#i need to make it clear that i was very not normal about in middle school but with all the recent lore i
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Super agree.
The thing is, a lot of pseudoscience is very close to a correct scientific fact but interprets it wrong or extends a rule of thumb beyond what is supported by the evidence.
So be merciful, but firmly on the side of the truth.
Flat Earth: Issac Asimov has a beautiful essay on this one but I'll paraphrase: If most people look out their window, they see rolling hills somewhat hidden by vegetation and/or water. (Because those are the places on earth most conducive to human life, also selection bias). But if you do a little research, keep careful track, and compile reports from other travellers, you realize that maybe the hills average out. Now what? If you do that leg work, you arrive at an unintuitive result: On average the earth is flat. This lets you correctly predict things like: the mountains, no matter how high, come back down on the other side, the sea floor comes back up on the other side, etc.
But once you extend it far enough, you find this theory making claims that are inaccurate, and the farther you take it the more inaccurate it is.
When we say that we have a better theory now, we don't mean that the flat earth theory is false, we mean that we've adjusted it slightly to make it more accurate, 0.008983 degrees per km to be exact, to imagine Earth as a sphere. (And additional even smaller adjustments to more closely approximate the real shape of the earth, an oblate sphereoid.)
No one quibbles about 0.008983 degrees per km in normal everyday life. But we very much do need to take it into account when planning journies many km long, and more so the faster we travel, or the harder it is to steer, like aeroplanes and spaceships.
Homeopathy is similar: Take a look at any medicine in your cabinet. In almost all of them the active ingredient is below 2%! (And remember that that tiny amount will further be dissolved and diluted throughout your whole body, or at least your whole bloodstream.) Most active ingredients target an internal distribution in the in parts per million/billion. Some active ingredients are considered most effective/safest at parts per trillion.
Why is it like that? Some of it is safety, other parts are psychology and ease of use. You don't want to just take the two drops of a full dose! The active ingredient might taste impossibly bad, be caustic at that concentration, or any number of other things that might prevent you from swallowing the whole dose. (Or take 3 drops by accident, or drop one on the floor and poison the cat.) Or worse, it tastes like nothing and people won't believe you that it is medicine, or figure out how easy it might be to poison people with it.
If you find/isolate/invent a new pharmacological/active ingredient, you don't just need to know the required treatment dose, you also need to find the correct delivery buffer(s) to dilute it with to make it safe to take without rendering it inert or inaccessible.
If you flunked out of pharmacy school without the full picture of all of that, or got hold of your mother's textbooks while in middle school one afternoon while you were sufficiently bored, you could easily misinterpret a discussion about finding effective buffers and safe dilutions to keep the patient from rejecting the active ingredient and invent homoeopathy from first principles. Or you might understand it correctly but fail to pass on the true goals of dilution to the second generation of your practitioners.
That said, if your active ingredient's correct dilution is measured in parts per trillion, you should not be handling that without a hazmat suit. Just like big pharma. (Oh, it's just daisies? Daisies which are universally considered to be non-toxic to humans and horses? Nope, you are selling weirdly themed bottled water.)
Comparatively, I have great respect for (at least one brand of) essential oil distributors, they are very clear: The effective dose is X drops, and the minimum carrier oil dilution (for the average person to not develop an allergic sensitivity) is Y per drop. And they don't sell carrier oils (you can just grab them from your local grocery store), so there is no financial incentive to them to get the dilution numbers wrong.
I understand that vaccines are proven to work and are a great advancement in our medicine, and also that homeopathic remedies don't work, but don't they work on the same principal? Why does one work and the other doesnt?
They do not work on the same principle.
I can see how vaccines look like a "like treats like" situation, but in homeopathy "like treats like" is a kind of magical thinking.
Let's take an example from Chicken Pox, a virus for which there is an effective vaccine and for which there is a common homeopathic treatment.
Chicken pox infects people once, and it is extremely rare to get a second case because once you have had it, your body forms persistent antibodies against the varicella-zoster virus. When I was a kid, they didn't have a vaccine for this, so kids mostly got chicken pox once and it ran around whole schools and that was it. It's a virus that is fairly minor in children, though it can cause dangerously high fevers. Adults who get chicken pox typically get much sicker than children who get it, and it can lead to permanent harms like infertility in adults who get it. Because it can be so dangerous, we don't want people to risk getting it, so we vaccinate.
The way the vaccine works is that it takes a weakened form of the virus and introduces that into the body of a person with a healthy immune system. The immune system responds and the person who got the vaccine may get some minor symptoms, like a headache or a slight fever, but it will be nowhere near as severe as getting actual chicken pox would be. Because the immune system was exposed to the virus and responded, it now has antibodies against the virus that recognize the virus and respond immediately before it can start replicating in the body. If a person who has either previously had chicken pox or who has been vaccinated against it is exposed to the chicken pox virus, their body uses those antibodies to react to the virus and protect against a systemic infection.
Are you familiar with Star Trek? It's kind of like the Borg. You can't use the same attack pattern against the Borg multiple times because if you do, they'll recognize the pattern and will be able to defend against it. The virus is the attacker, and your immune system is the Borg. It knows what it's looking for and won't let anything get through its defenses.
Homeopathic remedies don't seek to prevent illness or provoke an immune response, they seek to cancel out something that is happening in the body.
For chicken pox, which produces itchy red bumps, homeopaths use Rhus Tox - a dilution of poison ivy, a plant that causes itchy red bumps if you encounter it in nature. The Rhus Tox didn't cause the chicken pox, it's not given to prevent the virus, it's from a plant that is completely unrelated to the virus that happens to produce some of the same symptoms as the virus when you touch it.
They don't even think that the Rhus Tox will provoke an immune response from your body like actually touching poison ivy would, they're attempting to use an unrelated compound (that is so diluted that it isn't even present in the preparation) in place of your immune system to attack the itchy red bumps.
So I'm going to go over this in a few brief points:
Vaccines are preventative ONLY, they are not a treatment for illness or symptoms of an illness
Vaccines work by introducing your immune system to a partial, weakened, or dead virus so that your immune system can form antibodies against that virus and prevent that virus from replicating in your body when it is later exposed to a whole/strong/live virus.
Different vaccines have different levels of effectiveness and produce different lengths of immunity; this is for a number of reasons, but if you get a measles shot as a kid you may only ever need one booster, while you need a flu shot every year and a tetanus shot every decade. All of them work the same way, though: they show your immune system what a virus looks like so that your immune system can kill the virus.
That is why immune compromised people sometimes can't be vaccinated, or why vaccines don't work as well for them or may need higher doses or more boosters. Because they don't have a healthy immune system, weakened viruses like the ones in the chickenpox virus might be too strong for their immune system to fight, and even if it doesn't get them sick, their bodies may not be able to produce enough effective antibodies to protect them from the virus in the future. That's part of why it's important for as many people to be vaccinated as possible; the more people who are vaccinated, the harder it is for viruses to spread, and vulnerable people like immune compromised people or babies too young for vaccination won't be exposed to deadly viruses.
Homeopathy, on the other hand, aims to treat symptoms of an illness that a person is already experiencing.
Homeopathic treatments do not aim to provoke an immune response, they aim to cancel out a symptom with a cure.
Dilution is a very important part of homeopathy, with homeopaths claiming that the more diluted a preparation is the stronger it is. This is simply incorrect; I don't know how to make a more logical explanation of that, it is just wrong that less of a substance causes more of a response.
Homeopathy says "like treats like" and that may seem like using a vaccine with a weak virus to prevent infection from a strong virus, but their version of "like" is different - Rhus Tox (poison ivy) is supposed to be "like" chicken pox because both cause itching. Rhus tox is also supposed to treat PCOS, erectile dysfunction, uterine prolapse, sunken eyes, nausea, and backache. "Like" can have an extremely broad meaning in homeopathy, which should be cause for suspicion.
Here's a paper that compared the immune response of college students given homeopathic "vaccines" against a control group and against a group of students who were given standard medical vaccines. The control group and the homeopathic group both did not have an immune response in titer tests, while the vaccination group did have an immune response, demonstrating that they had protection from the vaccinated viruses. It's a pretty good demonstration both of how effective homeopathy is (not at all) as well as how to set up a fair and ethical study to look at the effectiveness of different kinds of treatments.
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some things i've manifested
these are some basic stories, but i have some "crazy" ones i might share if you guys want lol
note: before manifesting i used to have a pretty "normal" life. i was conventionally attractive, middle classs, etc. i didn't really "need" anything but a social life and better grades. regardless of that, i just manifested whatever i wanted and didn't limit myself. i also added a few little stories behind them.
appearance change:
changed my hair texture to curly
grew from 5'2 to 5'6
clear, even skin and skin tone (tbh i already had a really good skincare routine, my skin was super clear bc of that BUT my face used to be like 10 shades darker than the rest of my body and i had CRAZY backne and strawberry legs)
losing 30 pounds (i used to be 72kg, now i'm 58kg)
changed my shoe size (i used to be size 9 now i'm size 7)
changed my hand size (for reference, my hands used to be a little longer than my phone, i had a "pro max" sized phone.)
social life:
having good friends in my state (im from up north and was completely lonely in the state i live in now)
popularity (i used to be pretty irrelevant but now everybody likes me and wants to be around me)
getting my sp's (i manifested them from scratch and took inspired action to meet them)
having people crush on me more overtly/ getting approached more (this is kind of a weird one, before my appearance change i was pretty attractive like maybe a 7/10, but i got tired of people just ogling me and not approaching me. i only had the unattractive and overconfident guys approaching me, all the attractive ones just stared lol)
just being likable lol (people used to feel threatened by me or feel like i was standoffish for some reason. idrk tbh but it was VERY annoying. i literally used to get accused of "acting like i own the place" for being quiet and just existing 💀. i didn't really care what they thought, but i hated when they complained about it and tried to make it my problem.)
school:
higher gpa (i used to have a 3.0 but i manifested a 3.8, which is a weighted 4.0)
high grades (i used to fail many tests/exams and have a mix of a, b, and c's. now they're all a's)
dream college acceptance
teachers liking me (they actually used to hate my guts it was so annoying 😭)
school crushes liking me back (tbh they probably thought i was already attractive but they never spoke to me or seemed like they wanted to get to know me)
leaving early (my school day ends at like 12 now)
lifestyle:
living closer to the city
having my dream routine (i have my dream skincare products, haircare products, diet, and health routines.)
having a high self concept (tbh i technically always did, i knew what i wanted and deserved. i just felt more like i was being injusticed. so i got rid of the "unwilling victim" mentality. i also used to ruminate on irrelevant things, like mistakes i made, what people thought of me, etc.)
very high confidence (in my looks, abilities, judgement, etc.)
money for my parents and myself
having a busy, productive life (i used to hate school because my grades weren't contributing to anything i wanted to do in life, so i wanted a productive life outside of that.)
always getting my way
getting all sorts of things for free
and more!
i'd say this all took me around 2-3 months, not because manifesting takes time, but because i assumed a lot of things would take time. i also had periods of doubt in myself and tried to handle things in the 3d on my own for some time.. which obviously didn't work. still, all i did was assume and accept these things as true and they happened overnight, in a day, or within that week. the longest anything's taken me is like 7 days, and that was because i kept wavering in my mind. manifestation is truly instant.
but anyways, i hope this is motivational and helpful. i do have some pretty "ridiculous" stories like some revenge stories, "crazy" stories regarding sp's, some not very appropriate stories, really good things happening to me, and others.
thanks for reading! i hope this helps. 🩶
#edward art#law of assumption#loa#loa blog#loa success#loa tumblr#loablr#loass states#loassblog#loassumption#neville goddard#loa states#loa motivation#loa advice#loa help#loa manifesting#loa methods#loass post#loassblr#loass success#success story
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TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.
Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.
But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.
Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).
In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.
At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.
She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.
Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.
Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.
He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.
Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."
I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.
Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.
Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.
LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.
Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.
And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)
Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).
So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.
I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.
WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."
Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.
Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.
The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"
Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.
Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.
ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.
SO. MUCH. BETTER.
Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.
Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)
So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.
I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.
Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?
You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.
(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)
Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.
#francesca bridgerton#bridgerton#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton spoilers#bridgerton s3#john stirling#bridgerton netflix#bridgerton season three#Francesca is Autistic#Autism#Autistic
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Hello, how you doing ?
Could i request Cregan Stark x Daemon's first daughter, born from Rhea Royce ?
She is a Targaryen and has a dragon, but she is very shy and tends to keep to herself, so she doesn't tell Cregan about being bullied by Arra Norrey's maids, who think she is not good enough for their lord.
He figures it out when he finds her letters to Rhaenyra and sees her trying to put her bags on her dragon to flee in the middle of the night.
Feel free to ignore this if you don't like it, have a lovely day ☺
Shadows of the past - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/704dd798b86e1699b470a2f22585bbe3/08253481c0c5b4e7-89/s540x810/f5a76009b0a2ecf72145193d6cf052a73b20ad2a.jpg)
summary: Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, is forced to remarry after the death of his first wife and childhood sweetheart. His new bride is the eldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce. Cregan fears the worst. But his wife is sweet, gentle, beautiful, kind. Everything he could wish for. He starts thinking you are slowly building a life together in the north, however he realizes that it is not as idyllic for you as he thought.
words: 7.244
warnings: angst, mention of bullying, mention of sex (not explicit), slow burn
a/n: I love writing for Cregan soo much its not normall anymore. Thank you anon for your request🧡. I hope you like it. Sorry that it took me so long.
no use of Y/N, and as always: English is not my first language, no beta, AO3.
requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist
When the offer of your hand from Dragonstone came, Cregan was skeptical. The eldest daughter of the rough prince as a wife. But he needs a new wife. It is his duty as the Warden of the North. And an offer from the Targaryens is not something you simply refuse. So he agrees.
Cregan had expected you to be a spoiled, arrogant, selfish princess.
The girl who arrived in Winterfell on her dragon is exactly the opposite.
You are shy, reserved, calm.
Outwardly, you are entirely Targaryen, with long blonde hair, deep lilac eyes, gentle facial features, beautiful.
Internally, there is none of the infamous Targaryen temperament in you.
When you speak, your voice sounds like a melody, always soft and gentle.
If it weren't for your dragon, Silverwing, Cregan would never think you are Daemon Targaryen's daughter.
The first few weeks, you were very closed off. Never speak unless you are spoken to. Spent most of your time in your chambers, with work or with your dragon.
So he tries everything to make you feel comfortable in Winterfell. He walks with you through the Goodswood, has your favorite food prepared, makes sure you have enough warm cloaks and dresses. When he introduces you to his son Rickon, he is more nervous than he should be, but your eyes begin to shine as the heir of Winterfell greets you politely, just like Cregan has practiced with him.
On your wedding night he swore to you he would never take you if you didn't want to, he gave you all the power in your marital bed. That night you allowed him to lie with you, he was careful, always aware of your fragility, making sure that you also felt pleasure. After that night you didn't invite him into your bed again. Cregan longs for you, but he would never pressure you.
In your first weeks as Lady Stark you spend a lot of time with Winterfells Measter, ask a lot of questions, slowly working your way into your duties as Lady Stark. Cregan quickly notices that you are well prepared for the role of a Lady of a Great House in Westeros, but Winterfell is unlike other castles. You surprise him by quickly get used to it.
The moon hasn´t passed fully since your wedding, when he finds you one day in Rickon's chambers. You are sitting on the floor with his son and play with wooden soldiers, Rickon is telling a fantasy story and you are encouraging him. Cregan's heart swells slightly at the sight.
He clears his throat to get your attention, you flinch violently, when you look up at him you look like a deer.
You get to your feet immediately, surprisingly elegant despite your hectic behavior. "My Lord." you say and lower your head in front of him. A gesture that he couldn't drive out of you.
"My Lady. What are you doing here?"
"We're playing papa." Rickon intervenes without being asked. "Are you playing with us?"
"Unfortunately, I can't today, I have duties to attend to. I just wanted to check on you, my boy."
"I'm fine, father. We're playing great. I have so much fun." he holds up his favorite woodknight.
"Then I don't want to disturb you any further." he smiles at his son, nods to you and then leaves the children's cambers again. His Lords are already waiting for him.
In the evening you come to his chambers, standing uncertainly in his room. Cregan was not expecting you anymore, he has already changed for the night. He offers you a mug of warm beer and a place by the fireplace. As you sit down your cloak slips and the white of your nightgown flashes through. Cregan has to concentrate not to let his gaze wander.
"What brings you to me so late, my wife?" he asks curiously, sitting next to you at the fire.
"I'm sorry." you don´t look him in the eyes.
Cregan has to blink a few times, doesn't understand what you mean. But you don't say anything else, avoid his gaze so that he has to ask. "What are you sorry about?"
"I didn't mean to upset you." your hands play with the fabric of your cloak.
"You didn't upset me, wife. What makes you think that?" he asks, confused. Did he behave differently? Did he speak in a too harsh tone with you?
"Today with Rickon. It upset you that I played with him. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I have no intention of replacing his mother, your late wife."
Cregan has to suppress a laugh. How wrong you are. "It didn't upset me, sweet wife." his voice is soft and you finally look him in the eyes. Your eyes are wide, surprised, your lips open slightly. Cregan wants to lean forward and kiss you, but he doesn't. "I'm glad that you're spending time with Rickon. Maybe you can be a mother figure to him someday." he expresses his wish hesitantly.
"I intend to love him as if he were mine." you say, a smile creeping onto your lips. Cregan is brave and reaches for your warm hand, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. You don't pull away and continue speaking. "But he shouldn't forget his mother."
"Don't worry about this, Lady Selina, Lady Darcy and Lady Alys will keep the memory alive."
"The Nursemaids. What does that mean?" you tilt your head slightly, examining him closely. The soft light of the fire catches in your hair and makes your skin glow warmly. Gods you are beautiful. Cregan has to swallow before he can answer.
"They were my late wife's friends, her Ladies. After Arra died, I asked them to stay in the household to look after Rickon." remembering how overwhelmed Cregan suddenly was by everything, and how much the loss of his first wife hurt him, he needs a moment to ground himself before he can continue speaking. "If that bothers you, then of course I can dismiss them and send them away from Winterfell."
He knows that this loss will hurt Rickon, he has been surrounded by the three Ladies his whole life, Selina was Arra's best friend. However he would do it for you, he wants you to feel comfortable and Rickon would get over the loss of his nannies, he is a Starkman after all, one day he will be as tough as winter. He has to be.
"No. No, please don't send them away." you squeeze his hand a little. "It is important that her friends are here. They need to tell him what his mother was like. I mean his real mother. My mother also died when I was young. I hardly remember her and I have nobody how can told me something about her." you suddenly sound sad. Cregan is surprised by your words. Additional to the Ladies, he regularly speaks to Rickon about his mother, takes him to her grave, tells stories, has a portrait of her hung in Rickon's room.
"Your father doesn't talk about her?"
You sigh, a narrow smile on your lips. You look into the flames again before speaking quietly. "No, never." you bite your lower lip and then whisper. "I was told he killed her." Cregan doesn't doubt for a second that it is true. He squeezes your hand gently. You look at him again, a sad smile on your lips. "It hurts when you don't know your mother. It's like half of yourself is missing. And my other half is a monster. I'm glad Rickon is learning about his mother and that his father isn't a monster."
A lump forms in Cregan's throat, he doesn't know what to say. Your words touch him, but at the same time make him angry at your father and he feels sorry for you. Your life doesn't seem to have been particularly bright.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that."
"Thank you. But I don't need your pity." for the first time, Cregan feels like he sees the dragon blood in your eyes. "My stepmothers both treated me as if I were their own blood. I didn't grow up without love."
"I didn't mean to offend you."
"You didn't." your gentle smile is back on your lips. "So I can take care of Rickon?" you avoid his gaze again, your cheeks are slightly red.
"Of course. I'm glad you're getting along well."
"He's great. A good boy." you smile and then get up elegantly from your chair. "I'm retiring now. Good night husband."
"Good night sweet wife." he sinks into a slight curtsy before leaving his chambers. Cregan takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair. He's happy that you want to take care of Rickon. That you want to be a part of his family. This is something he wanted for this marriage, that you can be a family.
Cregans efforts take fruits. He has the feeling that you are slowly thawing and starting to trust him.
A light summer snow falls down and gets caught in the fur of your hood. Cregan has take you for a ride through the Wolfswood today. Cregan is surprised how well you can hold yourself in the saddle. In the next moment, he doubts his sanity. You are riding a dragon. Such a horse is of course easy for you. You look around with wide eyes and a gentle smile on your face. Cregan can't help but stare at you, captivated by your beauty.
"I missed that at Dragonstone." you say, looking over to him. Cregan flinches slightly, doesn't quite understand what you mean.
"Forests?" he guesses. He has no idea about Dragonstone's vegetation.
"No. To see something new. Dragonstone is an island, if you live there long enough, you've seen everything." you shrug your shoulders.
Cregan has to chuckle slightly. "You have a dragon, sweet Wife. You could have seen the whole world."
"I would never have left my family." you say firmly. Are you angry?
"I didn't mean to offend you." he tries to circle back. He is always a bit unsure when he talks to you. He wants you to feel comfortable, that you are doing well, and he wants you to like him. Maybe someday you will love him. He finds it hard to be patient. If he is honest with himself, you had him from the very first moment. Your beauty overwhelmed him, your kindness and gentleness captivated him, and your smile. Gods, your smile makes his heart beat faster.
He knows that he loves you. Even if he can't tell you. Not yet. He is afraid of scaring you. So he holds back. He tries to give you space so you can get used to your new role, your new home, and him.
He would love to scream his feelings for you from the wall so that the whole world hears it.
But it is not the right time for that yet.
A soft smile is on your lips again. "You didn´t husband."
He is relieved and returns your smile. "Do you want to go back? It's a little cold today."
"I'm not cold. I'm from the blodd of the Dragon. The cold doesn't bother me. It´s almost like I belong in the north." in the next moment your eyes widen and you look down. A blush spreads across your cheeks and Cregan has to swallow, his heart skips a beat.
"You are Lady Stark. You belong to Winterfell now." he says, trying to take away your insecurity. You don't look at him again, but he sees a smile on your lips. Maybe you'll even belong to him someday. He hopes so.
Back in Winterfell, you let him help you off your horse. His hands stay on your hips for a moment too long, but you don't seem to mind. You look up at him, your cheeks turn slightly red but you manage to hold his gaze. Cregan drowns into your beautiful, violet eyes. He leans forward slightly, wanting to feel your lips on his even if it's only for a moment. You don't back away.
"Papa." Rickon's voice echoes across the courtyard. Cregan and you flinch apart. He lets go of you and turns to his son. Anger flares up in him briefly at the disturbance, but when his boy jumps into his arms with a broad laugh, it immediately disappears.
"Rickon! Don't be so wild." Lady Darcy comes running out of the castle after him. Cregan notices you shifting your weight from one foot to the other next to him, out of the corner of his eye he sees you turning to your horse. A strange feeling spreads through him. At that moment Lady Darcy comes to him, opens her arms to take Rickon. "My Lord Stark, welcome back," she greets him and curtsies slightly.
"Papa, can I visit the dragon? Darcy says it's too dangerous alone, but you're back now," his son calls excitedly. Cregan's stomach tighten, he keeps himself as far away from Silverwing as possible. He is not comfortable with the monster. Even if there have been no problems so far, your dragon only hunts prey, stays away from people and the farmers' livestock. She usually flies further north, you told him that she has a cave there.
"I think that's a bad idea." Dracy interjects. "The monster is unpredictable, far too dangerous."
Cregan thinks for a moment, of course the nursemaid is right, Silverwing is dangerous. But you know your dragon better. You will certainly be able to judge whether your dragon poses a danger to Rickon or not. He turns to you to ask if it's okay for you to go visit your dragon with him and Rickon, but you are no longer standing next to your horse. His gaze searches the yard, but there is no trace of you. You sneaked away quietly and secretly. Cregan's eyebrows furrow.
"Papa, please, please. I promise I won't pet the dragon either. Just a quick look."
"My lady wife must go with you, Rickon. But she seems to have other things to do today. Another time."
Rickon's lower lip trembles slightly, but he knows better and doesn't burst into tears. The heir of Winterfell doesn't cry over such little things as a denied wish.
"What important things Lady Stark must have to do." Cregan is surprised by Dracy's bitter tone, but he pushes the thought away; perhaps he simply misunderstood her.
The Maester warned him that summer could soon be over. It has been summer for four years now. That means more work for Cregan as Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, he has to make sure that his people survive this winter, at least most of them. Winter demands his victims, every damn time. Cregan can only keep the losses as small as possible. So he sinks into paperwork and negotiations with the Lords of the North. Nobody wants to share supplies, everyone is afraid that there won't be enough for themselves. Cregan's tasks is it to find compromises. He would much rather spend his time with you, he longs for you, for your gentle smile, your kind words, the time you have spend together. He wonders if you miss him too?
He only ever gets brief glimpses of you, when you meet in the hallway you give him a smile, when he makes it to the hall for dinner you are usually already sitting there with Rickon, greet him friendly and assure him that you are happy to see him.
Cregan is on his way to a meeting with the carpenter. The houses in Winter Town need to be made winterproof and the villagers need his help. As he walks across the gallery that spans one of the courtyards of Winterfell, your laughter pulls him out of his stride. He stops immediately and turns his head towards the noise.
You and Rickon run across the courtyard, playing catch. His little boy jumps back and forth in front of you, laughing loudly. You let him win, pretending you have trouble catching him.
Lady Selina steps beside him. Her lips are drawn into a thin line.
"My Lord." she slightly bows her head before him and Cregan smiles faintly, he finds it hard to take his eyes off you and Rickon.
"What can I do for you?" he asks and hopes that it's nothing urgent. He's considering canceling the meeting and taking you and Rickon to the Goodswood instead, where you can spend time together as a family without being disturbed.
"I am worried, My Lord." now she has his full attention. His shoulders tense up.
"What happened?" Unrest among the lords, a fight? The servants usually know this things before he does.
Selina gives him a smile. "Nothing happen, My Lord."
He breathes a sigh of relief. "What troubles you then?" Cregan tries not to sound as annoyed as he is. Selina knows that he has a lot to do at the moment. Neverless for the sake of the love he had for his first wife, he always tries to be friendly, even though Selina can often be irritating. Sometimes she takes herself more important than she is, behaves like the Lady of Winterfell, and Cregan has had to remind her of her position more than once.
"It's your new wife, My Lord." she starts, her smile is friendly, doesn't really fit her tone. At the mention of you his heart beats faster, he just has to think of you and he feels like a little boy with a crush. Seeing you makes him float on cloud nine. Cregan turns back to the side and looks down at you again. The broad smile on his lips is unusual for the young Lord.
"We can be glad that she is here with us." his voice is gentle. He has to clear his throat and straightens his shoulders. He quickly slips back into his role as Lord Stark, not the lovesick idiot.
"Can we?" the sharp tone makes Cregans skin crawl. He furrows his eyebrows, turns around. Lady Selina does not flinch from his gaze, but straightens her shoulders. She is a northern woman, intimidation does not work on her. She is like him, hard as winter, unyielding as the wind.
"Is there something you wish to tell me, Lady Selina?"
"No, my Lord. It's just that I… we think that a southern girl might be too weak for the important task of being Lady of Winterfell." she chooses her words carefully, smiling. "I´m only thinking about Rickon and his upbringing. I want the best for him, you know that."
The mention of his son causes his anger at Lady Selina to evaporate. Of course she is only thinking of his son, she wants the best for him. Loves him like her own child.
"My wife is a princess, a Targaryen. She does her job well. Or have you heard something else?"
"No, of course not." Lady Selina lowers her head slightly, no longer looking at Cregan. "I'm just worried about Rickon."
"I really appreciate your concern and care for my son. But your doubts are unfounded. Now if you would excuse me."
"Of course, my Lord." She clenches her jaw and sinks into a curtsy. Cregan walks past her to finally meet the carpenter, he is already too late.
Negotiations with the lords are going badly, Cregan is buried in work and doesn't know what to do. The sun has long set but sleep does not come to him. Instead he sits by the fireplace in his chambers, the taste of beer on his lips and stares into the flames. He sighs. He needs help. Could you give him some advice? That would kill two birds with one stone, he could finally spend some time with you again and maybe find a solution. Without thinking twice he calls for his servant and sends for you.
It doesn't take long before you enter his chambers. You look around uncertainly, you have thrown a cloak over your nightgown, your long blonde hair falls loosely over your shoulders. You are sight for sore eyes.
"My Lord husband," you whisper, curtsying deeper than usual. You slowly take a few steps into the room and stop in the middle. You tremble slightly, your breathing is faster than usual and your hands fumble with the hem of your nightgown. "You ordered me into your bed." your voice trembles as you take a step towards his bed.
Cregans heart sinks, he is on his feet in a heartbeat. You flinch. "My sweet wife, no. I told you I would never do that." he says quickly. It was stupid of him, of course you would think he was ordering you into the marital bed.
"Oh I just thought. Because some time has passed since our wedding night. I thought you might be impatient."
"No. I just wanted to discuss something with you. Please sit down next to me." he points to the chair in front of the fireplace. The fire gives off pleasant heat, sweat forms on Cregan's forehead. However, you are shaking slightly. Cregan reaches for his cloak and puts it around your shoulders before sitting down himself again.
You smile. "Thank you husband." you whisper.
"I'm sorry about the misunderstanding. I just thought you might be able to offer me some advice."
You smile again and Cregan is happy about it. "I don't know if my advice is really useful."
He has to suppress a snort at your modesty. You handle your duties as Lady Stark flawlessly.
"I'm sure it is. And besides that, well." he interrupts himself, noticing the blush rising in his cheeks. "I've hardly had any time for you in the last few days. I'm sorry about that too. I wanted to spend time with you."
Your smile widens. "I've missed the time with you too." you whisper and Cregan's heart starts racing. You missed him. You shift back and forth, making yourself comfortable. "How can I help?"
He starts to describe the problems to you, the stubbornness of his lords, the lying about their supplies even though he knows full well that they have more than they admit. The arguments among themselves.
"Can't you force them to give up some of their stock?" you ask after listening carefully.
This time Cregan snorts, leans back a little in his chair. "And how am I supposed to do that?" Inciting Bannerman against Bannerman would only make things worse.
"Silverwing could help."
"No!" his tone is sharp, his voice too loud for the pleasant atmosphere. You flinch in shock, look at him with wide eyes before avoiding his gaze again.
You swallow. "I'm sorry. It was just an idea. My father always uses Caraxes to get his way." you whisper. Cregan leans forward, reaches for your hand. His heart stops while he waits to see if you pull your hand away. You don't, his fingers carefully wrap around yours.
"Using your Dragon would fulfill the purpose, but I don't want to intimidate my men with her. I don't want to rule with fire and blood."
You nod. "I understand. It was stupid of me."
"No." he shakes his head and gently strokes the back of your hand. "I just hope for a peaceful solution."
You straighten up a little. "Then let's look for a peaceful solution." You both start to brainstorm, but your conversation quickly drifts off. You talk about your childhood in Pentos, your days on Dragonstone and your siblings. Cregan manages to open up about his uncle, how he had to fight for his inheritance and for his rule.
It's good to be able to tell you all this, to have someone to confide in. Only when you yawn after every word and Cregan has trouble opening his eyes again after blinking do you decide to end the evening.
"I'm going back to my chambers then." you say and pull his cloak off your shoulders.
"I'll call a guard for you."
"No, please don't wake anyone up. I'll find the way myself," you say, but your look is uncertain. Cregan also has a bad feeling about letting you walk through half of Winterfell at night.
"Then I'll accompany you."
"Please, husband, don't make yourself so much trouble because of me. You're exhausted yourself and it's an unnecessary journey for you." you object.
Cregan looks at his bed, it's big enough for both of you. Arra has also spent most of her nights here.
"You could sleep here?" he suggests quietly. Your eyes dart to the bed and then to him. You swallow. "Not to fulfill your marital duties, just to sleep." Cregan quickly clarifies.
"What will people think?"
He has to suppress a laugh. "You're my wife, my lady. The people won't think anything."
Your cheeks turn slightly red again. "Right." you think for a moment and then pull your own cloak from your shoulders. Cregan has to look into the flames so that his gaze doesn't get stuck on the curves of your cleavage and he stares like an iron born. Only after you get comfortably under the furs and blankets of the bed he slips off his own clothes and lies down next to you, keeping a safe distance.
"Sleep well, sweet wife."
"Sleep well, husband."
When Cregan wakes up the next morning, you've already disappeared, but your side of the bed is still warm. He turns to the side, buries his face in your pillow and inhales your scent deeply. Cregan knows that you prefer to fly with Silverwing in the morning, so he doesn't worry.
He's tired, but he still throws himself into work.When he returns to his chambers late that evening, you are already sitting in the chair by the fireplace. You turn to him, your cheeks red, but you look him in the eyes. Your hands shake slightly as you hand him a cup of wine.
"I got it from Pentos. I told you about it yesterday." He nods. He's still surprised that you're sitting here, he can hardly believe it. Warmth flows through him and he can't wipe the smile from his lips. He slowly takes your wine and sits down opposite you. "We didn't find a solution to our problem with the Lords yesterday." if you plan to come to him in the evening until you've found a solution, he wish there wasn't one.
Three evenings later you are sleeping in his bed again, two weeks later you snuggle up in his arms before you go to sleep and in the morning you kiss his cheek before you set off to see your dragon. Cregan can hardly believe his luck. You open up a little more every day, now you reach for his hand yourself, brush strands of hair from his face, kiss his cheek, lean into his embrace.
But suddenly you start to close yourself off again. It started with you not waiting for him in his chambers one evening, you send a servant to excuse you for that night. He thought you might be sick. But you don't come the next day either, he doesn't see you all day. In the morning he sees Silverwing flying over Winterfell towards the south, the sun is already hanging low on the horizon in the evening when the dragon lands again in front of the castle gates. Cregan feels like you're slipping away from him again. His heart aches at the thought. Did he do something wrong? Was he rude to you without realizing it? Was the longed-for closeness you built up just in his head?
Neverless Cregan was able, or rather you were able, to settle the arguments between the Lords a little. From your place at the high table, you reminded them in a gentel voice that everyone only wanted the best for the North and how wonderful it is that the Northern Lords were fighting the winter together. A little lie that you told, a smile and even Lord Bolton's tense features softened. It's a step in the right direction.
You hardly give him a smile anymore. Cregan doesn't know what's wrong. He is frustrated and sad. In his mind he goes through every moment, looking to see if he has done something wrong. He doesn´t find an answer.
His steps lead him through the corridors of Winterfell, he wants to go to Rickon. Because of all the work and his spiraling thoughts about you, he hasn't visited his son much in the last few days.
He hears laughter from the nursery, recognizes Lady Selina and Lady Aly's voices. Without knocking, he opens the door. The two ladies flinch at their place in front of the fireplace, the conversation falls silent. They both jump up, curtsy briefly and greet him with a "My Lord Stark." Both Ladys exchange a nervous look, Creggan's stomach tightens. He has the feeling that something is wrong but he doesn´t know what it is.
"Papa." Rickon jumps up from the carpet, his toy dragon falls to the floor and he runs to him. Cregan bends down to his son and takes him in his arms.
"Leave us alone," he dismisses the ladies. He wants to spend a little time with his son, show him that he is important to him despite all the stress. Rickon should never think that his father doesn't love him. Alys and Selina leave the nursery. Cregan puts Rickon down again and sits down on the floor next to him. Rickon immediately has his toy figures in his hand again.
"Are you coming to play?" he asks and holds out the dragon figure to him, big eyes sparkle at him and a radiant smile is on his lips.
"Yes." Cregan answers and takes the dragon, it looks small in his hand.
"That's my favorite toy."
"Not the knight anymore?" Cregan laughs quietly.
"No, no." says Rickon in a serious voice, as if it were the most important thing in the world. "The dragon. It was a gift from my princess."
Now Cregan can't hold back his laughter. "Your princess?"
"Yes." Rickon nods.
"You mean my wife, my dear. You really like her a lot, don't you?"
"Yes, I like her a lot." suddenly his eyes turn sad and he rips the toy out of his father's hand, pressing it to his chest. Cregan frowns, wants to scold Rickon, but he is already speaking again. "But she doesn't like me anymore." his voice trembles. Cregan has to swallow at the sight, puts a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Why do you think that? She likes you a lot."
"But why doesn't she play with me anymore? She hardly ever comes to visit me. Only when the teacher is there. She doesn't want to play with me at all, she just wants to supervise my lessons." he sounds defiant, as only children can, and Cregan has to sigh. He doesn´t have a answer for his son.
Why are you behaving like this? You wanted to take care of him and you enjoyed it. You often told him how much you enjoyed spending time with his son, what a good boy he is. That you love him like he is your son. Cregan has a bad feeling. He knows that something is wrong, even if he can't quite put his finger on it.
The door opens and you step uncertainly into the room, your gaze wanders around the room and then stops at Cregan and Rickon. A radiant smile appears on your face.
"My Lord husband." you say and nod slightly. Cregan is glad that you have finally stopped curtsying to him. "I didn't know you were here." Is he imagining it or do you sound relieved? Cregan doesn't know how to react to you now. Lately you have been acting absent and distant, shy like at the beginning. At other times you grab his hand, lean on his arm or smile at him with sparkling eyes when he speaks. He can't figure you out. "Can I sit with you?" you whisper, tearing him out of his thoughts. He nods and you sink down onto the carpet next to him and Rickon. His son immediately demands your attention, happy that you want to spend time with him.
It takes a few moments, but then Cregan lets himself be lulled by the warm, happy atmosphere. In these moments he completely forgets the thought of you withdrawing from him again. The time with his family is good for him, that is exactly what he always wanted. A happy family, safe behind the walls of Winterfell.
However his little bubble of family happiness bursts just a few hours later when Lady Darcy enters.
"My Lord Stark." she curtsies to him. "I'm here to pick up Rickon for his bath."
"No, I don't want to!" Rickon calls out. A single stern look from Cregan is enough to silence him. He stands up and takes a few steps towards Darcy. "Can my princess take me to my bath?" he asks quietly. Darcy rolls his eyes, looks at you, just like Cregan. You look at Dracy and then shake your head.
"Go with Lady Darcy." you say quietly, is your voice shaking? Rickon doesn't contradict and follows the nursemaid out of the room. Cregan turns to you with a smile, maybe you two can finally spend a little time toghether again, but you don't meet his gaze. When he reaches for your hand, you pull it away and jump up.
"Excuse me." your voice is quiet and you storm out of the room. Were those tears in your eyes? Cregan shakes his head, no, that can't be. The light was probably just reflected. He sighs and tries to fight down his anger and hurt because of your rejection.
He paces back and forth in his chambers. You haven't shown up for your evening meeting again. What's keeping you away? He just has to talk to you, he wants to find out what is bothering you. Did he make a mistake? Worry spreads through him and he sets off to look for you. His steps quickly lead him up the many stairs to Lady Stark's chambers.
Your chambers lie deserted before him. Cregans heart sinks. Where are you? It's almost midnight. You should be here. Did something happen to you? He is looking around your chambers. The chambers of Lady Stark are traditionally located at the top of the North Tower. They are the warmest chambers in the castle. Perfect for a dragon like you. Sweat beads on Cregan's forehead, yet he searches the chambers for a clue.
He feels guilty about looking at your private things, but he has no choice. Maybe you are in danger. Nothing seems unusual. To be honest, he can't be sure, he is hardly ever in your chambers. It is your private area, but it seems as if you only have a few things here. That surprises Cregan a little.
He goes to your desk, it is covered with papers, scrolls and letters. He knows that you write a lot to your family, and that you receive a letter from at least one of your family members almost every week. Only your father doesn't write to you, you told him that.
His gaze flicks over the first line of the letter you had started.
Mother, please. It's so terrible here.
He reads the first words and his heart aches painfully. Is it his fault? Do you hate him?
My husband Cregan is everything I could wish for, kind, tender, and warm; he has such a big heart. I love him. But the problem are the maids of the late Lady Stak. I wrote to you that it doesn't seem like they like me. But now it's getting worse.
I tried to take care of Rickon. Just like you always took care of Baela, Rhena, and me. He is such a sweet boy. But the Ladies are so terribly mean. I know they were Lady Norrey's friends, but I don't understand how they can be so horrible. What did I do wrong? I don't understand how I could have upset them so much that they hate me.
They say terrible things to me, I don't want to repeat them. Even bad things about our family. The insults hurt so much. The worst thing is when they laugh at me. I feel so stupid when they do that.
I don't want Rickon to find out about this, so I stay away from him. It breaks my heart. I'm afraid to talk to Cregan. I don't want them to lose their last connection to Lady Arra.
Please, I can't take it anymore. I want to go home. Please let me come home.
On the pages, there are small dark spots where your tears have dripped onto the paper and smudged the ink.
Why didn't you tell him anything? Guilt overcomes him. He should have known, he should have noticed something.
Hot anger towards the Ladies rises within him. He would love to have them all executed.
A growl catches his attention. With two steps, he is at the window. The full moon illuminates the night outside, the snow reflects the light. He sees a slender figure walking across the fields outside the Keep. Silverswing's massive body rises from the snow as you run towards your dragon.
Cregan whirls around and sprints down the stairs. Fear and worry burn in his heart. He pushes the door outward a little too hard. The wood creaks as it slams against the stone walls. Every breath burns in his lungs as he inhales the cold air. Nevertheless, his steps do not slow down.
Silverwing whirls her head around before you notice him. At the sudden movement, you slip and one of the bags you were just about to attach to the saddle falls from your hand. A few of your clothes fall into the snow. Cregan realizes that you really were about to run away. Run away from him. His heart hurts by this thought. The next moment he remembers himself that you are not running away because of him.
He calls your name. You whirl around, your look like a startled deer.
"Cregan." you whisper. He recognizes tears in your eyes, tear stains on your cheeks, your eyes are slightly red
"What are you doing?" he asks, while he tries to catch his breath. Cregan tries to let his voice sound as soft as possible, you already look like you will faint for fear every moment.
"I wanted to visit Silverwing," you lie, your hands cramps around the leather of the saddle. Silverwing lets out a growl. Cregan needs all his strength not to jump back in fright.
"Please come down." he almost begs, he stands much too close to the dragon for his liking. Silverwing is very gentle. You once told him that. Nevertheless, the hundred-year-old monster can swallow him in one gulp.
You hesitate. "Go back inside," you say then, but you don't look at him.
"No." his voice is firm now. "Either you come down voluntarily or I'll come up and get you." it's not a bluff, if he has to he'll climb on that dragon to get you down. Even if Silverwing will probably tear him into pieces before he even gets close to you.
Silverwing stretches out her wing, the claws on her forefoot digging into the snow just a few steps in front of him. Is that a threat? You look at your dragon, then swing to the side and slide down the wing. Without thinking, Cregan moves closer and catches you. You wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer to him. Warm tears drip onto the skin at the crook of his neck. You sob, take a breath and try to say something, but only another desperate sound comes from your throat.
"I found your letter to the Queen." he admits. You tense up, wanting to pull away from him, but Cregan holds you tight. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I didn't want you to be angry."
Oh he is angry, but not at you. He would love to cut off the ladies' heads, but women are not executed in the North. The North is still a place of honor.
Now he lets go of you, pushes away slightly to look you in the face. He carefully wipes the tears from your cheek. You lean into his touch, sighs quietly and closes your eyes. Cregan leans forward and kisses your forehead.
"What did they say to you?" he then whispers.
You swallow, open your eyes before you start to speak. "At first it was just little taunts. But over time it got worse and worse. They said I would ruin the North, that many people would die next winter because of my stupidity." the tears come back to you eyes and you have to sob. Cregan pulls you into his arms again, strokes your hair as you bury your face in his chest.
"Those are lies. You did nothing wrong. On the contrary, you are a great Lady Stark."
"But that wasn't even the worst part. They also said that I am not good enough for you. That you only put up with me because you were forced to marry me. They said that you will never love me and that there is only room in your heart for Lady Arra, that she is your first and only love and I am just an intruder."
Cregan's heart breaks, he knows that you took the Nursemaids at their word. Again he pushes you away, carefully puts his hand under your chin and forces you to look at him.
"Those are lies too. Yes, I loved Arra. But that doesn't mean that I can't love you. You are not an intruder. I want you here with me."
Tears well up in your eyes again. "What about the Ladies?" you ask quietly, but keep eye contact.
"I will throw all three of them out first thing tomorrow morning. Let the Others get them, I don't care. Maybe Silverwing wants a little snack."
The dragon lowers its head to you, looks at Cregan as if she agrees.
"Rickon needs them."
"No. Rickon only needs me and you, his family." Cregan insists. His son will cope with the loss, he is sure of that.
"I would like to be your family."
Cregan has to smile at your words. "I love you, sweet wife." he whispers. Your lips open slightly as you look at him in surprise. Then you stand on your tiptoes and kiss him gently. His heart almost burst, butterflies explode in his stomach and despite the cold night he feels warm.
You sink back on your feet, your cheeks are red, but you smile. Silverwing blows hot air from her nostrils towards Cregan, he flinches back and you giggle.
"That means she likes you."
"And what about you? Do you like me too?" he asks, his lips twisting into a grin.
"I thought you read my letter to Rhaenyra." you say, also grinning."
Please say it anyway."
"I love you, my sweet husband." Cregan leans down and seals your lips with a kiss.
#cregan stark x you#cregan x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon fic#cregan stark fanfic#house stark#hotd fic#cregan stark fanfiction#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark request#house of the dragon#hotd
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Could you do "baby bat" where a killer tried to kill Bruce Wayne's youngest son when I saw that all the media and the family loved him but Titus was sleeping in his room and saw him and bit him to save the baby
Sure can. Oh Titus the good boy is coming to save the little baby.
Summary: Titus is a good boy who loves (Y/N). And is very protective.
Warnings: Breaking in, Titus protecting (Y/N), so there will be aggression from Titus, but in defense of (Y/N), everyone is protective
Bruce gently cradled (Y/N) in his arms, trying to soothe him so that he could go to sleep. (Y/N) was an easy baby and when fed he would be docile and just sleepy as hell. Bruce loved that about his boy. (Y/N) was the youngest one out of all the siblings and Bruce was taking care of him since his mother passed away.
Everyone stepped up to take care of (Y/N). Dick loved nothing more than to soothe (Y/N) to sleep. It was his favorite thing in the whole wide world. And feeding him was great too. Dick just loved his baby brother too much.
Jason would jump in too, he would simply talk to (Y/N) about stuff or simply played with his stuffed animals. Seeing (Y/N) giggle and move around excitedly. Jason more often than not fed him whenever necessary, since he wanted to be closer to his brother.
Tim, despite loving his brother to bits, was more often than not afraid to hold (Y/N). So, Tim showed love in another way. By buying baby things, such as toys, clothes and other necessities and making sure that the security system in place is at the top of its game.
And Damian?
He loved (Y/N) a lot, considering the fact that he was a baby and the fact that (Y/N) made Damian feel protective beyond belief, since he is the weakest one out of the family. And he also allowed Titus to spend time with the baby, under supervision of course. And Titus was a gentle giant when it came to (Y/N).
Despite his tail wagging all around whenever he was around (Y/N), he was always gentle with him, gently licking his hands and sniffing him. It must be the baby smell that everyone likes. He would often follow (Y/N) around and whoever was holding him. Whenever (Y/N) cried, Titus would drag someone by their sleeves.
And since (Y/N) came, at least one person was home and not on patrol, since someone needed to take care of (Y/N). Everyone rotated every day to make sure that (Y/N) was taken care of. It was something they all enjoyed and loved.
And the public went nuts for the youngest Wayne. Bruce made it clear that (Y/N)'s face won't be circulated over the Internet and majority of Gotham agreed. If he was approached by fans, they would ask for photos and make sure that (Y/N)'s face wasn't visible. And then Twitter, known as X, broke. The normally toxic social media app went aww over the stories of meeting Bruce and the little boy.
Of course, no one shared any photos of the boy. There have been attempts, but Bruce shut them down. Alongside his older sons of course. Bruce wasn't afraid to protect his son's privacy. You never know what type of people are lurking around, looking for photos of children. Bruce would be damned if he even gave them ammunition.
Not on his damn watch.
Of course, any enemies of his as Bruce Wayne and not Batman have found a new target within the family. And people with not so good intentions have set their sights on (Y/N). Bruce knew that very well and alongside Tim, made sure that the security system was working.
It was in the middle of the night when Titus woke up. He was sleeping in Damian's room, whoever, Damian was in the Batcave, while Bruce, Dick and Tim were patrolling the streets tonight. Damian and Jason were home to take care of (Y/N). Titus knew that, but there was a scent that he didn't recognize so he got up to investigate.
(Y/N)'s room was not far and the door was open. Titus listened carefully and he heard some noise and off he went to investigate. He knew how (Y/N) sounded, so the noise was weird. He stopped when he saw a man, dressed in all black, with a knife in his hand.
Titus wasted no time.
He ran to the man, biting into the hand that was holding the knife, with all of his might. The man yelled out from pain, waking (Y/N) up who started wailing. Titus was pulling him out of the room and Damian and Jason were running up the hall, with Jason tackling the man and Damian pulling Titus off. Titus did one hell of a job and Damian moved him to the room and took (Y/N) into his arms, trying to soothe him.
" I'm calling GCPD. " Jason punched the man out cold and took his phone out, already dialing 911. Damian gently soothed (Y/N), who after a few minutes calmed down. Damian checked on Titus, whose snout was covered with blood, but otherwise, wasn't harmed. His eyes were trained of (Y/N) and Damian was going to let Titus sniff him as soon as his snout is clean.
" The system went down. They hacked our system. "
Jason sighed at that. That was no small feat. Their house was Pentagon type of secure.
" Tim's going to blow a gasket once he hears that something happened to the system... They must have gotten in when it was rebooted... Bastards... " Jason muttered to himself, crossing his arms. " Is (Y/N) okay? Not hurt? "
" He's fine. Titus saved him... "
Jason nodded, patting Titus' head, telling him he's a good boy for doing it.
" Who's calling Bruce? " Jason asked and Damian sighed as he forgot about them all.
" You are. " Damian said and Jason scoffed as he looked for Bruce's contact in his phone. Yes, they had channels of their comms on their phones, just in case for emergencies.
Jason stepped out to talk to Bruce while Damian turned to his baby brother.
" No one will ever hurt you (Y/N). Titus and the rest of us will make sure of that. Absolutely no one will hurt you. I promise you that. "
Jason stepped back into the room. " They are all on the way, they'll beat GCPD too. So... A plan is in order. "
Once everyone came in and checked on (Y/N), they managed to agree on a story that would convince GCPD. And if Tim and Dick kicked the assassin a few times? GCPD will overlook it. Even the most corrupted police department wouldn't mind if a hitman who tried to kill a baby just died.
But Bruce wanted to know who hired this bastard to kill a literal baby. A baby who can't defend himself. Safe to say, Bruce held his son throughout the talking with the GCPD detectives. Titus was also near Bruce, not wanting to let (Y/N) out of his sights.
" If I were you mister Wayne, I would take the dog to the vet, just in case... " The detective pointed out, clearly seeing the blood on Titus.
" I don't worry about him. He isn't whining or anything and let me tell you, he is one dramatic dog. If his blanket is not the right way on the couch, he gets huffy and whines, " Bruce said and the detective chuckled.
" If you say so mister Wayne... Also, (Y/N) is adorable. Cherish these moments before they turn into toddlers. I can speak from experience. I have 2 boys myself... "
Bruce smiled politely and nodded. Bruce never had that stage with any of his kids, so he didn't know what he was in for.
" A full house? "
" You have no idea. That one will be full of energy, I can see already. And I can promise you, we'll catch the bastard who hired the scumbag. And it's not because of your status. That baby deserves to be safe and sound, " Detective said and Bruce nodded. The two were fathers and a mutual feeling of protection was brewing in both of them.
" Here's my contact info. " The detective tucked to Jason since Bruce's hands were full. " Any questions you might have, feel free to call me, " The detective finished up and Bruce nodded, thanking him.
" No problems mister Wayne. The forensics will stay around for a bit longer to collect the evidence, you know, around the window and the crib. The man is on the way to Gotham general, since the good boy over here did one hell of a job of protecting (Y/N). Once he's patched up, he's going to lock up and await trail, " The detective explained and Bruce nodded, pretending he didn't know anything about how those things went.
" Alright, I need to get going, but anything you might need to ask mister Wayne, please call. "
" Of course, thank you. "
#dc comics#dc x male reader#x male reader#batfamily#bruce wayne x male reader#batman x male reader#jason todd x male reader#red hood x male reader#dick grayson x male reader#nightwing x male reader#tim drake x male reader#red robing x male reader#damian wayne x male reader#robin x male reader
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the one with the role play — gojo satoru
— your husband breaking character during role play after you mention the one thing you shouldn’t have
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suggestive, MDNI, established relationship (you’re married), written with f! reader in mind but think i kept it pretty gn, alcohol (nobody gets drunk, just a super quick mention of it as a choice of drink at the bar), strangers at the bar role play (or a failed attempt tbh), based on this talk post of mine, wc: 1.3k
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“hey, love”, satoru broke the silence while the two of you were folding the laundry one afternoon. (yes, the strongest sorcerer always helps his wife with chores)
“say, love”, you quickly responded, without looking at him.
“you know, i was thinking — we’ve never tried role play”
“that’s what folding clothes made you think of?”, glancing at him you chuckled, “interesting”, raising an eyebrow teasingly.
“we’ve done pretty much everything but that. you’re not curious?”
now was not the time to tell him that you had done this before, with your ex, and that it was fun. no need to remind him that you had other partners before him and make him lose sleep for days to come, like that one time when he found your diary from high school in the attic and read about all the crushes and boyfriends you had. it took weeks and a lot of coddling on your part (you even had to start a satoru only diary and write his name into little hearts) for him to get over it. so you figured you’d keep this little detail to yourself and take it to the grave. or it would be your husband taken to the grave due to lethal jealousy steaming from the fact that another man had laid his hands on you in the past.
“s-sure”, you stuttered, thinking back to that excruciating memory, then cleared your throat before continuing — “yea, we can do that, why not”
“good then”, he tossed the shirt in his hands aside and stepped closer to you. circling his arms around your waist from behind — one hand eventually resting over your chest while the other stopping at your navel and gently rubbing it — he possessively pressed you against his chest and hummed contently.
“someone’s very excited about this, huh?”, you placed your hand over his and tilted your head back to peek at him.
“oh? can you tell?”, he grinned, playfully pushing his hips against you.
“that giant thing in your pants poking me from behind is giving you away, i’m afraid”
“it’s your fault though”, his head craned down so his lips could reach your forehead and trail soft kisses down to the tip of your nose.
standing on your tip toes you raised your hands to cup his cheeks and pecked him on the lips. “of course, it’s my fault that you’re getting all hot and bothered in the middle of the day like some pervert”
“i always get hot and bothered thinking about you”, he pecked you back, then slowly turned you around (concerned that you might hurt your neck if you kept that position up).
“any ideas?”, you asked.
“8pm, the bar around the corner”
“we’re to enact the classic strangers meeting at the bar, huh? okay. anything else?”
“nope, let’s improvise”
[8:13pm, at the bar]
sitting alone on the stool at the bar counter, you kept playing with your now half empty martini glass, drawing circles with it on the surface. you felt a bit weird sitting here pretending to be single and ready to mingle. but oh well.
he was late. you took another sip of your drink and grabbed your phone to check the time again.
“next one’s on me”, a painfully familiar voice approached you from behind. “if you would allow me, that is”
he was late on purpose, you figured. waiting for you to almost finish your drink so he could easily start a conversation by using such a lame but still quite effective line.
“i don’t normally accept drinks from strangers”, you gazed at him, “but an exception every now and then wouldn’t hurt, i assume”
a puckish smile curved on his lips. “may i?”, taking his sunglasses off, he asked for your permission to sit next to you.
“sure”
you were quite impressed at how seriously he was actually taking this, not breaking character even for a second so far. he had made up a brand new persona of himself, introducing himself as “sato kouya” — the ceo of a leading pharmaceutical company, temporarily living in tokyo for the purpose of a big business project.
“enough about me though”, eyes focused on you, he leaned his elbow on the bar counter and placed his chin on his palm. “tell me about yourself — what’s a beauty like you doing alone?”
you giggled (he was just so cute right now). “you’re lucky that i am alone — if we had met a week earlier, i would’ve still been married”
his expression froze at your words. the smile from a few seconds ago was now bleeding into a confused, almost creepy, look on his face — his lips still stretched into a grin while his eyes told a different story.
“hmmm… how so?”, he spoke in a monotone, his grin slowly fading away.
it would be a lie to say his weird reaction didn’t concern you at all but you decided to brush it off, and continued. “you see, i just got officially divorced. my ex husband and i tried our best to keep the marriage going for as long as we could but we were simply not meant to be”, you sighed. “this was the best for both of us”
“no way”, satoru whined. “no fucking way”
“umm… excuse me?”, you tilted your head in confusion.
“i don’t like this”, his face giving you a dejected grimace — brows knitted, lips pursed into a pout and eyes filled with a mix of panic and sorrow taking over the blue in them and turning it into a darker shade. “divorced? not meant to be? don’t even joke about this”, he almost cried out. the thought alone rubbed him the wrong way, tugged at his heartstrings so intensely that it forced him out of character right then and there, putting an end to your little role play escapade (rip sato kouya, you will be missed).
“satoru”, you caressed his hand, “baby. love of my life. this is just an act, please get it together”
“oh”, he gasped in utter shock after his focus fell on your hand and he noticed you were not wearing your ring. “you even took your ring off? why would you do that?”
great, this was getting worse now.
“because of the role play”, you spoke each word slowly, stressing on the last two very carefully.
“but i’m still wearing mine”, he protested, pointing at his ring, “see? you could’ve still acted fine with your ring on and without bringing up divorce and not meant to be’s”, he cried again, a hangdog look splattered on his face.
“i didn’t want to play the cheating wife, that’s why i took it o—“, you were cut off by another dramatic reaction.
“cheating? CHEATING? you considered this scenario?”, his voice was hitting desperate notes at this point. you couldn’t believe he had lost all reason over a play pretend.
you pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke, “okay, that’s enough. you’re being ridiculous right now. i’m going home”
he followed after you like a kicked puppy, whining all the way home. but you had to admit — part of you really loved the fact that he went completely out of his mind over something so silly, that he didn’t know what to do with himself just thinking about you possibly leaving him even in a made-up scenario, that you held so much power over him…
extra:
[later that night, in bed]
done reading for the night and ready to sleep, you placed your book on the nightstand and looked over at your husband sitting with his arms crossed next to you in bed.
“still not over it?”, you nestled your head on his chest.
“no. hurts like hell just thinking about it”, he mumbled.
“come on, stop pouting”, you pinched his cheek, “you can’t go to sleep with a grumpy face”
“yea?”, he glanced down at you, “sit on it then — it’s the only way to wipe that pout off of it”
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Batman Dead Daughter AU part 2
I'm so sorry this took so long, I ment to post this like the day after the first one but I kept getting distracted and didn't have time to write it TwT
Anyways-
We are starting off with Damian after patrol and approaching Bruce
I also realized how my writing is a lot closer to script in the last one, especially with the dialog, and it's something I'll work on
Without further a due: Angst :D
Damian POV:
'This is really unordinary, first a new student in the middle of the year, who looks... similar to Father, but now she's hiding under a bridge? What is going on with that girl. Somethings not right, it's clear there's something she's not telling me, I should be angry, she could be some sort of threat. So why am i not? This isn't anger its.. something else. What even is this feeling? I feel like I know her. One things for certain, she needs help. Maybe I should speak to Father about this. He does have a habit of adopting children.' Damian thinks to himself as he removes his vigilante gear, he decides to approach Bruce and bring up his concerns
"Father." Damian says, commanding his attention away from the computer
"Damian. Is something wrong?" Bruce asks
"I'm not sure, it's about my new friend" Damian says
"Ah yes.... y/n correct?" Bruce asks but his voice waivers as he says her name
"Correct, father. I believe y/n may be in trouble of some kind. As you know she joined the school at an odd time, which is weird enough as it is. However, during patrol, I found her under a bridge. She claimed that she couldn't go home but wouldn't say why. And to make matters even more confusing, she didn't seem to know who I was." Damian explains
"What do you mean? Like she didn't know what a vigilante was? It's possible if she's new to Gotham, unlikely but possible." Bruce says
"No, she wasn't suprised, or confused, she acted as if meeting a vigilante were normal, but she didn't know my name, she seemed to know about vigilantes, but didn't know which one I was." He explained while gesturing to the cases of costumes throughout the years. "She also didn't have anything with her. When I found her, she only had her backpack with school supplies and a few clothes. No blankets or food items, nor any personal belongings. It seems like she hasn't been here for very long, but she's been attending school for a few weeks now." Damian says
Bruce pauses for a moment "That's... odd. Even if someone had recently become homeless, they would have more than just school supplies, especially if they've been living outside." Bruce says mostly to himself before turning back to his son "What are you thinking Damian?" Bruce asks
Damian remains silent for a while before responding, "With your permission, Father, I would like to invite her over after school tomorrow. Perhaps we could learn more then. I heard it's supposed to rain tomorrow as well, and I'd feel bad knowing my friend was out there getting sick." Damian states and waits for a response
"I see. Very well then, you may invite her over, I'll inform Alfred so he will make extra for dinner." Bruce says, calling Alfred in. "In the meantime, you need to turn in for the night, I'll speak with Alfred about tomorrow"
"Very well, goodnight father." Damian says, walking past Alfred
Bruce POV:
"Master Bruce? Are you alright?" Alfred asks having heard the conversation
Bruce doesn't speak for a moment, but eventually, he turns to face the loyal butler
"Alfred I... I don't want to get my hopes up. I know that it's probably just a coincidence, but... when you pick the two of them up tomorrow, I want you to call me immediately and let me know if it... if it's possible.. if it could be -"
"I will Master Bruce. I promise that the moment I am able to confirm, I will let you know." Alfred says
"Thank you Alfred." Bruce says, as he unlocks one of the drawers in his desk, and he pulls own a dusty photo and cleans it, the photo being a photo of him, and his long lost daughter smiling eating icecream
"I know it's... highly unlikely, but would you like me to prepare her favorite? Even if it's not her, I know that you enjoy the meal as well, and it's been awhile, it'd be nice to relive the good memories." Alfred suggests
"That... that would be nice Alfred, thank you." Bruce says before looking at the photo again and putting it away
The next day:
Damian was right, it is raining and by the looks of it, it'll be raining all day, the day begins the same as normal with Damian getting prepared for school, and packing a larger umbrella with him before heading down to breakfast where he finds two of his older brothers
Damian POV:
"Grayson, Drake" Damian greets them
"Hey kid, you got everything you need? It's raining cats and dogs out there" Dick says causing Damian to roll his eyes
"I'm well aware Grayson, I already knew this would happen so I prepared accordingly, even grabbing a larger umbrella to fit us" Damian replies
"Us? Who's us? We aren't going out today" Tim asks
"Us, as in me and my friend, I'm bringing her here after school today. I've already informed Father and Alfred. You two better not freak her out." Damian warns
"Woah, you're bringing a friend home? That's new" Dick says
"You have friends? Like. Real friends? From school?" Tim laughs
"Yes I have friends. What's with the laughter. And whats real friends supposed to mean" Damian snaps
"Well, considering your always calling people peasants it's surprising, not to mention it's someone who's not like us." Tim replies as if it's common knowledge
"What is that supposed to mean. Y/n doesn't have to be like us. We're friends, and that's that. Honestly, we're practically siblings. That's what the people at school say." Damian says. "Oh, and for your information, she may be in a tough situation right now. I don't yet know the details, but something is up, so when she gets here, you guys better not say anything suspicious, got it?" Damian basically orders before he walks away to head to school.
"Y/n? Huh..." Dick mutters to himself
"What is it? You know this person?" Tim asks
"No no it's just... I swear I've heard that name before." Dick says almost serious
At school, y/n pov:
'Okay, y/n, there's no need to panic just yet. No one's said anything, so he didn't tell anyone. What do I say if he brings it up? It happened while in the suit, so he probably won't approach it as himself, but what if he does? Or if he asks me about home? What do I do if he asks me about my parents? I need to think of a plan. Dad always has plans, but what do I even do? I can't just go up to the manor and explain who I am. It's been..' y/n pauses to do math but fails 'it's been an unknown amount of years, it's possible more things have changed than what I can tell. It's possible they won't even remember me, or they could think I was some sort of clone like in a Sci fi movie. I don't know anything for certain yet, so I have to play it safe... even if it hurts'
Y/n braces herself, thoughts of things that could go wrong still swirling about in her mind, but she can't think about that now, she has classes to attend.
Damian arrives to class and greets her like normal, she holds back her sigh of relief knowing that it's probably because it was 'Robin' that she talked to last night, she's seen her dad shift between personas before and if he learned from him then he won't mention a thing about what happened.
The two start talking about homework, which y/n suddenly realizes she didn't do, but before she can worry about it, the teacher speaks up
"Good morning class, today's going to be a bit different as we're starting a new project and for this you'll need to work in pairs, so before anything, everyone needs to go around and get into pairs and then when that's done I'll start handing out information on the project and explain what it is."
"Y/n? Would you like to work on this project together?" Damian asks
"Sure, we work together on some stuff already so this should be a peice of cake" y/n replies
"Perfect, we can work on it at my place after school as well, speaking of which, would you like to come over today? It's Friday, and I was thinking we could have a uh... sleepover. There's lots of stuff we could do, and it'll be easier to find time for the project that way and you could stay for the whole weekend" Damian asks, hoping to convince his friend without sounding weird. But he can't stand the idea of her being outside all weekend, especially with Gothams weather.
"Oh! Sure I would love to come over for a sleep over it sounds like a lotta fun!" Y/n replies, trying to hold back her excitement 'oh my god this works out perfectly. Now I can see what's changed, maybe I can talk to dad, I hope he's okay, this'll let me find out if he remembers me or not. I'll finally have Alfred's cooking again!' Y/n thinks to herself
"Good good, I'll have our bulter Pennyworth pick us up straight after school. We have a library in the manor so we don't need to use the schools library, oh and just a warning, my brothers are probably going to be at the manor as well, just ignore them, they're fools." Damian says
'There's more of them?!' Y/n thinks to herself, trying to hide her shock, but Damian notices anyways but he doesn't say anything about it.
"Alright class, now that everyone is partnered up I'll explain the project, this one will take a few weeks so listen up" the teacher says, gathering everyone's attention and explains the project
They spend the rest of class working on the project, writing notes, and during breaks they talk about what they're going to do at the manor, Damian discovers y/n knows even less movies than he does so they decide they could have a movie marathon when they first get there.
Before they know it, school is over and it's time to head out. Just as Damian said, Alfred comes to pick them up right after school, and parks somewhere where the rain isn't as intense.
"Hello Pennyworth, this is Y/n." Damian introduces the two noticing the pale look on Alfred's face just like he had when he first mentioned Y/n
"Hello, thank you for picking us up Alfred!" Y/n says, happy to see Alfred again after all this time, though a bit shocked to see how white his hair has gotten, but otherwise he looks the same. She too sees the pale in his face, but is still too nervous to say anything.
"Of course miss Y/n" He says, while getting into the car "If you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make while we head to the manor, so I'll put the sound dividers up, in the mean time the two of you can pick what music you wish to listen to during the drive" Alfred says
"Alright, here y/n, we can listen to almost any song with this" Damian says
As the two begin to look through the music, Alfred sinks into the sea as he processes what he's seen. Could it really be Y/n?
Alfred pov:
He takes a moment to compose himself, he has a cold sweat, but he calms himself and calls Bruce
The phone feels like it rings forever before Bruce answers
"Hello Alfred, any news?" Bruce asks, for he was waiting for this call ever since Alfred left
"It's her Master Bruce. It has to be. She looks exactly the same as she did before. She sounds the same, too, I froze for a moment, but neither of them addressed it." Alfred says
"Are you sure? Did she say anything?" Bruce asks
"She didn't say much. However, when Damian introduced us, he referred to me as Pennyworth as he always does, yet Y/n referred to me as Alfred, regardless. Her eyes were unmistakable, even if it were someone who looked like her, those eyes, I would never forget them." Alfred says
"I see. Come get me once you arrive at the manor, we need to discuss how were going to go about this, see what she knows and confirm everything for sure." Bruce replies
"Of course Master Bruce, we'll be their shortly" Alfred informs him
The drive passes quickly and they arrive at the manor, quickly getting in as the rain pours harder and harder. Alfred takes their umbrellas and coats
"Alright, I have some business to attend to, but I shall make dinner shortly. Feel free to do whatever you wish in the meantime, but stick together, wouldn't want anyone to get lost." Alfred says side eyeing Y/n
"No need to worry, Pennyworth. I've memorized the layout of the manor. We will be heading to the theater first, you may find us there when dinner is ready." Damian states
"Wow, you weren't kidding, you actually brought a friend," two voices call out, causing Damian to scowl
"Grayson, Drake." Damian turns to the approaching duo."Y/n, these are my older brothers and nuecences. Who have apparently decided to bother us." Damian says
"Awe, don't be like that, Dames. we just wanna meet our baby brothers new... friend, " Dick says, meeting Y/n's gaze "Anyways- the names Dick Grayson, pleasure to meet you" he introduces himself before elbowing the boy next to him to stop his stareing
"Ow- oh uh, I'm Tim Drake. Sorry about Dick, it's not every day we meet a friend of the demons. Are you guys going to be working on something?" Tim asks
"Oh well, technically, we have a school project, but we have plenty of time to work on it, so we were going to have a um, 'movie marathon'" Y/n replies, unsure of how to react
"Yes, we plan to binge some movies that neither of us have seen before, I also wrote a list of other activities we could do, including but not limited to, various board games" Damian replies
"Wow, sounds like fun, maybe we'll pop in for a movie or two later on" Dick teases
"Grayson-" Damian hisses before being interupted
"Ahem, boys play nice, Master Dick and Master Tim, dinner will be ready in a few hours, I have some matters to attend to with Master Bruce, so please behave yourselves." Alfred states
"Alright, alright, we'll let the two of you go have fun, but don't think we won't drop by for some family board games." Dick says
Groaning, Damian leads Y/n towards the theater while Alfred heads to Bruce's office, leaving Dick and Tim alone
"...... So I'm not the only one who noticed she looks exactly like Bruce, right?" Dick asks
"No, no, you were not. How is this even possible she looks like she's Damian's age, so it's not like Bruce had another affair? But she looks so much like him it's kind of creepy, it could be another clone situation." Tim replies
"Makes Damians little comment about them being siblings earlier seem like it may not have been a joke" Dick says
"He didn't say anything about it, though. You'd think he'd have made all sorts of blood siblings comments by now." Tim says
"Yeah..." Dick says absentmindedly
"You good Dick?? You look like your thinking which is never a good thing" Tim jokes
"Ha ha, very funny. I'm fine. I was just. I feel like I've heard the name Y/n before but can't remember where, " Dick explains, and the two of them stand there for a moment before deciding to actually join movie night
With Alfred:
"Master Bruce?" Alfred approaches the office and lets himself in, noticing the papers all over the place, recognizing all of them
"Is it really possible? Even if it is her, how hasn't she grown up? She'd have been older than Dick by now. And if it is her, why didn't she come back? Why did it take until Damian invited her over for her to come here? Are we sure she even remembers us? What if it's some sick joke? What if some villain made a clone of her and sent her here to toy with me? What if -"
Before he could spiral any further, Alfred cuts him off
"Master Bruce. Calm down. I'm aware of how... odd this situation is, and there is much to discuss. However, I feel it would be best for you to speak to her yourself. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this. She is her father's daughter, I'm sure she'll explain everything." Alfred says
"And what if she can't? What if it isn't really her and just a huge coincidence? What then? We would be back at Square one not knowing what happened to her or where to find her or-"
"You're doing it again Master Bruce. Please, go talk to her" Alfred says
"Alfred I- I don't know if I can. If I can face her. It's been so long I.." Bruce, finally looking away from his papers to look up at his butler
"It'll be okay. I'll be there with you as well. You... you don't have to see her just yet. You could wait for then to finish with a few of their movies and settle in before approaching. It'll give you some time to brace yourself as well." Alfred suggests
"That.. sounds like a plan Alfred, thank you." Bruce says
"Of course Master Bruce. I'll go ahead and start dinner now, it shouldnt take too long, so I'll fetch you when it's done, and we can go talk to her. And then have dinner afterward," Alfred replies
"Alright Alfred." Bruce says
After some time passes, the kids have watched around two and a half movies, they're in the middle of third when they hear footsteps approaching
Y/n Pov:
Y/n slightly tenses up. She knows those footsteps, even through the sound of the movie, she can hear them. Her father always taught her to notice the little things like that. The boys notice but don't think much of it until
"Ah, there you all are, Alfred told me you guys would be in here," Bruce's voice calls out as he walks over the greet the others, he looks more tense than usual, but he has been for the past few days it's probably case related the boys think
"Hello father, this is my friend y/n" Damian turns to look at Bruce who after making his way over to everyone finally lays his eyes on y/n, and he freezes
Dick and Tim don't say anything, both looking back and forth between Bruce and Y/n wide eyes, there is a long awkward silence before Damian decides to speak up
"Alright, what is with everyone today! I swear you have all been acting strange. It's not even that rare for me to have friends. If I knew you'd all act like this, I would've thought twice. Even you father, I can't believe it -" Damian starts to scold, but Y/n cuts him off
"It's okay, Damian, cut him some slack, it's not every day a dad sees his dead daughter again" Y/n says while putting a hand on Damians shoulder with wet eyes
"It really is you, Y/n..." Bruce says, tears forming in his eyes
"Hey, Dad... I'm back, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, and I know you probably have a lot of questions, but -" Before y/n can continue, Bruce pulls her into a hug, and the two let out their tears
The others can only stand there and watch as the two cry and apologize to another
"So, I'm all for new family members but what the hell is happening right now can anyone explain" Dick asks
"I agree with Grayson for once, what is going on?" Damian adds
"It's... a long story that we can discuss later. First things first." Bruce stands up but doesn't let go of Y/n almost like he's worried if he let's her go she'll disappear again."Right now, all that matters is that it's time for dinner. Alfred made your favorite Y/n, we weren't sure if it was really you but we wanted to hope it was." Bruce says and they all head to the dining room, still all in shock
They sit at the dinner table and-
"Wow Bruce, another kid? You seriously have a problem." A voice calls out causing the others to look at him and try to signal that it's not the time to say stuff like that
"Hello Jason, it's good to see you too. And for your information, this is Y/n, and technically, she was my first kid, " Bruce says. "Are you here for dinner?"
"Yeah, I wanted some of Alfred's cooking- hold on. What do you mean she's your first kid she's like the same age as the demon spawn??" Jason acts
"Oh that's because I was dead for- ..... uh dad how long was I dead for? I didn't do the math" Y/n says
"It's been... 20 years now" Bruce says hesitantly and watches the realization set in in everyone's eyes
"Oh... wow... that's a lot longer than I thought... but yeah, I've been dead for a while. I only came back to life earlier this month... Also, dad, I know we'll do questions later, but I don't actually know how I came back to life, I was completely alone when I woke up, and I wasn't where I died." Y/n tells him
"I see. That's alright, my dear, we can worry about that later, Damian told me about where you were staying after he found you during patrol, so I'm sure you're hungry" Bruce says
"Father! "Bruce!" The boys yell
"What?" He turns around confused
"Pft wow bruce" Jason laughs only causing Bruce to look even more confused
"Dad I think they're talking about the fact you mentioned patrol" Y/n tells her father while giggling
"Oh, guys, y/n already knows. Well, she knew about me and knowing my daughter she put two and two together when she saw Damian as Robin" Bruce explains
"Yeah, the moment I heard about there being more vigilantes and that apparently dad had more kids, I figured he started a family business, speaking of which dad how many kids did you have after me??? Did you lean into the 'Brucie' persona that much?" Y/n asks, nudging her father
"Okay, in my defense, most of them are adopted. You and Damian are my only biological children, and technically.... these aren't the only ones there's a few more, but they're out right now. Technically Dick and Jason don't live here anymore. They come here for Alfred's cooking most of the time, " Bruce says and almost as if on que y/n's stomach growls, "Speaking of which, it sounds like it's time to eat."
They finally settle at the dinner table, and Alfred brings out the food, y/n practically drools at the smell alone
They eat, and none of them say anything, but they all notice y/n crying while eating the food, and they wonder what she's been through in the month since she woke up before coming here. Bruce and Alfred especially make mental notes to do a health check-up and get her back onto a proper and healthy diet once she's settled back in. Alfred has many mixed feelings seeing y/n eat. She eats much faster than she used to. Jason notices this also and knows what it's like trying to find food on your own as a kid. He not so subtly gives her some of his food.
After dinner and desert (Alfred was so relieved to hear it really was her, he made cookies to celebrate)
Y/n starts to look really tired
"Are you alright sweetheart?" Bruce asks
"I'm okay, dad, just stuffed. It's been a while since I've eaten that much. I'm probably going to have a food coma - that was a joke. I'm not actually going to fall into a coma. " She quickly adds, knowing how much her dad overthinking things
"Well, food coma or not, it's been a long day, I think it's time for you to head to bed." Bruce says, standing up
"Aw, dad already? We haven't even gotten to talk, and I know you have questions, and I do too, and" Y/n starts
"Sweetheart." Bruce says firmly but warm as he crouches down to meet his daughters eyes. "You're right. There are many questions, but those questions can wait. You need your rest. As much as I want to know everything, I want to make sure you're okay first. We can talk in the morning, and the day after, and so on. Your home now." Bruce says
"Yeah... I'm home now." Y/n says, as she starts to cry again and Bruce gently scoops her up in his arms
"It's okay, sweetheart." He says cooing
"I missed you so much, dad." y/n cries
"I missed you too." Bruce says, "Let's get you to bed, I'm sure you've missed your room too. " He starts to walk through the halls while the others are still sitting at the table stunned
"You still have my room?" Y/n asks as Bruce carries her
"What kind of question is that? Of course I still have your room." Bruce replies
"Well... it's been so long, and you probably knew I was dead so I figured-"
"I never accepted you were dead." Bruce cuts her off. "I always hoped I would find you one day. Even if you were a grown adult, I kept your room the same." Bruce says
"Dad..." Y/n says, knowing that this whole time, her father has been looking for a daughter that he would never find "I... I *was* dead... I'm sorry-"
"Don't you dare apologize. Your only a kid it isn't your fault. Whatever happened wasn't your fault. We can talk about it more in the morning. But for now.." Bruce takes out his keys and unlocks the door to Y/n's room and tucks her in. She yawns and Bruce starts to get up but Y/n grabs him
"Dad... could you stay with me until I fall asleep? I know you have work to do and that those guys are probably waiting but-" y/n pauses
"Of course I will. Just rest now my dear." Bruce says and it's not long before y/n is out like a light
Bruce after a few more minutes finally gets up, he plugs in a nightlight and makes his way back to the dining room where he is then greeted by the boys and he sighs
"Boys."
"Bruce" "Father
"Alright. I suppose it's time to explain." Bruce starts as he pulls out a chair "Where do I even begin?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aaaaaaaand another cliffhanger! Sorry not sorry but I've been working on and off on this post for weeks I think. Theres still a good bit of story left (aka the explanations) I don't currently have much planned afterwards but I feel like when I write the next part depending on how I write it this may become a mini series (I say mini because again, I don't have much planned this started out as a random concept in my head) if i do write more after the explanations I'd definitely lean even more into the yandere aspects (I attempted to start planting some seeds of it with the batfam getting more concerned and protective, and the next part will definitely tip them over the edge :) hehe )
I'm sorry if the characters are well, out of character but, *points to the fact I'm new to this fandom and new to writing fanfiction in general*
Also I'm sorry there's no cass, duke, barb, or steph
I don't know much about them yet, I know who they are but not really how they act or solid personality traits so I don't know how to write them yet, but I'll probably allude to them or say that the others explain the situation to them or smth
Thanks for being patient with me for this part lol
#batfam x reader#batman#damian wayne#dick grayson#platonic batfam#tim drake#yandere batfam#batfam#yandere jason todd#yandere damian wayne#bruce wayne#good dad bruce wayne#protect alfred#batfam x batsis#Batman Dead Daughter Au#is it even an au??? its an original story not an alternate one but oh well it sounds better that way lol
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Tim Drake who has a half-Chinese mother named Dai Lu Feng who travelled to study history in various countries and eventually met Jack Drake, an American archeologist who instantly fell in love with the assertive and intelligent woman.
When she eventually agrees to move to America, she had an argument with her parents that makes her cut them off, one she says is due to money when ever asked but is actually because of Drake.
Obviously they don’t have a problem with him being a white man, it’s more that he’s a white white man. He’s entitled, rude, and disrespectful to anyone he deems below him. He’s not obvious about it, but it’s clear he doesn’t really approve of Dai Lu’s family due to their middle class status but she can’t seem to see that, too enchanted by the fact that he listens to her talk about ancient history.
He seems to think class is all that matters, but most odd is how he treats his partners heritage.
When Jack tells her she will need an English name, she isn’t upset or surprised as that’s very normal and her father had already given her one, that being his own mother, Janet.
When Jack tells her to be cautious with who she speaks to incase they pick up her rather well hidden accent, she assumes it’s because Americans can often be cruel to Chinese due to all the propaganda and stereotypes.
When he tells her that she doesn’t need to keep her traditional clothes with her all the time, that they can stay safe in China, she isn’t as sure but at that point thought she would be returning frequently.
When she gets pregnant and excitedly tells him, she hears him over the phone with his ‘Gentleman’ friends saying, ‘Yeah, but she’s only half Chinese, so it’s not really interracial, is it?’ And then ‘Nah, the kid will look more like me, male genes are stronger and anyway, he won’t be learning Chinese so who cares!’
Dai Lu has the until thought to correct him ironically, the thought of defending her language which is Mandarin, thank you, stronger than it’s been in a long while. She’s so used to him not wanting her to talk her home tongue she’s stopped questioning it, stopped feeling that slight guilt of absorbing her culture and home.
Maybe it’s because she used to be bullied for it, that she always thought she would one day have to choose between being a Chinese woman like her mother or a professor in England like her father had been.
And Dai Lu is a smart woman, but she’s also just a human being. She gets scared, especially when it comes to the few people whose opinion she cares about.
What if she tries to go home to her family, to her parents and her sister, only to be shamed for running away from her husband just as she gets pregnant! What if they are mad at her for leaving? What if they judged her? What if she went back to China and everyone knew she abandoned her husband?
She didn’t need his money but damn it if she didn’t want his love.
Timothy Jackson Drake is born with his father choosing his names, his mother looking at him with a smile and heavy sadness is her eyes.
She knows he will be questioned on his heritage, that he will be called vile things, and she will teach him how to handle and respond to such things.
Janet will need to, because Tim looks so much like her and his father will blame him for it.
When Tim receives his mother’s inheritance and everything else she left him in her will, he finds a book he used to read with her as a kid.
Within The Velveteen Rabbit is a letter that reads as follows,
“My dear sweet boy,
I know I wasn’t the best mother to you, I know I should have done more. Been braver.
Alas, all I have to offer you to show my remorse and my love is the name I wished for you to be called, that you would have been given if I had been brave enough to return to my mother.
I love you, Shoi-Ming Feng, now and forever.”
Tim smiles for the first time after loosing her.
They weren’t as close as they could have been, but they lived each other.
He would always remember her teaching him of his culture in whispered voices while Jack was out of the house, of the small jade ring she kept hidden in her make up bag, and of the way she taught him the language she was to never speak in front of her husband as best she could.
Tim calls Bruce and asks him if he could be brought into the man’s care permanently, on the condition is last name be Feng-Wayne.
Bruce agrees without a second of hesitation.
#batfam#bat family#dc comics#tim drake#batfamily#dc universe#dc#tim drake is red robin#tim drake is a menace#Chinese tim drake#Asian Tim Drake#chinese names#janet and jack drake#janet drake#tim and janet#eh dad jack drake#bad person Jack Drake#implied racism#tw: American beliefs
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secrets at dawn - lee chan
warnings: none! fluff
pairings: lee chan x reader
genre: drunken confessions ~
wc: 1.1k
a/n: FUCK HYBE
drunken confessions series
check out my main masterlist! // chan's m.list
it was well past midnight when you finally managed to get chan back to your place. he’d had way more to drink than anyone had expected, and the whole way there, he’d been stumbling, muttering half-coherent nonsense and trying to convince you he could walk on his own; which, clearly, he could not.
“come on, chan, we’re almost there,” you coaxed, balancing him as you pushed open the door to your apartment.
he blinked at you, squinting like he was trying to make sense of your face in the dim light. “who… who are you? why have you been following me and holding my arm?” he slurred, eyebrows scrunching in suspicion as he leaned away like you were a stranger.
you held back a laugh. “it’s me, your best friend, the one who’s been trying to get you home for the past 30 minutes?”
“nuh-uh,” he said, pulling his arm out of your grasp and wobbling dramatically. “i… i don’t talk to strangers. especially strangers trying to drag me to… mysterious places.”
“mysterious?” you laughed, gesturing around at your very normal apartment. “chan, this is my place. you’ve been here a million times.”
he blinked, looking around with a dazed expression, as if he were seeing your apartment for the first time. “then why dont i remember it? this doesn’t look… familiar..i've definitely never been here..” he mumbled, still staring in exaggerated confusion.
you rolled your eyes, tugging him toward the couch. “come on, let’s sit you down before you pass out in the middle of the floor.”
but chan, despite the clear need for support, looked at your hand on his arm like it was lava, yanking himself away with as much grace as his inebriated state allowed. “no, no, i can’t… she wouldn’t like that.”
“she?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your heart sinking a little. a rush of jealousy washed over you at the thought of him liking someone else. “who’s ‘she’?”
he crossed his arms, puffing up his chest in exaggerated importance. “someone very important. way too important for… for… uh… whatever this is.”
you couldn’t help but smile at his antics, but the knot in your stomach tightened. “alright then, mystery man. who is this ‘very important’ person?”
he looked around suspiciously, leaning in as if he were about to tell you a great secret. “she’s… she’s perfect. the kind of perfect you… you don’t even believe is real.” he let out a dreamy sigh, sinking onto the couch like he was melting at the thought of her.
you held back a laugh, but the jealousy gnawed at you. “really? so what makes her so special?”
“she’s… she’s got this smile, right? and it’s… it’s like…” he trailed off, gesturing wildly as he tried to find the right words. “it’s like sunshine, but also like… i dunno, like fireworks? but soft fireworks, the kind that don’t explode too loud.”
“soft fireworks,” you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady. “sounds like someone pretty amazing.”
he nodded, entirely serious. “she’s amazing. way better than some random person trying to… take advantage of me when i’m defenseless.”
“oh, come on,” you said, forcing a lightness into your tone as you tried to mask your disappointment. “and, for the record, i’m not exactly a stranger, or am I trying to take advantage of you."
he squinted, his face scrunching up as he leaned closer, studying you with utmost suspicion. “you kinda look like her, you know?”
“is that so?” you asked, the jealousy bubbling up again. “well, maybe you should just tell her how you feel.”
his eyes widened, and he immediately looked horrified. “no way! she’d… she’d think i was ridiculous.” he shook his head vigorously, nearly toppling over from the movement.
“oh, i don’t know,” you teased, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. “sounds like maybe she’d find it sweet.”
“nope,” he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. “she’s way too good for… for someone like me.”
your heart sank a little further. “well, maybe she wouldn’t think that if you actually told her,” you replied, your voice quieter now.
“you really think so?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “even… even with all my weird jokes?”
“yeah,” you said softly, though it felt hard to keep that positivity up. “i think so.”
for a moment, he just stared at you, his face so full of hope and something else; something warmer, more real. and then, just as quickly as it had softened, his expression turned defensive again, and he scooted away, crossing his arms.
“no! no, no, no. you’re trying to… to mess with me,” he said, clearly wrestling with his alcohol-induced haze. “she’s the only one for me, and you can’t change my mind!”
“wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, trying so hard to mask your sinking heart.
he gave you one last defiant look before settling back against the couch, closing his eyes. “good. ‘cause one day… i’m gonna tell her. i’ll tell her… and maybe she’ll laugh at me, but… but that’s okay.”
“that sounds like a great plan, chan,” you murmured, leaning back beside him, your smile softening as you watched him drift off, still muttering about his “perfect girl” and his plan to “sweep her off her feet.”
just as his breathing evened out, he mumbled one last thing, barely audible. “she… kinda even smells like you…”
you blinked, your heart racing at his words. “wait, what? who does?”
he opened his eyes slightly, looking almost sheepish. “the girl… the one i like,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “she’s… she’s just… everything. i mean, you’re basically her. but, you know, way better.”
your heart swelled with confusion and joy, a mixture of emotions washing over you. “chan, are you… are you talking about me?”
“no! you're not her…my best friend…you're not my best friend.....y/n…I like her. I like her a lot. I think I love her..but she doesn't know yet. maybe tomorrow I'll tell her…yeah I will. I will tell her tomorrow.” he answered as his voice trails off as he drifts to sleep. you all but sat dumbfounded beside a lightly snoring chan, your hand still in his.
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagine#svt fluff#svt#svt x reader#svt angst#fanfic#seventeen x reader#dino x reader#dino angst#dino fluff#dino fanfic#dino imagines#dino seventeen#seventeen dino#lee chan x reader#lee chan fluff#lee chan angst#lee chan fanfic#lee chan imagines#lee chan seventeen
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Worth The Fight: Smells Good
Masterlist: Here
CW: pregnancy stuff/symptoms mentioned
A/N: I felt like we needed a little bit of semi fluffiness between these two so hope y’all enjoy✨
Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r
Summary: You have a new craving that leads to you being the one that texts Harry at one in the morning✨
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2adde97426a0a6d70961442fc31415fb/f95770020d137edb-74/s540x810/5c20e26801a682f65a6aae7b5fa1461c1a2eb8fd.jpg)
Harry is nervous he hasn’t seen you in a week and now he’s sitting in the waiting room of Dr. Andrews’s office waiting for your appointment but there’s just one thing that’s missing, you. He knows better than to text you to ask where you’re at or if you’re going to be running late because according to what you’ve told him you don’t run late you just sometimes have to rush. He looks at the watch on his wrist and notices that there’s about ten minutes until your appointment time so he just reaches for the juice he got from a place near his house, trying not to think about the last time he was in this office. Thankfully the waiting room isn’t very crowded, he does notice a very pregnant woman sitting near the back of the room and he can’t help but want to smile when he watches her eyes close and her head rest on the shoulder of the person sitting next to her. As he takes another sip of his juice Harry finds himself wondering if he will ever get a moment like that with you, if you’ll ever see him as a someone that you feel comfortable enough with that resting your head on his shoulder or maybe even reaching for his hand when you just need to feel grounded would be acceptable.
“Oh thank god you’re still out here.” Harry nearly chokes on the juice in his mouth as you suddenly appear next to him, out of breath and of course with the strap to your giant unorganized purse draped over your shoulder. “I was afraid they might’ve already called you back there and I’d have to go knocking on doors to find you.” You explain as you practically fall into the empty seat next to him, all while he just stares at you with wide eyes and the straw to his juice in his mouth.
“Uh no-no they haven’t called for us yet.” He stutters after he swallows the sip he was in the middle of when you appeared out of thin air. You look at him with a quirked brow as he clears his throat. “I also don’t think they’d uhm make you knock on doors I think they’d just show you which room I was in.” He doesn’t say it as a way to correct you he says it more so to help calm your nerves, or at least that’s how he hopes it comes across because he really doesn’t want to start an argument with you five seconds after seeing you for the first time in a week.
“I smell apples.” You look around the room as the words leave your mouth, deciding to ignore Harry’s comment because you know he’s right but you don’t necessarily want to tell him that. Harry raises an eyebrow as he watches you hunt for the source of the smell. “And I think-oh is that pineapple? Do you smell that?” You ask as you look at him and he instantly looks down to the juice in his hands.
“Uh no I can’t smell that. But my juice-”
“Where did you get that?” Harry is taken aback by how quickly your words fall out of your mouth as you cut him off as your eyes become glued to the plastic cup in his hand.
“Oh uhm -”
“Styles?” Both you and Harry turn your heads towards the doorway a nurse is standing in with a smile on her face and a clipboard in her hands. “We’re ready for you.” She explains making Harry stand up and before he can think twice about it he’s offering you his free hand to help you up and while normally you’d make a small scene about not taking it you can’t be bothered because you’re still focusing on the juice in his other hand.
“Thank you.” You mumble once you’re up out of the chair and Harry just gives you a tight lipped smile as a response, still not fully convinced he’s not dreaming because this is only the third time you’ve allowed him to actually touch you since the night you two met.
“Dr. Andrews will be right in.” You just smile as the nurse shows the two of you to the exam room you’ll be in before closing the door. You rub your lips together as you place your bag in one of the chairs on the wall while Harry stands there not sure where he should sit, in the empty chair next to your bag or the chair next to the exam table where you’ll be at for the majority of the visit.
“I’m sorry by the way.” Your voice is soft and quiet as you take a step towards the exam table. Harry has to take a moment to think about all the possible reasons you could be apologizing to him but lucky for him you decide to explain yourself. “I shouldn’t have asked if you really wanted to be a dad because I know you do. I know you want to be in their lives and I’m sorry I upset you with that question it wasn’t-”
“You don’t have to apologize. You had every reason to ask me that and I’m sorry for how I handled it but you’re right.” He doesn’t have to look at you to know you have a small smile on your face at his admission of you being right, even if you don’t know what he’s admitting you’re right about you still just enjoy how the phrase sounds coming from him. “I do want to be their dad and be in their lives and that means I’ll be in yours as well.” You just nod as you try to get comfortable on the table and Harry can’t help the way his eyes travel from your face down to your bump that seems to be much more prominent today than it was the last time he saw you.
“That’s true. We are sort of stuck with each other.” You agree as Harry leans against the counter that has a little sink attached to it, your eyes automatically finding the plastic cup in his hand as he brings the straw up to his lips for a quick sip. “Did you make that?” Harry quirks a brow as he looks at you and then to the cup in his hand and then back at you and he swears he catches you licking your lips as you stare at the green liquid in his cup.
“The juice? No I got it from this little place near my-”
“It smells good.”
“Uh do you-you want to try it?”
“What’s in it?” You don’t know why you ask because he could say it’s made of dirt and salty lawn clippings and you’d still want to try it because the smell has your mouth watering, your appetite hasn’t been that great recently but something about the oddly colored juice in Harry’s hand has you suddenly craving something you’ve never had before.
“Green apples some spinach and some pineapple and I think-” You just begin nodding and reach a hand out in the middle of him listing what’s in the juice and without hesitation he hands you the cup making him chuckle when you instantly take a sip of it and let out a sigh and close your eyes as you take another sip.
“Is that cucumber?” Harry just nods as he runs a hand through his hair while you slowly swing your feet back and forth as they hang off the end of the exam table all while sucking down a few more sips of his juice and for a moment a comfortable silence takes over the room.
“I understand why you can’t forgive me yet for what I did.” You feel your heart do a little jump in your chest as Harry’s voice breaks the silence a few minutes later. “I know you don’t trust that I’ll stick around and I can’t say anything that will change how you feel so I just hope you’ll let me show you how much I really do want to be apart of this whole thing.” Harry is looking at his feet when you look over at him, knowing that if he said all that while looking at you he would probably be an emotional mess by the end of it and that’s not exactly what he wants while in an exam room waiting to see how his twins are doing.
“Thank-oh no.” Harry’s head snaps up at the sound of you making a soft huff but before he can ask what’s wrong you’re holding the now empty cup in your hands and looking at it with a pout. “I drank it all.” Your voice cracks a bit as you look at the empty cup and he feels his chest tighten as your eyes get glossy and your bottom lip starts to tremble and for a moment Harry refuses to believe you’re actually getting this upset over finishing off his juice. But then he realizes as you take the lid off and tip the cup back so you can try to get the last few drops at the bottom you’re not upset over the fact it was his, you’re just upset that it’s gone.
“It’s okay.” He tries his best to sound reassuring but he is also a tiny bit worried he’s just going to upset you as he takes a few steps towards you so he can grab the empty cup from out of your hands. “I’m glad you liked it.” You watch with sad eyes as he tosses the cup and lid into the trash.
“I’m so going to need more-” You turn your head as a knock interrupts you mid sentence, Harry quickly takes the sear near the exam table just as the door opens.
“Hello!” You smile as Dr. Andrews walks into the room with his clipboard in his hands and a bright smile on his face. “Mr. Styles it’s great to see you again how have you been?” Harry just offers him a casual shrug making the him laugh.
“I’ve been okay uh how about yourself?” You have to bite your lip to stop the giggles from escaping as you watch and listen to Harry struggle with small talk with the man that will eventually be delivering your twins.
“Oh I’ve been great now let’s ask the woman in charge how she’s doing huh? How’s the appetite and nausea? Better or the same since last week?” Harry’s eyes narrow as Dr. Andrews places his clipboard on the counter before turning and looking at you.
“Actually my appetite has come back a little bit and so far this week no nausea.” You answer as you feel Harry’s eyes glaring at you, so you just turn your head to look at him because you want to attempt to involve him in things but before you can open your mouth to explain yourself he is looking at Dr. Andrews and asking for himself.
“Last week? Did something happen? She didn’t have a scheduled appointment for last week.” You can tell he’s trying to hide his concern as he asks the doctor who is walking towards you so he can sit in the round wheeled stool that’s near the end of the table where your legs are hanging off.
“Nothing to worry about just some nausea that was making it a little hard to keep things down so she came in for a quick check up.” Dr. Andrews gives him a quick explanation making Harry just nod as he watches him look at you with a reassuring smile. “So it looks like you’ve lost a little weight since your last appointment but again that’s normal and since your appetite is coming back I’m not too concerned about it. Now is there anything new I should know about? Any pain or discomfort?” Harry’s attention moves from the doctor to you as you place your hands in your lap and mess with the ring you have on your index finger.
“I feel like my ankles are already starting to swell is that normal?”
“Yes that’s normal you can expect swelling in your feet and hands as well as some around your belly. Any breast tenderness or leg cramps?”
“Leg cramps sometimes but mainly when I’m laying down at the end of the day and uhm no-no breast tenderness.” You feel silly for being a little embarrassed at talking about if your breasts are tender or not while Harry is sitting in a chair next to you, but you can’t help it and when you subtly glance over at him and see his cheeks are slightly flushed you know he feels a bit awkward as well.
“I can give you some tips for how to help with the leg cramps but what about the fatigue? Is it the same or have you gotten some energy back?”
“I’ve gotten a little energy back.” Dr. Andrews gives you a little smile at this bit of information as he wheels himself around the table so he can grab some gloves and for some reason that makes you remember your last scheduled exam that Harry left in the middle of making him miss something important. “Uhm I was wondering if we could listen to the heartbeats today?”
“Of course yes we are going to check their heartbeats and do some bloodwork and we will check to see how they are doing with an ultrasound so you’ll get to see them today while we look over a few things but we will discuss all of that when we get to it.” Harry is just nervously chewing on his bottom lip as Dr. Andrews discusses everything that will happen during today’s appointment.
You scoot further back on the table and try to get comfortable as Dr. Andrews gets everything ready so the two of you can hear the twins heartbeats. Harry runs a hand through his hair and adjusts how he’s sitting in the chair, trying his best to cover up his anxiousness but clearly not doing a good job because just as you get comfortable and roll your shirt up so the doctor can use his Doppler monitor you look over at him and raise an eyebrow.
“You okay?” You whisper making Dr. Andrews lightly chuckle as he turns the machine on and wheels himself over to you on the opposite side of the exam table that Harry is sat on.
“Oh yeah-yeah I’m fine.” He knows that you know he’s lying but neither of you can say anything else because soon the room is full of a static like sound making Harry turn and look at the little device in the doctor’s hands that is pressed against your bump.
Then the static turned into the soft but steady sound of what you would describe as similar to a horse galloping down a street, letting you know Dr. Andrews had found a heartbeat making you feel a lump of emotions form in your throat. When you look over at Harry you can tell he is struggling to keep his emotions in check as his eyes go a bit glossy and his lips are rubbing together and you have to remind yourself that this is his first time hearing this sound.
So you do something for him that you wish someone was there to do for you when you first heard it, you reach your arm out and open your hand for him to take and without a word Harry grabs your hand slipping his fingers between the gaps of yours letting you give his hand a comforting squeeze. You smile as Harry returns your gesture with a soft squeeze of your hand while the two of you sit there and listen to your babies’ heartbeats. And for a moment you don’t feel like two people who oftentimes can barely hold a conversation without it turning into an argument, you almost feel like a normal couple.
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You let out a groan as you lay in bed with Paris curled up in a peaceful ball near your feet. It’s been two days since your appointment, and it’s been two days that you’ve been craving the green juice Harry ended up letting you have before the exam started. While you’re used to having cravings, such as the jam and toast that you still have for breakfast most mornings but normally you can satiate your cravings rather quickly but this time you can’t because Harry never got to tell you where he got the juice or even finish telling you what was in it. But the main issue about the juice you’re craving so badly that your mouth is watering and you almost feel as if you could cry because it’s all you can think about, is that your fridge is pretty much empty minus some raspberry jam and milk.
“I could just find the place he got it from.” You mumble to yourself as you sit up and turn your bedside lamp on before you reach for your phone that’s plugged into the charger on your nightstand. “He said he got it from a place near his house.” You hold your phone in your hands and let out a huff as you just stare at the screen. “Which would be fine if I knew where he lived.” You bite your lip and debate on if you should text him and just ask him for the juice place seeing as he knows you liked it you asking him about it wouldn’t seem so odd.
“One text won’t be too bad.”
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Harry has to laugh at the situation he’s found himself in as the elevator door opens to reveal your floor number because for once he’s not showing up here completely uninvited. While you didn’t exactly tell him not to come you also didn’t tell him it was okay for him to come over, but he can’t just let you suffer with not being able satiate your craving when he has all the ingredients to make it. So as he walks down your hallway he adjusts the bag on his shoulder that has all the produce in it and silently hopes you’re still awake so he’s not disturbing you when he knocks on your door.
“Harry?” Your voice is full of surprise as you open the door and see him standing there in a pair of black sweatpants and a hoodie with a bag over his shoulder. “What-what are you doing here?” You ask even though you know he said he’d be there in ten you didn’t actually expect him to show up at your door, he just slides the bag off his shoulder so he can reach out and hand it to you.
“It has all the things you need for your uhm juice.” He watches the way your face lights up as you take the bag from him and look inside of it. “You have a blender and a strainer right?” He asks to confirm that you’ll even be able to make the juice and when you just nod he smiles as he brings a hand up and rubs at the back of his neck.
“So I just put all this in the blender and strain it and that’s it?”
“Uh well you have to add water and cut the fruit up.”
“Okay how much water?”
“Have you ever made a smoothie or anything before?” He asks and when you shake your head no he lets out a sigh as he contemplates just taking the bag from you and making it himself but before he can even suggest it you’re biting your bottom lip and staring at him.
“Do you think or uh would you mind maybe-”
“I can make it for you.” He answers before you can even finish asking your question. The two of you stand there for a few moments just staring at each other before you finally move to the side leaving enough room for him to walk through the door.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” He asks before taking a step because he knows recently you haven’t wanted him to be inside your apartment, preferring him to just stay in the hallway.
“Oh uhm yeah it’s fine.” You answer and truthfully you don’t know if it’s just your overwhelming desire to finally get what you’ve been craving for the last two days or if you really don’t mind that Harry enters your apartment. Harry just nods as he takes the bag from your hands before taking a few steps into your apartment and heading towards the kitchen, he looks around as he crosses your living room and raises a brow as he notices the absence of a certain orange fur ball with a bell on his collar.
“Where’s-”
“Paris is asleep on my bed don’t worry.” You say with a laugh as you follow Harry into the kitchen. He sets the bag on your counter as you go for the cabinet you keep your blender in. Once you have it plugged in you just take a seat at your little table and watch as Harry stumbles his way around your kitchen at one in the morning just to make you a juice that you’ve been craving.
As you sit there while he begins to cut up the fruit from the bag you find yourself wondering if this is something you should get used to or if this is just a one time fluke and the two of you are just having a decent week. When he starts to hum to himself you place a hand on your bump giving it a soothing rub and when he looks over at you with a soft smile you decide that it doesn’t matter if this is a one time thing or the beginning of your new normal. You’ll take it because having Harry in your apartment isn’t that bad especially when it ends with him handing you a glass full of the green liquid you’ve been dreaming about for the last two days.
#worth the fight series#harry styles series#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles x pregnant!reader#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles enemies to lovers#harry styles slow burn#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#Harry styles rpf#my little lanky baby#harry styles#one direction fanfiction#enemies to lovers#dadrry#solo harry
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enemies to lovers w/ spencer reid plzz 💗
.⋆。Whispers in the Dark。⋆.
Spencer Reid x plus size reader
You and Spencer have been at each other’s throats for months and the team is sick of it. So while on a case in a conveniently tiny town, they do something to fix it
Warnings: usual cm warnings (kidnapping, murder, serial killer), enemies to lovers, one bed trope (i’m not sorry), confessions, little bit of partial nudity, Spencer and reader are horny for each other and neither know how to deal with it, implied smut WC: 2.4k
6k Follower Celebration Bingo
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
If there was one thing that was a guarantee in this life, it was the DOCTOR (as he always liked to remind you) Spencer Reid would not keep his fucking mouth shut. You used to think it was endearing the way he so passionately spoke about anything and everything but after the 30th time he interrupted you (in front of every mind you), it got annoying real fast. And somehow, it was even worse today.
A series of kidnappings occurring in a small town in the middle of buttfuck nowhere that exactly replicated the town’s urban legend about a vengeful spirit killing those who tried to leave without offering sacrifice. Given your extensive knowledge on the development of folklore specifically tied to serial killers, it was an unspoken agreement that you would be taking the lead on the case.
But Reid had a very different idea.
“This is obviously someone using the story to get rid of people they have a vendetta against.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the young doctor. His lean body blocked the column of victim photos as he pointed to the map of the town beside it. He had drawn over several places with a red marker and although the abduction sites did fall into his contracted triangle of a comfort zone, something in your gut told you it was more than that.
“Look, I’m going to keep saying it. This goes way deeper. This has been happening for generations. 2002, 1985, 1968, hell even all the way back to the fucking 1820s! It’s either all 17 year olds getting killed or 17 people killed total each year it occurs, with it switching each time.” Spencer made a sound that was almost a scoff but with Hotch’s steely gaze fixed on the both of you, he covered it up by clearing his throat.
“Mark Adin was 18.”
“He turned 18 the day he died, Reid! And if you looked at his birth certificate, you’d see that his time of death was an hour before he would actually turn 18.”
“If you would just-“
“Alright!” Derek placed a firm hand onto Spencer’s shoulder, making him stumble slightly. “We get it, you’re both freakishly smart but I think it’s late and we all need some sleep.” He shot you a look as you crossed your arms over your chest, red hot anger and frustration still bubbling up inside you.
It always ended like that, one of the other members of your team stepped in before insults could be hurled (it’s happened once or twice before) and suggested a break while you and Spencer continued to glare at each other. He continuously undermined your theories and in return, you questioned his intelligence.
“I’m sure Y/L/N will realise how ridiculous she’s being after some undeserved rest. I mean, when is she ever right.” Your stomach dropped and Derek’s smile dimmed for a second before he wound an arm around the young doctor’s shoulders and guided him out of the conference room the team had commandeered far quicker than he normally did.
You opened your mouth to shout something back at him but Emily grabbed your forearm before you could. “It’s not worth it.” You met her gaze and quickly deflated.
“Yeah okay.” She gave you a soft smile as you both left the room together, missing the weighty glance Hotch and Rossi shared.
——————
“I can’t believe that you and JJ are doing this to me,” you whined, hiking up the strap of your go-bag higher on your shoulder, “you promised last time that we had to share rooms that it would be you and me. I don’t want to get stuck with Hotch again, he snores like a fucking freight train.” Emily poked your ribs as she passed by, shooting you a mischievous grin.
“You were too busy flirting with Reid to notice us making sleeping arrangements.” You huffed and followed her out of the elevator.
“I wasn’t FlIrTinG with him and by the way, that’s disgusting you even thought of that.” The hallway was dead silent save for the faint buzz of the ice machine at the very end.
“Yeah, that’s definitely why you totally weren’t checking out his ass while he was setting up the white board.”
“Emily!” You hissed but she only laughed in response.
“Come on, it’s so obvious that you like him! This childish rivalry you have is just sexual tension so for all of our sakes can you please just fuck him already so we can actually do our jobs.”
“Alright maybe I would like him if he wasn’t such an ass to me all the time.” You conceded, earning you a sly grin from your friend as you both came to a stop outside your hotel room door. “But! He constantly undermines me and makes me feel like shit so it’s never gonna happen.”
Emily stood by her own door, her key-card already in hand. “And you love to rile him up. So, never say never.” And with that, she slipped into her room, shutting the door before you could retort.
You rolled your eyes as you unlocked your own door and stepped in. The shower was already running but what mainly concerned you was the lack of a second bed. You sighed heavily, dropping your bag on the empty side away from the door. You were too exhausted and frustrated to even be mad about having to share both a room and a bed with your boss. Too exhausted in fact to notice the sweater on the chair in the corner couldn’t have possibly belonged to the older man.
Quickly, you stripped down to your underwear and slipped on your sleep clothes, figuring you could wake up early and shower before heading back to the police station. You sighed as you crawled beneath the sheets, the worn mattress immediately cradling your soft body.
Your eyelids had just begun to flutter shut when the water turned off. You turned onto your other side in anticipation of the bright light from the bathroom fully waking you up but what you didn’t expect was the accompaniment of the one voice you hadn’t wanted to hear until you had at least 6 hours of sleep and a massive coffee.
“What the hell?”
“Fuck me.” You sat up and took in the sight of a very damp Spencer Reid wearing only a towel around his waist. You refused to look down at his naked torso (no matter how badly you wanted to).
“You’re not Morgan.” He retorted.
“And here I was thinking you were a genius. Do you usually walk around half-naked with Derek?” He didn’t dignify you with a response this time, only grabbing his bag and retreating to the bathroom once more. As soon as the door shut, you launched yourself at your phone.
<I’m going to fucking kill you
>We’ve all packed noise cancelling headphones so don’t hold back ;)
>BTW before you even ask, there’s no more rooms available. Small towns are just great aren’t they
<I’ll get you back for this
>Sweet dreams
You could scream as you shut off your phone, Emily’s texts disappearing, leaving you staring at your reflection on the black screen. You should’ve known something was up when Hotch insisted that everyone take separate SUVs to the hotel under the guise of everyone splitting up first thing in the morning. The man was a fucking menace.
The mattress groaned as you laid back down, far closer to the edge this time. If Spencer took your hint and just left you alone for the rest of the night, you would consider it an overwhelming success. This time when the door opened, the light was already off, letting you breathe a sigh of relief.
The bed dipped and your body tensed for a moment. You waited for him to speak, but when he didn’t, you finally relaxed. In the silence and darkness of the room, you could pretend that you were anywhere else.
“Will you stop hogging the blankets?” You knew this peace couldn’t have possibly lasted.
“If you had turned on the heater I wouldn’t have to.” You grumbled but still released your hold on the covers just enough for him to take some more of it.
“Not my fault you’re always freezing for no reason.” The blanket lifted from your leg as Spencer fully wrapped himself up. You sighed but decided not to pick a fight, Emily’s words still circling your mind. Instead you wrapped your arms around your stomach as you drew your legs up, curling around yourself. You just wanted to sleep.
“What, no witty comeback?” You sighed heavily and squeezed your eyes shut.
“I get that I don’t ‘deserve to rest’ but I’m exhausted Spencer. Neither of us want to be here so can we just try to get some sleep and leave each other alone.” Thankfully, he stayed silent, for a moment at least.
“You called me Spencer.”
“Oh my god, can you please just let me sleep? Yes I called you Spencer, it’s your name isn’t it?” You snapped although you knew what he meant. You had never even referred to him by his first name in the almost 18 months since you had been on the team, just the same as he did with you.
“I’m sorry.”
“Fine.” You pressed your face into the thin pillow beneath your head, determined to finally fall asleep.
“No, Y/N I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have said to you.” The bedsprings screamed in the quiet of the room and suddenly you could feel the gentle brush of Spencer’s breath along the back of your neck. You suppressed a shiver as best you could. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”
“Why are you bringing this up now? Are you trying to get laid or something?” Your tone held no bite but you could still feel the way he flinched. A sour taste bloomed in your mouth. “Sorry. For what it’s worth, I’ve been an asshole to you too.”
Tentatively, you rolled onto your back, your shoulder now brushing his. Soft light bled into the room from the light in the hallway, dimly letting you see his silhouette. Already, Spencer’s hair was a mess, different strands sticking up or to his face. His right hand rested on his chest while the left was by his side, barely a fraction of an inch from touching your own. He turned his head, making eye-contact with you for probably the first time since you had known him.
“Why— What did I do to make you hate me so much?” You muttered, suddenly unable to speak any louder than a whisper. You watched his chest hitch and then deflate.
“You didn’t do anything. I guess— it was easier to hate you than admit the truth.” The warmth of his skin made you breathe a sigh of relief as he pressed his hand to yours.
“And what is the truth Spencer?” Even in the limited light, you could see the way his eyes dropped to your lips. His lithe fingers curled around your wrist and gently lifted your hands so that it rested between your heads.
“That when I’m around you, I can’t concentrate on anything besides how beautiful you are, how intelligent, how capable. You’ve had me wrapped around your finger since the moment we met and it’s angered me.” You didn’t realise how close you were to him until the tip of his nose bumped against yours. You sucked in a breath but it did nothing to ease the floating feeling in your stomach.
“Why’s that?” You were both now on your sides in the middle of the bed, on the edge of something more, if only one of you would fall first.
“Because I knew that the second I accepted it, there was nothing I could do to stop myself from falling for you, even if you would never feel the same.”
You smirked. “And here I was thinking you were the smartest man alive, Dr Reid.” He pressed his lips to your knuckles with a smile and before you could tell him that he was wrong and quite frankly dumb for not seeing through you (like everyone else on the team did), his hand was on your jaw and his lips on yours.
You moaned into his mouth when he leaned onto you. You grabbed at his back under his shirt, your nails digging into the surprisingly well-defined muscles along his spine. Spencer’s head tilted, encouraging the kiss to become more passionate as his tongue traced your bottom lip. You tangled your fingers in his messy hair, tugging at it slightly as your mind began to go fuzzy with the lack of oxygen.
Spencer smiled against your lips, placing two or three more soft kisses against them before rolling onto his back once more, leaving you breathless beside him. You followed him down, putting your head on his pillow. You stole another peck from him as he clutched at your wide hips.
“I can’t believe how long it’s taken us to finally talk this out. We were both being really stupid.” You giggled against his now swollen lips.
“Yeah we have.” Something tugged at your mind, breaking you away from the warm bubble of affection you were lost in.
You shot up. “What, what is it? Did I do something wrong?” Spencer practically pleaded, his hand tightly gripping at your thigh.
“You’re right, we were both being stupid! We’re both correct. What if it’s not just one unsub, but a whole family of them? 17 years between killings, Spencer!” Now it was his turn to sit up, his brown eyes wide with realisation.
“It’s a coming of age ritual. The unsub is killing people they know but under the guidance of the person that did it before them.”
“So the place where they’re keeping the victims before they kill them should be in the comfort zone and it should line up with all the past ones!” He beamed at you. “But maybe we should wait till morning to tell the others, they do need their beauty sleep.”
“And we don’t?” His hand moved higher, slipping beneath your sleep shorts, making you shudder.
“Definitely not.” You swung your leg over his hips and sat on his thighs, kissing him once more.
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Late Night Tears
Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader
Summary - Bruce wakes up to you crying.
Warnings - Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Comfort, Past Abuse mentions, Wrote this instead of sleeping
A/N - Same 'verse as Sippin' on Sunshine and Morning Glory. As always, this fic is a standalone and does not require any previous fics to be read in order to be enjoyed.
Word Count - 1.1k
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As quickly as it took for him to fall asleep, something pulls Bruce from his pleasant dream. It fades into distant memory as his eyes blink open and he’s staring up at where he knows the ceiling of Wayne Manor’s master bedroom is. His eyes adjust to the pitch blackness faster than a normal man’s, thanks to his nocturnal lifestyle.
He frowns as he lays there. While he, currently, has no idea what’s pulled him from his sleep, he knows something wrong. It’s a feeling deep within him. Settling into the pit of his stomach like the way that a stone sinks into the middle of a lake.
It’s the result of years of training drilled into him. Instincts wired into his brain and very being to keep him alive during extremely uncertain situations. But this doesn’t fit in to that.
He’s home. In bed. Safe and sound. There’s no danger here.
Bruce closes his eyes and decides to listen. Just because the danger isn’t obvious doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. Maybe he’ll hear something.
At the same time that he hears it, he also finally notices just how cold his side is. His sleepy brain fully waking up now.
You’re no longer tucked up against his side, like you usually are when the two of you sleep together. Instead you’re all the way on the other side of the king sized bed. As far away from him as you can get without falling out of the bed. And he immediately recognises the quiet sniffling and shaky breathes of you sobbing.
As he looks over at you, he feels his heart break a little. You are curled up into the fetal position. Both making yourself look smaller and trying to muffle your sobs with the covers.
Why didn’t you wake him?
Deeply worried about you, Bruce sits up. He switches on the lamp on the nightstand, lightning up the dark room, and reaches for you. He pulls you back toward him, noting how you stiffen up at his touch, and tucks you back up against his chest. You snuggle against him, your hands gripping the shirt he’s worn to bed tonight as you bury your face against him.
He doesn’t ask you if you’re okay. It’s beyond clear that, right now in this moment, you aren’t. So, as your forever devoted boyfriend, he does exactly as he knows he needs to. He holds you tightly, his hand rubbing your back, as he presses a kiss to the top of your head and softly repeats the words “I’m here”, a couple of times. Letting you know that you aren’t alone and that he’s got you.
You cry for a while. To the point of soaking the front of shirt. Not that he cares. He can always get a clean one later.
As your cries slowly fall silent, turning into more sniffling than full blown crying. You pull away from him and sit up, rubbing away the tears with your pyjama sleeve. Bruce sits up with you, one of his hands remaining on your lower back as he continues to do his best to soothe you.
“Bad dream?” he asks.
You shake your head. “No. I… I couldn’t sleep and the longer that I laid awake, the more my mind started to wander and I started to think about certain memories and it just sort of snowballed,” you reply. You draw you legs up and press your forehead against them.
Bruce doesn’t need you to explain further. He already knows about the memories responsible for your tears. They are the same ones that often cause your bad dreams as well.
Your child and teen years were, quite frankly, horrific. The abuse you endured only growing worse the more your fame grew. It was rarely physical, from what you have shared with him. Your parents preferring to use words, but they left a mark on you all the same.
As soon as you had turned eighteen you had managed to shake off of their shackles and hadn’t heard from them for a few years. Until the first headline involving you and Bruce had hit the stands. Then, like the cockroaches they are, they had come crawling from the woodwork to hurl nothing, but abuse at you. Some of which he has heard first hand. Even now he struggles to wrap his head around how horrible someone can be to their own child.
But restraining orders don't undo years of abuse and, as good as your therapist is, your scars run deep.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you onto his lap. You rest your head against his shoulder and let him entwin his fingers with yours.
“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he says. “You should have woken me up.”
“You barely get enough sleep as it is. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Your concern for him and his wellbeing is sweet. At the same time he doesn’t want you to suffer in silence just because he has the world’s worst sleeping schedule. He presses a feather light kiss to the tip of your nose and rests his head against your forehead.
“You wouldn’t be disturbing me. I would rather lose sleep than have you awake and crying alone,” he replies. “Next time wake me up. I won’t be mad or upset. All I want is to make sure you’re okay.”
You nod. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
Before you can even attempt to say sorry for saying sorry, he presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss. He pulls away and wipes away the remnants of tears, that are still on your face, away with his thumb. Your eyes are puffy and are still shiny from unshed tears.
“Come on, sweetheart.”
Bruce doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s getting out of bed, with you still in his arms and carries you, bridal style, toward the en-suite. He turns the light on and sets you onto the counter.
He removes his shirt, throwing toward the hamper before grabbing a washcloth off of the side of the bath and soaks it with cold water from the faucet. After squeezing some of the water out, he uses it to freshen up your face and gently presses it against your puffy eyes, to help reduce some of the swelling.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask as he presses the cloth against your other eye. Until now, other than the sound of running water from the tap, a silence had fallen over the two of you as he focuses on the task at hand.
“I’m thinking we’re going to go downstairs for a late night snack and some tea. Does that sound good to you?” He sets the washcloth aside, laying it out so that it can dry.
“That sounds perfect.”
#bruce wayne x reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader#batman x fem!reader#bruce wayne x you#batman x you#dc x reader#dc x you#batman imagine#bruce wayne imagine#age gap verse#my writing
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When a High Lord is powerless.
summary: Eris x human reader, reader is sick, Eris is freaking out.
a/n: since i'm just getting over a sickness I wrote this to feel better about myself. enjoy
Warnings: none
wordcount: 1.1k
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Eris pulled at his hair, helpless at the scene before him.
You were sick. The night before you told him it was a “common cold.”
“It’s a human thing I guess, since you ethereal fae don’t ever get the sniffles.”
He had never been around anyone ill. Fae got injured. Accelerated healing made it so only deadly blows would do any real harm. But it was never anything invisible that would wound, it was magic, blades, fire. Yesterday you had been perfect. Eris listed the things he saw you do in his mind: breakfast, ride through the groves, read, play a game of chess… all the usual things that kept you busy.
“High Lord, I beg, don’t touch the High Lady. She has a very high fever and we must lower her temperature.” The words were a blow to his gut. A contradiction to the very instincts that urged him forward, closer to you.
“High Lord, please.” The healer looked at him with wide eyes. He could not find malice in them, only worry to match his own. “What can I do?”
The healer sighed and wiped her brow. “If you could find ice, it would help the fever.”
He nodded, exiting the room at once. In all his years his magic, his fire had never been the cause of his self loathing. It was the fire that kept him going in the dark days when Beron was alive. The same fire that kept you warm in the cold Autumn nights when you first arrived was now aggravating the monster that ravaged your body.
He winnowed to the border with Winter as soon as he stepped out of your chambers. Scooping chunks of ice and snow and praying to whatever gods might hear him that it would be enough. That they might spare you.
Would a god implore him in a bargain? Your health for his magic. If it would bring you harm when you needed help he would be rid of it entirely. Or perhaps his immortality. There’s no him without you, not anymore. He might trade his lifespan for a human one. You’ve said that you have sixty years if you’re lucky. That would be enough… what god might- “Oh thank the Cauldron you found some! The ice in the kitchens ran out.” The healer yanks the bag from him and begins to coat your body in the frigid substance. You moan, discomfort rousing you from sleep.
“Eris… where is he-”
“I’m right here, love.” Your hand reaches for his, but the healers instructions were clear. Heat would worsen your condition and he was a walking furnace. “I’m right here, the healers say the cold will help with the fever.”
“I don’t- I don’t like this Eris, I’m cold. Hold me, please…” He can’t stand it. The paleness of your skin, the heaviness in your eyes and the dark circles beneath. Your teeth are chattering. He steps closer. “High Lord! She is merely uncomfortable, the ice is helping. Please try to remain calm.”
He fumes. “Then make her comfortable! She’s your High Lady! If harm comes her way I will not hesitate-”
“Don’t yell, my darling. I’m alright… just a bit cold is all.” Your voice is barely a whisper as it slaps him across the face.
“I apologize, I’m worried about my mate.”
The healer huffs in acknowledgement and returns to her ministrations. “It’s just a cold Eris, I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Back in the Human Lands my mother would make me broth and I’d be back to normal.”
“What kind of broth?”
Then he was in the kitchen. No cooks were on duty in the middle of the night so he followed a recipe from a book, which he ignored a soon as he foud a medicinal journal. He boiled anything he could find with healing properties to make an unappetizing broth but at the very least it would help your body fight.
“This smells terrible.”
“Humor me.” You gag as you get another whiff but manage to down a few sips. The lukewarm liquid soothes your throat so, against your tastebuds screaming otherwise, you sigh in relief. “Is that better?”
You nod and give him a quarter of a smile.
“Is there nothing else I can do?”
“You can brush my hair.” Eris looks towards the healer for her approval. “So long as you only touch her with a brush, it should be fine, High Lord.”
He massages your scalp with the soft bristles of the brush andthen proceeds to rid your hair of the tangles being in bed had caused. If he was being honest, it looked like a bird’s nest. He’s as gentle as he can, and a loud snore makes his heart jump to his throat. You’d fallen asleep again.
“Her fever is better, I will return by sunrise to check again. If anything happens please do not hesitate to call, High Lord.”
“Thank you, Willa.” She nods and pats him on the shoulder. “She’ll be fine, my Lord.”
It’s morning when Eris wakes up in the chair beside your bed. A sneeze that startled both of you was his good morning. “I need a handkerchief.” You request while covering your nose and mouth with your hands. Eris digs into his pocket and gives you his. “Don’t look at me while do this, sweetheart.”
“Why not?”
You roll your eyes and just urge him to “look away!” He does and what follows in a wet, squelching sound he cannot imagine is coming from the beautiful creature on the bed. “All done,” you say in a defeated tone. The energy you had gathered from sleep had been wiped out by a sneeze and a blow of the nose.
“How are you feeling?” It takes you a while to reply as you cuddle up closer to the pillows substituting Eris’ body. “A bit better, I suppose.”
“You said you’d be back to normal today.” What if you had taken a turn for the worse? Had the fever been too much?
“It’s not an exact science, my love. But my throat doesn’t hurt anymore, so I am better.”
“You’ll be the death of me I swear.” You reach your hand out to his. He hesitates.
“I don’t have a fever anymore, hold my hand.” He has no power agaisnt his mate and has been craving your touch for hours. Your hand is icy in his, but its just as soft as he remembers it. “See, I’m right here, not going anywhere yet.”
Yet. Because you had your days numbered, illness or not. He would never be ready to part. Never wants to face eternity with out you. So he reaches out to the gods again, hoping at least one would take up his bargain.
#acotar#acosf#acowar#acofas#azriel shadowsinger#acomaf#acotar fanfiction#a court of thorns and roses#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin#autumn#autumn court#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra#eris acotar#eris x reader#eris vandaddy#eris x oc#eris
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Have Faith In Me - GF!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1
I said I'd never let you go, and I never did. I said I'd never let you fall, and I always meant it.
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: After leaving Woodsboro for a fresh start, you’re shaken up when Ghostface resurfaces. Little did you know, the person you were in love with is a part of it.
Contains: Oral - f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex(pulling out thooo), angst at the end💁🏼♀️
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: I NEEDED to write another Ghostface Ethan fic. And then I realized I don’t have a series yet where he’s the bad guy, so here ya go💕Also, still working on Creep part 2 even though its been a while(I think I made it a little too much lmao).
You were never supposed to know that Ethan had a part in why people were being murdered, at least not yet. He was disappointed in himself for being so careless, so stupid. His thoughts were racing as he tried to think of anything he could say to you to make you want to keep quiet. He knew his dad and sister would be furious if their plan was destroyed because of Ethan’s negligence, but he was more worried about your safety, which he’d already begged his family for.
It started off as a normal day. Well, not really. After two students and a professor were killed close to campus, your morning classes had been cancelled for the day. With the recent killings, you didn’t want to be alone. You called Ethan, your boyfriend’s groggy voice making you smile once he answered.
“Were you still sleeping?” you asked, as he yawned.
“Classes are cancelled. What else am I supposed to do?” he asked, as you giggled. “Wait, what are you doing today? Are you by yourself?”
“Yeah, I was going to call Tara, but I know she’s probably exhausted from being questioned all night,” you said, as he dramatically scoffed at your words.
“So I was the second person you wanted to call,” he said, the fake annoyance in his voice making you roll your eyes. “You should come to my dorm. We can cuddle, watch movies, and Chad’s not here so we can do some other stuff, too.”
“I can’t believe you’re suggesting sex when there’s someone out here killing people. That’s one of the first rules, don’t have sex,” you said, as Ethan started to chuckle.
“Okay, Mindy,” he teased, “You sounded just like her for a second.”
“Hey, I want to live, and I want you to live, too,” you said, as you slid your shoes on your feet. “I’m leaving now, I’ll be at your dorm soon.”
Your dorm was only one building away from Ethan’s, so the walk was very short, and the sun was shining, but you were still nervous as you walked a little faster to get to his dorm, just in case. You’d had previous encounters with Ghostface in Woodsboro, and after Judy was killed right in front of her house in the middle of the day, you felt like you could never be too careful.
When you made it to Ethan’s dorm, you knocked before the door opened, a sleepy smile on his face as he stepped to the side to let you come in. He was shirtless, his flannel pajamas hanging lowly on his hips. You bit your lip for a second as you checked him out, before he cleared his throat.
Your eyes snapped from his abs to his face, his lips twisted into a smirk as you felt your blush spread across your cheeks.
"You checking me out?" he teased as he walked over to you, his hand going underneath your chin to tilt your head up before he leaned down to kiss you.
"Mhm," you mumbled into the kiss. He stood there, his lips on yours for a minute before he pulled away.
He sat on his bed, making grabby hands at you as you sat down beside him. When he laid back to relax his head on the pillows, you moved with him, your head resting on his chest as your legs tangled with his.
"Do you want to talk about what's going on? With the Ghostface stuff?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "I know this must be scarier for you than it is for me."
You sighed as his hand ran over your hip, thinking about how terrifying everything was in Woodsboro the year before. You were trying so hard to not think too much into it, because you were sure you survived last time out of pure luck, and the odds of you making it out unscathed again wasn't very likely.
You didn't even know your eyes were watering until the tears trickled, running over your cheekbone before they made it to Ethan's bare chest.
"Hey, are you okay?" Ethan asked, as you sat up and placed your face in your hands. He sat up, too, pulling your hands away so he could see you. Guilt for what he and his family had done and everything they still had to do punched him in the chest once he saw your panicked, red eyes, and your bottom lip quivering. "I won't let anything happen to you, baby."
"I just can't believe this is happening. We thought leaving Woodsboro meant we would never have to deal with this again," you said, your voice shaking as Ethan offered a sympathetic smile. "When I tried to sleep last night, all I could see behind my eyelids was Sam's psycho boyfriend running at me with his knife."
Ethan shook his head, trying to remain calm. He knew Richie tried to kill you that night before he met you, because he read all the police reports and files his dad got after everything happened. At first, you were supposed to be just another body that was going to drop before the Kirsch family fled the country. At least, that was the plan before Ethan fell in love with you.
"I promise you, you're going to be okay. I won't let anything happen to you," he said, a small sob slipping past your lips.
"You can't promise that nothing will happen to me, Ethan," you said, wiping the tears off your cheeks. "Just like I can't promise that nothing will happen to you."
Ethan pulled you close to him before he kissed the top of your head.
"I don't want you to be alone. If you aren't with me, I want you with someone at all times, okay?" he said, as you nodded. "Are you going to Tara's when I have to leave for Econ later?"
"Yeah, will you walk me there before you go to class tonight?"
"Of course, baby."
You still had a few hours before he had to leave for class, so you cuddled up with him and decided to watch something funny to lighten the somber mood. As you and Ethan laughed, the terrifying reality that was your life wasn't weighing as heavy on your mind, because you really did feel safe with him. You knew he'd protect you if it came down to it.
You kept stealing glances at your boyfriend's still-shirtless body, paying extra attention to the way his arms flexed whenever he shifted beside you. It didn't take long for Ethan to notice, and once he realized that you had stopped watching the movie and was more interested in watching him, he leaned over to shut his laptop.
"Do you not want to watch the movie anymore?" you asked, as you quickly looked up to look at his face, the same smirk from earlier back on his lips.
"It didn't seem like you did," he teased, as he leaned in to kiss you. "Do you think oral counts in the whole 'Don't have sex' thing?"
"Is this your way of asking me to suck your dick?" you said, laughing a little as he bit his bottom lip.
"No, this is me asking to eat you out," he said, your eyes growing wide at his words, your breath hitching in your throat. "If you want me to."
"I don't think oral counts," you said, your smirk matching his before he pushed you back and hovered over you, connecting his lips to yours. "We do have to leave soon-ish, though, if you're going to walk me to Tara's before class."
"I have plenty of time to make you cum," he mumbled against your lips, before he pulled away to sit up.
His hands went to your leggings, hooking his fingers under the waistband before he slid them down your thighs. After they were off, his hand went straight to your pussy, teasing you as he rubbed you over the material that was getting wetter by the second in between your legs.
You relaxed under his touch, your legs spreading wider for him as he added a little more pressure. One of Ethan's favorite things in bed was teasing you, because he loved how whiny your voice sounded when you couldn't take it anymore, but as he thought more about the time he didn't have, he quickly pulled your panties down, leaving the lower half of your body exposed to him.
He scooted further down the bed, and once he was settled between your thighs, his eyes connected with your needy ones. He watched you as his tongue connected with your pussy, your mouth parting as you took a deep breath.
One of your hands lazily rested in his curls as he placed gentle licks to your clit, every thought running through your mind fading as you focused on how he was making you feel. The anticipation for him to do more had your skin tingling, but before you had the chance to say anything, his mouth moved lower, his tongue dipping inside your dripping pussy.
He was alternating between swirling his tongue inside of you and licking from your entrance to your clit, your hips squirming at the feeling as he tried to keep you still.
"Fuck," you moaned, your hand tangled tightly in his hair as you looked down at him. His mouth moved even faster, eating your pussy like he was craving it. He sucked your clit into his mouth, the delicious pressure making your back arch off the bed. "Oh my god," you whimpered, his teeth gently grazing it before he sucked a little harder.
Ethan knew that feeling was starting to build as he watched you, your brows furrowing, your whimpers slipping out through the corners of your mouth as your teeth tightly held your bottom lip. You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance before he slid his middle and ring ringer into you with ease, and he wasted no time to curve them, making sure to hit that spot.
"So close," you whimpered, as he chuckled with your clit in his mouth and kept going.
Your hand in his hair was shaking, your toes were curling against his sheets, your breathing was so heavy. Ethan loved seeing you like this, so close to the edge, and knowing he was the one that was making you feel that pleasure made his cock throb even harder than it already was.
He pressed his fingers a little harder, the feeling making your eyes roll back as you whined out, the hot feeling spreading across your body as your thighs clenched around his head. You were a whimpering mess as your body rocked from the waves of pleasure running through it.
As you came down from your high, your body relaxing against his bed as he pulled away, he watched you in awe as you caught your breath. He always thought you were beautiful, but your post-orgasm glow was his favorite. You lazily opened your eyes to see him staring at you, a smile playing on your lips.
"I know it's against the rules, but I need to have you inside of me," you said, as he laughed and slid his pajamas and boxers down in one swift motion.
"Condom or no condom?" he asked, waiting for your answer before he crawled on top of you.
"Just pull out," you said, a smirk playing on your lips as he quickly got settled between your legs.
"We have to be quick," he said, glancing over at the Star Wars clock on his night stand. "Is that okay?"
"Mhm," you said, as he slid inside of you.
He gave you a minute, his thrusts slow as your pussy adjusted to his size, before he sped up. You clung to his biceps as his hands were pressed flatly against his bed on either side of you, the tip of his cock slamming into your g-spot with every snap of his hips.
"Shit," you whimpered through your clenched teeth, your legs wrapping around his waist so he could go even deeper.
It didn't take long for your eyes to start rolling back again, the words you were trying to say coming out as babbles that Ethan couldn't understand.
"Look at you, so drunk off my cock," he teased, as you quickly nodded your head, your moans getting louder as he slid in and out of you. "Taking it so fucking well."
He grunted once he felt your nails dig into his arm, the stinging sensation turning him on even more. He went faster, and before you had the chance to process that you were about to cum, your body started to jolt, a loud cry flying out of your mouth as your pussy clenched him.
"Fuck, gonna cum," he moaned, before he pulled out.
As soon as he did, the realization that you were still wearing your shirt hit him as he covered it in his cum. You were too caught up in coming down from your own orgasm that you didn't notice, until Ethan started laughing to himself.
"What?" you asked, your breathing still labored as he shook his head and ran his hand through his curls.
"Uh...you wanna borrow a shirt before we leave?" he asked, as you glanced down to look at your shirt before you started laughing.
"Please," you said, as he leaned down to place a kiss to your lips.
He helped you get off his bed before he grabbed the clothes he wanted to wear out of the laundry basket full of stuff he hadn't folded yet, as you walked over to his dresser to search for your favorite shirt of his.
His back was turned towards you, but once he heard the drawer open, his head snapped in your direction, his heart pounding in his chest as you placed your hand over your mouth.
You saw the knife with the dried blood on it resting on top of his folded shirts, your eyes growing wide as your stomach felt queasy. You hesitantly turned your head to him, your eyes watering as he stepped closer.
"Baby," he said softly, as you took a step back. "This isn't what it looks like."
"So that's not a fucking bloody knife in your dresser?" you snapped, as he darted towards you, wincing at the loudness of your voice before his hand covered over your mouth.
"Shut the fuck up," he whispered, his eyes wide as he backed you towards the wall.
In that moment, you knew the person you were in love with was a psycho, fear coursing through your veins as his dark eyes looked into yours.
"I can't explain everything right now," he said, his face softening as his hand was still pressed against you. "But nothing's going to happen to you. You can't say anything, baby. You need to keep quiet, it's the only way I can keep you safe."
You hesitantly nodded, the tears running down your face pooling against the side of his hand. You were trying so hard to choke back your sobs as he groaned.
"I'm so fucking stupid," he said, as he took a deep breath. "If I let go of your mouth, will you be quiet?"
You nodded again, as he slowly pulled his hand away. You glanced at the floor as he stood in front of you, your chin quivering as he sighed.
"Baby, I'm sorry," he said, as he placed his hand under your chin and lifted your head to face him. You were still refusing to make eye contact. "I'm serious about you not saying anything. I'd never hurt you, but who I'm working with would. You know how long it took for me to convince them that you didn't need to die?"
You took a shaky breath as you looked at the person you thought you knew really well a few minutes ago, the realization hitting you that you don't know him at all.
"Can I trust you to not say anything?" he asked, a few more tears slipping past your lash line as you nodded. "I'll tell you everything later, okay?"
"Okay," you whispered, as he walked over to grab a shirt out of the drawer that was still open, and handed it to you.
"You need to get dressed, baby. I'm going to be late for class."
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sanji has a crush you ♡
-> alternative title: sanji's ass is gay as fuck and you gotta deal with his flustered ass desperately trying to win you over.
-> kinda rushed aat the end
sanji is exhibiting normal sanji behavior, cutely obsessed with you and everything about you. he's soooooooooooooooooo obsessed. i'm sorry i couldnt help it. forewarning: if you are scared of obsessively in love men DO NOT READ THIS lmfao (that's a joke, but he is rlly in love w u and overwhelmingly so)
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sanji x male reader
— just sanji crushing on you and acting like a whole ass middle schooler with a crush, but not in the "i'm gonna pull your hair because i like you, but i don't want you to know" type of way, rather a, "i, uhm, found this pretty flower that...i think you would like...do you like it :3"
you were lounging on the deck of sunny, basking in the sun beside robin and nami. the three of you were peacefully enjoying the breeze, while the girls were talking about their recent adventures and you happily listening on to their stories.
when suddenly, a shadow covers the sun from hitting your skin. lifting the glasses from your eyes, you grin when you notice that the figure is sanji. and he's looking everywhere but you.
"hi, [name]," he greets in a quiet voice, eyes darting everywhere but your bare torso. if he were to look at your glistening skin any longer, he might just get a really bad nosebleed...it was tempting for him, though. you were so handsome, he'd get as many deadly nosebleeds if he needed to just to stare at you longer. but for the sake of keeping you clean of his nosebleed, he continued averting his eyes.
robin and nami stopped their chatter and smiled at each other when they recognized the flustered look on sanji's face.
"hi, sanji," you said in return, leaning against your elbows to comfortably look up at him, "what's that you have there?" you ask politely,
the blonde jumped at the question, clearing his throat as he finally met your eyes, "oh, this, i thought you'd want a drink...it's your favorite," your eyes widened at that, making sanji's heart do leaps.
at moments like this, he loves being the ship's chef. there was no one else on board that could make you react like this, only his careful expertise as being a chef could do this to you. it made him feel important and his face got redder at that fact.
"wow! thanks! you're like a mind reader, i was starting to get a bit too hot-"
"do you want me to move the umbrella more to cover you?" sanji asked immediately, happy to be of service to you. you laughed at his eagerness, shaking your head.
"i think nami and robin are using it right now, i'll be alright. i don't want them to burn up,"
"oh..." sanji's voice trailed off as he lifted his head to bravely look towards the women on the side, "nami-san, robin-chan, is it alright if [name] uses the umbrella for now?" he very politely asked, shoulders square and head held high.
nami laughed at him while robin took it upon herself to answer, "no, it's alright with us," and sanji was bolting over to lift the umbrella and position it right above you, a meek, but proud smile on his face.
"sanji, you didn't have to," you said softly, but then you thanked him for his efforst in making you comfortable. that was enough to make him burst into a tomato red color. "and, by the way, this is delicious! i love it so much, sanji,"
"i love you so much."
"sorry?"
"oh, nothing!! i didn't say anything, [name]!! i said, nothing!!!" and he was running off before you could tease him further.
he slammed the door to the kitchen shut and then repeatedly hit his head against the wood as he muttered degrading words to himself, "idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot!!!"
"well, you are an idiot, we knew that, but now you're acting borderline insane, what's up with you, pervy cook?"
of course, zoro had to be in the kitchen. sanji whipped his head around and screamed at the top of his lungs, "out of my kitchen, marimo!!!"
this made zoro laugh in his face and then leave at his request, muttering something about how love sick sanji was and how obvious he was about it.
— sanji carefully crafted each dish he makes for you, making it look pretty and extra nice. cooking is his speciality and acts of service are his love language. combining the two is the closest he can get to confessing his actual feelings to you.
the crew was lively in the kitchen and you were hidden away in the crow's nest. sanji had drowned you in treats throughout the day, leaving your appetite for the dinner not very big. you assured him (more than 20 times) that you indeed felt full, you weren't skipping meals, and you were already satisfied. that was the only way he let you skip out on dinner.
but while the crew was eating, sanji was still behind the stove. his fingers nimbly moved in decorating the platter very carefully, holding his breath every now and then in anticipation.
"whatcha making, sanji?! extras for me?!" luffy excitedly asked, coming bounding around the counter and standing beside the chef.
immediately, sanji kicked him away and warned him, "do not!! touch this, this isn't yours, luffy! i'm serious, don't even think about it!" sanji looked at the men of the crew, "that goes for the rest of you too, this isn't yours, filthy batards!" and his voice softened as he spoke with a smile to robin and nami, "if you want a dessert, ladies, i wouldn't mind making seconds for you two!"
"it's alright, sanji-kun, just focus on making [name]'s," nami said with a wave of her hand, a knowing look in her eyes.
"yes, i am quite full of the dinner you served already. it was delicious as usual,"
there wasn't a grand shift of emotion on sanji's face as he politely thanked the ladies for their kind words. but then his cheeks erupted in color when he finally caught on to what nami said, "ah! no, no, this isn't for [name]-"
"there's no denying it, sanji, just keep spoiling him rotten and leaving us to starve. even if he is a man just like us, for some reason he's not a "filthy bastard" but [name]~" usopp said in exasperation, eyeing the dessert sanji was making with longing, "we wouldn't expect you to spare us any of that...anyway..."
sanji's red face from embarassmnet instead turned into one of annoyance, "shut your mouth and quit complaining! i'm not spoiling him - he deserves this! he didn't come and eat dinner with you guys, meaning there was more servings for you! be thankful to him! ... and don't call him a filthy bastard!! he's very clean and neat, unlike you guys!"
"ah, yes, lord and savior [name]!" usopp said, clapping his hands together as if he were praying to the man, "i wish he were here right now, though, to save us from sanji's fury, ughh," usopp sighed at the end of his sentence, making sanji's eyebrow quirk in annoyance.
"calling me a god, usopp?" your voice rang in the dining hall, making everyone's heads snap to you. "that's a pretty hefty title,"
"woah, that was just like that enel guy - you came when we summoned you! do you have ears all around sunny, [name]?" luffy asked, wonder in his eyes as he walked towards the door, "you should teach us that sometime!"
you smiled at your captain, allowing him to pass you with ease as he went to blow off his energy on the deck. chopper and usopp grinned at you as they followed after luffy, going to entertain each other. robin and nami walked past with kind smiles, the orange haired girl winking at you. franky pat you on the back, a thumbs up being thrown at you, only making you more confused about what you possibly missed.
brook was singing on his way out, something about young, forbidden love. you didn't see it, but sanji threw his head in his hands in embarassment. zoro was the last to leave, whispering to you to, "fix the idiot cook already, it's getting tiring dealing with his bullshit everyday," and then leaving you with no other explanation.
"what was up with all that," you rhetorically asked, chuckling underneath your breath and making sanji just shake his head in response. "sanji, did you forget to serve that to robin and nami? if you want, i can give it to them?"
sanji shot his hand out, catching your own that was reaching for the plate he was just preparing. realizing his actions, he immediately released you from his hold and shook his head, "no, no, it's...um...it's not for them."
the blonde cursed himself in his head, wishing he didn't become so blubbery in his words whenever he spoke to you. but he couldn't control it! not when you were looking at him so gently, so patiently. god, just thinking about you looking at him made him weak in the knees. because that meant you were just focusing on him. sure, you could be thinking of others things that weren't him (his heart literally shatters at that notion), but in the moment, you were physically turned to and only paying attention to him.
it made him almost sigh dreamily. his heart was already beating faster and his stomach was filled with butterflies.
"they're not?" you leaned over the counter, taking a seat as you did so.
"no, they're," he took in a deep breath, fists clenched at his sides, "they're for you,"
your eyes widened. and sanji internally cursed you for being so effortlessly handsome, while tilting your head in confusion, "but, sanji, i told you you don't need to prepa-"
"i wanted to," sanji cut you off, quickly apologized for doing so, before continuing, "i wanted to make your favorite, just to give you something to eat before bed,"
you smiled, and sanji internally cursed you again for being so sweet, and gently rubbed his arm, "thanks, sanji, you're so kind,"
he bit his lip in content, trying to hide his happiness as he simply nodded his head. there was no way his voice wouldn't shake if he spoke now.
wordlessly, you moved your hand off of his arm and picked up the spoon from the plate. humming in content once the food hit your tongue to let sanji know that his expertise did, in fact, not fail him.
"it's so delicious, sanji!" he was going to thank you, but was cut off when the spoon you had just used was shoved into his mouth. you were grinning at the surprised look on his face, "let's share!"
sanji got a nosebleed. because the gears in his head quickly turned. the spoon in his mouth, which you just used, meant that you two just...indirectly kissed.
his head flew backwards and blood was streaming down his nose. the last thing he saw before passing out was your worried face above his own.
— sanji often times thinks he looks like an idiot pining over you. he just feels so awkward. he cannot mess this up or else his life might seriously just cease having meaning. he's never felt so serious about someone before. it was always fleeting thoughts of how someone was attractive in his eyes. now, with you in front of him everyday, looking like an actual angel (or handsome devil, both are fitting, he thinks with an odd smile). he just can't help his thoughts from running wild. what if after your pirate adventures, the two of you settled down together? happy. near some shoreline, not a worry in the world. sanji just catches himself thinking of a future with you in it, despite the two of you not even dating or being remotely romantic towards one another...not yet, at least.
it was nighttime and the both of you were on night watch. you were scheduled to be in the crow's nest and sanji confidently took it upon himself to join you out of courtesy. in the crow's nest, you were looking out at the calm sea while sanji was just looking at you, admiring you.
"sanji," you called out, your eyes still trained on the sea, "you've been staring at me for the past 10 minutes,"
the man gulped nervously, wondering if this would be the moment. the moment he finally confessed to you. it's been long enough for him to be sure of his feelings (he was in love with you), this was the perfect setting - just the two of you, and it was all calm.
but what if you rejected him? then his heart would be laid out in front of you, you wouldn't reciprocate, and then you'd have to sail together for however long needed, knowing in the back of your mind. he would know you didn't like him back and you would know that he one-sidedly liked you.
it was too painful of a loss. that was the main reason why he hasn't ever thought about pursuing his confession to you.
"make it 11 minutes now," you chuckled, finally turning your head to him and examining his confused features, "what are you thinking about, sanji?"
you. he bit his tongue to prevent that single word from slipping past his lips.
"nothing," he said quickly, maybe too quickly.
out of nowhere, your hand went to the back of his neck and pulled him in close. he turned rigid at the action immediately, turning into a stiff statue as you stared right into his soul.
"why're you lying to me?" you asked quietly and sanji almost collapsed into your lap and began begging for forgiveness. you, obviously, weren't actually mad or annoyed at him for his little white lie, but sanji didn't want you thinking he lied so easily.
that wasn't a good quality to have as your boyfriend, your lover. so sanji quickly said, "i'm sorry," with a weak tone and looked right into your beautiful e/c eyes with nothing but sorrow.
you could so easily spur an immense amount of strong emotions from sanji. he felt like he was being played like a toy. but, also, he didn't mind. not if it was you. he didn't mind a lot of things if it was you.
"sanji, why do you treat me so differently?" you just saying his name made him feel like he wanted to just collapse on your lap and stay there. be nurtured by you.
"i don't mean to," he answered, "i really don't. i can stop, if it makes you uncomfortable, i'll stop,"
you shook your head and sanji felt some strands of your hair brush against his skin. goosebumps formed at those points. even the strands of your hair made him react so vicerally to you.
"no, that's not what i meant," finally, you released your hold on his neck and leaned back to create a more comfortable space between you two. unconsciously, sanji leaned in towards you. "i mean, have i done some amazing thing to you before? it kind of feels like you're making some thing up to me, like you're repaying a debt..." your voice trailed off awkwardly, "you don't have to act so doting to me, sanji, for whatever reason - especially if it's to repay a debt. i don't want you stressing about something silly like that,"
what? sanji was confused. you thought, this entire time, he was just being nice to you to make up for something. there's no way. he wondered how oblivious you had been ot his advances. have you been unaware this whole time? was he perhaps not acting as obvious as he thought he was?
that was slightly comforting to think about, if that was the case. but also a part of sanji felt as if he failed. he was pursuing you. behind all his blunders of stuttering words, unhealthily red faces - he wanted you to know that he was pursuing you. he wanted to hint at his feelings so you could hopefully pick up on them.
"that's not why i act the way i do," sanji carefully said, watching your reaction. and when your face twisted into confusion, he urged himself to take this chance to continue, "i wanted you to know...want you to know, i mean, that i really, really, really..." he took in a deep breath, offering a weak smile, "i really like you, [name], and i was too scared to tell you like i am now, so i was catering to you to hopefully make it obvious. well, i see how ambiguous that my actions are now and i wish i had done it different so i could properly have wooed you, but, it's too late for that. i wish i had done it more-"
he was cut off when you suddenly moved forward and pressed your lips to his. he melted into your touch immediately, his body reacting so naturally to yours. his eyes fluttered shut, intenally sighing in relief at how his confession did in fact work out in his favor.
and it took a lot out of him to move away from you, but he did need air to breathe, unfortunately. if only he could just breathe you in and live off of you alone.
he sighed, chest heaving as he really wrapped his head around what just happeneed.
"i know," you said softly, a smile on your handsome face that was literally captivating him, "i knew, i mean. just wanted to hear you say it,"
sanji blinked. were you...taunting him? no, teasing was the more appropiate word because you weren't hurting him with your words. but your mischevious grin and glint in your eyes did tell him that you were in fact teasing him.
"uhm, you knew?" he repeated, making you chuckle and pinch his cheek lovingly.
"i wanted you to confess to me," you clarified, leaning forward and playing with the strands of his blonde hair around your finger, "i though you'd sound cute confessing," you leaned in further, lips ghosting over his, "and you did,"
sanji's face was exploding a dangerous shade of red. god, this was so embrassing. but, your lips were on his again and he wiped away any self preservation and completely gave himself to you.
you pulled away quickly, speaking in breathy tones, "i like you a lot too, sanji," his heart skipped multiple beats, then started racing even faster when you gently pushed him down onto the cushioned sofa, "been wanting to kiss you like this since i joined the crew,"
sanji was going to pursue more answers, but your hands carding through his hair made him speechless.
"been wanting to kiss you all over like this for so long," you peppered short kisses all over his skin, making him feel like he was on fire.
"why didn't you?" he quietly asked, making you pull away and grin down at him.
at this point, he was completely laid out on the sofa, his legs spread and hugged around your waist as you leaned yourself over him. the hands on either side of his head felt like a cage that he definitely didn't mind being in. with you looking down at him from above, he wouldn't mind staying there forever.
"i liked imagining you confessing to me," you grinned, "plus, i wasn't sure if you were even into me. i heard from the others that you were exclusviely nice to the women of the ship, so i didn't want to bother pursuing you either."
so, you were basically saying that you and sanji could have been together even sooner if he had just showed more obviously to begin with that he was deeply enamored by you.
sanji was cursing his past self very colorfully right now.
"sorry for being so mean to you, though," a bashful apology was enough for sanji.
and he missed the feeling of your lips on his, so he leaned up to meet you halfway, but you stopped him, "do you forgive me?"
"yes, yes, i do," sanji breaths were hitched from how excited and happy he was.
you grinned at his reaction, feeling proud that you were the cause of it, "aren't you glad we waited, though?"
sanji almost shook his head no on instinct. if he could have had this sooner rather than later, he would've taken the former over the latter any day. you saw the way his head stuttered in place, unsure of the right answer. so you leaned down, right next to his ear and sent shivers down his spine by whispering, "cause this is gonna feel so much better now after such a long wait, right, sanji?"
#sanji male reader#sanji male reader fluff#one piece imagines#one piece x reader#one piece x male reader#one piece male reader imagines#sanji x male reader#sanji x reader#male reader imagines#x male reader#sanji imagines#x reader#gooooodododoododdd i love this man#WANT HIM SO BAD#HASHTAG SMASH#HASHTAG SMASH SANJI#sanji is gay
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SYNOPSIS: Simon Riley hates going to the clinic. Especially when you're the nurse.
PAIRING: Nurse¡Reader x Simon Riley.
WORD COUNT: 995.
WARNINGS: (not proofread!)
NOTES: I just wanted to write for Simon SO BAD. I can bring more of these two, if you guys like it, of course🫶🏻
Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley isn't a big fan of going to the doctor. Not even the pharmacy. Especially the pharmacy. Because he knows he will find someone even more annoying there. The newbie nurse was a rock in his shoes from the beginning.
As for you, the recent BOLC (Officer Basic Leadership Course) formed as a nurse, you were thrilled. After weeks of training hard to be a military nurse, you're finally where you wished to be. As you got approved for working into the Meadowview Medical Clinic, you were quickly brought to a meeting, clarifying that not every soldier is as the others. This one, a lieutenant to be more clear. You were marveling about it. A lieutenant that never shows his face, asks for privacy at the top of all.
—”He asks for no photos of his face, not many people in the room as he's in. And, oh, of course. The lieutenant requires a private room for attendance.” — Your boss was explaining anything as some interrogation kept running through your mind. You couldn't understand properly. But you agreed with anything, you even had to sign a privacy contract, seems like he takes it very seriously.
It took weeks for you to see him actually. Your boss told you the lieutenant didn't like coming into the hospital. You thought the man could have some trauma. Or, to make him a bit less scary, you thought he was only scared of needles, since that's totally normal amongst adults. But it was funny imagining a buff soldier scared of it. And you knew he was buff. You were looking at his military personnel file, he seemed to have quite the experience in the position, by the long time he's serving the country. It said on the paper, that he was 1.93 meters, he was actually more tall than what you thought. There were some notes especially for those in pharmacy counseling reference, which includes you.
“Enjoys tattoo art + animals.”
You were clicking your tongue on the top of your mouth. That was unexpected. So, he might have these both things.
“Drink of choice —› Earl Grey.”
As you know, it was a british tea with black tea on the base and some bergamot orange oil. A weird choice of drink, but maybe he had a motive behind it.
“Assess for animal support program.”
You tilted your head to the side. Seems like your deduction was correct. You started to wonder what kind of animal one lieutenant would have. Maybe a scary animal like a snake? Or a defenseless fat cat? That would be funny.
In seconds, you were on your desk, flipping the papers of his file, the delicacy in your touch not so needed, but was there. In seconds after, a knock took your concentration. You immediately dropped everything and got up, clearing your throat and adjusting your stance as you opened the door. There was a man. Or, THE man, his size taking almost all the door frame. The man in front of you was enormous, you weren't small yourself, you were quite taller too, but you had no chance against him. He was staring at you. Hiis almost black, almond eyes, painted in face paint, were full of some weird emotion. That got your stomach wobbly, you didn't know what to expect of him. Your boss was right beside him, smiling at you in a very unnatural way.
—”This is the lieutenant. He seems to be having a fracture on the nose. Could you please take the general infos for me before he goes to my room? I'm a bit busy.” — You nodded almost immediately, giving space for the big one to go inside. That was weird, your boss were so busy and yet, took time to brought him to your room?
He walks in, without a single word. He sat on the litter, his hands resting in the middle of his legs as he pressed his foot to the floor. You waited as your boss turned his back at you two, and closed the door, clearing your throat once again before coming closer to the lieutenant. From your coat, you took your tongue depressor.
—”Can you…take off your mask? I need to see it for the procedure.”
And he just shook his head, telling you he won't do it with his expression. His mask would only allow you to see his eyes.
—”Wait a minute, sir. You possibly broke your nose. If you can't take out your mask, I can't assess your situation.” — Your lips glued together, showing how that situation was nothing more than awkward. You couldn't understand a soldier that didn't take off his mask.
—”No way.”
The man had a strong British accent, you didn't heard him talking until now. But it was clear even with only two words.
—”Sir, please. I need you to cooperate. After all, why don't you take it off? Scared you're ugly?”
The words rolled off your tongue, your free hand coming to your mouth to try and take it back. Simon took a second. A few seconds. Gulped down some emotion you couldn't decipher and blinked at you. You were used to making jokes with the other patients. But they were a different case. They were not lieutenant Simon Riley.
—”Ya know, yer’ not the first one to tell me that. Try being more original next time.”
You didn't know what he meant with that. If he was trying to be sarcastic, he didn't show. His face sat still like a rock, that was to the bare minimum…weird. Maybe he wasn't good with emotions. Or he was just mad at you. Either way, the man in front of you took off his mask, holding it on his side very close. He was not what you expected. His face was not ugly at all. And seeing your face surprised, he gave you a smug smile. Seems like the lieutenant enjoys surprising people.
#fanfic#fictionalslvr#writing#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#cod mwii#ghost cod#cod
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