#or rather it turned me to one XD

[nightrae13]

When one of the times Tink's curiosity led her and Terence to the Queen's questioning (again)

--

I was on the FLWBF au, and now, I'm pulled back to my (somewhat tragic depending on the timeline) OTP lol

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Doctor Doctor, Gimme The News | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Doctor!Reader

Summary: You receive a particularly difficult patient by the name of Bradshaw and you try your best to resist his charms.

CW: tall Bradley, Mavdad, it's still goofy XD

WC: 1800+

Part 1 | Masterlist

You’re sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand, waiting for your friend to finish flirting with the bartender so you can pay your tab, when you hear a familiar voice from behind.

“Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”

You glance over your shoulder wearily, instantly recognizing the tall aviator you met at the clinic earlier in the week. Bradshaw, was it? “Yeah, I get that a lot,” you say, giving him a polite smile before turning away.

Bradley doesn’t take the hint and plants himself on the barstool next to you. “So, are you gonna tell me your name? Or am I just gonna have to keep calling you Doc? Might get a bit awkward in bed.”

You snort into your drink as you’re taking a sip. Bradley grins, clearly pleased that he’s made you laugh. His slightly narrowed eyes sweep over your face with a quiet confidence, and you find yourself rather enjoying his attention. “Well, for the sake of making things less awkward,” you respond with a small smile, and then tell him your name.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, and then leans forward slightly to add, “again.”

You bite into your lip to suppress your widening grin.

“I was hoping I’d run into you, actually,” he comments, turning away to flag down the otherwise occupied bartender.

“Oh yeah?” you ask, feigning surprise.

“Yeah,” Bradley responds, tapping on his beer bottle and nodding at the bartender. He turns back to you and shrugs. “Saves me from having to fake an illness to come see you.”

You eye him somewhat reproachfully. “That would be extremely inappropriate.”

Bradley laughs. “If you think that’s inappropriate, I’m not gonna tell you what I planned on doing once I got there.”

Your eyes widen at the insinuation. “Lieutenant!” you exclaim.

Bradley continues chuckling. “Don’t worry, you’d have liked it.” He winks and then nods at the bartender who’s brought him his beer.

You stare at him because his boldness is mindboggling. “You shouldn’t be drinking with a head injury,” you point out.

He looks at you with amusement. “What head injury?”

“The one that brought you to my office?”

“You know what brought me to your office?” he says, and then points a thumb over his shoulder at a crowded table near the back of the bar. “Captain Maverick Mitchell. My self-appointed father figure,” he says in a tone that’s half-grudging, half-affectionate. “And possibly fate,” he adds as an afterthought.

You blink at him skeptically when he glances back at you. “Wow,” you say. “Pulling out the big guns.”

Bradley laughs again. “I have quite the arsenal.”

“Oh, I bet,” you say with a chuckle. “Aviator, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bradley responds proudly. Then he nods at the glass you bring to your lips. “Looks like you need a refill.”

You shake your head. “I was about to head out actually.”

Bradley purses his lips and narrows his eyes. “But then I arrived and changed your mind, right?”

You laugh slightly. “Not quite, Lieutenant,” you respond, rising from your stool and waving at the bartender. “I’ve got an early morning.”

Bradley gets out of his seat and pulls out his wallet. “Allow me, please,” he says.

“That’s not necessary,” you reply uncomfortably. You don’t like feeling indebted to anyone.

Bradley gives you a more serious look. “It’s the least I could do for nagging you this evening.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads of its own accord. You find Bradley reasonably attractive, sure. But it’s the way he carries himself that’s really got you hooked. You can hardly pull your gaze away. “Don’t forget about the part where you were the most obnoxious patient.”

Bradley lets out a hearty laugh. “That deserves a whole pint, Doc.”

You give him a smile. “Maybe another time,” you say politely. Despite his persistence, you can’t jeopardize your position at the clinic by consorting with a patient.

But before you turn to leave, Captain Mitchell approaches the bar and, upon perceiving you, he exclaims, “Oh! It’s the doctor!” He gestures in your direction while looking at Bradley.

Bradley gives him a flat look. “No shit,” he says.

Maverick glances between the two of you and then nods in realization. “You’ve spotted her already.”

You press your lips together to conceal a smile as Bradley brings a hand to his face like he’s thoroughly embarrassed by his ‘self-appointed father figure’. “Hello again,” you say to the captain, extending your hand.

“Good to see you, Doctor,” Maverick replies with a knowing grin, shaking your hand. “Almost didn’t recognized you without the stethoscope.”

“Oh god,” Bradley groans. “That's embarrassing.”

Maverick looks over at him with a confused expression while you giggle. “I was actually planning on scheduling him in for a follow-up,” Maverick says. “Noticed some concerning behaviors.”

You raise your eyebrows while Bradley watches Maverick’s profile incredulously.

“New behaviors?” you ask, glancing back at Bradley.

“No, no.” Maverick waves a hand nonchalantly as he settles onto a barstool. “Not new.”

Bradley shakes his head. “Why are you such a shit disturber?”

Maverick laughs and claps him on the back. “You buy the lady a drink yet?”

You drop your head slightly to hide your growing smile.

“I was trying to,” Bradley declares. “Before your ass showed up.”

You look up apologetically at the two men who are now watching you expectantly. “I’m not…thirsty.”

Maverick winces while Bradley’s shoulders visibly fall. “It’s his fault, isn’t it?” Bradley says, gesturing at Maverick with his thumb again.

“How is it my fault?” Maverick exclaims.

“It’s not his fault,” you attest, glancing at the captain.

“You should talk some more about my concerning behaviors,” Bradley retorts.

Maverick snorts. “I was kidding!” he says. “She knows!” he gestures at you. “You know, right?”

You glance between the two men patiently, wondering if they realize just how much they have in common. “Neither of you is driving tonight, right?” you ask, feeling, for some strange reason, a sense of responsibility for them.

Maverick turns to face you with a jolt. “I’m sober,” he asserts.

Bradley’s eyebrows converge in a dubious expression before he looks back at you. “He’s not driving,” he confirms.

“And you?”

“This is only my second beer!” he exclaims.

You meet his gaze with a smile because you don’t want him to feel attacked. “Okay,” you respond gently. “Drive safe.”

You start to walk away when you hear Bradley say, “Can I walk you to your car, Doc?”

You turn to face him again, about halfway to the door. “You know my name now,” you say, and he grins at you.

“I do,” he agrees. “That was for old times’ sake.”

You sigh. “Sure, Lieutenant. You can walk me to my car.”

…

Out in the parking lot, Bradley muses, “I’m thinking of maybe dislocating my shoulder next week. That’s an easy fix, right?”

You look over at him sharply. “That’s not funny.”

Bradley grins. “Not even a little?”

You roll your eyes at him and continue walking.

“Come on, Doc!” he calls after you. “My sense of humor is a good thing, remember?”

You smile to yourself and slow your pace to let him catch up. “There are other ways of getting my attention besides injuring yourself,” you remark as he falls back in step with you.

“Such as?” he asks.

You approach your car and unlock the door. “I can’t give away all the answers, can I?”

Bradley presses his lips together and grins. “Does that mean I have a shot?”

You lower your gaze coyly. “I don’t know, Lieutenant.”

“That’s not a ‘no’,” he points out.

You smile, glancing back up at him. “No,” you agree. “I suppose it’s not.”

Bradley’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he holds your gaze. “Can I take you to dinner?” he asks.

“No,” you reply almost immediately. Then, after a beat, you add, “Not yet.”

Bradley licks his lips, still grinning. “I’ll take it.”

You chuckle slightly, reaching for the door to your car.

“Can I stand here with you a little longer?” he asks, his voice a little more raspy when it isn’t bursting with confidence.

You pause, your hand still on the door, shocked at how desperately you want to oblige. How delightful it would be to just say yes on a whim. Without considering the repercussions or weighing the pros and cons. Without deliberation or apprehension. Impulsively. The word itself makes you flustered. “Okay,” you say, glancing up at him as he shifts a little closer.

Bradley smiles at you and leans his back to the car. He stands quietly for a few moments, just existing beside you, which you find both endearing and infuriating. You don’t have a lot of time on your hands and simply standing around is a colossal waste of it in your books. But something about the warm evening breeze paired with the smell of the ocean and Bradley’s crisp cologne makes the experience less harrowing, and maybe even possibly pleasant.

Still, you’re restless. “So, when you said you wanted to stand here, you actually meant stand here…” you comment.

Bradley glances down at you with an amused expression. “You got something else in mind, Doc?”

You half-snort, half-chuckle. “I just thought maybe you had something else to say. I didn’t realize we’d be standing in silence.”

Bradley grins at you. “It’s called being present.”

You study him with a slight grimace, genuinely trying to keep your cynicism at bay. Being present isn’t a kind of luxury you can often afford. Most days, you don’t even get a chance to eat sitting down. “What does that accomplish?” you ask.

Bradley, who’s still watching you with a smile, replies, “Does everything you do have a purpose?”

“Of course,” you say. “Why else would I do it?”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and puts his hands into his pockets. “That’s very practical of you.”

“It’s efficient,” you point out, trying to highlight the importance of productivity.

Bradley nods patiently. “Sounds like you need a night off, Doc.”

You laugh. “I just had a night off. But it had a purpose – my friend needed help wooing the bartender.”

Bradley chuckles. “Has the purpose ever been to just have a good time?”

You make a face and shrug. “That’s not really a priority of mine.”

“Wow, Doc, you’re a hoot,” Bradley replies facetiously.

“I warned you,” you remind him, opening your car door.

Bradley leans his arm over the frame of your car as you climb inside. “You know you leave me no choice, right?” he says, ducking his head slightly to peer into the vehicle.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“We’re going to have to rearrange your list of priorities,” he says.

You watch him for a moment, marveling at his persistence. His gaze drops briefly to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes again, and you wonder what it might feel like to be kissed by a guy like Bradley. It would probably be sexy and spontaneous. It would probably catch you off guard and possibly even offend you a little. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t mind being mildly offended if it meant kissing Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. “I’m not sure that’s a realistic goal,” you say. Your tone might be sarcastic, but the statement is fairly accurate.

Bradley grins. “I don’t mind a challenge.”

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[mangocatastrophe]

I think they’d be friends (Read Left –> Right)

This was meant to be a single panel comic… and then I came up with dialogue for the following conversation, BUT THERE WAS NO WAY I HELL I WAS GONNA POLISH AND COLOR THOSE PANELS TOO, the first one took me 3 hours.

I also would like to clarify: THIS IS NOT A ROMANTIC SHIP! It is a friend ship, that being said, don’t tag this as Zora x Noelle pls. Im thinking of calling them the Silveale siblings.

Anyways, reasons why I think they’d be friends

- Their dynamic would be funny as shit, they’re both tsunderes that love to tease. I think most of the time, Zora is the one teasing Noelle, but every once in a while she smacks him back harder, and he cant come up with a good retort XD

- Zora’s fairly isolated from the Bulls(as of rejoining them anyways), he hasnt been close to anyone since his fathers’ death, I think it’d be good for him to have a younger sister figure

- Their powers contrast nicely. One has very little mana but is very tactical and controlled when using it, and the other has a shit ton of mana but struggles with managing it

- Noelle’s family is ass. Nozel is kind of alright, but for most of her life they have been ASS. She’s already got a big sister in Vanessa, I think it’d be neat if she found a big brother in Zora

Annd some headcanons for their dynamic:

- Both of them would rather die than praise/show verbal affection (to everyone, not just each other) so sometimes they get each other small gifts or do favors

- Zora slowly gets more protective of Noelle overtime, and he’s a wingman whenever she’s around Asta

- Neither of them admit that they’re close, only a few of the Bulls notice that theyre close (Vanessa, Finral, Gordon, and Luck)

- When Zora finds out how shit her family was to Noelle, he sets traps in the Silva castle

Aaand yeah, thats all I got XD You can see me slowly getting better at drawing Zora throughout the comic, I dont like how his face turned out in the colored panel, he’s such a bitch to draw.

Shit Im glad Im not a Mihoyo fan, drawing the details on their outfits nearly killed me, AND THEY’RE FAIRLY TAME DETAILWISE

[igotanidea]

Dress rehearsal: Jason Todd x reader

Summary/request: @ladychibirae and @animegirlfromvietnam decided to not let me function normally requesting Jason being a witness to his fiance triyng on wedding dresses. And then those two just went on, making Jason all flustered, generous and horny at the same time. So - here's that XD

Spicy, but not explicit ;)

****

It was all so … white.

Like a freaking hospital.

And it made him flinch, involuntarily diving back into the stream of bad memories involving injuries, hurt, pain and –

“Look at all those dresses!”

Oh, right, back to reality.

No pain, no fear, just the incoming future.

With Y/N.

His wonderful, beautiful, perfect Y/N.

His future bride. His future wife.

But even the sweetness of her presence and the smile forming on her face couldn’t have bellied the overwhelming feeling of being – well - overwhelmed. He was just supposed to drop off Y/N, Kori and Babs and the boutique and excuse himself under any false pretense he could produce and the rattling and pipsqueak and three girls making a commotion worth six or so people only fueled that resolve.

And then Y/N picked some random dress, putting it to herself and giving him a look, with a silent question what was he thinking and suddenly his plans did a full 180.

Like hell he was going anywhere.

He was going to watch his fiancée change and dress up and give a little show of the whole parade of wedding dresses, enjoying it deeply, though not admitting openly.

“What’s with your face?” Y/N teased, reading right through him. “ thought you were supposed to meet Dick for your boys’ stuff?”

“Really? Was I? Can’t remember. I’d rather stay here. Make sure you don’t get locked up here after hours.”

“Well if that’s your only concern-“

“Y/N, come on, really?” Babs chimed in “He shouldn’t be here, it’s against the tradition for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

“Well the tradition doesn’t mention anything about seeing each other a few months before the wedding, does it?”

“It’s –“

“Don’t say it.” Jason cut her off, probably harsher than it was necessary. It was Barbara after all, but he was slowly losing patience. No one was going to keep him away from his girl. Not Barbara, not Kori, no silly beliefs and certainly not some outdated tradition.

“I think you should listen to Barbara.” Obviously Kori had to add her three cents. “Though I find your earthly customs amusing.”

“I’m staying.” Jason repeated sternly

“He’s staying.” Y/N echoed at the same time. “I want him here. Luck or not, he’s my fiancé. The rest can go to hell.”

Barbara and Kori looked at her with a little bit of surprise. This definitely was not the standard behavior of their friend, but clearly Jason brought some dominant instincts in her. If her changing was going to be kept in such pace, the second after the wedding she would turn into a full-blown Red hood’s girl. Maybe even running the streets, shooting and beating the shit out of people alongside him without a care in the world.

Jason though had a look of pure admiration on his face. Of course she wanted him here. Of course the rest could go to hell. If anyone had the right to see her picking a dress, it was him.

Conceitedly and ostentatiously he took a spot on the sofa, leaning back on the soft furniture like he owned the place and almost daring Kori and Babs to oppose his presence.

“Shall we begin then?” Y/N grabbed a dress from the hanger, twirling around in the cloud of lace and satin, disappearing in the changing room.

***

Three dresses later, he had to deal not only with Babs and Kori but also with five more people. Somehow (it might have had something to do with Kori sending group messages of photos of Y/N) the rest of the batkids decided to join the fun.

Therefore, instead of being left alone with the love of his life, Jason found himself squeezed on the couch, between Dick and Stephanie, who just happened to be around. Forced to listen to the sighs of delight and exclamations of Cass and nodding of approval of Tim.

Fucking approval!

That freaking bunch though they could just comment on how his Y/N looked. That they were allowed to watch her spin and twirl and watch herself in the mirror, tilting head in that way, see her smile when she liked something or frown when she did not.

Bastards.

He was the only one allowed here and was hanging on the edge of the seat to just tell them all to piss off and throw them on the street.

He did not.

Mostly because every time she walked out, clad in another white outfit all the mean, harsh words intended at his sibling were stuck in the back of his throat and he was turning into a mewling-inside-little-cat-who-just-wanted-to-be-around-its-owner.

Y/N.

Standing in the middle of the boutique clad in the simple yet elegant wedding dress, accentuating all her curves and making her look like a princess. Literally. All she was missing was some sort of crown on her head, but Jason was going to make sure she would wear one during their entire life together. For she was going to be not only a princess, but his queen.

And he was speechless.

So quiet and unable to say any teasing comment or snarky remark it was slowly becoming suspicious.

“Um… Jace?” her voice reached his ears as if through a fog.

“Huh?” he was immediately thrown out from his reverie. “That’s my name, yeah.”

Everyone looked at him like he just grew a third arm (though in this family this probably wouldn’t be that shocking after all.)

“Are you okay?’ Dick asked with a smirk

“I’m fine!”

“You are quiet.” Stephanie slurped on her slushie, loudly and annoyingly.

“What a bright observation” he mocked.

“Aaaaaand he’s back.”

“Piss off!”

“Y/N asked you a question!”

“I know! I heard!”

“She had to call your names three times before you reacted!”

“Maybe I just like her saying my name!”

“You are blushing!”

“I am not blushing!”

“Enough!”

Y/N finally stepped in, deciding to cut off this family bantering and save Jason, thrown at the mercy of the wolves of his siblings. Of course they used the very rare moment of his sensitivity showing to tease him mercilessly and her poor fiancé did not deserve it.

“Oh, saved by the bell.” Damian smirked “if she will have to step up for you during your whole marriage then- OUCH!”

“I said enough. That includes you, Damian.” Perfectly aimed, though not that strong slap on the head made the youngest of the Wayne shut up. “Everyone out.”

“What?!”

“Y/n!”

“Come on, don’t be like that! You still got some dresses to try on!”

“I said: out. All of you. Now.”

With whines and groans of disappointment everyone moved to the exit.

Everyone, including Jason.

Y/N cleared her throat.

He turned around, looking at her questioningly.

“Not you.”

“No?”

“No. Of course not, you idiot. In case you missed something, you are the only person I wanted here from the start.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t be shy with me now. Better tell me how you like this dress.”  She turned towards the mirror, looking at her reflection and playing with the layers of lace on the outfit.

“I think it would look better if-“

“Don’t finish that sentence!”

“You asked for my opinion!”

“Exactly! Opinion! Not your dirty thoughts and sinful desires.”

“Those are very strong words you are using here, sunshine…” he muttered, stepping behind her, wrapping arms on her waist and kissing the back of her neck “but you are not wrong…” one hand slipped to the zipper of her dress.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not going to buy it either way…”

“What? Why? You look so pretty in it!”

“Got your answer.” She teased, revealing how she played him.

“ha-ha! Very funny princess. Why don’t you want to buy it?” his grip on her hips tightened a little. “Look at us, look how we fit…” his chin rested on her shoulder as they watched themselves in the reflection.

“We do…” her voice was a soft whisper of affection and amusement, eyes flicked with love and hope for the future. “We do…” she snuggled a little further in his embrace, hoping for the love of god that he would not take it as an invitation and get any ideas.”

“Don’t you like the dress?” he asked softly, rubbing her sides affectionately.

“I do. But it’s expensive—”

“Wait. What? That’s your reasoning of let’s-not-buy-it? Really? Here.” He reached into his pocket, handing her his credit card. “Take this one. And that ivory one, I liked how it brought out your eyes. And you can also take something for the wedding reception. And preferably a little something for the wedding night?” he winked.

“I believe we’re in the wrong shop for the last one-“

“Then we’ll go to the right shop.”

“But Jason-“

“Don’t Jason me. Money is not the problem. In fact – keep my card.”

“What?”

“Shut up and take my money.”

“Jason!”

“Hm?”

“You’re impossible.”

“Better get used to it, sunshine. I intend to keep you amused for the rest of our lives.”

“That would indicate you are not planning to leave me at the altar.”

“Leave you? Never. No promises on letting you walk the aisle though. Cause I might just snatch you away from everyone and make sure that pretty dress you are buying ends up on the floor before even exchanging out vows…”

“I’m starting to regret casting your family out. At least you were behaving with them around.”

“But still – you like when I misbehave…”

His hands sneaked under the dress, traveling up her leg, spinning her around so she was now facing him, fingers inching higher and higher on the inside of her thigh-

“Jason…”

“hmmmm…”

“Are you really going to-?”

“I would love nothing more.” He whispered in her ear, getting bolder by a second. Having her in her wedding dress, then and there was doing so many things to him.

“Just so you know, I only got one dress like that! Limited edition! If you ruin it now, there’s no chance for you to wear the same on the wedding day!”

The saleswoman’s voice cut right into their ragged breaths and quickened heartbeats making them jump away from each other immediately.

“Wanna buy this and go home?” he smirked.

‘For what? Dress rehearsal?”

“Mh! You make me fall in love with you all over again.” His smirk grew wider.

It took them literally three minutes to buy the dress and rush home. And for the purposes of that night, there was no need for any clothes shopping.

[sapphiccaa]

got you running in circles

arthurtv x reader

cw: suggestive, fluff, flirting, drinking, friends to lovers, submissive arthur xD

an: hey guys!! This is my first fic uploaded directly to Tumblr !!! im super excited to release this because I’m quite proud of it :D

2.1k words

masterlist ★ ao3 link

You peered through the windows of the bar, noticing how dark it had gotten since you arrived. It was mid-summer so the sun usually set quite late anyways. Your first drink was settling into your body nicely, feeling light and airy. The beating music in the room swayed your weight from foot to foot. Arthur, George, and Isaac had all snagged stools at the bar, leaving you to stand. Arthur had insisted you take his stool but you insisted that you enjoyed standing.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit?” Arthur asked. “I really don’t mind.” You hated this, you really didn’t want to inconvenience anyone.

A voice behind you spoke, “Just sit on the poor man’s lap.” It was Arthur Hill, who had just returned from the toilet. 

George and Isaac both chimed in, laughing casually and agreeing with Hill. Your eyes met Arthur’s who wasn’t laughing, but rather smiling awkwardly. Oh… he was so cute like this. This will be fun.

“You know what? You’re right,” you said, “Arthur?” Raising a suggestive eyebrow, asking for his permission. 

He puffed out a breath of air and nodded, “I guess yeah I don’t mind.” He moved the hand that was resting on his thigh to the wooden bar top, the other by his side holding a pint. You shuffled to sit across his legs, your back resting against the bar. You immediately recognized the warm stiffness of his thighs under yours, skirt riding up just enough that your bare skin was touching his jeans. 

You turned your head to Arthur, as if to make the moment slightly more intimate, only for him. “Thank you,” you said under your breath. His sweet smile shone back at you, and you could see his adam's apple bob as he swallowed. Was he nervous? God, you hoped so. 

You turned your attention back to the other guys who were chatting about Hill’s bathroom trip.

“Why didn’t you lock the stall though?” George asked.

“I thought I fucking did, mate!” Hill fought back, “the door was closed. I don’t see why she opened the door.” He looked utterly perplexed, his words slurring accordingly.

“Hold up,” you broke in, “it was a woman? In the men’s toilets?” 

“That’s the kind of thing I would do,” Arthur said, his gentle chuckles pressing against you. 

Everything was so funny to you now, “What the hell are you talking about, Arthur?”

“Have I not told you this?” 

“No!” you nearly yelled. “Wait, let the other Arthur finish his story first. And then you,” emphasizing this by pressing a finger against his chest, “will tell me everything about this.” You turned back to Hill expectantly. He continued to tell his account, but Arthur shifting around under you was pretty distracting. 

Arthur’s generally giddy drunken exterior was replaced by a flushed quiet appearance. Your attention migrated to the cup in his hand, nearly empty. “Want another?” you whispered, leaning close to his ear. Before he could respond, you leaned back to grab the attention of the bartender. You ordered two stella’s, Arthur waiting patiently under your thighs. “Returning the favor,” you said, handing him his pint, “for the seat.” 

He chuckled, obviously remembering how silly he felt with a pretty girl on his lap. “It’s not a problem, really.”

The night continued on, drinks swung down your throat in succession, Arthur following easily along. At one point, you couldn’t place exactly why it had happened, but one of his palms had found its way around your waist. He must’ve not hated how it felt, keeping his grip clamped to you. His nervous semblance was shedding to a more red-faced giggling Arthur. The hand migrated from a safe hold on your waist to a slippery slope against your hip, near the waistband of your skirt. With every opportunity you were given, you leaned close to his ear and whispered jokes and comments. You wanted these to be just for him, creating a secret ecosystem between the two of you. 

Possibly it was the booze, but there were increasingly more times when Arthur would trip over his words, commonly after you said something that could be interpreted as suggestive. He would keel over a bit, laughing hard and gripping you a bit tighter. Of course it was to make sure you didn’t fall off his lap, but you’ve got to admit, it felt nice to have him hold you like this. 

At one point a woman in a low cut red top approached, offering to buy you a drink. She was quite attractive, you flirted a bit, playing the game of table tennis with your words. There was a moment where she alluded at a threesome with “the cute boy” sitting under you. His breath caught in his throat. You took that opportunity to wrap an arm behind his back, rubbing small circles into his muscles. You swore something shifted below you in that moment, an unmistakable stiffness under my thighs. 

The woman ended up getting whisked away by her friends—hopefully you’d see her again. Even with her gone, the nervous energy radiated hotly off Arthur. He wasn’t laughing at all your jokes anymore, it was probably reaching the point of the night for him where he clocked out mentally. But it felt too early for him. 

You leaned close to his ear once again, “you alright?”. You swear he shivered, so you ran circles over his back again. His eyes met yours and he adjusted his posture, now you knew what was up. “Do you want me off?”

“No.”

You glanced at the phone in his hand and back to his face, “your phone isn’t in your pocket.” You couldn’t contain your smile.

He stuttered his words, “No I… that’s not…Sorry.” 

God he is cute when he’s embarrassed. You wanted to take him home. “I want to take you home with me.” You don’t know why you said that. It was true, but you had no right being that upfront and desperate. 

Somehow you didn’t royally fuck everything up. “Yeah.” Arthur is a no-bullshit kind of guy, he’ll tell you how he’s feeling, and thank god for that. “Now?”

“Why not,” you squeezed his shoulder and then slipped off his lap. After hugging George goodbye, you peered back to see Arthur sitting uncomfortably, unabashedly squirming in the spot, waiting for you. There are so many awful things you could do to him tonight. 

You walked side by side on the pavement, your hands centimeters away from touching as you got closer to the tube station. The train was basically empty when you got on, the late hour attributing to that. You sat close together, closer than was probably necessary, but you didn’t mind the warmth that radiated onto your body. He leaned slightly, his deep breaths felt against your skin. You restrained yourself from fully turning to admire his pretty face. You wanted to make him work for this. 

Not too soon after, you were back outdoors and a two minutes walk to your flat. He started talking about bats, specifically about how he thinks they’re increasing in population in the city of Greater London. 

“I know someone who found a bunch of baby bats huddled in the corner of his shed. I know I’d be freaked out if I found those things living in my home.”

“They’re quite cute though, aren't they?” you said. “They have such big eyes when you look at them up close, really. Those fruit bats.” They vaguely remind you of Arthur when he gets quiet.

His voice pitched up a smidge, “That’s the problem! They are incredibly cute and then they spread their arms and it looks like a monster from hell coming to take you down.” He performed an exaggerated shiver, “Crikey I hate thinking of this, especially in the dark.”

He looked so vulnerable, you wanted to hold him like a small puppy. You gently slipped your hand to touch his inner wrist. It waited a moment and then slid lower, your palms pressing together and fingers intertwining. You could get used to the feeling of his uncalloused hand, larger than your own, holding you sweetly. 

You eventually reached the destination and obviously Arthur fumbled with the front door, pulling instead of pushing. Bless him, he was so nervous. You wanted to calm him down, so you brushed a hand over his shoulder, letting it stretch along his back to accompany him as you walked up the narrow stairwell. 

You could barely react when out of the corner of your eye, Arthur fell, in what seemed like slow motion, on the last stair before your flat. He landed on both knees, hair fluffed up a bit, and wincing at the impact. He looked up at you, on his fucking knees, catching his breath with his mouth hanging slightly open. 

You couldn’t help myself, “You look quite cute. Like this,” you finger reaching to tap below his chin, pushing up. His jaw closed with the motion and then opened back again, borderline drooling. “You’re going to be fun for me tonight, won’t you?”

Arthur gulped, “I don’t know why this is doing so much to me.”  Never breaking eye contact, you slipped your hand higher to cup his cheek, so so sweet like this. 

“Get up.”

He stood up no problem, quick on his feet. Was he going to keep being this good once you got into your flat? You entered, Arthur shuffling his shoes off and waiting for your next instruction as you locked the door. 

“So what do you wanna do,” he said in a single breath.

“Want to see my bedroom?” you asked like a little kid. He nodded with a drunken smile, so you grabbed his hand and led him until you were face to face in your locked lamp-lit room. 

The light glowed on the curves of his features, highlighting his cheeks and brow bone. You brushed a hand over the sunny light, trying to push more warmth into his skin. He leaned against the palm, allowing himself to use it as a crutch for his head. Two fingers rubbed small circles into his temple, you kept eye contact like this, no words had to be spoken to appreciate this moment. The corners of his mouth curled into a tight smile, teeth exposing from his excitement. Naturally, he stuck his tongue out to poke your hand with it. He probably expected you to react like he always did when Chris did the same to him. Instead, you paid no attention to it, continuing to brush paths on the side of his head. He chuckled, scrunching his nose which you couldn’t help but find irresistibly cute. Guess he wasn’t done being a little shit, because he stuck his tongue out again, this time running it up your exposed palm in a drawn-out motion, covering as much surface area as possible. When his dark pupils locked into your eyes, you could tell this wasn’t a joke anymore. Sweeping your hand down, two fingers touched his plush bottom lip. With barely any motivation, his jaw fell enough to let you intrude. Skimming your fingers over the tip of his tongue, he allowed more of himself to open up. You didn’t pry too much, the pads of your fingers laying just past the line of his teeth. 

“You’re good,” you said. He didn’t say anything but his face visibly blushed, blinking hard at you. “Do you want to sit on my bed?” He nodded eagerly. “No outside clothes,” you curled fingers under the collar of his soft beige shirt, “you were in the bar with these.” 

Arthur glanced down at the hand touching him fairly innocently, shocked at the insinuation. “Makes sense, yeah,” he rushed out, reaching to push his shorts off. You turned away and went to find your pajamas. It’d be quite nice to get him to properly unwrap you. As you faced away from him, you slipped your skirt and top off, spending extra time unclasping your bra and dropping it on the floor. You peered slightly to the left, trying to catch if he was watching in your periphery. He was standing awkwardly in his black boxers, hands clasped in front of him, possibly trying to hide something. 

You finished dressing and brought yourself back to him, one hand on either of his upper arms.

“I can keep these on, yeah?” He giggled nervously. 

“Of course.” You wanted to call him something cute but you weren’t so sure what it would be yet. You rubbed both hands down the expanse of his arms, it’s often easy to forget how built he was under all of his clothes. He glanced down shyly, getting embarrassed from the attention. You leaned close to his ear, “You’re beautiful.” His forehead fell forward and leaned on your shoulder, seeking support. “Is this too much?” you whispered.

“No,” he said simply.

an: fade to black!! So sorry I’ve never written x reader smut before and I’m scared bahhhhh!! anywho i hope u enjoyed and im always open for suggestions/requests so don't be shy ;) any shares are appreciated!!

[lynnlovesthestars]

Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD

first of all sorry for being so late, but my small brain has to process things multiple times to make sense, so i wrote this like... 5 times? So it takes me a while, but i hope that waiting was worth it.

Also i saw you sent a second ask to see if i recieved this one, so ill put dammon and rolan there cause this is starting to get a bit long:3<3 thank you so much for your patience!:3

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird

Headcanon: BG3 men with kind and patient s/o. (pt. 1)

Zevlor:

Zevlor is emotionally a wreck already, he considers kindness a virtue and it definitely makes him swoon when he notices you put extra care in making sure he's treated with kindness. At the end of the day, he basically got bullied on all fronts when all he really wants is to prove himself worthy of the title he carried for so long.

Zevlor has a short temper too, and he appreciates so much your effort and patience in dealing with his outbursts, whether they are of rage- not towards you of course- or of sadness, you offer always a shoulder for him and he cherishes it so much.

He is lowkey jealous when he notices that your kindness is not mostly exclusive to him, he has learned that people can abuse one's patience and care, and 1. he doesn't want you to get hurt, 2. he wishes your kindness was maybe reserved to him. Call him selfish, but after being deprived of it for so long, he is hesitant to let go of it.

Astarion:

Initially he would be very wary, in his experience being nice always lead to him getting hurt, so why would he trust someone who's default reply is kindness? At the end of the day the last time someone was '''''kind''''' to him, he was turned in a vampire spawn, so he takes it extra slow, he has just regained control over himself, he won't blindly accept kindness. He's lowkey afraid you are just part of a bigger scheme that will bite him in the ass and leave him shackled and caged again.

Once he gets accustomed to your kindness and finally accepts it, he revels in the kindness you offer and your patience, especially the smallest gestures like opening a door for him. He will literally melt for it, he's already smitten, your kindness leaves him like mush in your hands.

Nevetheless every good side, comes with a negative one. He is dead afraid your kindness will bring you to get hurt. He often reminds you to be weary and keep all your kindness for people you trust (HIM), rather than going around and helping every lost soul that asks for help. He will fight you on this a few times- especially if you do get hurt or it is obvious you are about to- he will not bite his tongue and keep it for himself, and that's one of the moments when he's glad you are patient.

You understand where it comes from and you try your best to find a solution that would make both happy. Your patience of course doesn't stop there, he knows he's an handful: he carries an heavy trauma baggage and he has a feisty personality, yet you always show him you don't mind, that you are there for him and that he can take all the time of the universe to sort his problems out.

Wyll:

Wyll would find it so endearing, how you are ready to go to someone's aid, you stop on your tracks to support someone in need, and he would love seeing you being kind to everyone. It's probably one of the reasons why he falls in love with you. Unlike Astarion he encourages you to be kind to everyone, cause he considers it a virtue, he incourages you to be the best version of yourself, and he reminds you that if you do get hurt, he will be there to pick up the pieces.

As far as patience goes, he's grateful to the moon and back, he knows he is an handful, especially if he doesn't break his pact with Mizora and has to leave more times than ever. He makes sure once he's back though that he makes up for lost time, whether it is with gifts or by taking care of you.

Haarlep:

Harleep is so used to Raphael that honestly he's taken aback at first, living in the hells means that kindness is hard to come by and around Raphael? It's either a trick or a miracle, so he brushes it off, not repelled like Astarion would, but definitely not eager like Wyll either.. he would be probably the one that takes it as it is, just.. that. But when he gets used to it? He becomes unsufferable. So unsufferable that he goes around demanding Raphael to be treated with kindness and patience! He purrs whenever you are nice even the smallest, thanking you and praising you like a goddess. He even tries to be nice himself- to you only- and despite it has to be and effort, since he has never been exposed to much kindness, he does become a little more mindful, even asking before taking your form or just with small acts of services.

One time Rapahel makes sure to send a message to you through him. "Tav, Raphael asked you stop being nice to me, cause if i demand it from him as well, he's going to turn me into fertilizer", message delivered with a pout that begs exactly the opposite.

Harleep is another that is deeply afraid of your kindness. Let's be real, you can defend yourself as much as you want, but people tend to use people and your kindness is one of those characteristics evil people would pry on- he knows well since its literally part of what he does, and a facet of what Raphael does as well. He probably scolds you a lot for this reason, he does it in a sweet way- don't get me wrong- he sugarcoats the shit out of it, but he will let you know when you are about to get in peril or you are too careless with your kindness.

Gale:

Gale is touched by your kindness, already from the first days after meeting him.

You had helped him out of his blotched portal, you fed him artifacts, you didn't question his secrets or push him to reveal anything, and he doesn't give that for granted. Once he's closer to you, and he learns that you are unconditionally kind to everyone, he's scared.

He starts warning you to be a little less nice, to use your judgement before you blindly trust a stranger, but he doesn't push it past a warning. As much as he wants to protect you, he doesn't want to take away your chance to grow from your errors.

In matter of your patience he's so grateful, he spends days thanking you when he's still afflicted with the orb condition, he cooks as a form of apology or thanks depending what he did, he gets baths started for you, he's treating you as a queen/ king. He alread would do it, but with you? He's even more protective, he almost feels like he has to match your kindness and patience with as much attentions he can muster.

Halsin:

Halsin is a fair man you think he wishes everyone was kind, but he actually wants you to be fair, he wants you to be mindful of who you give kindness to, he wants you to be a reasonable judge rather than unconditionally nice cause it is the way of the nature as well. Nature is not only nurturing and lush, it's also the poisonous vipers and herbs.

Does he appreciate when you are kind? Absolutely, he thinks it's the best gift Silvanus has ever bestowed him, but it doesn't take away the fact that he wants you to be treated kindly as well, so the moment someone crosses the line and starts abusing your kindness or becomes rude, he's definitely stepping in to s h a m e the other person. "You are lucky you have met Tav, cause they are kind, but nature wouldn't be so understanding and patient" He says it with a rage you rarely see in his eyes.

He will do his best to remind you to surely practice kindness but also to be mindful who you help and who you are kind to, cause there's always rotten that can harm you, and lowkey if you get hurt he will invite you to take back what you gave.

Despite this Halsin considers kindness the bare minimum a person should be, and what stops him from encouraging you to be kinder, its just the knowledge that you might get hurt.

[cta-nagito]

A conversation with a friend made me think that many (not all, I'm not saying that everyone does this) are trying to portray Ivan as some kind of obsessed stalker-maniac who will do anything to possess Till.

And I'm not trying to close my eyes to Ivan's dark side, he is prone to doing dubious things (all of them, by the way. Conditions in which they grew up is a separate topic for discussion). Buuuut…

Ivan fell in love with Till for his freedom (well, first of all, for the fact that he communicated with him xD, but for that as well). Don't you think it's strange if Ivan tried to suppress what Till always symbolized for Ivan himself?

You who shines, I stand next to you

We know from Vivinos that Ivan considered himself unworthy of love and gave up the fight for happiness. From the lines of Nowhere we can guess the source of this belief: faced with the extremely harsh life in the slums, Ivan's defense mechanism was to deny the possibility of any of his dreams for something good, because it was easier to forget about it when it once again turned out to be in vain. Sending to Anakt, being different from his peers, the incident with the meteorites - all this only reinforced Ivan's complex.

Although on the other hand, apparently he was really worried that Till, being a rather willful stubborn person, would provoke the Segeins and tried to reason with him to be more reasonable, but Till, of course, didn't give a shit about it. But there is a big difference between worrying about Till killing himself and wanting to tie him to a radiator.

Ivan really did a lot of strange things and invaded Till's personal space again and again. Officially, his desire was to take up as much space in Till's head as possible, he wanted Till to remember him. And Ivan did it as best he could, convinced that it was the only way. At the same time, I think that by the time he graduated from Anakt, Ivan already guessed that he had a very real chance to get closer to Till (and he did, but never realized it…).

I see Ivan as a rather unhappy, depressed and detached person, who at the same time treats his sufferings quite simply, considering it "superficial" and accepting everything as it is, considering this course of things to be right. In general, I think Ivan could be greedy, possessive and demanding, but the problem is that too much has to happen for him to show himself as such.

In the "normal" conditions of their existence, Ivan is too convinced that possessing Till is a priori impossible for him, since no one will ever love him, especially Till. Therefore, he most likely did not even allow fantasies about it, in his world it simply does not exist. He was not even (canonically confirmed) jealous of Till for Mizi. It was natural for him, no matter who Till would love, because in Ivan's world there is no chance that he himself will be loved for who he is.

Ivan did many questionable things, but he never crossed the line with Till. If he had no boundaries, he could have forced Till to kiss him long before he graduated from Anakt. But Ivan did not do that.

That is another reason why his kisses in Round 6 are so desperate. It was the first and last time he allowed himself to do such a thing. Only because he knew that this was the end.

[lilolilyr]

~ Lilo's 2024 Star Wars recs ~ (another Ao3 year in review)

This is specifically the star wars edition of my reader year in review, the rest & more info can be found here!

Descriptions/summaries by me, click the links for the ones from the authors.

The Good Sith by sonnyrain - Obi-Wan Kenobi and all of the Vod'e time travel and end up on a Sith planet. Obi-Wan, now 'Aranar', turns to the dark side, swearing to protect his men no matter the cost. Over a million words, lots of plot and character developments, fix-everything, still ongoing as of mid last year but you can read the first part(s) on their own.

I love this fic a ridiculous amount, I read several parts at least twice, and I'm thinking about it constantly. Like, when I think up my plotless little fluff piece fix everything bedtime stories I think up to fall asleep (and sometimes when something's good have to forego sleep to write down immediately because I know I won't remember fuckall come morning), I think of the versions of the characters from that 'verse just as often as I think of canon star wars characters or ones from any other fics. It fits into my headcanon 'verse really well because I always work with multiverse settings, and I love the kid characters especially little Sithling Aurek and his twin Soul.

Knives and Spices by argentee, mikaiyawa and others: A whole group of humans from earth is kidnapped into the Star Wars world, and separate fics follow separate characters. One becomes Mandalorian, one a pop star, yet another befriends some pirates and travels to lands we've never seen in canon. 280k, ratings and warnings vary, series still ongoing, parts can be read separately

I love and adore all kinds of self insert stories but this one is just extra levels of amazing - it's basically humans are space orcs meets Star Wars, and humans are all a bit force sensitive - the ending of the series summary describes it perfectly: "how much trouble can a few humans cause? All of it. All the trouble." and I love it all to bits!

Like a Tree by the River by @bairnsidhe - at Galidraan, Komari has a vision of the canon future and decides that she'd rather leave the Jedi behind than be a part of that massacre. Somehow, this ends with her and Dooku being adopted by mandalorians, and her in turn kind of adopting teenaged Obi-Wan at Melida/Daan? 20k T

Idk, this isn't even such a long one and I mean all of BairnSidhe's works I've read are great but somehow specifically this one with Dooku being the 'a bit old' ad and Komari therefore the bu'ad of a random coruscanti Mandalorian just stuck with me and I sometimes randomly think of Dooku being all confused and have to smile xD the plot&writing is also really good!

How a Romance Novel Saved the Galaxy by @arianaderalte: The mandos get their hands on a novel that describes a romance between mandalorians and jedi, and just how perfect jedi really are as partners for mandalorians... This changes things when both groups interact irl. 200k, rated T, Violence

This series has Everything. Jedi, Mandalorians, action, relationships, all kinds of queerness, and excerpts from a romance novel about the ancient Sith wars. Honestly, this fic just couldn't be better! I binge-read through it in one go even though I should have done a million other things at the time and I didn't regret it one bit xD

All the Amavikka stories: the slaves on Tatooine have a separate secret culture with language, myths and names, and Anakin, coming from this culture, reacts to Palpatine being his newest slave master

I think this idea of Tatooine slave culture and of Anakin's characterization is so interesting and I love reading it, from long Double Agent Vader by @fialleril, which I think is the original fic creating the Ekkreth lore, over the ongoing series Biting His Own Tale by @adragonsfriend, to the short story I can't find anymore about depur erecting a tower, a song-fic to Babylon by Dirt Poor Robin and the reason for my obsession with that band - please, if anyone has a link, send it my way! - and all other fics, I love this trope so much!

I think Ekkreth Skywalker was one of the first trope rabbit holes I stumbled into when I got really into Star Wars longfics in the middle of 2024, and I'm always excited to see references to it in fics mainly about other characters as well, like Breaking Chains by @jehanneargentee, and I went back to (re)reading fics about the trope on purpose several times as well :)

The last fic leads neatly into the next trope I really loved this year, Time Travel stories, more specifically Obi-Wan Kenobi time travelling and meeting mandalorians :D

I don't really have more specific stories for this one, I read so so so many of them that they just blur together in my mind. I marked a couple with the Ao3 rec function so I assume I liked those especially much, but going through them now I still don't really remember much, but I do recognize a couple fic author names as authors I read many good fics from, Ariel_Sojourner AppoApples @batshieroglyphics @roosjem LeeTheHobbit @triscribe cjwritesfanficnow @laurabwrites y'all's are awesome! Everyone, go check out all their fics!

I do also read and enjoy stories where people other than Obi-Wan travel through time, one that really stuck with me is In Good Time by morwen_of_gondor, about the Mandalorian trainers Kal Skirata and Walon Vau time travelling back to their time on Kamino.

All the fluffy h/c, fix-it, everyone lives, no order 66 Clone Wars fics! Pro-jedi, pro-clones, anti-sith (which sometimes includes Anakin, sometimes not), usually focusing on the 212th.

I never watched the series and it's been ages since I watched Attack of the Clones, but somehow, probably on the time travel -> Obi-Wan fics -> General Kenobi pipeline, I ended up reading a loooot of clone wars (fix it) fic, specifically lots and lots of Codywan!

You know that lovely feeling of getting into a new fandom without having any preconceived notions or otps or anything, so you can read All The Fic without any ships or bashing squicking you out? Yeah, that was me in Star Wars several months ago, cursed be the Codywan that got to me xD I can barely read time travel fics anymore without mourning the existence of the Vod'e because changing the past usually means they won't be created (unless they're the ones time travelling of course. Love those fics) and where I used to read just about anyone x Obi-Wan (and also anyone x anybody else lmao), I'm not pretty exclusively into Codywan... That being said, there's a reason for that, and that's the amount of amazing fics for that ship that I came across!

Again, I don't have specific fics that I remember because I just read so many one after the other... I guess I'll have to re-read them all. Which is great actually because me not remembering them much means I can reread them basically for the first time! I did mark some as rec but looking through them now I think they're not mainly recced for the codywan... My shippy bookmark tag might give a better overview.

Another ship I got into was clone troopers Waxer x Boil, I like the thought of the Vod'e being a society of to outsiders identical looking but to each other separate people who only see their immediate batchmates as siblings (which would also psychologically make a lot more sense), and these two are just super cute.

One of the first Waxer/Boil fics I read is also Codywan and it's one of these clones&Obi-Wan time travel fics I like so much :D The 212th Attack Battalion's Guide to Saving the Galaxy by Accident by @antigrav-vector and @quarra, it also has some Dooku/Sifo-Dyas which is another ship I really like.

Another one I still want to continue reading is RCAU: Open Skies mainly by @cacodaemonia, what I've seen of it so far is great and the story is So Long (almost 900k, a honestly daunting wordcount and probably what made me procrastinate continuing it, but also Awesome because So Much Fic), it's cute and shippy and no order 66 but also has plot and interesting characters and ocs and I just love it <3

Also similar but less ship centric, I absolutely love all the fics where Fox gets to kill Palpatine. Just, best trope ever. The Corrie Guard deserves a little Sith Murder. As a treat.

Jaster Mereel and his haat'ade (True Mandalorians), there are a bunch of really good ones where they rescue Obi-Wan and the Young from Melidaan, but also in general all the Jaster fics are great!

While I'm very anti guns irl I just love the fictional Mandalorian culture xD with their cool armor and their codex and the language (per my last count I know 90 words of Mando'a just from fic reading osmosis, send me an ask if you want a list lmao), the vibrant culture created by it being a creed, not one species... and Jaster is just my favorite Mando'ad ever, maybe because he doesn't have much canon attached so fanon just went wild? xD there are also a bunch of jedi shippy fics with him and Dooku sometimes in ot3 with Sifo-Dyas, or him and Jon Antilles like the wonderful 100k wip trade your heart for bones to know by @blackkatmagic, and I think there was one with time travelling adult Obi-Wan as well - edit: yes several, by @roosjem @cjwritesfanficnow @batshieroglyphics <3

Skywalker Family Values by Ariel_Sojourner: Sith-son Luke and senator daughter Leia end up in the same summer camp, it ends in a destruction of the speciist camp, a rebellious theatre performance and the reintroduction of their parents... Aka the parent trap/ Doppelte Lottchen AU that is still somehow perfectly in tune with the Star Wars world! 55k, T for violence.

Can't forget the fic that actually got me into Star Wars! At least I'm pretty sure this is the one? I think there was a tumblr post talking about crackfic ideas for a parent trap AU, and I went looking and found this one, which is actually 100% serious and such a good read. I actually made my mom read it as well xD Das Doppelte Lottchen (German original parent trap book from 1949) was one of our favs for her to read to me when I was a kid, and my mom is always looking for new reading material and as I'm mainly reading fanfic, I'm always happy to find fic she'll also like.

And, because I turn everything into a tag meme, maybe some of you also want to show your appreciation for the writers who got us through the last year - everyone who sees this, feel free to make your own post (if it's just Star wars fic I guess you can reblog-add to this one, but otherwise seriously make your own post)! and remember to leave your authors some comments especially if they can't be @-ed on tumblr :) tagging all the authors already tagged above and everyone else who sees this!

here's my 2024 rec list for other fandoms

more of my fic recs • my writing • my Star Wars • Star Wars fic recs

[lawko-sama]

Walls and Whispers

Summary: Basically, it's a description of slowly getting together with Daryl.

Warnings: Blood, injuries, Merle is an asshole (XD)

Era: Prison

Word count: 2.7k

Something from me: Hello, hello. I apologize in advance for any mistakes with the appearance, layout of the post (first post on the platform). I will gladly accept any feedback. This beginning is part of the whole story I have in my head, I think there will be further parts. English is not my first language, but I think I write in it quite okay. And what.. I wish you a pleasant reading <3

It was a beautiful summer day. Or at least, it looked like one. But the moment you stepped beyond the cold prison walls, the scorching, suffocating heat hit you like a truck. The sun blazed mercilessly at its highest point in the sky, and the air had thickened, shimmering under the hellish temperature.

You stood by the entrance gate, watching as the approaching vehicle kicked up dust along the road. Since you had some free time, you figured you'd help unload whatever they had brought back. You opened the gate for them, wrestling with the locks and chains. Luckily, it didn't take you too long.

The old van rolled through the wire gate, and you quickly shut it behind them. The first person to jump out was Rick. The second the vehicle came to a stop, he was already hauling supplies out. Right behind him was Merle, a wide, shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he laughed at something—probably his own joke. Daryl was the last to get out, barely paying attention to anyone as he made his way straight to the front of the vehicle. He lifted the hood, immediately getting to work as thick, gray smoke billowed from the engine.

"Where is the Korean starboy? I have his order!" Merle yelled toward Hershel, who was making his way over.

Beth peeked out from behind her father, automatically glancing up at the watchtower. Merle caught on quickly, following her gaze with an amused smirk.

"Starboy!" he hollered, even louder this time. "Ya comin'?!"

Rick shook his head in mild exasperation but said nothing. A moment later, Glenn leaned out from the doorway of the guard tower.

"What?!"

He was still fastening his belt, his bare chest saying more than enough about what he had been up to. In the window behind him, a very flustered Maggie was visible, which only made Merle's grin widen.

"Ya cummin'?!" he shouted again, this time emphasizing a different syllable before bursting into laughter.

Glenn squinted at him, clearly confused, then turned to Maggie with a shrug, saying something to her you couldn't hear.

You exchanged an amused look with Rick and continued hauling boxes of food inside. You couldn't help but notice that Merle was in an unusually high-spirited mood today. He was always loud, always a presence impossible to ignore, but today he was practically bouncing with energy. For a fleeting moment, you thought maybe—just maybe—he'd be more of a funny asshole rather than just an asshole. That would be an improvement, at least.

"What 'bout ya, Darylina?"

Merle had somehow ended up right behind Daryl. But the younger Dixon didn't even flinch, still focused on the busted engine. Every now and then, he flicked his hand back as if he was touching something way too hot to be messing with.

"Do ya even know what I'm talkin' bout, baby brotha?" Merle prodded, leaning against the van with that ever-present smirk.

The van rocked slightly, and Daryl finally looked up at him, irritation clear in his expression.

"I am doin' somethin'. Can't ya see?" he snapped, voice edged with frustration.

"Ya can talk and still do yar thing," Merle shot back smoothly. "So?"

They stared at each other for a second. You found yourself eavesdropping more than you probably should, but curiosity had the best of you. You even slowed your pace, carrying one of the bigger boxes extra carefully just so you could keep listening.

"M' not five anymore. 'Course I know what yar talkin' bout," Daryl muttered, turning back to the engine.

For the briefest second, his eyes flicked to yours. Caught. You quickly looked away, pretending to focus on your task, but you knew he had seen you listening. And you had seen something too. A flicker of something in his gaze—something close to panic.

"But ya know it's different when ya alone n' when ya not, right?" Merle pushed.

Daryl didn't answer. He just went back to work, which only made Merle roll his eyes. The smug look on his face said he already knew the answer, anyway.

Then Daryl bent lower, reaching deep into the engine, his entire arm disappearing under the hood. From where you stood, you couldn't quite see what Merle was doing, but there was a glint of mischief on his face—a look you had come to recognize as trouble.

And then—

A loud bang.

You nearly dropped the food in your arms as you saw the hood of the van slam down, trapping Daryl between the metal and the vehicle. Worse still, something inside the engine must have been knocked loose, because the hissing sound grew louder, and more smoke poured out than before.

Merle's laughter rang through the air.

You ran over without thinking, pulling the hood up as fast as you could. Daryl immediately staggered back, coughing violently, his chest heaving as thick smoke spilled from his lungs. One side of his face was bright red—burned. And a thin trickle of blood ran down from his temple.

"Merle! Are you insane?!" you shouted, still steadying Daryl as he fought to breathe. "That's your brother!"

"Oh, come on," Merle scoffed, still chuckling. "Ya don't understand, so don't interfere, would ya?"

"This is too much, even for you, Merle," Rick cut in, his disapproval plain.

"M' tryin' to teach him a lesson 'ere," Merle said, holding his hands up like he was being accused of something unreasonable. For the first time, he actually looked somewhat serious.

"Look at him," he gestured toward Daryl. "Havin' this pretty angel face n' all that n' not usin' it? That is a true crime, baby brotha. So he gotta learn to use it by losin' it first. Simple as tha'."

Ignoring Merle's bullshit, you turned to Daryl. His hand was covering the burned side of his face, and when he tried to touch it, his fingers flinched away instantly. The skin was too raw, too hot.

"Are you okay?" you asked, immediately regretting how stupid the question sounded.

Daryl stiffened slightly, like he hadn't expected you to be this close. He looked at you—just with one eye, since the other was probably swollen. And then, predictably, he nodded.

Behind you, chaos was unfolding. Rick and Glenn were trying to talk some sense into Merle, but it was quickly turning into an actual fight. You saw something flash in Daryl's expression. His whole posture screamed exhaustion, but you already knew—he was about to jump in.

"Leave it," you said, placing a careful hand on his shoulder. "Please."

"Nah."

That was the only warning you got before he turned on his heel.

"Have ya lost yar mind, you psychopath?!" Daryl roared, effectively shutting everyone up—except Merle, who only grinned wider at the sight of him.

"That's what I'm talkin' bout! That's ma baby brotha—!"

"Shut da hell up! Ya wanna kill me or somethin'? Then fight me like a man would!"

"Stop that," you stepped between them, ignoring their protests. "Daryl, we need to take care of your wound. This isn't helping."

"She's right," Maggie chimed in, gripping Glenn's arm instinctively as both brothers turned to look at her.

"Look at that, Darlina! A little help from yar big brotha n' girls already love ya!"

"Zip it, ya punk!"

"Come on, Daryl," you urged, stepping closer.

Meanwhile, Rick had finally managed to drag Merle a safe distance away.

Daryl still couldn't tear his furious gaze away from his brother. You grabbed his arm and tried to gently pull him along, but he didn't budge an inch. You had nothing to convince him with, so you pulled a little harder. Finally, the younger Dixon gave in. He followed you, but his eyes stayed locked on Merle, who was still arguing heatedly with Rick.

Your eyes were practically devouring the archer. Especially after what just happened, you could finally be honest with yourself. Damn, you like him. From the start, he was way more interesting to you than the others. Visually, even with that brutal burn on his face, he made your knees weak. And once again today, Daryl caught you staring a little too long. And once again, you quickly looked away.

"We unpacked all the med kits in the prison recently," you said suddenly. "I saw some burn gel bandages in there. They should help."

"A'right," he muttered, chewing on his bottom lip.

"What was that about?" you finally asked, unable to accept Merle's behavior—especially his excuses for it.

You instantly realized you shouldn't have asked when Daryl's face twisted into a scowl.

"Quit bein' nosey. You heard what it was about."

So you shut up. You scolded yourself internally for your behavior around him. Silence was probably better for both of you anyway.

In perfect quiet, you reached the small room that now served as a makeshift medical office. Everything related to medicine was in here, including the burn dressings you were looking for. First, you took care of the wound that had been bleeding earlier, but it wasn't anything serious—no stitches needed.

You could feel Daryl's blue eyes on you. He sat on the examination table, leaning back against the wall. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the first signs of pain were starting to show on his face.

You didn't even know why you were so nervous. Your hands were shaking as you rummaged through the bins. Even though you had organized them yourself not that long ago, your mind was completely blank. Finally—miraculously—you wrapped your fingers around the package you needed.

You turned around quickly, trying to shake off the nerves and get rid of the million other things in your hands. You were clumsy, unable to fully control your movements, and Daryl definitely noticed. He just watched, silent and unreadable, but not exactly subtle about it.

"It might sting a little," you warned him.

He just nodded. The first bandage only covered about half the burned area. Daryl didn't even flinch when it touched his skin. If anything, he let out a small breath of relief. You immediately started searching for another one.

"...M'sorry," he muttered suddenly. "Ya know... for earlier."

His deep voice, though quiet, seemed to bounce off the small room's walls. You froze for a second, then gave him a sad little smile.

"Don't be. I shouldn't have asked."

"S'just..." he started, then stopped, like he couldn't get the words out. "It's okay. M'used to it. To him."

"It's not okay," you shot back, maybe a little too fast, too direct. "Being used to something like that—to someone like your brother—is messed up. But yeah, do whatever you think is best. I won't interfere if you don't want me to."

"Why do ya care?" he asked.

And this—this was the moment you knew you were screwed. Because you didn't have any explanation except the truth. And neither of you were ready for that.

"Oh—" you blurted out, seizing the excuse to change the subject. You turned to him with a smile. "I found it."

You waved the bandage in front of his face, and he seemed momentarily thrown off. At least he didn't push the topic.

You unwrapped the dressing and leaned in closer. Carefully, you covered the upper part of the burn, including his eyelid, with the cool, transparent bandage, trying to be as gentle as possible.

Once it was fully in place, you looked him over. It still looked painful, but at least he didn't seem to be in unbearable agony. Thankfully, the injury wasn't as dangerous as it had appeared—but it was still unacceptable.

Then, you caught yourself staring again. This time, you were way too close, still leaning over him like when you had applied the bandage. Your fingers had absentmindedly brushed his jawline. His blue eyes locked onto yours, piercing straight through you, and suddenly, you felt a deep pull in your stomach. Your heart pounded faster than it should've, and heat rose to your face.

"Tell me," he murmured, quieter this time, calmer. "Am I readin' this wrong?"

You looked at him with something between sadness and concern, avoiding his gaze like fire avoids water. You adjusted a piece of the bandage that had slipped when he moved his mouth and stayed quiet. 

"Are you pityin' me?" he asked, his tone strange, suspicious.

And just like that, your entire idea of how this conversation would go went straight to hell. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out—not even a broken one.

"I don't need that. Don't deserve it," he said, leaning back slightly. "So quit it."

"It's not—" you started quickly, then hesitated, realizing what he had just said. "...But why wouldn't you deserve it?"

"I just don't. And it's pathetic."

What scared you the most was that he said it while looking right at you, with an empty, emotionless stare. Like he truly believed it.

"I like you," you finally admitted, barely swallowing the weight of his words. "A lot."

For once, you let yourself shamelessly watch his reaction. His brows furrowed—both of them—so you reached up again to hold the bandage in place. Something flickered in his eye, but you couldn't read what it was. Then, a smile appeared on his cracked lips, but it wasn't a happy one. More crooked, almost mocking.

"Yer funny," he muttered, leaning back against the wall again.

You blinked, once, then again, confused. Daryl didn't seem to notice your frustration—didn't realize he had completely misread the situation.

"I mean it," you insisted, emotions starting to spill across your face. "I do. And I'll understand if you don't feel the same way."

The silence stretched endlessly. You knew Daryl needed time, but you also felt like you were about to explode. The smirk had disappeared from his face, so you let yourself hope—just a little—that maybe, just maybe, he had actually heard you this time.

"I don't deserve that either," he finally said, completely unaware of how much those words hurt. "Why?" he asked then, carefully, like he was walking on the thinnest ice imaginable.

"That's... it's unconditional..." you began, but he didn't look convinced. "I mean, I could list things—traits—but it's just... you. In general."

"M'a mess. Ya deserve better."

You saw it. The movement. He wanted to stand up. He wanted to leave. But you weren't about to let him.

"What's your deal with this 'deserving' thing?" you fired back, stopping him in his tracks.

"S'some people dese—"

"Say something like that again, and I'm leaving," you interrupted, finally getting some kind of reaction out of him. "Do you like me back?"

"It's not about that."

"Oh, but it is."

Daryl clenched his jaw, the muscles in his face tensing so much that he looked like he was fighting with himself. He didn't respond right away. You could see his breath becoming shallower, his fists clenching slightly—not out of anger, but in a desperate attempt to keep his distance.

You took a step closer.

"Daryl" you said, softer now, but firmly. "Tell me."

He hesitated, then dropped his gaze.

"I like ya, alright?" he muttered finally, but almost immediately shook his head, as if trying to reject his own words. "But that don't mean nothin'."

Your heart pounded harder. There was something heartbreaking about him. This man, who could fight so brutally for others, completely refused to believe that he could be enough for someone.

"It does mean something," you didn't back down, even though you could feel his walls rising higher.

Daryl let out a quiet scoff and scratched the back of his neck, visibly tense.

"Listen, ya think ya want this, but ya don't. 'M too fucked up."

You sighed heavily and shook your head.

"You don't get to decide that for me."

He looked at you, surprised, as if no one had ever said that to him before.

"You think I'm blind?" you continued, holding his gaze. "The way you protect people, the way you care even when you act like you don't. You push people away 'cause you think they're better off without you, but that's not your choice to make."

Daryl remained silent, the tension between you thickening. Finally, he let out a deep breath and ran a hand over his face.

"I don't know how to do this."

You gave him a sad smile.

"Then let's figure it out together."

He didn't answer right away, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. It wasn't a grand confession or a sudden dramatic shift. But it was a first step. And that was enough for you.

[revelboo]

Gah, the swindle fic was so, so good!!! I feel so bad for saying it, but I was talkin’ about Swerve, the lil dork that runs the bar in Lost Light!!! I’m so sorry!!! 😭

This little bozo!!! :)

Yes, you were xD I was working on the next Scavengers when I saw it and my brain just went: Swindle. Ignore me, it’s cold and I’m struggling. 18+ 🌶️

Lose Control

IDW Swerve x Reader

• Placing a clean glass back where it goes, Swerve surveys his kingdom. Aside from Trailbreaker sprawled across the bar top making a low rumbling sound as he recharges, the bar is empty and quiet. It’s something he never thought he’d have, a space to call his own. Where he’s in charge and listened to. “Third last call, big guy,” he says, reaching out to nudge Trailbreaker with a servo. “You know you can’t keep sleeping in here.” Mostly because when he wakes up, he’ll start drinking again and he can’t open if Breaker drinks all the inventory. Again.

• “Seriously? Don’t make me drag you,” he groans, knowing it’s an empty threat. Trailbreaker is as big as two of him and then some. There’s no budging him short of going and asking Magnus for help. And listening to the complaints about his bar and Magnus’s love language- rule violations. No, he’d rather take his chances with one very over energized mech. Which means babysitting all night to protect the bar. Frag.

• After kicking Trailbreaker’s stool again, he wanders around the bar. Bored and tired. “I don’t care if you’re my best customer,” he mutters, dragging a table slightly away from a wall. And there’s a sharp cry and a tiny shape darting from the shadows. Somehow that manages to wake up Breaker. Everything seems to slow as he sees the small form running alongside the bottom of the bar, sees Breaker shift and slide out of his stool, a ped coming down. And he’s running, diving with his hands outstretched. Feels that soft body hit his palms as Breaker steps on him instead and comes down on him.

• Flung off balance, you roll end over end and go sliding. Realizing that the big monster had almost stepped on you without even noticing and the smaller one had pushed you out of the way to take the brunt of the impact himself. Your confused brain is screaming at you to run, but as your rescuer groans, you can’t. “What happened?” The bigger one complains as the red one hits him, flailing to get free.

• “You’re crushing me,” Swerve snarls, venting raggedly as he gets loose, head turning to find the human still there, eyes wide as you stare up at him. Tensed to bolt, but waiting instead. “Hey, tiny.” Wiggling his fingers at you only makes you back up a step, expression uncertain. “I wouldn’t run. I at least see you,” he tries, as Trailbreaker gets to his feet and staggers away, gawking. Of course he’d heard the rumors of Brainstorm’s screwup, but the machine was destroyed. Right? And you glance from him to Breaker and back, and take a tentative step forward. A human that shouldn’t be here, doesn’t belong. Too small to survive, and he gets being smaller than every other bot except maybe Tailgate. He’s short, but you can be stepped on. “Little things need to stick together.”

Next

[scleroticstatue]

"I'm not your responsibility, I'm your tool," he says, trying to make you understand. “No man — no sapient of any species or origin or universe, for that matter — should ever be reduced to a tool,” I reply flatly. “And that is a fundamental principle of my morality, so it will not be changing for you or anyone. And you’re still ignoring the question.” ... “Good. Glad we’re all clear on this.” I pat his uninjured shoulder gently, then back away to let Doc work. I turn to Gavrel, and to Furniture Man, though so far he hasn’t shown signs of absurd self-sacrificial tendencies. “The same goes for everyone in this room, incidentally.” "Yes, ma'am," Gavrel mumbles. Furniture Man seems to consider what you're saying rather than agreeing. (it’s always hilarious when I activate a young man’s respect for ladies instincts so hard that I get ma’am-ed. XD) I raise a firm eyebrow in Furniture Man’s direction but don’t start anything with him. One discussion like this per day is enough for me. "Do you care for lunch?" He asks after a moment. "Or should I allow you time to recover from your arduous morning?"

Was Peles feeling like a kitten was threatening him here, or just collecting more information on us all?

He's mostly trying to figure out why he's included in that, and why Morwen is like this, so maybe he can figure out other people in his life, but he's also considering the ramifications on the stability of the region, and allyship, and the fundamental structure of society. And, yes, scoffing at the kitten telling a tiger she's responsible for him.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Can you write something with young!Maverick?

Something like where they meet and she has heard about his reputation (he's the type to only stay a few nights and then move on to the next girl). So, when one night, he approaches her all smiley and flirty (and maybe a little shy and cute) she thinks that's exactly what he wants from her - to take her home for a night of sex just to move on to other people the next day. And, even though she has developed feelings for him, she accepts it, albeit with no expectation that she will become anything other than just another one he spent a night with or that it was anything other than just sex and fun. So, imagine her surprise when he starts acting the exact opposite towards her from what she expected - always wanting to be with her everywhere, skipping nightlife to be with her, being super clingy and loving, etc, etc. She doesn't believe he has feelings for her but she just can't understand his behavior. She starts to feel overwhelmed because her feelings for him only get worse and she fears the day when he will stop giving her that kind of attention (maybe she thinks this is just a harmless game for him, where she is the shiny new toy he is getting to know until she no longer interests him that much). She confronts him, confesses her feelings, gets angry and tells him to stay away. He desperately tries to tell her about his feelings for her, that he has always been in love with her and has tried to get closer to her through everything he has done because he didn't know what else to do. She doesn't believe him and it's basically him desperately trying to prove his love for her and all that cute stuff with a really happy ending 💖❣️

I also imagined a lot of cinematic chase scenes, inspired by that sand chase in There Are Rules and the f14 airport scene in Altitude 🤣🤣 so there's that. Lots of desperate, all-consuming love, perhaps ending with a love making scene that includes it all? Making desperate, passionate and hungry love. Someone so in love that they don't even know what to do, whether to cry or laugh.

You could also include a classic “misunderstanding scene” that unearths deep-rooted jealousy, but is it not what it seems? Lol it's all very cliché but honestly, it's the best shit in the world when it's written by someone who knows what they're doing, I live for desperate love.

I know this is extra long but hopefuly you'll be able to make it, I simply love your writing. Thank you. ❣️❣️

Oooh what a fun request! Thank you so much for sending this in!! I hope you don't mind, I kind of see this as a series rather than a one-shot, just because there's a lot to cover XD

Best of the Bad Boys

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff, allusions to sex

WC: ~2000

Masterlist

“That’s Maverick. Maverick Mitchell.”

You tear your gaze away from the animated man near the bar, throwing his arms around wildly as he describes some aerial trick he’s no doubt performed just that morning. You know exactly who he is, and yet, you turn to your friend jadedly and say, “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

She gives you a sardonic smile and skeptically scoffs. “Right. Like your father’s never mentioned his name.”

You shrug, glancing back at the pack of fighter jocks crowding the front of the establishment, each one admittedly a high-flier in his own right – pun intended. But Maverick… Maverick still manages to stand out. “He talks about all of them,” you reply nonchalantly, adding, “It’s not like I sit there and listen.”

“Why are you staring, then?”

You blink away, executing an elaborate eyeroll as you do, and fix your friend with a serious expression. “I can’t look?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“They’re nice to look at.”

Your friend nods in approval. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Doesn’t matter what his name is. What any of their names are. They’ll be gone in a couple of weeks.”

“Perfect fling material, if you ask me,” your friend wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“No thanks,” you respond with a grimace. Every couple of months, a fresh assortment of aviators arrives at Top Gun, ready to take on the world. Already the finest pilots in their respective squadrons, they are sent to train at the most elite fighter tactics school on the Pacific seaboard. Their egos soar higher than their jets and their heads are always in the clouds.

You see the various groups come and go – the program is only several weeks long – but it’s always entertaining to watch them transform over the course of their training. It’s why you frequent the officer’s club rather than any of the other pubs in the area. That and the cheap drinks.

“Probably for the best,” your friend sighs dramatically. “He’s got a reputation.”

You purse your lips, watching Maverick smile at the waitress as she distributes another round of drinks among the officers. You know about that too. “Point him out to me,” you say, as though you have no idea whom the conversation is about.

Your friend leans into the table and discreetly aims her finger in Maverick’s direction. “The pretty one,” she mutters.

You let out a small chuckle. “They’re all pretty.”

Your friend shakes her head. “Not that pretty.”

“Not that pretty,” you agree musingly. You make an effort not to fall for the top guns of Top Gun and, until Maverick, you haven’t had much trouble upholding that rule. But everything about him, from the squint of his eyes when he laughs to the radiant warmth of his smile, not to mention his muscular arms, makes your heart skip a beat.

And then he pivots in his stool and his gaze, coincidentally, lands on you. You hastily look away, hoping he didn't noticed you staring, and start to fiddle with the pearls of your necklace. Several moments later, you slowly lift your eyes to check if he’s still looking.

Your heart nearly springs up into your throat when you see that he is. His mouth quirks upward slightly before he gives you the kind of smile that says he’s confident you’ve already noticed him.

You don’t smile back. You’re not about to engage in this dance. You do not associate with pilots. Your friend, on the other hand, is all for the naval aviator experience.

“He’s looking at you,” she whispers excitedly.

“Stop,” you warn her sternly. “I’m not interested.”

“Well, I am,” she urges. “Let’s go talk to them. I like the blond one.” But before you can refuse for a second time, your friend mutters, “Oh god, never mind. They’re coming to us!”

You look at her in alarm and then gulp as several of the men from the bar approach your table. You glance up at them with raised eyebrows.

“Hello,” Maverick says, looking directly at you. He presses his lips together into a vexingly endearing sideways smirk.

When you don’t respond, your friend chimes in excitedly. “Hello, hello! Welcome!” she exclaims, as though she’s receiving guests for a dinner party. “I’m Susan. Hello!”

You eye her moodily as she motions for the newcomers to join the two of you at the table.

“Mind if I sit here?” Maverick asks, pointing to the seat next to you.

You meet his gaze reluctantly. “Knock yourself out,” you respond coolly. You’re still annoyed that he caught you staring and you intend to make it clear that you are not just some girl he can charm into bed.

Maverick’s smirk widens somewhat, as though he’s not quite buying the act. He takes a seat beside you while one of his friends starts chatting up Susan who seems very much to be enjoying the attention.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Maverick says, leaning over slightly so that he could speak more discreetly. “Slider, here, wanted to get to know your friend. And I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch him crash and burn.”

You glance at Maverick dubiously. “That’s why you’re here?”

Maverick looks at you, then, and his gaze drifts languidly over the features of your face. “Would you prefer a different reason?”

Ignoring the frantic stutter of your heart as his eyes settle on yours, you shrug and look away, taking a sip of your drink. If only he knew who your father was, he wouldn’t be so bold. “I would prefer honesty.”

“Okay,” he says, resting his forearm on the table. “Honestly? I couldn’t leave without meeting you.”

You glance back at him hesitantly, not sure how to react. “Why?” you ask, trying to control the embarrassing tremor in your voice.

Maverick drops his head and lets out a small chuckle. “I just couldn’t,” he says. “That’s as honest as I’m going to get.”

You eye him tentatively, wishing he weren’t so dangerously good-looking. His sheepish smile almost makes you forget that he dates women for sport.

But the longer Maverick sits by your side, the less important his apparent promiscuity becomes. And when the two of you wind up in the back alley behind the officer’s club, wrapped in each other’s arms, you aren’t overly concerned about the future outlook of this particular liaison. Something about the way he kisses your neck convinces you that some moderate heartache might just be worth it.

Maverick weaves his fingers through yours and lifts his arm over your head, pressing the back of your hand into the brick wall behind you. He cradles the back of your head with his other hand as his mouth moves hungrily beneath your jawline. You let out an audible sigh and he pins you even more firmly against the wall, as though the sound you made has aroused him further.

And despite your every intention to just kiss for a while before taking your leave – because you don’t do flyboys – Maverick has managed to change your mind without speaking a word. You want to tell him that you’re flattered but no thank you, instead, you breathe, “come back,” when he finally pulls away.

Maverick smirks at you and tugs on the hand he’s still holding so that you’re drawn directly into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers.

You wrap your arms around his body, flattening yourself against him like you mean to be absorbed. And he folds around you like a cocoon, his arms enveloping you so securely, you barely have to hold yourself upright. He moves backward, pulling you after him toward his bike.

…

“We fucked,” you tell Susan the moment she puts her car in park.

She looks over at you with wide eyes and an even wider mouth as her jaw literally drops. “You and Maverick?” she shrieks.

You wince anxiously and look around, making sure nobody heard her exclamation. Then you roll up your window and nod for her to do the same. “Keep it together, Susan,” you hiss. “We’re behind enemy lines.”

Susan grimaces apologetically but the remorse is fleeting and, before you know it, she’s eagerly bouncing in her seat. “As if you’ve been blabbering on about a fender bender for half an hour and drop this bomb right before you have to go!” she whispers feverishly. You give her a grievous look which she expertly ignores. “Was he good?”

You sigh. “He was fine,” you say curtly, still uncomfortable sharing the details of last night’s encounter while sitting in the parking lot outside Hangar 1.

Susan appears disappointed. “Just fine?”

You glance around once more and then respond quietly, “He was very good.”

“I fucking knew it!” Susan yelps, tapping you on the knee excitedly. “Tell me more!”

“Later,” you say. “I have to meet my dad, remember?”

She nods. “I’ll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Thanks, Suz,” you respond. “You’re a life saver.”

…

Your father, Top Gun’s very own Viper, paces back and forth as you sit in one of the chairs before his desk. He’s trying to keep his cool. “You sure you’re not hurt?” he asks again.

You nod tiredly. You’ve had a hell of a day.

Viper sighs moodily and shakes his head at you as though he’s not convinced.

It’s at exactly this moment that there’s a knock on his door and, as you begin to rise from your chair to leave your father to his duties, Maverick enters his office.

You freeze, meeting his gaze in alarm. Maverick, in turn, stops in his tracks, gaping at you from the doorway, forgetting even to salute his superior.

“Lieutenant,” Viper says. “You need something?”

Maverick, who seems unable to look away from you, stammers, “Do – I – uh…”

“Maverick,” Viper says sternly, and Maverick finally glances in his direction.

“Commander Metcalf,” Maverick says, a little dazed as though he’s surprised to find Viper in his own office.

“Speak, Lieutenant. I don’t have all day,” Viper grumbles, still irritable from the news he’s received during your visit.

Maverick, who seems unable to recall why he’s even come, gulps nervously and glances back at you again.

“Okay, well, thanks dad,” you say quickly. “I’ll be off now.”

Maverick’s face slowly morphs into a visage of terror as he realizes who you are and what, in fact, it means for him to have had relations with the commander’s daughter. He watches you in horror, beginning to mouth the word ‘dad’ before he catches himself and leaves his mouth hanging open on the ‘a’.

“How will you get home?” Viper asks you, not paying attention to Maverick’s reaction.

“Susan’s picking me up,” you respond.

Viper sighs again. Then, he sighs in Maverick’s direction. “Maverick, meet my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is Lieutenant Mitchell, recent Top Gun graduate and a helluva pilot. Hopefully, soon to be one of our newest instructors. If he finally remembers why he’s here, that is.”

Maverick glances anxiously between your face and Viper’s and then holds his hand out to you. “Pleased to meet you,” he says courteously, his eyes resting on yours for a significant moment.

You give him a tight smile and then give your father a hug. “I’ve got to go.”

Viper shakes his head all over again. “I still can’t believe that bastard hit you.”

“Who hit you?” Maverick looks over at you sharply, suddenly on high alert.

“Nobody – the other driver.” You exhale wearily, not too keen on repeating the story for a fourth time in one day. “I was in an accident –”

“Are you okay?” Maverick asks, immediately taking a step toward you.

“I’m fine, totally fine,” you assure him, taking several steps backward until you feel the doorknob at your spine. “I just need some rest.”

“We’ll sort out the car tomorrow,” Viper says.

“Hey, at least it wasn’t a jet, right?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Neither Viper not Maverick is amused by your humor, however, so you reach behind and pull open the door.

“Okay, well, bye dad! Mav – uh – Lieutenant Mitchell.”

Maverick stares after you as you retreat behind the door, still somewhat speechless.

“Tell Susan to drive carefully!” your father calls.

“Will do!” you call back.

Finally, Maverick speaks again. “I, uh” – he clears his throat – “I could give her a ride, sir.”

You pause in the doorway while your father purses his lips, considering the offer. Joke’s on him, of course, since Maverick has already given you one – just last night.

Read Part 2

Maverick Tag List:

I have no idea when this list got so long but the rest of it will be in the comments. Hope I got everyone, let me know if I missed you! As always, let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in my Mav works!

@wandering-wah

@callsign-sunshine

@ghost-heart34

@birdy-bat-writes

@matya4

@wkndwlff

@nyx2021

@bellamy1998

@oliviah-25

@alexxavicry

@army24--7

@thefandomimagines

@dracosluvbot

@smit41

@scenesofobx

@Criminalmindsandmarvel

@lunamoonbby

@malums-trash-can

@malindacath

@karleetakeenan

@callsign-echo

@toothemoonanddback

@broketraveler87

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@creativitybeware

@xoxabs88xox

@Yoyop7

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@rrocky0ah

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@latetedslesetoiles

@Elenavampire21

@starberryhorse

@ginger-gabsq

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@risingtripletaurus

@callsignmaverick5

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@hermaeusmorax

@littlebadariell

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

@gingerbreadandpaper

[ivysprophecy]

coincidence

warnings: this isnt a very... girls girl chapter XD got inspo from that one scene in oth where haley slaps daneel ackles lol sooo underage drinking, cursing, drinks thrown in faces, hair pulling, reader being difficult XD idk what else

word count: 1490

prev. | next

masterlist

summary: things with jj had been great, steady even. it was a whole month of pure bliss, so is it a coincidence that you predicted this was gonna happen?

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

things have been so great. jj and i have been great i should say rather. its likes nothing has changed but it has in the best ways.

and no ones said anything. no questions no pestering.

just us.

its been about a month since that day on the beach and to be truthful the sneaking around, stolen kisses, and small touches, its been so much fun.

granted i dont like lying to all of our friends but i think its been beneficial to our relationship. theres no pressure of any watchful eyes.

and its very helpful when they expect all the touching and glances anyway so like i said, its been easy and thrilling,

which leads us to now at a bonfire in the boneyard dancing and drinking and relaxing.

"im gonna go get another drink okay j?" he pats my thigh giving me that damn smirk.

"bring me one too mama, just a cup from the keg."

"you didn't use your manners maybank," i stand up looking back at him with a teasing smile.

he rolls his eyes tilting his head back pretending to be fed up with me. "please mama?"

"i suppose i can do that." i send him a wink. "ill be back in a minute, dont miss me too much."

"oh i miss you already," he smiles knowing exactly what its doing to me. hes sitting against the rocks with his legs spread and his arm splayed next to him resting against where i was sitting.

fuck he looks good. wanna take him home and climb him like a damn tree.

unfortunately to get to the keg i have to pass through the crowds of tourons, kooks, other pogues. its a giant mess of music, drama, and body odor.

with a few excuse me's and shoves i finally made it to the keg and coolers that house my preferred rum and cokes. i make my drink before grabbing jj's, marking the cups appropriately with one of the sharpies laying around.

ive only had three so its still legible.

doing my best to push past the crowds again with out spilling my drinks it takes a little longer to find my way back to my boyfriend.

who, when i turn past a group of people, i see him leaning against the rocks with some girl shoving her tongue down his throat. aggressively might i add.

so i do what any rational person would do in this situation. i threw my drink on her.

"fucking bitch!" i pull her off of jj by her obnoxiously long, thick, and blonde ponytail, "who the fuck do you think you are!? huh?! you like being a boyfriend stealing slut?"

"woah! woah? y/n-" i feel someone wrap their arms around my waist and pull me away from the girl, "take a breather i can explain-"

oh tell me he did not just say that.

"you can explain? you can explain how im gone for five fucking minutes and youve already got some dumb fucking touron wrapped around your finger? fuck that maybank! and fuck you!"

"mama! mama slow down! okay listen- just for two seconds listen to me!"

"i fucking trusted you!"

"you still can! i didnt kiss her!"

everyone has their heads turned in our direction at the sound of us bitching at each others face. including our friends.

this night just got shitty and its about to get a whole lot shittier. im not drunk enough for this. but somehow im also too drunk for this. you know what i mean?

"mama i wouldnt do that to you- cmon you know me. id never hurt you on purpose," jj pleaded for my sympathy.

i dont know if its the alcohol, the rage, or a combination of tonights events with the two. but i cant fucking deal with this right now.

"jj i saw you kissing her! dont fucking lie to me right now. i told you this wasnt gonna work. that it would be too much, too confusing, and that one of us was gonna do something the screw it up! but i prayed to god that it wouldnt be you j! and i NEVER wouldve thought itd be this soon. but i guess thats for the best right?"

"no! no its not- fuck. mama listen i didnt kiss her back! okay?! she was trynna feel up on me and talking about the island and shit and i tried to blow her off but she just-"

oh my god im seeing red.

i dont know whats true. i saw what i saw. i saw them kissing, and his body language didnt seem to convey that he didnt wanna be kissed. but maybe i saw it wrong? could i have? no. theres no way.

a good girlfriend would believe him, but isnt that just naive of me? what if he didnt want do this... i dont know. i dont know, theres no way. this is exactly what i was afraid of.

"jj dont start- i dont wanna hear it right now. i cant. i just cant. im done! im fucking going home. have fun with your little blonde!"

he goes and reaches for my arm trying to keep me close, letting out an exasperated sigh. "how are you getting home?"

"thats all youve gotta say right now? un fucking believable. ill walk home for all i care j but you need to let go of me right now."

"youre not fucking walking home y/n-"

"yes i am," i yank my arm from his grasp "and dont you dare follow me jj. im not afraid to have this fight right now but trust you dont want that. because you will stay single."

god i really wish i hadnt said that.

and with that i walk away without looking back. because i just cant help making things worse, its what i do best. i can already hear all the rest of the pogues running up to him with all these questions and i have no fucks left to give about it.

if he doesnt wanna answer them he can go back to the blonde girl. i wont be surprised.

what i am surprised about is to have john b run up behind me, turning me to face him gently.

"hey- um youve been drinking i dont really think you should walk home alone," john b, always playing hero.

"ill be fine jb. really. go back to sarah and jj ill be fine."

"you keep saying youll be fine but you look like youre about to cry."

damn. am i? i reach up to touch my face and feel a small trickle fall from the corner of my eye.

"look i wont bombard you right now just- let me walk you home? please? make sure youre safe?" i cant lie, itd be nice to know someone gives a damn about me right now.

"thanks john b... thats actually really nice of you," i wipe my tears away and sniff away the cracks in my voice.

how could i be so stupid? i dont do stuff like this. ever. and i just let it happen.

but i'm not wrong am? it cant be a total coincidence that i specifically brought this up with him and this is how it ends?

"... so... you and jj?"

"i thought you werent gonna bombard me?"

he throws his hands up in surrender "its only one question."

i sigh, throwing in the towel because one, hes my friend and he deserves to know. i shouldnt have lied to any of them. and two, it would feel nice to get some of this off my chest. "yea. me and jj. for about a month now.."

"a month??"

i send him daggers with my eyes warning him this is not the time as we walk down the dirt road that leads home to the chataeu.

"sorry- youre right. i wont bug you about it yet."

"yet," i let out a laugh that sounds bitchier than i meant it to be, "im sorry we didnt say anything... i was kind of afraid of this exact thing happening. wanted to keep it low key."

"i get it..." he leads me up to the door where he pauses for a minute. "but y/n/n, for what its worth i think you should hear him out. jj has done a lot of things, but cheating on you? thatd never be one of them."

i open the screen door taking off my flip flops as he speaks, unsure of how to take his suggestion.

"youre a really good friend john b. honest. but i need a little space from all of the jj talk right now. tell sarah im sorry i stole you from the party. have fun."

he nods understandingly, watching me flop onto the couch before walking back down the road.

i stare up at the ceiling thinking about how everything went so wrong so fast until sleep takes over.

[partywithoutsmiling]

Another AU that has been knocking around my mind for a while XD I call it Moonlit AU

It can be summed as such: Pop Trolls are pretty wild bunch when it comes to looks, varying in colours, flocking/fur patterns, glitter, freckles, hair, you name it

It got me thinking, what sort of thing would they find attractive in prospective partner? While singing/harmonizing could be a part of it (and ngl, that did made me think of the Happy Feet movies, as silly as those were), my mind turned towards more physical attributes

Thus, this AU was born- where one of the reasons why Pop trolls like to be most active at night (to party) is that a Moon's Light also allows them to appreciate fur/flocking patterns otherwise hidden, where the complexity and style varies from troll to troll, as is thought to show one's inner self

Contrary to what one would expect from the Princess (and future Queen) of Pop, Poppy's patterns are rather simple- but striking nonetheless, firm and bold stripes, like taking a wide brush to a canvas- straightforward but chaotic in their hardly orderly fashion Poppy struts her patterns; they are unique and dominant among the general showing of swirls, polka dots and flower like spottings She is aware her stripes are not considered the most attractive of features- too similar to that of a predatory critter, too sharp for who is supposed to be cheerful queen of equally cheerful people- but she is a romantic at heart and believes that when it will be time to choose a consort, those physical features are surface-level importance at best, and this is the mentality she has going forward, looking at the glowing marks of her friends and considering them equally beautiful no matter what.

Until she manages to spot Branch one night outside under the full moon light that is.

Branch's pattern, in high contrast to Poppy, is far more complex. Symetrical but delicate in its filigree, and far more detailed than anything the Princess has ever seen before. Usually, Branch ventures out only on moonless nights, as he feels the glow of his marks are too visible, too dangerous to just show out and about, for every dangerous predator to see- and it is purely bad luck when bad weather caughts him outside longer than he would have liked, and Poppy manages to catch the sight of him while he is completely unaware he had been seen.

All her conviction flies right out of the window, as she looks at his delicate patterning and her mind just goes blank and - Oh

Usually she would have called out to him, ask him to come to a party- but she feels mesmerized, hypnotized by the elegance of the filigree, and her mind longs for a way to memorate it forever- with a photo, or a painting- and she stares at the entrance of his bunker long after he vanished inside, completely stupefied and wrong footed.

Before, Poppy hardly ever gave Branch a thought, when it came to this part of Pop Troll culture; as part of her, guiltily, sort of assumed that with his lack of colour, his patterning would be rather bland as well- and besides, it's not like he ever shown a desire to participate in courting dances.

But now she is left with sudden new, and unexpected feeling- her heart and breath going now a bit faster everytime she catches a glimpse of him from now on, her cheeks flushing and her tail wagging in excitement

(Her desk's drawer is filled with failed cut out scrapbook pieces of leaves and tiny detailed filigree, as she attempts to journal her sudden and new discover and cant get it quite right)

Tldr; Pop Trolls have fur/flocking patterns that appear only under the moon's light, and Poppy finds Branch's so irresistibly attractive she hardly knows what to do with herself

This pushes her to try and spend more time with him- just spend time with him, no trying to push him to go to parties with her or trying to get him to sing or hug

For his part, Branch is both secretly pleased his own crush is now paying more attention to him than to Creek (who is not happy with this development) but also holy shit Poppy is paying more attention to him, so it is kind of unnerving for him, freaking him out

[nightlyrequiem]

Maybe something with Valeria as mom to a very talkative baby girl? While reader is just dying of love in a corner*blink blink* (sry I'm ovulating xd)

This was so cute! :(

I love my angst and tension but I never realised how good it feels to write something that's just wholesome. It makes me wonder how Valeria would actually be if she were a mother. I think I can see her being both overprotective and one of those parents that thinks her kid should break a few bones in life. Not what I wrote here, just a little headcannon.

Tags/Warning: Mentions of Pregnancy, WLW, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Unnamed but Loved Baby

Baby Babble

Tranquility is a heavy feeling. Though it's not similar to the heaviness of hopelessness. It isn't cumbersome rather comforting. You feel weightless as you sink into the couch. Cuddled up under three blankets. After many long, serious talks with Valeria, weighing the risks of having children, you finally proceeded with the IVF process. Due to the nature of Valeria's work, she couldn't be the one to carry. It was a lengthy process with needles and vitamins and pills. Almost two years of preparing and failing. It took a while but finally your body accepted her eggs and you carried your baby girl for eight and a half months. 

Your daughter was born a little early and a little sickly but made a swift recovery. So energetic and happy. Her conception was difficult, and the beginning wasn't simple, but she turned out to be such an easy baby. Rarely fussing and as healthy as she could be. Valeria didn't carry her, but she's just as invested, if not more than you. Often being the first one to get out of bed and check on her when she cries at night. When handling her baby there is no trace of the violent criminal, instead she's just Valeria. Stripped down of all her complex layers.

A few flickering candles light the clean-living room. A few toys scattered around the open space, stuffed animals and plastic contraptions with cartoonish smiling faces.

"Come here." Valeria coos. Crouched down with her arms spread. Recently, your daughter has begun to start using her legs. Awkwardly stumbling in small bursts before tumbling down onto her knees. Your daughter smiles, her chubby cheeks looking even chubbier and that makes you smile in turn. She pushes herself onto shaky feet and takes cautious, wobbly steps towards her mother.

"Ba! buh." She babbles. A talkative thing, she is. Valeria has taken it upon herself to start teaching her the basics of Spanish. Even before she started to crawl Valeria was dutifully making flash cards. Simple words and grammar. She hasn't said her first word yet, but you believe it will be soon. 

"That's right, come here mija."

Your daughter blows raspberries and falls to her knees. Landing soundlessly on the carpet.

She gets back up and continues on. Your persistent little girl. She makes it into Valeria's arms where she's promptly lifted up.

"¡Mi niña fuerte! Estarás corriendo de un lado a otro en poco tiempo." Valeria says, voice high pitched.

"No baby talk." You remind her gently. As hard as it is, the pediatricians discouraged baby talk. It can negatively impact the development of their speech.

Valeria sighs and nuzzles her baby's nose with her own. "I know, I know." Valeria jerks her head away as your baby swings a tiny fist at her. Eliciting an amused chuckle from the both of you.

"Mmm." Your baby hums. "Mma."

"It sounds like she's saying 'ma.''" You remark, lips twitching from how precious she is.

Valeria holds her up and looks at her, smiling warmly.

"it does," She laughs. "'mama', say 'mama.'"

"Am."

"Ma-ma." Valeria walks over and sits down next to you. Adjusting the blankets over her thighs. Your baby sat on her knee with an arm holding her up. You lean against Valeria.

"Mam."

Her little voice makes your heart swell. What will she sound like when she grows into her forever voice? She blinks her big brown eyes, so much like Valeria's. 

"My beautiful family." Valeria murmurs softly. Kissing your forehead.

"Mama."

You gasp in excitement. Grabbing Valeria's arm. "She said it!"

Valeria strokes your daughter's cheek.

"You're so smart." She says thickly. "Say 'mama'. Say 'mama' sweetie."

"Mama!" Your baby squeals. Valeria's face lights up. You're overjoyed that both of you can be here for this milestone.

You yawn but fight back sleep. Wishing you could stay in this moment forever. Capture it in a little bottle to carry around with you. To hold and admire in your darkest moments. A reminder of what you have and what you're living for. Your wife, and your daughter. The two most important people in your life.

"She'll be graduating college before we know it." Valeria whispers fondly. Resting her head against yours.

"Shhh." You reply. "Don't say that. She'll be this small forever." You gently trace the curve of her nose. Trying to burn the sight into your memory.

[saichisugimoto99]

I will always be there

Pairing/s: Ethan Landry x F!Reader

Summary: Ethan starts to have doubts because of his family, but you are there to dispel them all.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, a little bit of angst i guess, fluff. (Our dear Ethan needs some comfort).

W/C (Word Count): 700+

A/N (Author's Note): I wrote this Valentine's Day special in 2 hours. I was inspired by the song "I'll Be There" by Jess Glynne for this drabble (I don't know if I can call it that but anyway xd). I hope it doesn't have too many mistakes, enjoy it.

Song: "I'll Be There" by Jess Glynne

Ethan had been over to his dad’s house for some “family time.” He still doesn’t know why he went, the only thing he got out of that dinner were his dad’s disappointed comments directed at him, Richie’s scorn and cruel remarks, Quinn’s mocking comments. When he got back to the apartment, the lights were off. Chad was probably with Tara celebrating Valentine’s Day. He didn’t even bother to turn on the lights and just walked to his room, slammed the door shut with his foot, threw his backpack on the floor, and laid down on his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt so… empty, alone. Without realizing it, his eyes began to fill with tears, falling down his cheeks, as he remembered the shitty day he’d had.

And as if you could know how he felt, his phone lit up with a message. Ethan smiled instantly, wiping the tears from his face and forgetting his pain as he read your message:

Y/n: Baby? Are you home already? Ethan: Yeah, I got here 5 minutes ago, gorgeous. Y/n: The family reunion was a waste, wasn't it? Ethan: I don't even know why I expected anything different, it's always the same. I would have much rather spent Valentine's Day with you. Y/n: Who says we can't finish Valentine's Day together? Give me 15 minutes and I'll be at your door <3

Ethan jumped up and walked over to the light switch to turn it on. He quickly began to quickly clean up the mess in his room. Even though you've told him countless times that you don't care about his mess, he still insists on cleaning up, he has to do it anyway. 10 minutes later you're already knocking on the door and Ethan runs to open it, he was excited to see you.

He opened the door and saw you in pajamas, with a backpack on your shoulder and a bag full of candy in one hand. Before you could say anything, Ethan put his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to give you a tender kiss on the lips. You reciprocated as you placed your other hand on his cheek. You broke away from the kiss with a smile, which disappeared when you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend's red and swollen eyes.

“Eth, how long were you crying?” You asked, your voice was sweet and soft, but your gaze was full of sadness and concern, as you caressed his cheek tenderly. Ethan sighed, his smile fading for a moment as he leaned into your touch, placing his hand over yours.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t long.” Ethan smiled again, but his eyes were sad. You shook your head and entered the apartment, closing the door behind you, taking his hand and leading him to his room. You forced him to sit on the edge of his bed and closed the door, leaving the bag of candy on his desk and the backpack next to his on the floor. You straddled his lap and began to run your fingers through his pretty curls, while he wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his face in the crook of your neck. “Tell me what happened, sweetie.”

Ethan began to tell you through tears what happened at his father’s house, he told you about the cruel comments, the teasing, and about what he thinks of himself. “I feel like I’m not loved by anyone, that I’m alone. My own family despises me. What did I do wrong to be treated like this? Or is it that I don’t deserve to be loved?” Before he could continue, you interrupted him by taking his face in your hands. “I forbid you from saying that. You deserve to be loved, you deserve all the love a human being should receive. Whenever you need love, I will be there to share it, I have more than enough for you. You will never be alone, I will always be with you, no matter where you are. If you want a family, you and I can be one. As long as I am here, I will not let your heart break, I promise, Ethan.”

You put your forehead against his, and Ethan felt himself falling in love with you again. Your words full of love and sincerity helped him breathe again. His family no longer mattered at that moment, only the two of you did. Yes, he was no longer alone.