#taller courtesans take the bottom position

[sea-lanterns]

Imagining Empress holding onto their plushies for dear life as she gets wrecked (lovingly) by their Courtesans. Them just grasping and squeezing them in overwhelm... Eventually, a Courtesan would get tired of seeing those in her loves arms and will remove them, to the whiny complaint of Empress before they quiet down when the *Courtesan* inserts herself into her Empress's arms to hold and squish.

The picture of a Courtesan just laying above/beneath Empress so they can wrap their arms around her while they get fucked by another Courtesan or two...

Now I'm imagining the Courtesans removing the plushies from the room pre-fuck session so when their hands start to wander for something to grab onto, they'll have no choice but to make grabby hands at a Courtesan instead.

The courtesans removing all plushies from the Empress’ room pre-fuck is funny. Also, the implications that the Empress gets super clingy during sex is adorable. Her arms have to be holding onto something warm and soft while getting fucked, as it’s comforting and she likes the idea of holding onto something for stability.

The courtesans would notice this habit whenever the Empress reaches out for her plushies mid-fuck, but while it didn’t bother them before, the fact that the Empress would cling onto an object rather than a courtesan, was something that genuinely annoyed them. So, I imagine that Ganyu or Furina just yank the plushie out of the Empress’ arms one day, and replace the plushie with their own body so that the Empress can get used to clinging onto a courtesan instead during sex.

Now instead of plushies, the Empress would most often be found lying underneath or lying above a courtesan, with her arms wrapped around their neck as another courtesan (or two) fuck her at the lower end of the bed rather roughly. Extra intimacy points for the courtesans! Now more of them can touch her during sexy time 💕

[mizznancywheelerfic]

“just talking and blades” one shot. rated e. arya has some cool blades from her past in braavos. edited.

Arya made sure Nymeria and all her wolves were all set for the night before she entered into her tent for the night. Her men, the remnants of the brotherhood, were all in their tents for the night as well with the exception of those posted as guards. The sight of all her men and wolves made her heart swell with pride.

My pack

Initially, some of the brothers had been hesitant to take orders from a young woman only nine-and-ten. However, the presence of her great pack of wolves seemed to convince all who were apprehensive about following her lead.

Arya was only grateful that no snow fell over their forces for this one night. Provisions were limited, and snows would only make their move all the more difficult. But those thoughts would have to wait for another day. For now, she could only go to bed.

After the closed the tent's entrance, she turned to see Gendry sitting upon his sleeping sack. He was polishing his fine steel hammer that she gave him as reward for his service. And for his role as her personal guard. Arya pushed off her fur pelts and threw them atop her bed. After that, she stood to observe Gendry once more.

��Don't you do that enough?” she asked, making her way to her small mattress. It wasn't a featherbed, but she'd make do as she always did.

He glanced at her after he shook his dark hair away from his eyes.

Blue eyes

Gendry wasn't as boyish as he was when they were together as children. Not near as boyish. He was even taller than she remembered, and bigger, too. (And fiercer and more handsome, said a smaller voice). No, Gendry was not the same as he was before.

He'd say I still am a girl even though I’m clearly a woman. Well, he's wrong about that and much more.

But he certainly didn't look at her like a girl, no matter what words came out of his mouth. Arya could tell when men looked at her a certain way. She grew accustomed to it in Braavos once she became a woman. However, Gendry wasn't like the sailors or bravos that called her name along the streets. He would never whistle at her, call her to come over in some lewd words, or try to pull her on his knee. Instead, he'd briefly give her the one over any time she walked into a room. His eyes would only pause to get a good glance at her bottom or her new breasts. And after he had that second, his eyes would look elsewhere.

But Arya was tired of this game. She knew she wanted him, and it was only a matter of time, she knew.

“A man ought to take good care of his weapons. Aye, ain't you told me that?” Gendry said as he placed his hammer next to his pillow.

Arya bit her lip.

Do we have any more time?

She shrugged her shoulders and gave a laugh. “Perhaps I did. At least something is getting through that thick skull of yours.”

He only snorted in response. Instead of going to her bed as she usually did, Arya moved toward his sleeping sack. Before Gendry could protest, she pounced on the sack, staking her claim.

This time he gave her a good, long look. “And what you doing here?”

Arya rolled her eyes. “This is my tent, stupid.”

Gendry shook his head. “No, don't play stupid, Arya. You know I'm askin' why you're atop my sack and not on your bed.”

“What's wrong with it?” Arya asked incredulously though a part of her knew he'd be foolish.

“Lots o' things.”

Arya sat up. “Well, I don't think there's anything wrong with it. We're just friends. We're just talking.”

His eyes narrowed. “Just talking?”

Arya nodded, and Gendry seemed more comfortable. He exhaled.

“Do you want to see some of my blades?” Arya asked.

His thick dark eyebrows raised. “I've already seen them.”

“Not properly. Not up close. Want to see them up close?” Arya asked as she edged closer to him.

For a moment he looked like he was going to say that he didn't want to see them, but then he slowly nodded.

Arya hopped off the sack and danced toward her bed. She quickly knelt on the floor and pulled out a chest. When she opened the chest, she found four blades staring at her. All were fine, valuable weapons adorned in pearls. They were her last gift from Bellegere before the Waif killed her in cold blood. Arya decided to choose the longest, thinnest one before closing the chest and sliding back to its place underneath the bed.

When she was back upon the sack, she was far closer to Gendry than she had been before. In fact, she was sitting right next to him, shoulder to shoulder, as she showed him her blade. While the blade was dwarfed in his large, calloused hand, he held it carefully. Gendry was always fine with his hands, she knew since the sight of him working with his tools had entranced her more than a time or two.

Like a silly stupid flustered girl

“You get these in Braavos?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, practically in his ear. She felt him tense.

He licked his lip before taking a deep breath. “It's a fine blade. I never seen one like this.”

Arya moved her hand to his forearm and slid it up to his hand. “That's because there's no blade like it. It's Valyrian steel.”

“Like your Needle.”

Arya nodded her head. “Precisely,” she said as she rested her head on his shoulder while her thin fingers stroked his long, heavy ones.

Gendry didn't say anything back. Rather, he stayed completely still. Arya could hear his breathing go heavy, and unbidden, hers was doing the same.

“Gendry, let go of the blade,” she whispered, hoping he could hear her.

Once again, he gave no answer to her words. Instead, he placed the blade on the rug next to the sleeping sack. Arya pulled back as he did. She leaned into the sack with her elbows propping her up. When Gendry moved back to his previous position, he realized that Arya wasn't where she had been. Arya waited for him to turn around. When he did, she spread her legs open, trying to appear as casual as she could.

She expected him to chide her and tell her to go back to her bed. But he didn't. Gendry fell straight onto his back.

“I thought you said we were just going to be talking?” he said in a hoarse voice.

“Then talk. Ask me the first question on your mind,” Arya replied.

“Have you been in a sack with many men?”

Arya was taken aback by the question for a half a heartbeat. But she wouldn't let him shock her, truly.

“In a manner of speaking,” Arya said as she began to unlace the strings of her tunic, “but not the way you're thinking, I suspect. I mostly just watched.”

“How much did you watch?” he asked, eyes closed.

Arya crawled toward him to answer this question. She sat atop her knees as she placed her hand over his knee. When there was no protest, Arya began to slide her hand up his thigh.

“Oh, lots. What do you think goes in brothels? I’m sure you must know for as long as you were in the Brotherhood. But, Bellegere said a courtesan should be selective so I was. Only an excellent purse was worth the trouble of making love.”

“Wh-who was Bellegere?” he asked, his voice grown even more rough.

Arya shrugged her shoulders. She put on her sweetest voice knowing that nothing infuriated Gendry more than what she put on her sweet voices. Though he never said why. “A courtesan I worked for. She thought I could be a grand courtesan, it’s kind of like a fancy whore if you don’t know. I'd be a legend and men would beggar themselves to have my maidenhead.”

At that his eyes snapped open and he picked up his head to look her in the eye. “And did they?”

Arya cut him off with a squeeze of his cock over his breeches. Gendry eyes fluttered and he let out a grunt. “No, I never got to that part. As you would know if you used any sense, you stupid bullheaded man. Obviously, I'm here in Westeros, and not in Braavos with my legs spread for lords and princes and the like.”

Then Arya put her free hand between her legs and tried to match the rhythm of her other hand.

Gendry's eyes were still closed as she she squeezed and stroked him in turn. “F-fuck,” Gendry said before licking his lips and opening his eyes to look at her, “Arya, y-you want to see my blade?”

Arya narrowed her eyes and squeezed him hard. He winced to Arya's delight. That's what he gets for trying to be clever.

But it was Arya's turn to wince when he suddenly pushed her down onto the sleeping sack. “Idiot!”Arya gasped before laughing as Gendry swiftly pulled her by the legs and wrapped them around his hips. She was soon left breathless as Gendry buried his face into her neck, his hands sliding underneath her tunic.

And for all of Bellegere's teachings, Arya found that the sensations she was feeling were nothing she anticipated. She pressed her cunt feverishly up against Gendry's crotch as he pulled off the tunic she wore and threw it to the floor. The warmth Arya felt pool between her legs only became more intense as Gendry lowered his head and sucked on one of her nipples while one of his heavy, skilled hands slid down her belly to cup her cunt roughly.

Arya began to moan as his hand rubbed up and down. Eventually, he stopped sucking on her nipples when she pushed his head aside. He then straightened his back and stared at her with all the lust she had been trained to see in men. But, in Gendry, the sight made her feel different. It made her feel hot and dazed. She knew she must look that way to him. He'd be able to spot her lust, too. Gendry was a bull, he was an animal like her, too.

“Take off my boots, Gendry,” Arya managed to choke out.

Ever obedient, Gendry took his hands off her body and made to take off her boots.

“Do you want me, Gendry?” Arya asked. She knew, but she wanted him to say he did. The words had to come out of his mouth.

His eyes were brimming with desire as he contemplated an answer. His hands moved up and down her sinewy calves.  “I want you more than anything. I think about what it'd be like to fuck you all the time,” he answered without looking away from her eyes. She knew how to find the truth in a man, and the truth was all over his fingertips, his eyes, and his lips.

“I think about fucking you, too,” Arya admitted, an unexpected warmth suddenly flooding her cheeks.

Gendry smirked. “I didn’t know you thought about things like that.”

“Well, I do. And I know you like the thought of me thinking of you,” Arya edged even closer to him and rocked her cunt against his cock, “doing to me all the things I saw men do to women. You're a regular bull. I bet you'd fuck me right on this forest ground. Then, before you were sated, you flip me over and take me like the way wolves do. But I'd be crying out so loud that you'd have to put your hand right over my mouth so I didn't scream loud enough for the brotherhood to come calling.”

Arya squeaked as Gendry began clumsily untying the laces on her breeches in his haste to get them off her.

With the sweetest, most innocent voice she could muster Arya continued in her talking with “Oh, and I'd never had a man in bed so it would hurt me something fierce---”

“Shut up,” Gendry said, cutting her off with a kiss after he had pulled off her breeches and her small clothes.

Arya cupped her hands around his bearded jaw and kissed him back. Her tongue slipped inside his mouth and he reciprocated the action eagerly. He seemed as hungry for her as she was for him. The kiss was hot and messy and rough. Arya could dimly hear the rustle of clothes before she realized that Gendry was taking off his breeches. Wanting to see him fully naked as she had fantasized for months, Arya pulled away from the kiss. He whimpered, but didn't stop her. Arya wiped the spit off her mouth with the back of her hand before she moved to yank off Gendry's worn jerkin and tunic. When they were both fully naked before each other, Gendry leaned down to kiss her again. Unlike the heated kissing they had just been doing, Gendry placed a small, sweet kiss on her lips. Arya sighed as he placed his thick arms around her and squeezed. Before she could do anything, he used his strength to pull her atop him while he fell straight on his back.

Arya was sitting atop him, a position she wanted so desperately to try on him, while he looked up at her. The lust was plain as day in his eyes and she wiggled her hips to tease him.

Gendry moaned, his hands squeezing her hips. “You're a skinny little thing. Barely any meat on you.”

She rolled her eyes. “And you like it. I know it,” Arya said as she pinched one of his hard nipples. He chuckled as her hand lingered in his dark, course chest hair.

“You really ain't had a man before?” he asked. She could tell he wanted to know badly. So, she told him the truth.

“No.”

Gendry nodded. She could sense the relief. “You said that a man'd have to beggar himself for your maidenhead. I'm already a beggar, I'm afraid. All I got is what you've given me.”

Arya pulled on his chest hair. She smiled when he gave a sharp gasp. “Then you'll have to be mine. Forever. I'll take that,” her eyes bore into his, “Gendry, do you want to do that?”

“More than anything.”

And with those words, Arya mimicked all the things she saw in late nights in the Happy Port. She bit her lip on the pain she felt when she slid down on him, but the sound of Gendry's moan was enough to make her forget. Up and down and up and down. Arya rode his cock relentlessly, hearing herself moan along with him. The only thing that stopped her from waking the whole camp was Gendry's hand covering her mouth. But before she could finish, Gendry gave a deep shudder and collapsed completely onto the sleeping sack. Despite the cold, he was all sweaty. Arya tried riding him more, but it was no use. So, Arya slid off of him and laid herself next to him. Arya did what she had been learning best over the year, which was to touch herself until she peaked, but she only managed to finish when Gendry's fingers suddenly started touching her as well. And when Arya did peak, she gave off a soft sigh. The pleasure only lingered as Gendry pressed kisses to her neck, his heavy fingers still playing with the sensitive flesh between her legs. She could feel him slide his fingers inside her, exploring and playing with the seed that he left behind when he peaked.

His deep voice was at a whisper when he said, “I never felt anything so good or so soft, Arya.”

The words were stupid, she knew, but they were sincere. No man could lie to her. So she wanted to be true, too. As she looked up at the candle lit tent's ceiling, Arya found she could no longer the truth she'd been wrestling with for so long. Did the words have any more time? All men must die. But their words didn't have to die with them...

“I love you, Gendry.”