#asha x reader

[freakassfemme]

(Smut) Captain's Quarters - Yara Greyjoy x CisF!Reader

Summary: Princess Y/N, sibling of Queen Daenerys, has returned with her sister for a visit to the Iron Islands. These visits used to be more commonplace, but the two have not visited the islands since before the Battle of Winterfell. Y/N has a strong attachment to the islands, but finds her attachment has extended to its reigning monarch in a new, unfamiliar way.

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: loss of virginity, oral sex, fingering, praise kink (kinda), the works

A/N: Long time no see! I got so sick and tired of there being no reader insert for Yara that I arose from the dead with 4.2K words of yara-posting. Yara-yearning, if you will.

NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT

The night was surprisingly warm for the Iron Islands, and the salty mist of the beaches hung heavy in the air and clung to the sway of your hips and undone hair. Your hands clutched your silken robe shut as you leisured through the sand, a soothing waft of lavender from your recent bubble bath hitting your nose with a gentle breeze.

You paused at the base of the shore, where the brine nipped at your toes and you tilted your head back, deeply inhaling into your chest. Your eyes slipped shut.

It wasn't often you and your sister were able to visit the islands, but gods above, you had missed it. Queen Yara had earned a special place in Daeneyrs's heart after her proven loyalty to the Dragon Queen, and thus routine visits were necessary to uphold the alliance between the Greyjoys and the remaining Targaryens. Sometimes it felt like you had grown up here, and sometimes the coldness of Pyke felt more familiar to you than anything back home, despite how long it had been since you had returned.

You would never admit it, but something about the sea and the people on this particular side of the world had consumed you during all these years of visits. Something about the people's wildness and the way it mimicked the ocean that mothered the island spoke to you and whispered to you at night and danced on your eyelids in spirals and swirls.

Some other nights, when the whispers never came, you would hold a large shell up to your ear and pray. The beloved gift had always answered you with the melodic pounding of waves against rocks, against ships, and lured you to sleep. In your dreams, you would sink into your deepest desires.

In this realm, much below the surface level of what was true and probable, you would find yourself standing beside an iron throne. This was not unusual for you -- you had been born to stand behind your brother, and then readjusted to beside your sister. Your duty had always been protecting the honor of this seat and whomever presides in it, and yet this integral piece of your mind, heart, body and soul vanished in these moments, and instead, you found yourself for once atop of the throne.

Well, atop of its monarch.

Clawing at the throne, which was not particularly jagged and sharp like the one your sister sat upon, and clawing at the crowned, whose calloused hands curled inside you and rough lips whispered filthy promises to you in a voice that sounded an awful lot like

"Yara!"

You stumbled away from the shore, whose once soothing pulls had now gone ice cold and stabbed at your feet and at hem of your robe. Your hand readjusted the collar of your robe out of instinct, as your sense slowly settled, though your burning cheeks lingered a bit too long.

Turning towards the disturbance, your eyes caught on the closest (and largest) docked ship, whose windows and deck harbored light and celebration. A group of sailors and soldiers drank merrily and called for a straggling participant, who marched towards the boat and waved them off, enjoying the attention in her own way. In this moment, you were grateful that the shadows of the cliffs behind you hid your so very clearly out of place figure.

Your attention followed Yara as she boarded the ship, and despite the distance, you could make out the way they all greeted her with a clasp on the shoulder, pat on the back, or smack on the bottom. The corners of your mouth turned up at the raw, unabashed display of admiration.

Shudders ran down your back and you ignored the way your stomach turned. For a moment, you thought about heading back to the castle. Nauseatingly, you thought about knocking on your sister's door and spilling these secrets to her and beg for direction, a command, anything.

Daenerys was the closest thing you had to a mother, and the urge to crawl into her arms and wait for guidance on this troubling issue consumed you as it always had, but you were a woman now, a delicate one, but blossomed and bled nonetheless, and you had witnessed your own sister's call to these womanly urges, and it was incredibly reminiscent of this pull you felt to the Ironborn Queen.

Your mind wandered back to your arrival this morning.

"It has been so long since I've returned," you said to Daenerys as you marveled over the aged walls of Pyke. Your hand danced across the slotted stone, digging your finger into chipped areas and rubbing your thumb against the in-between space.

Daenerys smiled knowingly, hands clasped softly in front of her. Missendei, Tyrion, and Greyworm trailed closely behind.

"How long has it been?" You murmured, mostly to yourself.

"Not since before the war, my lady," Tyrion added, and you turned to him, nodding with a solemn smile.

"It has been nearly that long since I have seen the rest of the Greyjoys, as well. Not since Theon."

Tyrion and Daenerys nod respectfully, reminiscing on Theon's death and the bravery that presumed it. A small silence ensued.

"I never understood how you have adapted so well to this cold, my lady," Missendei said, sweetly cutting the silence.

"She is a dragon," Daenerys replied, reaching out to brush a bit of her sister's hair back into place. "She provides her own warmth."

The throne room was modest in size but exuberant in its carvings, luxurious enough to suggest status but rugged enough to represent the people it ruled. You couldn't help but admire it all, it being so vastly different from the outright lushness of Mereen or even Dragonstone.

Of course, the architecture was not the only thing you were interested in. You turned your attention to the throne, and immediately stopped. Your sister continued for only a few steps more, taking her place in front of you.

"Yara," Daeneyrs greeted with a warm smile.

Yara strutted forward with an unmatched level of confidence, and you couldn't help but stare at the way her leather tunic hugged her strong shoulders. You were used to Yara not dressing like any other lady you had known, but couldn't help but always think the natural defiance in her pants and boots exuded power and self-assurance. Yara looked somehow more bold and stronger than you had ever seen her, and it was admirable in an unfamiliar, indescribable way.

"My queen," Yara bowed in her own way, a half-smirk ever-present, "It is an honor."

The two clasped arms, and Daenerys smiled before turning to you.

"I'm sure you remember my little sister, Princess Y/N."

Yara's attention followed, and you couldn't help the way you held your breath and stared up at her with widened eyes. It was like you were seeing her for the first time.

"Princess Y/N."

Yara said your name like she was trying it on, but in truth she had always used formalities in this way, especially towards you. In your aw-stricken mind, you'd like to think that her gaze softened a bit. She had never looked at you like this before.

"Your return has been long-awaited."

She outstretched her hand, and you took it with both of your hands, feeling yourself relax into it. Your eyes watered a bit, and you squeezed, unable to avoid the way you beamed up at her.

"I have missed the islands dearly."

Your sister had given in to her own desires, and she had lived to tell the tale. Perhaps you would too.

The ground seemed to push you towards the ship, and by the time your eyes unglossed and you regained clarity, you found yourself standing at the base of the footway. You of course had been on many vessels that belonged to the Iron Fleet, and you knew the people on board rather well, but you couldn't help but feel nervous now. These men were rather drunk, and you knew you probably should have an escort this late. Not even status could always safeguard a lady from the hands of depravity and sin. Stupidly, you grabbed on to the ropes of the ramp and pulled yourself aboard.

Immediately the overwhelming stench of ale and piss cause you to wrinkle your nose.

"Gods above," you whispered to yourself. Though you had been quiet, the sailors very quickly took notice of your presence.

"Princess!" one called, waving at you with his mug of ale. It sloshed over the sides and splashed, narrowly missing you. The men around him jokingly scolded him.

"Come on Ravos, you don't want to ruin her dress," a dark haired, stout man called Yohn slurred.

"Don't look like she's wearing much of a dress to me."

The men turned to you once more, and your ears burned, now with a much more uncomfortable feeling as they eyed you. One coughed and shifted on his feet.

You wrapped your robe tighter, straightening yourself up like you had been taught. You narrowed your eyes slightly, and responded directly to Ravos.

"Where can I find Yara?" You asked, hoping you exuded more authority than the piece of meat you felt like.

Reacting much more appropriately, he turned and pointing towards the North end of the ship.

"Captain's quarters," he grunted, avoiding eye contact.

You nodded, and the fifteen or so men stumbled backwards to allow for a path.

Carefully you stepped over puddles of questionable substances and shards of glass, maintaining as much grace and fierceness as you could muster. Behind you, the men resumed their activities, seemingly already over the drunken encounter. You knocked once on the Captain's door, before hurriedly slipping inside, eager to escape the sailors.

As you shut the door and turned to face her, you had to carefully force out a normal respiration rate. Yara was propped up in her chair with her boots resting on the desk, holding her own stein, though her sobriety seemed much more intact.

"Hello, princess."

Yara didn't bother hiding her surprise. She set her stein down and dropped her arms to the ends of her arm rest. A smirk creeped across her face, and she leaned her head back as she very obviously eyed you up and down, legs spreading a bit for a better view. Despite her brute persona, she did seem to try to hide the way she stuttered over the V of your robe.

You noticed anyways.

"A little far from the dressing room, are we?" She nodded at your outfit. You blushed and nodded with a smile. She smiled back and sat up. "You should know better than to walk around alone at night like that, especially here."

"I'm not alone now," you replied softly. Here in the candlelight, she was able to see you fully.

Yara took notice of the way you wrung your hands together, the way your eyes were glued to the loose laces of her tunic, the rose hue of your cheeks and ears, and your long, snow-white hair falling in loose curls around you.

Yara had known you for half a decade at this point. When she first met you, you were a scrawny, timid little girl who watched from Daeneyrs's shadow. To be fair, you were still quite shy, but you were a woman now, not nearly the little bird of a lady that you used to be. Now, in the warm lighting, she could see that these days you were more of a snow leopard than a cub, and you looked almost regal.

For a moment, Yara wondered what you would look like on the throne instead of your sister. Her hands squeezed at her chair at the idea, and she concluded that that was an image that would inspire millions.

Yara's eyes returned to your face, recomposing her commanding demeanor. She shrugged and stood, traipsing leisurely towards you.

Your eyes' followed each other, studying the other until they met. Yara had never looked at you this way, not that you could recall, and the curiosity in her face sent a thrill down your spine and fueled your ego.

"Oh, but I am as much as of a predator as any man out there, princess," Yara countered.

Peculiarly, you stepped forward, taking Yara by surprise at this newfound confidence. She watched you, and noticed something lurking behind your irises, something Yara was very familiar with and could feel exuding off of your body, but ten fold. She knew why you had come.

"And I am a dragon," You murmured, meeting her eyes without hesitation. Up close, you looked even more feral than before, with the sea spray making a wild mess of your hair, and each rock of the boat interrupting your breaths.

Yara backed up to sit on the edge of her desk, and you followed, keeping the distance small but not yet close enough. Yara waited for you to make a move with unusual patience. You raised your hand to caress the open area of her shirt with your palm, then push it aside just a few inches to trace her collarbone with your index and middle finger.

"Are you scared of dragons, Yara?"

"Anyone in their bloody right mind is scared of dragons," she replied, watching your hand as her breathing grew heavy. You giggled, reaching your hand around to cup the space between her ear and neck, letting your thumb rub her jaw.

"Are you scared of me?" You spoke quietly, like it was a secret meant to be kept safe between the two of you.

"I'm hungry for you," she growled, eyes heavy with desire. You felt your core throb in an entirely new way, letting out a small whimper at the feeling.

Finally, Yara reached out, hand splaying across your lower back, where she could finally feel that the robe was the only thing preserving your modesty, and she could've fainted at the realization.

"I've never been with a dragon before," Yara confessed, halfway a joke, yet halfway entirely all too true. You brought up her other hand to truly cup her face, bring her attention to you.

"I've never been with anyone before," You whispered, and for a second Yara could see that familiar timidness she knew of you flicker between the lust clouding your vision. "You are the only person I've ever wanted."

Yara let out a small noise at this. "Then you must be starved."

You nodded, eyes falling to her lips.

"Can I?"

"Please."

The first thing Yara noticed was how warm you are. Your lips against hers were like fire, and your soft whimpers made her want to crawl inside the flames and be burnt alive. You practically fell against her, knees going week, but she grasped you with both hands and held you up.

This alone was like nothing you had ever experienced. Your ears rung from the intensity and your nails dug into Yara's skin ever so slightly, illiciting a gasp from her that you greedily swallowed.

Yara reached back with one hand, pushing herself off to stand, keeping you slotted between her legs. She turned you both, pushing you against the desk until you were sitting atop it now. You raked your hands over her shirt, grasping at it and pulling her as close as you could. Yara put her hands between you and undid the tie to your robe, hurriedly pulling it off your shoulders. She reached under your thighs, lifting you up by them and letting the robe fall on to the floor.

As Yara angled you on to the desk, you propped your arms behind yourself, baring your legs to her. She paused, staring at your bare form and licked her lips.

"Gods below," she growled, running her hands up your body. You shivered as they danced over your thighs and ghosted over your breasts. "You're fucking stunning."

Yara pushed back between your legs. The warmth of her skin against yours and the cold leather of her pants pressing against your bare sex made you moan. Yara shoved her hand back behind your back and laid you down flat.

"Such a pretty cunt," she whispered, tracing her thumb over you. You gasped at the touch, and watched as she brought it up.

"Do you know what this is, sweet girl?" Yara watched the way the wetness glistened on her finger, and you nodded your head.

She grinned, then brought her thumb to her mouth and sucked it clean. You whimpered at the sight, nearly panting now in desperation.

She leaned down to kiss to you and forced her tongue into your mouth. You moaned at the feeling and at the taste, grabbing on to the back of her head and pushing back with your own tongue. Yara groaned into your mouth and grabbed you by the neck, deepening the kiss, if that was even possible.

Yara's scent and touch and taste consumed you, feeding into every one of your senses and bleaching them until all that was left was her.

Finally, Yara put her hand against your chest and pushed you back against the desk.

"Be a good girl and open your legs a bit more for me," she commanded, and without a single underlying thought, you obeyed, gasping at the way your stomach turned at the petname. You watched with slightly parted lips, panting, as Yara sunk to her knees, staring into your eyes so intensely that you couldn't even think about looking away.

She settled between your legs and brought her hands to rest up on your thighs, just in case. You pushed up on your elbows, trying to see what she was going to do, when she pressed a firm kiss to your sex. You groaned, cheeks going pink, and Yara reacted similarly.

She kissed again, this time open mouthed, and gently sucked on your growing bud. You could feel your cunt pulsing, and your thighs quivered around Yara's head, but she held firm.

She licked stripes around your clit, teasing you before giving it a direct swipe that had you balling your fists and curling your toes.

"Yara!" You gasped, perhaps a little too loudly, because the voices outside of the room suddenly quieted. You froze, looking down at her in panic, but she didn't share the same concern.

Instead, Yara chuckled, murmured your own name against your cunt almost tauntingly, and without any warning, eased her tongue inside of you. Your whole body stuttered, and you slammed your hand against the desk. Yara gripped your legs even tighter and repeated the motion, and you couldn't find it in you to keep quiet, not with the way Yara was working you like she was eating her last meal.

"Fuck," you groaned, back arching. You head fell back, curls falling with it, and Yara swore she had never seen anything more stunning or satisfying. Yara's own cunt throbbed impossibly hard, but she continued her merciless assault, drawing curse after curse from you, until Yara was certain the men outside knew exactly what was going on and with whom.

Yara stood and pulled your hips closer to the edge of the desk. Holding you by your hips, she rocked her hips against your core, and you gasped at the new sensation. You grabbed her shoulder, holding yourself up.

Yara cradled your face with one hand, and you buried yourself in her arm, ear pressed against her chest, whining and whimpering. She pressed kisses into your neck, nipping at it and bruising it. Slowly, Yara stopped her hips, and just as you started to get question it, she spoke.

"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?" She teased, and you cried out, nodding desperately into her arm. Yara laughed, and then when you felt her middle and ring finger prodded at your entrance, you clenched down, gasping.

"Relax, sweetheart," she whispered, kissing right behind your ear. "I'm going to take good care of you."

You shuddered against her, but tried your best to settle down. Yara started pushing in again, and you clenched again out of instinct, this time clamping down on her fingers. She groaned into your ear.

"You're so tight," she whispered, and you pulsed around her fingers, whining. Once she was entirely inside, Yara curled her fingers, and your whole body reacted.

Your legs wrapped around her, holding her in place, and your fingers dug into her lower back while you saw stars. You bit down on her arm, at least still attempting to keep quiet, and Yara moaned loudly. When you finally loosened you grip on her arm, she pulled your face back by your hair.

"Does that feel good?" She whispered against your lips, and you panted, pressing kisses between each breath.

"Yes, y-yes," You cried out, and she pressed a knowing kiss to your temple.

"I'm going to move them," she warned, and you nodded, eyes glassed over and lips parted. She kissed your fiercely, then held eye contact as she started pumping her fingers. You groaned loudly, then started moving your hips to meet her hand. As your body adjusted to the foreign feeling, you grew confident.

The sound coming from it was obscene, and you pulled Yara down to sloppily kiss her. Yara pushed harder, and so did you. Soon, you developed a rythym, and you could feel a pressure building up in your stomach. Yara glanced down at her hand, then back up at you, eyes unbelievably filled with even more lust. You followed her gaze and practically melted at the sight.

Thick, hot cream spilled out of you and on to Yara's hand, and gods above, her hand was huge. Her palm practically framed your whole cunt, and the sight made you dizzy.

Yara flicked her thumb over your clit, and you choked, grabbing her neck to hold you up from falling backwards. Your whole spine tingled, and your vision started to blur.

"Y-Yara, I'm," you gasped, but you weren't entirely sure what was going on. "I'm, I think I'm gonna -"

"Cum, sweetheart," Yara groaned. "You're going to cum for me." She pumped her fingers harder, and you sobbed into her arms, feeling your stomach ball up tighter, tighter, tighter, and then burst.

You screamed into her shoulder as your cunt gushed over her hand, and Yara moaned your name into your ear at the feeling. Your hips stuttered, but Yara kept pumping until you were shaking uncontrollably and babbling nonsense. Then, she eased out of you.

She tilted your head up with one hand, then brought the other soiled one between the two of you. You looked up with watery eyes and red cheeks, and watched as Yara licked your cum off of a few of her fingers. Then, she prodded your lips with the remaining two, and you opened your mouth, accepting it gratefully.

You pushed her fingers farther and farther down your throat, chasing that high and letting the bittersweet flavor swirl and cloud your taste and mind. You looked up at Yara through wet lashes, and she swore she could've creamed herself.

"Fucking hell," she groaned, and pulled her fingers out of your mouth, worried you'd probably suffocate yourself on them if she let you work at them any more.

You coughed and gasped, and regained your breath just before she pressed a firm kiss against your mouth. When she pulled away, you stared at her with wide eyes and she panted down at you. You couldn't pull a single word to say off your tongue.

She kissed your temple, then the side of your head, and rested her forehead against yours. "Gods below, are you sure that was your first time?"

You nodded breathlessly, swallowing thickly.

"You fuck like a-"

"- I want to do it again."

Yara pulled back, studying your face. Her face was expressionless, and for a moment during the silence, you were worried you had angered her, or somehow shamed her skill. Then, the corners of her mouth curved into a smirk.

"You want to do it again?" She asked, tilting her head until her lips were almost slotted against yours. You nodded your head.

"Is that okay?" You asked, no shyness left to spare.

Yara laughed loudly and kissed you. She stepped away, running her hands through her hair.

"Yes, fucking absolutely," she assured. She reached down and grabbed your robe. "But not in here, I have other things to show you."

You quickly got dressed. Your body shook, so Yara helped you with it extensively, and kept you steady. You looked up at her quizzically. "Other things like what?"

She grinned wickedly before pulling you up into her arms, one arm under yours and the other under your knees.

"You'll see, princess," she assured.

In her brutish style, Yara kicked open the door to her quarter's. The soldiers remaining on deck went absolutely silent, staring at the two of you with both terrified and amused expressions.

Yara coughed loudly and you buried your face into her shoulder to hide your embarrassment.

"If you gentleman will excuse me, me and the lady are going to retire for the night."

[fandomnerd9602]

Asha and Y/N confront King Magnifico…

Magnifico: what’s your grandfather’s wish?

Asha: to inspire people with song

Magnifico: t-that could inspire people to rise up and destroy my kingdom

Y/N: that’s kind of a stretch, sir

Magnifico: sorry?

Y/N: why not put a proviso of good inspiration?

Magnifico: oh…that’s good. Asha, I shall grant your grandfather’s wish!

Asha: thank you!

Magnifico: Y/N what was your wish?

Asha hugs Y/N…

Y/N: oh I already got mine

[ashasdiary]

Hairstylist

Pairing: Geto Suguru x fem!reader Synopsis: Geto shows you his skills when it comes to hair. CW: pet names, established relationship, fluff WC: 673 A/N: I want him to do my hair 🥺

Geto had always been great at styling hair. He’d had his own long locks to style since being a teen, then he used Gojo as his model for a while. 

Then, with the entry of Nanako and Mimiko into his life, he’d become more skilled, and more careful too. Those two little girls were his world, and he found that one of his favourite things to do was style their hair for them. 

They’d take turns, sitting down between his legs as he braids their hair lovingly, twisting it this way and that, and making cute hairstyles for them with the most adorable accessories.

Even when they grew up more, it was mutually enjoyable for them to style his hair and him to style theirs. 

When you came into his life, you hadn’t expected that side to him. 

He was a big physical touch guy (his top love languages were quality time and physical touch) but you didn’t think that there would be more to him toying with your hair one evening while you were lying together on the couch. 

You thought he’d just been twirling your strands around his long, slender fingers, because he was so gentle, but little did you know, he had made a neat little braid out of it. 

When it fell into your face, your brows furrowed a little, “Wh…Sugu, did you do this?” You turn your head to him while he’s spooning you. 

“Mmhmm,” he nods. 

“When?!” You laugh a little, surprised. 

“Just now,” he chuckles. 

“I didn’t even feel it… you were so gentle,” you awe. 

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he shrugs with a small smile, and you gaze up at him intently. 

“Do tell,” you turn your body fully and relax as you watch him and wait for him to explain. 

He smiles a little, bashful, “Well, first it was my own hair. Then Gojo’s. Then Nanako and Mimiko. The girls really loved going to school with different hairstyles, so I learned.”

“That’s so sweet…and impressive. Will you do my hair as well?” You ask.

“Of course…I was going to ask you one of these days, actually, but I’d love to,” he presses a chaste peck to your lips, completely content with you. 

So that’s how you ended up in the bathroom together, with him gently combing your hair. 

“Do you want me to sit down?” You ask as you gaze at him through the mirror. 

“No, it’s alright. You’re a shortcake. We’ll be fine standing,” he answers and throws you a wink. You let out a playful scoff at the nickname he’d chosen for you.  

“Meanie,” you pout. He laughs a little as he sections your hair with clips. 

“You love it,” he grins at you. 

“Maybe,” you mumble. You both laugh together and then fall quiet as he works so expertly. Not once do you feel any discomfort, of him pulling or tugging on your hair. You’re in awe of how skilled he is. 

He pulls out some hairspray, mousse, gel and various combs from the cabinet and uses appropriate amounts of product. He’d put your hair in a beautiful messy bun, sectioned so there’s a slicked back side part that frames your face a little.  Once he’s done, you smile to yourself and bite your lip.

“There— wait, just one more thing,” he tugs free a strand, mirroring his own, and grins. “Done.”

You turn and look at it in the mirror and you let out a soft gasp. “Sugu! This is so pretty…! We have to go out now. I refuse to go to bed without enjoying my hair like this.”

He lets out a small chuckle from your enthusiasm to enjoy your hair. He circles his arms from behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder as you look at each other in the mirror. 

“It looks good on you, shortcake," he smiles.

“I love it. Thank you, sugarboo,” you kiss his cheek once, twice, then he turns his head to capture your lips with his. 

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

Divider by cafekitsune

[luna-writes-stuff]

Just rewatched the entirety of the Hobbit saga and then I realised; ‘I wrote a whole ass fanfic series containing every little detail in the dwarven story line that is captured within these 9 hours’, so yeah, I couldn’t help but make at least one new meme post.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, last year I finished my Kili X OC fanfic series! And it’s free to read right here on this hellsite! You can find it in the main masterlist on my pinned post <3

[axelsagewrites]

Pls write some more yara Greyjoy either fluff or smut. I love your fanfics so much 😌

Yara Greyjoy*Flirting

Pairing: Yara x f!targ!reader

Word count: 645

Warnings: none

Masterlist here

You were the youngest of your siblings and it made Danny cling to you. She made sure to protect you, never leaving your side until she was sure you were safe. It had left you a little sheltered to say the least, not that she’d ever let anyone tell you that.

Recently she’d started bringing you to council meetings and when she met with ambassadors. The latest person to request her presence was none other than Yara Greyjoy. Her eyes were focused on the queen, a slight smirk edging onto the outskirts of her lips as she spoke.

You tried to listen to the words, but you couldn’t help but be distracted be her. you had been taught beauty was in dresses, silks, and jewels by your brother, but Yara was beautiful like a dragon. Her leather trousers framed her legs perfectly, her shoulders broad and strong, and her eyes looked like they held the knowledge of the world.

“And I imagine your offer is free of any marriage demands?” your sisters voice brought you back into reality.

Yara’s lips quirked into a smirk, “I never demand,” she started, her eyes lazily falling to you, “but I’m for anything really,” she said, drawing her eyes back to your sister but there was already a hot blush scolding your cheeks.

You were stood beside Danny, but you didn’t need to see her face to know she wore her own smirk. You tried to be calm, keep unnoticed for the rest of the discussion but after asking for independence you couldn’t help but retort after Tyrion spoke, “What if everyone starts demanding their independence?”

“She’s not demanding. She’s asking,” you said, your voice soft but the fact you spoke at all caught them both off guard. Danny turned to you, raising a single eyebrow. You glanced back towards the Ironborn siblings and back to your own, giving a single nod back. it was all you had to do for Danny to know your position and Tyrion to be reminded of his.

-

Later that evening you were heading towards the hall for dinner when you felt someone’s hand grab your arm. Your head wiped around, eyes wide, only to be met with a smirk. “I’m sorry princess. I did not mean to startle you,” Yara said, her smirk smalling into a soft smile as she looked down at your dress, “I like the fabric. I was never one for frills,”

“I wasn’t either. Till recently at least,”

She chuckled a little, “I’ve only heard snippets about you, but I can imagine your story must be quite interesting,” her eyes were so captivating that the world around you seemed to stop.

“Hardly,” you laughed softly, “Yours though I imagine must be fascinating. I admire a woman who can take charge,” you said but your eyebrows furrowed when she laughed suddenly before realising, “I did not mean- “you tried to object when you realised the double meaning of your phrase.

Yara just chuckled, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “Don’t worry princess. I know exactly what you mean,” she said before pulling away, smiling at the hot flush on your face, “Now I was wondering if I may have the honour of escorting you to dinner? After all I’d hate for you to get hurt on the way to the festivities,” she said, holding out her arm to you.

You smiled and took it, trying your best to avoid her eye and the playful glint in it, “For the record I’d be able to make the journey alone,” you said, not wanting to sound weak to your newfound crush.

A smile peaked onto her lips, “I don’t doubt that princess. Though its good to know you enjoy my company,” she teased.

You felt your skin burn but you managed to smile back at her this time, “Maybe so,”

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[a-libra-writes]

Uuugghhh i misclicked and deleted a post i was working on......... I still remember the prompt but 💀😫 OG request was ASOIAF characters reacting to their s/o surviving an assassination attempt, another nonny wanted something similar, so I combined!

Obvs there will be mentions of blood, angst, and so on! We got: Cersei, Jaime, Tywin, Tyrion, Asha (Yara), Victarion, Brandon, Ned, Benjen, Brynden, Oberyn, Doran, Brienne

Cersei - Woe to the messenger who brings this news to her; the only thing worse about Cersei finding out is her finding out days after it happens. She's livid, and has no shortage of people to blame and suspect. The idea that this attempt is the consequence of her own machinations and manipulations does not to occur to her, or at least - she quickly shoves that thought aside.

She has her sick room moved closer to her own, and threatens the hell out of Pycelle to ensure a speedy recovery. The maids are threatened as well, though eventually Cersei's paranoia whittles them down to just one or two. She visits when you're awake, and either fusses over your comfort or doggedly acts as though everything is fine and you'll be up in no time - even if you're still sickly and wan. Yes, there's ... some denial there, and in rare moments, the facade and denial will melt, and Cersei will express genuine fear that you may have died.

Jaime - There's several minute of disbelief when he hears what happened. Then the anger rushes over him at once - who did it? And where was he to defend you? Then suspicion. Could his sister have found out about you two? Jaime ought to wait until it's safe to visit you, when he can't be seen - but he's never been good at fighting his whims.

Once at your side, he's clearly anxious and discomforted at how tired and sickly you look. His usual flippant, sarcastic front only lasts a few minutes. He gives in, his shoulders slump and you can see the clear anxiety and anger in his bright green eyes. He comes into your chambers every other day, but you aren't aware how often he hovers around the door and hall, eager for the assassin to come again so he might kill them with his own hands.

Tywin - Any attempt on your life was almost certainly meant to send a message to him. That's how he'll always see it, anyway, and Tywin will answer swiftly. He'll probably mutilate or execute your poor excuses for guards, and the maester understands your recovery will go well or he'll be next on the chopping block. Next, he draws up his mental lists of suspects and cuts through them. Tywin Lannister will find out who did this. There's no uncertainty of that.

That said, he doesn't visit the first few days of your recovery - both because of the investigating he's spending late hours on, and because he genuinely doesn't want to see you in such a weak, uneasy state. He isn't willing to admit this to himself, of course, but it brings back memories of Joanna. He'd be more affected if you were stabbed versus if you were poisoned; the blood, the bandages, your pale complexion and low energy all point to the very obvious fact you nearly died, and that would have affected the normally immovable, cruel Lannister patriarch. He doesn't like reminders that he's mortal.

Tyrion - Panic and dread starts bubbling up once he hears the news and really processes it. Tyrion wants to see you right away, even if you're in no state to see visitors for a while. He already has a shortlist of possible culprits, his sister being at the top. He makes sure it's a maester he trusts whose helping your recovery, one of your personal maids he knows whose caring for you, a few guards he pays personally and knows well ... It may seem like a bit much to you, but for Tyrion, it isn't enough. He's still riddled with anxiety and worry that whoever did it will send another assassin to finish the job.

He does his best to be reassuring and light-hearted when he visits, not wanting to trouble you with all the thoughts plaguing him. He likes to bring flowers and books and such, things to brighten your day and occupy you. Tyrion tries to float the idea of moving you to a private manor rather than the Red Keep.

Asha - She's alternating between a quiet fury and outright anger, snapping at this maester and that servant to handle you better. She might push them aside and just do it herself; she can certainly stitch a wound closed, though poison is beyond her. Oh, she has a good idea of who might have done this, but that's for later. First priority is getting your guts back in place and making sure there's some kind of medicine or disinfectant in these islands.

She investigates into who the culprit might be, but still takes time to visit you in the evening. She knows you'll pull through, you're strong - but what kind of lover would she be if she didn't check in and bother you? Asha alternates between a rare tenderness and her usual light heartened jokes, whichever works best on cheering you up.

Victarion - So. The good news is he didn't kill the messenger. The bad news is he's close to strangling the maester that was dragged in to treat you. Victarion has no way of figuring out who did this or how, so anyone is open to his wrath. He might eventually have suspicions, but it'll be his brothers and Asha who will do most of the investigating (if they bother). This rattles Victarion more than he's willing to admit.

It's difficult to visit when you're incoherent and pale, so he waits until you're more stable, even if all these negative emotions bite at him. There's anxiety, fear, powerlessness; all things he's worked to avoid and outrun. He probably doesn't even admit how badly he'd shaken. When you're finally awake and talking, that lessens some of the burden. Then he can pretend you're completely fine, and you'll recover quickly. He doesn't want to linger in the sickroom, so he just has you moved to your shared bedchambers. .... Probably for the best, since they get cleaned more often.

Brandon - He's beside himself with anger and worry. How did this happen? Weren't his best guards with you? Who was the culprit - was this a ploy to get to him? Intrigue is not his strong suit; he can't bruteforce his way through this, and it's beyond frustrating - it's just painful. He wants a culprit so he has someone to throttle.

Brandon makes sure you're as comfortable. He may not know much about treating wounds, but he knows you're in pain and wants to help in any way he can. This leads to him hovering too much, and the maester has had to kick him out so you can get rest. You're supposed to be recovering in the sickroom, but Brandon still wants to sleep next to you. It's half paranoia that something might happen again, and half he doesn't want you to be lonely. Yes, he's the actual lonely one ...

Ned - It takes a few hours, perhaps a day, for the reality of what happened to sink in ... and then the dread and anger follows. He keeps these emotions inside, of course, wanting to focus on who could have done this and why. Was it because of his own doing, or was this assassin after you specifically? He's never been one to uncover and follow schemes, and that shortcoming is especially obvious and frustrating now.

But when he visits your sickbed, Ned tries to push all that aside. He wants to make sure you're recovering and cared for, and while he follows the maester's instructions, he's also willing to go against them for your comfort, like if you want to be moved to back to your shared bedchambers. It's hard for Ned to deny you anything to begin with, he is absolutely going to let you curl up with him because it helps you feel better and safer, wounds be damned.

Benjen - The solemnity that comes over his long face startles his fellow Brothers. Of course this is no laughing matter, but the dark cloud that passes over his features and makes those grey eyes look so cold is startling. He wants to go beyond the Wall immediately and kill whoever did it, but he knows that's foolish. He has to grit his teeth and wait, because they'll surely send more.

He focuses on taking care of you. While they do have Maester Aemond, the old man's eyes make it tricky to do any kind of surgery. When you're awake and recovering, Benjen does his best to give you his soft smiles and usual jokes, though they're more muted than before. He hopes you don't notice how tired and anxious he's feeling. He tries to avoid assignments that'll send him away from Castle Black, and he sneaks into your sick room to sleep beside you whenever he can get away with it.

Brynden - The very cowardice of the act boils his blood. Whoever wanted to do this to you should have gone through him - he hates that he wasn't there when you needed him. Hasn't Brynden always said he'd protect you? If the attempt was done with poison, he's even more bitter. It's easy to get you the care you need, but he's still troubled, sitting at your bedside and wearing a troubled expression that doesn't go away until you wake up.

He tries to smile and comfort you, but his anger at the situation is obvious. When he's not out investigating what happened, he's at your side. He's keeping you company and playing "a poor nurse", so he says, but you know it's also to keep you protected. He comes in with full armor and his sword, after all. You sense he isn't sleeping well, either; he'd rather spend the late hours guarding you as you sleep.

Oberyn - It's not surprising that he reacts with anger. Oberyn would've been right there at your side, wanting to stop the bleeding himself, carrying you all the way to the maester while barking at guards to sweep the area. He'd go out on his own in a heartbeat, but assuring you're stable comes first. The minute you were, though - he's gone, spear in hand and wanting to find out what happened. Between himself and Doran, the assassin - or at least whoever hired them - can't stay anonymous for long.

While you're recovering, he does all he can for you. Do you want a dozen pillows, plenty of flowers, books, music? Company or none? Any food or drink - even if the maester cautions against specific ones - will be your's. Oberyn spares no expense, the guilt and anger he feels at "letting" this happen assuaged just slightly every time he grants a request. He prefers you be moved to your shared bedchambers rather than a sick room, both so he can protect you and so you don't feel so isolated.

Doran - His schooled, calm expression finally cracks when he hears the news. He wants to get up at once, to rush to the messenger and shake them, but he has to compose himself. Doran knows these things happen, and he already has clear suspicions of whose responsible, but that doesn't help his racing mind. He waits until the maester has done his job and you're stable before visiting you - for one, he has to calm himself, and two, he has to act fast if he hopes to retaliate.

Doran makes sure you have the utmost comfort while you recover, much like his brother, though he's not nearly as over-indulgent. He often spends time with you in your sickroom, reading you stories or just talking while holding your hand and petting your hair. He has a wonderful bedside manner helped by his steady presence and voice; it's near impossible to pick up the anger and injustice he's feeling. He doesn't want to subject his paramour to that. You should just focus on resting.

Brienne - She feels a terrible chill come over her, and then the adrenaline. She jumps to action. If the assassin is foolish enough to attempt it while Brienne is within shouting distance - they're dead, period, she will not let them escape after they did such a thing. But if it was poison, or a near-fatal wound - she may have to just to get you help. She gathers you up in her arms and easily carries you to help, shouting for a maester or healer, regardless of it was the middle of the night or day. She'll drag one out of a castle if need be.

Brienne wants to sit in while you're being treated, but she knows she shouldn't. She's stewing in anxiety and worry, wondering if she could've done something differently. Once you're awake and stable, it's like a weight has been lifted off. She still has plans for the assassin if they weren't caught - but first, she needs to focus on you. The adrenaline finally runs out once she hears your voice and has your hand to hold. She's so relieved she could just crash next to you, but no, you need her to be steady and strong.

[artdont-sell]

He is really gorgeous!!!

[atierrorian]

Okay, so, I have another writing concept!!

So if any of you guys know about Wish, the 100th anniversary for Disney then that's great! If you don't, then liked mentioned, it is the 100th anniversary for Disney. Anyways, I was a bit disappointed when I first watched it because I was kinda expecting more from Disney and I was more disappointed when I saw and heard about the early concepts it had before.

Like, we could have had a love story between Star boy and Asha?? A couple Villain? And so much more! Plus, the characters were bland...

But let's move that aside for now since I'm getting out of topic. My idea is for Twisted Wonderland! (Wow! Shocker!) Wish x Twst where Mc is Asha and the one of the Twst character is Star boy! I haven't thought of who just yet but you guys can help me pick out a character for that!

The plot for Wish was also pretty boring so my idea was to freshen it up a bit and make a little bit more unique from the original plot! (Disney had so many opportunities to make it original and special for their anniversary) And by the way I'm no professional at this! I'm merely stating my opinion!

But what do you guys think? I think this is an interesting concept and I have so much more ideas! But I do want to know your opinion on the matter as well!

[thehumansnail]

King Magnifico X Reader

Pt2: The contract: You’ve woken up in bed with The King, now it’s time to discuss business.

Warning: Implied relationship😂 👀 open relationship? idk read on~

You stared in awe of the sleeping king. The way his head rested against the pillow, made a blush grow on your cheeks. He held you close, not tight but snug enough you couldn’t escape his cuddle. You thought he was beautiful before but something about his resting face made you want to kiss him. Suddenly all the memories of the previous night rushed to your head. You had done alot more then just kiss him-

You smiled leaning forward about to kiss him when his eyes opened. The smirk that was instantly on his face gave you shivers as he spoke.

“Good morning,Sweetness.” The king said, placing a kiss to your nose. You stared still a bit star struck. You felt him pull you close into his chest and could hear his soft breath above you. You nuzzled into his chest blushing slightly at the close contact of your naked bodies.

“Good morning my king..” you mumbled to him. He laughed a bit before kissing your forehead. You looked at him, seeing the smile on his face. The way those shiny blue eyes looked at you made you feel like there was no one else in the world.

“you know, I’m surprised your still h-here..” you stuttered out your last word afraid if you said it the king would leave. He chuckled and shook his head.

“If I left you how would I know our contact would hold up?” He said as he now moved to sit on the bed away from the love bubble you had created.

“The contract?”

“Yes! We made a deal after all that you’d be my apprentice. You can’t just leave after having your wish granted after all, you were announced as my apprentice after all.”

The king's words felt heavy as you now sat up. Of course, there was some kind of condition for your wish. “So…what is the contract exactly?”

“Well, you’d study under me and be my actual apprentice. You’ll also have my attention when you wish, whatever type of attention it may be.”

You smiled a bit at the thought of having a king at your beck and call. You couldn’t help but blush at the thought of being with him but it suddenly raised questions. “What about your wife? I’m sure Queen Amaya wouldn’t enjoy you sleeping with your apprentice.”

“Well,that’s another part of our contract. Sweetness, you’ll be talking with Amaya today and she’ll tell you all about her side of the arrangement.” Magnifico smiled as he scoffed towards the end of the bed. Suddenly you couldn’t help taking in the room around you.

The room had a Domed ceiling showing off a lovely painting of the stars and constellations. A The dome was held up by pillars decorated to look like shooting stars falling from the sky above. The details looked to be hand painted and golden foiled.

“This room is so pretty, my house in the village looks nothing like this.” You said gazing around the room and then down to the king sized bed that you laid in. A sigh left your lips as your hands touched the silky fabrics.

“Mi Amour, You’ll have to get used to it. After all this is your bedroom.” The king smiled “as the king’s apprentice you get a room in the palace, a personal chef and your own funds.”

Your eyes widened “so what your saying is I get to learn magic, have amazing sex and live in luxury??”

Magnifico bursted into laughter before he nodded his head. “I guess you can say that yes. Now come on y/n, up and at up! You need to get dressed and ready to meet with the queen.” he said as he placed a kiss on your cheek. He had already gotten himself fully dressed and was now picking up your clothing.

Once you were dressed, it seemed the king disappeared. You exited the room that had now been yours to find queen Amaya talking with her husband. You gulped a bit before approaching the two of them.

She gave you a warm smile “ah! Y/n, you're here! I was wondering when the contract would start.” You looked a bit confused before she grabbed your arm, locking you both side by side. You blushed a bit embarrassed before the king smiled and walked away.

You walked quietly arm and arm with the queen. She noticed your nerves and decided to speak.

“So, I know you slept with my husband.” She said calmly and you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

“Ah- y-yes I did do that didn’t I?” You replied as your voice seemed to shake. The queen laughed a bit at your words before she smiled warmly.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly okay. Magnifico and myself have a small deal. Which brings us to your contract.” She smiled and handed a paper over to you.

You took the paper and began reading…

“ Y/N Fletcher, Kings Apprentice.

Y/n , will receive a full suite, royalty card and personal chef in the palace. Along with these terms they will report daily to king Magnifico's study and at least once to Queen Amaya’s maid quarters.”

Report to the maid quarters? You looked up at the queen and she smiled. “Well, if your going to be assisting with Magnifico regularly, I’d appreciate it if you covered my handmaid's place while she is..” she cleared her throat and smiled “well, while she will be busy assisting me; if you understand.” Your eyes went a bit wide but of course you understood.

“So I don’t know if it’s my place to ask but, are you in an open relationship with the king?”

“Yes, we’ve done this for a few years now.” The queen said with a smile. “As long as our lovers are alright with the fact we’re taken.” The queen’s words made you feel a bit guilty. You had gotten so swept away with The King you hadn’t thought about her or her feelings.

“Yes my queen, I will stand by the contract.” You said with a smile and quickly started to scribble your signature.

[diabolical-asha]

a messy sketch of Dust from @/blinddreams24 Monster Under the Bed stories, specifically the first chapter with Dust

I just had to get this image out of my head! I can't wait for Nightmares chapter <3

[freakassfemme]

[i'll crawl home to her] pt 1: ser - yara greyjoy x brienne of tarth

Summary: Brienne of Tarth, after escaping the grasp of the Ironborn queen, finds herself wandering back to Yara Greyjoy instead of the safety offered to her at Winterfell.

Warnings: mature content, smut to come, drinking, f/f, lesbianism (but that's a blessing), implied hostage situation, canon divergent

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: THEY DIDN'T LET BRIENNE AND YARA FUCK BECAUSE THEY KNEW IT WOULD KILL ME! Anyways, I randomly thought of this, and it was going to be one part, but I decided to do a mini-fic and do like 2-3 parts, depending on my heart's desire. Happy reading :)

NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT

Not many men were able wrangle Brienne of Tarth. She was six feet and three inches of pure skill, and she carried the heart and honor of a warrior that often saved her when her strength could not.

This honor took her to the ends of the earth, wandering aimlessly, over and under and around and through every bit of trouble imaginable, yet she always emerged unscathed. But when the task was completed, all ends tied and everything said and done, Brienne would hesitate.

And wait.

And hesitate.

And wait.

She was nothing without a job.

So the soldier would make her home for the night in brothels and under trees. Occasionally, she would crawl into the arms of another knight just to find a warm bed or another task to busy her. She lived to serve, to be faithful to something or someone, and until she could find another lord to bend the knee for, she would wander.

Sometimes this wandering led to a fair bit of trouble.

Brienne wasn't entirely sure how she had gotten there that night that they met. Boats weren't really her thing - she was more favorable to the stability of land and a horse, so to anyone that asked, she had no idea what she was doing there, drunk and sword-to-throat with some Ironborn brute.

He was but a man, and so it was easy to pin him to the wall when he started to get a bit too handsy with her. Cockiness wasn't really something Brienne admired in a man. She would much rather a man shut the fuck up, if you would be so inclined to hear her say so, but this poor sailor hadn't heeded Brienne's warnings. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't really one for mercy this late at night.

Brienne had planned to hang him from the mast, in all honesty, and she would've gotten away with it, slipping into the night without a trace. Not many men could wrangle Brienne of Tarth.

But Yara Greyjoy was no man.

It was embarrassing to admit the raw force behind Yara's sword surprised Brienne caused her confidence to stutter, then her own sword. She had fallen much easier to Yara than she had any man, and perhaps that stirred something a bit more complex than shame within Brienne.

That was eight months ago, three months since she had escaped the grasp of the Ironborn queen, and only just a few weeks since she had safely saw Sansa Stark to Winterfell. And here she was once again, sitting in a tavern or brothel of sorts, ale in hand.

It wasn't that the men (or the women, for that matter) trying to seduce Brienne were particularly boring, but rather her mind was preoccupied with the leaving and the waiting, her heart had been skipping every other beat for hours, and she was fucking tired.

"Won't you stay?" Sansa asked, taking Brienne's hand between both of her own. "You would have a place here, you know."

Sansa had said it so earnestly, with so much devotion and promise in her eyes. Gods, she had looked just like Catelyn, and for a moment, Brienne saw the both of them swearing that oath all over again.

She saw it in the way Sansa smiled up at her with those lakes of eyes. The curve of Sansa's pink lips against her milky cheeks, the regality in her new robes -- watching over Sansa, caring for Sansa, loving Sansa... it was a future Brienne knew she would be happy in. It was the promise of a home. She would not have to roam Westeros any longer. Still, something lingered in the back of Brienne's mind that made her hesitate, as she always did.

It was a difficult offer to say no to, especially knowing the respect and security that came with staying with Sansa, the queen in the North. It had ripped at Brienne's heart, tore her throat raw with dryness. It was a solid deal, probably the best thing to ever happen to her, but it wasn't enough.

Brienne knew she was fucking herself over. Her selfishness would be the death of her. An offer like this was not easy to come by, especially for a woman knight. She was robbing herself of an easy, good life with a powerful woman who cared for her in a place where both of their presences were revered.

It had been difficult, but not impossible, to say no. But the guilt followed her out of Winterfell.

"Another one," Brienne said, slamming her pint on the table. She pushed her palms into her eyes, trying to rub out her exhaustion.

The man behind the bar looked at her curiously.

"Do y'have coin to pay for all this?" He asked, rubbing a glass with a towel in a rather stereotypical fashion. He was about twenty or so years older than her, but he looked down at her in almost disbelief, mockery playing on his lips as he took her in.

Brienne pulled her hands away and scoffed.

"What, do you think I'm trying to rob you?" She said, half joking, but it didn't quite reach the bartender. The man raised his eyebrow. He did not pour her another glass.

She rolled her eyes, then reaching below into the pockets of her armor. Inside was tucked a small leather pouch, and she fished out a small stack of coins given to her by Sansa before she had left. She slammed a few on the bar top, then gave the man an exasperated look.

He took the coin and looked it over in his hand for a long moment before he refilled her stein.

"Thank you," she said sarcastically as he handed it back to her. She raised the cup up in a satirical toast, and the bartender chuckled, but left her be with her fourth refill of the night.

Then her fifth, and her sixth.

Brienne was about to call it a night. She had no reason to believe this particular bar would be the place where she would find what she was looking for other than the history that was attached to it. She was searching with twigs of clues at this point, but something indescribable within her overtook her senses, packed her few bags, and forced her return to this shithole.

Halfway through her sixth pint, the smell of piss started to irritate her beyond belief, and she reached into her pocket again. She slid her last payment of the night across the bartop and sighed as she stood.

"Finally calling it a night?" The man asked, still cleaning those stupid glasses. Brienne nodded silently, and he wished her well as she began to work her way to the exit of the bar.

Brienne's head pounded as she dodged an impressively-dirty man sneering at her, sidestepped a woman with quite a few missing teeth reaching for her sword, and squeezed through a few sweaty couples getting rather promiscuous in the dining area. Just as the door was in view, she was suddenly cut off.

A short, blonde beauty stepped in front of her, smiling sweetly as she looked over Brienne from bottom to top.

"Excuse us, ser," a soft voice whispered from behind Brienne. Before she could react, she felt a set of hands reach around and run up her front.

Brienne opened her mouth to say something, cheeks bright red.

"Oh, she is no ser," the blonde woman said, licking her plush lips. Brienne tried to speak again, but her eyes wandered over the woman's revealing, lavender-colored dress that was more likely a few strips of fabric covering her most private areas. The blonde giggled and cupped Brienne's chin, then turned her around.

The redheaded woman now in front of Brienne looked pleased.

"Oh, this is quite a delight now, isn't it?" She asked, pressing her front to Brienne's cool armor. Brienne swallowed heavily.

"I am sorry, I think you have mistaken me -"

"For whom?" The blonde woman cooed in Brienne's ear.

"Perhaps dessert," The red-haired woman teased as they both guided Brienne farther away from the door. Brienne opened her mouth again, but the redheaded woman covered her lips with a finger, and drunken Brienne blushed furiously.

"We would be happy to make dessert out of you," one of them whispered, Brienne couldn't tell whom. She considered staying here within the embrace of the two courtesans, and she let them back her into a wall. After all, would it really be so bad to be lavished by two women on a god-awful night like this?

Or perhaps just the one, as the blonde woman seemed to have slipped away, but Brienne was more than happy to make do with the redheaded lady in front of her.

Brienne, sighed, and shook her head to let out her nerves. Then, she bent down, just enough to slam her lips against the woman's. The lady gasped against Brienne's mouth and let Brienne wrap her strong hands around the other's much smaller figure, pulling her closer.

The woman tasted like something sweet mixed with something deliciously sour, like a tart apple, and Brienne let herself melt into the embrace, eyes slipping shut and even growling softly as the woman's lips wandered to Brienne's throat.

Her fingers carded through the smaller woman's hair, cradling the other in the crook of her neck. When the woman bit down on Brienne's collarbone, she couldn't help but let out a low moan, eyes shooting open with surprise.

For a second, Brienne's eyes watered, making it impossible to see, until the thrill wound back up inside her and cleared her vision.

That was when Brienne saw her.

Though her back was to Brienne, it was impossible to mistake her for anyone else. Strolling in with a group of loud men following behind her, bartender preparing her a drink without any order, her raspy voice calling confidently for a particular woman, but especially by the way she pulled a seat back by the top of it and sat herself on it like a king, legs spreading and arms opening to welcome the blonde woman from earlier into her lap.

Brienne's body stiffened against the redheaded woman, and for a few minutes, she watched Yara Greyjoy engage with the prostitute.

She watched the way Yara ran her tongue down and bury her face between the woman's breasts. Both laughed at Yara's little party trick, and Yara leaned back, taking a sip of her ale as the blonde woman straddling her began to slip the top of her dress off, revealing her upper half.

Brienne watched with a burning storm in her stomach as Yara ran her hand up the woman's chest, pinching at her nipple to feel for a reaction. The woman whined, then grabbed ahold of Yara's neck, bringing their bodies closer and pressing against the Ironborn lady. Yara chuckled and slipped her hand downwards, still relentlessly searching for responses.

The blonde woman pulled Yara closer, and Yara curled into her, head resting on her shoulder as her hand slipped up the woman's upper thigh and into her dress. Brienne felt her anxiety boil, running down her spine and into her hands that clenched at the base of the redheaded woman's back.

Her eyes narrowed, breathing growing heavy in a way that had the redhead woman giggling as she watched the woman in Yara's lap gasp, back curling.

Yara looked up at the blonde woman, smirking and whispering into her ear. Brienne glared as she smiled sweetly back down at Yara, saying something coyly that had Yara barking with laughter, shaking her head. For a moment, Brienne caught a glimpse of Yara's full face, and she felt months of tension and complexity swell inside of her.

Her heart thumped so loudly she worried it might burst out of her chest, and Brienne nearly choked on the lump in her throat when Yara's deep eyes locked with hers.

[fandomnerd9602]

Asha and Y/N First kiss? maybe y/n just wanted to hug asha but when they stop huging y/n just looks at asha and kisses her

Y/N hugs Asha tight and spins her around…

Asha giggles as the two lock eyes…

Y/N kisses her softly…

Y/N: I-I’m sorry I don’t know what-

Asha kisses them back…

Asha: looks like I got my kiss (giggles)

[ashasdiary]

hello! I love ur work and if you are feeling up for it, I was wondering if you could possibly write a toji story where he finishes on your face! or maybe a blurb of how all the men would do it! keep up the great writing! <3

you are so sweeeeet and thoughtful, thank you for the love and consideration but of COURSE I can!!!!!!! I did Toji for you — hope you like it, lovie 🫶🏻

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader Synopsis: you show Toji what that mouth do and he channels his inner Picasso.  CW: smut — head (giving and receiving), facial (MDNI) WC: 1.6k

Your lips were fused together as you kiss hungrily, breaths mingling, the wet smacks of your lips sounding between you. 

His large hands slip from your hips to your ass and you let out a moan when he squeezes the supple flesh over your clothes. You walk him backwards and he lets you, secretly enjoying that you were taking the reins this time.

He stops when the backs of his knees hit the bed, but you don’t, you break the kiss and push him down onto the mattress. 

He lets himself fall back onto it and he bounces a little, smirking up at you, a chuckle falling from his lips at your eagerness. 

“Geez, ma, I didn’t know you’d be this horny for me,” he says, eyes glinting with amusement as you stand between his open legs, and he runs his hands up your body and pulls your shirt off swiftly. 

“I’m always horny for you,” you tell him, grabbing the hem of his shirt, “watching you in action, though…made that increase by tenfold.”

He lifts his arms and lets you pull it off him, and you let out a quiet moan when you see his upper body flexing with the movement. He grins at you, showing off those pretty pearly whites, leaning his weight back onto his hands as he admires you. “Yeah? Love seeing how skilled I am, huh?” 

You sink to your knees in front of him, visualising in your mind what you’d seen not long ago. Him showcasing his speed, techniques, strength, and skill in such an incredible way that you were left in awe but also aroused. You grab the waistband of his pants and start to pull them down. 

“Fuck yes I do. You are so…” you trail off, not even having the words to describe what you were thinking in this moment. 

“So…?” He presses, lifting his hips to allow you to pull off his pants completely. You fling them to the side. 

You look up at him through your lashes, fingers trailing over the dark hair running below his belly button. You note the playful look in his eyes and you know he wants to hear you say it. “Now you just want me to stroke your ego,” you say, and he grins. 

“I wouldn’t mind that, baby, but I think I’d rather you stroked somethin’ else,” he chuckles and you palm the hardness of him over his boxers. 

You feel him up with one hand, your other caressing his thigh, and you watch him carefully as you tease him over the thin fabric. He wets his lips, watching you watch him, enjoying the sight of you so desperate to please him. 

You reach into his boxers and take out the heavy length of him, so hard and alert for you. You bite your lip as you see how his tip was drooling precum, and you swipe your thumb over it, wetting your hand as you cup your fingers around him and slowly stroke him a couple of times. 

“Like this?” You tease, looking up at him wantonly. He hums, relaxing a little more, his eyes trained intently on you. 

“Fuck yeah, gorgeous.” His voice is a low purr, and you fucking love when he sounds so primal. It awakens something deep, deep within you. 

You pump him in your hand a few more times, dragging down his boxers slowly, revealing all of him. You salivate at the sight, your pussy pulsing in anticipation, as you lean in and wrap your lips around the thick head of him. 

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, letting out an “Ah…god…” as you suck softly on him. 

You steady your breathing and moan as the taste of him and the feel of his veins hits your tongue, gradually taking in more of him into your mouth. You feel the wetness accumulating at your core, and you whine softly as you take him as far as you can, keeping your hand around the part of him you couldn’t. 

“Yeah…that’s it, sweetness. God, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my dick in your mouth,” he husks, threading his fingers into your hair gently. 

You slowly lift your mouth off of him and take him back in again, beginning a slow but steady pace, your eyes shut. You squeeze him gently in your hand as you suck on him, and revel in the sound of the low grunts and moans falling from his lips. 

You look up at him briefly as you’re sucking on him, and he lets out a louder groan, “Mmm…fuck…” and he stops you gently, lifting you off of him. 

“You know I love your mouth on me, baby, but I needta taste you. Get up here n’ sit on my face,” he says, guiding you onto your feet. 

Your clit throbs at his request, a little heartbeat of its own, as he takes control. You wipe the saliva from around your mouth with the back of your hand and he pulls off your remaining clothes, big hands settling on your hips, “So damn gorgeous…fuck. C’mere.”

You gaze at him longingly, a small smile playing at your lips. He pulls you onto his lap and kisses you deeply, teasing his tongue against yours briefly, before he’s lying back and pushing you up further. 

You kneel over and position yourself over his face and he groans at the sight before him. Quickly curling his big, beefy arms around your thighs, he pulls you down onto his face. You gasp at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your cunt, making out with your lower lips, and you let out a mewl as he locks you in place and goes to town. 

Your hips grind down against his mouth as he ravages your cunt, sucking on your clit momentarily before he drags the flat of his tongue up and down your folds, then pushing his tongue into you. You let out a gasp, moaning out his name as you reach down to hold onto his hair. 

“O-oh, Toji…” you whimper and he lets out a growl as both his hands grab your ass and pull you even more against him. He’s eating you like you’re his last meal, and you moan out, rolling your hips against his skilled mouth. You gasp when he sucks on your clit again, and you let out a shuddering sigh as pleasure flows through your core to every part of your body. 

One of his hands departs from your ass and reaches down to his cock, stroking himself as he eats you out. You tug on the dark strands of his hair, your breathing becoming shallower and quicker as you ride his face, hips rolling against his sinful tongue. 

“Taste so good,” he says, his voice muffled. You feel a shiver run through you at the way he’s getting sloppier and sloppier, your wetness coating the lower half of his face, the wet smacks of him devouring you eagerly, the deep, guttural groans escaping him. 

You feel yourself nearing the edge, letting out a mewl as you keen from the pleasure, your thighs closing slightly around his head but he pushes them open and continues to ravage your pretty pussy with his mouth. “Ah-I’m…I’m… fuck, Toji…” you pant, your movements stuttering as you hold onto his hair, but he doesn’t let up, fucking and licking and sucking you in the filthiest and most sinful ways. 

“Give it to me,” you hear him mumble against you as he hums and moans, flicking your clit with his tongue once more. Then he’s pushing his tongue into you, his nose pressed against your clit, and darting his tongue in and out of you, pushing you right over the edge into pure ecstasy. Your body shakes a little as the waves of pleasure overcome you, your walls pulsing as you feel the rush. 

You whimper, panting as you lift yourself off of his face, sitting to the side and he lets out a soft sigh as he sits up, “can’t get enough of you, sweetness,” he tells you, leaning in and kissing your neck. 

You tilt your head towards him and capture his lips with yours in a passionate kiss, “Mmm. I love you,” you whisper, tasting yourself on his lips, your hand snaking over to his achingly hard cock, pumping him in your hand again. 

He lets out a soft groan against you, and you both slowly move back to the edge of the bed. You crawl off the bed, and sit in front of him obediently, gazing up at him with such a lustful gaze that he grunts just from that. 

He fucks his fist a few times, and you bite your lip as he starts to cum. You close your eyes as he releases, the hot ropes decorating your perfect face in thick spurts. 

You hold onto his leg and he groans deeply, breathless, as he slows the movement of his hand and squeezes his cock, running his tip along your lips to get the last of his cum onto the perfect pout of it. You open your eyes and gaze up at him again, swiping your tongue out, gathering it and tasting him. 

“Fuck,” he curses, and you let out a small laugh at the way his cock jumps. 

“I didn’t know you’d become an artist?” You quip, and he chuckles, looking over your face with his artwork all over it. 

“Yeah…didn’t know I’d like it like that. Got kinda messy. Sorry, baby.”

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to clean up your art. And I’m not done with you,” you tell him affirmatively as you stand up, “so get in the shower now.”

He grins, “Alright, ma…so fuckin’ bossy.”

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved. Dividers by cafekitsune

[luna-writes-stuff]

Wow those other memes were a whole success, huh? Enjoy these <3

Interested in whoever is that girl in the first picture? Check out my (finished) Kili X OC fic series in my main masterlist and find out!

[saints-whore]

So I’m like… A huge sucker for Matsha (Matt Miller/Asha Odekar). I admit that I’m not 100% sure of what exactly you’re writing, and I know that Asha isn’t one of the characters you write for, but even something that’s solely Matt focused that implies Asha is either part of it or he’s just thinking about her would be fucking awesome.

i don't mind writing asha, i just need to replay sriv to make sure she's not ooc. and that's gonna be difficult since i'm currently trying to get that vampire dick is bg3-

Matt Miller and Asha Odekar throuple headcanons

Honestly, scoring a brilliant hacker nerd and a military bad bitch is quite the achievement, not gonna lie.

Although they're both british so maybe it's not that great of an achievement, I suppose.

Still, they're not bad together. Matt pulls you both into watching Nyte Blade with him. And while the show is bad, it's so bad that it's actually hilarious.

You also have video game nights. Matt gets you both to play Minecraft with him.

Usually you and Asha only get started, and the next time you come to the Minecraft world, Matt has already managed to build a whole ass empire.

Dates or hang-outs with all three of you are usually planned by Matt. Asha mostly spends her free time in more active ways.

Her idea of a date is to teach you self-defense or to share a sweet evening wrapped in a blanket together. With some hot cocoa, preferably. And marshmallows, though that's only on special occasions.

Matt, on the other hand, likes to be showy sometimes. Well, more often than sometimes, but you get the point.

He's a pirate and you cannot convince me otherwise, that man has not paid for a single game/program in his entire life.

Except Nyte Blade. Baby boy pays for Nyte Blade.

He pirates all your favorite shows. And games.

If you're a gamer, you get a whole room as you gamer den.

He does not let you win, though, if you play against each other.

He loves you, yes, but he's not letting you beat him. Nobody can beat him. Not you, not Asha, nobody.

[a-libra-writes]

so glad you're accepting some requests! i've loved your work for so long now. pls feel free to ignore if this doesn't strike your muse, i'll read basically anything you write.

i must ask for my fav ASOIAF boys: Stannis, Roose, Jorah, Jaime, and Sandor (you can pick and choose between this list, im definitely not expecting ALL of them 😭)

my prompt is awkward/untimely moments when they confess their love for the reader OR moments that make them soft for their lover (again, you can pick which interests you more....)

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT, please feel free to pick and choose what you wanna do, if you wanna do any of them at all! thank you and have a nice night!

oh thank you!! Im glad you enjoy my silly blog so much. I thought the "moments that make them soft" was just super cute and made me think a lot, so I picked that one. Your chosen characters are at the front, and I added a few more for my own self indulgence

No warnings, Reader is implied to be married in most. Also, Roose is Roose.

Stannis - There are many things Stannis gets sentimental for, not that he could think of them on the spot. It's all things that happen in the moment.

When he's at a social function with you and someone's infuriating him, it grounds him when you gently touch his hand. You might say you aren't feeling well, and of course it's a husband's duty to take you away from the crowd and make sure you're alright... then he realizes you just feigned feeling faint for his sake. 

Another time is when you defend him, especially against the criticisms of other lords. He can handle himself, and he always has, but there's something different about you coldly (and politely) telling them off. The harsher your words, the better.

Gentle touches on his jaw when he grinds his teeth, a touch on the shoulder when he's totally absorbed in something and isn't hearing your call, and wanting to take his arm when you both have to appear before the public. While he's averse to most touching, the fact you're considerate of that instead of criticizing means a lot.

Also, appreciating his attempts to please you, and saying so! Appreciation is not something Stannis gets a lot of, even when his best is put forth. Bringing up something sweet he did a while back will actually get a blush and grumble out of him. 

And while it may not seem like a lot, generally just supporting him in court politics means more than he can say. You aren't just performing an expected wifely loyalty, you genuinely want the best for him and House Baratheon. Being on the same page and working in tandem brings such emotions - relief, gratitude, affection - it can be difficult for Stannis to express with words or actions, but he's absolutely soft for it.

Roose - This can be tricky for his partner to discern unless they're paying close attention or it's been a long time in the relationship. Roose does not wear his emotions, positive or negative, openly. The most obvious emotion one might see is pleased contempt for someone he's just intimidated or screwed over.

Any softness would first come from his wife willingly touching him, usually when she's doing something simple. Adjusting his cloak when it's a little askew, taking his arm when visiting other lords, touching his hand during a meal when you're trying to make a point. He's told himself he doesn't care what your feelings are, he just needs a wife to secure an alliance and an heir, but ... well, it is easier if you're fond of him ... 

He's such a suspicious and careful person that overt affection may be seen as an act, so it's little things where you forget yourself that he thinks of most. When you lean into him as you both speak, or gasp in spite of yourself when he grasps you. The satisfaction of making you "forget" yourself is stronger than if you're doting at the start. 

Sometimes, if Roose catches you being affectionate with any children you both share, he'll watch for a few moments. Again, he tells himself it's simply that he "won" over you and that's the only reason he's so pleased.

Jorah - Tbh it's easier to list what doesn't make him soft for you

The biggest one is when you're fussing over him! Jorah is always the one who puts your needs before his own, so you insisting on caring for him and spoiling him a bit just gets him weak in the knees. It's hard to say what he likes best, but making his favorite meal followed by tons of affection is enough to wash away any fatigue.

Showing him off and being obviously proud of being his partner is another thing that gets him fluttery. He already gazes at you adoringly on a regular basis, but now he looks like you hang the moon when you take his arm and happily introduce him as your's.

And, he can't help but melt when you're sweet with kids. Wether you're helping a little one up after they fall or teaching how to do something, he just has to watch from a distance. Yes, he'd want children if you wished for them, but it's moreso he appreciates the compassion you show those smaller and weaker than you. It's sweet how children seem to rely on and cling to you, knowing you're someone safe - and obvs, if these were children you had or adopted together, it made him even more sentimental and emotional.  

Jaime -First, it's tough to know when Jaime is having feelings because most of the time, he's hiding it. If he's caught gazing fondly at you, he'll brush it off with sarcasm.

The easiest way for him to catch feels is just you being honest with your intentions and feelings. When you tell him how much you adore him, or you appreciate something he did - especially after you both were intimate and you're cuddled up, and you just state how you feel with no manipulations or strings attached, it does something to him. He doesn't respond at first, just quietly contemplating your words long after you've fallen asleep.

Another time is when you see through his arrogance and bravado. When Jaime's trying to assure you he's fine and he's dealt with it, and he isn't bothered by what happened at all actually, and you just quietly listen. That bravado wavers just so, and it just takes a few well-placed questions before he finally just caves and tells you what's actually going on (how do you and Tyrion do that so well?). The fact you listen and don't judge or admonish him is something that occurs to him much later. He can go to you with a problem, and that's a rare vulnerability for the disgraced knight.

Sandor - He is far more affected by you than he wants to admit to himself, especially at the beginning, but after being years of being together, anyone with eyes could see it.

First of all, you're so damn gentle. You always talked to him with a kindness and politeness he wasn't used to, and while he initially brushed it off, the annoying thing is you were genuine. You'll even touch carefully or be considerate of things that may upset him, like he needs to be protected, the huge "knight" that everyone is terrified of. It completely affects Sandor and for a long time he didn't know what to do with himself. Now he just quietly accepts it, allowing himself to be vulnerable and cared for instead of immediately crushing those feelings.

On the same lines, it used to trouble Sandor how you'd hold him so tight. It didn't matter if it was after sex or just an embrace out of nowhere (the latter is a bit more startling), and it almost sent him into a fight-or-flight response the first few times you did it. He's far more comfortable with it than before, but now embraces tend to send him into something of a "reset". Any anger or darkness that was clouding him will fade just slightly, and he'll lean into you and let his guard down.

Brandon - Though he carries plenty of bravado and confidence, it's pretty easy for others to tell when he's being soft on you, especially his family members. The easiest way to get him feeling fluttery is to rely on him. Yes, even if you're clearly teasing or messing with him, you like to have him carry you over water or lift you up on your horse or "protect" you while you both go on a walk in the late hours. It's like he's a boy with a crush again, and he likes to show off his strength.

There's also the simple things that get him every time, like when you take his hand and entwine your fingers out of nowhere. You won't say anything, you'll just do it, and when you kiss his hand and knuckles it gets the big man oddly flustered.

Asha - While she's certainly felt all sorts of soft around you, it's not immediately obvious. As much as she loves you, she doesn't go on about grand gestures or proclamations. It's just not her style. So when you do something just so damn cute and charming - like rambling on about something you love or ranting about someone who pissed you off - she just smiles.

An outsider might think she's just amused, but those in the know have never seen such an expression of adoration on her. When you finish your tirade, she just teases you with a kiss and a pull of the cheek. You ought to stop being so damn cute. Another thing she likes is when you're frank with her. When you honestly tell her how much you love her, or how happy you are - even if she didn't have doubts, it's nice to hear it.

Victarion - First, he doesn't think he's capable of such "weak" feelings and vulnerability. If anyone brought it up, they'd be punched. If his family brings it up, he grumbles and scowls. If you do, he just frowns and turns away. It's not expected of an Ironborn, so obviously he doesn't have any softness toward you. None.

Not even when you've managed to get him in your arms and have him rest on your chest - not an easy feat, this is always after sex and usually when he's drunk - and he can feel your skin and heartbeat. You touch his rough, tangled hair, and his scarred face, and his even more scarred back, and the huge man is like putty. He's heavy, sure, but it feels warm and safe. Later when he's awake and sober and going about whatever he does during the day, he'll think back on that embrace, and odd feelings he can't describe just pick at him.

A smaller thing is when you approve of something he does, regardless if it's an action or words. Even just glancing at him and nodding - even if subtle, he notices. It's like a thrill going through him and Victarion wonders why for a solid minute. Maybe he should do that thing more, or say those words again? Why does he care about your reaction anyway, and why does he want it again? It's even worse when you leave without explaining what exactly it was that pleased you. Asha says he'll figure it out eventually.