#Got imagines

[targaryenimagines]

My Khaleesi

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,586

Summary:

Warnings: Smut and G!P Daenerys.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only one way to find out…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your Grace?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “More than anything, Khaleesi.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You moan. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My Khaleesi.”

[luvinescent]

Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

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

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

Dorea named her Y/N.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can become a Stark”.

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you love him?”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[tessimagines]

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

GoT Preference: Comforting them & their Reaction

Jon Snow

We all know Jon is broody

Therefore, he can have a bit of trouble accepting comfort

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

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

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

He will eventually begin to talk and accept more physical comfort

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

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

He appreciates your comfort more than he lets on

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

Robb Stark

Robb knows he can immediately come to you for comfort

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddard Stark

Ned likes to bottle up his emotions

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

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

This is when you know

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

He doesn't need words

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

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

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

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

Jaime Lannister

Jaime is another one who bottles up his emotions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion knows he can rely on you

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

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

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

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

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

He loves physical comfort

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

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

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

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

Tormund Giantsbane

Tormund is very open with his feelings

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

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

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

He seeks out your comfort more than most men would

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

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

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

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

Sandor Clegane

This man is the king 👑 of repressed emotion

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

If you offer comfort, he is simply not accepting

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

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

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

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

Jorah Mormont

Jorah is a man who thrives off words of affirmation

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

He can totally feel himself calm at your reassurances

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

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

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

Sometimes, you have to stop him from continuously thanking you

Oberyn Martell

Oberyn Martell is an emotive man

It is very easy to tell when he is upset

He is honest and real about his emotions, always

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

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

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

This will always lead to talk of Elia

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

He slowly moves closer

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

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

Gendry Waters

Gendry can get grumpy when he is upset

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Podrick Payne

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Masterlist | Game of Thrones Masterlist

[insomniakisses]

Her Little Stark

Character: Cersei Lannister (GOT)

Requested?: Yes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[imaginesinthewind]

Blood of my blood

Pairing: Jon Snow x f!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're worried," Jon noticed.

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

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

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

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

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

The hint of a smile danced across his features.

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

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

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

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

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

"I can do better than that, love."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, Jon..."

You closed your eyes and held him tight.

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

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

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

[thebadboyfanclub]

The Lover Of The Seven Kingdoms (Tywin x Reader)

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

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

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

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

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

“My lord”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No”

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

“(Y/n)-“

“Go on, confess”

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

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

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

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

“My lion”

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

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

“I have exciting news”

“Which is?”

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

“We will do no such thing”

“Tywin, think about it if we-“

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

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

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

“I thought you had noticed”

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

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

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

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

“Not to the rest of the realm”

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

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

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

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

“I was thinking of going back to Dorne”

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

“Push, my lady”

“I can’t, (y/n) please make it stop”

“Maester, what is taking so long?”

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

“It hurts (y/n)”

“I know, my lady, just one more push”

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

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

“You will do no such thing”

“This matter does not concern you, princess”

“It does, you may be excused maester”

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

“Does cruelty excite you?”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Get out”

“Young lady I advise you-“

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

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

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

Silence only looks that could kill were exchanged

“Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes Father”

“My love?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Put everything back in its place, now”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Requests are open!

[chloe-skywalker]

Better Man - Jaime Lannister

Jaime x fem!reader ! Stark

Warnings: GOT

Word count: 1, 037

Summary: Before the battle against the white walkers Jaime has a long time coming conversation with Y/n.

Authors Note: I honestly wrote this as I was watching the show and this was the first Game of Thrones imagine I wrote (its not the first to be posted). I honestly don’t know where I planned this to take place so I put it towards the end of the series. 

P.s - I didn’t watch the show as it was premiering live but I watched it for the first time in October 2022 and I finished it in 2 weeks. I loved it, great show. I was sad that each season only had 10 episodes or less.

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

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

“You're quite the knife thrower, Lady Stark.” Jaime stated as he strutted over to her. They weren’t that far outside the walls of Winterfell, but they were alone.

“And I hear you're quite the swordsman, Ser Jaime.” Y/n replied picking up another knife, he had startled her when he spoke. It had been dead silent before he spoke, but she didn’t show that he had startled her.

Jaime nodded with a cocky smirk. “My reputation precedes me.”

“I would hope not all of it.” Y/n said looking at him, noticing his expression fall at her words. “Well, people don’t have the nicest things to say about you, your personality or your family.”

Jaime squinted his eyes before nodding, but he decided to lighten the mood with his answer. “Personality? I presumed I didn’t have one.”

He to had heard the rumors that she spoke of so he knew what she meant with her words.

Y/n laughed at his response, at least he could joke about it. Then again he was use to insults by now, wasn’t he?

“As for my family, I’m not my father or siblings.” He spoke again, approaching her step by step. Once he was right in front of her he leaned in and spoke seductively. “How about you make up your own mind about me?”

The two of them always seemed to flirt in each other's company, but it could never go far and they never had the time to really get to know each other either.

“I’d love to, but we never seem to have the time now do we?” Y/n decided to tease him, even though it did hold truth. When had they ever had the time? For yours it was one thing after another.

“I would make the time-” Jaime went to answer but she cut him off before he could finish.

“I don’t think your sister would appreciate that.” Y/n gave him a sad smug expression.

“Cersei doesn’t control me.” He growled lowly.

“But doesn’t she?” Y/n raised her eyebrows at his reply. She knows what she’s seen with her own eyes, he can’t argue that.

Jaime shook his head and pointed out. “Not since the war of the five kings.”

Y/n tilted her head recounting the time a few years ago he recalled. Was this really suppose to help his case? “You mean since my brother took you prisoner and my mother broke you free?”

As much as Jaime could agree hearing her tone that it wasn’t the best thing he could’ve brought up. But it did play to his point so he stated. “I spent over a year away from her and the rest of my family. That’s quite a lot of time to contemplate.”

Y/n would admit that he was away from his family who she believed was the reason for his bad traits and actions were beneficial for the man in front of her. She could see the changes in him by just looking at him. Because she truly looked at him. She looked past his exterior and looked at the man inside.

“I can see it in your eyes.” Y/n nodded in agreement with his statement. Which shocked and puzzled Jaime. “You are a changed man. You're not the man I first met in Winterfell. You're better. You are a better man now.”

Jaime looked down, having a hard time believing her words. No one ever believed in him as much as the woman in front of him and she barely knew him. “I don’t know about that.”

Y/n could see how much he doubted himself, and that saddened her. But it didn’t shock her, the Lannisters did not seem to be an encouraging family.

“But I do.” Y/n stated, the tone she used compelled Jaime to look into her eyes. She stated her belief in him so strongly and without a doubt, it made his heart clench. But in a good, emotional way. “I do. But even with that said as long as Cersei has a hold over you, there will never be a chance for us.”

If she was honest Y/n wanted him to chase them. Give them the chance to be together that they both so obviously wanted. But he had to make the decision himself, she couldn’t for him.

Y/n gave him a sad smile before moving around him to walk back to Winterfell, having stelfed the knives back on her belt the only thing she was leaving behind was a charming Lannister that didn’t seem to know what he wanted in life.

“Say the words.” Jaime spoke before she could get to far, turning on his feet and facing her.

“What?” Y/n stopped and turned towards him confused at his random choice of words.

Jaime took her confusion as his opening, he walked over to her, his face all serious. Shocking Y/n with the words that came out of his mouth. “Say the words and I’ll stay. Say the words and I’m yours. Only yours, forever.”

“And what words would that be exactly?” Y/n questioned nervously, she wanted to believe he was serious. But that depended on what words he meant.

Jaime wrapped his handless arm around her waist and leaned his forehead against hers.Gently running his other hand, the only hand he had left that was flesh and bone across her cheek. “You know the words.” He whispered, hoping she knew. If she felt the same as him she’ll know he thought.

Y/n felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Looking up into his pleading eyes she said the words that they have wanted to say for years to each other. “I love you.”

Jaime smiled, relieved that she did truly feel the same. Jaime pulled her into a sweet passionate kiss that should’ve happened years ago. There was nowhere he’d rather be. As their kiss continued Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the kiss just as much as him. Pulling back so they could both get air, Jaime smiled genuinely happy for the first time in years. “I love you too.”

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

[theship-thewalrus]

masterlist

request guidelines || fandoms & characters

*smut

game of thrones

brienne of tarth jealously not a joke no one hurts you rest together again

tywin lannister love can bloom sweet little dragon may i have this dance? it was my mothers everyone needs some comfort nightmares

sandor clegane waking up to you flowers you are the one i want

oberyn martell enough of this

house of the dragon

ser harwin strong the third time's the charm || part one || part two || part three waking up to you our final moments together looking after a sick harwin rainy days no longer yours a life together general dating headcanons (w/ rhaenyra) good boy * a gift

princess rhaenyra targaryen looking after a sick harwin general dating headcanons (w/ harwin)

prince aemond targaryen anything for you || i'll figure it out waking up to you engagement headcanons (w/aegon (separate)) protective siblings (w/aegon) hiding jealousy

king aegon ii targaryen Disappointment || series masterlist engagement headcanons (w/aemond (separate)) jealously protective siblings (w/aemond)

jacaeys valaryon our secret

queen alicent hightower dragons new sensations *

lord of the rings

legolas injuries clingy stranger

aragorn injuries

boromir stay with me deserve you return to you

the sandman

lucifer here with me i would never hurt you lonely

bridgerton

Benedict this is my idea

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Hello, can you write a story where Jaime seeks the reader for comfort and reassurance after losing his hand? Even after some time he still feels insecure about it? When getting intimate for example?

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Pairing: Jaime Lannister x Fem!Reader

Warnings: DNI unless 18+, It gets kinda dark before it gets good cause I got carried away (again). Mentions of SA, incest, manipulation, violence, heated makeout sessions, mentions of both male and female anatomy, selling women like livestock, female masturbation, oral, male recieving, fingering, p in v (wrap it before you tap it) etc.

Word Count: 5,588

Summary: Jaime and Y/n can’t keep their relationship a secret for long, and Jaime struggles with his new hand.

Taglist: @gruffle1 (I know you said you wanted to be tagged in all my works and I think a few have slipped through the cracks. I hope this is still okay though)

Author’s Note: I am so, so sorry for this long awaited request! It’s been at least two years and I know I needed my oldest request taken care of. So thank you for your patience, Nonny! I hope it’s worth the wait.

I made the reader Jon Arryn’s young, distant cousin, so that there’s reason for her to be a member of the King’s court and Queen Cersei’s lady-in-waiting. Also another sorry in advance if the story jumps around a bit.

(I do not consent to my works being reposted/copied)

~~~

Several, long months have come and gone since Jaime had attacked Ned Stark in the streets of King's Landing. He had run off to avoid capture and to rally with his father to save Tyrion, who was then in the clutches of Ned Stark's wife. He didn't have time to properly pack or say goodbye to his family. No one even knew where he had gone until Ned Stark was brought back to the Red Keep that same evening, his leg severely injured. When the Hand of the King spoke of Jaime's attack, Queen Cersei was quick to spin a tale about how Ned was the first to attack after stumbling out of one of Lord Baelish's brothels drunk. It didn't deter King Robert enough to send Ned away, but it did earn Cersei a bruise on her face.

Lady Y/n Arryn tended to the Queen's bruise that night, quietly listening to Cersei's drunk, angry rants about Jaime being accused of treason and running away. Dutifully, the young lady-in-waiting helped Cersei get ready for bed before slipping away the moment she was dismissed. Y/n retreated to her own quarters that night, sobbing silently to herself, worried sick for her secret lover. Every night, she prayed to the gods to forgive Jaime of his sins and bid him a safe return, but not long after Jaime left, King Robert died and Joffrey took the throne. His first decree was to arrest Ned Stark and hold his daughter Sansa captive for treason. Things began to quickly spiral. Not long after Lord Stark's arrest, word got back to King's Landing about Jaime's capture. In retaliation for his father being arrested, Robb Stark had gathered their banners and rose the entire North up against the crown, winning battle after battle against the Lannisters, including the battle that transpired before Jaime was taken prisoner.

Months had gone by and there was still no progress in rescuing Jaime. This agitated Tywin Lannister almost as much as it did Lady Y/n, but at least he could openly show his disdain if he so pleased. Y/n, on the other hand, had to suffer in silence, soothing her queen every night Jaime wasn't by her side. The envy festered deep in Y/n's gut whenever Cersei whispered her twin brother's name in her sleep. Lady Arryn could only wish she could blame it on the wine, but she was no fool. Jaime had once gone to her in confidence about his relationship with Cersei. How their mother once found them in bed together when they were very young and immediately put a stop to it. Cersei's feelings for him remerged when she married King Robert and was left unsatisfied in their marriage bed, but Jaime never returned those feelings.

At first, he said that what happened with his sister when they were children was a young and stupid mistake and he never loved her that way. Even later on in his life, he wasn't attracted to his sister and didn't want to soil his white cloak of honor for someone who clearly took advantage of him as a child. But then, slowly, Jaime admitted that if he was ever going to break his oath, he would only do so for Lady Y/n. She had caught his eye when the late Jon Arryn, once Hand of the King, assigned his cousin to be Queen Cersei's lady-in-waiting. Jaime, of course, never said such things out loud, but he knew from the start that Y/n was beautiful and that observation slowly turned into a need to be around her. It wasn't hard to put himself in her company since their duties to the King and Queen brought them together more often than not.

When Jaime finally spilled all of these sins to her late one night, Y/n had asked if he was truly willing to break his vows for her, even if it meant only ever meeting in secret. She was, after all, unmarried and still a maiden, her family hoping that one day she'll catch the eye of one of the high lords in the King's court. If word got out that an unmarried lady and a duly sworn Kingsguard were seeing each other in secret, it would be devastating for both of them. When Jaime quickly said he was willing to take the risk, Y/n followed that up with another question. Was he willing to risk her life if their secret meetings ever led to a child? She was no maester. She couldn't get her hands on any moon tea without being detected even if she tried. Was Jaime willing to let Y/n risk her life if anyone found out? If the Queen found out?

Jaime admittedly shuddered at that idea, knowing what Cersei was capable of. With that in mind, he vowed to Y/n that none of their secret meetings will lead to a child because he vowed to only ever love her from afar if it meant protecting her. Y/n's heart wept at the idea of being apart from him, knowing how he felt but being unable to act on it. That very first night, she kissed him with a promise on her lips. She promised Jaime to meet him in secret, but only so that he could hold her. Nothing more.

~~~

Years of their secret courting had gone by without a hitch. They met mostly at night when both the King and Queen were asleep in their respective rooms. At first, they only talked quietly in the dark until the early morning light, but then it led to unspoken kisses. The kisses soon led to touching, and over the years those touches began to grow bolder. As promised, Jaime never took Y/n's maidenhead, but that didn't stop them from other nocturnal activities. Oftentimes, he would sneak out of her room with the phantom touch of her mouth around his cock or his clean fingers would still feel warm from being inside of her.

It was blissful, and Jaime always found himself imprinting his love for her in every kiss and every touch. It was always said in secret, but it was always said with sincerity. Despite having to sneak around, it was the best years of the young lovers' lives. That is, until the day Jaime learned of Tyrion's capture and attacked Ned Stark, quickly leaving the city to join his father at Casterly Rock. That day was the last day Y/n ever saw her lover before everything went downhill. The days turned into weeks, then months, before slowly creeping up on a year. At that time, Y/n learned of a horrifying rumor. When Robert died and Joffrey was crowned King, both of Robert's brothers, Stannis and Renly, rallied to war for the Iron Throne, claiming that Joffrey was not their brother's trueborn son. Stannis claimed that Joffrey was the bastard son of incest, between Cersei and Jaime Lannister.

When Y/n heard of this, her blood ran cold and her stomach turned, threatening to release its contents. She didn't want to believe these rumors, but whenever she looked at Cersei's children, she could now see plenty of Jaime in them. Denial turned into anger, the young woman wondering if everything Jaime told her had been a lie. She wondered just how long he had been lying to her, and if he ever stopped loving Cersei to begin with.

Again, she could only react to this in her own time but kept herself stoic and dutiful whenever she was in the presence of the Queen. Despite how cruel Cersei was to her, Y/n wouldn't ever give up her knowledge of this rumor or her relationship with Jaime just out of spite. Cersei was still Queen Regent. She could do whatever she wanted to Y/n, even for no reason at all. So Y/n kept her mouth shut and continued to take the Queen's usual cruelty. With House Stark and now House Baratheon rallying against her son, Cersei was starting to grow stressed, which drove her to be crueler to her servants. But even then, Y/n didn't speak a word.

~~~

Many things happen to distract Y/n from her dark thoughts. Joffrey had Ned Stark executed under charges of treason, Tyrion was named Acting Hand of the King upon his return, Renly Baratheon was mysteriously murdered, and Stannis Baratheon tried laying a siege on the Red Keep from the Blackwater Bay. Before the night was over, Tywin Lannister and his remaining army came to the rescue, and was named Hand of the King for his heroism.

Before the year was up, Jaime had returned to King's Landing.

Y/n was walking up to the Queen's chambers, holding her skirts and carefully watching her feet so she wouldn't trip on the stairs. She nearly reached her destination when she finally looked up and noticed a poor, filthy, crippled old man standing in front of her. She opened her mouth to scream before his hand clamped over her mouth and shushed her. Taking a moment, Y/n recognized those eyes, her own widening in disbelief. His hair was long, matted, and discolored. His skin and clothes were stained in filth, not an inch of him were spared. His beard mostly covered his face and worst of all, he only had one hand, the arm missing said limb was held close to his chest.

Several moments had passed before Jaime carefully removed his hand from her mouth, trying to contain the relief from his eyes but to no avail. The astonishment and delight in Y/n's eyes, however, quickly turned dark and stoic. Jaime's hurt and confusion were evident when she stepped away from him with a cold look staring back at him, "Ser Jaime."

A beat skips by before a tight smile reached Jaime's lips, hiding under his beard, "My lady."

Y/n brushed passed him with just as cold of a shoulder, her eyes lowered in disgust, "The Queen would be thrilled to know that you are safe."

Jaime was too shocked to follow her, at first, before his legs finally moved and silently trailed after the lady-in-waiting to Cersei's chambers. After Y/n had closed the doors behind him, Jaime wouldn't see her again for several days.

She had claimed to be ill in this time, dismissing herself from serving the Queen until she felt better... or until she could come up with a plan to leave King's Landing. Ever since she learned of Joffrey's true parentage, Y/n has been trying to get a hold of her late cousin's wife in the Vale, but Lysa Arryn didn't appear rushed to respond to her. Y/n was hoping she could be dismissed from her duties and travel back home to the Eyrie, never wanting to speak of Jaime's affair with her or his betrayal ever again. With all of her letters being left unanswered, Y/n felt hopeless. She couldn't bear to stay in King's Landing anymore now that Jaime was back, but where was she to go if she couldn't return home?

One night, Y/n was getting ready for bed, dressed in her nightgown and undoing the braids in her hair so that it could be brushed. Her mind was far away until she heard the familiar sound of the secret entrance attached to her chambers being opened. Startled, she quickly turns away from her mirror and watched as Jaime climbed out of the hidden passage as if no time had passed between them. Freshly cleaned and shaven, Jaime looked as though he never left the Red Keep, apart from the cut hair and golden hand he now sported on his right arm. Instead of his armor, Jaime wore a white undershirt and pants, as if ready for bed. When he looked around, his eyes found Y/n's, and the two of them kept that gaze locked in silence, daring the other to move first.

After some time, Jaime sighed in surrender, looking away to close the secret door behind him. He had half expected the entrance to be sealed since it appeared as though Y/n was avoiding him, but he knew he needed to try and see her. He needed to know if she was avoiding him because of his new appearance, or if... she simply no longer loved him.

Turning back to her, Jaime was shocked to find Y/n standing up to greet him, only, she decided to skip the formalities and get right to the source of her anger, "Is it true? Is Joffrey yours? Are all three of them yours?"

The bombarding questions stunned Jaime, like lightning hitting him head-on. He couldn't move a muscle, horrified eyes scanning hers until the guilt and shame took over. Jaime swallowed down the bile coming up his throat before whispering, "... Yes."

Y/n was quick to react as she stumbled back to lean against her vanity for support, the mirror behind her catching the guilt of Jaime's reflection, watching her every movement, "You lied to me."

He found himself moving again, a hand out to her as he stepped forward, but she flinched. Jaime immediately froze in his steps, hurt shadowing his face as he slowly lowered his hand, his voice cracking under the weight of his sins and sorrows, "I'm so sorry. Cersei found out about us -years ago- and I begged her to spare you in exchange for... in exchange for me..."

Y/n didn't dare buy that until she knew everything. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, "How? How could she have known? We were so careful at the beginning, not even Lord Varys could've known."

Jaime blinked as he tried to find words to calm her worries, but in truth, he didn't even think to try and find out how Cersei figured him out, even after all these years, "I'm not sure. Maybe she just... knew. I am her twin after all."

Watching as Y/n turned her back to him, watching her reflection crumble in the mirror, Jaime felt his heart clench in agony as she demanded more answers, "How many times?"

"Just those three times the children were conceived. Cersei always planned it around the times Robert would come to her marriage bed. That's all, I swear."

The last few words struck a nerve, Jaime could tell by watching her shoulders tighten, as well as her voice, "You lied to me... for years. You let this continue... for years, without ever telling me the truth, even when you had plenty of opportunities to do so! And yet you can stand there and suddenly swear to me as if I can still trust your word? After everything has been a lie?"

Jaime's legs moved before his mind could, closing the distance and grabbing her shoulder with his one good hand. Y/n let out a small gasp of surprise but didn't dare scream in fear of someone bursting into her chambers. Her eyes wildly watched Jaime with worry, fearfully waiting for him to do something, but Jaime just stood before her, frantically searching for something in her eyes. Whatever he was looking for, he found it, and spoke ever so gently, his breath ghosting her lips in their confined space, "Everything I have done... every sin, every vow... every time Cersei took me into her bed, I did it all to protect you."

"And what would you have me do?" The smile she bore was thin and unhinged. Neither genuine nor kind as she glared up at him, "Thank you? Forgive you?"

"No. No, I know I can never ask that of you. I just thought... you deserved to know why I did it. Cersei would have killed you if I refused her."

"So you just never bothered telling me?"

Jaime raised his other hand to grab her other shoulder, only to let a deep ache in his limb remind him that he didn't have a right hand anymore. Jaime stared down at the offending golden hand, a thought festering in the back of his mind. For the first time since he had returned home, he realized that he would no longer get to hold Y/n with both hands, to run all of his fingers all throughout her skin and through her hair as he kissed her breathlessly. Y/n followed his gaze to also stare at his fake hand but made no move to acknowledge it as he finally found his words, "I was scared of losing you. It was selfish of me. I know that now. You had every right to know, this entire time. You had the right to choose whether or not you'd like to stay with me after what I did. I knew, deep down, either way, I'd lose you. So I kept quiet. I'm sorry."

"I suppose I can't blame you," she spoke bitterly, staring back up at Jaime through her eyelashes, "Why have one woman when you can have two?"

The accusation stung, and Jaime knew he deserved it. All the same, he was still a selfish man and he could not let his lover think this way a second longer. His hand rose to her face, caressing the skin of her jaw as he whispered, "I don't love her, Y/n. I never have. Every time she summoned me to her chambers... I obeyed because I was willing to do anything if it meant protecting you."

Y/n relents for a while before finally letting down her disgust and anger, leaning against the touch of his hand that she hasn't felt in a year. Her eyes were sad, distant as they bore a hole into his shirt, "Do you intend on seeing her again?"

Jaime's head lowers in shame, softly speaking under his breath, "I don't want you to die, Y/n."

Y/n rolls her lips, looking away as she rapidly blinks to hold back tears. She found it difficult to smile, despite trying, "Then perhaps it is better for everyone if I leave. Cersei can't hurt me if I wasn't here, and she will never be able to torment you again."

"I... I don't want that either."

"Then what do you want, Ser Jaime?"

He said it with confidence as if it was the easiest thing in the world to say, "I want to marry you."

She smiled, entertaining his dream before crushing it, "You can't, my love... you made a vow as a Kingsguard."

"I already broke those vows."

Y/n's hands reach up to rest against his chest, her fingers tapping lightly against his heart, "Technically your vows state that you cannot hold any lands or wife or father any sons. You didn't break any of those vows when you were with me."

"... But I broke those vows when I killed a King and fathered a Queen's children."

Her eyes meet up with his, "Then I suppose you're no longer a Kingsguard in the eyes of the gods."

"No... I suppose not," an idea struck him in full force, the whole revelation dawning as clear as day on his face. Y/n watched the whole thing unfold with curiosity as he spoke, smiling like an excited child, "There's another way... If you'll have me."

~~~

The very next morning, Jaime stood in front of the Hand of the King, his father, with a proposition and the confidence of a lion, "In the eyes of the gods, I was no longer a Kingsguard the moment I struck down the Mad King. And now that I can't fight with my sword hand, I am no longer of any use as a knight. My place isn't in King's Landing anymore... my place is in Casterly Rock."

Despite the stoic expression on his face, Tywin could not help the slight incline of his head, giving away his contained interest. Jaime smiled on the inside, knowing he had his father trapped with his bait, "Have Joffrey dismiss me and I will be your son and heir... under one condition."

"Name it."

"Arrange a marriage for me. Wed Lady Y/n to me."

A few moments pass before Tywin leans back in his seat and straightens his posture, overshadowing his son even when one sat and the other stood, "Why her?"

"House Arryn has been strangers to our house as of late. Jon Arryn is gone, Lysa Arryn is unwell, and her sickly son is heir to the Eyrie. Any strong relationship we could possibly have with them now lies with Y/n," those were the words his lover had him recite nearly all night long. Despite how much she loved him, even Y/n knew that he wasn't the smartest Lannister. Years from now, Jaime would recite this tale to his brother, and Tyrion will laugh with pride. Y/n may be a quiet individual, but she always had a way with words that always magnetized Jaime to her. With her advice, Jaime found the right words to reel his father into his proposal. But now, he spoke with his heart, "I've known her for years. She's been a friend of our family ever since she became Cersei's lady-in-waiting. She shares our desire to strengthen the family name and she's learned about Casterly Rock from listening to Cersei."

Approval is one of the very few emotions Tywin cared to possess, but he only bore it through his eyes. However, despite his inner excitement, he was no fool either, "And why should I agree to this proposition?"

"Because if you don't... I will tell everyone the truth."

"The truth?"

It was Jaime's turn to tilt his head as if fascinated by this questioning, "You don't know, do you? You never believed it. How is that possible?" Watching his father keep a hard gaze, unflinching, Jaime's eyes visibly show the realization, "What am I saying, of course, it's possible! How can someone so consumed by the idea of his family have any conception of what his actual family was doing? We were right there in front of you and you didn't see us. One look in the past twenty years, one real look at your own children and you would've known."

"Known what?" Tywin mutters, although keeps his expression neutral.

Jaime couldn't help the smirk on his face as he splashed his father with the cold, hard truth, "Everything they say is true about Cersei and me. Your legacy is a lie... until the day Y/n and I have children, of course."

Tywin's fists tighten around the arms of his chair but otherwise say nothing. Beaming with confidence, Jaime finally sat down across from him, as equals, "Our first son will be named after your father. And our first daughter..." Jaime conjures a sobering expression, carefully watching his father's eyes, "Will be named after Mother."

Another tilt of the old lion's head told Jaime he had him intrigued. Mentioning his mother always worked with his father, after all. Tywin let out a long breath through his nose but doesn't visibly admit his defeat otherwise. He grits out the terms and conditions through his teeth, "Just so we are clear... you will revoke your rights and vows as a Kingsguard. You will take back my name and bear my father's house colors. You will take Lady Y/n Arryn as your wife and father for each and every one of her children, squandering any disgusting rumors that have spread about you and your sister."

Jaime entertains his father with a rise of his eyebrows, "Of course."

"You will become Lord of Casterly Rock after my passing and your firstborn son will be named your heir, as will your second son should anything happen to the first, and so on and so forth. Any daughters you have will be given to properly matched suitors so that the Lannister legacy also lives on through other houses."

Jaime's good hand tightens, inwardly disgusted by his father already trying to sell off any granddaughter he might have when they don't even exist. He speaks with a tight voice in response, "Y/n and I will find suitable men for our daughters. Men who will care for them as needed and love whatever children our daughters give them."

"Your first son will be named Tytos II and your first daughter will be named Joanna II."

"Yes, yes," Jaime agrees while standing up, but makes sure to look Tywin in the eye with a small smile and the last laugh, "And our second son will be named Tyrion II."

~~~

Tywin kept his word -begrudgingly- and convinced Joffrey to release Jaime from his vows the very next day. Everyone at court was there as Joffrey stood in front of his throne and decided to throw in a few mocking comments about Jaime's incompetent hand while he was at it, but Jaime took the insults in stride and bowed for good measure. It may have bothered him to hear the quiet laughter all around him, but at the moment, he didn't care. He got what he wanted out of the laughing stock. Once Joffrey dismissed him, Tywin named Jaime his heir and then announced the union between Lord Jaime Lannister and Lady Y/n Arryn. Small surprised gasps filled the throne room, but otherwise, it was a moment of celebration. Y/n had crossed the room to stand beside Jaime when she was announced and even bowed before the King and his Hand in gratitude.

To say Cersei was enraged was an understatement. She tried breaking into her former lady-in-waiting's chambers, only to find a couple of guards posted in front of Y/n's room. Cersei then tried to summon Jaime to her, only to find Tywin at her door moments later. Her father forbade her from interacting with her brother and his betrothed until they left for Casterly Rock and then proceeded to demand she marry Loras Tyrell sooner than later so that these disgusting rumors could be left behind them. She had gone strangely mute and compliant after that, only speaking when spoken to and pouting as if she was a punished child. But Lord Tywin was no fool. If Cersei ever obeyed him, it usually meant she was plotting behind everyone's back. The Hand of the King planned Jaime's wedding to take place in the Sept, but then made no plans to throw a feast or following party. A simple wedding with no room for error... or poisoned wine.

Jaime and Y/n were married within a fortnight, exchanging new vows between each other and sealing those vows with a kiss for all in attendance to see. When they regrettably parted and turned to face their guests, Y/n held Jaime's golden hand while waving to the crowd and a part of Jaime felt reassured by that smallest gesture, despite not being able to feel her hand in his. Tywin didn't hesitate to send them both on their way to Casterly Rock, barely waiting for them to pack and leave that very same day. Jaime didn't speak a word against it, knowing how paranoid his father had become now that his grandchildren weren't legitimate and his legacy was in shambles. Lord Tywin would do anything for the family, even if it meant saving it from a jealous queen.

For a wedding gift, Tyrion Lannister gave his brother and his new sister-in-law a large, extravagant wagon to travel in on their way to the Westerlands. Within the wagon were red and gold cloths nearly lining up all the walls and floor, even the curtains. Underneath a seat was a secret, dry compartment filled with many expensive wine bottles, and in one corner lay a pile of pillows, cushions, and blankets. The Imp winked at his brother when watching Jaime's reaction, "You have a long journey ahead of you. I wanted you and your bride to be... comfortable. After all, we can't have you wait to consummate your marriage until you make it Casterly Rock, now can we?"

Despite the crude joke, Jaime laughed and hugged his little brother, partially sad because he was going to miss him. Tyrion held onto Jaime for a long time and then kissed Y/n's hand, "Until next time... Lady Lannister."

Y/n positively beamed under her new title. With short goodbyes to the rest of the farewell party, Jaime and Y/n leave in their new wagon with several of Tywin's best personal guards riding on horses alongside them. Once King's Landing fully disappeared behind them, Jaime opened the first bottle of wine and poured out two glasses. The newlyweds drank quietly, just enjoying each other's company, the worst being far behind them. After a time, Jaime stood at his full height, the ceiling of the wagon being large enough to do so, and held out his good hand to Y/n, "Might I have a dance, my lady?"

"You may, my lord," she took his hand and stood up with a wide, fond smile. As they stumbled and danced inside the moving carriage, neither said a word apart from laughing if they lurched forward when the wagon hit a bump or they tripped over one another's foot. With Jaime holding Y/n's hand with his good one and pulling her body tight to him with his golden one, he had felt more at peace than he ever did before he killed the Mad King. However, he starts to feel the loss of his limb again when he couldn't feel the warmth of Y/n's back against his missing fingers and palm, and earlier at their wedding, when he couldn't feel her hand in his.

"I want to hold you..." He found himself whispering in her ear.

She laughs under her breath, not grasping the distress in his voice quite yet as she leaned her head against his chest, "You are holding me."

"No, I-- I want to be able to hold you with both hands. That's all I ever wanted."

Y/n pulled her head away to stare up at her husband, recognizing the shame and humiliation shadowing his usual proud and golden features. His eyes tried to look away, but she raised her hand to cup his cheek gently, forcing him to keep their gaze locked. After a moment, Y/n smiled, "We can make that hand good for other things, Jaime."

"Like what?"

A twinkle in her eye causes Jaime's entire body to stiffen, his eyes carefully watching the way her lips moved as she smirked, "Like... how about I take that golden hand of yours and you watch me get myself off with it."

Despite his appearance, Jaime is old enough to be the father of a teenage king, and at this moment he felt his age catch up to him with how fast his heart was beating. He damn near thought he was going to have a heart attack and whatever showed on his face brought his new wife to laugh at him in his last moments. The sound alone could've brought Jaime to his knees if he wasn't holding Y/n for support. After her laughter died down, she lifted her hand to cup the back of his neck and pulled him down, greedily kissing him like he was the very oxygen she needed to breathe. Jaime's brain finally caught up with him and he kissed her back with equally fervent heat, taking his good hand to gently hold her face. With his eyes closed, he could feel his wife's hand wandering, leaving trails of burning need in her wake. Eventually, her fingers meet at the clasp of Jaime's gold hand and stay there, waiting.

Jaime opened his eyes to meet hers, finally realizing what she was doing. For a moment, he looked as though he wanted to refuse, to step away from Y/n and exclaim that she deserved someone who could love her with both hands. Someone who could protect her with both hands, someone... who could hold any future children with both hands. Jaime wanted that for her, more than anything, but with the way she was looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, lashes kissing her skin when she slowly blinked, Jaime couldn't resist. He forces down all the negativity in his head and nods to her.

Y/n swiftly tilts up to kiss his mouth with reassurance before looking back down at her hands, carefully taking off the prosthetic hand. After some fiddling, the hand slides off and Y/n takes it, using both hands to hold it. Jaime watches with slight amazement, taking a moment to notice how large the prosthetic looked compared to Y/n's own. Horses outside trotting alongside the wagon draw Jaime back to reality, looking back up to inspect his wife's face. Her face was flushed and her breaths were irregular as she reached out to gently push Jaime back towards the pile of quilts and cushions.

"Lie back, husband," chills ran down Jaime's back from the way Y/n's voice lowered, "And watch me."

Jaime obeyed, only watching her facial features as she lay down beside him, her skirts lifted as she used the gold hand to circle and rub her clit. He watched her lips as soft moans and sighs left them, the way her eyes struggled to stay open when she hit a certain spot. He watched her chest rising and falling as she neared completion, her beautiful sounds rising in volume with her whole body beginning to shake in anticipation. When the last moan she released sounded like his name, Jaime felt his loss of control drain from his body. Without a care in the world, he grabbed his gold hand from her and tossed it aside, ravishing his wife's lips with his own as his one hand hurried to untie his breeches and prep his erection to full mass. He had forgotten why he felt ashamed in the first place as he slowly, finally, entered her, with her fingers finding perch in his hair, gasping up at the ceiling of the wagon. Y/n shamelessly moaned his name, begging him for more in between gasps and confessions.

Now, for the first time, in all the years they've loved one another, there was no need to keep that love quiet.

For hands of gold are always cold But a woman’s hands are warm

~~~

A/N: Wow, I... I really strayed off the path, didn’t I? The actual request didn’t even come in until the last part... I gotta stop doing that.

Comment, like, and reblog!

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

Getting into an argument with Robb Stark and making up would include...

what and how you argue with robb most definitely depends on how long you've known him and what your status is

but the general theme would almost always be robb wanting to protect you and you thinking he's overreacting

like if you didn't know him that well and were of lower status, of course you would be much less likely to speak your mind

he was king of the north of course, from the stark family, there was protocol to follow

protocol being: keep your mouth shut and do as your told

but overtime as you became closer and more comfortable with him (or if you were childhood friends) you best believe this man would get an earfull

because yes this man is great in battle but my god can he make some daft decisions

the first time you raise your voice at him he literally takes a good 30 seconds to process it

it was after he'd run into a battle and attempted to sacrifice himself in his usual stark way

and he is so used to you being all sweet and gentle and now you're glaring at him with the fury of a thousand suns

'well? do not just stand there and gawk at me! what do you have to say for yourself!'

'did you just call me a fool?'

'yes and do not make me repeat myself'

'i'm just more shocked at the use of the word 'fool' that's all'

'would you prefer fucking idiot then?'

after the shock finally seeps away he straightens up and fires straight back at you

because he is robb stark of winterfell and he will choose to do what he pleases when he pleases

and then he sees the way your tears well up and your voice cracks when you admit you can't bare to lose him

and he knows he should concede and apologise but he just can't do it

and by the time he realises his error you're out the door in tears and it's too late

you manage to avoid him for a good few weeks after that

which robb secretly finds quite impressive

until eventually he bribes one of your friends to tell him where you are

and when he finally corners you he can see you're preparing yourself for round 2

but the anger seeps from you immediately when he brings out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back

and a soft confession that he's completely in love with you doesn't hurt to achieve your forgiveness

and once you're together or married your fights are quite infrequent

there's the occasional squabble or lighthearted snapping if you're both grumpy

and you don't hesitate to tell him to pull his head in when you can tell he's jealous

which happens more often than you would think

'seven hells robb he didn't do anything!'

'i didn't like the way he looked at you'

'he was probably looking at the direwolf sitting at my lap'

robb has the tendency to pout too

which is not something most people would expect

if you know it was your fault, it doesn't take much to break him out of it

a pout of your bottom lip and the biggest baby eyes you can muster as you crawl onto his lap usually does the trick

because it is impossible for this man to stay mad at you for long

if he's done something stupid, like be jealous, some flowers or breakfast in bed is usually all it takes for your resolve to crumble

and he knows the second it does because you shake your head as a smile starts to spread across your lips

which makes him grin as he jumps on top of you and begins to pepper your face with kisses

'you're a fucking idiot robb stark'

'i know'

the big blow ups between you usually involve something to do with his family or whatever political war is going on

and they can get ugly because both of you have a temper and a damn strong will

like to the point the guards outside your chambers will exchange glances because your shouts are echoing through the castle

and it's always about one of you wanting to do something brave and stupid

but god can it lead to great angry sex

like bed breaking, cup and dish shattering when robb shoves everything off his desk type of good

and then the guards are glancing at eachother again because your growls and moans are bouncing off the walls

you both have learnt that sweating your rage out in this way is both satisfying and productive

and then you inevitably lie in bed, panting and tangled in each others arms, realising how stupid your fight had been

i love yous and i'm sorrys are whispered and loving kisses are exchanged

and then passionate and loving make up sex always follows

no matter what you fight about, it never lasts long

you both know that you are stronger together

a united front, a force to be reckoned with

an unbreakable bond

saying all that though... do you occasionally do things to make him jealous?

maybe....

but hey, you would to if you'd had sex with a jealous robb stark before

[halcyon-writings]

— modern au of daemon targaryen as your willing sugar daddy and you, the reader, being the unwilling sugar baby. the first challenge: groceries.

nav.

you know he’s staring at you.

feeling his gaze burning into your back, you can’t help but feel a little intimidated even if you were the one who invited him to come with you. you ignore him, or at least, try to. instead returning to the matter at hand, debating if this pack of chicken was more expensive than the frozen bag in your cart.

“just get both-” you interrupt him with a sharp stare.

“I apologize, but some of us have budgeting plans and try not to overspend,” you respond.

daemon targaryen, brother to the ceo of the conglomerate of the same name, could not fathom it. you couldn’t blame him however, seeing as how he grew up with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth while you did not.

which now that you thought about it, how did you meet him anyway?

it begins as all classic friendships do, you seeing daemon targaryen passed out and smelling like alcohol almost in the middle of the street. you had known of him due to his reputation, less than stellar compared to his family’s. and coincidentally had a class with him at your college.

although most of the time he was sleeping off a hangover rather than do anything else.

having gotten off from a late shift waiting tables, you were already tired but almost seeing the man get his head crushed because he had literally lay almost half into the road, you knew you did not need that on your conscious. you helped move to the sidewalk and helped him sit up, got him to call any of his several bootycalls, and went on your merry way when you saw a ride arrive for him. that was the end of it. or at least you had hoped.

suddenly you had a table partner during the lecture you both shared, and what started as him watching you take notes, began as him slowly trying to get your attention in between breaks or after the class was over. and you, dear reader, having the backbone of a chocolate eclair, had not wished to be rude and humored him.

the rest they say, was history. or at least, enough to clue you in on what was to come. which was him staring as you decided on how you wanted to buy your poultry.

his hands move over yours as he takes the package and then maneuvers your cart as you look at him with surprise.

“daemon targaryen,” suddenly you feel like a parent scolding a child.

“_____ _____,” he repeats, and you almost want to throttle him.

he looks over his shoulder, sending a smirk your way, merrily strolling along with your cart. you can’t help but feel reminiscent of the times you’ve seen him dump his many partners over the course the time you had been at college. although you wouldn’t go near that with a 10 foot pole, their seemingly hysterical anger at his flippancy seemed exaggerated almost. but now, as you watched him, you got it. you really got it.

but because he was who he was, you sigh, putting your head in your hands, and follow.

the cashier dutifully rings up your purchases, despite you staring holes into your friend’s back. (can you call him a friend if he insists on buying you things? even though you have told him time and time again he had no need to?) he somehow had managed to not only take your cart but your wallet too, so he would stop you from paying.

and that’s how you had daemon targaryen, carrying your groceries to the fanciest car that stood out in the parking lot.

“I never get any help,” he huffs, taking all the grocery bags in his hands anyway.

“then let me carry one,” you deadpan, reaching for one of the bags, even though he keeps them out of your reach, “i’m giving you decaf the next time you want me to get you a coffee.”

he gasps in mock offense, “why I never-”

“yes yes, why you never,” you wave him off, already sitting yourself down into the passenger side.

he then joins momentarily, before leaning back, running a hand through his hair like he had just trekked miles.

“so, what do you want to get for lunch?”

“we just got groceries,” you look at him unimpressed, raising your eyebrow as you do.

“but do you really want to cook?” he counters, a knowing look on his face.

and so that’s how you found yourselves in the parking lot of a fast food joint, groceries in the trunk while you ate.

[targaryenimagines]

Northern Lights

Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,863

Summary:

Warnings: Self Esteem Issues

The land of Westeros wasn’t as comforting as you once remembered it to be. Of course, it had been a long while since you had been within its shores, but you remember a place filled with intrigue and mystery. Laughter, with hints of wariness, intermixed within the very ground that the Westerosi People walked upon. Now it was a frigid wasteland of the home you once thought you had. 

Being back, returning to the place where you had lost everything, wasn’t exactly what you had wished to do. You enjoyed your life within Essos: the sun on your face, the shrieks of the gulls in the bay, the harmonious energy that suffused itself within the market square, and the gorgeous architecture that seemed to have lost its way in Westeros. You never wished to go back. Never would have had the thought cross your mind if it wasn’t for the woman that held your heart.

If it wasn’t for your Khaleesi. Your dragon. 

Your Daenerys. 

You knew, better than most, what taking back the Iron Throne meant to the Targaryen. What it would mean if she could take back the country that her family had built; take back everything that had been stolen from her before she was even truly born. It’s for that very reason, and for the fact that you’d do anything she asked of you, that you found yourself on the deck of the gently swaying boat. Your attention locked onto the grand spires of Dragonstone in the distant horizon; a place you had only heard about from your mother before bed. It was clearly a place of great power, even if it had been abandoned for years at this point. Valyrian expertise didn’t seem to have an expiration date; not when it came to their creations.  

The feel of the wind whipping across your body, along with the frigid coldness of it, made it abundantly clear that you were standing by yourself on top of the deck. Daenerys had disappeared into the main cabin to with her advisors to devise strategic maneuvers once landfall was obtained. You’re not sure how long it had been since she vanished, but you know that you probably wouldn’t see her until the envoy arrived on Dragonstone. It was a fact that caused a hollow feeling to well within your chest; it hadn’t always been like this. Where Daenerys would be gone for long hours at a time without telling you where she had disappeared to. 

Of course, you’re well aware that Daenerys’ time was precious. She’s in the middle of an invasion; so close to achieving her lifelong dreams that had taken her years to get to this point. You weren’t going to take her attention away from what she had strived to achieve for so long, but that didn’t mean your heart and soul didn’t ache for your dragon to return to your side. To warm your chilled hand in hers and to reignite your heart with the flame of her love. 

You would bide your time to get your moment with Daenerys, but for now you’d simply step back and let Daenerys do what she was always meant to do. In time Daenerys would come back to you and you would be complete. 

Just like it was always meant to be. 

She’s not here...

A frown pulls at your brow as you leave the fifth room that you had believed would house your Khaleesi. You had been searching for her all morning, after tending to your children, because you had made a pact the night before last that you’d finally go flying together. Something that you hadn’t been able to enjoy in her presence for longer than you’d like to think about. However, when the meeting time came and went, you knew that you’d have to go search for Daenerys. Trying to fight the feeling of self-doubt at the realization that she had forgotten about you. 

Forcing the intrusive thoughts down, you step outside into the brilliant sunlight and calming wind. Quickly making your way down the various staircases, almost slipping a time or two because of the damp stone, you soon find yourself on the private cove that some of the Dothraki had made their home for the time being. It seemed that being in Westeros didn’t agree with everyone. 

“Vorro,” you call softly, attracting the attention of one of the few Dothraki warriors you were close with. His dark brown eyes lighting up briefly at the sight of your approaching form; a reaction that you appreciated more than he could ever realize. “Do you know where the Khaleesi is?” 

He tilts his head slightly. The confusion clear on his rugged features, not that you could blame him, after all when didn’t you know where Daenerys was? She always made it a point to tell you. Or used to...

Instead of responding in broken common tongue, Vorro points towards the cave that housed the surplus of Dragon Glass. A mineral that Daenerys hadn’t found that interesting until... 

With a brief smile towards Vorro, you hasten to the entrance of the cavern that was slowly starting to lighten due to torchlight. Your earlier fears coming to life because of the sight of Daenerys’ familiar form stepping out with Jon Snow. The two were clearly in the middle of a conversation, but the moment that Daenerys caught sight of you her entire countenance brightened. Something that you would have been touched by if it hadn’t been for the fact that she had forgotten. She had forgotten because of him. 

“Y/N,” Daenerys calls, a warm smile curling her lips. “What are you doing out here?” 

It was an innocent question-- one that didn’t mean anything-- but you couldn’t help but hear: Why are you here? I’m busy, I don’t have time for you. 

You offer her a tense smile. “I was in search of you, Daenerys.” It felt wrong to use her full name, she had always been Dany, but it seemed even more wrong to use such an intimate nickname in the presence of Jon. “Drogon and Viserion are already prepped for flight. Will you be much longer?”

The look in Daenerys’ eyes told you all that you needed to know before the words even passed her lips. Before Daenerys could even hope to soothe the pain, she had unknowingly inflicted upon your heart, Jon’s rumbling voice breaks through the tense silence. 

“Your Grace,” he murmurs. “Can we continue our conversation?” 

What conversation? You wanted to scream. What can possibly be more important than us at this current moment, Dany?

However, when Daenerys shifts her apologetic gaze towards you, you swallow the acidic words down and smile dryly at her. You couldn’t burden her with the issues that were beginning to pile upon your own plate. She was in the process of spearheading a war, an invasion the likes Westeros hadn’t seen since Aegon. Your insecurities shouldn’t get in the way of that. When you dipped your head in silent acquiesce to her silent question, Daenerys passes you with a gentle smile, but her attention soon shifts back to Jon Snow. Their low voices soon getting caught up in the sounds of the sea; leaving you behind to watch their disappearing shapes. 

Forgotten. Small. 

Things you had never felt with Daenerys before. It just gave you another reason that you hated that you came back to Westeros. To the land that always seemed to take everything from you. 

The biting wind of the North felt even harsher against the exposed portions of your skin as you stood off to the side. 

Alone. 

Observing as Daenerys greeted Sansa Stark and Tyrion made a quip you only barely paid attention to. You wanted nothing more than to be standing by Daenerys’ side, but Jon had taken the spot from you. Moving closer to at least feel like you were part of the inner circle, you watch as Bran Stark-- a boy that had been through much in his few years alive-- shifted in his seat. The action causing everyone’s attention to shift towards him, but his gaze simply stared at Daenerys blankly. 

“He’s with him you know.” Even his voice sounded hollow, as if he wasn’t truly there. It was chilling affect that almost caused you to miss his next words. “Viserion. He’s with the Night King.”

Everything turned to white noise at that. The feel of the wind against your skin gone, the distant sounds of the townspeople static, and the horrified expression that Daenerys has on her face as she looks at you all but invisible. You couldn’t feel anything except the pain of your heart breaking all of over again. 

Viserion, your mind cries. Your Viserion. 

The gentlest of all your sons. The one with scales as like liquid sunlight and shimmering gold eyes that offered just as much warmth as any fire. Who crooned to you sweetly when you curled against him at Dragonstone, who always knew how to make you feel better within the poisonous landscape that is Westeros. Images of his cream-colored head bowing to you, offering you a place on his back, flits through your mind; the exhilaration you had felt when you soared high above Meereen. The bond that you had always felt with him truly cemented into place. You both growing into more than mother and son, you were dragon and rider. 

A bond that had been broken when Daenerys had headed North, beyond The Wall, to save Jon Snow. Almost costing you the love of your life, but instead you lost your son. Your precious son that didn’t deserve to perish in the icy wasteland. Who didn’t deserve to be alone when he took his last breath. 

You didn’t even register that Daenerys was softly calling your name. That concern was etched across every line on her face as her violet eyes traced over your form. You didn’t register that Missandei had made her way over to you until her warm hand gently touched your arm. An action that caused you to jerk back as if you had been burned. 

Leave. You needed to leave. 

Being around everyone, feeling their stares on you, was only causing your thoughts to spiral that much more. Hot tears brimming your eyes, threatening to spill over, and you didn’t wish to cry in front of the Stark’s. You didn’t wish to let them see how much Westeros had broken you. 

So, without putting much stock into the action, you turn and rush down the side yard that you hope would lead you out into the open area beyond the walls of the castle. Where you knew that your two remaining sons would be. You needed to be near them, to be surrounded by their warmth. It was a thought that was so consuming you didn’t see Daenerys’ gaze widen before she took off after you. Her attention, for once in a long while, completely on you; like it should have been after you had both lost Viserion. 

The crunch of the snow underfoot, and the frigid wind, wasn’t helping with your spiraling thoughts. You wanted nothing more than to be back in the warmth that was Essos. To be back in a place where Viserion would have never been taken from you. Where he wasn’t being used as a pawn in a war that he should have never been part of. 

Stumbling to a halt, your legs too weak to go any further, you sink down onto the ground and burrow your face in your hands. Trying in vain to stop the sobs from escaping the confines of your mouth; even as salty tears began to make trails down your face. Pain, and the desolation of being alone within your grief, caused your body to be wracked by the force of your grief. To the point that you didn’t even feel the snow melting underneath your knees.

Nor did you hear the sound of approaching footsteps until a familiar warm body sinks down in front of you. Gloved hands gently taking hold of your wrists to pry your hands from your face. The vision of Daenerys’ pained expression being the first thing you see through the blurry eyes. Her own violet gaze etched with her own grief but, forever the strong one, her tears weren’t going to escape any time soon. 

“I didn’t know,” she murmurs, a certain softness in her tone. As if she was afraid, you’d break entirely if she spoke too loudly. “I was too blind to see how much you were hurting, my love. Too caught up in my vision of what I wanted our future to be that I forgot about the present we’re currently living in.”

Her words, while sweet, did little abate the pain her actions had caused you. Of the insecurities that well within your chest whenever you think of Jon Snow. “When we lost Viserion--” You breath catches in your throat at the painful reminder, but you continue on. You needed to get this out. “I felt like I didn’t just lose him, Dany. I felt like I lost you too because you were consumed by the Iron Throne.”

The tears within her violet eyes become even more prominent. “There’s nothing I can say that can excuse my actions towards you, Y/N. Nothing I can say that will take the pain that I inflicted onto you away, but I want you to know that even when I wasn’t with you, I was always thinking of you.” She leans forward to place her forehead against yours; her sweet smell wafting across your senses in a way you’ve missed terribly. “When I was in the War Room, planning my next move, all I could think about was winning the battle to ensure that our life, the life I’ve always promised you, would be secure. When I spoke to Jon Snow about allowing the North to use Dragon Glass, I could only think about protecting you. That creating a strong alliance, with a standing noble house, would ensure your protection.”

Daenerys pressed a light kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“And when I went North without you, beyond The Wall, all I could think about was returning to you. About making sure that the alliances I’ve strived for wouldn’t be in vain, because of a foolish plan that you had warned me against. Then with Viserion--” This time her own voice cuts off, grief thick within her voice at the thought of son. “I-I couldn’t face you knowing that I was the reason for his death. That if it hadn’t been for my desire to make our future real, to make our happy ending a reality, then I wouldn’t have been foolish enough to agree with a plan that was doomed to fail from the start. I would have listened to you because I know you’ve always had my best interest at heart. Our son would still be alive if it wasn’t for me. If I hadn’t turned into Viserys.” 

Despite your own pain, and the residual effects of what had transpired in the last few months, you couldn’t keep the sharpness out of your tone. “Viserion dying wasn’t your fault, Dany.” You cup her cheeks, pressing your forehead firmly against her own. “It’s the Night King’s fault. He’s the one that killed our son and he’s the one using Viserion as a puppet. You love our children, more than anything, and I know that you would have never put Viserion into harm’s way unless you felt like it was necessary.”

Nuzzling closer, Daenerys lets loose a sigh that seemed to be from her very soul. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been here for you, but I promise that will change now. I’m not going to be so focused by the future, of what could be, that I forget about what’s currently happening. Can you forgive me, my love?”

“I already have, Dany.” You press a light kiss to her lips. “You’re certain that there’s nothing going on between yourself and Jon?” 

Violet eyes sear into your own gaze with a heat that could be likened to dragon fire. 

“Never, Y/N.” Daenerys pulls you closer to her body, her warmth fighting off the North’s cold perfectly. “I can see Jon Snow becoming an ally, maybe even a friend, but you will forever be the one that has my heart. You’re the light that will forever bring me home, keep me grounded, and I won’t ever take that for granted again. I can live without the Iron Throne, but I can’t live without you.”

Tightening your arms around Daenerys, you don’t feel the need to say anything else for the time being. Instead, you burrow closer in your dragon’s embrace and simply bask in the warmth you had been missing ever since you had gotten to Westeros. 

Everything falling into place after so long of everything being askew. You didn’t need anything more in this moment.

Not as long as you had Daenerys’ arms wrapped around you, and the promise of her love echoing within your heart and soul.

[luvinescent]

Stealing Time

Pairing: Modern!Robb Stark x fem!Reader

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

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

Word count: 3933

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is your brother?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N went to go change?”

“Yes”, M/H/N said instantly.

“And Robb went to go change his shoes?”

“Yes”, now it was Jon.

“…and they went together?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is somebody in there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hopelesswritergall]

Not sure your opinions on Bran Stark, but maybe him falling in love with the reader while they’re assorted into an arranged marriage? He grows jealous and decides he needs to keep you in Winterfell with him, so he does everything he can to make you his despite your oath of marriage to maybe a Lannister?

Or just any Bran Stark x Reader content, I love that man so much 🤭🤭

Yesss darling!! Baby I think I made it GN but if you catched a gender thingy let me know!

Summary: Bran didn’t like Y/N at first, so when their parents announced they were to be betrothed he refused. That hurts. But then Tommen came and he disliked that even more. He would show you that he is better than that bastard.

A/N: I do not follow the original storyline cause yeah no. We don’t do that here on this blog. Also fuck their winters and shit. In this story it’s just all 4 seasons in 1 year. And your house is Greenfield a (non-existing) house which is south of Winterfell and often associated with the Vale and shit.

It’s sort of very long headcanons :)

Tag list: @crownedtargaryen

Let me know if you want to be added babes

It was the summer of Bran’s thirteenth birthday, when they got the news. The Greenfield’s were coming to visit and they were bringing their child Y/N Greenfield. They were often talked about, how they would grow up to become one of the prettiest people alive. Bran couldn't care less. He just wanted to learn archery and not much more.

When the Greenfields arrived his whole family was running around making sure that everything looks perfect. "Robb, can we train this afternoon?" "Bran, we do not have the time for training, we need to prepare. Do something useful and go help father or something.” Stupid Greenfields, now they’ve ruined his weekly training session with Robb, what else are they going to ruin? On his way to his father he ran into his mother Catelyn. “Bran! What are you still doing in these clothes?! Go and put on sometching more formal! Don’t just stand here, GO!” His mother looked very nervous and it almost seemed like this visit would determine their fate as a house.

Deciding not to push the buttons of his mother even more he complied, and asked a servant to bring him some formal clothes. (You didn’t think he would do that himself now did you??). Once it was on his bed he begrudgingly put it on, already feeling as if he doesn’t really like the Greenfields one bit.

He begrudgingly went downstairs to meet with his parents. His parents, Robb, Sansa, Rickon,his adopted brother Jon and hell even Arya were dressed up. They all wore their best clothes for the visit

They all waited for the carriage to enter the gates of Winterfell and they didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes after everything gathered a carriage came into view. It was decorated with beautiful green ornaments and golden leaves on the sides.

Your father, mother and your 2 older brothers left the carriage before you and as last but definitely not least you.

“My lord stark, may I present to you. My eldest : Tobas, my second eldest: Darron. And my youngest : Y/N.” Your father spoke

“It’s a pleasure to meet you guys, really! Come on in! Let the kids get to know each other, they’ll be spending lots of time together in the future so…..” Ned spoke the last part quietly not wanting to reveal anything yet.

You stood there swaying on your feet until you spotted Bran, he looked around your age so you approached him, wanting to seem nice.

“Hi! My name is,” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he walked away. “Y/N.” You were confused as to why he suddenly walked away. You were only trying to be nice.

“Don’t pay him any attention Y/N, my name is Sansa! Come, you can sit next to me at dinner.” She joined your guy’s arms and walked with you to where you would be staying at.

Ned and your father had made plans to unite your houses when you were born. Tobas and Darron were too old to be wedded to either Sansa or god forbid Arya. But you, you were the perfect age and being born only a few months after Bran? It was a miracle.

At the dinner the announcement was made and my god was it an experience

“Ned, thank you so much for hosting this amazing dinner for us. We couldn’t be more honoured and I believe that as a host you should be the one to announce it.”

“Thank you Duncas,” Ned cleared his throat before he said the words that ruined it all for Bran. “The Starks and Greenfields will be united through a marriage. Bran and Y/N are destined to be wedded as soon as Y/N turns eighteen. Until then they will spend much time together. Let’s all celebrate this alliance!”

Bran felt like he was going to puke. He didn’t want to marry anyone and why them?! They weren’t special or anything, so he sulked and pouted the entirety of the dinner.

You on the other hand already had a feeling when your father announced that you would be visiting Winterfell. You knew that it would be good for your family and Winterfell would be an important ally. Besides Bran wasn’t that bad looking. Wink wink

“Do you hear this Y/N?! We’ll be sisters!” It seemed like Sansa was more excited than your future husband. This was off to a great start.

Over the span of the following 5 years, Bran would be 18 and you would turn 18 later that year, you were forced to spend a lot of time together. Sansa had already accepted you as her sister and you really liked her. Bran on the other hand…..

He was a CUNT. Always ignoring you, making snide remarks about your looks or manners. “No Y/N, I don’t know how you do it down south but we don’t do that here in the North.” He would always make you feel insecure, like you didn’t belong there.

Bran wasn’t the best with women and he didn’t despise you contrary what you might believe. He just didn’t really express him self that good. Alright, he was just shit at communicating and thought it would be better to just make you stay away. :)

You practically lived in Winterfell and the Starks would be receiving some royal visitors. The Queen and her son Tommen would come to visit Winterfell. You were very excited because you never met them before and heard great stories about the future king.

“Sansa! Imagine that the prince would like one of us? Then we’d become the next queen! Isn’t that just a dream?” That is what Bran overheard when he was walking around the place.

“Do you think he could end your betrothal to my brother? If he does, promise me you will remember me!” “Sansa, I will never ever forget you!”

Next day at dinner he decided to do a teeny tiny bit of questioning, did you really like the prince? Were you so desperate to get away from him?

“So Y/N, excited for the visit of the prince?” He gave you a sweet angelic look

“Yeah! I’ve heard great stories about him. Did you hear that he is great at archery and sword fighting?! Like that’s so cool!”

Bran scoffed a bit and replied snarkier than he intended “Pff well I am good with bow and arrow as well you know?”

The day of the visit

You were practically running around, trying to look your absolute best for the prince. You were very intrigued by all the stories you heard the people tell.

“Children, please come to the courtyard, they are arriving!” You could hear Ned’s voice coming from downstairs. With a last glance at the mirror, and deciding you looked amazing as usual you went downstairs.

You took your spot next to your husband to be, who looked extremely happy to see you as he always does haha not. “Good morning Bran! Excited for the visit?” You almost shined with excitement. “Cant wait.” Bran first wanted to cancel the betrothal by making you and the prince a thing. But now as he heard you speak about the prince already without ever seeing him, and now seeing you radiating with energy he started to doubt his intentions.

Could it be possible that he didn’t want to lose you?

Well no time to think about it, Tommen is leaving the carriage and approaching him and you.

“Hello Bran, very nice to see you again. But who is this beautiful person next to you? Excuse me, but I never had the pleasure to mee you I think.” Tommen extended his hand which you gladly accepted, and he planted a gentle kiss on top of your hand.

“Your grace, my name is Y/N of the house Greenfield.” You were delighted that the prince even spoke to you.

“Ah the youngest of the Greenfields, I’ve heard stories about how you are considered one of the prettiest people alive. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Alright Bran was getting more annoyed by the second now, so the little devil he is decided to meddle a bit.

“I’m so lucky to have Y/N as my betrothed,” Bran wrapped his hands around you which took you by surprise. “I really have to thank my father for that.”

“Ah so you are the man lucky enough to be the betrothed of the prettiest person? Well consider yourself lucky Bran, I know a lot of people who would think not twice before offering their hand.”

“Yeah….. Very lucky indeed.” With that the Prince left to enter the castle and settle into a room.

“Alright what the fuck was that Bran?” you hissed at him.

“Whaaattttt? Can’t I appreciate my future wife?” He replied as if he had done nothing wrong.

“Well you didn’t do anything of the sorts the past 5 years so it’s a bit suspicious don’t you think?!”

You tried to walk away but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in. “I meant what I said just now. Thought you should know.”

With that the future lord of Winterfell left you there standing alone in the middle of the courtyard. Very confused and stunned

You never truly disliked Bran but it seemed he did for a while. So where was this coming from?

“Y/N can you help me with my hair?” That was Sansa shouting at you from the window.

“I’m coming!”

The dinner disaster

What is it with people and placing people where they do not want to be?

On the head of the table was Ned, on his left side were Cathelyn, Arya, Sansa and Robb. On the other head was Cersei. To Ned’s right were Bran, you and then Tommen.

You were placed directly between them, how awkward.

“So Y/N, what do you enjoy doing these days here in Winterfell? I can imagine that it is very different than in the Vale.” The queen spoke to you. Oh my god she acknowledged you.

“Well you highness, even though it is indeed very different from the Vale I don’t think it are bad differences. The main one I had to adapt to is that it’s a bit colder. But as to what I enjoy doing, I really like to ride my horse in the woods. I enjoy reading in our library and recently I have followed some lessons alongside Sansa and Arya in stitching. Although I don’t know if that’s my thing or if it’s too “girly” for me.”

Next to speak was Tommen. “Reading and horseback riding? So many talents in one person, I imagine that the Gods decided to not divide it evenly and that someone missed out.” He said while clearly looking at Bran with the last statement.

Bran deciding to try to ignore Tommen as much as possible spoke to you in such a kind voice you thought he was a different person. “Y/N, what did you read as last again? I remember being very intrigued by it and I would like to read it as well.”

“Oh well, it was something called The history of the Throne. It was very interesting, the stories went back to almost the beginning of the Targaryen dynasty. It also described the dance of the dragons and all that drama in great detail!” You replied back sweetly, but speaking to Bran caused you to turn your back to Tommen which he didn’t really appreciate so he spoke again.

“Aha speaking about the dance of the dragons, do you like them? And who do you think was the rightful heir to the throne?”

So you turned around again now facing Tommen. “Do I like dragons? Who in their right mind doesn’t? The rightful heir, that a very difficult question. I fully understand Rhaenyra, buuuuutt I also understand where Alicent came from. She just thought that Viserys meant their son Aegon and from that point it all became very very confusing.” Tommen was smiling at the attention, Bran however was not.

Before he had the chance to speak the Queen spoke up and you were relieved to hear someone else speak for a while. You weren’t really listening so you were surprised when you heard your name being called by her. “Y/N, darling did you hear me?” “Sorry my Queen I was a bit distracted, could you repeat it for me please?” “I asked you if you like it here in Winterfell and if you look forward to your marriage with Bran?”

Bran grew anxious, if you said no he would be fucked and lose the person he loved.The queen would probably suggest you coming along with her and then marry the prince. Wait hold on did he just think that he loves you? Nono that must be a mistake right? I don’t love Y/N, or do I?

You noticed Bran spacing out and gently placed your hand on top of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. This seemed to bring him back and he looked a bit surprised at you.

“My queen I can assure you that I’m really enjoying Winterfell and I coudnt be more excited for the wedding.” This seemed to shock almost everyone at the table, including Ned and Catelyn. Who tried on numerous occasions to change their sons mind.

“That’s good to hear. Tommen my dear, is everything okay? You look a bit pale.” All of your eyes went over to Tommen who indeed looked paler than normal, probably hoping you weren’t happy. You knew how Tommen must feel and pitied him a bit, so you leaned in close to him and whispered “I know a woman who would be lucky to meet you my prince, she is prettier than I am. Her name is Margaery Tyrell.”

Tommen instantly felt a lot better and couldn’t wait to leave Winterfell all of a sudden.

You and Bran? You guys got married the week after you turned 18, he is your little grumpy man.

[insomniakisses]

Her little cubs

Character: Cersei Lannister (GOT)

Reader: gender neutral, omega, afab

Warnings/notes: pregnancy, omegaverse au.

Part one is here.

The feeling of soft kisses being placed on your bump woke you up, a soft smile pulling onto your lips at the soft sight. Your wife rubbing and kissing your 9 month bump talking softly to the little cub inside your belly.

“I’m so exited to meet you my little lion cub,” she kisses your bump nuzzling her nose against it “and so is your mom, but you gotta be still and good for them okay? No kicking them too much okay my precious cub?”

You smile reaching to run your hand through her hair, causing her to smile up at you. “Good morning baby” she grins up at you moving up gently being careful of your bump as she does.

Laying next to you, she pulls you into her. Her stomach resting against your bump as she rubs the side of it gently. Kissing you softly.

“Its almost time to meet our little cub” she whispers against you kissing you softly unable to hide her excitement.

You chuckle and say if only they’d come sooner wincing as the babe kicks your ribs hard. Your wife coos kissing your head and holding you close.

—

After hours of labour your son was finally here, tufts of golden hair on his beautiful head. You smile sleepily as Cersei cradles him as if he’s the most precious and fragile thing in the world.

“Perfect,” she whispers eyes full of tears. “He’s perfect” she coos. Looking at you and yalls son with the utmost adoration and pride

“I’m so proud of you my love” she kisses your head, “rest my love, I’ll stay with you both” she whispers. Eyes soft as your son starts to fall asleep.

—

“[FIRST NAME] EDDARD LANNISTER! YOU GET HERE RIGHT NOW”

you cant help laugh at the sound of your wife yelling after your son. Your amusement grows when your naked 2 year old son comes running round the corner a tired looking Cersei holding his clothes.

You smile at her as you finish feeding your daughter Joanna, passing her to Cersei and recovering your chest before grabbing the giggling toddler. “Now little lion, do you think you can be the best boy and get change for me and mommy?” Your ask tickling his sides slightly.

“YES MOMMY!” He practically roars causing you to laugh at him, your daughter falling into a laughing fit at her brother too.

Now fully dressed your son wriggles in your hold, you release him watching him run around the terrace after a butterfly. His personal guard having a mini heart attack chasing after him.

Too occupied watching your son, you fail to see the way your wife’s face is full of happiness and adoration. She stares at you and your son your daughter asleep in her arms and she swears shes never been happier. Oh how she loves her little family.

[francis-writes]

Can I request a oneshot for Ramsey Bolton x fem reader where the reader is a servant and Ramsey is attracted to her but doesn’t act on it and she accidentally stumbles upon him killing his father and she hides in the corner somewhere in the room and over hears him planning to kill his stepmother and brother so she tries to help them and get to them before Ramsey dose but she is unsuccessful and Ramsey discovers what she tried to do so she begs for forgiveness and he tells her he will consider it if she can prove to him why she deserves it so he takes her to the room where he flays people and has sex with her on the X-shaped cross ?

A/N: it isn't really good but in my defense, I wrote like half of it while still high on acid so...

Warnings: it's Ramsay, what do you expect

You were watching from behind the corner, praying to all the Gods so your presence would remain hidden and unnoticed. Otherwise you would end up in worse situation that those people you tried to protect.

Your were barely breathing, listening to the screams of Fat Walda. You weren't even able to look at it, just a few moments after dogs attacked her, you turned away your gaze, feeling nauseous. You would love to be wherever else, as far as possible from this place but right now there were no escape from hearing the gut-wrenching screams of agony as woman and her child were ripped apart by the hounds.

You closed your eyes, distancing yourself from overhelming reality but soon you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Ramsay asked. His voice wasn't angry but it didn't matter. You saw him flaying people with a calm mundane voice so you never knew what's awaiting you in his presence.

"I was just walking to the kitchen-" you tried to quickly make up and excuse but Ramsay only slapped your face. You touched tour burning cheek.

"Don't lie. I heard what you were talking about with my stepmother. You came here to warn them"

You simply nodded. Whatever the punishment will be, better not make it any worse.

"Forgive me, my lord, I made a mistake... Please, show me mercy" you pleaded, avoiding looking right into his cold eyes.

Ramsay observed you with mixed feelings. Your betrayal ignited his anger, and you should pay for your lack of loyalty. But at the other hand, seeing you terrified, cowering like a beaten dog... that was a gorgeus sight.

You were on his mind for quite some time but he didn't show it before. He was only observing you wander through the halls and do your chores while he fantasized about taking you on a hunt or pulling you to the nearest bedroom. Even during the feasts, while you were serving him, he only looked, holding himself back from pulling you on his lap and sliding a hand under your dress.

"Can you prove that you deserve it?"

"Hm?" That wasn't the smartest answer. It wasn't even mediocre sensible. But you didn't expect your pleads to bring any sort of answer, except for slow and cruel death.

"If you prove that you're worth of my forgiveness, you'll receive it"

You felt on your knees, ignoring the mud staining your clothes and freezing your knees.

"Thank you my lord, I will do anything, just tell me how I can prove myself-"

Ramsay cut your monologue, pulling you from the ground and leading you inside the castle. You felt disgusted by how much you had to humiliate yourself but it was still better from tortures. Just in case it saved you from any because Ramsay went into the dungeons.

Your anxiety has increased when you entered one of the cells and you saw X-shaped cross standing in the middle. You knew well what happened to people who ended up here.

"Will you flay me?" You asked, just to make sure and spare yourself the torture of uncertainty.

"No, as long as you behave. So if you want to keep your skin, take off your clothes"

You obeyed him, though still frozen with fear. Your dress landed on the floor and you were standing in front of him completely bare. Ramsay took your hand and lead you to the cross, then he started fastening your arms to the cross with a strong rope. You could feel it pressing and scraping your skin but you gritted your teeth, trying not to make a sound.

When he finished his job, Ramsay took a knife from the table. You thought that he lied and it's gonna be your end but he started carving letters on your chest. You moaned quietly as pain pierced your body. You looked down and noticed that under blood runnig down your body, Ramsay was carving his name in your skin.

"No one will doubt now, whom I belong to" you said, not sure why but after all experienced anxiety and fear, your mind get rid of every barrier and sensible plans. You were one foot in a grave and nothing mattered anymore.

When he finished his art, Ramsay leaned over and licked your wounds. You arched your back, in mix of pain and pleasure. His warm tongue caressing your broken skin brought you some twisted form of excitement. The same one you always felt looking at Ramsay. You knew about his depravities and what he could do to you, but you couldn't help desiring him. He was alluring in a way of forest fire, that brings death and destruction, but you can't stop looking at it. You dreamed about his touch for many years but you never expect it would happen in such circumstances.

Ramsay crouched and started kissing your naked legs, going up and getting closer to your crotch. Then, out of sudden, he bit your inner thigh and you gave out a quiet scream. You didn't look at him but you were more than sure that he smiled hearing this.

He stood up, his warm calloused hands wandered across your body, caressing your belly, breast, hips and squeezing your butt.

Finally his hand wandered between your legs.

"Your already wet" he noticed with smugness in his voice "So that's what you like? Pain? Being on my mercy?"

You wanted to deny, to don't give him that knowledge. But you knew he wouldn't believe you and he would torture you until you admit it; though some of these tortures would probably turn you on.

You nodded.

He lifted your legs,  so you could embrace your hips with them. He pulled out his dick, and entered you without any preparation. Fortunately, you were already wet enough so it went smoothly. He pressed his body to you and stared thrusting. Ramsay nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck and you felt his hot breath of your skin. Occasionaly, he bit your neck and shoulders. Now it was more exciting than painful, though you knew you were going to wear bruises for a long time.

He had to be very turned on because after few minutes of fucking you, he gasped and feeled you to the brim with his seed. He pulled out and you could feel his cum running down your legs.

"So... will you free me now, my lord? You asked while he was pulling on his trousers. Ramsay chuckled and walked to the table with his tools.

"If you think it's an end, you haven't been paying attention . We're gonna spend a lot of time together "