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luvwanda · 6 days

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Dog’s Favorite Person

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • [A/N: Not that far into the series, canon bits is only what I know] • Everybody probably thinks Daryl is Dog’s favorite, but nah. It ain’t • SFW/NSFW/ANGST • TW: Pregnancy & Birth / Injuries / Scars

Dogs are great judge of character, or was that horses? Who cares Dog is an excellent judge of character. At least that’s what people have said since he’s Daryl’s best friend.

Dog loves the kids, RJ and Judith. He loves tracking down everything with his best friend. And especially…

Y/N.

Dog knew by the late returns to the cabin in the woods from trips to Alexandria, without him, that Daryl was seeing somebody. He’d come home not smelling like the usual forest or walker guts, he’d have some floral scent to him that was nothing like the wildflowers Judith would stick in his fur when he was allowed to join him on these trips.

“Whatcha sniffing for?” Daryl asks Dog who was busy doing his business trying to track this mystery smell he’s been smelling for a while now. He perks up when his owner whistled indicating the gate was opening revealing a happy Judith who heard of his return.

“Hi Uncle Daryl! Finally you bring Dog” Judith smiles instantly giving the pup face squishes. “Such a good boy”

“He’s on a mission, Jude” Daryl laughs referring to what Dog was doing before the gates opened. “Caught a scent and ain’t droppin’”

“Hmm…I think I know” Judith smiles mischievously quickly turning on her heel and started running. “Come on Dog! I know who you’re looking for!”

Shit Daryl starts up his bike driving in and catching up to the two. He wraps his arm around Judith making her scream out giggles as Dog picked up the scent again and started scanning his surroundings before wandering off.

As Daryl was busy keeping Judith away from Dog finding out who he was going to introduce him to. Dog had already found himself searching for this person and started to scratch at the infirmary door in Alexandria.

“Too consistent to be a threat right?”

“Right. Besides I know who it is” Siddiq laughs walking over to the door. “You’re going to love this Y/N”

“I’m sure I will” Y/N laughs taking a piece of the prepared tape strip to secure her bandages in place on her arm. “I swear Siddiq…if it’s another raccoon that got into the crawl space I’m going to be so pissed Daryl isn’t here yet” she makes her way to the front of the infirmary finding Siddiq letting in a dog, Daryl’s dog into the building.

“Normally he’s attached to Daryl. But it seems Dog just wandered over here…maybe he’s on some mission” Siddiq shrugs watching Y/N kneel down to the floor holding her uninjured hand to Dog as he started sniffing her. “Ha! No I understand completely now”

“And what is that, Siddiq?” Y/N smiles watching Dog’s tail go from still to wagging excitedly. He found the scent he’s been looking for and it came from her. “Look at this happy boy!”

“Dog found exactly who he’s looking for” Siddiq smiles watching Dog inch closer to Y/N with causation as she hesitantly rests her hand behind his ears gently scratching. “Stay right there I have to document this for the man himself. He’s missing out on his dog loving his girlfriend”

“Siddiq!” She yells through a heated complexion as Dog stop caring in the moment and started to give her kisses. “Okay you are super cute and I don’t even have your gift here!”

Y/N knew Daryl was coming with his dog and going to introduce the two because that relationship meant the world to him. But Dog wanted to find out for himself where the new scent on his best friend came from. The two suddenly flinched to the Polaroid flash making Y/N rise to her feet and Dog immediately get closer to her looking up.

“I should probably go find Daryl” Y/N smiles petting Dog on her way to grab her things.

“Don’t get your bandages wet, or at least try not to” Siddiq smiles handing off the Polaroid one Y/N got her sweater on along with her backpack. “I’ll also cover your shift later so…you can yknow” he smirks holding up the jar of condoms they keep in the infirmary as Y/N elbows him on her way out with Dog.

But she immediately came back in and took a few from a now laughing Siddiq.

“Have fun!” He smiles as she continues to glare at him on her way out.

The more Daryl whistled. The more frustrated he got when Dog didn’t come running. Now Dog’s mission was the united the two hence why he’s staying with Y/N until he picks up both hers and Daryl’s scent on Daryl. He was starting to get annoyed not finding either of them but caught onto the barking in his direction making him look up and lock eyes with his other half.

“Damn dog got to yea before I could” Daryl grumbles a bit disappointed but he softens to the Polaroid taken back at the infirmary that she handed to him. “Mmm…fine. This’ll do”

“Can’t believe this good boy has been protecting you all this time. Must be a pretty neat cabin in the woods. He’s barley got any leaves on him” Y/N continues to smile as she felt Daryl gently take a hold of her injured arm while the other happily continues to pet Dog.

“What’d you do to yourself?”

“Just an incident when on a run earlier. Had to prepare for my favorite person to visit, and his best friend as well” Y/N always kept a smile on her face, even when the bad happened. He both loves and hates that about her because she could be dying and still be smiling, but that would never happen as long as he’s around. “Just a few stitches, love. Now come on I gotta show you what I got Dog” she smiles taking his hand into hers as the two started walking to her home with Dog trotting behind.

Daryl stood confused in the living room to what Y/N was showing him. But thankfully Dog got it and immediately went to lay on the bed she found for him on her last run.

“A dog bed?”

“Yeah! So he has a spot here when both of you come over” Y/N smiles watching Dog get comfy with that goofy smile dogs have which shot Daryl in the heart at how thoughtful his girl was toward his dog.

“You didn’t get hurt for my dog did yea?”

“Okay I did get the bed on that run, but that was the easy part. Tripping over a legless walker and into a small ditch? Was not planned, alright?” Y/N laughs to her misfortune as she quickly ran into the kitchen while Daryl knelt by Dog petting him behind the ears.

“She’s a keeper, right?” Daryl states only to smile when Dog licked him. “I’ll take that as a yes”

Now every time Daryl visits, so does Dog. Every night he goes back to his comfortable dog bed to find a new toy. The dog doesn’t have many toys and Daryl doesn’t know where he’d find dog toys like that in the apocalypse. But Y/N makes them. She makes them! and even if Dog isn’t an always energetic puppy like he used to be, he still found himself playing with the toys made just for him.

Judith giggles as she plays tug of war with Dog and a few other Alexandria kids. Daryl watches from the porch seeing his dog get some normalcy from the hell outside the walls and he swore that if he didn’t feed him, Dog would prefer Y/N over him.

“Aren’t they adorable?”

Daryl turns around finding his love joining him as he grumbles out a ‘yes’. Y/N scooted herself into him resting her head against his shoulder feeling him relax.

“You tryin’ take my dog?”

“No?”

“Then why are yea spoiling him more than me—-Fuck. Ignore that” Daryl didn’t mean to be so open as Y/N looked at him with a bit of shock and a smile watching him scramble with his wording trying to get her to forget what he just said. But how could she forget that her boyfriend was now jealous of Dog. “Y/N, please forget it”

“Mmm…” She returns to leaning up against him. “Nope!” She smiles kissing his shoulder before leaning up to his ear. “You do realize the kids and Dog are all distracted…leaving the house to ourselves?”

Without a second thought, Daryl quickly shot up picking up Y/N like it was nothing and carrying her giggling self inside the house and upstairs.

The two were simply enjoying the other’s company. Just the two of them…breaking Y/N’s bed by how rough Daryl was being. He didn’t care if his grip on her thighs and hips were going to leave bruises by the time they were done. He wanted her the second his window was open and said window was about to slam shut on his di—-

Ruff!

Shit. Daryl groans slowing his thrusts watching his girl already three in, trembling beneath him as she started to catch her breath while he listens for a moment.

Ruff!

“D-Dog?” Y/N whines feeling Daryl adjust and loosen his grip on her. “Gotta…be more quiet”

“I should be tellin’ you that” Daryl whispers smirking as he hopes by not making her scream or rocking the bed frame. He returns his lips onto hers enjoying just the feeling of being inside of her warm embrace.

But even more interruptions just had to happen…

“Y/N? Can I get your help with something…” Judith calls from the other side of the door as the reason Dog was barking was for them to know it wasn’t for him. But part of it was.

Y/N groans throwing her head back as Daryl sighs in defeat pressing a kiss to her shoulder before pulling out. He falls to the side of the bed watching Y/N sit up to slip on his shirt which was only going to rile him up later. She rises to her feet too quickly and let the shaking take her back down resulting in her glaring to the laughing wild man beside her.

“Shut up” She couldn’t help the smile on her face as she took it slow the next time, swiftly getting her pants on while Daryl covered himself completely in her sheets.

Judith lights up when Y/N finally came out and the little one immediately took her attention dragging her downstairs. As for Dog, he came running into the bedroom jumping onto the bed and laying beside Daryl.

“What? You jealous or somethin’” Daryl scoffs seeing Dog roll onto his side on Y/N’s side of the bed. “Well quit it. I’m allowed to have my time with my girl…”

“So…who’s the jealous one?”

Daryl quickly shot to the door seeing Y/N’s smirk only for him to grab her pillow tossing it at her. Before laying back down covering his face with his own pillow to avoid her smug look. The sound of the door closing made him tense slightly but relax instantly feeling soft hands rest on his chest and the weights shift onto him. He lifted the pillow seeing his girl on top of him smiling.

“Usually takes time kicking Dog out…”

“He just likes me more” Y/N teases only for her to roar out a laugh when Daryl flipped the two on the bed getting back to business.

Little did they know Dog waited outside the door the entire night.

Or more so Dog dragged his dog bed close enough to the door and stayed there all night. Happily receiving pets from Y/N when she woke in the morning to make them all breakfast.

“Ain’t no way”

“Daryl, it’s not even your say”

“Like hell it is. Why the hell are you going out on your own?!”

“Cuz Siddiq is sick and he usually goes on these runs with me. I’ve got my list, my weapons, and my truck. I think I’ll be fine” Y/N knew that wasn’t going to convince Daryl in any fucking way and he started to go on about how he could go with her only for her to turn that down. “It’s safer than what it used to be out there”

“From fucking asshats with god complexes. There’s still walkers and the occasional idiot. I’m not having you risk your life”

“Fine. Then…” Y/N thought for a bit before looking down to the happy dog. “I’ll take Dog. Would that ease your anxiety?”

Daryl scoffs. “You’d rather take Dog than have me come with yeah?” He stresses every time he’d come to Alexandria finding out Y/N went on a run by herself. Sometimes he’d go out to get her, other times he’d wait impatiently. She’s just looking for a few things for the infirmary and pantry. The usual. She’ll…be fine. “Mm. You ain’t back in three days, I’m coming for yea”

“Deal! Hell Dog would probably go back if something happened anyway” Y/N states picking up her bags.

“Take my bike?”

“No! My truck will do the job and carry a lot more”

He’s just trying to get more of him to be with her. Since he knows it’s reliable. But he’s gotta trust her….

At least Dog is going.

Right?

“You like the window open huh bud?” Y/N smiles glancing over to a happy Dog hanging out the window with his tongue out. “Can’t get this on a bike” she laughs.

The drive was a long one and Dog instantly knew Y/N wasn’t just stopping by a town or two to scavenge it. The girl found a good spot to hunt in…what do you think got Daryl head over heels for her anyway? But she didn’t tell him that’s one of the main reasons she went out.

“Okay, come here” Y/N gestures Dog over and stopped him before he got too close to the trap. “See this? This you don’t step on. Alright? Cuz watch” she tosses a decent size rock to tripper the bear trap shut. “It’ll hurt you and then Daryl would kill me.”

Y/N set up a few more traps while also pushing Dog out of the way so he knows where not to step. He would bark for her whenever a walker got close, accidentally triggered a trap, or she actually caught something.

When nightfall came around, Y/N made sure her findings were safe in the truck tying down the tarp in case any winds pick up when they least expect it. Then finally setting up a small camp with the small fire and cans lining around them in case of walkers.

“Come here buddy” Y/N smiles patting her lap for Dog to trot over laying on her before she covers both of them in her blanket.

The two sat there for a while enjoying the warmth in the cool spring. She took a deep breath trying to clear her head as Dog instantly caught onto the anxiety radiating her. He licked her face for her attention, receiving pets in return but still looking at him lovingly.

“Daryl asked me to move in with you two…wanted to think about it. Alone out here…” Y/N sighs. “I’m gonna say yes because I want to take this step. I just. Am afraid…he’ll get tired of me or you’ll feel replaced. I don’t want anything negative to happen. I don’t even mind a cabin in the woods, I could always visit Alexandria to see the kids, see our friends every now and then…I just. Really don’t want to be a burden on either of you” she frowns feeling her tear up but Dog quickly licks her tears away making that smile of hers return. “As long as I’ve gotcha, I shouldn’t have to worry huh?”

If Dog could talk, he’d be better at reassuring her anxieties.

But he does the best he could in any moment…

Like this one.

Dog watches Y/N carry the squirrels they caught in their traps back to her truck. He kept close like she instructed even when she decided to be risky checking out this creek after dropping off everything. She hesitantly slid down the small slope to the water only to trip forward and land into the creek.

“I’m good. I’m good” Y/N reassures the panicked malinois listening to him rapidly sniffing her. “Well this is one way of getting cleaned up” she slowly got back up brushing off some of the mud before starting to follow the creek.

Now the small cliff was not expected when Y/N was stabbing into the side of a walker’s head. Letting gravity take them both down. Dog quickly ran to the edge of the cliff once hearing the splash. He waited. He waited for once Y/N rose to the surface for him to get a running start and jump into the water. As Y/N struggles to swim out to the shore, Dog suddenly grabs the back of her shirt pulling her as he paddles.

“You…got some..secrets Dog” Y/N groans rolling onto her back as one hand rests on her chest feeling her breath to reassure her. But the other hurt to move. Her whole right arm hurt as much as the rest of her body from slamming into the water. The bruising could’ve meant something more was happening.

Dog returned to grabbing Y/N’s collar when noticing her trying to push her up onto the surface more so half of her wasn’t in the water anymore. He did his best pulling her and pulled away when she winced, finally fully out of the water. The poor dog started whining afraid for his person and didn’t appreciate the pets Y/N gave with her semi uninjured hand.

“Get Daryl…you understand? Please Dog. You’re smart…might’ve not understood my rant the other night but please…understand that much…get Daryl” The panic in her shaking voice triggered him to run as fast as he could.

Dog was probably the smartest dog that Y/N has ever met and in her life before the apocalypse where her friends would have small dogs as accessories and she was the outlier with a cat, he was the smartest out of them all.

Knowing to avoid the traps they didn’t collect, run to the truck and follow the tracks it left all the way to where he was able to pick up another scent he’s used to, and run to Alexandria’s gates immediately starting bark at the watch tower that thankfully Maggie took a shift on.

“Somebody get Daryl NOW!”

Not even a second thought crosses his mind as Daryl found himself speeding on his bike to catch up to Dog running surprisingly faster than him. For an old dog he’s gonna get tired but for this, it was worth it.

When Dog swerved into the forest, Daryl quickly got off his bike after kicking the stand down and started to run as fast as he could. He took down a walker along the way and before he could slide off the cliff like Y/N, Dog quickly lunged at him pushing Daryl into the dirt. He starts the lead the way down as Daryl did his best not to fight the urge to just jump and swim over once he saw his girl just off the shoreline.

“D-Dog?” Y/N winces trying to move as everything started to hurt more the longer she was stuck there. She looks up to spot the familiar rage full worried look on Dixon’s face. “Hey…gravity wasn’t…like in my favor”

“Shut the fuck up” Daryl couldn’t think of anything else to say as he was mad that this happened and could’ve been avoided if they went out together. But the worry got the best of him and he couldn’t stay mad given her current state. “Gotta get back to Siddiq” he frowns not liking her pain come out in short whines for him to stop moving her. But both knew he had to get her out of there.

“He’s…sick, Dar”

“And I don’t care. Son of a bitch was doing inventory on your day 2 out here. He’ll be fucking well enough”

Y/N didn’t say anything more sensing his anxiety get the best of him. She leaned against him as he brought her close the faster he ran to her truck.

“Motherfucker” Daryl frowns every bump they ran into hearing Y/N wince to the movement. “Sorry. I’m sorry” he had her lay in his lap on the drive over while the rest of her laid out in the car. Leaving Dog in the bed of the truck watching how fast the scenery went by.

“‘M not dying”

“Yeah. That’s right”

“Very sleepy tho…” Y/N sighs feeling the hand that’s keeping her in his lap shift to make her open her eyes more. “Don’t mean…I’m dying”

“I won’t forgive yea if you died” He states the second they got close to the gates as Dog started to howl to get the gate keepers’ attention.

Maggie being the one to open the gate spotted the distress in Daryl’s face as she quickly pulled out her radio and called for Siddiq letting him drive through to where he needed to be.

Siddiq came out of the infirmary returning his walkie to his belt spotting the truck come to a halt.

“What happened?”

“I don’t entirely know, Sid. Just—“

“Alright alright. She’ll explain when we’ve taken care of her.” Siddiq reassures opening the door to see the state Y/N was in. “Shit. I’ll take her upper half and once you’re out you’ll carry the lower inside”

Daryl didn’t say a word once Y/N was in the infirmary. Not to Siddiq. Not to Maggie when she came to check on things. Not even Judith when she brought Dog in. Which was a mistake that lead him to speak up.

“He won’t do anything he’s not supposed to”

“Can’t come in”

“But he cares about her as much as I do”

“She fragile right now. I’m not lettin’—-Shit” Daryl gave Dog too much of a window to slip right past him and run straight for Y/N’s bed.

Her left arm was dislocated and her wrist might as well be broken. Siddiq popped it back into place and put a splint on the wrist before putting it all in a sling that they had to strap onto her to keep it from moving. Just until the dislocation healed. But her body was bruised and stressed from the impact that she still had a harder time taking a deep breath. Her minor cuts and scratches were either bandaged or disinfected.

Her current state, drove Daryl mad when Dog thought it was smart to jump into the bed with her. He managed to avoid her body entirely and lay beside her on the small full size bed. None of them expecting Y/N to wake soon, woke to the sudden movement eyeing Dog negatively at first because of the pain but softened seeing who it was. She didn’t speak as she uses her not entirely injured hand to pet the dog reassuring to him that she was okay. Then the look on Daryl’s face from the end of them room broke down when he saw that she was awake and okay…

“Yer never going out again alone, ‘ight? Can’t lose yea” Daryl frowns reaching the side of the bed dropping to his knees. “I’ve lost enough. Scared the fuck outta me when he came back without yea”

Y/N was too tired to say anything as she reaches for him resting her hand on his cheek. Giving him that reassuring look of hers through tears of pain and worry because she made him worry.

“I’m never leaving yer side, alright?” He frowns feeling the tears spill over as Y/N gently takes care of the ones that did while nodding.

Recovery was a bitch. Especially given the whole “I’m never leaving your side” was interrupted by dire need of some to go out on runs. Daryl unfortunately getting roped into it. But one evening coming back from a run scared the daylights out of him only seeing Y/N’s lower half on the floor from the entry way. He quickly stepped in further finding Y/N laying on the floor with Dog laying on her. Which he shouldn’t be doing given her injury she’s still recovering from.

“Did you fall?”

“No”

“Did Dog push yea?”

“Doesn’t that get the same answer from “did you fall?” because that would be a way of falling over”

“Don’t be a smartass” Daryl makes his way over finding a pillow propped up under her head. “Why are yea on the floor?” He knelt beside her watching her yawn given the time of night it was.

“You’ve spoiled me Dixon” She states hearing him scoff confused to what she’s getting at. “Spoiled me with not only a dog that won’t leave me alone meaning he barks every time I wince in pain, but hell I can’t sleep in the bed alone. So I came down here waiting for you. Could’ve gone on the couch but the way I lay on it hurts my shoulder so…floor it is”

“Yer in pain?” Of course that’s his takeaway but given the smile on his face after she said all that, made it clear to Y/N that he understood everything. “Hard to sleep without yea too yknow. ‘speically since the usual runners are snorers. Miss how scary quiet you are at night”

“Now that just freaks me out. Please just shake me if I scare you in the night and not like have me wake up to you staring into my soul”

“Maybe both” Daryl laughs a bit before helping Y/N stand to her feet as Dog got off of her of course only for him to keep super close. “Likes yea more than me”

“Good! I’m good company”

“And I ain’t?”

“You are. But Dog needs to pick a favorite yknow” Y/N smiles watching her man roll his eyes soon kissing that smile off her face temporarily before scooping her up in his arms bridal style. “You don’t have—-“

“Shut up. I get to carry yea up all I want” Daryl states making his way upstairs to their bedroom with a happy Dog trailing behind.

“Okay…but don’t hurt yourself, old man” She teased kissing his cheek when he growled to that old man comment.

Finally, Y/N moved in with Daryl. They still visit Alexandria and other outposts to help around or see their friends, and most importantly for Dog to get lots of pets from everybody to come by. One trip without Daryl and Dog, concerned Michonne when Y/N drove through the gates but not only did she promise to help Siddiq transport infirmary supplies through outposts but—

“Does Daryl know?”

“Nope” Y/N laughs anxiously sinking into Michonne’s couch listening to her kids outside. “He’s great with them. But…”

“Oh there shouldn’t be a but when we both know that Daryl would make a great dad” Michonne smiles joining her friend beside her resting her hand on her thigh. “What’s the fear, Y/N? You saw the greatness that comes out of that man after all the sorrow he endured. You are his world. He does not shut up about you to anybody who would listen. It’s also very clear that his dog likes you a lot. Dog also loves kids if you care about his thoughts as well” she smiles making Y/N laugh. “But Y/N…there’s…nothing that’s not in the new and old normal to worry about. You lean on each other. You have us. Alexandria. Hilltop. Anyone of us. But I know for a fact that he won’t leave unless it was to ensure his family’s safety…”

“He’s still going to freak out…”

“Of course! He’s going to be a dad, who didn’t freak to that news?”

The supply runs was a week long given all the stops the two had to make and Y/N having to drop off Siddiq. He didn’t let her leave without a bit of the surplus they have of prenatal vitamins given Michonne did tell him about it, but he was also the one Y/N went to first about it. Given the two have the most medical expertise and she needed a second opinion.

To her surprise returning home…home that will always bring a smile to her face. Y/N opened the door to the few candles lit and Dog trying to scratch off a bow. Dog stopped scratching only to start happy wiggling when Y/N entered fully kneeling to his level to receive much needed kisses.

“I missed you too buddy” Y/N smiles slowly rising when Daryl enters the main room, much to her surprise, Dog isn’t the only one dressed nicely. “Hey love…what’s the special occasion?” She continues to have that loving smile on her face running her fingers against his famous vest accompanied with his less torn black button down and not so ripped pants.

“You bein’ home” What a charmer. Y/N smiles wrapping her arms around his neck as he snaked his around her waist bringing her close. “Missed yea. Visited Alexandria once to see if I could catch yea one time, but ‘Chonne said I had just missed yea” he smiles kissing her forehead then the tip of her nose then finally a sweet one of her lips.

“Mmm. Next time you just gotta come”

“Might. Don’t like leaving your side. Don’t ever wanna ever again”

“Daryl Dixon, is that a promise?”

“It is, and uh. Shit hold on” Daryl parts from Y/N for a moment to pat his chest for Dog to jump on him. “You were supposed to find it, but I think he scratched it off”

Y/N tilts her head confused watching Daryl take the bow off of Dog as the two quickly turn to the light thud on the floor. Daryl gently pushes Dog off as he sniffs whatever fell while he picked it up. She immediately froze watching the guy struggle to keep his serious face when getting down on one knee and the Mal trying to lick his face. Y/N knew what was happening and couldn’t help the tears to form as she smiles waiting for him to finally say.

“I want you by my side for the rest of my life. I don’t need no wedding nah nothing. Nothing fancy. All I need is you as my girl. My wife” and with that he held up the subtle silver band he had Eugene help him make as she drops to her knees taking his face into her hands making sure he watches her say.

“I’m yours” Y/N smiles watching him not hesitate to put the ring on her finger before engulfing her in his bear hug of an embrace. Making her laugh and the next thing to come out of her just right. “Don’t squeeze me too tight. I am carrying your kid after all” now Daryl was about to start crying, more than from the first big thing and only having more with the next.

“A baby? My baby?” He questions knowing damn well it’s his, listening to her confirm it as he tried not to squeeze her as tight the second time around. Holding her protectively this time and thinking back to the times he’s been told by their friends or assumed by strangers that he was the father to the kids he’s helped raised in this hell. But hey, now he can say this one’s his blood.

Dog watches the two cry to all the news and couldn’t help himself, starting to lick away some of their tears making Y/N laugh and Daryl grumble a bit fighting back his laugh.

They were going to be just fine

As the fall started to roll in, Dog quickly perked up from his spot on the couch when he thought he heard something that wasn’t the usual heavy boots or quick pacing that Y/N does occasionally. He was about to start barking when he watched the door start to open. And as much as the two appreciate his protectiveness, Daryl really thought he was gonna meet his maker of Dog didn’t realize it was him coming in.

“You spooked him”

“If I gotta fight my own dog one day because he’s hogging my kid, I will” Daryl scoffs setting his crossbow down by the door before joining the two at the couch sitting on the ground facing inward. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that my husband is back” Y/N smiles running her fingers through his hair as her other hand gently rubs circles on her belly only for Dog to nip at her again.

“Dog!” Daryl tried to move the protective Mal away from his wife’s pregnant belly when he was suddenly nipped at as well. “What’s gotten into you?!”

“Maybe the walkers we dealt with earlier. It was just two and tired me out instantly…he’s just as worried as you’re starting to become”

“Walkers triggered the line? And you handled it? Should’ve waited. They wouldn’t have gotten in. You don’t have to risk yourself, sunshine. I—“ Daryl stops himself feeling his face heat up seeing that satisfied look on her face. “What? Goddamn it woman, am I not allowed to worry about my wife and unborn child when there’s still those undead fuckers around and now my dog won’t even let me touch yea?”

“You’re allowed. It was handled, love. We’re perfectly okay and if it’ll make you feel any better you can check me out. Just gotta get your dog away long enough for you to do so” Y/N laughs as Daryl was already trying to get Dog off the couch but all he did was readjust so his head laid on her belly. “Wait wait wait. He’ll move just wait” she stops Daryl’s movements to watch Dog suddenly spring up confused on what happened as he brought his whole body up and sniffed around. His wife’s laughter filled the room when Daryl was just as confused before taking the opportunity to move Dog off the couch and replacing him with himself in his previous spot.

“What got him so freaked like that?” Daryl asks letting Y/N adjust to finally sit up after laying down for a while. She took his hand gently resting it on her belly more toward her ribs and that’s when he felt it. His own little ass kicker definitely had a powerful kick to them. “Holy shit”

Daryl was already obsessed with his unborn kid and feeling them kick only confirmed how he was going to show this kid everything he knows the second they’re able to keep it to memory.

His over protectiveness also grew since that moment that he convinced Y/N to go to Alexandria early so they wouldn’t have to drive in a hurry when she went into labor.

Little did he expect at eight and a half months she would pop.

“I should go in there”

“You should”

“But I might pass out.”

“You’ve seen ripped up corpses”

“Right I should go in” Daryl walked over to the door feeling his anxiety get the best of him again. “But what if I would pass out? Never seen this before.”

“It’s a worthy experience I think. But that’s also coming from me and I don’t ever want to see life rip it’s way out of somebody” Aaron states watching the horror grow on Daryl’s face. “Okay yeah not helpful. But hey I’m serious. You don’t want to miss this and she’ll need yea every step of the way”

“Yeah…yeah, she does. Uhm. Keep Dog out” He states entering the room as Aaron gave him a thumbs up before sitting down and keeping Dog with him.

The next few hours were hell. Screaming, crying in pain, a bit of anxiety here and there from both parents, but hey it was all worth it…

Aaron was now not the only one in the “waiting room” that was living room of Y/N’s old house in Alexandria. Michonne was now the one sitting with Dog as her kids and Maggie’s pet the dog to keep him calm while they wait. Maggie sat with her talking about other things as they waited. Gabriel came in after getting a few things sorted so he could meet the new Dixon as he was accompanied by Carol who just got back to the community.

The small group stopped their conversations when the door was pushed open showing just the back of Daryl before next was the crying mess the man became with the little bundle of joy laying comfortably in his embrace.

“Falon Dixon…my daughter” Daryl continued to sob as the group surrounded him to see the little baby snuggling into her dad giving off soft coos.

Once everyone got to see the little baby, Daryl knelt to the floor for the kids to see the little one but most importantly for Dog to hesitantly come over. Flinching when the baby gave out a small cry but relaxed when he drew closer seeing the baby wasn’t going to hurt anybody. Obviously. He sniffed her tiny hand and his nose was immediately grabbed.

Yeah…Dog found his favorite person

#karla's favs 🫀#daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon

1K notes · View notes

luvwanda · 21 days

Text

Ruining You

Ser Harwin Strong x Female Reader

Summary: You’re Viserys’ eldest daughter, the blood of the dragon running thick. You have a temper, and it seems Harwin is the only one brave enough to tame it despite your mutual loathing

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, swearing and depictions of violence

A/N: Holy shit. This was originally 13k words but in the last thousand the plot went a bit haywire and the writing was bleh so I deleted that and just fixed a few things to make it where it is now. I sincerely apologise if this isn’t what you thought when I originally posted the idea, it did kind of run away on me but at the same time, I lowkey love it. Enjoy, this 12k fic :)

Rage boils deep within your veins, the bubbles extremely close to spilling over. Your father always said you and your sister Rhaenyra share the blood of the dragon, especially the hot temperament, though he underestimated just how ferocious you can get, even as a child.

You feel every emotion with such a raw intensity that sometimes you don't know what to do, or how to deal with it and it explodes, consuming you whole and turning you into someone entirely different. Your alter ego, as your uncle Daemon calls it.

Much like now, wildfire blazing within your eyes, steam simmering out of your ears and blood spilling into your mouth from grinding your teeth so hard. It takes every ounce of strength to not erupt, destroy anything in your path and embarrass your father further.

"Are you even listening to me?!" Viserys yells from the throne, his voice echoing down the great hall for all to hear.

No, you're not listening to him, too busy trying to direct your anger elsewhere, direct it at someone else. Pain flares up your arms, wrapping around like a snake as your nails dig into your palms.

Viserys calls your name and almost stumbles back in response to your attention flickering up to him. "Is that all, your grace?" You grit.

The small group of occupants cease breathing. Viserys sighs exasperatedly, gesturing for your dismissal. Without hesitation you spin on your heel, marching your way out of the hall and toward the fastest exit out of the Keep, away from prying eyes.

Servants, lords and ladies all evacuate the premises, steering clear of your path of destruction as you make your way toward the back of the gardens, your secret area you call it. Your dress swishes around your ankles, your heeled boots clipping the ground.

You barely make it in time, rounding the large tree and searching for your hidden blade. The steel glints under the sunlight, ringing as it slashes through the air and makes contact with the already-exposed bark. Bits fly everywhere with each swing, your bottled-up rage slowly leaking out.

You don't hear the person approach, nor do you feel the eyes watching you intently, silent and observing. To say the knight is used to your outbursts is an understatement. You never fail to remind him of who you're descendant from, the unyielding anger and raw emotions of a Targaryen.

A dragon.

"Fuck!" You scream angrily, tears pricking the corner of your eyes and your knees buckling. You hit the earth harshly, staining your dress, not that you care at this moment.

The sword falls from your grip, landing amongst the dirt.

"I half expected you to climb atop your dragon and burn King's Landing to the ground," the knight muses from behind you, making himself known and slowly approaching you like a rabid animal.

You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing him away and hoping to awaken from this horrible nightmare. You hear the debris snap under his weight with each step closer, reigniting your hatred.

With precision, despite the dress, you come to your feet and whirl around, your hand having grasped your blade in the process. "And you best believe I'd burn you first, you fucking snitch." You seethe, pointing the end toward him.

"Princess-" he starts, daring to place his foot down and inch himself closer.

"Unless you want to be choking on your blood Ser Harwin," you address him. "I'd stand down and leave me be."

Harwin swallows thickly, an inkling of fear rolling down his spine. "It wasn't me," he starts off carefully, deciding to keep his distance. "I never told anyone, certainly not your father or mine. But to be truthful, I'm glad someone else did."

"Liar," you approach him with purpose, resting the point of the blade on his knitted tunic. "You have the most to gain by staying on his good side, being rewarded with his favour; Commander of the Gold Cloaks." He holds your eye, his fingers twitching. "My uncle is bound to screw up eventually and when that happens, you'll slide right into his position. All you heirs are the same."

"Princess," he tries again.

"Breakbones."

His jaw flexes. You've struck a nerve, a nerve you love to hit. "Don't," he warns.

"Go guard your honourable princess, and leave me alone. I'm in no tolerable mood." You indicate your younger sister, Rhaenyra.

Harwin breathes steadily through his nose, ignoring the fact that you're trying to get under his skin, to piss him off like you are. It's almost routine by now, especially when you're this riled up.

"And so you plan to torture the tree? With that flimsy sword, which by the way, will shatter the moment it meets real steel."

You close your eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling harshly. Harwin makes a split-second decision, one that he's sure will land him as food for your dragon. He knocks your sword away, the unexpected force causing you to stumble back and blink up at him.

"Never take your eyes off your opponent."

Confusion begins to overlap your previous state, your fingers twisting for a better grip on the handle of your sword that now is by your side. "What are you-"

"Who taught you to wield a sword?" You don't answer. Harwin speaks your name, a different kind of fire burning within you. "Who taught you?" He presses, his tone firm, as though he talks to a child.

"Ser Criston Cole."

"Ser Criston Cole," he drawls, almost in disbelief. "Of fucking course." He mumbles to himself. His own kind of anger sparks, his skin crawling at the thought of the two of you alone. "And let me guess, you begged and pleaded with him to teach you how to defend yourself because you know that going outside the Red Keep is a stupid fucking idea."

He should slap himself for speaking so indirectly, informally to you, his princess. Yet, he couldn't stop the words from spilling out.

During your nights, you spend them down in Flea Bottom, or anywhere that's not the Red Keep, spreading your wings and soaring. You hate being holed up, being monitored and being expected to carry out duties you never asked for, never wanted. Even as a child, you wished you of been born to a low-born family, even a lady and lord would be better than King Viserys' firstborn.

When your mother and brother passed, Viserys was prepared to bake you his heir, but you declined. You could think of nothing worse, having seen the stress and duty your father must endure on a day-to-day basis. You know Rhaenyra will be a better Queen.

Not to mention, you wish to marry for love. As childish and dreamer-like for you to want, you gave up fighting years ago.

On most of your escapades, Harwin finds you, and ultimately drags you back to the safety of the Keep. He's the only knight that you know of, that's caught you, leading you to believe he is responsible for reporting it to your father. Hence why you were abruptly dragged from your chambers this morning.

"And you think you can do better? Ser Criston at least understands that I'll do as I please, not try and reprimand me at every given chance." You lower your voice. "And watch yourself, Ser Harwin, I'm still your princess, no matter how much you hate it."

Regret flashes in his eyes before it's gone. "Then let's see what you've learnt."

Harwin draws his sword, knowing damn well he could be executed for doing so. But at this moment, you're both too wound up to differentiate between what's right and wrong. A habit, of the both of you.

You flinch at the large sword, deep down knowing Harwin would never jeopardise you, never put you in harm's way or risk hurting you. You lift your chin, swallowing the lump in your throat and raising your sword.

He watches in amusement, allowing you a heartbeat before he attacks, bringing his sword down. You block with ease, unprepared for how light it is. He's pulling all his strength back. You push the sword away, moving around and keeping your footwork light, smirking.

"Is something funny?" Harwin raises an unimpressed brow, his eyes never leaving you.

You bite back a smile at his clear agitation. "No."

He grunts, striking again. Your reflexes move before you think, blocking and attempting to counterattack yourself, refusing to show your frustration. He's still clearly overpowering you and much more experienced.

You silently pray for those that meet the end of Harwin's fury.

"Tell me, Princess" he starts, a loud ringing vibrating into the area as your swords clash. "Has Ser Criston taught you hand-to-hand combat, or how to escape someone's grip?"

The question takes you off guard, your head tilting as you try to remember. Harwin uses the moment to smack your sword out of your hand, his own dropping for your safety and his arms wrapping around you.

You cease breathing, the constricted in your throat and your heart skipping a beat. An arm gently presses against your throat, Harwin having put you in a controlled headlock, your back flush with his front.

Your lips part, your fingers instinctively digging into his arm. Heat crawls up your neck, blood pounding in your ear. You know this is a training exercise, but you can't help in feeling so safe in his arms. Your muscles automatically relax, your adrenaline calms and your breath slowly comes back to you with each second.

You should hate the situation you're in. Granted, if it was any other person you'd be kicking up a shit storm and preparing to have them fed to your dragon but it's not just anyone. It's Harwin, and that makes you hate him more.

Hate him for having this effect on you, for consuming your thoughts and imprinting himself amongst your dreams. Though you know he's not to blame, it's yourself.

For falling so profoundly, and irrevocably in love with him.

"No doubt, you could handle yourself in an armed fight but what if they get the upper hand, like I did just now, and you're left with close combat, or even worse, they grab you like this," Harwin says to you, his voice thickening with an emotion you can't quite place. "How do you get out?"

You shake with nerves, at the thought of your escape plan. It's stupid, and it might not work and fuck everything up. Though it could work, and once again, fuck it all up. You push the insecurities down, knowing that he's trying to teach you a life lesson, even if you don't want to hear it.

You twist your head, his grip not being tight in any way, and find his lips with ease, capturing them. Harwin falters, his arms opening and allowing you the opportunity to slip through and distance yourself from him.

"That's how." You lick your lips, drawing the taste of him into your mouth.

Harwin studies you with a deep look of something, mixed with unhinged anger and fear. He doesn't say anything, even as he quickly reaches for his sword, sheathing it against his hip and holding your eye for a moment longer.

"One day," he croaks. "You're going to wake up and find yourself all alone." And with that, he turns his back on you.

You watch him leave, shakily bringing the pads of your fingers to your lips, brushing them tenderly. You feel humiliated, shameful and disgusted. You also feel lighter, having finally answered your own question; his lips are soft and the taste of his breakfast still lingers.

"I already am." You whisper to yourself, biting your finger to keep the tears at bay, the anger subsided.

The sun begins its descent from the highest point in the sky before you arrive back at your quarters, dismissing your maids in exchange for silence. You sit atop a lounge on the windowsill, breathing the fresher air from the high distance, ignoring the crestfallen ache in your heart.

You knew something like this would happen, that Harwin would reject you and push you away. It's part of the reason why you hate him because you know you can't have him. Your father would never allow it, as his firstborn. He'd see to it that you marry a beneficial house, to further strengthen your sister's claim to the throne since you turned away from it.

It doesn't make it any easier, or any less hard. You've spent almost every day in each other's presence, in either passing or company. You've known him since he was a boy. Uncoordinated and lanky, until he grew and filled out into the man he is today.

"I don't know what you've done, but I'd steer clear from father," Rhaenyra bursts inside, speaking before seeing you. She calls for you when you don't respond, hoping she'll leave.

She doesn't.

Rhaenyra perches herself beside you, brushing a strand of your curly hair behind your ear. "What's happened?"

"Ser Harwin told father of my nightly adventures."

Rhaenyra frowns, gazing out the window. "It wasn't him, it was Ser Criston," you gape at her, shifting to lean your back against the wall, mirroring your sister. "He said as much when Ser Harwin confronted him about teaching you how to wield a sword, and the two go into it."

"Shit," you murmur, leaning your head back.

"I assume he came from seeing you, with how riled up he was. Never seen him so angry."

She looks at you expectantly. "I kissed him." Her eyes widen. "To prove a point! He asked me how I'd escape from a headlock, and I kissed him, to distract him. It worked because he let go of me."

"Makes sense," Rhaenyra nods, referring to his destructive path. "What was it like?"

You glance at her, a small smile ghosting your lips. "It was only brief, but they are smooth, the complete opposite of him."

You both giggle, dismissing the fact that you dishonoured not only yourself but Harwin. For a few minutes, you sit in silence, relishing in the company of your sister. These moments are rare, as of late, with her newfound responsibilities.

"Are you going to listen to father?"

You stare at her, the answer shining in your lilac eyes. "What do you think."

Harwin surrounds himself with his fellow gold cloaks, in an attempt to enjoy his night off. They laugh and joke, spilling their alcohol and losing their hands on woman's bodies.

He finishes his drink rather frustratedly, slamming it on the counter accidentally. He can't get the stupid fucking kiss out of his head, replaying the scene over and over.

The way your body moulded to his own, your smaller frame engulfed and your erratic heart pounding against his arm. How he divulged himself and allowed his nose to brush your hair, inhaling your scent and losing his control.

And fuck, when you leant up and kissed him, he couldn't help but respond. His restraint snapped at that moment, and if it weren't for you slipping out and distancing yourself-he doesn't want to imagine what he would have done.

From your first meeting, he knew he'd grow up to love you, your hot-headed temperament and stubborn wilfulness. Before he arrived in Kings Landing, his father had drilled into him how to act, how the royal family would act, yet there you stood, unaware of his presence as you yelled profanities into the sky. Not to mention, when you caught him gawking, asked him, the fuck are you looking at?

Your first words ever spoken to him.

He sighs dramatically, rubbing his face and deciding to leave, knowing that drinking his problems away won't solve anything. The cool air nips at him through his woollen clothes, his dark cape swaying behind him as he makes his way back to the Keep.

Approaching the gates, he hears a rustle, pausing to make sure his senses aren't clouded. "Fucking shit," Harwin immediately reaches for his sword, keeping his hand on the hilt whilst cautiously making his way closer to the whispered profanities.

He watches you, straightening your clothes and checking to make sure the coast is clear before you walk off toward the city. He raises a brow at the choice of clothes; black pants and a shirt, with a jacket that is a size too big and a cloak to hide your white hair. Though nothing can cover the deep lilac of your eyes.

He makes the hasty decision to follow you, keeping his distance yet being close enough to protect you should anything happen. Harwin smiles to himself, knowing this is the perfect opportunity to teach you a lesson.

If it's so easy for him to sneak up behind you, imagine someone else, with impure intentions.

He follows you for some time, a small part of him enjoying the look of awe and joy at the sights. Each night you leave, you try to explore new parts of the city, learning about your folk. Harwin must admit, not many royals would do so, preferring to stick to the comforts of the Keep.

The moon is high in the sky, shining down and revealing clear paths as you steer left and right, nowhere in particular yet taking note of each turn. You may be reckless, but you're not stupid.

Harwin chooses this moment to make his move, observing the way you slip steadily down the passageway and pause at the sound of water lapping against the walls. He creeps out, covering your mouth and pulling you to him, stepping out of the light and into the darkness.

You scream against his gloved hand, thrashing wildly and reaching for your concealed knife when, "and just like that princess, I've killed you. Or worse, knocked you out and used you for my pleasantries. How many times must I tell you until you get it through your thick skull that this isn't safe."

You stop, your heart thundering and your adrenaline pumping. You close your eyes, subconsciously leaning further into Harwin. He hesitantly removes his hand, waiting for the explosion.

"I could have killed you," you murmur, the weight of the blade heavy in your hand. You were prepared to stab him in the kidney. The thought of harming him destroys you. "I could have killed you, all because of your stupidity!" You whirl around, still touching him.

"My stupidity?" He repeats.

"Yes!" You fire, glaring up at him. "All to teach me a lesson, when I'm not stupid! Have you ever thought that maybe I just don't give a fuck? I know it's not safe, why do you think I sneak around and blend in." You pause, avoiding his gaze and staring at the Strong house crest on his chest. "This is the only time I feel normal, where my existence is insignificant."

"Princess, no one asks to be born into their roles, to be born rich or poor," he starts, remembering all the times you spoke of wishing to be someone other than a princess, other than Viserys' firstborn. "But it's our duty to push through, to become what we're meant to be; Lord of Harrenhal, and Princess, of the seven kingdoms."

Your emotions are high and twisted, a single tear slipping down your cheek as you squeeze your eyes shut to keep them at bay. "I didn't want to be a Queen, I sure as hell don't want to be a princess. I just want to be someone's wife, someone's mother. Someone's greatest love. Is that so hard?"

You can't control the words, the heartfelt words that shatter Harwin. Suddenly, he understands you. He knows you. He says your name, softly, bringing his hand to your chin and tilting it up. Forcing you to look at him.

Harwin wipes at your cheek with his thumb, tenderly caressing the flesh and relishing in the feel of you in his hand. So small and frail. So exposed. He opens his mouth to say more when the sound of metal armour clanging together draws his attention elsewhere.

"Shit." He curses.

He has nowhere to move to. The path spans over a hundred metres, with a wall on one side and the water's edge on the other. He couldn't even go to a corner. Solutions run through his mind, the sound of guards nearing causing him to do the first thing that pops up.

"Sorry, Princess." He mumbles, pushing you against the concrete wall and covering the majority of your body with his, with no space left between you. Your brows furrow in confusion, question flashing in your eyes.

Harwin does what he's always wanted to do: press his lips to yours.

You squeak, given no time to prepare, your eyes wide in surprise. Only twelve hours ago, he was looking at you with utter hatred and disgust for you doing the same thing. The blade clatters against the ground.

The gold cloaks walk past without an issue, chuckling at the two of you but paying no mind. Harwin keeps his lips firmly against you, hating having to put you in this situation.

When they become a dot in the distance, does he pull away, searching your eyes. "You kissed me back," you refer to earlier. That was your first kiss, this you never realised Harwin had responded. Your eyes harden, your lips pursing as you inhale as much air as possible before being your hand up and slapping him. His head snaps to the side at the sheer force, shock yet understandable written on his face.

He doesn't respond, the words unable to form in his mouth. He swallows thickly, his jaw taut. He deserved that. He dares look at you again, his chest rising rapidly and the air crackling.

You push off the wall, shaking your head in disbelief and attempting to round him. Your shoulder clashes with his when he turns to grab your upper arm, halting you. You glare up at him, opening your mouth to hurtle harsh words at him. Harwin moves first, pulling you back to him and claiming your lips.

You're not even given a chance to respond before he pulls back, his face still close and his breath fanning your cheeks. He looks at you with hunger, lust and want. Realisation dawns on you; he's just as conflicted as you are.

Your heart tugs you forward, your hands gripping his tunic and meeting him halfway. Harwin's hands cup the sides of your head.

He devours you, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease and his hands sliding to the base of your neck and head, titling you up to give more access. You whimper, grappling with his tunic as if he could suddenly move away from you.

He doesn't, shifting to have your back against the wall again, his apparent hard-on pressing into you. Your lungs ache with release, the lack of oxygen making you lightheaded yet desperate for more.

Slowly and reluctantly, you part, his forehead resting on yours. Your lips are evidently swollen, the taste of him still lingering as he peppers you softly, not quite wanting to stop.

"Harwin," you whisper, gliding your hands up to his cheeks, running the pads of your fingers over his beard and around his features.

"I know."

He could be executed for this, you could be disowned. But gods, does it feel right. Right to be in his hold, to be desired and kissed. You never want to stop.

"Fuck I know." He repeats, lower.

You nuzzle each other, refusing to leave the comfort of one another's warmth and touch, despite that nagging thought tugging in the back of your mind. Harwin murmurs that he needs to return you to the Keep, reluctantly standing straighter and removing himself from you.

You follow him in silence, sticking close and for once, not giving him grief. A step up from your usual nights out.

You soon arrive, pausing before you part and he enters through the main gates whilst you scamper up your hidden passageway. "I know it wasn't you, who told my father." You start. "It was wrong of me to accuse you, and I hope one day you can forgive my insolence, and accept my apology."

"Of course, Princess. It is known for spoilt children to lash out when they don't receive what they want," he begins to walk back with a teasing smirk.

You narrow your eyes, watching him for a heartbeat longer and then turning to disappear yourself. The journey back to your quarters is always short, your footsteps light as you work to not attract attention to yourself.

Heaving the door open, you stop dead in your tracks at the sight of your father standing in your room. "Father-"

"Where have you been?" He says in a low, deadly voice.

"Taking a walk,"

"Don't lie to me!" Viserys yells.

The room falls silent. You stare at one another, refusing to break contact. "What will it take for you to listen to me?"

You think over your choice of words. Is it wise to mention that you wish to marry for love? That you wish he'd allow for you to leave this godforsaken city and be elsewhere, anywhere. Be with Harwin.

"I wish-" you choke, refusing to look at him as you lay yourself bare. "I wish to marry of my own free will."

Silence. More silence, his fury-ignited eyes never leaving you, even as you brave the idea to glance up. "No."

"What-"

"You refused me in naming you heir, you will not refuse me in arranging a marriage for you. That, I can not accept." You gape at him, horror and sickness twisting deep within you. "Take this as your punishment for disobeying me."

"You can't do this!" You yell at his retreated figure, anger surfacing and exploding.

"Yes, I can." Viserys ends the argument, storming out of your quarters and forcibly shutting your door. You release a blood-curdling scream, frustration and betrayal gnawing at you.

You grab the closest object, a cup, and hurtle it across the room. It clangs every time it meets the ground, the metal ringing dying down when it rolls to a stop. Your chest heaves, your jaw clenching and unclenching as you grasp for some control, to leash your emotions.

You can't.

You want to hurt your father, hurt him like he's hurt you. There's only one way you know how, leaving you to quickly exit your room through the hidden passageway, navigating down unfamiliar tunnels.

When you were younger, you explored them all, yet there is only a small handful you use, mainly for your adventures outside the Keep.

You basically float over the ground, your steps carefully placed despite your fast pace, eager to arrive at your destination. You reach the door, knocking quickly but firmly, making sure you don't arouse the Hand of the King, or his younger son.

"Princess?" Harwin questions, glancing beyond you. "Is everything alright?"

You say nothing, surging forward and claiming his lips. Harwin can only raise his brows in surprise, at both your forwardness and boldness, your hands resting on his chest to walk him backward, closing the door swiftly behind you.

"What was that for?" He presses, distancing himself from you. He doesn't want to think of the penalty if you were found at this very moment. "Hmm?"

You nibble your lip, holding his gaze even though you'd rather burn for the next words that come out. "I need you."

The room falls silent, only the crackle of the fire is enough from keeping it dark and noiseless. Harwin studies you, not quite believing you. "You need me?" He approaches, agonisingly slow. "I find that very interesting, since only an hour or so ago, you were quite content."

He stands before you, his fingers coming under your chin and leaning your head up. He observes you, enjoying watching you squirm. "The truth, now." He knows you're lying, or at the very least, not entirely honest.

"I am telling the truth-" Harwin changes his grip, pulling you close to him by your chin. You almost collapse. He murmurs your name, the sound rolling down your back on waves. His eyes glint with a challenge, daring you to protest. Your neck heats up. "I could find little sleep, and my," you stop, wishing for the floor to open and swallow you hole. Harwin raises a brow.

"My fingers were insufficient."

You don't realise, that the previous fire of wrath has simmered down, laying dormant. A different burn ravages your body.

A wicked smile pulls at the corner of Harwin's mouth, his demeanour shifting. "Was that so hard?" His voice holding a certain husk, that you've never heard.

His thumb brushes your smooth skin, braving the course of your lips. You release a small breath you didn't realise you were holding and your mouth parts. Harwin drags your bottom lip down, enjoying your compliance.

"You need me to soothe that ache, Princess?" He tortures you, his mouth ghosting you yet inching up every time you try to close the gap.

"Please," you're not sure what you're begging for, the words just tumbling out. You close your eyes in frustration, his breath fanning you.

He finally relents, coming down on your mouth heavily. You barely have a moment to properly respond, his fingers tightening on your chin and his free hand coming to the base of your neck, keeping you steady as he takes your breath.

"This is all you needed," he pulls a hairsbreadth away, his nose pressing onto the side of yours. "Someone to dominate you, leave you powerless." He realises, looking over your wanton state.

Your hands fist his shirt, desperation clear on your face. He smiles softly, abruptly pulling back and creating a well-spaced distance from you. You feel as if a cold bucket of water has been poured over you, watching as he takes a seat by the fire.

"Go to bed, Princess."

You gape at him, fury bubbling to the surface. "Harwin," you start, taking a tentative step forward.

"What you are asking for, is treason. The fucking death penalty."

You flare up. "So is kissing me! What is going a little further?"

"We are talking about your virtue." He raises his voice, momentarily forgetting about his whereabouts. Gods above, should someone come knocking. "That would be despicable of me, to take something that belongs to your husband."

You frown, coming to stand before him, the sudden rush of heat inflicting goosebumps. "It should be mine to give away, not his to take."

He looks up at you, his curls dishevelled and unruly. He wears a worn shirt, the casual appearance causing your stomach to twist. What you would give, to share days where you are laid bare with each other, to see the other side of Harwin, the improper side of him.

"I trust you, Harwin," you begin, standing between his legs. "I want it to be you. No one else but you, who sees me, and touches me." You hoist a leg over his lap, moving to straddle his lap, your knees digging into the edge of the cushion.

Instinctively, Harwin's hands come to your waist, keeping you situated. He battles with his morals, his body and heart reacting completely opposite to his mind. If you were a low-born, he'd have fucked you back in the passageway, without a care of onlookers.

But your status halts him.

You say his name again, caressing his jaw, your nails scraping through his beard. He doesn't break contact, his palms wandering along your side, moving with a mind of their own. It's plain to see, how much he wants you, how much you want each other.

Painstakingly obvious.

You swallow nervously, inching down to press a gentle kiss on the underside of his jaw, allowing time for him to push you off should he really not want to continue. You wouldn't ask that of him. His fingers flex into your flesh, his head angling up slightly.

A ghost of a smirk plants itself over your lips, a sudden arrogance blooming at his reaction, at his heavier breath intake. You travel to his neck, feeling the urge to nibble lightly, Harwin rolling your hips into him reflexively.

You gasp into his skin at the sudden pleasure, the seam of your pants pulling tightly over your clit. Harwin groans lowly, both at your mouth finding his sweet spot and your hips rutting into him. A sinister thought crosses his mind.

Effortlessly he hoists you up, placing you over his thigh. You sit back in confusion, your initial reaction being that he wants to stop, until he speaks. "You say you use your fingers," your slightly wide eyes are enough of a confirmation. "Then use me. Get yourself off using me."

Your lips part, your eyes searching his. He smiles reassuringly, dragging your hips over his thigh. "Take your pleasure, Princess."

Your head drops into the crevice of his shoulder, an airy moan escaping you at the new sensation. Naturally, you begin to move on your own, a hand snaking up the other side of his head to thread through his curls, using him as leverage.

Harwin jolts his leg up, the action bringing a new wave of pleasure through you. You whimper into his shoulder, your mind reminding you how improper this is, how a woman takes no pleasure from laying with a man yet your body ignores every lesson you've ever been taught.

A low pressure builds, your thighs starting to shake and your movements quickening. Harwin makes the split decision to help, driving your hips down and over, the new motion brings you to your release.

You pant against him, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to move you gently, drawing your orgasm out. Slowly he comes to a stop, allowing you a moment to really comprehend what's happening before he shifts in a way that he can plant a kiss on your head.

"Was that good?"

You nod, a familiar heat rising in your cheeks. Gods that felt fucking magical, and he barely did anything. You can only imagine how his cock will feel.

He chuckles lightly, coaxing you to sit back and reveal your pretty face. He drags the backs of his fingers down your cheek, memorising each fine detail. Deep down, a small part of him fears this will be the last he'll ever see of it.

In one movement, Harwin stands and gingerly lowers you onto the fur rug in front of the fire, the flames dancing dangerously close. He knows how much you love the heat.

You gaze up at him, allowing him the opportunity to worship you. His large hands slip under your shirt, dragging the material as he roams every inch of your side. You arch your back and raise your arms, allowing easier access to glide the shirt off.

Goosebumps erupt under his hardened callouses, his fingers interlocking with yours once he moves up your arms and allows the shirt to bunch above your head. "Keep them here," he murmurs, capturing your lips.

You figure he means your hands, nodding against his mouth. His tongue invades your mouth, his breath becoming your own and his fingers flexing at the sheer taste of you. You have no idea how much power you wield over him.

His hands begin their descent, grazing your flesh and finding solace on your breasts, his mouth following suit. You grab onto the edge of the fur rug, gripping it firmly.

His tongue flicks your erect nipple, his teeth meeting the tender flesh. He nips and sucks around the area, a hand paying attention to your other breast, careful to administer equally. You gasp and writhe under him, unaware that he could bring you any pleasure from this.

Eventually, he moves on, stopping at your waistline. He flickers up to you, a silent ask of permission in his eyes. You give an airy yes, anticipation gnawing at you. Harwin pulls your pants and undergarment in one motion, the cool air causing you to jump.

He laughs softly, grinning at your nakedness, at the way your skin glows under the firelight. Right now, you're all his, his to take, to touch and love. His mind captures this moment, storing it away for a time when he plans on replaying it over and over.

"How do you feel, Princess, knowing you're about to be my dessert."

Your eyes brows raise at the comment, unsure of his hidden innuendo. A dark part of Harwin relishes in the fact that it's him, that gets to taint you. That he's the one to open the gates to a whole new world of pleasure. He plans on ruining you for any other man.

"What are you doing?" You ask more in curiousness than fear. Of all your lessons, the Septas never mentioned a man putting his head between your legs.

"I'm dining on my Princess, is that alright with you?" A dark glint shines in his eyes from between your thighs, his beard grazing your soft flesh. You whimper, biting your lip and giving him the go-ahead.

You suck in a deep breath at the first contact of his tongue, your body seizing. Fuck. You throw your head back in a silent moan, Harwin's mouth ravaging you. His tongue explores your folds and clit, emitting all pitches of sounds from you.

Suddenly his hands snake around your thighs and grip you thoroughly, spreading them further around his head and giving him easier access. You squeal at the feeling of his tongue entering you, pumping in and out.

"Harwin," your knuckles have since turned white.

This is a high you never thought you could experience, the intensity hitting you like a wave. The combination of his tongue, his lips and his beard is enough to drive you over. Of course, Harwin intends for you to be fully prepared, momentarily coming up to gauge your reaction as he pushes a finger into you.

You release a deep groan at the intrusion, the pleasure brewing. He takes his time, moving in and out of you, slowly adding a second finger at the same time his thumb rubs your clit.

You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to do anything but writhe under his hand. Gods you wish you could put your arms down and grab him, show him how good he's making you feel. Harwin spreads his fingers carefully, intently studying your reaction. He wants you prepped as best as possible, wanting your first-time pain-free.

With all these motions and pleasantries you fall over the edge, calling out his name. Harwin continues his movements for a second longer before removing his hand, allowing you to come down from your high.

He skims over you, capturing your lips and emptying your lungs. You instantly wrap your arms around him, eager to keep him close. He grinds himself into you, allowing you a moment to feel how hard he is.

You lick your lips whilst you watch him undress, tossing his clothes somewhere before diving straight back down to you. You barely get a chance to admire his hard-earned body, instead running your fingers deep into his back muscles.

"Give me your hand," he guides it down, wrapping it firmly around his cock. You suppress a giggle at his involuntarily deep groan. "This is what you do to me," he says your name. "This, and so much more. You have no idea the kind of control that's in your favour."

You can't help but smirk. You leave your hand wrapped around him, a little unsure of what to do. "You take the lead, whenever you're ready." Oh. He means for you to put him in.

You glance down, hesitantly gliding to the tip, drawing it closer. "Can you help?" You have no fucking idea what you're doing.

His hand envelops your own, guiding it to you and nudging your opening. You suck in a deep breath, flickering up to his own deep blue eyes. He leaves you to your own devices, gritting his teeth at every inch.

The feeling is unlike anything you've ever experienced. For the time being, it's uncomfortable and unnatural, your body's initial reaction to close your legs and get him out of you. But you don't, removing your hand and granting Harwin the opportunity to ease in.

"Harwin." You grunt, clawing at his shoulders.

"You're doing so well, taking me so well." He praises, finally stopping once he's filled you. As time passes, your body begins to relax, climatizing to having his cock stretch you open.

"Move, please move." You strain, wanting this first part to be over with.

He does, slowly rocking out and in, the slight pain shifting to pleasure, your deep breaths becoming short. You have no idea what to do besides lay here, wrapped around Harwin as he thrusts into you, restraining himself from fucking you into the rug.

That will be for later.

For now, he intends on showing you a softer, gentler side of him, one where he tenderly brings you to release.

He fists the fur beside your head, his other hand on your hip as he steadily moves within you, your back arching slightly when he reaches parts of you, you never thought he'd reach.

You bring a hand to his face, brushing a part of his curls back and revealing his prominent features, trying desperately to hold contact.

He uses the hold on your hip as leverage, lifting your hips ever so little when he ruts into you, eliciting all frequencies of sounds from you. Your walls begin to clench around him, alerting him of your impending orgasm.

Slipping his hand over, Harwin teases your clit, eager to really please you. With this being your first time, your climax quite quickly, Harwin's name falling from your lips.

You gasp at his sudden eviction, a small part of you wondering if that was it. Harwin soon answers, scooping you up off the ground and planting you beside the fire, your front pressing against the wall. Thankfully the fire leaves it warm.

"Harwin, what are you-oh fuck!" You cry out at his sudden intrusion, entering from behind.

Harwin leaves no space between you, your legs spread to give him better access and a hand weaving through your hair and pulling your head to the side. "You wanted this, Princess, and you'll take it." He grunts into your ear, his thrusts hitting sharply. "But don't worry, you'll find yourself soon enjoying it."

You almost flutter around him, the words sinking in and leaving you in a hot and bothered state. His guttural voice mixed with those cold, demeaning words.

In a way, he's not wrong, the new position causing all sorts of pleasures to tremble through your body; your nipples grazing the stone, his cock hammering into you and his dominant hands manoeuvring you like a whore.

You snake an arm around, cupping the back of his head, keeping him close. With your cheek melted into the stone wall, his breath moulds with your own, your lips dangerously near, yet not touching. You close your eyes, enjoying the brutal fucking and not to mention, Harwin's own grunting and groaning.

It brings you joy to know that he finds great pleasure in you.

"You have no idea what you've just done, allowing me the honour to be the first to have my way with you. It wasn't a smart move Princess because I intend to ruin you," it's as though his own words spur him on, harshly rutting into you and carving you into the wall. You can do nothing but take it, and endure his treatment.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

"I intend on breaking you in to my cock, destroying all hope for you to ever enjoy someone else." He lowers his voice almost menacingly. "No one will ever fuck you like I am."

You attempt a nod, knowing he's correct. As fucked up as it seems, you know that only Harwin can bring you to these highs. He's the only one you'll ever allow to treat you this way. Like an object, a vacant hole.

You know your close, your legs beginning to shake and your breath quickening. "Harwin, please," you whimper, once again not entirely sure what you're pleading for.

Whatever it is, you know he can grant it.

Somehow he hits a deeper angle, leaving you to cry out clenching around him. He falters for a second, close to spilling over himself. He so desperately wants to, but he's holding out. With the new tempo, you crumble, spilling around Harwin as he continues to thrust into you.

You whine against him, the overwhelming pleasure causing tears to prick in the corners of your eyes. He doesn't stop, only slowing as he whirls you around, picking you up by your thighs and clamping them to his waist.

"Gods," you moan airily, his cock ramming against your sensitive walls.

"The seven won't help you here." He muses, observing your expressions.

Amazingly enough, Harwin increases his tempo, similar to before. You choke, pawing at his chest. "Harwin I can't,"

"Yes you can, hey," he cups your jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. "One more, be a good girl and give me one more, you can do it."

You bite your lip at the pain beginning to throb, your body exhausted and to be honest, your pussy used. His dark eyes watch you, a hand coming down to press against your clit, helping in relieve that pressure building once again.

He groans your name, his other hand moving to brace against the skirting around the fireplace. With his strength and subconscious force, he breaks the corner of it. You barely react to the stone crumbling at his feet, more focused on climaxing for a third and final time.

He swallows your scream, the rush of you around him enough to bring him over, spilling his seed deep. You lean your head back, your chest heaving and no doubt your back scratched. You feel content, Harwin slumping into your shoulder, nuzzling your flesh.

"I never imagined it would feel like that," you say more to yourself, your fingers threading through his sweaty curls.

Harwin lifts his head. "It's never like that, Princess."

The wild winds blast through your hair, your dragon's head blocking the majority from hitting you smack bang on your chest. At this height, the force is unimaginable.

You slowly begin your descent, dreading the moment you land and go back to reality, your cruel reality. In these last few months, you were made to follow your sister during her tour, allowing the lords to put themselves forward for your hand, alongside Rhaenyra.

You scowled the entire time. A cold, blank sheet was over your face, your eyes narrowed and dark. You could burn your father for the agony he's put you through, refusing your one ask of him. He's strained his relationship with you.

As more and more days pass, you ponder the thought of running away, denouncing your blood and flying off into the distance, far from this heartache.

You know it's foolish, that you must uphold your duty, but fuck duty.

Your dragon lands smoothly, his large frame dwarfing you once you climb down, your hand brushing against his scales and his head. He growls softly, leaning into your palm and hoping to draw this time out. He's missed you, much like the dark-haired knight that only just received word of your arrival.

You and your sister returned in the night, and since dawn you've been up in the skies, forgetting the situation at hand for a while longer.

You gesture for the dragon keepers to guide your dragon back into his nest, turning swiftly and making your way up to the Keep. Eyes watch you, studying you with every step. Since your last conversation with your father, you've turned into a cold little bitch.

It's the only way you know to protect yourself.

Your steel gaze burns through anyone who makes contact, challenging them to speak their mind. You know of the rumours that spread, how you've turned down every suitor, how your attitude has changed and you are no longer the nice Princess.

You don't notice the deep blue eyes following your every move through the courtyard, studying your behaviour. A part of you wonders how your first interaction would be, having not spoken a word to him since that night.

After he helped you dress, you snuck back into your room riddled with guilt. Suppose you came to your senses, realising exactly what you'd just done. But somewhere, you didn't care, you still don't. The next day you prepared yourself to send him away, should he come looking, but he never did.

And then you left, following your sister around Westeros.

"Have you seen him?" Rhaenyra sidles up to you, accompanying you to your quarters where you must prepare for the large feast. Your father has organised a large gathering where he can personally meet both of your suitors.

"No." You answer plainly.

You confessed the incident to Rhaenyra, trusting her to keep it to herself. She has and is more excited for the two of you to speak than you are.

"We should have you dressed your best tonight, show him what he's had a taste of, and what he's no doubt missing."

You roll your eyes, looping an arm through hers. She's been your rock through the whole ideal with your father, understanding both sides, yet gravitating towards yours.

Rhaenyra takes the opportunity to order your ladies as she sees fit, demanding your hair be styled up to accentuate your chest and collarbone, as the dress she picks is an off-the-shoulder. The black and red material falls to the floor, the sleeves being a cape, tying to the bodice only at the shoulder and leaving your arms to be either hidden or shown.

The dress plunges down your breasts, opting for a revealing look, courtesy of Rhaenyra. She finishes it off with a dragon-like necklace, alluding to the animal protecting your neck. Throughout the design, scales to represent your house has been embroidered, making it one of a kind.

Your sister's dress is similar, in the revealing sense. The both of you are definitely pushing your father's buttons, and you have no care.

The hours past by swiftly, and soon it's time to present yourselves. You walk side by side to the great hall, an anxious tug pulling within your stomach. You can't help but wonder how the evening will play out, and just what will happen with Harwin.

The great doors swing open, Rhaenyra being introduced first as she's the heir, and you second. Your heart rate quickens with each step, hundreds of eyes staring. You debate whether to search for his, your pace faltering as you connect.

Gods be fucking damned, he looks divine.

Your mouth dries at his black attire, at his curls being pulled back and revealing his defined features. It seems he's had a similar thought, dressing his best.

So many words portray through your eyes, so many thoughts and emotions. His jaw flexes as you draw near, his seat being close to the high table. The rest of the room fades, his gaze agonisingly slowly moving down your body, images of your naked figure coming to mind.

He pauses at your breasts, subconsciously moistening his lips before he flickers up to your face. He inhales sharply. These past months have done you justice, or you've simply become a woman since he had his share of you.

Your exchange doesn't go unnoticed, by both of your fathers.

Rounding the high table, you opt to take your seat, unlike Rhaenyra who greets Viserys before joining you. Neither of you bothered for Alicent, who flares daggers at you in particular. She normally leaves you alone, yet since the altercation with your father, she guns for the both of you.

You keep silent through the speech, given by your father, focusing on the detail of the cloth before you. A burning sensation spreads through you, almost like a sixth sense, sensing a pair of eyes boring into your skull.

You clench your jaw, preparing to scare them off when you pause. It's Harwin, unable to keep his eyes off you. Your skin heats up, your thighs pressing together. Fuck, the effect he has on you.

Viserys takes his seat, the people either beginning to eat or taking to the dance floor, music filling the air. You decide to eat, keeping your attention locked on your plate, desperate to finish it before you go looking for Harwin. You want answers, and one way or another you'll get them.

At some stage a young lordling braves the high table, asking for your hand. You pause your chewing, your eyes venomous. "As you can see, my lord, I have yet to finish my meal," you gesture to the full plate.

The boy's cheeks redden, and quickly he excuses himself. You scoff, resuming your meal with your eyes scouring the hall. You watch the people dance, eventually ditching your plate and leaning back in your chair, your eyes narrowing at Harwin's empty place beside his brother.

You find him amongst the crowd, his attention on a young maiden. Or so you thought, until his gaze flickers up to you, before averting again.

He wants to play that game.

Rising, you round the high table and descend the small flight of stairs, accepting the first person to offer a dance and joining everyone else. At first, you attempt to pay attention to your partner, your bodies moving in partial sync across the floor.

It's not until you spin outward, that you notice Harwin, now with a different girl.

With each movement, you glance over at him, a shadow of annoyance covering you as you realise he refuses to acknowledge you.

You inhale deeply, deciding to ignore your heart's biggest ache and try to enjoy your time without him. You switch partners, losing sight of Harwin as the night progresses. You've lost sense of yourself, spinning and moving to the flow of the music, changing partners every so often that you have no idea who each one is. Your cheeks are warm, your eyes alight. You haven't had this much fun in a while, the suitors flocking to you for a chance to dance.

Your current partner twirls you around, his grip firm and unwavering. For the first time, he matches you, each movement sturdy and confidence clear in his steps. He makes for a great dance partner. You can't help but laugh as he draws you to him, only to raise his arm over your head and redirect you.

His hand slips from yours, signalling a partner change, and you spin to stop in someone's chest. You instinctively brace yourself on his chest, an apology on your lips as you glance up. "Ser Harwin," you breathe his name.

"Princess," he curtly acknowledges.

His chest tightens at your appearance, wide and excited eyes, wisps of hair falling from their place and framing your face. Not to mention, your delicate hands still pressed to him, leaving only a splinter of a gap between you.

You follow his gaze, realisation dawning. You go to remove yourself from him, when his own hands cover yours, gently plucking them off his chest. You expect him to let go, throw you aside and move on, but he doesn't.

Harwin grasps your hands, leading you into the next dance. You follow him, lost within the depths of his blue eyes, so many words threatening to tumble out. You move fluently, matching his pace.

"Harwin," you say lowly, unsure of how to proceed.

"Don't." Your brows furrow, your chests pressing together as you both move in. "Just don't say anything."

You scoff. "You expect us to dance in silence?" He says nothing, despite the electricity sparking around you. "I've been gone for months and this is how treat me?"

"What do you want me to say?" He grits.

"Anything!" You say a little loudly, breaking contact to stare at his house emblem stitched to his chest. You sigh, closing your eyes. "Why didn't you come to see me?"

"My apologies, Princess, I didn't realise I was your lap dog."

You snap up to him. Fire burns within your hard stare. "What is your problem? Why are you like this?"

He raises an eyebrow, extending you away from his body, only to snap you back to him. You collide with his chest harshly, flashbacks of that night coming to your forefront. Reminders of how easily he dominates you.

"Are you so dense, Princess, that you can't see your actions have consequences."

You gape at him, matching his hard levelled glare. "Careful Ser, anyone else and I'd have their head." Normally, Harwin would never dare speak so freely, yet at this moment the mere presence of you sets him alight. He grunts in response to your warning.

You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling deeply to keep the dragon at bay. The last thing anyone needs is for you to boil over and explode. "What actions are you speaking of?"

You honestly have no idea what he's referring to. "Ahh, so you're ignorant as well. Tell me again why you came to me that night, why you begged,"

"I did not beg!" You almost growl. Fuck he makes you angry, almost rivalling your father at this moment. Your veins simmer, your stomach twisting in rage. "I told you why-"

"I don't believe you." Harwin cuts you off. He lowers his face, so close to your own. His breath bares down on you, his lips dangerously near, yet Harwin's movements are calculated. There's no warmth in his eyes. "I think someone got angry at daddy, and decided to get back at him using me."

You freeze. You never expected him to say that, to call you out. "Harwin," you start, desperation filling you. You need to explain yourself, to make him understand.

Betrayal flashes across him, his back straightening. "Good evening, princess." He spits out your title, removing himself from you entirely.

"Harwin," you choke, reaching for him when a figure steps in front of you. You barely give the man a glance before you intend on following the knight.

"If I may, Princess?"

You ignore the man offering his hand for a dance, staring off at Harwin as he makes his way through the crowd and exits the hall. Distress floods you, your body shaking as you fight the urge to heave.

You feel sick.

"Sister, are you alright?" Rhaenyra notices, immediately coming to your side. You can't say anything, darting between her and where Harwin just left. She nods in understanding. "Go, I'll tell father you're feeling ill."

You squeeze her hand gratefully, before making your way toward a different exit, with a plan of cutting him off. You have vague ideas of where he would go. With everyone in the hall, it leaves the corridors vacant.

Picking your dress up at the knees, you pick up a run, your shoes hitting the floor lightly as you intend on making minimal noise. Blood roars in your ears, your heart pumping erratically.

You round corners, desperate to slip out of the Keep before anyone realises. Finally, you enter the gardens, stopping when you spot Harwin storming his way toward you, unaware of your presence.

You step into his view, flinching as he stops dead in his tracks. He goes to speak, but you beat him to it. "I am to speak, and you are going to listen." You raise a finger, keeping him rooted whilst you close the distance.

You stand dangerously close, your chest heaving and your hair falling to your shoulders. "Yes, I came to you because I was furious because I knew that it'd destroy my father much as he'd done to me. He asked what it would take to contain me, and I voiced a marriage of my own free will. He refused." Harwin stands rigid, his fingers flexing at his sides. "But I came to you-"

"Because you knew I'd do it. You took advantage of my affections for you, you used me!" Harwin raises his voice, his emotions controlling him. You deny it, trying to explain yourself when he talks over you. "You have no idea how I felt the next morning when my own gold cloaks told me that the King was to select your hand. You shattered me," you close your eyes at the sound of your name leaving his lips with such pain, tears building.

"Yet you have such a fucking hold on me that I stupidly offered my hand."

Your eyes fly open, meeting his own despite the darkness. The bright moon shines down, lighting the area as best as possible. "You," you drawl, comprehending his words.

"Yes, and I had to endure your father and his court's laughter."

"But your his Hands son-first born son! Heir to Harrenhal!"

He chuckles darkly. "Exactly, all I have to offer you is a half-burnt castle, courtesy of your ancestors."

You can't fathom that your father didn't even consider Harwin, that he belittled him. He has no idea what he's done.

"Harwin," he shivers. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that. What my father did is cruel,"

"A trait that runs in the family."

A tear slides down your cheek, defeat seeping in. It seems no matter what you say, Harwin refuses to hear. After a heartbeat of silence, Harwin moves to round you, pausing at your palm coming into contact with his chest. The feel of him sends a shiver down your spine.

Harwin slides your hand off as if you've burnt him, continuing on his path. An intense wave of pain surges through you, obliterating every part of you without remorse. Your chin trembles, your mind steaming at you to stop him, to fuck the protocols and policies.

You open your mouth to call out, to tell him the truth but it falls short in your throat, lodged well. You fear for what happens when you lay yourself bare, what he'll say and do.

"I'm in love with you."

Harwin completely seizes, as if he was close to falling off a cliff.

"I came to you, because deep down I knew my father would never approve, especially of us marrying." With each word Harwin approaches you, his body weightless. "So I decided that before I became caged and forced into a dull marriage, that I'd take control and choose who takes my virtue. That I'd lay with the man that I love, even if it were for a night."

Harwin stands directly behind you, his front pressing against your back, his breath on your neck. "If you're lying to me,"

You turn to face him. "You think I'd allow anyone to treat me like a whore?"

A flicker of understanding passes between you. How he manoeuvred you, how he controlled you like a puppet and fucked you against the wall without mercy.

"What do you know of being a whore?"

You tilt your head, standing on your toes to brush his cheek. "I know I'd let you do whatever you want, so long as it pleases you."

Harwin inhales sharply, his body itching for you. He murmurs your name, his voice trembling and his restraint slipping. He allows his fingers to loosely hang off your hips, drawing you closer.

Your mouth ghosts his, the temptation seeping in. You move your arms to his neck, threading your hands through his hair. Harwin groans, his hooded eyes burning through you, his control snapping.

He captures your lips, his grip on you tightening and his palms travelling every inch of your back, one of them ending up in your hair, the other on your neck. You whimper softly, Harwin using the opportunity to slip in his tongue and ravage you properly.

You're powerless against him, the lack of oxygen having its effect on your brain. You feel him move you backward, directing you through the garden until you stand flush to a wall, out of sight. Harwin found this hidden spot behind the bushes when he was a young lad, oft venturing here as he grew older to escape his reality.

He skims down the skirt of your dress, lifting it to cup your pussy. You whine, pulling apart to lean your head into the brick. Harwin smirks at your state, his palm moving in circular motions.

"Your drenched Princess. How long have you been like this?" He taunts you.

"Since I laid eyes on you," you answer airily.

Harwin hums in satisfaction, removing your undergarment and tapping the inside of your thigh to signal you step out of it. A chill shudders down your spine in realisation; Harwin plans on having you against this wall, where anyone could easily happen upon you.

"Hold this," he refers to your skirts, bunching the front into your stomach. You do as he says, biting your lip as he works to remove himself.

Harwin pauses, his cock hard and throbbing in his hand. "Tell me you want this," he rasps.

"I want you to fuck me."

A cold smile tugs at his lips, "as my princess commands."

He nudges into you, giving you a moment before he slides all the way in. You tense, having only had him months ago and nothing since. It doesn't exactly hurt, it feels uncomfortable, like he should be there but he is.

You grapple with his shoulders, hissing once he reaches the hilt, filling you with every inch of him that you can take. He shudders at your walls clenching around him.

Slowly he eases out and in, working you to a steady rhythm as to make sure he won't hurt you, that you've accustomed to him. You have.

He slams his hand onto the wall beside your head at the same time his hips rut into you. Your mouth opens in a silent groan, your forehead pressing against Harwin's as he intends to watch you.

Each thrust is intentional, his cock hitting as deep as possible and his slow but hard movements driving you crazy. Your whimpers and small sounds spur him on, a hand on your hip to help leverage him into you.

Though he's fucked you before, you still have no idea what to do, not wanting to just stand here and take his brutal pace. You remember how it felt to have your legs around his waist, how he was able to hit deep angles and completely fill you.

Lifting a leg up, you hook your ankle around his waist, Harwin instantly shifting. His hand glides down to your thigh, keeping it locked to him and his hips drive deeper into you.

You begin to feel that burn within your abdomen, brewing with each thrust, especially as he switches to almost completely vacating you before he hits home. You cry out, Harwin instantly covering your mouth.

"Quiet Princess, otherwise this ends very quickly." Harwin grunts, referring to someone potentially finding you.

You attempt to nod. He doesn't exactly trust your control, keeping his palm where it is as he continues to piston out of you, his heavy pants signalling how close he's getting.

You dig your heel into his lower back, so close to falling over the edge, desperate for him to follow. Harwin glides his hand from your thigh to your clit, paying particular attention to the bundle of nerves and the added sensation being enough for you to climax.

Your moan is muffled, Harwin's hips faltering at the feeling of you gushing around him. His own restraint slips, his cock ramming into you one last time, his seed spilling. His head falls to your shoulder, his hand slipping from your mouth to rest on the side of your head.

Your chest heaves, a slight sense of fatigue threatening to wash over you. "I hate you, with every fibre of my being." He whispers into your skin, his lips grazing your exposed collarbone.

"I know." You reply, your mouth dry as you run a caressing hand over his hair. You don't know what to do from this point onward, whether you and Harwin go your separate ways or you fight for him.

It ultimately falls on him.

"I would burn this fucking city to the ground for you," you murmur, wanting him to comprehend just how much he plagues you, how much he wields you, how nothing else matters in this lifetime but him. Hesitantly, Harwin lifts his head, unprepared for the serious glint in your eye. "Don't give up on me, not yet."

"Then don't leave me."

Your lilac eyes shine with fire and determination. "Never. I love you too much," he looks away, releasing a heavy breath as though he doesn't believe you. "Hey," you grab his face, forcing him to meet your stare. "I have loved you, since I was a girl. You, are why I hate my status. If I were a lower-born daughter, we could have wed a long time ago, without the burden of our duties."

"Show me," his words are barely audible, but you catch them. Show me.

Steadily you lower your leg from his waist, ignoring the slight irritation from your hips and sudden blood flow. His soft cock slips from you, hanging limp. Pushing down the nerves that erupt along your body, you sink to your knees, glancing up at him through your lashes.

A flicker of surprise passes over Harwin. He didn't exactly mean this. Though he'd be stupid to pass up the opportunity.

"You're the only man I'll get on my knees for," you quip, tentatively wrapping your fingers around his cock.

Harwin hisses at the contact, his hand bracing himself against the wall. You allow instinct to take over, cautiously pumping him, studying Harwin's reactions. His lips part, his breath becoming heavy with each glide, his cock hardening under your touch.

"Am I doing it right?" You ask nervously, unsure of what else you could be doing to him.

"Princess," he grits, his fingers curling into a fist above you. "You keep that up and I won't be able to last."

Your cheeks flare at his comment, your thumb brushing over his inflamed head. Harwin grunts under your ministrations, his other hand flexing as he withholds the urge to grip your hair.

"Can you teach me, how to use my mouth?"

Harwin's eyes fly open, instantly finding your own. "You don't have to, what your doing is just fine."

"But I want to," you pause your movements, looking up at him expectantly. "Either teach me or I'll learn myself."

His eyebrows rise to his hairline. "You are a determined thing, aren't you?" You scowl, gently tightening your grip on him. "Alright alright," he repeats, his body stiffening. "Put it in, and for the love of the seven, don't use your teeth."

A wicked grin spreads across your face, setting Harwin on edge as you take him into your mouth, inwardly cringing for a moment. Harwin shudders, his hip's reflexively jutting forward.

"Just," he pants, at the mere feeling of his cock inhabiting your mouth. "Move like you were before, and use your tongue."

Your brows furrow slightly, hesitantly gliding along his cock and back down, dragging your tongue on his underside. He groans, his hand coming to your hair and threading it. How he so desperately wishes to face fuck you, but he won't. Not until you're his.

You bob your head, following Harwin's instructions as he guides you to bring him to a climax, his leverage on your head allowing him to gingerly rut his hips into you. "Good girl," he murmurs, his eyes closing in pleasure.

An idea flickers, your tongue swirling around his swollen head and your hand wrapping around the base of him, a small smirk threatening to spread as Harwin stammers.

You feel powerful, knowing that your mere mouth can bring Harwin to this state, his moral restraint close to breaking like the chains kept around your dragon.

Harwin calls your name, his cock twitching in your mouth. He's close, dangerously close and he fears that if you don't stop, he won't pull out in time. You remember how he felt you near your climax the night he disappeared between your thighs, sucking gently on your clit to bring you over.

You wonder if the same applies to him.

You move to his tip, gently sucking. Harwin cries out at the unexpected sensation, forcing his hips forward and ultimately thrusting his cock further into your mouth as he shatters.

You squeak, his seed filling your mouth and slipping down your throat. You can't help but cringe at the taste, pulling off him to wipe your mouth.

Slowly raising, you observe Harwin's state, as he comes down from his high. He releases a heavy breath, his senses clearing. A sense of pride runs through you, for being able to please him as he did to you.

Being with a man, is not at all what the Septas told you.

Harwin grabs the underside of your jaw, pulling you up to him. You fist his jacket, a small moan escaping you when his tongue slips in. He doesn't care that he can taste himself.

He steals your breath, your lungs aching and that familiar burn searing through your abdomen. He reluctantly pulls back, his forehead leaning on yours, his lips feathering you, refusing to completely stop.

"Harwin," you whisper, your hands sliding to his neck, playing aimlessly with his loose curls. "What are our next moves?"

"Hmm?" He hums absentmindedly, too lost in the feeling of your cheek against his. He nuzzles you, an act of intimacy that even fucking you couldn't compare to.

You chuckle, deciding to leave it and enjoy the moment, as much as the two of you should plan out the next steps.

"You're mine," he says lowly, his gravelly voice sending chills down your spine. "And I'm yours."

You nod, a smile gracing your lips. "You've ruined me for anyone else."

Tag List: @iwillboilyourteeth @sageshorrorblog @gibbsgirl7 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @missusnora @jdm-traash @happynerdtale @westeros-needs-me @killthedarkthoughts @stardustdragon9 @my-watch-begins @ietss @znanaworm @fulla02

#karla's favs 🫀#ser harwin x reader #harwin strong smut #hotd

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luvwanda · 23 days

Text

WHAT A BEAUTIFUL TIME TO BE ALIVE

EVAN BUCKLEY IS FUCKING BISEXUAL!!!!

#buck is canonically bisexual #evan buckley #is a boy and a girl kisser #bisexual #bi!buck #bisexual representation #911 abc #fox could never #we love you abc

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luvwanda · 27 days

Text

first time (18+)

Pairing: Steven Grant x afab!Reader

Warnings: SMUT; sub!virgin!Steven, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, handjob, kissing.

“This is you, yeah?” Steven scratched the back of his neck a little nervously, thumb pointing to the door of your apartment complex.

The date he had so nervously invited you on was the most fun you’d had in ages. While Steven could have pointed out a million things he thought he did wrong, you thought he was adorable in all his antics. Conversation flowed without any stupid small talk, he made you laugh without trying to, and he even brought you two different flower bouquets because he wasn’t sure which ones you’d like more.

He was so sweet, insisting on walking you home after dinner even though the restaurant you went to was around the corner from your place. You took his hand in yours when the two of you left the restaurant, knowing he’d be to nervous to do it himself.

This wasn’t the first time you’d gone out with Steven. He’d been harboring a debilitating crush on you for all six months that you’d been working with him, holding himself back from asking you out or kissing you after every platonic lunch or dinner spent together.

Steven’s big, beautiful brain almost melted when you kissed him after getting ice cream after work a few days ago. He’d been glancing down at your lips the entire time you’d been eating, mesmerized by how they looked shining with the sugary dessert. And then all of a sudden you were leaning over, holding his cheek and kissing him so softly, like he was a million dollar artifact in the museum you were both growing to hate.

Steven had gone red all over, eyes casting down to your lap before muttering out a shy, “Thank you.”

You had giggled and brushed a stray curl off of his forehead to ease his worried eyes, “Figured I’d be waiting another six months if I didn’t kiss you right away.”

Standing in front of your building tonight, he was giving you those same worried eyes again. His hand was still in yours and you reached over to grab his other one as well, weaving your fingers through his and swinging your joined hands for a moment, “Do you want to come up for a drink or something?”

Steven’s eyes glimmered with a sort of anxious excitement for a moment, “Yeah- ‘course.”

You gave his left hand a gentle squeeze and smiled, pulling him up to your flat. He stumbled behind you, forever amazed by your ability to make the simplest activities feel like an adventure. When you led him inside, he calmed down a little bit, the familiarity of your home comforting him. Everything inside it was so you and it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

Slipping your coat and shoes off, you went into the kitchen to check on what alcohol you had, “I’ve got wine, whiskey, tequila, you name it.”

Steven sat down at the kitchen island, hair a little disheveled from when he pulled his sweater off upon entering. Your heart ached with how beautiful he looked, nodding in response to his answer of “Wine’s good” but barely registering it. How could you when he was sitting before you like this - big eyes following your hands as they poured the wine, cheeks and lips a little pink from warming up inside your apartment.

Getting the job at the museum turned out to be the best decision you had made in years, if not your life. You were falling hard for Steven, but it wasn’t as scary as it seemed to be in the past.

You handed him his glass and clinked yours to his gently, “To bitchy bosses?”

He laughed softly and nodded, “To bitchy bosses — For bringing us together.”

You took your sip and settled into your chair next to him, nudging his shoulder with yours gently, “Heard you stand your ground with her today, by the way. Proud of you, y’know?”

The small praise made him melt into the chair a little more, “It’s the beginning of a revolution, I think. We could make the whole museum ours, yea?”

Giggling into your glass, you nursed it in your hands and looked over at Steven as he turned in his seat to face you better. The tension between the two of you was always so high, no matter how much you laughed together or how much time you spent alone, there was always a burning tension that made it almost impossible for you to think clearly with him around.

His glass was on the counter, eyes scanning your face that slightly anxious way again before he laughed at himself quietly, hands coming up to smooth over his face.

“Christ — I thought it would be easier to kiss you myself this time, but I don’t- I don’t quite know where to start.”

You bit back a smile, delighted that he was fighting the urge to kiss you just as much as you were. You set your glass aside and took his hand, pulling him closer, “C’mere.”

Steven got off the high chair and stepped to stand between your legs, still taller than you. He felt you guide his hand to your cheek and leave it there, bringing your own two hands to his neck. You leaned your forehead against his, “It’s just me, Steven.”

He thought he was going to pass out. You were so close and so warm and he could even smell the remnants of the coconut lotion you’d put on earlier. He gathered his thoughts after a moment and nodded, nuzzling his nose against yours before pressing the softest kiss to your lips.

You were just about to say something when he kissed you once more, a little deeper this time, his hand on your cheek tilting your head the way he needed it to kiss you the way he wanted. One of your hands played with the curls at the nape of his neck and you smiled into the kiss, pulling him closer.

Finally. Steven was finally breaking out of his shell and his kiss made it hard not to grab his hand and pull him up to your bedroom immediately. You could tell he still needed your guidance, so you licked at his bottom lip gently, waiting until he opened his mouth to you with a soft groan. It was downright embarrassing how his groan went straight to your core, but you powered through and worked your tongue into the kiss, absolutely hooked on his taste.

The way his free hand hung at his side shyly was adorable and so very Steven of him, and you reached down to find it and place it on your waist gently. Coming up for air, you looked down at his hand and encouraged him to let it travel across your skin, “You can touch me, love. It’s okay.”

His eyes barely opened when you parted and he just nodded, pulling you in again and letting his hand barely wander down to the crease of your hip, giving it a small squeeze. Something about the shyness of it all made you feel like a teenager again and you smiled into the kiss as your hands traveled down his back, resting just over his ass until he gave his permission.

Steven hummed in approval and you brought your hands down to give his surprisingly full ass a playful squeeze, making both of you smile into the kiss, so much that your lips broke apart.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” You giggled and he quirked a brow, “Yeah?”

You gave him a soft “mhm” as you kissed across his cheek slowly, stopping to place a special kiss on that dimple that formed in response to your kisses. Taking a bit of a leap, you led a trail of slow kisses over his jaw and just below his ear, feeling his pulse thump faster and his breaths get a little shaky.

Steven’s reaction to all of your ministrations was unbearably hot, but you had a feeling it had been a while since he’d been touched like this, so you didn’t want to push him. When your lips slowly made their way down his neck and found a spot that made him whine, you almost lost it.

You pulled back a little bit and tipped his chin down to look at him, that warmth pooling at your center again when you saw his swollen lips and messy hair.

“Steven,” You panted, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes, “How long has it been since- since you’ve been touched like this?”

He was so eager with you, yet so shy — you were scared to even look down between the two of you to see if his arousal was evident. You didn’t want to make him any more anxious.

“Um- Never..” He rasped out, his gaze falling in embarrassment and your brows furrowed as you brought him back to you with your finger under his chin, “Hey, that’s ok, you know?”

You stroked his clean shaven cheek with your thumb, “So you’ve never-”

“Nope.”

It was hard to find your next words because, of course, it didn’t matter to you that he was a virgin, but you didn’t know whether he wanted to take any new steps today — any more than he’d already taken. You didn’t want to overwhelm him.

“Do you want to, um - keep going?” Were the very unceremonious words you chose and you slapped yourself mentally for them.

Steven laughed under his breath and nodded, leaning in and nudging you with his nose until his lips found yours again. You indulged him for a moment, but pulled away to look up at him again, “Let’s move to the couch?”

He only nodded and rushed over to the couch with you, barely registering the way you fell into his lap until he felt the grounding weight of you against his thighs and your lips on his again.

And the sounds- God, the sounds he was making were enough to make you lose your mind. Every kiss, every accidental rock of your hips against his pulled the softest little moan or sigh out of him. You could feel him growing in his slacks and you wanted nothing more than to get on your knees for him, but you were going to take this slow.

You sat up a little higher in his lap and rolled your hips against his slowly, mumbling a soft, “Is this okay?”

Steven nodded immediately, mewling into the kiss. He was obviously trying to hold back his noises a little, but no matter how hard he tried they still found a way out. His hands were holding onto you just below your breasts, thumbs brushing over your ribcage every few moments.

Your lips traveled down his jaw again, stopping to nibble at his earlobe, “Do you want my shirt off, Steven?”

He groaned at the feeling and breathed out, “Please,” to which you smiled and guided your hands to the hem of your shirt, “Go ahead, baby.”

The pet name made Steven’s heart clench and he tugged your shirt over your head, laughing with you when it got caught on your head for a moment. His gaze fell to your body and he looked devastated for a moment before he leaned down to press kisses to your collarbones and the swell of your breasts, “You’re so beautiful, love.”

Weaving your fingers through his curls, you held him close to your chest, letting him explore however he wanted to. His hands were everywhere and pressed you impossibly closer to his body, trying to relieve the ache at both of your cores. You felt him grind up against you clumsily and smiled, kissing his forehead to get his attention, “Steven.”

He was lost in his suckles to your shoulder, completely enamored in watching those pretty marks bloom from your skin when he sucked and nibbled just enough.

“Steven,” you repeated and gave his hair the gentlest of tugs, to which he groaned softly, lifting his head to look at you, “Yea- um, yes, what’s up?”

You giggled and pushed a curl behind his ear, “You’re hard, baby.” Before you got a chance to continue, he was already blushing and looking anywhere but your eyes, but you kissed him to bring back, “Do you want to stop or do you want to keep going?”

He let out a deep breath, “Keep going, please.”

Smiling softly, you sat back on his thighs and played with the hem of his button down, “Can I take this off?”

He nodded immediately and his eyes flickered over every new part of you that he was seeing as you unbuttoned his shirt. You swallowed, trying to keep your arousal at bay. He was gorgeous, his body the perfect balance between muscle and softness — absolutely beautiful.

Steven’s arms, which you rarely got to see under his oversized shirts and sweaters, were big and his chest had you immediately reaching to cup his pecs. You gave them a soft squeeze as you leaned in to kiss him again, letting your hands drift over his torso, touching him everywhere you could and eventually leading lower to the buckle of his pants.

He didn’t want to stop kissing you, so he just nodded when your hands hesitated over his pants. The tips of your fingers brushed over the tent in his pants, going slow so you wouldn’t overwhelm him, but he was already sighing into the kiss. Slipping out of his lap, you settled pressed up against side, still kissing him as you started to slowly palm his growing bulge.

“Christ- You’re gonna kill me,” Steven joked against your lips and you smiled, adding a little more pressure and watching his jaw go slack.

You didn’t want to kiss him, you were too engrossed in his reactions to every new thing you were doing to him. When your hand left his crotch to squeeze and skim at his thighs, he almost lost it, “Please.. Please don’t tease.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll stop teasing,” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Can I take the rest of this off?”

He was nodding immediately, reaching down and helping you take off his slacks and boxers in one go. His length slapped up against the softness of his stomach and you let out a breath, “Fuck- Steven, you’re so pretty.”

Before he had the chance to get anxious about himself, you kissed him deeply, holding the back of his head to control the kiss now more than ever. Your free hand found his cock, wrapping around him and just holding him for a moment. He was shaking beneath you already, so you pulled out of the kiss to calm him down, “Take a breath, sweetie. I don’t want you fainting on me.”

He nuzzled his nose against yours, taking a deep breath and barely mumbling out, “Just doesn’t feel real, is all.”

The affection laced in his words made you smile and you slowly twisted your hand around him, “Just focus on how it feels, baby. Don’t think about anything else.”

Steven nodded, his face falling into the crook of your neck with a groan. You began a steady rhythm, stroking the entire length of him and tightening your hand slightly around his tip, which pulled the prettiest sound out of him.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well,” You praised him, noting how much he enjoyed that and your control over him.

He was really letting go for you, not letting any of his anxiety or work trouble get in the way of being present with you. When his hips started bucking up off the couch, you nipped at his neck, “Stay still for me, Steven.”

Immediately, he nodded and dropped his hips back down, making you practically gawk at how eager he was to follow your instructions. You tilted his head up out of your neck to look at him, giving his parted lips a soft kiss and mumbling the quietest “good boy”. Steven whimpered at your words and held his hips back from thrusting up, “I’m — shit, I’m gonna..”

You held his jaw in your hand, your thumb stroking the softness of his lower lip, “That’s okay, sweetie. Just let go.”

He kissed the tip of your thumb gently, eyes falling closed as his breath hitched and his abdomen tightened up, soft moans falling from him in a continuous stream as he came in short spurts all over his chest and your hand.

You slowed your hand to a stop once he was done and it got to be too much, smiling when you saw the way his whole body was melted into your couch. You pressed a soft kiss to his chin as he muttered his quiet “thank you”, kissing down his neck and chest to clean up his mess.

“Christ- Love, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Steven laughed.

Coming up to kiss him gently, you held his face close and he looked up into your eyes, “I- I wanna make you feel good too. Show me how, please?”

As much as you wanted to resist him and make it all about him tonight, you’d been staring at his hands for months now, watching him scan hundreds of stupid plush toys and write down all kinds of stuff for inventory. The sheer thought of his fingers inside you sent another gush of heat to your core, one you weren’t sure you could ignore for another second.

You got up off his lap and pulled the rest of your clothes off, his reaction to the new skin making it impossible to be self conscious.

“My gods, you- Even Hathor doesn’t compare to you,” Steven mumbled, pulling you back into his lap and pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to the span of your breasts. He could feel the heat of you against him now and it was making him feral, his cock already beginning to harden again.

You smiled into his hair, bathing in all of the affection he was giving you. Finding his hand on your thigh, you took it in yours and guided it to your center, gasping at the feeling of his fingers running through you. He dipped a finger just barely inside you and gathered some of your slick, bringing it up to your clit and rubbing a few hesitant circles.

Groaning into his hair, you held his hand there, encouraging him to keep going. Steven looked up from between your breasts, “Like that?“, and you nodded quickly, “Y-Yeah, just like that, baby.”

He couldn’t believe how wet you were, practically dripping down your thighs. After a minute, you reached down and guided his two fingers down a little bit, settling yourself over them until they were inside you. You wanted to scream — it was overwhelming to finally have them inside you. They were thicker and longer than yours, the callouses from turning all those book pages rubbing at you perfectly.

You hugged his shoulders, burying your face in his neck and crying out quietly at the pressure building in your stomach, “Baby- I-I want you inside. If you’re not ready, that’s okay but- fuck..”

Steven nodded quickly, “I’m ready.”

That was all you needed. You raised your hips up, giving him a chance to pull his fingers out of you while you grasped his length gently, lining yourself up with him. He gave you another nod and you sank down onto him slowly, giving him a chance to breathe through the new feeling.

When he was finally settled inside you, his lips brushed yours and you looked down at him, his brows tied together and eyes closed. He was always beautiful, but right now, with his body completely relaxed and his face screwed up in pleasure, he was the most beautiful you’d ever seen him.

Pushing that stray curl off of his forehead, you started rolling your hips slowly, reveling in the sounds he made as soon as you did. His full lips were parted in a silent moan and he was trying so hard not to buck up into you, trying to be as good possible.

Speeding up just a little bit, you leaned down and found that spot on his neck again, biting and sucking gently until a dark, possessive mark bloomed there. You wanted everyone to know that sweet, shy Steven was all yours. And you were his. The mere thought of being anyone else’s ever again didn’t make sense anymore.

Steven’s breaths were picking up quickly and he didn’t have the capacity to hold his head up anymore, letting it fall back into the couch. You brought a hand up behind his neck and pulled him back to you to kiss him.

“You can let go, baby. I’m close too, it’s okay,” you whispered and he hummed his reply, his grip on your hips tightening.

The two of you only lasted a few more thrusts before you fell over the edge, gasping from the intensity of it all. Steven held onto you, letting his head fall back again with a silent moan.

He was completely spent, his body limp on the couch below you, gasping like he had just run a marathon. You hugged his neck, rubbing your nose against his soft skin and smiling when you could feel his pulse thumping away.

“You still with me?” You joked, and he laughed tiredly below you, raising his head and nuzzling your cheek,

“Just barely.”

#karla's favs 🫀#steven grant #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant smut

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luvwanda · 2 months

Text

OH.MY.GOD

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

PART 2

Summary: After a summer away, you decide to pay a visit to your favorite mechanic. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, car sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, light nipple play, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), cock riding, rough sex, creampie, joel once again being irresistible and disgustingly sweet, light sprinkle of fluff, porn with no plot (kinda) A/N: I have zero self-restraint and couldn't stop thinking about mechanic!joel soo... you could say, it was so nice she had to come twice ;)

PART 1

It wasn’t like you were actually planning on pulling off the highway to head toward that mechanic shop… except you totally were. Summer came and went, and after a few months spent in Tallahassee, it was time to go home. You weren’t in a rush this time, though, so you could afford a quick pit stop at a small mechanic shop. Nothing needed to be fixed in your car, but maybe you’d pop a screw loose just for the hell of it.

Pulling into the familiar garage, your heart thumped in your ears as you threw the car in park and nearly ran inside. The waiting room was disappointingly empty minus a handsome man standing behind the counter…one that wasn’t Joel.

His black curls were slicked back, and with just a white tank top and flannel on, you could tell he was built just like Joel. At your sudden entrance, he glanced your way, giving the cigarette in his hand a quick flick over the ashtray on the counter he leaned on.

“Can I help you with somethin’, miss?” He asked. He had that same drawl in his voice as Joel did.

Taming down your flyaways from the humidity, you walked over to the counter with a friendly smile. You didn’t miss how his eyes did a once-over on your body.

“I was just coming through town, thought I’d stop in to say hi to Joel,” you explained.

He took another drag of his cigarette, the cherry burning at the bottom. After a long inhale, he puffed out an air of smoke, filling the space with that stinging smell of nicotine. You weren’t completely opposed to the smell, and you most definitely appreciated him blowing it to the side so that it didn’t creep up into your nose.

“Joel’s just up at the mini-mart grabbin’ some beers. M’sure he’ll be back soon,” he shrugged. “I’m Tommy by the way, his brother.”

He extended his free hand, and you met him halfway to give him a friendly handshake, introducing yourself as well. Tommy donned that same lopsided grin as Joel; it must be that Southern charm and hospitality.

“So,” he drawled. “How y’know my brother?”

You shifted your weight between legs, trying to come up with some stupid lie to explain how you did know him. Short answer: he fixed your car. Long answer: he gave you the best orgasms of your life.

“I, uh, came through town a few months ago to get my car fixed, and—.”

“Hey, Tommy! Come help me with the beers, man!” A voice shouted from the side door.

Tommy gave you an apologetic grin, rounding the corner to meet his brother outside. You leaned against the counter, drumming your fingers against it as you waited for them to reemerge. Tommy was walking back through the door moments later, a six-pack of beers in hand and Joel in tow.

“C’mon man, I told you no smokin’ in the damn shop,” Joel grumbled, smacking the back of Tommy’s head.

Tommy only laughed at his brother's annoyance, walking around the counter to give Joel a clear view of you standing there. As his eyes set on you, Joel stopped in his tracks, a wild grin splitting across his face.

“Well, would y’look at that,” he beamed. “If it ain’t my favorite customer.”

A warmth crept up your skin, your cheeks blushing at his words. He approached you, leaning against the counter to mimic your stance. He still wore that worn-down black t-shirt, the fabric thinned out and stretching over his muscles. You wondered how long those scratches stayed on the skin of his back after you both…

“Ohhhh,” Tommy interrupted, forcing your eyes to tear away from Joel’s. “You’re the girl that’s got my brother out $500!”

Snapping your head back to Joel, you smacked his bicep in embarrassment.

“You told him?!” You shrieked.

Joel doubled over in laughter, clutching the arm you had just whacked.

“Calm down, darlin’. I ain’t ever think I’d see you again! S’all in good fun.”

You buried your face in your hands, letting out a small groan. Of course, he’d tell his fucking brother about you; the girl that didn’t have any fucking money for a car and slept her way out of the debt. You could bet Tommy probably didn’t believe Joel when he told him the story, either.

“Aw, c’mon now babydoll,” Joel crooned, peeling your hands away from your face. “I ain’t meant no harm in tellin’ the story.”

“He hasn’t told another soul,” Tommy said. You glanced over to see him raise a hand in defense. “Scouts honor.”

You smack Joel again for good measure, eliciting a howling laugh from Tommy on the other side of the counter.

“Tommy, I’ll close up the shop tonight,” Joel said, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “Why don’t you head out and grab Sarah for me? M’sure I’ll be back in time for the game.”

“Fuckin’ better be,” Tommy tossed back. “Ain’t tryna lose my money to you again.”

“Seems like he needs that money,” you chimed in, rolling your eyes.

This time Joel shoved at you playfully, a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest.

“Now she’s got jokes!” He teased.

“Ha ha very funny,” Tommy said, scooping up the six-pack into his arms. “Nice meetin’ ya miss. Don’t run up your tab too high while you’re here.”

Tommy was just as good with the jabs as you were, so you threw him a quick smile and wave before he slid out the back door and disappeared. With only Joel and you left, that nervous feeling crept back in.

“Got another tire blown out or did y’miss me?” Joel teased.

“Don’t let your ego get too big, cowboy,” you said. “I’m just rollin’ back through town.”

“Pretty sure I’m big everywhere, babydoll, but y’already know that.”

Joel took a step towards you, twisting a strand of your hair through his fingers. You could see the midday sun reflecting in his brown eyes, making them sparkle the longer he stared. Your gaze flicked down to his lips, that pouty bottom one quipped up into a slight grin.

“You’re just so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You laughed.

“Sure enough to know that pretty pussy is just soakin’ your underwear right now,” he drawled.

He grabbed your hips, pinning you to his chest with an arm braced around your back. Dipping his hand between your bodies, he slid a finger over the seam of your zipper, teasing your already throbbing clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feather-like touch of his finger, your body aching for him.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he whispered in your ear.

Your breath hitched as he popped open the button on your jeans and tugged down the zipper. Slipping two fingers between your skin and underwear, he drew lazy circles over your clit, watching you with rapt attention as you tried to stifle a moan.

“Mhmm,” he crooned. “Been dreamin’ ‘bout this pussy ever since you left town, darlin’.”

“Yeah?” you exhaled, rolling your hips against his fingers as they worked faster.

“Ain’t ever had my cock so wet.” Joel pressed a kiss against your neck as his fingers slid between your wet folds and teased your entrance.

“Christ, Joel,” you exhaled. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else.”

Joel glanced around the empty waiting room and shrugged.

“No one’s here, darlin’.”

“Your shop windows are glass,” you argued. “Anyone can see us if they drive by.”

Teasing your wet folds, Joel slid a finger inside you, slowly curling it in an attempt to shut you up—which did work, unfortunately. You leaned into his broad chest, your head resting on his sternum as he continued the movement in slow strokes.

“Joel,” you whimpered, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“What, babydoll?” He asked innocently as if he didn’t fucking know what he was doing to you.

“Take me to the garage,” you breathed. “Please.”

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely, darlin’.”

Pulling his hand out of your jeans, Joel bent to scoop you up, drawing your legs around his waist to carry you out of the waiting room. You wound your arms around his neck, dipping your head down to kiss along the stubble of his jawline. His hands squeezed your ass as he walked you both through the door to the garage, situating himself at the workbench. Still positioned in his lap, you wasted no time and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed you back, his hands roaming up and down your body as you devoured one another.

“Jesus, babydoll. Y’really did miss me, huh?” he muttered against your open mouth.

“Maybe I did, cowboy.”

Grinding your hips on his lap, you felt the strain of his cock beneath the worn-out fabric of his work jeans. Joel nipped at your bottom lip, groaning as you circled your hips harder.

“Easy now, darlin’,” he warned. “Don’t wanna ruin my jeans like some middle school boy.”

You laughed and doubled down on your movements against his cock, each drag of your body forcing him to tense up. Joel’s hand came up to cup your breast through your bra, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper.

“Y’gonna be a good girl for me, babydoll?” he questioned.

You snuck a glance at his face, seeing his pupils blown wide with lust. Nodding quietly, you stilled your movements and focused on the feel of his fingers pinching your hardened nipple through the fabric. Your jaw went slack as he toyed with you, coaxing humiliating sounds from your lips with each twist.

“Hmm,” he mused, leveling you with a dangerous stare. “That's how I get you to behave, huh?”

“Joel,” you whined breathlessly.

“Use your words, babydoll.”

“I need you to fuck me,” you begged, leaning into his touch.

“Where’s those manners, darlin’?” he taunted.

Giving him the biggest pouty face you could muster, you pushed your bottom lip out and sealed the deal by batting your eyelashes at him.

“Please, cowboy?”

Joel rolled his eyes and chuckled, bringing his hand down on your ass to deliver a sharp slap. Hoisting you back up, Joel spun your body back against the wall of the garage, shoving your shirt up as he pressed you against it. He wasted no time in dragging down your bra, ravishing your skin with kisses and bites, leaving a trail of marks down your breast and sternum. You ran your hands through his curls, feeling the humidity of the air dampen them the longer you both stayed in the garage. Neither of you seemed to mind, though; you were so wrapped up in each other there was no telling of what was happening in the outside world.

He took your nipple between his teeth, biting it softly and rewarding your behavior with another trail of kisses back up your chest and neck. He mumbled a slew of curses under his breath as you mewled against his touch, his mouth hot against the underside of your jaw.

“Quite the mouth on you, cowboy,” you teased.

“Y’already know what this mouth can do, darlin’. Don’t tempt me.”

“Why don’t you remind me?” you asked, a smug grin teasing your lips.

“Fuck, babydoll,” he groaned.

Setting you back down on your feet, Joel nodded towards his black truck, silently instructing you to move. With the truck bed already down, you did a little hop and shimmy onto it, settling back against the warm metal. Joel grabbed a clean towel off his workbench and stalked towards you with a devilish grin.

“Afraid to get your truck messy?” You smirked.

“I already know you’re gonna have the entire bed of it soaked in damn near a minute,” he responded.

Letting impatience get the best of you, you worked yourself out of your jeans and underwear, slingshotting it directly at Joel’s chest as he neared the edge of the truck. Catching it with one hand, he pocketed the black lace effortlessly, offering you the towel to situate yourself onto. Sliding your body into the towel, you dropped your legs open, giving Joel a perfect view to ogle at.

“Like what you see, cowboy?” You giggled, trailing your fingers down your abdomen and towards the wetness between your thighs.

“Damn right I do, darlin’.”

Joel pressed up against the truck bed, bending over to kiss down your stomach where your hand laid against your aching clit. He brushed his lips over your fingers before drawing them into his mouth, sucking on them gently. Your breath hitched as your eyes connected, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. Joel pulled your fingers from his mouth and guided your hand through his hair.

“Give them curls a tug if y’need it, darlin’.”

Then his mouth was on you. Devouring you. Lapping at you. Every flick of his tongue sent shockwaves through your body, your veins coursing with an indescribable need to explode. Joel didn’t let up for a single second, his tongue and jaw working at you until your thighs quaked around his neck. He was pushing you closer and closer until that coil inside your stomach was ready to snap. You cried out as he flattened his tongue against your clit, putting pressure at just the right spot to make you see stars.

“Right there… oh my God, Joel,” you whispered, panting as you felt that build-up in your body begin.

With another long draw of his tongue and the brush of his nose against the sensitive bud of your clit, that coil snapped. Hot, warm liquid gushed out of you, covering the entirety of his open mouth and chin. Joel groaned as he continued lapping at you, the disgusting sound of your wet cunt drowning out the heartbeat thudding in your ears. Aftershocks of your orgasm coursed through you, your body pulsing with pleasure with each press of his mouth against you.

You tugged at his curls as he instructed, and Joel lifted his face to reveal what a dripping mess he had become. Your cheeks reddened at the sight of his hooded eyes and wild smile; the look of sheer bliss painting his features. Exhaling, you sagged against the metal of the truck, your chest rising and falling as you tried to regain some semblance of control.

“God, I sure did miss this pussy,” Joel hummed, nudging his nose against your dripping cunt.

You squirmed against his face, too afraid another orgasm would surge through you and drench him again—which he obviously wouldn’t be opposed to. But you needed his cock buried inside you, now.

“Joel, climb up here,” you said, patting the metal beside you.

“What if I ain’t ready yet?” he argued, kissing the inside of your thighs.

“Joel,” you demanded.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed. “Don’t get all impatient on me now, darlin’.”

Hauling himself onto the truck bed, he crawled over your limp body, kissing up the side of your neck. Using what little strength you had left, you maneuvered yourself over him, flipping you both until you straddled his lap. Joel’s hands came up to your bare hips, his thick fingers squeezing and kneading the supple flesh as you rolled against his hardened cock.

“Gonna let me ride you, cowboy?” You asked.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back. “Boutta be the best ride of my goddamn life.”

Giving him a wink, you hurried to undo his belt and jeans, letting his cock spring free. Christ, you forgot how big it was. Joel chuckled at the way you stalled a moment, bucking his hips upwards in an attempt to get you moving.

“Calm down, cowboy,” you warned. “I’m gettin’ there.”

Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you positioned it at your entrance, slowly sinking down until your clit brushed against the curls at the base. Even dripping wet, you were forced to stretch around him, the fullness leaving you breathless for a moment.

“Y’look so pretty like that, babydoll. S’fuckin full of me,” Joel hummed.

You whimpered at his words, moving your hips up and down finding the right tempo that sent you both into oblivion. The press of your knees against the metal wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but you could ignore it so long as he enjoyed himself. You picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down as you forced his cock deeper inside you. Joel’s jaw went slack as he watched you, enraptured with the way you moved above him. Your bodies slapped together with each drop of your hips, and his fingers flexed against your waist as he pushed and pulled your body until you were grinding against him.

“There ya’ go, babydoll,” Joel murmured. “Feel how deep I am?”

You only gave him a pathetic moan, letting his hands guide your body as you pulsed around his cock. You were so fucking full, the tip of his cock spearing up into you with each drag of your hips. Snaking a hand down your body, your fingers found your clit, drawing desperate circles as you tried to chase the orgasm threading through your muscles.

“Fuck,” Joel groaned. “You’re just desperate to cum again, huh?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whined, putting more pressure on your clit as he drove himself deeper.

“S’fuckin’ pretty like that,” Joel exhaled. “Gonna drench me again, huh? Let’s see it, babydoll, cover me with it.”

Your mouth opened with a soundless cry, your cunt flexing around his cock as another orgasm ruptured through you, soaking your thighs and seeping into his jeans. Hauling you down against his chest, Joel positioned his knees upward, pistoning his hips against yours at a violent pace.

“Fuck!!” You sobbed as more liquid gushed out of you, the strength of your orgasm amplified at this angle.

“Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, c’mon,” Joel praised, his lips pressed against your ear. “Keep goin’, babydoll. I know y’can give me more.”

“I—I can’t!” You stammered.

Your orgasm wouldn’t let up, though. Joel’s cock drove into you with such force, that you continued soaking him over and over again despite your wailing protests. Joel continued praising you and talking you through each ripple of your orgasm, hushing you as you cried harder.

“Just like that, babydoll. Shh… Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Joel kept a brutal pace, wrecking into you as he chased his own release. His hips snapped up one final time before he was spilling into you with a choked groan falling from his lips.

Falling limp against his body, you stared at the sides of the truck bed with glazed eyes. Tremors still wracked through your body as you settled into his embrace, his hand rubbing soft circles over your shoulders. Craning his head to the side, Joel captured your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue dancing over yours slow and sweet.

“Doin’ alright, babydoll?” he asked, breaking away from your lips.

You nodded mindlessly, too blissed out to form words. Nestled into his body, you let your fingers wander up his bicep and over his shoulder. Joel placed a soft kiss at the crown of your head, his muffled words lost in your hair.

“Hmm?” You asked.

“S’nothing,” he whispered. “Just enjoyed the ride, that’s all.”

You rested your head on his sternum, giving him a questioning look.

“Sounded like you said something else,” you said, cocking a brow.

Joel huffed a laugh, his head falling back against the metal with a soft thud.

“I don’t know, darlin’. Guess I kinda like you.”

“Guess I kinda like you too, cowboy.”

Rolling off of him, you situated yourself against the side of the truck bed, resting your legs over his stomach. Joel’s hand kneaded into the tight muscles of your calves, working at the knots in your legs. His head leaned to the side to catch a glimpse at you, a smile breaking across his face.

“How long are y’staying in town?” he asked.

“I was only passing through,” you sighed.

His smile faltered a moment, that glimmer of hope flickering out in his eyes. Suddenly, the thought of leaving didn’t sound so nice.

“Why don’t y’stay the night?” he offered. “Got myself a big enough bed to sleep in, babydoll.”

“How much is it gonna cost me?” You teased, rubbing your foot over the softest part of his lower stomach.

“I’m thinkin’ a good blowjob,” he mused.

“Whatever you want, cowboy. Count me in.”

You spent a few moments in harmonious silence, basking in the circumstances’ simplicity. After a while, you found yourself climbing off the truck in search of your jeans and underwear. Joel worked his way down, too, stuffing his cock back into his pants and gathering the damp towel off the truck bed.

“You still have my underwear,” you grumbled, shaking out your jeans to slide into.

“And I’m gonna keep ‘em, darlin’,” Joel said, grabbing you by the waist to reel you in for a kiss. “Need me a lil’ souvenir.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you chuckled.

Foregoing underwear, you stuffed yourself back into your jeans and followed Joel to the passenger side of the truck, where he had the door already propped open for you. Helping you in, he reached over to secure your seatbelt, kissing your cheek softly before shutting the door and walking to the driver's side.

Turning the key in the ignition, Joel glanced over at you, his eyes roaming over your messy hair and rosy cheeks.

“Y’sure are beautiful, babydoll. Wish I could keep ya here,” he sighed.

You rested your chin in your hand, leaning over the center console.

“I don’t know, cowboy. Your negotiating skills are pretty damn good. Might talk me into staying with all those sweet words.”

“Oh yeah?” he perked up. “Y’know you still got a hefty bill to pay off.”

“Shit, you’re right,” you agreed. “I might have to stay a while to settle that debt.”

Joel cracked a smile, lifting up the console to haul you closer to him. Backing out of the garage, he navigated the truck onto the main road and towards wherever home was for him. Settling into his side, your fingers danced over the zipper of his pants as you waged your brows at him.

“Think I should start paying off that debt now?” You asked.

“I ain’t arguing with that, babydoll,” Joel grinned.

#karla's favs 🫀#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #smut

1K notes · View notes

luvwanda · 2 months

Text

same Margot same 🥺

RYAN GOSLING and MARGOT ROBBIE react to Pedro Pascal's SAG Win

#pedro pascal #margot robbie #sag awards 2024 #pedrohub

15K notes · View notes

luvwanda · 3 months

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my new favorite fic

Joel Miller x Reader Masterlist

Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve Series

Series Summary: “You’re a crisis of my faith.” A slow burn/enemies to friends to lovers story set in Jackson post-season 1. Reader is new to Jackson and forms a bond with Joel. Feelings develop but reader is hesitant to get mixed up with an older man after having had a bad experience dating beyond her age in the past.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 (Maybe coming soon? Idk yet)

#karla's favs 🫀#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedrohub

472 notes · View notes

luvwanda · 3 months

Text

where can I get my Frankie??? this was soooo sweet 😭

Talk Me Down

A fic requested by @anotherpedrolover

I was gonna wait until Frankie Friday (tomorrow) to post this, but this sweet human being has already waited like 2 months for me to finish this, lol, so here you go! I was asked to write a fic about insecure!Frankie who has some self-esteem/body image issues but after being with Reader (who is very appreciative of his body) he gets into it and develops a bit of a praise kink for it but but he hits a rough patch and gets into a dark place, feeling very undeserving of the love and attention Reader gives him. The person who made the request asked me to focus on his feelings and emotions when he is feeling bad and insecure (and specifically asked for some tears to be shed, lol) so I did my best to beat the crap out of Frankie (emotionally).

I hope this is somewhat what they had in mind and that they like it :) I've never really written anything like this (PWP queen over here) so I hope I got it right and didn't make Frankie too OOC. Hope you all enjoy it!

Page dividers provided by the gracious and talented @saradika-graphics

Ao3 link

My Masterlist Word Count: 9.8k Fandom: Triple Frontier (Frankie Morales x f!Reader) Notes: Pre/No TF Mission. Fic title is from the song of the same name by Troye Sivan. Warnings: 🔞 18+MDNI. Angst. Drama. Body Insecurity/Self-esteem issues. Praise Kink. Smut (pretty tame and not a lot, considering its me lol, but its there). Sad!Frankie. Mid-Life-Crisis!Frankie. Emotional hurt/comfort. Eventual happy ending. Established Relationship. No use of y/n. No physical description of Reader.

“Babe, have you seen my -“ you cut yourself off mid sentence as you turn the corner and your eyes land on your boyfriend, leisurely sprawled on the couch with his legs up on the ottoman, ankles crossed over each other and television remote firmly in hand while a baseball game plays in the background.

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Frankie asks, incredulous.

“We have to be at Will and Benny’s in like…” you pause to look at your watch. “Fifteen minutes! And what is that… are you eating the potato salad I made?”

“Was I not supposed to?” Frankie responds, forkful halfway to his mouth again already.

“Oh my god” You shake your head. You literally can’t with him today. You made that for the barbecue pool party today and now it was nearly half gone.

“Nevermind, let’s just go” you huff. You’re not in a great mood and maybe you’re being a little bitchier than usual thanks to this god awful heatwave but Frankie wasn’t helping matters any.

“I’ll be in the car” you grumble towards his general direction as you head out the front door. At least there’s A/C in the Jeep.

Surprisingly he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He’s shoving his slides on his feet as he hops down the front steps only a minute or so later and then jumps into the driver’s seat next to you, buckling his seatbelt and the two of you head out of the driveway.

“See, plenty of time” He grins at you when you pull up to the outside of your friends house a short while later with actually a few minutes to spare before your requested arrival time. You had attempted to stay mad at him, neither of you speaking more than one or two words the entire drive but now with that stupidly adorable smirk on his face you have no choice but to want to kiss it off of him. Despite your best efforts, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“There it is” his grin widens as he brings a hand up to pinch at your cheek and you playfully swat him away, trying and failing to hold back a little laugh.

“Baby I don’t know what you think we’re gonna miss anyway. It’s my birthday party. They literally can’t start without me”

“Francisco Morales, you’re going to be late to your own funeral, you know that don’t you?” You shake your head at him but the smile hasn’t left your lips.

“Oh baby we’re gonna be real late if you keep that ‘Francisco’ talk up” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you and reaching over the center console to grab a handful of your upper thigh. “Maybe we skip the party all together, you give me my birthday present early, hmm?”

“Get out of the car you perv!” You laugh, giving him a playful shove. “Are you sure you’re turning 40 and not 14?”

“All right, all right I’ll behave” He sighs, hands up in the air to signal his defeat.

You’re glad he seems like he’s in a better mood so far today. He’s been a little off the last couple of days and you can’t say why. You’ve asked a few times if something was bothering him but he kept shrugging you off, insisting everything was fine. You chalked it up to maybe just work stress and are hoping now that the weekend is here that he’ll be able to just relax and have a great time with his friends.

Despite you being early, the party is actually in full swing on your arrival. You and Frankie let yourselves in through the back gate where the backyard is filled with several of Frankie’s (and now yours, you supposed) friends milling about. The ones you recognize immediately are his old military unit; Santiago, Benny, Will and Tom, as well as Will’s girlfriend and Tom’s wife. There are a few other people around you’ve definitely met before but can’t place all of them. Either way, you’re glad to see so many people have shown up for Frankie on his big day.

The space is decorated too with balloons everywhere, a giant banner that reads “Happy Birthday Fish!” and a big poster board is taped up against the side of the house as soon as you walk in that has pictures of Frankie and his family and friends all over it with the title “40 Years In The Making” written at the top in huge block lettering. You and Frankie both take a moment to look over the board before anyone deeper inside the yard notices you yet. There are a bunch of photos from his younger military days and even a few from when he was just a boy that have you gushing over him, telling Frankie how adorable he was and pinching his cheek for good measure. You spot a couple of pictures of Frankie having fallen asleep at a party (something he’s been known to do) with his signature ball cap pulled down over his face and beer bottle loosely gripped in his hand and those give you both a good laugh. There’s two photos of you and him together, you notice, and your personal favourite picture of Frankie - him flying his helicopter wearing a pair of Aviators, looking so sexy it makes you melt each time you see it.

You safely assume the wife and girlfriends of Frankie’s closest pals were mostly to thank for the decorating. If it were up to the boys there would be a folded table in the middle of the backyard with a pack of cards and a cooler full of beer and that would be it.

“There he is!” Benny shouts across the yard the moment he spots you both just inside the gate. He dashes across the patio and throws his arms around Frankie, nearly knocking him over in the process before landing a few hard slaps to his back. “Happy birthday ya old fuck” he teases, grabbing on to Frankie’s shoulder and jostling him slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be your turn soon enough” Frankie reminds him but Benny just shrugs.

“Always be younger than you though” he winks and that earns him a little shove from Frankie.

The rest of the greetings go more or less the same way, playful teasing or ribbing on Frankie for turning the big “4-0”. It gets old quickly but if it bothers Frankie he doesn’t let it show, just takes it in stride as he makes his way through the small crowd and says his hello’s.

By the time you get home much later that night you’re exhausted. It’s late and the day had been long (and hot in that blistering sun). Add to that you’re sober whereas everyone around you had been thoroughly wasted which made the night seem to drag on even longer. You wanted Frankie to have a great time, it was his birthday after all, so you offered to drive you both tonight and somehow that had turned into you offering to be an Uber driver for half the party so instead of it taking ten minutes to get home it had taken an hour.

“I’m beat” you announce through a long drawn out yawn, stretching tired limbs over your head. “You wanna come to bed with me, birthday boy?” You ask playfully, walking up to Frankie and looping your fingers through the belt loops of his tan cargo shorts to tug him a little closer, hoping he catches on that you’re not that tired.

“Think I’m gonna shower, I hate smelling like chlorine” he complains, gently taking your hands and removing them from his waist. “You go on, I won’t be long” he promises before leaning forward and planting a kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” you whine, a masterful pout displayed on your lips. “C’mon upstairs with me, while it’s still your birthday” you try seductively, hand reaching out to brush over the outside of his pants at his crotch.

“I said I want to shower” Frankie replies back, a little too curtly for your liking and his tone leaving no room for argument as he pushes your hand away a second time. You frown and the huff of disappointment you breathe out doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“Baby come on, I’m sorry. I just don’t wanna go to bed smelling like chemicals. Go on up to bed, I’ll be right behind you” he says with finality and gives your hand a little squeeze before dropping it and heading off to the bathroom.

You sigh but let him go. Truthfully you’d been trying to drag him out of the party for hours, desperate to get him alone and all to yourself. You don’t know what’s come over you today but you felt downright needy for him, your hormones just off the charts and now he’s making you wait even longer when all you want to do is rip his clothes off and show him exactly how glad you are that he was born forty years ago today and by some cosmic twist of fate found his way into your life.

Once in the bedroom and settled into bed you hear the spray of water come to life in the bathroom down the hall and your mind can’t help but drift and think about Frankie, naked and in the shower. How the water is cascading down his broad shoulders to his soft tummy and strong, thick legs and a heat floods your body, going straight to the lower part of your abdomen. You loved his body and you weren’t shy about telling him either. You remember back to when you’d first started dating, the early stages of your intimate relationship. He was so shy around you at first, always insisting the lights be off or even leaving his t-shirt on when you’d have sex. It was all a mystery to you, how someone as gorgeous as Frankie could have self-esteem issues but you loved to remind him how crazy he drove you and how perfect he was in your eyes.

At first he got so embarrassed at your borderline worship of his body, refused to even believe you in the beginning but he warmed up eventually to the point where he loved it. Craved it, even, your praise of him. Though he’d never admitted to it out loud and always remained a little bashful about it, you could tell. Frankie was already a very generous, selfless and enthusiastic lover, but when you really got vocal with him (or better yet let your tongue and hands do the talking) of how much you enjoyed every part of his physical anatomy, Frankie could get downright animalistic with you and it brought the already amazing sex to a whole new level for you both. You had definitely uncovered a little praise-kink in your boyfriend that you don’t think he even knew existed in himself and honestly no sexual relationship you’ve had in the past could ever hold a candle to the one you and Frankie have created together.

You plan on using every weapon in your arsenal on him tonight to truly wish him a happy birthday he won’t soon forget. You’ll caress, kiss and lick your way from his prominent neck vein, his broad chest with just the lightest smattering of golden brown hair, take more than enough time for your tongue to appreciate each of his small dusty pink nipples before you continue down his sternum to where he gets a little softer. You’ll playfully nip and suck at the small expanse of flesh at his belly that protrudes just barely over his waistline, making sure to let him know with words how gorgeous he is, how hot he makes you, how he’s all yours. You just hope you get to have your fill before he takes his own. It had taken you a while to get Frankie to allow you to appreciate him the way you wanted to. He was always insistent on your pleasure and he still is to this day, but you’ve managed to strike a fairly delicate balance now for the most part, though you’ll admit there are days where Frankie comes home and he just needs you. You’ve come to recognize it on him and you’re glad to give him the reins when that happens, knowing that he’ll allow you to do the same when you need it. When you said Frankie was a generous lover you weren’t exaggerating. That man would spend hours with his face buried between your legs if you’d let him, and sometimes you’d let him do just that. But tonight was for him and tonight you need him. Need to show him how in love with him you are in a way that words just can’t do.

You have to press your thighs together just at the thought of him in the shower now, hoping he won’t be long so you can hopefully pull him out of this weird mood he’d been in most of the day. It started not long after you got to Will and Benny’s. Just silly, little things that just seemed to set him off to the point where he’d either pick a fight with you (or whoever else he happened to be talking to) or just get overly quiet and wander off by himself. You think back trying to think what could’ve started it all. He’d gone into the party in a good enough mood but soon after he started acting weird. The two of you barely fought, like ever, and here you were today in front of all your friends getting into a yelling match with each other about goddamn sunscreen of all things. And it wasn’t just you, he seemed overly quiet today around everyone, even his best friends who were more like brothers to him than anything and none of it made sense to you, you just hope now that he was home maybe he’d get out of his funk.

Your mind doesn’t have any longer to dwell however because Frankie emerges from the bathroom and into the bedroom, already changed into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Your tongue absent-mindedly peeks out to swipe across your bottom lip at the way the wet curls stick to his forehead or how tiny droplets of water soak through the thin cotton of his dark gray t-shirt because he didn’t quite dry himself all the way off before tugging it over his head.

Not that it matters, you don’t plan on him wearing it long anyway.

“Finally” you smile at him from your spot on the bed and shuffle back slightly to pat down on the space next to you on the mattress. You pull back the bed covers to reveal that you’re wearing next to nothing, A black lacy bra and matching panties that really left nothing to the imagination. It was Frankie’s favourite on you.

“You didn’t have to wait up” Frankie says casually, looking down as he unfastens his watch from his wrist to toss it on the nightstand. If he notices your state of nearly undress during his brief glance in your direction he doesn’t say anything or even react. “Thought you were tired” he adds, feigning concern for your sleep habits.

“Read between the lines Morales, was just trying to get you into bed” you tease, sticking the tip of your tongue out at him playfully. He says nothing in response, just flips off the light and crawls in next to you but to your surprise just throws the comforter over you both and turns on his side and faces away from you as he scrunches up his pillow under his head until he’s comfortable and settles.

You frown, not that he can see you, but shuffle over to him anyway so you’re pressed up against his back and your arm slings around his waist. You stay still for a minute, waiting to see if he’ll take your less than subtle hint that you’re “not tired” but he just lays there, unmoving, and so you decide it’s time to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

Your hand slips under the hem of his shirt to rest on his soft belly and begins to gently explore. Fingertips dancing along the smooth skin and sparse little body hairs and moving over to his hip where you grab onto the small bit of extra skin there and massage his side but before you can go any further he’s grabbing your hand and pushing it out from under his shirt. He brings it to rest on top of his chest over the thin cotton of his t-shirt and just holds his hand over top of yours.

“Baby?” You breathe out into the blackness of the room, worry evident in your tone. Was he angry at you for something else now? You hadn’t even done anything for him to be mad at you about, you’ve been in bed the whole time.

“Sorry, I’m just tired” he mumbles into the pillow but you’re not buying it. Frankie was a bit of a night owl, not to mention it was a Saturday night, neither of you had work in the morning and the two of you always made sure to make the most of your weekend nights together when you could really take the time to make love the way you craved to all week.

“Hey,” you call out softly, grabbing for his shoulder and pulling it towards you so he’ll turn to face you. He lets you, turning halfway to you, onto his back and craning his neck to face you.

“Is everything okay? Are you mad at me or something?” You ask genuinely concerned. You try not to make it sound like you’re pouting because you’re not, you just need to know what’s going on with him. Maybe he’s upset about something, or maybe just a little too drunk to actively participate the way he thinks he should but you wouldn’t mind too much if he was, you certainly don’t mind taking care of him and you know he’ll more than make it up to you the next time.

He lets out a sigh and tiredly rubs at his eyes.

“Of course not. Come here, I’m sorry” he sighs once more and lifts his arm closest to you so you can snuggle into him, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm drapes across his middle again. He tilts his head down slightly to kiss the top of your hair but otherwise makes no moves to initiate anything further physically with you, just holds you tightly to his body.

“Are you really tired?” You ask quietly, turning your face slightly to nuzzle into his neck and plant little kisses there. You feel the little shudder that runs through his body and a smile pulls at your lips.

Maybe he wasn’t mad at you.

“I haven’t given you your present yet” you breathe into the warm flesh of his throat, tongue darting out to give a tentative little lick to the underside of his jaw and he rewards you with the slightest little moan, but it’s enough that you heard it and it encourages you to continue.

You begin to kiss and lick your way down the column of his throat while your hand leaves his chest to come down and gently palm him over his boxers and he instinctively thrusts his hips into your touch and you moan into his skin. You can feel him beginning to swell under your touch already.

“Mmm, can I take you out?” You murmur against his collarbone and he nods his head.

“Yeah,” he lets out in a breathy whisper and brings his own free hand down to help you shove his boxers down his thighs until he’s able to kick out of them.

Your hand wraps around his impressive length the moment he’s free from the confines of his underwear, slowly pumping him with practiced strokes and it’s not long until he’s fully hard in your hand and quietly grunting and groaning, your face buried in the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. You hate that his shirt is still on, your mouth not able to reach all the places it desperately wants to.

Your hand leaves him for a moment as you push yourself up onto your knees and swing one leg over him so you're straddling his hips, your hands resting on his chest overtop of the soft worn cotton.

“You can be tired baby, let me all do the work” you coo, leaning down to place another kiss to his jaw as you slowly grind your pelvis into his. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just too tired or drunk to have the full cognitive function he needed but that was fine by you, tonight was for him anyways.

“Shit,” he groans, hands sliding under the back of your panties to grope the globes of your ass in his two large hands and he presses you down even harder against his groin just as he thrusts his hips upwards, the delicious friction causing a moan to escape your lips.

“Mmm, you feel so good” you whimper against his heated flesh as you nuzzle the underside of his jaw and into his throat.

“Take these off” Frankie practically growls, impatiently shoving your underwear down and with his help you manage to wiggle free of them. You both moan in unison when your lower halves press together again, this time with no barriers between you as his throbbing member slides through your slick folds with every calculated thrust of your hips against him.

“Baby you make me so wet” you giggle, hands roaming his hard chest and broad shoulders. “God you’re so hot” you praise, mouth latching back onto his neck as you trail hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat until you reach the collar of his t-shirt.

“Off” you gently demand, hands going to the bottom of his tee and beginning to push it upwards. You need to feel all of him, his warm skin on yours. Need to lick and kiss and touch every inch of him. “Let me touch you”

“Mnnmm mnmm” he shakes his head and without warning suddenly flips you both with practiced ease until you’re underneath him flat on your back and he’s on hands and knees looming over you. He grabs your wrists and hauls them up above your head, bringing them together so he’s able to hold them down with one hand against the top of the mattress so he can have one free and you giggle up at him.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re supposed to be tired, old man” you tease him but there’s no mirth in his eyes after he hears your words, no lingering smile on his lips. There’s desire, sure, but something else on his features. Subtle, whatever it is, but it’s there.

“Do you wanna fuck or not? Jesus,” he snaps. “I can’t do anything fucking right”

Oh, and there it is. It’s anger.

Your face scrunches up at his little outburst. That was not like Frankie at all. Not your sweet, loving, caring Frankie who adored you, this was someone else, someone you didn’t recognize.

“Get off me” you huff, easily wiggling your wrists free as he wasn’t holding too tightly and you bring your hands up to shove at his chest. His yelling at you instantly taking you out of the mood.

He does, immediately. He rolls off of you, grabs for his discarded boxers near the bottom of the bed and shoves them on. You do the same with your own underwear and also pull the sheet up to cover yourself, not wanting to feel any more vulnerable in front of him than you already do.

You have no idea what in the fuck that was all about, snapping at you like that when you thought everything was going rather well. He really was in a mood today apparently, and you didn’t care for it one bit. You’re already feeling overly emotional today, your period must be just around the corner or something.

The room falls silent. Frankie sits on the edge of the side of the bed, hands on his thighs and head hanging low while you lay back against the headboard, fingers twisting into the sheets, holding them around you like a shield. Tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall but you quickly blink them away before you bury your head in your knees.

“Do you want me to sleep downstairs?” He asks softly, the gruffness gone from his voice now. He sounds almost apologetic, though he’s still yet to apologize. He's not looking at you either, but your grateful for that at this moment.

You say nothing. Not trusting your voice just yet but the tiniest sniffle from your nose is near deafening in the stillness of the room. You quickly clear your throat in an attempt to cover the sound but it’s too late. Frankie’s head whips around back in your direction and he’s suddenly scrambling up the bed to wrap his arms around your lower back. Your legs lower instinctively to let him in and he lies over top of you with his head resting on your middle.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he breathes out, voice muffled by the thin layer of the bed sheet as he buries his face into your stomach. “I’m an asshole”

“You’re not” you sigh. “Just - tell me what’s going on with you” you say calmly, hands now petting through his hair.

“Nothin’” he grumbles into your tummy.

“It’s not nothing, come on,” you try, a little softer this time. “You can tell me anything, you know I love you no matter what”

“Why?”

It's so quiet, so soft, mumbled against you that your ears almost didn’t even pick it up. Your heart breaks a little at the single uttered syllable.

“Hey,” you frown, grabbing both sides of his face in your hands and forcing him to look up at you. “Are you seriously asking why I love you? Where’s this coming from?” You ask, concerned. He’s been known to get down on himself from time to time but you’ve never seen him like this and it worries you.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rolls off of you, crawling up the bed to lay on his back next to you and rubs his hands over his face.

“Baby, talk to me” you press, turning to your side and curling up to his larger frame, hand stretching out to rest on his chest as your fingers play absently with the soft material of his t-shirt. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, 40 happened” he groans, hand doing a sweeping motion down his body. “I mean, look at this” he shakes his head.

“Oh baby trust me, I look at this every day” you counter, an appreciative smile playing on your lips as your hand gently rubs into his chest.

“This perfect,” you pause to press a kiss into his cheek. “Sexy,” another kiss to his jaw. “Man of my dreams”

“Stop” he huffs, gently pushing you away. “Just don’t… say shit like that. It’s not true” he argues, flipping over onto his side to face away from you.

You know when to push him and when not to, and now is not one of those times. You’ll let him have his moment, knowing if you get too in his face about it he’s likely just going to shut down and you need him to be open with you if you’re going to get anywhere. So instead you just leave him be, but stay nestled into his side, your hand rubbing small circles into his back and shoulder blades, just a soft gesture to let him know you’re here and not going anywhere.

Long minutes pass and after a while you think maybe he’s fallen asleep, until you hear it. It’s barely audible, but it’s there. The tiniest whimper falls from his lips, followed by a quiet little sniffle before he buries his face into a pillow in an attempt to cover it up and your whole heart breaks in two.

“Frankie, baby” you soothe, pulling on his shoulder and forcing him to turn towards you. Surprisingly he doesn’t fight it, just lets you roll him over and he instantly buries his face in your neck once he’s facing you, unable to look you in the eyes. But you don’t need to see him, you can feel the hot tears on his cheeks as he presses into you and you wrap your arms around his shoulders a little tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head as he lets his emotions out.

“I love you, ok?” You whisper against his chocolate brown curls, your lips pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He says nothing, just nods his head against you that he knows you love him and he knows he’s being oversensitive but he just can’t help it.

“I wish you could see what I see” you murmur against him, still hugging him tightly to your body.

Franky gently pushes back from you slightly, quickly wiping at his eyes and collecting himself before his red-rimmed gaze settles on yours.

“I’m sorry I’m in a shit mood and taking it out on you, it’s not fair and you don’t deserve it” he apologizes, shaking his head slightly. “I’m just feeling down on myself I guess and I dragged you into it and I’m sorry”

“Is that what’s been going on all day?” You ask, genuinely curious. You’re starting to piece it together now, all the teasing he’s put up with all day, how he only seemed to be snapping at you when you complimented him or tried to take off his shirt tonight. Not to mention all his friends running around half naked in just their swim trunks all afternoon, most of whom kept themselves in very tip top shape. Maybe Frankie had grown a little softer since the two of you have been together but you loved it on him, his ‘dad bod’ physique. He has nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, as far as you’re concerned. But you suppose it’s hard not to feel self conscious when standing next to a shirtless Will, Benny or Santiago who all look like they could be models in some sort of hot firefighter calendar or something. None of them did anything for you though, Frankie would always hold your heart and your gaze, no matter who he was standing next to.

“I guess” Frankie sighs, fingers now picking at an imaginary thread on the blanket underneath you. “Sometimes I just wonder…” he trails off again and you frown.

“Wonder what?”

“Wonder what in the hell you’re doin’ with me” he sighs, throwing his hands up. “I’m a fuck-up. Forty years old and what have I accomplished in my life? I have a shit job, working for an asshole I can’t stand, flying tourists around and giving private lessons on the side to rich jerkoffs who don’t give a shit about learning anything about flying, just want a cool photo for their Instagram. Since I left the service I just feel like… Like I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing with my life anymore so I just haven’t done fucking anything. And you… god knows why you give me the time of day but you do and I just don’t ever feel like I’m enough. Least I could fucking do for you is go to the gym and take care of myself, god knows I need to eat healthier” He shakes his head and you’re unsure for a moment if he’s done beating himself up but before you even have a chance to articulate a response he starts up again.

“Like look at this!” He shouts suddenly, voice raised much higher than moments earlier as he rips his shirt off his head and sweeps his hand down his front. “How can you be in love with this, with someone who looks like this?! I… fuck’”

He doesn’t get any more words out, his hands flying to his face to hide his shame as he starts sobbing with how much hatred he apparently holds for himself and you can’t take it. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around him and holding him as tightly to your body as possible. Thankfully he doesn’t push you away, just grabs onto you like you're his only lifeline, clinging to you with desperation.

“Frankie, my love, oh Frankie” you’re in tears now too, holding onto him for dear life so he can’t slip away from you. You won’t let him. Not this time.

You crawl into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist and arms still around his neck like a needy spider monkey.

“I love you, so fucking much” you clarify, because you need him to hear you. “I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable. I know I can get carried away sometimes but I guess I just thought you were okay with it, thought we were both into it. But I’ve never lied to you when I tell you how I feel about you or your body. Do you hear me, Francisco?” You ask and after a moment he nods his head just slightly, just once.

“I am crazy about you, whether you believe it or understand it. But if it makes you uncomfortable when I express my physical attraction to you the way that I do, then I'll stop. Or, you know, try to. Sometimes in the heat of the moment it might just come out but you can remind me and I swear I'll do my best. Just tell me what you need from me baby, whatever it is I’ll give it to you. I can’t lose you Frankie, I can’t!” Your tears flow even harder and Frankie’s grip around you tightens at your words.

“I know, I know” he murmurs softly. “Too fucking good for me” he reiterates quietly, but not in an argumentative way like he’d meant it earlier, more like he can’t believe you put up with his shit but he’s so glad that you do. You think maybe your words have sunk in because he's not arguing with you anymore, not berating himself, just absorbing everything. You decide to leave it be for now. You've said your peace, now you can only hope he'll believe your words and take everything you've said into consideration to fend off whatever demons are feasting inside of him. All you want is his happiness and you know that you can't be the one to solely give that to him, that he needs to find it within himself as well, but you're damn sure willing and hoping that he'll take the support you give him and that he'll let you be there at his side to continue to take on this journey of life together. If he wants to find a new job, or a new career even, you'd support him through that in every way you can. You'll do whatever is in your power to get him through this and you just hope now that he knows that.

You hold each other for several minutes, neither of you saying anything further, just taking whatever comfort you have left to offer one another. You don't push him for any more communication, assuming if he's not speaking it's because his thoughts are still a little all over the place and he still hasn't quite worked it all out for himself. He'll talk about it again when he's ready and whether that's tonight or tomorrow or next month, you'll wait for him. He's worth the wait, there's no doubt in your mind about that.

After a while Frankie shifts you both until he’s lied down on his back on the bed with you half draped over top of him and eventually sleep overcomes the tears and emotions and your breathing evens out as you both drift off within minutes of lying down, the full events of the day finally taking its toll on your weary bodies.

When you wake again the sun hasn’t quite risen to the sky but you know it’s only minutes away, not hours. You feel like you didn’t sleep at all. Your head is pounding like you’re the one who finished a gallon of tequila last night, not your boyfriend and his friends. Frankie is beside you, though you’ve more or less switched positions. You’re fully on your back with Frankie’s arm draped across your middle, his face buried into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder and he snores softly. You’re glad he’s sleeping peacefully, god knows he needs it. You carefully extract yourself from him, needing to get up and use the bathroom, tossing on a pair of shorts and a tank top. As you pad across the plush carpeting and out to the hallway your mind spins a hundred different directions as you think about yesterday, about last night. You were both highly emotional but truth be told you’ve felt off for weeks. More tired. Bitchy. And you know you’ve been taking it out on Frankie even when he’s the last person that deserves it and who knows, maybe he thought you’ve been trying to push away from him and last night he just tried to do it himself before you got the chance to and he let his insecurities get the better of him. Of course that wasn’t your intention, you’ve never felt for anyone the way you feel about him and you meant every word last night when you told him you can’t lose him. You’ve just been a mess lately and you can’t really explain it other than you know it’s nothing to do with Frankie and certainly not his fault, he just takes the brunt of your ‘crazy’ because he’s the closest person to you. You don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you unless…

Shit.

You practically sprint the rest of the way to the bathroom down the hall, tossing open drawers and cupboards and medicine cabinets in a flurry as you look for that precious little white stick that might explain a whole hell of a lot that’s been going on with you.

“Hey” you softly call out from the doorway of the bedroom, leaning up against it with a large glass of water in hand. Frankie slowly stirs. He’s on his stomach now and raises his head to look at you through sleep-bleared eyes, wayward curls falling across his forehead.

“Hey” he rasps out, voice no doubt shot from all the talking and yelling and crying from last night.

This is what the water was for.

You cross the room and he immediately throws the blanket open, inviting you into his warm cocoon as he slightly sits up against the headboard. You hand him the water as you settle in next to his large warm frame and he chugs the entire glass in record time.

“Ah, thank you, I needed that” he says, clearing his throat and then reaching past you to place the glass on the nightstand before he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur into his chest, hand coming up to draw small shapes against his clavicle.

“Like a bit of a first class idiot, if I’m bein’ honest” he sighs and you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter.

“Don’t, babe” you tut, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You were feeling a lot yesterday and it obviously needed to come out. I’m glad it did. We need to be honest with each other, you know?” You tell him, tilting your head to look up at his face. He flashes the tiniest smile at you and leans down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose before you settle back against his chest.

“Some of the things I said last night though, I didn’t even mean. Not really…” he trails off, shaking his head like he’s trying to get his thoughts in order.

You push back from him slightly and up into a sitting position and turn to face him so the two of you can have a real conversation.

“Like what?”

He shrugs shyly and looks away, fingers fidgeting with the blanket around his waist. You hear a mumbled ‘dunno’ fall from his lips. You have a pretty good idea what he’s getting at but know that he’s too embarrassed to say it himself so you help him out, scooting a little closer and placing a hand on his naked chest before you let it slowly drift lower, fingertips dancing across his warm soft flesh and his eyes close and he lets out a content little sigh as he feels your hands on his body again.

“Last night I thought that maybe… I sometimes make you feel uncomfortable when we’re in bed with the attention I give and show you... Was that just insecure Frankie talking?” You ask softly. His eyes are still closed but he nods his head. Your hand rests on his stomach and you slide it upwards again and wrap it around his neck, your thumb brushing back and forth behind his ear.

“Sorry I basically called you a liar last night. That wasn’t fair of me” He tells you sincerely, finally opening his eyes to look back at yours. “I know you love me. All of me. God knows why, but you do” he finishes with a teasing smirk.

“I do love all of you. Every inch. And sometimes I just love showing you how much I do” you shrug.

“I know. And if I’m bein’ honest… I do… y’know, like it. I really like it. I just, yesterday, I don’t know what came over me. Just feeling sorry for myself I guess and wasn’t feeling… up to par, for you, and I guess I got a little too much in my own head. Shit I don’t know, guys teasing me all night, I probably had too much to drink and looking at those stupid pictures of me from when I was much younger and took better care of myself just had me feeling not very good about myself”

“Frankie, baby,” you begin, shifting your position so you can swing one knee over to the other side of his hips so you’re sitting on his lap on your knees facing him while he rests against the headboard. His hands immediately go to your hips and rest there, just holding you, while yours go to his shoulders.

“You never have to doubt for a moment how I feel about you. How I desire you. I need you to hear me on that” you tell him, staring into his eyes in hopes he doesn’t get too embarrassed and turn away from you again. To your delight, he doesn’t. He holds your gaze and his thumbs absently draw small circles on your hips. “I am in love with this Frankie, the one right in front of me. To me he’s sweet and perfect and yeah, he turns me on. Like, a fucking lot. So sorry, but you’re just gonna have to face facts, and thems the facts” you conclude teasingly and he lets out a little chuckle.

“Understood” he nods once before he pushes forward slightly and his mouth latches on to the side of your throat, gently kissing at your inviting flesh. Your head falls back and your hands travel up to hold the back of his head, fingers running through soft chestnut curls.

“There’s something else you said last night…” you begin, trailing off slightly as Frankie’s hot mouth on your skin attempts to distract you.

“Mmm?” He mumbles into your neck, not letting up from what he’s doing as he licks and nips and sucks at the supple flesh of your throat.

Despite wanting nothing more than for him to continue, your hands go to his chest and you gently push him back. He falls back against the headboard with a quiet thud and looks at you with a hint of confusion and worry in his gaze.

“You said you haven’t accomplished anything since leaving the military and well… I just wanted you to know that I am currently in possession of evidence that you have accomplished something very special. Might even be the most important thing you’ve done in your life” you shrug and he raises a curious eyebrow at you.

“Possess… what? What do you mean?”

Rather than spell it out for him, you take his large hand in two of yours and bring it to rest on your stomach, his palm flat across the span of your belly. It’s probably too early for a ‘bump’ just yet but you hold his hand there all the same and within seconds you watch as the realization dawns across his face. At first his brow furrows like he’s confused but then they perk up and his face splits into a giant grin that reaches his eyes and causes them to crinkle at the corners.

“Baby are you… are you serious?” He asks for confirmation and you simply nod your head.

“I mean, I think so. I’ve been feeling kinda off for a while and you my dear boyfriend were too sweet to call me out on any of my crazy shit” you add teasingly and huffs a little laugh but shakes his head. “Then it all kinda clicked into place when I woke up so I took a test this morning and it was positive” you shrug. “I’ll have to make a doctors appointment to be su-“

You don’t get the rest of the words out before Frankie is on you. He surges forward pressing his mouth to yours in a firm kiss before he moves to start peppering tiny little kisses all over your face and neck until you’re bubbling over with laughter as his facial scruff tickles your throat with his frantic movements.

“We’re having a baby?” He asks, eyes welled up with tears as he pushes back from you to stare into yours. He needs to hear you say it, make sure he’s not dreaming this moment. You had a close call together once before, hence the left over pregnancy tests in your bathroom cupboard but nothing came of it. Neither of you expressed disappointment or relief over the false alarm several months back, just kept on with your lives but now it felt different. At least for you. You felt… ready. Excited, even.

“We’re having a baby” you confirm, wide grin across your lips, ecstatic that Frankie is happy with this news.

“Oh my god” he breathes out, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly against his chest so he can bury his nose in your hair. “I'm gonna be a dad?”

“You’re gonna be a great dad” you clarify.

“Oh my god” he breathes out again, pulling you back tightly against him one last time.

“I’m so glad you’re happy about this” you blubber through a few tears, squeezing him back just as tightly. You really weren’t sure how this news would go over, especially given the events of last night and how Frankie currently felt about his position in life but you are incredibly relieved at how happy this news has made him. You weren’t planning this, like at all, but you suppose when you have as much sex as you and Frankie do, no matter how careful you are, it’s bound to happen.

“Of course I'm happy” Frankie murmurs into your shoulder. “I’m so fucking happy” you can feel a few stray tears fall against your skin and you smile, holding him impossibly tighter.

You stay there for several long moments, just letting everything sink in before Frankie speaks and breaks the silence. It’s quiet, muffled into the warmth of your skin as his face stays buried in your neck, but you hear it.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” You breathe out in shock. You heard him, you know you heard exactly what he said, but… is this really happening?

“Will you-”

“I heard you” you quickly interrupt, gently pulling back from him enough so you can look at each other again. You put both hands on his face, searching for any traces of regret like maybe he just blurted that out because of the endorphins coursing through his body but he looks back at you only with pure love in those giant brown irises of his.

All the same, you need to be sure he’s absolutely sure and not just doing this because he thinks it’s ‘the right thing to do’. You want him to marry you because he wants to marry you, not because of any obligation he might feel. To be honest you’ve been waiting for a while for him to pop the question, you figured you’ve been together long enough, living together even for a while now but it hadn’t happened yet. You try not to feel too over excited that he’s asked you now, in case it’s for the wrong reasons, but you can’t help but feel how your heart practically soared the moment the words fell from his lips.

“And?...” Frankie asks hopefully and you realize it’s been several long seconds without you actually giving him an answer.

“Baby,” You sigh, your gaze glancing down for a moment and you feel his shoulders drop a little, like he’s already anticipating you saying no to him. “I would marry you in a damn heartbeat but… I just don’t want you to ask me now because you think you have to. This is a lot, I just don’t want to put any more pressure on you. I don’t expect you to suddenly feel ready to marry me because of this”

You try desperately to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. If he agrees with you and takes it back you won’t be mad with him but you know your heart will be just a little bit broken.

“Wait right here” he suddenly pipes up, taking your hands and pressing them into your lap before he extracts himself from the bed and runs over to the closet. You watch him closely, not exactly sure what he’s up to as he scavenges around at the top of the closet for a moment, rooting through a box you recognize that holds some of his military achievements that he said he didn’t want to hang up or have on display, a chapter of his life he had closed.

He seems to find what he’s been after and scurries back over to the bed, crawling across it on his knees until he’s back in front of you again and presses a small blue velvet box into your hands. You flip the lid open and a soft gasp leaves your lungs.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to do this” he shrugs. “I bought it weeks ago and I wanted to, you know, plan something big for you and then ask you but, I mean, what’s a bigger moment than this, right?”

Your eyes well up again (happy tears this time) as you stare down at the beautifully crafted diamond engagement ring that sparkles brightly despite the low lighting of your bedroom. The band is a beautiful rose gold, your favourite, and the cut of the diamond and style of the ring is one you’ve been dreaming about since you were a little girl. Clearly Frankie paid attention all those times you happened to pass by a jewelry store together.

“You’ve had this for weeks?” You ask through your tears, still not believing it, your dream actually coming true. Not only was Frankie asking you to marry him, but it was his idea and something he’d decided on long before he knew you were pregnant.

“Yeah I guess I’ll have to call off the marching band and the flash-mob dancers now though” he teases with a smirk. “Unless you want me to take it back and-” he goes to reach for the ring but you snatch the box out of reach, clutching it to your chest.

“Not on your life pal” you playfully threaten.

“Can I at least put it on you then?” he laughs. “That is, if you’re saying yes? Wait, let me…” he trails off and scoots off the bed again only to kneel down on one bent knee beside it. He reaches up and turns you so you’re facing him and a huge dopey smile spreads across your lips as you watch him want to do this at least somewhat properly. If anyone asks later you’ll leave out the part where he’s half naked when he popped the question.

“May I have that back, just for a second?” He asks and you oblige him, handing back the box.

He begins with saying your full name and your heart practically flutters in your chest as you take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure and get through this without being a weeping, blubbering mess.

“Would you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?” he asks, slight tremble in his voice from his nerves and all you can do is give him a face splitting smile before you frantically nod your head and yank him up from the floor, crushing your mouth to his.

“Yes I’ll marry you Francisco Morales” you murmur against his lips between hungry kisses. “About damn time” you tease and he laughs at that as well. He knows he probably should have done this sooner but he’d been waiting to save up enough money to get you the perfect ring he knew you deserved.

Frankie regretfully pulls away from your mouth to carefully pull the ring from the box and place it on your finger before he holds both your hands in his and lets out a big sigh of relief.

“You make me so happy” he confesses, leaning down so his forehead rests against yours. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you any reason to doubt that, but you’re the best thing in my life. Best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure that you and this little one feel the same way about me”

“I will always feel the same way about you Frankie” you promise, eyes slipping shut as another tear escapes which Frankie gently brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

“You’re sure you’re still gonna love me when I’m even more of a pain in the ass in a few months than I am now?” You ask playfully and Frankie huffs a laugh but nods his head affirmatively.

“We’re locked in now baby” Frankie affirms, gently twisting the ring around your finger. “It’s you and me”

“Plus one” you add, looking down to your tummy and Frankie laughs.

“Plus one” he confirms. “And maybe down the line… more than one?” he asks playfully, moving a little closer and nuzzling into your throat before he begins to plant hot little open-mouthed kisses there. You laugh wholeheartedly, your head tossing backwards. Leave it to Frankie to learn five minutes ago that you’re barely pregnant and already asking you if you want another. You really did love him with all your heart and you don’t think you’ve ever been happier than in this moment.

And it turns out that was the truth, that was your happiest moment, until about seven months later a new one replaces it as you hold your beautiful daughter in your arms for the first time. Frankie is at your side with his forehead resting against yours as a tiny hand clutches around one of his large fingers, the one that happens to have a shiny gold band around it now, and tears flow freely down his cheeks. He’d barely gotten there in time for your unexpectedly two-week-early delivery, but he’d made it. Thankfully he was well enough known around the hospital by this point that they allowed him to land his bird on the helipad on the roof before he jumped out and let his co-pilot take over for him as he rushed inside to find you.

It turned out Frankie had found his calling not long after your little unexpected surprise all those months ago. His reflections on the direction his life was going, coupled with your exciting news of having an addition to your family, gave him the push he needed to have his career together in a way that was both rewarding and challenging to him and after a few months of long days and intense training he was accepted into the local Red Cross chapter’s Search and Rescue Program as a Lead Pilot. He loved his job again. He was proud of what he did and most importantly knew that his family could be proud of him too. It allowed him to give back and to serve his community and country the way he always felt he was meant for, except now he could do it and still be home in time for dinner most nights, not shipping out to god knows where for months at a time as he had done in the service.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Morales” the doctor beamed at the two of you, though neither of you could take your gaze off the tiny bundle in your arms long enough to look back at her. Frankie mumbled a polite ‘thank you’ towards her before pressing a kiss into your temple.

“You did it baby” he murmurs against your skin and you can feel the smile spread across his lips.

“We did it baby” you correct him, turning your head just slightly to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “We made this beautiful, perfect angel” you sigh, nuzzling back in towards your daughter, inhaling that euphoric ‘new baby smell’ you’d up until now only read about but now completely understood.

“My girls” Frankie sighs, heart swelling with content at how goddamn lucky he got in his life.

“Thank you for loving me” he confesses, lips pressed to your temple.

Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @suzdin @iamasaddie @boliv-jenta @chronically-ghosted @vabeachazn @anotherpedrolover @axshadows @pedroshotwifey @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings

#karla's favs 🫀#frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader

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luvwanda · 3 months

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you don't understand how much I need him

#i need him right now #he's so f gorgeous #pedro pascal #pedro pascal the man you are #this man is gonna be the death of me #pedrohub #pedro pascal imagine

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luvwanda · 3 months

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Requested by: @neymarjrrwife, I really hope you like it!! ♡

A/N: for this, we’re going to pretend Ygritte was never romantically involved with Jonny boy :) also, this unintentionally evolved into my favourite trope of all time...yep, you guessed it...thERE'S ONLY ONE BED

Jon Snow x she/her!reader

A Song Of Sunshine And Snow

The knock at his door causes an immediate conflict of emotions within the newly nominated Lord Commander. While he welcomes any distraction from the paper-bound responsibilities of his new role that bore him beyond belief, any interruption when he is shut in his quarters usually brings about an unpleasant circumstance that he is the one now trusted to resolve.

Sighing, Jon Snow lifts his tired eyes from the seemingly endless rolls of parchment on his desk and looks to the door. “Come in.”

With a sense of urgency, Samwell Tarly bundles through the door and Jon has to resist rolling his eyes, immediately parting his lips to remind his best friend that he does not need to knock to come and see him, regardless of his new status, but Sam does not allow him the chance to speak.

“There is a girl, Jon! A girl at the gates of Castle Black! The brothers there, well- Gods only know what they’ll do to her if left unchecked!”

Instantly, Jon stands to his feet, reaches for his fur cloak and storms out of his quarters, wrapping it around his shoulders and clasping it as he marches down the stairs and out into the courtyard. There, several brothers have gathered in a crowded circle, surrounding some poor soul in the centre in eerie silence, staring eyes in every visible direction.

“Seven hells, let her through!” Jon orders in a thunderous voice, parting the men until a path is formed.

And there, standing in the middle of the shocked men, lacking the terror he expects and instead showing only a slightly nervous smile, is you.

Eyeing Jon up and down and sensing his authority, you breathe a sigh of relief. “Hello, are you the Lord Commander?”

Blinking rapidly, he nods, struggling to comprehend the boldness in your voice. “Aye, and who are you? What brings you to Castle Black?”

At that, you sigh. “Well, it’s not a very nice story, but an unfortunately common one these days. My village was raised to the ground by Ramsay Bolton for refusing to stand with him, and…I have nowhere else to go. My brother is here, you see, and I wanted to deliver the news to him myself, of our family. I understand it is against the rules of the wall for a girl to stay here, so I only wish to seek refuge until I can be directed somewhere safe to stay. My name is (Y/N)”

Again, you shock Jon with the way in which you recall the devastation that has led to your arrival. While he can see you have been upset by the events you describe, you have seemingly already come to terms with them enough to set your hopes on being reunited with your brother and then starting a new life somewhere else. A positive outlook like that is a rarity, in these parts especially, Jon thinks to himself.

“I’m sorry to hear of the loss of your village, we’d be more than happy to serve as your asylum. What is your brother’s name? If he’s not beyond the wall, I’ll take you to him myself, but if he is, you have my permission to stay until his return.” His promise to you is sincere, and the expressions on the surrounding men’s faces is enough to suggest he is going against tradition in his offer, but as a man before a brother of the Night’s Watch, Jon Snow cannot possibly turn you away.

“Thank you, Lord Commander. My brother’s name is Gaius-”

One of the men earns a harsh frown from Jon as he interrupts you, but when the Lord Commander realizes the man was simply calling out your family name to confirm that he knew your brother and his whereabouts, the frown falls from Jon’s face.

“Thank you, brother. Gaius is on watch, you say?” Jon clarifies, earning an “Aye” from within the crowd of men, before nodding and looking back to you. “Follow me, my Lady.”

Having a man as important as the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch refer to you with the formalities of someone highborn is enough to bring a bright smile to your face, but the fact that such a man has already shown you such kindness, too? You are certain that in the whispers you had heard in your village of Lord Commanders of old, none had been regarded as kind.

Without a word, you follow the fur cloak and inky curls towards a man-operated mineshaft of some description, and when you look up to see just how high the contraption goes against the track built into the wall itself, your mouth falls open. Standing inside what looks, to you, like a large wooden crate, Jon Snow takes a moment to admire the expression of wonder on your face, again without fear.

“My mother says the wall touches the sky and is the closest to the Gods most men will get!” You tell him, voice excitable as you hurry into the contraption and stand beside him. Realizing what you had said, your smile falters slightly. “Or, she used to say, I suppose.”

Jon’s eyes are full of sympathy as he looks down at you, watching as your eyes dart around every opening in the crate to see the world from new heights as the lift ascends.

“I’m sorry for what, and who, you have lost.” His voice is quieter this time, less formal now that the two of you are without witnesses.

“It’s alright, I consider myself lucky to still have my brother when so many have nobody. Living on the wall must be such a lonely life, in that way. In a position like yours, I can't imagine how difficult it must be for you to stay if your family were in any kind of trouble. I’m sorry that this place forces that weight on you, and your brothers.” You meet his eyes, and Jon cannot believe that he sees his own sympathy for you reflected in your eyes for him, without you knowing anything of him or the hardships he has faced.

“Thank you, but it is part of the Oath that every brother of the watch must take, it’s something that we agree to.” Jon explains, and you shrug.

“Doesn’t mean it hurts any less when that gets tested, though, I’m sure.”

Jon breaks eye contact with you to stare straight ahead. “Aye.”

For a moment, he loses himself to thoughts of what he has lost, what he doesn’t know for certain if he has lost or not, due to his position here.

It doesn’t take you long to break the silence and pull him back to the present. “What’s your name, Lord Commander?”

“Jon Snow.” He answers.

“And does the wall touch the sky, Jon Snow?” You ask him, bringing the first chuckle from his lips that he has heard in a time he truly can't remember.

“No, my Lady, I’m afraid it does not.”

Feeling victorious in your mission to bring a smile to the stoic man’s face, you can’t help grinning. “That’s a shame. Still, I bet the world’s pretty from up there, and I’ve never seen the other side before! What’s it like?”

He hates to admit it, but the genuine curiosity that laces your excited words is melting the layer of ice that’s formed around his heart in the years he has spent living a life as cold and harsh as this.

“You’ll see soon enough.” Jon tries his best to hold onto some kind of professional composure, but the smile you’ve brought him simply will not leave as long as you are still standing at his side.

To his absolute astonishment, you nudge him playfully. You, a stranger, a woman from a village he doesn’t know, having known him no more than ten minutes, have playfully nudged the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, like he’s no more than a childhood friend to you.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re really not going to tell me anything? You’re going to make me wait until we get to the top? Don’t be a bore, give me something to picture before we get there!”

And he’s laughing again. Jon Snow is really, properly laughing and shaking his head in utter disbelief at the existence of you, wondering where such a jewel has been hiding all this time and how the sun hasn’t caught sight of you to create a shining trail that would have guided him straight to you before today.

“It’s snow and ice and trees, as far as the eye can see; there really is not much more to report, I’m afraid.”

Scoffing, roll your eyes. “That’s incredibly underwhelming. Perhaps the best view to be seen from the wall will continue to be the pretty face of Lord Commander Jon Snow?”

By the time you’ve asked your rhetorical question, the elevator has reached the top of the wall, and you are already stepping out of it, looking over your shoulder at the man you have just frozen in place with a bright smile.

“You can't take a wife, I know, but who’s to say a girl can’t flirt with you every now and then?”

And Jon Snow can’t speak. In all his years, he has never known himself to become so flustered as to lose all memory of every word he has ever known. He is a man, the Lord Commander of the brotherhood that protects the realms of men, and you have reduced him to a blushing, bashful boy. Seven hells. Giggling to yourself and the impact you have clearly had on him, you walk over to the closest edge of the wall and peer over the other side, gasping quietly at the sight of a world you’d never seen before, and then the world you’d always known on the side you came from, but never thought you’d see from a bird’s eye view.

The rest of the men on watch have all ceased their conversations in shocked silence at the vision of an actual, real woman at the top of the wall. At first, they consider the possibility of whether you are no more than a mirage, but upon realizing they are all staring in the same direction, conclude you really are in front of them. Their stares do not seem to phase you, but Jon Snow does not appreciate the looks some of them are giving you.

Stepping out of the elevator, he frowns at them. “Keep your eyes beyond the wall, men.”

One of them, a younger one who looks to be not much older than a boy, gulps nervously. “B-But, Lord Commander, that’s a-”

Jon interrupts him. “A woman, brother, not a giant. Focus your eyes on the danger you are here to watch for.”

The young man nods frantically, turning hurriedly to look back at the same view beyond the wall that you are yet to tear your own gaze from.

“Send for Gaius, tell him his sister is here!” Jon calls, deciding to summon your brother to you rather than lead you along the wall and increase the number of men that have gawked at you this evening, which is already far too high, in his opinion.

A couple of men set off along the wall in search of your brother, and as they go, Jon’s eyes gravitate back to you. With a soft smile on his face, he watches you dart from one side of the wall to the other, peering over both sides as if making a mental list of their differences for some unknown reason. Suddenly, you gasp again.

“Is that direwolf a member of the Night’s Watch?”

Strolling over to stand at your side and peer down at the courtyard with you, Jon chuckles. “That’s Ghost, and I suppose he is, but he was with me before I came here.”

The expression on your face as you slowly turn to him is, no doubt, the most shocked he has seen you thus far. More surprised than you were when standing in the crowd of men on your arrival, and more in awe still than you were when you first looked over the wall.

“You have a direwolf? Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, prettiest man on the wall, has a direwolf?!”

Approaching from behind you, three men return, one with a resemblance to you that the blushing Lord Commander does not miss as he glances over your shoulder. Having heard your remark, your brother rolls his eyes and groans in annoyance.

“Gods, (Y/N), please do not flirt with him, of all the men here!”

Jon watches the smile that reaches your eyes in acknowledging the sound of your brother’s voice, his heart fracturing in his chest when a sadness within you slowly fills your eyes. Turning to face your brother, Gaius reads your expression and frowns in concern, his previous humor gone.

Once in front of Gaius, you pull him down to hug you, and the sympathy Jon feels for you as your brother clutches onto you, the heartbreaking news of the village you had both grown up in having been destroyed in its entirety, your family going up in the flames, too, reaching your brother’s ears, is enough to bring a physical ache to the Lord Commander’s chest. Leaving you to a private moment with the only family you have left, Jon passes you both to receive updates from the men on watch of anything they may have seen while on duty. He knows that if there was anything to report, he would have been informed of it already, but keeping their attention on him distracts them from the conversation between yourself and your brother, and means Jon himself does not have to focus his full attention on listening to them in his current state of worrying for your wellbeing.

After a few minutes, Jon returns to the two of you, seeing you have broken from your embrace and are instead wiping your brother’s tears, though none fall from your eyes, Jon notices.

“Gaius, you are relieved of your duties tonight. Please, take all the time you need.”

Sniffling, your brother nods gratefully. “Thank you, Lord Commander.”

Nodding along with him, you send Jon a meaningful glance and then return to the lift, an arm around your brother’s middle to guide him in his dazed state.

With sorrowful eyes that lock with yours, Jon watches the two of you descend the wall until you disappear from his line of sight.

For the rest of the evening, Jon Snow busies himself with as much as he can before the obligation to return to the parchment he has allowed himself to be distracted from begins to suffocate him. The only thing that had truly been able to distract him has, very predictably, been you, but not in the way he had anticipated. Naturally, he loses himself to thoughts of your smile, the things you’d said, how he’d felt when you were close. But more than that, Jon Snow found himself missing you the moment he could no longer see you. The positivity that you radiate everywhere you go, the kindness and lighthearted nature with which you carry yourself, every aspect of you that he knows so far is addictive in a way that he simply can’t explain. The longer he is away from you, the more certain he becomes that some part of him has been missing you through every event of his life thus far, he just didn’t know that it was you he had been missing until today.

Expecting to return to the less entertaining parts of his duty, he trudges back to the Lord Comander’s office, which he must now regard as his own. Upon reaching the door, however, he finds you petting Ghost’s head and smiling down at him.

“I see you’ve made fast friends.” Jon greets you with a soft voice, heart already dancing in his chest at the sight of you.

The smile you had previously been giving Ghost moves to Jon and brightens. “Definitely! The news tired my brother out, naturally, so I thought it best to send him to bed and then come and wait here for you. Ghost beat me to it, so you’d best see to whatever he needs, first.”

Jon chuckles. “He’s just looking for somewhere warm to rest for the night, I expect.” Pushing open the door to his office, he is proven correct as Ghost pads over to a large rug on the ground and immediately curls up there, causing both you and Jon to laugh quietly. “What can I do for you, (Y/N)?” Jon asks, gesturing for you to head into his office first, assuring you that despite the reputation of some of the men that have been sent here, chivalry will not die as long as Jon Snow lives.

Stepping inside, he closes the door behind you and offers you a comfortable armchair, while he sits on a rickety wooden chair behind his desk, quickly pushing the rolls of parchment aside to clasp his hands on the table and give you a small smile.

“Much like Ghost, I was looking for somewhere warm to curl up for the night, as I dont think it’s a good idea for me to try and sleep in a room with any of the men here. I mean no disrespect, but based on the looks they’ve been giving me, I take it most have forgotten how to act when a woman is around.” Despite the airy chuckle that passes your lips, Jon sees it then, the slight nervousness in your eyes as you glance at the door, as though worried a man could burst through at any moment, but not at all afraid to be in this room with him.

Frowning, Jon nods. “I understand, but please trust me when I say I will not let any of the men here close enough to harm you. For the duration of your stay, it would be best if you were never without the company of your brother, myself, or Ghost, to ensure your safety.”

The offer of spending more time with the kind Commander is enough to bring a sparkle back to your eyes. “Thank you, I appreciate that a lot.”

Jon shakes his head, dismissing your gratitude. “And to the matter of your sleeping arrangements-”

You interject. “If you have a spare blanket, I’d be more than happy to stay in this chair, it’s actually very comfortable!”

Appreciating your humble offer, but disregarding it entirely, Jon shakes his head again. “No guest here will ever sleep in a chair, not on my watch.”

At that, you can't help snorting. “Pun intended?”

As silly as it is, Jon finds himself laughing with you. “Aye.” He clears his throat. “I think you would be safest sleeping in my quarters.” When Jon sees your eyes widen, he fumbles for more words. “I mean to say that I will sleep elsewhere, perhaps that chair, or another room- the men will not disturb my private chambers, so you will be safest there.”

Settling into a somewhat relieved and somewhat disappointed expression, you nod at him. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you, but I won’t ask you to find other sleeping arrangements. If there is any way for you to still be in your chambers, I would feel safer knowing you were close by, if anything were to happen.”

Touched by the trust you are already showing him, Jon holds your gaze and nods. “Of course. As long as you are not at all uncomfortable with the idea-”

“I’m not.” You answer, perhaps a little too quickly, making Jon laugh bashfully.

“Good, I’m glad. We’ll need to provide you with clean clothes while you are with us, but I’m sorry to say women’s clothes are not kept here.”

You shrug. “It’ll be a testament to my appeal if I still draw as much attention when dressed as a man, I suppose.”

Holding his tongue, Jon resists the urge to immediately tell you that he has no doubt you will, especially in his eyes, because he is already certain he would be able to pick your smile out amongst any number of others, no matter what clothes you were wearing. Instead, he chooses to keep such thoughts to himself and the rising tension within him forces him to his feet from behind his desk, Ghost immediately standing to attention, too.

“I’ll see to fetching some more clothes for you now, Ghost will show you to my chambers for the night.” With that, Jon Snow speeds out of the room and takes some deep breaths of ice cold, northern air. Beginning a brisk march to the storage room where linens and clothes are kept, his heart pounds in his chest in a way that he has never felt it do before, in a way that Jon did not think possible.

Before today, before your smile, it had been locked away in a thick icy wall of its own, and he had been foolish enough to believe it to be impenetrable. How can you possibly have melted it, in its entirety, already? And why is Jon Snow so exhilarated at the thought of such a terrifying thing?

Still seated in the armchair you had been left in, you fan yourself with your hand and laugh to yourself in disbelief, your face flushing hot as you replay the conversation you’d just had with the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. In truth, it takes you a few minutes to regain strength enough to stand, and when you do, you tilt your head at Ghost, who tilts his head right back at you, mimicking you.

“We’d best keep my reaction just then between us, what do you think?” You ask him, and Ghost huffs in reply, agreeing to keep your secret in his own way.

Having formed a truce, Ghost walks you through the open door and begins to lead you to the Lord Commander’s chambers.

Regardless of being told to come here, letting yourself into someone else’s private place of rest feels intrusive. When Ghost paws at the door, though, you feel he has granted your passage in a way that you cannot refuse. Ghost strolls in like he is the one that owns these chambers, and you start to think that perhaps he does as he curls up on the floor at the end of the bed on the other side of the room. Making sure you close the door behind you and light the candle closest to you on entry, you take in your surroundings, not seeing very much to suggest that this place has been truly lived in by Jon Snow and using that to form the conclusion that he has not been Lord Commander for long enough to have spent very much time here. Still, sitting down on the bed that you know to be his, the soft scent of him brings the smallest smile to your face, remembering when you had been at his side while ascending the wall, close enough for it to be impossible for you to miss his earthy scent, mixed with a little sweat and old soap. With hair like his, you are certain he must take care to wash at every opportunity.

A gentle knock at the door makes you jump out of your skin.

“Come in!” You call, feeling just as ridiculous as Jon does from the other side of the door, having just knocked to request entry to his own chambers.

Far more calm now, Jon steps into the room with a folded pile of clothes in his arms. He spent an embarrassing amount of time sifting through the spare clothes to find as many soft fabrics as he could, rather than giving you any of the aged, scratchy items, and that is a fact he will take to the grave.

Placing them at the foot of his bed, the sight of you sitting on it makes him smile, hoping you have begun to settle in.

“Thank you.”

He shakes his head. “There’s no need to thank me, I hope they are comfortable.”

Rolling your eyes playfully at his concern, you grin up at him. “As long as they’re warm, I won’t complain about a thing. Where will you sleep?”

Evidently, in all his preparation for collecting the biggest pile of softest clothes he could find, Jon had neglected to think about that very question. Scratching the back of his neck, he glances around the room as you had, like the place is so unfamiliar he may not have registered there was another bed, or chair, to sleep on, but unfortunately chambers are solely meant for sleeping, and the Lord Commander’s only includes one bed.

“I will sleep on the floor.” Jon concludes confidently, knowing his back will not thank him for such an offer, but his gentlemanly nature will not allow him to consider any other option.

Immediately, you shake your head. “Absolutely not. I trust you enough to not jump on me, and there is plenty of room for us both in this bed.”

Jon’s eyes are wide as he ponders the mere possibility of sharing a bed with a woman.

Before he can protest, you give him a warm smile to reassure him. “I swear, I don’t mind.”

Swallowing a fear he is certain is worse than facing a white walker, Jon Snow nods, silently agreeing with you.

“Let’s get to sleep, then. I expect you have to wake early.” You assume, and Jon nods again, having once again lost the ability to speak as he rounds the other side of the bed and sits down with his back to yours.

Heartbeat ringing in his ears, Jon watches your shadow in the candlelight on the wall in front of him as you raise your arms and begin to strip down to your underclothes, giving him the clarity that he needs to know it is alright for him to do the same. The still rising tension is enough to tell you that neither of you will be able to stand sleeping fully clothed, let alone when your bodies are as close as they will have to be under the furs of the bed. Deliberately taking as long as he can to unbutton his undershirt, Jon waits to hear you shuffle under the bedcovers before he tosses his undershirt to the ground and does the same, granting you a momentary view of the bare skin of his back for a few glorious seconds before his head falls against the pillow beside yours.

Several seconds pass in a painfully slow eternity, before you roll over to face Jon, and he glances down at you.

“Rather than letting this continue to be horrifically awkward, let’s treat this as a cozy opportunity to get to know each other, hmm?” You suggest, and Jon breathes a sigh of relief, turning on his side to face you, foreheads mere inches apart as he stares into your eyes, your expressions barely visible in the dim candlelight.

“How do you always find a way to see things so positively?” He asks you, unable to withhold the question that he’s been wondering from the moment you arrived.

“Finding the happiness in something that someone else can’t quite see at the time, makes me happy.” You shrug beneath the furs, like what you’ve just said isn’t one of the most profoundly kind things that Jon Snow has ever heard. “My turn to ask a question!” Jon nods, not bothering to even try and hide the smile on his face at your excitement. “How has such a kindhearted and pretty faced man landed the position of Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch?”

Jon chuckles lightly, cheeks blooming pink. “How many times have you called me that today?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Lord Commander, or pretty?”

Scoffing, Jon rolls his eyes playfully. “You know which.”

The giggle that escapes you makes his heart splutter in his chest. “You can ask me that when it’s your turn to ask a question. For now, you must answer mine, those are the rules.”

Jon sighs, feigning dramatics. “I yield. I’m Lord Commander because Sam put me forward for it and Maester Aemon casted the deciding vote in my favor.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now, trying not to notice the bare arms that Jon lifts from the furs to cross in front of him. “I didn’t ask how the voting system worked, I asked how someone as kind as you won such a vote!”

At that, Jon Snow gives you a cheeky grin. “You’ll have to make the question more clear when it’s your turn again.” Your jaw drops theatrically, and with a smug tone that you’ve never found more attractive in your life, he continues. “So, go on, how many times?”

Without delay, you answer. “I’ve said it three times, but the amount I’ve thought it is not yet possible to count.”

Jon releases a hearty, bashful laugh at that. “Why’s that?”

And then you throw a cheeky grin right back at him. “Still some hours left in the day, plenty more time for me to think it every few minutes.”

Inching closer to you still, Jon feels his heart hammering against his chest. “Every few minutes?”

Eyes glazing over in a way that has him swallowing nervously, you smile up at him. “Or, more accurately, every few seconds.”

Jon’s eyes dart from your own to your lips. “Where have you been all this time?”

Holding his heated gaze, you answer without needing time to think about it. “Waiting for you.”

Jon’s stomach flips, something it’s only ever done before in moments of true shock or fear, which this, in itself, obviously is, but in a way that he has never known before. “You know, I cannot take a wife.”

Shrugging, you scrunch your nose playfully, voice barely above a whisper now. “A forbidden and secret romance always sounded more fun, anyway.”

And as if that final demonstration of your incredible ability to spin any kind of inconvenience into something astoundingly positive isn’t enough to pull a genuine groan from Jon, he sees your eyes glance from his to his lips and linger there, and he needs no further indication from you. Leaning in, he captures your top lip between his own in a kiss that is as passionate as it is gentle, not wanting to alarm you and giving you the space to pull away if it please you, but when you raise a hand from beneath the furs to drag your fingers through the curls you’ve been desperate to feel since the moment you laid eyes on him, and push your body flush against his, Jon Snow loses every ounce of strength and resistance he has in favor of instinctual, near animalistic desire for you. Crawling over you, your hands grab at the toned muscles of his arms, gasping against his lips and allowing him entry to a land he’s never explored before, but is certain he will become a master of soon enough.

Needless to say, a song of sunshine and snow is one of heartwarming tenderness, in the same way that it is a tale of a love so all encompassing and completely overwhelming, neither party stood a chance.

______

taglist: @otteropera @neymarjrrwife @oliviabelova

#karla's favs 🫀#jon snow imagine #jon snow #jon snow x reader

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luvwanda · 3 months

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nobody ; jon snow.

track five of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; jon snow x martell!gn!reader

synopsis ; a child of sand and a child of snow—destined never to last, but somehow, you made it work.

words ; 9.0k

themes ; angst, action, fluff, healer au

warnings / includes ; heavy violence/gore/injury, wars/fighting, trauma, ramsay bolton, implications of sex, multiple mentions of death, reader is a bastard to oberyn martell, reader loathes the cold, a couple game of thrones spoilers, mentions of other characters in the show, and finally, fuck season eight !!

main masterlist.

You were fifteen when you first met Jon Snow.

The air was saturated with the ambrosial scents of spiced mulled wine and the rumbling thunder of tipsy cackling. Alcohol dripped from full golden chalices, heaping baskets of steaming bread rolls were passed around the mess hall, and plates were piled high with peppered mutton chops and creamed potatoes. You were seated near the end of the long table, quietly sipping on your honeyed apple cider as you politely smiled and nodded at the young nobleman who sat across from you, detailing a rather elaborate story of how he had hunted down a bear with nothing but a single hatchet and a lick of courage.

You didn’t buy a single word of it, but the exaggerated story was mildly entertaining nonetheless. You’d rather listen to his tipsy rambling than watch King Baratheon stick his tongue down a random maiden’s throat.

Seguir leyendo

#karla's favs 🫀#jon snow x reader #game of thrones fanfiction

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luvwanda · 4 months

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Do You Like It Here? (j.m. oneshot)

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT. MDNI W/C: 2k MASTERLIST

Summary: Joel contemplates shaving his beard. You are absolutely against that idea, and he makes you explain why.

Content/Warnings: Pics above are for aesthetic purposes only. Neutral descriptions of an AFAB reader (“your top”, “your shorts”, “your breast”, etc.). No use of “y/n”. Joel can carry you but there are no other descriptions of reader. Implied age gap if you squint. Joel being big and burly. Joel being a menace. Hints of body worship. Dirty talk. Reader liking facial hair for dirty reasons🤷🏻. Joel on his knees for you…. ✨Bathroom counter✨ Cunnilingus. Tongue fucking. Face grinding. Hair pulling (m receiving). Joel’s fucking nose deserves a warning😵‍💫 Allusions to further sexual activity. As always, let me know if I’ve missed anything!

A/N: Can we tell how much I think about Joel eating pussy?💚 My sweet sweet Roman Empire. Enjoy. :-)

Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to know when stories come out!

“Should I shave it off?”

You choke on your own spit, eyebrows hitting the ceiling. “What?”

“My beard. All this scruff. Should I shave it?” Joel asks you, his thumb and forefinger rubbing against his jaw, his eyes surfing his jawline in the mirror much too critically for your liking.

“Do you want to?” You reply back, curious to understand what is going on in that chaotic mind of his.

“No? Yeah? I mean,” he breathes. “I dunno. A lotta white is startin’ to come through, ‘n I feel like it makes me look… raggedy.”

You frown. “Baby,” you say softly.

You woke up before Joel, last night’s activities knocking him out cold right after you two cleaned each other up. Unfortunately for you, no matter how hard you fell into your slumber, your body always woke you no later than 7am. It was a blessing and a curse. You decided a shower was in order.

As soon as you finished and got dressed, your burly, grumpy and sleepy baby of a man stumbled into the bathroom. Wanting his presence always, you hopped up on the bathroom counter, your legs hanging off the edge, and stayed with him as he continued his morning routine. It was after he brushed his teeth and washed his face that he posed his question to you.

You place your hand on his jaw and pull him closer so he’s standing in between your legs. The light press of your fingertips never leave his face. “You don’t look raggedy,” you scold. “You look… well, you look fuckin’ sexy, for one. I love this look on you,” you admit, a little sheepish. Your eyes scan his facial hair once more before you glance at his eyes, then to his lips. Your finger traces his bottom lip. “So fuckin’ sexy,” you mutter, emphasizing your claim.

You don’t have to look into his eyes to know his demeanor shifted. You can feel the way his gaze darkened. He pulls himself closer to you, his knees knocking the cabinets. His hand starts on your knee, dragging it up your thigh and up your side until it settles on your jaw, his fingers grasping your chin to make you meet his eye. “Oh, is that so, darlin’?”

You gulp, your head softly nodding at his words; unable to speak as your eyes gloss over. “What else d’ya love about it, darlin’?” He pushes, his fingers tightening on your chin—words, he’s telling you.

You can feel every part of your body heat up. “It…it…” you stutter. His eyebrow flicks up with a faintness only you’d catch. You clear your throat in hopes it makes you speak up. “You- you’re already so big ‘n broad, ‘n this… the scruff… it just adds to- to you,” you tell him shakily, your brain starting to flood with just how much you love his facial hair. “P-plus, it- oh my god,” you whine, unable to stop the spew of shit that’s about to fly out of your mouth. “It feels so good when it rubs against my thighs ‘n my-” you gasp. You don’t remember when it got there, but his other hand is gripping your thigh, his strength tightening at the last words that fell from your lips.

Slow, tantalizingly slow, he leans in. He places a lengthy kiss to your lips; your eagerness gets the best of you as you try and deepen it, but he’s already breaking away—moving down. His lips grace your jaw, your neck—more open-mouthed and needy these ones are, and he pauses. “Ya like how it feels here?” He says against your neck. Then he’s moving lower.

He peppers kisses along your shoulder and the exposed parts of your chest your top shows. He licks and sucks at a particular sweet spot atop your breast. A breathy little moan escapes you, your arms falling limp to your sides—and out of his way. He pauses his kiss to breathe you in. Lavender. Vanilla. The shower you just finished still clinging deliciously to your skin. “Ya like it here, too, don’tcha?” He places one more kiss on the mark he just gave you, not giving you a moment to respond.

Then. He’s falling to his knees. Today was supposed to be a lazy day for you two, so you settled on solely a pair of sleep shorts. Nothing more. His hands settle themselves underneath your thighs, scooting you as close to the edge as possible without making you off balance. He’s so tall that on his knees, his nose is belly button level with you.

He pushes your thighs open. Starting at your knee, he places a swift kiss there. The higher he goes, the wetter and slower they become. A drop of sweat beads down your neck. His hands make their way to your sides, fingers dancing along the waistband. He meets your eyes for a silent confirmation. Planting your hands behind you for stability, you lift your hips for him, a whimpered please leaves your mouth.

He pulls your shorts off slowly—the wetness staining the center of your shorts peels off of you, the cold air interacting with your slick sends a shiver down your spine. Joel lets your shorts fall to the floor beside him, his eyes darting to your glistening sex. “Fuckin’ wet,” he growls. “All worked up from my white beard? My old age?”

“‘S not what I meant,” you sputter, the kiss he places to your mound throwing you off-kilter. His hands grab onto your waist and he’s angling your hips forward, giving himself a full view of you. He does it again—kisses your sex—but this time, he puts his whole face into you as he uses his tongue to aid him, his scruff tickling all around, on your thighs, your clit. Your hips buck into his face at the sensation, a louder moan reverberating against the bathroom walls.

“Oh,” Joel smirks. “Right there, huh. Ya like the way it feels right there? Right there on that sweet, perfect fuckin’ cunt, huh? Drives you mad? Wild?” He teases.

You lament at his words, conflicted between which you want more—hearing his mouth or feeling his mouth? You're pulled from your internal battle when you feel yourself become impossibly wetter: a glob of warm spit lands right where you need him most. Fuck, fuck, fuck, yeah okay, you want to feel him.

One hand behind you leaves from its place and reaches for his curls in an attempt to pull him into you. “Joel, baby, please,” you cry.

His head doesn’t budge no matter how strong you are. “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” he tells you. “Tell me what I wanna hear first, and then I’ll give it t’ya exactly, baby. Just be the good girl I know y’are f’me.”

“F-fuck. Fuck. Please, Joel, please-” you say impatiently. “I love the way it feels when I grind my fuckin’ pussy all over your face, baby, I love how it feels when it starts to burn against my thigh, the way it nudges and scrapes every part of me- it makes me feel like I’m on fuckin’ fire, baby, please,” you rasp.

“Atta girl, darlin’,” he coos, licking his lips before his hands pull you flush against his face, his tongue flying straight to your seam, licking a messy path that sends your slick and his spit everywhere. Instantly your head flies back, your hand curls into the roots of his hair once more as you moan and squirm against his grasp.

Joel loves spending his time down there, but regardless of the fact, you’ll never get used to how fucking good he makes you feel. Joel is ruthless when it comes to eating you out—always making you see stars even in the light of day.

“F-fuck, j-just like that, baby,” you pant, your one arm keeping you up threatening to lose balance at the greedy touch of his skillful tongue. He drags his muscle from your entrance and up to your clit, running circles and figure eights on it for a moment before he latches onto you—his lips completely wrapped as he suckles and continues to flick where you’re most sensitive. His dominant hand leaves your hip and he drags his fingers to your opening, his middle finger sliding in with ease—the sensation sending you to the edge of something white, hot, and all-consuming.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum, Joel, shit, I’m gonna cum-” you squeak, your entire body feeling flushed at his actions.

He pulls his finger out of you, his hand finding its rightful place perched against your hip as he pulls you impossibly closer once again, your ass nearly hanging off the bathroom counter, his grip the only thing keeping you up. Your arm loses its strength and you fall limp, your head thumping against the bathroom mirror, completely at the disposal of your man as he ravishes your sobbing pussy.

He lifts off your clit momentarily. “Give it t’me, sweet girl,” he tells you in a frenzy. His mouth is on you again, his tongue going straight to your hole—his tongue pushes inside of you as much as he can, his face pulled tightly against you. He begins moving, advancing his tongue in and out as you mindlessly begin grinding against face. With every upward push of your hip, his nose nudges at your clit and the pure ecstasy that washes through you is evident in the way you’re practically mewling above him, your obscene moans and gasps enough to make Joel’s hips thrust into nothing on their own accord in an attempt to seek some kind of relief.

More arousal pours from you, and Joel is quick to drink it up. You can feel the way his tongue flexes as he gulps, and fuck, that is what sends you reeling. You yank onto his hair tighter, driving your hips into his face at a ravenous pace—practically fucking his face—and then it hits you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as your back arches in this awkward angle, your orgasm hits you hard. It’s without warning, heart-pounding, toe-curling, addicting, and everything Joel.

Your lips are babbling nothing coherent, the occasional drop of his name escaping your mouth as he continues to fuck you through your high. He’s moving much slower now, much more precise—as if he’s doing this solely for his benefit now, not yours. Which, you don’t mind. Even as you start to slip into overstimulating territory, you don’t want him to stop.

You’d lay at his mercy for him to use you in any way he pleases if it meant you got to experience what it means to be loved by a man like Joel. With him, it’s all or none—none of that half in, half out bullshit. No, when Joel loves, he loves hard, and it’s evident in everything he does for you. Especially when it comes to your pleasure.

A particular lick to your clit causes you to yelp out in a pleasurable pain, so Joel finally rises again, kissing your spent cunt one last time before he pulls you up, rubbing up and down your spine to ease the uncomfortable position you were in.

“You okay?” Joel asks, slight concern and slight amusement on his features as he looks at your face. Pure bliss and contentment fills your features; he can still see the fog clearing from your head.

“Yeah,” you mutter softly, a lazy grin plastered on your cheeks as you look up at his shiny face. Weakly, you bring your arms up and wrap them around his neck, pulling him in to kiss you. He takes the hint, and he bends down, letting your lips meet in a soft yet enthusiastic embrace. You love the way you taste, especially when it comes from his mouth.

Pulling away breathless, both your and Joel’s eyes are aflame again.

“Don’t shave, baby.”

“I won’t, darlin’.”

You kiss him once more before he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you back to bed.

You were wrong. It’s going to be a busy day after all.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, and I hope it made your private parts tingle you enjoyed💚 If you’d like to be notified for upcoming fics, follow my notif blog!

#karla's favs 🫀#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut

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luvwanda · 4 months

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CHEFS KISS CHEFS KISS!!!

bread and tomato soup

pairing: established daryl x f!reader

wc: 5.4k

warnings: 18+ content, lots of plot, insecurity, the bath scene, readers on top!, not much of a power dynamic here, but theres teasing, squirting, little teeny bit of fingering, bit of a creampie too, daryl being cute

summary: daryl returns after three weeks, and reader decides to take care of him.

A/N: its january 3rd which means its MY BIRTHDAY :3 so here is just a fic about taking care of daryl in multiple different ways ;3 also just an excuse to talk about food im starving

masterlist

The house smelled of bread, the tap running as you washed your hands under it. Daryl has been on an expedition for about three weeks now, leaving you with nothing else to do but keep yourself busy. You got a lot of stuff done but you were still lonely.

You hummed to yourself as you moved over to the stove, taking a wooden spoon and stirring the tomato soup you were cooking. The sun was just starting to set, golden rays peeked through the curtains to leave kisses on your cheeks when you turned your head to the right. You lifted the spoon up to your lips, savouring the savoury but sweet taste of the soup. Something was missing, perhaps a bit of garlic? Thyme? You put some more of both in, stirring the soup a bit before tasting it again. A smile appeared on your face after deciding it was good enough, turning off the stove and putting the lid on top of the pot.

You bent down to check on the bread in the oven, the smell of sweet yeast filling your nostrils. It was perfect, nicely rounded and crisp on the outside. Closing the oven, you turned it off and reached back to undo your apron.

You almost missed the sound of the door opening, but you didn't. You quickly ran out of the kitchen and towards the entryway, seeing Daryl wiping his boots on the mat. You didn't think twice before jumping at him, hearing a grunt from him as he caught you with one arm, the other holding his bag. You kissed his cheeks repeatedly, his face scrunching up while the hand on your back gently rubbed you.

“Alrigh’ not too much,” he mumbled before setting you down and kissing your forehead. You looked down sheepishly, hugging him again.

“Sorry, I missed you.” You murmured, his calloused hand making its way through your hair while he smiled slightly.

“Dun’ apologize,” he chuckled. He smelled of sweat and mud with a hint of walker blood, but you didn't seem to care at all. The aroma was oddly comforting, and just the presence of him was enough for you. Deciding to revel in the moment, you snuggled into his chest as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

“How was your trip?” You breathed in, taking in his scent. He kept a hand on your lower back, shuffling you both out of the entryway of your home and placing his bag down. He just exhaled deeply at your question, his fingers tightening a little.

“Jus’ ta same ol’ thing.” He mumbled with a bit of a shrug as he let you go, “killed a bunch of walkers, found some supplies. Same ol’ song and dance.” His hand landed on your shoulder and gave you a reassuring squeeze after noticing your concern. You however did not let it go.

“What’s wrong, hm?” You brought your arms up to his shoulders, looking up at him. He sighed, wrapping his own arms around your waist as his gaze darted around the house. His brows furrowed slightly, his expression changing.

“Nothin’, nothin’..” he muttered shaking his head, “jus’ got a lot in my head.” You frowned but didn't want to press further, instead nodding and moving away to let him get settled.

Daryl’s jaw clenched as he watched you move away from him, feeling slightly disappointed that the physical contact was broken. The moment quickly passed as his head perked up at the smell of freshly baked bread. You noticed his expression and chuckled, taking his hand.

“Want me to run you a bath? You can eat afterwards,” you smiled softly at him. He visibly tensed at the mention of a bath, his hand squeezing yours.

“Nah, ‘m good.” He sniffed, wiping his nose. You scrunched up your nose, chuckling.

“You sure? You’ve been out for three weeks, you're dirty.” You snorted, looking him up and down. You were right, his clothes were gross and probably stinky, his hair disheveled. “You're taking a bath, come.” You gently tugged him along with you.

“Alright… I’ll… I’ll take a bath,” he grumbled, his tone laced with annoyance. You rubbed his hand gently and entered the bathroom with him.

Daryl sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped, but he allowed himself to be dragged around by you. He stood by the counter while you went to fill up the bath with warm water, eventually returning back to him. You placed your hands on the buttons of his vest, looking up at him for permission to undress him.

His eyes shifted to the side slightly, uncomfortable under your scrutiny. His expression changed once your nimble fingers started unbuttoning his vest slowly, and after looking into your eyes for a few seconds more, he looked away and muttered, “go for it.”

You smiled at him softly, letting his vest fall to the floor before starting at his button-up. He stood by silently, watching you undress him without making any comments. The process felt slightly intimate and he felt a warm feeling in his stomach as he looked over you, and he didn't protest or try to stop you from doing your thing.

You let his shirt fall next to his vest, letting your fingers trace along the muscles of his arm, watching them tense under your graze. His breath hitched as your fingers danced down his sides, landing on his holster belt. You carefully unbuckled it and placed it on the counter.

He shifted his weight, continuing to stand silent as you did what you wanted. He couldn’t ignore the feelings of intimacy beginning to rise within him. Your hands slid back down to the belt holding up his pants, unbuckling it with practiced skill. Your fingers soon unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, letting it fall to the floor. Daryl shivered lightly at the sudden coolness on his skin, looking down at you for a moment, his expression shifting slightly at how eager you seemed to be at undressing him.

You looked up at him briefly before pulling down his boxers, looking away to give him some sort of privacy. He quickly turned towards the mirror, seemingly avoiding his image as he turned away just as quick. You turned back to him and smiled softly, taking his hand and kissing it gently. He felt his skin warming up and his cheeks flushed slightly, you’ve seen him naked before but this felt more intimate… somehow. The situation made him feel quite vulnerable, but despite his discomfort he remained silent and still.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly and led him towards the tub. Daryl followed you, feeling a tingle in his abdomen from the butterflies you arouse in him. He stepped into the bath, groaning softly once he sunk down into the waiting water. His eyes closed, letting out a sigh of relief as he relaxed in the warmth of the bath. You leaned over to turn off the tap, letting him sit in silence.

“Wait here? I’m just gonna put your clothes away and get you some new ones,” you murmured softly, watching his eyes peek open to look at you. He nodded contently, closing his eyes again. You nodded and left the bathroom quietly with his dirty clothes.

Daryl sat in the bath, leaning back against the rim. He was starting to feel more and more relaxed by the minute as he let the warm water wash away some of the filth on his skin. He sat patiently for a few minutes while waiting for your return.

You came back into the bathroom, some clean clothes and a rag in hand. The clean clothes were placed on the counter while the rag remained in your hand as you walked over to the tub, kneeling down next to it.

“Mind if I wash you?” You hummed. Daryl’s eyes flickered up to you for a moment, his face lightly flushed as he felt a little insecure about his body.

“Sure… go for it,” he grumbled hesitantly, his eyes looking away. You smiled reassuringly, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. You lifted the rag and began slowly by scrubbing his chest, followed by his arms. Daryl flinched slightly at the touch, his muscles rippled and tightened as you grazed over his flesh. He forced himself to stay still, but even that was a lot to bear sometimes. With each stroke of the rag, his breath hitched.

“Relax,” you coaxed quietly into his ear. “Lean forward, lemme get your back.”

Daryl frowned slightly but obeyed your instruction, leaning forward in the tub to expose his back to you. He bit his lip nervously, though you’ve seen them before, he was still self-conscious about the scars on his body.

He grimaced whenever you would brush over the scarred skin, making the scars feel more pronounced. He hated the reminder of his past, always trying to run from it. But he loved you, and he knew that letting you see him like this was a way of accepting what happened and moving forward with his life. He wasn't used to this physical intimacy, but he felt okay being vulnerable with you.

You made sure to be gentle, and your soft actions didn't go unnoticed by him. Daryl let himself relax and reminded himself you were safe, letting go of the tension in his body as you washed away the dirt left on him. You kissed his shoulder sweetly, letting your free hand come up to run through his tangled hair.

“Okay, lean back.” You whispered softly, a gentle hand pushing him back. He complied once again, sighing softly as he felt your fingers combing through his thick hair trying to loosen the knots.

The two of you stayed silent throughout the exchange, the only noise was the water occasionally splashing or dripping. Your touch was comforting despite his initial discomfort, he began to sink into the water while his muscles relaxed. You were the first to break the comfortable silence.

“I need to drain the water, I’ll put some more since I still need to wash your hair. Unless you wanna get out now?” You hummed quietly, making sure not to startle him by the sudden noise. He shifted slightly and used his arm to prop himself up so he could sit.

“’s up to ya,” he mumbled. “I wouldn’ mind stayin’ in ‘ere longer, but I dun’ want ya ta have ta wait on me.” He rubbed his bottom lip anxiously, nibbling on the inside of it.

“I don't mind,” you smiled while shaking your head. You reached into the tub to drain the dirty water before grabbing the shower head and beckoning him closer, “let me wash your hair first.”

He looked at you for a long moment, nodding cautiously as he scooted over to you, bowing his head. You turned on the shower head, rinsing his hair so it was damp before taking some shampoo and lathering it into his hair. You soothingly scratched your nails against his scalp. His eyes shut tight, letting himself relax as you scrubbed his hair clean. The soothing sensation felt nice, although he couldn't deny how it made him feel…

You pulled your hands out of his hair to rinse out the shampoo. Daryl sat stoically, trying to rid himself of certain thoughts, his breathing deepened however as you washed his hair. The warm water and your touch sent a wave of chills down his spine. You soon turned off the water and fixed his wet hair so it was out his face, filling the tub with warm water again.

His mind started wandering again, his eyes darting around as you fixed his hair. It felt weird to have someone do something like this for him, but he didn't mind it. He trusted you, he loved you, and you helped him feel comfortable and safe in his own skin. He let his thoughts melt away into mush as he enjoyed the warmth of the water and the soft touches your fingers were giving to his hair.

“Gimme a kiss?” You smiled softly, leaning forward. He froze for a moment, intimidated by the sudden request, his face flushing. He thought for a moment if he wanted to, of course he did, but he wasn't big on physicality.

He grumbled nervously, looking away from your expectant eyes. Your smile faltered slightly, and he noticed. You pulled back and got up.

“Never mind, just holler when you're done.” You walked over to the door, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He awkwardly watched you walk away, clenching his fists. He felt guilty, he shouldn't but he still felt bad for rejecting you. The truth was, he really did want to kiss you.

“Wait!” He called out, watching you poke your head back in.

“Hm?”

Daryl was hesitant in the moment, not wanting to embarrass himself further. Still, he felt the need to explain himself. “’s not tha’ I dun’ wan’ ta kiss ya,” he said softly and let his shoulders sink into the water. “’s jus’ tha’…”

You cut him off, kneeling by the tub again while caressing the back of his head. “Don’t worry about it, you don't have to kiss me if you don't want to.” You smiled sweetly up at him.

He exhaled softly at your response, licking his lips. He knew you were trying to make him feel better, but he still heard the genuine reassurance.

“But I do,” he whispered. “Can we uh… can we maybe try somethin’?” You hummed in response and knelt up to his level.

His breathing deepened at the sight of you, years of being married to you and he still felt weak in the knees every time he saw you. He felt a nervous excitement in his stomach, much like the feeling he had asking you to marry him. Your eyes flickered closed as he started to lean in, his closing too. When his hands came up, his fingers found your neck and traced your jawline softly. Your body felt familiar and warm, inviting in every way. You leaned closer, and he was worried you could hear his heart beating a million miles a minute. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. Your breath against his lips made him tremble.

Your lips met softly, and you sighed into the kiss. It’s been three weeks since you two had kissed, and you needed this. You needed the reassurance he still loved you like you loved him.

And of course he did, he never stopped loving you since the day you met. His lips felt soft on yours, warm breaths filling you both with tenderness. But most of all, it felt so natural.

His eyes kept closed, not wanting to disrupt the moment. He wanted to get lost in the moment, to forget everything in the world and focus on the way you made him feel.

Eventually, you pulled back, smoothening your hand over his hair as you stood up. “I’ll be in the kitchen, want me to help you get out and change, or do you think you can manage?”

“I wan’ yer help,” he said shyly, slowly looking up at you. “If ya dun’ mind doin’ tha’.”

“Of course, you wanna get out now or soak for a little bit longer?” You smiled at him while combing through his hair. He chuckled and nodded, he wanted to finish this up quickly.

“I wanna get out, then we can get ta cuddlin’ or somethin’.” He smirked, chuckling when you slapped his shoulder lightly. You went to drain the water before moving towards the counter to grab his towel. He followed after you, groaning softly as he stood up and walked over to you. His body shivered slightly as he held his arms up, letting you towel him off. You kept him warm and comfortable, his eyes trailing over the way your lashes curled, his muscles relaxing again as you finished.

You smiled up at him and pecked his lips briefly before handing him his boxers, seeing his eyes flicker with desire at the slight touch on his lips. He took his underwear and slipped them on, feeling butterflies swarm in his belly. You handed him some sweatpants, followed by his shirt. He pulled on his clothes, sighing on relief as he was fully covered again.

“There we go,” you murmured. “We can get to cuddling in a bit, you hungry?” You grinned knowing very well he was quite hungry after his trip. Your suspicions were correct when his stomach growled on cue, his head nodding curtly.

“Tha’d be nice…” he glanced down at you. “Then we can cuddle after?” You nodded and led him out of the bathroom, into the kitchen where you had set up a plate of bread and tomato soup. His eyes widened when he saw his plate of food, the freshly baked bread making a delightful assault on his senses.

“Smells amazin’,” he chuckled and sat down at the table, “ya made this?” He asked, dipping his bread in the soup and savouring each bite.

“Mhm,” you smiled warmly as you took your own plate and sat in front of him. You both sat in warm silence, enjoying each other’s company as you both continued to eat. He felt your warmth and love just from the way you cooked this meal for him.

“Thank you fer this,” he mumbled, finishing up his food. You hummed in response, taking both your plates over to the sink.

“It’s not much,” you shrugged as you washed the dishes. As you washed your dishes, Daryl’s mind began to wander. You cooked dinner, gave him a bath, helped him change, been so attentive and caring, but you didn't seem to want anything in return. He wanted to repay you for your kindness, for making him feel comfortable and safe in your hands. He wasn't sure what to do, but he knew he wanted to make you feel appreciated.

“We can cuddle now,” you turned to him, wiping your hands. He nodded lightly, his eyes roaming over your figure as he walked over to you. He felt pleasant with a sense of fullness, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly as you both walked towards your bedroom. You let him sit on the bed first, kissing his forehead. “Hang on, just gotta change into my slip.” He nodded, sitting at the foot of the bed while waiting for you to come back.

You soon emerged from the closet, wearing a deep red slip dress. His eyes locked on you and they widened at the sight, swallowing as you got closer to him.

“Ya look beautiful,” he breathed as you stood in front of him, his head tilted back to look up at you, placing his hands on your hips. You sighed softly when he pulled you onto his lap, his fingers tracing up and down your thighs, your body fitting perfectly with his.

“I missed you,” you whispered, a slight pout on your face as you let your fingertips rest on his cheeks.

“I missed ya too,” he whispered back, the feeling of being empty and lonely without you slowly ebbing away. He leaned in, kissing you gently. The intimacy finding its way into him again, the comforting feeling of your body on his was warm and welcoming.

You kissed him back, your hands moving down to rest on his shoulders. His hands moved from your hips, up to your waist, rubbing circles into your sides with his thumbs. He wanted to make up for lost time.

The atmosphere suddenly felt hotter, your kisses getting more desperate and intense while his hands moved back down to your hips. He pulled you closer onto him, pulling your body flush against his. You groaned into his mouth as you started rocking your hips against his, hearing him groan as well. The arousal between the two of you started to rise, the intensity of your grinding made your slip ride up. Daryl groaned at the sight of your full, plush thighs, his erection pressing against you. You were so delicate, but so eager.

Each movement you made, sent waves of pleasure up his body. His hands gripped tight onto your thighs, grunting against your neck as you pulled him close. The more you ground against him, the more your slip rode up and revealed your panties.

His breath hitched as you continued to roll your hips, he leaned back on his elbows and looked up at you. The way your lips were parted, the sight of your flimsy underwear eliciting a moan from him. His dick grew harder as his entire body trembled with arousal, placing one hand on your hip.

“Fuck… yer so sexy,” he bit her lip, pushing your slip up with one large hand. He sat up to fully remove your slip, tossing it onto the floor and immediately ravishing your breasts. You yelped, a hand moving to the back of his head as his mouth sucked on the flesh on your chest.

A soft breathy moan left your lips as his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, biting down gently. One of his hands moved to squeeze your ass, lifting you up slightly before directly placing you atop his erection. You whined at the feeling, squirming on him. He growled against your breast, squeezing the other as he lifted his head to look at you.

“Go on baby, do yer thing.” He whispered breathlessly, watching you grind down on him. Your panties shifted whenever you moved, letting him get a glimpse of your folds. He kept his eyes on your mound, reaching forward to rub circles over your clothed clit. You let out a mewl, biting your lip.

Evidence of your arousal quickly seeped through the thin fabric shielding yourself, smearing over his sweatpants the harder you grounded. Daryl let out a deep groan of approval, taking his thumb away from your clit and licking the wetness off of it. You almost felt yourself squirt right there but you held off, pushing him down onto his back.

He grunted at the gesture, grabbing your hips but grinning as you pushed his hands away. He just sighed and lay back, looking down as you got off of him to pull his pants and boxers off. He groaned at the feeling of his cock springing out, slapping against his stomach. He tried to sit up again but you wouldn't let him, instead pulling off your panties and sitting on his lower stomach. He smirked up at you, his gaze wandering up and down your body.

“Let me sit up, I wanna touch ya properly.” He chuckled, gaining a nod of approval. He quickly sat up, his hands on your ass as he shuffled you both onto the bed. He moved the pillows to the side and sat against the headboard, grinning cheekily at you. You giggled back at him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass. “Gonna take care of me?”

“You bet your ass I’m gonna,” you sneered, reaching behind you to run your fingers along his length. He hissed through his teeth, narrowing his eyes as he looked right at you. His grip tightened on your ass, a low growl in his throat as he waited for you to take this further.

You took the hint, lifting yourself up and grabbing onto his length firmly. Daryl’s breath hitched as he reached out to spread your folds with his thumb, licking his lips at how wet you were. His thumb drifted towards your clit again, drawing out a whine from you. He chuckled at your desperation, thinking he had the upper hand, but you quickly proved him otherwise.

Instead of sinking down on him like he thought you were going to, you ran his tip along your slit, circling your clit. You caught the way his eyes rolled back and his fingers twitched, a soft whimper escaping his lips. You smirked a little, letting his tip invade through your entrance, quickly pulling it out. He growled at your teasing, grabbing your hips and trying to push you down onto his cock.

“Nuh uh Dixon, patience.” You coaxed, caressing his hair. He grumbled, letting go of your hips and letting his hands fall by his side. You continued with the slight teasing, letting the head of his cock in and out, just the tip nothing more. He threw his head back, closing his eyes as his body trembled with the need to just flip you over and take you the way he needed. But he relented and let you do your thing.

You watched as his chest heaved with every heavy breath he took, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He closed his mouth at the gesture, sighing softly as the same butterflies swarmed in his belly again. The feeling of your love was too much for him, the tenderness of it all putting him at ease. At this moment you decided it would be a good time to slam down onto him, evoking a loud moan from both of you. His brows furrowed as he felt your walls flutter around his length, his hands squeezing your hips as to stabilize himself. He almost came right there, the both of you had been deprived of intimacy for three weeks. So you both knew this wouldn't last long.

“Jesus… fuckin’ christ woman,” he groaned. “Ya made me hit my head on the headboard.” You stifled a laugh, earning a glare from him. His hands played around the small of your back, leaning in to kiss you.

You met his lips with equal need, parting your lips to let his tongue slither in. The taste of bread and tomato soup lingering on his tongue. As you two made out, you tested the waters by inching him out slowly and inching him back in. He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes still closed by his face twitched before landing in the crook of your neck. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his head, his arms wrapping around your back as you moved slowly. His breath was hot and heavy and you could hear the occasional whimper and whine from him whenever you’d swivel your hips. You let yourself go and let out your own moans, his hands dancing along your back as you rolled your hips.

Your clit rubbed on the tuff of hair above his cock, moaning wildly at the sensation. His lips kept busy as he sucked the skin on your neck, biting and leaving marks on the blank canvas. Your nails dug into his shoulders, feeling him tense at the feeling but not protesting.

“Ah… Dar,” you breathed. The nickname slipped off the tip of your tongue so naturally, you felt his cock twitch against your walls. His hands rested on your back, leaning back to then dive in between your breasts. He raised his hands to squish the two mounds of flesh together, kissing each nipple softly. You let out a breathless giggle, curling your fingers into his hair. He peered up at you through his eyebrows, licking up the curve of your breast and swirling around the nipple, his thumb doing the same to the other.

You sighed, throwing your head back and closing your eyes and you started to lift yourself up and down on his length. Feeling the way you contracted around his cock, hearing the hiss from his mouth. He let your breasts go, his hands drifting down to your ass once again. He gently guided you up and down his cock, biting his lip to muffled his moans.

Daryl’s hand came to rub your clit again, this time harder than before. Your hips jerked forward, whining at the sensitive feeling. “C’mon, ‘m gonna cum… wan’ ya ta cum wit’ me.” He groaned into your hair.

You nodded, your eyes still closed as you rode him faster. The way you tightened around him allowed you to feel every inch and every vein on his cock, the head brushing against your sweet spot with every rock of your hips. Your mouth fell open to let out whatever noises you could make in the moment, one of your hands on the back of his neck while the other remained tangled in his hair.

You rode him hard, the bed rocking with every movement and the headboard hit the wall a few times. Yet the sound of your moans reverberated through the room, your noises going straight to Daryl’s cock as he bucked his hips up into you. The way he did it allowed him to hit your sweet spot perfectly, and also threw you off the edge.

Stars were all you could see as your movements halted, your mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure as you came. But he didn't yet.

“Fuck… ya came without me?” He growled, biting your shoulder before pushing you down onto your back and ramming himself in and out of your sensitive cunt. This time the cry that sounded from your mouth was louder than ever, your head thrown back while your hands dropped to your sides and gripped onto the sheets. Your walls clamped down on his length, the sensitivity too much for you as you felt a second orgasm rapidly building up. But the heat was too much.

Daryl’s hands squeezed your waist, letting out a shout as he came inside you, still thrusting himself in and out of you to bring out your second orgasm. Your eyes rolled back and your moan came out as a deep groan, this time fluids rushed out of your wet heat and spilling onto his thighs and the sheets, soiling them completely. He gasped, panting heavily as the sight. He couldn't resist and you felt a finger or two slip into you, the wet sounds totally erotic. He fingered you through the intense orgasm, groaning at how wet and slick you were.

You let yourself sink into the bed, closing your eyes, and his fingers eventually slipped out of you. His eyes stayed on your figure, the hickeys on your neck and chest, your pussy and thighs glistening with your wet arousal. You felt him kiss your lips softly, kissing your cheekbone before slowly leaving you on the bed.

You sighed and just lay there, naked and sprawled over the bed like some porno. But when you heard the sound of water rushing from the bathroom, you smiled and felt even warmer than you already did.

“Time fer yer bath,” Daryl’s voice made you open your eyes, craning your head to see him walk over to you. He smiled down at you before picking you up bridal style and carrying you towards the bathroom. You glanced up at him sleepily, pushing yourself up to kiss his jaw, his stubble prickly against your lips. He squeezed you tightly in response, kicking the bathroom door open and placing you in the warm bath. “I’ll be righ’ there ta join ya, jus’ gotta change the sheets.”

You nodded in response, leaning against the rim of the tub and closing your eyes. His hand came up to rub your head gently before scurrying out of the bathroom. You breathed softly, your stomach in pleasant knots at how much you adored your husband. Letting yourself soak in the warm water as your body felt lighter.

You almost flinched when you felt a body slip in next to you, Daryl was way too quiet sometimes. He gently maneuvered you so you sat on his lap, your back on his chest. He wrapped his arms around your midsection, turning his head to kiss your neck softly. You smiled contently, snuggling into him as you both melted into the warm water.

“I love you,” you murmured hoarsely.

“I love ya too,” he responded just as gruff, squeezing you gently as he placed another kiss on your neck. You both sat in silent, just soaking in each other's love and warmth, his fingers rubbing your back to rid of the soreness he may have put on you.

“I’m hungry,” you mumbled and felt his chest rumble against your back as he laughed.

“I’ll heat ya up some of tha’ bread and tomato soup. How’s tha’ sound?” His whisper made you shiver delightedly.

“Sounds perfect.” You whispered back, and leaned against his shoulder.

#karla's favs 🫀#chefs kiss #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead

967 notes · View notes

luvwanda · 4 months

Text

omgggg I love it

sense | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x medium ! f ! reader

summary: colby meets a new medium for their video, but he didn't expect to have a crush on her

w.c.: 5.4k

warning(s): talk about paranormal, creepy activity, a lil steamy moment

a/n: like sleep tight, the hauntings are made up and the story line does not exist. i do want to add that, i suck at writing a lot of like investigative stories so please don’t judge me. also I had requests for this type of story, ironically I was already working on it so hope you guys enjoy it

images from pinterest !

"Is anyone gonna join us?" Colby asked, packing his camera into his bag.

"Actually, yeah, some girl that Celina referred from the home town," Sam replied. "She's supposed to be a medium." He added.

The two guys finally we're going to investigate the infamous orphanage that is supposedly haunted by the spirits of the children that died. They had finally done the research and were ready to go investigate.

"Cool, what's this girl's name?" Colby inquired.

"Uhm, I think it's y/n?" Sam stopped to think, pulling out his phone. "Yeah, I texted her this morning letting her know we're going to catch a flight there, she's our ride." Sam chuckled, putting away his phone into his pocket.

Colby let the name sit in his brain for a little, hoping to remember it later. It wasn't long before they were on their flight there. It was quite a while, editing and looking over their notes.

When they landed, Sam kept searching for her face and Colby totally lost who they were supposed to look for. Sam's eyes soon lit up, recognizing her in the crowd. He waved at her, bringing her attention towards them.

Colby finally noticed who they looked for, catching a glimpse of her. He felt his body heat up, flustered at her beauty. She was gorgeous, her hair running down her shoulders and her smile radiating through the crowds of people passing, he was surprised he didn't notice her earlier. She'd look like your typical medium, having a great style in all black, wearing an oversized band shirt, black sleeves underneath that hung over her jeans.

"Hey guys!" Y/n greeted them, hugging Sam then moving over to Colby.

Colby felt his heart flutter and couldn't help but take her scent in, practically intoxicating. As she pulled away from her embrace, Colby couldn't help but feel disappointed. She offered them a smile and a hand with their luggage, but they declined the help.

They moved their things into her car, ready for the trip over to their hotel. On the way there, she played music that practically matched Colby's taste. He felt as if he found his soulmate then and there.

Sam kept asking her about herself and getting to know her.

"So tell me, what type of medium are you?" Sam wondered. "If you don't mind me asking, of course."

"It's okay, I like answering these, well, it's weird but I sorta have different types of abilities," Y/n began, steering the wheel. "I can let spirits communicate through me, so I'll channel them into my consciousness, letting them talk." She answered.

"Other abilities? like what?" Colby asked, curious as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Well, I'm sure you have other mediums with my ability to see beyond what you guys can see," Y/n chuckled, amused at their curiosity. "I sort of have a heightened sense and I can see actual spirits walking around and hear whispers."

"You know, I think you're the only medium we met who can just surrender themselves to let spirits talk through them." Sam chuckled.

"Oh well I don't do it often, only with spirits I trust." Y/n added.

As she finished her sentence, they had finally made their way to their hotel. It didn't take long before the three of them were inside the room, talking about random stuff. Colby couldn't help but watch her as she laughed and moved around the room.

"What's so interesting about Nebraska?" Sam joked, starting a conversation.

"If i'm being honest," Y/n sighed. "Nothing." She laughed.

"Oh, that's great," Sam laughed back. "I don't want to get into the video already, but tell me, why is Nebraska so significant with orphanages?" He continued, pulling out his camera and beginning to record.

"Well, do you guys know about the Orphan Train Movement?" She asked, leaning back on the bed she sat on.

"No, never really heard of it." Colby replied, shaking his head.

"Well, Nebraska is like the center of all the railways, so in the 1850's all the way until the 1920's, people would send orphans on the train from like the crowded East Coast cities into the midwest, mostly Nebraska," Y/n explained. "So, we used to have a lot of orphanages just like Haven Orphanage." She continued.

"Really? that's really interesting." Sam commented, facing the camera towards her.

"Yeah, again I don't really have much knowledge about it but that's what I know," Y/n corrected. "Hopefully the guide will explain it better."

Y/n decided it's best if she lets them settle in, letting her also collect herself and prepare for their investigation. she said her goodbyes before leaving. She had to admit, she had a crush on Colby for a while. But she didn't want to feed her delusions and say he felt the same, telling herself he was probably being friendly.

When she had left, Sam turned over to colby.

"You so have a crush on her." Sam laughed.

Colby turned red, covering his face, "Shut up." He muttered.

"Hey, I just never seen you so quiet around a girl," Sam admitted. "Come on, you gonna make a move?" Sam enticed him.

Colby sighed for a second, looking at his best friend, "I-i don't know, she's only being nice, I don't want to embarrass myself and get rejected."

"Really? Colby Brock getting rejected? Haven't seen that happen yet." Sam teased.

Colby rolled his eyes, playfully. "Whatever, let’s just focus on this investigation for now." he averted the subject.

Sam just gave him a look, as if it wasn't over just yet. He agreed to his friend's idea, pulling out his notes and taking more notes.

Six o'clock came a lot earlier than they hoped, making their way to the orphanage. As they pulled into the building, they noticed y/n already waiting out front for them. Colby felt his heart beat a bit faster seeing her there. He examined her outfit and her demeanor, admiring her.

They began making their way up towards the front doors, seeing the guide also there. It didn't take long for y/n to turn around and notice them, putting a smile on her face and her heart to melt a bit seeing colby.

"What's up guys?" Y/n offered them a smile. "I was just talking to Morgan here about the building." She pointed towards the other woman.

They greeted their guide, offering a warm greeting. They all introduced themselves, joking and laughing a bit.

"Well, are you guys ready for the tour?" Morgan asked them.

"Yeah, for sure lead the way." Sam nodded, following her.

"Well this building was built in 1863, it was originally an orphanage named Haven Orphanage for Moved or Unwanted children," Morgan started, pointing towards the building. "It's said to be haunted, due to cruel conditions like overcrowding and shortage of supplies. The government didn't really want to pay for any orphanages, unfortunately causing it to be absolute hell for the children and staff." She continued, clasping her hands together.

"Yeah, off the bat I already feel like some negative energy," Y/n motioned with her hands towards the building. "Like I feel a negative spirit lurking."

"Yeah, so that you're feeling is Ruby," Morgan clarified. "She was one of the staff, she was very cruel to the children and it's rumored she sold her soul to the devil for the place to keep standing, but unfortunately she passed away from unknown causes." She continued.

Everyone looked around, widened eyes painted on their faces.

"Wow, okay so more demons." Sam chuckled.

"Well, it's not all bad energy," Morgan stopped him. "There's a lot of children spirits in here, they're rather playful and kind. But they do like to mess with you so don't get too scared from it." She added.

"Wait, why am I kinda excited," y/n replied, covering her smile. "I never talked to children's spirits before." She admitted.

"Well, it'll be a new experience for everyone then." Morgan chuckled, "Shall we start the tour then?" She suggested.

The group agreed, making their way into the building. Immediately everyone looked around the place, noticing the different decor and admiring the ceilings.

"So, as you can see, the building has a lot of character to it," Morgan pointed out. "But don't be fooled, there are a lot of dark corners of this building."

Aas they went deeper into the hallway, they looked around seeing the admission office and different classrooms.

"This was the classrooms, they would attend school here but the staff wasn't very kind," Morgan began. "A lot of the staff would use punishments that were unorthodox, like paddling which was spanking with a wooden paddle." She added.

Colby looked over to Sam, "Maybe I should be punished." He whispered, causing y/n and Sam to laugh a bit.

They soon wandered up the stairs, examining the stained glass on their way up. Y/n smiled as her eyes traveled around the beautiful structure, while Colby couldn’t help but watch her move and how beautiful she was.

When they made their way up, they noticed the many bedrooms with bunk beds. As y/n began following the guide, she heard a loud metallic thump in one of the rooms. She jumped a bit, surprised by the sound. Unexpectedly, she jumped back into Colby's arms, causing her to become embarrassed.

Colby's hands were wrapped around her for a moment before y/n, releasing her when she cleared her throat and looked down flustered. “Sorry, that just scared the shit out of me.” She muttered, placing a hand on her chest.

“That's probably Billy,” Morgan mentioned, pointing towards one of the darkened rooms. “He likes to mess with tourists, he’s a prankster but he’s harmless.” She added.

Y/n couldn't help but notice a small figure move out of her eyeline, causing her to swing her head towards the room. The guys followed her swift movements, examining the dark room.

"Did you see something?" Colby asked her, looking back at her.

Y/n tried focusing her eyes into the darkness, but nothing came up, "Could've sworn I saw something..." She whispered.

As Sam pointed the camera towards the darkness, he zoomed into the room. "Well we definitely have to come back here for something," he commented.

As they continued making their way further into the building, Colby couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was beautiful at every angle, he wanted to protect her from anything and everything. Y/n noticed his gaze, being a medium and all, and turned to him. Colby quickly averted his gaze off her, flustered yet again and awkwardly kept walking.

Y/n blushes as well, trying to rationalize. She cleared her throat as she began making her way towards one of the bedrooms.

"This was one of the girls' rooms," Morgan explained, pointing towards the different bedsheets of muted pinks and purples. "This doesn't have much activity besides a little girl who likes to sing from time to time, she's a rather sweet ghost."

"Sam, this one should be your favorite," Colby teases, mentioning the Sallie house.

Sam laughs, facing his friend, "I think I'm okay without another attachment."

They all exchanged laughs as they averted their attention towards the sudden faint sounds of footsteps, followed by the rocking chair in the corner slowly creaking as it rocked back and forth.

They went silent, looking at each other and back at the scene. But the chair just ceases its movements.

"Okay, what the actual fuck." Colby whispered, covering his mouth in shock.

Y/n felt a cold touch travel down her arm, as if someone swiped her arm. She looked around, trying to find the source. She felt a faint whisper in her ear, a name.

"That was the little girl, her name is Beth if you would like to talk to her." Morgan suggested.

Y/n's jaw flew down, realizing what the name was. "You're kidding," she gasped. "I literally heard like a whisper or something with that name." She announced, crossing her arms as she felt the cold begin to engulf her.

Sam and Colby turned to her, eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh my god, maybe Beth wants to talk or something?" Sam considered, pointing the camera towards her direction.

Y/n nodding, agreeing. She had experiences like this, but never this strong. She felt like her body was vibrating and buzzing with the constant movements and voices.

"Are you okay?" Colby asked, furrowing his brows as he noticed her body shake.

Y/n nodded slightly, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. "Yeah just there's so much happening right now, I keep hearing different types of voices and seeing figures around the corner of my eye." She mentioned.

Colby's eyes washed over with concern, having the need to protect her. "Did you want to take a break or anything?" He asked her, worry coated in his voice.

Y/n smiled at his empathy, "I'll be okay, just my body is buzzing a bit, but thank you." She breathed out, flustered at his concern.

Before they knew it, they had made their way to the darkest part of the building. The basement was where supposedly a lot of the children died from cruel punishments, creating a lot of angry spirits.

"Okay, so before we make our way around," Morgan began, turning back to the group of people. "There is a lot of negative energy here, they will try to hurt you. People always leave here with scratches and even have been pushed off the stairs going to the basement." She warned.

The group felt tense, nervous about what comes next. When they entered the dimly lit room, they could barely navigate through the dark basement as they stayed close to each other.

Y/n heard something fall, causing her to jump forward and instinctively grab the person's hand. That person being Colby. She blushed as she realized who it was, clearing her throat and mumbling an apology.

"It's okay," Colby assured, smiling but she couldn't see it. "You can hold my hand if you want, I'm sorta shitting bricks right now too." He chuckled, stretching out his hand to her.

She felt her heart skip a beat, hesitantly reaching for his hand. As she grabbed onto his hand, she felt her body rush with electricity. Y/n was glad that the room was too dark to see her flustered face.

"Alright guys," Morgan sighed, stopping under a lightbulb. "This was where most of the children actually died." She mentioned.

Y/n felt a wave of sadness coarse through her body, her lip beginning to quiver. Colby looked over to her, seeing the glisten of her tears.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked her, his brows furrowed with worry.

"Y-Yeah, I just felt this wave of sadness," she sniffled in response. "like I feel them telling me something so horrible happened to them." She added.

Colby felt sad to see her cry, wanting to wipe her tears away. Instead he gripped onto her hand firmly, reassuring her.

Morgan nodded at her comment, "It was actually gruesome," she began. "The kids would be punished here, starved, even beaten. A lot of that resulted in death."

Everyone in the group frowned, so much remorse for the poor children's lives that were lost.

"But," Morgan cut in. "Like I mentioned before, there is an adult spirit who haunts here, Ruby. It's rumored she was murdered down here or the other theory was she was pushed out of one of the windows."

They thought for a moment, feeling a cold chill rush through them causing them to shiver for a bit.

"Did you guys feel that?" Sam asked, pointing the camera towards them, ignoring their grasp on each other.

The two nodded, their eyes darting throughout the basement.

"Man, I don't like the vibe I'm getting here." Y/n whispered, trying to inch closer to Colby.

Colby agreed, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her closer to his body. He felt so protective of her, wanting her to be safe.

"Yeah, we don't want to be down here for too long," Morgan began making her way back to the exit. "People get seriously hurt here." She added, sternly.

Y/n's eyes widened, looking up at Colby. He looked back once he noticed her glance and smiled as he guided her towards the exit.

Once they exited the creepy basement, y/n let go as she thought Colby wouldn't want Sam to see their hold, causing Colby to become disappointed.

Morgan led the group towards the front of the building, Y/n walking alongside with her as Sam and Colby hung behind them.

"Dude, I saw you guys down there," Sam smirked, grabbing Colby's attention. "You know, holding hands," He teased.

Colby rolled his eyes as he flustered at his best friend's teasing, "So what?" He murmured.

"Admit it, you like her, don't you?" Sam asked, wiggling his brows slightly.

This only caused Colby to get more embarrassed, looking away from his best friend.

Sam only chuckled, reaching the doors to the building as they parted ways with Morgan. They thanked her, offering her farewells, and advice.

As soon as Morgan left, the group looked at each other. Y/n tried to avoid her gaze on Colby, not wanting to seem desperate for his attention.

"Alright, I think we should use the spirit box," Sam began, rummaging through his bag. "And I have some toys that might interest the kids." Sam added as he pulled out various children's toys and the infamous Alice box.

"Okay, sounds good." Colby agreed, nodding with the plan.

Y/n bit her lip, trying to figure out something she heard in the building. She figured it was nothing, brushing it off slightly. They began making their way back towards the doors they just exited, seeing the dark hallways stretch down.

Y/n froze for a moment, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. Soon, she started making her way towards the two who had already made it halfway down the hallway as they discussed plans.

She tried to catch up to them, but stopped when she saw it. She stopped at the intersection of hallways, staring down the much larger hallway.

Colby looked behind him, seeing y/n stuck in a trance like state. He made his way back to her, nudging her to see what's wrong.

"Y-You guys don't see it don't you?" She whispered, her eyes glued on the other side of the barren hallway.

Colby and Sam looked over to where she was staring, unable to locate the problem.

"No, Y/n we only see the hallway." Colby shook his head, worry creeping into his skin.

As Sam tried to begin his sentence, Y/n quickly cut him off.

"Holy fuck, that thing just moved." Y/n whispered, her hands shaking a bit.

"What? What did you see?" Sam asked, looking around the hallway.

Y/n turned to the two, her eyes widened slightly.

"Okay, as I was about to make my way towards you guys," y/n explained. "I stopped because I heard this whisper, almost telling me to come over here kinda. So I look down the hallway and I see this fucking thing, it was like tall and black and clothed with some weird black clothes, it kept staring at me even when you guys came over. Then it grinned and walked away." She elaborated, her voice beginning to shake as she covered her mouth a bit with her shaking hand.

Sam and Colby look at each other for a moment, worried.

"Yeah, okay so already a lot of shit is happening." Sam sighed, feeling a pressure build up in his chest.

Colby nodded, licking his lips as he began to speak, "let's just get this investigation over with so we can leave," he suggested. "Are you okay to keep going?" He asked Y/n, his brows furrowed.

Y/n nodded her head, exhaling a deep breath out. "Yeah, just that freaked me out but i'm sure it's nothing." She convinced herself.

With that, the three made their way to one of the bedrooms, trying to contact one of the nicer spirits.

"Okay guys, so we have the new Alice box," Sam pointed the camera to the machine. "It's like a spirit box, reading through channels and frequencies so the spirits talk through it." He explained.

Y/n looked around the room a bit, examining the surroundings well. Colby couldn't help but stare at her face, watching as her eyes darted around. Y/n looked over to Colby's glance and Colby smiled a bit, causing her to blush yet again. She's lost track of how many times she caught him doing things that she keeps reading into. Clearly he's being friendly, but really how friendly?

"Okay let's ask some questions for the little girls that stay in this room." Sam began, clasping his hands after he turned on the small device.

"...hello?..."

A female voice rang throughout the room, the echo bouncing off the walls. Y/n furrowed her brows, pulling out her notebook as she began to scribble words that came up in her mind.

She stopped at the word, she looked down and thought of it for a moment. She noticed something, a pair of eyes on her notebook. But it wasn't a spirit, just colby snooping. She smiled a bit, turning her notebook over to Colby.

He looked at her then lined the pieces of paper with the random ink on letters and drawings. As he read the words, suddenly the Alice box answered.

"...chair..."

Colby's jaw hung open, looking over to Sam and the paper. Y/n's actions mimicking his.

"Dude," y/n gasped, displaying her notebook to Sam and the camera. "I wrote that not even 2 minutes earlier, Colby saw it too." She explained.

Sam’s mouth hung open a bit, shocked. "No fucking way."

But before they could say anything else, the Alice box spoke again.

"...girl..."

"I mean, this is the girl's room." Y/n explained. The two guys nodded, still confused what the spirits are trying to say.

"...man... hallway..."

Y/n froze, goosebumps running down her body. "Oh my god, it's talking about that thing I saw." She whispered.

"Do you know the thing that Y/n saw in that hallway?" Colby asked into the open air.

The Alice box stayed silent for a moment, occasionally spewing random words that didn't make sense. But as they were about to turn it off, it spoke.

"... can't say..."

"Can't say? Why can't you say anything?" Y/n asked yet again, scribbling into her notebook.

"...won't..." "...let us..."

"He maybe has a hold on them," Sam suggested, rubbing his chin slightly. "It's possible it's a demon." He added.

"...evil..."

They looked at each other and didn't say anything for a moment, Y/n turning her notebook over to reveal the word written on the paper. evil.

Then the rem pod near the door started going off, a chill running down Y/n's back as the room became cold.

"Okay, this is actually so freaky," Sam chuckled a bit, pointing the camera towards the door. "The rem pod went off after Y/n wrote evil AND the Alice box said evil."

Y/n sat up, ears perking up a bit as she listened carefully to the air. "Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but the room went completely freezing, and I feel something negative in here." She blurted out.

"Yeah, I feel the cold," Sam agreed. "Could it be that thing you saw earlier?" He inquired.

Y/n shook her head, "No, that was like paralyzing fear," She noted. "This one.. it's just mad." She whispered out.

Concern painted on Colby's expression, clearly reading her body language as uncomfortable.

"Hey, maybe let's end it in this room," Colby proposed. "A lot more places to investigate."

Sam nodded, reaching for the equipment as he turned it off. Y/n sat up, but quickly recoiled forward. Colby noticed it, confused.

"You okay?" he asked, helping her stabilize herself.

Y/n looked around as Colby held onto her arm. "Y-Yeah, just something pushed me," She answered. "like I was standing up, and I felt a shove on my upper back."

The group quickly exited the room, making their way down to the basement. They were going to explore more of the place, but seeing how y/n kept being targeted clearly for her abilities they weren't comfortable making her go through it.

The feeling of uneasiness returned, entering the frigid basement. The dim light still remained on, barely illuminating the space around them.

"Alright guys, we're going to the basement," Sam mentioned into the camera, showing the dark room. "We're going to do the Estes method down here, Colby is going to do it today." he spun the camera towards Colby's direction, zooming into his face.

"Wow, face of excitement right there." Y/n joked, causing Colby to break his monotone expression to light up with laughter.

She felt her heart jump, hearing his laughter brightening her spirit up. She could listen to it all day if she could. Colby soon sat on the barren concrete floor, Y/n handing him the blindfold followed with the headphones. His hands brushing up against her, followed by a smirk on his face.

She cleared her throat, backing away from him.

"Alright Colby, can you hear us?" Sam asked, testing out the volume. Colby doesn't say anything, listening to the random static coming through the headphones.

"Okay, whoever dwells in this basement, are you the supposed member of staff that passed away?" Sam questioned, awaiting Colby's answer.

"Perhaps." Colby replied.

"So it's a bit sassy." Y/n chuckled a bit followed by Sam's chuckles.

"Well, is it true you did rituals to keep this place running?" Sam added.

Colby stayed silent for a moment, trying to listen carefully to the voices ringing through.

"Force." Colby blurted. "protect," he continued.

They looked at each other, trying to decipher what was spoken.

"What did you do to protect this building?" Y/n asked, furrowing her brows.

"Colby." Colby said. "Crush."

Sam looked over to y/n and smirked a bit, "I think it's speaking for you."

Y/n smacked Sam playfully, a blush covering her face.

"Kissing," Colby furrowed his brow under his mask. "Tree."

Sam bursted into laughter, nearly dropping to the floor. Y/n covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. Colby, still oblivious to what's happening, is still spewing out words. Sam tapped him, alerting him to pull out of his trance.

Colby removed his blindfold, followed by the headphones. He noticed Sam's laughter and Y/n's embarrassed face behind her hands.

"What? What happened?" Colby asked, curious why Sam was practically rolling on the floor.

Sam calmed down, wiping the tears out of his eyes. “It said kiss and then tree,” Sam coughed a bit. “It was teasing you.” He pointed towards Colby.

Colby's face became warm, blushing until his face was red, “Yeah real funny, Sam.” Colby muttered with a sigh.

Y/n cleared her throat, cheeks still flaming hot. "Well, let's just continue what we came here for." Y/n grumbled, her arms folded on her chest.

Sam wiped his eyes, cooling down from his laughter. "Wow, that was too good."

Sam began making his way towards the stairs, leaving Y/n and Colby behind his trail.

"Sorry about him." Colby let out with a sigh, rubbing his neck.

Y/n smiled up at him slightly, "I-Its okay, I know he's just teasing." She blushed.

Colby simply nodded, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. It wasn't too long before they had explored the whole place, investigating where they could. But then the time to sleep in the actual building came, which y/n began overthinking about. She knew she agreed to sleep alone, but she was too scared after her encounter with that thing in the hallway.

"Alright guys, it's time for us to split up and sleep in separate rooms," Sam urged. "We figured with the whole Y/n seeing the spirit in the hallway, we're going to sleep in rooms next to each other just to ensure safety." Sam explained.

Y/n fiddled with her fingers slightly, anxiety beginning to heighten. She bit her lip as they began setting up camp in their rooms. She grabbed her sleeping bag, making their way towards one of the girl's rooms. her heart began beating against her chest as she sat on top of her sleeping bag, listening to every crack and noise around her.

She rubbed her face, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. But then she heard a faint knocking on the window directly behind her. She just stared at the moonlight that illuminated through the glass in front of her. She quickly sat up, quickly walking towards the closed door. As she opened the door, Colby's chest pressed up against hers. She yelped as she got freighted by the unexpected visit.

Y/n pressed her hand onto her chest, trying to calm herself down. "Holy shit Colby, you scared the fuck out of me!" She lightly slapped his chest.

Colby chuckled a bit, trying to lighten up the mood, "Sorry, I couldn't sleep, plus I knew this was your first time staying alone in a haunted place so I wanted to keep you some company." He admitted.

Y/n felt her heart softly flutter, touched by his gesture, "Yeah, I sorta kept hearing things, I was gonna go to you." She confessed.

Colby smiled, glad she found comfort in his presence, "Mind if I sleep in the same room as you then?" He requested.

"Not at all," Y/n quickly replied, walking back to her sleeping bag onto the floor. Colby followed, his pillow and sleeping bag in his hands. "I wonder if Sam is shitting himself alone." She chuckled as she hugged her knees close to her chest.

Colby sat next to her as he laid out his temporary bed, chuckling at the comment, "He'll be fine," He waved off, "After he laughed at us,he can sleep by himself."

Y/n laughed a bit, looking down towards the floor. Colby couldn't help but stare at her, admiring her features in the moonlight. She noticed his gaze, moving her attention back towards him.

"W-What?" She asked him, confused.

"Nothing," Colby shrugged. "You're just really beautiful." He whispered.

She flustered as she looked away as her cheeks painted with a deep color, "Oh, stop it." She muttered, playing with her fingernails.

Colby's fingers landed on her jaw, moving her to face back towards him. She looked up into his eyes, seeming to get pulled closer towards him.

"Well, it's true," He added, but couldn't help but lean towards her lips as his eyes kept glancing to her eyes and back to her lips. "I couldn't stop staring at you all day," he revealed.

She felt her body heat up, unknowingly pressing closer to him. "Well, maybe I knew," She replied, feeling his hand on top of hers. "Maybe I was staring too."

With that, Colby's lips landed on her. She gladly accepted as her lips pieced together perfectly. Colby's hand laced with hers, like previously that night. He lightly held her face, his thumb rubbing her cheek.

But soon, Colby pulled away, leaving them panting as they rested each other's forehead on one another. Y/n couldn't help but smile and chuckle a bit, causing Colby to wonder.

"What?" He wondered.

"Nothing," She added, rubbing her thumb on his hand. "Just, there were at least three little girls in here giggling." She confessed.

Colby let out a laugh, pulling away as he looked around the room, "Well, you guys should give us some space." He announced into the room.

The next morning, the sun began to shine through their window. The rays of light hitting their eyes, causing their eyes to flutter open. Y/n was the first one to notice him, seeing his wide smile on his face. Sam pointed the camera at the two, giggling as he noticed her to wake up.

Y/n looked over next to her, noticing the boy clung onto her as he laid onto her chest. She threw her pillow towards Sam, causing him to laugh loudly which woke up Colby. Colby rubbed his eyes, adjusting his vision to the bright room.

"What the-." Colby grumbled, looking up towards y/n's tired face.

"Dude, how long have you guys been cuddling?" Sam exclaimed, putting away the camera.

"Shut up sam." Colby muttered, his head landing onto his pillow. y/n sat up, covering her face.

"Sam, it's too early for this, can you please leave us alone." Y/n groaned.

"Fine, fine I'll let you love birds be." Sam teased, wiggling his brows a bit before he shut the door behind him as he left.

Y/n looked over to Colby who was laying on his side. She smiled a bit, still exhausted. He returned the smile, still amazed by her beauty.

"Does this mean you'd go out with me? or do you already know that I was gonna ask you out?" He finally asked.

Y/n chuckled dryly, "Colby, I’m a medium, not psychic," She rolled her eyes playfully. "But yes, I will go out with you."

#karla's favs 🫀#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine

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