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this is what it feels like to love a fictional character </3

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Get off my back - Daryl Dixon

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Summary: A great fascination for the youngest Dixon took over you ever since the Quarry. Daryl notices and in fear of reciprocating your feelings, he continuously pushes you away. After Andrea shoots him, you don’t leave his side with the excuse of keeping an eye on him.

Warnings: Implied age gap (reader early 20s, Daryl late 30s) Fem!reader, Usual TWD gore, mentions of injuries, angst, yelling, mean!Daryl, failed-ish attempts of comfort, slightly medically skilled!reader, cigarettes, Daryl being a little too abrasive.

Era(s): Quarry, Greene farm.

Word count: 1.7k

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Your eyes were trained on him the second you got to the group. As days went by, he seemed to have cast a spell on you, hypnotised you with something only he had. You saw beyond his mean persona, his rugged ways only making his vulnerability shine through. How you treated him didn't go unnoticed, not by him, certainly not by the rest. Always ensuring he had everything he could use before leaving for a hunt, sparing him extra food because 'He needed the extra energy', even small insignificant details like leaving his folded clothes at his tent door were starting to get to him. He felt like you could read him better than he could himself, which made him want to hate you.

Daryl kept everyone at a distance, but you were kept even farther. It bothered you and occupied your thoughts like a plague, you were practically living with the sole purpose of showing him he was worth everything you'd ever do and more. He had pulled something within you, although it was beyond your comprehension, you let your instincts and desire take you over. You were anything but pushy, you didn't try to force yourself onto his life, content with giving and not receiving even a glance your way in return. The archer hated that he couldn't bring himself to hate you.

In a fucked up world where the dead roamed, injuring oneself with the simple task of carrying firewood seemed flat-out stupid. Angry mumbles escaped the man as the log fell with a thud. "Goddamnit." Your eyes lifted from your task of shaping branches as stakes, at the sound of Daryl's grumbles. Blood dripped down to the ground as the blue-eyed man fixated on his newly obtained cut.

"Sit." You pointed to the nearest makeshift seat, marching your way inside your tent to look for your precarious medical supplies. "Wha' " He growled, squinted eyes now settled in your back, as he obeyed your command.

"You heard me." You replied in a quiet mumble, carrying alcohol, iodine, and bandages in one hand. You accommodated yourself on the ground at his feet, hands grasping his injured one in one swift but gentle motion. "Won't need stitches." You assured. Worried demeanor showed through your actions and on this occasion, he couldn't look away.

His stare changed from your face to your working consistently, as you finished wrapping the bandage expertly he looked at you through his eyebrows. "Ya' a doctor 'fore all this?"

A nostalgic smile crept up your face, usually content eyes now clouding with sadness. At your change of aura, he wished he could take back the question, even if he didn't understand what was wrong in his doing. "Sorry." He spoke barely above a whisper, raspy voice making him nearly unintelligible

"Third year of med-school. 'bout to start my fourth." He nodded, now wrapping his mind around your medical knowledge, you did look too young to be a doctor.

After that evening he stayed even further from you, which you didn't think possible. Still, you abstained from offering to look after his wound, knowing he was capable of doing that himself, and knew it would bother him to have the obligation of holding a conversation with you every day. The archer hated that you knew all that, proving his point of you being able to read him like your favourite goddamn romantic novel. If his mind stayed too much upon it, he would drive himself insane.

The next few weeks were hectic, in a matter of days you were already starting to get settled in a new location, a family farm that was lending you the place till the shot kid, Carl, healed and the lost kid, Sophia, whom Daryl frantically looked for, resurfaced from god knows where.

You paced around camp, Daryl had left earlier that morning and while that wasn't odd, the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach was. "He's fine." Carol smiled at you, laying a comforting hand on your shoulder. Your brows furrowed, answering your own silent question as to how she knew what was on your mind. Being sly was never your strength.

"I know." You smiled, rubbing her back up and down in a reciprocation of her action. You admired how she stood strongly, after the death of her asshole husband and the disappearance of her daughter, she had survivor written all over her face. The calm atmosphere faded at the series of unfortunate events that continued to unfold before you. A shot, screaming and a bloody, limp archer being carried inside the house.

As Hershel worked on the wound at his torso, which you were relieved to know was not a walker bite, you got your hands on the bullet graze at the side of his head. The youngest Dixon would be fine, back on his feet in a few days time, that didn't wash away your anger at the blonde now standing behind you. "Oh my god, he's going to be fine, right?" Andrea questioned for the billionth time.

Your eyes travelled back to her. "You won't be if you don't shut your mouth." Attention back on your stitching, you mumbled an unintelligible cuss, anger practically bubbling out of you.

That night you slept curled up in a chair next to his sleeping form. He had woken up multiple times, only having the strength to look around the room and then doze off once again. You kept constantly waking up to check for a fever, maybe a broken stitch, anything putting his life at stake, your mind could not rest easy. Andrea had apologised to him and even to you, but you brushed her off, too angry to hold a conversation on the topic still.

The idea of not having the archer around made your heart sink. His rough hands that you ached to hold, blue eyes that got smaller the brighter his surroundings got, the unsympathetic yet very empathic personality that made him so fucking special, and his fear of being loved which pulled you close to him. Losing Daryl Dixon would've made you wish you stayed at the CDC. That would've been the day when you wouldn't be grateful at Doctor Jenner for giving you a shot at life.

"You need to stay in bed!" Exasperated, you grabbed both of the brunette's shoulders, pushing him down on the bed. The morning of the second day after his accident, Daryl wanted to get back on his normal doings. He glared at you sideways, the corner of his mouth lifting up before he spat out the words.

"Get off my back, bitch. Don’ need ya’ pesterin’ me like you’re ma’ goddamn babysitter.” He pushed you off him with a strength he couldn't seem to control under his rage spell.  The volume of his voice grew louder by the second. “Always ´round ‘ere. Big brown eyes starin’ like I’m bein’ exhibited. I ain’t your pet. Sure as hell ain't your boyfriend.” Now on his feet, he held the bedsheets to his torso as he looked over the room for his clothes.

You stared at him, not a sign of emotion on your features, though you wished you could yell back, maybe even shed a tear or two, but you knew it would be uncalled for. Same way everything you had been doing was.

You extended your hand holding a pile of folded clothes, his folded clothes. The brunette snatched them from your grip without care, launching them onto the mattress behind him.

His body caged yours, one of his hands gripped your forearm as you were backed up into a wall. Your free hand went to rest against his bare chest, no pressure inflicted nonetheless. “Dar..” You whispered, chin pointing towards the ceiling to look into his eyes. 

“Don’ call me that like I’m your friend. Ya’ could be gone tomorrow ‘n I wouldn’t give a goddamn shit.” His grip tightened as his face inched closer to your own, so much his breath fanned over the tip of your nose. "Yer so desperate t'be loved it shows how ya never have been before, but I don't do charity, so go bother somebody else and leave me the hell alone!."

He stood like that for half a minute, keeping you in place with his hand clutching your skin tight, though his grip fell the second he noticed a hint of pain in your eyes, though you weren't sure if it was for his grip or his words, implying you weren't worthy of anything. Making you feel small. He pushed himself off you, taking a good few steps back. "Get the hell outta 'ere." He yelled, pointing with his uninjured side to the, hopefully empty, hall behind the bedroom door.

You had vanished. Completely erased yourself from existence for the rest of the day. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes you had kept after your last run, a lighter, and climbed up the tree furthest away from everyone. You sat on the wide branch with your knees to your chest, the stilled bike belonging to the man you had pestered all this time staring right back at you, yelling the same words he had hours ago. He was right, couldn´t argue against anything he said, as much as it hurt, it was the truth.

You were down to the last two tobacco sticks, an unlit one being hugged by your reddened lips from all the nervous biting. "Hard as shit lookin' for ya in this state." His grumble woke you up from your daydreaming, eyes landing right on his as you brought the fire to your cigarette. "Wha's doctor doin' with a smoke? Don' tha' kill you?" He tried to joke around after being met with radio silence on your part. Attempting to rip something out of you.

A small smile formed on your lips, shrugging. "Gonna die sooner or later." You weren´t big on it, but ever since you were sixteen cigarettes were a habit of you that was embarrassingly hard to let go of. His head was at level with your legs, you weren´t too far up and he didn't lack height. Hence why he easily reached for the last cigarette and the red lighter beside you, lighting it up swiftly.

" 'm sorry." He whispered. The view you had was one you wanted carved onto your skin. The sun setting behind the archer, his dirty blond hair being lit up by the orange beaming from the large figure. Cigarette between his lips, as well as your own, and a shy hand, going to rest on your calf in an awkward comfort-inducing mannerism he wasn´t too experienced with.

" 's fine." You smiled, hand enveloping his. "i'll get off your back."

"Don'. I like ya' pesterin' me."

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i kinda hate it but i got it done lol

Anyway, my requests are open! please leave me anything you'd want to read and with no promised deadline I'll get it done :)

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Slytherin Daddies From Multifandoms

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Seductive Manipulation pt. 3 -Price of Freedom

This was requested by several Wattpad AND a couple Tumblr users!

Requested by @sadkenobi:  Your fic, Seductive Manipulation, gives me life. This is the best!!! And I want more :D Pretty please .)

@elenawrit: Hello ! I know that requests are closed, but can we have a third part for seductive manipulation, and more parts maybe ? Do what yu want, but I really like that fic ! thanks ! ;)

Part 3/3 of “Seductive Manipulation”, “Beg”. I really hope this meets your expectations. I do not own Petyr Baelish (sadly) or Lysa Arryn. They belong to George R.R. Martin.

Warnings: a little bit of tension, death and it is long!

Pairings: Petyr Baelish x fem!reader; mentions of Lysa Arryn

You smirked at Petyr over the top of your goblet. He glared back over the top of his. He was now married and he already hated it. He loved the power and the title of Acting Lord of the Vale, but he hated that his arrangement with you was over. And what he hated more was the hold you seemed to have over him. No one had ever been able to make him beg before you. If not for his pride, Petyr would be on his knees begging for you every chance he got and he loathed it.

              To Petyr, it seemed as if this was effecting him more than you, but in truth, you liked having him in your bed. Hells, you loved it. However, you were not about to back down from the few morals you still had. At least that’s what you told yourself. You tried to convince yourself that what you had with Petyr was an arrangement of mutual benefit and nothing more. Now, you were free to do what you wanted within reason and, at that moment, there was a young lord that caught your eye. Apparently, Lysa noticed the lingering gazes between you and the lord because she leaned over to you and said, “Go dance with him. It is obvious you want to.”

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Seductive Manipulation pt. 2- Beg

Part 2/3 of Seductive Manipulation. I do not own Petyr Baelish, Cersei Lannister or Lysa Arryn. They belong to George R.R. Martin.

Warnings: Steam, tension

Pairings: Petyr Baelish x fem!reader, Cersei Lannister, Lysa Arryn. 

Petyr felt his lips turn down into frown as he read your letter again. Apparently, you were needed elsewhere in the Seven Kingdoms and you left King’s Landing. You didn’t say where, only that your arrangement with Petyr had to, unfortunately, come to an end. Petyr  had read and reread your letter multiple times since you left it for him over a month before. Now, as Petyr himself was preparing to leave King’s Landing, he reminisced on the nights he’d been with you, gathering information through rather…unconventional means. He sighed as he finished packing his belongings.

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Seductive Manipulation

Anonymous asked: Hi there! I would like to submit a Baelish x fem(reader) ship in which the reader is a courtier in King’s Landing whom he has kidnapped to obtain information on what the Lannisters are plotting. I’d like it to start out sinister & threatening and then end up more tenderly seductive though still sinister as they both realize their mutual attraction.

Part 1/3

I really hope this meets your expectations. I do not own Petyr Baelish. He belongs to George R.R. Martin.

Warnings: brief mentions of kidnapping, I guess and some steam. It’s pretty dark.

Pairings: Petyr Baelish x fem!reader

When you opened your eyes, you were in a dark room that you didn’t recognize. You’d been taken from the corridors of the Red Keep on your way to your chambers. You did, however, recognize the voice of your captor, “Ah, you’re awake. You are a difficult woman to subdue.” You glared into the darkness as a candle was lit. “Lord Baelish,” you greeted through gritted teeth. His practiced smile looked even more sinister in the candlelight. “Why am I here?” you asked, getting up from the bed you were laying on.

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[luulaloops]

Recent GOT FAN..

Looking for good writings for Littlefinger, Jamie & Jorah…your girl is WAYYY behind on jumping on the bandwagon

[luulaloops]

Partners in Crime II

Title: Partners in Crime II

Pairing: Petyr Baelish x female!Reader

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: character death, sadness, betrayal

Summary: You should have trusted your instincts to not trust Petyr.

(A/n: I suck at summaries.J)

Part1: here (when things were still nice and fluff)

The room was colder than you were normally comfortable with. As you lifted your eyes looking outside to the snow laying on your window sill you realised the Starks were right after all. Winter was coming. Had come.

You sighted. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You never wanted this.

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Partners in Crime

Title: Partners in Crime

Pairing: Petyr Baelish x female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: none I guess

Summary: Petyr insists on coming with you when you go to see your parents. He has a surprising proposition for your father.

(A/n: I suck at summaries.J)

“I will be out of town for a fortnight.”

Your voice was even as you informed Lord Baelish of your plans. Of course you weren’t obligated to tell him anything, but as partners it seemed appropriate. Plus if you were to vanish without a word you would have to deal with his spies which you considered way more exhausting then simply telling him of your boring travel plans.

“You are leaving?” Lord Baelish didn’t even look up from his studies. He sat behind his desk, doing numbers or scheming to steal some secrets - You didn’t care all too much. If it were important he would tell you - if he was smart - or you would find out some other way and he would get hell for keeping it from you. Most of the time your relationship with him was as simple as that.

“May I ask where you’re going?” He still didn’t look up, but you saw the slight twitch in his face. He was all ears and ready to spot a lie. As if he could catch you lying if you truly put effort into deceiving him.

“I’m to see my parents.”

Now that made him look up, his eyes locked with yours in curiosity.

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We’re Not All the Same

A Wattpad request. I do not own Petyr Baelish. He belongs to George R.R.Martin.

Warnings: brief mentions of torture

Pairings: Petyr Baelish x Bolton reader

You watched across the courtyard of Winterfell as your brother spoke with Petyr Baelish. The acting Lord of the Vale intrigued you, but at the same time, he infuriate you. He knew precisely what your brother was capable of and still he practically gave Sansa Stark to him. Petyr bowed his head and turned away from Ramsay. His green-grey eyes found yours almost immediately and he smirked before making his way over to you.

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All Good Things Must End

Not a request. It was just an idea that wouldn’t leave my mind alone. I do not own Petyr Baelish. He belongs to George R.R. Martin. 

Warnings: implied sexy times, angst, I guess.

Pairings: Petyr Baelish x fem!reader

You glanced over at the sleeping man beside you. Petyr looked rather peaceful when he was asleep. There was no trace of the cold and calculating man that was present during his waking hours. You carefully got up from the bed and searched for your dress, lost somewhere in the frenzied tornado that had been you and Petyr the night before. That was the way you and Petyr always were whenever you journeyed to King’s Landing. Your father, a lord, always insisted that you join him. Your days were spent with the other ladies and the lords while your nights were spent in Lord Petyr Baelish’s bed.

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Plotting

Requested by @sadkenobi:  Hi sweetie :) Can I request oneshot, where reader and Littlefinger are plotting against Lannisters and somehow they found out about that? Ending up to you. Thank you :*

Here it is, lovely! I do not own Petyr Baelish, Jaime or Tywin Lannister. They belong to George R.R.Martin. (Reminder that Game of Thrones requests are closed.)

Warnings: It’s kinda short and maybe one swear.

Pairings: Petyr Baelish x reader, mentions of Jaime and Tywin Lannister

“Hello, Petyr,” you greeted upon hearing the door close. You knew exactly who it was. The only person who came to see you so late was Lord Petyr Baelish. “Hello, Y/N. I trust all is going according to plan?” You smirked at the whoremonger. “Of course it is. Casterly Rock will soon be taken from the Lannisters. I know what I am doing. The question is, do you?”

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Birthday Romance

Requested by @iheartthelochnessmonster:  I KNOW I JUST REQUESTED SOMETHING BUT MY BIRTHDAY IS THIS NEXT TUESDAY (the 19th) AND I WAS WONDERING COULD I PLEASE GET SOMETHING SUPER FLUFFY WITH PETYR BAELISH WHERE ITS HIS WIFES BIRTHDAY AND HE TAKES HER OUT FOR A ROMANTIC EVENING!!! Ty. I’m sorry I got really excited.

Happy Belated Birthday, lovely! I do not own Petyr Baelish. He belongs to George R.R.Martin.

Warnings: Little bit of cliche fluff; modern AU

Pairings: Petyr Baelish x wife!reader

(f/f) = favorite food

(f/g) = favorite gemstone

You were humming happily to yourself when your husband wandered into the kitchen.  "Good morning, darling,“ he greeted with a small smile that you returned eagerly. Petyr’s smiles were rare and his real smiles, even more so. He reserved them only for you. “Good morning, Petyr.” You poured him a cup of coffee and kissed his cheek. As you turned back to the breakfast you were in the middle of cooking, you felt Petyr’s arms wrap around you.

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[luulaloops]

Seductive Manipulation pt. 3 -Price of Freedom

This was requested by several Wattpad AND a couple Tumblr users!

Requested by @sadkenobi:  Your fic, Seductive Manipulation, gives me life. This is the best!!! And I want more :D Pretty please .)

@elenawrit: Hello ! I know that requests are closed, but can we have a third part for seductive manipulation, and more parts maybe ? Do what yu want, but I really like that fic ! thanks ! ;)

Part 3/3 of “Seductive Manipulation”, “Beg”. I really hope this meets your expectations. I do not own Petyr Baelish (sadly) or Lysa Arryn. They belong to George R.R. Martin.

Warnings: a little bit of tension, death and it is long!

Pairings: Petyr Baelish x fem!reader; mentions of Lysa Arryn

You smirked at Petyr over the top of your goblet. He glared back over the top of his. He was now married and he already hated it. He loved the power and the title of Acting Lord of the Vale, but he hated that his arrangement with you was over. And what he hated more was the hold you seemed to have over him. No one had ever been able to make him beg before you. If not for his pride, Petyr would be on his knees begging for you every chance he got and he loathed it.

              To Petyr, it seemed as if this was effecting him more than you, but in truth, you liked having him in your bed. Hells, you loved it. However, you were not about to back down from the few morals you still had. At least that’s what you told yourself. You tried to convince yourself that what you had with Petyr was an arrangement of mutual benefit and nothing more. Now, you were free to do what you wanted within reason and, at that moment, there was a young lord that caught your eye. Apparently, Lysa noticed the lingering gazes between you and the lord because she leaned over to you and said, “Go dance with him. It is obvious you want to.”

Keep reading

[luulaloops]

Walking Contradiction

Anonymous asked: Hiya! If it’s not to much trouble, would you write a Petyr x Reader imagine where the reader is really sweet and nice but very smart and cunning and she falls in love with him? Like, she’s the perfect lady but can outwit anyone? If not thanks anyway! P.S love your blog :D

I do not own Petyr. He belongs to George R.R.Martin. (Reminder that GoT requests are currently closed.)

Warnings: manipulation…forced betrothal, I guess.

Pairings: Petyr Baelish x fem!reader

Petyr stared at you in disbelief. Never had he met a more cunning woman. Not even Cersei. Cersei was cunning in a different way.  You knew just how to manipulate people without them knowing they were being manipulated and the best part? You never acted anything less than the perfect lady. “Good evening, Lord Baelish,” you greeted with a smile. To anyone else, it would seem like just a friendly gesture, but Petyr knew better. He knew that smile hid something.

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[luulaloops]

Fancy

Anonymous asked: hi I love your blog and your writing! I am also a sucker for littlefinger tbh so can I please request a petyr Baelish x reader where petyr visits a small house to speak with the lord, but takes a fancy to his daughter who is due to be married to another? thank you

I apologize for taking so long! I do not own Petyr Baelish. He belongs to George R.R. Martin.

Warnings: none that I can think of. A little bit of fluff

Pairings: Petyr Baelish x fem!reader

Lord Petyr Baelish sighed as the carriage pulled to a stop. Robin Arryn had asked Petyr to travel to some of the smaller houses and convince the lords to pledge to the Vale. Petyr willing agreed, knowing he would technically have complete control since Robin really was uncertain of how to lead. However, after several weeks of traveling, Petyr was becoming restless.

              Petyr stepped down from the carriage and was greeted by the lord of the house himself. “Lord Baelish, you honor us with your presence,” the lord greeted. Petyr gave a slight bow and turned his attention to the lady of house and then to the lord’s children. You stood next to your mother, your head held high. Your (e/c) eyes met Petyr’s green-grey ones and for a brief moment, Petyr froze.

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[luulaloops]

His Return

Requested by @elenawrit:  Hey, sweetie, I have two requests for you, a third part for your petyr baelish, seductive manipulation (but i think i’m not the only one to ask ;) ) and a jorah mormont x fem!reader, where he meets the reader while he tries to cure his greyscale, he is cured and he comes back in westesros, after Dany wins the war. He brings with him the reader, who is pregnant, and OR he comes back home, in the bear island OR he goes to the capitale, with a fluffy end ? thanks ;) ! (i’m sorry if it’s too long)

Here you go, lovely!! I do not own Jorah or Daenerys. They belong to George R.R.Martin.

Warnings: pregnancy, possible spoilers

Pairings/Characters: Jorah Mormont x pregnant!reader, mentions of Daenerys

Jorah had a decision to make. He’d finally found a cure for the Greyscale and was making his way back to Westeros. Word had spread that Daenerys had won the war and the Iron Throne.  A few months before, Jorah would not have hesitated to return to the Targaryen’s side. That was before he met you. Before he fell in love with you.

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