Matters Of The Heart.

matters of the heart.

harwin strong x reader

on princess rhaenyra's wedding night, harwin couldn't help but grow jealous as he watched daemon dance with you.

warnings: fem! reader, smut, angst, daemon being a menace, reader is called "princess", jealous harwin, virginity loss, slight corruption kink, size kink, overstim, pussy drunk harwin, praise, body worship, possessiveness, breeding kink. MDNI/18+ only.

word count: 2.1k

note: just watched the new episode and I'm down bad for him so can we all agree that ser harwin strong is the hottest knight in all of westeros?

— i don't give anyone permission to translate/copy my works. If you enjoyed please consider reblogging or leaving feedback <3

Harwin watched with a clenched jaw from the sidelines as the rogue prince twirled you around, his hand resting close on the small of your back while he whispered something hilarious in your ear because you just broke out in a soft giggle.

"Say princess, should we ditch the wedding and take to our own sources of entertainment?" Daemon's words had a grin stretching on your lips, "I think that ought to offend our families, my prince."

"It ought to offend more than just our families." The targaryen smirked, his eyes catching onto harwin's as he pulled you flush against his torso,

"such as the commander of the city watch for instance." Daemon's lips brushed against your ear, "he appears to be quite taken with you,"

You scoff in response, "and yet he'd rarely ever speak to me." Daemon chuckling at you made you roll your eyes,

"you're mistaken, princess. That boy is clearly smitten at the likes of you." He spun you around, lips ghosting above yours as he said that.

Before he could advance, he was yanked off you firmly but subtly, "it's rude to interrupt a dance like this," Daemon speaks, looking at the man who just shoved him away, "breakbones."

"Ser harwin—" you start but harwin's arm around your waist leads you away from the silver haired prince, "I think I'll have the next dance, if you don't mind," he said through gritted teeth, "my prince." You could feel the disarming tension between them.

"That was quite the show you put on there," you said in a hushed voice as the knight led you across the dance floor, "I'm sorry, princess."

But you know he isn't sorry. Not one bit. Especially when daemon was intentionally trying to get on his nerves by getting too cozy with you right in front of him, knowing full well of the way harwin pined for you.

To be honest, you thought daemon was just bored and needed to fuck things up but he couldn't do that on a greater scale because his brother would be upon him the very next instance. So he settled for passing off the young Strong as compensation.

"Would you escort me to my room, ser?" You whisper, tilting your chin up to look at the knight who was leading you on the next dance as the song started, "I think I'm quite tired from all the ordeals as of today,"

harwin seemed to hesitate for a moment before complying with his lips pressed in a tight line. His large hand remained on the small of your back as he helped you through the crowd, his warmth bleeding into your skin just from the simple contact, leaving tingles running through your spine,

"good night, princess." He spoke up as you came upon your door, "don't be so uptight, ser harwin." You smiled at him and he had to admit that it made him melt a bit, "come in, join me for a drink or two."

With a sigh, he gave in. It's too easy, you thought but then again it takes little effort to convince someone to do something they desire. Its the matters of the heart at play here.

"Say commander," you start with a slight slur after sipping on your glass of wine as your companion settled in the seat opposite to you, "what was all that about?"

Harwin gulped down his initial words before speaking, "my apologies, princess. It was rude of me to interrupt your time with prince daemon,"

You rose from your chair, walking around the table and towards him, "Then why'd you do it?"

Shifting in his seat, harwin's eyes followed you, "You deserve better than him. Someone who isn't," resting your palms on the armrest of his chair, you leaned in close to his face, "a scheming scumbag, someone who didn't abandon his wife—" his breath hitched once you straddled his lap, you'd knees bracketing his thick thighs,

"sounds like you'd make a perfect candidate," you bring your hands up to cup his face gently and he's tempted to give in to your feather light touch. His eyes almost fluttering close when your thumb strokes along his jaw,

"I can't." He replies, his jaw clenched tight and his hands coming up to rest on your waist to hold you in place,

"I'm not a prince." There's a slight melancholy in his eyes as he says that, "you're a princess and you deserve a prince who will take good care of you, who will rule beside you—"

"I don't want a prince, I didn't choose a prince, i chose you," your words hush him up, putting him under a spell as he watched you close in the distance between, "ser harwin strong," you whisper against his lips, "I want you."

Your hips bucked against his to accentuate your words and it was his breaking point just as soon as the next words left your lips, "cause I love you and I refuse to be stick in a loveless marriage with some prince—"

harwin's huge palms were cradling the sides of your face and his lips were upon yours in an instance. All the restrained emotions broke through and poured into the kiss, letting you feel his devotion and him absorbing your desperation thoroughly.

Your fingers tugged on the strings of his vest in haste, letting the fabric loosen and expose his broad chest to you while your lips moved against his,

"I won't let that happen to you." Harwin's voice is a gentle whisper soothing your heart. He held your wrist in his larger hand, leading you to press your palm against his chest, where his heart is, "I pledge myself to you, y/n."

A smile crawled on your lips at his sincerity, "and I accept you, harwin." Your hand slid up to curl around the back of his neck, "you're mine as I am yours."

Your lips collide as he stands up with you tugging away at his clothes while his hands wasted no time in sliding your gown off of your body before they hooked under your thighs, "I love you," he whispers breathlessly as he carried you over to your bed effortlessly, dropping you gently on the luxurious cushions,

"my beautiful princess," his huge palms cupping the swell of your breasts fully, "all mine to claim," he managed to say before his mouth descended upon your breast, lips wrapping around your nipple while his hand paid attention to the other one, rolling the bud in between his fingers and relishing in the soft gasps he pulled from you,

"mine to worship," he whispered into your skin, leaving a trail of feathery kisses down your torso, "and mine to destroy."

Harwin's thumb glossed over your glistening cunt, his other hand settling on your thigh in an attempt to hold your legs apart. But seeing how easily his fingers slid inside, he couldn't help but chuckle, "you're soaking the sheets, princess." The thought of being the first one to see you like this, to make you go crazy with desire, had blood rushing to his cock.

"Just fuck me, harwin," you breathe with an air of need, "calm down, I need to prepare you or I'll break you apart." His snicker only added more oil to the fire,

"I can take you." You sniped, holding his gaze in a challenge till he pulled his fingers out with a smirk only to replace them with the head of his cock lined up at your entrance,

"Are you sure about this?" He asked again, "yes, need you inside me," your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, "please, harwin," even though your voice was barely audible, he heard it.

And oh did it make his reign of control snap, "fine," harwin said just before shoving his cock inside your tight little cunt,

"fuck!" You cried out, nails digging crimson crescents on his back as his muscles flexed under your very touch, "you alright, princess?" Concern spiked his tone as he halted in his movements, "Do you want me to pull out?"

"No," your teeth worried your lower lip cautiously, "you're too fuckin' big, 's all." The short chuckle you're met with makes you huff and slam your fists against his chest softly, "perhaps it will not be an appropriate time to say I told you so."

"Fuck," you curse under your breath as he shifts slightly due to the fits of his laughter, the movement causing both of you to groan as his cock stroked against your walls,

"fuck you and your," you paused to bite back a soft moan, "stupidly big cock," Harwin grinned at your words, "that's what you're currently doing, princess."

He pulled out almost all the way, leaving just his tip inside before thrusting back in, your slick helping him slide in effortlessly while your back arched with his name on your lips as he fucked you, "for what it's worth, you're doing really well for your first time,"

The burn of being stretched set your nerves alight, "shut up and fuck me," you hiss, tears welling up in your eyes as your cunt clenched tight around him, desperate for more. The glassy look in your eyes made something snap inside your knight, "as my lady wishes,"

Rolling his hips into yours, he rasped, voice thick with lust, "I will fuck you till i am all that remains in your mind," he spoke in a deep grunt as he thrust inside your pussy, hard.

Your pussy flutters around his length with a breeze of moan falling from your lips. Harwin leans over to take your trembling lips in a kiss, "you're gorgeous."

His balls slapped against your skin while the wet squelches of your cunt sucking in his cock floods the room, "I cannot wait to see you coming undone beneath me," his hand grabs yours, intertwining your fingers with his as his hips snapped into yours at a steady pace.

Each drag of his cock settling heavy against your walls, the sheer girth of him making hot droplets of tears spill down your cheeks which harwin was quick enough to kiss away, "you are taking it so well," his whispers of praise had little moans rumbling at the back of your throat, "being so good for me,"

A strained chuckle was on his lips as you bucked up into his thrusts, "the princess wants more?" His inquiry was met with a hungry kiss as your fingers tangled in his brown curls and pulled him forward, "always." You whine, breathless, "I must abide by your order then," he picked up his pace, going deeper and harder with each thrust of his hips,

"You are mine," he couldn't help but grit out, the sudden image of daemon pulling you against his body with his hands all over you made his voice drop an octave, "not Daemon's, not anyone else's,"

"All yours," you comfort him, tugging on his hair and biting on his lower lip, "fill me up, harwin." His eyes widened in slight shock before a grin spread on his lips.

His forehead dropped on yours as his thrusts grew sloppy, deep grunts mixing with your moans as you both neared your high,

"harwin," you came with his name rolling off your tongue in a desperate plea while he almost growled, his chest vibrating with the animalistic sound as his hot cum filled up your twitching cunt. Dropping beside you, harwin heaved.

A silence dawning upon you two as you caught your breath before harwin turned towards you with a warm smile,

"marry me, princess."

By Your Side

warnings: mentions of death/hanging (very brief), forced to marry jason lannister, f!targaryen!reader, not proofread

summary: as a targaryen, you must do your duty to strengthen your family’s alliances. that means marrying whoever your father chooses, regardless of your love for someone else.

author’s note: more harwin woooo. also I just know harwin would hate and beat up jason lannister without question.

You had never been so envious of Rhaenyra.

You hadn’t minded when she had been made heir, you’d been happy for her. You didn’t care that your father favored her, that she was ‘the realm’s delight’– you were content to be hidden behind her shadow.

But one thing you would always be jealous of was how your father allowed her a choice.

He had allowed her a choice of who to marry before she wedded Ser Laenor– a choice that was not afforded to you.

Viserys had grown ill– and quite frankly tired– of fighting with his daughters on political matters. So, after Rhaenyra’s chaotic wedding to Laenor and the binding of the houses Targaryen and Velaryon, it was your turn.

The King announced your betrothal with no ceremony. He requested you attended a meeting of the small council a week after Rhaenyra’s wedding, which was of no surprise to you. Your father often requested either you or Rhaenyra to attend and listen in on the going ons of Westeros.

But this council was different. As you sat in your chair, your fingers fiddling with the small dragon glass sphere in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. With one daughter wedded, you knew that your father would seek to marry you off, too.

“Princess,” it was the lord hand, Lyonel Strong speaking. “If it please the King, I was hoping you would consider my eldest son, Harwin, as your husband. I know you have many suitors asking for your hand–”

You opened your mouth to speak, but your father beat you to it.

“I apologize, Lord Lyonel, but I have already betrothed my daughter to another. She is to marry Lord Jason, of House Lannister.”

You resisted the urge to gag, anger and jealousy bubbling in your gut like a boiling pot about to overflow. Your hand clasped the dragon glass sphere fiercely, your knuckles whitening at the force.

“Father, if I may–” you began, but Viserys waved a hand and shook his head.

“You may not. It is settled. He is Lord of Casterly Rock, and a strengthened alliance between our families is of utmost importance.”

You shut your mouth, teeth grinding together in discontent and rage.

The remainder of the council meeting went by agonizingly slow. You sat there quietly, jaw clenched as you toyed with the seams of your dress. You could feel the occasional pair of eyes watching you, but you kept your gaze trained on the table in front of you.

As soon as you father rose and the council was dismissed, you sprung from your chair. Your walk was swift as you practically ran from the chamber, pushing through the heavy wooden doors and into the corridor.

Ser Harwin Strong, your personal guard, was waiting for you by the doors. At your abrupt exit he startled, straightening and following you without hesitation.

“Princess, if you would slow–” he began from behind you, quite surprised at your speed. He had never seen you so eager to be away from a place– or perhaps he had never seen you so worked up about something.

Harwin had been your personal guard since Rhaenyra’s naming as heir. Although most men vied for the chance to protect the future queen, he set his sights on you.

Your father had granted him the position with no protest. From then on, Harwin had been a constant figure in your life. Sure, you’d met him before he became attached to your hip. Rhaenyra had introduced you to him numerous times– but you never spoken beyond that.

Perhaps you were guilty of stealing glances when you thought he was not looking, or wishing he would ask you to dance at a festival. So what? Wishes seldom came true.

But then he became your guard, and your attraction to him reared it’s head. It was no secret he admired you– both from afar and up close. But you were slow to allow yourself to admire him.

However, after years of being together nearly every day, you either learn to love someone or you learn to hate them. Luckily for Ser Harwin, you learned to love him.

That made this whole predicament so much more difficult.

“I will not,” you threw over your shoulder, your feet stomping up the stone stairs as you made your way through the castle.

You heard Harwin mumble something behind you, but you paid him no mind as you stormed past corridor after corridor. Finally, you made it to the royal apartments.

You threw open the door to your chambers, attempting to slam it closed behind you, only to be stopped by Harwin’s large figure.

He slipped into the room, shutting the door softly behind him and turning the lock. You ignored him as you threw yourself down onto a lounge, eyes watching the tall ceiling.

“Princess, what is the matter? You practically ran here,” there was a hint of amusement in his voice, but the moment you turned your icy gaze to him, he sobered.

“My father,” you spoke the words distastefully. “Has decided it is my turn to be wed.”

Harwin hummed as he approached your lounge, his hands clasped behind his back.

“No worries, Princess. I’m sure that my father will speak to the King.”

“He did,” you stated bitterly. “The King would not hear it. I am betrothed to Lord Jason Lannister.”

Harwin said nothing. He crouched beside you, his gloved hands reaching for yours. You allowed him to take them, breathing heavily through your nose as you thought of your now bleak future.

Jason Lannister was notorious for being an ass. Rhaenyra had corroborated that statement more than once during her time searching for a husband. She had narrowly dodged his attempts for her hand, but you had not been so lucky.

“It seems that my father has learned his lesson through my sister. I am not afforded the choice of a husband. Instead, I must mary this vile man and be forced to bear his vile children.”

Harwin chuckled softly, pressing his lips to your knuckles. You turned your head, eyes narrowed as you looked upon your knight.

“You find that amusing?” You questioned.

“I find you amusing, your highness. Your dramatics are quite entertaining.” He pulled back from your hands in favor of looking into your eyes.

“This is not meant for entertainment, Ser Harwin. This is a serious matter.”

“Most serious, Princess.” He replied, lips turning up in a teasing grin.

You huffed, pulling your hands from his and shifting your body in the lounge. Now you lay with your back towards him.

“It is not the end of the world, my love. You are strong, and you will not let a leech like Jason Lannister change that.”

“He will not change it,” you confirmed, your back still turned. “But what will he do to try? I cannot imagine being forced to spend days and nights with him. From what Rhaenyra has said of him, he seems truly awful.”

“I will be with you,” Harwin spoke. His hands moved to your side, gently pulling you back towards him. You went without protest.

He captured your chin between his forefinger and thumb, turning your face so you would have to look at him.

“I will be with you,” he repeated, his eyes locked with yours. “I will never let him do what you do not want him to do. I will not leave your side, and I will not stop loving you, no matter the lord you marry.”

“Careful, Ser Harwin,” your voice was low as you spoke, humor creeping into it as your lips quirked up in a small smile. “Such talk is treasonous. A princess and her knight? What would the realm think?”

“I do not care,” he answered honestly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Let them hang me. If it were up to me, you and I would leave this place and escape to Harrenhal. You would be my lady wife and we’d do whatever we pleased.”

You did not speak for a moment, weighing your thoughts and words.

“I do not see why my father refused your father. A union between the families of the King and his Hand–”

“Your father is doing what he believes is best. The Lannisters are powerful allies,” Harwin interrupted.

“Mayhaps, but I believe we have stronger allies closer.”

“Mhm,” Harwin hummed. “How much closer?”

You grinned, brushing your nose against his. “Oh, I dunno, maybe on this corridor?”

“That far?” He replied.

“This room?” You tried.

“A little closer.” He said.

“Mayhaps right beside me?” You giggled.

He smiled at the sound of your laugh. Harwin tilted his chin then, brushing his lips on yours.

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes. If it were up to you, you would stay in this moment forever. But it wasn’t up to you, and duty was a cruel mistress.

“We could always run away,” you told him, your voice a whisper.

“You and I both know we are bound to our duties.” He responded, and you sighed.

“No more dwelling on this matter,” he spoke after a moment, his lips just barely touching yours as he talked. “It does no good to worry.”

You hummed in agreement, eager to free yourself from those thoughts– if only for a moment. You pressed your lips to Harwin’s and he responded quickly. The kiss was soft, full of unspoken love and promises between the two of you.

That was one thing you loved about Harwin. He was subtle with his affections, but he was also so protective of those he loved. You knew that everything he said had been true– that he would gladly die if it meant he got to love you for a moment longer.

And although you would not marry him, you knew what you had would not falter. Harwin had been there before, and he would be there after, Jason Lannister be damned. The pair of you had snuck around for years, what’s a few more?

Harwin pulled back from you, one gloved hand coming up to cup your cheek. His thumb traced the line of your cheekbone as he looked at you fondly.

“I wish I could stay longer, but I fear my father would have my head. I’m to see him about matters with the City Watch.”

You nodded in understanding. You reached out a hand, brushing a stray curl from his eyes.

“Farewell, Ser Harwin. I’m to be at the dragon pit soon, anyway.”

He stood, his touch lingering until he could no longer reach your face. You sat up, watching as he bowed his head, gave you a small grin, and said a quick ‘princess.’

You watched him leave, and you didn’t rise until the wooden door closed behind him, already wishing that things were different like you had so many times before.

pairing : obsessive! dom eren x god complex reader *wink* *wonk*

rating : smut, 18+, fluff, crack (?)

wc : 53k

cw : degradation, choking, semi public sex, art student! eren, cockwarming, pussy spanking, mention of bruises and injuries, breeding kink ish, obsessive behavior, stalking, borderline yandere 😁 also pliz I’m new so if this bad lemme know

summary : at the very end of graduation, it’s time to say goodbye, college is over, now off to the real world. But before the farewell, you as the student president arrange the one last time after party as a sweet goodbye message, little do you know eren have other plan.

“DO WE HAVE TO?” you murmured as Hitch pushed your back while both of stepping inside of a coffee shop. Fragrance of coffee bean, vanilla air freshener wafted to your nose, the comforting wooden minimalist arabica design greeted your eyes for its pleasing aesthetic scenery.

“Yes, we have to i mean how bad could it be?” she grinned, pulling your arm to her clutches while both of you scoured inside, “besides, the past must stay as the past, it was just a silly president election it’s not like he would hold grudges against you for getting elected,” she continued, referring to the big college event far ago before the senior year. 

That one time when you and Eren Jaeger applied to be the student council president, and like how history spoke, the winner rejoiced, and nobody really care about what happens next to the loser. It was a though fight, you were quite determined to take that core position with your persona, you believed that you could bring greater goods for the community, and you DID do good, but Eren fought back passionately, and you remembered you could see fire in his eyes during his speech at the debate election, he may not smart but he’s clever, maybe a little aggressive but hell does he moved so many people’s heart, you remembered when he was standing tall and brave on that podium while his sea green eyes glued the room together, the intimacy that is fiery and optimistic, but as the whole world know destiny said otherwise, without your own anticipation 

you won. 

And since then your reign begun. You rule well, you made plenty achievements as student president and you never been so proud of yourself, since then you never lose your dedication for your people, and the feel of being a victor, and oh how you loved the feel of being powerful. 

You and Hitch walked upstairs to the second loft of the coffee shop after you both ordered the drinks you wanted, “I dunno Hitch, i don’t think that this is a good idea,” you mumbled to the girl next to you, while you scratching the back of your ear, “when Armin said not to mess with Eren i think he meant it.”

Sure you were delighted with your victory, but you still couldn’t help yourself to feel bad for Eren, there’s this strange tingle of guilt vine your stomach when you, the possessor approached your ex rival far a month ago, he gave you this bitter dirty look as you waved him a polite good morning, then he stormed off without a single word, you felt like he was prestige to look into your eyes since then. 

“And when i said he was a wuss, and a man child for going all off emo after that election i also meant it,” Hitch rolled her eyes, she pat your back as a reassurance before you two finally found the person you’ve been looking for, almost unrecognizable from the last time you guys bumped to each other, for a moment your eyes widened to the now Eren Jaeger.

 There he was sitting all pretty at the smoking area, his hair was pulled onto a messy bun with a few loose strands on his nape, he was far more built than the boy you used to know, his bushy eyebrows looking furrowed to a sketchbook, the charcoal pencil he’s holding dances on top of it. He was styled in a thin knitted black long sleeve top that hugged his muscular body tightly, army green cargo pants, and combat boots — you know, those kind of boots you wear to a rock concert just to kick someone — his rolled sleeves, revealing his veiny arms that covered with tattoos. His long legs is stretched to the chair next to him while he is leaning against the wall. 

Hitch glanced at you, she cackled noticing you googling at Eren, she pulled you by your wrist approaching the brunet, “you’ll be fine,” she snickered, while you could only let out a soft sigh, here goes nothing. 

Hitch signal her presence to Eren with a light cough, a small thud hit the surface of his sketchbook after he dropped his pencil. His gaze shifts to both of you who were standing by his side, he raised his left brow when his eyes met yours, you stared back at Eren and he outstared you blankly, “Jaeger,” you hesitated. 

About time you finally came to me.

“Y/N,” he replied, calling you by your first name. His expression never change, they’re rather cold, unimpressed, he studied both of you, then back to you, he lift his chin up as he locked his eyes on you, “you brought a friend.” Intruder, he finally said after a brief silence, Eren closed his sketchbook and then cracked his knuckles, Hitch pulled you, taking a seat in front of Eren. 

“Now let’s skip the chit chat, because by the way Eren, you smells musty,” Hitch waved her hand in front of her face, she’s not wrong though, he smells like tobacco and axe body spray. Furthermore when Hitch explained the reasons of hers and yours arrival to Eren, his gaze never really left you, sometimes he would spare Hitch small glances and nods as confirmation of himself still listening, but his attention was on you. 

And you willingly stares back, you still couldn’t read his expression, they’re as calm as the morning blue sky, they’re just so empty it sucks you in, maybe it’s the blunt hatred and envy from him for your presidential position, or maybe it was something else, you even almost think that you two are basically eye fucking each other. 

You extended him the proposal and the selected material details to him, it’s almost graduation, and you’re running out of time to find someone who could make an exclusive design for the jackets you are planning to make as a gift for the after party event. The other councilor members and you also haven’t decide the theme yet, it has to be perfect. Your last hope is Eren, the fine arts student all the girls in school droll over, even though his charisma was slightly dimmed after his loss at the election, he still got his charm, and you really prayed to Goddess Fortuna because you don’t want to risk looking for someone else to customize this specific special item and just to get disappoint by the erratic result, at least when Eren agree to take the work, someone could watch over.

“No fucking way,” Eren let out a smug chortled, “the president needs my help,” he added in a sneering tone. Cute. 

“So you agree or not Eren,” you try to suppress your nerve, and you really try not to punch his cocky face, the way he throw his head back a little so he gave you this kind of kubrick stare, gazing into your soul as if he wants to eat you alive, and just like they said, if looks could kill, you’re probably be ripped apart by now. 

“What if i say no?” he continued, tapping his boot’s toe on the wooden floor. 

“You’ll waste your talent,” you gift a thin smile that hides a very big urge to stab him repeatedly. 

Eren chuckled, he looked away towards the window before he lean forward to you, “What happen to the other art students, L/N? Did they finally acknowledge your overly perfectionist bossy self or what?" 

"And what about it?” you argued, leaning to his face, he wanted to humiliate you, he wanted you to get on your knees and beg, but you still have your dignity. 

“Uh, what is this,” Hitch hesitated, “i am highly uncomfortable with the atmosphere we created in this room,” what’s with the eye fucking? Hitch thought, she felt like she’s interrupting a really heated make out session but instead of kissing it was exchanging pure hatred, Hitch nudged you by your elbow, giving you a look. 

You gritted your teeth and pursed your lips together, leaning closer to Eren’s face, “Alright, if this is about that stupid president election we had together grow up Eren! The world doesn’t evolve in your stupid drama queen head, so please since i’m asking you nicely before i could fu-” You stopped your bust as a waitress came over with the drinks you ordered earlier, you glared angrily at Eren as you caught a tug of amused smirk at the corner of his lips, it was the fact that you desperately needs his help but still play all bitchy, he found it funny. 

Sure you have your dignity, and he is willing to destroy it just because he can.

After the waitress left, you tasted your fresh latte angrily, making Eren chuckled under his husky breath, while on the other side Hitch is silently witnessing the tense between you two. 

“Fine,” Eren broke the silence after a few minutes since the waitress left, “i’ll take the work.” he sat up, you nodded and watched as that key necklace of his dangling out from his collar, and when your eyes laid on the toned chest that peaking under his shirt, you gulped your saliva and quickly looked away, “good, thank you for your understanding.”

You clasps your hands together and you could hear Hitch’s faint sigh of relief, “great so now i think we have our deal, you know Professor Levi’s tea shop right? tomorrow we’re doing a gathering, be there before 8, and if-" 

who says that i’m finished doll? Eren tug another smirk, "but with some condition.”

⊱✿⊰

“For real? No party organizer available until next January?” you groaned in frustration, frantically flipping through pages of your journal, Hitch and Armin walks by your side to the long table area.

Chaos. 

Chaos everywhere, you feel like your head is going to explode, your blood boils, and there’s this uncomfortable anxiety under your skin, crippling under you and devouring you slowly. You’ve been overworked yourself the entire night after your meeting with Eren, you were brainstorming for your graduation speech, activity recap, and of course other ornaments for the very last project you’re having in your senior year, you cried for three hours while listening to montgomery ricky then cried again over the document you accidentally deleted. 

You’re exhausted.

Mentally and physically, you woke up with puffy eyes and wrecked brain, but you knew that everything must go on, and no, you won’t back down, everything has to be perfect, 

It has to be perfect. 

Hitch pouted as she watches you typing on your laptop, she snakes her arms around your waist and leaned her head against your shoulder, watching you making some kind of budget recap, “sweetie you should rest and lay down.” She spoke with a soft smile. 

You pursed your lips together before you leaned your head on top of hers, not leaving your eyes from your laptop, “thanks Hitch, but i’m alright, i’ll just finish this and i’ll take a break for a bit.” You just can’t really trust anything without yourself being under control or watching over, you’re afraid that everything would astray far from your definition of ’perfection,’ this empire you’ve been building, and this is your last legacy the next generation will remember, and you wanted it to be remarkable. 

“No dumbass, the last catering service was too expensive and apparently our university was filled with cheapskates.” argued a voice from across the room.

“Well we have no choice???” other voice argued back, “Or we can rely on your very bad cooking skill Kirstein, just pray nobody’s gonna die from food poisoning." 

You huffed at the sight of Ymir and Jean who was sitting face to face on the floor, both are on their phone scrolling on google, you looked around and found Sasha, Marco and Connie, chatting across you, and you looked over to the three people next to you, your vice president Hitch, your treasurer Armin, and your secretary Mikasa. You couldn’t help yourself but smiling at your team, they works so well. 

Then you frowned as your realized something, "Have Eren-" 

A short blonde girl with a tray of drinks and snacks entered the room, "Y'all snack time!” she called out with a large grin on her face.

Ymir’s face lit up as she walked up to her girlfriend, Sasha sprinted towards Historia, going feral over food as usual. 

“Ugh finally,” you chuckled to Jean’s mumble. Soon, half of the room crowded the blonde girl, reaching for snacks and drinks, your eyes fixated as you slowly notice the presence of the familiar sea green eyes, you watches as Eren strolls inside of the meeting room, he yawned before he took a seat on Hitch’s place, your frowned slightly, “excuse you?" 

"Excuse me?” he replied, plastering that damn cocky smile, he looked to you up and down, definitely mocking you under his degrading gaze, dammit y/n did you overworked yourself?

“Well have you look at yourself, President.” he snickered, suddenly a sketch design laid in front of you, you shift your eyes to Eren, before you took the papers on your hands. Soft grazes of colored pencil and ink, the art was delicate yet firm, “what is this?” you asked dumbly to the design of two bomber jackets, each of the jackets has their own scrawled side notes of the color details, embroidery, and even fabric material.

“Both jacket will be make from satin, no argument, satin,” Eren spoke, he pointed his polished finger nail to the design, “the girls will have the yellow one, the boys will take the red, it’ll have our Uni symbol and our number,” he explained, “should be ready as soon as possible,” Eren watches you closely, waiting for you to say something. Part of him…..just wants you to react, just anything, just any reaction exclusively for him. 

You blinked slowly, wow. Honestly it’s beautiful, looks like it was Harajuku style inspired, you can’t wait to touch the final craft, you glanced at Eren, “thank you,” you spoke finally, “it’s really beautiful.”

I’m glad you like it. “Of course it’s beautiful, i made it,” he replied with a smug face, he cracked his knuckles then tapped his fingers to the wooden table, “now now, what do we have here." 

It was part of Eren’s condition. One, he wanted to be fully involved in the graduation ceremony prep and the after party. Two, most importantly nobody touch his creation while he have full control of it, you reluctantly gave him the responsiblity to handle the venue decoration and the theme, most of the people in your team weren’t really pleased with that decision, but like you all have time to think? But after considering it, you felt like it would be good idea to have extra hands helping. 

Anything,

To reach the absolute perfection.

⊱✿⊰

"I’m so glad, that this is almost over, because i could not bear drinking another monster and espresso or i might get caffeine intoxication,” you grinned as you earned chuckles through the dinner table, it was all paid off, and the grand event was right in front of your eyes, you could already imagine yourself standing on that podium, delivering your grand speech, high and god like.

But now, celebration first. 

The admiration looks from your team and the last year student council team — who decided to join for the gig — feeds your ego, there’s Zeke, Nicolo, Reiner, Pieck and her girlfriend Yelena, Porco and Bertholdt. Your friends really look up to you, from the day you earned your position, they knew they could count on you. “Thank you, thank you for all of the hard works this season, i would never ask for a better team, you guys are the best that i could ever wished for,” you grinned and picked up the can of beer from the table, everybody raises their drinks, and you looked at the edge of the table, where your graduated senior, Zeke Jaeger sitting down, giving you a proud look, he was a student president before you, “this is for everyone, our community has never been this great, because you all dedicated your hearts.” As you cheers together, you looked around, something is missing, you can feel it, yet you can’t find any solid answer for that feeling. 

It was a simple outdoor Korean barbecue party in your house’s backyard, after all done, you wanted nothing but to treat your friends, because that’s what they deserved for serving you right. It was returning favor, while waiting for the meat to be cook perfectly by your senior Nicolo, you sat besides Mikasa as you both chats, while Armin was next to her, busy with his phone. In the distance, chaotic guitar strums and jams from drunk Connie and Jean cracking the air together with everyone that hyping them up. You pressed your chin against Mikasa’s shoulder while both of you giggling over a twitter thread. 

“Eren said he’s coming over,” Armin announced to both of you, he looked down to his phone and let out a heavy sigh. 

So that was the missing piece. 

“Why’s the sigh?” you asked Armin.

Armin hesitated, he looked around everywhere that isn’t you, he rubbed his hand through his undercut, it feels like watching someone having a very conflicted mind war with themself, he then finally impaled you with a mixed expression, “Y/N,” he started, “i don’t know how to say this but…..” He glanced over at Mikasa, and you followed him. 

The dark haired girl rather gave him a surprised expression, a some kind of you did not! look. You exchanged the utterly confusion to both of them, Mikasa nodded slowly, “She needs to know, Armin." 

"I need to know what?" 

"What are you guys talking about?” you turned around and sees Eren standing right in front of you, bruised up and bleeding, his knuckles was fucked in a shade of dark red and purple, strands of hair falling in front of his face, Mikasa quickly stood up, “Eren did you—”

“Yes i did,” he shot her a cold glare, you could see from the corner of your eyes that Zeke started to approaching, Eren’s eyes then finally found Armin, who’s looking scared and nervous more than ever, “tell me, what’s the interesting story Armin?” his tone was striking and icy, under his husky voice, you could track hints of slurs because of alcohol. 

Armin went quiet, he gripped his knuckles, what is this? something must happened and you didn’t know, and you hated that. You hated when things was out of your reach. “It’s okay Eren, you should check your wounds, they look pretty bad,” Armin swallowed, his words came out more threatening than he anticipated. 

“No, no, no, i wanted to know what you gonna say to Y/N,” Eren moves closer to Armin, “you are not trying to tell her anything bad about me right?" 

They looked like they’re ready to throw hands, but Zeke was already slips between them, holding the both boys’s chests with his flat palms, "come on now guys, let’s not.” he hesitated.

“No, let’s.” Eren insisted, he slapped his brother’s hand, you quickly pulled him down by his arm, he flinched when he felt your touch, Eren glance at you, and for a split second his eyes went soft, it was that soft that you felt nothing but pure affection from his sea green eyes, then something took over his body, he suddenly pulled you by your collar, lifting you up, moving your face closer to his.

His eyes were bloodshot, you squeezed his wrists while kicking your feet on the air, “you,” he growled, his warm breath smells like alcohol, you blinked slowly, scanning Eren’s animalistic glare, but there is no hate in his eyes, you found yourself trying to look for it but there it none, instead there’s this raging desire, he looked at you like you were his prey, “Eren-” you choked, for the first time, you feel powerless.

“I hate you,” he hissed, but all you could sense was lie, his mortal fingers squeezing you so deadly but you feel the comfort of it, the bizarrely embracing lust, and his existence blurs all the noises around you, just you and Eren Jaeger. “you took everything from you,” he continued, “i woke up everyday wishing you dead." 

You knitted your eyebrows, and you feel your godly ichor rushes back through your veins, a disgusted smirk appeared on your face, belittling him for lying, "liar." 

Then huge arms pulled Eren from you, tackling him to the ground, Mikasa caught you before you hit the ground, Hitch stepped in front of you, shielding you from Eren who was struggling under Zeke, "Eren what the hell!” she shouted. Mikasa helped you up and pulled you close to her chest, “Y/N are you okay?” she sounded so scared, questions and assumptions popping in your head about what happens between Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. You looked up, finding Reiner helping Zeke restraining his own brother. You knew a minute ago that guy attacked you, but seeing Eren in that position just feels so wrong, you never thought you’ll get drew by a guy like Eren Jaeger, but here you are finding yourself shoving aside your pride while approaching the two blonds. You put your hand on Zeke’s shoulder, squeezing them gently, “it’s okay,” your delicate tone shocks him, “let him go Zeke." 

You could feel everyone giving you a jaw drop, but when all eyes on you, you find yourself only looking at Eren. 

After a tense moment, Zeke and Reiner finally let go of the brunet, you pulled Eren up then you put the tip of your fingers to his chin, examining his wounds, he scoffed and avoided your eyes, dropping his eyes to the ground. "Let’s get that clean up,” you mumbled and dragged him by his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Leaving everyone in a ambiguous silence. 

“Why are they leaving? the wagyu is ready.”

You walked upstairs to your room, no words exchange both of you before you finally entered the bathroom with Eren, you let go of his hand, your heartbeat strangely skipping inside your chest, while you were searching for the medicine kit in the cabinet, when you finally turn around, you found Eren already sitting on the toilet seat, you kneeled down in front of him and you opened the medicine kit, you pulled a towel from the drawer and stood up, wetting it in the sink, “what happen?” you finally spoke. 

Eren let out a deep chuckle, he wiped his bloody nose with his thumb then wiped it off on his jeans, gross. “Why do you care,” he asserted. 

You rolled your eyes and kneeled back in front of him, with dripping wet cloth on your right hand, “please you stormed on me, lifted me up and looked at me like you wanted fuck me against the table while also wanted to burn me alive at the same time.” you gave him a judging look. You took his hands, and then slowly pressed the dampen cloth on his bloody knuckles, he didn’t flinch, Eren remained silence while he watches you. You could feel his smirk while you were treating his wounds. “Have i told you how hideous you look tonight?” he asked quietly. 

“No, tell me." 

Eren then moved his left hand away from you, extending them, he caressed his thumb on your cheekbone, made you froze, his hand then traveled to your ear, it tugged your hair behind them, "i cannot.” He whispered softly. 

You looked up, and put the now reddish cloth on the floor, you moved closer to the burnet in front of you, you intertwined your fingers with his once again, the tense on his shoulders visibly relax while his pupils widened to the presence of you, “now would you tell me what happen?” your voice sweetened, melodic in his ear, and it seems like he’s lured enough by it. 

Eren huffed a chuckle, he looked down to both of your hands, “Had a fight with Pops,” he shrugged, “took the anger on the wall.” You moved closer to his face, close enough to smell the liquor in his breath. Eren stared at you, he never imagine he would have the blessing to be this close with you, he was always watching you from afar. Those interrogation towards Armin regarding you, questions after questions on your personal life, forcing Armin to dug deeper and helped Eren fulfilling his needs on you, he’d followed you after school, to your favorite coffee shop, your home so he’ll know your address, to where ever he could reach you, man… he’ll go after you to the edge of the world if that’s where you’re heading. 

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, and to be honest the question kind of scares you, because after these past few weeks of spending more time with Eren Jaeger, you finally caught in his fire, his flaming intimacy you thought was long gone, and you also surprises yourself for not getting pissed off by the feeling, because it makes you feel vulnerable. 

Eren grazes his thumb on your jaw as if you were made of glass, he kneeled down to the floor with you, so you both could be equal, no high ground. “The truth is my darling, i never was,” he confirmed, “after you won that election it was my last straw because from the first time i laid my eyes on you, Love…. You have bewitched me body and soul,” he’s been watching over you from the distance and you still as pathetic as he could remember, maybe it’s the way you stole glances at him, the way you would secretly checking him out but little did you know that he notices everything, he’s been reading you like an open book without having to flip through every pages, because you already spread open for him, “you have became the very thing that is out of my reach, Love. And for i have fancy you, and you’ll be mine not just in my mind but fully,” and he is itching to taste you. His warmth envelopes you to a sense of safety, he trails his hands to your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you melt like a candle on fire. Right above you stand an entity greater than yourself, the essence of mystery that fold itself in front of you, and with the universe speak between you, everything is a clarity. 

And you, you don’t get it, you thought it was all envy to the position you have, and for the first time, you crave something other than power, “Did you just quoted Pride and Prejudice for me, Jaeger?” you snakes your arms around his neck while his growing bulge strokes on your clothed cunt, the rough material of his jeans made your arousal grow thicker, “my, my, my i used to think that you were just a pretty face with zero common sense,” you teased, nuzzling your nose against him. 

His husky chuckle vibrates against your skin, without warning he pushes you up against the wall and you immediately jumped onto his waist with your legs, you gasped as your back hit the cold surface, Eren kneading your butt cheeks as he was holding you up, his chest pressed on yours, warm breath mixes together, “ouch, did you just call me dumb?” you snickered, Eren tilts his head before he smirked, “maybe we could be equally dumb after i make you babble nonsense with my cock.” His mouth devouring yours feverishly. Frantic gestures rid you and him of clothes on your body, while you helped Eren unbuckling his belt, his teeth grazes yours, tongues fighting for dominance with each other, he latched his lips onto yours, hungry for more taste, you started to sucking his bottom lip while Eren savor your taste, he pushes more for a deeper kiss, his hand fondling your clothed boob, then it slipped under them, as he found your stiffened nipple, you felt his smirk between your kiss, and a moan escaped from your lips, they’re already swollen and you knew you needed air soon, but without your realizing, you already breath through his air through the kiss. 

You unhooked your bra while Eren pressed you harder against the wall, his cock was already free from his jeans and boxer, his beautiful tip was coated in precum, when you finally exposed your breasts in front of him, the animalistic side possessed him back, Eren kneads your breasts greedily causing you to mewl, shivers running down your spine, and you unconsciously grinds you drenched cunt against his waist, Eren cackled. 

“What a fucking whore, you looked like a cat in heat." 

You whined when his flat palm hit your cunt, he rubs the dampen clothed surface of your clit, Eren brought his mouth to your breast and started to circling his tongue on your nipple, making your back arched and you grinding to nothingness of his waist, "whore,” he spat, a string of saliva bridge between your skin and his lips, “is this what you called a student president? i don’t think so.” Eren grip your throat and slowly adding pressure to your air circulation with his index finger and thumb, his other hand has been stroking his own cock for awhile, he uses his precum as lube and your eyes twinkled to the beautiful sight. 

Your lips parted, he let out a throaty groan to your ear just to tease you, “what if i just jack myself and leave you like this?” the menacing grin appeared on his face, your desperate look just pleased him even more, he groaned under his breath as he feeling himself twitching, and your drooling pussy just looking tastier than ever, Eren inhaled and faked a pout, “aw, what is it? don’t you want to walk around with my cum dripping from your slutty hole aren’t you? that is sinful my Love, won’t it gonna stain your pride, Miss President?" 

You cursed under you breath, and another slap landed on your cunt, you threw your head back as Eren squeezed you against the wall, "nu uh, bad words,” he growled, “what do you want, Y/N? Use your fucking mouth if you want something, did your parents never tell you?” another hard slap on your cunt made you gasp, you cried louder, and Eren shushed you while peppering kiss on your naked shoulder, “careful darling they might hear you from downstairs." 

He pecked your nose before he finally aims his cock to your entrance, stroking his tip to your dripping cunt, "what do you want, Y/N? say it.” He repeated.

“Your cock!” you whimpered, “please pound me with your cock…. please Eren.. i just want it inside..”

He slammed into you, causing you to let out a sharp noise, “Oh, like this?” Eren felt your soft warm walls hugging him so tightly, as if you guys just fit so perfectly together, he held his hand on your tummy to prevent you from grinding your greedy self, letting your cunt clenching him by itself, “fuck you’re so tight my Love,” he groaned subtly. 

“E-eren please move….. i’m begging you….” you sobbed so pathetically. Eren moved his face close to yours and pinned your wrists above your head, “this will need an outcome don’t you think?” he tilted his head, making you wept for his cock to move even more, suddenly an idea popped in his head, “I will move,” he said, “i’ll shoot my loads in you and then you’ll be mine, i want you to want me so badly, i’m going to imprison you, and then…. just then…it’ll be just you and me, always and forever,” he dug his face on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent so they’ll stay in his head, but he knew it won’t, you’re his own personal drug anyways, “promise, Darling?” Eren whispered against your skin.

You shivered under him, your eyes rolls at the back of your head, your pussy is aching with lust, so needy for his cock. You quickly nodded your head, “p-promise." 

Eren kissed your neck, sucking them briefly, leaving a visible mark on your soft skin, "good girl.”

He pulled his cock from you, leaving just the tip, before then he impaled, filling you up with his length, he slide so easily onto your meat, your legs shivered as he endlessly pushed deeper inside you, and you could feel his tip kissed your cervix, Eren then started to moves at a quick pace, “you like that so much hm? taking my cock like a little slut,” he said velvety, turning you on even more. He buried your moan into a deep kiss, his big arm scoot your hips close to him as he ramming his cock with no mercy onto your walls, his other hand still pinning your wrists, as if you’re gonna escape from him. You started to rolling your hips on him, making him move more faster, you’re both skin to skin, grinding onto each other desperately, “Eren….s'big…so deep…” you moaned. He continues to pound into you.

“Fuck, that’s right baby say my name.”

“Eren!”

After a minute he completely stopped, you opened your eyes and your face shows confusion, before you could ask any questions, he suddenly slams all of his length into you, causing you to yelp both in pain and pleasure, the lewd sound of skin slapping made you curl your toes, he pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow, you threw your head back, your tongue lolling out from your lips, he slamming all his length in and out of you repeatedly until you’re a shaking panting mess, an amused look plastered on his cocky face, and his hips didn’t stop dipping on you, not letting you think straight or put up any fight, “come on, fucking take it like the cumslut you are.”

You choked on your breath as the knot in your stomach getting tighter, “E-ren… hugs…hugs….?” you purred to him, he finally let go of your wrists and let your head fell against his shoulder, he increases his phase that you didn’t know was possible, you warped your arms around him as he did to you, and you dragged your nails through his sweaty back, Eren started to whisper sweet nothings as he felt himself twitching, he slurred curses underneath his groaned, his veins popped as he gripped you tightly, his muscles flexes at each moves.

You didn’t dare to question him when he said that he’ll fill you up inside, because no matter what your answer is, he’ll do it anyway. The sight of his hard rock abs and v lines sent you over the edge, “Eren i’m gonna cum—“

“cum with me, Darling.” 

You tasted the bitter tint in your tongue as you started seeing stars, you vision went black as Eren rides you to your orgasm while fluid started dripping down your thighs, your body is shaking uncontrollably, Eren let out a loud groan as he riding himself to his own high using your abused cunt, he shot his warm thick load onto your womb, making sure you take all of it, you buried your face on his neck, he slowly pulls out his cock and watches the white liquid oozing from your hole. Eren lifted up your chin, he cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, mixing your pants together, “mine.” he moaned to your soft plump lips.

“yours.“

⊱✿⊰

Parasite Eve

Q is for Question

When a patrol goes wrong, you realize you have to ask Joel the most important question of all…

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Warnings: Angst, gore-ish, feelings - so many feelings, mercy killings.  Additional Notes: Yes, the title is from Bring Me the Horizon lmao. Again, special thanks to my pal @detectivebarba for the idea. <3 If you'd like, recommended listening for this fic is Paralysed by Jamie Campbell Bower.

All it takes is a second.

One single second of you taking the wrong step, entering the wrong building, trusting the wrong person, and it’s over. You’ve always been careful, unstoppable. Today shouldn’t have been any different. After all, you were with Joel, the only person you truly trusted. And you were on the trail by the creek, the one you’re incredibly familiar with. It should have been easy like it always is. But all it took was one second. One. Stupid. Second.

It happened so fast that it felt like you were moving in slow motion. You rounded the corner while glimpsing back at Joel with a striking smile. And as soon as your eyes met, you felt it. A sharp pain in your shoulder that could have been prevented.

The feeling terrified you, but it was the look in Joel’s eyes that had you in tears. The joy within them died as horror took over, consuming his entire being, suffocating him as he pulled his gun from his holster and aimed it at the creature right behind you. He shot without hesitation, making you shake with uncertainty. And now, as he carries you back to Jackson, you can still hear the ringing in your ears.

Your mind clouds with a thousand and one thoughts, and you can’t hear Joel whispering positive affirmations in your ear. He’s holding you so tightly, but he sounds a million miles away. You can’t process anything he says to you. All you can do, really, is stare into his distressed hazel eyes, thinking about how beautiful they are; how beautiful he is. Something you should have told him more.

“Joel,” you say faintly, your trembling hands reaching for the collar of his shirt. “I…” You get cut off as the pain in your shoulder burns through your body. Your fingers clench against Joel’s chest as you wail out in agony. The sound is enough to crack Joel’s heart in half. He has to choke back his tears as he carries you home. He needs to be strong for you.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” he whispers, but you don’t hear it, too focused on the stinging that numbs you over. The way Joel holds you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt from another human before. It’s silly, but you feel safe. You feel protected even though you know there’s nothing he can do to save you.

Exhaustion hits you quickly. The adrenaline once pulsing through your veins has ceased, leaving you nothing but a drained shell of a person. Because of this, you can feel yourself dozing off in Joel’s arms. His voice is delicate and soothing, lulling you to sleep as his body heat seeps through his clothes and yours, alleviating your nerves.

When you come to, you find yourself in Joel’s bed. The wound on your shoulder has been cleaned and bandaged and Joel sits in the bed next to you, carefully playing with your hair. His face holds such adoration, but the smile on his lips is somber.

“Joel,” your voice cracks as you push yourself up. He frets over you in an instant, attempting to force you back down, keeping you safe and warm under the blankets where nothing can hurt you.

“Hey, what are you doin’?” He questions quietly, large hands gently grabbing you by the arms to keep you still. “You need to rest. Don’t get up. Whatever you need, I can get it for you,” he tells you with worry.

You sigh and reach a hand out to him, lacing your fingers affectionately. His body melts at your touch and you can hear his breathing pick up. Looking at him, you can see the tears threatening to break and cascade down his face. Oh, if he only knew the way you love him. The way you’ll always love him. If that was enough to save you, to save him…

“I don’t need anything,” you whisper, holding his hand. “I just wanted to tell you--”

“You don’t need to tell me anything,” he grunts, squeezing your fingers between his. “You’re fine,” he scoffs, swallowing down the lump in his throat, ignoring the vicious burn. “You…you’re perfect,” he says.

“Joel, please,” you croak, feeling your own heart shatter. He’s so stubborn, you know he’s trying to be brave. He’s in denial. But you have to say your piece before it’s too late. He needs to hear your words. They’ll be all he has left. “I have to.”

He shakes his head, turning away from you, the pain in his chest flaring through the cracks and sticking to him like glue. “Baby,” he warns, the shaking in his voice is prevalent, making it that much harder.

“I love you,” you tell him. “I love you so much. You have no idea.” Your lip trembles as warm tears spill down your cheeks. “You saved me in so many ways, Joel. And I will never be able to repay you for that, but I need you to know that I love you. That I love you now, and I will love you forever. In this life and the next.”

“Stop,” he warns again, but you see the dam begin to crumble. It’s going to hurt. Saying goodbye to him is going to hurt more than any of the pain you’ve experienced in this shitty world. But you have to while you still can. Before you lose your mind.

Ignoring his protests, you sit up in his bed, wincing at the soreness in your shoulder. He watches you with fearful eyes. But you push him back against the headboard and crawl into his lap. His arms wrap around you in an instant, holding you as close as he can, leaving zero space between your warm bodies.

“This is no one’s fault,” you say clearly. “Accidents happen. Luck can’t last forever.” Joel’s arms stiffen, his bone-crushing strength taking over as you speak the words he does not want to hear. “You can’t go back to your old ways, Joel, okay?” You weep as you think of past Joel and the loss he’s suffered. You’ll be damned if he turns into that man again. “Ellie needs you. Tommy needs you. This town needs you. Please don’t lose yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, heart beating rapidly, you can feel the vibrations against your own. His hot breath crashes over your face, his plump lips pursed and face stoic. “I’m fine because you’re fine,” he shrugs as if it’s just a scratch. “You’re fine,” he repeats.

Maybe it’s because you never expected to last this long in this world, but you’ve accepted your fate quickly. You know what’s going to happen. In three days, you’ll be gone. You will be gone. And you know that.

But Joel refuses to accept that right now. He just can’t. You can’t leave him. How is he supposed to live without you?

“I’m not,” you tell him, closing your eyes as you feel him brush over the bandage on your shoulder. “And I need… I need to ask you a question, Joel.”

“No,” he says quickly, harshly, shooting down your thoughts before you can even express them. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your wound, pretending it’s nothing. “Please.”

You know he’s in denial. And you know that if he keeps this up, he’ll never recover. But it’s still the first day. So you keep quiet and let Joel have this one. You don’t have the energy to argue, anyway.

He tilts his head to kiss you, and you jump back, keeping him at a distance. His forehead creases, looking at you with a pout. “Don’t,” you tell him.

“Let me fucking kiss you,” he demands. He grabs your chin, tugging you closer, but you wiggle away. You’re afraid. You don’t know how this works. What if you infect him with a silly kiss? No, that’s not an option. But Joel won’t hear your protests. “I want to risk it,” he urges. “I’m not going to spend this time without kissing you. Are you insane?”

You want to fight him. Tell him you can’t put him in that position. But with the way he’s looking at you, silently begging for you to give yourself to him, you find that you cannot say no.

“Okay,” you whisper, kissing his lips softly. He lets out a long sigh, kissing you back, his hands reaching up, fisting handfuls of your hair to keep you as close as possible. His lips shake as he kisses you like his life depends on it, like it’ll be the last time he gets to taste you. Your chest feels heavy as he whimpers against you.

You’ll miss these lips. You’ll miss his hands and the way they hold you. You’ll miss his voice and the sounds he makes. His face, his humor, his love…fuck, you’ll miss it all. So you have to savor every last second with him, every touch, every word.

That night, you don’t talk much. You let your bodies say what your words can’t. And when you’re done, you hold each other close. Ignoring the pain for the time being.

The next morning when you wake up, you’re surprised Joel isn’t beside you. For a second, you think maybe you’ve been stuck in a wicked nightmare. But then you shift around in the bed and place your feet on the cold floor. The aches flood through your limbs to your bones, and you glance over to your shoulder. The bandage is still there, glaring at you, mocking you.

“Joel?” You call out into the empty room. Your body feels stiff as you stand, sore joints pulsing with each move you make. You grab Joel’s sweatshirt from the chair beside the bed and slip it on to keep you warm. You pad out of the room, down the stairs, calling out for him again. “Joel? Are you here?”

The house is eerily quiet as you search the rooms for your love, sadness washing over you at the thought of him leaving you alone. With what little time you have together, you’d think he’d want to spend every minute at your side. But maybe he’s that deeply in refusal. The thought eats away at you until you hear the back door open and close.

Relieved, you scurry to the back of the house and peer around the corner and down the hall at the noise. Your worries fade as Joel’s face comes into view. He smiles at you, slipping off his boots and leaving them by the door before crossing to where you wait.

“Good morning, darlin’,” he coos, grabbing your face in his hands. He kisses your nose, then your cheeks, then your lips. “How are you feeling?” He asks. “Did you sleep okay? You were out for a while. I wanted to be back before you woke up. I went to the greenhouse to grab some fresh fruit. Thought I’d make us a nice breakfast.”

“I’m okay,” you say, being as truthful as you can be. You don’t look great, and you feel sick. But all things considered, you’re okay. “I mean, as okay as I can be,” you add.

“That’s good,” Joel nods, ignoring the worried look on your face. There’s no time for that. It’s day two. And although he’s done a pretty good job of denying your fate, he still wants to make the most of your time together. So he acts like everything is normal. For his sake, and yours. “Are you hungry?”

To be honest, you’re not sure how to answer that question. You don’t necessarily have hunger pains, but you have discomfort. You’re not sure how eating would go over, but for Joel, you’re willing to try. He went through the effort to plan a nice breakfast for you two. You have to accept. You want to.

“Sure,” you smile, stepping into him and sliding your arms around his middle. You hug him tight, the knots in your stomach coming undone as you feel safe in his grasp. He smiles at your snuggles, kissing the top of your head, holding you close. You feel so good in his arms. Fuck, you fit him so well.

He could hold you forever - he would. No one will ever take your place. You’re it for him.

Before he lets his emotions get the best of him, he untangles his arms from you and heads towards the kitchen. He has to keep himself together as he pulls out ingredients he can use to make some type of pancakes. Your favorite food.

It’s quiet as he gets to work, both of you afraid to break the silence. There’s so much to say, but you don’t dare to start. And Joel doesn’t have the capacity to listen. It’s like when a pet is sick, and you know the time has come to put them down. The best - sometimes only - friend you’ve ever had has to leave you. So you spend their last few moments spoiling them, showing them how much you’re going to miss them.

Joel refuses to acknowledge it, but it’s eating away at him. If he can pretend hard enough, maybe it’ll come true. Maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow and be all better. Maybe a miracle will happen and you’ll turn out just like Ellie… Wouldn’t that be funny?

He chances looking at you, stomach dropping as he sees how fragile you are. Your skin is already paling, color draining from your lips, eyes dull. A stark contrast to how vibrant you usually are, always lighting up a room with your smile, bringing joy to everyone with your laugh. It’s not you. You aren’t…you.

This house, he thinks as he looks around, is too big for just him. How is he supposed to stay here when you’re gone? Living in the darkness, in the empty shadows of you. You and Ellie, you are his reason for breathing. How will he carry on when part of him dies?

His throat tightens as the thought passes. Images of Sarah dying in his arms resurface, flashbacks of that horrific night present themselves like a familiar movie. He can’t pause, he can’t stop it. They come at him in bursts until his fingers are shaking.

“Joel,” you whisper, gingerly wrapping your weak hand around his wrist. He doesn’t waste a second, turning around and throwing himself into your arms. You gasp, bringing your hands to rest against his back and pulling him into you.

He's such a great, powerful man, you can barely hold him together. But he buries his face in your neck, his beard tickling the sensitive skin. And you embrace him harder, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades. You bite your lip to hold in your screams, but fuck, it’s killing you.

“I love you,” you hear him whisper, his warm lips kiss up your neck, desperate and feverish. He pulls back just enough so that his forehead presses against yours, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to his lips. He kisses your fingers, your knuckles, before placing them over his heart. His eyes glisten as they peer into yours. “I love you,” he repeats.

You nod, softening at his touch. His long fingers brush away the tears that stream down your face before cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing your lips. It’s just as passionate as the first time he kissed you, and just as meaningful as all the ones since.

“I’m always going to be here,” you tell him, knocking your hand upon his chest. “When you’re asleep, you’ll find me waiting for you. Whenever you feel alone, I’ll be around. Until we meet again, yeah?”

“Please don’t leave me,” he mewls in a voice so faint you think you’re hallucinating. “I can’t do this without you,” he admits solemnly.

“You can,” you say softly. “You’ve done it before and you can do it again.”

“Baby,” he whines, grabbing fistfuls of your clothes, bringing you into him. You aren’t close enough. He won’t be satisfied until you’re attached to him.

“I have to ask it, Joel,” you start, but he literally growls and pulls you back harshly. You frown at his anguish, knowing this is the last thing he wants to discuss, but holy shit, you need it. If he loves you at all, he’ll let you ask this fucking question. “Please, just listen to me, damn it!”

He’s taken aback by your outburst, and guilt settles within his gut. He doesn’t mean to make this harder for you, and maybe he’s being selfish, but you’re the fucking love of his life, his best friend, his person. What you’re about to ask of him is dreadful.

“I’m not going to turn into one of those fucking things,” you say sharply. “I won’t, Joel. And as someone you love, you have to make sure I don’t. Okay? Don’t let that happen to me! Please, please?” Your breathing picks up and Joel sees you’re on the verge of a panic attack. Fuck, did he cause this? This is the last thing you need.

“Shhh,” Joel coos as he sweeps your hair out of your face. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m sorry.” He inwardly curses himself for getting you worked up, putting you through more unnecessary pain. “I… I’ll do it…” he says, but it’s unconvincing. It’s just so you’ll shut up and stop talking about it.

For now, it’s good enough. It’s still early, and Joel has your whole day planned. You want to enjoy whatever he has for you and not fight.

So you let him make you your favorite breakfast. He makes a mixed fruit salad and squeezes you fresh juice. Because it’s what you deserve.

You eat together with Joel taking the time to feed you a few bites before you can’t contain your giggles anymore. He does everything he can to keep you smiling. And he talks to you as if nothing is wrong. As if you’ll be just fine. He treats it like any other day.

After you eat, you walk through Jackson hand-in-hand. He lets you say your goodbyes, mortifying Tommy and Maria, breaking Ellie’s heart. It’s a struggle to get away from them, as they don’t want to let you go. But they can see how much Joel needs you. And they won’t get in the way.

When you’ve said what you wanted to say and done the things you’ve wanted to do, Joel leads you back to your favorite place behind the walls. A giant oak tree you frequently visit to enjoy the sunshine and the sounds or to sit under when you want to read in solitude. It’s the place where Joel first kissed you, where he told you about his daughter, where you told him you loved him.

It’s the perfect place for you to rest. And Joel joins you, his back against the bark while you relax in his arms. He sings you your favorite songs and kisses your face when you shiver in pain. He lightly brushes over your bandage, repeating to himself that it’s just a scratch.

You’re so beautiful. The sun shines through your hair, casting a golden glow over your silky strands. He loves to just run his fingers through your hair, feeling the soft tresses slip through his fingertips, hearing you moan as he touches you. It’s one of his favorite things.

And the way you look right now frightens him. But fuck, you’re still the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. Your plush lips still put him in a trance as you speak. And when you blink your eyes and look up at him through fluttering lashes, his heart flutters. How can you just leave him like this?

“Christ, I need to finish teaching you how to play the guitar…” He mutters as this realization hits him. “I should run back and grab it, or find Ellie’s.” He’s frantic as he thinks about the things you still have to achieve. He should have made more time for you.

“Relax,” you breathe, placing your palms over his thighs. He stops fidgeting when you touch him, doing whatever you say. “You’ve taught me well,” you chuckle lightly. “I could probably play an entire song now. Even better than you.”

“Is that so?” He snorts, his deep voice sending goosebumps down your spine. “Alright, pretty girl. Tell me what song you’d play?”

“Crystal by Stevie Nicks,” you say proudly, turning your head to smile at him. For a second, your vision gets fuzzy, Joel’s face distorting into unfamiliar shapes, and panic sets in. But the feeling fades as you blink away the stinging sensation. His gorgeous features come back into view.

It’s starting, you think. You want to distance yourself from Joel, but you know he won’t have it. No more kissing, though. That’s for sure.

“Something on your mind, sweetheart?” He asks tenderly, noticing your quick shift in emotions. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m just tired,” you mutter, closing your eyes when the burning sensation returns to them. You shake your head and lean into the man behind you, mentally trying to calm yourself down. “And I’m feeling a little warm,” you sigh.

Frowning, Joel brings his hand up, placing the back of it to your forehead. He almost jolts away at how strikingly hot you are. You’re sweaty, shaking, and his stomach turns. “Maybe we should head back inside,” he says.

“Okay,” you whisper, unable to argue. You let Joel lift you up, carrying you back to the house bridal style. Your pretty eyes flutter open and closed and he tries to keep up a strong front. But god, he’s ready to break. “Love you,” you mumble sluggishly through chapped lips.

“I love you,” Joel chokes out, clenching his jaw so he doesn’t give away his worries.

He makes it back to the house, carrying you upstairs and placing you safely in the bed. He’s attentive, bringing you water and cold cloths for your fever. He doesn’t sleep at all that night.

“You have to do it, Joel,” you whimper as you cry. The gun in your quivering hand taunts him, pleading with him to end your life. “I can’t turn,” you reiterate. “If you won’t do it…”

“Baby,” Joel grabs the hand holding the gun, pushing it down to your side. His eyes are red and puffy, twitching from the worry and lack of sleep. The misery in your face says it all, but how can he do it? How can he just fucking put you down? “Darlin’, I--”

“You promised me,” you hiss, shoving the gun into his chest. “You swore to me at the very beginning, that if something ever happened… You would do this for me. And I would do it for you!”

“I don’t want to!” Joel shouts as he grabs the gun. He waves it around maniacally, scaring you a little bit. You’re the one losing your mind, but he’s not faring well, either. “I can’t!”

You stare down each other, standing beneath your favorite oak tree. His chest rises and falls rapidly, anger and fear surging through his veins. You won’t even let him kiss you. He tried this morning, and you pushed him away. He went to check your bandage and the view of your skin, all red and black, crushed him. He has to pull himself out of that fantasy bubble now. Because this is it.

“You think I want this?” You speak softly. Your tenacious facade has finally withered. Your voice cracks as you cross to him, grabbing his handsome face in your hands. “I don’t want to die, Joel. I want to stay here with you. I love you!” You sob, curling your body into him. “I love you, I love you. I don’t want to leave you!”

“Fuck, baby girl,” Joel groans. His sturdy arms cover you, holding your small frame against him. He looks behind you, his heart sinking at the carved out initials in the tree bark. You did that this morning when you got back from the creek. Well, with your frail hands, Joel did it. You just told him what to write.

You look at him through your tears, laughing a little at how he probably looks just as distraught as you. You carefully touch his face, running your fingers over his scars one last time. The sickness within you is almost overwhelming. It’s time. It has to be.

“Joel,” you whisper. That question that’s been on the tip of your tongue rolls off with ease now that you can feel yourself deteriorate. “Will you end this? Kill me.”

Loud cries escape his throat and he clutches the gun until he can feel the coldness of it dig into his palm. His lips kiss you all over your face, whispering over and over how much he loves you. But you know this. Joel’s never been a man to show his emotions. But you’ve always known by his actions. And now, when he’s telling you that he wishes he would have said it more, you just have to assure him that it’s okay.

“I wish we had more time,” he gasps between broken sobs.

“Me too,” you mourn.

He places the cold metal to your temple, groans convulsing through his body. You can hear his whimpers, feel the unsteady beating of his heart. His arm holds you so tightly, it’s the only thing that’s calming your crazed brain. The gun cocks and you close your eyes, exhaling your final breaths. A serene emotion sweeps over you. And the last thing you hear in this cruel world is Joel’s loving voice.

“Sleep well, darling,” he sobs. “Find Sarah for me.”

Masterlist

Joel Miller Taglist: @swtaura - @chxpsi - @extraneous-trip - @cerebellam - @tiredbeebo - @kirsteng42 - @trickstersp8 - @detectivebarba

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 | 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞.

⊹ fandom house of the dragon

⊹ pairing ser harwin strong x reader

⊹ synopsis when the fight breaks out, ser harwin strong decides to get the most important lady in the room to safety

⊹ tags some sexual tension—sexual fluff is the term i'd use it; "who did this to you?" trope + wound bandaging; unexpected marriage proposal in the end because i can't control where my stories go

⊹ warnings fighting, hotd spoiler for 1.05

⊹ word count 1305

The crowd thickens on the dance floor. You are sitting off to the side, on your third cup of wine, watching with amusement as your best friend gets in a heated discussion with Daemon in the middle of the room for the entire crowd to watch. As interested as you are as to what will happen between them, you take a sip and divert your eyes away so if someone were to interrogate you, you’d be able to feign cluelessness.

Your eyes sweep over the room, taking in the attendees. There’s King Viserys, who’s aggressively moving his knife back and forth in a cutting motion except he’s missing the actual chicken because he’s too absorbed watching with scandalised eyes at his brother and daughter.

Then there’s Queen Alicent, who’s also watching, but more subtly. She’s gotten better at concealing her emotions, and much better at learning the subtle ways of the court. You’ll have to warn Rhaenyra about her old friend.

But like every time the two of you are in the same room together, your eyes are eventually drawn to him. Unsurprisingly, he’s already staring at you. Ser Harwin Strong stands across the room with someone talking to him, but it’s clear he’s no longer interested in them. You smile at him, and he bows his head in greeting. His eyes shamelessly rake you up and down, and to tease and appease his appetite which you know all too well, you lean forwards slightly so your dress gives him a much nicer view. You grin at his smile.

That is the crux of your relationship. Longing glances from across the room, a moment of flirtation that doesn’t lead everywhere. For now, it’s fun. Sneaking around, teasing each other in public, the possibilities of what could be existing in the inch of space between your lips when you have your back against the wall and his chest pressed against yours, never pushing further, but not pulling away. You’re both satisfied with it for now. But how long will it last before it’s no longer enough and you both must make the decision of either being together or forever apart?

A scream rises above the crowd, tearing your attention from him. Duty and loyalty to the princess takes over your body, and you stand in search for Rhaenyra immediately. You catch sight of her white hair and see as the thick crowd, now panicked, shove the princess aside.

“Rhaenyra!” you shout out to her, but no one hears you.

No one except for ser Harwin, who despite being so far from you and on the other side of the panicking crowd, sees you grab the knife you had been cutting your chicken with and head determinedly into the crowd to defend your friend. As frustrated he is by you endangering yourself, he can’t help but chuckle at the sight of your stubbornness, loyalty, and bravery. But worry overtakes him as you disappear into the throng of bodies, gone from his view.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his father motion for him to grab the princess. Harwin stretches his head to the left before shoving aside the person in front of him, then the person behind them and every else who stands in his way. He occasionally punches someone if they won’t move. As the crowd gets even thicker, he begins to use his body to barrel his way through. He does pretty much anything that needs to be done until he catches a glimpse of you again, now having made it to the princess’ side. Blood drips down your knife. The sleeve on your pretty blue dress is ripped, and he sees blood stains around it.

You turn and your eyes meet, as if you could just feel his presence when he came near enough.

“Ser Harwin,” you gasp out. “Take the princess to safety—OH!”

The floor disappears from under your feet.

You scream out as his large hands grasp your waist, and with barely a grunt, hoist you over his very broad shoulders. The heat from his hands is familiar, the grip on your waist drawing memories from two nights before, but in this moment, all you feel is anger and disbelief as you are carried away from Rhaenyra who is picked up in a similar position by another member of the city watch.

“Put me down, ser Harwin!” you shout. You slam your fists against his back, not that he’d feel it.

“Stop moving, my lady,” he says gruffly.

You twist around so you can see a glimpse of where you’re going. One hand is still wrapped around your legs to keep you from falling. His other hand is shoving people aside to clear a way.

“PUT ME DOWN!” You try to kick, but his grip tightens.

Then he slaps your ass.

“I said, stop moving!”

Realizing that this isn’t a fight you’re going to win, you huff and stay still as he fights through the rest of the room. Only out in the hall where it’s silent, empty, and dark, does he bend down to put you gently on the ground.

You slap his chest. “You were supposed to get the princess to safety!”

“I was getting my lady to safety first,” he says unabashedly.

“You can’t put me above Rhaenyra!”

“Can’t I?”

Heat floods your cheeks at his words. You look down and see that his hands are still gripping your waist, as if he’s still keeping you safe. Silence passes between you, only the sounds of his and yours heavy breathing filling the air. Gradually, your anger ebbs away, but still his grip doesn’t loosen.

“You can let go of me now, ser Harwin,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

He doesn’t. He steps forward, forcing you take a step backward. Forwards, back, forwards, back, your eyes never looking away from his until your back hits the wall. He takes a step forward. Then another. He’s much taller than you, and much broader. His entire presence looms over you, but you don’t feel terrified or small. If anything, you only feel protected. Secure.

Loved.

He reaches for his shirt and tears a strip from the bottom. You don’t protest as he dabs the blood on your arm before wrapping it over the wound. When he’s done, he bends down to press a kiss against it.

“Does it hurt?” he asks softly.

You shake your head. The scalding touch of him being so close to you yet not doing anything is more unbearable than the knife that cut you.

“Who did it?”

“Harwin.”

“People get hurt from fights all the time. No one will know it was intentional.”

You can’t stop the chuckle from escaping. He smiles softly at you and moves even closer so his forehead is resting against yours, his breath warm over your lips.

“You can’t do that again,” he says.

You look at him challengingly. “Can’t I?”

“No, you can’t. Stop risking yourself.”

“Rhaenyra is my friend, and I have a feeling that things are only going to get worse from here. I have to stay by her side and protect her.”

He sighs, and you know he understands that he can’t ask you to forsake your friendship with her. “Then I will stand by your side and protect you,” he says instead.

You raise your brows. “Oh, will you?”

“Enough of this hiding around and being on opposite ends of the room. I want to be by your side at all times.”

“And how will you do that, ser Harwin?”

He takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to the inside of your palm. “Marry me,” he says, and you feel everything in you stop until he is all you can see and think and feel.

“Marry me and be mine.”

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖽? 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗂𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗄 𝗌𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗌, 𝗇𝗈. 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗍𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗑 + 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗆 𝗂 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌? 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒.

𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽. 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾𝖽 (𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗆 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇). 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

(18+) More Than Our Servitude - Part II

NSFW | (TV!) Sandor Clegane x Fem!Reader | Requested | Oneshot turned Multi-Part

Trigger warning: Canon-typical violence, sexism, the implied threat of sexual assault, the reader becomes a victim of physical assault. The reader is wounded: cuts. Contains explicit scenes of sexual nature.

Summary: Your journey with the Hound continues. It doesn't matter how fast Stranger takes the both of you. The Hound cannot outride his past. Emotions reach a peak after a dangerous encounter, and you do not escape unscathed.

Author's Note: I've taken some liberties with the canon material, but nothing that changes the plot line of the show or established canon from either source material. Spending time with the Hound should make you able to get to know him better, right? ☺️

It looked wrong. After days of riding past deserted farms, standing like blackened skeletons with their fields scorched, the small village in the middle of the forest felt like a dream.

"Trust me."

Clegane shifted in the saddle. "Not happening."

"You are the famed Hound. People would recognize you. Me? I could be anyone, just a wanderer."

"Think it normal for lone women to travel the countryside?" he countered.

"More so with the Riverlands burning," you answered and looked up at the face locked in a scowl. "I can do this. We need to eat."

Clegane nodded towards the village. "None in there would dare bother you if I'm with. We'll be far gone when someone finds out there's gold on our heads."

"Your head," you corrected. "Isn't it better if we don't leave any trail, be a needle in a haystack?"

The hand at the small of your back made your heart race. How of all things was this what finally-

"Wait!" 

A push, gentle yet firm. 

Sliding down, Stranger whinnied out as your feet hit the ground. 

"Get then," Clegane spat. "Grown tired of your bickering. Would serve me right to take off while you're gone and be rid of you."

You had already begun to unfasten the empty satchel, shaking out the crumbs left by the rations, and fished out the leather pouch with his coin from the saddlebag.

"Then you would be hungry, penniless, and alone," you replied. "If you wish I could remain silent from now on."

Clegane's mouth twitched, pressing to a thin line, and for a brief moment, something else flickered in those angry eyes of his. With a last smile and a curtsy, you turned on your heel and began the walk down the hill, counting his silver.

There were necessities: salt, hard biscuits, and hopefully cured meat. Perhaps the tavern even had a cheap warm meal, it wouldn't serve well as a ration, but tonight it would do both of you good. Looking out over the village, fruit trees dotted its surroundings. Plums, apples, and pears. In one of the fields grew bundles of green turnips. Those usually were cheap. Roasted with some herbs, salt, and butter, even the Hound wouldn't be kept frowning. Wine, you couldn't forget the wine.

The soft thuds of hooves against dirt made you peer back. Clegane didn't offer you as much as a glance, his dark eyes fixed on the tavern. Keeping to silence, you only squinted up at the man.

"Don't trust it," Clegane pushed through gritted teeth.

Freshly baked bread, mulled wine, and hot cider. All pleasant scents one could expect from a tavern, even unpleasant ones of vomit and urine wouldn't have made you frown as Clegane pushed the door open. It wasn't wholly unfamiliar. Thick and musky, the scent of bodies in heat was soon joined by its sounds. 

The stalls that ran along the walls of the tavern had been fitted with drapes. Moany breaths and pleads left those closed, while women laid on the seats of the ones still open, watching you both, their dresses nothing more than loosly draped cloth tied with string at their waists.

A plump older woman stood by the bar, her breasts barely fitting in the bodice and when her eyes landed on you the smile on her lips grew a bit warmer.

"Looking for a night's stay?" she asked.

"Food," Clegane only said and signed for you to step forward. 

"I-I thought this was a tavern," you stammered.

"Oh it was, love, but it is what it is," she replied, shrugging. "Better to entertain soldiers this way than for them to think of a way themselves, no? Their games can be rather harsh. So what shall you and your husband have? Got some pie, no meat I'm afraid, but it'll get you filled up."

You glanced up at Clegane but he gave no tell of approval. 

"He's not my husband." 

"A contender?" the woman giggled.

"None of your concern," Clegane rasped and the smile on the inkeeper's face grew tense.

"He's helping me travel to Highgarden, I have family there." And hopefully that lie would send any persuers in the wrong direction.

"Where you travelling from?" she asked.

"Riverrun," you said, continuing the lie. 

"The lions taken it?"

"I don't know, didn't stay there long enough to find out," you replied and looked to your feet.

Had it already been taken? It wasn't like washerwomen were invited to the war table and you didn't have a great many places to pick from. You knew every street of King's Landing and which areas of Flea Bottom were the safest to walk. Outside that, was a world you'd only heard in passing. Seats belonging to one lord or the other. 

"You a King's man?" the innkeeper asked but Clegane kept silent, still stewing in his anger but her smile didn't waver. "Those that serve the good of the realm have our girls for free."

With a whistle, one of the women left the open stalls, the dress undone, bundling at her waist and the bare skin oiled. You fixed your eyes on the satchel filled with food as she jumped up on the counter to sit.

He wasn't your husband. Made no promises, sworn no vow. You knew he had visited brothels in King's Landing, Clegane never boasted of it, but you knew it just as you knew that almost every man did. One thing to know it and another to see it.

"I'll go and water the horse," you mumbled, emptying the coinpurse and darting out with your rations.

What would even the protest be? Don't? Because you're there? Because you wanted him to come to you instead? When he became Kingsguard, you had hoped. He would have been far from the first that went to a washerwoman for comfort, but the man never came and you never saw the women he went to instead. It left room. Room for your fantasies to make the world something it wasn't, make you the woman in one of the winesinks he tapped on the shoulder.

Stranger stood tethered by a wooden post, but this time the black stallion didn't whinny out as you came close.

"Would serve me right to take off and be rid of him while he's gone," you said and rolled your eyes.

Even if that had been a plan, Stranger was a warhorse and you had heard the talk of stablehands. They weren't trained to be pleasant and amicable like a palfrey. The only ones that could safely ride them were their masters, not even all squires could take to their knight's horse.

"She was very lovely," you said and fastened the satchel. "Bet she can make him in a good mood."

As the tears started to well, you hit your head against the side of the saddle making Stranger stomp down.

"Could you let me pity myself for a moment please?" you whispered.

The door to the tavern struck open and you didn't even need to turn to know it was the Hound. He was quick at least. For the first time your heart didn't race as his hands caught your waist and hoisted you up in the saddle.

"Never been in a whorehouse before?" he asked, you only shook your head in response. "Not too grown for a silent treatment?"

"You were tired of my bickering."

Clegane swung up behind you, snorting. "True. Left to me to make a new plan then."

You twisted in the saddle, "We had a plan?"

"Thought going east would be good, doubt they've heard about any Clegane there. Gold to be had in being a sellsword," he replied and grimaced. "Slavers. The eastern shore is full with them, ain't taking you there."

"How is that any different from bands of broken men?"

"It's different," Clegane said but as the village started to grow distant behind you he continued, "A broken man fights to stay alive. Killing, theft, some turn rapers. A bandit with better arms."

"How is that different from slavers?"

"Smarter. Already forgotten the Greyjoy Rebellion?" he asked.

Waiting for Stranger to bob down his head, you kicked over your leg, so your side was to him. It was rare for him to be this talkative. If the woman in the tavern had gotten his warmth, you'd at least savor the rest.

"You fought in it?"

It earned you another snort. "Gregor fought in it, I guarded. Kept to the shores of the Westerlands dealing with raiders," he said and his eyes looked to the road ahead, beyond it and his voice grew distant. "Sure, they'd kill a few men, torch some houses but they'd scurry off the moment one came riding. For every man killed, twice the number of women and children were taken."

"The Ironborn took slaves?"

"Aye, but they didn't keep all of them. Some they gave to their Drowned God." Clegane returned to you, the dark eyes meeting yours. "Tyroshi wouldn't sacrifice you to the waves."

"If any of them win, the Lannisters, the Baratheons or the Stark? Would any pardon you?" you asked.

"Fat chance of that. The King in the North might send me to the Wall if he's anything like his Lord Father. At least that one would take my head himself."

"No slaver is taking me and no King in the North is taking your head," you spat and Clegane cocked his brow. "What?"

"First time I hear you growling," he said. 

The camp for the night was made by a small brook, birch trees rising high around the meadow. The sky had gone purple. It was a luxury to be able to roll out your bedroll before dusk was claimed by night. Watching as the water in the kettle came to a boil, you pulled it off the fire. The rabbit, skinned and gutted, sizzled on its spit, and the turnips had been buried into the earth by the edge of the campfire, baking away.

"I'm not making poison," you swore as the Hound's eyes fell on you, steeping birch leaves into the water, "it's good for you."

"A cunning woman now too?" he asked.

"It's just what I've been told, I've drunken it myself so I know it won't kill us. If you don't want to try it then there's just more wine for you to drink."

The Hound returned to sharpening his sword, running the whetstone along the blade, and when satisfied he took to his dagger.

"It's good you caught the rabbit," you said after a while.

"Leave it be."

His voice didn't sound any different, no more angry or tired than before, yet that distant gaze returned. There wasn't even any anger in his face, the scowl was there, but it was a fixture. Hollow.

"We'll figure out a plan," you tried. "I'd rather stay here in Westeros, it's not like I'd be comfertable in a land were there's slaves, regardless if I'm one of them or not."

Rising, you stepped into his view but his eyes didn't catch you. "Clegane?"

The wind made the tops of birchtrees sway, the leaves rustling and wood snapping.

Snapping?

Your gaze left the Hound, peering out amongst the trees. He had been correct, being so scrutinous of the pick of campsite. There were no shrubs, no trees thick enough for them to hide.

One after the other they appeared, eight in all. Their faces gaunt and hunger had made their clothes hang loose to their bodies. 

"Clegane," you breathed but the man did not rise, he didn't as much as peer back.

Their eyes, while everything else seemed to have wilted away, what rested within the eyes of those men made every fiber within your being scream out, plead for you to run.

You were nothing more than a lamb that had wandered into a den of lions. Hadn't Clegane heard you? But he always heard you? Why couldn't he hear you?! You opened your mouth to speak, mouthing his name, yet no sound came. Steel gleamed in their hands.

"Sandor?"

A flicker of relief, he must have heard you but when your eyes darted down the Hound sat unmoving. Was this a nightmare? The dark eyes were so distant, like he was stuck somewhere far away.

They'd kill you.

They'd kill him.

You saw everything else in those eyes of theirs too, how slow your death would be. You were more than a threat. A treat. A plaything— until they'd grow bored of you.

"Dog!" the scream rang through the forest.

You stepped back as Clegane shot to his feet, breath catching in your throat as he spun around. The sword was already drawn, and the Hound's helm that had rested beside him quickly came over his head.

"Stranger. Now."

"Leaving?" one of them spun, the blond hair matted into thick clumps. "You be clad in plenty of steel."

"And that told you this was a good idea?" the Hound snorted.

"More of us than you," another spat, an ax ready in his hand.

"Who you serving?" the first man asked. "Lions?"

"Not anymore," Clegane replied, backing up until his hand caught your arm, squeezing. "Stranger. Untie him."

"A broken brother!" the first man laughed and held out his arms, but the sword was no less sharp in his grip. "Do not fret, we ain't here to judge kin! You look strong enough, why not join us? We see to our share of fun and keep each other's backs far better than some lordling twat. That's a good sword."

Silent you turned around, the stallion stood by one of the birch trees already pulling at the reigns that bound it but as you took a step towards it, a third man darted into the path. A gapped grin flashing on his face, the cheeks scarred by pox.

"You cooked that, love?" he asked, nodding to the rabbit beginning to charr by the fire, but you couldn't will yourself to answer. "Cooks and keeps her mouth shut, her cunt tight too?"

"We share in our little brotherhood. Fairness and all that," the first man said.

"I don't," the Hound replied.

"Manners," the man sighed and nodded back, the youngest among them stood with his bow knocked and drawn. "The boy's rather good with that one, been feathering birds all his life. Not so different from feathering men, ain't it so, Tip?"

"Aye," the boy Tip replied.

"I like your helm," the first man continued.

"Do I look like a fucking merchant?" the Hound growled.

"Looks like a dead man to me," another called out.

A stillness laid itself over the meadow. You didn't see what started it, but in a blink of an eye, everything happened all at once. A clang. From your right, a shadow dove in, and the man that had stood before you with his gapped grin disappeared behind the Hound. A spray of crimson shot through the air as Clegane thwarted his sword. A howl. You spun only for the shadow of the Hound to leap from your back again. The next death you saw fully, Clegane cut off the first man's hand, and the sword hit the ground with a thud, the fingers still curled around its hilt. The wail was cut short as the dagger buried into the man's eye. You watched as steel met steel until it hit the softness of flesh, sending up blades of crimson. The Hound was fighting four at once, or rather, he took great care not to. Never staying long enough in one place, his sword veining through the air, but it wasn't a desperate flailing. An arrow buried itself into his shoulder, but Clegane didn't even seem to notice. Cursing, the boy knocked his bow once more. Four became three, three became two, two became-

Four.

You began to twist, to search for the fifth, but a warmth hit your back. You opened your mouth to scream, but fingers clawed at the back of your head. The blade pressing against your throat.

"Shut your mouth," a stranger's voice hissed.

The boy no longer stood with his bow, aiming at the Hound. Taking flight amongst the birch trees. Clegane ripped the ax from the hand of one of the dead and you looked on with the last survivor of the brotherhood as it veined through the air. The boy's shriek made the dagger press even harder at your throat.

"Enough!" the roar made your ears ring.

The Hound's chest heaved, blood clinging to his brigandine. You had seen anger in his eyes before, but never like this, a wildness, a bloodthirst that could make anyone shrink

"Should have run," the Hound rasped.

"Like him? Drop your sword," the stranger said, the boy still wailing, crying for the aid of gods and his mother. "You deaf? Want the bitch to live then drop that fucking sword!"

It slipped out of his hand, and without the stranger having to make any demand the dagger followed.

"So you're not deaf. Now get on that horse of yours. If you ride hard and long enough, I might just leave her here alive."

He wouldn't. Perhaps he'd not take his time with you like his brethren, but there was no mercy in that voice, in the blade that pressed against your throat. So this was it, how you died. Dog. The last word you ever spoke to him, what you had heard echoing through the Red Keep as the King had yelled for his Hound to come. A title, only spoken in contempt or ridicule, was your final word. Not. like. this.

The pain burned bright in your hands. You couldn't see your murderer's face, just his arms, free from steel and wool. He wrung around you, cursing and roaring. The taste of metal filled your mouth. The next had no pain, just a warmth seeping down your throat. The Hound lunged, bodies clashing, and you flew to the side. One hand catching grass and the other, the still twitching leg of a dead man. Away. You just needed to get away.

The fingers trembled, red and slick. Your hands, your blood. Deep gashes ran along your palms. It couldn't have taken that long, you didn't stare at the bloody hands for an eternity before your fingertips brushed over your neck. Whimpering as the pain shot out and without thought, you pressed against your throat.

"Clegane?" your voice weak, frail, but behind you could hear grunts, a heavy thud that grew wetter and wetter, and the cracking of bone.

The world had begun to spin and the boy's cries, you could hear them again, "Mother, help me! Please, help me! MOTHER!"

Why? You would have given them food if they were hungry. It wasn't fair.

Tipping onto your side, Clegane straddled the man, his fingers had dug into the man's face and each time he brought the head up you could see the back, its shape long gone.

"Clegane?"

Another thud, another wet crack.

"MOTHER! MOTHER!"

"Sandor?" it left you nothing more than a pipe.

There they were, those dark eyes of his, a fury like no other gone in an instant, and the next, Clegane's hands were on you. Pressing at your throat.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you whispered, tears blurring your view. "I didn't mean to."

Cursing under his breath, Clegane ripped up the scarf underneath his bevor and pushed it into the hand pressing at your throat. How much time, how many words would the gods give you to make this right?

"He's dead. It's done."

"I would never have called you that. Never. But you were... it was like you couldn't hear me, I'd never... I'm sorry, please forgive me."

His brow furrowed before his free arm slipped in by your legs and the ground left beneath you. Carrying you to Stranger's saddle.

"The food," you said.

It was a ruin, the rabbit had fallen into the fire, and the kettle kicked over.

"Fuck the food," he snapped and steadied you on Stranger's back, taking your hand to where he pressed. "Keep that there. Press it down. Hard."

You offered no protest as Clegane turned around. The sword and dagger returned to his hands. The Hound ran between the trees, and the boy's cries finally stopped before he appeared again.

Worry writ across his face. It looked too close to sorrow.

"I'm sorry I called you that. I never thought of you like...," you said as he swung up in the saddle. "I'm sorry, Clegane."

"You're not going to die, so save your pardons for some other day," he replied but if that was a promise or a command, you couldn't tell.

A lone candle lit up the small chamber, the heavy scent of incense tickling your nose and the bed soft beneath you.

"Let's see if you can't lift that for me, love," the innkeeper hummed and tapped on your hand, still pressing the bloodsoaked scarf against your throat.

Reluctantly you obeyed.

"Aren't you lucky, any deeper and you'd be a goner," she said, "if you've not bled out yet, you'll not do it now."

Her hands cradled yours, sucking at her teeth. "These will give you more trouble, but better that."

Behind the woman, the Hound sat on a chest by the door, his gaze burning her back.

"The only issue will be if it festers, but I'll see if we can't make that less likely."

"No burning," the Hound's voice tensed.

"I treat my girls with honey," she replied, pulling out a jar from one of the pockets of her apron.

You bit your lip as she began to dab it along the wound of your neck before turning her attention to your hands. The innkeeper humming as she worked.

"Seeing as you said this was work of some broken men, you two can have the room for free for tonight," the woman peered back at Clegane, her hand closing at your wrist as if he was to pull her away, "and I know who you are. We're not busy tonight, no one here to bother you, but lions like to prowl here. I won't lie when they come, so the two of you best leave early. Have I made myself understood?"

Clegane only offered a nod. Rising, she brushed her hands off the apron and gave you another warm smile before handing you the jar of honey. "You should reapply it but keep some linen over the wounds, not so much that it cannot breathe but enough so you're not pestered by flies."

"Thank you," you said.

"I hope you safely reach your family in Highgarden," the woman replied and slipped out.

"It is kind of them to let us stay for free," you said as Clegane locked the door.

He stayed by it, his hand gripping the handle. It fumed out of him, filling up the room.

"You're angry," you noted, an ache forming in your chest. "I should never have called you that."

Clegane snorted, and the bed creaked as he sat by its end, peering back over his shoulder.

"Think that's what troubles me?" His gaze stayed on you, wandering down to the hands laying at your sides. "Good work I've done, keeping you safe."

"I'm alive."

"Barely," Clegane replied and looked ahead, starting to unbuckle his pauldrons. 

The brigandine slid off his body and the mail followed until he only sat in his undertunic. There was no red stain where the arrow had hit, the layers of steel had kept it from his body.

"Eight, you faced eight men alone and lived. How many can attest to such a thing?" you tried.

"There's no glory in killing rats. They had no armor and barely enough strength to swing their blades," he said and rose, pulling the cloak over his shoulder. "Go to sleep."

"Where are you going?"

"Seeing if killing broken men gets me wine," he muttered and the door slammed shut behind him.

You shuffled to the side of the bed, wincing as you pulled yourself up to sit, pain throbbing in your neck. The blood still clinging to your dress had begun to brown, and your fingertips traced the stains that ran down your breast.

Waiting, you came to know the small bedchamber well. The pattern of the bubbles that speckled the glass of the lone window, the scratches that ran along the wooden floor where furniture had been dragged and rearranged over the years. You wanted to be excited. The sole bed would only mean one thing, but what did it matter to lay beside him if he did not want you? If it wasn't your comfort he sought? The hurt of such a truth would have been easier another night, but the broken men's eyes hadn't gone. It didn't matter that they lay cold, gazing blankly at the night sky. Fear can't be waved away like some fly. It burrowed deep. If he could touch you, claim you. If you could be the one to allow it, for it not to be taken. The candle by the windowsill had all but burnt away when the door creaked open.

Clegane's voice was thick and drink had left it even more grating than usual, "Told you to sleep."

"I couldn't."

"Hard thing when sitting up," he replied dryly.

The floorboards creaked under his heavy footstep and you looked up, meeting his gaze, drunk and sullen.

"You did good," you said. "We're alive, surely that is what matters."

You smiled. Offered what the man had told you was the reason he had come for you at the Battle of Blackwater but Clegane winced as if you had just put a dagger in his gut.

"You heard the woman, she knows me. Won't be a place in the Seven Kingdoms where I'll go and not have some bugger that heard of me. This?" his hand shot out, but as it closed in on your face it slowed and the finger that traced down along the curve of your neck made your body tingle. "If I failed you a first time, I'll fail you a second time. I'm no fool."

"You did not fail me."

"Did that plenty today, done it for days now," he said and laughed as you frowned. "Not blind, woman. I see your face, how miserable you are."

"It isn't— I'm not miserable."

A small part perhaps, but it was loneliness, bitterness to not be wanted. But you didn't want his touch from desperate pleads or nagging, what sort of love was that?

"There it is," Clegane breathed. He lowered, looming above you. "Don't think I see it in your eyes, woman? Your lies might not be as rotten as the rest of them, but it's lies all the same. What woman wants a man that can't even protect her?"

"You're being cruel," you whispered.

"The fuck I am," Clegane hissed. "I've been plenty patient. Others take me, you think this a cruelty? You're that dumb? It's a kindness."

"You call me dumb and say it kindness?" you replied, a shrillness growing in your voice. "I think I have made it clear what I feel for you, if you do not want me then that is something I must come to terms with, but it is cruel to mock me for it."

As Clegane leaned forward, the pain in your neck made you tip back. Was this another one of his quips? As his hands found themselves on either side of your face, linens twisting as they balled into fists.

"Wanted to keep you safe. Unharmed. You'd never feel pain again. Look where that got me. Wanted you to never weep, and is this not your tears?" His thumb brushed by your cheek, wiping the tear away. "I can kill whoever tries to hurt you, but when you regret me and these are mine and not by some broken men? Can't offer you any comfort then."

"And you call me dim," you whispered. "These tears rest by your feet, Sandor Clegane." The tip of your fingers brushed over his stubbled cheeks, and the corners of your lips tugged. "Only you its comfort."

It was another cruelty, how quickly the man's eyes could change, for them to look down on you so intently. Leaving the rest of you to catch up, heart pounding in your chest, breath hitching.

"You could kiss me... if you like," the last words barely left your lips a sound.

Closing your eyes as Clegane lowered.

The lips you had only dreamed of didn't meet yours, his nose grazed your chin, and as his warm breath hit the nape of your neck, a sigh escaped your lips, "Please?"

Pain kept you bound, from hooking your arms around his neck and pulling up. He was near. The warmth traveled down and the tip of his nose brushed by your collarbone.

"You're being cruel."

A whole other than his first. It had hurt but this was torture, his mouth was so close to the laces of your underdress. If he just caught the string with his mouth and tugged, the dress could be gone. He could see all of you, touch all of you.

You squirmed as he moved up, whimpering.

"Not cruel," the rasp was a low hum in your ear. "Savoring something new."

"Please..."

"Never had a woman plead like this," he continued, and his face nuzzled in by the side of yours, gently as not to strain the wound by your neck.

It didn't matter. Your hips bucked up, but you couldn't reach him, his left hand sliding down and pinning you to the bed.

"Keep still."

Clegane pushed up, the scowl returning to his face as he inspected your throat. It wasn't until he looked at your hands that he sat up. Red splotched the wrappings of your left hand.

"It's nothing, I swear I'm fine," you said but the hands were already sliding in underneath you.

"You need rest."

Leave it to him to even make this a haggle.

"We could be gentle," you tried as he placed you back on the bed, no longer laying on its short end.

"Had too much wine for that and my patience is strained thin as it is," he grunted and walked to where his armor rested.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

Why? It was perfect, he was perfect. His back turned to you, Clegane slid on the mail shirt, and the brigandine returned to his shoulders.

"Where are you going?"

"You need rest," he repeated, "I stay, that won't happen."

Turning to put on his cloak, you saw it, the fabric of his breeches straining. He... he was... you had done that? Clegane came closer, walking around the edge of the bed. Had he changed his mind? But you couldn't look away as he lowered, his breath tickling your neck.

Rasping into your ear, "Hear me now, woman?"

"What?"

The snort made you wince, rearing back your head.

"Pardons, never had my cock make a woman lose her hearing," Clegane said, his voice even thicker than before.

"Did you say somethi-" But the question turned to a whimper as Clegane's teeth caught your ear.

The bite made the tingling inside grow to a throb.

Your hands shot up, trying to latch onto his shoulders but he caught you by the wrists. "Such pretty sounds you make."

Clegane released you, staggering back, a grin spread on his lips. The last of his cups had caught up with him. The wildness, so similar to what had been in his eyes as he had killed the broken men met you.

"I'll taste those lips come morn," he swore and the grin grew wider as you failed to hide your disappointment.

"If this was done it mocking, then you are beyond cruel," you whispered.

"Drunk too much. I'll not have my first kiss forgotten."

With that, he yanked up the pauldrons and walked out, locking the door behind him. Watching from the window, you saw the Hound slink into the stables. The cuts in your hands didn't even allow you to deal with what he left behind. It wasn't until your body had calmed that you recalled his words.

First kiss.

The Hound had never kissed a woman before?

Thanks for reading!

Listen, getting into the emotional iceberg that is Sandor Clegane takes time. If you wish for more spice, I'll gladly provide it. But like culinary spice, text spiciness comes in levels🔥🔥🔥 So, if you have a pitchfork and wish to point it my way? En garde muthafucka!🤺