#tyrion lannister x reader smut

[catsteeth]

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader 

+:✿ Chapter 2 ✿:+ : Beautiful Girl

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Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister.  You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his. 

CW: afab reader, SMUT, MDNI, Fingering, P in V sex, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.

Word Count: 5125 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you’d just finished getting Margery ready for the day she sat you down and began to ready you as well. It wasn’t custom for a Lady to dress and pretty her Hand Maiden but Margery had taken the responsibility voluntarily and happily. 

“Podrick was seen where?” You asked wide eyes, holding in a laugh.

“Little Finger’s brothel,” Margery replied with a smirk as she brushed your hair. 

You shook your head with a smile “I will not believe such rumors.” 

“I hear the whores did not receive a payment.” Her fingers twisting the front sections of your hair and braiding them together at the back of your head.

“You’re suggesting he didn’t pay them?” You asked with disbelief. He didn’t seem like the type of man to pay for a whore, much less the type of man to steal their time and effort. 

“I am suggesting they did not want a payment. I hear that he was so skilled, they wouldn’t accept his payment.” She said as she finished your hair and she sat in front of you, beginning to do your makeup. 

“Now that I can’t believe it.” You said holding back laughter,

“You never know for sure with men like him. Quiet, and sweet, they can be sensitive to a woman's needs.” She said putting 

“I’ve been pinned against enough trees on Bear Island by enough men to know, no tongue, fingers, cock, or even nose is good enough to turn down gold.” 

“Perhaps you’re right. But perhaps you’re wrong, there is only one way to find out.” 

“Oh please, he can hardly hold his gaze to mine.”

“Some would say that means he likes you, besides the poor boy gave you a flower. One of the sweetest, and pathetic things I have ever seen.” She jested.

“He doesn’t want me, not like that.” You always found it hard to believe that any man would be interested in you beyond bedding.

she rolled her eyes as she finished applying a rouge to your lips. She fixed your hair slightly and half a small compact mirror to your face.

“if i were a man i would ravish you.” she smiled as you looked at yourself in the mirror. 

Margery had done your makeup and hair countless times. Every morning after you’d done hers, but each time always made sure to tell you how beautiful you were. even if you didn’t believe it. 

“a man would ravish a horse if desperate enough.” you pushed the compact away, you got up and began to select the gowns you’d both wear to the celebratory feast tonight.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

That evening was a celebration of the victory of Tywin Lannister. Nothing for you to feel celebratory for, but it gave you an opportunity to dance and drink. 

Most of the night you and Margrey had danced with one another, made quite jokes about the other men there. But once the celebration began to wind down Margrey had found an excuse to speak to Joffrey, part of her plan to seduce him. So naturally you made yourself scarce. Finding a corner of the room to stand in while you drank.

It would have been perfect to end your night in peace if a tall man didn’t approach you. 

He could have been some noble man or a knight, kings guard, even city watch, you didn’t know and more importantly did not care. 

“My, who might you be, my Lady.” He asked, his voice was low and attempting to sound seductive. 

“(Y/N) Mormont.” You said as you drank from your cup, your eyes wandered the room, paying little attention to the attractive man in front of you. As your eyes searched the large room, they landed on a pair of eyes already looking at you, Podrick’s. He looked at you with the eyes of a sad dog. 

It caught you so off guard you didn’t hear whatever the man had just said, only the mumbling of words. You tore your eyes from his and looked at the man, “What?” burrowed furrowed in frustration. 

“I said, then you are not much of a Lady.” He said with a twisted grin

“Is that so?” You said emotionlessly, unwilling to show any kind of offense that might have been taken. Fearing it would give him too much power. Besides, you did not care about the opinions of southerners. 

“Hand Maidens are not Ladies of any land, are they not?” 

“Perhaps.” You said your eyes returned to scanning the room, trying to find Podrick again, but having no luck.

“I could make you feel like one for tonight.” He held out his hand to you,

You held your cup to your lips as you spoke, “I’ve no wish to dance with you, Ser”.

“I cannot dance with a handmaiden,” The man smirked, his hand snaking around your waist. “I can enjoy one though.” He whispered in your ear.

You smirked back, and then you leaned in, making him think you were about to kiss him when you kicked him in the shin. “Oh!” You fained shock as he grunted in pain “My apologies Ser, I have always been quite clumsy.” Your concerned and shock demeanor dropped as you began to walk away. He began to spit some curse your way when you stomped on his foot. “If you’ll excuse me, my Lord.” 

As you walked forward a few steps before the man grabbed ahold of your wrist.

��You northern who-” He was interrupted by Podrick’s voice. 

“My Lady, the Queen wishes to have a word with you.” He spoke louder than usual. His eyes were wide and looked almost angry. 

You ripped your hand away from the man's grasp and walked with Podrick out of the room. 

“What does she want?” You asked, rubbing your wrist. 

“Nothing, I made that up.” He said avoiding your gaze as you both walked down the hall. 

“You made that up?” You looked at him with wide eyes, he nodded still avoiding your gaze. “Well, thank you.” You said softly. 

He’d walked you all the way to your chambers with no other words were exchanged between the two of you, other than the occasional glance at one another. You had reached your chambers door, you looked over at him as you began to open the door. 

He was ready to nod and walk away when you said, “Podrick,” To which his eyes went directly to yours. You didn’t say another word, just walked into your chambers leaving the door open. 

He hesitated for a moment, but walked in after you. 

He stood there, showing just how intimidated he was. 

As you kicked your shoes off, and removed the necklace Margery allowed you to barrow for the night, you looked over your shoulder to him “Close the door.” You said softly, and so he did. 

As you turned to him and began to walk towards him, his eyes subconsciously went from your eyes to your cleavage. Now more exposed now that you’d removed your necklace. He couldn’t help it really. Your corset and gown were truly putting them on display, and the candle light from your room made your skin glow beautifully. You smirked when you noticed, making him swallow hard and return his gaze to your eyes. He was going to apologize but you reached for his hand making him choke back any words he had. 

You held his hand, looking at his now healed cut, now formed scar across the palm of his hand. 

You trailed the scar with your finger tip. 

“You’re seducing me-” He finally found some courage to spit out some words.

“You feel seduced?” You still held his hand, still admiring your work on his hand.

“Yes- I mean, it is intentional isn’t it?” He stammered, somehow a little out of breath.

“Do you want it to be?” You looked at him with a grin and mischievous grin.

“I don’t want to offend you-” He said softly, looking away.

“So you don’t?” You let go of his hand,

“No- no,” His eyes went wide as he stammered, “I want you to, want to seduce me.” He winced at his own words, not knowing how to phrase it.

“Why would that offend me?” You smiled softly, holding back a giggle.

“I am just a squire, my Lady.” He shook his head looking down

“And here in King's Landing, I am just a handmaiden they send to patch up knights and Lords.” You said softly 

“You are Lady Mormont.” He said, it made you smile. No one had given such respect to your name in so long. 

“You’re sweet.” You brushed his short hair around his ear with your fingertips “Have you ever seduced a woman?” You asked sweetly, you knew the rumors of the whore house, but didn’t know if you could believe it.

“No, no, not really.” He said like we were being honest… maybe he was.

“Show me how you would.” You said looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

“What do you mean?” 

“How do you think I was seducing you?”

“You, made me… feel-” he stammered.

“Mhmm, so try to make me feel…” 

He stepped closer to you, meekly, his head lowered. He reached out and lightly ran his hand over your hair. Taking a strand of it and looking at it, admiring the color of it, and its texture. He looked into your eyes, his head still lowered. 

“You are beautiful.” His hand then went from your hair, to trailing his hand gently down your arm and grabbing your hand softly. He played with your fingers, again, gently. 

“I believe you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” He didn’t stammer, his voice was earnest, and gentle.

“This is wooing, not seducing.” You smiled and corrected him as if he were acting, genuinely thinking he were making it up. 

“I’m not trying to do either, my Lady.” Your smile dropped, “I just wish to be near you.” 

“You shouldn’t.” You said pulling your hand away.  “How we first met, tell me that.” 

“Lord Slynt ordered you to pour him wine-”

“And I spit in it.”

“He deserved it.”

“I lied to him, and your lord.” 

“Not to me.”

Your hardened gaze softened “No, no not to you” You lowered your head avoiding his eyes. afraid you’d melt in his sweetness. found yourself feeling that warm feeling in your chest again. You reached for his fingers with your own. interlocking your index finger with his. 

“You are- different.” He stammered a bit “Special.” He corrected, thinking it sounded more flattering. 

“You really are sweet. I don’t believe I've met a man so sweet as you.” He smiled, and in turn you smiled back, “You are shy, more so normally than you are now.” 

He let out a small chuckle “I still feel shy.” He said as he looked down smiling

“Are you too shy for me to kiss you?”

Instead of responding to you he cupped your face in his hands. So gently it was as if you were made of the finest porcelain in the realm. He leaned in and kissed your lips. Soft and again, gentle. but also passionate and almost lustful. You were surprised how well he kissed. No, he didn’t kiss well, his kiss was intoxicating somehow. Maybe it was the wine on his lips or just skill. you couldn’t help but let out the smallest whimper into his mouth. It made him pull away and go wide eyed. 

“You’re quite good at that.” You said wide eyes, catching your breath a bit.

“I apologize-“ He said, still holding your head in his hands.

“For what?”

“I should have asked you first,”

“Too late for that now,” you said, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. Your lips fell into a perfect rhythm as his hands moved to your ribs, careful not to touch your breasts. his thumbs moved against your ribs slowly and gently. 

You’d never felt this way with a man before. Normally it was sweaty, sloppy, and you ended it burnt out and covered in spit. This was like a dance, like you and he had kissed in every life. 

You felt terrified. An emotion you rarely ever felt. 

What if he was like every other man. They whisper sweet things in your ears, promises, and compliments. Then once they lifted your skirts and humped into you a few times they’d leave. You felt hurt the first time, maybe the second time too. But after that it was expected. So you never let yourself become invested in a man again. You used them as they used you. 

But this was different, this wasn’t only lust, there was something more. But was this feeling only yours, or did you share it? You needed to test him, only you didn’t know quite how. 

“Stop” You whispered in his mouth as you kissed, it made him stop immediately, and he stepped away from you, breathless. 

“I- I’m sorry” He said about to go for the door before you stopped him grabbing his arm.

“No,” 

“But you said-” 

“I can’t bed you like this.” You said running your hands on the tight fabric of your gown.

“Bed me?” He asked as if he had choked, it made you smile.

“Will you wait here for me?” You asked, petting his cheek, and he nodded slightly confused.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You had gone into the bathing room that was attached between your room and Margery’s. You bathed quickly, washed your hair, washed your face of its makeup, and slipped into your night dress. The only thing you wore to cover your nakedness. 

As you opened the door you saw Podrick lighting the fireplace in your room. He stood as he heard you open the door and looked in your direction as he said, “I thought you might be cold-” He was cut off by the sight of you. His eyes were enamored by the sight of you. 

You hadn’t shown him this side of you. Totally free of glamor and shine. “Thank you,” You said as you walked towards him. 

As you stood in front of him he still couldn’t let out any words. “Do you… not like it?” 

He shook his head quickly, “This is the most I have ever seen of you.” he placed a hand on your cheek. “You are truly the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” 

You searched his eyes for a hint of deceit and found none. You took the hand he placed on your cheek and sat down on the fur carpet that laid in front of the fireplace, pulling him down with you. You looked at the scar on his hand again, this time placing a kiss on the scar. 

“Thank you for what you did tonight.” He looked slightly confused, “The lie you told.” You explained.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, but then I saw how he grabbed you.” He looked down, now beginning to simmer, “No one should grab you like that.” He said in a lower tone. “If I’d a sword, I wouldn’t have to tell a lie.” He became angered thinking of it.

You moved closer to him, beginning to undo the clasps on the front of his top. He looked intimidated again suddenly, “A sword hm?” He nodded, “What would you have told him?” 

“To unhand you, or I’d remove his hand.” He said, with a darker tone of voice, it made you smile as you pulled his red leather top off, leaving him in his tunic. 

“One day you’re going to be the only honorable knight in all of Westeros.” You saw heat rush to his cheeks when you said those words. “A big strong shining warrior.” You said crawling closer to him. 

“You’re seducing me again.” He said staring at your lips, his eyes drifted downwards again to your cleavage again now further exposed by the thin fabric and the angle you were in from crawling to him. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked in a whisper,

He shook his head “No,” He said, grasping your face in his hands kissing you so deeply you let out a small moan into his lips, only making him kiss you deeper. 

His hands roamed your sides, as yours gripped the back of his neck and roamed his chest down to his stomach.

When your hand reached his stomach you felt his muscles twitch and he let out a small groan. The sound of his groan made you clench your thighs together. 

Mixed with the sounds of your breathless whimpers he felt himself stiffening, “Can I touch you?” He whispered in your ear, you nodded and he whispered back “Thank you,” As his hands cupped your breasts. He let out a moan into your mouth as he groped you, feeling the plumpness of your breasts. You couldn’t take it anymore and began to lift your night dress. You stopped yourself however, not wanting to push him, 

“Is this okay?” You asked, and he nodded frantically. To which you smiled and lifted the rest of it off. His hands gripped your breasts tighter, and his mouth moved from yours to your neck and shoulder. 

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered against your hot skin, repeating it over and over again. 

One of your hands petted his hair, while the other went over his stomach to his now tenting trousers. You heard him moan into your neck and his hands gripped you tighter, making you moan in return. 

“You sound beautiful too,” He whispered 

“Take this off” You said much less elegantly as you pulled at the fabric of his shirt. As he did you laid down on the fur carpet under you. Looking up at him as he removed his tunic. You smiled up at him, “You’re quite pretty too.” 

He shook his head in awe of you, “Not like you… You could be a painting,” He said, dropping to his knees. He leaned down and kissed your lips. Both your lips at this point were slightly swollen, but that didn’t stop either of you from continuing. Kissing with a new kind of passion. 

You felt, for a moment, this might be much more. And if it was, you didn’t want to hide from him at all. You pulled away from his lips as you blurted out, 

“I’ve been with men before you.” breathlessly, “I feel I should be honest with you.” You felt even more naked revealing that, you felt heat spread across your face.

“That’s alright.” He nodded, trying to reassure you. “And I- I have- I’ve been with women before you.” 

Your eyes went wide, you thought back to the rumors you’d heard. “You have?” You shook your head to yourself trying to shake those thoughts out of your head. “That’s alright.” You said looking back at him, you smiled softly “It is, it’s alright.” You felt a hint of excitement, pulling him back into your body and to your lips. 

You two kissed for a moment until his mouth ran down to your neck, covering your body in as many kisses as he could, making you giggle. Giggle until you feel his thumb run down the slit of your folds. Which made you gasp slightly and then smile at him, and he smiled back. 

He leaned down and began to kiss and suck on your breasts. 

You felt yourself becoming a wet and sticky mess and his thumb continued to roll up and down the slit of your folds, masterfully avoiding your clit, teasing you. 

Finally his index and middle finger parted you, while his thumb gently teased your clit. 

“Mmmmmm” you let out as you closed your eyes. 

“Do you like that?” he asked softly into your breasts, all you could do was nod as he applied more pressure. 

his teeth grazed your nipple with expertise. As though he knew just the right amount to use, how much you liked. 

He continued to kiss, suck on, and sometimes lightly bite your breasts. You felt yourself clenching around nothing as he moaned soft praises into your skin. while he kept circling your clit. 

It was beginning to be too much and not enough. “More,” you whined, “Your fingers.” you said. 

He nodded, “Show me, show me what you like.” 

you reached your hand below, rubbing your clit only a little, then you pushed a finger in. He watched as your eyes closed from the pleasure

He inserted his finger alongside yours, feeling how you moved your own finger inside you. 

The extra digit in you stretched you so nicely, you let out a small sigh as you smiled at him and he smiled back at you.

You inserted a second finger, and he followed suit. The stretch burned slightly, it had been a while since you had been with a man, and now already you’d four fingers inside you. Albeit two were smaller than the other two but still. You whined a little as you winced slightly. It made him lean down and kiss your lips. 

“You’re wonderful” he said as he kissed your jaw and your neck, pumping his fingers in you with your own guiding him. You then removed your fingers, content to let him take control. 

His fingers knew when to curl and when to relax, when to push against the soft spot in you, and knew just the right speed. No man had ever known how to draw out such pleasure from simply his fingers with you. 

“Podrick-“ you gasped at certain curl of his fingers, 

“My lady?” he said into your lips, 

“Call me my name,” you said into his, 

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)..(Y/N)…(Y/N)..” he repeated softly as he kissed your cheek, then your other cheek, then your forehead, then your eyelids, nose, and finally your lips. 

You took his face into your hands, as gently as he took yours in his. You kissed him sweetly, as you pulled away you whispered “I want to make you feel good,” 

He smiled and let out a small chuckle “I feel very good,” 

You shook your head and rubbed your palm onto his tenting trousers, making him close his eyes tightly, “I want you to feel even better.” 

Your touching continued until he was grunting and bucking into your hand, “I- I have to take these off.” He said with a bit of shame as he fumbled with the strings of his trousers. You gladly helped him with a smile on your flushed face. 

As he was freed from his pants, you took him in your hand, looking at his cock. It was bigger than you had expected, and by far the prettiest one you’d seen. Most were crooked, too thin, or too wide but his was perfect. 

“Pretty thing you’ve got there,” You said with a smile as you pulled him into another kiss. 

As you did you pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, slinging your leg over his body. 

He looked flustered with your boldness but pleased. “Thank you,” he responded. 

“You’re welcome,” You said as you lined his cock, slick with precum against your entrance. His hands gripped your hips as you lowered yourself, pushing him inside of you. 

You let out the prettiest of moans from your lips as did he. 

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you grinded him into you, in and out. The way his cock twitched inside of you hit the soft spot in you so deliciously each time, making you moan even louder. 

You looked down at him, you ran your hand against his cheek as he looked back at you with a soft smile while moans left his lips.

The look in his eyes as he watched you squirm and whimper was a look you were not accustomed to.

All of the sudden, he pulled you down and rolled you onto your back. You were face to face, his arms wrapped around your body and yours around his. Your legs around his waist as he bucked into you, again and again. The way he did it, was as if he had done it a thousand times before. 

He moved his hands to hold your face, and his other to hold your hand. 

His thumb rubbed against your cheek, sweetly. Just before it left your cheek and trailed down your body to your cunt. Rubbing your clit in circles. 

He could feel you clenching around him, his speed picked up and his mouth returned to your nipples. But his hand never left yours. 

“I’m cuming, Podrick, I- mmhmm” You whined, only making him speed up even more. 

You felt your legs shake, your toes curl, and the pressure in your stomach snap and the warmth in your core spread around his cock. You let out the prettiest of moans as you came. You gripped his hand tightly. And he peppered your chest and your neck in kisses. “I want you to cum,” You whispered as he continued to fuck into you.

“So warm… so wet.” He whimpered against your neck, “Gods, I need you.” 

His thrusts in you became more and more erratic, you anticipated his cum filling you, you anticipated the heat that would fill you. You wanted it, badly. You smiled as you saw his face contort knowing it was coming, but he pulled out and came on the ground next to you. 

You whined a little, “I wanted it,” You said in a whisper. 

“You?-” He looked confused “You wanted it?” 

You nodded, pouting a little. 

“Why?” He asked, not being able to understand it, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to- to sully your body.” He said, sweet sentiment. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈꒱꒱

After he cleaned it up, you had gotten in bed. 

He dressed himself back in his tunic and walked over to you where you pulled him into your bed. 

He held you against his body, and you held him back. He just stared into your eyes, as he pet your cheek. He admired the way you looked against the light of the fire. His eyes trailed down your body and he saw the bruises he left from his kisses on your breasts. His thumb grazed over them as he said “I’m sorry, I-’ 

“You did nothing wrong,” You said as you gripped his face and pulled him down to kiss his lips. “Do you think your Lord misses you?” You asked jokingly. 

“I think he is too drunk to notice.” He said smiling at you, “What about your Lady?” 

“I think she was too involved in Joffrey to notice.” You said with a giggle. 

“Sleep with me tonight?” You asked softly, 

He nodded and he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your neck.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

When you woke up, you were alone. 

You felt a little betrayed but you knew he had duties. 

Later that day you were ordered to check on Lord Tyrion’s injuries as the Maester was too busy to see to it himself. 

When you knocked on the door to Tyrion's chambers Bronn answered the door, he eyed you up and down, making you roll your eyes. 

“My Lord,” You said walking into Tyrion’s chambers, brushing past Bronn and avoiding his gaze. 

“Ah, the bear girl.” Tyrion said,

“(Y/N) Mormont, my Lord.” Podrick attempted to correct him, which made Bronn huff and roll his eyes. But you smiled at him, and he smiled back. 

“Yes, Podrick, I know her name. My family is holding her captive after all.” 

You smirked at his admission, ‘How’re you feeling?” You asked as you sat a leather bag of medicines and supplies on a table. 

“Oh quite pleasurable.” Tyrion said sarcastically,

You turned towards him, dropping your concerned demeanor “I need to know if it stings or itches, if it’s infected, it could spread to your eyes, you’ll go blind, it could spread to your sinuses which could make you go deaf, and if it spreads to your brain you’ll die."

“You’re a gentle flower aren’t you?” 

“Always have been. The Flower of Bear Island they called me.” You said sarcastically with crossed arms, making Tyrion huff a chuckle, “Yes and now they call me bear girl and whore, so if you could be so kind and cooperate I can see to it that you don’t die.” 

Podrick held back a smile at your strength.

“Alright, no burning, itching, or stinging. Satisfied?” Tyrion said as you sat beside him.

“Somewhat…” You said while examining the cut. 

Podricks eyes were entranced by the way your eyes darted around the Lord's scar, how you examined it with such expertise. How your eyebrows narrowed and your lips pouted slightly when you focused intensely on something. How when you wrapped a new bandage around the Lord's face you bit on your bottom lip. As he stared at your lips he thought of your first kiss, how warm and soft your lips were, he thought of your sweet taste. He wanted to grab your face and do it all over again. He was so deep into his fantasy he hadn’t even noticed Tyrion had called his name twice.  

Bronn smacked Podricks head, making him snap out of it as Tyrion repeated himself again. 

“Pod, see Lady Mormont to her chambers.” 

“Yes, my Lord.” Podrick nodded

“Oh I'm sure the lad would love that.” Bronn said as you and Podrick left the room.

Once the door to Tyrion's chamber was closed you turned to Podrick with narrowed eyes. 

“You told them?” You asked with venom.

“No, no, no I wouldn’t.” He stammered, not wanting you to believe he would do such a thing to you, “I wouldn’t. I believe I am just not very good at concealing my… interest in you.” He said softly so no one would hear. 

It made you smile. 

“I am sorry I couldn’t stay, My Lady. This morning, I couldn’t stay, Lord Tyrion would have sent someone for me.” He said softly again.

“I told you, you can call me by my name.” You said not willing to say it was alright but not willing to say it wasn’t. “Did you forget it, Podrick?” You teased him

“No, no (Y/N)” He said your name with a smile.

“Good, I thought your interest in me had finally subsided.” 

“I don’t think it could.” 

It made you smile again, 'seven hells' you thought, falling for such things.

You looked around and saw no one in the hall, you pulled him into another kiss.

NOTE:sowwy this took so long, i wuv you!

TAG LIST: @ryn-away @boojaynaqueen @holierthancunt @symonedoesart

[s0urw00lf]

Bound

“Lion” and the wolf

Jon snow x reader

Summary: you meet Jon snow and immediately take a liking to him

A/N: may be a series may not be i don’t know yet. I hope it is because I’m hyperfixated on game of thrones right now and there’s only 10 episodes per season. Also is it just me who finds season 1 Jon just adorable?

Divider from @thecutestgrotto

When your father informed you that the king, the queen, and their close relatives including you were to accompany him to winterfell to name lord Stark as his new hand after Jon Arryns passing your first initial reaction was shock, they’d never really considered you a part of their family. Cersei was all about blood relation unless married into the family and you were neither. Therefore casting you to the furthest end of the Lannister/Baratheon family tree. The only ones that really accepted you was your father, Jamie and tommen. Joffrey was way too cruel for his own good, there was no doubt in your mind that it is going to be the reason he ends up dead.

”Must I go father, you and I both know me and Cersei around one another for any extended amount of time is not good for anyone within mere miles of us.” You asked, looking at him through the mirror in your room as your handmaiden braided your hair.

”Yes you must, the king has ordered it” he replied in his usual nonchalant tone. You rolled your eyes “when are we to set off?” You asked.

“By sunrise” he replied “I’ll leave you to sleep you’re going to need it”

your father exited your chambers and soon your handmaiden helped you get settled into your nightwear.

Sleep had not come easy to you. The thought of being in a compressed space with Cersei and Joffrey you’d go as far as to say it gave you nightmares. You are a well behaved lady, you know when and when not to speak and how to butter anyone up. But when it came to the queen and her eldest son you always managed to be sent off with the threat of your head on a spike.

Most of the ride to winterfell was spent bickering with Joeffry, somehow the young prince hadn’t learned how to respect anyone outside of himself, it got so bad that you’d ended up calling him an arrogant bastard which resulted in a slap from Cersei and you riding in the back with your uncle Jamie. Only when you were outside of the walls built around winterfell did you place yourself inside the carriage so you could present yourself as the “perfect family”.

You were introduced to the Stark family after your cousins, you’d heard stories of the bastard boy of Eddard Stark who looked more like a Stark than the eldest Stark boy. He was attractive, Robb. Any woman with eyes could see that, his striking blue eyes stood out against his dark curly hair and pale face. But as you searched more carefully you couldn’t find the other eldest boy. Next to Robb stood Lady Sansa who you knew was the eldest girl but there was one missing between them.

You tapped your uncles shoulder discreetly, he hummed without taking his eyes from in front of him. “There’s a boy missing, the second eldest. Why is he not in lineup with his family?” You questioned silently, watching the king and his old friend reunite, knowing their loud voices would drown out you and your fathers whispers. “Lady Catelyn is not fond of the bastard boy, he's seen as a burden to her. Look beyond the lineup” he answered just as quietly. You frowned at that, you knew what it was like not to be wanted by your family. Blood or not, but your father always made sure you were known as his daughter proudly. He wouldn’t ever dare to hide you no matter how high or low born your guests were. How can you hate a child before he even does anything to deserve your hate?

You took your uncles advice looking beyond the line up, and that’s when you saw him, what they say about him is right, he does look more of a Stark than Robb. He was handsome both brothers were but Jon carried himself differently. Like he was waiting to be seen, accepted. His dark eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat, he looked to be observing you much like you were doing him. Your long held eye contact must’ve been caught by your uncle who light nudged you. “Careful little lioness” he warned. With that you broke your eye contact with him to look at your uncle. You weren’t sure what he meant but you knew it’d resurface later on.

Cersei greeted the lord and lady after the king, though it wasn’t as warm as his, Cersei had a way of making every moment more tense than it had to be. “Where’s the imp?” The youngest Stark girl said catching you and Cersei’s attention, she turned around and walked toward you and your uncle “where is our brother, go find the little monster” she said to your uncle. You suppressed an eye roll, though your father was your father he still felt to revel in his younger years, though you weren’t sure how he was able to slip passed everyone and escape to whatever it was he was doing.

Later that evening at the feast you were sat alone, much like always unless your father was near. You made effort to search for Jon, and was quickly dissatisfied when he was nowhere in your sights. A loud shriek broke you from your thoughts “Arya! It’s not funny she always does this” you looked over and almost snorted when you saw lady Sansa with food on her face. Your best guess was Arya decided to use her face as target practice.

You weren’t blind to the looks she and your cousin had been sending each other and you guessed the little Stark was feeling mischievous. You caught sight of the oldest Stark boy cutting his laugh short due to the look his mother gave him, he got up walking over to Arya picking her up from her seat and muttering “time for bed” he met eyes with you and sent you a friendly smile, you returned his smile with nod in acknowledgement.

Farther into the night you found yourself wandering around the castle before dinner and ended up on the training grounds. A low grunt caught your attention, you were sure everyone was readying themselves for dinner who would be at the training grounds this late. It was a boy. “So its you” you spoke, catching his attention, he paused his actions turning towards you with a confused expression before he straightened himself up, “My lady are you lost, i can esc-“ you shook your head “i am not lost lord snow-“ ”excuse me My lady, i am not a lord” he put his head down.

You tilted your head at him “you are more of a lord than i am a lady” you told him truthfully. He stared at you in silence, you looked around not noting anyone else “you are alone?” You questioned. He nodded “yes My lady.” He answered. “Would you mind accompanying me, My Lord?” You tilted your head at him giving him the slightest doe eyes. He hadn’t given you a reaction you expected but you did see the blush littering his cheeks. “Of course My lady, where are you off to?”

”I'm just out for a night stroll, it's good I found you, from what I’ve heard you're handy with a sword so I needn’t be on high guard anymore” you told him as you resumed walking. He followed right next to you “do you not have a guard” he questioned looking around to see if there were any men far behind “much to the dismay of my father, no. I can take care of myself but I don't always like to.” You said moving your goat to the side to show the sword you have stashed.

He looked intrigued by it. “It was my grandfathers i think, my father gave it to me. He said it was the last he could find of my real family.” You frowned. “You're from a high born family, that sword is made of valyrian steel” he said pointing to your sword that was back safely hidden behind your coat. “I am not sure, father won't tell me where he found it, he says he’ll tell me when i'm ready. Anyway enough of me, what about you” you asked looking up at him. “What of me?” He asked. “Do you know your mother?”.

He shook his head “even if i did im not so sure it’d change anything” he said frowning, you hated the crease between his brows. His face showed years of neglect and hatred he endeared from lady Stark and you couldn’t help but to begin to hate her for him. Suddenly you felt no need to continue talking of family, you noticed he didn’t have his furs from earlier that day on anymore. “Are you cold My Lord?” You asked gently. It was as if he had just realized he didn’t have his furs as he looked down at his attire. “We can go to my chambers and warm you, its not very far from here.” You told him.

Jon blushed at the thought “no i shouldn’t it wouldn’t be appropriate, but if you would like me to escort you-” you giggled cutting his sentence short “very noble Lord snow, yes please escort me to my chambers” you smiled, Jon nodded placing a hand on your lower back leading you further into the castle. The short walk was filled with quiet and easy conversation.

You were almost disappointed when you reached your chambers and your conversation was cut short. “Would you like to come in?” You asked, Jon paused wanting to say yes but not wanting to upset lady Caitlyn if she ever found out. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing i sent you off while your nearly freezing” you tried to persuade him. he shook his head “it would not be appropriate“ “Jon please” you begged “just a few minutes”.

Jon sighed praying to the gods hoping no one saw what he was about to do. He entered your chambers and let out a breath at the warmth. The atmosphere in the room was quiet and gentle. You removed your furs having no further need for them at the moment and placed yourself on your bed. “May i ask a question?” You asked him softly. He broke his stare from the fire and turned to you with a gentle ‘hmm’ “If you feel you do not belong here, then where do you belong?”

Jon felt weird, having never been asked that question before he felt taken aback. He lulled over his answer for a few seconds “at the wall, with my uncle and others like me” he looked down to his clasped hands, seemingly deep in thought. Your heart broke for the boy, he truly felt in some way he wasn’t welcome in his own home. “Are you ready to make that sacrifice? To never have a wife, a family. To pledge your life?” You asked.

He frowned further “No woman will wed to a bastard. My life will have more meaning there than here” He said. You tilted your head “i don't think that to be true, i think some time sooner or later your family will need you here, and if Amy woman is daft enough not to accept a marriage proposal from you then she didn't deserve you in the first place.

After that Jon excused himself from your chambers, your words weighing heavy on his shoulders. But his mind was already set, he was joining the night's watch, however that didn’t stop him from repeating your words in his head.

The next morning was when you were finally able to find your father, extremely hungover. “I Missed you yesterday” you said as you came to a halt by his side. “You missed aunt Cersei's fake smiles, uncle Jamie sizing up with lord stark and even worse. Joffrey making eyes with the stark girl.” You rolled your eyes at the last bit. Your father cleared his throat “did i also miss your night stroll with the bastard boy?” He asked.

You froze momentarily, you knew your father wasn’t in a hurry to wed you off, he’d much rather you find love than be in a loveless situation with a man two times your age. But that never stopped him from teasing you about your interests even if its very rare that you have them. “He was just accompanying me to my chambers, father” you spoke looking in every direction but his. He was the only person in the world who could read you like a book. “Ah yes, was he also warming your bed for you?” He turned toward you with a small smile. “You know i would never, i just met the boy”

“love is a fast little creature daughter” he said before walking away.

[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."

[m9yaa]

── .✦INNOCENCE; PETYR BAELISH ⟡˖ ࣪

part 1, part 2, part 3

⟡˖ ࣪ pairing: petyr baelish x fem!stark reader

⤷cw: mature content, innocence/corruption kink?, unprotected sex, age gap, power dynamic?, aged up characters, groping (non con kinda), sexual tension, sexual innuendo,

⤷summary: in which, petyr baelish seems to take an interest in you, catelyn’s and ned’s eldest daughter after the hand of the king’s arrival at king’s landing.

REQ! also not proof read!

⋮

with the help of serene, you finished getting ready.

your hair was kept simple, a half up half down style.

the dress choice of today was a pink gown with floral stitching and embroidery etched into the shoulders, neckline and mid way down your arm sleeve. it was a simple choice but a very classy and elegant one at that.

heading downstairs, the soft clinking of silverware and murmurs of conversation greeted you as you entered the dining hall. Your family was already gathered, seated at the long wooden table. They barely noticed your arrival, busy with their morning meal.

“Good morning, milady,” a servant greeted, giving you a small bow. You nodded in acknowledgment, trying to keep your composure, though inside you couldn’t shake the unease from the night before.

As you made your way to your seat, your gaze flickered over to where Lord Baelish was seated at the far end of the table. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, and the intense, knowing look he gave you made your stomach flip. You quickly averted your gaze, feeling the warmth of your face spreading.

“You seem quiet this morning,” your father remarked, raising an eyebrow as you sat down. “Something on your mind?”

You forced a smile, trying to push down the swirling thoughts in your head. “No, nothing at all,” you replied, your voice softer than you intended.

Breakfast passed in a blur of conversation, but you were distracted by the strange tension in the air, and the way Lord Baelish occasionally turned his gaze toward you. You couldn’t help but notice how his attention seemed to linger longer than it should, and the air around you seemed to grow thicker.

Finally, as breakfast came to a close, your father rose from his seat, signaling that it was time to leave. The javelin match was about to begin, and you would be accompanying the family to watch the contest. It was an event that promised excitement, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that your mind was elsewhere.

You pushed open the door, stepping outside into the crisp morning air, hoping the fresh air would clear your head. Your thoughts remained jumbled, swirling in confusion. Had it just been the proximity? The heat of the moment? You didn’t know. All you knew was that you felt unsettled, and it was a feeling you couldn’t ignore.

As you joined the others, Lord Baelish’s gaze once again met yours. This time, it was even more intense than before, as if he knew exactly what you were feeling. But how could he? You didn’t even know what was happening to you.

As you approached the horses, your thoughts still swirling, you heard the soft scrape of boots behind you. Before you could turn, a firm hand wrapped around your waist, lifting you effortlessly. Your breath caught in your throat as Lord Baelish gently but assertively placed you atop your horse. The unexpectedness of his touch sent a sudden wave of warmth through your body, and you instinctively pressed your thighs together, feeling an unfamiliar tension between them.

His hands lingered for a moment longer than necessary at your hips, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your dress before sliding down your thighs, giving them a pat.

You could feel the heat of his touch even through the layers, and it made you feel strangely... exposed. His eyes met yours, dark and knowing, but you couldn't read the expression in them. He said nothing, just stepped back, giving you space to adjust yourself in the saddle.

You swallowed, unsure of what to say.

The action, though simple, had shaken you in a way you couldn't explain. You had never been touched like that before even as innocent it may be, at least not so deliberately, and it left you feeling vulnerable yet... something else.

There was a fluttering in your chest, a confusing stir that you couldn't place.

You quickly looked away, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Are you well?" His voice was soft.

this being the first thing he’s said since yesterday.

You nodded, the words escaping you.

You weren't sure what was happening to you, and the last thing you wanted was for him to notice the way your heart raced or the flush creeping over your skin. You gripped the reins tightly, desperately trying to focus on the horses and the path ahead, but all you could feel was his presence lingering too close.

As the rest of the group mounted their horses and began to move, you followed, trying to ignore the burning heat that had settled in your chest. Lord Baelish rode alongside you, his horse moving at a steady pace, his gaze occasionally flicking to you from the corner of his eye.

The ride to the match seemed longer than it should have been. You couldn't shake the feeling of his touch, the way his hands had held you with such confidence and ease. And the strange, confusing fluttering that still hadn't subsided.

As you rode alongside Lord Baelish, the sounds of hooves striking the earth were the only things that seemed to fill the silence. The javelin match was drawing near, but your mind was elsewhere, preoccupied by the strange sensations still lingering in your body. Every time your horse’s stride shifted, you felt a light pressure between your legs, an awareness you had never experienced before. The thought of it made you flush, and you quickly looked away, hoping no one could see the heat spreading across your cheeks.

Lord Baelish, always so calm and composed, rode just a few paces ahead, his dark eyes occasionally drifting to you. You could feel his gaze even when he wasn’t looking directly at you. It made you restless, as though his very presence was pulling at something inside you that you couldn’t understand.

A sharp tug on the reins brought you out of your daze. You looked up to find the match grounds ahead, the field bustling with activity as crowds gathered in anticipation. The momentary distraction helped ground you, but the feeling of his touch from earlier still hung heavily in your chest. Your mind kept drifting back to it, and you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hands had gripped you with such assurance.

‘one little interaction with a man and this is how i’m reacting!’ you think to yourself.

As you dismounted, Lord Baelish was once again there to assist, his hands warm on your waist as he gently guided you to the ground. His touch was gentle, yet possessive, and you felt that strange ache stir again deep inside. “thank you,” you smile politely. before stepping away from him quickly, trying to focus on the spectacle unfolding before you—the shouts, the cheers, the clash of weapons. Anything to distract yourself from the disorienting feelings inside.

You stood next to your family, but your gaze kept flitting to Lord Baelish, who was speaking with a few others nearby. His eyes met yours once again, and that familiar look passed between you. It was almost as if he could see through you, as though he knew what was stirring within you, though you had no words for it yourself.

A voice beside you broke your focus. Your sister, sansa, noticing your distraction, asked, “What’s on your mind today? You’re not yourself.”

You forced a smile and turned to her, trying to push away the fog of confusion. “I’m just… thinking,” you said, though you weren’t entirely sure what you were thinking about. Your mind and body were still reacting to Lord Baelish in ways you couldn’t explain.

you opt on moving a little further back in the crowd, away from your family as you don’t want them to keep continuously asking you series of questions.

And so, you stood there, the javelin match playing out before you, but your attention was split—part of you focused on the competition, the other part still uncertain, still trying to understand why that one, small interaction between you and Lord Baelish is consuming you with thoughts of him.. ‘and his attractive face.. toned body.. an-’

Then, a collective gasp rose from the crowd. "Oooof!" The sound echoed through the air, followed by an eerie silence. You glanced up just in time to see one of the men crumple to the ground, the wooden pole of the javelin buried deep in his throat. Blood poured from the wound in thick streams, staining the sand beneath him.

You winced, the brutal image searing into your mind, but it was the reaction of the crowd that truly unsettled you. They seemed almost thrilled by the violence. It was as if they took pleasure in the life being extinguished right before their eyes. The man's body was quickly dragged away by a few servants, but the roar of excitement from the spectators didn't falter.

You shook your head, a mixture of disgust and disbelief creeping into you.

"I'll never understand how people enjoy watching this," you muttered, mostly to yourself, but loud enough that anyone nearby might hear.

To your surprise, a smooth voice replied almost immediately. "Some enjoy the thrill of it. Others simply enjoy the.. spectacle."

You turned to see Lord Baelish standing beside you, his face unreadable, though his eyes held that familiar, knowing gleam. He wasn't looking at the man being dragged away, his attention was focused entirely on you.

"You seem disturbed," he continued, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "But tell me, have you never considered that there's something rather... exciting about watching someone fight for their life?" His tone was casual, almost teasing, as though the death of the man meant little to him.

He didn't even glance at the scene unfolding before you. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on you, studying your reactions.

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of his stare. "I don't think excitement is the right word," you replied, your voice tight. "It's... unsettling."

He tilted his head slightly, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Perhaps. But there's something exhilarating about power, isn't there? Watching someone take control, even at the expense of another." His words were smooth, almost suggestive, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You glanced away, but his presence seemed to loom over you, his voice still echoing in your ears. There was something in his tone, something that made your stomach twist in a way you didn't quite understand. It was as though he was subtly pushing at the edges of your innocence, drawing out feelings you had never had to confront before.

"You're far too innocent, my lady," he murmured, as if he could sense the conflict churning within you. "But don't worry... some things are better learned firsthand."

You quickly swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken. You didn't know what to say to that-didn't even know what to think. His words were like a puzzle, each one more cryptic than the last, but they had a way of making your heart race.

Trying to shake off the confusion, you glanced back to the field, hoping the match would provide some distraction and that the now beet face red of yours would somehow cool down in the short space of time you have.

The thought of the dead man being dragged away still made your stomach turn, but Baelish's proximity only heightened the strange sensations that bubbled beneath the surface. You wished you could focus, wished you could ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest.

But his gaze remained on you, sharp, hungry, and ever-watchful.

The match continued, but the tension in the air felt thicker now. You could hardly concentrate on the javelin throwers, each of them aiming their spears with practiced precision. Instead, your attention was pulled back to Baelish, who was still standing just a step too close, casually observing the scene. His presence was almost suffocating, yet you couldn’t look away. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks again, a flush that had nothing to do with the warm sun overhead.

“You know,” Baelish said after a long pause, his voice low, just barely audible over the noise of the crowd, “you shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss… what excites others. It’s not always what it seems on the surface.” His voice held a certain smoothness to it, as if each word was carefully crafted to provoke a reaction. And it was working. You felt a strange twinge of discomfort mixed with something else, something you couldn’t quite identify.

You tried to pull yourself together, to push the confused feelings back down. “I never said I dismissed it,” you replied stiffly, your voice quieter than usual. “I just… don’t see the appeal.”

He leaned in slightly, his mouth pressed lightly against your ear, his presence suddenly overwhelming, and for the briefest moment, you felt as though you were the only two people in the crowd. “Ah, but you’re not saying that you don’t feel something. That would be a lie.” His words sent a ripple through you, leaving you breathless for a second. He was watching you so intently now, his gaze softening, like he was examining you in a way you didn’t quite understand.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. His words had cut through your defenses with unsettling accuracy. Was it possible that he knew something about you that you didn’t? The way he looked at you—it made you feel like an open book, your every secret laid bare for him to see.

“Does it… bother you?” you finally whispered, your voice shaking slightly. You hadn’t meant to ask, but the question was out before you could stop it.

His smirk deepened, and he straightened, his tone shifting to something more playful. “Not at all,” he said smoothly. “But it does make things interesting when you find someone who isn’t quite so… aware of what’s stirring inside them.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the familiar heat spreading across your body once more. The way he spoke, the way his words seemed to caress the air between you, made your chest tighten. It was almost as if he was inviting you to acknowledge something you weren’t ready to face, something that terrified you and thrilled you all at once.

The noise of the match returned with a thundering cheer as one of the competitors scored a direct hit, but it was distant to you, muffled in comparison to the pounding in your own chest. You barely even noticed the people surrounding you, the way the world seemed to continue moving around you while you stood still, caught in the weight of Lord Baelish’s gaze.

he moved himself closer behind yourself. “You really don’t understand it yet, do you?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, as though sharing some dark secret.

his body was pressed up against yours, you instinctively stiffened, but he didn’t pull away, his fingers lightly pressing against you, as though marking his territory in the most subtle way.

he’d rock his hips slowly against yours, so subtle you might think you’re imagining it. his fingers danced on the small of your back, away from the sight of any bystander.

You shook your head slightly, trying to regain control, but his presence only seemed to heighten the confusion, the disorientation you were feeling. Was this just a game to him? Or was he playing with you, testing your limits? You weren’t sure, but what you did know was that his words, his touch, they were unraveling something deep inside you, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“I—” You stopped yourself, biting your lip, unable to finish the sentence. What could you possibly say to him?

Before you could gather your thoughts, the final javelin was hurled with a sharp, whistle-like sound, its force sending a man crashing to the ground, an unfortunate casualty of the match. The crowd’s reaction was a mixture of gasps and excited shouts as the fallen competitor was dragged off the field, lifeless, with the javelin still lodged in his throat.

You stood at the edge of the arena, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene.

“Quite the display, don’t you think?” His voice came low, just behind your ear. There was no sign of discomfort in his tone—only a quiet satisfaction, as if the death of the man meant nothing at all to him.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on his words instead of the way his touch was making you feel, the way your pulse quickened at the proximity. “It’s… terrible,” you managed, your voice more fragile than you wanted it to be.

Baelish’s hands didn’t move, but his fingers tightened just slightly, as if he knew exactly what your discomfort was. “People enjoy it because it’s a reminder of power,” he said, his words soft, his tone deceptively casual. “A reminder that at any moment, your life could be taken from you. It makes them feel alive, even as they watch someone else die.”

You turned your head, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. You hadn’t expected him to speak with such indifference, to make such a chilling comment with no hint of empathy. But then again, Baelish had always been a man of cold calculation, never one for sentimentality.

“It’s… disturbing,” you whispered, your thoughts scattered as your chest tightened. His touch still lingered on your back, his presence too close, too overwhelming. It felt like an invisible thread was pulling you toward him, one you didn’t know how to resist.

Baelish’s lips brushed your ear as he spoke again, his voice now a tantalizing whisper. “You don’t like it. But you can’t deny it has a certain… pull.” His breath was warm against your skin, his tone taking on an almost teasing quality. “You feel something, don’t you? Even if you don’t want to.”

You stiffened, has he found you out..?

“I don’t…” You started to protest, but the words faltered as his touch remained firm, the pressure of his hands against your back both soothing and intrusive. “I don’t know what you mean.” you play coy and stupid.

His smile was faint, but it was enough to make your stomach flip. He didn’t respond right away, instead allowing a beat of silence to hang between you, before he spoke again, his voice now soft, coaxing.

“you know what i mean, just don’t be too quick to dismiss your own feelings.” His hand shifted just slightly on your back, fingers brushing against the curve of your waist. “what you’re feeling is natural, don’t push it away.” petyr says as his hands now move further down south, running his hands over your ass, groping the flesh subtly.

You felt a flush creep up your neck as you let out a soft yelp at the sudden attack, not only that but the words hitting you like a splash of cold water.

Before you could find your voice, Baelish lightly guided you away from the arena, his hand never leaving your behind. The sound of the crowd, the cheers, the dying echoes of the match, seemed to fade into the background as you followed him, still reeling from the strange combination of emotions swirling inside you.

⋮

hellooo! i was planning on making the smut part in this part but i felt like i rambled on too much and it’d be too long to add the smut part in now so it shall be in the next chapter, sorryy :(

anyways, thank you for reading and if you enjoyed it, don’t hesitate to like, share or reblog this post. thank you!

- maya 🪼

[countrymusiclover]

The Last Velaryon

Haelesa is the last daughter of the Velaryon tree, and her house is in danger of dying out. So her father decides to convince Tywin to make her and Jaime wed. Yet when she rides North with the royal family, she can't help but fall for the young wolf Robb Stark.

1 - The Arrangement

2 - Swords and Winterfell

3 - The Feast pt 1

4 - The Feast pt 2

5 - The Wedding I Didn’t Choose

6 - Revealing Letters

7 - The Waring Battlefield

8 - The Truth of Jaime Lannister

9 - The Language of Desire

10 - Misunderstood Communication

11 - Loyalties Can Change

12 - Spared by the King

13 - We Control the Fleets, not People

14 - Is A Change Of Heart Too Late

15 - The Handmaiden’s Admirer

16 - A Stark and A Velaryon

17 - Possibly Changing the War

18 - Dealing with House Frey

19 - Three Very Important Words

20 - His Closet Betrayal

21 - The Fate of Jaime Lannister

22 - The Fire of a Best Friend

23 - Forgiveness Isn’t Too Easy

24 - The Unlikely Pair

25 - The Future Lady Lannister

26 - Land Lords meet Sea Lords

27 - Land Lords meet Sea Lords pt 2

28 - The New Stark Family

29 - Needing More Allies

30 - Messages of War

31 - The Stag King

32 - Tiny bit of Hope

33 - There’s no pause in War

34 - The Secrets We Keep

35 - The Wolf Shows It's Teeth

36 - The Handmaiden and the Dwarf

37 - The Stark Trial

38 - Who Should We Really Trust

???

Comments / reblogged thoughts really appreciated ❤️

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @1not-today-satan1

@melvia-ito

[arsenic-catnep]

PLEASE! reactions to sandor, theon, jorah, jon, tyrion, sansa and missandei for praising them during sex?

I just did the men for this one, my character limit is 4 but I couldn't choose so I did all of them

Sandor buries his face into the crook of his lovers neck. His face flushing at their words, his hips don't slow however. He opts to kiss at their delicate skin, trying to ignore the praise. It's not as though he doesn't like it, he just feels as though he doesn't deserve it. The praise keeps coming however, his lover keeps mumbling how good he feels and how amazing he is.

He sits up, bringing his lover with him. Sandor holds them close, their chests pressed together, then his lips find theirs. A desperate attempt to silence them as he keeps thrusting, bouncing them on his cock. Their arms wrap around him, as well as their legs. Clinging to him as he fucks them mercilessly. They make a note to praise him like that more often if this is how he'll react.

Theon is cocky about it, smirks and thrusts into his lover even harder. "You like that huh?" his hands wander and he gropes at every part of their body. Even if he doesn't fully believe that he's the best man out there, he makes his lover moan and squirm and cum. That's all that matters to him. Theon makes sure they'll remember him even if they leave him, he's the best cock they'll ever have.

His fingers pinch at his lovers nipples, he loves the way they squeal at the sensation. His cock plows into them, the wet sound of their slick and his hot precum is downright selacious. He wants to hear more about how good he feels, how hot he is. If he had it his way, he'd never leave his lovers bed.

Jorah can't help but get flustered when he hears the praise. His heart climbs up his throat as his lover moans and tells him how amazing he's doing. He leans down, his head resting against their chest. His thrusts don't slow down, in fact he angles his hips to go deeper. He opts to kiss their soft skin and hide his face from them. Jorah knows he shouldn't feel embarrassed, but how can someone so perfect love someone like him?

His hands roam their body, tracing down their sides and groping their hips. Pulling them against him and losing himself in their love. He believes that if he doesn't acknowledge the praise, he doesn't have to accept it. He can't accept it, not a man like him.

Jon doesn't register his lovers words at first. He's so lost in them, wanting to make them feel as good as possible. When they repeat themselves, it hits him. He can't help but pick up his pace, he wants to hear it again. His hips angling in such a way that his cock goes deeper than before. Again and again his lover praises him, calling him a good boy and moaning that he feels heavenly.

He doesn't believe their words, not really. But it doesn't stop Jon from drinking them down like a deserted man. He knows that outside of this bed he isn't good, though he tries. No, the only place he's truly good and thoroughly skilled is right here between his lovers legs.

Tyrion lives for praise, craves it and works hard for it. He knows he's good in bed, downright godly even. The words of his lover fuel his ego, he'd laugh and smile, asking if they want him to fuck them stupid. He loves to hear how good he's doing, how good his cock feels up inside them. He's thrusting his hips into theirs, hands roaming, he wants to hear more. Tyrion will keep going long after he and his lover cum, he doesn't want them to stop praising him.

He knows that when he pulls out, and they get cleaned up, that the praise ends. He doesn't want it to, perhaps that's why most of his free time is spent in brothels. Either way, he'll revel in his lovers words for as long as they can last.

[ohmy-zabrak]

🌙 Have this part of my wip because we need more silly Hound content 🌙

"Oh, have a cock do you?" The Hound snorts.

"I do, it's massive. Bigger than your's even."

To Bronn and Tyrion's surprise...the Hound giggles. "Let's see it then."

The sound of rustling blankets through the wall.

"No, he's shy," Lady Alice says. "Knock it off, you're scaring him!" She giggles.

The sounds of wrestling.

"There's no cock here-"

Alice yelps but it turns into a moan.

[fandom-puff]

It's absolutely fine if you are not comfortable with it, but could I please request happy, tipsy sex with Tyrion Lannister? Preferably with an established relationship? Again no pressure if that doesn't work, thank you! xx

Thank you for your request- hope you enjoy!!

Tipsy

Pairing: Tyrion Lannister x reader

Warning: drunk sex (both Tyrion and reader are at the same level of tipsiness; neither is blackout drunk), alcohol consumption

Gif creds to owner

“More wine, my lady?”

You nodded and with a grin held out your goblet for Tyrion to fill, not moving until he had filled it to the brim, making Bronn laugh.

It had been a pleasant evening; a new shipment from Dorne had come into King’s Landing, and Tyrion had a few bottles of the finest Dornish red brought up to his chamber. Between you, him, Bronn and Podrick, you had cleared off nearly all of the bottles and the effects were beginning to show. Podrick was slumped in his chair, dozing with a small smile on his face, the occasional snore sounding from him. Bronn had started to slur and put a ‘fuck’ or a ‘cunt’ in every other sentence.

And you and Tyrion had been eye-fucking each other for the best part of an hour.

Tyrion drained his cup before setting it down. “Bronn, Podrick, leave us,” he said suddenly, his eyes never leaving yours.

Bronn kicked Pod’s leg. “Come on, lad. Else you’ll end up watching your Lord fuck his lady,”

Any other time you would’ve shot the sellsword an indignant look… but right now you had eyes only for your Lion of Lannister, but when the door slammed shut, it was you who pounced, your lips pressing to his in a feverish kiss.

“My, my, sweet YN,” Tyrion groaned between kisses. “It seems the Dornish gets you hot,”

You tugged on his lower lip, your fingers knotting in his hair, one hand trailing down to the straining bulge at the front of his breeches. “Should say the same for you, Husband,” you murmured, voice low and sultry, your hand closing around his cock. Tyrion watched with amusement and longing as you fumbled with the strings of his breeches, releasing his pulsing cock and taking it (albeit clumsily) into your mouth.

“YN,” he rasped, tugging at your hair until you released him with a lewd, wet noise. “I won’t last long in your pretty mouth,” you pouted up at him, your lips slightly swollen. “I’d much rather spill my seed in your tight little cunt,”

He laughed at how quickly your face brightened, and he pulled you up from the floor. You grinned, pushing him back on the plush couch, squealing as he reached up and tore the bodice of your dress, admiring the swell of your breasts as he tugged at the strings of your corset. Soon you were stripped bare, straddling him on the couch. He grasped at your thighs as you lowered yourself to his cock, his fingers fluttering through your wetness briefly. He grunted as his tip slid between your folds, before your plunged him deep inside you with a throaty moan.

“Gods,” he groaned as you rode his cock. “Oh, Gods,”

“Now’s not the time for prayer, my Lord,” you reminded him. “Unless, of course, you want to fuck me in the Great Sept of Baelor,”

Your words spurred Tyrion on, and he met your movements with thrusts of his own, and he relished in the way your eyelids fluttered. “Such-ah- blasphemy, my sweet wife,” Tyrion groaned, “wine turns you into quite the little harlot it seems,”

“Tyrion,” you moaned out, gripping onto his shoulders for leverage, and he smiled as he felt your movements stutter. “Tyrion, please,”

“Too focused on my cock to listen to me, Hmm?” Tyrion teased, pinching your nipple. “Come for me then, YN, let me feel you,”

You would’ve came with or without his bidding, your cunt fluttering around his thick cock as you cried his name, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his orgasm quickly following yours as he filled your clenching pussy with his seed. “Fuck, YN, good girl,” he praised, and as you fell forward onto his chest, he smiled, kissing the top of your head.

Clumsily, you managed to make it to bed (tripping over an empty bottle along the way) and into your Lion’s arms. Your head would ache on the morrow, but the ache in your thighs would be worth it.

[anxiousfanchild]

Tyrion Drabble

Word Count: 288

Content Warnings: NSFW- MINORS DNI.

Requests are open and encouraged!

Donations towards my wedding are accepted: Ko-fi

A/N: I'm going to start pumping out smutty drabbles when I don't have requests, just to bring more attention to the account.

.·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.

Tyrion was never very vocal in bed, so when you hear the soft groans that tumbled from his lips as you rode him slowly, you couldn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach. Your hips jutted down and rolled sloppily as your slowly approached your orgasm. You look down at your lover, his eyes closed, lips slightly parted as he simply enjoyed you taking control for once. His hands laid loosely on your hips, nails slightly digging into your delicate skin. 

Your lips part, and you tilt your head back to moan softly. With you going so slow, you could feel his cock twitch in you, which in turn caused our pussy to spasm slightly. The knot in your stomach began to tighten, and you move your hips a little faster. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t do that.” Tyrion scolds softly, digging his nails deeper into your hips. He stopped your movements completely, a pathetic whine leaving your throat. “I don’t want you to finish yet, love.”

Looking back down at him, his eyes catching your own. His hands start to move you again, slowly. Your head tips down, chin to your chest as you give another groan. Fast enough to keep you stimulated, but slow enough to keep you teetering on the edge of an orgasm. 

“Tyrion, please.” You mutter, voice barely audible. “Please, I’ve been so good for you.”

He seems to consider this, a half smirk gracing his features.

“That is true, but it gets you nowhere, my dear. You forget, while you may be above me now, you are still whimpering my name, as if it was a prayer to the gods. Now shut your pretty little mouth, and let me take care of you, yes?”

[promptthebear]

Oh my god I just found you through AO3! I'm so excited to read your other works! If you wouldn't mind, I would love to hear some of your headcannons for Tyrion! 🧺

Okay, so I thought a lot about this one and well, this is what I decided on so hopefully it’s okay 🫣

In my defence, I’ve been lurking on the Tyrion x Reader tag for a loooong while and always secretly hoped someone would do this first but unfortunately not so here goes.

PS. This ended up being so long holy shit. Some of these prompts ending up being almost mini fics in their own right. Wish I could say I'm sorry about it...but my Mom taught me not to lie so.

🔥Tyrion Lannister NSFW Alphabet🔥

CW: Brief mentions of canon typical assault and violence. Discussions of soft dom/sub dynamics. Also what it says on the tin, discussions of sex and sexual content.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Say it with me now, this man is an aftercare KING. To him, it’s almost as important as the main event, a good story needs a satisfying epilogue after all.

This is partially from his years of experience, but also his own desire to feel loved. We all know Tyrion’s met his needs exclusively with sex workers since Tysha left his life. He knows how awful it is to wake to an empty bed and cold sheets, but is also very much aware that’s part and parcel with the life he’s chosen.

When you come around, whether that’s through a spontaneous relationship or an arranged marriage, Tyrion wants to give you the full benefit of all he has to offer. It’s pretty normal for you to spend hours cuddled up in bed, basking in the after glow, talking about nothing in particular and feeding each other little bites of food and sips of wine.

If you’re really lucky, Tyrion might also read a little to you from whatever book he’s got on hand. He loves nothing more than to have you rest your head against his bare chest while he murmurs into your hair about history or herb sciences or whatever’s caught his interest this week.

Tyrion also isn’t opposed to helping you clean up or having a shared bath. You can bet he’d be extremely gentle and attentive, taking extra care with anywhere on your body that may be sore or sensitive. He’ll also get frequently distracted from the task at hand to stop and tell you how beautiful you are, how much he cares about you and to cover your face and body in soft kisses.

This man just has a lot of love to give, and when you have his trust and commitment, he’s going to be thrilled at finally having someone to share it with. Every once and awhile, you’ll catch him running his hands over your body while you’re together, like he’s trying to memorize every inch before you disappear. Enjoy those moments, it means he’s finally starting to let his walls down and accept you’re sticking with him for good.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Okay, so these two are going to be really obvious but I’ll explain, I promise. There’s not a lot Tyrion likes about himself. He’s accepted what he is, but that doesn’t mean he always likes it. However, when pressed he’ll admit that what he’s most proud of are his mind and his cock.

His mind is a given. It’s what keeps him alive and valuable in the political minefield that is King’s Landing. Without that, who knows what would have happened to him? He also loves when he can use his wit to make you smile or gods willing, laugh. Your laughter is the most precious sound in the world to Tyrion and he loves that he can be the cause behind it.

As for his cock, well, it’s mentioned in the books that Tyrion feels like in the dark, he feels and can be the same as any other man. He truly seems to feel that in the bedroom, it’s the one other place his size doesn’t matter. His equipment works as well as anyone else’s, and he’s very proud of all the pleasure it brings you.

When it comes to his lover, Tyrion really only has two priorities. He likes breasts and a good heart. Everything else is just gravy.

Based on his love scenes with Shae in the books, I feel like Tyrion is a big fan of boobs. He even jokes about it when he meets Oberyn about how a tit in his mouth is the only thing that can still stop him fussing. Also, see the gif above lol. Whenever he’s had a hard day, Tyrion wants nothing more than to open your dress, and bury his face into your chest where he can lose himself in the softness of your skin and scent of your perfume.

Breast size also isn’t a deal breaker for Tyrion. As far as he’s concerned, any breasts of any shape or size are wonderful. If you’ve ever felt self conscious about what’s in your corset, that won’t be a problem after Tyrion’s got his hands on you. He spends so much time caressing and kissing them that you start to love them as much as he does. And if anyone makes any snide remarks about you not being well endowed enough? Well, Tyrion’s got some extra creative ways to make them reconsider that train of thought.

Above all else though, he needs someone kind. He’s been surrounded with liars and people who are trying to manipulate him for so long, that in the end he figures that's all there is for him. Of course, the second he realizes hes with someone a little too like Cersi or any number of the social climbers at court, then things are going to go tits up. That relationship will crash and burn so quickly, and the fall out is incredibly messy. Tyrion will then turn to drink and brothels to lessen his pain, meets a new distraction who smells an opportunity and the vicious cycle starts all over again. Which is not to say any of the women Tyrion finds himself with during this time are to blame for being insincere, they're trying to survive same as anyone else and hes a promising meal ticket.

If anything, the fault for this lies with Tyrion’s own self destructive tendencies and all the bullshit Tywin’s put into his head over the years. His father has allowed his son so few opportunities to have love and be loved, that whether he knows it or not, Tyrion keeps choosing poor matches to keep one step ahead of Tywin and be hurt on his own terms. Heartbreak is heartbreak, but having pain you control is slightly better than having it forced on you at any given moment.

The best chance you have of breaking this pattern and actually have a genuine relationship with Tyrion is by being sweet with him. He’s going to fight it at first, kindness is so alien to him that he takes it as exploitation at face value and will either brush it aside with a well placed quip or outright deny it to your face. Have a little patience. Tyrion has wrapped his hurt around his heart like a protective shell, but once he realizes you’re different and truly care about him, hooo boy. The flood of affection and loyalty you’ll get from him will be unparalleled, so it’s well worth the wait.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Over the years, Tyrion’s found some pretty creative places to deposit his seed. It just kind of happens when you frequent brothels exclusively. As much as those places PROMISE the women won't give you a bastard, pretty words don't mean a whole lot when an unplanned child shows up on your doorstep, so Tyrion’s learned to be extra cautious.

If the two of you aren’t married or just casual lovers, Tyrion will probably keep that same practice if only to preserve your honour. Your mouth, breasts and stomach are perfectly good options as far as he’s concerned, be ready to hear some “pearl necklace” jokes out of him.

If the two of you are married though? Inside, hands down, 100%. With your consent that’s always where he wants to finish, both because of the closeness it creates between the two of you and also the added benefit of possibly getting you pregnant. To Tyrion, this is a true testament to how much you love and trust him, and a way to mark you to others as his and his alone. Just knowing you want to be with him and bear his children can be as much of a turn on for him as the actual sex itself.

Sometimes when he’s done, he’ll sit back and spread your legs to have a nice, long look at his handiwork. It‘s just so satisfying to see his cum dripping out of your cunt, and odds are this’ll have him raring to go again before your first orgasm is completely out of your system. The two of you won’t have any problems producing an heir, trust me.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There’s not a lot Tyrion keeps to himself when it comes to sex. He’s a pretty open book, and when you’ve visited every brothel from the North to the last port before the Free Cities, sometimes your secrets get told for you.

However, the one thing Tyrion’s managed to keep out of public knowledge is an ongoing fantasy he’s had about fucking his lover or wife in his father’s bedroom at Casterly Rock.

It’s not that Tyrion wants to be his father necessarily, as much as he jokes about being Tywin made again on half the scale. It’s more so about taking control in a way that would shock and appall Tywin, with a hint of added vengeance for what happened to Tysha. His father has had his fingers in Tyrion’s private matters for so long that he’d love nothing more than to finally turn the tables and truly make Casterly Rock his “whorehouse” like Tywin’s always feared.

I don’t think this is a fantasy he’d ever admit to anyone though, not even to you, no matter how drunk he gets or how long you’ve been together. It’s too strange and too petty to suggest to anyone…right?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

We all know it, our boy has had more lovers in the short time he’s been alive than some men will ever see in a thousand lifetimes. The benefit to this, though, is he’s had some amazing teachers and has learned some pretty special skills he can’t wait to try with you.

If you’re a virgin when the two of you meet or married, then Tyrion will take excellent care of you, making sure you’re safe, comfortable and cumming until you don’t know your own name. But if you're on the more experienced side? Well, get ready to be put through your paces, Tyrion wants to see what you’re really made of and maybe show you some new things along the way.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Now, Tyrion’s tried every position in recorded human history and invented some new ones just for kicks. But, unfortunately, if there’s a significant height difference between you two then his size is something you'll need to be mindful of. There are some positions that just won't be comfortable or even pleasurable for either of you, regardless of foreplay or flexibility.

Since he’s aware and very accepting of his limitations, there are a few tried and true positions Tyrion falls back on because he’s found that they’re consistently enjoyable for both him and his partner, while still allowing for some variation.

The first of these is, unsurprisingly, cowgirl. Having you on top is the easiest way to negate any major differences in height or physicality. It’s also a lot less painful for Tyrion’s legs, and allows him easy access to your clit and breasts, as well as having full view of your face so he can gauge your enjoyment. This position also affords itself to different paces, whether you're going for something soft and sweet with gentle words whispered between quiet grasps, or something more frantic and rougher where Tyrion meets you thrust for thrust by grabbing hold of your ass and pushing his hips up against yours.

There’s also just something about letting you have control of your pleasure and the sight of you hovering above him like some kind of sensual goddess that leaves Tyrion entranced. He absolutely loves watching you come undone above him, every slight shift in your expression, every little noise you make, they’re all incredibly precious to him. If he’s ever particularly distracted in his work, if he’s messing up his sums or seems miles away listening to petitions at court, you know it’s because he’s reliving these beautiful moments again in his mind and wondering how to make next time even better for the two of you.

Now, while Tyrion values sex for the romance and intimacy it can create between partners, there are also many times where he’s in desperate need of stress relief and the only way he’s going to get it is by fucking it out of you. On days where court has gone on for longer than usual, or the council is being extra stupid or Joffery has somehow managed to reach new levels of depravity yet again, the only position Tyrion is interested in is doggy style.

Everything about this position with him is going to be fast, rough, and probably a little messy. As soon as you’ve given him the go ahead, he’s pushing you onto the nearest flat surface and rucking your skirts and petticoats up to your navel. Any foreplay you have is going to be rushed, Tyrion’s not normally a selfish lover but when he gets like this, all he wants is to have you ready enough so as not to cause you pain. You can expect him to work you over quickly with two of his fingers thrust into your cunt and his mouth attacking your clit relentlessly. The second he feels you start getting wet, it’s all he can do to mutter “turn over” between clenched teeth and then he’s on you like a man possessed

From this point, the best advice I can give you is to hang on for dear life, because this isn’t going to be the Tyrion you’re used to. He’s basically going to use you like a human cocksleeve, gripping onto fistfuls of your skirts and thrusting into you at breakneck speeds. The change in angle would also allow him to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars, again and again. It’s both too much and not enough all at once, and you’d be a whimpering mess within minutes, not that Tyrion would take any notice. Normally, he’s very attentive but in this moment he’d been far too concerned with chasing his own pleasure, a far off look in hi eye as he grunts and moans softly with each push of his hips.

When he finally cums, it’s like some strange spell over him finally breaks. He’d bed over your back, shoving his face against the fabric of your dress to muffle his half strangled cry. You’d be pretty much collapsed at this point, your elbows long since given out supporting you in the face of so many quick fire orgasms. Tyrion would pull out of you, shaky and breathing hard, and somehow manage to walk on wobbling legs around to where he can look you in the eye. He’d push your sweaty hair back from your face, and cup your flushed cheeks in his hands like he’s afraid you might break into a thousand pieces.

The first words out of his mouth would then be “I’m sorry” as he pulls you into his waiting embrace and brings up a hand to cup the back of your head. He’d hold you like that for a long while, apologizing profusely for being so rough with you and explaining about all the bullshit he endured today, and how thankful he is that he can come home and have you here to take care of him. He’d be so worried he’s hurt you, and all but weeps in relief when you manage a tired smile and a soft “It’s alright. I know, things have been tough on you. You didn’t hurt me, I’m okay.” Expect lots of extra attention from him and treats tonight, as well as a long hot bath in your future.

When Tyrion isn’t trying to screw his problems away, I can also see him actually enjoying missionary a fair bit. While it isn’t the most ideal position, he can’t kiss you as much as he wants and being on his knees for so long will have his legs spasming for awhile afterwards, it does have its merits. He loves being able to play with your clit so easily, and the feel of your ankles hooking around his back. This position also gives him the perfect angle to bury his face in your breasts and he’s cum like that on more than one occasion.

Tyrion is also a bit of a romantic at heart, though he wouldn’t admit that for love or money. The fact that this position is so traditional in its essence is actually something he really enjoys. It reminds him of his first time with Tysha, the two of them fumbling and in love and having no clues about sex beyond this one basic thing. There’s so little that hearkens back to happier times in Tyrion’s life, the few things that allow him to do so, he’ll want to cherish them at every opportunity.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh gods, Tyrion is secretly the biggest goofball. You see a little bit of it in the books when he’s teasing Tysha and Shae, and if you’re receptive to that kind of thing he’ll be more than happy to provide it for you. This man could be buried in you to the hilt and pausing to crack jokes. If someone happens to fart or make a strange sound or maybe experience a sudden onset cramp? No worries, Tyrion will take it in stride with plenty good humour.

When you’ve had sex as many times as he has, you quickly realize it’s not as pretty or seamless as the stories and songs often depict. In the real world, people and their bodies are flawed. Things don’t always go as planned even when you’re being intimate, and being able to experience everything you have to offer no matter how embarrassing is what Tyrion considers to be one of the many pleasures of being with you. Besides, if you don’t laugh at yourself first, other people don’t hesitate to do it for you, so why not beat them to the punch?

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the caret match the drapes? etc.)

So I feel like shaving and waxing isn’t really a “thing” in Westeros, outside maybe some of the more exotic brothels closer to the Free Cities and such. This means that Tyrion goes au naturel so to speak, and while he’s not as hairy as some men, he’s got a healthy patch of thick, reddish blonde curls down there. If it’s causing you discomfort or itching, he’d be happy to trim it back the same way he would his beard but I doubt he’d ever go completely bare down there either.

The added benefit of this is also that Tyrion wouldn’t expect you to remove your pubic hair either. If anything, he’d probably be a little uncomfortable with the idea? It would make you seem almost child-like, which would most certainly turn him off completely. He wants to be with a grown woman, and all that implies. A little hair isn’t going to bother him any.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

So, if the two of you are friends with benefits or this is a “transactional” relationship let’s say, Tyrion isn’t going to really push for intimacy. This is mostly because he doesn’t want to get too close to you, in case it gets him hurt again. He’ll be friendly and respectful, but don't expect any spontaneous compliments during sex or for him to stay with you too long afterwards. As far as he’s concerned, that kind of entanglement doesn’t end well for anyone involved but we also know this man is going to have a hard time keeping his emotions out of it no matter how hard he tries.

If the two of you are married or have a committed relationship? Oh. My. God. Extra won’t even begin to cover it.

A much as he claims to be selfish and cynical, Tyrion’s a giver by nature. When he falls for you, he’s going to fall hard and he’ll want to let you know any way he can. He’ll basically be spouting off the cuff poetry while the two of you are having sex with the compliments he’s giving. He’ll shower you with sweet talk, kisses, anything you want. If you’re a rose petal and candle kind of gal, you can expect that too. If he can’t provide what you want, he’ll learn how to or find a way to get it for you. Hell, if you mention your favourite colour to him even just in passing, he'd probably redecorate his bedhcambers to suit your preference. After a lifetime of being treated like dogshit, you’d have this man wrapped around your little finger, so please please please be kind to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

It’s pretty much book canon that Tyrion jerks off…a lot, and while his preference is always going to be to look to you for his needs, unfortunately his job calls him away a lot. If he’s especially fond of you, he might even move you out of Kings Landing entirely and into The Rock at the first opportunity, just to keep you safe. When distance is an obstacle, he’d probably go back to the company of his hands most evenings, though now he’s at least got you to fantasize about. Don’t be surprised if one of your scarves or hair ribbons or even some of your smallclothes go missing right after Tyrion leaves home again. You’ll get them back, I promise, your lover just needs a little “motivation” while he’s away.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Acts of service/ Service dom: So, most of his life, Tyrion’s had to take care of himself and also has been denied a lot of opportunities to offer his care to other people. The result of this is that he craves any chance to experience either, especially where any kind of intimacy is involved. I truly see Tyrion as a switch, so he’ll want to use acts of service as both the submissive and dominant partner, even if Westeros hasn’t provided the vocabulary to label these experiences as such.

For example, he loves taking care of you. If you want him to brush your hair, he’s happy to comply. Help you dress yourself if your maid’s been “given the morning off?” Yes ma’am. Run you a bath and assist you with washing? Say the word and hes there. Now, in these moments you may appear to be the dominant one, but thats nowhere close to the truth. By allowing yourself to be vulnerable, you’re giving Tyrion the power and control, but he’d never take advantage of it. At most, he’s a soft dom. He may occasionally give orders or make decisions for you, but he does so only after reminding you that you can ask him to stop at any time.

This is also just such a self indulgent fantasy, but I can see him being the type of dom to make a pet out of his lover? Not pet play exactly, but he’d refer to you as his “good girl” or precious one and have you sit, naked and kneeling on a silk pillow while your head resting on his thigh as he works or reads. He'd stop often to stroke your hair or speak to you softly, or maybe feed you a tasty little morsel or give you a sip of wine if you were willing. Theres no sadomasochism about this situation though, it comes from a place of nurturing and Tyrions desire to provide for you to the point where you don't have to do a thing for yourself.

When Tyrion plays the submissive, it looks very different. Your role as the dominant would be to assert yourself as a caretaker as well, so Tyrion actually takes a break from working and focuses on some selfcare for once. This can include massaging his back and legs, drawing a hot bath and helping him clean up or feeding him dinner, bite by bite. Tyrion would be the most willing submissive, and though he grumbles on principle he wouldn’t be bratty or need any sort of punishment besides maybe a gentle scolding now and again. Reaching this level of trust and intimacy with you is like his ultimate fantasy, so much of his life demands that he be in control that relinquishing it, even for a few hours, would be nothing short of paradise.

Overstimulation: So, we all know, Tyrion’s a very skilled lover. He knows tricks with his mouth and fingers that would surprise even Oberyn Martell, and he can make you cum faster than you ever thought possible. He loves to do this again and again, until you’re a shaking, babbling mess, only to push one more orgasm out of you. He really just wants to give you as much pleasure as you can take at any given moment and then a little more just because he loves you. It also can become sort of a competition thing between the two of you? I can absolutely see him looking up from between your legs, your release still on his lips while he smirks and you let out a “Fuck!” that indicates you’ve cum yet again. He’d give your cunt a gentle pat, arch his brow and ask “Do you think she’s had enough?” to which you’d let out a huff and stubbornly announce “Not even close” only to regret those words when you find yourself limping around the castle the next day.

The Book Game: I don’t know what else to call this, but basically that thing where you read something while your partner pleasures or fucks you and if you moan you don’t get to cum yet? This would be Tyrion’s absolute FAVOURITE thing, as it involves the best of both worlds, literature and sex. Watch out though, this man plays dirty and will probably hand you an erotic novel just make things more interesting.

Mutual masturbation: I don’t know why, but I just feel like Tyrion would be into this??? It probably comes back to how he wants to feel desirable and have someone look at him in all his naked glory without any outright disgust. If the two of you are doing this, expect Tyrion to light more than the usual amount of candles. He just wants to see you, to bask in your beauty as you get yourself off. Bonus points if he’s allowed to give you instructions while you do so.

Body worship: Oh Lord, is Tyrion ever into this one. If it’s your first time, he’d probably just do it to increase your pleasure and comfort with him touching you. And then it turns into a habit. The first time he does it, it’s while he’s undressing you. With your consent, he’d carefully remove your clothing and kiss each new inch of bared skin like his life depends on it. It’s only when you’re tingling all over and practically begging him to fuck you that he’d relent. Afterwards, I can see him making sort of a silly game out of it, naming each part of you he likes best before kissing on that same spot. Spoiler alert though, he loves all of you so he’s going to kiss everywhere.

Marking: Yes, but only for love bites and hickies. It’s a point of personal pride for Tyrion to show everyone that not only are you his, but you are more than happy to let him love on you. I can imagine that Cersi or his father are giving him shit one morning at breakfast because you aren’t pregnant yet, only for the two of them to immediately shut up when you walk into the dining room with a massive, fuck off hickey nestled in your cleavage. Tyrion would smirk into his coffee, and then wrap his arm around you shoulder and plant a kiss on your temple after you sit down next to him. You'd probably be beet red, knowing everyone is staring and why, but Tyrion doesn’t give a single fuck. He’d look his family dead in the face and ask “Anything else to add?” but all he’d get is a stony silence from Cersi and some derisive muttering from Tywin. At the very least, you’d have a few peaceful meals for a little while.

Spoiling: So this one is a little dicey. On the one hand, Tyrion doesn’t appreciate feeling like he’s being used for his family’s money. On the other hand, it’s deeply satisfying to him to use said money to get you whatever your little heart desires. All you have to do is mention you like something in passing and it’s yours. If you have any particular hobbies, Tyrion will make sure you’re well stocked with any supplies you need to do them. He also loves keeping you adorned in the finest jewels. I’ve always had a personal headcanon that he’d give his wife a very extravagant House Lannister pendant, a golden lion the size of your fist with ruby eyes on a thick, braided chain. Tywin would of course gripe at him for the extravagance, which Tyrion would wave off without a second thought. Also, he'd probably fuck you at some point while you’re wearing it lol.

Lingerie: The selection available in Westeros for this kind of thing probably isn’t super extensive, but what is available Tyrion will take full advantage of. It really gets him all hot and bothered that he’s the only one who gets to see you in this kind of stuff, and the feel of silk and lace under his fingers is an added bonus in an already pleasurable experience.

Praise Kink: Oh gods above and below, does Tyrion ever have a praise kink. Hardly anyone has had a kind word for this man in his whole life, so when he does hear any he goes completely feral. Please, tell him what a good boy he is and how good he’s making you feel and how handsome he is. He will absolutely lose his goddamn mind, as well as sell his soul to you on the spot. Tyrion will also return the favour if that’s something you want. He’s going to lavish on the compliments and flattery every chance he has, he’ll tell you you’re his stunning goddess of love and beauty and mean every word from the bottom of his heart.

Breeding: It takes a lot of work to get him to admit it, but I truly think Tyrion wants to be a father. Not because of any Lannister legacy bullshit like Tywin, he’d be thrilled if you gave him a pack of daughters. It’s more so that he really just wants to have a family of his own and to try and give his children the love he was denied in his own childhood. He’d be nervous about it at first, what if his children are too much like him? What if he loses you during the birth? Give him lots of patience and reassurance and before you know it, he’s dragging you off to put a babe in your belly ASAP.

Part of the attraction for Tyrion is watching you go through the experience of being pregnant. He loves your baby bump and your soft breasts. If the hormones have you riled, he’d be incredibly gentle while making love to you, not wanting to hurt you or the baby. He’d rub your ankles if they’re sore and have the maesters make hot compresses if your back hurts from carrying his child. You’re so beautiful to him like this, and any complaints about weight gain or stretch marks would be silenced with deep, open mouthed kisses. As long as it’s not any danger to you and you’re happy being a mother, Tyrion wants you pregnant as often as you can be. Don’t be surprised if you have a few “stepladder twins” who are less than a year apart.

It also comes back to a possession thing. Having you bear his children is the best way he can think of to show the world who you belong to. It would also be the one thing that would get Tywin off his back about “an heir and a spare” while deeply infuriating the man because there’s no way anyone would tolerate his son to conceive even one child, let alone two, but here you are all the same. Tyrion would be extra attentive to you while you’re pregnant in public, taking every opportunity he can to rest his hand on your growing belly and caress it gently. Even if people stare, he doesn’t give a shit. He’s proud of you and the baby you’re going to have, those idiots are just jealous because they know it’ll be the most beautiful child in all of Westeros and their little sprogs could never compete.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Now, even if the two of you were married while the Lannisters are in the Red Keep, Tyrion will point blank refuse to fuck you there unless his family is away, and even then maybe not. Its not that he doesn't want to or doesn'tlove you, it’s just that the walls have ears in this place. If it’s not Tywin or Cersi sticking their noses in his business, Vary' will probably have his “little birds” keeping a close watch on the two of you.

No, anywhere in Kings Landing is out of the question. You’re too important to Tyrion to risk having you used as a pawn in his family’s schemes. There’s no way he’s going to be ever able to completely let his guard down while you’re there, so first chance he’s got Tyrion is going to try and send you away somewhere safer.

Casterly Rock would be his first choice. With his father and sister busy stirring shit up in King’s Landing, they’d totally ignore the Rock despite it being their homeland, and as far as Tyrion’s concerned that makes it the perfect place. In spite of his rough childhood, he’s always felt protected there, and there would be so many things he’d want to show you. The library where he learned to read, the beach and its tide pools,the gardens and all the other secret places hed discovered as a boy. Also, having you stay in his childhood bedroom with him would be so special for Tyrion, the two of you snuggled up under familiar covers with the sound of the waves crashing in the distance. Casterly Rock was, and always will be his home and Tyrion wants nothing more than to make you a part of it for good.

If the Rock isn’t an option, I can also see him trying to negotiate the rights to some out of the way holdfast outside the city limits. It wouldn’t be ideal, but it would certainly be less suffocating than The Red Keep and at least there he could choose his own guards to watch over you. Tyrion might even push for Jamie to come and mind you for a few days a week, in spite of Cersi’s protests. He trusts his brother more than anyone else, and knows that Jamie would do right by you even with their sister whispering in his ear because he loves Tyrion so much.

Once he has either one of these options secure, Tyrion would probably want to keep your sex life limited to the bedroom. He really doesn’t want you to be the subject of gossip, even if he’s hired the household staff himself. He values your privacy, as well as his own, and also loves the ample amount of time being in the bedroom allows. I can also see him going as far as to have new locks made for your shared chambers, and you two would be the only ones with keys. He really doesn’t want to run the risk of your maids or Podrick walking in at an inopportune moment, even if they do knock it’s better safe than sorry.

However, I do think Tyrion also harbours a fantasy about taking you on his desk in the Hand’s Office someday. Whether or not this ever comes to fruition, at least he’s got something pleasant to think about during those long, redundant days.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I wouldn’t say it takes much to get Tyrion going. We all know he’s got an ample sex drive, and isn't the type to pass up a little love no matter the occasion. However for him, there's a couple of things you can do that really, really just push all the right buttons.

The first is watching you mouth off to someone. If you’re shyer or more softer spoken, don’t worry about it. Tyrion will always play your gallant knight and saviour. But if you’re the type of person who speaks their mind? Oh boy. There’s nothing Tyrion loves more than getting to bear witness to you giving some fool a well deserved tongue lashing. He’d watch the whole thing over the rim of his goblet, smirking with a particular twinkle in his eye.

When he first heard you call Joffery a “craven little pissant” he truly thought he might die from delight. Thankfully, that didn’t happen and Tyrion had enough sense to whisk you off before his nephew could react, something about “She’s not herself your majesty, women’s troubles and the like. I’m sure she has no idea what she’s saying”

Of course, instead of the scolding you thought was coming, Tyrion would pull you into the nearest alcove and kiss you until you were breathless. When he’s done he’d announce “You wonderful, mad woman. I’ve been wanting to do that since the little shit could talk, but PLEASE pick your fights more carefully or we’ll end up in matching gallows.”

After that, you’d have to see sense, at least where Joffrey is concerned. Anyone else though? Totally fair game, especially if they insult Tyrion. You’ve told off his sister more than once and even gone up against Tywin on his behalf. Naturally, the two of them would complain to Tyrion about “making his wife mind” but to that Tyrion would respond “I told her not to start fights, but she is more than welcome to finish them” most likely while he’s pulling you towards your bedchamber to finish things his own way lol The two of you are the snarkiest, sassiest couple in all of King’s Landing and mutual bitching is your favourite couple’s activity.

On the other side of the coin, being particularly soft or compassionate is the other way to get Tyrion’s attention. It doesn’t just have to be with him either. If you’re particularly gentle with Tommen and Myrcella or with any animal you come across or the small folk in the city, Tyrion is just going to melt. He can hardly believe he’s found someone who’s genuinely good hearted in this rotting shithole, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t grateful for you either. When he sees you being particularly sweet, his motivations are less “I am so turned on right now let me have you” and more “I love you so much, you are literal sunshine please let me show you how much you mean to me”

More than once, you’ve glanced up while playing with Myrcella and Tommen to find Tyrion watching you with an expression on his face you can’t quite read. If you’ve already given him a couple children, odds are tonight you’ll conceive another one. If you haven’t yet, your first is most likely coming along nine months after this.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Tyrion’s pretty adventurous but even there’s a couple things he’s going to have boundaries about.

The first of these is any kind of impact play. If this is after what happened with Ros (Alayaya in the books) and Sansa’s own beating, Tyrion couldn’t bring himself to do it even with your consent. Hurting you would bring back too many unpleasant memories, and the world already thinks the worst of him. The implication that he beats his wife on top of everything else would be too much.

With that in mind, consensual non-consent is off the table, as well as any kind of sharing. The trauma about Tysha runs too deeply for that. Tyrion also is too insecure to share you with anyone else, even if he tries to play it off. Deep down, a part of him worries you’ll leave him for a better, taller man, so why run the risk by letting one into your bed?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Now, Tyrion isn’t the type to pass up getting his cock sucked but honestly? He prefers going down on you.

If the two of you are married and you were a virgin, Tyrion isn’t going to expect you to go down on him, especially if you’re of high birth. Unfortunately, in Westeros that act is usually associated with brothel girls and Tyrion wouldn’t want to demean you. But if you’re still offering after an extended period of time? Well, who’s he to say no when you ask so nicely.

Tyrion would be really sweet with you while you’re going down on him though. The last thing he wants is to make you feel pressured or like he’s manhandling you too much. Expect a lot of praise, him stroking your hair and face and begging you to look up at him so he can see your beautiful eyes. Use that last one with caution though because it’ll have him cumming in seconds.

When it’s your turn, Tyrion’s going to show just as much enthusiasm. This man eats pussy like it’s his goddamn job, and he will take it as a personal failure if you don’t have at least three orgasms while he’s down there. The only thing he loves more than a nice glass of Arbour red is the taste of you on his lips, if they could make that in a vintage he’d literally drink himself to death.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

So for Tyrion, this really depends on his partner and what they want because he can get what he needs from both.

I’ve mentioned this a couple times, but if you’re a virgin he’s going to go like molasses slow. I’m talking like hours of foreplay, getting you used to his mouth and fingers, making you’re absolutely relaxed and stretched out comfortably before he even thinks of introducing his cock into the mix.

If this isn’t your first rodeo though and you want something hard, fast, and even a little disrespectful? Tyrion’s happy to provide, he’s a man of many talents after all.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Again, Tyrion is versatile. Does he prefer to have these long extended love making sessions that go on for hours? Of course, especially if it’s in a romantic relationship. He wants that intimacy and time with you.

However, there are going to be some weeks where everyone is up his ass, Joffrey has managed to squander what little money the crown has again, some minor lords are picking fights over the tiniest slights imaginable, and the Black Brothers are asking him to produce more men from thin air to fill their ranks. All in a day’s work for Tyrion.

When things get like this, clearly he’s going to be super busy and strung out. So if all you have time for is a quick romp before bed or before he leaves in the morning? Not his favourite but he’d rather have that than nothing at all.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Tyrion’s down for a little risk now and again. It keeps things fresh and exciting for the two of you. Just so long as it doesn’t cross any of the boundaries set in N, he’ll try anything almost once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Honestly? If you can keep up, Tyrion’s willing to go all night. His years of practice have given him an almost god like stamina, if you can outpace him he’s going to be pleasantly surprised because it hasn’t happened yet.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

So again, I don’t think toys are really a “thing” in Westeros, but someone with such a “diverse” palate as Tyrion will probably have a couple of surprises. However, this will probably be more kink type gear like blindfolds, ropes and maybe a gag somewhere. If you wanna use these things on yourself or him, he’s more than happy to oblige, but won’t be upset if you’re not interested either. He just wants you to be happy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease

Oh gods. Bring your patience and self control because this man is a MENACE.

Nowhere is safe from him either. The two of you could be in the fricking SEPT and he’d slip a note into your hymnal detailing all the filthy things he wants to do with you. Meanwhile he’s got his eye on the septon and the most placid expression, like he didn’t just commit you both to the Seven Hells via sacrilege He’s also not above getting handsy with you under the table while you’re having a meal with his family or in court. Like I said, nowhere is safe.

Revenge would be easy enough to get though. Just whisper something spicy in his ear and grab his trouser lacings right before he’s for a Small Council meeting. He’s going to be hot, bothered and ready to boil over for the next few hours and unable to focus on anything except the highlight reel his mind is playing of you. You’ll absolutely pay for it when he comes back to your rooms that night, but it’s also completely worth it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I'd say Tyrion makes about the average amount of noise for any man, you get moans and grunts, which get louder when he cums. The one thing that kind of stands out about him is he's maybe a little bit more talkative? Expect lots of dirty talk, compliments and cursing. The only way to truly shut him up is to put his mouth between your legs or on your tits lol.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I think it's probably because Kings Landing as a city reeks so goddamn bad, but I can see Tyrion having a thing about you wearing perfume? It would most likely start on your wedding night when a nice perfume is tradition along with the wedding silks, and Tyrion enjoys the scent on your skin so much he makes it a habit to keep adding to your collection. You'd probably own quite a few exotic and rare bottles after you've been together a few years, Tyrion would have most likely sought them out from merchants from the Free Cities and the Summer Isles. Wearing them can have like an almost pheromone type effect on him, especially if they're scents you've worn exclusively during sex.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

So, I'm just going to go off how Tyrion's cock is described in the books. I figure he's about average size for most men, around 5 inches, so not as small as everyone likes to speculate about. Girth wise I wouldn't say he's too big, maybe a smidge wider than most but not enough that it's going to cause you pain. The most notable thing about his cock is the head, which darkens a fair bit in colour when he's hard and is exceptionally sensitive. He's also uncut bc I can't really see that being a thing in Westeros again unless you travel out to the Free Cities or Dorne.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

How high you got? :P

Honestly, we know Tyrion is always down to clown. All you need to do is give your consent and he's raring to go. He's also a grown man, however, and has absolutely immaculate self control. Don't ever expect him to pressure or try and manipulate you into fulfilling his needs, your comfort comes first and foremost. He'll make do with his hand if needs must and won't make you feel the least bit guilty about it either.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

In the books/show, it's stated that Tyrion is pretty much an insomniac (same bro) so when you first get together it's pretty rare that he sleeps after sex. Instead, you can expect him to stay awake and cuddle you until you're asleep, and then he'll either read until dawn or shuffle off to his office to get some work done.

It's only when you start making an active effort to help him sleep that he'll be able to doze off next to you. The surefire way to get him to rest is by having his head on your chest or your lap and stroking his hair while you sing to him. It doesn't matter what, lullabies, ballads, tavern songs, he just likes the sound of your voice and the warmth of your skin against his.

He wouldn't tell you this, but Tysha would do the same thing for him back when she was around. He always managed to sleep fine for her, it was only after she left his life that his insomnia began. Maybe now that you're in his life, he can finally be well rested again.

[claymoresword]

Hii to anyone who cares/enjoy my Cersei stories just incase you're already going through withdrawals I recommend that you check out my Cersei x Fem OC fic on Ao3 😄 Although if you don't want to that's totally fine... I'll still leave a link below just incase!

[perkqularkreashions]

BEAST

I’m backkkk

PART 1

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

NOTES: Follows both Book and TV series. MATURE. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He must see her tonight.

[dionysus-drabbles]

taking reqs again! looking forward to writing for you guys again 🤞💋

[freakassfemme]

(Smut/Drabble) Is It Casual Now? CisF! Reader x Yara Greyjoy

Summary: Y/N, a member of Yara's crew and longtime fling, finds herself struggling to face the reality of the Ironborn serving a Targaryen tyrant, especially after Yara's confession.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST! It's horny but it's sad. Oral sex, f/f, lesbianism (but that's a blessing), angsty sex, sad sex, crying

A/N: YES the title is based off of Casual by Chappell Roan. Every time I listen to it I can't help but imagine something angsty with Yara.

NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT

The boat crashing against the rage of the sea only slammed your hips farther onto Yara's fingers as you struggled to keep yourself upright. Her hips worked some to hold you in place on top of the crate you sat upon, but still you tethered yourself on a rope hanging from the ceiling of the steerage.

Your moans were partially washed out by the creaking of the boat and partially by the way she smothered your lips in her own, and when she groaned back into you, your hand dropped and wrapped around her neck, deepening the kiss in a clash of teeth and tongue.

This wasn't unusual for the two of you. You'd been the only female member of her crew for quite some time, and like any of the men on board, you two preferred to find solace in the arms of a woman. It had never been anything serious, and it had always been something kept mostly private. Yara loved good company, but with a member of her crew could put her authority in jeopardy.

However, there was something unusual about the way Yara's mouth wandered to your neck. There was something entirely unusual about the way that she, rather than a simple bite on the shoulder to stifle her own noises, worked a deliberate mark right at the base of your jaw. In all three years of your little secret, Yara had never made such intentions present.

This new sensation pulled little gasps from you that floated right to Yara's spine, sending a shiver down it, so she continued placing her claim at the base of your throat, in the dip of your neck, under your ear, creating bruises that eventually washed to the other side of your throat as well.

Her fingers pumped ferociously inside of you, carelessly bruising every sweet spot like it was her last moments on this earth. When you cried out against her, she cooed into your ear so sweetly that you couldn't even form the words to tell her to stop (not that you would want to).

"Are you going to cum for me, sweetheart?" She whispered into your ear, and you shuddered, letting out a breathy laugh.

"N-no," you said, knowing it was the complete opposite of the truth. It was impossible for you to not to, especially when you knew she could feel the way you pulsed around her fingers, the way you gushed into her palm with every push, and the twitch of your thighs with every gentle curl.

"I don't think so," you murmured, letting a teasing smile slip.

Yara shook her head, chuckling and digging her fingers into a particular spot that had you almost jumping out of your seat. She watched, lips parted as your head fell back against the wall of the ship and your eyes fought not to squeeze shut.

"Your cunt is telling me a different story," she growled. She pressed her hand into your lower stomach, building another toe-curling pressure inside you as she held you in place. She kissed you sweetly after you let out a small cry, then sank to her knees.

You watched as Yara turned her focus to mouth at your clit, the vulnerability in her kneeling not slipping past you. The admiration in her eyes, the intensity of her passion - these things did not go unnoticed, and you felt your eyes begin to water. Tingles worked their way up your shoulder, and your ears rang as she pulled moan after moan from you. Your fingers dug into the crate, and you looked down at her with flushed cheeks.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but every other beat pulled a painful chord in your chest, and Yara could feel the way you began to choke up. Her hand slipped down to rub your thigh affectionately, but you instinctively grabbed it, interlacing your fingers.

Your eyes began to burn and blur as salty tears slipped down your rosy cheeks, and Yara squeezed your hand, watching the way you rested your other hand over your forehead, too mixed up between the climaxing pleasure and your longing heart to stay still.

"Yara," you whimpered out, "I'm, I'm-" But you couldn't get it out. It was all too much, the banging in your chest, the way Yara's fingers opened you up as easily as two flower petals, the way she made out with your sex like it was the love of her life, the way she had made it obvious to anyone who looked at you for the next week what had happened, and how they would know exactly who did it--

-- if you made it to the end of the week.

Tensions were high in all parts of the world, and the recent alliance between the Iron Islands and Daenerys Stormborn had completed changed the basis of the Ironborn way of life, and every member of the fleet in particular was feeling the effects of it.

Being pulled so far away from home, losing friends and family members too far from the sea to even retrieve them, and now you were following the trail of the dead with Yara to meet the queen who had started all of this, who had threatened and reconstructed an ancient way of life.

"What do you mean you don't want to go?" Yara stuttered, looking at you in disbelief. "That's not your decision to make, Y/N."

You stood on the other side of the room, running your hands through your hair. Your fight had echoed through the halls of Pyke until Yara had had enough and pulled you into a private room, but even now, passerby stopped to listen in.

It wasn't that you were a particularly disobedient soldier. You had always trusted Yara with your life, obeyed every command, even if that meant returning to her drenched in blood and void of emotion. She was your Captain, your Queen, and you had promised your life to her.

"Why are you serving her?" You exclaimed, throwing your hands up. "She's not even Ironborn, and you've known her for all but a few weeks, and now you've bent the knee?"

"Y/N," Yara stepped forward cautiously, but you waved her off, stepping back. She could feel the heat radiating off of you, feel the anger ripping at the air, threatening the foundation of this offhand non-commitment commitment you had to each other.

"No, Yara!" You exclaimed, "I won't go off to die in the middle of some fucking sea-less dessert for some woman I've never met!"

"She is the Dragon Queen!" Yara argued back, slowly letting her own temper slip from her. "She is the breaker of chains! She will bring no harm to the islands - you know I would not allow that."

You turned to her, eyes burning with rage, and met her face.

"Oh, but you have so willingly sacrificed everything the Ironborn stand for and everything we are for her!" You screamed. Yara stared fiercely down at you, though she did not respond. "And for what? What do we receive in return?"

Still, Yara said nothing. This irritated you even further, so you went further, going so far as to push Yara back. She let you, still quiet.

"You cannot kill another Ironborn, so what, you've taken to dragging us far away and drowning us all in her name?" You hissed. "What has she promised you? Or are you truly just so wound up in some foreign woman's cunt you would erase everything we have worked for?"

You went to push her again, but Yara grabbed on to your wrists. She dragged you forward, bringing you until you were so close you thought she might kiss you if it weren't for the circumstances.

For a long moment, you stared at each other, rage stirring and boiling at the very sight of each other, at the implications you had grown to believe about each other during this fight.

Then, Yara opened her mouth.

Nothing came out at first, simply a few stuttered breaths, then a glance away. And though you had quite a few times before worked Yara up to the point of chosen silence, never had you rendered Yara speechless.

Then, she looked back down at you, and swallowed thickly. Her expression had changed, twisted into a much more somber one.

"If I die out there," she whispered, "I cannot die without you."

[m9yaa]

── .✦INNOCENCE; PETYR BAELISH ⟡˖ ࣪

part 1, part 2, part 3

⟡˖ ࣪ pairing: petyr baelish x fem!stark reader

⤷cw: mature content, innocence/corruption kink?, unprotected sex, age gap, power dynamic?, aged up characters, groping (non con kinda), sexual tension, sexual innuendo

⤷summary: in which, petyr baelish seems to take an interest in you, catelyn’s and ned’s eldest daughter after the hand of the king’s arrival at king’s landing.

REQ! also not proof read!

⋮

you’ve freshly turned 18, which already means your considerably lagging behind other girls your age, which by now, would of most definitely mean marriage and pregnancy, maybe a child or two.

it’s not that you don’t want to be married or anything, it’s just that any possible suitors or men that have came and asked your father for your hand in marriage, just aren’t what you’re interested or want in a man or boy your age.

so when it came for dear sansa to be married off to joffrey baratheon, your mother and father thought it’d be a great opportunity for you to come with, as you might meet someone of equal status, who does catch your interest.

you let out groans and protests in defence as you simply had no interests in doing that at this moment, it’s too time consuming and too much effort for a man who barely knows how to wipe his own arse without his mother there to guide him. but alas, you had no choice.

the morning of the day came. you, your sisters and father were leaving winterfell for king’s landing.

you were unsure of how you’d like it there as you only recall going when you were a mere child, too young to properly remember.

“hopefully king’s landing will be good to us.” you say to the lady in waiting, serene, as she finishes the last touches on your dress and hair.

serene is a girl similar to your age, not bad looking, brown hair, brown eyes, fair complexion, nothing to special appearance wise, but she’s someone you’d consider a friend.

no matter how many times you’ve told her to stop referring to you as ‘milady’, she always comes back to it, so you’ve just begun to accept it.

“i’m sure it will my lady.” she responds before moving backwards, allowing you to have a look in the mirror.

“you look beautiful my lady.”

“thank you, serene.” you smile into the reflection as you look back at her.

you take one last glance in the mirror before grabbing some light belongings yourself and your warm, fur cloak. you clip it around your neck as you begin walking out of your cozy room and into the harsh, much colder, hallway. your lady in waiting following closely behind with the rest of your belongings.

the journey there wasn’t unbearable. it took around a week/ week and a half to get there. at first the days started out wet, harsh and terribly cold, as you’d have to make camp up in the north.

the tents only kept in so much warmth and no matter how much padding was put on the ground of the tent, the frozen solid ground and mud was protruding through the fabric and into your back, making it difficult to get sleep and uncomfortable to relax, but ‘this was only temporary’ you kept saying to yourself, ‘soon i’ll be in king’s landing’.

the only warmth you managed to get was from the fire, before it went out and the fur cloak you had on, when it wasn’t too wet to the point it got uncomfortable.

as the days passed, the further down south everyone went and luckily, the warmer it became.

you got rid of the cloak a few days back, showcasing your beautiful, smooth skin and figure in the light, sage green dress you’re wearing.

it has golden accents and embroidery stitched into the more sheer, flowy fabric of the sleeves. the bodice is intricately structured, with a corset-like fit that compliments your figure nicely.

the neckline is a little bit more low than you’d wish for it to be, but there was no time for any other fittings before you had to leave winterfell, so it’ll make due for now.

the golden embroidery decorates the neckline.

the skirt is made of layers of soft, flowing chiffon or similar fabric in a muted sage green. The fabric gathers gracefully, creating a voluminous and flowing effect.

you had some gorgeous jewellery to go with it, resting nicely on your chest, lays a golden necklace, with an incredibly rare jewel embedded in it, jadeite.

it’s a similar colour as your dress, suiting well to the rest of your outfit.

in short, you have very elegant and beautiful attire on.

the next day is when you all finally made it to king’s landing.

it was beginning to get late as you stepped through the gates on the back of your horse, the sun was beginning to set, torches and such were being lit all around the capital.

the whole family was given a warm welcome by robert and cersei, along with the everyone else in capital.

you exchanged pleasantries and formalities with the family and whoever else you needed to do so with, which included the infamous petyr baelish.

“ser baelish, it’s great to meet you.” you smile politely before proceeding with a slight bow to show your respect. as you lift your upper body back up, you notice his eyes are no longer on your face, but lingering on your chest instead.

‘it must be the necklace catching his eyes, it’s so pretty after all.’ is all you think of it, not an impure thought in mind.

“ms stark, how wonderful it is to meet you.” he grins as he unexpectedly takes your hand and lifts it up to his face, taking his time kissing your knuckles.

you feel your face heat up a little at the prolonged physical contact, as well as the eye contact.

assuming it’s just a common way to greet people, you push the strange feeling in your stomach aside as you clear your throat and pull back your hand.

he lets out a soft chuckle at your reaction, “you look more ravishing than ever.” he says with a grin.

“o-oh, thank you,” the slight heat you felt in your skin before, now felt ablaze as you receive the compliment from petyr.

he observes the way you react to his words and actions, internally praising himself for managing to make you react so flustered, noting to himself your age, meaning you’re more impressionable and inexperienced than women his age.

something he likes.

baelish opens his mouth, about to say something more but not before your father, ned, appears beside you.

they both greet each other, keeping it short.

“i see you’ve met my daughter.” ned says, “and you, petyr.” you nod in response. “great.” he responds before turning to speak to you. “i want you to return to your chambers for the night and rest for now.” your father instructs, commenting on how the last week/ week and a half of travelling has been exhausting and tiring on everyone.

“one of the servants will show you up to your chambers.”

you comply, “of course father,” you nod, “goodnight, goodnight lord baelish.” you say as you begin to retreat.

you call over your lady in waiting, serene, as she follows behind you.

“just this way, my lady.” the servant boy says as he leads you and serene out of the throne room.

he leads you to your room, your lady in waiting has retired to her own chambers so it’s just you in your room now.

shutting the door, you let out a sigh before scanning the room, taking it all in.

‘goodness, i could do with a bathe.” you think to yourself. all this travelling hasn’t exactly kept you the freshest.

you walk over to where your belongings have been placed and proceed to take out your sleepwear.

since it’s considerably warmer in king’s landing than winterfell, you opted for something a lot more lightweight and flowy.

you picked out one of your favourite pieces, a somewhat sheer yet gorgeous slip on dress.

you normally wouldn’t wear something so sheer, but the fabric is one of the most comfortable fabrics there are, perfect for sleeping in.

plus, nobody would see you anyway.

after choosing your sleepwear, you walk over to the tub, you see the servants have kindly prepared a bath, the water still looking warm and inviting.

you quickly strip out of your sage green dress that has been on for too long in your opinion, to the best of your ability, and gently enter the bathtub.

you sigh in relaxation as you soak your entire body in the enveloping warmth. you haven’t felt anything like this for almost 2 weeks, and how glad you are to feel it now.

you sit like this for a few minutes, savouring moments like these as much as you can, but not before it sadly gets cut short by an abrupt knocking on the door.

knock, knock, knock

you hear against the wooden door.

you get startled at the abrupt interruption.

as you jump out of the bathtub, you can’t seem to find anything to wipe yourself with.

it’s rude to keep whoever it is on the other side waiting, so you just go straight for the clothing you picked out that’s laying on your bed, which you’ve seemed to forgotten what it was.

you throw it on and cover your wet, nude body up as you head on over to the door.

you pull it open, at first only spotting the guards that are presumably going to be out there 24/7, before seeing…

petyr baelish..?

“my lady, i apologise f-” he stops talking abruptly, his eyes take in your appearance, travelling along your body.

“lord baelish?” you question in a confused tone, “what are yo-..” you quieten as you watch his strange mannerisms. following his eyes, you look down at yourself, connecting the missing dot.

Petyr’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, his sharp eyes lingering on the sheer fabric clinging to your form. You could feel his gaze tracing every line of your body, and heat rose to your cheeks when you realized your mistake. Hugging the robe tighter around yourself, you cleared your throat, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t going to let this moment pass so easily.

“Well,” he drawled, stepping into the room uninvited, his voice low and teasing. “This is quite the reception. I must admit, I wasn’t expecting… such generosity tonight.”

Your heart thudded in your chest as you took a step back, the sheer intensity of his presence making it impossible to look away. “It’s not… I didn’t realize,” you stammered, trying to explain yourself while his gaze flicked to your trembling hands attempting to secure the robe.

Petyr chuckled softly, closing the door behind him with an almost casual ease, though his eyes never left you. “Oh, come now,” he said smoothly, his tone as silken as the fabric clinging to your skin. “Surely you don’t think of me so naive. Accidents like this don’t happen without… intent.”

“It was an accident,” you insisted, your voice firm despite the quickening of your pulse. “And whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

He took another step closer, his presence overwhelming as the air grew thick with unspoken tension. His hand lifted, as though he might brush his fingers against your cheek—or lower—but he hesitated, studying your reaction. “Am I?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, torn between the urge to stand your ground and the temptation to let the charged silence stretch. The room felt smaller with each passing second, his closeness a magnet pulling you in despite your better judgment.

“i-i barely know you, my lord, we cannot do this, it was all a mistunderstanding!”

Petyr’s smirk softened into something almost indulgent, though the glint in his eyes remained calculating. He stepped back slightly, as if granting you space, though the tension in the room hardly eased. “A misunderstanding?” he echoed, his tone dripping with feigned innocence. “Forgive me, my dear, but it seems I may have misread the situation entirely.”

You nodded quickly, relief flooding your chest at his words. “Yes, exactly! It’s nothing but a mistake. I wasn’t thinking—I forgot what I was wearing, truly. Please don’t think I would ever…” You trailed off, your face heating under his unyielding gaze.

Petyr raised a brow, his expression unreadable. “Of course,” he said smoothly, though his voice carried an undercurrent of amusement. “I suppose such… innocence isn’t something I encounter often. Refreshing, really.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, though you couldn’t place why. There was something unsettling about the way he spoke, as though he found your embarrassment entertaining. You took a small step back, tightening the robe around yourself like a shield. “I’m serious, my lord,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

He inclined his head, the picture of politeness, though his eyes continued to study you, as if committing every flicker of emotion to memory. “Oh, I believe you,” he replied, his voice gentler now. “You’re far too honest to be lying to me, aren’t you?” He took another step back, this time with exaggerated slowness, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “But you must forgive me for being… taken aback by such an unexpected sight. A man is only human, after all.”

You blinked at him, unsure how to respond. There was an almost teasing quality to his words, but his demeanor had shifted just enough to make you question if you’d overreacted. Maybe he really had misunderstood and wasn’t trying to suggest anything untoward.

“I didn’t mean to…” you started, faltering when his smirk returned, softer this time, but still undeniably Petyr Baelish.

“Think nothing of it,” he said, his tone low and disarming. “I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. That would be the last thing I’d ever wish for.” His eyes lingered just a moment longer than they should have before he turned away, his movements deliberate and unhurried. “Shall we speak of what I originally came here for, then?”

You nodded quickly, eager to shift the focus away from your mistake. “Y-yes, of course. What is it you need, my lord?”

He glanced over his shoulder, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Oh, just a small favor,” he said lightly. “But we can discuss it another time. I wouldn’t want to distract you further tonight.”

You frowned slightly, unsure of what he meant. Before you could muster a response, he reached for the door, pausing only briefly.

“Goodnight, my dear,” he said, his tone tinged with something you couldn’t quite name. “And… do be careful about what you wear in the future. You never know who might come calling.”

The first rays of morning light crept into the room, warm and golden, nudging you awake. You blinked slowly, your mind groggy as the events of the night before resurfaced. The memory hit you like a wave—the robe, the way Petyr had looked at you, the way his voice had wrapped around you like silk.

You let out a soft gasp, clutching the sheets closer to your chest as your heart fluttered with something strange, something unfamiliar. Your body felt warm, an odd, restless heat pooling low in your stomach. You shifted under the covers, trying to ignore it, but the feeling only deepened as your mind replayed the way he’d stepped so close, his voice low and knowing, his eyes…

Your face burned. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you shake this feeling? It wasn’t like he’d done anything inappropriate—not really. But the way he’d spoken, the way he’d looked at you… it had made you feel something you didn’t understand.

You pressed your palms to your flushed cheeks, trying to calm yourself. It’s just nerves, you told yourself. That’s all it is. It was an embarrassing situation, and now you’re overthinking it.

But the warmth in your body told a different story, one you weren’t ready to face. You’d never felt this way before—not about anyone, let alone someone like Petyr Baelish. He was so… confident, so sure of himself. The way he’d smirked at you, like he knew exactly what you were feeling, made your stomach twist in a way that was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. he was nothing like boys your age.

You shook your head fiercely, trying to banish the thought. “Stop it,” you muttered under your breath, clutching the sheets tightly. “This is ridiculous. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

But a quiet voice in the back of your mind whispered otherwise. The way he’d looked at you was the way a man looked at a woman, not a girl. it was deeper, sharper, as though he saw more than you were willing to show. And worse, some part of you couldn’t forget it, couldn’t push away the strange, tingling warmth that memory brought.

You buried your face in your hands, your innocence warring with the strange, inexplicable desire curling in your chest. What was this feeling? Why couldn’t you make it go away?

No one can know about this, you thought, your cheeks blazing as you forced yourself to rise from bed. Especially not him.

Yet as you dressed for the day, the memory of his voice, his gaze, lingered like a shadow, refusing to let you go.

⋮

hellooo! this shall be a three parter as i don’t want this one to drag on forever and the second one i also dragged out by accident, the smut will be here soon don’t worry 😝

thank you for reading and if you enjoyed then don’t hesitate to like,share or reblog!

- maya🪼

[countrymusiclover]

1 - The Arrangement

Part 2

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons

When I was a child I wouldn't have believed you if you told me that one day I would find myself tangled in the claws of both a Lion and Wolf......

Monterys Velaryon, a name that every young child knew of our house before my grandparents died. He was declared the heir to Driftmark at only the age of six and got control of an entire fleet of ships and sea. The name doesn't truly live alive to this day...except for the fact that I exist as the only true born child. My father only was with one noble girl but she died giving birth to me.

But in this world women don't get any claim to a household

Walking through the castle hallways I was lost in my own thoughts about our current situation. It was declared that House Velaryon was to no longer have any high power when House Baratheon took the Iron Throne from the Targaryen.  So we had a small castle that was near the same sea that brushed up against Dragonstone that was also claimed by the Stag house too.

Footsteps came running down towards me when I stopped to peek out one of the windows. "! There you are. I went into your chambers but couldn't find you."

"You know I don't care about being stuck up in the same rooms all the time." I responded leaning my back against the wall responding to my lady in waiting who was also my best friend, Chezney Ally.

She became close to me since she had lost her mother at a later age then I did. Unfortunately I never got to know who she was. Chezney had dark brown hair pinned up into two braids while she wore a light blue dress to match our house colors. "You're not trapped here, ."

"Really. Let's think about this shall we." I tapped my chin with my index finger in thought. "I live in a castle that is only surrounded by sea and the only way I will ever be forced to never see this place again is if I wed off to some snob lord far far away."

Chezney sends me a raised brow. "Don't say that you could be wed to a young lord who is actually nice to you."

"Pfft I doubt that. But anyway, what were you wanting me for exactly?" I questioned my friend.

She clasped her hands together. "Since you're not busy with ridiculous lessons can we go swimming off the castle."

"Absolutely you know I love the thrill." I nodded in agreement where we both ran through the hallways. I wasn't wearing flat dress shoes like she was. I was wearing riding boots with a knee length sea blue tunic shirt that was big enough on me it looks like a dress.

Chezney swings opened the door that led to one of the boat docks that was just a little high above the water. She ran to the edge not caring about her clothes get wet when she hit down into the sea. "Come on, !" She cheered, pooping her head above water.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear I ran forward and hugged my knees to my chest. I hit the water and felt my hair that was in a braid slightly fall apart. "If I ever have a husband they better be fun or I'm running away." I swam up taking a breath once my head is out of water.

"And I'll come with you if they allow that." She replied, grinning at me.

Splashing some water playfully in her direction I laughed. "Of course I'll allow it and if they don't then I'll find a way to make them."

"Yeah I know you will. Uh oh they found us." Chezney splashed some water back at me looking over my shoulder and her smile dropped.

Turning around in the water I glared at the young guard my father had assigned to me for my protection since he was always busy with being Lord of the Tides. "What are you doing here, Antler!"

"You're wanted by the small council, My lady." He bowed with the wind catching his dark brown curly locks.

Shaking my head I grumbled. "What could they want with me? And tell whoever is asking that I am spending time with my friend."

"I don't think that will fair over with your father, Lady Haelesa ." Antler gulped in a slight nervous tone. "For he is the one asking for your presence at the time."

"I better go. Can't keep daddy waiting I suppose." I swam away and Chezney followed after me. We didn't bother changing into dry clothes since he clearly wanted to see me right this second.  Tying my boot laces back properly I sighed following Antler through the dark hallways. The castle was usually cold during nighttime but during the day the ocean wind wasn't unbearable. I honestly enjoyed the taste of sea more than most did and that's saying something since we're all raised to be able to handle sea life. The three of us finally halted outside a set of large double doors where Antler knocked three times signaling we were there.

The doors opened and I stepped inside seeing my father's lord advisors and him sitting around a circle table. The doors were shut behind me where I felt slightly nervous since Antler and Chezney were left outside in the hall. "Leave me alone to speak with my daughter now." My father Monterys declared getting to his feet.

"What did you want to talk to me about, father?" I questioned softly under my breath.

His eyes locked on mine. "It has come to my attention that our house is almost gone. Our heirs are either dying out or are Bastards by my only living son. That needs to change before we're gone forever."

"Change how?" I nervously asked him.

My father rounded the table and came to stand in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders before he spoke out. "It is past time you were wed, ."

"What...no." Immediately came from my mouth.

He lowers his gaze. "This isn't up for discussion, dear. It must happen to save our house and name."

"That's not right, father.  Something shouldn't just be done because it's been done for a thousand years and no one else has had the balls to change the tradition!" I snapped at my father in disbelief.

He drops his hands from my shoulders. "Watch your tone. You are my daughter and you will serve your house like your mother did before she died."

"If the only way I will ever see the rest of the world is through a ridiculous marriage then I have one condition. Chezney comes with me to whatever house you're sending me to for the rest of my life." I suggested to him with my hands on my hips.

The lord of the tides paused in thought watching me closely then finally replying. "Fine. I'll inform Lord Tywin of the response.....just remember where you come from my dear girl."

"The Old, the True, the Brave." I mumbled back to him when he started to walk away from me until I realized what he had said to me. "Wait a second you said Tywin Lannister?"

My father looked over his shoulder. "Yes I did. Tywin of House Lannister. You are to wed his eldest son Jaime. You will be sailed to Kings Landing and from there the wedding should take place within a fortnight."

"But isn't Jaime a member of the Kingsguard? He took the oath. He can't marry or bear children with anyone. He would be exactly like my brother." Listing off my fingers, this wasn't making sense anymore.

Lord Monterys moved back and sat down in his lord chair. He ran a hand over his chin in silence. I knew that he had a lot of weight on his shoulders and I was probably making it worse. Yet I had all the time in the world to read up on all the houses and history that we had gotten from Dragonstone. "Tywin has assured me that he was removed of his white cloak by King Robert Baratheon. The man who now seats the Iron Throne. So you shouldn't be worried about such matters. Now go back and start packing your leaving in a few days."

"Okay...I still love you father." Pausing in my step just beside the double doors I eyed my father in his chair figuring this would be the last time I saw him.

He sends me a grin. "I love you too, ."

The day for me to leave my family home had finally come to pass. The whole castle staff had been gathering supplies and getting the ship prepared that would go to King's Landing. Gazing out the window I just sat on the windowsill listening to the sea hit against the castle as best as I could. There was no guarantee that we would immediately go to Casterly Rock so this comforting sound needs to be my last memory of home. ", can I come in?" Chezney's voice broke me from the silence.

"It's open, Chez." I answered her, seeing her peak her head inside.

She shut the door with her foot behind her. "Antler sent me to inform you that everything is ready. We just need to get you dressed to go."

"I'm not wearing a tight dress on that boat. It doesn't matter if I'm marrying the wealthiest family in the seven kingdoms, I will be comfortable for as long as I can." I responded to my friend watching her go over to my chest of clothes and shoes searching around for what we could pick.

Sliding down from the seel my bare feet hit the wooden floor until I snagged my boots on. Tying the laces I stood upright. "Okay so let's do one of your brother's old tunics that he grew out of." Chezney draws out some dark blue trousers with a sea blue tunic.

"Can you do the braid your mother taught you?" I asked her to sit down at the window once I had changed my clothes for the trip.

She nodded beginning on the braid. "I heard some of the kitchen staff gossiping about the man you're to marry. They said that Jaime is supposed to be so handsome and the best swordsman in the kingdoms."

"Looks and sword skill aren't all that should define a person. From what I read about the Lannister's they throw gold at all their problems. It's the decisions that someone makes that matters." I rolled my eyes when she finished the braid, letting my silver-blonde hair over my right shoulder.

Chezney shakes her head. "Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll find your right person before your wedding." We clasped hands and left the castle with my father accompanying us on the journey. I don't really remember much of the trip. It was just a lot of sea and not many nights of proper sleep before we were woke to see a much warmer climate and a large populated city unlike what I was used to.

One of the Baratheon guards helped me out of the boat when we ported it to land. My gaze shifted around recognizing the certain king and his queen that was Jaime's twin sister Cersei. "Lady Velaryon, here I thought that your house was gone for good. And all the material with your name had been forged into weapons." Someone remarked in my direction where my gaze shifted across the crowd of people.

I finally stopped searching when I met a second pair of green eyes and blonde hair that fell almost down to his shoulders. And a sword attached to his hip. "Jaime Lannister, I presume."

"The one and only, my lady." He smirked at me smugly.

Putting one hand on my hip I flipped my hair out of my face, getting the sense that I was right about what I read about this family. "Well, be careful, Lannister. My house may not be as known as yours. But I may surprise you and everyone here." Jaime smirked still down at me before I took a bow in front of him and Chezney just quietly smiled at our interaction knowing this was not going to be an easy arrangement.

Comments really appreciated ❤️