#b: answered prayers (asks)

[robertsbarbie]

wait actually i'm gonna double down: stats mean shit if you don't win games, in fact i care so little about stats that patrick mahomes could play for five seconds of a game and if kc were to win that game i would say it's all because of patrick and it's proof he's the greatest player of all time because i think i really just don't give a shit about the supposed markers for greatness outside of winning games whoopsie :/

[willyoubemycherryy]

Counting Licks (Bo Chow x Reader)

Summary: He does bite- never too hard though…

Contains: smut, giving a bitch sum head or sum, minimal plot, no I genuinely mean it, oral (f. receiving), kissing, dirty talk, refers to the 🐱 as ‘her’, he’s feral for the cookie, pussydrunk Bo, biting, petnames, “I ain’t never date no man who ain’t suck me off the bone”, BITINGGGG, public, but u guys are alone, I saw sinners again last night and this is the product so good luck

A/N- if you see a mind running around that looks lost, it’s mine. Leave it be.

+ with @bochowswife and @taylormarieee in mind🥰🎀

*Takes place in the ‘fix it’ universe

.♡

The club had been open for weeks and had been a bigger success than originally planned.

It was kind of an unspoken rule that anyone in attendance didn’t mention the incident from that night, it being “bad mojo” and all that and people were only too happy to put it behind them.

Another thing that happened by the end of the first week was the switch from plantation credits to actual money or change. Quarters, dimes, nickels, were all welcome as long as it could spend. They changed it in a way that business wasn’t affected but worked for the locals. Now, prices were different depending on what they was drinking and that did wonders for money flow. So much in fact, that they needed help managing it all.

That’s where you and Bo come in.

Managing his own store and such, Bo was good with numbers- quick too- a trusted friend of the twins, and he’d been there to help them set up since day 1. So when the twins asked him to do the till counts during near end of the first half of the night, it was an easy yes. Surprisingly enough, Smoke and Stack were on the same page with not minding Bo bringing you into the office with him while he worked; claiming you kept him focused and that was that but….

Bo was supposed to be counting the tills and you were supposed to keep him focused.

“Mmmm, she’s so sweet baby”,

Bo purrs in that heady southern drawl before he laps another firm drag up your slit. “Nice n’ wet f’me..”.

A debauched moan bubbles deep from your chest as Bo slurps your clit into his mouth with a drunken hum. The vibrations make your head spin, lower stomach tensing up as you try to ground yourself before you lose your mind but Bo doesn’t let up- can’t bring himself to. Not when you coat his mouth with your taste looking like the answer to every prayer he’s ever prayed with full lips and wide eyes that constantly looked at him like you didn’t just want him but needed him.

He groans, pulling away with a string of saliva connecting you, smacking his lips hungrily as his hands help themselves to your curves and god- you melt. Much like ice would under the heat of the devil’s tongue only faster this time because pleasure is always better when business is meant to be the goal. Tingling nips to your thighs trail back up slowly to your wetness and you suck in a deep breath through your teeth, heavy arousal licking flames across your skin making you sweat. The music outside was loud enough to drown out your activities which was great because Bo was aiming to suck you off the bone.

Gripping the fat of your hip, he pulls you closer against his open mouth- tongue wet, hot, and insistent as he hungrily licks inside you. The pleasure is crushing and your hands find his hair, petting and messing at it weakly while you gasp and whine in bliss. Bo takes your throbbing bud in his mouth again, lapping stroke after stroke against the underside of your clit before rolling it between his teeth and you jolt as he bites down with just enough pressure for the pain to warm before he soothes it with a heavy lave of his tongue and you cry out so hard it feels like your chest is caving in.

“B-Bo! We-, the t-ti- fuuuck!” You can’t even string a sentence together with the way he’s taking you apart, sucking your clit like a piece of candy before rolling the sensitive swollen nub back between his teeth and you’re shaking. Eyes fluttering back as the most pitiful choked out sobs you’ve ever heard from yourself fall from your lips as you grind up into his handsome face.

It’s as if you’re floating. His hands are so big and rough- strong and everywhere. You might be crying for real now. Bo’s so hard that the blood rush makes his ears ring but he couldn’t be bothered to pay that any mind.

Not when you’re so close.

“Thaaat’s it sweet thing..”

And you’re crying and stuttering in that sweet, pretty, way you did whenever you got real close-your hips bucking up into his greedy maw and he can feel the way your leaking hole twitches under his tongue and he growls. A hand leaves your hips in favor of stuffing three of his fingers knuckle deep inside your spasming cunny as he catches your clit and bites- flattening his tongue to soothe the pain sweetly and he’s so sloppy with it as his fingers lazily stretch you open that you can’t take it anymore. It’s too good- too much.

The slutty arch of your back doesn’t make your orgasm any easier to bear as it tears clean through you, coming so hard you hear sight. Heart beating through your chest as you scream, spraying his thick fingers and sinful mouth with a hot burst of your slick. It gives Bo goosebumps as he moans into your flushed skin, mouth working even harder as he laps up your release. Even sucking you off his fingers before rushedly undoing his pants and jerking his fat throbbing shaft off with that same hand. Burying his head back to finish cleaning you up, the sweet taste and smell is so fucking good- so heady- that he’s coming minutes later into the hand that’s soaked with you, resting his head against your thigh while you catch your breath and wait for your senses to realign so you can convince him to take you home.

Till counting long forgotten.

[remmicksmuse]

rafe being protective of shy!pogue!reader not proofread!

you usually hate going to party, especially late ones at 7:30 PM, unless rafe is with you, he makes you feel safe. rafe texted you that he’ll be there in 5 so you didn’t really have to put on makeup so you put on low rise jeans and a black hoodie. you rarely wore revealing clothes anyways so this was a regular outfit for you. buzzzz! rafe was calling, “i’m outside” he said as you heard his engine from your window. you put on your uggs, grabbed your small purse, and walked out the door. click! rafe unlocked the door and lets you in, “we won’t be there to long princess, only 1 or 2 hours” rafe likes to check with you before taking you anywhere to make sure you know what’s going on and feel comfortable with where he’s taking you. it didn’t take rafe like to get there, only 15 minutes to arrive at the party. rafe gets out before you to open the door for you, holding your hand to help you out the car. as he guides you inside the house with his hand on your lower back, he looks around to make sure nobody dangerous or weird would bother you for the rest of the party. “aye, stay near me the whole time or if you get tired of walking, i’ll find you somewhere quiet to sit” rafe gave you specific instructions because he never knows who to trust at these parties with all the drugs and alcohol, especially when his special girl is with him. you turn to him and nod. rafe walks through the crowd and keeps you infront of him, not taking his eyes off you and keeping his hand on your waist. he talks to topper and some other friends while you just next to him awkwardly, topper tried to offer you something but before you even see the drugs or hear him ask, rafe gives him a stern look and roughly pushes his hand away, “she doesn’t do that typa shit” rafe getting mad at his friends made you feel bad and you thought it was your fault but you remember how he promised to never let anything bad happen to you. rafe takes your upstairs and finds an empty room that he’s sure no one will go in or disturb you. “stay here, i’m going to get you a drink, somethin’ you’ll like” he says before kissing you forehead and leaving the door shut.

you laid back on the bed and scrolled on your phone, hoping rafe would come back sooner. you heard the door knob twist and you sat up excitedly, expecting rafe but it was some random guy walks in smiling at you. “hey beautiful, are you waiting for someone?” he asked as he sat down next to you on the bed. as he scooted closer to you, you backed away from him uncomfortably, “i’m waiting for my b-boyfriend” you said shakily, wishing you could just disappear. he nods and tries to touch your hair, but you flinch and lean away from and he chuckles at your response, “hey listen, if he was really a good boyfriend, he wouldn’t leave you alone in some random room all alone as gorgeous as you are” he coos, trying his hardest to get you to trust him. he realized that his sweet talk isn’t working, he tries to pin your arms down by your head. you suddenly feel trapped and hopeless as you kick and cry for rafe. finally your prayers have been answered and the man above grunts as gets punched off of you & you feel your eyes dwelling upon tears. rafe quickly looks at you to makes sure you’re ok and continues to pound the guy. he doesn’t stop until the guys is knocked out then gently pulls you next to them. “did he hurt you anywhere?” he says before holding your chin up to check for any bruises or marks. you shake your head and he pulls you onto him, hugging you tightly. “i promised you i wouldn’t let anyone or anything hurt you sweetheart” he whispered. you cling onto him, wanting nothing but to stay close to him the rest of the night. he picks you ip and holds you up with one arm as you lay against his chest and he walks out the door. once you get to the car, he places you inside the passenger seat and buckles your seatbelt. rafe likes to do things for you and give you everything you want when you want it. as he gets in the drivers seat & starts the car, he turns the heat on. his anger is still visible because his jaw is clenched and his hands are still tight. you look at him in worry, wondering if it’s right to speak yet. “i’m sorry you had to go through that baby, i won’t leave you alone that long ever again” he spoke suddenly after a few seconds of silence. “it’s ok, it wasn’t your fault” you said assuringly. he gently holds your shaken hands and rests his on your thigh, “are you hungry” he asks. you felt a smile creeping upon your face before you nodded slowly up excitedly. rafe smirks and pulls out his car from the side of the driveway, rafe always knows how to cheer you up.

[roanofarcc]

A MOMENT IN THE IMPOSSIBLE

pairing. trevor lefkowtiz x alive!reader (requested)

summary.  near death experience sometimes gave people the ability to see and communicate with ghosts. what you did know was what a second near death experience meant for your ghostly communication, but you were about to find out. 

warnings. fem!reader, reader gets into an accident but is okay. mentions of injuries but nothing graphic. emotional trevor <3 talks of death (obv).

word count. 3.3K || masterlist

The first time you faced down death was as a small child, bright and plump in your winter coat and new set of ice skates. The frozen pond had been a journey you and your friends trudged to, noses cold but fingers warm under mittens. 

As your skates hit the ice, you embraced the winter breeze and the pleasant noise of blades cutting little grooves on the pond. You and your friends spun, leaped, laughed, and had not an inkling of worry in your minds. 

But the ice wasn’t frozen evenly across the pond, leaving spots only shallowly frozen. Somehow, your friends managed to keep on the thicker ice, but you weren’t as lucky. You glided across the ice with a grin, not noticing the cracks that formed under your blades. Before you knew what was happening, the thin ice crumbled, plunging you into the freezing water. 

The aftermath was foggy, a distant memory that lived under a haze in your brain. But the very moment it happened, the feeling of ice water soaking your winter jacket and your skates feeling weightless under the water, you remembered clearly. You should have been scared, but the plunge knocked the fear out of you, leaving it on top of the pond as an odd peace shielded you from the bitter cold. 

The story was retold years later, swapped at parties, and used as an icebreaker, no pun intended. Someone had managed to pull you, but your heart had stopped. No one was sure if it was an answered prayer, you got lucky, or it simply wasn’t your time to go, and the universe knew that. Whatever it was, you survived, a chill forever itching your bones when the weather turned gray. 

A good story wasn’t the only thing you received from that fateful day. Your second chance at life also left you with a newfound look on life, literally. Not only could you see the living and breathing people milling about their lives, but you could also see those in the afterlife. Everywhere you went, ghosts haunted. Some were so far out of time while others you almost mistaken for being alive. 

Once the initial shock wore off and you accepted that no one would ever believe what you could see, you started to befriend the ghosts you saw, especially those who were alone. Your presence was inviting; they were drawn to you, almost. 

For the longest time, well into your adulthood, you believed your talent came in far and few between, but then you met Sam, and learned she possessed the same ability as you. The two of you quickly fell into a friendship, sharing stories of your ridiculous lives and the characters you had met along the way. 

She eventually invited you over to meet the band of ghosts who haunted her house. 

You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect group to inhabit the old mansion. Each ghost had their quirks, wells of knowledge, and passion for drama. You fit into the odd puzzle that was Woodstone, so much so that Sam and Jay offered you a job at their B&B. 

It was almost perfect. You enjoyed the revolving door of guests and got along great with the ghosts. But luck was a tricky thing, and you couldn’t have such luck forever. 

“Is using ghosts technically cheating, or is it using your resources?” you asked, resting your chin on your hand as you lounged at the check-in desk of Woodstone. 

“I think it's a question of ethics, morals, and whatnot,” Pete replied. 

Trevor, who mirrored your position on the opposite side of the desk, replied, “Unless the rules explicitly against supernatural intervention, I think you’re fine.” 

You smiled. “Can’t say most people put that in the fine print. Though maybe they should. Who knows how many people can see ghosts and don’t tell anyone.” 

“People do get into near-death accidents every day, I’d guess,” Pete pondered. “I doubt all of them gain the ability, but if you and Sam had, who knows. That’s not really something you could ask people casually, though, right?” 

“Not without being called crazy by most people you asked,” Trevor said. “I know if someone asked me when I could see ghosts back when I was alive, I’d think they’d smoked something. Unless…” He trailed off, smirking at you with his signature look you had grown to roll your eyes at. It was a playful annoyance; Trevor was the easiest to imagine he was still alive when you spoke to him. The only disconcerting things about him was his lack of pants, but otherwise he reminded you of the cocky frat boys you went to college with, only he was a little softer around the edges. 

You indulged him, tilting your head to the side in question. “Unless what?” 

“Unless everyone who could see ghosts are hot. Based on you and Sam, those odds are looking pretty good.” 

Pete made a face before he made up an excuse to follow Jay around the kitchen instead of remaining in that conversation. 

You scoffed. “You’re hopeless, you know that?” 

Trevor shrugged, the grin not leaving his face. “What can I say? I have a thing for women way out of my league.” 

“Sam’s married, first of all.” Trevor waved his hand dismissively. “Second of all, out of your league is undercutting it a bit, don’t you think? We don’t exactly exist on the same plane of existence.” 

“Semantics.” 

You admired his persistence. You had never admitted it to him, but you liked Trevor. It made you feel silly; he was dead. Of course, you had a crush on a dead man. Trevor was too charming for his own good, a flirt and a constant presence. It was a recipe for disaster, but you never planned on admitting it, let alone indulging such a thought. You couldn’t even touch him. You didn’t see a way where a relationship was tangible or realistic, certainly not outside the walls of Woodstone. 

He made it very hard to act like you hadn’t thought about him in any romantic sense, with his constant lingering and comments he seemed to only direct at you since you had started at the mansion. 

“How exactly would you propose that ever working?” You phrased the question with a sarcastic twinge in your tone, but a part of you wanted to know. 

Trevor thought for a moment, humming as he pursed his lips. “I guess it’d be a little tough. I’m more of a hands-on kind of guy.” You rolled your eyes once more. “What’d they do in the olden days? Just kinda look at each other? That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” 

You raised your brows in surprise. “Do you think you could handle a relationship without ever touching the person or, you know, leaving the house with them?” 

“All I’m thinking about right now is how it sounds like you’re considering it.” 

You leaned over the counter, nose to nose with Trevor, with the smallest space in between, but that space was much further in reality. Separated by life and death. He stilled, eyes widening. “Unfortunately, I’m pretty hands-on too,” you replied, earning a subtle blush that spread across Trevor’s cheeks. You stepped back with a shake of your head. 

“Wait,” he reached out for you as a reflect, his hand passing right through your arm. With a groan, he threw his head back. “If we could touch, would you consider it?” 

You hesitated, unsure of your answer. He would still be dead at the end of the day, but a part of you did consider it. Trevor was the only person you felt connected to, in a way that leaned romantic, in a long time. Your luck with alive people was slim, but it was difficult to imagine a future with someone who was already dead, while you continued living. 

Instead of giving him a solid answer, you shrugged, at a crossroads. “I don’t know.” 

Instead of looking dejected, Trevor smiled widely. “That’s not a no.” No, it was not. 

“Can I say something that may potentially not help your situation?” asked Hetty as she watched Trevor lament on the sofa. 

He raised his brows. “Since when do you ask?” 

Hetty sat on the armrest of the sofa and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m trying to be kinder on a Thursdays.” 

“Only on Thursdays?” 

“I’m just a woman, Trevor. There’s only so much kindness I can offer,” she huffed. “And I am going to take that as a yes. What exactly do you foresee happening with you and Sam and Jay’s receptionist?” 

A dramatic sigh fell from Trevor’s lips. He had no clue what he saw happening. He knew it was a far-flung idea, a ghost and living being in a relationship. He would settle for a short-lived fling of shared gazes and conversations. That wasn’t like Trevor. He didn’t long for relationships or find himself daydreaming of his crushes. When he saw someone he was interested in, he wooed his way into a date or two, followed by some hands-on activities. Then either they tried to get serious and he ran away, or there was a mutual agreement to keep things casual until someone caught feelings and broke it off. 

Then he died, and suddenly he was acting like someone from the days before the internet and hooking up was cool. He wanted to hold hands, listen to you talk about anything and everything, and all around just be in your presence. His heart was too soft when he was around you; it was weird. 

“Nothing, probably,” he answered after a beat. “She’s alive. I’m dead. I get it.” 

Hetty pressed her lips in a thin line as she observed Trevor with a scrutinizing eye for a moment. “I don’t think I have ever seen you in such a state. You really are torn up over this, aren’t you?” 

“It just seems unfair for us to still have feelings when we can’t do anything about it."

Hetty opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a panicked Sam, who rushed into the living room. Her cellphone was pressed between her ear and shoulder as she waved over Jay, who had been watching and laughing at videos on his phone for the past hour in his armchair. 

Jay stood up, confused as Sam finished up her conversation. 

“Yes…O-Okay.” Her voice cracked, filled with emotion that was immediately concerning to everyone in the room. “Thank you…You too.” She hung up, dropping her phone onto the coffee table with a sniffle. 

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Jay asked, grasping her shoulders and pulling her into his arms. 

Through tears, Sam explained that you had been in a car accident. Trevor felt his no-longer-beating heart drop into his feet. Your mother had called Sam on your behalf and told her you had died in the ambulance, but by some miracle were resuscitated by the EMTs. You were alive, recovering from surgery in the hospital. 

You were alive, but Trevor felt shaken to the bone. You had died, again. Obvious Trevor hadn’t known you when you were a little girl who fell through the ice, but he knew you now. He cared for you dearly, and the idea of you nearly vanishing from his life hit him much harder than he expected. It felt like the time he was teaching his neighbor’s kid baseball, and the kid swung the bat just as Trevor approached behind him. The bat socked Trevor right in the gut, bruising a rib. That was how it felt to know he had almost lost you and had not even known. 

Hetty’s fingers grasped his shoulder, shaking him lightly with a pinched expression. “She’s alive,” she repeated. “She’ll be all right, right?” 

Sam swallowed thickly but nodded. “According to her mom, she’s set to make a full recovery.” She turned to Jay. “We should go see her. Maybe bring some flowers or…or those cookies you make that she always talks about.” 

Jay wiped a couple of tears from Sam’s cheeks and sniffled himself. “Yeah, of course.” 

Dragging his hands down the length of his face, Trevor tried to soothe the terrible ache in his chest. He wanted to see you, bring you flowers, and ask if you’re okay. But he was suck in that house forever, and you could go anywhere you wanted. He couldn’t even hold your hand or hold you close. 

He wondered if the universe hated him, cursing him with feelings for the last person on Earth he could have. 

It got worse, too, thanks to the questions posed by his ghost-mates. If he didn’t feel so heavy with your absence that haunted Woodstone, he would have strangled Sass for putting the worry in his head. 

“You don’t think a second near-death experience will reverse the effects of the first one, do you?” Sass wondered aloud. 

Trevor stared at him, wide-eyed. 

Alberta hung her head. “Now, why would you ask that right now?” 

“It’s not a bad question,” Hett said. “What does two near-death experiences do to a person if one gives them the potential to see the dead?” 

“Or it could give someone the ability to be even more interactive,” Isaac suggested. 

Trevor nodded vigorously, panic swelling like a balloon in his chest. “Yeah, I like Isaac’s better.” 

“I hope she can still see us,” Flower sighed. “She’s catching me up on the music of today. I need to know more about this ‘One Direction Infection.’” 

Standing beside Flower, Thor furrowed his brows. “Infections no good. Friend lost foot to infection.” 

“Enough talk about infections,” Alberta snapped. “What’s important is that she’s not dead, and Sam said she plans on coming back once she feels better. Until then, we just need to think positively, okay?” She was looking at him, more sympathetically than her usual gaze. 

In the midst of your accident, he realized his crush was far from subtle. The other ghosts, Sam, and even Jay knew. It didn’t help his case that he was clearly the most torn up about it, since he couldn’t come see you at the hospital to ease his worries. Sam tried to tell him you were doing just fine and recovering better than the doctor predicted, but without seeing you with his own eyes, Trevor wasn’t convinced. 

On top of that, he started to worry that you had lost the ability to see him since the accident. What if you couldn’t? What would he do? How would be cope? How would you cope if such a big thing ceased to exist in your life? Would he have to spend the rest of his ghosthood playing telephone with you through Sam? Oh, he just couldn’t stomach all of that. It made him sick, couch-riding for days. He hardly moved, hardly thought of anything else. None of the ghosts, Sam, or Jay could ease his worries. 

It wasn’t until you arrived back at Woodstone did Trevor stop his wallowing. You stood in the doorframe of his bedroom, smiling lightly. Your arm was in a sling, and there were splotchy bruises on your face. 

“Hey, Trevor,” you greeted. He let out a breath he’d been holding since he first heard you were in an accident. His lungs relaxed, his heart unconstricted.

“You can still see me,” he said, more to himself than anything. 

You furrowed your brows, confused. “Of course I can,” you replied. “You were worried about that?” 

Trevor nodded slowly. “I was worried about a lot of things, all of them involving you.” Your expression softened as you entered the room, a slight limp in your step. “Sam said your heart stopped. Y-You died. And then Sass wondered if, when they brought you back, it would change your ability to see us because that was how you got it in the first place. And I kept thinking, ‘what if she can’t see us anymore?’ It freaked me out; really, really, freaked me out and-” 

You approached him, eyes wide and worried, as you said his name softly to stop his ranting. “I’m okay and I can still see you,” you reassured him. “I didn’t think you’d be so worried about me.” 

He scoffed, almost offended. “Are you kidding me? How could I not be? You’re…” he trailed off, a soft sigh falling him his lips before he turned on his heel. He didn’t like being so vulnerable, not in front of someone like you. 

As he turned his back to you, starting toward the window to collect himself without having to look you in the eyes, you reflectively reached out as you would have anyone. It was a hard habit to break with the ghosts, reaching out. Before your mind reminded you that your hand would only phase through him, your fingers brushed against the fabric of his suit jacket. 

Startled, Trevor spun around as you gasped. Your fingers didn’t phase through his ghostly form like they were supposed to. No, your hand grasped his jacket as if he were alive and standing in front of you. 

“What is happening right now?” he asked, staring at your hand on him. 

You sputtered for a response, pulling your hand back before you reached out again, thinking maybe the pain medicine you were on was playing tricks on your mind. But when you neared his arm, you didn’t pass through him again. You touched him, fingers curling around his forearm, which was impossible. 

Trevor stayed impossibly still, scared he’d break whatever weird illusion he found himself in. “Y-You’re not dead, right?” 

A startled laugh escaped your lips. “No,” you whispered. “I’m alive but…” You trailed your hand up the length of his arm, pausing on his shoulder before you met his gaze. “I don’t know how this is possible.” 

Trevor’s hands shook slightly as he reached out too, his fingers hesitantly brushing your sweater. No pain enclosed them, which often occurred when he’d phased through a living. The soft fabric of your sweater met his fingertips, solid and real under his touch. 

He could touch you. He was touching you. It felt like a dream, one he had many times before, but that time he wasn’t sleeping. 

A part of him was scared that whatever was happening wouldn’t last; he didn’t want to waste a moment of the real dream he found himself living. He grasped the sides of your face with both hands, feeling your soft skin under his fingers. That alone was enough for Trevor. To feel you, to feel real himself. 

You studied him with a soft gaze and the prettiest smile on the planet in Trevor’s eyes. You leaned in just a little, brushing your nose against his, a dramatic beat in your heart at the contact. 

Trevor seized the moment, unsure if he’d have another moment outside of that one. He closed the small gap between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss was the desperate kind, the unknown if it was first and last that you’d share or the start of many. It didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the firm pressure on your lips and the softness of Trevor’s thumbs lightly brushing your cheeks. His hands cradled the sides of your face like you were the most important thing he’d ever held. 

You kissed his back feverishly, savoring the feel and taste in case that was all you got. 

It wasn’t until your lungs started to scream at you did you pulled away from the kiss, but you remained as close as you could get to Trevor, scared to let go. 

Maybe it wouldn’t last, or maybe you had thinned the veil between your life and death just enough to be able to touch the dead. You had no idea if it was a fluke or a permanent effect. It didn’t really matter in that moment because you had Trevor in your grasp, and he had you in his. What came after was miles away, something you’d worry about later. You only cared about drinking in that moment, savoring the impossible while it lasted.

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Pink Moon in Libra ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

The first FM of the aenergetic year 2025, Full Pink Moon, was in Libra on the 13/14 April🩰Have you guys been feeling/receiving a crazy surge of energy to... socialise... somewhat?🎭If you haven't, I'm sure you will eventually—this FM in Libra seems to have a long effect in rerouting our subconscious to 'find our people' in the world this year🌷The feeling of wanting to 'connect and click' with someone special—not always in a romantic sense, but just in a human sense🦔

The FM aenergy itself, up until the next New Moon in Taurus, is here to help us release some fears, possibly traumas, pertaining to 'past mistakes' in communications📞We're being assisted in releasing even some form of 'hatred' pertaining to human interactions; releasing shame and/or the fear of awkwardness, embracing the idea of reconnecting with society through brand-new eyes of compassion and understanding for all the complexities that come with being Human🤹

Compassion and understanding for others, but of course, for oneself, too🍵

Human interactions get weird, people can get weird, but ultimately, authenticity and vulnerability save our hearts from the ache of rejection🍍Many of you tuning into this PAC have been good in isolation. You've healed your heart, focused your mind, balanced your hormones and reset your nervous system🧘����‍♀️It's been a while; it's time to get back out there and... socialise... babyyhhh~ One step at a time is OK, too! Just breatheeee~

'Maybe you don't need more time to heal. Maybe you need more experiences that can show your nervous system a different Reality.' — some dude on Twitter

ready: FLOWER POWER by DEAN

gnosis: Are We Entering a New Romantic Era? | Kate Alexandra

deck-bottom: 4 of Swords, Gold Magus (Johannes Faustus) & Priestess of Wishes

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Climbing Up All the Way to the Stars

s e e d s – 6 of Cups Rx

I feel like you've been betrayed and abandoned by those who should've been there to protect you, support you. This could indeed be a 'family' or some really close friends whom you trusted, a little too much, not to break your heart. But at some point in Life, the Universe showed you their true colours—just some fact that these types of people couldn't come with you to your Destination. And then suddenly, you had to fight for your life or your place in the world, all, by, yourself.

You didn't have anybody to turn to. The only people you could think of weren't emotionally or spiritually available to you. Many of you tuning into this probably faced some great difficulties in your finances, or that you somehow 'fell from grace' in whatever capacity that resonates with your society. From normal heights, you fell deep into the abyss, and you meditated and asked the Universe for guidance, and now...

s p r i n g – King of Swords

After so freaking many years that could've felt like forever, your prayers are being answered, and you can see it all manifest—pop! pop! pop!—in your physical Reality. It took such a long time because it was mandatory that you learnt to maintain your own spiritual aenergy, so as not to experience leakage when you're at the top. What we call 'higher heights' in society, unfortunately, are places so poor in spiritual cleanliness—do you even realise that?

That's why you couldn't be 'successful' on the fast track. The fast track was always invested with spiritual parasites. God, the Universe, your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides wanted to make sure you understand the complex relation between 'wealth and success' and 'spiritual integrity'. You're one of the new leaders of the New World. The 'fall from grace' was just part of your lore-building.

b l o s s o m – 5 of Wands

And now, behold! You're stronger emotionally, psychologically, physically and everythingally. You're ready to mingle, even at the risk of meeting strange people. You have the capacity to navigate social quirks and challenges. You're about to be shocked by the Universe because here's a secret VIP elevator just for you to reach heights you'd never imagined before. I mean, yeah sure you fantasised, but the Reality of what's about to hit you can be far more exciting than what you've been dreaming of~

At this point, the whole world is your runway. All kinds of scenario could happen here, but whatever it is, you're the awesome main character. You're ready to shine and charm the living shit out of people. Pssst...still, keep your plans all to yourself and don't share any progress/good news with anybody just yet! Your manifestations are still soft as a quiche. Later when it gets as tough as a baguette, that's when you can plot your revenge. Stab them with those baguettes, babyyh~!

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Green Astrologer (Robert Fludd) & Priestess of Energy

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Pile 2 – Reconnecting, Offline~!

s e e d s – 8 of Wands Rx

Yaaa, you've been deep in isolation for how long, my dear? If this is your main pile, it could be that you've only had interactions online or with fictional characters in media or celebrities in your head, yeah? Seems like there haven't been many reasons for you to go out and meet people in real life. Some of you tuning into this could've been through some deep resting season due to heavy depression. Well, depression is literally just deep-rest-station huehue...

The Universe guided you towards isolation so that you had a chance to clear up your brains from the noises of society. A small number of you tuning into this could identify as a hikikomori? You probably shunned real-life human interactions because you got tired of people being mean to each other—to you probably. You didn't do anything wrong. The quiet was necessary. Being alone was imperative. Being highly sensitive, you needed to rediscover your core and then ground yourself in it, before you could return to being part of the social network again~

s p r i n g – Queen of Cups Rx

Interestingly, I do feel that when you reconnect with society, this will gradually manifest on the physical sphere. So it could be that you're connecting with new people online, and the VIBE is right, and you proceed to meet in real life. You could be making new friends with similar hobbies and interests as you; and this could be highly rewarding ^.^v Although you still must exercise caution when meeting new people in real life, OK? You never know...!

Meanwhile, some of you might simply be relocating to a new place that will allow you to make new friends, or it could be that you decide to travel somewhere, for whatever reason, and there you miraculously encounter very interesting, unusual people, and then you decide to exchange numbers or socials. Whoa, these types of scenarios are highly suggested for y'all right now, Pile 2~

b l o s s o m – 6 of Pentacles

You'll be meeting new people the good ol' way LOL I had a thought recently, if someone ain't at school or have an office job, how in the world did people meet new people back when social media or dating apps weren't a thing? Yo, I can't seem to remember? At then I realised... People went out, duh. People actually went out and when it felt appropriate (hopefully) they actually struck up a conversation with strangers. Whoa... Unthinkable—almost—in today's paradigm...

So, go out there and read your books in the open XD If you're wealthy, go do some charity work. Go out to specific places where you can bond over similar interests with the people there. Stuff like that. With your current level of vibrations, you're already a magnet for positive experiences and people who are similar to yourself. Let your intuition guide you, babe~<3 Be safe out there~!

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Red Magus (Edward Kelly) & Priestess of Illumination

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Pile 3 – Literally Choosing Who to Play and Who to Love

s e e d s – 5 of Pentacles Rx

Literally, whatever suffering and/or struggles you've overcome have gotten your Soul elevated to such a high degree you almost can't relate to the rest of the experiences of being Human. To begin with, a large portion of you tuning into this probably identify as neurodivergent or nonbinary, too. There's quite nothing 'normal' or 'typical' about you, and trying to understand what it means to be a normal person in society has gotten your heart broken more times than you care to admit.

Thing is, there's a bit of a catch-22 here. Though you're elevated and/or 'woke', if you don't actually make an effort to re-connect with the 'normal human experience', you could potentially turn into something of a tone-deaf spiritualist or activist. These types of people are so desperate to be understood for all their unique struggles that they forget to be understanding as to why others may still struggle to understand them... yeah...

s p r i n g – 9 of Pentacles Rx

In this paradigm, I see your Spirit Guides guiding you back from the potentiality of developing a 'holier than thou' mindset. They're not saying you're a bad person to begin with—they're saying that they understand your heartache has gotten you almost bitter and jaded, and they don't want that to continue to get nourishment from you. Because after all, genuinely kind and understanding people really do be existing out there, and they'd like you to rediscover for yourself!

So don't be too much alone. Don't be too much afraid of getting rejected or disappointed. The key is, go out there and talk to people, just with less seriousness and/or sincerity lmao Take it easy. The moment you detect someone who doesn't align with your values, leave them at peace with their own paradigm and you move on to the next best possible encounter, if and when the differences are irreconcilable. Otherwise, you could try to have casual friendships, right?

b l o s s o m – 3 of Pentacles Rx

At your current level of vibrations, you're literally not abiding by society's expectations anymore and that's perfectly juicy. At this point, your spiritual prowess has enabled you to go and manifest things and people in your world by your very own definitions of what you deserve and don't. In that sense, you've become a transcended being but that's precisely why your Spirit Guides want you to make a 'choice' when it comes to re-entertaining society.

Can you play a villain at times? Can you play a punisher sometimes? A judge? An angel or saviour at other? If and when it feels right, you decide what to play as; you decide who to play and who to love in this complex game of social interactions. That's the level of clarity you've arrived at, at this point in your spiritual evolution. At the end of the day, these words are just some guidance and/or tips and tricks from your Spirit Guides, but ultimately what to do is purely your choice—since there's not a major arcana here LOL

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Gold Astronomer (John Dee) & Priestess of Enchantment

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my GOD

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[quimichi]

ೃ⁀➷ CALLING THE SUMERU BOY'S YOUR GOOD BOY

Sumeru boy's Creator!Reader

Al-haitham, Kaveh, Cyno, Tighnari & Scaramouche

Al-Haitham - The ones who find the disruptors will win

Al-haitham closes the gap between himself and you, getting as close physically as he can ans drops to his knees. His body quakes slightly as he looks up to meet your eyes. His eyes feel raw. He wants to look away, but he forces himself to meet your gaze. "Your my good boy aren't you?", your voice so gentle, so smooth like the silky web of the Darwin bark spider. A simple question, but Al-Haitham's thoughts come to a halt as he processes your words.

Al-Haitham has heard these words a hundred times before, and yet they always make his heart skip a beat. "Y-yes," he breathes, his gaze unwavering on yours. "Yours." Words fail him. Al-Haitham opens his mouth to say something - anything to appease your desire - and yet no words leave him. Instead he simply closes the gap between you and him, leaning forward so that he is touching you.

He's still on his knees, and as he stares up at you his heart keeps racing. The word *yours* rings in his ears. He wants to say it again, to tell you how he feels about you and about your words. But he cannot.

"Is something troubling you?" your hand comes up to stroke his cheek, gently. He leans into your touch, his whole being quaking at your gesture. When you touch him, he's paralyzed by your affection. He breathes in sharply. "Y- you," Al-Haitham whispers, trying not to let his voice crack. He wants to say more but cannot seem to speak.

He can feel his face redden. Al-Haitham presses himself against you, his entire body practically vibrating with the rush of emotions."I-i am troubling you?" this truly took you by surprise, you always appreciated his honesty but this?

"Y-y-yes." Al-Haitham chokes back his words. His voice falters as he speaks. "You drive me...mad." A small smirk plays at his lips, as though he is ashamed about the thought he's just expressed. Yet there's no going back now, and his face has grown redder.

"B-but im still your good boy." The word leaves him like a prayer. Al-Haitham closes his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. He does not move. He does not breathe. His entire body is held hostage by you. Your voice is the air he breathes. Your touch is what makes him whole.

He is utterly yours.

Kaveh - The ability to appreciate beauty is an important virtue.

Kaveh smiles shyly, nervously, and approaches you on trembling legs. His steps are slow, but steady— it is only a few paces, but it seems like his body is taking him to heaven itself. When he is finally within touching distance, he waits for instruction; he is your servant after all. In your name he has build multiple builds, designed the palace you are living in. Without him, without his abilities, you wouldn't live in a palace only for you. You just had to praise him for it.

"Yes, your Grace. I am," Kaveh answers instantly. The words fall from his lips like honey, and he is genuinely giddy when he says them. He's bouncing on place like a child. So excited he forgot to be surprised by the sudden affection of his grace.

"Is there something I can do for you, your Grace? Your good boy shall always be by your side, ready to serve." You quickly move your hand for him to come closer. Kaveh obeys without hesitation, but his heart is beating out of hus chest while he still moving closer. His hands are clasped before him and are trembling with nervous energy as he gazes up at you, his expression reverent.

"Your Grace?" he asks cautiously, as if he is awaiting your next command. "Is there something you need?"

Kavehs cheeks immediately flush pink as his breath grows hoarse. He is a little embarrassed to admit it, but his gaze is captivated by your hand. He can no longer hide the fact that your touch mesmerizes him.

"Your Grace, please..." he begs quietly, though he doesn't dare look away. "If you keep stroking my cheek like this i am close to fainting..." You start to softly chuckle at him, well, isn't he a cutie?

Kavehs face flushes brighter, and his heartbeat seems to triple with each passing second. "Your Grace," he asks, his voice thick with infatuation, "can you please call me that again? After all...I'm your good boy aren't I?"

Cyno - Your sins weigh upon your soul

"Cyno, would you mind coming closer?" As if moved by an unknown force, Cyno shifts closer, inching closer to your person. "You would like me nearer?" he asks, the quiet tone of reverence in his voice unchanging.

"A tiny bit closer" you said, and without any hesitation, he does. Cyno obliges with his next breath, the movement of him inching closer in tandem with it.

"As you wish, Your Grace," he says softly to you. "Good boy" you coo at him. Such an obedient boy he is. Every fibre of Cynos being is lit up in the face of your praise. He stares back at you like a lost baby bird gazing up at the heavens.

"Thank you," he says quietly, as if the mere notion of such things were a foreign concept to him. You are the only one whose approval he craves. "Ohhh you're so formal" he never let his guard down while in your presence. Always showing you the upmost respect. The only time it slips, is when a little joke leaves him making you chuckle. That alone makes his heart race and being close to explode...

"I'm sorry," Cyno mumbles, face blushing in mortification at his slip-up. In all his life he has only been taught to show respect. Even now, as everything becomes so much easier with you near, he must maintain a sense of formality and decorum.

"Forgive me," he says, voice quiet and soft as ever, tone dripping with reverence as it comes out. "Oh Cyno, it's ok. You're my good boy after all I could never be upset with you"

The mere words from your lips are enough to send chills down Cynos spine, his face flushing as though his skin had become suddenly too tight for his body.

"And you are my god/dess/deity"

The words come like a whisper of a breeze. His hands flutter before his chest, the way a maiden might wring her hands. His expression is one of complete adoration, his gaze turned up to you as if to a heavenly vista.

I'm their good boy....

Tighnari - The value of knowledge can't simply be quantified in monetary terms.

"Nari, would you mind coming closer to me?" He doesn't wait to respond. With an urgent and desperate speed, Tighnari closes the gap between you and him. He wants to make you happy, and his body responds without a moment of hesitation as his legs bring him closer to you.

He presses close to you, and takes a deep breath in. His warm gaze holds a soft glow of wonder and awe as he takes in your face. His eyes speak to you silently, and say 'I am yours. Do with me what you must. I want nothing but you, Your Grace'. After all the time he has spend with you, informed you about the well-being of the forst, he not only got closer to you than anyone else. He also lost his feeling of shame.

He is much more open with you, less reserved. He only seeks for you attention, touch, your gaze, anything at all.

You look down from your throne to see Tighnari kneeling before you, his eyes downcast. He does not speak, but nods. "Yes." His tone is quiet. He stares at the floor without moving. He's utterly ashamed, this hit him straight in the face without mercy.

With this scene playing in front of you, you can't help but have a little fun. "I didn't quite hear you Tighnari, would you mind repeating yourself?"

His tone is slightly louder as he repeats himself: "Yes." He still stares at the floor. His heart beats furiously. He is still and patient. His body is relaxed on the outside. On the inside, though, he is utterly in turmoil. "Good boy, I am proud of you that you spoke up~"

Tighnari's breathing is deep and steady, as if he is forcing himself to calm his nerves. His stomach is tied in knots, but he tries his best to ignore it. He is yours, and he knows not to speak unless he is spoken to.

He shifts slightly to try and get more comfortable, though he does not look at you as he does so. Despite himself, he blushes. The sudden intimacy of your touch on his ears sends a wave of sensation through him. His face turns an immediate dark red, but he does not move away from your touch.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the feel of your fingers running through his hair. Every touch is pure ecstasy. "'m your good boy..." he breathes.

Scaramouche - Eternity stretches things out over a long time. But each moment within it becomes all the more fragile

"Come closer" Scaramouche's expression is neutral, but there is an undercurrent of concern to his voice as he approaches you.

"Yes, Your Grace. What do you need?" He says it in such a manner that could be interpreted either as a formal servant, or a concerned companion. "Closer" A small frown tenses Scaramouche's brow as he moves closer. Your expression is neutral, and as he kneels before you, his heart is hammering loudly in his chest; and he knows he has done something wrong. Despite this, he obeys your command nonetheless.

"What's wrong? You seem upest?" You're worried you may have sounded to rough. After all he is a sensitive boy. "I thought... I thought you called me because I had done something that displeased you," he says after a moment, and though he tries to swallow down his mounting anxiety, it shows in his voice. "Is there... something... I have done wrong?"

"No!" your heart starts to ache at this, "My good boy could never do anything wrong" Scaramouche's expression softens, and a single, brief smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

His brows furrow again, as he tries to figure out the underlying reason you have called for him. Despite the fact that he is no longer frightened, he can't quite understand your intentions.

"Why... have you called for me, then, Your Grace?" He asks gently, still kneeling before you. "To praise my good boy" and with saying that you gently caress his face.

Scaramouche closes his eyes in your touch. The warmth and softness of your touch is enough to take his breath away. He leans forward, unconsciously seeking more from your caress. But at the same time, he is afraid to lean too far, lest he make you upset.

"Yes, I am your... good little boy."

He tilts his head upward, the need to gaze into your eyes and bask in your love overwhelming whatever modesty that held him back from your touch. He wants nothing more than to be as close to you as physically possible.

"All for me?"

"Yes, Your Grace," he croaks as he inclines his head, his gaze locked onto yours.

"All for you."

[beckyninja]

Together

Pairing: Demetrian Titus x FemReader

Warning: Things get a little spicy toward the end, but nothing explicit

Description: A sequel to Revelation, in the aftermath of the destruction of DeathWatch Kill Team Kasaeran on Kadaku, Titus's serf grieves and reminisces.

“Wait! Please tell me-”

The door hissed closed in your face and you heard the input of a locking code. You stood in a dark room. No one had bothered to light the candles. Voices and footsteps sounded from the hallway beyond.

But you had never felt more alone.

“Is he even alive?” You found yourself asking no one. 

Is Titus still alive?

Tears threatened for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day, ever since the news about Kill Team Kasaeran. You’d never forget Frigg’s wail of grief upon learning Ulfar’s fate. You wondered where she was right now. Did she miss you? Did anyone at the Watch Fortress care that you were gone?

Swallowing a surge of panic, you inspected the room and gasped in relief when your searching fingers found a bundle of matches on the floor. With the candles lit you realized you stood in quarters almost identical to the ones you’d shared with Titus for the past year.

The only difference was the insignia. An inverted omega marked nearly every surface, including the robes of the serfs who had brought you onboard this battle barge. The symbol of the Ultramarines.

You traced one with your fingertips. Titus had taught you much about the Astartes’ chapters you encountered. You knew to smile at Salamanders, steer clear of Black Templars, and be cautious around Space Wolves. 

Only once did he ever speak of the Ultramarines.

“You and I will have nothing to do with them, Little Healer.” 

You were no fool. You’d had your suspicions about his past. And now you stood on one of their ships.

But, why? If he was gone, then surely you would have been given another position in the Watch Fortress. Assigned to another Astartes, perhaps.

“Emperor,” you sank to your knees, “please, please.”

He can’t be gone. 

***

Months Earlier

You jerked awake, thoughts muddled. Shoving blankets and pillows aside, you sat up in what Titus referred to as your “nest”. The artificial light remained off, and only a few stubby candles flickered. Still the night cycle.

You rubbed your eyes and tried to remember what had awoken you. Then you heard it. Deep, panting gasps, almost animal-like in their intensity. The chemical tang of Astartes sweat filled the air. 

“My Lord?” You yawned.

“...go back to sleep, Little Healer.”

Something in his voice worried you, and you scrambled out of your pile of cloth. Or tried to, anyway. A pillow shifted under your feet and you tumbled back into your nest with a yelp. 

A strained huff from the cot. “Clumsy.”

Grumbling and now fully awake, you stood, straightening your sleeping robe around you. “Are you all right, my Lord?”

“Yes.”

He did not sound all right.

In the dark, your thighs hit the edge of the cot and you toppled forward, hands landing on scarred, warm skin. 

“I’m so sorry, my Lord! I just wanted to- eep!”

Hands came out of nowhere, dragging you up and forward until you sprawled on what could only be an impossibly large chest.

“Titus?!”

“Stay.” This close, you heard the unsteadiness in his voice. “I need….”

You understood. “Nightmares?”

A deep sigh was your only answer. Something bumped the top of your head, pressing into your hair, and you felt a warm rush of breath.

“Your scent is… calming.”

“Um. All right, then.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your breath quickened. 

***

Present

Time passed. The voices and footsteps outside your room ebbed and flowed, but no one came to unlock the door. 

You prayed. You drank water from the sink in the lavatory. Prayer. You lit a few more candles. More prayer. Finally, worry succumbed to sheer boredom and you rose from aching knees.

The silent serfs who’d brought you here had also brought Titus’s chest. A good sign. Why bring his belongings if he was… if he….

You pushed the thought away. 

Kneeling before the chest, you put your shoulder to the lid and heaved it open with a groan. Titus’s Death Watch pauldron met your eyes first. You traced the engravings and cringed when your fingers came away sticky. 

They didn’t even bother to clean it!

With an indignant huff, you rummaged further for your cleaning supplies, but touched worn leather instead. A pair of gloves. 

***

Months Earlier

The fork slipped from your cold-numbed fingers onto your plate with a clatter. “Oh, Throne damn it!”

Frigg slapped hand on your shoulder. “Don’t fret. Ye’ll get used to it soon enough. Why, with how hot Astartes run, ye should be grateful the powers that be keep the Fortress as cold as it is. Otherwise only the Salamanders would be happy!” She chortled at her own joke.

You rubbed your hands together, but the heat from the friction faded all too quickly.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if I had-”

“I know.” Frigg rolled her eyes. “Allfather’s Balls, lass. I told ye I’d see if I had a spare pair to lend ye, didn’t I?”

“You did. A standard month ago.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s good for ye to toughen up a bit.”

You sighed and tried to grasp your fork again. At this rate, you’d starve to death.

Another serf scrambled into the dining hall. “Astartes coming!” He hissed. “Black Templar in a foul mood!”

Frigg swore in Fenrisian and pulled you to your feet. “Eyes and head down, lass.”

You obeyed as armored boots pounded into the hall. For a long moment no one moved or spoke, and the cold crept back into your bare fingers. Without thinking, you tucked them inside your robe.

“You!”

Your head shot up to meet the gaze of the Templar. “M-my Lord?”

“You dare prioritize your own comfort in the presence of an Angel of the Emperor?”

“N-no-”

“And now you compound your sin with lies? Come here!”

Frigg shot you a look of pity as you shuffled toward the seething Astartes. His armored gauntlet grasped the back of your robe, dragging you upward. The collar jerked tight around your throat.

“You will be punished for your insolence, woman.”

“Unhand her, Beren.”

With an oath, the Templar dropped you and pivoted to face the second Astartes to enter the dining hall. “This is what comes of coddling serfs, Nullus. Sin and insolence!” 

Titus ignored him and reached out a hand to you, lifting you to your feet. “Are you hurt, Little Healer?”

“No, my Lord.” You smiled up at him, almost melting with relief.

Beren snarled. “If she were my serf-”

“But she is not..” Titus turned and took a step closer to the Black Templar, his voice lowering to a growl. “She is mine.”

A wave of heat washed over you at the words. 

Beren snarled something unintelligible and stomped away. Titus huffed a breath through his nose.

“He never takes well to losing in the sparring ring.”

You bit back a nervous giggle. “Thank you, my Lord.”

He glanced down at you, one corner of his mouth twitching upward. “I brought you something.”

In his gauntlet lay a pair of worn, leather gloves.

***

Present

More time passed. The door remained locked. Your stomach cramped with hunger. 

You’d scrubbed Titus’s pauldron until it gleamed. Then you’d scrubbed everything else in sight. You’d prayed more, but the Emperor didn’t seem to be listening. 

Your mind whirled with awful scenarios. Everyone had forgotten you. One day someone would open the door to find nothing but your withered corpse. And the worst of all….

Titus was gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

You crawled onto the cot and wrapped yourself in his red cloak, the same red cloak you’d noticed when you first saw him back on your homeworld. His scent surrounded you. 

Safety. Companionship. And more.

So much more.

***

One Week Ago

When Titus kissed you, your mind went blank. You didn’t know what to do. Except kiss him back.

He pulled you to him, pressing your body to his. You felt the difference in your sizes like never before. He could do anything he wanted to you. The thought should be terrifying.

But it was Titus. You ran your hands up his bare chest, running your fingers over his scars and tracing the metal ports. You’d touched him before, of course, when he clung to you after his nightmares.

This time felt different. When he pulled away, you whimpered.

“Little Healer….”

The rasp of his voice made you tremble. He cupped your face and you saw uncertainty, desire, and something deeper in his rich brown eyes.

“Did you mean your words just now?”

Love. You’d said you loved him. Some part of your mind whispered words of caution, of the perils of the door you were about to open.

“I meant them with all that I am, Titus. I love you.”

For the first time since you’d met him, he smiled.

You kissed him then. He grunted in surprise, then chuckled, arms wrapping tight around you and lifting you off your feet. His mouth moved from your lips to your throat and you felt the brief brush of teeth.

“You are mine. Say it.”

Molten heat rushed through your body. “Yours. I’ve always been yours, Titus.”

“Call me by my given name.”

“Demetrian….”

“Throne!” He growled.

The world spun and you felt your back hit the thin mattress of his cot. He loomed above you, massive body outlined in the flickering candlelight. For a moment he reminded you of one of the predatory cats of your homeworld, poised to strike and devour.

But he hesitated. Uncertainty crept back into his eyes.

“Do you want this?”

You reached up to him. “Demetrian….”

He actually shivered at your touch, eyes closing tight. “I… I must hear you say it.”

“I want you, Demetrian. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

He groaned. “As have I.” With hands that you swore trembled slightly, he slowly pushed your robe off your shoulders. “So soft, so small… I will be gentle, my love.”

And he was. 

***

Present

That had been the night before he left for Kadaku. 

You remembered waking to him shifting out from under you on the cot. He’d seen you wince as you tried to rise and gently pushed you back. You remembered the touch of his hand on your face as he told you to rest.

He would come back to you, he swore. He kissed you and was gone.

Then the terrible news. The arrival of the Ultramarines. Your transport to this battle barge, to this locked room. Days ago.  

Was this punishment? Had the Emperor deemed your actions a transgression against Him?  

You buried your face in the red cloak and collapsed onto your side. The cramping of your stomach intensified. You felt weak, but found it hard to care. You’d gladly starve to death if it meant your soul could find his again. 

If you could be together again.

The door hissed open. You heard a muttered oath, then the clanking of armor. 

“Little Healer.” His face appeared in front of yours, creased with worry. “They locked you in here?”

You reached for him, and he lifted you. “I have little time, but I will get you to the infirmary.”

“You’re alive.”

“They did not even tell you-,” he growled. “Warp take them all.” His arms tightened around you. “I was wounded. I awoke in the Apothecarion earlier today.” He paused. “I am… different now.”

You pressed your face against his armor, his blue armor. “You’re alive.”

“I am, my love. I came back to you.”

Together, you thought as you slipped into unconsciousness, as we always should be.

@remembrancer-of-heresy @solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@bispecsual @kit-williams @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus @lemon-russ

@justeverythingnothingelse @scriberye @bleedingichorhearts @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @mooniequeen

@passionofthesith @noncon-photobomb @sinistermojo @b-rabbitboss @vyzz-undercover

[grapejuicestyless]

Stupid F-ing Tattoo

JJ Maybank x Fem!reader

Summery: Y/n and JJ both had a few things in common. One, love didn’t exist. And two, they both wanted her dead.

She wasn’t dead, but sometimes, he wished she was.

It was honestly fucked up, there was no silver lining. She hadn’t wronged him, or cheated, or lied. She was as guilty as a fish, and he was the shark. But he still wished she was dead.

Sometimes, JJ wondered if she wished the same thing. If some nights, if she ever were to by chance hear his laughter in a passing moment, maybe with his head hung out the back window of the Twinkie like she used to do, or in a lazy jog away from the cops, he wondered if she wished he would also, drop off the face of the earth to give her some peace.

Then he would remember that even though it didn’t feel like it, he had won. Because she had no peace, and he was certain she never would. While he was up all night wishing her to be gone, she was up all night praying for the same thing.

She often told him that the only things keeping her going were him and her dog, but mostly her dog. An old white dog, a stray she’d taken in when she was merely seven. He was as crusty as they get, and while he and his friends often joked about how gross the old thing was, she happily scratched behind his ears and reminded him of how good he was always.

But the dog was getting old, and JJ had long been extracted from her life. Sometimes he wondered if his prayers meant something, and then he would get on his knees and take them all back in a guilty sob. Because JJ didn’t want her to die, he just hated the fact that he had fallen in love with someone who couldn’t fathom love more than he ever doubted it.

JJ felt like an asshole. What kind of person prays for another persons death? Especially someone like her?

He figured he liked her so much because they were so alike. Like the seasons, they were the coolest winters and the sweltering summer all at once. They were so close, yet so far. Like January and December. Born with the same love and loyalty, but destined to fall apart, prophets forced to be divided.

His finger hovered over her contact every night, but every time he thought of how she would answer, and his tongue would go dry. She would probably only say hello, and he would say it back, and the line would go quiet for a few minutes, just breathing in each others inhales, aligning his breath to hers, and then she would ask him why he was calling. He would say he didn’t know, but he hoped she was well, and she would wish the same for him because she always did, and she always meant it more because she never wished that he was dead. Then, she would ask if it was okay to let him go, and he would ramble about something and how it was all dumb to begin with. She would listen and then the line would go dead. Dead like how he sometimes wanted her.

He couldn’t bear the idea of letting her go again, even if he didn’t realize he had the first time.

They had just gotten matching tattoos. “P4L” poked into their ankles until the skin swelled red and even air burned. They were fucked, and it was a dumb idea.

JJ said it was the stupidest fucking tattoo he’d ever gotten. She had laughed, playfully pushing his arm away and setting the needle down.

“You don’t have any other tattoos.” She reminded him softly, eyes shining in the moonlight. The twinkles reminded him of the north star, and he felt that he too found home in the same way.

“Not yet.” He promised her, his fingers slotting between hers. “I’m gonna get your name tattooed right across my palm so I can hold you for eternity.” JJ smiled, proud at his use of larger words. He’d felt like a poet then, smiling from ear to ear at himself, a dork by textbook definition.

“Well, then I’m going to get your name tattooed on my lips, so I have every reason to talk about you.” She promised him, and JJ remembered the look in her eyes, he knew it from the way John B looked at Sarah and the way Pope’s dad looked at his mom. He knew it was love.

He should never have confessed it.

He knew better than anyone that her mothers neglect had beaten her heart black and blue, and her cousins hatred towards her and her friends who had bullied her, he knew that much like him, love was a construct of some sort of fantasy, a promise of forever that could never be fulfilled, because eventually, someone has to leave.

She laughed, and then she cried. She promised JJ that she also loved him, loved him like a dog loved its owner, unwavering and loyal. But there was no way in hell she could ever love him the ways he wanted, and that hurt JJ because he had spent weeks working up the courage to even come to terms with his very real feelings.

“I can’t love you, JJ. I do, but I can’t because I can’t even promise myself that forever. I’ll break my own heart and I’ll blame you.” She had explained with tears streaming down her face. He regretted the way he yelled at her.

They never spoke again. His best friend, and the love of his life, her voice became a concept in his mind, and he swore that he had forgotten the sweetness of her smell. He hated that because that meant he was just like everyone else. Just another person who would miss her when she went.

So, he started wishing death on her. More for himself, until it became a prayer for her. She never laughed anymore, never smiled. When he saw her from afar, he’d noticed that she’d gone back to her friends she hated because suffering is better than loneliness when all you can think about is the quickest way to go.

He saw a girl floating in the ocean the a few days into the summer, her hair resembled Y/n’s and her eyes did too. It was only when he saw the way she seemed to fold herself into the water he knew it was her because only she would have the drive to try and let the ocean swallow her whole.

JJ ran as fast as he could out, wading through the crashing waves until he could wrap his arms around her. She was wet, cold, and limp. A hollow version of the woman she once was. It reminded JJ that she was just a girl, the same age as him, and he once again, felt guilty for ever wishing death on her.

When he laid her in the sand, he knew two things.

One, on her skin, she had another small tattoo scribbled down to memorize her love forever. His name, just two little letters, the same one, poked into her shoulder in the same font as their matching tattoo.

“Stupid fucking tattoo.” He cried, gritting his teeth together, his hands searching her body for any warmth he could cling to, a sign that maybe he hadn’t seen her too late.

The second thing he knew, through his salty tears and guilty heart, was something he prayed he would never have to witness, but something he had always wished for.

His prayers had been answered.

[untamedtempest]

@asgardianhammer asked: 'ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ''ʘ‿ʘ' (( realizes asks has no character limits now lmao ... i should stop ))

Send a 'ʘ‿ʘ' if your muse finds my muse attractive. / accepting

"I wasn't doubting love, but the confidence boost is appreciated. Would you like to have a seat and tell me exactly what you find soo attractive?"

[hxrtnett]

older and wiser — luke castellan

𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ luke finds you after looking for you for a month. you’re both 23 now, and your two separate lives become one again.

warning/contains. swearing, mentions of war or fighting (luke’s time in camp half-blood), arguing, hitting, speaking of religious resentment

pairing. luke castellan x mortal!fem!reader

part two to pasture child — i ended up having lots of writers block with part two, so i hope you enjoy what i could do or felt satisfied with

going from door to door, library to library, and every nearby bookstore; luke spent his days looking for you.

in the middle of manhattan, he asked left and right if someone knew your publishing building, your favorite coffee shop, your residence, anything. whenever someone asked why, he simply stated, i’m luke castellan, and they bid him good luck.

he was given false hope several times by people, he was starting to believe he’d never find you.

but, one day he entered a bookstore and asked someone if they knew you and anything about where you could be. it was like the gods for once answered his prayers, he now only prayed for you.

“no need to fret, i’m right here.” a much older, yet familiar voice came from beside him. luke’s head whipped towards the direction, seeing you standing there on the small stage. you had a few books in your hand, a name tag on it too. “you found my bookstore.” you added.

all luke could do was stare at you, finally you were in front of him. after his long time of looking, and years of missing you, you were finally in front of him.

he watched as you placed the books down, arms crossed and your demeanor guarded. you wore an outfit suited to you, one your father wouldn’t have liked. luke wondered when you spoke to your family last, you loved your mother, but she loved her religion and your father more. under your stare luke felt small, he had fought for his life over and over against gods and demi-gods. but, under your eyes, he felt as small as an ant.

“y/-” “let’s go in my office.” you spoke, turning on your heel and walking down the hallway. your employees who became your close friends knew who he was, they were silent as he followed you to your office. he looked behind him to see the sheepish eyes match his sheepish look, everyone feared you when you were frustrated.

once he was in your office you closed the door, it was comfortable and more homey rather than office-like. luke noticed the cross on the wall, and the one still around your neck. he didn’t have time to relax fully in a room that screamed you, you stole his time by starting with your interrogation that he so deserved.

“i have too many questions. far too many. so i’ll just ask, why?” you looked up from your feet and tilted your head. luke saw a woman instead of the lovesick teenager. “why?” he repeated. you nodded, jaw ticking, “why. and let that be a question for anything you want to say to explain to me why you left and never returned.” you jabbed, making him inhale in pain at your words.

he was silent for a bit. watching as you were leaned against your office desk, looking up at him. “my life is different then yours, and i don’t know how much you’ll believe me, but my father is a demigod.” he started, staring at you. you raised an eyebrow, he put up a hand to stop you. “please just let me explain it.”

and so he did, every single detail. an hour spent between you two, he told you whatever you asked and you soon realized that he wasn’t lying.

“so, the summer camp you always went to was for kids like you? and you stayed, why?” you asked, now knowing he could have left and never returned way before you two became close. luke let out a scoff, “don’t be oblivious, you know the answer,” luke said, his whole demeanor going soft.

“you.” he said desperately, “every moment i stayed was for you.” he added.

you stood in front of him, tears in your eyes. “and you then did leave when it got bad, when you became different?” you tried to piece it all together, blinking away the unexplainable tears. “yes, i would’ve stayed if i could’ve. but after my mom passed there was no protection or reason to fully.” he informed, stepping close to take your face into his hands, wiping the tears away.

“i missed you.” you whispered, your teenage heartbreak slowly mending. “i know.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “and i missed you every day. i almost died but i couldn’t let myself, i had to see you again.” he added, pulling away to study your face.

it was a lot of information to process, but you realized how different you and luke were, yet he was still the one you loved. “now, i don’t know what me being here will bring. i can’t guarantee a safe life with me, but please let me make it up to you. i’ll fight off all the things that try to hunt me, or try and get to you. please.” he promised, eyes searching yours.

“you can make it up to me, just take it all slow. i’m still in the fucking process of you being here or alive.” you answered, laughing in surprise and wiping your tears. he brought you fully into his arms, letting you both relax.

so, luke stayed with you, and found a job with your help. the bond you two built never died, only matured as you both did. luke had to learn the new things about you, and you had to learn the new things about him. it was a lot of work, but you two put in the effort.

luke sat at the dining table, drink in hand as he watched you move to the music you played, the night starting to arrive and sun starting to leave. a small smile rested on his face as you scooped your cat up, humming along to the tunes and one-handedly doing the task you needed the music for; which turned into your small dance party.

he couldn’t help but admit, your maturity looked gorgeous on you, he still felt like a teenage boy and here you were independent, stable, with figures in your bank and a figure he loved to hold.

you couldn’t help but admit his looks made him even more handsome, he was communicative finally, vulnerable to you, more muscular, and responsible. the scar on his face was also attractive, you just never said it.

you both were older and wiser, and it made you both fall in love with one another again.

you turned to luke now, walking over with a smile and placing down the cat. he fully turned to you as you stood in between his open legs, hands on his shoulders as you looked down at the familiar face.

“i’ve dreamed of a life like this for ages.” he admitted, looking up at you. luke looked at you like you were a goddess, more beautiful than ones he’d seen, nobody could deny aphrodite’s beauty but you had her beat. you blushed, “really?” you asked, hands now messing with his curls. you massaged the back of his head and he smiled, “really, darling.” he assured.

ever since he first entered the church, teary eyed from a lash from his mother, he sat with you on the pews and you held a tissue box for him.

“boys don’t cry, i’m sorry.” luke said, blotting the tears away with a tissue. you looked at him sympathetically, “it’s okay, boys cry, it’s human. we’re made the way we are by the lord for a reason, you’re allowed to cry.”

ever since then, he always came down to the church to try and catch you, ever since then he dreamed of marrying you, being with you, having a quiet and steady life away from the one he had. he still dreamed it and the potential what-if when he laid in his bunk bed late at night, in a cabin with kids like him, but none of them had a girl like you waiting for them back home.

luke rested his hand on your arm, moving your hand gently so he could kiss your palm. “you’re my saving grace.” he spoke, “i don’t know what i’d do without you.” he added. “well, we don’t have to think of the what-ifs anymore. i’m here, you’re here. we’re together.” you assured, smiling down at him. luke felt love bloom through him, “gods i love you.” he spoke, saying the lovely words he missed saying.

you smiled at him, practically glowing in front of him, in your pajama shorts and his shirt. “i love you.” you returned, kissing him to make sure he really knew.

for once, everything was right in his life.

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Last words||Charles leclerc x reader

Summary — in a world of soulmates their last words before death appear on your skin.

Word count —877

Warnings—Character death

It was one of those things people didn’t talk about unless they had to. Not out of shame but reverence. The words were private. Sacred. Etched into skin like a scar carved by the universe itself. Soulmarks, they called them. Inkless tattoos that only appeared under one condition. Most people never saw theirs.

If you were lucky, you lived your whole life with your soulmate, and the mark never came.

But if it did show up—

It meant they were gone.

You noticed it while brushing your teeth. The morning had started like any other. A quiet shuffle into the bathroom, the thrum of your heartbeat still heavy with sleep, the sharp sting of mint toothpaste on your tongue. And then, just as you leaned toward the mirror, something unfamiliar caught your eye.

A faint gray smear. Like ink bleeding under your skin, just above your heart.

You froze. Toothbrush clutched between trembling fingers. The world shrank to the size of your chest tight, pulsing, unreal.

No. No. No.

You didn’t want to read it. You didn’t want to know.

Because reading it would make it real.

But your eyes moved before your heart caught up. Your gaze was slow, reluctant—like peeling open a wound. The letters unfurled in looping script, curling into place with soft finality.

“Tell them I wasn’t scared. Tell them I loved them.”

Your knees buckled. The toothbrush hit the sink. The toothpaste hit the floor.

Charles.

You made a sound something between a gasp and a sob and scrambled for your phone with shaking hands. The screen lit up. Ten missed calls. All from names you didn’t want to see. His team principal. His PR manager. His brother. People who knew. People who couldn’t bear to be the one to tell you.

No texts.

That was worse. Too final. Too silent.

You dialed his number anyway. Because what else could you do? The call rang. And rang. And rang.

Voicemail.

Your whole body shivered. Not from cold but from the knowing. The unbearable knowing.

They told you later it was fast. That the impact had been sudden. No pain. No suffering. That he hadn’t screamed. He hadn’t been afraid.

But the words on your skin said otherwise.

Not afraid? Maybe. But he knew. He knew. And his last thought wasn’t panic. It wasn’t regret.

It was you.

You couldn’t go to the funeral in Monaco. Couldn’t bear the cameras. The whispers. The headlines asking if you were the one. If the soulmate mark had shown up. If fate had carved his final words into your skin.

You couldn’t confirm it. Couldn’t deny it.

Because your grief was a raw, gaping thing. Uncontainable. Undeniable. And so achingly personal.

So you stayed home. Closed the blinds. Turned off the race replays. You didn’t open social media. You didn’t answer the door. The world went on spinning and you curled into yourself like a wounded animal, trying to survive it.

But the mark stayed.

It didn’t fade.

And sometimes, at night when your chest ached and your heart felt like a broken clock trying to keep time it glowed. Faintly. Like starlight trapped under skin. You’d run your fingers over the words, whispering them aloud like a prayer.

They pulsed with something warm. Something gentle. Something that didn’t make sense.

He was gone. But the message still lived.

“Tell them I wasn’t scared. Tell them I loved them.”

Was it meant for his family? His team? His fans?

Or was it meant for you?

You thought about that moment endlessly. The final seconds. Maybe he saw it coming. Maybe he felt the shift in gravity, the slip of control, the way time thinned when the end drew close. And instead of fear—

He thought of love.

Of you.

That broke you more than anything else.

You couldn’t date. Couldn’t even try. How could you explain the name burned into your chest with invisible fire? How could you look someone in the eyes and pretend your heart wasn’t already spoken for by a ghost?

People told you to move on.

But you weren’t stuck.

You were holding on.

You started writing him letters you never sent. You filled notebooks. Some were angry. Some were soft. Some were just fragments—memories that flashed behind your eyes like old film. Sometimes you talked to his helmet, the one they sent back to you. It still smelled like sweat and leather and Charles.

Other times, you went down to the sea. The one he loved. The place he once told you he could breathe best. You sat in the sand with your arms wrapped around your knees and imagined him next to you. Wind in his hair. Smile crooked from sun and salt. His laugh echoing across the water.

Eventually, the world turned.

Eventually, the numbness gave way to something softer. Quieter.

Eventually, you whispered his message to the people who needed to hear it.

His mother. His brothers. His team.

They all cried.

You didn’t know if it brought them peace. But it brought you something. A piece of him to share. A final gift.

Charles Leclerc died on a Sunday.

But he loved you with his last breath.

And now, you wear it like a promise.

One you’ll keep for the rest of your life.

[imtryingbuck]

A promise is a promise.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Sihtric x fem!Reader

Summary: Sihtric always promised that he would come home to you after a battle, can he keep to his promise?

Word count: 1,557

Warnings: mentions of blood (not detailed). slight angst. a bit of fluff.

Masterlist

“Sihtric!” Your voice had his head shooting up and frantically looking around the blood soaked field, his feet slipping on blood as he tried to find you, the bodies of those who he had been fighting with tripping him over, he landed on the ground with a hard thud.

“Sihtric!” With shaky arms he rose up and frowned. He was a field but not the one he had just been on - the blood, bodies and the cries of the injured were no longer there. “Sihtric.”

“W-where are you?” He asked with a stutter, he sat on his knees as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

“You need to find me.” Your giggles hit his ears.

He stood up and looked around, a smile tugging at his lips when he realised that he was on the field just behind his home he shared with you - he would spend hours searching for the perfect wildflowers to pluck then tying them up in a neat bow before walking with a skip in his step back home, his heart beating faster when your face would light up with a large smile as you accepted his gift. “My love, where are you?”

“You have to find me!”

Hearing your soft giggle again he turned his head to the right - his smile growing as he sees the tree where the two of you shared your first kiss, the same place where had taken your virginity, the same place where he had asked you to be his wife, and the same place where you two got married. “I can’t find you.” He chuckles as he slowly approaches from behind.

“You have-” You cut yourself off with a scream as two strong arms wrap around your waist. “You scared me!”

“Sorry my love.” He chuckles as he presses a kiss to the back of your head before turning you around in his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“I come here everyday waiting for you to return.” Your bright eyes stare up at him as his own never left your face as if he was mesmerised. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Just as he went to speak the air went freezing cold - he frowned as you who always complains of being cold didn’t seem to bat an eye at the change of temperature. You look up at the sky and he follows your action, his frown deepens when it starts raining yet there were no dark clouds, he was the only one that was getting drenched as you stood there in his arms dry and warm. “W-what is happening?”

“You shouldn’t be here, Sihtric.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay.” His eyes close as your warm hand touches his cheek. When he opens them again the two of you are no longer standing in front of the tree where you carved your initials into the bark, but you're both standing inside of the home you built together.

“W-what? Love, what is happening?”

He stands there in front of the hearth that wasn’t lit like it always was and watches you walk into the bedroom. “You shouldn’t be here, Sihtric.” You repeat.

“Love?” He follows behind you into the room that looked exactly the same as it did the day he left for battle. His mismatched eyes stay on you as you move to the left side of the room and that’s when he sees a cradle. “I- what?”

“I never get the chance to tell you that our prayers get answered.” You look up at him with a sad smile and wave him over. As he takes slow steps towards you he hears a distressed cry coming from inside of the homemade cradle. Inside was a babe, tiny and restless, with no face they cried. “The babe doesn’t settle.”

“Why?”

“Because their father isn’t here.”

“B-but I am, I’m here, I wouldn’t leave you both!” He panics, gently grabbing your arm, he searches your face for any sign that you believe him. “The babe…”

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“T-they have no face.”

You giggle, and shake your head. “They do. You just can’t see it because you never meet them.”

“I- I don’t- Y/n please tell me what is going on!” Taking his hands in yours the scene changes once again, he winces as the sun blinds him, you're both standing in front of the tree again but this time there’s stones placed there, the faceless babe is now a young boy is also there running around giggling as a dog chases him. “What is this?”

“We come here everyday.” You smile as you place a small bouquet of wildflowers on the stones. “Every week our child, the same one we prayed for, helps me find the best flowers to place here.”

“Y/n, love, I don’t understand.”

“You promised to come back to me. You lied.”

He shakes his head as a small choked sob leaves his lips. “No, no, I-I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“But you did.” Turning to face him smiling as the child runs past you both. “Your body was on a cart, Finan stayed by your side the whole time and refused to leave you. Uhtred is the one that tells me you died. Osferth is the one that grabs me when I fall.”

“No- no this is wrong! I always come home to you!” His eyes frantically look around, tears blurring his vision as everything around him starts disappearing.

The air gets cold and it starts raining again.

“Sihtric, look at me.”

“I don’t want to leave you!” His hands shakily grab at your arm and face. “I don’t want- I need to come back! I can’t- I don’t- please.”

Your warm hands rest against his freezing cold cheeks, a small smile on your lips as you stand up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips. “None of this is real. The rain? It’s Finans tears. The coldness is your body giving up. It’s not real, at least not yet.”

“What do I do?”

“You need to wake up.”

“W-what?”

Smiling softly, you press a kiss to his forehead. “Wake up Sihtric.”

Finan gasped in relief as Sihtric’s eyes opened suddenly, wiping the tears from his cheeks as his best friend - his brother took in a deep stuttering breath. “I thought you were dead!”

“N-not yet.”

“Don’t do that again!” Uthred’s worried voice came from the right side of him.

“Sorry Lord.” Closing his eyes as the pain intensified, he saw you standing by the tree waiting for him, a soft smile on your lips as your hand rested on your stomach. “I need to go home.”

“We’ll get you home.”

“Aye but I’m not the one telling your wife that you nearly died.”

“Why?” Osferth chuckled.

“Because she’ll hit me.” The Irishman grumbles. “She’s mean to me sometimes.”

Despite being in pain Sihtric laughed along with the others, he knew his wife wasn’t mean - well unless she was hungry. All he wanted now that the battle was over and they had won was go home and be wrapped up in the safety of his wife’s arms.

It took three weeks for them to arrive back home due to them having to wait for Sihtric to heal enough for him to travel.

There you was, beautiful as the day he laid eyes on you, standing beside Gisela with a worried look on your face when you see him being held up by Finan and Osferth. “W-what happened?”

“Nothing my love.” The whole time he couldn’t take his eyes off of your stomach, not even as his brothers walked him home so you could take care of him. He doesn’t realise that Finan and Osferth have left you two alone until you get his attention, placing his hand on your stomach he whispers. “I came back.”

“I have something to tell you.”

“You're with child. I know.”

“H-how-“

“I saw you and the babe, a boy, you told me to wake up.” Pulling you closer to him he wraps his arms around you. “You saved me.”

Sihtric stands in the doorway watching as you stand by the cradle that he had made shortly after he was fully healed, a soft cry comes from within. “He knows his father is here.”

Chucking softly he makes his way over, placing a hand on your back as he looks at his son. “He has your eyes.”

“And your nose.” You giggled.

“You said he was beautiful, and you were right.”

You lean over and press a kiss to your son's head and start to get ready for bed whilst your husband still watches over the two month old. “Are you coming to bed?”

“I will soon, my love.” He always had you as a reason to come back home from each battle no matter how bad they were, but now he had you and your son waiting for him. That night he made a promise to his son that he would always be there, and he was never going to break that promise. “I love you little one.”

“Sihtric.” A grin on his lips as your tired voice called for him from the bed the two of you shared together, he glanced over to you seeing you lazily patting his side of the bed.

“I’m here, my love.”

Tags: @cheesesandwichsanto

[anticipayosbot]

And they were neighbours! Chapter 1

Dr Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!plus size reader

Okay y'all, here goes nothing. This is my first fic and of course it has to be with Dr Robby. My work is intended to be inclusive, if you are a WOC and feel like my writing is not inclusive, please let me know so I can change it :)

DO NOT UPLOAD MY WORK TO ANY AI ENGINES, IF YOU DO SO I WILL FIND YOU AND GIVE YOU HELL

This is just pure fluff but my work is 18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

Dr Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!plus size reader

Tags: fluff, robby being a self deprecating prick, reader being horny for that old man on main

word count: 0,8 k, it is a short one buttttttttt they will be longer!!!!

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

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You had made many mistakes in your life, but allowing yourself to fantasize about your much older, very much not interested in you and emotionally unavailable neighbour might be the worst of them. Michael Robinavitch was a good neighbour, he helped you mount your new tv, gave you your mail when they delivered it to his door for the thousandth time and he even lent you a cup of sugar when you needed it; you weren’t a bad acquaintance yourself, never listened to loud music after 10 pm, always kept your apartment door tidy and you even gifted Michael an odd batch of cookies that one time. These were all facts, facts that you told yourself when the guilt of wanting your neighbour to fuck you through the mattress ate at you. Today was such a day when you knew you were going to bump into Michael, either on the elevator or the hallway, so you repeated your good deeds to yourself as a mantra while simultaneously willing your face to not break into the dopiest smile known to man when you inevitably saw the physician. Maybe God had answered your prayers and this time you would look at him and feel nothing, or you would suddenly develop a stronger moral compass and feel disgusted by the idea of dating a man almost 20 plus years your senior or… fuck. 

“Hi kid, you going up?” Michael asked you softly with a sweet smile

“Hi” you answered shyly, refusing to meet his eye “Yup, and you?” yeah, this whole not-making-a-fool-of-yourself situation was not going to happen today.“Oh god” you felt shame begin to creep up your spine, thankfully, Robby just chuckled and pressed the button for the 7th floor. 

These were the longest 30 seconds of your life, why did you have to make everything so fucking weird? You acted normal towards him before, so surely he must notice your little schoolgirl crush attitude now, right? With a sigh, you tucked your hair behind your ear and looked at Michael from the corner of your eye, only to find him looking at you. Just when you were about to ask him about his day, the elevator doors opened and he was gesturing for you to exit first. This was the moment, you just had to do what your friend Ana told you and be brave for 30 seconds. You turned to him and smiled coyly. 

“Um, I was wondering if you ever wanted to grab a cup of coffee?” Michael looked at you like you had grown a second head, but you were being brave for those 30 fucking seconds even if it took all of your dignity “Maybe at the new coffee shop down the street? They make great coo-”

“Look, sweetheart, I am very flattered but you shouldn’t waste your time on an old man like me. Why don’t you ask John from 3 B? He’s about your age”

At that exact moment, all of your shyness and awkwardness disappeared

“Michael, I am a grown woman, I can decide who I wanna waste my time on by myself” Yes, maybe your words had a bite to them, but who was he to tell you what to do with your life? Oh… never in one of your many scenarios did you stop to think that maybe your neighbour was into someone thinner, shame and anger flooded your bones and with it came the impulsivity “Is it because I’m fat? Because if it is then I am kind of disappointed in you, in fact, I expected more from a man as kind as your-” Michael put a hand in your arm and that made you look up to him, his gaze was soft yet disappointed? You couldn’t quite work out what he was trying to convey with his eyes

“Sweetheart, you are a very beautiful woman and you are right, you are grown and can decide with whom you want to spend your time…” He ruffled his hair, a nervous tick of his as you had learned “But I am much older than you, I could be your father” 

“But you aren’t” you said while looking up at him defiantly. 

Michael sighed and let out a dry chuckle “Kid, I have a lot of baggage, I sleep like shit, I’m married to the job and… I don’t think I can give you the softness you deserve”

“But-” 

“End of discussion”

He gave you one of those looks, the ones that made you feel like a petulant child being scolded for asking for yet another toy. You sighed and ran your hands through your face, so much for those 30 seconds of boldness, just as you were about to turn around and open your apartment door; you looked up at him with a soft smile

“You know, Michael, you deserve softness too. Have a good night”

You turned around and entered your apartment without looking back, when you closed the door, you felt your lips curl into a smile; maybe it would take more than 30 seconds of boldness to get Michael to give you an honest answer.

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TAGLIST: @yeyinde

If you want to be added to the taglist lmk!!!!! Love you :)

[butwhyduh]

B my friend I am begging for more Wally fics. Please, what do I have to do?

The multitude of answers that could send me directly to the second circle of hell…

“Get on your knees…please.”

Warning: smut

“You don’t have to say please. I want you to tell me what to do,” you said before kneeling before him. Your hands immediately kneaded the flesh on his thighs through his thin sweatpants. They were strong and lean and muscular. Definitely a perk dating the fastest man alive.

“Oh, okay. Uhh yeah now that you’re on your knees… uh, can you,” Wally started but his cheeks were already turning red. He couldn’t seem to tell you what to do despite your request.

“What can I do for you,” you asked looking up at him suggestively. You tried not to control the situation but that’s literally what you trained your entire life to be so giving over control wasn’t natural. Your hands ran up his thighs slowly. Wally inhaled quickly.

“Right. Uhh, can you blow-blow me?” He asked shyly. It was adorable. You kissed his thigh.

“Do you want me to suck your cock, baby?”

He shivered as your fingers ran along the seam of his pants before sliding them down. He was already semi hard. Wally finally understood your question and nodded quickly.

“Words.”

“Please suck my dick,” he stammered and you grinned up at him.

“Absolutely my pleasure,” you said before wrapping your hand around him. You looked up at him through your lashes while sliding your tongue along his length. He inhaled roughly as just the teasing.

When you finally put him in your mouth, Wally grabbed the table behind him to keep his knees from buckling. He never had a complaint about your technique. You sucked him off with one hand holding him in place. Your other hand unbuttoned and slid off your top and bra. He groaned with you started teasing your tit at the same time.

After just a minute he was pulling back. You looked up at him confused. His face was flushed and he was breathing hard.

“I want you,” he said while pulling you up to kiss. His wet hard cock ran across your stomach. Wally’s hands made quick work of pulling the rest of your clothes off. “Fucking beautiful,” he muttered under his breath. “Can I fuck you?”

“Please,” you breathed as you grinded together.

Wally grabbed you by the waist and lifted you up before slowly sliding his cock in. You could feel every inch. He groaned and froze as he bottomed out.

“Move,” you all but begged. He let out a choked laugh.

“Can’t. Give me a sec. I don’t want to cum,” he admitted. His fingers kneaded your hips.

“Wall, we can go another round. Please just fuck me,” you begged while trying to move your hips. He groaned loudly before moving his hips. It was erratic just like his breathing. He would thrust quickly before forcing himself to stop.

It was only a minute before you felt him shudder before filling you. Wally whined and shoved deeper in pleasure. “Sorry,” he breathed.

“No, want it,” you replied. He quickly turned you to sit on the table. Speedster quickness made refractory time almost none. Wally sat a rough pace as he pressed you onto the table. Finally he had taken what he wanted.

“Wait,” he said before pulling out. You resisted the urge to wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

“Wall,” you whimpered.

He sat you back on the ground before turning you around and pressing your chest onto the table before taking you from behind. His hand actually held your hair. This was what you wanted, Wally taking control.

“There,” you breathed and his fingers slid down to rub at your clit as he fucked into you. You moaned his name over and over like a prayer as he hit the perfect spot. “Please,” you whined mindlessly. You didn’t even know what you were begging for but Wally seemed to know.

“I’ve got you.”

He could feel you tightening around him as your orgasm drew closer. A few well placed strokes with his finger on your clit and you cried out his name as you came. Wally lasted all of 12 seconds longer before finishing as well. He thrusts through both of your highs.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed. He kissed your shoulder before pulling up.

“That was-“

“Not finished,” you replied. “If you don’t take me upstairs in the next 10 seconds and fuck me like it’s your job, I will start without you.”

“Oh shit,” he replied before scooping you up and racing upstairs.

“Shut the door. You’re not going anywhere,” you replied. Wally has probably never ran so fast in his life to comply. It was going to be a fun night.

[miryum]

"Negotiation"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“L/n,” Wayne rapped his fist on Y/n’s desk urgently. “There was a botched B&E at a jewellery store on Benbrock that just turned into a hostage situation.” He sighed and said, “they want you to be the negotiator.”

Y/n gasped and let out a strangled noise of excitement. “Oh my God, my prayers have finally been answered!”

“You pray for a hostage situation?” Jason asked incredulously.

“Yes, I did.” Y/n turned to him, serious as stone. “Every single day.”

Jason frowned, more concerned for the hostages after they heard Y/n’s jokes than Y/n herself. He knew she could handle herself. ”I don't understand. Why isn't ESU handling this?”

“Apparently, the hostage-taker asked for Y/n by name.” Wayne raised a brow and stared down at his detective like she had an answer.

“Oh, it's getting even cooler!” Y/n hummed and contemplated, “man, I wonder who it is. Maybe it's the sister of someone I put away for life. Ooh! Or the identical twin of someone I put away for life. Ooh! Or the fraternal twin of-”

Captain Wayne cut off her tangent. “L/n! Just get down there! And take Drake with you.”

“You got it!” Y/n beamed and jumped up. “Yep, yep, yep.” She turned to Tim who had come to stand next to her. “How do I look? Police-y enough?” She waved him off before he could answer. “It doesn't matter. Let's go negotiate!”

When Tim and Y/n got the the jewellery store, the block was closed off and police cars were surrounding the building, sirens going on and off periodically. Y/n waltzed up to the area and pronounced, “don’t panic, everyone, I'm here.” An officer beckoned her over and Y/n introduced herself. “I'm Y/n L/n, the negotiator.”

The man stared at her, unimpressed. “So you're Y/n L/n?”

“The negotiator, yes. And… who are you?”

“Arnold Flass, ESU. This was my crime scene before you bozos got here.”

Tim sipped on his coffee before noting, “nice to meet you too, Arnold.”

“I've spent ten years as a negotiator and you just took my first hostage situation,” Arnold exclaimed. “All I've done up until now is talk jumpers off of rooftops.”

“Well, that must be satisfying in its own way, right?” Y/n offered. Tim walked off to talk to a more senior, professional officer.

Arnold scoffed. “Yeah, really satisfying saving a crazy person's life. Here's a little advice: I don't like you.”

“Not so much advice as a hurtful statement based on limited interaction,” Y/n muttered.

“He wants to talk to you,” Tim came back and motioned to Y/n.

Arnold rolled his eyes and ripped the label off his vest. He handed it to Y/n begrudgingly. “Get the hell in there.”

“Oh, it says ‘negotiator’ on it.” Y/n happily put it on and weaved through the crowd of officers and bystanders. She took a bullhorn from a cop and called into it, “this is Y/n L/n. I am unarmed and I'm approaching the building.” The door swung open ominously and Y/n glanced back at Tim. He gave her a nod of encouragement. “You wanted to talk to me?” Y/n stepped into the jewellery store, peeking around the corner.

“Keep those hands in the air,” a voice commanded. Then, in a lighter tone, the voice joked, “and wave 'em like you just don't care.”

“What?” Y/n’s brows furrowed, confused.

The hostage-taker finally came into view. “I'm just messing with you, L/n.” Roy Harper grinned. “Put your hands down, give me a hug, darling.”

“Roy!” 

“Okay, so are we gonna talk about it?” Steph slipped into the seat next to Jason and leaned on his desk.

“Nope.”

“Todd, you frustrate me,” Damian said. Steph blinked at him, not realising he was listening in.

Jason’s chest clenched. “There is nothing we need to talk about.”

“I disagree,” Damian muttered. 

“Listen,” Jason turned away from his computer and Steph knew that it was about to get real. “I just went out on another date with Rose. She’s a lovely girl and I was thinking of taking it to the next step. I’m planning on asking her to be my official girlfriend tomorrow night.”

Steph shook her head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work. You see, my big plan in life is to push you and Y/n together so you can all be happy and possibly make even cuter babies.” 

Jason blushed and swallowed thickly. “I’m not interested in L/n.” 

Damian scoffed. “Brown, we have a lie detector at the precinct, correct?”

Steph grinned, eyes lighting up with mischief. “Hey…. Richard!” she called to Dick. “Wanna have a little fun?” Dick looked up, beaming impishly.

“I gotta admit, man,” Roy said, shrugging. “I thought you'd be more happy to see me. Why’re you being so weird?”

“Oh, I don't know.” Y/n pursed her lips together. “I didn't sleep well last night, so I’m just tired. Oh, and also, this is a hostage situation!”

“Wow!” Roy sucked in a dramatic breath. “It's like that.”

“Yes, it's like that. What the hell, man? You called me, remember? You promised me that you wouldn’t do anything to wind up in jail!” Y/n referenced the time when Roy called her in the middle of the night to promise to stop his life as a criminal.

“I didn’t! I work at Tiffany and Co. now.” He rested a proud hand on his chest. ”I sell luxury jewels to the rich and famous and I do it legally. Last week I sold a sapphire necklace to the dude who played Johnny in Hotel Transylvania.”

“You met Johnny?” Y/n exclaimed. “Was he cool? Does he actually like vampires in real life? Wait- no.” She caught herself. “We’re not chatting right now. You have three hostages.”

“You mean Pam and the two Bobs?” Roy looked at the three people on the floor, rope loosely tied around their wrists. “They’re not hostages. I prefer to call them ‘collateral friendships.’ I gave them each one hundred bucks out of my own pocket.”

One of the Bobs spoke up. “Thanks again, Roy.”

The other Bob nodded his head in agreement. “You’re the man, Roy.”

Pam stuttered, “a-actually, I'd rather not be a hostage.”

“Pam hasn't come around to me yet.” Roy shrugged. “Tell her I'm a nice person, Y/n.”

“I'm so sorry,” Y/n said to Pam.

“Officer, are you friends with this criminal?” Pam asked, aghast.

Y/n’s nose scrunched up. “Not really…”

However, Roy replied at the same time, “absolutely, best friends.”

“It's a layered relationship, Pam,” Y/n defended.

“Best friends,” Roy corrected.

”Harper,” Y/n hissed, pulling him towards the door. “What is going on, dude?”

“This isn't my fault, darling!” Roy protested. “Two years ago before I went straight, I stole a big ruby from a drug dealer: Jack Napier.”

“Oh, no, Roy.” Y/n groaned. ”He's a bad guy.”

Roy whined, “I know! When I realised it was his jewel, I torched the briefcase it was in along with the drugs that were in there! Who the hell puts drugs and rubies in the same briefcase?!”

“Oh, no, Roy,” Y/n groaned in the same pitch as before. ”Briefcase drugs?”

“Millions of dollars of them! Napier just found out it was me. Said I had to do a job for him to pay off my debt.”

“But did you tell him you went straight? Did you tell him about Johnny?” Y/n asked desperately.

“I did. He said he didn’t watch Hotel Transylvania.” 

“Oh, this guy is the worst.”

“I know.” Roy’s voice turned desperate and low. “L/n, he said he's gonna kill Lian if I don't do this job.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. “He can't do that. I won’t let him do that. The GCPD can help you guys. We can put you in witness protection!”

Roy shook his head. “I can’t mess up my daughter’s life ‘cause of my mistakes. That's why I'm here stealing this big ‘ole bag of rubies; to make up for the one I stole. Y/n, you know how dangerous this guy can be.” He took a breath. “I need you to help me save my daughter.”

“How can I help?” Y/n responded immediately. 

“Easy. I have a plan that's good for everyone. All I need is for you to-”

“-let him go so he can arrange a drop with Napier.” Y/n explained Roy’s plan to Tim. “We arrest Napier, save Lian, Roy turns himself in, and why is that amazing, Tim?”

“Napier’s a huge crime boss,” Tim answered.

“Aaaand what else?”

“GCPD's been trying to get Napier for years.”

“And?”

“That's it.”

“Yeah, it is.” Y/n said, “so, since we all agree, I'll go tell Roy the plan is on.” She swung around to go back inside, but Arnold stopped her.

“No, we don't all agree. He's trapped and frantic. Everything he told you is a lie.”

“Why do you say he's lying?” Y/n asked.

Arnold frowned. “That's all negotiating is. Two liars lie until one liar stands too close to the window and gets shot in the head.”

Y/n scoffed loudly. “That can't be all negotiating is!” She noticed Tim’s head lolling to the side. “Timmy, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but have some more coffee.”

“It absolutely is. Now, get in there and coax him to a window.” Arnold pressed a button on his walkie talkie. “Snipers to one. The window plan is on. I repeat: The window plan is on.”

“No, no, no, no, no!” Y/n cried and tugged the walkie talkie away from Arnold. “Snipers to zero! Snipers take a nap. The nap plan is on. It's nap time, snipers!” 

A couple minutes later, Y/n regretfully told Roy, “ESU won't take your deal. They think you're lying.”

“I'm not lying!” Roy gasped dramatically, offended. “I don't wanna be a criminal. I love my life as an average citizen. I voted for the first time this year! It was huge. Lian helped me fill in the little boxes. She chose Ed Breakfast for school board.”

“Who?”

“I don't know,” Roy muttered. “He had a funny name. He deserves a shot.”

“That's exactly why I voted for Stacy Ladle! Anyway, I'm sorry, but they're not cutting a deal.”

“So that's it?” Roy sighed. “I gotta turn myself in and let Napier kill Lian? You’ll take care of her, right?”

 Y/n’s heart broke and she could feel a plan formulating in her mind. “Actually… there might be another way.”

“Alright, Todd.” Dick strutted in front of Jason. “We’re gonna do this one time and one time only. Do you have feelings for Y/n?” 

“Are you shitting me?” Jason’s head fell into his hands. He was strapped to a lie detector test that Steph was currently monitoring. “We’re actually doing this?”

“Yep!” Dick said. “We have to know. Now, let’s go over the evidence.”

Damian wheeled in a large cork-board which was covered in index cards, push pins, and signature red string. The index cards said things like: ‘Halloween incident,’ ‘Valentine’s Day nicknames,’ ‘1000 pushups blanket,’ ‘googly eyes,’ ‘lack of dates,’ and more.

As Jason read over the cards, his face slowly got more and more red. Dick gleefully snapped a polaroid picture of Jason’s current face and secured it to the board, adding it as another factor of evidence. 

Roy shouted from the doorway of the jewellery store. “I've taken your negotiator hostage! If you come in here, I will shoot her.”

Y/n wailed, “just do whatever he says! My life is in his hands! Please!” 

Roy slammed the door behind them and then broke out in giggles. “That was so much fun!”

“Oh, man, you sounded really scary.” Y/n exhaled.

“No, no, it was all you. The tremble in your voice sold it. ‘Just do whatever he says.’” Roy mimicked Y/n’s panicked voice

“I mean, I just made that up. Ah, I was so in the moment.” Y/n silently praised herself on her acting skills.

“Darling, seriously? You are a great hostage,” Roy complimented.

“Aw, thanks, Harper. You're a great hostage-taker.”

Outside, Arnold was talking to Tim, lamenting, “I can't believe L/n got taken hostage. The good news is… I'm now the negotiator. Finally!” He slapped another marker labelled ‘negotiator’ on. 

“Congratulations,” Tim said dryly.

“I've been waiting for this moment for so long!” Arnold exclaimed.

Roy’s voice from the bullhorn cut him off. “I'm ready to negotiate. But I'll only talk to Tim Drake.”

“That's me, Arnold.” Tim ripped Arnold’s label off and placed it on himself.

“Oh, come on!”

“Welcome, my man!” Roy waved to Tim when the latter entered the store. “I don’t think we’ve met before, have we? I’m Y/n’s bestie. I’m a hugger; bring it in.” He walked over to Tim with open arms.

Tim, however, yanked on one of those arms and looped it over Roy’s head, effectively holding him in place. “Roy Harper, you're under arrest.”

“Holy fuck, Tim’s strong?” Y/n mumbled. “But he’s so lanky and only runs on coffee. Wait, Tim, stop.”

“What's going on?” Tim grunted as he tried to place cuffs on Roy.

“Look, this is not really a hostage situation. I mean, Pam and the two Bobs are definitely being held against their will, but not for much longer.”

Roy spoke up, trying to be helpful. “Y/n’s helping me take down Napier.”

“We can't do it without you,” Y/n pleaded.

“Seriously, L/n?” Tim scoffed. “Isn’t this the guy that you and Cass tried to take down? The one you did a thousand push ups for?” 

“You did a thousand push ups for me?” Roy cooed. 

“Not important.” 

“This is like that story my dad told me as a little kid. He used to quiz me on fables from different cultures.” Tim said, finally releasing Roy. “You're the frog and he's a scorpion. You're gonna help him across the river. In the end, he'll sting you. And then you'll both drown.”

“Geez, that's dark.” Y/n grimaced.

“Yeah, I’d never tell Lian that story,” Roy said.

“My parents didn't read to me at all,” Y/n commented. “I just watched cartoons ’till I fell asleep. Do you think that our childhoods shape the adults we become?” She hummed thoughtfully.

“They do,” Roy and Tim said at the same time.

“And cartoons shaped you into a naive little frog,” Tim said.

“Okay, first off,” Y/n held up a finger. “Little frogs are adorable, and second, he's not that kind of scorpion anymore.”

“I'm a changed bug,” Roy said.

“Actually, scorpions are arthropods.” Tim and Y/n spoke together. Tim looked at her, surprised. “What?” She shrugged. “I listened to the documentary you made us watch. Tim, I know he used to be a criminal and has fooled me in the past, and yes, he is currently engaged in criminal activity.”

“Innocent until proven guilty,” Roy reminded Tim. “But yes, I technically am robbing the store.”

“But, Tim, his daughter is in danger and we have to help her. He agreed to turn himself in when this is all over. Right, Roy?” Y/n scrutinised him.

“I promise.”

Tim sighed. “Cass warned me about him. But okay. What do you need from me?”

“We have an airtight plan.” Roy grinned. He poked the bullhorn out of the door and shouted, ”all we demand is pizza!”

“I’m in a relationship with Rose,” Jason insisted.

“You’re not answering the question!” Dick exclaimed, growing more frustrated. 

“That’s because the question is stupid and doesn’t need to be answered!”

“Todd, you must have lost half your brain if you think you’re fooling us.” Damian didn’t look impressed.

“Jason,” Steph exhaled. “By not answering the question, you’re answering the question.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t make sense.” Jason shot back lamely.

“It’s okay to have feelings for L/n.” Steph said, oddly calmly. “You’re not admitting defeat.”

“No, I’m aware, but just…” he sighed heavily and stared down at the table. “What if she doesn’t like me back?”

Steph slowly shut off the computer and the lie detector. Damian had a rare look of sympathy glazing over his eyes. “But she does,” Dick said softly. “She’s told all of us herself. Right, guys?” he asked his friends. 

“If I had a nickel…” Steph smiled and huffed, trailing off.

“She’s interrupted many movie nights with tangents of you,” Damian frowned at the fact. He had yet to finish The Gladiator because of Y/n.

“We'll be safe here,” Roy directed Y/n towards a small, neon-lit shop. Tim had provided them a distraction long enough for Roy and Y/n to sneak away. Tim said he would meet with them later. “I know the owner. He'd never turn me in.”

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded along knowingly. “I have the same relationship with the guy who runs this laser tag place I love. I- I mean, gun range.”

Roy chuckled. “L/n, why’re you lying to me, huh? I love laser tag! We gotta go sometime, darling.” He led her inside the place and to a back room which had a large screen and a karaoke machine plugged in and ready to go.

Y/n beamed. “I was hoping you'd say that. Alright, let's text Napier and set up the drop.”

“Okay, yeah. ‘Got the diamonds. Let's meet.’” He clicked his phone and the message was sent. “Done.”

“Okay, now we wait.” She clicked her tongue and hummed. “You know, it’s kinda weird, sitting silently in a private karaoke room, not singing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “But we're on a mission, so, you know, we gotta stay focused.”

“True, true, true, true, true, true.”

“So I wake in the morning and I step outside and I TAKE a deep breath and I GET! REAL! HIGH! And I scream at the top of my lungs ‘WHAT’S GOIN’ ON?’” Roy sang in a falsetto as Y/n accompanied him in a lower tone.

In the middle of the song, Roy’s phone dinged and he paused the song. “Ugh. It’s Napier.”

Y/n pouted in disappointment. “Yeah….”

“The drop is set for 5:00 p.m.” Roy informed her. 

“Let's do this.”

“Totally. Although…” Roy shot Y/n a knowing look. “That is an hour and a half from now.”

“And the drop point is actually pretty close to here,” Y/n added.

“So..."

“DANCING QUEEN! YOUNG AND SWEET! ONLY SEVENTEEN OOOOOOOH…”

Tim walked into the room and slowly sipped on his coffee, looking more tired than ever.

“I feel more sympathy for our perps now.” Jason ripped the lie detector off himself. 

“Can you please just admit that at some point, past or present, you’ve had feelings for Y/n L/n?” Dick begged. They had spent over three hours in the interrogation room, grilling Jason on his feelings and not getting any work done.

“If it makes you let me go, then yes.” 

“I’ll take it!” Steph cried. “It’s close enough!”

“I still say I could’ve made fine use out of a pair of pliers.” Damian glared at Jason. Jason couldn’t help but shudder under his stare. 

“Torture me all you want,” Jason said. “But I don’t like Y/n like that. She’s like a sister to me. We’ve worked together for over four years. I don’t love her romantically.” 

If he had still been connected to the lie detector, its lines would’ve jumped widely.

Steph said quietly, “just know this: to remember is to love.”

Roy explained the plan to Tim and Y/n in the parking lot where Napier would meet them. “First, a jeweller will come out and inspect the rubies. Then, when he gives the okay, Napier will come and get them.”

“And then I'll take him down.” Y/n cracked her knuckles dramatically.

“Here we go,” Roy mumbled as an expensive car pulled up and a thin man got out. Harper, Drake, and L/n got out of Y/n’s old car and Roy greeted, “What's up, dude? Did anybody ever tell you that you look like the most interesting man in the world? You get that a lot?” After an awkward silence, Roy inhaled sharply. “Geez, I get it. We're not friends.”

The thin man held out his hand and Roy placed the sack of small rubies in it. The man inspected a random ruby and then nodded. Another man got out of the car and Roy said, “There he is. Napier! What's up, Mr. Napier? How’re you doing?” Napier’s car pulled away to give them some privacy.

“Shut up.” Napier licked his lips. “Give me the rubies.”

A new voice shouted from the other end of the parking lot. “L/N!” 

Y/n cringed. “No, no, no, not now.”

Arnold yelled out, “I tracked your phone, idiot. I knew you were working with this criminal! You were gonna double cross us!”

Y/n’s head whipped back to Napier, but he was already running down the street, phone pressed to his ear, likely calling his driver.

Arnold gasped. “That's Napier. Harper wasn’t lying. Well, we gotta arrest him!” Arnold grabbed Y/n’s vest and pulled her back.

“Y/n, he's running!” Tim cried, already in pursuit of Napier.

“Lemme go!” Y/n tried to yank away.

“Only if I get the collar and one hundred percent of the credit.” Arnold growled.

“Are you negotiating right now?”

“Always.”

“Okay, that was actually a really cool line. Deal. Let’s do it.” She pointed harshly at Roy. “Stay. Here.”

“Okay.” Roy shrugged.

Y/n and Arnold ran off after Napier, catching up to Tim. “GCPD!” Tim shouted. “Stop and put your hands in the air!” Napier continued running and Tim groaned. “Why don’t they ever listen?”

“Drake,” Y/n swerved towards another street. “I’ll block him off!”

“Not without me, you won’t!” Arnold changed direction and sprinted after Y/n. 

Napier’s eyes grew wide when he saw Y/n and Arnold appear ahead of him. He glanced over his shoulder and when he saw Tim, still in pursuit, he cried out in frustration. Y/n tackled him to the ground and threw handcuffs on him. After she was done Mirandizing him, she apologised to Arnold. “Sorry I ran out on you at the jewellery store. But I couldn't let this guy get away.”

“Look, I'm fine with it.” Arnold said. “Arresting Napier’s gonna get me a promotion and at the end of the day, that's what this is all about.”

Y/n squinted at him. “Right, that and getting a major drug lord off the streets.”

“Yeah, right. I don't care about that.”

Y/n stared at him, wide-eyed before brushing him off. “Whatever. Let's bring in Roy Harper.” She left Napier with Tim and ran back to the parking lot. Finding it empty, she cried, “Oh, fucking hell! Where is he? Roy? Roy?!”

Arnold saddled up behind her. “Don't worry. We'll get him. At least we have Napier and the rubies.”

Y/n simply shouted, “Roy!”

“Why are you still calling for him?”

“ROY!”

Arnold realised, “oh my God, he has the rubies, doesn't he?”

“Roy!” Y/n quickly composed her wits and muttered to herself, “I'm sure Harper didn't run off with the rubies. I bet he's looking for me right now. You know what, I bet he's worried that I’m in trouble!” She frantically pulled out her phone. “I'll just call him and put his mind at ease.”

Arnold raised a brow. “Lady, he's already gone.” He placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder and Y/n pushed him off, giving him an icy glare. “He's not gonna picking up.” Y/n’s jaw clenched at Arnold’s words.

Suddenly, Roy’s voice filtered through her phone and she breathed a sigh of relief. “What's up, L/n?”

“Ha!” Y/n pointed a victorious finger at Arnold. “He did pick up. In your-”

“This is goodbye forever,” Roy cut her off.

“No!” Y/n stomped her foot. “I can't believe you deceived me. I can't believe you used my love for Lian against me.”

“I love that you love her.”

“Of course I do! She’s the living embodiment of the reminder that childhood innocence never dies.”

“Amen,” he agreed. “But, I wasn't lying though. Napier was gonna hurt her and you saved her life. Buuuut then I was all alone with the rubies and next thing I know, I'm hotwiring a car and driving away.

”But I thought you liked being a good citizen? You voted Ed Breakfast for school board!” Y/n whined. 

“And he immediately had a sex scandal.” Roy reminded her. “It was very disillusioning.”

“Understandable. Our democracy is crumbling. But, Roy, this is not what we’re talking about. They could take my badge!” 

“Tim was right.” Roy smiled faintly. “I'm a scorpion. I thought you knew me better by now. I'm sorry I can't be the man you want me to be.”

“Damn it, stop being so romantic.” Y/n choked on her words and begged, “now turn around and come back to me, you fool?” The line clicked and she called, “hello? Hello? He's gone…. He broke my heart.” Tim walked up behind her as her lip quivered theatrically. She turned towards her fellow detective and hugged him tightly. “Now you tell me everything's gonna be okay, Timmy boy!”

“Everything's gonna be okay,” Tim reassured monotonously.

“You don't know that, Tim!”

“I just got off the phone with the brass,” Captain Wayne said to Y/n. “It doesn't look good. They're still trying to decide on a punishment for your actions.”

Y/n sniffed and asked meekly, “Did you tell them I feel so bad I have a tummy ache?”

“I did. They were unaffected.”

“Are you sure it’s not cramps?” Jason pushed a box of chocolate towards his coworker. “It is your time of the month.”

Y/n grimaced in disgust. “It’s creepy that you know that.”

“Not really,” Tim said. “You, Steph, and Cass have all synced up. We all know when to have desserts in our desks.”

“I think even Kori is synced up to you guys,” Dick added. “Somehow.”

“So no.” Damian spoke up. “In this instance, Todd isn’t creepy.”

Y/n looked up at Wayne as if to ask his opinion on this matter. All he said is, “I have no comment to add in this conversation. Back to the topic at hand, the brass said they could’ve justified your tactics if you'd gotten Napier and the rubies, but as things stand, there are no rubies.” He sighed and said, “you're looking at a suspension, maybe worse. Unless you can track down Harper and recover those rubies.”

“Can they wait twelve months?” Y/n asked hopefully. “I usually run into him about once a year.” Her eyes caught on something on her desk. “Wait a minute. What doth we have here?”

Y/n walked into the karaoke place and looked around hesitantly. “I've got this coupon for a private room?”

“Yep,” a worker said. “Right this way. We already have a song cued up for you.”

The screen blinked on as soon as the worker left the room and a large picture of Roy Harper with Lian on his hip showed up.

Y/n shook her head and muttered, “Harper.”

“What's up, L/n?” the recording asked happily. “Thank you so much for coming. So, I thought about it and I think I did you dirty. I never meant to cause you any trouble.”

“Yeah, well, you caused me a lot.” Y/n kicked at something at her feet.

Roy chuckled and said, “you're talking to a pre-recorded video, but it's cool. I know what you're saying. I hear you in my heart,” he said emphatically.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “What am I doing here?” she asked herself.

“I feel the same way,” the recorded Roy placed a hand to his heart. “You’re my best friend too.” He nodded thoughtfully and said, “look, I'm not coming back. We started a new life here in San Diego.” He jostled Lian who was giggling on his hip.

Y/n shook her head, grinning. “It’s stupid telling me where you are.”

“Come on, darling, I’m not in damn San Diego.” Roy laughed loudly. “Everybody knows that place sucks! But, I got you a little something as a going away gift. It's on the table next to you.”

Y/n opened the small velvet sack and gasped. “The rubies. Yes! I- I can’t believe you actually brought them back…”

“The rubies!” Roy cried from the screen.

Y/n let out a lighthearted laugh. “Yeah, you mistimed that one.”

“No, you're the best. Look, even though I am a scorpion, I will never drown your adorable little frog ass. So that's all I gotta say.” He glanced down at Lian who was smiling happily, staring at something in the distance. “I'm sure I'll see you again at some point,” Roy said, his eyes softening. “But for now, that coupon you got there, that's for a full hour in a private room. So…”

“Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia, let me go! BeeLZEbub has a devil put aside for meeee… for meeee! For meEEEEEEEEEE!” Lian sang along as Roy and Y/n banged their heads to the music.