#GoT imagines

[targaryenimagines]

My Khaleesi

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,586

Summary: Daenerys claims more than the Iron Throne on the day she takes King’s Landing.

Warning(s): Smut and G!P Daenerys.

Notes: Wasn’t sure if you wanted Dark!Dany (in a sense) or not, but decided to just do it that way for this one shot! If you’d like another one with a non dark Dany, I’ll be more than happy to do that. Also, this is definitely the most graphic smut I’ve written… I apologize if it’s bad.

Series Masterlist

Ash still falls from the sky like distorted flecks of snow— rubble shifts under foot as you make your way through the courtyard of the Red Keep. You didn’t have to turn your head far to see the destruction that had been wrought across King’s Landing, a destruction that had come at the hands of the woman you love the most in this world.

Fire and blood had come to Westeros, you think, side-stepping a charred corpse. And penance seemed to have been paid in full.

The sights, along with the smells, that assault you the farther you trek into the once great city aren’t something that sits well with you, nor does the knowledge that Westeros had pushed Daenerys, your Dany, to this point. That all of her grief: Viserion, Jorah, Rhaegal, and Missandei, along with all of her men that she lost in the North, had forced her spirit into shattering so completely.

I don’t want to be Queen of the Ashes…

A saying that had constantly been thrown towards Daenerys, that had been used as a means to control her, keep her in line, and what better way to do that then remind her of her father’s legacy, a tale that’s haunted her ever since she discovered it, and had been continually repeated until Daenerys spouted it out as if she was simply talking about the weather. Her drive, the passion that had carried her through Essos, slowly being driven out of her the longer she spent in the toxic landscape that is Westeros; forever surrounded by the tales of her ancestors, by the fear and hatred that the people she saved showed her, at the clear refusal to ever accept her as anything more than a Targaryen Whore.

Rounding the corner of yet another hallway, you pause just outside of the throne room, or what you believe to be anyway, and think over everything that had transpired. Think of the darkness that had seemed to have only grown in intensity since the Night King had been dealt with. Would Daenerys, after all of this, still wish to see you? Would you still have a place by her side?

Only one way to find out…

With a deep intake of breath, you step fully into the debilitated area that had once been a source of great pride— at the head of it all being the almost legendary throne itself, a mass of melted together swords, and standing before it?

Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

At the sound of your approaching footsteps, Daenerys turns from her perusal of the throne, and a warm smile quirks her lips at your nearing form.

“Ñuha jorrāelagon,” she murmurs, adoration clear within violet eyes. Slim arms wrapping around your middle the moment your close enough for her to grab. A single gloved finger gently tracing down the expanse of your cheek, rubbing away the hints of ash that still remained. “I’m glad to see you unharmed. I don’t know what I would have done if that hadn’t been the case.”

You lean into the hand still resting on your cheek, a happy smile of your own making an appearance. “Burn down the rest of Westeros?” A dark look flashes through violet eyes, your joke suddenly taking on an all too serious light that you desperately wanted to veer away from. Bumping into her slightly, you disentangle from slim arms, warmed by the smallest bit of hesitance she had at letting you go, you step closer to the throne. “This is it? The Iron Throne?”

Daenerys settles next to you. “It is.” She touches the arm of it with an almost reverent air. “After all these years, all the trials and tribulations that I went through, I’m finally here. A Targaryen is finally the holder of the Iron Throne once more. I’ve brought honor back to my family.”

“You’ve honored them for years already, Dany. You simply being alive is honor by itself.” You angle your head, not surprised at all to see that she had already been looking at you. “This just exemplifies you into the ranks of Aegon.”

Violet eyes gleam with an almost childlike wonder, the hand closest to you touching your cheek with the same reverence she had shown the throne. “Aegon had his wives, he had his queens.” She steps away from you, taking her rightful seat on the throne. “Something that I’ll be in need of moving forward.”

Your head dips. “Anything I can help you with?”

Daenerys chuckles lightly, the sound rumbling from deep within her chest like one of Drogon’s roars. “There is, Y/N.” Gesturing for you to come closer, a command that you listen to without question, she gently maneuvers you into a kneeling position before her, slender fingers tangling themselves within the strands of your hair. “Say yes.”

“Your Grace?”

“Say yes to marrying me, to becoming my wife and queen.” Her holds tightens, forcing your head to tilt back. “Say yes to becoming mine and I’ll make sure everything you could ever want becomes yours.”

A small smile twists your lips upward. “Everything that I could ever want already is.”

At the words a small growl escapes Daenerys, her head dipping downward to press a heated kiss to your lips, maintaining that you’re kept in place by the iron-clad hold she still has on your hair. And, like with everything else, Daenerys didn’t hesitate in conquering what is hers, tongue barely brushing over your bottom lip before she plunders into your mouth, taking you for everything you have. The taste of you, the submission in which you’re showing her, along with the location no doubt, makes Daenerys almost frantic in her need for you.

Barely pulling away, giving you both a moment to breathe, before she’s claiming your lips once more— it’s wet, filthy in a way that makes your mind fog over in lust, and you can’t quite get enough air into your lungs through your nose, something that constantly ensures her scent is all that you’re surrounded by, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Wouldn’t want to be in any other position than where you are now; kneeling in front of your Khaleesi, her pleasure becoming yours.

Finally, with a ragged breath, Daenerys fully pulls away from you, a thin trail of saliva still connecting you both, before she shifts too far back and it snaps in half. Violet eyes, blown nearly black in lust, pin you in place as Daenerys slowly undoes the buckle of her pants, and jerks it down, the actions clear on what she expected from you. And, without preamble, or any sort of prompting, you help Daenerys with removing them, gently taking off her boots, before pulling her tight-fitting pants off her slim legs. The sight that greets you once you look up almost causing your mouth to dry up completely.

Daenerys Targaryen sat in all of her glory, bare from the waist down, her thick member jutting out from the apex of her thighs. The look in her eyes, in the darkness that lurks just out of reach, tells you all that you need to know, how your Khaleesi wished for you to service her next. Something you didn’t have a problem with doing, damn the consequences of potentially being caught in the wide open throne room.

Taking her into your hands, feeling her warmth, and the way that she twitches ever-so-slightly at your touch, is a heady sort of power that you’re never going to get used to.

Taking her into your mouth, jaw stretched wide to accommodate her girth, feeling the way she arches into the wetness it provides, hands tightening even further into your hair, the wonderful concoction of pain and pleasure, fuels you more than anything ever could.

Bobbing up and down, taking her deeper and deeper into your throat, listening to the breathy sighs she lets loose whenever she completely bottoms out, is a drug you never want to get off of. Her flavor— musky with just the barest hint of sweetness and something spicy— spreads across your tastebuds, your tongue lovingly swirling around the tip of her cock, taking in as much of her as you possibly could.

“Iksā doing sīr sȳz syt nyke.” The Valyrian praise escapes her in a low snarl, hands now guiding you in the exact way she wanted, your own simply being braced on her thighs as you let her use you. “Issare iā sȳz riña syt nyke. Ñuha sȳz riña.”

All you can do is moan in response, mouth completely stuffed full of her, but the vibrations makes her tense even further, another snarl rumbling from deep within her. You know that she’s close, can tell by the way her thighs were beginning to tremble underneath your touch, and the quickening of her thrusts, and your head moves even faster because of it— wanting nothing more than to feel her release down your throat, for your tongue to be coated by her cum.

“Issi ao jāre naejot gūrogon ziry mirre? Gūrogon everything bona nyke tepagon ao?” Daenerys groans out the question, clearly fighting with herself to not succumb just yet to the pleasure of her release. Peering up, you’re instantly met with darkened violet eyes, a rosy hue predominant across fair cheeks. Clearly waiting for a response, all you can do is gurgle around the cock currently in your throat, hoping that your eyes gave her all the answers she needed, which, by the tightening of her hands, absolutely did. “Sȳz riña.”

Within the next moment, jets of Daenerys cum shoots out, going straight into your stomach as you desperately swallow to make sure you don’t lose any of it. The feeling of warmth as her seed settles deep within you is one you’ve long since grown familiar with, but the possessive heat in her eyes as she watches you swallow it all down is definitely new. A reaction that causes your own arousal to come to the forefront of your mind finally, wetness clearly coating your thighs, waiting for your Khaleesi’s touch.

Daenerys pulls her cock from your mouth a moment later— the still hard length shimmering with the combination of leftover cum and saliva— allowing for you to take a deep lungful of air at last. Remnants of her still on your tongue.

Her thumb brushes across your bottom lip, briefly pushing into your mouth for you to suck on, before she retracts her hand and tugs you up onto her lap. Slim arms bracing your lower half perfectly against herself, settling her own body more fully on the Iron Throne.

“You did so good for me,” she murmurs, trailing slender fingers down your thighs. Nowhere near where you needed her the most though. “Do you want to continue?”

You nod. “More than anything, Khaleesi.“

Daenerys hums at the old title, hands gripping your hips in a hold that you know would leave bruises, lips ghosting across your jawline and down your neck.

“You’re mine, right?” Teeth nips into the sensitive flesh beneath your pulse point. “No one else can have you this way, fuck you the way that I can, or hear the beautiful noises you make when you fall apart.”

“Only you, Dany,” you whisper, nuzzling your nose against hers. “It’ll only ever be you. I’m yours completely.”

There isn’t need for more words after that, Daenerys simply hikes your dress higher up your waist, tearing your small-clothes away completely, before rubbing her hardened member against the wetness that has collected between your legs, a deep groan escaping her at the feeling of your clear want for her.

Within the next heartbeat, she’s buried to the hilt within you, a sharp keen being ripped from your chest at the feeling of complete fullness, the delicious stretch as your body tries to acclimate to the feeling of her, and begins to rut roughly into you. Hands slide from their place on your waist to settle on your hips, guiding you up and down as you begin to bounce in response to her thrusts.

A breathy moan falls from your lips, arms wrapped tightly around Daenerys neck, tugging her closer to you, continuing to ride her in complete abandon, wet slapping noise, intercepted by occasional grunts and moans, filled the air, echoing out across the empty throne room. A part of you thinks that you might even be able to be heard down below, the ripped open wall next to the throne offering an excellent siphon to the noises, but then Daenerys twists her hips in just the right way and everything, that doesn’t have to do with the mind numbing pleasure she gives you, vanishes from you mind in an instant.

Nails make crescent moons in the soft flesh of your hips, bruises no doubt already forming on your lower abdomen from how hard Daenerys was thrusting up into you, but the knowledge that your Khaleesi is marking you in such a way, that she’s lost parts of her control because of you, makes you not care in the slightest— you were hers, completely and irreversibly. Her pleasure was your own.

With another strangled gasp, your head falls to her chest, still clad in her formal garb, the metal cool against the heated expanse of your forehead, no longer being able to keep yourself upright. You could feel your climax approaching— coming faster and faster as Daenerys brushed against the spot within you every time she pulled out. Your core clenching around her desperately, trying to keep her within you, milk her for all that she’s worth, and the tight constriction causes a strangled sound of her own to resonate from your Khaleesi.

Feet planted firmly into the floor, she begins to piston fully into you, your body arching into her, allowing her to move you as she saw fit, clearly chasing her second release and your own.

“I’m going to mark you in a way that no one ever has.” Feverish violet eyes meet your own, strands of silvery-gold hair sticking to her heated cheeks, torn from their intricate braids, as her grip on you tightens more. “You’re going to bear my children, you’re going to continue on the Targaryen name. Would you like that?”

You moan. “Yes.”

The thought of carrying her children, of continuing on the Targaryen Legacy, filled you with a sense of purpose, a sense of warmth.

Pushing your head further into her chest, you plead. “Do it, Khaleesi. Claim me.”

With a ragged snarl, Daenerys’s hips stutter and before you know it jets of warmth fill you up, going straight to your womb. The feeling triggers your own release, a broken moan leaving you as you milk Daenerys for everything she has, everything that she’d be willing to offer. Harshly panting, Daenerys settles back onto the throne, hands gently running down your spine, holding you as closely as she possibly still could, still buried inside of you.

“Thank you,” she whispers, nuzzling you before she presses a kiss to your damp temple.

You sigh, content in her arms. “Always.”

Pressing another kiss to your head, Daenerys angles your face in order for you to look at her, the open look of adoration on her face one that’d only ever be reserved for you and her son.

“My beautiful love, my lovely wife.” She drops a chaste kiss to your lips, her hips beginning to move once more. “My eternal queen.”

“My Khaleesi.”

[luvinescent]

Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

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

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

Dorea named her Y/N.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can become a Stark”.

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you love him?”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[promptthebear]

Could you do a 🐰 Drabble with Peter for 27?? Or anyone really, I just think that it needs to get out in something thank youu

Below the Belt

Tormund Giantsbane x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: Tormund is in love with you. It isn’t reciprocated, and a little wager goes horribly wrong.

CW: Swearing. Tormund behaving like a little boy with a crush, think pulling pigtails for attention. Kind of enemies to lovers dynamics but not quite. Mild implications that the reader has been abused. 2nd person, reader is referred to as "you"

A/N: I’m baaaaaaaccckk! This is my first time writing for Tormund so pls be nice.

Tormund was bored, which meant he had gone from being a tolerable pest to the biggest, loudest nuisance in all the Seven Kingdoms. Even worse, he had somehow used the ale soaked lump he called a brain to convince himself that he was besotted with you. And so, since Brienne had found you wandering through the ass end of the North and started bringing you back to your half brother on the Wall you hadn’t known a moment’s peace.

“Can’t you make him shut up?” you begged the lady knight one evening, not even bothering to hide your desperation. You’d been through a lot these last few months, far too much to have stupid stories about she-bears and giant’s tits be the thing that finally broke you.

“Trust me, my Lady,” Brienne replied, not even glancing up from where her whetstone slid across the edge of her blade “If I knew how, I would’ve done so the moment I met him.”

You glanced over your shoulder to shoot Tormund a withering look. As though he knew he was being discussed, the giant Wildling met your glare with a broad smile and a wink. You scoffed, tugged your cloak tighter around your shoulders and stared into the meagre flames of your small campfire. Perhaps if you looked at it long enough and wished hard enough, it would suddenly blossom into a full hearth complete with a pot of mulled wine and aurocs on a spit. And perhaps, dragons would live again and every last one of the Lannisters would drop dead by morning.

“Y’cold, beauty?”

The first time you’d heard Tormund address someone as such, it had been Brienne. However, when she’d shoved the tip of her sword against the hollow of his throat and told him she’d forsake her honor without hesitation should he even think about calling her that again, he’d awarded the title to you. You’d also threatened his life in increasingly creative ways whenever he did so, but unfortunately your words didn’t have the same impact as Brienne’s. Instead, they only seemed to spur the stupid man on and multiply his interest in you tenfold.

“No,” you shot back, your tone just as icy as your frozen toes. “Not in the least.”

“Then why are you shivering?” Tormund asked, eyes gleaming “A delicate little southron blossom like you isn’t meant to sit in the snow.”

“I’m from the bloody North, Tormund. How many times need I tell you?!”

The giant made a rude noise in response, blowing air between his lips and shaking his head.

“No, girl. I’m from the North. The Real North. You Winterfell lot and your ilk are nothing more than a lot of Southern twats who wandered too far up the coast and were too busy freezing your arses off to bother going back.”

“Lady-” this came from Podrick, who usually was too shy to say much to you but even he could recognize that Tormund had taken things a step too far. You were on your feet and bearing down on the Wilding before you even really understood what was happening.

“How dare you?! How dare YOU?! I am a Stark. My ancestors were the Kings of Winter. My father, his grandfather and his great grandfather were all Wardens of the North. We are descended from the First of Men, we drove the Andals out of Westeros and brought Kings to their knees. We have endured for hundreds of years, and thrived where lesser men have withered. Our crypts go as far back as-”

As quickly as your tirade began, it stopped with the faint sound of your teeth clicking as your jaw snapped shut. Echoes of your enraged speech bounced around the clearing, your righteous anger drifting up into the bare branches of the skeleton trees and into the black night sky beyond. Your cheeks still burned hot with ire and your chest heaved, your breaths coming in shaky huffs while your hands fisted and tangled around handfuls of your skirts. Were it not for the love you bore your late mother, you would have reached out and shook Tormund’s neck until it snapped. Because even after the earful he’d just gotten, the fucking fool was laughing at you.

Not just a little chuckle, either. Tormund’s head was tossed back against his shoulders, his mouth open wide while tears streamed from his eyes, laughing as though he would never stop. The flush on your cheeks quickly turned from one of anger to one of embarrassment. Of course. You had fallen right in to his trap. Tormund had wanted you to become angry with him, he had poked and prodded at you the same way a bear might be baited at a feast. The intent was the same too. He was looking for amusement. Gods, how you wanted to kill him.

Eventually, the Widling man managed to quiet himself down to the point where he could speak in between a few sparse chortles though it took several deep breaths and even then, his shoulders still shook with lingering mirth.

“Well,” he said, dabbing at his eyes with the edge of his cloak “You certainly sound like a Northerner, and you’ve shown me that pretty hair of yours is for more than just good looks. But, I’m afraid you’ll always be a little Southern princess to me. Unless…”

While you sported your father’s grey eyes and your mother’s red curls, you hadn’t inherited their stoicism or their tact. You were far too often entirely bound to the whims of your temper, especially when someone waved a challenge so obviously right beneath your nose. The clever thing would have been to walk away and leave Tormund stewing for the night, but the temptation to put him in his place was far too strong.

“Unless what, you blithering idiot?”

Tormund grinned, his blue eyes turning soft as though you were cooing sweet nothings rather than barking insults. He then rose to his feet and strode over to you, his long legs closing the distance in a matter of seconds. You’d expected him to at least have enough sense to stand at arm’s length from you, but that was far too much to demand of his simple intellect. No, Tormund didn’t stop until he was practically standing on top of you, so close you could feel his breath ghosting across the crown of your head and smell the dampness on his cloak.

The sound of a sword unsheathing made you glance quickly over your shoulder, where you saw Brienne now standing with her weapon drawn. You gave a subtle shake of your head, to which she responded with an equally short nod though you noticed she didn’t remove her hand from her hilt either. You stole a brief look at Podrick as well, though the young squire had little more to offer you than a half hearted shrug.

Grumbling under your breath, you turned back to face Tormund. The sudden closeness now meant that you could no longer look the man in the eye without craning your neck upwards or taking a few steps back. Not wanting to seem intimidated by his nonsense, you chose the former and fixed the Wildling with a searing gaze. Tormund chuckled in response, the sound as rich and dark as Dornish wine. A unwanted, tingling warmth began to grow in your belly but you quickly squashed it with a hard bite to the inside of your cheek.

“Alright little one,” the giant said so softly he was nearly whispering “You want to be a real Northerner? Then show me. Show me you’re more than just talk, and I’ll believe you.”

You wrinkled your nose, but didn’t break from his stare. It felt as though his deep, ocean blue eyes were boring right in to the depths of your soul.

“How?”

Movement at Tormund’s hip made you flinch involuntarily, which caused his brow to crease in concern. However, when you didn’t react further he pushed aside his cloak and pulled out a stone knife with a bone handle. You stared at the flint blade, watching the way glinted in the faint firelight.

“If you can take this from me in the next minute or so, then I’ll believe you’re truly a Northerner…” he paused and drew in a sharp breath “And, I’ll be yours. Mind, body and soul, from now until my dying breath.”

You let out a derisive snort.

“Is that it? Truly? You’re betting your freedom on whether or not I can take your poxy knife? Tell me Tormund, are all Wildlings this stupid or are you the exception?”

You couldn’t help but relish the way the ever present grin fell from the giant man’s face. Clearly, his little proposition hadn’t garnered the reaction he’d been hoping for.

“I’m exceptional in more ways then you know, beauty.” He replied, quickly regaining his composure and leering openly at you “Though perhaps it isn’t quite fair to pit such a sweet little thing against a mighty warrior such as-”

Whatever Tormund was going to say next would forever remain a mystery. Instead, all that could be heard was a faint, guttural sort of choking sound. Tormund quite looked like he was choking too. His pale skin had turned almost as red as his hair, while his mouth hung open in a silent gasp and his wide eyes stared blindly down at the snowy ground.

“How?” he sputtered, bent double with his hands clutched over his loins.

“Easy,” you replied, tossing his knife from your right hand to your left “I have two older brothers. Three, if you count that traitorous Greyjoy fucker. When needs must, I know where to hit.”

Tormund drew in another deep breath, which was followed by a series of coughs and a few strangled laughs. For some reason, this made you grin all the wider. Even after taking a full on strike to the bollocks, Tormund could still find a reason to laugh.

“Clearly, I underestimated you girl.”

“Clearly.”

You gently placed the tip of the knife beneath Tormund’s chin, slowly tilting his face upwards so he was looking you in the eye. He looked at you as though he had just discovered his own personal goddess, and he was about to become your most devoted worshiper. The tingling warmth erupted in your gut again, though this time you didn’t try to stop it.

“Do you yield?” you asked, keeping your voice low so only Tormund could hear you. He nodded as much as the knife would allow, and swallowed hard before answering.

“Yes.” came the reply.

“And do you promise not to call me a southerner anymore?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” you said, giving Tormund’s cheek a rough pat before straightening and turning round to face Podrick and Brienne. The young squire was gawping at you with renewed fear in his eyes, while Brienne was grinning at you from ear to ear. It was the happiest you’d seen her in months.

“Will one of you please see to him?” you asked, your voice practically dripping honey “It would be a shame if our journey was delayed because Tormund was too sore to sit a saddle.”

As you began to walk away, snow faintly crunching under your boots, you saw Podrick dart past from the corner of your eye. He immediately went to Tormund, bending at the waist so he could better assess the Wilding for damage.

“Are you alright…Sir?” you heard him say hesitantly

“Oh look,” came Tormund’s reply, sounding far too pleased for someone in his condition “My will to live. It’s gone.”

[chloe-skywalker]

Protection - Jaime Lannister

Jaime x fem!reader Stark

Warnings: GOT

Word count: 2,033

Summary: Reader is a Stark stuck in King's Landing after everything and including her fathers death. The only one that seems to care about her is shockingly Jaime Lannister.

Authors Note: I think after the changes Jaime’s character made from being held captive by the Stark’s and losing his hand plus his time with Brienne that he would be protective of the Stark girls. The oath he made to Catelyn he didn’t want to break, so I think that means something. Just like he couldn’t himself but he helped himself and Breinne by sending her to go look after and find Arya and Sansa. - I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to be romantic or him protecting her because she resembled what he thought a daughter of his own would be like or if he was honoring his promise to Catelyn. I tried to leave it open.

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

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Y/n didn’t understand what she had done in life to deserve this treatment. To have the recent events happen in her life. To watch her little brother almost die from a horrible fall, to then having to watch her father be executed, she didn’t know where her youngest sister was, she had to watch her other younger sister be tormented by a brat that was only going to become a awful king, and her older brother by a year had started a war to get them back with their mother by his side.

But how she had managed to have the Queen’s rath bestowed upon her in physical abuse. Y/n didn’t know how that happened and she knew for fact she hadn’t done anything to deserve it.

But Y/n had been in Kings Landing long enough to know that Cersei and Joffery didn’t need reasons to be cruel. It just seemed to be part of their personality.

Tyrion was the only kind one to Y/n and Sansa. Along with his friend Bronn and man servant Podrick. Y/n didn’t trust anyone else in the Red Keep.

Lately Y/n noticed Jaime, ever since he got back he had been trying to get close to her and Sansa. But neither Stark knew what to make of it. He really was trying to get closer to Y/n, but Y/n was worried that it was some kind of plan from Cersei.

It was a normal sunny day, Y/n actually thought it’d be a good day to go out and walk or ride but leaving her room? That didn’t feel like a good idea, given her appearance.

Suddenly in the incredibly quiet room there were sounds of knocking on her chamber doors. Y/n gave a soft ‘come in’, just loud enough for the person on the other side of the door to hear.

Upon seeing Jaime Lannister Y/n nervously started ringing her hands at what they might have planned for her now. “Ser Jaime. To what do I owe this visit to?”

Jaime shook his head. “I’m not here on any business.”

“Oh?” Y/n was curious but she still wanted to be cautious. So she kept her head down. For more than just that reason though.

Jaime noticed the way she was holding herself and it reminded him of a scared animal. So he raised his arms to show he didn’t mean her any harm. Her behavior made his eyes fill with concern. “Y/n, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Y/n realized that this could be very bad so she needed to back track. “Ser Jaime, I-I meant no o-offense.” She stuttered shaking her head but still keeping it down with her hair framing her face to cover her face from his view.

“You made none. No reason to apologize.” He quickly reassured.

As they stood there Jaime took more notice of things. Things that were making him more concerned by the second. So he took enough steps to be standing right in front of her.

“Y/n, look at me. Please.” Jaime asked, but when he noticed how she was so hesitant to do as he asked. Jaime slowly raised his hand to lift her chin, as gently as possible to not spook her. When she was finally looking him in the eye, face to face is when Jaime noticed. She has a bruised cheek bone which to him looked almost like it belonged to a fading black eye, and she had a cut on her eyebrow and her lip. No wonder she was hiding her face, he thought. “Who did this?”

“No one, Ser Jaime. I fell that’s all.” Y/n quickly tried to dismiss, hoping he’d let it go. If she said something and he was sent by Cersei, then it’d get worse. If he was genuinely concerned for her and she told him, he might not believe her. His twin sister did it after all.

“Please don’t lie to me, Lady Y/n.” He pleaded with her. His concern was growing more and more. But he also had his suspicions. “Who did this?”

Y/n cast her sight back down to the floor, not wanting to lie to his face. With how much genuine concern was in his eyes and actions, she felt bad lying to him. “No one, Ser.”

Jaime let out a sigh, he could clearly see she wasn’t going to verbalize her answer. Which inwardly gave him his answer anyway and he could feel anger bubbling up inside of him. He knew in his gut who did this, and he wasn’t going to let it go. “Can I see you later Milady?”

Y/n nodded, stepping back still not lifting her gaze. Of course she said he could. He seemed to be one of the only people who cared as of late, but also she didn’t really have a choice. Not in her situation. “If you so wish to, Ser Jaime.”

Her behavior honestly scared Jaime slightly. She didn’t seem like the same girl he met in Winterfell or the same one that was in Kings Landing when he lft and was captured.

Ever since that encounter Jaime had been visiting and spending a lot more time with Y/n Stark. No one would bother her with him at his side.

But Jaime had yet to have that talk with his sister. But today was the day, he had heard some concerning things from the handmaidens assigned to Y/n and he was fuming.

“Ah, brother. What is so urgent that you came barging into my chambers without knocking.” Cersei spoke sarcastically as he barged into her room.

“What did you do to Y/n Stark?” He asked, getting straight to the point, face red with anger.

“The little bitch. Well, what did she say?” Cersei scoffed at even turning to look at her brother.

“Nothing. She said nothing. I came here to you on my own.” Jaime wanted to yell, how could she be so cold.

“How do you know it was me? The girl is quite clumsy.” Cersei smirked, and Jaime wondered if Y/n’s excuse of falling was something she was told to say.

“Oh, I know your handy work when I see it.” He scoffed stating a fact that not even Cersei could argue with.

Cersei could tell he wasn’t gonna drop it once she looked at him, so she sighed and said. “I assure you she deserved it.”

“I can guarantee that she didn’t.” He countered. Jaime knew how petty his sister could be and revenge was something she enjoyed. She wasn’t going to fool him.

“You weren’t here.” She shook her head and growled out her words. Why was he even bringing this up?

“Doesn’t matter.” Jaime didn’t need to be there to know Y/n didn’t deserve his sister's warth.

“Why do you care for this girl?” Cersei asked with a furrowed brow.

“Cersei-”

“No. Why? Why do you care for her so much? After everything her family’s done to ours?!” She yelled at him getting up from her vanity table and stormed over to where he stood.

“She had no part in that!” He yelled back, done with trying to be social.

“Why do you protect her?!” Cersei spat with clear jealousy. Of course she noticed him protecting her but why was what she couldn’t figure out and that angered her more and more. Someone having her twin's attention other than her never sits well with the golden haired Queen.

“Don’t touch her again, Cersei. I mean it.” Jaime stated in a low voice. His expression and tone shocked Cersei. He’s never used either on her and deep down it did shake her a bit. He’s never been this mad at her, or this deeply apparently.

Jaime was going to make sure that Y/n was taken care of. No one would harm her ever again. That he’d promise her. Not even his sister. If Cersei did she’d regret it because he was done with her cruelness.

“And what will you do if I do decide to touch her again?” She questioned as he looked at her so seriously she honestly was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“You don’t want to find out.” He stated before turning to leave, as he opened the door Jaime felt pride in himself. He stood up to his sister for something he believed in.

“Is that a threat?” Cersei asked with narrowed eyes trained on her brother's back.

“Its a promise.” Jaime said before slamming her door behind him. He felt good and now he felt a weight lifted off of himself and Y/n. Sure he still had to watch their backs but Cersei wouldn’t do anything to go against him if she was as smart as she acts.

^     ^     ^

It had been a pretty normal day but Y/n just felt that they all blended together since so much had happened. Things had shockingly gotten better since Jaime and her had become close. But nothing good ever lasts is what she had learned being in King's Landing.

“Come in.” Y/n said upon hearing knocking at her room doors. She turned to face the door after hearing it open, seeing Jaime enter with caution. “Ser Jaime.”

“Lady Y/n.” He bowed his head with a soft smile on his lips, but as he looked around the room and noticed the uneaten food sitting on the table. Jaime’s concern came bubbling back up 10 fold. The handmaidens had told him she was skipping some meals and it worried him. But seeing it was worse. “The handmaidens said you haven’t eaten today.”

Y/n shrugged looking away from him. “Not very hungry.”

Jaime knew that part of it could be the stress of what's happened. It could also be her injuries that made it painful to chew, or it could be something Jaime really hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t even want to think about that idea.

Jaime stepped over to her, brushing her hair away from her face with his hand. Uncovering the still recovering injuries to her face. “Does it hurt?”

Of course it hurt still but he had been so kind to her she didn’t want to worry him. So she shook her head softly. “Not much anymore, Ser.”

“You don’t have to keep up the formalites with me, Y/n.” He smiled softly hoping to make her more comfortable around him. Show her he meant no harm.

“I shouldn’t-” She looked at him with wide scared eyes.

“I’m telling you you can. So you can.” Jaime stopped her calmly, looking her in the eyes. He could see how scared she was to do anything that might cause her to be harmed. Anything that might make it so she could be punished. “I won’t hurt you like my sister.”

“I-” Y/n’s eyes widened, just when he made her a little more comfortable again he say’s that. Y/n shook her head at him in fear. She didn’t tell him who did it so how did he know? Now that he knew what would happen to her? What would the Queen do to her now? Y/n was panicking on the inside.

“You didn’t have to tell me, and don’t worry I’ll protect you from Cersei.” Jaime told her, she had to know. But seeing her so panicked made his heart clench, so he started running his hand through her hair to comfort her and calm her nerves and mind. Jaime grimaced at her reaction for a second. This poor girl was terrified and it was all because of his family.

“How?” Y/n asked him while looking at him like he’s crazy. How could he, a knight, protect her from the Queen? Nobody could control Cersei.

“In any way I can, and I will. She will never harm you again. No one will. Not on my watch.” Jaime vowed to the poor girl that was stuck in this predicament. Not by her own choosing had any of this happened to her. And he was going to stop it and make her life better.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

[tessimagines]

Hello, I’d like to make a request. 💥+Game of Thrones+ a preference about how they would react if you comforted them when they were crying/vulnerable. Feel free to pick the characters you want!

GoT Preference: Comforting them & their Reaction

Jon Snow

We all know Jon is broody

Therefore, he can have a bit of trouble accepting comfort

You can always tell when something is wrong, and will let him know you are always open for comfort

At night, that is when Jon can loosen up a little more

Comforting generally starts with small physical touches, like running a hand through his hair of placing a hand on his back and kissing his cheek

He will eventually begin to talk and accept more physical comfort

The night will end with Jon's head on your chest, you placing soft kisses to his forehead

He doesn't cry often, but knows that if he does in front of you, you will never judge him

He appreciates your comfort more than he lets on

He rarely verbally thanks you, but sometimes, he will leave a little thank you note for you to find in the morning

Robb Stark

Robb knows he can immediately come to you for comfort

If he has any issues or problems, you are generally the first person he wants to discuss them with

After meetings with the heads of other Northern Houses, they will be dismissed and you will stay behind to talk things over

If something is emotionally getting to him, he is the kind of person who wants to talk it over

You can stay up all night, talking over the things that are upsetting him

He also appreciates physical comfort, like holding his hand while he is talking

When he is finished getting all of his emotions out and hearing any of the advise you might have, he will take your face in his hands and kiss you

It's a deep and passionate thank you, one that shows how grateful he is to have you

Eddard Stark

Ned likes to bottle up his emotions

He knows he can always turn to you but it is hard for him to be vulnerable around other people

When things really get to him, he tends to become silent

This is when you know

You will comfort him with a kiss first, and cuddle up to him

He doesn't need words

If he cries, you don't say anything, you know he would rather you just remain physically close

You know he is beginning to feel better when starts to place kisses to your forehead

He doesn't need to say thank you for you to know he appreciates your comfort

The thank you is there when he finds peace and falls asleep in your arms

Jaime Lannister

Jaime is another one who bottles up his emotions

If you ever ask him if he is okay, the answer is always the same: "I'm fine."

Him knowing you care is generally more than enough of a comfort to him

Just asking and a kiss to his cheek is enough to make him feel better. Not completely better, but significantly

Jaime will never admit it but he loves head scratches when he is sad or stressed

He does find it hard to thank you, that requires a vulnerability he doesn't like to show

There are some nights, however, where everything just comes to a head

Tears, sobs, everything. He will start talking about whatever is bothering him with no limitations

In these moments, you just sit and listen. Just the idea of being listened to is perfect for Jaime

To thank you after those nights, he will run you a bath or buy you a gift as a thank you

sometimes, he will even sum up the courage to whisper a thank you in your ear

Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion knows he can rely on you

But when you have spent your whole life being unloved by the people who are supposed to love you most, it can be hard to trust

That's why he can become distant when he is upset

He doesn't like showing vulnerability in fear that you will laugh

He knows this will never happen, but he can't let that feeling go sometimes

When you kiss him though, sometimes you can feel him melt into it

He loves physical comfort

He appreciates that affection more than he could possibly put into words

In these moments, when he can feel you are there for him, sometimes he will let himself cry

And you will just hold him, slowly running your fingers though the mop of curls on his head

He is simple in the way he thanks you - "I love you"

Tormund Giantsbane

Tormund is very open with his feelings

He, of course, likes to appear strong in front of others, but Tormund doesn't seem to equate weakness as being emotionally open and vulnerable

No, to him, that is a showing of true strength

When Tormund is feeling sad or down, he will tell you he is sad or down

He seeks out your comfort more than most men would

If he needs you to hold him, he will tell you and then lie in your arms for as long as he needs

He is not much of a crier, but he is not afraid to shed some tears in front of you

Tormund's way of making it up to you, is a little more physical than others

He is not afraid to show you intimately how much he appreciates your comfort

Sandor Clegane

This man is the king 👑 of repressed emotion

He will simply refuse to accept that anything is wrong with him

If you offer comfort, he is simply not accepting

Dedication is key, however, and sometimes, rarely, Sandor will let you hold him

He might grumble about it, telling you that you are being "fucking stupid", but inside, he revels in it

That physical connection has the power to calm any emotional storm going through them

He will never let you know though, no, that would be way too vulnerable

Jorah Mormont

Jorah is a man who thrives off words of affirmation

The most effective way to comfort him is to reassure him through words

He can totally feel himself calm at your reassurances

Sometimes, all he needs to hear is that he is enough and you love him more than he could possibly imagine

Every time you comfort him, Jorah wonders how he ever ended up having a love like yours

Afterwards, all he wants to do is hold you in his arms and place kisses to your cheek

Sometimes, you have to stop him from continuously thanking you

Oberyn Martell

Oberyn Martell is an emotive man

It is very easy to tell when he is upset

He is honest and real about his emotions, always

He likes to talk them over with you and hear any advise you can offer

Sometimes, though, all he wants or needs is for you to listen

Some nights can be entirely full of him talking about his issues

This will always lead to talk of Elia

As these nights progress, Oberyn's mood always seems to improve

He slowly moves closer

By the end of the night, he has his arms around you and is placing soft kisses all over your body

Oberyn shows his appreciation through pleasure, letting his body do the talking

Gendry Waters

Gendry can get grumpy when he is upset

When he snaps at you, which is rarely, this is when you know something is wrong

A few moments of silence go by before he takes a deep breath and apologises

You don't ever say anything, but instead, you walk over and just wrap your arms around his body

He will always lean into it, taking comfort in the feeling of you holding him

Sometimes, this is all he needs, but other times he needs to talk about his emotions or issues in order to feel better

He will look into your eyes as he does so, their soft expression calming him down

When he is finished you will just smile and place a kiss to his lips

He will place a hand up to your face, running a finger across your cheekbone and thank you

Podrick Payne

Podrick Payne is not a man afraid of crying in front of you

Whenever he is stressed or feeling down, that is what mostly happens

To him, there is no more calming feeling in the world than having you hold him while he cries

He also likes when you just listen to him talk about whatever is bothering him

Your advise is always appreciated too, but he also just likes when you listen to his issues and don't try to solve them

When he feels comforted, his way of thanking you is through acts of service

This can include trying his best to make you a meal or running you a warm bath

You can make your own request for my Back-to-Writing Celebration

Masterlist | Game of Thrones Masterlist

[starryharps]

wildflowers

pairing: rhaegar targaryen/ reader

summary: they fuck in a forest, what more do you want

word count: 1,509

tags: smut. fluff

read on ao3 | masterlist

The brook’s tattering breaks your mid-afternoon daze, with the sunlight chiding your vision as you sit quietly under the impossibly huge tree.

Rhaegar is picking flowers nearby, his harp resting against the bark of another tree. Beautiful thing, it is, to watch him strum those strings, how nimble his fingers look as they dance across the harp, how it plucks and pulls, and-

Gods. Your ears flush red.

What a sinful thought.

You bring your knees together, resting your head over the heavy robes.

For another day.

You hear Rhaegar’s boots become louder and louder, padding gently across the grass before he sits next to you.

Wildflowers. He bought wildflowers.

“Quite a collection,” you remarked.

He hummed, holding some of them in his hands. White, yellow, green, all beautiful and dainty small things.

“Do you know, you can make tea from them.”  he starts, “read it in a maester’s scrolls.”

“You can make tea from almost any flower or leaf if you dry and roast them enough.”

He gazes at you, unimpressed.

“Smartass.”

You chuckled, “logic.”

The prince watches you pick the pennyroyals up.

“Intriguing, you found these here.” You remark.

“Figured you’d appreciate the selection, for you keep collecting flowers.” Referring to your apothecary.

“Oh, so it is not for making flower crowns?”

“I do not know how to make them.”

“Why not?”

Confusion colors him, “What do you mean why not?”

“You’re bookish to a fault, thought you’d know how to make flower crowns to charm ladies.”

“I do not read such books.”

“Explain me tales of the wench and the sailor on your shelf then?”

He sputters, looking away.

“That was a gift.”

“Certain. Boys and their collection of literary erotica they swear to the seven they have never read, but forget to take out the glaring red bookmark.”

He calls out your name, indigant.

“This is unladylike.”

“I thought we dropped court formalities when we entered these forests.”

“This conversation has turned indecent.” Rhaegar quickly picks up the harp, playing it, you notice the heat on his cheeks and smirk.

He pretends to not notice you crawl slightly towards him, playing his harp.

“What crown prince would ever be caught reading naughty tales of a wench covered in flowers,”

Rhaegar’s hand shakes, and the harp’s tune wavers. You reach his shoulder and slightly move the long hair behind his ear as you whisper.

“as she gets deflowered by a dashing Essosi sailor-“

His breath hitches.

“How unbecoming of a noble to read such a debauched work.”

“Y-you.”

His indigo eyes are so beautiful as they lace in fear and arousal.

“Tell me, which one did you imagine yourself as? The sailor?” You hook your finger on the collar of his tunic.

Rhaegar shakes quietly, his harp sounding like a cacophony of nerves. You admire the small braids in his hair. He’s inlaid them with ruby pins.

“Or perhaps, the wench?” You whisper, putting his harp away.

He starts, your name, leaving his lips as he sighs.

You crawl on top of him, straddling his lap, smiling sweetly.

“Hmm?”

You don’t wait for him to reply, tilting your head to meet your lips against his plush ones.

Rhaegar is on fire. you are certain, His blood heats up at your touch as you sense him descend further and further into the kiss. He’s so open, desperate, and wanting. His red and black robes bristle and rustle against the grass as he moans out and squirms. You press down further as his hands find your waist.

He’s a sight, red flushed against his pale skin, indigo eyes staring at you, mesmerized, and glossy-lipped. The forest behind him. From this angle, he looks every bit of a wench from the novels you have seen him read in his chambers in privacy.

You rock your hips, and he groans. The fabric creates a barrier that somehow intensifies the pleasure rather than inhibiting it.

“You even moan like one.” You open button down his tunic and toss out his robes. The sunlight kissing his pale skin, you watch the flush travel to his lithe chest.

Hands travel down his naked body, your digits toying with his nipples. They look so supple, hard, and slightly puffed. A wicked idea takes over you.

“How does it feel?” gently squeezing his nipple.

Rhaegar throws his head back. “Tickles.”

“Ah,t.” He groans as you rub circles gently with both of your hands on each nipple.

He bucks his hips up.

“Ah…”

“Sensitive?’

He moans.

“Want me to continue?”

He stutters out a barely coherent, please.

You take him in your mouth. The foreign feel of his soft, round nipples gives you pleasure as you suckle them, quietly flicking.

Rhaegar has stilled, only gasps of his breath reverberate in the forest.

You stay attacking his chest, languid as your tongue latches on him, messy and mean in its sucking. Payback for what he does to you.

His hand reaches your back, digging into your hips as he mewls loudly, unable to stop as you rock your hips against his while playing with his chest.

“Please, please.” His repeats your name like a prayer. Bucking his hips up like an animal in heat.

“If you had a cunt and a womb, I promise you, you would’ve never walked a day without it being swollen.” Rhaegar nods, fervent.

“N-never, I would-“

“Do you wish it?” Your movements become quicker, the squelching noises sending pleasure down your spine.

“I do, gods, I would carry, I would-“

“How many?”

“As many- until I”

“Until your feet hurt and you stay debauched, swollen, and needy for me, every night?”

You see tears prick rhaegar’s eyes, he’s close.

“I’d never let you touch the moon tea. Ever.”

“N-never.”  He groans as you halt your movement.

“Off.” You command, referencing his breeches.

He complies quickly, sitting up to kiss you as his cock springs out.

You smirk at the length, the rosy color making it look almost endearing.

“Might wear robes of this color tomorrow.”

Despite his arousal, rhaegar manages to smile.

“I’d be most pleased to see it.”

Touching his chin, “filthy.” You remark.

“Let me touch you.”

“Not today.”

Rhaegar frowns.

“Why?”

“Today I wish to ride.”

He gasps as you toss him down to the grass. His naked body, covered his bruises, shivering slightly at the contact.

“Then so be it.” He whispers to no one.

You quickly rid yourself of your small clothes, making sure you remain nude as well, and straddle him, sinking down and groaning, both of you turning blank at the pleasure that overtakes.

“Fucking hell.”

“Move....” Rhaegar has his hand over his eyes, his other hand between his lips, he’s red like a cherry, and the sun makes the sweat on his body shimmer like gold as he shakes and quivers with every move you make on top of him.

You grab both of his hands and place it next to his head, lacing your fingers together as you tilt towards him, your breasts swollen and stopping just by his lips.

“Suck.” You instruct, and descend your breast into his mouth. Eyes rolling back at the heat that engulfs your nipple, your movements turning animalistic.

Heaven was so hot it felt like the flames of hell. As if the fourteen flames have bloomed within you. The heat of the sun, his mouth, his cock, your cunt. The sweet music of your moans intermixing, it was too much, too fucking much.

Your knees buckled after a few moments and Rhaegar sat up immediately, holding you and kissing you mercilessly as you rode him in his lap, almost growling and tearing into his hair, ruffling it up and scratching his back with your other hand at the feeling of his hands all over you, pressing down at your belly.

With a loud moan and a whimper, the two of you collided and met your high, stilling amidst your kiss as you felt each other release in each other, quietly mumbling each other’s names.

You felt him drip down your legs. Soaking in the pleasure, you open your eyes to see him and gasp at the beauty that is Rhaegar Targaryen. His eyes were blown wide open, pretty white lashes and red face, messy hair, and his pouty lips, begging to kiss you more and more.

The two of you just looked at each other, and then, a chuckle left you at the same time.

“We are animals.” He starts as he lies down, with you climbing on his chest.

“Indeed. Two pretty animals mating in the wild.” You begin putting flowers in his hair. daffodils, forget-me-nots, heliotropes, and tulips.

He hums.

“No one else I’d rather mate with.”

“Not even your harp?”

He laughs.

“The poor thing’s probably traumatized by now, the things we do, the filth we speak.” He glances at the harp resting quietly below the tree, long forgotten.

“Rhae?”

“Hmm?”

“Pick up some tansy when we leave, I need to brew the tea.”

He blushes furiously, nodding as the breeze picks up.

[imaginesinthewind]

Blood of my blood

Pairing: Jon Snow x f!reader

Summary: The night before the Battle of Bastards, promises are exchanged between Jon and you. Inspired by an Outlander quote from Jamie Fraser. If you recognize it, you earn a cookie.

A/N: A small fluffy Jon Snow drabble, because I can't sleep. Very tooth-rotting romantic. You are warned.

"Where were you? I looked for you, over there."

You would have recognised that voice anywhere. Raspy, soft, deep. And low.

The cold was biting your cheeks, causing them to turn more pink than usual. As the last men were exiting Jon's tent, where the last war council was held, you realised that you had been standing there for way too long, staring into the nothingness, ghosts dancing across your eyes.

You slowly turned around to face Jon. His black curls were held backwards, making him look more and more like his father; not only in looks, but also in attitude. He looked tired, and worried. But a cold determination was glowing in his gaze.

His arms slowly came to surround you, pulling you towards him and his comforting figure. And suddenly, it seemed that the ghosts you were facing silently faded away.

"You're worried," Jon noticed.

A small sigh escaped your lips, and your hands came to rest on his shoulders, playing with edges of his armour.

"I only just got you back," you whispered, avoiding his eyes. "And... I mean, if anything were to happen--"

"(Y/N)", Jon cut you off.

A callous hand lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"You don't need to worry yourself sick about me. I've been through way, way worse."

The hint of a smile danced across his features.

"I will always come back. You should know that by now. Plus, there is only one thing you need to worry about."

One of his hands softly caressed your baby bump, almost invisible to the naked eye. You had told Jon a few days ago; and now, more than ever, it was like his actions to take back Winterfell from Ramsay had some kind of undergoing urgency.

He held you closer to him, and your head came to rest on his chest. You remained there for a few seconds, content in his embrace, breathing slowly.

"Promise me," you finally whispered. "Promise me that you will come back to me."

There was a moment of silence. But then, Jon pulled you away from him. His face looked serious and soft at the same time as he looked at you; like you were the moon of his life. The one and only thing that made sense.

"I can do better than that, love."

His harsh northern accent contrasted with the softness of his voice.

You frowned, and watched in disbelief as Jon suddenly got on one knee.

"Jon," you began, but he cut you off again.

"No, (Y/N). Let me do this, once and for all."

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. Suddenly, Jon, your childhood love, the one you had lost and found again, looked desperate.

"I don't have anything to offer you, (Y/N). I have no lands, no titles. But I know this. When I'm with you, I am no longer this commander everyone expects me to be. I am just a boy in love, all over again."

Jon stood up again, and grabbed both of your hands.

"You are the blood of my blood, bone of my bone. I gave you my body and you gave me yours, so that we could become one. So, please. If I win this, be mine. Marry me."

Your heart grew bigger in your chest, as if it was about to burst. Burst for this sweet and devoted man in front of you.

Your vision blurried, and you nearly threw yourself in his arms.

"Oh, Jon..."

You closed your eyes and held him tight.

"You are worth all of these things, and more even. I love you. Yes, I will marry you."

Ramsay Bolton would not live to see another night on this earth.

Somewhere in the dead of night, Jon made an oath to himself.

[insomniakisses]

Her Little Stark

Character: Cersei Lannister (GOT)

Requested?: Yes

Warnings/Notes: 18+ Content, MINORS DNI, Omegaverse universe, slightly au timeline / events. Tommen and Joffrey r both killed before the wedding, Tywin is the hand of queen Cersei.

You knew it was wrong. Oh how wrong and corrupt it was, the thoughts that flooded your mind about her. Cersei Lannister the queen herself. Your captor, a woman belonging to the family that had torn yours apart and killed multiple of the people you loves. And yet you cant help the throbbing between your legs whenever you see her.

You blamed her, for the way she released her scent around you or for how she always seemed to press her bulge into you as she walked past. The lingering looks and the way shed lean to whisper ungodly vulgar things into your ear about everything she wanted to do with you. It was all too much and had you head over heels for her, weather it was love or lust you weren't sure. 

Today like no other you awoke to her shooing out your hand maiden demanding that she tend to your sister instead. Shooting her a look she left without complaint, leaving you staring up at your queen she smiles and reaches her hand out indication for you to take it.

She leads you to the next room, where a the tub is filled with bot water and there's an array of expensive soaps on a table beside it. You turn to her about to protest but she's already ridding you of your night dress, she chuckles almost meanly when you gasp at her palming your ass. Pushing her off and sinking into the tub as a way to hide your naked form from her. 

She pays no mind however, sauntering over and sinking to the floor by the tub grabbing the soup she likes the scent of best before dipping it into the tub by you leg. Now wet she glides it across your skin, smiling to herself when you relax and allow her access to your body. 

Your calmness fades when you here a quiet “oops” next to your ear, acting as if she had accidentally dropped the bar of soap that had landed by your leg. She acts as if she is about to reach it and you relax slightly, hoping you had simply misjudged her actions letting your eyes close again when you feel her bring her hand back up. 

Its only when you feel her fingers rub at your clit that you jolt, attempting to push her off but she simply shushes you, kissing at your neck as her other hand moves to your breasts squeezing and tugging at them as she wishes. 

“Its alright my little wolf,” kissing along your neck she moves to nip at your back and shoulders making sure all the marks can be coverable as she relishes in your soft gasps and whines your resolve disappearing as you let her have her way with you. Feeling her push two fingers into you, you cant help lean further into her hold allowing her mouth more area to kiss and mark. 

“Quiet now, wouldn't want anyone to hear you sinful little mouth would you, hmm?” she hums against your neck as you plea for your release, which she gladly gives you capturing your lips with her own to silence your moans. 

She smiles at your wide eyes when she pulls away, simply continuing to bathe you as if she hadn’t jus touched you in such a sinful way. She helps you dry off and dress, placing soft kisses along your bare skin as she does so, reminding you of how fond she is of her good little wolf and how soon she will have you as her little wife all hers to ruin and fill with her lion cubs. 

Now dressed, you feel her arms wrap around you that sweet soft Cersei only you get to see resting against you. “You okay?” she chuckles bitterly the anger returning “I keep you captive here, Your family slaughtered by my own, Your sister tortured by my late son her previously betrothed and both of you needlessly reminded of your own fathers death by my father yet you ask me if I am okay?” She turns you to face her before sinking to her knees in front of you, face resting against your stomach. “Gods I don't deserve you”

Your silent then, hand running through her hair as she holds you to her burying her face deeper into your dress. “I'm sorry I shouldn't have brought it up-” you cut her off by kneeling next to her placing a soft kiss to her own lips. “Its okay” you whisper softly wiping away her tears when you here a knock at the door and are both notified of the council meeting Cersei is to attend immediately. 

That night you return to your champers to find a note from Cersei, a request that you should go to her chambers tonight. You knew the connotations if you where to accept she means to bed you, clearly having settled the arrangement that you are to marry her and now needing to begin making heirs for her throne having non as it stands now. 

You make quick work of undressing, wrapping one of your cloaks around your bare form and heading to her champers. When you enter you are greeted with the sight of her naked form laying atop the grand rug by her bed. Her hand stroking her cock gently, hand speeding up once she realises your there.

You body moves of its own accord and you find yourself kneeling against her, watching her hand glide up and down before she speaks, “Go on. Suck.”

Your cheeks flush as you move to take the tip into you mouth sucking gently and moaning at the salty taste of her pre-cum. Moving her hand to your hair she pushes you further down, her cock being forced down your throat as she groans. She holds you there while you gag, until you slap at her thigh to let go. 

She growls at you, pulling you on top of her as her hand wraps around your throat. You whine in protest when you feel her tip brush against your hole almost slipping in, not wanting your first time to be forceful. As if sensing this she releases your neck, moving her hands to your thighs thumbs brushing the skin gently.

“Now, are you going to behave or act like a spoilt slut?” she taunts moving you against her cock moaning at your wetness coating her cock. “Behave” you whimper and she smirks, nodding in approval as she pulls you into a kiss as she pushes into you softly. 

She swallows your moans, guiding you along her cock in a soft pace allowing you to get used to her cock. You surprise her when you grab her hands, pinning her hands above her head and moving to kiss at her neck. You pick up the speed of your hips, bouncing on her cock fast and hard. 

A soft gasp escapes her when your lips reach her jaw, cock twitching rapidly and a gush of cum filling landing on your ass when u pull off of her jus before she cums. She groans and thrashes under you in protest as you smirk, “Think i found your weakness baby” you coo in faux sympathy.

Reaching behind you you sink back onto her cock, the tip red and throbbing from her ruined orgasm she groans moving to push you off but you simply grab her face pulling her into a kiss as you you ride her.

You smirk against her lips when she begins cumming again, going to pull off of her once more but she growls deep. Flipping you into a mating press with ease, satisfied smirk on her face as you try and fail to regain control.

“Now you said you would behave, and while i would love to let you have your fun i can’t very well put a baby in you when you wont take my cum” she nips your neck then, placing a kiss on it before biting there again deeper, mate marking you as hers.

She uses this as a distraction to fuck you properly, hard fast thrusts as she nears her next orgasm keeping this pace until her cock shoots hot cum deep into you. She pushes her knot in then her tip kissing your cervix as it shoots her load. Your walls milking her as your orgasm takes over once more.

Your both breathing heavily when she rolls onto her back bringing u with her so your laying on her front her arm rubbing your back. Kissing her neck you smile against her calling her your soft golden lion feeling her start rumbling in response eliciting soft purrs from you.

[justanoasisimagines]

Fluff Alphabet - Jaime Lannister

Warnings; A/N; Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner and the divider

A = Affection - How afectionate are they? Do they like recieving affection etc?

Jaime is moderately affectionate. He hasn't been show how to be affectionate by his father. Jaime actively tries to be more affectionate with you. Men are not judged by their words but by their actions. Jaime doesn't believe your relationship should be any different.

B = Bathing - Do they like to bathe or shower alone? What's it like to share a bath or shower with him?

Jaime is moderately affectionate. He hasn't been show how to be affectionate by his father. Jaime actively tries to be more affectionate with you. Men are not judged by their words but by their actions. Jaime doesn't believe your relationship should be any different. C = Cooking - Can they cook? Do they like to cook? Would they cook for you? What type of dishes would they like to cook? Jaime can't cook. He's had every meal prepared for him his entire life. Even if he wanted to cook for you, he would have no idea where to start. He wouldn't know how to prepare or cook something until it was edible. Would he learn how to cook if you offered to teach him? Absolutely.

D = Dates - What type of dates would they like to go on? Do they like to plan dates? Be taken on dates? How frequently is date night? etc Dates are not frequent with Jaime. Both of you are always so busy. However, when Jaime does surprise you with tea in the gardens or dinner within your chambers away from everyone's prying eyes. Jaime would also take you horseriding, either separately or sharing. E = Effort - How much effort do they put in? How do they show their efforts? Are they either an all out or all in kind of person? Jaime would put everything into the union. He's never going to do anything without putting one hundred percent into things. Jaime would be devoted to getting to know you. He'd be supportive during social events. He would defend you in front of his family. Jaime would shower you with gifts and pleasantries. F = Family - Do they want to have children? What would family life look like? How many children do they want? etc? Jaime must have legitimate children to continue his family's legacy. However, Jaime does want to be a father. He wants to have a family so he can raise his children the way he sees fit. Jaime would be a more attentive and tolerant parent. He'd pay attention to his children's interests. He would remind his children frequently how loved they are. G = Gentleman/Lady - How much of a gentleman/lady would they be? Would they hold out doors for you? Pull out your chair? Walk on the road side? etc

Jaime is every aspect of a gentleman. He's from a noble family. He's been taught how to behave respectfully. He will put out your chair for you. He does enter rooms before you searching for any dangers. He offers his cloak to you when it's cold. If he has to travel then he will a token back for you to prove he's been thinking about you. H = Honeymoon - Where would they like to go on honeymoon? What would it look like? etc

You and Jaime would travel to Casterly Rock for your Honeymoon. Since Jaime is set to become Lord of Casterly Rock, it would give you time to familiarize yourself with your future home. Jaime would appreciate the time away and the opportunity alone time with you. You'd both spend the time enjoying the alone time. I = I love you - How long would it take them to fall in love with you? How would they confess? Is it a big deal to them etc?

It takes a while for Jaime to fall in love with you. However, when he realizes he loves you it's like a punch to the stomach. He doesn't look at you the same way again after that. He doesn't tell you straight away. He allows himself to be consumed by this new revelation. He eventually tells you and it's spontaneous. When you're doing something nonchalant. J = Jealously - How easily do they get jealous? What makes them jealous? How do they react when your jealous? etc,

Jaime gets jealous easily. He doesn't appreciate someone being brazen to believe they could be a better suitor for you. Jaime is always clipped with his words, his tone neutral yet threatening. Jaime is very good at being threatening while appearing calm. When you're jealous Jaime's smug because he loves seeing you get as petty as him.

K = Kisses - What kisses are they more likely to give? What kisses do they like to recieve? etc

Giving; Morning kisses, loving kisses, against the wall kisses, forehead kisses, come to bed kisses.

Recieving; Neck kisses, cheek kisses, good night kisses, giggly kisses. L = Love Language - What's their love language(s)? What languages are they most receptive to?

Jaime's love languages are words of affirmation and gift-giving. He's going to shower you with compliments, terms of endearment and countless gifts especially when you're courting. As far as receiving, Jaime would prefer receiving actions rather than words. So his love languages would be Acts of service, quality time and physical touch would be those he's most receptive to. He wants your words to be backed up with action.

M = Marriage - Do they want to get married? What would being married to them look like? Do they want a large or small wedding? etc

Marriage is often a duty rather than a want. He's the eldest son, so he's expected to continue on the Lannister line. When Jaime did get married Tywin would create a massive event. Tywin uses it to reinforce the power of his house. When Jaime falls in love, however, he would want to get married for the right reasons. N = Nicknames - What nicknames would they use for you? Do you give any to them? You; Darling, Love, Beautiful, Sweetheart, Husband/Wife

Him; Love, My Lion, My Knight/Husband

O = Obvious - How obvious are they? What gives them away? Their face or actions?

Jaime is extremely difficult to read. His face nor his actions give him away. He struggles to process his feelings because he hasn't had feelings for anyone before. When he realizes, however, he's a softer more nervous version of himself. Soon enough he's going to start showering you with compliments and actively seeking you out.

P = Public Displays of Affection - Do they enjoy PDA? How comfotable are they with PDA?

Jaime isn't overly affectionate in public. He's cautious of treading the fine line. He doesn't want anyone gossiping about you, two being inappropriate. Jaime's not worried about himself. He can handle what the court says about him. However, he does worry about you.

Q = Quality Time - How do they like to spend quality time with you? How do they make time? Can they communicate effectively when they need quality time with you?

Jaime loves to spend time with you in your shared chambers away from everything and everyone. He also loves taking walks with you in the gardens. Jaime makes time with you by putting his foot down. He'll decline duties if he's been too busy as of late. His duty as a husband is just as important to him. When Jaime wants to spend time with you, he'll simply have you excused from your duties. R = Romantic - Do they consider themselves romantic?

Jaime considers himself a romantic. He knows how to flatter and compliment a lady. He knows how to make them feel special. Jaime also understands sometimes it's not the grand gestures, but small things. Showering you with affection. Buying you something they've mentioned in passing; shows he's been listening.

S = Security - Do they feel secure in your relationship? What would they do if they didn't feel secure?

Jaime does feel secure because he has to be able to trust the person he's with. He cannot have doubts about the person he's with. If he didn't feel secure, Jaime would pull back from them. he wouldn't confide his feelings or what was going on. He'd eventually let things reach boiling point before confronting them.

T = Tease - Do they like to tease you? If so, how?

Sometimes, while Jaime has to be serious the majority of the time, he'll occasionally let his hair down. He'll playfully pick you up and spin you about. He'll playfully creep up behind you to scare you. Sometimes Jaime will engage in some flirtatious banter with you. It's always light and Jaime prefers to do it in private.

U = Umbrella - Would they hold an umbrella for you? Would they kiss you in the rain? Dance with you in the rain?

It doesn't rain in Kingslanding, however, if it did Jaime would hold an umbrella out for you. Jaime would prioritize you with the umbrella over himself. On the odd occasion Jaime was feeling playful, Jaime would kiss you in the rain. When lost in the moment, Jaime would kiss you once and then twice and so forth.

V = Vanity - How do they see themselves? Positively or negatively? What's their favourite part of their body etc?

Jaime sees himself positively before the loss of his hand. Afterward, however, it takes him a minute to find his confidence again. When he does it's less arrogance and more self-belief. Even on the days he's not feeling confident, you wouldn't be able to tell. He's built up a facade to make his true intentions in court. His favourite body part is defnitely his face.

W = Whole - When you're apart do they feel like part of them is missing? How do they deal with being apart from you?

The longer you're together, the more Jaime despises being apart from you. Primarily due to Jaime preferring to spend time with someone who hasn't got ulterior motives. Jaime would write you letters every couple of days while he was away. Even if you don't get them all at once. Jaime will also take a piece of your clothing so he can have the familiar smell with him.

X = Xtra - An extra headcanon

Jaime is fiercely protective over you. Especially over his own family. He doesn't want to hear their criticisms. He doesn't want you brought into their scheming. Jaime will go against his family for you. He might not have done enough to have to achieve his Father's approval but he refuses to let them break you down. Y = You - What do you they like most about you? Favourite body part etc?

Jaime adores your resilience. Being in Kingslanding is not for the faint of heart. However, Jaime is in awe of how you navigate it with such grace. He loves the way you smile. It lights up his day, especially when it's towards him. His heart lights up.

Z = Zzzz - Sleeping headcanons

Jaime always sleeps closest to the door as a precaution to protect you. He prefers to sleep beside you. Either with his arm draped around you or you lying on his chest. Jaime likes seeing the sunrise over the two of you. It's his favorite way to start the day, waking up, knowing he has you by his side.

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine Alicent finally realizing what Otto did

Your hands were folded on your lap as you stared to the large doors of your throne room. Your butt sat upon a Throne which did not belong to you, but rather the niece of your husband, a girl who you basically raised with your sister once your mother, and her own passed. Her father to occupied with talks of succession and wars, and wild boar to notice the secret strings being pulled by your own father.

It was Daemon who told you of the raven sent by your sister, the widow of the king whom you had not spoken more than five words to since her wedding when you fled with Daemon and became his bride. While you spoke often with the other Targaryens, the Hightowers viewed you as the traitor of the family, a title given to you by your father, and believed without question by your sister, who was now in your home somewhere.

And just as the thought of the last conversation with her crossed your mind, the doors opened, and with a soft smile you saw your son, his hair shaggy like Jace’s and silver like his father’s. The gods had blessed you with your children all being alive and healthy, a smile slowly spreading as your eldest son looked to you, “Aunt Alicent has just arrived, she is alone, as she promised.”

“Not even Ser Criston is with her? Shocking, I thought she would have at least brought the man who has offered her pleasure all these years.”

“She must not feel she is in danger.” He spoke, his tone similar to his father’s as you chuckled, “She must not know your father then, as her recent decisions to disregard her late husband has sparked… danger for her.”

“Father will not harm her without your word.” He answered, “He may be rash but you know as well as I that he will never jeopardize his love for you.”

“Pār ziry iksos nykeā mittys.” (Then he is a fool). You stated as he looked to you but before he could defend the words of your father, your eyes caught sight of Green approaching.

“Henujagon īlva.” You instructed your son as he turned to the doors, but not before looking to his aunt and muttering, “Your highness.”

“You need not be so formal Rhovio.” Alicent spoke as he nodded, and proceeded to leave.

“I apologize for raising my children to respect the throne, and the members of royalty.” You replied as Alicent’s eyes slowly shifted to you.

“You never need to apologize to me sister. It is I who should be demanding your forgiveness.”

“Why?”

“Because I now see why father encouraged me to comfort Viserys. He did so to have his heirs take the iron throne, for he was a spider.”

“I warned you of that.” You replied

“And I didn’t listen, and because of that I seek your forgiveness.”

“Are you also to ask for Rhaenyra’s forgiveness? For not only have you stolen her throne but your son murdered hers, for those crimes sister demand your apologies far more than your inability to listen to your kin.” You snapped, your body slowly raising as you started down the steps towards her, “For when word came of your visit, my husband wanted to behead you, yet I told him you deserved a chance to right your wrongs and bend the knee to her, but I see now your too far gone into Father’s desires to rule the seven kingdoms to admit when you are wrong.”

“What happened to you?” Alicent whispered as your smile grew and a laugh left your mouth, “I saw through Father’s plan, that’s what. Now unless you are apologizing for your treason, I suggest you go back to King’s Landing, before I ride there upon my dragon and take the rightful throne of Rhaenyra myself.”

“My darling sister…” she whispered again, however you looked to her again, cutting her off, “Alicent.”

Her eyes watered, as your hand went to her face, her cheek cradled in your palm as her eyes closed, a single tear straying down her cheek as you wiped it with your thumb. Silence growing heavy as you looked upon the youngest Hightower in pity, and with longing, as you wished nothing more than to save her from your father. Finally though you were forced to break the silence, “Go sister. Be wise, and do not let the men of your court fool you anymore than they already have.”

—————

As she sailed away, you watched from the balcony, your eyes straining as you watched her ship slowly disappear into the horizon.

“Nyke ūndegon se dāria emagon geptot.” (I see the queen has left.) his voice low as his hand went to the small of your back, a shiver crawling up your spine as you whispered, “Ziry gōntan daor obūljagon.” (She did not bend the knee.”

“Ziry dōrī jāhor, ziry iksos stubborn raqagon zȳhon mandia, se blinded ondoso aōha kepa” (She never will, she is stubborn like her sister, and blinded by your father)

“Ziry eptan forgiveness.” (She asked forgiveness.) you whispered, before looking to him, “ Ziry ūndan otto syt se ēlī jēda se ñuhoso nyke gaomagon” (She saw Otto for the first time the way I do)

“Ao nūmāzma hae se power merbugon orvorta bona ziry iksos?” (You mean as the power hungry cunt that he is?) Daemon asked as you looked back to the sea

“Daor, ziry ūndan skorkydoso pathetic ziry iksos… se realized ziry iksos keskydoso.” (No, she saw how pathetic he is… and realized she is the same)

[thebadboyfanclub]

The Lover Of The Seven Kingdoms (Tywin x Reader)

First of all, I’m sorry but you cannot tell me anything when it comes to Tom hiddleston being the perfect young Tywin Lannister. Second, I love writing morally grey female characters and I wrote grant maester pycelle and mushroom in cause I wanted to show how a lot of male historians portray women in one way cause it’s just easier.

The lover of the seven Kingdoms” grant maester Pycelle had used as a description of (y/n) Martell, the second wife of Tywin Lannister, the symbol of femininity for a plethora of men in kings Landing, the mother of lord Ezra Lannister and lady Asena, the scandalous twins and one of the few bastards that later became legitimate and inherited Lannisport, then they had three more, lady Nymeria, Lady Zara and Lord Sorin, (y/n) was the secret passion of Tywin since she stepped foot at court, she was to be Joanna’s lady in waiting.

Her appearance was one carved by the Gods, long dark raven hair that curled down to her waist, olive skin, and almost black eyes, her lips thick, and a body as juicy as the fruits of her land, her twin brother Dorian had sent her to Kings landing as a way to show respect and also expand her horizons.

“Princess (Y/n) had relations with one of the bastards of house Dayne when she denied him the man gutted himself in front of her, Doran sends her away to avoid more scandals caused by her lustful appetite”

Mushroom note, Joanna liked her, she was smart and endearing, and she knew how to play her part, however, what Joanna had not taken in mind is that (y/n) stopped at nothing to get what she wants, in this case, it was the young Tywin Lannister, the tall man with muscles everywhere, blue eyes and blonde hair was the subject of desire for a plethora of ladies, none of them had the guts to go after him, (y/n) was not like them, she had her eyes set and the game had begun.

“My lord”

(Y/n) called for Tywin, the hour was quite late but Tywin was the hand of the king, the hour did not matter when they were things he needed to pay attention to, papers to be signed and payments to be settled.

(Y/n) had studied his schedule, Joanna was already in bed and Tywin was free, most of the servants were dismissed so they were no prowling eyes to catch her.

Tywin halted and turned to look at the girl that called for him, she wore a rather sheer dress which was unlikely of hers, Dornish people were always costumed to very light choices in clothing, still, this was a step further, if the candles burned a bit brighter Tywin would have been able to see… well everything.

“Princess (y/n), is there something wrong?”

“No, not exactly, I was hoping to talk to you, in private”

Tywin hesitated, (y/n) was just outside her chamber, she was holding the door open which meant that her choice of privacy was her room, still, curiosity about what it could be that needed to be discussed in such a secretive way was enough for his feet to go one and then the other inside.

(Y/n) closed the door before she spun to rest her back on the wood, a smirk playing on her lips as her plan was going smoother than she expected, the room was decorated in cherry red and gold colors, some orange as well and the intense smell of vanilla and musk took over Tywins senses.

“So, I would prefer it if you started talking”

“Do you like being the hand of the king?”

“You summoned me to ask me if you like my occupation?”

“No, I summoned you because I have a pair of eyes, eyes clear enough to see that something has been bothering you”

“Well I am flattered that the princess cares to ask for my well-being, however, I must go”

“You can’t lie to me Tywin, if it’s not your duty then it has something to do with me, you have been avoiding me, you can’t even look me in the eye”

Tywin once again chose to not speak he only made a b line for the door to which (y/n) was resting, she had managed to think of everything down to reaching for the handle when he did, making their hands touch, Tywin did not pull his away, he let it rest on top of hers as he towered over her and she looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Is it me, my lord? It is my presence that is bothering you?”

“No”

“No? You are breathing quite heavily, your eyes travel below my lips, and… dare I say you could have moved me if you truly wanted to, no one is here, my lord, you can confess to me”

“(Y/n)-“

“Go on, confess”

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she gawked at Tywin with lustful eyes with a hint of innocence, she had done this before, Tywin was a mere puppet, a bug that got caught in the spiders' web and was now waiting to experience her poisonous bite.

Her kiss could be described as venom, it made his entire body feel like it was burning and her touch was the only remedy, his addiction started and ended with her, he had been fantasizing about her every night, haunting him like a succubus and stealing the life out of him, at an instant he forgot everything, his wife, his status, his entire life would crumble if someone were to find them, none of it mattered, all that he cared about was to see her, take her.

He took her right on her window, some servants had even reported that they could see the young princess bareback as her moans grew some attention, alas none of them thought something of it, most of the castle had seen a generous amount of men go in and out of (y/n)s chamber at all hours of the night.

Tywin was in utter awe with (y/n), he almost felt like he would faint as he reached his high, it was the only time Tywin considered that (y/n) was a practitioner of dark magic. No other woman had held such power over him in this act.

“My lion”

She had whispered in his ear before she kissed him,(Y/n) was the perfect lover, every night he would slip from his chamber and knock on her door, she would be waiting for him, take him up to the sky, and wrap him with her fire that burned as bright as dragon fire.

Tywin was entirely himself around her, she allowed him to be in control and gave him the euphoric theatrics of prowling on her, which made (y/n) giggle a little, it was refreshing and borderline hilarious to move the strings in the background while Tywin thought he was moving them only because she let him touch them.

“I have exciting news”

“Which is?”

“Princess (y/n) is pregnant, how lovely would it be if we get to marry our children? We could secure Dorne and bind my friendship with her”

“We will do no such thing”

“Tywin, think about it if we-“

“You are forgetting an important thing Joanna, the princess is not married, who knows who the father of that bastard is, my child will not marry anyone of such low status”

What else could he have said? We can’t marry them cause they are siblings? Joanna would be crushed, Tywin had run to her chamber that night, not even bothering to knock as he burst into the room startling her, still once she laid her eyes on him she smiled, she dared to smile as if nothing has happened.

“How dare you announce your pregnancy without even telling me first”

“I thought you had noticed”

“No, I hadn’t and Joanna wants to marry your child with one of our children”

“I am sure we will find a way around it”

“Find a way around it? How are you so calm when the world is crumbling on your feet? You are not married nor betrothed, this child will be declared a bastard”

“This child will be my firstborn, a child created by you and me if you remember, that is all that matters to me”

“Not to the rest of the realm”

“I do not care about the rest of the realm Tywin, that is your problem, it will be royalty in Dorne, I do not care what they call my child here”

“Some said she bathed in goats blood every full moon, she would burn candles and speak in foreign languages to make Tywin stay by her side”

Mushroom claimed, it could be true or just whispers since no one understood the powerful hold that she had on the young lord, Tywin was a fearsome man, calculated and ambitious, yet (y/n) could sway him in any direction she wished with a bat of an eyelash.

It was such a peculiar moment, (y/n) gave birth to twins four moons after her lady Joanna, Ezra and Asena, both of them had their fathers' eyes, sapphires that shined in the light of the sun as (y/n) fed them from her breasts, Tywin had held Asena first, she looked nothing like Cersei still something in him knew that the two girls were born to be each others nemesis, fate had played him like a fiddle.

“I was thinking of going back to Dorne”

“Why?”

“My brother said it is not safe for us, people will talk and I do not want my children to grow up in a venomous environment”

“No, no you will stay, Ezra and Asena Hill has a nice ring to it”

“They are Martells, my love, they shall be called that”

(Y/n) was not ashamed of her children, on the contrary, she adored them and kept them by her side at all times, she taught them how to walk, talk, sing, and dance, a endearing mother with a backbone made of Valyrian steel, a combination made straight out of the seven rings of hell.

“Push, my lady”

“I can’t, (y/n) please make it stop”

“Maester, what is taking so long?”

“The babe has breached, it will not let me pull it out”

“It hurts (y/n)”

“I know, my lady, just one more push”

Joanna fought tooth and nail to survive, unfortunately, her labor did not harvest any fruit for her, the son survived but Lady Joanna did not even get to hold him, grant Maester pycelle held Tyrion and presented him to lord Tywin who was utterly disgusted by the ugly creature.

“That is no son of mine, throw him in the river”

“You will do no such thing”

“This matter does not concern you, princess”

“It does, you may be excused maester”

Pycelle only nodded and left them alone, a strange aura surrounded both of them, Joanna was gone, a deformed babe had taken her life, and (y/n)s belly was ready to pop any minute, what was to be done now?

“Does cruelty excite you?”

“Cersei and Jaime are both healthy and Lannister featured, that… thing could not have been created by me”

“It was not the babes' fault, so I have to remind you that you are also guilty of the thing you are accusing a dead woman of?”

Tywin was a man but that meant little to nothing, if Tyrion was a bastard then there was no difference between him and (y/n)s children, Tywin was in no place to frown upon such an act since he was having another child on the way, a bastard.

“Listen to me, my love, I know you loved Joanna and I loved her too, but the babe survived, it’s the last thing we have from her, grief is a strong emotion, but we have each other to lean on, don’t you want this for us Tywin? for me?”

There it was, her secret weapon, that sweet voice that dripped of honey and the big doe eyes, she knew how to play the damsel in distress down to every detail, Tywin put his lips in before he shook his head in defeat, his wife had departed but his mistress stood before him, demanding a place at his table and life, which he was willing to give her.

-

Cersei was frantic, the announcement of her father's betrothal to the princess (y/n) and the reaffirmation of her bastard children had brought her to an utmost stage of rage that she was going around her room like a hurricane, she was throwing things and cursing as loud as her lungs allowed it.

How could he do this to her? To her family? That woman had slithered her way into their life like a snake and was now feasting over her mother's dead body, this was just plain disrespectful to her mother.

Tywin found Cerseis handmaidens outside her chamber as the sounds that came from it could put to shame any wild animal, the ladies looked frightened and not one of them dared to go in, however, all of them tried to warn him in leaving the lady be, suggesting that this has probably happened before.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Get out”

“Young lady I advise you-“

“Shut up! I don’t want to listen to you! How could you marry her?! How could you do this to my mother?”

That was the last thing she said before a harsh slap landed on Cerseis's cheek, the girl was taken back by the act since her father had never hit her, he would discipline her but mostly by raising his voice or finding peculiar tricks of punishment, for Tywin to get physical with his daughter meant that she had gone too far.

“You do not get to judge my decisions, you will welcome your brother and sisters and you will be nice to my wife whether you like it or not, did I make myself clear?”

Silence only looks that could kill were exchanged

“Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes Father”

“My love?”

(Y/n) walked into the room, she had heard everything although she chose to reside in the act of being clueless, Tywin had turned away from his daughter and walked to his soon-to-be wife’s side, his hand found hers and brought it up to his lips, (y/n) smiled fondly before she scanned the room with her eyes, a puzzled look on her face as the room was upside down.

“What has happened? Is the young lady alright? The handmaidens were stuttering when I asked about the noises”

“Yes, no need to worry, my dear, Cersei was just redecorating”

“Oh, well if she wishes I can help with that”

“No, no, Cersei is quite specific, she prefers doing things her way, hence this scenery, we should live her”

“As the young lioness wishes, but before we leave”

(Y/n) took a few steps so she can stand ahead of Cersei, Cersei truly felt like a lioness, one that was trapped in a cage to be exact, as much as Cersei wanted to believe she could outsmart anyone (y/n) had years up on the horse, so naturally she was now trotting past Cersei with her caring smile and eyes that lit up, Cersei was left to looking like a kid that threw a tantrum whilst (y/n) looked like a mother that did her best to keep the peace.

“I know you are angry at me, I would be too, I will not try to be your mother, I do however hope that one day you will view me as your ally or your friend even”

(Y/n) went to caress Cerseis cheek which Cersei flinched away from that earned her a cold hard stare from her father, (y/n) only bit her lip in defeat, then it was replaced by a smile of hope, (y/n) genuinely wanted things to go as smooth as possible, to keep all of Joanna's children close to her, it was the least she could do she wasn’t a complete monster, as much as Cersei liked to think of her as one.

“Perhaps it’s too soon, I am asking way too much of you, I hope you have a great day, sweetling”

“Put everything back in its place, now”

Tywin instructed in a stern voice before they exited the chamber that Hurricane Cersei was occupying, Tywin was sure that she would throw something at the door once it was closed and he stood correct when a loud bang was heard.

“She is a young girl that lost her mother, having an attitude with me is inevitable”

“Cersei is not a normal young girl, she has a superiority complex over everyone, our children will not interact with her yet”

“That won’t be a problem, Asena is not… fond of Cersei either”

“I wonder why, let us not think of Cersei right now, it is time for Nymeria to be fed”

“See how beautiful it sounds when it rolls off the tongue? And you wanted to name her Lydia”

Since this babe was the first legitimate child of Tywin and (y/n) he had the suggestion of picking the name of the beloved girl, on the contrary (y/n) was not budging, she was adamant on naming her daughter after the biggest warrior queen Dorne has ever known, her precious Nymeria.

“The princess never wanted to marry lord Tywin, she was far more interested in keeping their relationship private, howbeit Lord Tywin was too consumed by his emotions for her to consider the fact that the princess could have been wed, she simply chose not to”

Grant maester Pycelle added when asked about their wedding. (Y/n) did not care about her children being legitimate or owning land, Dorne was her home, her brother had congratulated her on the birth of her twins and even offered to have them in Dorne, and her family was delighted by (y/n) bringing forth new heirs for the Martells, it was only Tywin that wanted to make it official, to let everyone know that the princess was now cloaked by the lion, her life as the lady of the rock had begun and Dorne had entered a land that they never really thought of earning.

“In a day you will be my wife, therefore, my children’s good mother, I expect them to treat you as such”

“I do not, Tywin they are in mourning, you cannot expect them to make it easy for me”

“I am not dimly witted my dearest, I know they will have some thoughts over our marriage, albeit I will make sure they keep it to themselves”

Requests are open!

[francis-writes]

Could you do a modern NSFW oneshot for Ramsey x reader where the reader and Ramsey are having an Argument in a car which somehow leads to Ramsey pulling over somewhere and the two of them end up having hate sex in the car?

A/N: i will someday finish it... perhaps.

Also sorry that i am not so active recently. I spend almost whole days on the university and I also joined local anarchist collective. Anyway. There's a lot going on.

"Don't be such a bitch"

"A bitch? I just wanted to know who's the girl that you spent the whole evening with. That makes me a bitch?"

"Can't I even talk with someone without your permission?" Ramsay raised his voice, visibly irritated. You were coming back from a party in friend's house. After you went to the kitchen, you couldn't see your boyfriend until you found him sitting on a couch with a stranger girl. It wouldn't be such a problem but they seemed to be unsettlingly close. You tried to find out something after the party but Ramsay wasn't eager to satisfy your curiosity.

"You can but that girl was definitely flirting with you. And you looked as if you wanted to get into her pants as well"

"Maybe I wanted to" he snorted "But I didn't. I don't fuck anyone behind your back so stop being so suspecting"

Sure, for now Ramsay didn't give you any reasons to worry. You didn't have any proofs for his infidelity, even though he was a hedonist and you knew that before meeting you, he had many lovers. Still... this  evening left you in a bad mood and you couldn't forget it.

"If you cheated on me, why would you tell me about that?" You shrugged. To be honest, you didn't want to argue but something was pushing you to defend your earlier anger.

Ramsay growled something under his breath and made a quick move with steering wheel. Fortunately, the road was empty at this hour but driving with Ramsay was usually an exciting experience - the same way rollercoaster is exciting when your heart stops for a moment and you wonder if you're gonna survive this.

"What are you doing?!"

Ramsay stopped the car on the roadside.

"We need to talk, but if you kept screaming at me while I was driving, there would be an accident"

"I wasn't screaming" you said a bit quieter than before, feeling some remorse for your (perhaps) unjustified anger.

Ramsay grabbed  your shirt and pulled you closer, so you could feel his warm breath on your face.

"You were. For no goddamn reason. I am starting to regret that I didn't fuck this girl, at least you would have a reason to make a scene"

Without a second thought, you slapped him. He looked at you with anger, maybe surprise in his eyes, and he grabbed your throat, squeezing it slightly so you barely could breathe.

You felt a mix of emotions, anger and fear were battling in you for domination. But there was also... excitement? You felt familiar wetness between your legs. Oh, as usual you couldn't decide whether you would rather kill Ramsay or fuck him.

"Maybe..." you tried to form a sentence despite lacking air "we should...move...to the back seats"

Ramsay raised his eyebrow and smirked. He let go of your throat so you could take a deep breath with relief.

"For what?"

"It would be easier to... discuss there"

He nodded, still with a sarcastic grin on his face, and moved to the back seats.

You just closed the door when Ramsay pulled you to himself and started kissing you, sneaking his hand under your shirt. His warm, calloused fingers wandered across your skin. The experience was pleasant and you usually relaxed under his touch but this time, something didn't let you focus on the moment. You pushed him away.

"So we're just gonna fuck now? As if nothing happened?"

He didn't say anything, just kissed you forcefully, holding your head so you couldn't move away. You bit his lip with all your strenght until he pulled off and touched his lip, just to see blood on his fingers.

"You stupid whore..." he mumbled and pushed you on your back. You tried to get up but he pinned you to the seat and with one free hand he tried to unbutton your shirt, but most buttons just fell off when he yanked the material. He leaned over and bit your breast. Pain pierced your body and you wanted to scream but he covered your mouth with his palm.

"Shhh..." he silenced you "You don't want somebody to catch us?"

Instead of responding, you bit his hand and used all your strength to got up while he still was surprised. You grabbed his tshirt and tried to pulled it over his head. Despite his irritation, Ramsay helped you (perhaps he wanted to see more than just dark material on his face).

You sat astride on his lap and began to kiss his chest and suck on his neck. You were still angry at him but the desire turned out to be stronger. You still could see the fire in his eyes, but for now Ramsay stayed unmoved, focusing on the pleasure.

His hands went under your skirt, squeezing your thigs, digging nails into your skin. You moaned between the kisses as he was marking you with bruises. You could feel bulge in his pants so you started moving your hips and rubbing against him. Ramsay gasped. You were together long enough for you to know how to stimulate him, get him on the edge and drive him crazy.

He raised his hips a bit and pulled down his trousers. His dick sprung out, already hard.

You  took off your panties and wanted to slide on him but it didn't want to get in.

"Fuck" you swore under your breath and you wanted to put it in forcefully but Ramsay stopped you. He started fingering you, massaging your clit with his thumb.

"Tight as a virgin. But don't worry, we'll get you wet"

"I am no virgin" you replied angrily. He smirked.

"I know, you're more visited attraction than Statue of Liberty"

"Oh, fuck you"

"Fuck me yourself, coward"

He took off his fingers and pushed his cock inside you. You didn't manage to find a fitting remark as you were adjusting to his girth. You slowly moved up and down and started riding him.

[luvinescent]

Stealing Time

Pairing: Modern!Robb Stark x fem!Reader

Summary: Weddings should be an event full of joy and happiness for everyone involved. Especially for the bride and groom, who are the main focal point of it all. So, what is the reason for celebrations if they both have gone missing?

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v, dirty talk, etc.

Word count: 3933

Additional: M/H/N stands for Maid of Honors Name.

A soft melody of a strong quartet could be heard through the air like a soft breeze as more guests continued to arrive. The venue was decorated with fairy lights that cascaded down, a crystal chandelier in the middle of it all, creating an inviting and dreamy atmosphere. The celebratory music pulsated on the dance floor, enticing visitors to sway and swirl in a joyful celebration. The air was filled with laughter and lively discussions that mixed with the sound of glasses clinking as toasts were being offered in honor of the newlyweds.

The only problem was that neither one of them were present in the room.

Catelyn Stark, mother of the groom, stood scanning the room next to the wedding planner— a young girl who looked to be on the verge of pulling out her hair. Catelyn could hear the small anxious mutters of “we’re off schedule now” as the girl kept analyzing the clipboard she held in her hand. Excusing herself from the girl and her husband, Catelyn went towards the hallways connecting to the venue. She was stopped in her travels by a distant relative on her husbands’ side, smiling at the old man.

“Catelyn!” he greeted heartily. “Where is that boy of yours? I haven’t seen him or the new Mrs.”. He let out a great laugh, holding onto his rounded beer belly for support. Catelyn returned the laugh, nodding at his question, “I was just about to go get him. I’ll be right back”.

She turned around; the sound of her heels clicking on the shiny floor echoed, causing any guests in her path to quickly shift aside. Catelyn walked with a confident stance, her chin up, shoulders back, and a big smile covering her face. A smile that was very deceiving and Jon Snow knew this when she came faced with him.

“Where is your brother?”

He stared wide eyed at her, caught off guard by her presence and her question. His face was a ballet of nervousness, revealing the false confidence he was trying so hard to keep up. “I-I, uh… I don’t know...”, Jon shrugged his shoulder, wincing a little at the look she gave him. Catelyn smacked her lips, grabbing a hold of Jons ear, “Don’t lie to me. Where is Robb? The nerve of that boy! Disappearing at his own wedding, and you covering for him. I thought I raised you both better than this!”. The entire time, the bride’s maid of honor had stood next to Jon, witnessing him get a scolding from his mother, but Catelyn could care less about his embarrassment. Before Catelyn could continue her interrogation, she was stopped by the sound of a familiar voice within her distance. “Have you seen Y/N?”.

Turning around, Catelyn saw the mother of the bride asking a family member before she turned and saw her. “Oh, Cat!”, the mother rushed towards her, “Have you seen my daughter? I can’t find her anywhere”.

Putting back on that wide smile, Catelyn turned her head to Jon and the maid of honor. “What a coincidence. I can’t seem to find my son either.”

The two looked like deer’s caught in headlights. Both their words jumbled out fast, inaudible to the human ear. Thinking fast, M/H/N leaped into action, her words both a hasty attempt and holding a somewhat truth to them. “Y/N went to go change from her wedding gown to her reception dress”. Jon nodded vigorously in agreement at her explanation, “A-And Robb wanted to change his shoes”. M/H/N whipped her neck and gave Jon a glare, his add on not helping as Robb did not bring extra shoes. Y/N’s mother did not have time to question any of what they said—being brisked away to go greet a great aunt.

Catelyn stood in front of the two adults once again. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by their statements.

“Y/N went to go change?”

“Yes”, M/H/N said instantly.

“And Robb went to go change his shoes?”

“Yes”, now it was Jon.

“…and they went together?”

“…yes”, they both replied. Humming to herself, she continued observing them, knowing very well they were hiding something. “How long ago did they leave?”. They once again exchanged looks with one another, face flushed with embarrassment, “Uh, not that long ago…they’ll be here soon”. Catelyn’s skepticism deepened, her eyes darting from M/H/N awkward performance to Jon’s increasingly guilty expression. Letting out a sigh and rubbing her temples, she turned to return to the party, “Fine”.

With one hand tangled in his auburn curls, you panted against Robb’s lips, “mm you’re insane”. Robb chose to ignore your words, his lips choosing to instead attack your neck and his fingers gripping hard on your thigh— surely to leave bruises come morning. Craning your neck back for more easy access, you tried reasoning, “they’re probably looking for us now—“. You couldn’t even finish your sentence, his cock having thrusted into your walls so deep it left you gasping for air, “f-Fuck, Robb!”

He groaned against your neck, his hips moving in rhythm against yours, “Who cares what they’re doing when I get to have you like this to all to myself”.  You almost bit your tongue when his hand slipped between the two of you, fingers rubbing at your sweet spot, “Fuck, I love it when you moan my name”.

It was almost close to an hour ago when your maid of honor took you to change out of your wedding dress into your reception dress. Coming out of the dressing room, you were met with both your newly brother-in-law and newly husband. While M/H/N and Jon engaged in some conversation about the band arriving soon, Robb and you took to wrapping each other up in arms. With a huge grin on his face, he planted small kisses all over your face, “My gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, wife”. Laughing at how his stubble tickled against your face, you laid your palm up against his cheek, “Aye, watch the makeup”, quickly giving him a kiss on the lips before pulling away and looking into his blue eyes, “but thank you my very handsome, good-looking, very very very attractive husband”. You two shared a moment of silence and intense gaze before you both broke out in giggles, capturing each other’s lips in one another, moving tendering and deeply. Pulling away, Robb stared down at you, both love in his eyes but also a hint of something else.

“You know you really do look gorgeous. You look equally as beautiful in this dress as you did in your wedding dress”. You thanked him once again but gave him a puzzled look when he said he had other opinions, however.

“And what other opinions are those?”, you said, smiling while waving at a cousin who just entered the building. Turning back to Robb, you noticed the way his eyes had slightly shifted in emotion; something more carnal behind them. Bending down his head towards your ear, he whispered softly, “If we weren’t in public right now, I’d have you naked with my head between your thighs”. His voice brought chills up your spine as he blew a soft gust of air on your earlobe before going back to height. Biting your lip and playing with his tie, you titled your head to the side and chuckled softly “You would, huh?”. His only reply was a nod, watching your every move like hawk and gulping as your fingers started to trail along his neck now. Robb was being unfair; he knew just how much his words had an effect on you. But yours did too. Bringing him down by his tie, you’d thought best to return his teasing—fighting fire with fire.

Slowly, you leaned up, “…I want you inside of me. I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do right now”. You could hear his breath hitch behind his closed mouth. Both of you were once again stuck in an intense stare down, this time only desire and want in your gazes. You were quick to fix yourself up, distancing yourself a bit from Robb and plastering on an innocent smile as more guests arrived, “Hi. Thank you for coming”. You snickered to yourself; feeling Robbs eyes on your back as he hadn’t moved a single inch from his spot. Jon and M/H/N ended their conversation and turned to face you both, nodding their head in the direction of the main area, “Alright, let’s get going”.

You took one single step before Robb came up behind you, grabbing you by your forearm and pushing you towards his chest. “Actually”, he started, “Y/N told me her dress is bothering her”. M/H/N had stepped up, examining you from head to toe, “Oh, let me help— “. Robb had interrupted her by raising his hand and shaking his head, “No, it’s fine. I got it. Besides, we want to spend some quiet time together, don’t we babe?”. Looking up at him, you quickly assessed the situation and nodded along, “R-right, yeah. We’ll be right back. You guys go and have fun. Who cares about us anyways.”

Jon and M/H/N didn’t have time to argue back— the new couple running down the halls of the building, hand in hand with laughter being echoed throughout it. Jon tsked his tongue, shouting at his brother and sister-in-law who were still in view, “What do you mean who cares about you guys?! This is your wedding!”. They both turned to flip Jon off, turning the corner and disappearing to the next connecting hall. Sighing, Jon rubbed his face as M/H/N came to stand next to him in silence.

“You know there was nothing wrong with her dress”. “… Yeah”.

And that’s how you found yourself with Robb in some random office room in the building of your wedding reception. Robb’s patience was running low as he pushed you up against the wall and against the corner of what some seemed to be some bookshelf. Both your lips hungrily going at each other very frantically. A loud moan was swallowed by his mouth when his fingers went down, pushing your panties to the side and starting to play with your wet folds and opening. Wasting no time, you trailed your hands down towards his belt, quickly trying to undo it. Robb pulled away entirely from you, using the distance to unbutton a bit of his dress shirt and to take off his belt. Breathing heavily, you grabbed him back down by the neck for another kiss, biting his lip and sucking on his tongue. Pulling away, you raised an eyebrow at Robb with a smirk present on your face and his lips darkened and wet with saliva, “I’m almost positive this kind of tradition is reserved for tonight. You know, after the reception, not during”. Robb laughed slightly, pushing up against you and grabbing a hold of your thigh, wrapping your leg around his waist while the other stood for balance. His other hand was used to bunch up the fabric of your white party dress and to pull down one of its straps. “What can I say”, he bit along your neck, “you’re just so damn beautiful. So damn sexy. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold myself back when I saw you walking down that aisle”. His lips returned to yours. This kiss was messy with teeth almost clashing and tongues fighting. Both your hands were everywhere they could be felt; his on your thighs, ass, hips, breasts, and yours on his chest, neck, and back. Pulling away, Robb looked at you from head to toe and gave you a teasing smile, “And what’s all this?”. With both your body movements and clothes shifting, Robb had finally taken noticed of the white lace lingerie you had underneath the entire time of both your wedding dress and your reception dress. Rolling your eyes, you gave him a pointed look, “It was supposed to be for tonight. Way to ruin the surprise”.  He pouted mockingly at you and let out a small chuckle, kissing your forehead before his previous lustful look returned, “We can keep it on for now. And for tonight, I’ll just pretend it’s my first time seeing it”.

The way he spoke and stared at you had sent something straight to your burning core and had made you shifted closer to him unconsciously. “Such a gentleman”, you spoke running a thumb along his bottom lip and started kissing him again. With his belt already undone, it only took a few seconds to push down his clothing layers just enough to free his cock. As a brief warning, sliding your panties to the side, he slid his tip through your wet folds for a couple seconds. The whine you let out was all he needed before he pushed entirely inside you. You gasped loudly and screwed your eyes shut as Robb gave you a few seconds to adjust to the sudden fullness. Shaking your head, you bit down on your lip, “Don't be gentle with me—I like it when you're rough”. Robb wasted no time, gripping your thigh and fucking deeply into you, “Ah, fuck”, he moaned out, “you feel so fucking good. My good girl. My fucking wife”. He moved his lips along your collarbone, groaning and biting down. “Mm, fuck” you muffled out as your pussy clenched around his hard cock with every thrust he made. Robb took a second to look down, watching the way you took him in and your sleek and arousal that coated him every time he reentered. He was in heaven. Looking back up, you stared at Robb whose pupils were dilated in rapture with a little sweat coating his forehead. You probably looked the same to him as well. Your standing leg was starting to lose balance, causing you to slightly shift. Robb was quick to grab a hold of you, causing the tip of his cock to hit your most sensitive spot and just what he was looking for. “Hmm!”, you moaned out, “fuck Robb, right there!”, you truly felt like you were seeing stars. He started to fuck into you even faster and harder, increasing his movements, your pussy clenching even more, indicating your release. Eyes rolling back, you let your head fall back against the wall as you let out a mixture of curse words, moans, and Robbs’ name. Your body filled with warmth and pleasure, trembling as Robb held onto you and continued trying to reach his own climax. His movements were starting to get sloppy; you knew he was reaching his dissolve soon. However, he had to stop his movements abruptly; the doorknob to the room shaking vigorously.

Despite having locked the door beforehand, it was Robb’s natural reflex to reach over and hold onto the knob. At the same time doing so, he had let out a groan, and you a squeak as he slightly pushed you with his body. You were caught off balance but were able to hold onto the corner of the bookshelf, giving Robb a glare while he raised his finger up to his lip.

“Is somebody in there?”

Both your eyes widened in mutual shock; mouths agape as you two exchanged a horrified glance. You both recognized that voice as Robb’s Aunt Lysa.

She started banging harshly on the door now, “I know that someone is in there. I can hear you! This is a private event! If the cops need to be called, I have no problem- “.

“It’s me Aunt Lysa”, Robb spoke out, slightly cringing. Your face was flushed red; both because of your current activities and because of shame. Looking down, Robb’s left hand still had your thigh wrapped around his waist and his cock still buried inside you.

“Robb?”, Lysa questioned, “Is that you? Your mother has been looking everywhere for you! What are you doing in there?”

Robb gave you a once-over before clearing his throat, “I’m just…changing”. Your grip on the shelf was losing itself, causing you to readjust and move — which caused you to slightly sink down onto Robb’s cock. He was quick to bite his lip to stop the moan coming from his mouth, almost drawing blood in the process. Robb knew you too well and covered your mouth with his hand, knowing you would do the same. The only probably was that he wasn’t as quick.

“Now, hold on,” Lysa loudly said from the other side of the door, “I can hear another person in there and it sounds like a woman. Robb Stark you may be my nephew but I swear to God if you’re doing what I think your doing - “

“It’s me Mrs. Arryn”, you finally spoke out too. There was a moment of silence from the other end before Lysa started speaking again, “Oh, Y/N. Of course… Your mother was also looking for you…”. There was some awkwardness to her tone as you tried your best to clean up the situation, “I’m just changing too. Robb’s helping me”. Another awkward silence passed, “Of course he is…”. You and Robb gave each other a side glance; it was clear she didn’t believe you two and knew what you two were really doing. “Well”, Lysa began, “I best let you two get back to uh…changing…oh, um, where are the bathrooms?”. Robb was the one to answer her question, “On the other side of the building”. With a quick thank you and goodbye, you could hear the distant sound of her heels from the other side before she was gone entirely.

Turning back to Robb, you slapped his chest, groaning into your hands, “Ughhhh, that was so embarrassing”. He only laughed, making you peek at him from the gaps of your fingers. “What are you laughing at? You heard her; our parents are looking for us, so we better go”. Robb’s only response was to kiss you sloppy, pushing back once more inside you. You gasped into his mouth, his tongue playing with yours. Robb then pulled out of you completely, making you whimper from the sudden emptiness. Grabbing you by the forearm, he dragged you towards the desk in the room, bending you over it, pushing your dress up and your panties down— exposing yourself fully to him. He caressed your ass before smacking it hard; making you huff, “Let them wait a few more minutes”, his fingers played along your glistening folds. Standing up behind you, he pushed himself back into you, thrusting in, and out, and in again. Each time rougher than the other as he stretched out your cunt. Grabbing ahold of your hair and arching your back for him, he spoke into your ear, “This is our special day, isn’t it?”. Your only answer was a loud moan, his fingers being placed in your mouth to suck on. “Besides, I’m not fully done with you”.

About twenty minutes later (some of which took up of M/H/N fixing your makeup and concealing your bite marks), you and Robb entered the main room holding arms. Guests were raising their glasses up to you in cheers— some already clearly starting to get tipsy. A close friend of yours came up to you both, hugging you and giving you your congrats while Robb shook hands with her boyfriend. Once they pulled away and moved aside, you both had clear sight across the room of the one person who was looking for you two the most: Catelyn Stark. To make matters worse, she was also conversing with her sister; both whispering and giving you two the side eye.

“Crap” both you and Robb said in unison, watching Catelyn with her wrath make her way towards you. Your sight was cut off by the wedding planner standing stressed and tired in front of you, “Okay, we can get back on schedule if we just follow with the original plan. Bride, it’s time for the father-daughter dance”. Your ears perked up at the familiar sound of the music you had chosen for this occasion and turned to see your dad already on the dance floor. Turning back to Robb, you gave him a sheepish smile, “Would you look at that… gotta go”. He was quick to grab a hold of your hand, “You can’t leave me. You vowed to be with me through anything”. Pulling your hand back, you raised both hands up in defense, “I had my fingers crossed when I said that”.

Seeing his pouted puppy look made you laugh, quickly blowing him a kiss, “I’m kidding. I love you”, turning to go dance with your father. Robb didn’t even have to turn around— already feeling his mother’s presence behind him. Wrapping arms with him, many passersby would see the scene as a mother coddling her son. But Catelyn was actually pinching Robb’s side, and hard. “You are so vulgar I swear. At your own wedding Robb, really? You couldn’t wait until after?”, she spoke through gritted teeth.

Robb winced a little at the pain, but his eyesight was also focused on you. Smiling and laughing with your father. “Why are you getting only me in trouble? Y/N was equally in on it”. Catelyn could only roll her eyes at her sons’ immature response, “Please, knowing you and knowing her it was probably all your doing”. Staring up at him to continue her scolding, she stopped momentarily at the look in her sons’ eyes. Following his line of vision, she was meet with you. A tender smile graced Catelyn lips. Nothing short of captivating was the way he gazed upon you. His unspoken proclamation of love seemed to go beyond words, and his eyes radiated an undying commitment. “Are you happy?”, she asked Robb. The song was coming close to the end. Robb turned to face his mother, a stern look on his face and nothing but seriousness was his tone, “Yes. I am”. From the corner of his eye, Robb could see your father leading you to him. Standing up higher, Catelyn gave him a quick peck on the forehead, “Good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted”. You and your father came face to face with the both of them, Catelyn giving you a peck on the cheek and your father handing you over to Robb, “She’s all yours’ son,” he patted his shoulder, “take care of her”.

Robb led you to the dance floor where the band had started to play a slower and more romantic song. Swaying to the tempo, you spoke up, “So, was she angry?”. Robb let out a small chuckle, smiling down at you. “She was,” he began, “but she said she’d forgive us if we gave her a grandchild”. Staring at him agape, you slapped his chest with a small gasp, “She did not say that!”. Now you both were laughing. The world around you two seemed to fade into a soft blur as you moved, lost in the embrace of your love. Resting your head against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I love you”, Robb spoke up, his hand tenderly placed on the small of your back. Sighing deeply, inhaling his scent and allowing yourself to bask in his warmth, both of you feeling safe in each other’s embrace, you let him know your feelings, “I love you too”.

Enjoying the moment's beauty, you both stayed in each other's arms as the music softly faded into the night. You both understood that this dance was only the start of an endless journey together.

[perkqularkreashions]

BEAST

I’m backkkk

PART 1

GOT IMAGINE: y/n [with she/her pronouns] is the beauty of Westeros, is a stark sibling, and has a secret relationship with Jamie and but soon starts to fall for Tyrion. Multiple parts maybe?

NOTES: Follows both Book and TV series. MATURE. 

Sansa stared at her sister, she couldn’t help but become envious of the woman. She was a beauty, nothing like her mother and herself who possessed the beauty of the Tully’s. The way her dark hair shined in the Winterfell’s sun, the way she beautifully blushed, the vermillion color spreading to the apples of her cheek and the tip of her nose. She spoke with ease, everything flowing past her lips, almost felt rehearsed. Y/N Stark, a beauty of Westeros. Many suitors had traveled to take in her beauty, to have a gentle kiss lay on her hand or simply behold in her presence. Sansa, often prayed to the Gods that her sister would succumb to an illness or that she would obtain even a fraction of her beauty. 

Y/N's knees firmly pressed into the ground running the dress that mother had picked out for her. Her smile was bright as she pushed her hands through the dire wolf’s face, her nose mashing against his as she giggled out. Her pup, outgrew the litter, even when he sitting, he was overlooking the rest. Sansa watched Y/N’s fingers run through his obsidian black fur. His dark amber eyes looked down at her as she whispered to him. Something she often did, Eddard Stark often thought it weird as she would always murmur things to the beastly pup, his expression was always filled with intent and understanding. “Beast!” Sansa calls out, both the pup’s and her sister’s heads turned, a soft smile writing itself on her face.

She responds “Sansa?” the mud and sticks attach themselves to her dress, the periwinkle now covered with dirt and mud.

“I want to impress the prince, I want to be as beautiful as you” the words fell out of Sansa’s lips. A frown soon wrote itself on her face as she tugged on her bottom lip. 

“You are a beauty, your grace jealousies me sometimes” Y/N admits, her hand tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Sansa was taken aback, she looks at her sister holding her breath as she smiles. “Don’t ever change yourself for a man, especially a prince. You are Sansa Stark, that should be more than enough for that boy” she gently whispers. 

It happened all too soon, Y/N was unamused by the arrival of the King and the Queen, high above everyone else, their heads held even higher passing through the opening. She squeezed between Robb, and as he brushed her shoulder roughly an enormous smile plastered on his face. “Mother will have your head beast” he whispers, his eyes falling to Beast, the oversized dire wolf that made space for himself tween the two. Y/N smirked before her eyes fell on the Lannisters, blessed with golden locks of hair that gently kissed the chilled breeze. They were radiating, an unpleasant contrast to the dullness that Y/N was used to. Her eyes caught hold of the Kingslayer, and a slow smirk rested on his face as his posture straightened. 

Beast growled, his head jamming into Y/N’s side, her eyes snapping down noticing the wolf’s gaze focused ahead of him. “Don’t be rude” she murmurs before returning her gaze to the Kingslayer’s as he never left hers. He flashed a cocky smile, Y/N's face remained unchanged as she just studied his face, the way his lips curled and the lines on his face contort. She turned her gaze forward, watching the King’s guard tramble in. 

It was finally Y/N’s turn, to be gawked and talked upon. “My Gods” he whispered; Y/N's eyes fluttered to the bellowing man’s voice. It was strong and certain. “You’ve grown” he comments, his hand gently brushing her hair out of her face. The soft and sudden color of her cheek, the flow, and feel of her soft dark hair, and the way her eyes held no emotion yet told captured him as they once did. His attention was cut short, and Beast’s slow guttural growl filled the air. Y/N's face reminded unchanging as Beast’s voice grew louder. Caitlyn's jaw clenched her eyes burning into Ned’s head, as he refused to look her way. 

Caitlyn inconspicuously nuzzled into Ned’s side, whispering “I told her not to bring the damned pup. She’s stubborn” 

A small smile was drawn on Ned’s face as he watched his daughter for a moment. Her dark hair resembled Jon’s. Y/N had her face, that was for certain. 

“I would like to see her” Robert's voice cutting through the silence as he moved away from Y/N. Soon the pair had embarked on seeing Lyanna’s tomb, the heaviness in the air leaving with them. 

“Mom’s going to have your head” Robb teased. 

The festivities grew, the drunken men singing and bellowing. Y/N and Beast watched Jon, sitting at the far end of the hall, tossing scraps to Ghost. She let out a low and long whistle, capturing the dire wolf’s attention. 

“I want to walk alone, go give Jon and Ghost some company” Y/N whispers out, Beast huffs in dismay laying on the floor his eyes trained on Jon, she moves away from Beast, yet she knows that no matter where she went they were always connected, seeing each other’s lives through their shared eyes. She was him and he was her. 

“A beauty of Westeros” a voice whispered, low and snarky. She didn’t need to look to know it was Ser Jamie. She folded her arms slightly, a smile playing on her lips as she turned to him. “I missed you petal”

Delicate like a flower, she was. “Have you really Ser Jamie?” she whispered, finally looking at him. There it was, the soft smile written on his face, his hands wrapping against the fabric of her dress yanking her closer to him. His lips molded into hers, and the taste of honey and ale filled his senses. Slowly, they moved to the ground, the dewy earth soaking her back as she yanked up her dress. His finger slowly glided against her exposed thigh, his hand grazing against her soaking pussy as she moaned against his mouth. He hissed for a moment, snatching himself away. 

“Not tonight” he whispers, Y/N's face grew still, her eyes scanning over his as he slowly sat up. He sat in front of her, eyes churning in an unreadable expression as he sighed for a moment. He didn’t know how to say it, he wanted to be honest, he wanted to prove to himself that he could be good for her. He cuffed her face, his thumb roughly tracing over her lips and her cheek. “Not tonight petal”

A low howl filled the air, long and came in clusters of three. She smiled pressing a long kiss to his unexpecting lips. She stood up, looking down at the Kingslayer. Without a moment to think, words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I love you” It was low and danced through the air. She clung to those words; her lips pressed together. 

She answered in a tone that made him weak. “I love you” With that she was gone, her scent lingering in the air. 

Y/N was met with Beast and Tyrion Lannister scolding each other, his drunken hand moving to his head as he growled lowly. She calls out to him, her face contorting into anger as Tyrion was finally able to rest his hand on his head. 

“Y/N Stark, a pleasure” Tyrion bowed gently, his eyes looking through his ghostly white hair. A smirk played on his lips as he moved toward the Stark girl. “Your dire wolf is most peculiar” 

She answered, “He is, and that you would make you an observant man.” Tyrion chuckled at the word, he heard rumors of her beauty and gentleness- he never took heed to them, he knew of the exaggeration that horny men had. Their dicks harden at the thought of her beauty, men swear it to the Gods that she is above all, men whom have seen her, gaze upon her dark eyes, and caress her soft skin. Tyrion now beholding her beauty can say he understood. The fabric of her gown wraps around her frame, her breast hardening at the chilled wind, but it didn’t bother her greatly. Her full lips and her careful eyes. She was exactly how they describe her. 

“I am no man” he turns away from her, his eyes finding the wolf’s once more. 

“No?” she laughs out, it was soft, and kissed against his ears. “What are you then, may I ask Tyrion?” 

He couldn’t shake the thought that she was mocking him, yet her tone was delicate full of wonder and childlike curiosity. He once again pets the wolf, this time he allows him. Beast enjoys his stubby fingers running through his fur. He catches the look of the dire wolf, for a moment he thought that he could see Y/N in the wolf, her facial expression, and her thoughts as it was written out on the wolf’s face. 

“An abomination” He turned back to her, and suddenly nerves overtook him, he couldn’t be in her presence any longer. 

“Says who?” she chuckles moving to her knees, her hand gripping his shoulder forcing him to look at her. For a moment he couldn’t breathe. 

“I know what I am, nothing will ever hurt as long as I know. Used as a weapon against me” He gazed into her dark eyes; his thumb gently traced against her chin. “Your niceness is a warmth that I appreciate.” 

“And your lies do not fall upon deaf ears” she whispered moving his hand away from her. Y/N's attentions moved to Beast as their caught sight of the figure in the distance, she knew all too well who was. Her gaze remained fixed on Tyrion’s. 

“I must be going now, it was a pleasure Tyrion” she hums, moving to her feet, her scent lingering well past her departure, Tyrion closed his eyes letting his gaze fall to the ground. 

“Brother” Jamie lets out, his eyes narrowing to him. 

“She’s beautiful isn’t she” Tyrion finally lets out after a moment of silence. His hand adjusts his dick as he lets out a low chuckle. “Even beautiful feels like an insult” 

Jamie didn’t utter a word, he couldn’t. Anger built up him, festering in the pit of his stomach. His fist clenches at his side as he gazes in the darkness. 

He must see her tonight.

[chloe-skywalker]

Propersituations - Robb Stark

Part 1

(1/2)

Rob x fem!reader Targaryen

Warnings: GOT

Word count: 810

Summary: Y/n and her sister Daenerys have decided to possibly help Robb Stark with his war. But will he accept the terms?

Authors Note: I really love this concept and will probably do more like it in the future.

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Taking another piece of land from the Lannister army wasn’t easy. Espeacially when Robb found himself on his back with a sword coming down towards his chest, ready to impale him.

When suddenly out of the blue a sword stuck out of the soldiers chest. As he fell Robb stood up and noticed his savior was a woman on horseback. He gave her a nodd of appreciation and she returned it. After the exchange the two continued to keep fighting.

Once the battle was over and the North had taken more territory Robb looked around searching for the woman that had saved his life.

Upon spotting her he noticed that she was actually heading his way on her horse. Once she was infront of him Robb nodded in thanks from earlier. “Thanks. I owe you my life.”

The woman smiled down at him. “Just win the War young wolve.”

“Who are you?” He asked stunned by the woman infront of him. She saved his life and she was stunning in her beauty. Why was this gorgeous woman on the battle field.

“Y/n. Y/n Targaryen.” Y/n spoke as she got off her horse. That’s when Robb noticed the small baby dragon on her shoulder.

“Targaryen?” Robb questioned shocked at hearing the name that was thought to have been extincted till as of late. The hair and dragon were shocking factors as well.

“Yes.” She nodded in confirmation, as she got off her horse gracefully. She was sure her name in Westeros was mind blowing.

“Explains the hair.” He joked with a friendly smile.

“And your a Stark. Explains the Direwolf.” Y/n teased back smiling at his nice break of the ice and lighten the mood. The way she smiled towards Greywind told Robb she truly wasn’t afraid of the Direwolf. But then again she had a dragon, why would she be afraid.

“I’ve heard of your sister. And you.” Robb said as the both of them walked throng the once battle field.

“Most have.” She commented looking around at all the remains. Most seemed to be lannister army whihc was good for the North she thought.

“Why’d you save me?” Robb asked her stopping the both of them from walking. He knew she wasn’t there when the fight had started. She must of shown up in the middle of it and decided to help out. It seemed to him that she had brought some men of her own with her. So was her intent to come and help? Why was she here? Last he heard her and her sister were across the sea.

“I’d like to help you win. Become King of the North.” Y/n told him flat out her reasons. Y/n had heard of what was going on in Westeros where her and her sister were. She wanted to help.

“In exchange for?” Robb knew that couldn’t be it. There had to be a motive, something her and her sister would get in exchange.

“Smart of you to assume there’s a catch young King.” She smiled proudly at his quick mind. “My sister wants to take her rightful spot on the Iron Throne. I hear you don’t want it. So. My propersituation is you stay King of the North, but under my sister Daenerys.”

Robb listened ti her propersituation and it wasn’t a bad one he’d admit. But what else besides the North would he get out of this?

“An what do I get out of this besides the North?” he questioned curious to know it there’s more.

“We help you wim. We have the numbers.” y/n told him clasping her hand together infront of her. She could tell he was skeptical and she would be to.

“How do I know you and your sister won’t turn on me and mine?” Robb narrowed his eye’s watching her carefully to see if her body language would give anything away. But she seemed completely open and honest.

“We don’t break our promises to people but if you wish to have a more solid agreement. What do you propose?” She offered this opening to bring trust between them. If he came up with a reasonable thing to add for this to work then Y/n could hopefully make it work.

Even thought it was Robbs idea to add something for a better, stronger Alliance, but he didn’t have anything off the top of his head. “How about you stay with us for awhile and we can discuss it?”

Y/n smiled giving him a nod of thanks and respect. He’d rather think of a good agreement then something on the spot. “I’d be honored.”

Robb nodded back with a matching smile. “The honors all mine.”

This way they could come up with something together that they both agree upon and he could get to know her.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

[multifandomfanfiction]

Legendary

TITLE: Legendary PAIRING: Past Oberyn/OC RATING: T CHAPTER: One-shot SUMMARY: Nymeros finds out that his mother has kept something very important from him: his father is the legendary Red Viper of Dorne.

[A/N - Inspired by "Legendary" from Epic: The Musical.]

Nymeros walked through the marketplace. His mother had sent him to pick up a few things for dinner. As he was passing a vendor, he stopped.

On the table were beautiful daggers and swords of all kinds.

As he looked over the wares, his eyes were drawn to a dagger with a snake for the hilt.

“A beautiful blade is it not?” the vendor asked him, “Have you ever used a dagger, boy?”

Nymeros nodded his head. “Consider it a gift, little prince.”

Little prince?

Nymeros’ brows furrowed.

“Perhaps you should ask your mother. She was once the very good friend of a very powerful man.”

“Thank you, sir,” Nymeros said. He quickly made his way home. When he walked in the door, his mother was in the kitchen.

Though she had aged throughout the years, the village still considered her one the most beautiful women in Essos. She looked up and smiled.

“There you are, my love.” She walked over to him and took his face in her hands, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“I brought what you asked for, mother.”

Criria took the basket from her son and set it on the counter, pulling out the parcels. “What is that you have?” Criria asked, seeing the blade in his hand.

“The vendor gave it to me. He…he called me “Little Prince”.” Nymeros watched the blood drain from his mother’s face. “Mother? What did he mean?”

Criria took a deep breath and turned to her son.

He looked so much like his father. His expressive brown eyes, the charismatic smile, the dark brown hair that curled when it got long.

“Many years ago, before you were born, a man came to our shores. He had been exiled from his…kingdom for an offense against another Lord.”

“Kingdoms? Lords?” His mother had never told him anything about his father, only that he had been a fierce warrior.

Criria placed her hand on his cheek. “Your father was…is…the second son of the Kingdom of Dorne. Your father is Prince Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper.” She took the dagger from him. “He lived here with me for a while and the entire village knew. That is why the vendor gave you this dagger.”

“Why…why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I did not want you to feel any different about our life. I did not want you to think about how our life could have been. We were happy.”

Nymeros, although upset his mother had lied to him, understood why his mother had kept his father from him. Nymeros looked down at the dagger in his mother’s hands and then looked back at her. “I want to go to Dorne.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Nymeros and Criria packed what they could and paid for a boat to take them across the Narrow Sea.

On the journey, Criria told him stories of his father.

Nymeros could only hope his father would welcome him with open arms.

When they arrived in Dorne, they made their way to Sunspear.

Oberyn had told her about it, but his descriptions did not do it justice. Somehow Criria had convinced the guards to give them a private audience with Doran, Oberyn, and Adrienne.

They entered the throne room and Criria’s heart stopped.

He looked just as he had when he had stepped off the boat in Essos. More rugged and with silver in his hair, but his eyes were the same.

They approached Doran on the dais. “My lady. Young lord,” Doran said, “I was told you wanted an audience with us. Why?”

Criria cleared her throat and stepped closer to Oberyn. “18 years ago, Prince Oberyn arrived in Essos.”

“I know of it. I sent him there,” Doran said.

Oberyn looked at Criria, trying to remember who she was.

“We were together and I became with child. He left before I knew and I did not know what do to.” Criria motioned to Nymeros to come forward. “This is my son, Nymeros Martell. Son of Oberyn Martell and heir to the Dornish throne.”

Oberyn’s heart stopped. “Criria?”

Criria smiled sadly. “Hello, my love.”

Oberyn ran down the steps and embraced Criria, pressing his lips to hers. “You are as beautiful as the day we met.”

Criria rolled her eyes. “You always were such a liar.”

Oberyn chuckled and tucked some hair behind her ear. Oberyn pulled away from Criria to look at his son.

He looked around one-and-eight, which would match up with his departure from Essos. There was a dagger hanging from his hip with a snake hilt.

“You know how to use that blade, boy?” Oberyn asked.

Nymeros nodded. “My mother has told me about your prowess with a spear. I can only hope to be as legendary as you one day.”

Oberyn embraced his son. “You will be, my son.”