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[midnight-mourning]

Christmas Spirit

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 12❄️❄️

woof, now we're REAL behind chat, apologies was busy but also like, feeling unwell, but here we are! hope you enjoy :)

Prompt: christmas request! Reader doesn't care for christmas since their relationship with their family isnt great and nearly ever christmas since they moved out included multiple fights or screaming matches; they just want to have a positive association with christmas and don't mind working on a holiday at their crazy but chill job with their favorite animatronic coworkers. And these fellow coworkers intend to make sure this christmas is a postive one even if theres silly mishaps here and there.

Word Count: 2048

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When you realized the date this morning, to say your heart sunk into your chest was an understatement. Sure, maybe it was a bit dramatic to go from chipper and ready for the day, to dragging your feet out the door, but to be fair, this wasn't exactly your favorite time of year. So, you think you had a little bit of a pass. 

Though, as you slam open the door to the Daycare just a tad too harshly, spooking Sun whilst he was mid-decorating, you cringe. Maybe not too much of a pass. 

He shakes it off, however, bounding over to you as happily as ever. "Good morning Sunshine! And how are we today?"

You decide to brush off your mistake. Based on the current state of things, he's very excited about the coming holiday, and you'd hate to ruin that for him. 

"I'm doing well, Sunny. And what about you? The place looks great!" You motion to how already, the Daycare is already well on its way to being totally decorated. It's impressive, to say the least. You left less than 24 hours ago, though he probably has a lot more time on his hands than you. 

He puts a hand to his faceplate, waving the other bashfully. "Oh, we're just getting started! Would you like to help?"

"Ah, I don't want to um, get in your way at all." Not to mention even the idea of touching a decoration makes you want to fling it across the room. Despite how ridiculous a notion that is. You shake your head. "I'll just get stuff set up for the day as usual!"

Sun hesitates a moment, rays shrinking. "Oh, okay then! Well, if you change your mind, just let me know! Always happy to have your touch with these things."

You're too distracted by your own discomfort to acknowledge the compliment. Instead only offering a quick nod and a smile as you march over to the craft station and start preparing. 

You'd hope that would be the end of things, but you weren't so lucky. All throughout the day, both sides of the Attendant seem to be ever curious about your thoughts on different holiday plans they have, asking your opinion on this or that. Whether they realize it or not, you can feel your weariness about the topic growing worse, and paitence wearing thin. 

It was only a matter of time before you cracked, and it happens at probably the worst moment to do so; puppet time. 

Sun decided to put on a Christmas themed show—of course—and had all but insisted for your help. Again, not wanting to cause issues, you agree. However, it's easier said than done. 

"—And we all just enjoy the holidays so much, don't we friend?" Sun asks, ever in character with his hand puppet.

You chuckle, awkward. "We sure do!"

"What's your favorite part of the season?" His little character does a spin on the mini stage. "Mine is making cookies, oh oh! And playing out in the snow, and wrapping presents for my friends!"

For some reason the question—which should have been expected—throws you for a loop. "Oh, well, I don't really have anything in particular. But I'd love to hear more about your favorite activities!"

"Oh come on, everyone has something that's their favorite." He presses, unintentionally pushing your buttons. 

At that moment all you can think about is all the years of arguing, fights, yelling. Family members bickering about things that don't matter, and yet, won't talk to each other for weeks afterward because of some minor slip of the tongue. Feelings of being isolated, alone, and utterly miserable creep in. 

You can't help the words that slip out then. "Well, some of us don't like Christmas very much at all!" You say, voice over the top with fake cheer.

Sun seems to take the hint then and thankfully, recovers the show from there. You're a bit embarrassed to need the save. You didn't think you'd lose your composure over a silly puppet show, but apparently, you were wrong. 

It's when you're packing things up to get ready for naptime that Sun broaches the topic once more.

"You, you don't like Christmas, Starshine?" Sun asks, voice soft. 

You take a deep breath, then shake your head. "I, no, not really. No." You see Sun's rays shrink, and put your puppet-free hand up. "But it's okay! Really don't let me bum you out any. I'm sorry I lost my cool for a moment there. It won't, won't happen again."

Before you can speak on it any further, you turn away, heading to start getting naptime mats out and such. Had you not, you would have seen Sun's hand reaching out for you, concern and care clearly evident on his features. 

After that little incident, neither Attendant talks to you about the holiday in detail again. You still discuss activities as usual, but they don't ask specifics of you anymore. You're relieved, but you do feel bad. You hope to make it up to them by having an easy day of work on Christmas itself. 

Get some organization done, clean up some things that you've been putting off, that kind of thing. Hell, maybe you'll even tolerate some holiday music while you work too. 

When you walk inside bright and early on Christmas morning however, Sun nearly jumps out of his skin upon seeing you. At least, you think he would have if he did have skin, that is. 

"Sunbeam! Wha—what are you doing here today?" He rushes over to you. 

You smile and start taking off your coat. "I work today, Sun. Obviously."

After removing your hat and scarf, you grab your apron, brushing it off once or twice before clapping. "So, I was thinking we tackle the craft closet first and foremost, and then go from there with all our usual stuff, that sound good?"

When he doesn't answer you turn, only to jump when you realize he's right behind you, rays flicking side to side. He takes hold of your shoulders and bends to your level. 

"Starshine."

"Sun." You nod. 

His grip tightens for a moment, then loosens. He narrows his eyes. "We, are not. Working. On. Christmas."

"Well I'm already here—"

He shakes his head, picking you up suddenly. "Nope. Absolutely not. I won't allow it. If you're going to be here then we're going to make this right."

"Hey! Put me down! Where are you even taking me?" You kick your legs in vein, now slightly annoyed. Before you thought he was just joking, but now you realize he's dead serious. 

You get your answer when he sets you down in a bean bag. Taking a moment to snatch up a blanket with one hand and untie your apron with the other. Before you can blink, the blanket is laid across you, you have several Christmas themed stuffed animals surrounding you, there's a set of antlers on your head, along with a coloring book in your lap. 

Sun nods once down at you, hands on his hips. "Now, you get started on that and I'll get you some hot coco. Okay?"

"What, but—"

But he's already off again, "Don't move~ I'll be just a moment!"

Deciding that you're better off to indulge for a little bit, as opposed to outright protesting, you do as he asks. And, while not your favorite thing in the world, sitting and coloring in the peace of the Daycare, holiday music playing softly around you, is nice. 

Sun's gone for longer than you would have expected. Especially for just a cup of premade hot chocolate. But, when he eventually returns you do take the time to thank him for the quick break, that you appreciate the thought, and that you're ready to actually get started for the day. 

Surprisingly—suspiciously—he agrees. 

You won't admit to longing for the warmth of the cozy nest you leave as you stand, but the longing isn't allowed to last for long. Sun's hand is tightly wound with yours as he leads you out of the Daycare and towards the theater. 

You take a sip of your drink, confused but still following. "Um, did you want to start with the theater's supply closet then?"

"Friend, when I said no work on Christmas, I wasn't kidding." He stops just short of the entrance, energy now becoming more antsy. 

He lets go of your hand and you frown. "I told you it's alright, Sunny. I don't mind, honestly."

"I know! We know, but,"—he shakes his head—"We want to, change that. Make it up to you! If, you'll let us?"

He's looking to you now. You're hesitant, of course you are, but you can at least hear him out. "Sure, bud."

"If you don't like it, that's okay too! We just, wanted to try." He turns slightly and starts to open the door.

You open your mouth to respond but are instead taken aback by how pretty the theater looks. There's warm lights strung across the ceiling, decorations of red and green that sparkle. A medium sized tree with decorations laying nearby sits near the middle of the room. Snowflakes in all intricate patterns litter the space. There's a video of a yule log playing on the screen, and music softly twinkles around you. 

While not as intense as the Daycare in terms of the level of Christmas-vibes, there's something more, comforting, about it. Something maybe a bit more familiar, that unlocks a memory you'd left behind back when you were much smaller. 

"When did you find the time for all of this?" You ask quietly. You'd been in here just yesterday and it looked nothing like this. 

Sun comes up behind you, hand on your shoulder. "Just now. We just thought that maybe something a bit more relaxed, but still festive, could be fun for you? We can decorate the tree, or, or watch movies, or dance. Whatever you would like, honestly. Whatever you want." 

"Whatever I want?" You look up to him, almost unable to speak.

He looks down to you and after a pause, wraps his arms around you with a nod. "No one should be sad during the holidays, Star. And it's, it's not our business why but, well, we just want to try and change that for a little bit. To try and make you a little happier."

The tears well up before you can stop them. 

Sun starts panicking. "Oh! Don't cry. It's okay, we can just go back to the Daycare—"

"No, no it's okay, really." You sniff. Your reaches up to his faceplate, halting his fretting. "They're happy tears. I'm very grateful. And emotional."

He relaxes into your touch, but his tone is still concerned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah I,"—you shake your head—"You know what? Let me just show you."

Without thinking further, you raise your other hand and pull his faceplate down to your lips. You release him again after a moment, giggling. 

Sun's rays click, then—"Just to be sure, Moon would also like you to show him."

This causes you to laugh outright, and soon enough you're in the naptime attendant's arms instead. 

You spend the rest of your day in higher spirits than you would have otherwise expected for the holiday. The attendant takes turns doing the various activities they planned with you. And maybe it's only because it's with them, or because of the new relationship you've found yourself in, but you find it all to be so much more bearable than before. More than bearable really, enjoyable. Truly and completely, enjoyable. For the first time in a long time. 

"What are you thinking of, Star?" Moon asks as the two of you dance across the room. 

You shake your head, smiling. "Just about how much I appreciate the two of you, is all."

"Just appreciate?"

You scoff. "I think you know by now it's more than that. Don't even think of trying to scam me out of more kisses."

He snickers in response. 

Just the music for a moment. 

"Thank you, guys. It means a lot."

Moon bends you for a dip, leaning in. "Merry Christmas, Starlight."

"Merry Christmas, Moon."

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Thank you for the request @pip-plz!! Was fun to take this and make something wholesome, esp as someone who hasn't always had a fun holiday experience myself, hope I did it some justice!

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Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

[bitebitekxll]

Sfw ask:

Genshin men with a sick reader headcanons

Diluc, Kaeya, Kazuha, Ayato, can remove or add if you’d like

What they do when you’re sick

៚ Diluc ✧ Kaeya ✧ Kazuha ✧ Ayato ✧ Childe

Notes: FIRST FIC ASK LETS GOOO!! Also happy holidays everyone <3

For a character I am the least sure about characterising, Ayato’s somehow became the longest?? Fingers crossed I did him justice. Also couldn’t resist spreading my malewife Childe agenda so he’s in this too. Hope you enjoy ~

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 ᥫ᭡

Even if Dawn Winery has a whole set staff on hand, he will insist on taking care of you himself; making sure you take your medicine on time, cooking you meals, doing anything he can to ensure your work doesn’t suffer in your absence. The only way to convince him to let Adelinde handle it, is to remind him he can’t hold you if he’s running around. He’s quiet. Not his usual comfortable silence, but one that adds a weighted air to all actions as he stays vigil at your side. Diluc doesn’t like feeling helpless and hates when you’re uncomfortable so you can bet he’ll be extra fussy over you when you’re sick.

(Not to mention vigilant to ensure you don’t get sick in the first place. Going out in the rain? Not without his umbrella you’re not. Venturing into Dragonspine? What a coincidence, he happens to have business there. Yes, really. But, oh it seems they cancelled last minute so now he will of course accompany you. His pyro vision can provide better warmth than whatever few seelies you come across, so it’s only reasonable he tag along.)

You might need to literally thwack him a couple of times to get him to stop being overbearing, but you can guarantee you’ll be taken care of with all your needs attended to.

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 ᥫ᭡

He won’t let you lift a finger the whole time you’re recovering. It doesn’t matter if you only have a bit of a cold, he will physically pick you up over his shoulder and drag you away from work/chores/any responsibility. If someone even dares to suggest you do something while unwell— even if you make it clear you can handle it —he will mercilessly cut them down with that little bastard smile of his playing on his lips.

“You can’t possibly be suggesting our dear Y/N take care of that in this condition. After everything they’ve done for us, no one would be selfish enough to deprive them of some well-earned rest, hm?”

This man will convince the whole of Mond that you need to be spoiled when sick. Good luck doing anything without people rushing to help you with that, no no sit down, you should rest, actually why don’t we just call Sir Kaeya, I’m sure I saw him around—

He does make sure not to annoy you too much with his antics, letting you be independent when it seems like you’re reaching your limit (as long as the task isn’t too taxing) and he’ll be sure to keep you company while you’re stuck at his home.

If you do get bored of being inside he’ll take you out, but don’t expect to set a foot on the ground as long as he’s there.

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀 ᥫ᭡

Though he’s no physician, Kazuha is excellent at dealing with illness and injuries. He had to take care of his own by himself before joining the Crux, after all. And even now, he’s often sought out by the crew during voyages when someone needs medical attention. His calm and reassuring demeanour only further makes him the perfect candidate to be at your bedside.

After doing whatever he can to ease your symptoms, he lets you rest your head in his lap. Expect to be lulled to sleep by nimble fingers carding through your hair, and the sweet whistling tones of a leaf as Kazuha plays it for you— and you still can’t figure out how he manages to do that. He presses kisses to your forehead, your knuckles, your lips: you can remind him that your illness is contagious, but he’ll just smile and kiss you again softly.

��There is no greater honour, nor privilege I can imagine, than sharing the burdens of the one you love. Don’t fret, my dear. Let me hold the weight of all your troubles, and let me hold you, for as long as you will grant me that pleasure.”

𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎 ᥫ᭡

For a man who is so powerful, so composed in public, he is a complete kid with you. He would mope and whine when you tell him you’re not getting out of bed that day. He’s always so bored when you leave him on his lonesome, and even if he can’t be by your side every second he still loves knowing there’s a chance of running into you around the estate or Inazuma itself. So of course he’ll try to goad you into getting up, wanting the two of you to start the day together.

But he changes his tune the moment he realises you’re truly unwell.

Ayato doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in his arms for the duration of your illness. It’s not like Diluc where he insists on doing the work himself, he gets the staff to bring you whatever you need according to the doctor, but only so he can dedicate all his time showering you in love and affection. You get even more attention from him while you’re sick than you usually do (a feat that should be impossible). He’s a clingy bastard and is fully prepared to let the commission suffer until you’re better, unwilling to part for even a moment while you’re in this state. (He’s lucky Ayaka and Thoma keep things running in the meantime, but you can bet he’s in for a scolding from his sister when he returns to his duties).

If you don’t like being touched while sick, he’ll just stay by your side and keep you company. But if you give him the okay? Prepare for him to take advantage of you being stuck in bed to love on you ‘til his heart’s content.

“You know… some say the best way to recover from a cold is to pass it to someone else…”

By the time you’re feeling better, the idiot’s gotten himself sick. You can lecture him about being careless all you want, he just gives you a pleased grin as he looks up at you adoringly. Naturally, he never learns his lesson.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 ᥫ᭡

Will immediately panic when he sees you’re in bad shape. He’s equal parts alarmed and enraged, ready to seek vengeance on your behalf. Once he realises you’re just sick and not recovering from an attack, he’s more in his element. As a Snezhnayan, Childe is no stranger to illness. Young children, especially, are less tolerant to the cold, so he’s had plenty of experience looking after his younger siblings in that regard. He extends the same care to you: keeping a cooled wet towel on your forehead to settle your fever, cleaning your home with a frenzied determination, never allowing dust to settle and irritate your lungs.

Don’t even bother trying to eat yourself, he will feed you while you recline back on the mountain of pillows he fluffed up minutes prior. He makes the warm soup himself, but instead of the usual seafood concoctions he’s known for, it’s a much simpler, pleasant dish.

“My mother’s cure-all recipe; there’s nothing better for when you’re sick! The kids love it. In fact, Teucer’s even faked sick before just so she would make it for him, the little rascal. Try a bite, I promise you’ll be fighting fit in no time!”

Big malewife energy the whole time he’s taking care of you. He’s concerned about your health, of course, but because he’s done this before for his family he doesn’t feel panicked. Instead, he’s all warm smiles and attentive affection, making jokes to cheer you up while he keeps an eye on your condition. If you need anything from him, anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.

[waerwena]

so, i miss vander so much i decided to write something to let it out/// i usually dont write so sorry if there're any mistakes///

this is just a little sketch about if reader (you) meet vander once again in an alternative universe///

vanderxfem!reader song by Mako & Grey – What Have They Done to Us (I love it I love it I love it, it soo perfect for this, it so matches the characters, I cry every time I hear it)

"as you wake up in a cold sweat"

It was dark all around, too dark. The body wouldn’t obey, and the mind kept shutting down; it felt as if consciousness was floating somewhere in weightlessness, far, far away from you. Then there was a voice calling you by name. “Professor?” A sudden flash of bright colors rushed before your eyes, and the darkness around you began to gradually dissipate. You were lying on the ground, and the professor, with a worried expression, leaned over you; for a moment, it seemed like he was smiling. Your mind was still resisting, and the bright light began to make you feel nauseous.

My dear, you scared me a bit when you passed out; I was already thinking about running for help. And I did warn you that lifting such heavy things all at once is not advisable and...

You tried to sit up. "Professor... what... where are we?" The professor, too engrossed in his chatter, turned and looked at you intently. "Where are we...?" he echoed, "what... oh!" Suddenly, realization dawned on him. "My dear, you’re back! After we were consumed by Hexgate I was just waiting for you both to appear here." You grabbed your forehead in a sudden bout of pain. The professor's words once again dissolved in a whirlwind of colorful spots and dots. "Ekko still hasn’t woken up yet," you heard him say, "but I think he will be soon..."

You couldn't remember anything after you descended to the gates, only a bright flash and then darkness.

"You know," the professor continued, "I think we should go back. He will be worried."

"He? Ekko?" You rubbed your forehead with your palm; the pain began to subside, and your senses started to return to you.

"little girl what goes on in your head"

In the distance, you could hear muffled children's laughter, the clinking of bottles, and the hissing of air. You looked around; you were in an alley of The Undercity, but it felt like something had changed. Nearby, there were boxes scattered with shards of glass. Apparently, when you felt unwell, you had dropped them from your hands. The professor approached and placed a hand on your shoulder, as if he were gathering his thoughts to say something. His gaze reminded you of that day when you were told that Vander had died, and the professor had carefully chosen his words to comfort you. As if words could heal a broken heart.

"all this hatred in your heart, yet i mourn the most for all the things that i never said"

“We really need to go back,” he finally said after a long silence that was unusual for him. 

“Back where?” You were still struggling to perceive your surroundings, but it was undoubtedly one of the alleys in the Undercity. The professor approached a side door of the building you were near and, after a brief hesitation, opened it and gestured inside: “Back to the bar.” 

"Bar???” There was only one bar in the Zaun – “The Last Drop,” but after Vander’s death, it had become more like a tomb, filled not with ghosts but with memories. After a bit of effort, you got to your feet and leaned against the doorframe. You could hear laughter and music coming from inside. You were surprised; it seemed crowded in there, which felt so strange to you. You looked at the professor, but he just smirked conspiratorially and soon disappeared down the corridor. You sighed and followed him, trying not to trip in the dim light among the numerous boxes. Reaching the door to the main hall, you reached for the handle, but suddenly the door swung open, nearly hitting you in the face. 

“Oh, sorry, I thought no one was here. But, by the way, since I found you, I want to ask you something.” In the doorway stood a girl with blue hair; she reminded you of Vi when you last saw her. “Powder. Jinx?” 

“What?” The words slipped from your lips as you stared at each other. The blue-haired girl beamed at you with a wide smile: “You have to help me sew a dress to wear for the contest! Just imagine, when we take first place, I have to look awesome!” 

You were still processing her words as if they were in another language: “A-a dress…?” “Why is she here? Didn’t Silco take her? Isn’t she a criminal now?” Powder leaned against the door and crossed her arms over her chest: “What’s wrong with you? Did you hit your head? Remember, Vander brought a bunch of fabric from somewhere and told us to ‘have fun’ and…” 

You weren’t listening to her anymore; at the sound of his name, everything around you began to plunge back into darkness, your heart seemed to leap to your throat, cutting off your breath. “Vander. Did she say Vander?”

"dont make me go through this again"

You looked over Powder's shoulder. The spacious hall was filled with people; they were laughing, drinking, and some were swaying to the music. Streams of light poured through the glass ceiling, creating whimsical patterns of light among the crowd. Your heart was pounding so fast that it felt like it would break through your ribcage and then shatter into tiny pieces. “Sorry,” you whispered to Powder, gently pushing her aside. Your gaze darted around the hall, as if searching for something, and then you turned it toward the bar. There were quite a few people around it too, and at one point, the thought that he might be there seemed absurd. “He’s dead.” At those words, old pain surged like a wave, piercing through you, and your insides clenched from an invisible blow. “He’s gone.”

You pushed your way to the bar, nearly elbowing patrons in the stomachs. The last person you bumped into on your way to your goal was Benzo, who was peacefully sipping a drink. 

“Hey, what’s the rush?” he grunted, and you froze in confusion. “Benzo killed the monster Silco.” 

“I…” you managed to squeeze out, “sorry, I… I…” You no longer looked at him; your gaze was fixed on the man standing with his back to everyone, polishing a glass. “No, no, no… what?” Your thoughts tangled, the ground seemed to disappear beneath your feet. “This is some kind of joke. It can’t be him.”

"you’re not real and i can’t pretend"

“Hey, Vander, something’s going on with your girl” Benzo coughed and buried his face in his glass, taking a noisy gulp.  The man behind the bar turned around, giving you a warm smile.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? " His voice was deep, warm, and soothing, and you suddenly realized how much you had missed him. The pain again pierced sharply somewhere in your chest, and you felt tears streaming down your cheeks. The man's expression immediately turned worried. "Dear, what happened? " Still gasping from tears, you went around the bar and clung to the stunned man with both hands. Burying your face in his broad chest, you whispered: "Vander!" He hugged you in return; his large hands enveloped you completely. "Whoa, what’s going on? You heard his laughter rumble inside him, "We saw each other just five minutes ago, not that I’m complaining…" You lifted your head and looked into his eyes, still not believing that it was really him. He cupped your chin with his fingers, pulling you closer to his face and leaving a gentle kiss on your lips. "I can close up early today if you want." He ran his thumb across your cheek, his eyes watching you closely. You shook your head, still pressing against him with your whole body. "It's okay, I wouldn't mind watching you work. Just don't go." Vander looked at you confused. "I wasn't planning to." You let out a quiet sob. "I know, but..." You fell silent as the man brushed a strand of hair from your forehead. "You know I would never leave you. You, Powder, and the boys. Never." You smiled sadly; you didn't want to let him go right now. You don’t know where the Hexgate sent you but you were happy to see him again. Alive.

"I miss you so much, Vander, if only you knew."

[avocadorablepirate]

Beneath The Surface - 1

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: When memories, buried deep within your sea of emotions, resurface, you’re left to question what lies beneath the surface. Did he truly mean to leave you behind, or was there something more to his silence than you ever understood?

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death, OP spoilers

previous | next

So I haven’t properly proofread this chapter…been a bit sick this past week, but I was determined to post this part today. It’s not terrible though 🤔…I think.

You had locked yourself up in your room, claiming to be unwell. The truth was simpler: your mind had been consumed by memories you thought you had buried. Memories of him. The boy who once soothed your pain had become the man responsible for it.

He left me behind.

That thought replayed in your head, each repetition sinking deeper into your chest. Just the image of his face brought a sickening churn of emotions — hurt, betrayal, anger, and a flicker of something you refused to name.

The soft knock on your door is what finally drew your attention away from your thoughts. On the other side of the door stood Viola, a small but gentle smile on her face when she found you sprawled on your bed.

“I heard you were feeling sick, everything okay?” she asked, as she made her way further into your bedroom.

“Yeah, nothing a good day’s rest won’t cure,” you responded, and her lips immediately contorted into a frown.

“Then you’re not going to be too happy about this.” Her voice softened, tinged with regret. “Doflamingo needs you.”

You sighed, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Of course he needs me. You didn’t know why you ever thought you’d be able to get a day to yourself, it had rarely occurred before.

“Of course he does,” you muttered under your breath, setting aside the book you had been pretending to read.

Viola gave you a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. If it were up to me, I'd let you rest."

You forced a smile, appreciating her kindness. "It's okay. Thanks, Viola."

She nodded, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving the room. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for whatever Doflamingo had in store.

The walk to his room felt long and unpleasant as always. The entire palace always made you uncomfortable, its grandeur a stark contrast to the simpler, slightly happier times of your childhood. It was also a reminder of the life you once lived along side your parents, and without him to console you over those memories, it only brought more pain.

But it hadn’t always been like this. You remember when you first moved in, though a palace, it had a comforting and almost cozy feel to it. However, Doflamingo had made drastic changes, his reason being that the Donquixote family should live in a place that befitted them.

You had tried to get him to let you live outside the palace, the discomfort it brought had been too much at first. But Doflamingo insisted that the entire Donquixote family stay within the palace walls. And that’s why you had tried to make your own room as comfortable as possible. However, that had done little to help. With how often Doflamingo made you run around doing errands for him, or insisted that he watch over you, there was barely any time to relax.

As you gave a soft knock against the heavy wooden doors, to let Doflamingo know you had arrived, you pushed it open to find him standing by the window, his back turned to you as you entered.

“You summoned me, Doffy?" you called out, as you slowly made your way towards him, the atmosphere of the room always making you feel uneasy. It was as if the room itself embodied his very being - intimidating and frightening.

He turned on hearing your voice, a smile plastered on his face. "Ah, my little Rose there you are. Feeling better, I hope?"

You nodded, knowing the question was nothing more than a pleasantry. "What do you need?"

His smile widened, and an eerie chill ran down your spine. "I have a special task for you. I need you to retrieve someone for me."

You frowned, confused by his unforeseen happiness. You had heard there was an incident at Punk Hazard, and although you didn’t know the details, you knew Doflamingo had been beyond enraged. It was another reason why you had chosen to stay in your room, to avoid his temper. So, his uncharacteristic cheerfulness almost baffled you.

“Who?” you questioned, although you had an inkling of who it might be.

“Caesar,” he said simply, his tone light but his eyes watching your reaction closely. “I’m sure you’ve heard, there’s been some...issues. I want you to bring him back from Greenbit."

A wave of confusion hit you once again. “Why me?”

It wasn’t like him to send you on retrieval missions. While you had been privy to fights and conflicts, you had never been a fan of them, and Doflamingo knew this. It was why you mainly ran around doing tasks within the palace. He had called it “protection,” but you had always suspected he thought you too soft-hearted for the darker work.

It had happened before, when you were younger and out on a mission. He had nearly lost you then, and he wouldn’t have it happen again.

“I’ve decided you need to be involved in these matters as well. You can’t be the only one who doesn’t get involved, it’s not fair to you. ” A cold knot of dread formed in your stomach when you saw Doflamingo's eyes glint dangerously. You had thought that you would be able to stay away from such tasks given your temperament, but that had clearly changed.

“But why now?” you asked, and you could feel your heart rate pick up when Doflamingo gave you an almost sinister smile.

“We’re short on people. The pirates who attacked Punk Hazard killed Monet, so we need as much backup as we can get. Plus, the others think you need to start doing your bit,” he said, almost nonchalantly, as if the death of one of his comrades didn’t bother him at all. But you brushed it off, subconsciously convincing yourself it was his way of dealing with grief. “And I think this would be the perfect opportunity to test you Rosie.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the task ahead. You had always known that the latest additions to the Donquixote family, all but Viola, did not like the almost favouritism that Doflamingo showed - always tasking you with the simpler jobs. This was your chance to prove your worth, and finally get them off your case. Besides, what harm would come from a simple retrieval mission?

"Alright, Doffy. I’ll bring Caesar back."

He smiled, a satisfied gleam in his eyes, almost akin to a predator satisfied with its prey. "Good. And remember, I expect nothing less than success."

As you stepped out into the hall, your resolve wavered slightly, the enormity of the task ahead settling in.

So caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t notice that someone had walked by you into the room. The shutting of the door is what finally drew you out of your thoughts and you briefly glanced back, the voices within the room, a stark reminder of the life you had chosen.

You shook off the unease and focused on the task at hand. Whatever doubts you had, you pushed them aside. There was no room for weakness. You had a mission to complete, and you would do it with all the strength you could muster. For the town you now called home and the people you called family.

As you walked away, the voices in the room grew distant, and you missed out on listening in on a conversation that would have likely saved you from your impending misfortune.

“Doffy why are you sending her to retrieve Caesar?”

Despite his recent misfortune, another sinister smile spread across Doflamingo’s face. “It’s about time I test her abilities. And who better than Law to be the test subject?”

—————

Part 1 done! I feel like I may have included some unnecessary bits here and there, but oh well. I hope you liked it. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist.

taglist: @riftmage27

[fairyroses]

— SMALLVILLE, "Lexmas" (5.09)

[joes-sha-la-la-la-girl]

Look at them 🥹🥹💖

[druizard]

I am living for all of the thirsty tags you guys add when you reblog my shit. Absolutely unhinged. Never change, friends.

[awakenthebeing]

Splotches did a little whoops.

Hehe small Piepoe and he's probably the same size as her Toppins.

Splotches will fix her mistake heheh

Soo sorry for responding so late to this!!! I really wanted to doodle a little reply to this adorable little concept.... 🙏🙏🥺🥺💘💘💓💖💓‼️

[cannibalismyuri]

(song added by me)

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Me, You, and Baby, Too

Summary: You and Joel have always wanted kids, but didn't want to rush into having them until you both were ready. After a surprise at his job, Joel realizes there's nothing more he wants to do than put a baby in you as soon as he gets home.

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (it's baby making time, so hush), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big ole fat and nasty breeding kink (.... don't look at me it's bad), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Joel "Daddy" (in the sense you want to have his babies, but also 🤷🏼‍♀️), Sweet soft Joel who loves his wife and would give her the universe if he could, honestly with just the way Joel is talking about makin' babies, I think I'm pregnant

A/N: It's that time of the month where Madeline ovulates and writes feral breeding kink smut!!! 🤪 Okay I am so nervous to post this because I have never written for Joel before and I'm worried it's trash with a capital T, but after re-watching TLOU, I need 2003 Joel Miller carnally, so here we are. This is also inspired by @mrsmando post about 2003 Joel Miller constantly keeping you barefoot and pregnant because it made me unwell, and no lies were told. (thanks for ruining my life mimi) 🤠 ANYWHO I hope you guys like it, and if not, I'll shut up and go back to writing Javi and Frankie and pretend like this didn't happen

There were a lot of stereotypical answers that you expected from your husband when you asked him how his day at work had been:  

“Good.” 

“Fine.” 

“Long.” 

“My knees are killin’ me.” 

“Tommy did somethin’ fuckin’ stupid again.” 

“Better now that I’m home with you.” 

So when Joel arrived home today after a new job he had started with Tommy on a bathroom renovation, there were few things that could have prepared you for the response your husband had when you asked him how his day had gone. 

“Hey, honey. How was your day today?” You smiled, watching Joel stroll in through your front door, kicking off his work boots at the entryway, beginning to put away his things before strolling into the kitchen to greet you. 

“Pretty good." He paused, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way over to the closet before speaking again. "Saw a real cute baby today.” 

You could practically feel your heart skip a beat as you looked up from the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner, tightening the grip you had around your knife to make sure you didn’t drop it in shock. 

Out of all the things for Joel to bring up on the first day at a new job, a cute baby had been at the top of the list.

Not floor plans. 

Not timelines for the project.

Not something stupid that Tommy did. 

Not even what he had done today on the job. 

The top news that Joel Miller had to report back to you about his day was the sighting of a cute baby. 

You and Joel had always agreed that you’d wanted kids, and your husband had been not only adamant, but genuinely excited at the prospect of becoming a dad. But only being a little less than a year into your marriage, the two of you had decided you didn’t want to rush into anything, and when the time felt right, you’d both know it. 

But one by one, as your friends began to announce their pregnancies, baby showers, and pictures of their adorable newborns, you couldn’t help but deny the baby fever starting to burn hotter and hotter inside you with every passing day. 

You’d brought it up in passing a few times with Joel, talking about your friends who had kids, or a cute mom and her children you saw walking around in your neighborhood, and while he had always had a positive response to what you had to say, you just had a feeling that now just wasn’t the time for the two of you yet, and that was okay.  

But here you were, standing in your kitchen, jaw practically scraping the ground at the notion that your husband had dropped just about the least subtle hint ever that babies weren’t just at the forefront of your mind- they were on his, too. 

“Awh, really?” You asked, shaking your head to snap out of your shocked state, returning back to dice the onion you had been working on before Joel could turn around to see you after finishing hanging up his things in the closet, trying to subtly coax more information out of him. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, joining you in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his chest for a soft kiss to greet you, “The family we’re startin’ the bathroom reno for just moved in. Had their first baby a few months ago and just hadn’t had time to work on fixin’ things.” 

“So they’re already putting the baby to work with you and Tommy?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at Joel playfully, giving him a quick peck back on the lips as he laughed at your sass. 

“Cheap labor.” Joel shrugged back, playing into the joke, “Nah, she woke up from her nap while Tommy and I were runnin’ through some measurements so her mom brought her out for the last lil bit we were there. She was damn cute, too. Just smilin’ and laughin’ at everything.” 

You were glad Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your hip, because you were convinced if it wasn’t, you were about to melt to the floor into a puddle, watching how soft and sweet Joel was talking about a cute, smiling baby. 

“Well a cute baby definitely sounds like a very nice perk of being on the job.” You smirked, trying to play it cool enough to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. 

“Yeah.” Joel replied softly, quietly pausing for a moment, watching the gears turning in his brain, carefully calculating his words before he spoke. 

“You okay?” You asked, looking up at Joel, knowing your husband well enough that he had something on his mind he was trying to work up the confidence to spit out. 

Joel looked back down at you, big brown eyes locking with yours as his grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, tongue swiping against his plush bottom lip as he took a long, deep breath in and slow exhale out.  

“Honey, what is it?” You asked again, now slightly concerned with how nervous your husband looked in his stoic silence, reaching up to gently wrap your fingers around his arm, thumb stroking his skin. 

“I want one.” 

You froze, worried that your heart may have actually stopped as you looked at Joel, making sure that you had really just heard what he had said. 

“W-what?” 

“I want one. A baby. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and seein’ that baby today, it just- shit, I just couldn’t stop picturin’ what it would be like to have one of our own I guess.” 

If you weren’t a puddle before, you sure as fuck were now.  

An overwhelming sensation of nerves and excitement began thrumming through your veins, your heart beat pounding in your ears as your face grew warm and a smile started to spread between your cheeks. You were almost certain you had to be dreaming, asking again to make sure that someone needed to come and wake you up and send you back to reality. 

“Joel… Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Nothin’ I want more. I know I ain’t gonna even be close to the perfect dad, but I know you’ll be sucha good mom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want some tiny lil versions of us runnin’ around. Couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than that. Like I said, I know that we ain’t talked about in a while, and if ya aren’t ready yet that’s okay but I-” 

Before Joel could even finish the rest of his thought, you were pressing up to plant your lips to his with passionate intensity, hands roaming up his chest before cupping his jaw and the scratchy stubble of his cheeks while your stomach flipped with arousal and want, already feeling a damp patch beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear. 

You pulled away, kisses traveling along his jawline and up his neck until you were nipping at his ear, the hot breath of your words whispering against his skin. 

“You wanna make a baby, Joel Miller?” 

“Fuck-” Joel groaned, reaching his other arm around you grab at your ass, pulling you in tight enough to feel the bulge beginning to grow under the denim of his worn jeans, pressing against your thigh.

“‘Cause there’s nothing that I want more than to make you a daddy.” You smirked, looking up to watch Joel’s eyes darken with lust, jaw going slack as a low groan rumbled in his chest, his once half hard cock now fully erect and straining against his zipper, trying to keep from giggling watching your husband try to string together any sort of thoughts to speak. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” He moaned, running his hand over his face to try and regain his composure to keep from busting right then and there. “You- fuck, you sure, baby?” 

“Mhmmmm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my whole life. So sure,” you paused, softly pressing your lips to his between words, “that I think we should go make one right now.” 

Your adamant confirmation was all it took to set off something almost animalistic in Joel, crashing his lips back into yours in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, gripping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up around his hips and lock your legs behind the small of his back. Without ever letting your mouths part, Joel was already halfway to the bedroom before you had even realized it, playfully giggling at how frantically he was carrying you down the hallway, your bodies bumping against the walls and door frames, too focused on desperate and needy kisses for any sort of spatial awareness. 

Finally reaching your bed, Joel carefully laid you down, letting your back fall into the mattress, leaving your lower half to hang off the edge before your husband was on his knees, settling himself between your parted thighs. 

You sat up on your elbows, watching as Joel tightened his grip around the meat of your legs, peppering kisses up the inside of each across your soft skin before coming face to face with your core, planting another soft kiss there before letting his fingers ghost over your heat, still covered by your jeans. 

He rapidly worked at the button of your pants, shuffling them down off your hips to reveal your underwear, now absolutely soaked with arousal from the prospect alone of Joel knocking you up and carrying his baby. 

“Jesus Christ, baby girl, look at ‘cha.” Joel tutted, admiring how the cotton of your underwear clung to the outline of your cunt, sticking to the puffy and swollen lips of your pussy from how wet you were. “Haven’t even touched ya yet. This all for me, darlin’?” 

Just as you began to try and answer, Joel took one of his fingers, barely dragging it over the damp fabric before beginning to rub soft circles over your covered clit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you at the electric sensation.  

“F-fuck- It’s all for you, b-baby.” You stammered, moaning even louder as a second finger joined the first, pressing more pressure into you sensitive nub as he nudged each of your legs to drape over his shoulders, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your underwear, making you instinctually lift your hips as he yanked them off your legs to crumple in a messy pile with your pants. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” Joel mewled, running his fingers up and down through the weeping seams of your folds, toying with your entrance while draping his arm across your hips to hold your squirming lower half in place. “Wants me to fuck her full of me and fill her up so bad, huh?” 

“P-please, Joel. Want you to fill me up so badly.” You whimpered, staring down at your husband, a devilish grin spread across his face, licking his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between your blissed out face and the glistening mess between your thighs. 

“I will sweetheart, promise. Gotta taste you first though, baby. Gotta make sure you’re nice n’ready for me. ‘Cause once we start, I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till I knock you up.” 

With that, Joel was diving between your legs, lapping you up in long and firm strokes, pressing against your clit in the way he knew would make you fall apart under his tongue. While he would have loved to have spend hours just like this, making you writhe under his touch, drinking up your arousal like a wandering man parched in the heat of the desert, Joel had one thing on his mind, and one thing only- 

To get you pregnant.   

Joel began to intensify the pace of his tongue, swirling and sucking around your clit as two of his thick fingers pushed into your heat, sliding in and out of your entrance with ease from how wet and worked up you were. Curling his fingers ever so slightly, you cried out as Joel bumped against your g-spot, pushing against the soft, spongy spot as his tongue worked its magic. 

You could feel the arousal shooting through your veins, heat beginning to bloom in your stomach as Joel fucked you with his fingers and mouth, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his thick, brown hair to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. 

“J-Joel, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, I’m c-close. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You whined, pussy beginning to flutter around Joel’s fingers, the tightening only egging him on further to get you to cross the finish line. 

With just a little more pressure of his tongue, Joel could feel your cunt clamping down around his digits, watching the pleasure shoot through your body as you came, your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami. 

As you reached your high, Joel drank up your arousal, not faltering in his pace, too focused on your pretty cries of his name being chanted like a prayer to do anything but keep going and making you feel good. 

Truth be told, Joel had gotten so lost between your thighs, the only thing stopping him was the tensing feeling between his, so pussy drunk and determined to fuck you full of him that he was worried he was about to cum too if he didn’t stop. 

Pulling off you, Joel frantically stood up, racing to undo his belt and jeans, yanking them down his legs in tandem with his boxers as his cock slapped against his stomach, precum already pearling from his tip, desperate to be inside of you. His shirt quickly followed his pants, ripping it over his head as his broad body caged yours under him, helping you to scoot back on the bed until your head hit the pillows, trailing kisses up and down your body the whole way. 

As Joel kissed and nipped at your skin, you quickly shuffled off your top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him, moaning as his tongue flicked against each of your newly exposed pebbled nipples, grouping your breast and kneading the soft flesh in his palms. 

Even though you had just came, you could already feel your cunt starting to clench around nothing, desperate to feel Joel inside of you, to stretch you out with his thick cock and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. But with the way your chest was heaving and breath shaking from your orgasm, you could barely muster out the words you wanted. 

“J-Joel, p-please, baby. P-please.” 

You snaked your hand between your bodies to reach for Joel’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you stroked him, trying to guide him to slide between your legs and ease your ache. 

Lowering his hips, you moved your hand and let his replace it, Joel pumping himself a few times before guiding his tip between your folds, collecting your slick to coat his cock, using every last ounce of self-control he had as his eyes locked with yours, wanting to see your face as he pushed inside you. 

“Please, what, darlin’?” Joel teased, knowing damn well what you were begging for. 

“Need to feel you, Joel. Need you to put a baby in me.” You moaned, reaching up to grab his face, your palm rubbing against his stubble as your fingers tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck. 

With one more pump, Joel lined himself up with your entrance, sliding into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting of his length making the breath hitch in the back of your throat, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you with his tip just kissing your cervix. 

Joel couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your mouth fall open, parted lips letting a soft moan escape while your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the newfound sensation, giving you another moment to adjust before he began to slowly roll his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your core. 

“Christ, baby girl, so wet and tight. Like this pussy was made just for me. Made for me to fuck ya full of me until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take.” Joel groaned, reaching down to grab your thighs, pinning your knees to your chest, stretching you open to take Joel even deeper, practically feeling him in your stomach with the position he had you in. 

“Joel, oh my god- fuck, you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Want you to fill me up so bad.” You whimpered, Joel now beginning to pick up his pace as he thrust in and out of you, continually punching in that perfect spot over and over again, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting. 

Joel’s fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs down just far enough to be chest to chest with you, the sweat dampened curls of his forehead brushing against yours as your mouths met in an electric kiss, catching each other’s muffled moans with each snap of Joel’s hips. 

“Yeah, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see what a pretty momma you are, carryin’ our kid?” Joel grunted, picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your baby, wondering how many you’d let him give you, because fuck, he’d keep knocking you up until he had nothing left to give. 

Each push and pull of your bodies against each other felt more and more electric, an undeniable coil tightening in your stomach with the way Joel was pounding into you and the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, already feeling yourself beginning to teeter on the brink of pleasure once again. 

“Yes, fuck, fuck- yes, Joel. I wanna have your baby. Want you to knock me up so I can make you a daddy. Please, baby, please.” You were all but sobbing at this point, your fingers digging into the tan and sweat sheened skin of Joel’s broad shoulders, overwhelmed by the lewd combinations of Joel’s heavy pants in your ear and wet squelching of your pussy as his pelvis flushed against yours repeatedly. 

Joel could feel you beginning to tighten around him, pussy sucking him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to clamp around his cock and milk him for all he was worth. 

“That’s it, darlin’, I know you’re close. Gotta cum for me first though, baby girl. Gotta feel ya soak me before I stuff ya so full of me, I swear t’god, you’ll be drippin’ outta me for days. So fuckin’ full that I’ll get you pregnant right now.” Joel groaned through gritted teeth, leaning back to reach and grab your leg, wrapping it around the small of his back before you lifted your other to join it, locking your ankles to keep him as close to you as possible. 

“Joel, oh my god, fuck baby, fuck, I’m gonna- fuckfuckfuck-” 

Suddenly, your orgasm was rushing through every inch of you, crying out as the pleasure hit you like a freight train, choking Joel’s cock with your pussy, unable to do anything but relish in the white hot bliss that had you nearly floating out of your own body. 

While Joel would have kept fucking you until the sun went down, the truth was he was relieved to feel you cum, spending every second since your agreement in the kitchen trying to keep from finishing until he was balls deep inside you and you were soaking his cock as you reached your high. The realization that now was his chance to make good on his promise, to fill you up and fuck a baby into you, ignited something primal, feral, in him, pounding into you at a punishing pace as he could feel himself teetering on the brink of collapse right with you. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Shit, I’m gonna cum too, fuck- gonna fill this tight lil pussy up so goddamn much, give you a baby, make you a momma, oh fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Joel let out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milked himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his spend, making sure nothing went to waste. 

He couldn’t help but but press even further into you, plugging you with his length and fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it took, collapsing on top of you with his cock still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both caught your breath. 

Joel was convinced he had never cum so much in his entire life, afraid that if he pulled out, that somehow he’d have more left to give, and sure as fuck wasn’t going to risk letting anything coming out of him end up not inside of you. 

Well, not until your muffled grunt rumbled beneath him. 

 “Joel, baby, I love you but you’re kinda squishing me.” You huffed, giggling to yourself as you watched your husband come-to in real time out of his post-orgasmic state, immediately offering a half muttered apology as he rolled off you, sitting back on his knees to admire the shiny and slick mess between your legs. 

“Fuck me…” Joel murmured to himself, eyes wide as he stared at your pussy- wet, puffy and soaking with your arousal, bringing his fingers to your spent hole as he watched a dribble of his cum begin to leak out. Gently scooping it up, he collected everything he could, pressing it back into your cunt before pulling his hand out. Crawling up the bed to lay next to you, Joel wrapped you up in his arms as the little spoon, peppering ticklish kisses over your back and shoulders, making you burst into laughter. 

“Joel, stop! That tickles!” You squealed, squirming in his grasp, trying to defend yourself from his unrelenting attack of soft, plush lips and scratchy beard dancing across your skin. 

“Don’t laugh so damn hard, or all my hard work’s ‘bout to come out!” Joel teased, giving you a playful nudge, pulling you in even closer. 

“Stop making me laugh, then! Plus, I think you came enough to put quadruplets inside of me, so I think we’ll be okay.” You snorted, Joel joining in on the laughter. 

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard in my whole goddamn life.” Joel sighed, shrugging as you rolled your head up to look at him and that stupid goofy grin he got whenever he couldn’t contain his excitement about something. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Joel.” 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Joel slowly bringing his arm to rest across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing careful circles on your skin. 

“You’re gonna make such a good mom. I’m the luckiest man alive that you wanna have a family with me. Still not really sure what I ever did to deserve it.” 

“Joel! You’re gonna make me cry! And this is before pregnancy hormones, ya jerk.” You tried to laugh, choking back the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Yeah, what a jerk, your husband tellin’ you how much he loves you.” He teased back, planting a long kiss on your temple, before pressing another one to your lips. Another wave of soft silence followed, watching Joel’s face scrunch in a calculated concentration. “How big of a crib you think I gotta make? I don’t know ‘bout a rockin’ chair, but a crib can’t be that hard. I gotta measure the guest room tomorrow.” 

“Honey, I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet, you don’t need to have a crib built tomorrow.” You teased, laughing at Joel, despite the fact his mind was already thinking about a baby room and accessories had you melting. 

“Sweetheart, what did I say earlier? I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till we know there’s a baby in there.” He smirked, nodding at his hand still splayed across your stomach, “So you better get comfortable, ‘cause if it’s up to me, there ain’t a chance in hell we’re gettin’ anything but a positive pregnancy test at the end of this month, and we'll sure need that crib nine months from now. Never hurts to get a head start."

Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[sluttysnowangel666]

His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)

summary: two years following the death of cregan’s first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryen’s daughter. rhaenyra’s daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts cregan’s first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.

cw: mean cregan😓, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyra’s daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending

do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( i’m unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts… oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love ❤️

“How do you feel, my love?” Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.

You sighed. “Nervous.”

She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. “I know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.”

“I know, mother.” You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Had it been any other lord I would have surely declined but… Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.”

You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.

It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.

Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.

You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.

You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.

You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.

“My princess.” You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. “Winterfell is yours.”

You bow in return, “No need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.”

He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.

“Please show the princess to her chambers.” He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.

You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.

You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.

Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.

When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.

You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.

There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didn’t bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.

It was here you met Cregan’s son, Rickon.

“Hi, little one.” You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.

“Rickon, this is my new wife.” Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didn’t even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his father’s leg.

“I apologize.” Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.

“It is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.” You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.

“Excuse me, princess.” He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.

You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didn’t care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.

You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.

Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve put Rickon down… Would you please accompany me to my chambers?”

You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.

“Is it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?” The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.

“No!” Cregan nearly barked the order. “There will be no bedding ceremony.”

The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.

“Princess.” Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.

You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.

He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.

Did he share these chambers with her?

Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you weren’t, he didn’t care.

“Um, could you help, my lord?” You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.

He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.

His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.

He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.

You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadn’t moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.

He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.

He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.

“Is this alright with you, princess?” He asks. “We need not consummate this if you are not ready.”

For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.

You nodded, “Is it alright with you, Lord Stark?”

He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.

He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.

“Oh, gods.” You mumbled under your breath.

He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.

He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.

Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.

You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.

“Please, please.” You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.

“What?” He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.

He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.

You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didn’t stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.

Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.

He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.

He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.

You said nothing, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.

———

It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.

You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didn’t hover.

“Mummy!”

“Sh, sh, love.” You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.

Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. He’d gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.

“Mummy.” He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, “Nooo. Not mummy.”

“Mummy.” He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.

“What ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?”

“He is not your son.” You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. “And his hair is fine.”

“Apologies, my lord.” You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.

“Come, Rickon.” He said, beckoning his son.

“No, mummy.” Rickon whined, holding you.

“Go see papa.” You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.

Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.

You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.

You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.

You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.

That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You looked in the mirror and saw Cregan’s half sister, Sara, enter.

“Hi, Sara.” You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.

“I heard what happened today.” She said, and you hummed mindlessly. “My brother can be a bastard.”

You smiled at her in the mirror. “Is that so?”

She nods. “I wish I knew what to do, Sara.”

“We northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brother’s heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I don’t know why.”

“Was Aly pretty?” You ask.

“You have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.” She kisses the back of your head. “Throw a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.”

You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.

You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldn’t care anyway.

A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Sara’s name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.

You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.

“My princess.” A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. “Rickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.”

You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadn’t expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his “mother.”

You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.

“Mummy.” He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.

“I thought he requested me by my name.” You said.

“That is your name, princess… to him.” The maid closed the door.

You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. “You know papa doesn’t like that word.”

“Mummy.” He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.

“Say it okay.” He says.

“Hm? What do you mean, child?” You ask.

“She say it okay to call you mummy.”

“Who?”

“Mummy did.”

“No, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.”

“Not you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.”

“You confuse me, Rickon.”

“Mummy says ignore papa.” You chuckle softly.

“Sleep now, my love.” You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.

You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.

You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.

You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.

“Gods, you scared me!” You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.

You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.

“I heard you sing to him.” He says softly. “Where did you learn that song?”

“He taught me it.” You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.

“Cregan?” You say confused, turning to look up at him.

He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Cregan’s sudden change of behavior.

He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.

“Not here.�� You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.

You both hadn’t even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.

He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.

Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.

He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.

You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.

Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.

“Fuck, Alysanne.” He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.

You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.

He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.

You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.

He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.

You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldn’t waken. In reality, you could’ve started screaming and he wouldn’t have woke, or even shuffled.

You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.

“My sister!” Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. “Oh my gods, did you and Cregan just…?”

You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. “Wait, sister what is wrong? What happened?”

You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.

—

“Mother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.”

You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.

“Jacaerys?” You said, when your eyes landed on him.

“I take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.” He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.

“I guess you could say that.” You said, wiping your hair to the side.

“You’re disgusting.” He says.

“Gods, five minutes you’ve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!” You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.

You push him out of your room.

“Don’t touch me, wench!” He whines, smacking your arms.

“Piss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.”

“I’d rather harass the Lady.” You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.

You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. “Jace, I said-“

You don’t finish your sentence, since as you open the door it’s Sara.

“I wanna talk about last night.”

“I don’t.” You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.

“What happened?” She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.

“Did my brother hurt you?” She asks, worried.

“No, no.”

She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Tell me what happened.”

You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. “We had sex.”

“Isn’t that good? What went wrong?”

“He called me Alysanne.” You sob out.

“Oh, no.” She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.

“I cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.”

“I am sorry, princess.” She says, sadly. “I thought I knew my brother better than that… Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.”

You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.

You cleaned yourself up and went to Cregan’s chambers, knowing he would be hungover.

And you were right.

You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now you’ve been in his chambers.

“You can set it on the table.” He says, not moving the rag.

“What?”

“Oh.” He says, his voice changing in tone. “I thought you were the maid.”

You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.

“Can whatever you’ve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.” He asks, only the question is more of a statement.

“No.” You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. “We’re going to talk, Cregan. We’ve been married for months and I don’t think we’ve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. You’ve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and I’m tired of it. I’ve helped raise your son, I’ve loved you and I’ve cared for you even when you didn’t want it. You owe this to me.”

He sighs, defeated. “You are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?”

“No, Cregan. We will talk now.”

“You wouldn’t rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?”

“No. Now.” You say. He sighs again.

“Say your piece.”

The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.

He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.

“Oh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-“

“Do not speak to me about my wife, ever!” He yells, pointing at you.

“I am your wife!” You cry out. “You chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!”

He goes quiet for a few moments, “You have always had my respect, princess… and I know I have erred in the way I’ve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love… so do not expect me to love you back.”

You laugh, dryly. “You called me Alysanne last night… Do you remember that? No… I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.”

He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.

“The dead don’t need lovers. Only the living.” You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.

The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.

He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didn’t know how to show it. He didn’t want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.

You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.

You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and ‘plain’ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.

You cried. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”

Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.

You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.

———

“You’re a fucking fool, brother.”

“You think I don’t know that? Gods.” Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since you’d left.

“We’ll be lucky if the bloody queen doesn’t declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.”

“I am trying here, Sara! I’ve sent my ravens, I’ve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!”

Sara slammed her hands on the table. “Go and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.”

Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.

You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.

Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Cregan’s union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.

Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.

The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead don’t need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.

He loved you. If only it hadn’t taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didn’t have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didn’t consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.

Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.

It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.

“Your Grace!” A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. “Cregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.”

Your mother looked at you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.

You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.

“Cregan.” You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.

“I love you.”

“Cregan…”

“Love her?” You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. “You love my daughter?”

“Your Grace.” Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. “I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”

She walked towards you both. “It is not mine you need to beg for… I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!”

“Mother!”

“You will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.” She commands you. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?”

He stands. “I have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.”

“Why are you here?” Your mother asks him.

“I’ve come to ask the princess to return home.” Your mother scoffs at him.

She looks at you, then back to him. “You are lucky it is not my decision to make.”

She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.

You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” You ask Cregan.

“It took you leaving for me to realize I love you.” He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, starting to sob.

“I know, I know.” He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I loved you, Cregan.” You say, crying. “Since I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, you’re just like the rest.”

Cregan cries into your hair. “I’m so sorry, my princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

You both stand there, holding each other and crying.

“Please come home.” He says. “Let me take you home.”

“Rickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister… I miss you, you my wife.”

You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.

“Okay.”

———

You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.

Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.

Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.

You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.

But you had been keeping a secret from him.

After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.

Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.

The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.

Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.

It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each other’s hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.

Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldn’t make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.

Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t knock, he didn’t know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.

Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.

He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.

You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d seen you naked, although it hadn’t been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasn’t the problem either.

It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.

Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. “Cregan!”

“Sorry.” He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.

“It’s fine.” You said, dropping your arm from your chest. “You just gave me a fright.”

He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.

“What is that?” He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.

You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.

“Perhaps it’s time we talk.”

“You think?” He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be cross with you.”

You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.

He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.

“Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.”

“Truth be told it’s been hard for me to accept I’m truly with a child.” You say, “The reality had not set in until… well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.”

He chokes back a sob. “Feels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.”

“He will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.” You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, you’re already leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you. I love you so much, my wife.” He says in between kisses.

His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.

[sleptting]

felt silly

[buckyalpine]

Just a fluffy little thought. A grumpy, moody, broody Bucky, moping and grumbling through the compound with a scowl on his face. He was restless and annoyed the whole jet ride home. He tosses his bags off to the side, throwing off his tactical gear without a care in the world and Sam and Nat are utterly baffled because the mission was a complete success. Bucky's plan worked perfectly, his strategies were what got them in and out, he'd even saved a group of civilians that were unexpected.

Why was he grumpier than usual?

Because something is not right.

Everyone gathers for dinner and he barely takes a bite. He's shifting his food around his a fork before getting up and sitting on the couch instead with his arms across his chest and shoulders tensed. No one breathes a word, letting him storm to himself. Except you. You'd noticed Bucky's less than pleasant attitude but it doesn't scare you and you felt bad seeing him sitting by himself clearly stewing over something.

Maybe you had a crush on the soldier too. Maybe.

"Hey" You give him a soft smile as you take a seat beside him, still giving him space, "You okay?"

He gives you a shrug in response but that was normal with Bucky. You'd check in again and if he still didn't want to talk, you'd leave him alone.

"What's wrong"

Usually his standard answer of telling people to fuck off was easy but not with you. Never with you. Not when you turn him into a pile of mush and fluff. Bucky's grumpy face turns more into a pout as he contemplates telling you what's been making him so mad.

"My tummy hurts" he mumbles and you have to hold every fiber of your body together to keep from melting into a puddle because he could have said he felt unwell. Stomach pain. Stomach ache.Felt sick. Felt off. He could have said absolutely any other variation of what he was feeling but no.

The poor, grumpy, angry soldier was huffy and puffy because of a tummy ache.

"I'm sorry bub" you coo, not even realizing what you'd called him,"What would make you feel better?" You ask but Bucky doesn't actually know the answer. When he usually felt queasy he'd just grit it out until it went away.

"When I was little, my ma would make me some soup" He wasn't sure if it actually cured anything but he remembered it always being the yummiest thing he'd tasted and the one thing that made him feel all better. "But that was for when I had a cold"

"What about for tummy aches" You asked, noting the way the soldiers cheeks turned pink, his fingers fidgeting with each other. Of course he knew what his ma would do for his little achy belly but it's not like you could help...

"Um, sometimes she'd tuck me in bed and then.."

"Then?" You cock your head in curiosity while Bucky's voice dies on his tongue.

"Then she'd rub my tummy till I went to sleep" He rushes out with a small voice while keeping his eyes trained on his hands. His eyes grow wide at the giggle you let out, worried he'd made a complete idiot of himself, what were you to do with that information, it's not like you'd-

"C'mere" You take his hand gently in yours, gauging his reaction before moving him to lay his head on your lap. Bucky's stomach is now a mess of butterflies and whatever was upsetting him, his muscles melting into Jello as soon as you'd touched him. "Is this okay?" Your hand rests closer to his hip than right on his stomach and Bucky is barely able to squeak out a yes along with a quick nod.

You hum, moving your hand to rub soft circles around his tummy, his firm muscles under making you giddy on the inside. You recollect your nerves, focused on soothing motions, your other hand moving to play with Bucky's hair. You card your fingers through his short chestnut locks, smiling at the way he closes his eyes, his breathing starting to slow, muscles releasing their tenison.

"Better?" You whisper, giggling to yourself at the deep purr he made in response, relaxing with your gentle ministrations. He rolls over, smushing his face against your stomach, far too relaxed to care. The soft snores that follow after let you know the remedy certainly worked. As soon as you move your hand away, he blindly reaches out, placing it right back where it belongs and going back to sleep immediately after, tummy ache all gone, flutterly little butterflies replacing them. He's already dreaming of all the ways he could return the favour.

Isn't he an absolute precious baby.

So cute.

Bonus scene:

Of course the team gawk at what they see; the grumpy soldier now happy as a clam on your lap.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Bucky's tummy hurts" You reply with a smile and honestly the answer sends everyone into chaos.

"Awww Buckyyyy"

"So that's why he was so grumpy. Should've known when he kept pouting everytime we had turbulence"

"AWWWW The winter soldier as a widdle tummy ache?" Sam coos, only to silence his cackles when Bucky's eyes shoot open, staring daggers at him. "Don't give me that look when you're curled up on y/n's lap like a cat"

"Does rubbing it help ya feel all better-oh fuck"

Bucky's glare sends everyone scrambling right out, the empty room leaving him all content again.

Yes.

Rubbing his tummy made him feel all better.

[moonchild-in-blue]

I just think that he!!

just gonna paste my og tags here because i seem to rb this every few months anyways:

Wishing I was Cecil, the weiner-dog 🌭🐶

[sena-seastar]

Mine all mine

Aemond x Wife reader

Summary: Yours and Aemond's child refuses to let you sleep.

A/N: This is a short fluff piece I wrote two years ago after season one ended. I just thought I would post it now.

“Hush now, little one, I’ve-” you yawn, trying to blink the sleep away from your eyes.  “I’ve got you.” You tiredly cooed as you picked up the writhing baby from her cradle for the fourth time.

“She’s quite restless tonight,” your husband groaned from your shared bed.

You patted the baby on the back to soothe the sniffling girl, humming in agreement. Then, you placed the back of your hand against her clammy forehead.

“She’s quite warm; perhaps we should send for a maester?”

You watched as Aemond sat up. He instinctively reached for the black leather eyepatch to conceal his sapphire eye before stopping himself. It had taken him almost a year after the two of you wed before he felt comfortable enough to let you see him without it. But even now, a couple of years later, insecurity still managed to worm its way under his skin.

His long hair started falling out of the simple braid you had put it in before bed. The child gurgled and squirmed with excitement when he walked to your side. 

A wide grin stretched across his face as your daughter squealed with delight as he took her into his arms.

“How is my little one feeling? Mother thinks you're unwell,” he scrunched his face, making the baby giggle.

“I’m serious, Aemond. You know what the maester said. If she gets another fever, we should take her to him.”

“She’s a little warm, my love. Most likely from that thick blanket, you insisted on wrapping her in.” He chided, lazily gesturing towards the cradle.

“She was cold,” you mumble, realizing that perhaps the man was right. Not that you were willing to admit that to him.

Your little family made your way back to the large bed in the middle of the room. The sky was beginning to lighten, though the sun had yet to appear. The loud chirping of birds could be heard, along with the servants who had awoken to start their daily duties before the nobles awoke. You climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over your body to fight off the morning chill. Aemond rested his back against the pillows, sitting your child on his lap.

You watched with a smile as Daenys toyed with her father’s fingers. She quickly lowered her face and bit down. The man pulled it back with an exaggerated hiss. The little girl froze, her eyes widened, and her mouth hung open in shock. However, her mood swiftly changed as she giggled at her father’s pained expression. She grinned widely, exposing the two front teeth that had recently sprouted from her gums.

“Carefully, husband, or you may lose a finger,” you tease.

The man shot you a playful glare before lecturing the child on biting. However, it only seemed to make the child giggle even more.

“Now, Daenys, what have we said about the biting? You do not bite kepa. Save that for your uncle.” 

You rolled your eyes at his childishness. 

“Do you want me to take her?” You asked. “There’s no use in both of us being exhausted.”

“No, you get some rest,” he replied absent-mindedly.

Aemond kept his gaze on your little girl. A giddy smile sat on his lips as Daenys crawled up his chest. He took hold of one of her chubby little hands, holding it to his mouth, pretending to eat it. She squealed, pulling it away before holding it out for him to take again.

You smiled and rested your head on the soft feather pillow beneath you, watching as the two people most dear to your heart played together. It was such a heartwarming sight. You fought to keep your eyes open, but sleep had won.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x slytherin!fem!reader

Summary: When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort <3

Warning: swearing, mentions of being drugged/drunk, violence, mentions of blood, protective!James

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

When James sees you walk into the classroom with an unusually cheery smile, he can't look away.

"Sirius," he pauses and leans in closer to his friend, "does she look unwell to you?" James whispers, clearly concerned for you. Sirius lets his chin rest on his palms as he looks over at you nonchalantly.

You almost trip on your shoe-laces as you make your way to your desk and you laugh a little too loudly, but only James seems to notice that particular detail.

"Y/l/n? She seems quite happy to me," Sirius's smirk is heard in his voice but James doesn't look amused. 

"No, something's wrong. She's usually quiet and she," he doesn't finish his sentence when he sees your friends in the corner of the classroom.

Some of them look as concerned as he is while most hide smiles and snickers behind their hands as they look at you. James's eyes bounce back to you and his frown deepens. Something is wrong. Instantly, he's on his feet.

"Prongs!?" Sirius sounds surprised but it's no use trying to stop him because James is already on his way to you.

Just as you raise your arm to run a hand in your – already annoyed – desk partner's hair, James quickly swoops in and catches your wrist. You pause and when you turn your head to look at him, your smile widens. 

"Potter!" you slur.

James can be an idiot sometimes, but he does know you're not drunk. He's never seen you drink. You look dizzy and he comes to the conclusion you must be under the influence of some kind of spell. He looks you over and sees the nasty cut on your knee. Anger bubbles in his stomach as he remembers how your friends somehow found this all incredibly funny. 

You tilt your head at him slightly and say, "You have pretty eyes, did you know that?" you smile a smile James usually loves and was never directed at him before, but by now the entire classroom has their eyes on you and, because he knows you would hate all this unnecessary attention, James helps you stand.

You let out a breathy giggle when his hands find your waist and hold you steady.  

"What are you doing?" a shrill voice asks from behind him and James clenches his jaw. He turns around. It's one of your friends. She's also in Slytherin and as hard as he tries, James can't remember her name.

"Helping your friend," he says blankly, "She seems a little out of it, doesn't she?"

"She's fine," your friend rolls her and tucks her dark hair behind her ear. "Aren't you, Y/n?" she asks you with a faint smirk.

Your body sways and James's arms move from your waist and swoops around you to hold under your armpits. "I'm okay — y-yeah, I'm okay. I feel better than fine," You mutter, eyelids fluttering slightly as you giggle at his touch.

James isn't at all convinced you're okay. 

Your friend's cruel smirk and the mystery of how you've bruised your knee leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"She's bleeding," he states as calmly as he can. 

"She's just clumsy." 

"She's obviously been hexed or something," James narrows his eyes.

Your friend laughs at his accusatory tone. "What? And you think I did it?"

"Yeah, actually, I do."

At this point, it's obvious you aren't paying attention to their argument as you start to play with James's collar. His cheeks flush pink as your hair skims his chin and the smell of your shampoo fills the air.

"Well if you won't tell me what happened to her, then I'll find out myself," he says and his hand moves to hold yours. "Come on," he whispers sweetly and you let him lead you out of the classroom.

James is extremely careful with you. He makes sure you don't trip in the hallway, or run into any doors and walls, and more importantly he stays with you when the nurse comes to make sure you're okay.

He leans over the hospital bed as his hand hover over your knee as he asks, "What's happened to her?" 

"Veritaserum," the nurse says as she presses her palm on your forehead. 

"The truth serum?" James is confused. "Doesn't that make someone tell the truth? Why would it make her act so," he turns his head to look at you and conflicting emotions creates what feels like an empty pit in his stomach. You look so beautiful with your eyes blown wide as you glance around the room. "So ditzy?" he finishes in an endeared whisper.

"It isn't uncommon as everyone can have different reactions," The nurse explains as she gently inspects your knee, "I think whoever made this potion must not be particularly skilled."

James clenches his fist around his cloak and tries to remind himself that you probably wouldn't want him to beat up your so-called-friends.

"What's happening to me?" your voice comes out strained as you try and focus on their conversation as you catch on to their confused faces. 

"Nothing, honey, you're fine. Your friend was worried and he," 

You interrupt her, "James Potter? Oh, he isn't my friend." You look up at James and his smile disappears. He's embarrassed as he searches your face for any indication that you're joking but clearly you aren't because you ask him. "Potter, do you even know my name?" You sound serious.

James hesitates to answer, "Of course I know your name, Y/n," he finally admits.

He doesn't expect your eyes to light up but they do and you turn to the nurse, "He does know my name," you whisper with a smile.

James's heart swells at how happy you seem and he smirks a little. Amused, the nurse lets you continue, "You'know," you lean in closer and mutter just loud enough for James to hear without you knowing, "I really like him."

Surprised, his heart jumps and the nurse panics as he quickly shuts you up. "Alright honey, let's clean up this nasty little wound and then wait for the potion to pass, ok?" you nod and focus on her as she waves her wand across your knee and the cut disappears. 

Once she's done, the nurse turns to James and says, "I know you must be curious, Potter, but I think Y/l/n should be alone while she recovers," the nurse turns to you again and looks at you sympathetically.

"He can stay!" you insist, "I want him to stay."

James looks into your eyes and he wonders how he can even think of disappointing you.

But, when he looks at the nurse again his heart sinks. He can't stay, he knows he can't. It would be unfair. You deserve to keep your secrets — all those feelings you wouldn't share with him normally — hidden away in your pretty little head. 

James knows he can't take those away from you so he nods, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and sends you a lopsided smile. "I'll see you around, mmh?" 

He leaves before he can focus on the way you called his name because if he does, he knows he'd feel compelled to rush back in and stay by your side. On his way back to the classroom, he can't help but smile as he remembers your words. Only, his smile disappears the moment he hears your friends in the hallway. 

James stops in front of them and they do the same. The girl from earlier crosses her arms. "What's your issue, Potter?" she snarls, "Where's Y/n?"

James refuses to answer her question. "You gave her the Veritaserum, didn't you?" he accuses and some of your friend's squirm guiltily. The dark-haired girl just smirks.

"So what if we did? She isn't dying, is she? It was funny," she turns to your other friends with a grin and they nod meekly. "You should have seen her stumbling around, she wasn't even fazed when she fell and scraped her knee on the cobblestones. It was hilarious," she continues.

James's face burns from the points of his ears to his cheeks. "Hilarious?!" he repeats, his voice stern, "What kind of friends find it funny when their friend hurts themselves? She didn't know about the Veritaserum, did she?" 

The girl shakes her head but one of your other friends interrupts. He's a tall, lanky Slytherin with icy blue eyes and vibrant auburn hair.

"Of course she didn't know, Potter. It wouldn't be as fun if she did. I would think you would understand," he admits with a grin.

James's hands shake as he stares at your friend rambling. The boy only chuckles and turns to his friends, amused, as he taunts, "Slipped the potion in her drink myself this morning."

He doesn't finish his sentence as James punches him. He stumbles back into the girls, cupping his hands around his nose, as they shriek in surprise. James shakes his hand out a little and narrows his eyes. "You don't spike someone's drink, asshole. And don't fucking insinuate I would ever do something like that to anyone!"

"What the fuck? Why do you even care?" The boy hisses as one girl holds his shoulder and tends to him. "You're crazy." 

And sure, maybe James was crazy but he won't tolerate someone hurting you. 

Ever. 

* * *

"James, just give the poor girl some space," Remus sighs as he tries to concentrate on his essay. "She's gone through enough these last few days. Haven't you heard the rumors going around? They're brutal."

James resists the scream that bubbles in his throat. "I know. I know. I just want to be there for her," he whines and Sirius wraps his arm around his shoulder.

"You'll just make things worse," Sirius says, "Last rumor I heard is that she faked it all for your attention." 

James clenches his jaw. "How would I make this worse? It's all so fucking cruel, Pads. She's all alone," his heart has been slowly breaking whenever he thinks of you sobbing in your dorm or sitting alone during your classes and meals. 

He shuts his eyes a moment and then sits up abruptly and says, "I know what to do."

Remus looks up and with a worried expression, his eyes widen. "Prongs," he starts but James is already standing. "Sirius! Don't let him leave!" Remus insists but it's too late because their friend is already out the Common Room door. 

When James enters the Great Hall, he pauses and searches for you. He sees you sitting alone and he becomes so angry he can't think normally.

He storms up to the Slytherin table and jumps on top of it. Some cutlery and food falls to the floor and students turn their heads. James just clears his throat, making a show as he stumbles on his feet. 

If everyone wants to gossip about something, they can gossip about this. 

With a grin, he spreads his arms and shouts, "Can I have everyone's attention?" The Great Hall turns silent and James struts down the table until he's much closer to you. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hold your breath.

Remus and Sirius run into the Great Hall, calling James's name but it's too late because James is now standing in front of you as he holds out his hand. "Y/n, will you go out with me?" He asks, his voice loud and calm.

Whispers break out as your heart thumps in your chest. You look into James's eyes, searching them and when you reluctantly take his hand he nods a little and pulls you up onto the table with him. 

Quickly, he pulls you closer and then whispers in your ear, "Say no. Trust me." 

Your frown deepens but the words leave you without thinking, "No?" 

James smirks and just subtle enough for no one to see, he kisses your cheek and pulls you away from him. Dramatically, he stumbles backwards and covers his heart. "Ow, you're killing me here, love. What will I do without you?"

If you didn't know he had just asked you to reject him, you would think he sounds genuinely hurt. As he stumbles, he trips on someone's glass and with a loud crash, he falls to the ground.

Students gasp loudly and so do you as you cover your mouth with your hands and rush to the edge of the table and peer down at him. When you see him sitting on the ground he suddenly blows a kiss up to you, a small paper bird flutters up to you and then turns into rose petals.

Your eyes widen and you can't help but laugh when James continues to make a scene and the petals fall in your hair. "You're breaking my heart, darling. Criminal," James whispers and winks dramatically. 

"James Potter, detention. Now," McGonagall's voice booms and when James sees you hide a smile behind your hand, he smiles too.

A while later, as James sweeps up McGonagall's classroom floor, all he can think of is your happy smile.

"James?" Your voice interrupts his memory and he jumps a little, turning towards the door. You stand in the doorway, a flustered look on your face as you hesitate to come inside. James drops the broom and rushes over to you. 

His knuckles hover over your cheek as he says, "Y/n, are you okay?"

Your eyes widen and you touch his hand. Gently, you pull it down to his side again as you whisper and ask, "What was that all about?"

James searches your face for anger. "I wanted to take the embarrassment off of you. You don't deserve anything that's been happening to you, love. None of it is your fault."

You look at him more seriously. "Yeah, it's been a little hard but I can handle the teasing. You shouldn't have done that," you say and James's heart clenches in his chest. 

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Y/n. I just wanted,"

You interrupt him, "No. I mean you shouldn't have asked me to say no," you pause and look up at him, "unless, you don't actually want to go out with me. But, I know you know how I feel about you and I,"

Your sentence dies and you don't know what else to say. 

James's expression softens. You look up at him, almost pleading with him, "Please don't make me repeat what I said in the Hospital Wing. It's so embarrassing, and I know you heard me. I wasn't exactly quiet."

James smirks. "When you said you like me?" he holds up his finger and pretends to ponder, "No I'm sorry, you really like me," his smile widens as he looks at you. You feel warmth in your cheeks and look away.

"Yeah, that."

"Well, I really like you too."

Your eyes widen and you look up at him. James uses his thumb to lift your chin. You realize how close your body is to his and your breath hitches in your throat. James's hand moves to your cheek, caressing it softly as you whisper, "You do?"

James lets out a breathy chuckle. "Of course I do. You're beautiful, kind, incredibly smart it's annoying," his eyes are full of admiration, "What's there not to like, darlin'?"

You frown, glancing quickly at the emblem stitched onto my robes and then you look at him again. "But, I'm a Slytherin. I didn't even think you ever knew who I was until last week. We've never really talked."

James's smile falters and his thumb moves behind your ear as he holds your cheek. "That's my fault. I should have said something sooner but with my reputation and all," he looks away, his face twisted in shame, "I didn't want to scare you away."

You see the sincerity in his eyes but ask wearily, "So it doesn't bother you?" 

"That you're in Slytherin?" James smiles a little. "No, it doesn't, love. I don't care. I've seen how you are and I think you're absolutely lovely," he catches himself, "I mean, I'm not saying Slytherin's aren't lovely,"

You shut him up with a kiss. It's confident and startling but James doesn't complain. He simply pulls you in closer and lets his mouth explore yours with a passion he didn't know he had. He didn't know how starved he was of your taste until now.

Fuck, he's fucked. 

You pull away, lips wet and stare at him. "Sorry," you mutter.

"Sorry?" James frowns and leans in to kiss you again, "Don't you dare be sorry. Just kiss me," his words leave you a mush in his arms and you're happy for his hand around your back because otherwise you would fall over. 

When he finally disconnects your lips, he leans his forehead on yours and whispers what he'd been thinking, "You'll kill me, love."

You smile and hold his arm. "Thanks for saving me by the way, when I was under the potion," you say. 

James leans away and studies your soft expression with a small smile. "I'd be an asshole not to help you. I didn't want to see you get hurt." 

"Still, if you hadn't seen that something was wrong I don't know what would have happened."

"Nothing would have happened because I was there," James insists and kisses your forehead, "I'll always be there." He adds in a whisper into your hair.

It's only for him to hear. He doesn't want to just tell you he's there for you, instead he wants to show you. Everyday.