#richard imagine

[dccomicsimagines]

The Potty Mouth - Dick Grayson x Reader

Warning - Swear words and adult themes related to said swearing are ahead!

Requested by Anon - dick grayson!robin x reader where reader is very loud and gets excited easily, also has a bad potty mouth and robin finds it hilarious whenever reader is roasting somebody or upsetting kaldur with their colorful language and jokes

***

Dick moaned, rubbing his head as he sat up. The ground was cold and hard beneath him. The truck they had been driving was several feet away, rolled on it’s side. Deep tire tracks embedded the ditch they crashed in. 

“Is everyone okay?” Dick called out. He slowly got to his feet. Pain flared throughout his whole body, but no broken bones. Just bruises. 

“I’m fine,” Artemis said as she crawled out the window of the truck. “Might have a bit of whiplash.” She rubbed her neck.

Dick nodded, moving toward the truck. “KF? (Y/N)?” He saw a shoe trapped under the truck. His heart flew into his throat before he saw it wasn’t attached to a body. He sighed in relief. “Any sign of the thugs we were following?”

Artemis looked around, but the road was empty. “Gone.” She sighed, closing her eyes and sank to the ground. 

“Try to stay whelmed. I’ll take a look for them,” Dick said, noting how much she was holding her head. She probably had a concussion too. This mission was going south fast.

It was supposed to be a simple surveillance mission. You, Dick, Artemis, and Wally were tailing the suspected Kobra agents after they picked up an unknown substance from a black market buyer. However, another vehicle appeared and forced them off the road. 

“That’s the last time we let Artemis drive,” Wally groaned from somewhere in the woods beside the road. Dick followed the groan to find Wally laying on the ground holding his arm. “I think I broke my arm.”

“Steady, Kid Mouth.” Dick knelt down to check his arm. “It’s just dislocated.”  Wally coughed. Dick helped him to his feet. “Have you seen (Y/N)?”

“Well, if they aren’t dead, I’m sure we’ll hear them soon enough.” Wally stumbled toward Artemis and sat down beside her. The two started arguing. Dick rolled his eyes. 

Dick went deeper into the woods. He mentally mapped out the crash, trying to work out how far you could have been thrown. You were leaning out the window when the truck hit the gravel. 

“Son of a bitch!” Your voice echoed from behind Dick. Dick spun, running back down the road.

“I told you!” Wally said, snorting. Artemis slapped the back of his head. Wally yelped.

“(Y/N)?!” Dick stopped when he found you lying against a tree. Your leg bent at an odd angle. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I swear to god, if you move me, I’ll skin you alive and feed you to fucking man-eating sharks.”

Dick smiled, mostly in relief. “The sharks would be fucking and eating at the same time?” He dropped to his knees beside you, gently inspecting your leg. 

“Watch it. It hurts like a motherfucker ran it over with his fucking semi.” You hissed. Wally and Artemis slowly walked over to join you and Dick. 

“That’s because it’s broken.” Dick ran a hand through his hair. “This mission was a disaster, heavy on the dis.”

“Batman and Black Canary will put us through another fifty hours of surveillance training.” Wally sat down beside you. 

Artemis collapsed on your other side. “Actually, only you should have to do that Bay-Watch. You’re the one who grabbed the wheel and caused us to crash.”

Dick rolled his eyes as he sent out a distress signal. 

“Will you two bitches just shut up?!” You exploded, throwing your hands in the air. Both Wally and Artemis fell silent. Dick ducked his head to hide his smile. “One, it was neither of your faults or both. I don’t give a fuck.” You held up one finger. “Two, we were in the shit the moment they made us.” Another finger went up. “Three, we didn’t fail the mission.”

“What?” Dick blinked as he was checking his belt for first aid supplies. “What do you mean?” 

You smirked before shifting to get something from your pocket. “Shit.” Blood drained out of your face when you moved your leg. Artemis helped you pull your phone from your pocket. You tapped the now partly shattered screen before holding up a tracer app. “I got a tracker on their car before we crashed and it looks like their hideout is in Bludhaven.”

Dick laughed hard. He was tempted to kiss you, but Artemis hugged you from the side before he could even get close enough. “I should have known you did something when you went half out the window.” 

Wally sighed. “Great job, (Y/N).” He nudged your side. 

“Someone had to do something while you two make yourselves look like damn fools.” You smiled, meeting Dick’s eye. Dick nodded at you, turning to focus on your leg so you wouldn’t see the blush on his cheeks. 

***

“Wait, so we don’t get to finish what we started,” Dick said, walking over to Batman after he just finished a mission briefing for Kaldur, M’gann, Conner, Zatanna, and Raquel. Artemis and Wally were behind him, equally disgruntledly.

“Yeah, Batman, we were the ones who found out where Kobra is,” Wally said, crossing his arms. Artemis nodded.

The others shared looks, staying out of it. Batman turned to glare at the three. “You are recovering.” Batman straightened himself to his full height. “You are all off until you are cleared medically. I suggest you take this time to rest.” Batman turned to the others. “You have your mission.”

The silence filled the room as Batman left. Once he was out of range, everyone sighed in relief. “Hey, look at it this way, you guys get to celebrate Halloween,” M’gann said, smiling brightly to cheer up the three.  “And you can keep (Y/N) company.”

“Oh joy. We get to hang out with the potty mouth.” Wally threw his hands in the air. Dick had to admit, if he was grounded from missions, at least hanging out with you would be a sweet deal. 

“At least they’re better company than you,” Artemis snapped, punching his arm. Wally winced, rubbing his arm and narrowing his eyes at her. 

Kaldur held up a hand. “Enjoy your time off and recover, my friends.”

“We’ll try not to have too much fun,” Raquel said, nudging Zatanna. Zatanna giggled.

“Besides, we’ll have some peace and quiet for once,” Conner mumbled. M’gann touched his arm, shaking her head. 

Dick put his hands in his pocket. It hurt when the team made their passive aggressive comments about you. At least they were never to your face. He imagined your face falling, heartbroken. That he couldn’t let happen ever.

The others said their goodbyes and left. Wally and Artemis started snapping at each other. Dick shook his head at the two of them and slipped out of the room.

“Hey Robbie, guess what?!” Your voice made Dick smile. He stepped into the living room to find you on the couch. Your casted leg rested on the coffee table next to a big pumpkin shaped bowl filled with Halloween candy and several bottled drinks. 

“What?” Dick hopped over the couch to sit next to you. You were wearing a sweatshirt with a green skeleton on it. He remembered you showing off how it glowed in the dark. 

You grinned and pointed to your laptop. “I got the new horror game you told me about.” Dick leaned over to see the main menu on your screen.

“Wow, I’m whelmed.” Dick laughed, loving the excited sparkle in your eye. “I should put it on the big screen.”

“Could you?” Your eyes widened, bouncing in your seat. “That would be fucking amazing! A hundred times scarier!” Dick took your laptop and knelt down next to the tv to get it set up. You watched him, clapping your hands. “We’re going to feel the aster! Until the first scare anyway!”

“What are you two doing?” Artemis asked, walking in and taking a seat in the armchair. 

Dick chuckled, answering her since your mouth was full of candy. “Celebrating Halloween by playing the scariest game to date.” He heard you clapping excitedly in agreement.

Artemis reached over to take a candy bar as Wally zoomed in. Wally helped himself to a handful of candy and sitting down to Dick. “Are you seriously planning on hanging out with (Y/N) all night?” he mumbled in Dick’s ear with his mouth full.

“Yes.” Dick elbowed his side. “It will be fun.”

Wally snorted, going to sit on the armchair opposite of Artemis. “So what are we playing?” Wally asked with slight disinterest. You laughed and explained the game to him. Your hands moved as you talked. Dick moved back to sit next to you, close enough for his hip to brush against yours. You didn’t notice since you were still describing the game to Wally.

Artemis, however, raised an eyebrow at Dick. A smirk played onto her face. Dick just stared back at her, daring her to say something. “So should we start the game?” Wally asked, taking another handful of candy. 

“Yes please!” You bumped Dick’s side. “You play first, Rob. I trust you to get us killed in the first three minutes.”

Dick scoffed, pressing his hand against his chest. “Hey, I have a danger sense.” You laughed loudly, getting Artemis and Wally to join you. Dick grabbed the controller. His heart skipped a beat when you snuggled a little closer to him as the game started.

***

“Whatever you do, don’t open that door,” Wally said, scooting closer to you and Dick. He fallen out of his chair when Dick opened the wrong door last time. 

“No, you got to open that door. It’s got to be the way out,” Artemis said from her place on the couch beside Dick. Dick bit his lip, looking at you as you studied the screen. “It’s a different color from the others.”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your bottom lip. “If we die now, we’ll lose all our progress.” You clenched your hands around the controller. The lights were dimmed, candy bowl full of wrappers and empty drink bottles. 

Dick laid his hand on your wrist. “Stay whelmed. We got this. This is the right door. Art’s right, the color is different.” He moved his hand when you met his eye. He hoped it was dark enough to hide his blush.

“It could just be different because of the graphics. Don’t do it,” Wally argued, covering his face with his hands. 

“We can’t just stay in this hallway forever, open the door.” Artemis nudged Wally with her foot. “If we die, at least we tried to make progress.”

You glanced at all three. Dick could feel how fast your heart was racing from just having his body pressed against yours. Artemis was leaning in quite a bit. “Your choice, (Y/N).” 

“Oh fuck this.” You opened the door. It was a normal bedroom. All four of you sighed in relief. Suddenly in the game, you were spun around and a terrifying ghost face filled the screen. All four of you screamed as the screen went black. 

You wrapped your arms around Dick, squeezing all the air out of him. Dick choked. “I told you,” Wally panted, hand against his chest. 

“Shut up.” Artemis took a deep breath before laughing. 

“Oops, sorry,” you said, pulling away from Dick. He noted you didn’t meet his eye. “I squeezed the shit out of you.”

Dick just chuckled. “I’m fine. That got all of us.” He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Who’s next?”

Wally held up a hand for the controller. You were about to hand it to him when a metallic clang came from the kitchen. “What was that?” Artemis hissed, glancing toward the dark kitchen. The four of you were the only ones in the cave. Red Tornado was on Watchtower duty. 

Your hand found Dick’s and held it in a death grip. Dick smiled at you. He had to admit his heart was racing too. “It was nothing?” 

Suddenly, a hand landed on Dick’s shoulder. Dick’s soul left his body as a somewhat high pitch scream slipped out of his mouth. You screamed with him. Wally and Artemis jumped to their feet, shouting as well. 

“Computer, lights on.” Batman’s voice barely made it over everyone’s cries. The lights brightened to reveal the Dark Knight himself. Dick stared at him, stopping his scream only when he caught the faint hint of a smirk on Batman’s lips. Bruce thought this was funny. Dick frowned.

“Son of a bitch, Batman!” You glared back at him, swatting his hand away from Dick’s shoulder. “What the fuck? Can’t you announce your presence like a normal person?”

“Language, (Y/N).” Batman frowned. “I heard the screams and became concerned.”

Wally sighed, running a hand over his face. “Geez, Batman. Not cool.”

“Very not cool.” Artemis blushed when she realized she grabbed Wally’s arm. She quickly let go and looked away. 

“Perhaps it’s time for all of you to go to bed,” Batman said, crossing his arms. “It’s almost midnight.” 

“On a Saturday when it’s Halloween?” You grabbed your crutches and stood up to face Batman. “Seriously? It’s bad enough you took all four of us off missions for a week or more, but now you want us to go to bed because we were having fun?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Maybe you should go to bed if you can’t handle our screaming or go be Mr. Dark and Scary in Gotham? I mean if you don’t prowl around on Halloween, then what’s the point of dressing like a bat anyway?” 

Dick snorted and pressed his hand over his mouth to stop a laugh. Batman leveled a bat-glare at you, but you just smiled at him almost sweetly. Artemis and Wally couldn’t stop their chuckles, but quickly looked away from you and Batman.

“Keep it down.” Batman shot a warning look to Dick. Dick shrank a little. Batman swept out of the room, letting his cape flick behind him. 

“Coward,” you said once Batman was gone. You sat back down next to Dick. “You good?”

“Feeling the aster...” Dick let more laughter spill out of him. “That was awesome, (Y/N).” 

Artemis sank back down on the couch. “I never understand how you can stand up to him.”

“He’s not that scary when your face to face with him.” You winked at Artemis. “Just imagine him in his underwear and he’s not scary at all.”

Wally groaned in disgust. “Yuck, I didn’t need that image.” Artemis and you laughed. Dick beamed, watching you. He memorized your laugh, the joy in your eyes. Best night ever.

***

The next week, Dick, Wally, and Artemis were cleared for missions. You were still prohibited due to your cast. It hurt to see you so bummed. Dick did his best to make you smile and laugh, but he knew you were itching to get back in the field.

Dick stretched his arms, happy to be in his suit again. Kaldur, Artemis, and Wally were waiting for the mission briefing. Dick joined him. “Where’s the others?” Artemis asked as she checked the tautness of her bow.

“M’gann and Conner have an overnight field trip,” Kaldur said. Wally munched loudly on a bag of chips. Kaldur frowned at him, shaking his head. “Zatanna and Raquel had other commitments.” 

“Oh my god, will you look at this? You’re all dressed up, but have no place to go?” you teased as you hobbled into the room on your crutches. 

“We got a mission, (Y/N).” Artemis put her bow away. 

Your face fell slightly. “Must be exciting.”

Dick perked up, hopping over to you somewhat eagerly. “It’s not that bad.”

“Says you, it’s boring.” You sighed, nudging Dick’s side. Dick’s body electrified at the touch. 

He grinned. “Come on, we’ll play the game again when I get back.”

You smiled at him in return. Wally started making kissing sounds. You looked at him in confusion while Dick’s soul left his body. “Enough, Wallace,” Kaldur ordered, elbowing his side. 

Batman came through the zeta tube all business. You were about to leave, but Dick touched your arm. “Stay, I think we can find you something to do,” Dick whispered. Your eyes widened eagerly.

“Hell yes!” You grinned when everyone turned to look at you. Batman glared. You just shrugged and listened in on the briefing.

***

Dick sat next to you in the bioship, watching you as you barely contained your excitement at being on a mission. Since M’gann wasn’t here, the team had to use comms. So, Dick was able to convince Batman that they’d need someone to manage the comms from the bioship. He touched his lips. You had squealed and kissed him when Batman finally said yes.

“Aren’t you guys lucky? You get to mess with the fucking snake people anyway,” you said, glancing between Wally, Artemis, and Dick. During the team’s last mission to infiltrate Korba’s Bludhaven warehouse, they had uncovered coded intel detailing another operation of theirs. Thus, giving you all a chance at finishing the mission that started it all. 

“Language, (Y/N).” Kaldur blushed, shifting in his seat. 

You shared a devious smile with Dick. “Sorry, I meant the damn fucking snake people.” 

Dick chuckled, glancing at Kaldur to only see him glaring. “(Y/N), watch your language on the comms. We cannot be distracted in the field,” Kaldur ordered sternly. 

“Okay, okay.” You held up your hands. “I’ll close my potty mouth.”

“Finally.” Wally snorted from his seat. You turned to look at him blankly. Wally just looked back at you. 

“If it annoys Wall-man, then please keep your potty mouth open,” Artemis said. You laughed. Your laughter was infectious, soon everyone was chuckling along with you. Dick reached over to touch your hand. You opened your hand, letting his hand rest in yours. Dick’s heart fluttered, so glad you were able to join the mission. 

***

Dick peeked through an air vent at the Kobra warehouse. “It looks like a training faculty,” Dick mumbled into his comm. Wally crawled forward to look through the vent as well. The room below had training mats and equipment scattered around. Two Kobra men were sparring in the center of the room while a group surrounded them, watching. “This might be where they take new enlistees.” 

“We found what looks like a medical bay,” Artemis said. She and Kaldur went one way through the vents while Wally and Dick went the other way. Meanwhile, you stayed in the bioship, mapping out the locations as they found things.

“Now if either of you finds a sex dungeon, then this warehouse will officially be the creepiest place ever,” you said, gagging slightly. The last room Dick and Wally found was some kind of lab that appeared to be growing some kind of snake humanoids. 

Kaldur clicked his tongue in warning. “(Y/N), I think you almost got Kaldur to burst into flames that time,” Artemis chuckled softly.

“One down. Now I just need to get Wally,” you laughed. Wally frowned, unamused. Dick bit his lip to stop himself from snickering.

Dick and Wally kept crawling on. Artemis and Kaldur found another lab, but this time with incubators in it. Dick and Wally only found the living quarters. 

“I don’t like the look of these labs, Rob,” Wally mumbled as they stopped at another vent only to find an empty hallway. 

“At least we can stay whelmed by the fact it doesn’t look like they are using them currently,” Dick said, holding up a hand when footsteps came down the hallway. Wally and Dick fell quiet. The footsteps were heavy and echoing. Dick frowned. Kobra’s soldiers were usually light on their feet.

Suddenly, the footsteps revealed lizard men. They were huge, muscle bound with thick tails. Walking on two legs, they only were wearing loincloths. “We found something,” Wally whispered into the comm.

“Sex dungeon?” you asked with a giggle. 

“Almost.” Dick tapped the side of his mask, sending you an image of the lizard men. You whistled. “Everyone be on alert.”

“We found some too. Ours are eating...raw meat,” Kaldur said. He sounded a little sick. Honestly, Dick couldn’t blame him.

You hummed. “So Kaldur, you didn’t find anything like this at the Bludhaven place, right?”

“No. Nothing like this. It was only a storage facility.” Kaldur’s voice softened. “Artemis and I will go on radio silence for now. We will see if we can find more info in the lab we found.”

Dick and Wally tensed as the lizard men stopped right below them and stood against the walls of the corridor. “You know, those loincloths are very tiny. Must not be much under there,” you said.

Wally choked, eyes wide as if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Dick swallowed back a laugh. He knew Wally had probably been thinking the same thing.

“You got Wally,” Dick whispered.

“Amazing. Two for two,” you laughed. “In all seriousness, be careful. They probably have good hearing.”

Dick nodded. “Will do.” He clicked off the comm as he and Wally got comfortable, waiting to see what the lizard men were going to do.

***

It turned out, much to Dick’s dismay, that the lizard men had very good hearing. Dick held his stomach as he rolled onto his back. He turned his head to see Wally and Artemis unconscious. The lizard men found Kaldur and Artemis first. Dick and Wally moved to help them before getting caught themselves. 

Dick looked around. He remembered being dragged by his foot into another room. The floor felt soft under him. He recognized the ceiling as the training room they found earlier. 

“Do what you will with us, but know the Justice League is on their way,” Kaldur said calmly. Dick turned his head, blinking in surprise. Kaldur was facing down one of the lizard men. The lizard man just flicked his tongue at him before pushing Kaldur to the ground. 

Dick acted like he was going to scratch his ear, but tapped his comm to signal you. 

“What’s up?” You sounded calm, yet slightly bored. 

“SOS,” Dick coughed, rolling out of the way as a lizard man almost stomped on him. 

“I know. Help is on the way once I can figure out how to fly this damn thing. Bioship, be nice to me, huh?” you said through the comm. 

Kaldur grabbed Dick and pulled him out of the way of a charging lizard man. “You noticed Kobra disappeared?” Dick said, checking the room only to see lizard men. 

“Yes.” Kaldur grabbed his water bearers. “(Y/N), call for back up,” Kaldur said into the comm.

“Back up is incoming.” Your voice sounded so confident. Dick felt slightly worried. “Tell the lizards to keep their loincloths on.”

“Oh boy,” Dick said. Dick and Kaldur stood back to back, preparing to fight off the lizards. Artemis stirred a few feet away and went over to pull Wally out of the harm’s way. She tapped his cheeks and tried to bring him around. 

Kaldur and Dick tensed, ready for the first attack before an explosion shook the building. “You may want to take cover,” you warned. Dick and Kaldur shared a look before sprinted over to Artemis and Wally. Both of them dragged them behind a set of barbells as the far wall boomed to reveal the Bioship with cannons out. 

“This is the cops. Drop to your knees and please keep the loincloths on because no one wants to see lizard dick today, thank you.” Your voice boomed throughout the building.

“I didn’t know Bioship had a PA system,” Artemis mumbled in surprise. Kaldur’s face fell into his hands. His ears were bright red.

Dick chuckled. “I bet (Y/N) asked Bioship to make one.” You were so cool. A thrill shivered down Dick’s spine.

The lizards didn’t drop, so you opened fire. All the lizards were down in a few seconds. Stunned, not dead. Dick whistled. He reminded himself never to play Call of Duty with you. You would probably snipe him before he could even breathe. 

“Justice League should be here ‘in a flash’ according to the Flash,” you said through the comms. Dick could hear the laughter in your voice.

Kaldur cleared his throat. “Thank you, (Y/N). Although, watch your language next time.” 

Wally moaned, sitting up with Artemis’ help. “Lizard dicks. I can’t believe they said lizard dicks.”

Artemis snorted before bursting out laughing. Dick joined her, unable to stop himself. He heard you laughing with them through the comm. Even Kaldur smiled and rolled his eyes. Dick knew your loudness and potty mouth weren’t for everyone, but he loved it because it was so you.

[superhero--imagines]

Wear what you want I can fight

A/N: Surprisingly this one won so here you go, just did the boys I thought fit the best. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoy 💖

Dick Grayson

You can feel his gaze on you as you secure your accessories.

“Do I look bad?” You ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

He fidgets.

“N-no, of course not.” It’s true, you could never look bad, not to him — not even when you woke up with drool dripping from the corner of your mouth and smeared across your chin.

“I thought you were going to wear that blue outfit though? The one with all the sparkles.” You flush at the mention. The blue outfit had been your first choice, but—

“It’s kind of…revealing, don’t you think?”

The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Baby, you know you can wear whatever you want right? I can fight”

Jason Todd

Jason gives out a lie wolf whistle when you walk into the room, an eyebrow quirked up as his eyes shamelessly roam over your body.

“Wow, you’re trying to turn everyone on, huh?”

You roll your eyes. You’re wearing a turtleneck sweater and a pair of modest black pants—not anything eye catching, let alone revealing.

You smile when he walks closer, his arms wrapped around your midsection and his lips pressed against your temple.

“Don’t worry babe, dress as slutty as you want—I can fight.”

Duke Thomas

He covers his mouth the second you step out. Shoulders trembling as he purses his lips.

“Hot right?”

He can’t hold it in anymore. The laughter tumbles out of his mouth is barks and howls, he laughs so hard tears fall from the corners of his eyes.

“Where’d you even get a Pokémon onesie?”

“Is it to promiscuous? I mean, I know you can fight babe, but I’m not trying to get in the middle y’know?”

Another wave of laughter.

Damian Wayne

“Damian,” you hiss his name, calling his attention down to you. Your lavender ensemble sways around you. A moment prior you’d been happy with it—that was until you noticed everyone else attending the gala was wearing white and black. “Why didn’t you tell me this ball had a dress code?!”

Damian doesn’t even flinch, plucking two champagne glasses from a waiter nearby.

“You look good in it.” Like that’s all there is to the matter, you look good in this outfit and you like it so what does it matter what the dress code is? “Drink.” He presses the champagne flute into your hand, and since it can’t get any worse, you down it all in one gulp, grabbing the second one to sip from.

“Trust me beloved,” his eyes narrow at the participants that were eyeing you with snickers earlier who immediately flinch away when his gaze flits to them. “No one will dare criticize you—not if they know what’s good for them.”

A/N: As always please leave a like, reblog, or comment if you enjoyed and stay tuned for my next poll to pick what blurb I do!

[libraford]

My dad is going through grandmas old photos that she swore one day she'd organize but never did, and he tells me that hes only keeping 'the important ones.'

"The picture of me n' John n' tim n' michael. And your grandpa and the like. I'm not keeping pictures of cats or the ones of where Grandpa saw a buffalo once."

And listen I am rarely mad at my dad because hes got the best of intentions but...

When I was hlgoing through my other grandmas photos in 2021, I kept EVERY picture of a cat or dog and do you want to know why?

It was 1918, cameras were a luxury to have, film was expensive to develop, and you didnt want to waste film on something pointless and they

STILL

Took pictures of their pets.

"I have a cat. Please let me show you my cat" is a human quality that transcends generations. Before photos, we painted portraits of our companion animals on various surfaces and we will continue to do this til the end of time.

Great great great aunt Ida wanted you to know she had a fluffy little white cat with little black spots and a little black mustache and I think we should hear her out.

[sanguineterrain]

Your writing is so damn good, you execute every request perfectly 😭

Could you maybe write something where Dick's insecure partner wants to break up with him because their self-image is getting worse cause they feel they can't catch up to the Golden Boy reputation, superheroes, billionaires and so on?

hi, thanks for the request! I hope I did it justice :) a brief interlude from jaytodd before we return to our regularly scheduled program lol

dick grayson x gn!reader. low self esteem, an almost breakup, reader feeling insecure, threatened, sad. happy ending! 2.1k words

****

You've been tugging at your outfit for ten minutes. At this rate, you'll have to concede that this is as good as it's going to get.

"My love, you almost ready?"

You sigh and watch your reflection fold its arms.

"Yeah," you say softly. "'M ready."

The door opens. Your heart swoops.

Dick is beautiful, as usual. Your boyfriend can do a lot, including fill a suit. Both your and his outfits were tailor-made because that's one of the perks of being the son of a billionaire.

Over and over, you'd insisted you could wear off-the-rack, and over and over, Dick had said that was silly, that Bruce wouldn't mind.

And it's true that what you're wearing flatters you better than anything from Macy's or Marshall's would've. But you know it won't help tonight. Not in a room full of Gotham's elite.

"Just as I suspected," Dick says, immediately draping his arms over your hips. "You're gonna steal the show tonight."

He's lying.

That voice in your head has gotten louder recently, and you don't know how to turn it off.

You kiss him instead of responding. Dick enthusiastically reciprocates, always delighted when you touch him. You used to think it would be enough.

But ever since you found out that not only are you dating a billionaire philanthropist with a face that makes angels weep, but that said guy is also arguably the most beloved hero in Gotham, maybe second only to the Batman (who's his freaking dad?!), you've begun to have doubts.

You pull back. Dick's tie perfectly sets off his eyes. They're bright as they look at you.

"Everything okay?" he asks, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

"Uh-huh," you say, trying to smile. "Just nervous."

“Hey, it's alright. I'll be by your side all night. I'll save you from any and all small talk, promise." He winks. "And we can duck out early, get hot chocolate from that place you like. They won't care."

Dick's always doing that. Always catering to you. You're just some nobody who happened to stumble into the best relationship you’ve ever had with a golden god.

Dick never reminds you of that. That he could do better. He doesn't have to—you know it all on your own.

You swallow. “Okay. If you're sure. I... I would like to leave early, Gray."

“‘Course, baby,” Dick says, attaching his cuff links. "Anything you want."

You turn back to the mirror, wondering if you can reinvent your personality before you go and remind everyone what a mistake Dick Grayson has made in choosing you. 

****

The party is tasteful, though a little stuffy. You're only here because Dick is going to give a speech, and he asked you to come support him. And while you know it's better for him to go without you so you won't dull his shine, it seems Dick hasn't quite figured that out.  

You hold onto Dick’s arm as he makes his usual rounds. Dick doesn't enjoy these events, you know that, but he's fluid in his interactions. There is no doubt he’s Bruce Wayne’s prodigy. With his suit, his hair, his easy posture, Dick is almost unrecognizable from when you woke up with him this morning. 

He's in his element. All you can do is peer in and watch. 

Dick leans in and slips a hand around your waist after the fourth interaction with a donor. A donor who, again, acted like Dick may as well have been dragging around a coat rack with how intently they ignored you. Not that you give a shit about what the one percent have to say about you, except sometimes they say a lot of mean things, things you're pretty sure they don't let Dick overhear, and sometimes you start wondering if Dick is the only person who can't see truth in what they say, and sometimes—

“Hey.” Dick leans in to talk in your ear. He's warm and solid. You wish that was a comfort. “You okay?”

You're exhausted. 

“Uh-hmm.”

He is going to wake up one of these days and realize he can have it so much better. 

Dick moves like he's about to say more, pull you closer and permeate your senses with his gold.

“Dickie!” 

Sweet, tinkling laughter echoes across the room. The crowd parts for this new woman, an obvious socialite, dressed to the nines and gorgeous. 

Her dress matches Dick's tie. You feel sick.

When she reaches you two, she wastes no time grabbing Dick and kissing his cheek. He extricates himself from her, like he's done a million times before with everyone else who thinks they're entitled to a piece of Dick Grayson. He shoots you an apologetic look. You look away.

“My God, it’s been what, ten years?” she says. Then she sees you. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Caroline Banesbury, Duchess of Middlesworth. I heard the Dickie Grayson was going to be here, and I had to come.”

“Been a while,” Dick says, smiling blandly. “How are you, Caroline?”

“Spectacular! Father just bought another castle. You should come and see it sometime.” She plucks a flute of champagne off of a passing tray and smiles behind the rim of the glass. 

“Dick and I go way back,” she says, gaze roving over him. “I hear you're transforming Blüdhaven. Taking a page out of Bruce's book, hm? You always had a big heart, Dickie.” 

She grabs his arm and links it with hers. You sigh and take a sip of your own drink. You half-wish Poison Ivy would come in and gas the room or something.

Dick clears his throat and maneuvers out of her grip once more, letting go of her with a light pat. He returns to you, snugly holding your shoulders.

"This is my partner," he says about you.

Caroline hums, looking over you. "I see. Pleasure."

You nod. She turns back to Dick.

“If I can be of any help to your project, you let me know,” she adds, glancing down at where her empty arm now hangs at her side. “Anything.” 

“That's generous of you, Carrie.” 

Dick and I go way back.

Oh. Right. You're stupid. They've dated. 

“We should have dinner,” she continues. “Catch up. I'm dying to know what Gotham's darling has been up to.”

“I feel sick,” you announce. 

Dick and Caroline turn to you. Caroline looks perplexed, like you've just said you like to chew concrete. 

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” she says, hardly sparing you a glance. "Perhaps you ought to lie down."

You feel Dick's eyes on you. If you don't leave soon, he'll know you're lying. Possibly the worst part about dating Batman's protégé.

Suddenly, leaving this hall is the most important thing you've ever had to do. You feel like you'll die if you don't.

Your feet start moving.

"Baby—"

Anyway, this is Caroline's chance. She can swoop in with her trust fund and while you think Dick can do way better than her—he can always do better—anyone is better than you. For Dick Grayson, who has been a master acrobat since he was a child, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, indubitably intelligent, capable, beautiful, the best goddamn guy you'll ever know—

You've lost your way. You're out of the gala, away from duchesses and doom. And you meant to get your coat but this hall that Bruce rented is enormous. You've no idea where you are. But you're alone.

Bruce must've known too, how unfit you are for his son. And why wouldn't he tell Dick? Unless Dick ignored him, because Dick, for all his smarts, is stupidly in love with you, thinks you're where he should put his heart, is certain you won't fumble and drop it.

Warm, callused fingers catch your wrist and you remember, suddenly, Dick telling you once, after you'd nearly stumbled into the street, that he'd never let you fall.

You meet his eyes. Why does he look at you like that? Who gave him the right to look at you like-like you—as if you could ever deserve—

"Hey," he says, squeezes your hand. "Hey, hey. What's going on?"

Dick Grayson is not a trusting man but he trusts you and good God, you're about to break him.

"I need to break up with you," you blurt.

"What?" he breathes. "What—why would you say that?"

You wish he'd give you the slip he gave everyone in that room, gently separate your arm from his hand. You never learned how to evade Dick's touch.

"Because it's true. Dick, please understand—"

"No, I'm trying to understand. Because yesterday—no, tonight, you were fine—"

"No, Dick, I wasn't fine! I haven't been fine in months!"

You wrench your arm away. He looks like you slapped him.

"You know anybody I talk to in there means nothing, right? You know that, honey." He's pleading.

You curl your fist into your eye. "It's more than that, Gray."

"Then tell me what the problem is," he says desperately. "Tell me and we'll fix it. I promise we can fix it."

"You can't!" you say, voice cracking. "You can't fix me."

Dick shakes his head. "I don't—"

"Why can't you let me break up with you with a little bit of dignity?" you ask. "Do you have to be better at this too?"

"I don't want to break up," he says, tugging at a handful of his hair. "This doesn't make sense. We're happy. You're happy, aren't you? Don't I make you happy?"

"Of course," you choke out. "Of course you make me happy. But you don't see I'm bad for you. You're wonderful and perfect and golden, Dick. And I'm a stain. I need to be scrubbed away."

"Wh—that's not true!"

"Everywhere we go, people see me with you and are immediately confused. I'm not a superhero, I'm not royalty, I'm not a socialite, and yet somehow I've managed to snag Gotham's darling. This is a mistake. I'm trying to do you a favor and wake you up!"

Dick's face is hard with anger. How could you have thought this would be easy?

"I don't need to be woken up! What is it that makes you think I have no agency over the people I choose to spend time with? Everyone I meet thinks they're entitled to touch me, demand me. Everyone but you. You, the person I chose to love, who I love everyday. Do you think you pulled the wool over my eyes and you're snapping me out of it? Is that what you really think?"

And isn't this the most puzzling thing? That he's not sad or gently accepting; Dick is mad.

"I just—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't mean to yell, but really, I can't bear it if you see me as some god on a pedestal, unattainable and inhuman, like everyone else sees me. I love you on purpose."

"You're so accomplished, though," you say weakly. "You're..." You wave your hand over him. "You're fucking Nightwing, D. You were Robin, you have superheroes for friends, Batman for a parent, you're beloved by, like, all of Jersey—"

"My love, you know those are just parts of me. You see all of me. You know me. And that's not a one-way privilege, okay? I'm so damn lucky to know you, to love you, to be with you, to fight with you. To fight for you. Knowing you isn't something I take for granted."

"But I'm boring," you say, tears spilling over. "Jesus Christ, Dick, I'm plain and untalented, barely a dime to my name, so painfully ordinary that—"

"Listen to me," he says, taking your face in his hands. "Flying around or shooting lasers out of your eyes, sure, it's cool, and it's helpful for taking down an alien dictator. But I don't need you to do any of that, honey. I don't need nor want you to be anyone but you. I wasn't tricked or swindled into loving you. We caught each other halfway, just like we were meant to."

You let him pull you into his arms, let him press your tear stains to his silk pocket square, let his hair fall around you.

His embrace is solid, firm, but when he inhales, his shoulders shake.

"Do you—" He swallows, throat against yours. "Do you still want to break up?"

His heart beats against your cheek.

"I'm just afraid you'll get tired of me," you whisper. "Bored. Annoyed."

"I won't," he whispers. "You're the least boring person ever. It's never boring to be loved."

You squeeze your eyes shut. Dick's warmth encloses you.

"No, I don't want to break up. I'm sorry."

He holds you tighter, and you realize you never had to match Dick's tie. Not when you've got his heart.

[lunariiia]

Yandere Dick Grayson x reader (romantic)

Restraints -. “Be a good girl and sit still. You don’t want me to be unhappy right?”

Dick Grayson scared you. His behavior scared you, his eyes, his demeanor scared you. Everything about him scared you.

It was funny really. He used to be, one of the few people, that you could feel safe with. Now you can’t say the same thing. The start of your relationship was fantastic, some would say it was even perfect.

However, that paradise period was not meant to last. Eventually the cracks in your relationship came to the surface. Dick started to become possessive and controlling. That meant no more free control for you.

No more hanging out with your friends or going to parties and having fun. Suddenly you weren't allowed to dress like you wanted to. There was always a certain way to behave and act. Around him, your family and his. It became too much.

And then one day you decided enough was enough. You certainly couldn't take it anymore and you truly wanted to get away from Gotham City and its never-ending crimes.

You tried as sweetly, as you could be to break up with him. It didn't go too well. It was a train wreck. You could still remember Dick screaming at you. Begging you not to leave him behind.

Crying over your 'so called betrayal.'

You tried to calm him down. You really did. But somehow, he managed to surprise you with a cloak soaked in chloroform. You woke up in a dark room. Nothing like your cozy and warm bedroom. No, this room was cold and filled with shrines of you.

Things you didn't even realize was gone was in here. The walls were filled with pictures of you. Even some of your clothes was laying around. Soaking wet. You didn't even want to imagine what he'd done to your clothes.

It wasn't soon after that he finally decided to visit you. He was happy to see you up and delusional for thinking that you wanted to be here. Again, you tried to calm him down and plead for him to let you go.

He wouldn't listen. Instead, he chose to inject you with a sleeping serum while rocking you back and forth. Whispering how about how much he loved you and that you were going to spend eternity forever.

And that leads to how you ended up in his kitchen. Currently chained up to a chair and eating dinner with him..

Or rather Dick eating and him trying to force-feed you. His actions leave you shaking. Filled with fear.

"Be a good girl and sit still. You don’t want me to be unhappy right?”

He smiled at you sweetly. Like a delusional predator glancing down at their helpful prey. And like the helpful prey that you were. you hesitantly shook your head. "Of course, not Dick."

"Ahh, how adorable you are! I can't wait for all the things, that I’m going to do to you now.

You should've never agreed to that date.

[chappelroans]

if you love me, you don’t love me in a way i understand

wishbone, richard siken // bite the hand, boygenius // u.k // the only thing, sufjan stevens // fleabag // moon song, phoebe bridgers // u.k // u.k // used to be friends, searows

[pensivegladiola]

You can’t be too good at your job: FALSE.

Richard Mansfield’s 1880s onstage portrayal of Dr. Jekyll’s transformation into Mr. Hyde was so good that people accused him of being Jack the Ripper and even wrote letters to the London police encouraging his arrest.

[ellana-ravenwood]

From parents to babies - Batfam x fem!reader

Synopsis : You and Bruce got turned into toddlers !! Shenanigans ensue, of course. 

This is part of a little “series” I guess, here’s the first part with Jason : Jason Todd(ler). I’m planning on writing a lil story for all the kids hehe, but I thought : “hey, what about Batmom and Bruce ?” and here we are. Hope you’ll like this ! 

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you. 

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

“Bruce !” 

“(Y/N) !” 

You manage to scream each other’s names before-

Before a white flash engulfed the both of you, and you suddenly disappeared, only a pool of your clothes remaining where you once stood. 

“Nooooo !!” is the last thing you hear before your mind goes blank, and you recognize the voice as being your youngest son’s, Damian. The sound of his scream greatly distresses you, but alas, you cannot do anything to help as you feel yourself slowly fading away and- 

Footsteps. Running fast to reach the place you stood on merely seconds before. But you’re not there anymore, you’re not there !

“It’s not possible !” 

That’s Jason. His voice breaking at the end of his sentence, as he approaches the bunch of clothes left on the floor, a lump in his throat as the inevitable is starting to be clearer and clearer, and he cannot refuse reality anymore.

Vaporized. His parents just got vaporized by that wannabe-magician’s laser ! 

In the mess of it all, that asshole even escaped ! Which was a good thing, in a way, because Jason promised you and Bruce he would never kill again, but he wasn’t sure he could hold that promise if he was faced with the man who took away his beloved parents. 

You all only just made peace with each other, only just became a family again ! How was he suppose to go on losing you once more ?

Dick was the first to reach the spot in which you were. He had always been the fastest of them all. His heart beats too fast in his chest, and he has this horrible thought that it’s the second time he sees his parents being killed right in front of him when-

Movements. Small movements. There, amongst his father’s suit. And there, amongst his mother’s clothes. And then-

Little hands. Fighting to find an exit in this labyrinth of fabrics. Little grunts of frustration, like when a child is trying to do something but doesn’t quite manage to do it. Finally finding an out. And-

“Oh shit.” 

Dick says, as he stares at- Two kids ?? 

One, a little boy. who couldn’t be more than two years old, black hair, bright blue eyes. The second one, (E/C) eyes and (H/C) hair and-

“Oh shit.” 

Tim says, as he’s the second one to reach the place and he immediately understands that his parents aren’t dead, but rather...

They’ve been turned into toddlers ! 

“Oh shit !” You exclaim happily, giggling. 

“Oh shit !” Baby Bruce repeats, and you both look at each other and giggle even more. Damn it. They’ve been in the care of children for only a second, and they already taught you bad words !

Bruce reaches for you, and there’s no doubt now that those two kids are indeed you and your husband ! Because immediately, you move closer to each other, your clothe much too big for you now being like blankets on you. 

Dick picks the both of you up, wrapping you in the cloths, and turns around to greet his siblings. 

Slowly, all your children reach you and-

“Oh shit !” You and Bruce say in unison, proud to show everyone (whomever those people were) that new word you just learned. 

And “oh shit” indeed, is on all of your kids’ mind. 

************

Of course, it had to happen when Alfred was away on his one vacation a year...Of freaking course. 

It wouldn’t be funny otherwise, right ? 

Only Alfred, could find a solution to this problem ! Your kids were totally lost ! 

Evidently, neither you nor Bruce remembered who you really were. You were clearly just two two years old. 

And it seemed you didn’t mind being picked up by people you didn’t know, as long as you could stay together (you two downright SCREAMED so loudly, when Jason tried to take you from Dick’s arms so his brother wouldn’t have to hold the both of you). 

It was as if that, at least, remained. Your bond. 

As if you were just- Instant friends, or something. 

They got you home, and : 

“Ok, any of you ever took care of babies ?” 

“Me not baby !” You say, glaring at your oldest son. It’s true, you knew you were two (somehow), you were no baby anymore ! 

“I’m sorry mom, I just- Oh gods this is so weird.” 

And it truly was, weird, to see their parents, the two people they knew they could always count on if they had a problem, being literal children. 

They couldn’t call them for help, you guys barely knew how to properly walk ! And had a very small vocabulary, too...Dick shook his head. This wasn’t a time to diss babies, this really wasn’t the time ! 

“Ok, first things first, we need to find them clothes. Duke, Jason, go the a shop and get them some stuffs to wear. While Cass and I will go buy some food for them. Damian and Dick, stay here and take care of them.” Aaaah Tim, ever so pragmatic. In a matter of seconds, he had gotten over the shock of the situation, and was taking matter in his own hands. 

And it was good. It was a start. They had no idea what they were going to do after, except the fact they had to find a way to get you back to normal. But at least, they had the beginning of a plan. 

They knew they could all count on Tim for plans. From A to Z, he would find a way. He had no idea how to take care of babies, of course, but his mind could find solutions to every problems. 

Yes. Yes. They only had to start moving. And things would be alright. They could do this. 

They could do this. 

They had to do this, for both your sake. 

************

Officially, Bruce and (Y/N) Wayne went away on a surprise vacation. Your disappearance had to be explained. 

None of your kids called Alfred, the butler deserved his annually vacation after all, and they knew he would come right home if he heard. So they let him be, and started to take care of their “baby parents”. 

Brucie ish scared

Before being the way Gotham’s media, models and such, called him when he still had his playboy persona, and not his “family man” one that he now had, “Brucie” was the nickname his mom gave him. 

Never in public, of course, but when they were home. When she was telling him bed time stories or singing lullabies to him. When she woke him up, gently, in the mornings. When she told him to come home for dinner, as he was playing in the garden. 

“Brucie”, was a name Bruce always associated with his mother’s affection and love. Which is why he hated how the media, and certain people, self-appropriated that name, and associated it with that persona who wasn’t even himself. 

It’s not like he could do anything about it, though. He had a role to play. 

And so, “Brucie” became that “other him”, while initially, it was his true self...

It had been years, since anyone had called him that. He wasn't a playboy, anymore, and your little nickname for him (aside from “my heart” and other term of endearment) was “my Broosh”. 

And so finally, this name came full circle. 

Brucie. 

That’s how he called himself. Toddlers had that tendency to talk about themselves in the third person, sometimes. And Bruce, was referring to himself as “Brucie”, not “Bruce”. 

Your children were a hundred percent sure it was because even if he didn’t seem to ask for his parents, a part of him remembered them, and how his mom called him. 

Even turned into a toddler who didn’t remember much of his own life, Bruce still had his parents in mind. 

And so he called himself Brucie. 

And Brucie was a scaredy cat ! 

The irony of which didn’t escape any of your kids. 

What, the “fearless Batman” was afraid of literally everything ? That was funny. Dick made sure to take PLENTY of videos (just if he needed leverage for something one day). 

Brucie got scared of the vacuum cleaner. Brucie got scared of the dark. Brucie got scared of any noise that was too loud. Brucie got scared whenever (Y/N) wasn’t around. Brucie-

“Brucie ish scared !” He’d whimper, and run towards the closest “adult” he could find (any of your children, though over half of them were far from being official adults), seeking comfort. 

Every time, and it was the most adorable thing to witness, you’d rush to him, and hold him saying : “No scared Brooshie, no scared, me here. Me here.” 

First, “Brooshie” = so darn cute, a toddler adaptation of the traditional “Broosh”. Second, the way you’d shield him in your little arms, and how he’d hide his face and close his eyes, how he’d hold onto you and calm down as you told him to not be scared, it had to be peak adorableness.

And in a way, toddlers you were a good reflection of adults you. 

Bruce was no longer scared, in the strictest sense of the term. He had shunned all his emotions, locked them away deep in his heart, for years. Ignored his pain, and the remnant of his fears. 

And then you came in, and forced open his heart, shattering all the walls he build for years, and making it impossible for him to live without you (and vice versa). 

Just as Baby Bruce found comfort and safety in your arms, just as he was soothed by your voice, Adult Bruce knew he could always be safe and warm in your embrace. 

Nobody, when witnessing such scenes, could even dare say you weren’t made for each other. 

DICK 

It was so weird. 

Dick just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you two were turned into kids. Like, what ? 

His...parents were now younger than him. How weird was that ?? 

Of course, he knew he should be used to weird things by now. After all, over the years, from when he first became Robin to now, he had seen his fair share of strange stuffs. But this-

This was really, really odd. 

“Ick !” was the name you and Bruce decided to give him. No matter how many times he made you repeat it, you could never truly manage to say his name properly. And so, he was now “Ick”. 

And “Ick” had no clue how to take care of children. 

Was this how Bruce felt, when he officially adopted him ? Was this how you felt, when you became his mom while being so young ? 

Of course, Dick was older when he first arrived. But he was also a lot more traumatized. And he knew he could be difficult, at times. He could be so damn angry, back then. 

While you and Bruce ? You were adorable kids. You’d listen to him, and never talk back. What, you were supposed to be in your “terrible twos” era, yet it seemed like you were just good kids. 

Of course, the fact that your eldest son let you do absolutely everything you wanted might’ve been a reason as to why you two were so “nice” with him, and didn’t throw any tantrum. 

No tantrum needed, when the person taking care of you would let you do whatever you wanted. 

You didn’t wanna wear pants ? No problems. You didn’t want to eat your vegetables, but wanted sweets instead ? All good. You didn’t want to take a nap ? Then he could play with you a little longer. 

Yes. It became quite apparent that Dick could not resist you, at all. 

Which wasn’t much of a surprise, really. Because he was the same way with his siblings. They could make him do whatever they wanted to (outside of work, of course. When they were vigilantes, it was an entire other story, but it was because he often had to take the “leader” job, and a mistake could cost a life). 

And so, even though he found it extremely weird, and couldn’t quite call you “mom” and “dad” anymore (and who would blame him ?), he didn’t hate taking care of you. 

He sort of saw it as “payback”, for all the years you put up with his moods. For all the time you didn’t give up on him, and all the moments you were there to catch him when he fell. 

The reason he found it so hard to accept and fathom the situation, was because you and Bruce had become such “safety nets”, for him. 

You were his parents. He couldn’t think of a life without you. Without your guidance. Without your soothing words. Without your scolding, when he needed one. Without-

He couldn’t accept this turn of event, because he needed you. He had pushed you enough, in his teenage years and early adulthood. Now, he realized he absolutely needed his parents. 

He had to find a solution, and fast. Because although he didn’t mind taking care of you as you were nice kids, he just wanted his parents back. 

JASON 

Jason was the most responsible one. 

Which, when people knew your children, wasn’t that surprising.

He’d always been a responsible kid, despite what anyone could think. 

He was a really good big brother, always looking out for his little siblings, and being there to be their voice of reason (Dick being his...he had a "decent teacher”). 

And so he became the “mom” of the house (it’s a nickname Tim, Duke and Damian gave him, when he wasn’t there). 

He had always loved cooking, ever since he was a kid. So he took it upon himself to cook healthy meals for both you and Bruce, and would scold Dick whenever he’d caught his brother red handed giving you candies and other ice cream right before dinner ! 

Bruce hated carrots, and you despised spinach. Other than that, it seemed you were willing to try everything he made for you two. 

Jason spend hours on the internet searching for recipes fit for two years old, for things you should feed kids this young. And he came up with quite a diet for the both of you. 

The food he made was delicious (and more than once, he caught one of his sibling eating from your spoon instead of feeding you !). 

Jason would be the one to remind everyone of yours and Bruce’s bed time. After all, “bed time” in the Wayne household had always been a little;..different, to say the least. But with toddlers ? It couldn’t be. It had to be regular, or they’d be too tired. 

Jason made a carefully planned sleep schedule for his “parents”. And when he wasn’t the one babysitting at night (they all took shifts so they could still do their vigilante jobs), he would call his sibling when it was bed time to make sure they’d respect it. He would genuinely harass Dick, because he knew his older brother was “weak” and could never refuse puppy eyes (after all, he abused of that technique to get him to do whatever he wanted, when he was younger), and he had to be reminded that a regular bed time was important !

How odd it was, for thugs, being downright beaten down by the scary Red Hood, while the latter would talk in his income and say things like : “I can’t believe you gave them ice cream before sleepy time again !” and others : “They’re babies, they need at least ten hours of sleep !” 

Jason didn’t let any tantrum through. Where Dick would just let you and Bruce do whatever you wanted, Jason had clear limits.

Because that is how you raised him. Sure, Bruce could be a little too strict sometimes, especially with Dick. But he had grown as a father, and slowly learned the difference between being too rigid and allowing his kids to be kids. 

Jason often joked that Dick was the “trial and error” era, but he wasn’t too far off. With Dick, you and Bruce made plenty of mistakes. You did with your other kids too, of course, but with your eldest most of all. Because he was your first child, and you had no idea what you were doing at the time. 

But, yes. Jason knew the importance of limits, for children. Kids needed boundaries, so they could feel safe. He knew, because it totally worked on him. 

And so, you’d have a tantrum ? Too bad, you’d just have to calm down and ask again nicely. Jason was intransigeant. 

He was, though, the first one there if you or Bruce woke up crying during the night. And he’d take you in his arms (always the both of you at the same time), and sing to you. Or tell you stories. Up until you’d fall asleep again. 

Jason, although he had strict schedules and food diet, was such a gentle soul. Such a gentle carer. You knew that one day, he would make a great dad. And if that experience taught any of you anything, it was that yes, yes. 

Jason told would one day make a wonderful father. 

TIM 

"I think he doesn’t like me...” 

Tim said, deflated and defeated, as, once again, his dad (in baby form) cowered away from him as he approached. 

You ? You enjoyed being taken care of by Tim. You liked him very much. But for some reasons, “Brucie” seemed scared of him. 

“Don’t say that. I think he’s just- shy.” 

“Conner, honey, I appreciate you trying to comfort me, but if he was truly shy, he wouldn’t just- Oh come on !” 

Of course, Bruce chose that exact moment to jump in Conner’s arms, and to hide his face in his chest so he wouldn’t see Tim anymore. Superboy chuckled uncomfortably, trying to act as if it wasn’t because Bruce was scared or anything, but Tim couldn’t be fooled. 

Tim could never be fooled. 

And so he sighed, and held you a little closer. At least, his mom always loved him, no matter what age she was. 

You seemed to understand that Bruce’s actions made Tim sad, and even as a toddler, it greatly distressed you to see one of your “kids” sad. So you wiggled to signify to Tim that you want him to put you back down and-

“Oh, not you too, mom ?” 

You walk towards Conner, and Tim looks even sadder, as now, both of his “parents” seem to like others better than him...Even if they were just kids, and that Tim knew they weren’t doing it on purpose, his feelings were still hurt. 

But then-

You shake Conner’s pants, signifying for him to crouch down to your level. Baby Bruce is in his arms, and beams as he sees you. 

“’Own, ‘own !” He says, meaning “down”, and Conner puts him next to you. 

Immediately, Bruce takes your hand, and smiles widely. Which comforts Tim a little. At least, even as toddlers, it seemed you two were inseparable.

But then, you drag him towards Tim, and it’s obvious Bruce only follows because he seems very attached to you. The little boy does not want to be there, in front of Timothy Wayne-Drake.

And Tim looks down, sadly. He ruffles your hair affectionately, and says : 

“Good try mom, good try. But I don't think he likes me, at all.” 

You look at Tim, and then turns around towards Bruce, who was currently hiding behind you (how cute it was, that you always seemed to protect him when he was scared). But this time, you’d have none of it. 

Very much alike when you were adults, and you took none of your husband’s shit. You’d always set him back on track. Always. 

And so, toddler you said : 

“Bwooshie, Tim nice ! Tim good ! Tim fwiend !”

You let go of Bruce’s hand, and the boy whimpers and tries to catch your hand again, but takes a few steps back because he doesn’t want to get too close from Tim. But then-

Then you hop in Tim’s arms, and you snuggle against him. You smile at Bruce, and nods at him saying again : “Tim fwiend ! Tim nice !” and your son cannot help himself and hold you tight. 

Even turned into a toddler, he could count on his mama to cheer him up, it seemed...

Slowly, unsure, Bruce approached Tim. The boy was still obviously wary, but those were first steps. 

After a while, Bruce finally came towards Tim, and laid his hands on your son’s knees. 

He looked deeply into Tim’s eyes, and must’ve finally decided that he wasn’t so scary, because then, he climbed into his laps and everything was resolved. 

And oh, oh how much this meant to Tim...

DAMIAN 

“Father, you need to give her some air. I swear, even as children you two are impossible !” 

“AAAAAAAAAAH !” is Bruce’s response, as Damian tries to take him away from you. Apparently, young Bruce seemed to think screaming was an appropriate response to show his unwillingness to do something. 

And it frustrated Damian greatly. 

You had fallen asleep on the floor. Laid on your back, you were in a deep slumber, a pacifier in your mouth, your breathing regular. And Bruce was sitting next to you, your head was in his lap, and he was watching TV as one of his hand was on your head, the other one on your cheek. 

He too, had a pacifier in his mouth, and although he was focused on the TV show he was watching, it seemed like he had absolutely no intention on letting you go.

When Damian entered the room, he found the both of you like that, and decided it would be better if you slept in your bed. So he went to pick you up, gently taking his father’s hands off of you and-

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH !” The pacifier falls from his mouth, as he tightens his grip on you, and glares at a bewildered Damian. 

You’re so deep asleep that you don’t budge, and then Bruce, after glaring some more at Damian, turns back to watch the TV. 

But Damian will have none of it. “Be firm, sometimes.” Jason told him, and he was going to take his big brother advice to heart ! And so he made Bruce let go, and took you into his arms. 

After a pause, as Baby Bruce was too shocked to react, his mouth slowly turned down into a frown and-

The little boy bursted into tears. Big, real tears. Ugly sobs with lots of snots running down his nose. 

And it made Damian panic. 

He hated that. He hated those cries. It reminded him of so many bad memories. He couldn’t handle it, he couldn’t bear it. 

Even less so knowing this was his dad ! 

And so he quickly went to the floor, and took little Bruce in his arms, soothing him expertly as he was still holding you in his other arms. 

His shirt was wet from Bruce holding onto it and burying his face into it. But eventually, the boy’s sobs died down, and-

Asleep.

Bruce was fast asleep, too. And his little face looked so at ease.

There. In Damian’s arms, a hand holding one of your hand. 

It reminded him of his father as an adult, in fact. How sometimes, he would surprise you and him as you fell asleep on the couch in each other’s arms. And how his father’s face would look the most relaxed and pleased, when you were holding him...

Damian tightened his grip on both of you. He was ready to protect you even if it meant he would have to sacrifice himself ! 

And oh- Oh he felt something growing inside him. Something important.  

Eventually, you and Bruce would be back to normal. He knew it, he knew his siblings would figure something out. Yes. You’d become his parents again. 

But he-

He somehow wanted a baby,  in this house. 

CASS

You both clearly adored Cass. 

You would walk towards her, and demand for her to pick you up. And then, when she would inevitably do it, you’d both snuggle against her and quickly fall asleep, absolutely content. 

Damian mentioned that he read somewhere that children felt people’s calmness. And so he conjectured that you liked falling asleep on her, because you felt calmed and secure. 

Which was the truth. 

It made Cass’ heart melt. She, for obvious reasons, never held children before. And she definitely never thought that the first kids she would hold would be her own parents...

Physical touch had always soothed Cass. 

Before she met you and Bruce, she was never allowed to be touch, and to touch other. She’d never receive a hug, or a soothing kiss. 

Never. 

So when you adopted her, she swore she’d take every opportunity to snuggle against you. Against her parents. Oh, and her brothers. None of them could resist a hug from her, not even Jason or Damian. 

If Cass wanted a hug, she would have it. 

So, she felt so fulfilled, when baby you and baby Bruce came to seek hugs from her. As if everything went full circle. 

You and your husband gave her the comfort of parental love. Gave her the safety of your arms, and taught her how important it was to have people you loved close. 

And here she was, soothing little versions of you, making you stop crying just by holding you. 

Yes. It was a full, nice, comforting and warm circle. 

And Cass felt so happy, when you hugged her. Whether you were kids or adults. 

DUKE

Duke had tons of little cousins. 

Cousins he still saw now, of course. None of his uncles and aunts could take him in, for different reasons (the main one being that none of them lived in Gotham anymore, what happened to Duke’s parents being the last straw...And Duke did not want to leave the city just yet). But he still stayed in contact with them. 

Before they all moved, Duke, who was the oldest of the kids in his family, used to babysit his cousins all the time. So, he had experience with children. 

And it showed. 

With you and Bruce, he was nice, yet strict. He (and Jason) was the only one who didn’t let you do whatever you wanted, and who would plainly ignore any of your tantrums. 

He was the only one able to detach himself from the fact you were his parents, and viewed you as normal children he had to take care of. 

This is probably what saved him. What made him be able to live with that situation. Just like Dick, he really wanted you back to normal. But his defense mechanism was to pretend you weren’t you, but random kids he had in his care. 

It was a lot, for a seventeen years old, but Duke was strong. 

You’d always known he was strong, from the moment he became your ward, to now, as he was officially adopted and called you “mom”. 

For his own sanity, Duke viewed this as a “baby sitter” job, and so, on purpose, didn’t get attached to baby you and baby Bruce too much. He didn't want to, because he didn’t want you to stay like that. 

He wanted his parents back too, he needed you still, he was too young to lose parents a second time ! 

And so Duke shut his feelings away, and took care of you as if you weren’t really you. He gave you lots of care and love, as a child needed, but-

But he pretended you, as his parents, were away for a while. And constantly thought of a plan to get you back to your normal self.

They never sleep alone 

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!” Baby Bruce screamed, as loud as he could, holding onto your hands for dear life. 

“Me not want, me not want !” You say, kicking Dick with your little legs and holding Brucie’s hands too. 

Your kids quickly realized that they COULD NOT separate you for bed time. 

They had bought two children’s bed, but in the end, only one was used. You’d fall asleep all snuggled to each others, pacifier in your mouth. 

“It’s- Kind of like when they’re grown up.” Damian says, and they all nod. 

Yes. Yes it’s true that you two found it really hard to find sleep, when the other one was absent. True insomnia would hit you, in the event that one of you couldn’t be here for the night. 

What transpired in your toddler form, how you’d scream if separated, also existed with the adult versions of you. 

And it comforted your children, in a way.

They knew that their parents were still in there, somewhere. 

ACE 

“Doggy !” Little Bruce beamed happily, as he ran as fast as he could towards..Well, his dog, actually. 

Ace was taken aback, at first, as he recognized his master’s smell, but couldn’t figure out why he was so...small. 

Bruce ran to him, and literally fell on the dog hugging him tightly. 

“Doggy !” The little boy said, and your children felt their heart melt. 

None of them ever thought they’d ever call their dad “cute”, despite you trying to convince them that he really could be cute (some would say you were biased). 

But here, in that moment, as their dad seemed so damn happy just because of his dog, no other words came to their minds. 

Cute. 

Unruly little buggers !! 

You two, together, could be...

“Tornadoes !! They’re goddamn tornadoes !!” Jason screams, as he was running after you. 

You were wearing only your diaper, managing to escape the grasp of your son by taking sharp turns there and there, and knocking down every single things on your way. 

On the other side of the living room, Tim and Damian were trying to catch Bruce, as he was doing the exact same things. 

Ten seconds. 

They left the both of you alone for less than ten seconds !! 

And when they came back, you and Bruce apparently had decided that it was fun to break extremely valuable objects, including vase, and a large array of ornaments. 

You were giggling like a little devil, as you slowly devastated the living room. 

“Alfred is going to kill us !” Duke says, holding his head in his hands, standing there watching the disaster unfold in front of him. What else could he do, really, when some of Gotham’s mightiest heroes couldn’t even get a hold of you ?? 

Finally, Jason catches you, just as Tim lunges forward and grasp his dad as well. The two of you wiggle like snakes as you try to get away, but you do not cry. 

No, on the contrary, you both laugh way too loudly, probably thinking that “destroying the house” was a great game.

And your kids could swear that your laughs were genuine “evil laughs”. 

Later, on the security camera, they’d know what happened. 

At first, you were both sitting on the floor, playing with toys, waiting patiently. But then, Bruce got on his feet, and walked that wobbly unsure walk all children have at first towards the coffee table. 

Something had caught his attention. It was a small crystal vase, that Alfred had put there years ago, for decoration. It went splendidly with the carpet, and matched the room perfectly. 

And it was shiny, and Bruce wanted it. 

He tried to climb on the coffee table, wiggling his little butt to give himself some momentum and get on it...but he couldn’t do it. That’s when you came into action, and pushed him so he would get on. 

He turned around, and giggled, as if to thank you, and then-

Then he brought you the vase. 

It was quite adorable, really. He wanted it, because it was shiny and looked cool. But then he decided to give it to you, instead. 

He let himself fall on the floor from the coffee table once he gave you the vase, and you both stared at it for a second. Before, for some reason, you took it and threw it hard on the wall ! 

Seriously, sometimes, kids were absolutely impossible to understand. What made you want to suddenly throw that vase like that ? Nobody would ever know. But what was known, is that it seemed like both you and Bruce liked that, because you looked at each others, as if conniving, and pushed yourself off of the floor, standing up. 

And then, as your children entered the room with some food, you proceeded to start destroying everything you could get your hands on, up until they finally managed to get a hold on you.

And your downright EVIL laughter filled the room.  

Your kids were DEFINITELY going to get that security camera footage out one day again, if you ever decided to punish them or scold them about something. 

Back to normal 

Zatanna, as usual, to the rescue. 

When your kids were finally able to reach her. She arrived barely minutes after they exposed the problems to her. She had been in another dimension, and therefor couldn’t be reached for a while. 

From her understanding, it’s been almost a month since you turned into toddlers. And finally, she was there (which was good, because Alfred’s one month vacation a year was coming to an end, and your kids really wanted to pretend nothing ever happened). 

Ah but she was accompanied by an unwanted visitor...

“What are you doing here, Constantine ?” Damian asks, holding you in one arm, and his father in the other. Protectively. 

“What, I learn that the big bad bat got turned into a kid and you think I could miss that ? No bloody way haha. Curiosity got the best of me !” 

“I’m sorry guys, I didn’t mean to tell him but he was there when you called...”

“It’s all good aunt Z, it’s all good. To be fair, I was hoping someone else would see this too, so we can NEVER let them forget they had to wear diapers again haha.” 

“Grayson !” your youngest son exclaimed. It’s been a while, since Damian called Dick “Grayson”, but he was absolutely shocked about this “betrayal” ! 

“Ok, ok. Let’s make sure dad never forget he had to wear diaper again !”

Damian thought about it for a while, and then said : “And you’ll leave mom alone ?”

“Yes, promised.” Dick says, and Constantine nods too (he wasn’t about to mock you anyway, he was too scared of you). 

“Alright, then it’s acceptable.” 

And on that note, Zatanna started a ritual. 

************

“What the hell happened ??” Are Bruce’s first words. And then, he sees you, and takes you into his arms, holding you with almost too strongly. 

“I thought I had lost you...” He whispers, and you hold him back just as strongly, because you had the same thought. The last thing you remembered, after all, was that laser coming towards the two of you and then-

And then what ? 

After letting you hug each other, your children finally tell you what went on. 

And oh. Oh you were so damn proud of them, they did so good ! 

I want a baby sibling 

A few weeks went by. 

A few weeks, during which both Dick and John Constantine flooded the group chat all the supers had together with baby pictures of the Batman (oddly enough, they didn’t divulge any picture of you...probably because you scared them a little), and embarrassing videos. It was an endless source of jokes, and teasing from everyone. 

But you didn’t worry too much though, you knew your husband would have his revenge (in fact, you were more worried for your son and for Constantine than anything else). 

In any case, that episode would be soon behind you, save for a few mockeries there and there. At least, that’s what you thought. 

One morning, Damian just casually entered your bedroom and stood before your bed, staring at the two of you, as you were slowly leaving the dream world. 

You thought it was an emergency, at first, as none of your children would ever dare to just walk in your bedroom like that (lest they witness something that could scar them for life). But Damian calculated the risks. 

It was much too early, for either of you to be awake. So it was safe. And so he came in, without knocking, and planted his feet resolutely in the floor, his hands on his waist, staring the both of you down. 

“What is it, buddy ?” You ask, half-asleep. Bruce, his hair a mess, sat up, dazed. 

“I came to an important decision. One taken in the light of recent events.”

Confused, neither you nor your husband say anything. Waiting for what your son is going to say next. Slowly, he turns around, and starts to walk left, then right, then left...Pacing in front of your bed, his eyes never leaving you two. 

Finally, he stops, and solemnly says : 

“I want a baby sibling. Sister or brother I do not care, I just want a little one to take care of, and to be a big brother. I think, I am done being the youngest.”

Bruce stares dumbly at his son, his face blank and expressionless, sure now that he must still be dreaming. And you’re not doing any better. You blink fast a few time, and repeat : 

“A baby sibling ?”

Damian doesn’t miss a beat as he says : 

“That’s right. Like I said, a little brother or sister, it does not matter to me, as long as it’s mine. My little brother or sister, I mean. Of course, they’ll be their own person, and we won’t own them per se. We’ll just take care of them.” 

Silence. 

A long silence. 

Finally broken by your son : 

“Well. I’ll leave you to it then. I expect you will take my request seriously. We will talk about it again another day. Thank you for listening to me, and see you at breakfast.” 

And on that note, your son leaves just as casually, as you look at him, astonished. 

You turn to your husband and-

You know what he’s thinking. You and Bruce never talked about having biological children, because the kids you already have were always enough for your happiness. You didn’t need more, you already loved them so much. 

But you both always told yourselves that if it were to happen...

Of course, you would accept it. You would raise that child with joy, too. It would be quite a bonus, to an already happy life. 

And so as your son leaves, and you look at each others you think-

A baby in the house, wouldn’t be so bad. 

__________________________________________________

Well, here we are ! I hope you liked this ! As per usual, comments/reblogs are more than welcomed, and always a great motivation to post more :). Don’t hesitate to tell me what you thought of this ! It always makes the time spend on a story worth it, when I hear from y’all :) <3. Thanks in advance, and thanks for reading this, too ! See you soon with another story ! 

[luvinescent]

Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.

Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.

Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)

In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.

“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.

Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.

Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.

She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.

Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.

“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.

She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.

Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.

Dorea named her Y/N.

As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.

“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.

Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths.  Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.

It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.

Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.

“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.

“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.

Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.

Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.

Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.

I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.

Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.

She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.

And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.

Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.

Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.

The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.

“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.

“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.

As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.

“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.

“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.

“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.

A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.

Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”

The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.  

“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “

“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”

“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, “No. I have children.”

Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.

“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.

Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.

Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.

Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.

After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.

“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.

Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.

Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.

Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.

“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.

Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.

She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.

Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.

“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.

Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.

“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.

“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.

As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.

“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.

Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.

“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.

A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.

“You can become a Stark”.

Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “

Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.

Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.

“No.”

Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “

“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.

The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.

Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.

Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.

“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.

She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.

Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.

“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.

Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”.  Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.

For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.

The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.

“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.

He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”.  She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.

Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.

“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.

Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her.  A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.

“Do you love him?”.

She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.

The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “

“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.

Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.

Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.

Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.

Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.

“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.

Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.

“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.

Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “

“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.

“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”

Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.

A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.

[makethatelevenrings]

Skeletons in the Closet // D. Grayson x gn!reader

Requested? Yep!

Warnings: reader is followed home at night!!! if anyone ever follows you home, you have my consent to beat the everloving shit out of them!!!! your life is far more valuable to a fucking creeps!!!

Summary: While being followed home after work, you get a call from your boyfriend. He sends in some help from a friend. Things are realized.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck fuck.

With your keys clutched tightly between your thumb and palm and your pepper spray poking out from your grip, you hurried down the street with your heart racing faster each step. Another glance over your shoulder confirmed it. You were being followed.

You had to stay late at work because two of your coworkers had the flu and this was the punishment you got for trying to be nice. Fuck this. Fuck capitalism. Fuck the world and having to be scared walking to your fucking apartment.

And just your luck, the red line stop near your apartment was closed for repairs to the platform structure so that meant you had to walk an extra four blocks to get home. Fuck.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden jolt to your system. With shaking hands you swiped your thumb across the screen and pressed it against your cheek as you kept walking.

“Hello?” You really hoped that the person on the other line couldn’t hear the pure, visceral fear in your voice but you doubted it.

“Hey. I was just calling because you never texted that you left work or got home.” Oh. Right. Your boyfriend of three months, Dick Grayson, was a perfect gentleman and he always appreciated a text from you when you got home at night, whether it was from work or a night out with friends. He didn’t care if you were out late partying. He just wanted to make sure you were home safe at the end of the night.

“Right, shit. Sorry. I just got out of work a half hour ago and…” You glanced back at the guy following you and dropped your voice. “Someone’s following me. I’m about ten minutes max away from my apartment and I’ve got pepper spray, but you should know that I-”

“Where are you?” His voice had grown frigid in the time you were rambling and you peered up at the street sign you just passed.

“Avalon and Fifth.”

Dick inhaled deeply and then said something away from the phone, as though he was talking to someone in the background. He moved back closer to the phone and started talking quickly.

“Okay, baby, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to put my friend on the line and she’s going to keep talking to you, okay? And in the meantime, I have another friend in the area and he’s going to come meet you. Keep walking towards your place. Don’t stop moving. Barbara will talk you through it.”

The line clicked before you could say anything and then a calm, pleasant voice filled your ear. “Hi, I’m Barbara. Dick’s told me a lot about you. Did you know he’s kind of obsessed with you?”

The sudden levity of the question elicited a laugh from you as you hurried down the darkened street. You could hear the footsteps getting closer and it made your throat close with anxiety.

“Hey Barbara, what’s going to happen?” you asked quietly.

“Don’t you worry about that. Just keep walking. You’re doing fine. Why did you stay late at work?”

“My coworkers are sick. Flu season and all that.”

“Hmmm, viruses are a bitch.” There was something in her voice that indicated more to her comment than you knew, but you didn’t have time to pry. The closer you got to an ally, the faster the steps sounded until the guy was full on sprinting towards you.

“Fuck,” you gasped as you turned to watch him barrel at you. Before he could get within three feet of you, a blur of black and blue swung down from seemingly nowhere and then Nightwing was standing over him, escrima sticks clutched tightly in his hands.

“Go,” the vigilante barked. He looked back at you and what a sight you probably made. Shaking, phone pressed to cheek and other hand gripping keys and pepper spray, and what felt like tears streaming down your cheeks, you stared back at the mask covered eyes. His chin dipped and you realized that he was inspecting you for some kind of injury. Nightwing raised his head to stare at you once more and then he jutted his chin out towards you in a silent command. The silvery white scar on his lower jar stood out under the light of the street lamps.

“Go,” he repeated. The man below him tried to sit up and the vigilante snapped one of his bludgeons down onto the man’s arm with a sickening crack, eliciting a scream from the man. You almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

You didn’t need another prompting and instead you turned, tucked tail, and sprinted the rest of the way home. You nearly forgot that Barbara was on the other end of the phone until you heard her call your name.

“I’m…I’m okay. I think. I…I’m okay.” Your hands shook so hard as you tried to unlock the door to your apartment that your dropped your keys and cursed under your breath. Scooping them up once more, you tried again and flew into your apartment.

“I’m home. Door’s locked. I’m fine. I…fucking hell. What just happened?”

“Hey, hey,” Barbara said. “Breathe with me, okay? That was a scary situation. Breathe. In two, out three. There we go.”

The fragments and pieces of your scattered brain started to knit an image together of what just happened. As the adrenaline receded, you were able to try and come to terms with the events of that night and one thing stood out to you.

The scar on his chin.

Nightwing’s.

The same scar that you pressed a kiss to in thanks for coffee. The same scar you made sure to pepper with kisses when your boyfriend curled around you and fell asleep against your chest. The same scar that you looked up at when he pulled sweet moans out of your lungs.

“I’m going to kill him,” you hissed.

Barbara barked out a laugh. “Please make sure to film it for me.”

“Oh, I will.” You tossed your keys and pepper spray onto the table just as a shadow passed over the window of your living room. “It’s been nice meeting you, Barbara, but I have to go strangle someone.”

“I’m going to put your number in my phone and we will be getting coffee soon.” You gave her a final goodbye and then stalked towards the window. Your phone tumbled onto the plush cushions of the couch as you passed. Yanking open the window, you stuck your head out and glared at the vigilante standing on the far end of your fire escape.

“So this is why you always make an excuse to not stay the night,” you snapped. Anxiety had turned to rage real quick. Nightwing grimaced and raised his gloved hand to run his fingers through his hair. It was then that you saw the fresh blood that mottled his knuckles and you knew exactly where it came from.

“And also why I make sure you get home at night,” he added quietly. You crooked your finger at him and he complied wordlessly. His footsteps were nearly silent on the old fire escape and you took a moment to marvel at how such a muscular man was able to move so quickly and quietly.

“Is this it? Any more skeletons in your closet?” you asked.

“You know about my family, so no. No more skeletons.”

“I’m going to ask Barbara when we go and get coffee,” you breathed against his lips. Dick paled slightly before he cleared his throat.

“That’s fair.”

“Now get in here and get that suit off. I’m still mad at you but I could really do with a hug right now.”

He didn’t protest.

Tag List: @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @bunny-kawa​ @khaylin27​

[axelsagewrites]

Robb Stark and Jon Snow*Competition

Part two to Share (here) which is the rivalry before hand or you can read this as stand alone smut. Part three at bottom

Pairing: Jon x f!reader, Robb x f!reader

Summary: just smut

Warnings: dom robb, dom jon, p in v sex, fingering, oral m and f receiving, spanking, threesome 18+

Word count: 3551

Masterlist Here

“What exactly am I supposed to be choosing?” you asked.

“My lady we can explain,” Jon began to stammer, cheeks going their familiar cute shade of pink, “Robb and I well we- “

“We both have an affection for you,” Robb continued trying to sound confident, but his voice failed him, “And we have been uh debating,” Robb said causing you to laugh.

“Debating?” you questioned, “It sounded more like an argument,” this time it was Robbs turn to blush and turn his eyes away.

Jon continued for his brother, “We just were trying to figure out which one of us you liked. Assuming you do like one of us,” Both boys were struggling to meet your gaze at this point.

“I might,” you said with a slight smirk causing both boys heads to snap up, their eyes watching you intently as you smirked leaning against your chamber door.

“Well, which one of us is it?” Robb asked with eager eyes. He was internally praying to the gods to give him some luck or at least to have him swallowed up by the grounds if he was wrong about your affection. Jon was silently thinking the same.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Who said it was one of you?” you said with a slight smirk. Both boys looked confused at your words. You walked closer to the pair with each word, “Would it be so bad if I didn’t choose? Were you not taught how to share?”

Your hands moved to rest on Robbs chest, looking up at him with a smile toying on your lip. “What do you think Robbie? Are you good at sharing?”

Robbs eyes flickered to Jon who was watching all of your movements. You couldn’t possibly be suggesting what they thought you were. “My lady,” Robb said, eyes returning to you, “What are you suggesting?”

You laughed lightly, stepping back from the taller boy before turning to Jon, “I think Jon knows,” you hummed causing Jon to look to the floor, face flushed bright pink, “Don’t you Jon?” you teased.

“I think I do my lady,” Jon murmured.

You moved closer to Jon, lifting his head up by his chin. Jon gazed at you with desperate eyes. Slowly, your lips moved to close the gap, capturing his into a gentle soft kiss.  Jons eyes fluttered closed at the soft skin of your lips on his. It was sweeter than any wine and his lips chased after yours when you pulled back.

Now you turned your attention to Robb who was silently stewing at his brother receiving all your attention, “Don’t pout,” you teased when you walked up to the taller man hands finding his strong shoulders again, “There’s enough of me to go around,”

Robbs strong hands suddenly grabbed your hips, pulling them into his harshly and causing you to gasp, “I don’t pout,” he almost growled before his lips dove down to capture yours. His kiss was hungry as his rough lips moved against your soft ones as you tried to keep up with his pace. Your lungs were screaming but air did not seem to matter anymore.

When the kiss broke Robb span you around by your hips, pressing your back into his chest, to face Jon. You could feel Robbs hard on pressing into your back. Jon’s face was darker than Robbs, with lust and anger spread across his skin. “What do you say?” Robb said, his hands still firmly placed on your hips to keep you in place, “Think you can handle a little competition?”

“It’s not a- “you started but Jon cut you off this time.

“Oh, but it is,” he said, walking closer to you, his chest a few inches from yours but eyes on Robbs, “Don’t throw a fit when im better at this than you,”

A dark chuckle fell from Robbs throat causing shivers to go down your spine, “You wish Snow,”

Jons eyes fell from Robbs to yours, his hands moving to gently take your face into his palms, “Maybe we should let you decide,” he said with a low voice, “You want us to share? Take turns fucking you?” his warm breath fanned your face and made shivers go down your skin. All you could do was nod. Jon took that as his que and his lips crashed onto yours, his hands moving to push Robb back and pull you by your waist into him. You craved the warmth of Robb against your skin again, but Jons lips were so sweet.

It felt like a perfect eternity however a rough hand suddenly pulled your shoulder, forcing the kiss to break. Robb stood in your place looking down at Jon, glaring into his eyes before turning to you, “Lay on the bed sweetheart,” he said with a softness to his voice, “Jon and I need to talk first,”

“Why don’t you strip while you wait,” Jon said before walking with Robb to the opposite side of the room to talk in hushed whispers.

You did as you were told, stripping down to your thin under shift which did little to cover your shape. Laying down on the bed of soft furs, you gazed at the two men across the room to admire their features when Robb suddenly looked, and your eyes snapped back to watch the ceiling as you waited.

You didn’t have to wait long as you heard footsteps crossing the room. Robb sat on the edge of the bed, his hand moving to stroke your jaw, “Are you sure about this?” he asked, all anger from before gone from his voice, “We can stop at any point,”

“I’m sure,” you said with a soft smile as you leaned into his soft touch, “I want you. I want both of you,” your eyes flickering to Jon who stood just behind Robb. You sat up slightly, your hand moving to rest on the back of Robbs neck, “Please,”

That was all it took for Robb to join his lips to yours, soft at first but a growing neediness began as he began to nip at your bottom lip. You gasped as his teeth sunk into your soft bottom lip, but it soon turned to a moan as his tongue slipped in and his hands moved to explore your body. First, they went down your shoulders, his touch gentle to start, before they moved to your breasts, squeezing them firmly making you moan.

Robb broke the kiss but only to strip off his outer clothes and tunic, leaving him in just trousers and his undershirt. You could see the hair on his chest peaking out and moved your hands to feel his hard chest under the thin fabric, “Like what you see?” Robb said with a cocky smile when he noticed your gaze.

Your blush didn’t matter as he pushed you down by your shoulder to crawl on top of you, his legs settling between yours. He began to grind down his hips into yours, his hard bulge pressing against your thinly clothed cunt. A hollow spot began to grow in your stomach as his bulge rubbed against your clothed clit, moving at just the right firm but slow pace.

Robb moved his lips from yours to leave harsh kisses to your jaw, down your neck, and to your collarbones. “Do you still have that red dress? The one that goes up to here?” he asked, tapping at the bottom of your throat. You nodded, “You’ll need to wear it tomorrow,” his voice was breathy, almost panting but you could not care when he began to suck dark marks along your collarbone.

Your hands moved to tangle in his curly hair, making him groan at your touch.  His hands still squeezing your tits in his hands, “You care about this shift?” he asked and this time you shook your head. You gasped when you heard fabric ripping and the cold air hit your chest. Robbs lips licked over your nipple causing it to harden under his tongue. He continued his assaults on your breast, one with his hand, rolling and pinching your bud between his fingers, the other with his mouth. You could not contain your moans as his teeth grazed over your hardened bud. “Robb,” you moaned.

He let go of your nipple with a pop, making a whine leave your lips, “Yeah me. It’s me who’s making you feel so good?” he asked with a smirk as he continued to roll his hips into yours.

You whined again when his hips stopped but held your breath when one of his hands moved down your body to move between your thighs, “Do I make you feel good?” he asked, his breath fanning your face, his lips so close but so far from your own.

You could feel his finger trailing up your already wet slit. “Yes,” you stuttered, unable to take your eyes off of his.

As soon as you said it Robb pushed a finger into you, his lips finding your neck again. He slowly began to pump his finger in and out of you at a teasingly slow pace, “Please,” you whined, and you felt his smirk against your skin.

Robb added another finger, a slight burn growing at the stretch but quickly disappearing as his fingers moved inside you at a slightly faster pace. You moaned as he began to lightly suck at your neck, your head rolling to the side to give him more space.

As you did your eyes fell on Jon who had moved to sit on a chair across the room, his eyes locked on you. your eyes scanned down his body and a smile on your lips when you could so clearly see the outline of his cock from his trousers. He had stripped down to his own trousers and undershirt, but it did little to hide his body which was more toned than you had expected.

Your attention was drawn back when Robb moved his thumb to rub against your clit as his fingers began to curl. Your eyes squeezed shut for a moment as you moaned from his touch, a warm feeling spreading across your body. Moaning his name only made him speed up. Jon watched the sight, his eyes dark with lust. The sight of him watching you, already hard only made you want this more. Then Robb curled his fingers in just the right way. Your body tensed up before all the pressure released liked water from a burst dam. Robb moved his hand to cover your mouth when a loud moan began as you came around his fingers. You gazed into Robbs eyes as you finished riding your orgasm on his fingers. “Not too loud darling,” Robb grinned as he placed a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t want someone interrupting out fun,”

“My turn,” Jon said as he stood from the chair.

Robb rolled his eyes, “Speaking of,” he looked down at you, pulling his fingers out leaving you feeling suddenly empty. “I’ll be right over there darling,” Robb said before getting off the bed.

You sat up as Jon walked over and stood at the edge of the bed. “Hey,” you said with a soft smile.

Jons hands moved to hold your face, guiding you over to sit on the edge of the bed looking up at him, “Hey,” he finally replied, his voice low, “You look so fucking good,” he said before his lips crashed onto yours.

You reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair, your neck craning up to meet his lips. You felt him slowly move down to sit on his knees, his face now eyelevel with your breasts. Jon moved his hands down to squeeze them gently before trailing them down your half-torn shift to rest on your hips. His fingers dug into the flesh. “I want you,” he said, breaking the kiss with ragged breath.

“I want you too Jon,” you said.

His eyes scanned over your body, “You’re so fucking perfect,” Jons hands gripped your hips tighter, “I wanna make you feel good. Lay down for me,” When you went to move back onto the middle of the bed he stopped you, “No love, just lay down here,” Jon pushed your shoulders gently to make you lay down, confusion written on your face as you did.

Jons hands pushed up the remaining fabric of your shift to reveal you to him. Your breath hitched when you felt his hot breath against your wet cunt. a shiver went through you when you felt his face sink lower. Jon placed soft kisses to your inner thighs. You moaned when he sucked the flesh, leaving small hickeys into the sensitive skin. Finally, Jon turned to the part of you that ached.

The hot breath on you was already making the hair stand up on your body. Jon moved your legs to rest over his shoulders, his fingers resting on your hips. When Jon leaned in to place a gentle kiss to your cunt you couldn’t help but whine. Your hand moved to gently rest on the back of his head as he licked a soft stripe up your slit. Then again and again till he was lapping up your juices like a starved man, his fingers digging into your hips. It was the only thing stopping you from bucking them as his tongue began to dive into you causing a knot to build in your stomach. “Jon please fuck,” your moans were breathier this time.

When Jons nose began to nuzzle into your clit you couldn’t help the loud whiney moan that fell from your lips. Jon pulled his lips off of your wet cunt for just a moment, “Can you do something Robb?” he said but the way his breath felt against your wet cunt was already making you whine again.

Robb crossed the room quickly to sit beside you on the bed. When Jons lips clashed back onto your cunt a moan fell from your lips only to be cut off by Robb crashing his into yours. He held you by your jaw as his lips danced with yours in a sloppy hungry dance. Robb couldn’t help himself when his hand moved to grab your tit, rolling your nipple in between his fingers.

Jon broke his downstairs kiss again much to your dismay “I don’t need help,” he said before diving back in.

“Its not for you,” Robb panted before capturing your lips again.

Nothing else seemed to matter as a hot knot began spiralling inside of you. especially not when Jon moved his fingers into your hole so he could free his mouth up to gently suck on your clit. If not for Robbs lips on yours the room would have been filled with your loud whines. It didn’t take long for the pressure to burst like a balloon inside of you especially when Jons teeth grazed your clit.

Robb had to hold you up as you rode out your orgasm on Jons face who didn’t stop until your body was twitching beneath him. Jon stood up from between your legs to look down at you, “Maybe we could share?” he said, eyes flickering to Robb.

“What were you thinking?” Robb said, eyes locked on you as you looked between the two men.

“I get her mouth,” Jon said, hand gripping your jaw.

“Good,” Robb grinned as he got off the bed and began to pull the rest of his clothes off, “I always wanted to be the one that fucked her,”

When Robb finally unlaced his trousers, you saw his cock spring free. It was hard, the tip was already red and leaking precum. You stared at it in a mix of amazement and fear when you realised its size. This was not helped by Jon pulling off his own trousers. Neither man was lacking in that department. Jons cock was thicker and slightly shorter but just as desperate as Robbs.

As Jon was pulling off his undershirt Robb moved to pull you across the bed, “Its not polite to stare,” he grinned as he moved you to kneel in front of him with your back against his chest.

“Sorry,” you stuttered as his hands moved to push the torn fabric off your shoulders before they moved to your breasts.

“Don’t need to be sorry love,” Jon said as he climbed on the bed to be kneeling in front of you, “Just need to let us take care of you,” he said caressing your face, “You wanna suck my cock while Robb fucks you silly?” All shyness had left Jons body by now as he stared down at you, hungry for your mouth on him.

The words were enough to make you shiver and you felt yourself grow wetter, “Yes please,” you murmured as Jons fingers traced your lips.

He pulled you in for one last brief kiss before moving back. Robb placed a gentle kiss to your neck before pushing you down to be on all fours in front of him, “If you wanna stop all you need to do is double tap my thighs,” Jon assured as you took your place, but you had no intention of stopping any of this.

“You look so fucking good right now,” Robb praised as he took his hard cock in hand, trailing its tip along your wet folds, “I’ve been waiting to fuck you for so long,” he said, his tip gently easing into your hole. His size caused a burn as he entered you slowly making you gasp. Jon held your face in his hand as Robb pushed himself slowly in, “You feel so good,” you heard him grunt.

Soon he was all the way inside of you, his length filling you complete. After a couple moments of easing to the pain you nodded up and Jon who did the same to Robb. Robbs hands found your hips, gripping the soft flesh gently as he began to pull out slightly before thrusting back in. you gasped as he began to thrust into you, moving slowly to begin with.

You looked up to see Jons cock staring back at you, its tip wet with precum. When you looked up at him through your eyelashes Jon almost came at the sight. “Please,” you whimpered as Robb continued his thrusts. “Please Jon,”

Jon did not need anymore instruction as he moved forward to put his cock into your open mouth. The feeling of your wet tongue under his cock and your soft lips wrapping around his shaft made him groan. You began to bob your head up and down his length, your mouth struggling to take him all in.

Meanwhile Robbs thrusts began to increase and which each thrust you found yourself taking more of Jons cock in your mouth. When Robb licked his fingers before moving them to rub sloppy circles onto your wet clit your moans vibrated up Jons cock. Jon couldn’t help his hips from bucking as he began to fuck your mouth back.

Their thrusts became synced and as Jon thrust into your mouth you were pushed deeper onto Robbs cock, his tip hitting new places. Jons hands moved to your hair, gripping it as he tried to steady himself so overwhelmed with pleasure.

Robbs hand went between gripping your hip to placing hard smacks on your ass to make it jiggle even more. The sight just made him want you more. His thrusts grew harder and faster.

You could feel Jons cock twitch in your mouth which made you moan once again on his cock. “I can’t- “Jon gasped when he suddenly spilled his seed into your throat. Robb did not stop his thrusts as you swallowed the seed, Jons face screwed up in pleasure before he pulled his cock out your mouth, leaving a trail of spit and cum behind.

When Jon moved back you couldn’t keep yourself up for much longer. Robb moved his hand to push your shoulders down into the mattress, your fingers curling up into the furs as Jon moved to lay beside where Robb continued to fuck you. however, this new position made Robbs cock hit new spots which caused a load moan to rip from your throat. Jon moved your head so that your moans were now muffled by the pillow Robb was fucking you into. You felt your last and most intense orgasm rush through you, your walls clenching around Robbs cock. Robb tried to ride out your orgasm but as your walls clenched around him, he felt his cock twitch before he spilled, eyes screwing shut as he gasped for air.

Robb knelt back onto his knees as he got his breath back. Meanwhile Jon had moved you to lay in his arms beside him as you were still panting from your last orgasm, unable to speak from all the pleasure.

“You did amazing,” Jon praised, leaving a soft kiss to your head.

Robb moved to fall beside you on the bed, rolling onto his side to face you, “Absolutely perfect darling,” he agreed, kissing your cheek. “We’ll have to do it again sometime,”

“Agreed,” you panted.

Jon nodded in agreement, “But next time I get to fuck her,”

“We’ll see,”

Part Three Here

Game of Thrones Taglist @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy

[fizzyxcustard]

Desperation.

Requested by anon and @skeleton-on-wheels0

Taken from: "Imagine that you find out Thorin is in love with you. But you accuse him of only wanting you because you’re the only woman in the Company and he’s desperate. You deeply offend him."

Again, I’m going to post this as a drabble as it’s fairly short, and I won’t tag anyone. 

“I am in love with you,” Thorin said softly as he stood next to you in Beorn’s barn. The midnight moon shone upon his face, highlighting his silver blue eyes, making them sparkle like aquamarine stones. 

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine at his revelation. Why on earth would Thorin ever feel something for you? Immediately your mind began rationalising his feelings, churning it all over in your mind. For a few seconds and you were silent. 

“And you do not feel the same?” Thorin asked sadly. “I knew it was best I keep my thoughts to myself.” 

“Thorin,” you whispered, placing your hand on his arm. “I…I know I’m the only woman in the Company and no doubt as a male, you’re going to have urges…”

“That is what you think?” he hissed. “You think this is all about me wanting to seduce you?” 

“Please, I didn’t mean it that way.” 

“Then how did you mean it? 

Something snapped within you, a sore pressure point that had been prodded many times over the years. A place where a deeply buried scar lay untouched, waiting for someone to inadvertently uncover it with their words. A flash of anger hit you full force in your head and chest. “You’re just desperate!” you shouted. 

With that, you turned around stormed away towards the back of the barn and slumped down on a bale of hay. Tears were falling down your cheeks now in quick procession which you rubbed away in frustration, only making your cheeks turn redder. 

Thorin sighed and grit his teeth, sensing that your words came from a place of pain. However, those words had also deeply pained him in return. Did you think so little of him? Trust so little? 

***

The next morning and the tension was still thick between you and Thorin. The whole of the Company, including Gandalf, all sat around a large table, drinking milk and eating honeycakes, specially made by the host himself.  However, Beorn announced gruffly that he had no more honeycakes for that morning’s meal, and you were the last person he was intending to serve. 

All the Dwarves, Bilbo and Gandalf looked on, their mouths full of food. Except Thorin. He was sat opposite you and immediately reached across to you and handed his cake to you. “Please, eat,” he said, offering you the cake and a sad smile. 

“I can’t take your breakfast,” you replied. 

“You can and you will,” Thorin said again, placing the cake on your plate. 

“Maybe we could split it?” 

Thorin didn’t respond, but instead kept his gaze locked on you as you broke the cake in half and then gave a portion back to him. 

***

After breakfast, you and Bilbo began filling the saddlebags of the ponies which Beorn was lending you. He had since made more honeycakes, enough to see all of you with food for a good couple of weeks. 

“May we have a moment, Master Baggins?” Thorin asked, suddenly appearing before you both. His eyes then moved to you, telling Bilbo that he wished to talk to you. 

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Bilbo said, flashing a nervous smile. 

“I wish to talk to you about last night. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way. That was never my intention to do so. But what I told you is the truth, and it has nothing at all to do with you being the only female in this Company. I am quite appalled that you think I would pursue you without any real feelings being involved.” 

Your gaze locked with his and you began to speak. “It was unfair of me to say what I did, and I’m sorry. Very few men have ever shown any interest in me in such a way, and then I become a member of your Company and find that you, the rightful king of your homeland, somehow has fallen in love with me. It reads like a pathetic joke. Maybe once we get to Erebor and you see more women again you may…”

“No,” Thorin insisted. “Why do you think so low of yourself? Who has broken you to the point that you cannot accept a declaration of love? I’d hoped you had begun to trust me by now. It is clear you don’t.” 

“I do trust you. Implicitly.”

“Obviously not. You cannot trust that my words are true, and that they come from my heart. I love you for everything that you are, for the woman you are. Not because of some lack of choice.” 

The sadness in his eyes was so clear to see and it made a lump rise in your throat. To keep doubting his love and pushing him away would be wrong of you. It was obvious that Thorin was speaking truth. 

[maysileeewrites]

a helping hand - John Murphy x reader

Summary: „Why are you helping me? I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ Set during 1 x 10 (I am become Death), based on this teaser.

warnings: mentions of blood + injuries, angst, Murphy being Murphy (yes, he does have a soft side in this, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not still a dick); please lmk if I forgot something! 

AN: I’m not quite sure whether anyone will still care for Murphy x reader in 2023, but I love my trash son so much, I just had to write something about him. Please let me know if you liked it! 

You dip the bloodied cloth into the bucket filled with water, watching as the water slowly turns red. Your hands are bloody as well and there’s dried blood crested under your fingernails, but with all the sick teens around you needing medical attendance, you don’t have time to try to thoroughly wash your hands, so you just dip them into the water, grabbing a bar of soap, watching as the water turns an even deeper red. 

Blood. 

There’s just so much of it. 

You sigh, standing up again. There’s no time for dwelling on your thoughts, not when the whole first floor of the Dropship is full of sick, coughing teenagers that need your help. 

You go to Fox and Connor next, checking up on them. But apart from trying to clean them up - they’ve started coughing up blood as well - and getting them to drink some water, there isn’t much you can do to actually help them. You have no medicine, no painkillers - apart from Monty’s moonshine and considering that a painkiller really is a stretch in your opinion -, nothing. Only a few spare blankets you and Clarke gave out earlier, in order to help keep everyone warm. 

A sudden wave of anger and irritation at your helplessness when faced with this unknown, dangerous virus overcomes you and you clench your fists in frustration. You allow yourself a moment to try and bury that emotion deep inside - because being this emotionally overwhelmed, you won’t be any help to the others -, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. 

When you open your eyes again, they land on Murphy - who’s looking right back at you with his good eye, the other one is still swollen shut. 

You gulp, trying to swallow down the nervousness that is suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Murphy’s the one who brought the disease into the Camp. 

After being tortured by the grounders for days, you try to remind yourself. After being unceremoniously tossed out of Camp for a murder he didn’t commit. And while he’s definitely a rude asshole that can be a bit unpredictable at times - though you think more often than not he’s just lashing out when provoked, attacked, or in case of the whole Charlotte incident, wrongfully accused - you don’t think that he’s as bad as everyone makes him out to be. 

But maybe that’s just you being naive, always wanting to see the good in people. He did try to go after Charlotte, after all. Though, you think, that probably had more to do with him seeking justice - a twisted, self-righteous kind of justice, but still justice - than vengeance. 

You sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Whatever the deal with Murphy is - and whatever the reason for you to suddenly spend so much of your thoughts on him is - right now, it doesn’t matter. 

Right now the only thing that matters is that he’s sick and hurt and he needs someone to help him clean up his wounds and that’s exactly what you’re here for. 

So, you take a deep breath and square your shoulders, before walking over to him and dropping down in front of him. His blue-green eyes - the good one at least- meet yours for just a split second, but then he’s looking away again. You dip the cloth into the bucket of water - after helping Fox and Connor you’d gone out to get some fresh water - and reach out for him, but just when you’re about to touch him, he twists away from you. 

„What’re you doing?“, he says, his voice low, distrust and irritation evident in his expression. 

„Helping you“, you answer, gesturing to the wet cloth in your hands. „Someone needs to clean up your wounds, Murphy.“ 

He scoffs. „Yeah, right.“ 

You frown. „Look Murphy, just let me help you, please.“ 

He doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t acknowledge your words with anything other than a raise of his eyebrows, but you decide to just take his lack of a verbal response as a good sign - or at least as a sign that he hopefully won’t refuse your help any further. 

You wet the cloth cloth again, before carefully reaching your hand out to him again. This time, he doesn’t twist away from you, so you gingerly touch his bloodied and scarred cheek with your fingertips, before carefully applying pressure with the cloth. 

All the while, Murphy looks at you, an undecipherable emotion in his blue-green eyes. The intensity of his gaze is distracting, and you swallow, trying to concentrate on cleaning up his wounds, trying to ignore the burning heat of his gaze. Though it’s impossible to really ignore it, with you two being so close that you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. 

Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - if you weren’t paying so much attention, you might’ve missed it, but as it is, you can see the bitter smirk that crosses his lips for an instant, before he bites down hard on his lips. 

Your eyes meet then. You swallow - you feel caught in his stare, unable to look at anything but him. 

„Why are you helping me?“, he asks you, his voice low and raspy and laced with something that almost sounds like desperation. „I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ 

„Because you need help“, you say, underlining your words by lightly trailing your fingertips over the deep cut on his left cheek. „And because I want to understand you.“ It’s true - you do want to understand him. You want to know how he came to be who he is today, why on earth he set fire to a room on the Ark. 

And fuck. This - this is dangerous. 

That bitter smirk crosses his face again. „Oh, so you want to know why I’m such a jerk, why I told the Camp’s location to the grounders, is that it?“ 

„You were tortured“, you say softly, but Murphy only scoffs. 

„Yeah, I’m afraid that doesn’t count as an excuse“, he says, voice full of bitterness. 

„Wha-“, you start to say, but then you remember that you saw Bellamy talking to Murphy earlier. And yes, that would certainly explain Murphy’s comments about his being tortured not being an excuse for giving up your location. 

You sigh frustratedly. Of course you know that Bellamy only wants to protect everyone at Camp, but you also know him well enough to imagine him making some kind of petty remark how he wouldn’t have caved under torture, wouldn’t have given up the Camp’s location. 

Which - fuck that. Anyone would eventually cave under torture, even someone as strong-willed and fierce as Bellamy. 

Murphy’s hiss of pain when you accidentally linger too long on one of his cuts with your fingertips draws you out of your thoughts. „Sorry“ you say, biting your lip. 

Murphy just shrugs and suddenly you’re hit with the desperate urge to help him, even though you’re not quite sure if there even is anything you can do that could make his situation better - apart from cleaning up his wounds, which you already are doing. 

„I’m sorry for what happened to you“, you say then, looking at him. „That’s not - I can only imagine what you went through and I really am sorry that that happened to you.“ 

Murphy looks at you, confusion and irritation evident in his expression. 

„And I know that won’t change anything-“

„No it won’t“, Murphy interrupts you, but this time, there’s no venom in his voice - just pain and resignation. „But it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before.“ 

Now it’s your turn to be confused. As you continue cleaning up his wounds, you mull over his words in your mind, trying to understand what he’s implying with his words. Does he mean that he was tortured on the Ark? But that can’t be right, can it? Yes, the Ark’s council is strict and unforgiving, but you haven’t heard about them torturing somebody. 

„Can you even see anything like that?“, Murphy says, interrupting your thought process, and suddenly he’s reaching out with one hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

You swallow, trying desperately not to show how much that one little touch affected you. But your heart is thundering so loudly in your chest that you’re convinced that he’s able to hear it. 

Especially once you can no longer pretend to re-inspect the cuts on his face yet again - you really need to take a look at the wounds on his chest. 

You clear your throat, trying to sound more confident than you feel. „I - uh - I need to take a look at the wounds on your chest, judging by all that blood I’ll probably need to do some stitches … uhm could you - uh - maybe take off your shirt?“ 

Kill me, you think, wanting to die from embarrassment. Of course, the first time you’ll see a boy without his shirt on - apart from some of the boys that walk around Camp shirtless in the morning and you don’t think that they actually count - has to be in this weird situation. 

As if reading your thoughts, Murphy just smirks, before taking off his shirt. But just when’s almost free of his shirt, he hisses, his face screwing up in pain. 

„Let me“, you say, helping him. 

For a moment, you just stare at each other breathlessly. 

Then, so quietly that you’re not quite sure whether you’ve imagined it, he says: „Thank you.“ 

You nod, clearing your throat. Not knowing what else to say, you start inspecting his chest, lightly trailing your fingertips over the various scratches and other wounds - trying not to be distracted by his muscles you can feel under your fingertips and his burning gaze. 

Murphy hisses again when your fingers brush over a particularly deep wound. „Sorry“, you murmur, leaning in even closer to get a better look at his wound. „This wound needs some stitches, I’m, uh, going to get a needle and some thread.“ 

You get up and walk over to where all the medical supplies are stored, thankful for this short moment away from Murphy, his intense stare and your confusing thoughts about him. 

„Here“, you say, after sitting down in front of Murphy again and hand him the bottle of moonshine you’ve grabbed as well, „you might want to drink this before I get started on those stitches.“

Murphy just nods, taking the bottle of moonshine from you and taking a long, big sip. „Do your worst“, he says, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

„Thanks for the vote of confidence“, you murmur, though you can understand why he’d be apprehensive about this. If it were you being in his situation, you’d rather be stitched up by a trained doctor as well, but since you teens are all on your own and Clarke, the only one of you with actual medical training is currently getting some well-deserved sleep, you’re his only option. Unlike Clarke, you haven’t received any actual medical training but you do know how to give stitches - in theory at least - so you hopefully won’t screw this up. 

Here goes nothing, you think, getting started on the stitches. 

Murphy bites down hard on his lips, though a slight hiss still escapes him. 

You cringe, shooting him an apologetic smile before concentrating on his wound again. „Sorry.“ 

Murphy doesn’t say anything in response, just nods. 

You’re both quiet as you continue with the stitches. Then, when you’re almost done, Murphy suddenly says: „I got real sick when I was thirteen … only made it because my dad stole some medicine for me ... course, he got floated for it …“ 

You swallow, meeting his gaze. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you this - you just know that the story he’s about to tell you most likely won’t have a happy ending. 

Murphy looks away from you then, laughing bitterly. „My mother … she was never the same after his death … She started drinking. Blamed me for his death. Told me everyday that I’m a worthless good-for-nothing that’s responsible for his father’s death. She died three years after him … and I just-“

He stops talking then, shaking his head. 

„Murphy, I-“, you start to say, though you stop as well, not quite knowing what it is that you actually want to say. Murphy suddenly opening up to you is so confusing and his story so heartbreaking, you’re not quite sure what the appropriate words for this situation are, let alone if there even are any. 

„Anyway“, Murphy now says, voice tinged with bitterness, „I just - I had all this pai- anger in me and I didn’t know how to handle it, how to let it out. So I set fire to those rooms, got arrested.“ 

„Murphy …“, you say, your voice hollow, your heart breaking for the broken, angry boy in front of. 

He laughs dryly, though the sound has a wheezing quality to it that instantly worries you. „You wanted to know, didn’t you? Wanted to understand why I became such a jerk. Well, there you have it.“

„I do“, you say, putting away the needle and thread and looking at Murphy, meeting his gaze. „I do understand you, Murphy. I still think you’re an opportunistic jerk, but I understand, I really do. I - I know that it’s not worth much, but I am sorry that this happened to you, it’s awful.“ 

Murphy just shrugs, not saying anything. 

But he’s still looking at you and now that you know what to look for, now that you finally understand him better, you see the pain in his expression.

Not just due to the torture. There’s so much more, pain that’s probably been building in him for years and that he turned into sharp, pointed hate and anger, because he didn’t know how to deal with all of his pain. 

You want to help him, though you don’t really know how and why. Yes, he is a rude jerk and at Camp he was also somewhat of a bully, but you think that that’s most likely due to him not knowing how to communicate in something that’s not just anger and aggression. But you also believe that there’s more to him - that he’s not just this lonely, broken, rude jerk that that’s probably just a facade he’s hiding behind. 

„I understand, Murphy“, you say again, still looking at the storm of emotions in his green-blue eyes. Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - he’s listening to you and something in his gaze tells you that he believes your words, believes you. „I truly do. But there’s more to life than just pain, anger and aggression.“ 

With that, you reach out a hand, softly grasping one of his hands with yours. You’re not quite sure why you’re doing it, you just know that you want to be there for Murphy, that you want to help him - and that you want him to understand that you truly mean your words. 

Murphy’s arm jerks, as if he wants to rip his hand out of your grasp, but then he grasps your hand, squeezing it lightly. He reaches up with his other hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

Just like before, your breath hitches. But this - this is different than before. This time, there’s no venom in Murphy’s gaze, no quiet challenge, no pent-up anger. Just curiosity and something softer that you can’t quite describe. 

„I still don’t really get why you’re helping me“, Murphy says, leaning even closer to you. You’re so close that you could count the lashes on his good eye. You feel his breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver in anticipation. 

„But I’m glad that I let you.“ With that, he leans in even closer, searching your eyes and whatever he sees in them, must convince him. He presses his lips to yours and you’re so overwhelmed that you don’t know how to react. But just when you feel Murphy starting to pull away, you kiss him back, bringing your free hand up to his neck. 

You feel him smirk into the kiss and if you weren’t currently kissing him, you’d definitely roll your eyes at him. As it is, you continue kissing him, though you give his hand a squeeze that’s probably a bit too harsh. 

Murphy just smirks again, deepening the kiss and tangling his hand in your hair. You can feel your heart start to beat faster and there’s a curious sensation in your stomach that feels like those butterflies that you’ve read about in books. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of Murphy.

Kissing Murphy feels good, though his lips are chapped and dry and he hisses in pain when you overeagerly lean a little too much against him. But still - kissing Murphy feels good. 

And even though you’re still confused and you know that one conversation won’t suddenly make him sunshine personified - you like his dry sarcasm way too much for that - you also know that you want more. You want to get to know Murphy, really get to know him, you want to be there for him. And if there are more occasions to kiss him along the way of getting to know him and helping him, then you certainly won’t complain about that. 

Murphy gives you one last, bruising kiss, before breaking the kiss, breathlessly leaning his forehead against yours. 

„I - Murphy - what …“, you stammer, still too wound up from the kiss. 

Murphy smirks. „That was thank you.“ 

You can’t help but roll your eyes. „I see“, you say dryly. 

„For stitching me up … and for not giving up on me“, Murphy adds, his voice serious again. 

You smile softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his eye. „I’ll be sure to stick around then.“ 

Murphy grins, though there’s a vulnerability to it now that wasn’t there before. „Doesn’t sound too bad …“ 

„Yeah, it doesn’t“, you agree, before leaning up to kiss him again. 

You feel him smiling into the kiss, causing you to smile as well. 

Yes, the road ahead is not going to be easy - this is John Murphy, resident sarcastic, rude asshole, after all - but you’re not afraid to walk it with Murphy. 

[lilybug-02]

me vibing to the absolute, most broad spectrum of music humanity can conjure

[bluesadansey]

unstoppable force (Adam’s canonical teacher kink) meets immovable object (Gansey being a professor’s soul in a teenagers body).

[fandom-trash-goblin]

It's Crazy About ORV hours (once more)

listen i'm actually collecting this stuff now, and i've started using polls because wow some of them are spot on. cheers to me. dedicated to @chocolatemalt (my darling you've been summoned) and @yeetsintotheabyss (hi! it's indeed our orv audience)

link to part 1, part 2, part 3 and a webweave i made out of story snippets that is yoo joonghyuk centric

also, poll images 1,2, poll image 3, poll image 4,5, poll image 6,7