I don't own nor do I claim to own any of the characters or fandoms below. The only things I own are my stories and some more of my work can be found here on AO3.
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The Sorcerer's Apprentice
Series
Maxim Horvath
Labyrinth AU
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Sequel
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Harry Potter
Drabbles
Remus Lupin
Poly Wolfstar x Reader angst
Sirius Black
Poly Wolfstar x Reader angst
Series
Lucius Malfoy
The Marriage Law that shook Wizarding Britain
Remus Lupin
This is a world of colour but I only care about the blue of your eyes
Sirius Black
Mystery of dreams and reality, 2, 3, 4
Harry Potter Crossovers
The Devil Has a Name
Reunited
Twilight
One shots
Aro Volturi
Spooktober 2025 ask
Caius Volturi
Spooktober 2025 ask
Marcus Volturi
Spooktober 2025 ask (1)
Spooktober 2025 ask (2)
Carlisle Cullen
Spooktober 2025 ask
Headcanons
Qui-Gon Jinn
Sibling AU
Severus Snape
Sibling AU
Moodboards
This is a world of colour but all I care about is the blue of your eyes
Once stung, thrice bitten
The price of desire
Competition for a heart
The Paw-tential of Magic
Bitten by history
Bitten by history (2)
A Dash of Magic and a Sprinkling of Memories
Journey through the past
Unveiling the Inexplicable
It's a highway to hell but oh, the things we do for love
Seasonal Writing
Halloween 2023
It's a highway to hell but, oh the things we do for love
Summary: He had no right to come back. No right to find you dressed in silk, standing beside a man who was never meant to have your heart. But Boba Fett never cared for rules.
They told you he died.
The words came cold, like the wind that blew off the desert sands the day you buried your heart.
No body. No grave. Just the echo of a name spoken like a prayer that no one answered. Boba Fett was gone.
So you tried to move on.
You smiled when courtiers bowed. You held your chin high when the noblemen brought flowers. You let them dress you in silk and gold and call you their jewel.
Eventually, a prince came, kind, well-dressed, with promises of safety and security.
You said yes. What else was left?
But at night, when the halls were quiet and your bed was too wide, you still reached for someone who wasn’t there.
A man in armour. A man who never said much, but who made you feel like no one else ever existed.
You dreamed of him. You never stopped.
Then one day, the palace shook.
It was not an army.
It was him.
Older. Scarred. Cloaked in darkness and fire.
The bounty hunter who once loved you like a man starved had come back, not as a ghost, but as a king. A ruler of Tatooine, armoured and unbending. And when his helmet lifted, his eyes found yours like they had never stopped looking.
You didn’t run to him. Couldn’t. Not when you wore a ring that belonged to another man.
He didn’t speak. Not at first. Just looked. And when your fiancé reached for your hand, Boba stepped forward.
“She doesn’t belong to you.”
“She said yes to me,” the prince said.
“She said yes because she thought I was dead.”
Silence fell.
Your heart beat like thunder.
The prince turned to you. “Is that true?”
You couldn’t answer. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. Your hands shook.
Boba looked at you, softer now. “Tell me, cyar’ika. Tell me if you love him, and I’ll walk away.”
Your throat tightened. “You left.”
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t choose it. But I’m here now. I built something for both of us. I came back for you.”
You closed your eyes. “It’s too late.”
He stepped closer. “It’s not.”
“You don’t get to say that.”
“I know. But I will. Every day, if I have to. I’ll wait outside this castle until you ask me to leave. Or until you come home with me.”
You turned to the prince. He was silent. He knew. Maybe he always had.
Later that night, you left.
Not through the grand doors. Not with fanfare or servants.
You walked quietly into the desert, where he waited, a ship behind him, humming with warmth and promise.
He held out his hand.
You took it.
Now, your days are warm again.
You live in his home, a fortress carved from sand and steel. He makes you tea in the mornings. You press kisses to the scars no one else ever sees. He sleeps beside you without armour, but never without holding you. And sometimes, when he thinks you’re not listening, he whispers your name like a prayer.
“I thought I lost you,” you tell him, one night beneath twin moons.
He brushes his thumb along your cheek. “You never did. I just took too long to come back.”
And this time, you will never let each other go again.
---
Morning came slowly on Tatooine.
Not because the sun was kind but because in the walls of Boba’s home, time moved softer now.
Slower. Safer.
You woke to the scent of tea and something warm pressed against your back. His arm, draped around your waist. His breath was steady, warm against your shoulder. You shifted slightly, and he stirred.
“Stay a little longer,” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep.
You smiled into the pillow. “You said that yesterday.”
“And the day before.”
You turned to face him. His eyes were open now, lined with years and memory. There were days he still looked tired, but never when he looked at you. When he looked at you, he softened.
“Did you make breakfast?”
“Sort of,” he said. “Didn’t burn it this time.”
“That’s not saying much.”
He kissed your forehead, a slow, reverent thing. “Go on. Before it gets cold.”
You put on one of his shirts, walking barefoot into the kitchen.
The fortress was made of stone and old metal, but he had turned it into something that felt like home.
Plants you didn’t know the names of hung in shaded corners.
A sand-worn rug curled beneath the table. His weapons were stacked on a bench by the door, but they no longer felt threatening. They were part of him, just like you were now.
He brought out a tray, toast, fruit, and what looked like nerf sausage. The tea was strong enough to wake the dead. You sat together at the table, the early heat creeping in through the slats of the wall.
“You still don’t like the sun,” he said quietly, watching you shield your eyes.
You nodded. “It’s too harsh.”
“I can have the windows shaded. All of them.”
You smiled, reaching for his hand. “You don’t need to fix everything, Boba.”
“I want to.”
Later, he took you to the rooftop.
It was one of your favourite places, high above Mos Espa, where the noise of trade and engines faded into a steady hum. You watched the twin suns dip into orange, your head on his shoulder, his fingers tracing idle circles on your arm.
“I used to imagine this,” you said softly.
“This?”
“You. Me. Quiet. Safe.”
He said nothing for a while. “I didn’t think I’d get to have this.”
“You do.”
His gaze met yours, steady as ever. “You’re not afraid? Of the life I lived?”
You turned fully to him. “I was afraid of a life without you. That’s worse.”
He kissed you then, not like a conqueror or a bounty hunter, but like a man who had been lost and found. Like he’d waited too long for something that was finally his.
That night, you bathed together.
He was quiet as you helped him out of his armour, setting each piece down with care. You washed the dust from his skin, the old scars and the new. He let you.
In the candlelight, he looked younger. Not because time had changed, but because love had softened him.
You traced the lines of his brow, the set of his mouth.
“You still think I’ll leave?” you asked quietly.
He shook his head. “No. But I still wake up afraid you won’t be here.”
You took his hand. “Then let me stay, every day. As long as you’ll have me.”
“I’ll have you until the end.”
And in your shared home, with the stars shining over Tatooine, you believed him.
Because Boba Fett didn’t make promises lightly. And when he held you close, heart to heart, you knew.
You were his.
And he was yours.
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
Wattpad
/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
synopsis: Robby starts his apology. Jack learns to keep his mouth shut. your family sucks.
notes/warnings: our girl's going through it still. sorry about that. the groveling begins but Robby's still a little stupid.
wc: 3.1k
Series Masterlist
Chapter Sixteen - Feelin' Myself
wish you luck, won't slow down
i'm coming for my piece of the crown
that man's tough, here's my sound
if you don't like it, then i'm telling you now
You were half-asleep on the couch, the glow from the TV the only light in the room. Your phone buzzed on the table, pulling you fully awake. Jack’s name flashed on the screen and you answered with a smile, your heart doing that traitorous little leap it always seemed to do when he called. “Hey,” you answered, trying not to sound like you’d been dozing. He always felt bad when he woke you up. You shifted on the couch so you were upright and pulled the blanket across your lap after you pulled your legs onto the cushion with you.
“Hey, sweet girl.” His voice was gentle as always, soft. “How are you doing?”
You stared unseeing at the TV. “I’m okay.”
It was the same answer you always gave him. The same lie you told him and yourself every day. Your pain had dulled into something more manageable, but your life was still disrupted, too damaged for you to feel happy with it.
“I was calling because I wanted to see you. Maybe have you over for dinner tomorrow night? I can make your favorite.”
Your grip tightened on the phone as you considered the invitation. “At the house?” you finally asked.
“Yeah.”
“And will Robby be there?”
The silence stretched for a beat, then he said, “That’s the idea.”
“No.” The word came out sharp, irritated.
“No?” He managed to sound almost offended.
“Did I stutter?” You immediately regretted snapping and took a deep breath. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not upset with you. You did nothing wrong. I’m glad you went home and you and Robby made up. But if he wants to fix this, he has to fix it. Not you.”
You could picture him running a hand through his curls, the crease between his eyebrows deepening as he considered his response. “I’m just trying to—”
“Make things easier for him?” you finished for him, though you were positive that wasn’t what he was about to say. “That’s what you do when you love someone. You try to fix things. It’s one of the many things I love about you. But this actually has nothing to do with you. Something you made very clear when you went home. I accepted that and you need to as well. I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle. If it’s too much, don’t feel like you owe me anything.” The words caught in your throat. “I need to go.”
“Wait—”
You ended the call before he could say anything else and dropped the phone into your lap. You turned off the TV, plunging the room into near-darkness, the only light in the room filtering in from the kitchen. The phone buzzed in your lap. You glanced down to see a text from Jack. I love you. We both do. You didn’t bother responding.
You tried to force your mind to think about anything but Jack telling you he was going home. But Robby’s angry face the last time you’d seen him. But your thoughts kept circling back. What else could you do when your whole world had collapsed but remember the end?
You’d gotten your revenge on Chelsea and her minions, publicly calling them out, making sure everyone knew what they had done. The boys had insisted on celebrating, so you’d sat at Sam’s bar and smiled and laughed at the appropriate moments. But it had all felt hollow. Because at the end of the day, you still went home to an empty apartment. Still woke up in the middle of the night reaching for someone that wasn’t there.
You weren’t angry at Jack for going home. For choosing his partner that he’d been with for years, that knew him more intimately than you could ever hope to. Not really. But sometimes, just sometimes, you wish he’d chosen to stay here with you. That you had been worth even a second’s hesitation on his part. Maybe it was time to just move on from it all.
Robby sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, head bowed as Jack paced the length of the living room. The call had gone as badly as Robby had feared it might. The silence that followed was thick with tension.
“This is all my fault,” he said finally, dragging a hand down his face. “Sit down, Jack. You’re going to hurt your leg.”
Jack stopped pacing and dropped into one of the chairs. “I shouldn’t have pushed her. We should have known she’d react like this.”
“It’s not your fault. She’s mad at me,” Robby insisted. “I’m the one who fucked up.”
“I knew she wasn’t ready. I just…” Jack sighed. “I miss her, man. I miss the three of us together. I thought if we could just get you two in the same room maybe you could start working things out.”
Robby leaned back. “I know. I was hoping for the same thing. What if I’ve lost her, Jack? What if she never forgives me?”
Jack was quiet for a long moment. “She loves you. I know she does. But what you did…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
“I know. I know how bad it is.” Robby closed his eyes, shame washing over him. “I hurt her so badly. I hurt both of you because I was too terrified she would hurt me first.”
“Yeah, you did. But you want to fix it. You’re trying to fix it. That counts for something.”
Robby turned his head to face him. “Not enough, apparently. So, what do I do now if she won’t come over for dinner?”
“You need to show her you’re serious. That you’re willing to put in the work. Hell, we both do at this point. I’m pretty sure she’s no happier with me at the moment,” Jack said.
“So what? Flowers? Candy? Hell, I’ll buy her fucking pony at this point if you think it would help.” The words came out more bitter than Robby had intended.
Jack rolled his eyes. “No ponies. No animals period while we’re on the topic. Gestures. Things that show you’re thinking about her, that you listen to her. The kind of things she always does for us without being asked.” He leaned forward to make sure his partner was really listening. “She loves making people feel seen. That’s why what you did hurt so much. You made her feel invisible. Like everything she thought you knew about her was wrong.”
Robby swallowed hard. He had reduced you to the worst possible version of yourself based on nothing but his own insecurities. “Where do I start?” His voice was little more than a whisper.
“You start with little things. Show her you’re paying attention. That you’re thinking about her. That you’re trying to be better.”
“And then what?” Robby was desperate for a map, instructions that might get him back to where he’d been before he threw it all away.
Jack shrugged. “Then you hope it’s enough to get her to give you the chance to do the big things.”
“And if it’s not?”
“Then you keep trying.”
The knock came just after eight in the morning. You were already up and drinking your second cup of coffee. Sleep had been restless as of late, and you’d rolled out of bed just after five when it became clear you weren’t getting anymore rest. You grabbed Jack’s hoodie draped over the back of a chair and slid it on as you headed for the door. Through the peephole, you saw a delivery person holding a large bouquet of flowers. Your heart did that traitorous leap again as you opened the door.
The woman said your name and once you’d confirmed, handed over a massive arrangement of spring flowers. The scent of lilacs invaded your senses. “For you.”
“Thanks,” you managed, taking the flowers from her. “Just a second, let me get you a tip.”
She waved you off with a smile. “Already taken care of. Have a nice day.”
You stood in the doorway for a moment, arms full of flowers. You set the bouquet on the counter and searched for a card amongst the blooms. The only thing you found listed only your name and address, no greeting, no message. No apology. You snapped a picture and sent it to Jack. You or Robby?
Mike. Mine will be there later.
You rolled your eyes and set your phone on the counter beside the vase. The flowers were gorgeous, no question, but they meant nothing. Not really. A generic arrangement he could have ordered by calling almost any flower shop in town. A phone call where he’d evidently provided your name, address and his credit card number but couldn’t be bothered with a message.
You received another smaller arrangement of tea roses from Jack that afternoon. Peach and pink along with a lovely message apologizing for the dinner invitation. All of it signed off with an I love you, Jack. You sent a simple thank you text as your gaze turned once more to the arrangement from Robby. You sighed and wandered into the living room to get some work done.
The next morning started the same way, with a knock on the door and a delivery. Breakfast this time. You texted on and off with Jack and had a brief call with him before he started his shift.
Another morning and another knock. This time, when you opened the door, you were surprised to find your landlord. He handed you a piece of paper. “Here.”
You glanced at the paper and frowned. “What is this?”
“Rent’s paid. Three months.”
You blinked, certain you’d misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Your rent. It’s been paid in full for the next three months.” He tapped his fingers on his thigh obviously already done with the conversation.
“By who?” you asked, though you were certain you already knew the answer.
He leaned forward and tapped the paper in your hand. “Says right there. M. Robinavitch.” You tried not to cringe as he horribly butchered the pronunciation of Robby’s name. “The boyfriend, right?”
“Not the boyfriend,” you corrected automatically. “Thanks for letting me know.”
He nodded but was already on his way down the hall. You closed your door and leaned against it, mind racing. “Michael Robinavitch, you’re a fucking idiot.” You grabbed your keys and headed out, pushing the thought from your mind. An apology delivered via money order wasn’t an apology at all.
In the days that followed, you continued to talk with Jack both by call and text. He didn’t mention Robby again, instead simply checking in, asking how you were, filling each other in on your days. Robby, by contrast, remained silent. No calls, no texts. Just more flowers and gifts that never seemed to quit coming. A first edition of your favorite book. A bottle of an expensive whiskey you’d mentioned loving the taste of. A scarf in your favorite color. You accepted them all, used them even. But you didn’t call. Didn’t text. Didn’t acknowledge the gifts in any way. It wasn’t out of spite or anger, not anymore. It was simpler than that. You were waiting. Waiting for the one thing you hadn’t received yet. A sincere apology.
A week after the flowers had arrived, a small package was delivered to your door. It was wrapped in plain brown paper with no shipping label, just your name written across the front in Robby’s distinctive handwriting. You took it inside, staring at it before curiosity won out. You tore open the paper to find a small box. Inside, nestled on a bed of black velvet was a silver chain with a small caduceus symbol.
You lifted it carefully, the metal cool against your fingers. It was beautiful, delicate. Simple but elegant and exactly the kind of thing you liked to wear every day. He certainly knew your taste. It was the kind of gift that showed thought, that acknowledged who you were and what mattered to you. You closed the lid and set the box on the shelf beside your tattoo fund jar that you kept for some reason despite no longer having a need for it. You left the gift there without another glance.
A knock sounded late afternoon of the next day. You’d gotten used to the pattern by now. A knock followed by a delivery with no note. You opened the door without checking the peephole first. Instead of a delivery person, you found a man in a suit holding a manilla envelope. He read your name off the front.
“That’s me,” you confirmed.
He handed you the envelope. No sooner had your fingers closed around it then he snapped a picture with his phone. “Consider yourself served. Have a nice day.”
He didn’t even give you a chance to respond before he turned and walked away. You closed the door and tore into the envelope, having a suspicion of what was inside and you were correct. Your family was suing you for what they felt was their due from your grandfather’s estate. They were alleging undue influence and diminished capacity claiming pops hadn’t been in his right mind when he changed his will to leave everything to you.
Your eyebrow ticked ever higher as you read through the papers. They were claiming you had isolated your grandfather from the rest of the family. That you’d manipulated him into changing the will. That you’d taken advantage of an elderly man’s confusion for your own gain.
Fucking assholes. You headed to the corner where you kept your printer/scanner and fed the papers into it. You called Max as you watched the document feed through the machine. He answered on the third ring.
“As anticipated, I’ve been served. They’re contesting the will.”
There was a moment of silence before he sighed. “I see. They’re stupider than I thought. Was there anything surprising in the filing?”
“Not that I could see. I’m scanning it to send to you as we speak.”
“Good. I’ll read over it and get back to you. Like I said, this is nothing to be concerned about. There were provisions in place for all of this. Your grandfather was thorough.” After a beat, he added, “I am sorry for this, though. You deserve better.”
You hummed in acknowledgement. “The universe seems to disagree with you at the moment. I’ll get this sent to you in just a bit. Thanks, Max.”
Your phone rang just after ten that night, Jack’s name lighting up the screen. You didn’t hesitate to answer, knowing he was at work and likely wouldn’t have long to talk. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself, sweetheart. How are you doing?” His voice was warm, though he sounded tired.
“I’m okay. Just a lot going on.” You had no intention of sharing any details about your grandfather’s estate. Not when they were still unaware you’d even inherited it.
Someone called his name in the background. “Just a minute,” he said before returning his attention to you. “Listen, I just have a second but I was wondering if you wanted to meet for breakfast tomorrow after my shift.”
“Just us?” you asked.
“Yeah. Just me and my girl.”
“Seven thirty at the usual place?” you asked, not even thinking of declining. You’d missed him.
“Sounds great. See you then.”
The diner looked the same as always, not that you’d expected anything different. You’d arrived a little early, content to get in an extra cup of coffee. You just taken the first sip of your second cup when Jack walked in. He’d stripped his scrub top leaving him in cargos and his t-shirt. He looked tired but his face broke into a wide smile when his gaze landed on you.
He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before sliding into the booth across from you, reaching for the menu. How he didn’t have it memorized by now, you had no idea. “Sorry I’m late. Got held up.”
“You’re like five minutes late. I got here early,” you told him.
He nodded, gaze flicking over you, taking you in. “You look tired.”
You huffed a humorless laugh. “Well, I’ve been sleeping like shit so…”
The waitress appeared and took your orders before disappearing once more.
Jack leaned forward slightly. “I miss you.”
Your fingers tightened around your mug. “I miss you too. Both of you, if I’m being honest.”
Something flashed in Jack’s eyes. Hope maybe, or relief. “Mike’s trying. The gifts, the rent, he’s doing everything he can think of to show you he’s sorry.”
You sighed and pushed your mug away from you. This is what you’d been afraid of when you accepted his invitation. It’s why you hadn’t pushed to see him sooner. “No, Jack. He’s trying to buy me. He called me a whore because I took things from you and then slept with you. He’s not going to get me back by spending his money.”
You stood, grabbing your bag from the seat beside you. You stopped at his side of the table and leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a slow, deliberate embrace. When you pulled back, his eyes were wide, a flush creeping across his cheeks.
“I love you, Jack.” Your voice was steady despite the tears threatening at the corners of your eyes. “But this isn’t fair to you. Maybe we should just put all of this on hold for a while.”
You turned to leave but his hand shot out, catching your wrist. His thumb moved in a slow circle against the inside of it, his touch gentle but insistent.
“Don’t do that,” he said, voice low and urgent. “Please don’t do that. I’ll shut up about Mike.”
You looked at his hand on your wrist then back to his face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
His grip didn’t loosen. “Then stay.”
You hesitated before nodding once. “Scoot.”
He hastily slid over, still holding onto your wrist, not letting go until you settled in the seat beside him. “I didn’t ask you here to talk about him. I asked because I wanted to see you. Because I’ve missed you. Every day without you feels wrong.”
The honesty in his voice had you swallowing a lump in your throat. “I’ve missed you, too. So much.”
His hand moved up to the side of your face as he turned your head to look at him. His thumb traced your cheek. “I don’t care what’s going on with you and Mike. I don’t care if you never speak to him again. You’re stuck with me, sweet girl. Whether you like it or not.”
(The best of this post and its reblogs, but with links that work)
Here is a website where you can scroll down to all the different levels of the ocean
Here is a website where you can see the future of the universe
Here is a website where you can press a ‘make everything okay’ button, over and over, until things really are okay
Here is a website that you can read if you feel like a burden
Here is a website where you can look at strobe illusions (TW strobe/flashing)
Here is a website where you can cut stuff up (TW blood/sh)
Here and here are websites where you can play with sand
Here is a website where you can draw with macaroni and other fun foods
Here is a website where you can paint someone’s nails
Here is a website where you can grow a garden with emojis
Here is a website with hundreds of videos of people hugging you (rightfully dubbed ‘the nicest place on the internet’ because it really is, y’all, it made me cry)
Here is a website that will take you to other useless websites
Here is a website where you can make a tiny cat play bongo drums (and other instruments!)
Here is a website to help give you gentle reminders <3
Here is a website where you can grow a tiny farm
Here is a website where you can take a bunch of scientific personality tests
“honey!” Saul called. I headed down the hall and leaned against the door to our bedroom. “Help.” He said, looking at me in the mirror. His hands held the ends of his tie away from his chest.
“with what?” I asked, walking over as he let the ends fall. “Oh. I thought you were good at that.”
“I’m too anxious.” Saul sighed. “I can’t quite get it.” He ran his hands over his pant legs.
“oh ok.” I teased, smiling at him as I reached for his tie. “It’s not an excuse to get me close to you? Tugging on a piece of fabric and bringing you closer and closer.” Saul’s cheeks tinted pink as he looked at me.
“of course not.” He muttered. “As much as I love you tugging on my tie…” he nervously brushed his hair out of his face. “Today is a big day. And I don’t want anything to go wrong.” I patted his chest as I leaned over to kiss him.
“Saul, it’s ok. I’m teasing.” I assured him as I adjusted the tie around his neck. “Trying to get you to loosen up a little.” Saul nodded as I tugged his collar up.
“I’m just nervous I’m going to fuck up. Start rambling or quoting something I shouldn’t. Like from the hip. Admissibility of the word asshole or something.” Saul murmured. I carefully twisted his tie around itself. His head tilted back a little as I slipped the end through. “And then you know I’ll end up in contempt of court and you’ll have to come bail me out. And honestly I don’t think that is going to work for any of us.” I carefully folded his collar back down. Saul took a deep breath as I carefully tugged his tie into place.
“good?” I asked, smoothing it over his chest. Saul nodded.
“perfect.” He breathed. Saul took a deep breath as he looked at himself in the mirror. He threw his hands out and smiled at me in the reflection. “It’s showtime folks.” I giggled as he shot me a goofy look.
“Don’t get held in contempt. You got this Saul. Ain’t no better lawyer out there.” I assured him, flattening his tie against his chest again. “Saul I mean it. Remember that.” He nodded as his hands settled on my waist.
“I will. I love you.” He said, kissing me softly. “I’ll be back for dinner.”
“I love you too.” I whispered as I kissed him again. Saul smiled as he looked himself over in the mirror. He smoothed his hair over and nodded to himself. Saul gave me another kiss before grabbing his briefcase and heading out.
would you ever consider a oneshot followup to heart in the crosshairs?? heart yearning for yandere charlie potential
Hey anon,
The short answer:
The longer answer: I’d like to revisit those two because the universe has so much potential. It’s giving criminal mastermind only soft for his beloved vibes but the problem is that I don’t have any main ideas for the fic.
Years ago, I write a mafia Rafael fic and a sequel for it. My main concern is that I don’t want the plot of the yandere Charlie Reid x Reader fic to be too similar to my yandere Rafael Barba one.
Hi! Saw you did a soft-dom Carlisle Cullen fic, so I was just wondering if you'd be interested in doing a soft-dom gf of Edward Cullen fic, where he is the submissive one? If not I totally understand, just wanted to check <3
Hi anon,
Thank you for your ask. I wouldn’t be against doing a fic like this for Edward but given his canon personality, I would base the reader off of the type of vampires from The Originals.
Just FYI, I’d make the reader Hope’s twin and they’d be at least twenty. I’d change Edward’s canon age too; I’m thinking nineteen to twenty one.
Mainly because Hope would be a badass sister and honestly, the Twilight franchise needs a few more morally grey characters.
warnings/notes: Tenth entry in the widow!jack ficlet series (yes, I am aware that jack would be a widower. no, i do not care). Thanks to @tanely as always. do not ask where this falls in the timeline. i have no idea. yes, that is a Teenwolf reference
wc: 800
Previous Series Masterlist
You and Jack were two hours past the end of your shift with no indication you were any closer to going home. Several patients from a multi-vehicle collision came in just before 0700 and two residents had called out. You felt Jack’s gaze trailing you as you crossed the floor to lean against the counter beside Robby.
He reached over and grabbed a coffee cup from behind the counter and passed it to you. “Had your favorite delivered.”
You grinned and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Mikey. You’re the best.”
Jack frowned. He waited for your attention to shift elsewhere before approaching Robby. “Hey, Mikey—”
“No,” Robby cut him off.
“No what? You don’t even know what I was going to say.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at his friend.
Robby mirrored his position. “No to the name. Don’t call me Mikey.”
“She calls you Mikey,” Jack said gesturing to you as you turned your focus back to the two of them.
The older man glanced between the two of you. “Yes. That’s her. You’re you.”
Jack scowled. “That’s sexist.”
You huffed a laugh. “Baby, that’s not sexist.”
“Well, it’s prejudice of some kind.”
Robby blinked. “Prejudice against you, maybe.”
Jack nodded his head once as if he’d just had something confirmed he’d been suspecting for some time. “I knew it. It’s Jackism.”
“I…Baby, no.”
He turned to fully face you and pointed at you. “It’s Jackist!”
You pressed your lips together as you staved off a laugh or a scream. It was a toss up at this point. “Jack, I need you to never say that again.”
“No. You all think you can be prejudiced against me, and I won’t stand for it. I will call out every incidence of Jackism I see.”
Usually, the ED continued to function without paying much attention to the two of you. This time you were attracting a bit of a crowd. Jack’s vehemence apparently being something they couldn’t overlook.
“That’s it. You’re grounded,” you announced.
Robby nearly spit out a mouthful of coffee. You patted his back as he coughed.
Jack scoffed. “You can’t ground me.”
“Sure, I can. No TV.”
He shrugged. “I’ll read a book.”
“No SWAT.”
“I’ve been thinking of cutting back anyway.”
You leaned forward and dropped your voice to a hiss. “No sex.”
He leaned into your space. “As if you would do that to yourself. Besides, I have two hands.”
Robby groaned. “Brother, you better shut up while you’re ahead.”
You looked from Jack to Robby and back. “Fine. No Robby.”
“No Robby?!” the men said in unison.
“No Robby.” And with that you strode away to see a patient.
“She can’t do that, can she?” Robby asked.
“Don’t talk to me, man. You’re gonna get me in trouble,” Jack said before hurrying away.
You were working on your charting a couple of hours later when Robby approached. Jack edged closer from where he’d been pretending not to pay attention to you.
“Hey, so I know you said no Robby, but Jack was supposed to come over to watch the game tonight. I hate watching alone and you don’t like baseball so could he maybe come over?” Robby asked.
You chuckled under your breath. As if you’d actually ground your husband. As if you needed to.
“You’re only asking her if I can come over because she hates baseball?” Jack huffed. “That’s Jack—”
You snapped around to face him, one brow lifted.
He grumbled under his breath but didn’t finish his sentence.
“Fine. One beer and home straight after the game.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Robby said with a wide smile.
“Anything for you, Mikey.”
Jack stomped off again and you and Robby laughed softly as you watched him go. “He is aware that you would have no way of knowing if he had more than one beer, right?”
“Mike there is something you should know about my husband, he’s a ‘wife guy’ through and through. I don’t have to know anything because he tells on himself. Of course, I don’t care if he watches the game with you but when you asked if he was coming over, he told you he needed permission, didn’t he?”
Robby nodded.
You shrugged. “He’s a grown ass man. I can’t ground him nor would I want to. He does it to himself.”
“Okay,” Robby said, stretching out the word. “So, you won’t be mad when I get him to drink more than one beer tonight?”
You rolled your eyes. “As if I care. But he won’t.”
“Wanna bet?”
The two of you discussed terms and shook on it. When Robby saw you at the next handoff, he handed over your winnings with a shake of his head.
