#tristan farnon x reader

[crowwriting]

Pleaseee write a Tristan fic where she is James’s sister coming to visit?? Xx

"Expectations" Tristan Farnon x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: None! Just fluff.

Word count: 2860

A/N: I am so SO sorry this took forever, I had a family member pass away recently, and just a lotta similar drama, so I haven't been able to make myself write lately. I was thinking a lot about Tristan from the books when I read this. I hope you enjoy, many apologies, I hope to get my next fic out promptly.

James Herriot, in all his infinite wisdom as your older brother, decided that you simply HAD to visit Darrowby. His two week stint back in Glasgow had come and went so quickly that you were most certain that he was getting home sick. You wouldn’t mention it though or your lovely, maybe slightly overbearing mother would never let him leave. 

You had agreed, of course, the flat you had grown up in had begun to feel stifling since James had left. The extra doting had really put a wrench in your new found freedom as an adult. 

James loved to point out that you could leave at any time, of course you didn’t believe him. Not now, when all you could do to keep the flat was work: same as your father. It was your little flat in Glasgow or the streets the way you saw it. Unless you decided to hop on a boat and disappear. Which had been a pleasant daydream you entertained yourself with. 

It was in fact a funny sensation as you stepped off the train at Darrowby station. The first thing that struck you was how quiet it was. The birds sang pleasantly, and a cool breeze blew calmingly against your cheeks. 

This was of course interrupted by the loud honking, and a cloud of dirt being blown in your face. 

‘Don’t worry Jim, Siegfried only forgot about you until,’ The boy behind the wheel of a well worn little car checked his wrist watch. ‘Fifteen minutes ago.’ 

James huffed. ‘Tristan! What are you doing driving my car!’ 

‘Oh calm down it’s not your car.’

‘Yes. It is.’ your brother was making those annoyed, slightly crazed eyes he was so practiced at. 

‘Just because my brother lets you use it doesn’t mean it’s yours.’ 

Tristan. Your brothers. . . best mate. Had certainly lived up to his name quite promptly too. 

‘By the way, did you know your break’s out? Barely made it down that last hill alive.’ Tristan leaned out the window, a roguish smile on his decidedly youthful face. 

You waved, giving him a smile. 

Tristan’s eyes went wide, ��Who’re you?’ he directed the question to James.

‘My sister, Y/N.’ 

Tristan beamed, his head turning almost cartoonishly back to you; his hand flying out of the window to offer a shake. ‘So glad you came ‘round, I’m Tristan.’ 

‘Pleasure to meet you.’ You shook his hand, having to bend slightly at the knee to meet it. 

‘Hop in then. Gotta stop by Old Harris’ place.’ 

‘What did you say was wrong with the calf?’ James asked.

‘Broke it’s leg. Yeah.’ Tristan explained as you rounded the old stone building to look for the barn. 

‘And why exactly did we have to come out here right away. I’ve literally just got back.’ 

‘Oh you know Siegfried. 

‘Why aren’t you helping again,’ you leaned towards Tristan as you watched James’ operate. 

‘Siegfried doesn’t trust me,’ he nodded. His arms were crossed, and he was watching rather intently. 

‘Why?’ 

Tristan looked at you like he had just realized you had never met his brother before. ‘Oh he’s a lunatic.’ 

 He laughed, a broad infectious laugh you couldn’t help but join in. 

Skeldale house was undoubtedly one of your favorite places you had seen. Certainly the expansive scenery was lovely and you thought you could probably never get enough of it, this place took your breath away. You could hardly believe your brother had been living in such a nice home, so open and breathable. You were starting to resent him for hogging it all. 

‘Tristan!’ a sudden voice boomed just as you were hanging up your jacket. 

‘Aargh!’ Tristan groaned, dumping his jacket on the sofa with a little more force than strictly necessary. 

Through the main hall came who you quickly realized was Siegfried, holding a paper, and looking ready for a lecture.

‘What is it now? Did I lose the chloroform? Burn down the chicken coop? Botch a surgery you wouldn’t let me touch?’ 

‘What? No. No. I just wanted to give you this. From the bit you did last week.’ He handed his younger brother an envelope. 

Tristan’s eyes widened as Siegfried seemed to realize you were there. 

‘Hello, uh. Who is this?’ he asked James. 

‘Y.N Herriot. Nice to meet you.’ You interrupted before James could speak. 

‘How wonderful,’ he held out his hand. ‘Siegfried. Siegfried Farnon. What an absolute pleasure to meet you. Your brother has told us absolutely nothing about you.’ He smiled, and you could suddenly see the resemblance between him and Tristan. You chuckled and shook his hand. 

‘Now. I have a surgery to run. Tristan, if you wouldn’t mind showing the lady to her room.’ Siegfried waved absently at his little brother, and disappeared behind the shut curtain of the surgery room. 

The Drover’s Arms was a rather dark little pub right near Skeldale, really a comfortable homie place if not a little old fashioned. 

With a pleasant warmth you Tristan and James settled on a table near the window which let very little light through. Your drinks ordered and spirits high you settled in for a good long evening. It didn’t take long for an easy rhythm in your conversation, James catching you up on everything he had failed to mention back home, while you supplied Tristan with as many embarrassing stories of your dear brother as possible. You ran short fairly quickly, but it was satisfying to see how delighted it made him; and how embarrassed it made James. 

The car ride to the Alderson’s didn’t help to settle your headache, getting jostled around in the back seat of that old car was not the most pleasant after one too many bears, but the mood was light and James promised that there was no better way to see the sights than going on call with him. Tristan had accompanied you which pleased you. He was so much easier going than you were used to. A fondness was quickly growing between the two of you. 

‘Helen?’ James called when you arrived. 

Tristan was grabbing his own bag of instruments when he bellowed ‘Ms. Alderson!’ 

This seemed to work because a few moments later a woman appeared in quick fashion. 

‘Rowdy bunch you are. Keep it down won’t you?’ She beamed. 

You didn’t miss the blush that painted James’ cheek.

‘Who’s this?’ Helen held her hand out to you. 

‘Y/N Herriott.’ 

‘No wonder, you’re his sister. Think he mentioned you once or twice.’

You turned your brow towards your brother whose blush deepened. 

‘You’ve got a foal right?’ Tristan piped in. 

Helen nodded. ‘Right this way. Think he got into something he shouldn’t.’ 

James hopped to catch up to Helen, while Tristan and yourself fell into step behind them, exchanging a look as you silently put your heads together to make a plan. 

There was certainly nothing subtle about James’ fondness towards Helen, the way he stood nearer, the little glances he’d shoot as soon as she looked away. They stood in the middle of the barn looking over the foal, you and Tristan stood against a stack of hay. Far enough to whisper without being detected. 

‘Not very subtle is he?’ Tristan leaned in. 

‘Never has been.’ You chuckle. ‘Are you planning something?’ 

Tristan shrugged. ‘Maybe if I had a bit of backup I could be convinced.’ 

Turning up your nose you took a few dramatic moments to play at weighing your options. You nodded, offering a hand for him to shake. ‘Partners?’ 

It wouldn’t be until the next day when James Tristan and yourself came to a stop in Darrowby square. You had taken a day to visit the horse track. James had said that racing had grown on him since he had met Siegfried, though the horse enthusiast himself could not join you. 

Tristan had stepped out of the passenger seat, stretched, then immediately went to grab you by the arm; pointing excitedly across the street to a flash of fine brown hair and a green coat. 

‘Helen!’ He hissed excitedly, and took off with you in tow, jogging towards his target. 

She was talking with a pair of older ladies when you caught up with her. 

‘Helen! How are you? What’s this?’ He shook her hand. 

You nudged him, pointing up to the banner above the door reading 

“Darrowby Music Society.” 

‘Just what we were looking for I’d say. Huh Tris?’ You piped up. 

Tristan gasped proudly at you, giving a playful wink of encouragement, and that was when James appeared, looking a little frazzled and rather confused. 

‘Tristan what the hell?’ He came to a stop, and Tristan pulled him up, patting his back companionably. 

‘Excellent for you to join us old boy. We were just talking about finding some good music weren’t we?’ 

At this point Helen was rather bemused but seemed entertained enough by the scene unfolding before her. Her companions had long since gone inside and the scraping of instruments had begun to seep into the street. 

‘Right well we’ll miss it if we don’t go in so-’ Helen gestured at the door. 

‘Of course, of course. Let’s,’ Tristan and yourself pushed James through the door, and nearly into poor Helen Alderson. 

As quickly and quietly you took your seats, Helen and James at the front, while you and Tristan slinked off towards the back, to find a seat with a good view of the couple. 

Tristan leaned towards you as the band leader attempted to speak loudly enough for the whole room, which was admittedly on the small side. 

‘He can’t mess this up can he?’ Tristan whispered. 

‘We’ll see. He doesn’t much like to do things for himself,’ you shrugged.

The concert was over before you new it, and James had made little advancement in his relationship with Helen, offering only a ‘farewell’ and ‘jolly good day’ with his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

‘That turned out. . . less than ideal.’ Tristan sighed. 

You shrugged, almost smiling, ‘progress is progress I’d suppose. Got more comfortable after that second movement. Got a decent laugh too, wouldn’t you think?’ 

Scheming your brothers love life turned out more difficult than you had suspected. You and Tristan put your heads together often enough, but James’ almost self destructive devotion to his vocation made your planning very difficult. Still you and Tristan shuffled along, scheming as you might, with no thoughts of home. 

It must have been two weeks into your stay, but admittedly you had been too distracted to notice, when the Daffodil ball was announced. With a great impact Mrs. Bromptom had thrust herself upon Skeldale and thrown Siegfried into something of a mood. Though this was fascinating to watch, Tristan and yourself had been overjoyed with the opportunity for your brother to just take one very easy chance and ask Helen to join him. 

You had been certain he’d take the bait, and you had been proven correct, but how correct you weren’t sure. 

There was a general buzz about the place as James rushed his last few patients, you were sitting with Helen, rather companionably. Beginning to approve of his choice better with every moment. 

‘Nearly done,’ He had announced from the operating room as he ushered a dog inside. 

‘Where’s Tristan then?’ Helen asked as Mrs. Hall handed her a cup of tea. 

You opened your mouth to say but Mrs. Hall had beat you to it,

‘He’s found himself a date. Girl with a pig.’ Mrs. Hall chuckled, nestling herself comfortably on the couch next to you. 

‘Siegfried’s going with Ms. Brompton then?’ She asked 

‘Yes, confirmed it this morning.’ You answered.

Mrs. Hall hummed vaguely and sipped her tea. 

Maybe it was half an hour again before you actually departed, feeling giddy with the opportunity you had thrust upon your brother, maybe it would actually work this time. 

The dance hall was lively, and as crowded as it could be. The band played a peppy tune and smelled of cigarettes and perfume. It was almost suffocating, but as the door propped open and the air began to clear you could properly enjoy yourself. 

You were standing by the concessions table when Tristan practically ran into you, grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards the dance floor. 

‘There, there d’you see?’ he half whispered half yelled. 

You almost couldn’t see through the sea of bodies, only a flash of your brother's best sports coat, and Helen’s Scarlet dress. She looked like she knew what she was doing, but James tripped as he sped by. 

Tristan was patting your arm in excitement practically jumping up and down.

‘I’m so proud I could kiss you!’ he yipped. 

Your eyes went wide and he beamed. You nodded in permission and he pressed his warm lips to your cheek, excitedly exclaiming.

‘I think I’ve finally got something right for a change.’ 

You smiled back, grabbing his arm and pulling him onto the floor, where you took a celebratory dance.

The night had put you in a dream state, nothing felt quite real, in a deliriously pleasant sort of way. Tristan and yourself seemed to fill into your “roles” as simply and unexplained as possible. You spent all your time together, but that ticking clock of your time here started to ring loud. 

The night was in equal measure very successful and a dismal failure for your brother; but it was only part way through the day when he seemed jontier, nearly giddy. 

‘Now old boy, what’s gotten into you?’ Tristan asked, as he settled himself atop James’ desk. The surgery had just been evacuated, and James was cleaning up, humming. 

‘I think, and I don't know. But I THINK Helen just kissed me.’ 

Tristan jumped up, grabbing his friends shoulders. ‘Really? You’re absolutely positively sure that Helen Alderson kissed you?’ 

‘Yes.’ James chuckled. 

A tap at the door interrupted them, when you poked your head inside, ‘Tris, Siegfried’s been-’

Tristan pulled you inside, 

‘Well go on then tell her.’ He positioned you across the table from James.

‘Helen-’

‘Kissed him!’ Tristan yipped, startling you. ‘Sorry sorry, it just took him SO long,’ 

‘Ms. Herriott,’ Siegfried piped up from the hall. 

You swung open the door taking the letter he held out to you. 

It was a note from your parents. A month in Darrowby hadn't been your plan, necessarily, but there wasn’t ever an actual plan. It started with the usual pleasantries and how they missed you and hoped you were doing well, then with deft complaints about your time away.

You felt a sinking feeling. You dropped your hands to your sides huffing in anger. 

‘How about some celebratory lunch?’ Tristan pulled James along, arms interlocked. 

The train station was nearly crowded, you could hear Siegfried loudly talking from the telephone booth, and all your baggage was sitting next to you under the bench. Tristan was pacing around his hands in his pockets.

You had begun to chew the inside of your cheek. It had been three wonderful days. Those days had made you realize you didn’t want to leave. Not now, or ever. You had been sucked in.

The train whistle prompted you to stand, and Tristan was at your side, helping you with your bags. 

‘Are you alright?’ Tristan tilted his head..

‘What’s that? Yes, I suppose.’ You shrugged.

Tristan furrowed his brow. ‘You don’t look it.’

You sighed, and rubbed your temple. ‘I just. . . don’t want to go back. I know I should, and my parents are expecting me, but I can’t see the point in it. I think I  can finally breath here.’ You sighed.

Tristan’s jaw was loose, his head listing ever so slightly to the side, like he’d lost the ability to understand you. 

‘Dear god, we’ve got room. Close your bloody mouth Tristan, you look like a dead fish.’ 

You turned with surprise to Siegfried. ‘What’s that?’ 

‘We’ve got plenty of room at Skeldale, stay with us.’ Siegfried shrugged like it was the simplest thing.

‘Oh yes, please do.’ Mrs. Hall concurred 

‘But- my train,’ you gestured. 

‘For heaven sake, go home, get your things and we’ll have a feast when you get back!’ said Mrs. Hall. 

Tristan had picked up your bags, excitedly as the train whistle began to blow again. 

‘Come on then.’ He urged you. He looked as giddy as a child, like he was already anticipating your return. 

James opened the cabin door and your things were placed inside, Tristan urged you in, and the door shut. You turned around, urgently opening the compartment window, you leaned out. 

Tristan’s eyes met yours and you smiled, leaning out and kissing him as the last whistle blew. You were practically pulled away as the train began to move, and you waved until you could no longer seem then. 

There was a cool summer smell of grass, and cows. You sat down with a sigh, closing the window, and picked up your bag. Shuffling around in it for a moment before pulling out a pad of paper and pen, when you settled comfortably and started a list of things to pack.

[kate-bishops-waifu]

Reminder that requests are open for both All Creatures and Small! Please requests I have no motivation my brain is zapped and I wanna write for you.

Alright screw it, there is a disturbing lack of x reader content for Downton Abbey and All Creatures Great and Small (2020) so I guess it's my job to do it.

I'm now opening requests for Downton and All Creatures fic.

NSFW requests welcome.

18+ ONLY. This is an 18+ account so if you want a fic you need to be 18+!

[kate-bishops-waifu]

Could you please do a Tristan x reader?

Perhaps where the reader ran away from home and Darrowby took them in as a stray. They might act as a secretary for the practice and work under Mrs. Hall. And someone has just pointed out Tristan that he's in love with them and is now awkward and flustered.

Or something entirely different

a.n. So sorry this took so long! I've been busy and quite frankly unmotivated. But I hope you like it. Have a lovely day, and thanks for the request nonny.

Tristan x gn!Reader

'Unethical'

No I have not seen the '78 All Creatures.

Warnings: Like one swear? Tristan being an anxious boy. Siegfried.

Fluff. Friends to lovers. The slightest hint of angst.

word count: 2241

He/They pronouns for Tristan

Six months in Skeldale house had taught you how a somewhat more sane world operated. You had space to move about without bumping into machinery, you weren’t suffocating in what amounted to a tenement and you had a bed all to yourself. 

Tristan had compared your room to a broom closet, but you didn’t mind. No rats crawled over you, no bed bugs bit at you.

It was a palace to you. 

The tall ceilings, the stone walkway, the numerous alcoves you could just fit a small table

with a plant or picture in. You’d never been more comfortable in your whole life. But

you couldn’t entirely relax, could you? 

No.

 The room sometimes suffocated you, the jobs were sometimes too clean and safe. It felt foreign. All you had to worry about was how dinner would be ready in time and if the

Bookkeeping was safe. And it was quiet. Not too quiet, especially on days the surgery was open, chickens, dogs, and all sorts came in on those days and you felt you could breathe a little easier. But every other day was quiet. Jess, the kindest most obedient pup you had met was so quiet that she merely tilted her head at the door when someone came in. She didn’t protest when you put her in the back, she just quietly went along like it was routine. And it was. 

You were in the grand kitchen with the fine wood table and window into that magnificently unkempt garden. Tristan was sitting on the counter, something they only ever did in your company. Siegfried or Mrs. Hall would let them have a piece of their mind. Say something about it being unsanitary, while Jame’s just sort of chuckled and went on with his day. 

You didn’t mind though. In fact you like Tristan’s company most. He had this relaxing attitude about life, and infectious joy you admired. You felt like a real person around him, unlike the rest of the village who seemed to find you a peculiarity. Something interesting to whisper about. 

You’d been long in thought. Tristan was going on about cricket, some fantastic feat was played the last time it was broadcast that he was still buzzing about. You wanted to pay attention, but you had been overtaken by that feeling again. Like you were living a dream about to wake up to a loud stuffy room with your parents arguing in the next as the never ending sound of machinery rumbled the weak walls. 

‘Y/N? Y/N are you alright? I think I lost you.’ Tristan was practically waving his hand in front of your face, leaning over to try and get your attention. 

‘What? Oh. Sorry, guess I zoned out. What were you saying?’ 

Tristan tilted his head at you and squinted like he was trying to read your thoughts. Which he was, but he wasn’t very successful. 

‘Alright, spill it. I’m not about to judge you, you know. Six months here; you’re practically part of the furniture.’ 

You shake your head, placing a plate on the drying rack and wiping your hands. ‘It’s going to sound strange. So don’t judge me.’ 

Tristan straightened up, to show you he was taking it seriously, grabbing to top of the side of the counter, he nodded. 

You rubbed your forehead with the heel of your palm, and chuckled at yourself. ‘It’s. . . Well it’s too quiet. Here. In the house. I constantly feel like something has gone wrong. You know the other week, that dog who wouldn’t stop howling?’ 

Tristan shuddered at the memory. 

‘That was, for whatever reason, the most relaxed I’ve been here. Like I’m looking forward to a busy surgery so things can be a bit more hectic.’ 

Tristan shook his head seriously. ‘You want me to start banging pots and pans every half hour?’ 

You breathed out a chuckle and tossed the towel at him. ‘I’m serious! It puts me on edge.’ 

Tristan dropped down from the counter, still chuckling at himself. ‘You want the radio?’ he asked, joyfully kissing the side of your head as he hopped over to the wood box on the other side of the dining table. 

‘That’s not what I meant, and you know it. But yes. If you wouldn’t mind.’ 

The radio sputtered on as you leaned back against the counter. You didn’t recognize it, but Tristan began to hum along. 

‘What is this?’ You asked. 

Tristan shrugged. ‘Don’t know the name. Heard it before. Goodman I think the chap’s name is?’ He ventured. 

‘Tristan!’ Came a recognisable belt from the back entrance. Siegfried charged in, a muddy white coat in his hands. ‘What on earth are you doing? I thought I told you do mix the-’ 

‘I know, I know. I already did it.’ Tristan interrupted.

‘Well did you organize them correctly? Last time I couldn't find the calcium injections.’ 

‘He was just keeping me company. He finished his duties.’ You said. ‘I made sure of it.’

Siegfried eyed the pair of you, eyes flicking back and forth. ‘Alright. Good.’ There came a loud barking from the other side of the house, and Siegfried squared his shoulders. 

‘Surgeries open. Go on back to work.’ He directed,

Tristan hopped to it, turning back with a grin as he mouthed, ‘like that?’ motioning to the door where the infernal racket came from as people flowed in. 

You laughed, nodding in agreement as Tristan gave a self satisfied smile. 

Siegfried was still gazing between you with hooded eyes, like he was trying to decide something. 

‘Tea Mr. Farnon?’ 

‘I think so Y/N.’ He took a seat at the table, sighing comfortably as you put the kettle on. 

Siegfried Farnon was, to say the least: A lot. Six months as his employee and you'd seen his highs and lows and determined that he was overall a good man with well meaning. But he wasn’t always a kind man. Especially to Tristan who you always wanted to speak out in defense of. 

‘Where’s James?’ Mrs. Hall asked as she came through the same back door. 

Siegfried checked his watch, a mouth full of toast. ‘Should be at the Hanson’s.’ He guessed. 

Mrs.Hall nodded and hung up her coat. Dropping a bag of groceries on the counter. You poured the tea, watching as she went into the corridor. Not a minute passed before she was hurrying back, Tristan on her tail. 

‘Siegfried, I’m gonna need your help.’ Tristan announced from the doorway. 

Mr. Farnon looked at the tea in his hand dejectedly and stood up following his contemporary.

The air in the sterile operation room was mild. It wasn’t a particularly scary procedure, you just couldn’t do it alone. 

You made quick work of cleaning up, having a piece of toast for yourself, before going ahead to see what was happening. 

Tristan was examining the area of interest, taking a pair of scissors to the spot. His eyes kept darting up to the window through the makeshift waiting room. You were explaining something to one of the waiting customers who looked especially impatient. 

‘What’s that? Why are you so distracted?’ Siegfried asked, watching his little brother bemusedly. 

Tristan’s eyes darted back to the task at hand.

‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’ He lied. 

Siegfried sniffed at that. ‘You’ve been staring at Y/N like that for the past two weeks. You’re gonna bore a hole in the back of their head if you’re not careful.’ 

Tristan blushed, itching his forehead as an excuse to hide his face. ‘What do you mean? I haven’t.’ He shot back. 

Siegfried raised an eyebrow. ‘That was a bit quick off the mark.’ He observed. 

Tristan was blushing furiously. He hadn't even noticed he was doing it. It was annoying. A distraction, and shit. If he didn’t know what to think about this. It started to hit him like a wave. The only thing that had been on his mind for the past two months had been you or the patient. Often you took priority, as little as he’d like to admit it. 

‘Wait! Y/N. Wait up!’ Tristan called as he slung his sports coat over his shoulders and jogged to catch up with you. 

‘Damnit Siegfried.’ He muttered under his breath as they proceeded with the surgery. 

It was a cool spring day. The ground still wet from rain as you splashed against the cobble. 

‘I thought you weren’t coming?’ You said as he fell instep beside you. 

‘House was too quiet.’ He shrugged, which made you laugh. 

‘Now who’s the weirdo!’ You beamed in satisfaction. 

Tristan rolled his eyes and you made your way to the cafe. 

You sighed as you stepped in. It was so warm and smelled of pastries and good food. You took a table for two and settled in. ordering your food and drink fairly promptly. Most people were out working after the storm so it was considerably quiet. Tristan cleared his throat and took a sip of his tea. 

‘It’s funny. I was just thinking, Yknow. I know you pretty well, but I don’t know anything about where you came from. No offense but you seemed pretty desperate when you got here?’ 

You couldn’t help blushing, feeling a bit embarrassed. 

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that in a bad way! I just wanted to know a bit more about you.’ He was the embarrassed one now. 

‘No. It’s alright. I uh, I came from a working family. We made fake flowers for crassages and dresses and stuff. Lots of industrial presses and big machinery. Constant hammering. Not much money in it. We had a little place made of Plywood out the back.’ You admitted.  

Tristan hummed in acknowledgement, taking a bite of his food, and sniffing when they couldn’t think of how to respond. 

‘Sorry that was a bit much wasn’t it? I shouldn’ have-’

‘No! No. Not at all. I just don’t know what’s right to say? I don’t think sympathy is the right way to go, and I want you to know that I understand and don’t pity you. I think it’s rather remarkable you left it all behind. Going up in the world as you are.’ Tristan hastened a speech, falling into a warm, slightly apologetic smile. 

You laughed. Properly laughed, full belly chuckle that Tristan wasn’t sure he had heard before. The sound took him by surprise and he felt his chest swell with fondness as you started to calm down. Wiping your tears away with your napkin. 

‘Oh don’t worry about it! I get very well confused sometimes too. But you should have seen your face!’ You chorkled, tossing your napkin on the table.

‘It’s any wonder Siegfried would suggest I have feelings for you; when you laugh at me when I try to have a serious conversation.’  The remark was an utterance. They were looking at their food. But Tristan spoke loud enough for you to hear and that made your heart sink. 

‘What’s that?’ you asked.

Tristan looked up at you slightly embarrassed. 

‘It’s nothing. Just something my brother said. You know. He’s always saying things about me.’ 

‘Is it true?’ Your voice had gone small 

‘What?’ 

‘Is it true what he said?’ 

Tristan started to wring his hands nervously. Internally hating himself for saying anything.

‘Well. I don’t know. I suppose there’s truth in it. Or else he wouldn’t say it would he? Or maybe he would, he’s been rather keen on stretching the truth lately how am I to know?’ 

‘It’s not for him to know. I think only you can say wether or no it’s true.’ You had to steady your voice. You were not expecting this conversation to take this turn and it was freaking you out. 

Tristan took a moment to think, playing idly with his food. ‘I suppose it is, isn't it?’ he seemed to be talking more to himself than to you. ‘That really mucks things up doesn’t it.’

‘Why? Why does it mess anything up?’ You pondered. 

Tristan looked up, but he wouldn’t look you in the face. His eyes darted about. ‘Because you’re out employee right? Well, Siegfried anyways. It doesn’t feel entirely ethical to put you in such a position. If something were to go wrong then, well, you probably wouldn’t want to stay would you, and you’d be out on the streets again.’

You nodded in understanding, then shook your head at the idea of never doing anything about it; and how hollow it made you feel. 

‘I can find other jobs. I’ve built up enough savings now. It could always go right.’ You said. 

Tristan looked at you with longing, dammit why did he have to have such a good ‘kicked puppy’ face? 

‘But-’ 

‘Stop being ridiculous Tristan. I can handle myself well enough. I figure it’s easier to just get to know each other instead of sitting on our hands and hurting ourselves.’ You blurted out. 

Tristan looked sympathetically at you. But you weren’t sure if the sympathy was for you or themself. But then you felt their hand brush against your own. The table was small so it was no reach. 

‘Really? Are you sure, because I really don’t want to put you in a position-’ 

You nodded your head vigorously and took hold of his hand, the warmth and softness nearly melting you. 

‘I like you a lot more than what’s usually considered ethical.’ Tristan beamed.

[kate-bishops-waifu]

It's done!

You can read it here!

FINALLY got a decent start at this Tristan fic. I've been away so I haven't had time to write it, and I tried once or twice an it didn't suit. I think I found the right balance, and I'm rather excited with it. Hopefully done by the end of the week of near Monday next?

[kate-bishops-waifu]

Alright screw it, there is a disturbing lack of x reader content for Downton Abbey and All Creatures Great and Small (2020) so I guess it's my job to do it.

I'm now opening requests for Downton and All Creatures fic.

NSFW requests welcome.

18+ ONLY. This is an 18+ account so if you want a fic you need to be 18+!

[kate-bishops-waifu]

FINALLY got a decent start at this Tristan fic. I've been away so I haven't had time to write it, and I tried once or twice an it didn't suit. I think I found the right balance, and I'm rather excited with it. Hopefully done by the end of the week of near Monday next?