#asoiaf smut

[targaryen-dynasty]

SEMPITERNAL.

final part of Precious Delights

Dad!Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, breeding kink, slight praise kink, kinda medieval daddy kink (?), size kink, lactation kink, lactating, pregnancy, pregnant sex

WORDS: 4.3 K

NOTES: Precious Delights comes to an end with this. I‘m a bit sad, because I really started to love the series, but I think I've managed to end it in a good way. Thanks to everyone that joined me on this journey.

It was going to be a day of revelry. The construction of the Red Keep had been completed, and your husband found it fitting to throw a feast in celebration for those who had taken part in it. 

Taking on a fatherly aura the moment your twins took their first breaths, Maegor didn’t want the festivities to start without his precious family present, even though you were meant to depart for your chambers once they started to indulge themselves in bawdier things. 

“You have to sit still if you want Mama to finish the braid quickly,” you warned the little girl sitting in front of you, though there was no sharpness to your tone, knowing you could not expect your daughter to sit still for so long. She was just three summers old after all, and just as excited about the feast as everybody else. 

Your own flowing locks loosely cascaded down your back and shoulders, not combed and unbraided as you had been taking care of your children the whole morning, often taking their care into your own hands as they were a blessing from the Gods above. And, while Visenya was clad in a black dress that once belonged to you when you were around the same age, your swollen curves still were concealed by a white nightgown. 

The raspy chuckle you heard, as your little girl didn’t remain still long enough for you to finish the task properly, prompted you to turn your head towards your husband, sitting in a stool not too far away while the barber tended to his hair and neatly trimmed beard. 

You raised an eyebrow in innocent enquiry at the sound, which briefly changed into something different while your eyes flickered over his frame. He was dressed, but barely. His cloak, and most pieces of his wardrobe, still were draped over a chair across the room from where he sat. His torso was exposed from the waist up, covered only by the leather breeches he wore. 

Maegor had a grin on his lips – entirely different to the expression he usually wore around servants and maids. In the confines of your chambers, he often lowered his guard, not too concerned about what others thought was proper. But in the presence of other people, he was always focused on remaining harsh and cold, wanting to display his dominance and power. 

“Have you been at this all morning?” Maegor asked, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes trailed over your body just like yours had done before. A hint of nervousness filled your veins, and you scolded yourself internally for your thoughts to stray towards things you should not be thinking at that moment. 

Not bothering to hide the blush that covered your cheeks, you finally replied. “Yes, I started at first light, not long after you left. I was hoping to finish before sundown, but this little one…,” you emphasized the word, causing your daughter to glance over her shoulder, flashing her father a big smile, “... has other ideas.”

You continued to braid her hair, trying to stop the braid from becoming too tight whilst also keeping the little princess’ fidgeting at bay. The barber was done trimming Maegor’s beard at this point, packing his utensils and scurrying off at once. 

“You would think that at three she would be more disciplined,” you sighed, smiling softly at your daughter. “But she takes after you.” Briefly pressing your lips into a thin line, you wondered if you had overindulged yourself in the bantering the moment the words slipped past your lips, and if Maegor knew you were just joking. Partially, at least. 

Visenya was the spitting image of your husband in more ways than one. Not when it came to the looks, as she was taking after you in that, but her rambunctious spirit was most definitely one of the attributes she shared with him. Aerion, however, was a different story. His looks resembled Maegor’s more and more with each passing day, while he had inherited your gentle presence. 

As Maegor chuckled, your frayed nerves calmed again. “You might have been better off dressing yourself before attempting to braid her hair,” he jested. 

“And I thought you might have helped, instead of sitting there and making witty comments,” you replied, glancing at Maegor, and trying to disguise your slight frustration as playfulness, directing your husband to your current predicament. 

You knew you couldn’t expect the King to take care of his children, not on an important day like this, but you also knew that Maegor more often than not had deferred his duties in the past in order to bond with the twins. 

Not wanting to admit defeat, you continued to braid your daughter’s hair, fighting against her lack of patience, and trying to finish before she kicked the entire braid off her head. Eventually, you were successful, pulling the braid into a bun behind little Visenya’s head. 

Maegor rose from his seat, and walked over to where you sat behind your daughter. He focused his attention on her, admiring her and your work for a moment, a soft sigh escaping him as he scooped her up into his arms. 

You smiled at the sight, your heart swelling in your chest, more so as you watched the gentleness with which he handled her. In a feeble attempt, Visenya tried to escape his bear hug, grumbling slightly as he snuggled her head and smelt her hair. It was the same as whenever you did it, but something in your children’s scents was just too intoxicating. 

Tilting his head back, Visenya’s little hands grazed over his beard, seemingly enjoying the feeling of the coarse hairs under her fingers just as much as you did, before she placed them at the sides of his thick neck for stability. 

He smiled softly at your daughter, a smile that scarcely graced his features when looking at you. It was gentle and loving, and whenever his eyes met yours, his expression was tinted with desire and longing. 

“Does Mama not know that your Papa is a skilled swordsman, and not a hairdresser?” Maegor asked your daughter in a playful tone, swaying her in his arms and pressing his lips to her temple. She was giggling uncontrollably, barely comprehending what he said, clearly keening at his affection and attention. 

When the doors to your chambers opened, the wet nurse came in with a styled and dressed prince at her side. Getting Aerion ready had taken you one hour at most, and was far less complicated. 

Upon spotting his father carrying his sister in his strong arms, the boy all but barrelled towards him in jealousy. The wet nurse failed to pull him back, leaving him as he tugged on the leg of Maegor‘s leather breeches, demanding to be picked up as well. 

You used the opportunity and leaned past Maegor, trying to fix a stray strand of Aerion’s silver hair – but the excited boy didn't have any of it. 

“My my, look who is here,” Maegor said with a smile, kneeling down while carrying Visenya on his hip.

The boy hugged his father tightly, squeezing him with all the strength he could muster with his tiny arms, which left Maegor chuckling. You could not feel any greater joy than seeing the brute of a man, mostly known for his harshness, so soft and full of affection for his children. 

“I want up, Papa. I want up, now,” the boy demanded, wrapping his arms around Maegor’s neck. The sight was adorable, and you could see on your husband’s face just how much he basked in your children’s affection. 

“Up you say, mh?” Placing a hand under the boy’s bottom, your husband lifted him up with ease, carrying both children on his hips. 

You sighed, bringing a hand to your swollen belly as you planted your feet firmly on the ground, and slowly rose from your seat. It was evident Maegor had wanted to help you, to reach out to support you, but with both arms filled with your twins, he could merely offer you his forearm for you to hold onto. 

This pregnancy was not as woeful as your first one, truly a blessing from the Gods above. And your husband was more generous this time as well, allowing you to walk the gardens and the keep all by yourself, despite it taking you a bit longer to be with child again. The pregnancy in general was not that strenuous for your body, though your breasts and bump had swollen to ridiculous proportions already, and you barely exceeded the fifth moon. 

Approaching them, you brought both hands up to their cheeks, the pad of your thumbs brushing along their soft skin as they leaned into your touch. “That is enough, you two,” you hummed, smiling softly. “You must go with Erena now. We have guests arriving soon, and Mama is not ready yet. It would not do to keep our guests waiting.” 

The twins pouted, but with neither you nor Maegor being too lax with them, they knew there was no chance they could stay for any longer. You motioned for the wet nurse to approach, before you cupped your children’s faces one by one, and pressed a kiss to their foreheads. 

“Aye, you have heard your mama,” Maegor said, having your back. His eyes had taken over a half-lidded look as they were all but glued to your features, your lips mostly, watching you and admiring your motherly aura. 

He put both of them down, but not without ruffling your boy’s hair in a way that had you taking in a deep breath, trying to keep the anger of him destroying Aerion’s hairdo at bay. 

Clinging to the wet nurse's hands, they left the room at once, no doubt going to their chambers for her to read them a book. There were merely two servants around you at this point, stopping in their tracks as Maegor’s deep voice rang out. “Leave us,” he ordered sternly, his usual demeanor crawling back to the surface. 

It was the side of him your children were not meant to see, at least for now, and with Maegor’s paw coming to your swollen belly once you were alone, the softness returned. Cupping your bump gently, he looked down at it in awe.

“Are you ready for the feast?” you asked, smiling softly at him before your eyes trailed over the expanse of his bare chest. 

“I am, for as long as you’re by my side,” he said, his other hand trailing over the slight curve of your waist. Both his hands now rested where the swell was, feeling the gentle curve of your bump. When he spoke again, you could hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice, his words making you chuckle. “But I fear the crowd will pay more attention to you than me.” 

Bringing your hands up to his face, you cupped it just like you had done with the twins before, your thumbs brushing the stubble on his jaw. His eyes softened, fixing yours. “I can not wait for you to be with my fourth child,” he spoke with a mischievous grin. 

You raised a brow. “Oh, only if you will be the one carrying the babe,” you retorted, the tease in your voice and sparkle in your eyes hinting at something only he would understand. “I doubt this pregnancy will spare me from the terrible birthing pains, and I do not know whether I can endure it for a third time.”

Maegor sighed at your words, his hands running over your sides once more, before one moved to the back of your head, threading into your thick locks. Gently tugging your head back, he leaned down to press a kiss to your jaw. 

“Would you like me to try?” he chuckled against your skin, pulling back just enough for you to spot the smirk on his lips. His tone had taken on a huskier edge, one that always forced you to squeeze your thighs together. “The Gods will be on our side this time. There will be only one babe, I am sure.” 

Licking his lips, he kept his grip on your hair, and pulled your face towards his. You anticipated a kiss, but alas, he kept a few inches between your faces, your heavy breaths fanning over each other's lips. 

You tried to chase him for a kiss, but Maegor kept your head in place. “I hope you know the dangers of challenging a Targaryen man,” he teased. 

Oh, you did know. More than once had he proven that it was just not wise to challenge him. It was impossible for him to resist a good challenge, no matter how bold or brazen. Your late brother Aegon was the perfect example, and also the reason he and his dragon Quicksilver were slain by your uncle in the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye. 

Slinging your arms around his thick neck, you kept your eyes locked with his, a mischievous glint flickering in them. “I shall take my chances,” you replied, biting your bottom lip. 

That was the last bit that caused his resolve to crumble. Bowing his head forwards, he pressed his lips to yours fervently, void of any gentleness. Your hair was released, only for him to snake one arm around your waist and bring the other to your arse. Cupping it, it was easy for him to lift you up, holding your body to his in a cradle carry with your lips still connected. 

You pulled back from him to chuckle breathlessly. “We can’t… not now,” you laughed, bringing a hand to his bare chest as if you meant to stop him. “Our guests will soon arrive.”

But he was not having any of it. “Oh, is that so?” he taunted, slowly walking towards your marital bed, shrugging his shoulders when he came to a stop. “Let them, they can wait.”

You stared up at Maegor with wide eyes as he placed you down on the bed, one of your hands cupping your bump, while the other just rested on your chest, your full breasts hard and heavy. He stood at the side of the bed, and began to undo the laces in the front of his breeches. 

As much as you wanted to lock your gaze with his, your eyes always trailed down to where his fingers were fumbling with the laces, your breathing growing heavier and your mouth running dry. 

Maegor was the most handsome of all men, and his other skills were unparalleled. Even though his cock was the only one you had seen, you knew Maegor was very well endowed, and probably possessed one of the most beautiful cocks in Westeros.

Unable to wait any longer, you tugged the skirts of your nightgown up as much as your bump allowed, and shimmied your way out of your smallclothes. Your swollen belly was obvious, but you hadn’t thought of it as so obtrusive. But your husband didn’t seem to mind, if anything, he was even more determined and motivated to have his way with you.

Maegor eyed you just as hungrily, and his jaw set as he noticed the slight glistening of your womanhood as you spread your legs. You were eager and ready to take him. 

Stripping the last of his clothes off, Maegor joined you in bed, making himself at home between your parted legs. Leaning over you, careful not to put any of his weight on your bump, he planted kisses to the side of your neck, trailing up to your lips. His large frame completely covered your significantly smaller one, making you feel protected and safe as your fingers entangled into his silver strands, tugging on them gently and keeping his lips locked on yours. 

His cock was hard, pressing snugly against your soaked womanhood, sure to coat the underside of it and the sac of his stones in your arousal. You couldn’t help but to grind your hips against him, rutting your swollen folds against his hard member which prompted him to groan against your lips. 

“Be still, would you,” Maegor scolded, but his tone was void of any harshness. 

But you couldn’t. Not when your body craved to be filled by him so badly. And Maegor seemed to notice your despair. He sat back on his haunches, looking down at you. The pout on your lips had him smirking smugly. “You have teased me long enough,” you whimpered, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s what I deserve after this strenuous morning.”

Raising his brow, Maegor sighed – he was admitting his defeat. “I shall make it quick for you then.”

His hands roamed over your bump, the white silk allowing them to slide over it with ease. He then proceeded to lean to the side, fetching one of the pillows next to you and folding it in half. 

Maegor hooked one hand beneath your knee, and used that grip to lift your hips, slipping the pillow beneath them to slightly raise your body for him, and make your back arch in a way that was not uncomfortable. It caused your swollen breasts to spill from the low neckline of your nightgown, the white silk dampened and darkened by the droplets of milk that had oozed out of your hardened buds. 

“Let me take care of you, mama,” Maegor drawled, his dark blown eyes traveling over your frame. Despite most of your body still concealed by your nightgown, he couldn’t be any more attracted to and aroused by you than he was in that moment.  

Gripping the base of his cock, he used your arousal to tug on him once, twice, before aligning the tip with your throbbing entrance. He was completely focused and careful as he pushed inside, moving slow enough for you to feel every vein and ridge of his cock drag along your walls. 

“Gods be good,” you moaned, enjoying the feeling of being stretched out by him, bliss taking over your senses. 

Your husband remained upright, his hands on your knees as he started with a slow, deep grinding. Your smaller one found his and held onto him for stability and to feed your longing for his touch, your eyes never leaving his. You felt the familiar heat building in your belly quicker than usual, the coarse hair around his member grazing over your sensitive pearl every time he moved and fueling the pleasure you felt. 

“You truly were made for me,” he grunted, a large hand moving to splay over your bump, covering most of it. “The most beautiful woman in the realm, swollen with my seed and carrying my children.” With a blush covering your cheeks, you bit your bottom lip, stifling a wanton moan. 

Noticing the color on your cheeks, Maegor smirked, slightly increasing the pace of his hips, his cock hitting deep enough to drag over the spot that had you whining and whimpering. You were squeezing him so well, making it impossible for him to keep going for much longer – not that you had time to do so anyways. 

Your pearl throbbed with anticipation, and your cunt clenched and convulsed around his member, announcing your approaching peak and coaxing grunts and groans to escape his parted lips. 

You tipped your head back into the pillows, unraveling beneath him as you closed your eyes in bliss. 

“So good,” he groaned, reaching to rub your bump before trailing his hand up to your full breasts. “I shall fuck you full of my seed, and bed you until your womb runs dry.” You weren’t sure if it were his words, the thoughts accompanying them or the sensual rolling of his hips, but your brain went fuzzy with pleasure, clouding each thought to the point you couldn't think straight and answer him. 

His big hand tugged the neckline of your nightgown down to the point it ripped at the seam, freeing your breasts from their confines. It could have been a growl or a groan rumbling in his chest – either way it sounded threatening and dangerous, lured out by the sight of your leaking breasts. Clamping one of your darkened buds between his calloused fingers, he squeezed it to force some more droplets of milk out of it, coating his fingers in it.

Bringing them up to his lips, he sucked them clean with a groan, only for him to pay equal attention to your other breast not long after. It was not much, but already helped enough to relieve some of the pressure and ease the fullness. 

You bit your bottom lip and started up at him with half-lidded eyes, a teasing grin on your lips. “Want to get your fill, papa?” you asked, feigned innocence weaving itself through your tone. 

Maegor panted heavily, his eyes glued to where his fingers were milking you. “You little minx,” his husky voice drawled, interrupted by strained breaths. He was close. “Later.”

The coil in your belly tightened each time his body rutted against your pearl in combination with his fingers on your breasts, and it eventually snapped and allowed your peak to wash over your body with a loud cry. Maegor watched you mesmerized, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered around his cock with relief etched onto your features. 

He seized the opportunity, and bowed his bull-like body forwards, placing one hand next to your frame to support his weight as he increased the pace and intensity of his thrusts. Your cunt melted around his hard member, sucking him in with each snap of his hips.

You couldn't deny the slight aching that started to blossom between your legs, growing more apparent with the repercussions of your peak slowly subsiding, but you knew Maegor was racing for completion at this point, his breathing ragged and his jaw set. 

“When this babe is born…,” he rambled, panting in between the words. Strands of his blonde hair fell in front of his eyes, a sheen of sweat on his skin. “… I shall fuck another into you. I can not get enough of watching your body swell with my seed, making it clear to everyone that you are mine.”

“Y-Yes, Gods, please.” The flush on your cheeks grew hotter, matching the growing volume of your whimpers and moans. Suddenly, the thought of another babe growing inside of you didn’t seem too bad. 

It was with a final thrust of his hips that his body finally relented, his cock spending in a burst so strong Maegor stilled his movements. You felt him twitch and throb inside of you, spilling his seed and painting your walls as you milked him for every drop. 

The sight was divine. His muscular body crouched forwards slightly, blonde strands framing his chiseled features, beads of sweat highlighting his flexing muscles, and his jaw set tight enough you feared for his teeth. 

If you weren’t with his child already, you would have mounted him to make sure his seed would bear fruit. 

Every muscle in his body was tensed, until he eventually collapsed into the vacant spot right next to you, careful not to put any weight on your swollen belly. His flaccid cock slipped out of you in the process, causing you to pout at the sudden feeling of emptiness. 

But you were quickly distracted when you looked to the side, studying him carefully. The blissful smile on his lips sent heat straight through your veins again, reigniting the fire and longing for more. You traced your fingertips over his sharp cheekbones, while his hand had remained splayed over your bump in a protective manner. 

Moving to lie on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, mischievous thoughts filled your head, inspired the moment you glanced down at his thick cock. Teasing and arousing you was a weapon only Maegor possessed, and he wielded it so perfectly – intended or not. 

“Mh, our guests may have to wait a little longer,” you said, voice laced with desire. 

It was a bit troublesome for you to get up, but once you managed to do so, you moved to straddle your husband’s hips, his cock trapped between your soaked womanhood and his lower stomach.  

He watched you with an eyebrow raised, but made no move to stop you. You rutted your hips over his length, coating him in your mixed essences and coaxing him to full hardness again. 

Maegor propped himself up on his elbows, a groan leaving his lips, and brought his paws up to graze over your sides. He understood what you wanted, and was eager to give you just that. With unsurprising strength, he fisted the silk of your nightgown and tore it in half, exposing your whole body to him. 

You gasped, more because of the chill air hitting your hot skin than the shock of the sudden movements. 

Licking a flat stripe over the curve of your full breast before wrapping his lips around your hard bud, Maegor sucked on it a few times to swallow some of your milk. You moaned at the stimulation, tipping your head back as your cunt clenched around nothing. 

He pulled back with a string of saliva connecting his swollen lips and your skin, glancing up at you mischievously. And when he spoke, his voice was husky and strained, teasing you with a smug smirk on his lips. “I think they will understand.”

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @watercolorskyy @xxxkat3xxx @baedebnam @simonedk @heavenhatesme @valyrianglass

General Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @sirenangelroyal @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @docmartinis @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @nockerin @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @goldyfishsstuff @connorsui

[danytherelentless]

They Will Suffice

Jon Snow x fem!reader

summary: a pleasurable moment during your pregnancy with your husband

warnings: smut, illusions to sex, fingering, sweet talk, a little bit dirty, pregnancy, slight pregnancy kink (if you squint really, really hard)

The wind is howling and furious outside, it rattles the shutters of the windows and whistles through the gaps it manages to slither through the walls creating a chill in the air in spite of the warm pipes within the walls of the castle.

You lie in bed with your husband, a quiet and comforting moment between two lovers. Basking in the afterglow of love-making leaning back into his strong arms as they wrap around your front and caress you belly.

His bare knuckle grazes where your child kicks. A budum rhythm over and over again.

"It appears we have awoken them," you muse, looking up to see him. His handsome face is wrought with concentration, dark brows furrowed close.

"He," he corrects you.

You huff a laugh, "he? So sure are we?"

"Yes. I dream of our son in your arms. Of him playing in the Godswood with Ghost," he presses a kiss to your brow.

"Every man wishes for a son. But dreams will not make our child grow a cock if they do not already possess one," you warn. You can't help but feel a little nervous at his surety of a son. What would happen if you birthed a daughter instead?

"I would not be disappointed with a little daughter, my love. I just know that this..." he strokes the underside of your belly where there is another thump, "is our son."

You hum in acknowledgment, a small smile curling at your mouth.

"And what shall our son's name be?"

"Edric," his response is instant.

Your eyes soften, "for your father?"

"Hm. Little Ned," he is smiling now, a small, beautiful and oh so rare thing. It makes your heart swell and tears well up in your eyes.

"When we have a daughter you shall name her," he tells you, as if it is a certainty.

"And what if we shall only have sons? Or only this one child?"

"Then you can name them too. You're the one doing all the hard work," he tells you.

"I suppose you are right. Though you certainly take care of me," you respond with a teasing grin.

"I do now, do I?" he teases right back, one hand going further down to your .

"Mhm. I find myself quite satiated in your presence."

"Careful, I might become unbearable with all this flattery," his teeth graze at the side of your face. You sigh as you sink further back into his arms.

"We can't have that now, can we?"

His hand slips between your thighs, your knees parting some more to allow him better access.

"I find myself not fully satiated tonight, however," you continue, a stir in your lower belly, an urge to squeeze your thighs tightly together.

"Oh. We can't have that now, can we?"

His fingers slide between your folds, already slick once more. He had already cleaned you up after your previous bouts of love-making quite nicely, though is appears it was for nought as you would soon be a mess again.

"I'm not sure I have such energy as you," he admitted as he slid a curled finger into you, thumb circling your nub. A moan broke past your lips as he moves much to slowly.

"Well... your fingers will have to suffice," you let out another broken moan as he gathers your wetness and slides in a second finger.

"Hmm, so wet. So warm," his lips are pressed against the side of your face, teeth grazing the flesh as he whispers his sweet praises into your ear.

His practiced movements speed up, your knees part wider. His cock is hardened somewhat against your back, though not nearly at full mast.

"I can't believe I have you, so perfect, so tight, right in my arms," he speaks, lips dragging across your jaw as you throw your head back against his shoulder.

His fingers curl further, rubbing along that soft spot inside of you which had your thighs twitching and your eyes rolling back as your nails dig into his flesh.

"Right there," you moan, breathless, "please."

"Please what? What do you want?"

"I want to cum. Please make me come," you let out a louder moan.

His movements speed up, "come for me, wife. Finish for me."

You reach your peak, your third that night, fingers curling into the flesh of his thighs, a high, broken keening sound passing your lips, eyes squeezed tightly shut and mouth forming an 'o'.

"So pretty," he strokes your thighs and swollen belly, "so perfect."

You don't hear what he says next as you are lulled into a peaceful slumber, howls of the wind distant to your ears as his warmth envelopes you whole and drags you down to the depths of rest.

comments are greatly appreciated, don’t be a stranger :)

you can find me on Wattpad and AO3 by danytherelentless

let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list for any of my works (character specifications and smut or not)

[axelsagewrites]

robb stark x fem reader smut where robb talks the reader through it/praise kink

Robb Stark*Good Girl

Pairing: Robb x f!reader

A/N: The prompt didn’t say inexperienced reader but I thought it would work

Warnings: inexperienced smut, handjob, m! receiving oral, f! receiving oral, praise kink, a lot of praise kink smut 18+

Word Count: 2851

Masterlist Here

Things with Robb were amazing, perfect even. When you first got the news of your betrothal you were apprehensive to put it lightly. Why would you want to marry some stuck-up fancy lord? Then you saw his face.

Robb had been far sweeter than you could have hoped. While at first, he was also reluctant to the arrangement he soon warmed to your presence when your family went to Winterfell to spend the month with the Starks. By the end of the month, he was, as Theon liked to point out, absolutely whipped.

At the end of the month your parents broke the news; you would not be leaving with them. They had decided to have you fostered at Winterfell after seeing how much you enjoyed it. even though you struggled at first with the adjustment you soon grew to love every inch of the castle as well as your betrothed.

You often would sneak around the castle after bed with Robb, meeting up in abandoned chambers to talk or the kitchens to scavenge a midnight snack. During the day you snuck off to the godswood or during feasts to the stables. Your adventures were often joined by Jon and Theon, occasionally the younger Starklings tagging along, but the longer you were at Winterfell the more you dragged Robb off to hide in quiet corridors alone.

Girls at your home had gossiped about this sort of stuff. Kissing in corridors and learning how to take care of a sword as they put it. the way they spoke about it made it seem like either a game or a punishment but with Robb it was different. His kissing was tender and slow, his hands soft and gentle but the more you snuck off for make outs in the godswood the more his hands began to search. You didn’t want to stop him despite everything telling you that you should. Instead, all your body wanted was more.

You had also gotten bolder over the two years you had spent at Winterfell and had begun to sneak Robb into your chambers when the air was too cold for your godswood fun. “Hey,” you whispered as you creaked the door open, Robb slipping in quickly so you could close it, your back to him.

“Hi,” he said back, his voice low but a smile it. when you turned back to face him Robb stepped closer, closing the space between you, his hands resting on your hips. His lips were chapped against yours but soft and sweet none the less. Robb pulled back from the kiss, your lips instinctively chasing his and causing him to chuckle, “Did I tell you how pretty you are?”

“Everyday,” you said, a light blush coating your cheeks as you took his hand and led him over to sit on the bed.

Your mother would gasp if she saw you now, curled up in Robb Starks arms, your lips dancing with his. His lips had started slowing but had grown faster, hungrier, as his hands squeezed your hips. “Gods you’re amazing,” he said breathlessly between kisses.

Your hands tangled in his hair as your lips crashed on his again. You had both stripped off your cloaks and heavy layers. While you were still in your dress, Robb was left in just his trousers and undershirt allowing you to see his toned figure beneath the thin cloth and gods did he look good like this.

His lips moved from your lips to kiss your cheek then trail from your jaw, kissing your earlobe then down to your collarbones. You couldn’t help but giggle when he nipped at the sensitive skin or stop your moan when he began to kiss and suck on the sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. “I want you,” you moaned lightly before the words had even made sense in your head.

The words seemed to drive Robb into overdrive as his lips crashed back onto yours, his pace hungry and needy as he held your jaw in his hand. “Don’t tease me love,” he said, before kissing your jaw and nipping at your ear, “I wouldn’t be able to control myself,”

“Please,” you whined when you saw his hard bulge fighting against its trouser fabric. “I wanna feel you,” your said, your fingers grazing over the bulge.

Robb groaned lightly as he looked down at you, “You really are a gift from the gods, aren’t you?” he murmured as he rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip. “You gonna be good for me?” he asked. You were too mesmerised by him to respond but simply nodded your head instead. “Good girl,” he said as his fingers began to unlace his trousers.

Your eyes widened when his trousers loosened, and he sprung free. It was larger than you had expected and red around the tip. Robb couldn’t help but chuckle at your doe eyed expression. “We don’t have too, love,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“I wanna,” you said, your hand hesitantly moving towards it, “Can I…?” you said, your words trailing off as your cheeks flushed.

“You wanna touch it?” he asked lightly, and you nodded. Robb chuckled as he took your hand and guided it to hold him by his base.

Robb let go off your hand and you gave a couple soft strokes to his cock which was enough to make soft moans come from Robbs throat. You stopped for a moment to look at him, “Can you,” you began, stuttering out the words.

“Can I what princess?” he asked as he brushed the hair out of your face.

You swallowed hard before meeting his eyes, “Can you teach me? I wanna do it right I wanna-“

“Be a good girl?” Robb asked, cutting you off.

The words sent shivers down your spine and a hollow feeling grew in your stomach. “Yes,” you stammered out. “I wanna be good,”

“Okay love,” Robb said as he moved slightly up the bed to be sitting with his back against the headboard, “Well first things first. We’ve got to do something about that dress of yours,” he said as he began to pull his under shirt off and tossing it to the side.

You blushed at his words but stood from the bed, your hands working on the laces of your dress till it pooled round your ankles, leaving you in just your shift. The thin shift was not enough to stop the cool northern air from making you shiver or your nipples from perking, a sight that made Robb groan with lust.

“Come here love,” he instructed as he had you climb to sit on his thighs facing him, his cock standing proudly between you both. Robb brushed the hair out of your face, his touch gentle against your skin, “So perfect,” he mumbled as his hands moved down to graze your chest, his thumbs stroking over your perked nipples sending shivers in your skin, “Such a pretty girl,” he praised, his eyes roaming your figure.

Your skin flushed at his words, and you found yourself fidgeting as you waited for instructions. “Thank you,” you mumbled as Robb enjoyed his view.

He looked up with a slight smirk at your words. “Take it in your hand. Like before love,” he said. You took his thick shaft in your hand again, blushing as you did so, “That a girl,” Robb praised as he took your wrist, “Now just,” he said as he moved his hand to guide yours, soft groans falling from his lips, “That’s it,” he said as he let his head fall against the headboard.

His eyes were trained on your body, desperate to take in every inch of you, his intense gaze making your breath hitch. “A bit faster love,” he said, and you did your best to comply, but you could tell he was enjoying it.

“Robbie?” you said, distracting him from his bliss.

“Yes love?” he asked.

Even the thought of asking was making you shuffle with nerves. “You know that thing that Theon was talking about last week?”

“I really do not wanna be thinking about him right now love,” Robb laughed as he took your wrist to slow your strokes, “What was it?”

“That thing that um,” you said, your eyes averting, “that thing that some women do it just that well it sounded like it could be fun, and I was wondering,” you tried to stay but when you met his eyes again your words seemed to dry out when you saw that perfect smirk.

“C’mon you can tell me,” Robb said as he leaned forward, his lips grazing yours, “We can’t do it unless I know what it is,”

“The thing about pleasing a man with your mouth,” you managed to rush out, your eyes flickering down.

A deep chuckle came from Robb who moved to hold your chin, tilting your head up to kiss you softly. You whined when he pulled away, “You’re cute when you’re nervous,” you mumbled a thank you which only made him want you more, “You want to suck my cock? Is that it?” you nodded but it wasn’t enough, “Use your words love,”

“Yes I-I do,” you stuttered, “Please,”

Robb leaned in for another kiss, this one much briefer before he pulled away, “Shuffle down a bit,” Robb said as he helped you find and easier position on the bed, his cock still hard and now just an inch away from your face, your hand still around its base. “You sure about this?” he asked to which you quickly said yes making him laugh, “Okay love,” Robb said as he gently stroked your hair, “Kiss it,” he said, his voice lower than before.

You glanced at him for a moment before turning your attention back to his cock which looked desperate for your touch. You placed a soft kiss to its tip making Robb groan, “Again,” he said, and you began to leave a trail of soft kisses down his shaft before he added, “With tongue,” so you began to leave open mouth kisses up and down his shaft, giving the most attention to the tip since that’s what made the loudest moan from the Stark.

“Fuck you’re so good at this,” Robb groaned as your kisses turned to kitten licks up his shaft, your hand gripping his base to keep him in place, “So fucking good,” he praised as you licked around his tip. Deciding to be bolder you licked over his tip, your tongue swirling around it, “Fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking, “Just like that love,”

Robbs hand rested on the back of your head, stroking your hair lightly as your mouth worked his member. “Open your mouth for me,” he said, and you complied, your tongue still against his tip. Robb gently lowered your mouth down to take his tip in, “That’s it,” he groaned as your head slowly began to bob up and down, “You take me so well,” he moaned.

His moans and praises were making your confidence grow, your speed began to increase, and he moaned your praises. “I think I’m gonna-fuck,” he mumbled as he began to softly grip on your hair, “Fuck I don’t think I can- “he said when you suddenly felt a salty taste in your mouth that you swallowed without thinking.

When Robb pulled your head up his eyes were screwed shut as he almost seemed to pant for air. You shuffled to sit beside him while he seemed to come back to life, “You are incredible,” Robb panted before his lips crashed onto yours into a hungry kiss.

His hands were squeezing and gripping at your hips while yours tangled into his hair. Robb began to leave sloppy kisses down your neck to your collarbones, his hand moving to squeeze your thigh. Your breath hitched when you felt his hand moving between your legs, “It’s okay,” Robb said as his list moved to your sweet spot on your neck making you moan, “relax love I’ve got you. spread your legs a little,”

“Okay,” you stuttered out as you allowed his hand more room. You gasped when you felt his finger run up your folds.

“Such a good girl,” he praised before kissing your ear lobe, his finger trailing up your aching cunt, “So wet for me. You gonna let me take care of you princess?” you tried to say yes but it was cut off by moans when his finger pressed into your bundle of nerves.

Robb took his time, almost painfully so, before you felt his fingertips pushing into your entrance. He started off slow at first with one finger, curling it inside of you and making a hollow feeling appear in your stomach.

“May I?” he asked as his fingers trailed the neckline of your shift. You nodded and Robb pushed the fabric down to reveal your chest and perked nipples to him. Without warning Robb took one into his mouth, his tongue running over the sensitive bud while his fingers curled to new spots. You didn’t try stop the soft moans falling from your lips, “Such pretty noises you’re making,” Robb praised as he released your nipple and began to shuffle down the bed.

“What are you doing?” you asked as you sat up on your elbows to look at the boy who wore a devious smirk.

“Just trust me princess, lay back,” you did as you were told but you sharply breathed in when you felt his kisses on your thighs. Robb kissed up and down each thigh before you felt his breath fanning over your wet cunt, “Robbie,” you whined at the feeling.

“Yes love?” he asked, smirk evident in his voice.

“Please,” you whined, your voice slightly raising as his fingers curled slowly inside you, “I need you please,”

“You’re so cute when you beg,” he said before leaning in and placing a wet kiss to your clit sending shock waves up your body, “so fuckable too,” he said before licking up your cunt, moaning at the juices.

Your hands tangled in his hair as Robb began to lick greedy strips up your cunt. his tongue began to work circles around your clit, sucking on it lightly and making a pit grow in your stomach all while his fingers curled inside of you, desperate to find your sweet spot. You whined when his lips fell away, “You wanna be a good girl?” he asked, mouth wet with your juices.

“Yes,” you said but it was more of a desperate whine, “Please let me be good,”

“Play with your nipples,” he said, and you began to stutter, “Don’t make me ask twice to love. C’mon you’ve been so good for me, that’s it,” he praised when he saw your fingers start to rub your sensitive buds, “such a good girl,” he said before finally reconnecting his lips.

You could feel your body start to tighten and your thighs close around Robbs head, but he did not protest and instead sped up his tongue, adding another finger into the mix. His fingers stretched you out perfectly and began to curl closer to your sweet spot till Robb finally found it. a loud moan ripped through your body as Robb began to curl his fingers slowly and relentlessly into the same spot over and over till your body felt like it was going to implode. Your fingers still worked your hardened nipples while Robb began to lightly suck on your clit.

When his teeth began to graze your bud, a warm feeling washed over your body as the knot in your stomach began to implode, “Fuck Robbie,” you whined, your arm moving to clamp over your mouth to stop the loud noises pouring out of it, your teeth biting into the flesh to stop the noises from your orgasm ripping through you.

When Robb came up for air, he was breathless, but it did not stop his lips crashing down onto yours, “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, “you did so well,”

“Thank you,” you panted as your eyes grew heavy.

Robb shuffled to lay next to you before pulling you into his arms to curl into his side. He kissed the top of your head, “Was that, okay?” he asked, his voice more hesitant than before.

“It was perfect,” you said still dazed from the events.

Robb laughed as he helped you adjust your shift to return your modesty despite his face still being wet with your juices. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he said, kissing your forehead gently.

“Suddenly I cannot wait for our wedding night,” you mumbled against his skin as your head nuzzled into his chest, sleep threatening to spill over you.

Robb chuckled at your words, “Me neither my love,” he said as he pulled you in tighter, “but for now you need your rest,”

“Maybe a little bit,” you mumbled half asleep. The last thing you heard was Robbs laugh while he stroked your hair gently. Yes, your wedding night would be perfect, you thought.

tag list: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @fan-goddess @valeskafics

@theyluvgh0st @bella-713 @aerangi

[xfancyuu]

~ a different kind of spicy, cheongyang chilli pepper vibe. [rhaenyra targaryen] 18+ SMUT

happy pride! i hope my lgbt+ people are enjoying themselves this month, i know i am! alt title could be if you wanna know how i can show you right now, anyways stan ateez, stream the world ep 2 and fuck your gf. reader is afab with she/her pronouns. my requests are OPEN please send away! i'd assume this takes place somewhere during rhaenyra's marriage to laenor. [1,555 words]

i am in NO way responsible in your fanfic consumption MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! i don't even know where to begin with the tags on this fic, lesbian sex, dom/sub dynamic, overstimulation, talks about wanting children, dirty talk, daemon reference and i think(?) it's positive. lmk if i missed any.

Spending your nights with Rhaenyra had given you solace you never knew you needed. From the feeling of her soft skin pressing against yours while the two of you slept, from the comforting presence she had provided you continuously. You knew your love for each other could never be shared publicly and it often times made you sad but when the two of you were together alone it made up for all the secrecy.

Nobody had bothered to question why you shared Rhaenyra's bed more than her own husband, but you were her lady in waiting, you were the person she was closest to and if Laenor was happy nobody could say anything against the arrangement.

It had been an unusually warm spring night, the sun had trouble setting at a decent time and you had almost stripped down to your undergarments in the garden. It was just too hot, you didn't know if being in Rhaenyra's presence made you feral or the heat was truly getting to you. So much so you had stripped yourself of all clothing while Rhaenyra waited in bed for you.

She, too, had chosen to sleep naked, claiming the heat was also too much to bare — you knew the truth, though. Rhaenyra had a dragon, the weather wasn't the cause of her nakedness.

Your night had been mostly uneventful, the two of you had laid in bed, Rhaenyra reading to you while your head was in her lap, the closeness you felt to her was much different than anything else you'd ever felt, the two of you often read in this position though you'd never felt the softness of her thighs in such a position before. You didn't know what possessed you to kiss the tops of her thighs but she never complained, her breathing getting heavier as you continued to do so, though you had promptly stopped when she had closed the book.

"We need to sleep, Y/N." Rhaenyra spoke, playing with your hair after placing the book on the bedside table.

"I think you may be right, Nyra." Came your response, your head moving from her lap and choosing to place a kiss on her lips, the kiss remained chase with Rhaenyra's hands placing themselves on your hips as to make sure you didn't lose balance.

She was the first one to pull away, and while it took you a second to compose yourself, you laid on the left side of the bed, choosing to forgo covering yourself, the heat was far too unbearable for you even with the moon blessing you with its presence.

Despite the heat it didn't stop you from cudding into Helaena, your head was placed on her chest and while she too complained about the heat, she didn't complain about your current position.

Your dream had been so vivid, choosing to show you images of yourself and Rhaenyra in various positions and committing various acts you doubt her real life counterpart would ever allow you to put her in.

Perhaps you could bring yourself to your peak rather quickly, the fear of waking Rhaenyra was within your mind but the way your fingers were playing with your bud felt too good, you wanted to prolong it. As long as you didn't stick your fingers within yourself, Rhaenyra had claimed your cunt as her own, not allowing even yourself to place your own fingers in there. She was possessive over you, wanting to give you as much pleasure as you could take and even more. You often left her room on a morning feeling as though you were on cloud nine though having to ignore the overstimulation, she did make it hard for you.

You were being loud, moaning, moving around the bed, trying to bed as quiet as you possibly could yet that didn't help you, Rhaenyra had woke up, not happy in the slightest. Disturbing her sleep was one thing but touching yourself had truly flipped something within her, she was on top of you within seconds, removing your hand away — almost instantly killing your impending orgasm.

"Who gave you permission to touch yourself?" It was rhetorical, Rhaneyra very rarely allowed you to answer back to her, "I swore you promised you were mine, body and soul, yet you think you have the right to touch your body?"

You didn't respond as Nyra had opened your legs further to gain access to your already wet cunt. You could tell she wasn't happy. She was the one who would do this to you, the one to turn you on and make sure you were satisfied.

"You've done this to yourself?" She asked, her fingers entering you without much resistance, the wetness you'd caused leaking out of yourself while her fingers continued to enter you.

"Only thought about you." You responded, legs opening wider, feeling her so deep within you almost had you reaching for your bud once more but stopped when you saw the look on Rhaenyra's face.

"Is that meant to make me feel better?" She asked, increasing the speed of her fingers,

"I only ever think about you" you reiterate, though the words had come out breathy, the feeling of Rhaenyra's fingers within you had started to build up your previously killed orgasm. Rhaenyra knew you were sensitive but she hadn't realised you were this sensitive, being able to cum in few seconds after she'd entered you.

"That's it baby, cum all over your queen's fingers, be a loyal subject, give me what I want." Her words had tipped you over the edge, the orgasm you so badly wanted had been given to you though Rhaenyra hadn't stopped her movements while your thighs shook and tried to close on her hand though with her own leg being between them it was almost impossible.

"Nyra, please." Your words were cut off by Rhaenyra kissing you, it wasn't soft nor chaste, it was with hunger and purpose, brutal even. She hadn't stopped, though her lips found their way to your neck, leaving marks as she went along.

"You want another one? So insatiable, you'd think i've left you untouched for months." Despite your begging she had chosen to interpret you wrong. Rhaenyra got like this sometimes, and most times it left you unable to walk or to fulfil your duties properly. "You can give me another one, can't you?"

"Want to, so badly." Telling Rhaenyra no would have been fruitless — you also enjoyed when she was like this, giving you everything you wanted and then more.

"Tell me what you want."

"Want you to stay inside me so badly, wish you had a cock so you could put a baby in me." You were babbling now, though it was true, you wanted to be filled with Rhaenya's heirs, to give her a life that was expected of her.

"We could make that happen, have you fuck Daemon so he can give you Targaryen babies."

"No, no, no, no, no," you repeated like a mantra as she continued her brutal pace within you, "only want you, I'm only yours."

Rhaenyra had taken your whining as a sign you needed more, her thumb had begun to play with your enlarged bud and it had made you cry out, moving your hips to meet her hand easier.

The two of you continued, Rhaenyra whispering filthy things in your ear, about how you were her perfect girl, about how she'd get Daemon to fuck you next, about how you'd be perfect with your and her child and it was enough to make you to come undone a second time. The intensity of this one hitting you harder than the last.

"I can't do another one Nyra." You choked out, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her down to kiss you once more, this was sweeter than the last, portraying nothing but love and tenderness rather than the lust filled ones you'd shared before.

She pulled away, both from inside you and away from your kiss, making you pout. "I think I want to see you pregnant, you've seen me pregnant with three children yet here you are without a child."

"Jace, Luc and Joffrey are my children too." You insisted, "But if you want me to birth a child myself, you have to find the man and I won't fuck anyone without your permission, you can even tell me what to do." You joked, your own husband had not so tragically passed moons into your marriage. An old disgusting man who only wanted you for your body and the children you could have provided him with, ironically he lived as he died, fucking you from behind — you wouldn't admit it to anyone but the sight of him on the floor was hilarious. Despite this you'd played the mournful wife, crying at the correct things, wearing all black. Though nothing could stop you from entering Rhaenyra's chamber and truly letting the one you love have you.

"We should seek a man worthy to give us a child." You knew who Rhaenyra wanted, you yourself wouldn't be too opposed to him either, especially if Rhaenyra was there. "But right now, I'm not done with you just yet, you won't be leaving this bed for at least three days." your exhausted state couldn't wait, she made you tingle in all the right ways and you'd happily provide her with as many orgasms as you could provide, even if it destroyed you.

i hope you enjoyed this! i've never wrote nyra before and i'm obviously team green but i love her and i believe in gay rights/wrongs and she fits the bill. sorry if this is bad it's the first time i've written sapphic smut.

[ramsayxme]

Chapter One / Chapter Two / AO3 Link

Authors Note: TW- forced sex, forced oral sex, slight violence, Ramsay things, abandonment, etc etc.

Chapter Three: Your Reward

You finished your bath alone. A servant came in to add wood to the fire, allowing you to have promised warmth for the night. The water grew cold as you soaked, hoping and praying to the Gods that the water would cleanse you of his touch. When the water was finally as cold as the air, you pulled yourself out and slumped in front of the fire, pulling your knees to your chest. You hadn't been given another nightgown. You wrapped a pelt around your shivering and damp body as you allowed yourself to air dry in front of the fire.

Once you dried, you padded naked to the door. You knocked aggressively. "Can I get some clothes?" You yelled. A man was on the other side, keeping watch of your door, and he hollered back to you in a gruff voice. "Lord Ramsay has not delivered any clothes for his prisoner." You huffed, slightly annoyed. You walked over to your bed and laid down, covering yourself with the blankets. It was nearly impossible to tell what time of day it was here, your tiny window only ever showed overcast snowy skies.

You closed your eyes, exhausted from the last 48 hours, and wanted to attempt to get some sleep while Ramsay was likely on a hunt or doing whatever it was that evil Lord's did during the day. You closed your eyes, and drifted to sleep.

******************************

You stirred, waking up. Your room was nearly pitch dark, the fire completely dead. The only light you could focus on was the lit candles on your small table. You jumped, realizing that Ramsay was sitting at the chair next to your table, staring at you as you woke up. He had a wine cup in front of him, no doubt full to the brim. He had no expression on his face as he stared at you. You closed your eyes again, hoping that he wasn't really there and you were imagining things.

"I brought you the clothes you asked for." Ramsay's voice echoed in your room, breaking the silence. You groaned, your body was aching. You opened your eyes to look at Ramsay. "Thank you...M'lord." You whispered as you sat up in bed, making sure the blankets stayed over your naked skin. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" He asked you. You gingerly rubbed your face, softly allowing your brain to turn on again. "No, Rams- My Lord. I don't know." He chuckled. "You slept all day and all night. You poor, tired thing." He suddenly stood up, the chair scooting loudly.

You believed him. You had been so exhausted, you could imagine yourself sleeping that long. "I'm sorry, My Lord, I was very tired." You watched him intently as he walked over to your bed, sitting on the foot of it. "It's quite alright. I forgive you." He smiled, his eyes strangely calm. You didn't understand his dynamic, one minute he was angry at you and the next, loving and soft. He leaned forward towards you, and whispered, "I missed you yesterday. I came by last night but I saw how deeply you were sleeping. I didn't want to..." his eyes rolled around their sockets, searching for the right words. "...disturb you."

You forced a gentle smile. "Well, thank you for that. I needed the rest. That was... very kind of you." Ramsay chuckled, placing his hand on top of your leg over the blankets. "Kindness is what I am known for, My Lady." You weren't sure what to do, so you just softly smiled at him. He stood up and walked to the window, staring outside. "You deserve a reward, you see." He began.

"Last night after I visited and then left, the servant who was in charge of locking the door seemed to have forgotten his duties. Your door went unlocked all night long as you slept!" He exclaimed. Your heart sank. You could've escaped. You mentally scolded yourself for not being more vigilant. "But! Don't you worry, I took care of him. He won't be guarding your door any longer... come and see!" He beckoned you with his hand. You slid off the bed, dragging the blankets on the floor behind you, still covering your body.

You reached the window and Ramsay draped his arm over your shoulders, pressing his cheek against yours. "Look, there." He pointed outside. Your eyes followed the imaginary line until you saw it. Hanging on a wooden platform, there was the bloody and fully exposed muscular system of what was once a man. You gasped and looked away, burying your face into Ramsay's shoulder. He chuckled. "Aww, you are so innocent. That was the man that failed to lock the door, you see? I could've done that to you when you tried to run away. But, I showed you mercy." He cooed into your ear, his free hand playing with your hair.

"Are you ready for your reward?" He asked, using his index finger to tilt your chin up to look at him. "Are you going to flay me?" You asked, lower lip trembling. Ramsay smiled empathetically and cradled your face with his hand. "No of course not. Your reward isn't being flayed, silly girl. Your reward is pleasure." You stiffened, unsure of what he was alluding to. "Go, lay on the bed." He pointed towards your bed. You reluctantly made your way and laid down, burrowing under the covers. Ramsay began unlacing his shirt as he approached you. You prepared yourself to be used once again by him, and a knot formed in your stomach.

You closed your eyes, listening to Ramsay's leather fall to the floor along with his trousers and the clatter of his knives. You felt the weight on the bed as he climbed on top of you. You opened your eyes, expecting his face to be in front of you, but it wasn't. You saw him lifting the covers at the foot of the bed, and crawling head first in. "Let me please you." You heard him say under the blankets. Your body stiffened as you felt his shoulders between your ankles, and then up to your thighs.

He pushed your knees up, resting your thighs on his shoulders. You clamped your legs together, but Ramsay softly spread them. You felt your stomach churn, but this time, it wasn't with anxiety. You felt your core warm up as he began kissing your inner thighs softly, gently sucking as his lips grazed your skin. You held your breath as his hands traveled up, squeezing your breast softly, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. You whined, your body at war with itself. Ramsay was coaxing you gently with kisses, begging you to relax as he kissed as high as he could on your thighs.

You exhaled a moan as his lips met your wet cunt, kissing and sucking gently. He hummed with delight as he felt you were already wet for him. He gripped your thighs with his hands as he pulled your legs apart, allowing him full access to your most sensitive area. "Ramsay I-" You tried to say, but were cut off by your own gasping as he swirled his tongue around your clit. He was very good at this, which was making your body go into a pleasure induced swim even if you didn't want it to.

He continued to kiss your folds, his tongue snaking inside you as his nose pressed against you perfectly. You allowed your eyes to close as you sank deeper into his trance. You reached under the blankets and started swirling your fingers in his curls, gently gripping at his hair. He groaned as you did so, causing vibrations to gently tickle you as he licked. Your grip on his hair tightened as he licked faster and more passionately. "Doesn't that feel good?" He groaned, his lips grazing your clit. You moaned in response because unfortunately, it did.

You had never been eaten out before, but Ramsay definitely knew what he was doing. Your body was shivering under his touch, a flick of the tongue was enough to send a rolling wave of lust over you. You wanted him badly. You tugged at his hair and lifted the covers. "Ramsay, I want-" He reached up and covered your mouth with his hand. You whined into his hand as he silenced you, his other hand made its way down to your core.

"I know what you want." He whispered while pushing two of his fingers deep inside you. You lifted your hips, begging for more. He slowly slid his fingers in and out of you, the slow pace driving you crazy. Your hips began grinding on his fingers as he kept kissing your clit. You felt yourself climbing towards orgasm, and Ramsay could tell. He read it on your face. He pulled himself up, and his fingers slid out of you completely. Ramsay lie down next to you on the bed and he put one of his toned arms behind his head.

He grinned at you, his face slick with your arousal as he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked you down to his waist. You immediately took his hard cock in your mouth. "That's right, good girl." He groaned as you began allowing his cock to fill your throat. You bobbed your head slowly up and down on his length, you couldn't quite fit all of it in your throat without gagging. Ramsay seemed to enjoy the gagging, though. You felt his hands on the back of your head as he applied pressure, pushing your face down on his cock.

You groaned, gagging on him. He exhaled loudly as you gagged around him, your throat contracting on his twitching cock. "Ahh, that feels so good..." His voice was raspy and low. You wanted him inside you. At this moment, you didn't care that he had flayed a man earlier today just for fun. You didn't care that he would probably hurt you within the next hour. You didn't care that he was Ramsay Bolton.

You pushed yourself up, Ramsay staring at you wide eyed. You quickly straddled him, his cock soaking wet with your spit. He chuckled as he saw the desperation in your eyes. "You want me badly, don't you?" He reached out, squeezing your hips. You nodded, whining as you rocked back and forth on his lap, his cock nudging at your entrance. "Take me then. After all, this is your reward."

Ramsay kept kneading at your hips and thighs as you guided his cock inside you. Your body was sent into a euphoric state as he filled you, moaning loudly as your walls stretched to accommodate him. Ramsay was watching you intently as you filled with pleasure, his eyes wide and tracking your face as you slid up and down. Sweat began forming on his forehead and on you as well. Your legs were already so sore from everything you had been through and he noticed you struggling to keep a decent pace.

Ramsay smiled, flipping you over so he was on top. "I'll take care of you, you just enjoy your reward..." he began thrusting into you. Your eyes rolled back as you allowed him to fuck you at his own pace. You didn't realize how badly you wanted him until now. You dug your fingernails into his back as he thrusted, groaning while you dug them in deep. You felt the warmth of your orgasm approaching as he continued to keep the pace. You started to tip over the edge, spilling over and flooding with pleasure. Ramsay didn't slow as he fucked you through your orgasm.

You were panting, aching, and trembling as Ramsay pulled out of you and threw you to the floor by your hair. You slammed onto the ground hard and looked up at him, your body and mind spinning from being so full of pleasure to suddenly thrown on the floor. Ramsay stepped forward, his cock dripping from being inside you. He grabbed your hair and lifted you to your knees, forcing his cock into your mouth. You didn't have the strength or energy to fight back as he fucked your face.

You barely had caught your breath before his cock was in your throat and you were gagging on him again. He groaned words to you, but you were in such a haze that you didn't understand them. He let go of your hair and you fell to the floor, leaving his cock unattended. He growled angrily as he lifted you up and threw you on the bed face first. He slammed his hand down, smacking your ass cheek so hard you let out a shriek. "I said bend over!" He barked. You must've not heard him the first time, as you positioned yourself on the edge of the bed.

His hands grabbed your hips and he fucked you from behind, slamming your thighs into the side of the mattress. He kept smacking your ass, leaving you whining like a pathetic whore. You could tell Ramsay was close to finishing as he got more erratic with his thrusts. He flipped you over to your back, and he straddled your stomach. One of his hands immediately went around your throat while his other hand began stroking his cock which was twitching and ready to release.

He began choking you as he jerked himself off, he was completely sweaty and his face was very serious. You couldn't help but swoon at the sight in front of you. You almost felt lucky to see him like this. Suddenly, the hand choking you pulled back and landed swiftly across your cheek, sending a ringing through your ears. He smacked you across the face. You cried out and Ramsay came, his warm cum hitting you in the face where he slapped you and sliding down to pool in your neck. He held a fist full of your hair from the top of your head as he finished cumming.

His breathing was heavy as he stood up, leaving you on the bed covered in his seed. He smiled at you as he threw you a cloth off the floor. "Keep doing good things and I will reward you more often." He grinned as he pulled his clothes back on. You laid there, wiping his cum from your face and neck. "You do look lovely like this..." He chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Now, be a good girl and clean up this room. I'll be back for you tomorrow." Ramsay swiftly left the room without another word.

You finished wiping yourself off and sat in silence, allowing your body and mind to process what just happened. On one hand, you were humiliated and hated him for using 'your reward' as a chance to just get what he wanted... but on the other hand, you were pleased to be the lady who he used for his pleasure. You were confused and ashamed as you splashed the cold water from your last bath on your face, washing yourself up. You argued with yourself as part of you wished he would come back for more.

Chapter Four

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt 10.

(Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader x Cersei Lannister. SMUT: Domme Cersei, light knife play, fingering, bondage, light degradation, overstimulation, oral <male receiving>)

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The day had finally come for you to return South and you were glad of it.

There was nothing worse, in your opinion, than being trapped in a clearly troubled place where there is nothing you can do to help.

Before you left, Theon Greyjoy stopped you. "Apologies, my lady. But, Lady Stark would like to have a word before you leave."

Catelyn Stark had holed herself up in main tower at her child's sick bed, never leaving as far as you knew.

You agreed, following the young man up the stairs and finding Lady Stark sitting in a worn wooden chair, hands clasped at her knees. She looked more ghost than woman.

"My Lady?" You breathed carefully, as if approaching a baby deer. "You sent for me?"

"Lady Clegane" Catelyn almost jumped when she saw you, as if she had forgotten summoning you at all, "Thank you Theon, you may go."

Left alone with Catelyn, you let your eyes wander the the little bundle in the middle of the bed. "How is he?"

"No change." Catelyn sighed, "but the Maesters say he is out of danger now"

She turned to you with sunken, sullen eyes. "I've asked you here to ask a favor."

"Anything, my lady" you nodded, feeling great pity for the woman before you.

"This will be my daughters' first trip south, away from home." Catelyn breathed, "Their father will be with them, and he is a good man, he is but...."

Fresh tears began to well up in her eyes and she wiped them away firmly.

"They've never been away from their mother before and I need...I am asking you to watch out for them, as if they were your daughters. Please, do this for me?"

"Oh of course, Lady Stark." You were relieved the assignment was so straight forward, "I will do everything I can."

You weren't expecting the sudden onslaught of physical contact as Lady Stark wrapped her arms around your neck.

"Oh thank you!" She sobbed, "thank you, thank you."

You nodded and waited for her to let go before clearing your throat. "Forgive me, Lady Stark. But I must go before they leave without me."

"Of course" she pulled away, face once again wet with tears, "go, go. You mustn't keep them waiting"

You gripped her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze, "my prayers will be with you, Lady Stark"

---------

"What did she want?" Sandor grumbled, annoyed you had left him holding your mare's reigns to wait for you.

"She asked me to keep an eye on her girls." You sighed, "that poor woman, she looked closer to the grave than her son."

"It doesn't feel right" Sandor mounted Stranger as you pulled the mare up beside him. "Give me a good, clean death. I wouldn't want to get stuck between."

"Ugh" you pulled a face, "I don't want to think of you dying. There's been enough unpleasantness these last few weeks. I'm just glad to be going home."

Sandor didn't say anything, not wanting to point out that all that likely waited for you in Kings Landing were bitter nobles and nasty rumors about the upstart handmaiden who had slept her way into the Queen's Court.

He knew there was very little he could do to shield you from that. His speciality was in the feild and the fighting pits, with his sword or his fists. The gentry was an entirely different beast.

Part of him wanted to ship you off to the Westerlands to Clegane Keep. It was a generous bit of land gifted to his grandfather by the Lannisters, and had plenty of forest and farms to draw a profit from if you actually bothered to maintain it.

But the queen would never allow it, and a part of himself wouldn't either. Away from him meant closer to something else. Brigands, lustful lords, and worst of all, Gregor.

Sandor knew that at some point, some point uncomfortably soon, you would have to formally meet your new brother by law. Gregor was more beast than man, never sticking around court too long lest he find some stuck up noble to decapitate or unlucky lady to rape.

How would Gregor react to his younger brother marrying before he did? Probably producing a Clegane heir before he did? Would he see it as a challenge to his seat?

Sandor prayed he didn't.

But he didn't bring this up, not to you. Instead he rode in comfortable silence beside you, keeping an eye out for Prince Joffrey, who was probably being held hostage by his lioness mother trying to woo Lady Sansa.

That poor kid, he thought, that family was going to eat her alive.

___________

At dusk, you had come to an inn and thanked the gods for it. Who knew just a few weeks at Winterfell would soften your legs so much.

"Ow," you hissed as the chaffed flesh of your thighs touched. "Dammit"

"Sore?" Sandor smirked, his thighs of iron practically impervious to riding sores. "Perhaps you need something between them to make you feel better"

"You offering?" You challenged him with a teasing smile.

"Run along" the not-knight pulled down your hood and kissed the top of your head, "you queen wants you."

Cersei smiled as you approached the royal carriage. "Lady Clegane, come sit with us" she reached out to you and you took her hand carefully as you climbed into the carriage.

Inside was Lady Sansa and Princess Marcella who had been chatting like eager birds.

"You remember Lady Sansa?"

"Of course" you nodded to the spry 12 year old who nodded back politely. "How is the travel treating you so far?"

"I've never been so far from home before." Sansa confessed, "it's thrilling"

"I hadn't traveled much before this either" you agreed. "But this Northern countryside is just heavenly. So quiet."

"You must be exhausted, my darling" Cersei fussed "all that time on that beast, you must join me in the carriage at least once"

"I will try to tear myself away, your grace" you promised almost teasing, relaxing as the queen linked her arm in yours.

"You, guard." The queen swiftly called to random servant, "find the Hound and tell him Lady Clegane will be spending the evening with the Queen and not to worry." She glanced at you, eyes tracking your form like a wild cat, "She will be very well taken care of"

"At once, your grace" the servant scurried away and you smiled shyly.

"The king will not mind?" You whispered, unsure how much could be said in front of the younger girls.

"His Grace is busy orientating his new Hand" Cersei assured you, "trust me, he won't even notice. Now-" she raised her voice, indicating they no longer needed to talk in circles around Sansa and Marcella.

"I sent a raven to my dressmaker while we were in Winterfell and bless him, he was able to get a response back to me before we left. If we take your measurements and sent them to Kings Landing tonight, he should have some gowns ready for you upon our arrival. Any alterations needed can be done when we get there."

"Wow" you were awestruck at the efficiency. If left to your own devices you wouldn't have known where to begin. "I can not thank you enough, your grace."

"Nonsense" Cersei moved to leave the carriage, trailing you and the girls behind her like ducklings. "I will not have you looking any less than your best when you're received. Marcella, why don't you run along and find your Septa, I'm sure you have some lessons to go over. And Sansa, isn't you sister around here somewhere?"

The girls dutifully fled as Cersei's arm went from your elbow to your waist, "and you, Lady Clegane" she breathed, "will take me up to my room"

The innkeep had set aside the two largest rooms in the inn for the King and Queen. Cersei's room contained a large 4 poster bed, a writing desk, full length mirror edged in carved oak, and a fireplace.

"Have you ever had your measurements taken?"

"No" you swallowed, knowing damn well that wasn't why she'd stolen you away for the evening.

"Stand up straight" Cersei pulled a measuring tape from her bags. "Arms at your sides, there's a lamb"

The Queen's breath warmed the back of your neck as she measured your legs, your waist and bust, and your arms finger tip to finger tip.

For a moment you thought you had fooled yourself. She hadn't called you up here for anything more than measurements, that was all.

Your skin prickled as the leather measuring tape brushed your throat suddenly, unsure when it had even gotten there. The strap pressed against your windpipe lightly, not enough to restrict you but enough to threaten.

"Put your arms behind your back" Cersei purred into your ear, nipping gently at the lobe until you obeyed. You felt the thin leather wrap around your right wrist, then your left before they were pulled together tightly.

"I want to tell you a story" Cersei's hands fell to your hips, guiding you to the full length mirror. Her chin rested on your shoulder thoughtfully, running her hands up and down your body.

"When I was a little girl, I had a doll. Well, actually, I had a great many dolls. But one doll in particular was my favorite. I thought she was the most beautiful doll in the world."

As the story began, you watched in amazement as her elegant hands cupped your breasts and rubbed tender circles on your hips. It was like they moved on their own, Cersei fully engrossed in her own story and letting her hands grope and feel as they pleased.

"I took that doll with me everywhere I went. I brushed her hair, made sure all her dresses were clean and beautiful. When her paint chipped, I made my father's craftsmen repaint her as if nothing had happened"

Her hands found your clothes nipples now, rubbing her thumbs over them until the hardened and ached.

"Then, one day, my father informed me that I had grown to old for dolls. He made me throw her away with all her beautiful dressed, and I cried and protested but in the end the doll was gone." Cersei's hands came back to your shoulders, hugging you to her in a surprisingly tender embrace. She kissed down your next and back up again until she reached the shell of your ear.

"But now, my doll has come back to me, hasn't she?"

"I- yes, my queen" you agreed, not fully understanding but playing along.

"Hmmm" she cooed and looked you up and down in the mirror, pulling at your riding gown critically. "I don't like this dress on my doll."

You gasped as the skirt of your dress was sliced down the back. "Your Grace!"

"Shhh sh sh." Cersei hushed you, fingering the small blade she kept hidden in her sleeves, flashing the blade at you in the light. "Don't flinch now, I don't want to knick you"

You tried to keep as still as can be as the sound of blade cutting through wool filled the room and more and more of your body was exposed to the cool air. You jumped when the knife ripped open your bodice, earning you a sharp slap on the tit that stung wonderfully.

"Now look" Cersei forced you to look back into the mirror, hands once again traveling up and down your now exposed flesh. "Isn't that so much better?"

"Y-Yes, your grace" you closed your eyes to the slight but Cersei bit into your shoulder.

"Keep looking" she hissed, cupping your bare breast in both her hands and making you watch as she pinched and pulled your sensitive nipples.

Once a hot flush had filled your face and chest, Cersei pushed your legs apart with a growl. "Let me see" she taunted, slipping a hand down your back, affectionately toying with your bound wrists before you saw her clever hand appear between your legs in the mirror.

She stroked your folds softly, reveling in how quickly you got wet for her.

"When I do this" she stared into your eyes through the mirror, "I want you watching. I want you to see how beautiful you look getting fucked. If you stop watching, or if you close your eyes, I will punish you. Are we clear?"

"Yes, my queen" you were trembling by now, desperate for her to touch you and oddly intrigued by your own reflection.

The queens graceful fingers wasted no time dipping between your wet folds, gathering your wetness before slipping up to rub your clit. It was an usual experience, being forced to stand, forcing your knees not to buckle as she pinched the nub between two fingers and rubbed in circles.

"Eyes open" Cersei cracked her free hand against your ass and your eyes shot open instantly.

Once your knees were buckling, Cersei slipped three fingers inside of you. The intrusion almost made you double over, if she hadn't caught you by the hair and kept you standing.

"Remember to keep quiet this time sweetling," Cersei chuckled into your ear as you bit your lip to keep the moans from spilling out. "That's right, good girl."

The sting from your scalp meeting the relentless pleasure between your legs had you struggling to keep from falling off the edge, but you didn't. You wanted to keep going for as long as you could.

"My sweet girl, my little doll. I know your close" Cersei pressed, curling her fingers up into your g-spot. "You know, everyone had has the pleasure of watching that sweet little face of yours cum. Me, Jaime, your precious Hound."

She taunted you as you struggled against your bindings, the restraint becoming all too much.

"Everyone but you. Have you any idea how pretty you look, when your eyes roll back, sweating, flushed? It's fucking addictive."

The queen knew you were fighting it off, desperate to keep this going, to be the center of her frantic and cruelly pleasurable attentions.

"Stubborn little slut, aren't you?" she growled. "Fine then, you can't hold out forever"

The withdrawal of her hands felt like punishment and you sealed your mouth to muffle an involuntary sob that turned into a whine.

"Don't worry, doll." The queen dragged the chair from the writing desk to the mirror, pushing you down into it with a menacing grin

"You're not done until I say you're done"

--------------

It was the hour of the Rat when Sandor finally decided to look for you.

Neither you nor the queen had been to dinner, and you hadn't been seen for hours.

"I have an idea" Robert had grumbled, three sheets to the wind.

Approaching the highest floor of the inn, Sandor paused moment. It sounded like something had fallen with a dull thud.

Stripped of plate, he tried to be a quiet as possible as he drew closer. He didn't know why he had come, it's not like he didnt know what was going on behind that door.

Part of it, he presumed, tracked back to that night in camp when your cried of agony and pleasure had been the symphony of the night.

A siren's song.

He could hear that song again, but it was muffled now.

"Have you learned your lesson, sweetling?"

He strained to hear the response and sucked in a breath when the sound of flesh hitting flesh drew forth a drawn out moan.

"Too fucked out to answer? That's fine" The queen purred, "I wonder how your husband would feel seeing you like this? Blissed out, cunt swollen and drenched, ass bruised. Would he be disappointed by his little slut of a wife?"

The description alone has Sandor growing hard as his mind wandered.

"No, don't look so sad. I don't think so" Cersei's voice became something resembling encouraging. "I bet he'd find you just as beautiful as I do. Should we ask him? He's right outside."

Sandor's stomach dropped as the bedroom door squealed open and he stumbled back. Queen Cersei was draped only in a floor length silk robe, and from this angle it covered very little.

"Looking for your wife?"

The Hound's mouth went dry and silent as the queen chuckled at his embarrassment.

"Come along, she's right this way."

The queen had never really spoken to him before, let alone touched him, so it was strange when she grabbed his large hand with her lithe one and pulled him into the bedroom, closing the door firmly.

You were probably more beautiful now than he had ever seen you.

Laid out on the bed like a girl from the gods. Your arms stretched above your head and held in place by a leather strap exposed the whole of your body for his eyes to feast on. Your nipples were puffy and lightly bruised, shining with saliva to match the swollen lips of your cunt. Your eyes were screwed shut as if trying to block out everything in the world, trying to bring yourself back to earth, and your hair was fanned out in the pillows behind you like a halo.

"What do you think Clegane?" The queen prompted you. "Do you think she's had enough?"

He blinked hesitant, entirely unsure how to interact with the royal in this situation.

"Don't be shy" Cersei moved across the room, pouring herself a cup of wine then offering his some. He accepted.

She sat next to you on the bed, removing the bindings at your wrists and offering you a sip from her wine cup. "Darling? Your knight is here for you. He got worried, isn't that sweet?"

Your eyes settled on him over the rim of the cup and before he could argue you were pulling him by the hands towards the bed.

"Darling" you cooed into his ear. "Sweet husband. My love, please hold me" you begged him in a voice so sweet it would have killed him to deny you.

He swept you up carefully, melting as your curled your face into his chest sighing.

"One moment now" Cersei pulled a loose frock from a chest. "You can't very well walk her through the inn like that."

Carefully she helped you slip into the dress. It was as if you were drunk, only there was no smell of wine or beer on you. You stumbled occasionally, leaning on either your husband or your lover to catch yourself.

"Goodnight sweetling" Cersei killed your mouth firmly, then your forehead. "Go on now"

Clegane moved to pick you up again but as he bent down he froze. Cersei pressed her soft lips against his gently, almost chastely if he hadn't smelt the distinct scent of sex on her.

"Be good to her" she leaned into his ear, hand pressed against his shoulder, "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

By now you were able to walk, and the bliss filled fog that had clouded your mind was clearing.

"We should go" you urged them, pulling your shell shocked husband gently. "Before the king catches us"

"She's right" Cersei agreed, "a woman is one thing, but if Robert thinks I've pulled you into this that's all our heads"

Rushing out into the night, you gasped as Sandor pressed you against a wall when you turned the corner. His kiss was insistent and fierce, hands cupping your jaw firmly.

"Darling." You sighed into his mouth, "did you miss me that much?"

He breathed heavily, trying to figure out what to say. "Is it always like that?"

You laughed and shook your head "I think she was just in a really good mood"

"I may have to learn a thing or two from our queen" Sandor growled, "You looked like an angel laid out like that."

His hips pressed against you hard, grinding slightly and you smiled tiredly. "Darling, I dont think I have it in me to go again"

He grumbled in disappointment but moved to free you until your hands gripped his hips.

"But, my throat feels just fine"

[fandom-puff]

cersei with 40 from the smut prompt list 🙏🙏🙏

Omg I haven’t written Cersei in so long, but I’ve just finished reading A Feast For Crows and she’s such an icon ugh

Warnings: choking, power imbalance (Cersei is a queen, reader is a handmaiden), dominant/submissive dynamics, fem!reader, inspired by Cersei’s relationship w Taena Merryweather

Prompt highlighted in bold

You were hers, hers alone to fuck and use, no matter how many knights and squires salivated over your young, pretty body. Your skin was smooth against the Queen’s hands, and your hair wrapped ever so prettily around her fingers. But what was most beautiful of all was the way your eyelids fluttered, your eyelashes flashing shadows over your cheeks. The way your eyes dissolved from a doe-eyed stare to one of pure pleasure as they rolled into the back of your head.

And the sounds you made were delicious.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” the queen cooed above you, allowing a short intake of breath before her gentle hand resumed its addictive squeeze around your throat. “You look so very pretty with my hand around your throat,”

You let out a sharp gasp, making to yank your Queen’s hand away, but stopping when her free hand slipped between your thighs, her long fingers dipping into your wetness as her body- still clothed in contrast to your nakedness- pressed firmly against yours, pinning you down to her luxurious silk sheets. Your hand, stopped in its tracks, fell limply to your side as you tipped your head back, baring your throat more to your Queen as she smirked down at you. She loosened her grip again, her smirk growing as you gasped and spluttered and whimpered, your hips bucking into her probing hand. “If only you could see yourself, my dear,” she told you, leaning to whisper in your ear, her golden hair tickling your bare, tightened nipples. “That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers,”

You whimpered, nodding your head as she resumed her squeezing on your throat, and she almost laughed at the way her little toy’s cunt squeezed in tandem to her hand. Letting out a broken cry, you began to claw at the bedsheets, not daring to paw at your royal mistress, torn between the building oblivion between your legs, and the sweet oxygen you needed to live. Cersei laughed, kissing your forehead. “You may finish, sweetheart, I know you were waiting for permission,” she told you, pressing her thumb to your engorged clit as your orgasm began to crash over you. Simultaneously to your release, she released your throat, watching with wildfire in her eyes as you gasped for air, your overworked body convulsing on her fingers as you cried and thanked your queen, your words coming out a garbled mess as she shushed you softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as she pulled you tight to her breast.

[asa-do-your-thing]

"My Sweet"

18+ MINORS DNI Robb Stark x F!OC Part of my fanfiction Dreams WC: 2.3k Warnings // Tags: blowjob, doggystyle sex, kinda fluffy, eating out / fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex

Alea eacta est, you've all voted and decided you wanted a smutty Robb scene, so here you go:

special thanks to @valeskafics and @aemonddtargaryen for your enthusiasm! <3

The courtyard of Winterfell was absent of people, except for a handful of guards near the entrance. Lucie's heart raced when she saw Robb step out from the keep, his blue eyes beaming with what seemed like secret joy. His cloak fluttered in the wind, as if it had been placed there to enhance his wavy auburn hair.

He cut an impressive figure, yet he remained remarkably amiable - he put forth all his effort to win her affections and Lucie had to acknowledge that he was indeed making progress.

Robb stepped forward and held out his hand towards Lucie. "Welcome my love," he said warmly, intertwining their fingers together when she accepted his offer. "Today we will celebrate your name day some place away from anyone who might disturb us."

"Is that so?" Lucie said with a small grin. "Where are you planning on taking me? Bear Island?"

Rolling his eyes, he guided her towards the godswood, the snow hitting her ruddy face like angry shards of ice. The weather really had taken a turn for the worse in the last few weeks.

"Not Bear Island, my Lady," he said with mock seriousness. "But I have something special planned for us."

Lucie felt her heart swell with excitement as Robb took her hand and led her through the godswood. They walked through the trees and underbrush, past the heart tree, surrounded by tall trunks of fir, pine, and birch. The snow still clung to the branches like frosting on a cake - a stunningly beautiful sight despite the chill in the air. As they walked further into the wood, Lucie noted a few streams of light peeking through the branches in front of them, casting shadows over their faces and onto the floor below.

Robb paused in front of a clearing where there stood an old wooden structure hidden away from view. He smiled at Lucie before looking up towards the window of what she could now see was an old greenhouse. "This is where we shall celebrate your name day," he said grandly as he opened up a small door towards one side.

Lucie stepped inside cautiously, blinking the moist heat away after it had hit her, surveying her surroundings: plants grew everywhere and exquisite blooms filled every corner of this warm paradise; beautiful colours that somehow seemed to be glowing even brighter against all the greenery surrounding them. But this wasn't just the usual glass garden; Lucie could tell that it had been specially prepared for her - there were ribbons woven into vines, candles lit along the pathways and a table set for two, laden with sweet treats and wine that looked like it had been carefully selected for the occasion.

Robb gestured to the table and pulled out a chair for her after taking off his coat and his gloves. "Please, my Lady, take a seat," he said with a smile as he sat across from her. "I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of arranging all of this."

Lucie laughed softly and shook her head, following suit. "No, not at all," she said, taking in the sight of the feast before her. "It's beautiful. And I'm so grateful for all of this. You've truly outdone yourself."

Robb smiled at the praise, but his eyes never left her face. Lucie couldn't help but feel a shiver run through her when she saw the intensity of his gaze. She knew that look well - it was the same look he had given her the last time they had been alone together. Gods, would that happen every time they were to be alone now?

The awkward silence that had fallen over them only added to her anticipation, as Robb poured them each a glass of wine. "I have a question for you," he said, his voice low, his fingers playing around.

Lucie felt her stomach drop as she waited for what he might say next. "What is it?"

Robb leaned forward, his eyes alive with mischief. "Have you ever made love on a table, Lucie?" he asked.

Lucie sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening with surprise. She knew that Robb had a lusty streak to him - it was something that he had shown her before - but she hadn't expected him to be so... brazen. She tried to ignore the heat that flooded her face at the thought of what he was suggesting.

"I...I can't say that I have," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "You've been my first and then we were in the... bath."

Robb's face was still so close to hers, and she could feel the heat emanating from him. "Well then," he said, as he rose from his chair and walked around to her side of the table. "Let's fix that, shall we?"

Lucie could hardly breathe as Robb grabbed her hand and savagely pulled her towards him. In a whirlwind of passion, she felt herself being pulled closer to him. His hands fumbled with the plates and goblets on the table, shoving them aside until they eventually tumbled down to the ground.

"Robb!" Lucie gasped in shock, trying to break free from his grip even as her body ached for more. Suddenly Robb swept her up and placed her onto the table, yanking up her skirts and planting hot, hungry kisses onto her trembling thighs. The warmth of his lips sent shivers through every inch of her skin, even more so as he gently opened up her folds, placing the gentlest of kisses on her pearl.

"You're mine, my pretty girl...," he mumbled, the low rumble of his voice and the touch of his strong fingers on her little, sensitive bud made her gasp and moan with pleasure.

"Oh Robb!" she felt herself whisper, tangling her fingers in his hair and closing her eyes as he pleasured her. Suddenly, she felt herself losing control, her hands started to shake, her legs quiver. She bit her lip, hard, to muffle the cry as she felt herself unraveling. Last time, everything was so much slower, so much... different, it had taken her ages but now...

"Someone's excited," Robb whispered as he stood up again, giving her a slow kiss. "I want you to come around my cock. So, sweetling... you'll have to learn to be patient." With that, he moved back down again, gently tracing his finger over her cunny, grinning as she mewled, moaned, begged for him to glide it into her.

"You make me so happy," he murmured between kisses, his eyes still full of desire and want. His fingers moved inside her, curling and rotating until Lucie's breath was ragged with desire, unforgiving in their pace.

The intensity of the pleasure was almost unbearable, yet Robb kept her dangling on the edge, providing her with pleasure, but never enough to push her over. And soon, she found herself on the brink of pleasure and pain, her body writhing in ecstasy, yet denying itself the ultimate release.

Robb finally pulled away, leaving her shaking and sobbing with an ache that couldn't be filled, the sensation of being at the edge of pleasure and pain an unbearable agony. Lucie had never experienced anything like it before, and yet it was as if Robb had known exactly how to push her to her limits, how to control her pleasure and when to pull away.

Still trembling from the overwhelming pleasure, Lucie looked up into Robb's eyes and was met with awe and admiration. He was gazing at her as if she were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Slowly, he helped her sit up and cupped her face in his hands, giving her a sly smirk before kissing her sweetly.

"Luce, you can't expect me to do everything," he murmured against her lips. "Let me see what you're capable of." With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he guided her down onto the floor on her knees. "It's time for you to take charge."

Lucie's heart skipped a beat at his words, feeling a surge of excitement and nervousness wash over her. She had never been in control before, always being submissive to Robb's desires. But now, with him giving her permission to take charge, she couldn't resist the opportunity.

"Okay," she breathed out shakily as she positioned herself before him, nervously unlacing his breeches and pulling them down, helping his take them off completely. Her heart raced as she saw his hard member in front of her face and his hungry look as she looked up. She bit her lip nervously and gently guided it to her mouth.

"That's it," Robb encouraged her, reaching down to softly caress her hair. "Use your tongue."

Lucie followed his advice and began using her tongue on the tip of his cock. She felt it twitch against her tongue, and the knowledge that she was making him feel this way caused her own body to heat up immensely.

Robb groaned and gently, yet firmly held onto her braids. "Fuck, you're doing this so well, I..."

Trying to suppress a smile, Lucie gently slid him into her mouth, trying her hardest to breath and to take him in fully. Even though she'd have loved for him to have taken him right there on the table, this also had a certain... allure.

Her small hand gripped his hip, and she slowly began to bob her head up and down, listening to the noises he made. After a couple of minutes, she felt his him stiffening and he held her head down, gently thrusting his hips while she took him in fully. She couldn't believe it herself, but she quickly pulled back from him, wiping away the small strand of spit that was on her chin.

Robb opened his eyes in suprise and grinned, motioning to the table. "Fuck, Lucie, you little minx... Get up on the table. All fours."

Lucie followed his instructions, crawling up onto the table and spreading her arms and legs so she was leaning over the edge, her small round ass sticking up in the air. She gasped as she felt him spread her ass cheeks and grab them tightly, so tightly that she was sure he'd leave marks on them.

"Ahn, Robb... I... Please..."

"Such a good girl, aren't you? So wet for me, my sweetling, so desperate for my cock," he whispered huskily into her ear before nipping at it playfully.

Lucie took a deep breath and reached back to grasp Robb's throbbing erection in one hand while using the other to guide it towards her wet opening. She could feel its heat against the sensitive skin between her legs and couldn't resist rubbing herself against it teasingly.

Robb groaned loudly at the sensation, his fingers tightening around Lucie's hips, urging her to continue. She did, positioning herself hesitantly and letting him push in his big, throbbing member, making her squirm and moan.

Gently, he pulled out and thrust himself back in, rocking back and forth, pulling out slowly and then pushing back in as she let out a loud cry of pleasure, his cock filling her up in a way she had never experienced before. Taking a deep breath, she rocked back onto him, allowing him to push even deeper inside her, the sensation sending waves of pleasure throughout her body.

"My, my, Lucie," Robb groaned softly, his hands on her hips moving in a circular motion, his thrusts becoming more and more powerful. "You are such a good girl for me..."

Lucie could feel her pleasure rising again as she let out small moans of delight and pleasure, even more so as Robb started to finger her clit. The pressure inside her was almost unbearable at that point, and as Robb continued to pleasure her, she was overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, shuddering hard as she felt herself tightening around his cock.

"Ah! That's it, fuck... there you go my sweet," Robb's grip on her hips became tighter and he thrust himself deeper into her, a low moan escaping his lips as he felt her tighten even more around him.

"I'm... I... Robb..." Lucie whispered, her voice sounding hoarse as she worked towards her release.

"That's it, my sweetling, come for me, let go..."

With these words pushing her over the edge, Lucie let out a loud cry of pleasure as she fell apart on the table underneath him, her orgasm shaking her small body. Her fingers clenched around the tablecloth with such force, her knuckles tuned white.

Robb groaned loudly as he followed after her, groaning out her name and emptying himself inside her as he found his own pleasure in her tight embrace.

As he pulled out of her, Lucie gasped in surprise, feeling slightly weak from her orgasm. Robb caught her as her legs gave out beneath her, holding her close to him before laying her gently onto the table.

Smiling, he reached over to grab a cloth and wiped her down gently before taking his time brushing away the sweat from her neck and back. He then turned his attention to her hair, untangling the knots in her braids and fixing them carefully until they were once again styled in their original formation.

"No one's ever going to notice anything," he whispered into her ear.

Lucie, slowly getting back to her senses grinned and pulled down her dress once again and glances over the smashed cakes and puddles of wine on the floor. "No, how could they. Let's just say Grey Wind caused this," she said with a giggle.

"You're right. We'll say he got jealous of the attention you were getting."

They laughed as Robb helped her off the table. "Direwolves are known for they love of sweet treats."

[siravalondulac]

that silhouette | j. snow x fem!oc

summary: and then she was here and jon knew - he would be safe in her arms. always.

warnings: smut, p in v, woman on top, bottom jon snow

Silken drapes swayed softly from the canopy above him. The open balcony doors let in a cold breeze that chilled him to the bones. Rays of light from the crescent moon offered him a meagre look at his surroundings.

Jon didn't know whose bed he was lying in. Nor did he know whose room he was in.

The mattress dipped beside him, and before he knew it, she entered his view.

“Elle.”

Her braid fell over her shoulder, the brown almost black in the darkness. The blue of her eyes seemed to glow before him, making his heart beat faster. She smiled.

“Hush, my love.” She lowered her face towards his. “We do not want to wake the Others, do we?”

As his chest rose it touched hers. Only for a moment, and with layers of clothing between them, but still.

Her left hand came up to his face, her fingers lightly ghosting along his jaw, before laying down on his cheek.

Jon’s breath hitched, and then she closed the distance between their lips.

She was cold and soft and gentle, slow and controlling and wonderful. He would never let himself forget the taste of her lips, how they moved against his, the way she slowly coaxed his mouth open with her tongue. He obeyed, of course. She could do whatever she wanted with him, and he would let her.

Sometime during this, Elle had straddled his lap. He only realised after she had started grinding herself against him, burying both of her hands in his hair to get a better grip. She swallowed his moans, never once detaching herself from his lips.

Jon's hands clutched the blanket beneath him. He was getting hard, and uncomfortably quickly at that. His hips started bucking upwards, meeting Elle's halfway.

She moved her mouth away from his, allowing him to catch his breath, if only for a moment. Because soon afterwards, she started sucking on a spot right over his throat that made him let out a moan.

Elle smiled against his skin.

“You are allowed to touch me as well, my love. It would be a shame if you did not.”

His hands soon found their way underneath her shirt, gently running up and down her sides, making her shiver. And somehow, that reaction made him proud.

Her mouth left his skin as she quickly discarded her shirt and then helped him get out of his. Their pants followed.

She sat bare above him, and Jon could do little else but stare. Stare at her beautiful body, her small breasts, her strong legs.

He raised his hand and let it run down the underside of one of her breasts. Her breath hitched, and something in her smile changed. Not for the worse, thank the gods. No, it became a tad softer, more intimate - a smile shared between lovers.

As if in response, Elle moved her hips, and he wanted to pass out on the spot. Her centre rubbed over the underside of his cock, her wetness making it all the more pleasurable.

She lowered her mouth back on his, quieting his moans as he gripped her hips with both hands. He didn't even know what he wanted to do, stop her or encourage her to keep on moving, please keep on moving, never stop moving.

Her left hand travelled down his body, her nails raking over his stomach and drawing dangerously close to his dick. She smiled against his mouth at the increased movement of his hips.

“Please”, he begged quietly. “I need you.”

“Whatever you want, my love.”

Her hand encircled his dick, pumping once, twice before she raised her hips above it.

Jon held his breath.

The moment his tip was enveloped by her walls he almost came. She was so soft and warm and wrapped around him so perfectly. But he forced himself to hold back. He needed to enjoy this while it lasted.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she sank down on him, her mouth never once leaving his.

How did he come to be so lucky? Never once in his life had anyone ever spared him a second look and now he was in the arms of the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon, being treated like he was worth more than all the gold in the kingdom.

He finally bottomed out inside of her. Elle pressed their foreheads together, apparently needing to catch her breath as much as he did.

They fit together so perfectly. His dick sat snugly between her walls and her chest pressed against his so closely, he could feel her beating heart.

One of her hands found his, still gripping her hips tightly, and interlaced his fingers with hers. She pulled both of them upwards and laid them gently onto the pillow beside Jon's head. So gently, never letting go, as if it was the only anchor that kept her in this world.

Elle moved her face away from his and opened her eyes. He had never been able to fully nail down what shade they were, appearing intense like ice one night and deep like the ocean the next. But now, with the way they glowed through the darkness, neither seemed like an apt way to describe them.

Then, she started moving.

Jon breathed in deeply in surprise, his mouth dropping open. It took everything in him not to moan loud enough to wake the entire Keep.

Her hips moved around in circles, slowly at first, then gradually increasing their speed. Her walls clenched around his cock, making him whimper and buck his hips upwards. She smiled, and started moving properly, her hand never once letting go of his.

He didn't know when or how it happened, but Elle's hair had come loose from her braid. It now fell in gentle curls just below her shoulders.

A crown would suit her well, he thought. One made of the finest of golds, inlaid with rubies the colour of blood. And her hair would be decorated with blue flowers the shape of stars, like the ones he had seen in Winterfell's glass gardens.

She bounced faster and faster on top of his cock, the slapping resounding throughout the room. His moans had turned into soft whimpers long ago. And yet, throughout all this, her eyes had never left his.

Jon was close, so close. He could tell Elle was too, the way her breathing had quickened just like his, the way her walls started spasming around his dick.

He knew he would never leave her. They belonged together, like sun and moon, like wolf and lion, like ice and fire. As long as he was with her, nothing would happen to him.

Just a bit more, he was standing right at the edge. Everything inside of him felt so good. The sweat and tears would all be worth it. He only needed one last push, then he would come. And once he did he would make Elle his-

Jon awoke with a jolt.

A dream. It had all been a dream.

Thankfully, he tried telling himself. He had not broken his vows. Even if he, technically, hadn't taken them yet.

His clothing was drenched in sweat and his dick was so painfully hard. He wanted - needed - to relieve himself, but even thinking about that brought his mind back to his dream. Back to Elle and how she fit so wonderfully-

No! He would not think about her, especially not in that way. He was to be a brother of the Night's Watch, and she was his friend. Maybe. Hopefully.

Jon looked around the room, studying his friends’ faces, wondering if he had made any sounds in his sleep that would have disturbed them in their sleep. But no one seemed to be awake.

He took in a deep breath and fell backwards onto his pillow again.

(The bed in his dream had been softer.)

He turned around and pressed his hips into the mattress, pleading for his hard-on to go away quickly.

(Much like how his dick had gotten hard so quickly as soon as he had seen her in his dream.)

His uncle had told him he would regret joining the Watch at his age, before he had experienced any of what made a man. Jon had wanted to laugh at him back then. But he didn't want to laugh now.

Why did his life have to be so difficult?

note: if you are intrigued by this one-shot and elle, might i direct you to the story this is inspired by: meet me in the dark, kiss me in the moonlight?

[bucknastysbabe]

it's still me, sorry.

ancient rome with viserys III (he just has that twink senator build, I am telling ya)

YES TWINKY SELF IMPORTANT VIZZY III YOUR BRAIN MAKES MY GO SPLOOSH, also I took a while bc 1. Work 2. I get wayyyy too invested into research! So I hope you enjoy xoxoxoxxo

AU Bingo - Ancient Rome - Viserys III

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Imperial Rome setting, Viserys is an angry lil asshole, too much background building, aphrodisiacs, arranged marriage, pnv!sex, enemies to lovers, hate sex, they’re both bottoms they’ll figure it out later, background Jorah and Illyrio, dany living her best life!, orgy time, I hope that was a good offering to Cupid

A/N: Tumblr is full of smart people but I still marked stuff that might need a translation or explanation:)

Viserys Targaryen. The third. Bred well from a long line of Emperors. The dynasty had ended when his mad father was struck down by the Praetorian* guard meant to protect the man. He was a mere senator now, the Baratheon family forcing him into submission. Damnatio Memoriae* for Aerys and his eldest son Rhaegar.

Everyone knew you could flip a coin to decide if a Targaryen would be mad or not. Viserys, although smart and a respected senator, definitely leant towards the unwanted side of the sestertius*. Regardless, the man had enough allies to secure his position in aedileship* and keep the family estate. His little sister had been married off to some obscenely rich warlord king outside of Roman lines, further padding the man’s pockets.

He walked around like an inflated peacock with his purple striped toga, dreaming of revenge and retaking the grand palace. Not married, still young, and quite mean from all accounts. Rumors flew that he was the passive cinaedus* of his longtime Gaulish slave. But you had your eyes on the fool regardless of who said what.

Recently arrived from the ever growing Hispania Baetica*, your father, a powerful proconsul* had sent you with a retainer to find a husband. Your aunt was married to Rhaegar Targaryen, and there was a promise for your hand to Viserys.

There was a catch. Viserys was not made aware of this pact. All of the details ands plans were burnt up during the violent overthrow of mad Aerys. Greek fire everywhere from the accounts. Your sister and her babes had perished from the Lion of Rome’s horrid beast of a soldier.

Elia was gone now, you reminded yourself. Oberyn kept her memory alive much too much but you grinned and bared it. He accompanied you with his lover and only two of his many bastards. Viserys was to be hosting you all in his grand manse upon the Esquiline Hill*. He knew the power of your family and sought to gain more status.

A plethora of slaves tended to your baggage and personal goods. A fat man with a thick accent, Thracian* of sorts, welcomed you all with an ecstatic smile. “Good evening, I know you all must be weary from your travels, our busy Senator will be home late tonight and plans to sup in the morning. Please call me Illyrio, I am the steward here.”

He outstretched a jiggly arm and beckoned you all, “Come, come, dinner awaits.” Oberyn sniffed and sauntered in, viper eyes darting around suspiciously. He had become quite bitter and distrustful after dear Elia’s death. Rhaegar, a wonderful general, had found some Briton barbarian’s daughter while putting down an uprising and squirreled her away. Much to the anger of the Novantae*.

Robert Baratheon also took offense to the affair, having eyes for the same girl. Add on Aery’s madness and rising tensions against the imperial family. Well. That’s what led to now. It’s bad when the Roman army has to enter Rome. Slimy Lion of Lannister, Tywin, a once trusted Consul* and general settled the fighting quite quick. His son, a Praetorian guard, struck down the Mad Emperor.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, weary from all the travel. Dinner and chatting was a blur, Oberyn interrogating Illyrio up quite intensely about Viserys. You retired early to a sumptuous room, dreaming of frolicking in the paintings until slumber met you at last.

In the morning you had two girls attend your bathing, dressing, and other attending. You felt quite beautiful in your immaculate yellow stola, embroidered with gold. Your headband and jewelry was also gold and citrine. They smudged your eyes with kohl, painted your lips a darker color with berries. All to hopefully ensnare.

Padding to the triclinium* you readied yourself. Being a proconsul’s daughter, you knew how to behave. Hispania Baetica was extremely romanized, it wasn’t like you came from Judaea* or Asia Minor*. Your family was mostly seated, Oberyn and Ellaria looked tired. They may have treated themselves to the pleasure of Rome last night.

Illyrio beside a big man in armor and the distinct silver haired of a Targaryen graced your vision. Viserys was quite handsome, lengthy waves, strong features, and long limbs. No warrior like Rhaegar but self assured in his own right. You gave obeisance and sat down. Viserys intense lilac eyes bored into you, pretty lips curling up in pleasure.

He hummed, “Martells. You have been good to the Targaryens for many a moon. I hope the trip was fair, nice to see you Oberyn. I hope Doran is doing well.” The senator’s smile was stiff lipped and frigid.

Oberyn snorted, “The place smells of pig shit and is overcrowded. But a fine city I suppose. The streets of pleasure are wondrous. How is the usurper doing?”

An awkward hush enveloped the room. Viserys’ eye seemed to twitch. His pallid cheeks reddened, “The fat oaf is fine. The Lion does his dealings after the Arryn man passed.” Oberyn hissed, “Detestable fucker.”

You cleared your throat and gestured to Illyrio, softly stating, “I’d love to reminisce on the injustice of our past but we did not travel to Roma for nothing, Senator.” Viserys seemed a relax a smidgeon, eyes narrowing at Illyrio’s wide frame. He drawled, “Was there something not to my knowledge? As the leader of my family this could be treason.”

The big man placed a hand on his sword.

Illyrio laughed it off and boomed, “No, this is all good tidings. A proposal lost in the fire.”

“Go ahead, Mopatis.”

You nervously popped some grapes into your mouth, eyeing the silver haired man’s heady gaze. He was entranced— for what gain you did not know. Illyrio opened the scroll and read of the marriage pact hastily made after the downfall. You would marry and join Viserys’ household.

The Senator remained quiet, the guard muttering something along the lines of, “That’s a first.” Viserys finally hummed, “What will I receive if I am to marry your girl? Gold, allies, men? I will become Emperor again dear Martells. You burn with the same injustices!” A vein on his forehead twitched.

Oberyn bristled, “You will receive a handsome sum and my gorgeous niece. Have patience, little Targaryen, lest the people might think you’re madder than your father,” he sharply grinned, “Excuse me, the emperor before Robert. Damnatio memoriae is a bitch, hm?”

Viserys barked, “Quiet your tongue, red viper! I accept the girl, shall pay the dowry, but I need allegiance. My sister awaits with her warlord husband, powerful screamers on horseback.”

Oberyn settled back down with a shit-eating grin, placing his sandals on the table, throwing an arm around Ellaria. You nodded and added, “All good things come with time, Aedile Targaryen. We shall plan, and I will do anything in my power to asssist.”

He was quaking with anger, long and thin fingers almost shredding the purple edging of his toga. Illyrio hummed, “Very well, we shall have the wedding, small, and pay the dowry. Then you may return to Hispania.”

Oberyn stated, “My daughter Obara stays as her personal guard, then we shall leave in the morn.” Viserys glared at the strong woman, lips thinning in annoyance. You glanced down at your hands, quite unsure what to do with an unstable temperament.

You’d find a way, always had. Nothing cunt couldn’t fix. Unless the Senator didn’t prefer that. But that could be arranged too.

After the wedding, you felt alone and bored. Viserys had held intercourse with you once, a banal affair. Strange for a Roman, a Targaryen one at that. Obara and Jorah as you learned, were mainly your company out and about. Viserys spent most of his time on the Capitoline Hill*. Planning events and city works, whatever Aedile’s did.

One day you’d had enough. You decided to snoop around Visery’s personal quarters, he’d be in hearings all day. Illyrio turned a blind eye with a small smile. Coming to a bronzed desk you found a half-unrolled paper. Wonderfully decorated with Pan and his nymphs.

Fingering the scroll open your eyebrows raised. It was an invitation. Tomorrow night. To a secret party with masks only. It was likely to be an orgy once you placed the masks, Pan’s* turgid cock, and the syrupy invitation. Your fool husband wasn’t going to even let you know.

“Illyrio!,” you hollered.

Heavy footsteps and breathing came closer and closer. Mopatis wiped the sweat from his brow. He panted, “My lady?” Padding over to the large man you shoved the invitation toward pudgy hands.

“Was my dear husband planning on inviting me?”

He stared at you with a strange expression, mouth twitching. You held his gaze before he broke. “No. He was to go alone. Felt stifled recently.”

You snarled, snatching the invitation back, Mopatis now leaning on a doorway. You murmured, “Say Illyrio, dear steward, could you perhaps get me into this sordid soirée?” His fleshy face erupted into a smile.

“I have friends in the lowest and highest of places, I’m sure we could arrange your arrival. A surprise for your husband. I’ll have to send one of the girls to the mask maker.” Patting a shoulder you mused, “Hmm, I cannot wait to see the look on the asshole’s face.”

Jorah snorted from afar.

You gained entrance into a vast complex of gardens and smokey rooms, smelling of herbs. Petals littered the ground at every turn. You fixed your mask and stola, quite lost. You’d heard of these debauchery laden gatherings high up in the echelons of Rome.

It wasn’t like that in your household, definitely in Oberyn’s with all the boys and women he could fuck until dawn. A man with a deep voice sidled next to you, offering a goblet of wine, “Here sweet one, this brew will make Cupid himself bless you.” You took it and asked, “Where is the main gathering?”

“Follow me nymphet,” he hummed.

You downed the wine, unsure if that was a horrid idea or not. But Jorah was waiting on the outskirts in case you may need help. Citizens of Roma were fucking and kissing all over as you drew near the sounds of wailing and drums. The mysterious man hummed, “This is where the show is, where you find your lovers for the night.”

He disappeared as fast as he had met you. Eyes scanning through the fog you spotted silvery hair. Viserys was sprawled with some ladies, idly watching the erotic show on the dais. Sucking in a breath you sat on some cushions directly across from him.

Heat began to slither up your belly, the haze and glistening skin of the erotic dancers making your cunt ache. Pulling at your stola you stifled a whine, chewing on your lip under the mask. It must have been that brew that man gave you, some sort of Aphrodisiac. Venus herself must have dipped her tits in the brew, you were on fire.

Transfixed in the low hum of the droning singers, the sensual beating of the drums and the escalating cries of pleasure— you were not prepared for a rather smug voice in your ear. Yelping and sliding away, long fingers wrapped around your upper arm, jerking you close. Viserys lilac eyes were a bit hazy as he murmured, “You aren’t secretive you know that? Thinking I don’t know that you’re going through my belongings, sending my steward around.”

As his thin face began to erupt into a sinister smile you grew a bit fearful. Maybe you’d crossed the line. Targaryen’s were notoriously unpredictable. You gulped out a weak, “I apologize, maritus*, I do, please!” Viserys only smiled more and pulled you flush atop his thin hips.

“I’d prefer dominus*, my sly little Baetican,” he drawled, dragging fingertips across your overheated skin. Nosing along your slick neck he continued, “Almost as slithering as that viper of your uncle,” his soft curls tickling you issued a full body shudder and whimper.

“Dominus, I simply wished to- ah- find out what pleases you! You show me no attention,” you wheedled, overwhelmed with groping hands and wandering lips. Viserys cruelly mocked, “Dear, you were a pact, a bag of sesterces, a pretty little something that makes me look good when I get my birthright back.”

Anger seized through your veins at his callous words, shoving him off with a hiss. Viserys smug look turned to shock as he called, “I wasn’t done yet! Come back here!” You shook your head and stumbled through the clouds of burning incense, past the degenerates contorted and fucking, howling to Lūna.*

Slinking through to doors, not to make any noise, you arrived on a much quieter plaza of sorts. A fountain, some beautiful columns, and a small worship temple. Probably Venus. You ran toward the temple, seeking to hide from your vile husband.

Inside everything was painted a rosy, gorgeous color. A statue of Cupid* surrounded by candles and offerings sat at the head. You decided to sit against the wall, staring at the little cherub from the side. You filtered through your robes to throw a coin at the shrine. No one had shrines to the son of Venus*. That you knew until now.

“Strike him, will you,” you asked out loud.

Viserys. What a wretched ass. You knew this was a pact. He showed desire but nothing else. Doomed to a loveless marriage with a power-hungry maniac. You wanted to make him cry, make him hurt like you were. Throwing your mask off your hands clenched into balls of fury. Then took a deep breath, holding the tears back.

“I said I wasn’t done, now you ran off to weep?,” Viserys snapped as he entered the shrine. You stared at him coldly and replied, “No, I didn’t want to hear your vile words. I’m sure you had some great insults coming up, dominus.”

The blonde scoffed and leaned against a pink column, crossing his sinewy arms. He drawled, “Whatever, I was going to say, that you have proven yourself to be strong and dedicated. I like that. Ask me next time and I’ll take you along to my affairs.”

You crawled forward on all fours, holding his piercing gaze until you sat back in front of cherubic Cupid. Gesturing to the god you said, “I’m glad then, I have your approval dominus. Now fuck me. Prove it. Prove your power over me.”

Viserys sputtered for a second, pale cheeks blotchy. His cock was hard enough you could see it through the layers of his toga. You needed this, didn’t care if it was the Minotaur of days of old fucking you open. Anger and lust coursed in your veins, the drink wracking your system.

He mumbled under his breath and padded over to shut the doors to the shrine. Just leaving you two and marble Cupid. He knelt down in front of you, looking composed but sweat beaded along the high points of his face. You leaned back, revealing your legs and bare cunt, pulling and undoing your stola*.

Viserys sat like a dolt. Obviously he did not have the upper hand in this situation, Face getting redder and redder. You purred, “Dominus, or should I say, Caesar?” The blonde moaned softly, trembling hands undoing his expensive garments marking the man’s station. You were naked and waiting, smirking to yourself. Viserys, now just as bare didn’t move.

“How do you want me Caesar?,” you hummed with a cock of your head. Visery’s swollen prick could rival Priapus* currently, leaking and red. He rasped thinly, lips agape, “Ride me, ride me, hispanus.” Stifling a laugh at the suddenly submissive acting senator you prowled forward like a tigress, placing your jeweled hand on his pale chest, pushing the man back.

Straddling yourself across lean thighs you rolled your slick pussy across his length, moaning lowly in satisfaction. Big hands clamped down on your thighs, a strangled noise leaving Viserys’ throat. Suspiciously close to a whine.

You leaned forward to press your tits against his flat chest, breathing against his pink lips, “Caesar, why are you bowing to such a simple whore him? One from Hispania, probably not even a citizen. Tsk tsk” Viserys thrashed some, face pouty. His free hand clamped down on your neck as the blonde hissed, “This is no time to jest, your Caesar wants you to ride his cock. Get to it.”

He wouldn’t let go until you heaved for a breath, sliding onto his long cock, the protrusion deep and nestled on your sensitive upper walls. He let go, hands now groping your breasts, that irritating look back on his face. You coughed wetly, sucking in breath as you clumsily began the first few thrusts, but it felt wonderfully divine.

Your pussy, lips, and nipples were hypersensitive and swollen, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting off over your body. You rode harder, seeking more and more. Viserys gasped, “Gods, fuck, you’re different tonight.” Slapping him across the cheek while simultaneously squeezing his turgid length made the made shout, eyes fluttering.

“I may be your, hng ohhh, wife, b-but I can be your equal! Fah-fucking lackwit! Jaehaerys and Alysanne ring a godsdamned bell?” Your cunt grew slicker and slicker with your arousal, sweat rolling down your back, between your bouncing tits. The small shrine was growing warmer, the sounds of fucking echoing in the small temple.

Viserys mewled hungrily around your chest as you reached back to grab his overfull balls, squeezing ever-so gently. His eyes flashed open, mouth opening and body arching as he cried your name passionately. He managed to string together a broken sentence, “I- Ifffff- you beast, keep it up, ah Cupid you little shit! I will rethink my behavior!”

You plastered yourself to the man, luridly slapping your plush hips against him, moaning uncontrollably. Viserys was right along with you in pitch, desperately jerking his wonderful cock into your needy cunt. Sloppy sharing lips you growled, “Good boy.”

Your foggy mind expected another bout of anger.

No. Viserys outright whimpered and seized your lips, skinny arms holding tight as he planted his feet and pounded your cunt. He licked into your mouth, tongues dancing together in a style much older than Rome ever was. The senator caressed and sought to drive himself into you, besides his cock of course.

Pulling free from slobbery lips you rasped, “You like that? Dominus just wants to be my good boy? Ah-ct like one and I’ll give you ah-ah-alll the praise you want oh pretty silver!” He nodded fervently, lilac eyes searching your own, whimpering unintelligibly.

His blunt cock head was massaging your most tender spot, driving you to grab Viserys hand and guide it to your swollen Pearl. He picked up easily, eyes lidded with heavy satisfaction at your carrying on. You began to shake, the pleasure heightening to the realm of the gods.

“Ah! Caesar, Viserys, Dominus! I’m gonna,” you convulsed and crumpled atop of him whining when your clit was rudely pinched. Another one wracked your frame when a flood of hot spend filled your warm cunt. You babbled deliriously in your own dialect, Viserys panting and heaving through his heavy unload.

Flattened atop of him now you warily eyed Cupid, little cheeks puffed as he smiled. With a scoff and a residual tremble you said, “I did pray he would strike us. Not sure if it’s love, but I felt the lust.”

Viserys hummed gently, carding fingers through your sweaty curls, “He might have mad contact, I would kill any other woman this brash. Take that as a compliment, you are quite special my baetican vipera.”

“I’ll take it. Do you think our fucking was a good enough offer?”

He barked a laugh, stealing your lips for a peck, “Very much so. We should built a shrine in the manse.”

Translations/Explanations:

* Praetorian Guard: Guard of the Imperial family, Caesar, and special agents

* Sesterce: Roman Coin 1/4 of a denarius

* Denarius: silver coin

* Aedile/Aedileship: Senator of public office, Job that involved maintenance of Public buildings in shape and regulation of public festivals. Also keeping city life in order and that needs are met.

* Cinaedus: Male willing to be the passive partner in a homosexual relationship

* Hispania Baetica: Third province of Spain. Rich and romanized, they are citizens of Rome. Eventually brought up now named cities of Cádiz, Seville, Cordoba.

* Pro-consul: Governor or military commander of a province

* Esquiline hill: One of the seven hills of Rome. A upper class residential district.

* Thrace/Thracian: Area of people spanning between Bulgaria, Greece, and Turkey.

* Briton: Roman conquered England

* Novantae: powerful Celtic tribe in the north of Briton.

* Consul: Highest senate position, has the emperors ear

* Triclinium: a dining room with couches on three sides and a table.

* Capitoline Hill: Name says all they be doing government shit up there

* Pan: Greek name for a forest god with nymphs. A horny goat okay

* Cupid: God of lust/love, son of Venus

* Maritus: Husband

* Dominus: Lord, master, owner

* Caesar: Emperor

* Venus: goddess of beauty and love

* Stola: Women’s dress at the time, feminine version of the toga

* Priapus: Fertiliy protection god known for his HUGE DONG

* Hispanus: From Hispania

[danytherelentless]

A Heartfelt Goodbye

Eddard Stark x fem!reader

summary: after his wife's recent passing, Lord Stark is looking for a governess to raise his children

warnings! smut, cunniligus, p in v, pre-marital sex (big deal in Westeros), asoiaf typical sexism (if you squint)

word count: 3k

note: please forgive me if there are any mistakes or it appears a little disjointed, the editing was shaky at best

It was more than a year after the loss of his wife that he decided to take on a governess for his children.

He had refused marriage so soon after, and did not think he would ever take a wife again, and had not wanted to have a governess raise his children for it felt an insult to Cat, yet Maester Luwin had been advising him that his children would need such guidance in their lives, especially with them all being so young, and Eddard had finally relented.

He mulled over the options of Northern ladies for some time before deciding upon you. He'd never met you before, but he had known your father, brothers and some of your cousins. Your father had been one of his greatest and truest advisors during Robert's Rebellion, your elder brother one of his friends as well, and he remembers hearing much of you then, though you'd been younger at the time. Patient, caring and wise as a child. Surely you remained so as an adult? You were also unmarried which meant you had no other obligations nor children of your own to tend to. So he sent the letter to your Lord father asking if you would be suited and able to fill such a position in his household.

He received response soon enough and it was settled upon that you would be arriving to Winterfell within the next few weeks.

Your smile was the first thing he noticed upon meeting you, a kind and gentle thing which warmed him to you almost immediately.

"My Lord," you greeted with a curtsy after you had dismounted to stand next to your father and brother who had led you here.

"My Lady. I am thankful you have taken upon this position."

"It is a great honour, my lord. One I hope I shall be able to fulfil."

Robb was the most reluctant of his children to you, though that was expected and understandable as the eldest. His youngest three, however, were instantly enamoured with you, even baby Bran. But it was Jon which made him realise you were perfect for the role whom you treated well as any of his other children.

It took some time of course for the new dynamic to settle, for you to become comfortable with his children and vise-versa, but eventually, even Robb warmed to you. Even Ned himself found that he enjoyed your company. You had to ability to always make him feel at ease or give him the perfect advice for whatever situation he was put in.

He began to fall for you, which felt inevitable given how lovely you were. But he could not help the vicious guilt which he felt. It felt wrong, no matter how much time passed since Cat's passing, it still felt like a great insult to her memory, and to your own honour, though he never acted on his own feelings.

At least not until Robert called upon him when Balon Greyjoy rebelled against the crown.

He sat in the Godswood, the night before he would leave in contemplation. Many of his bannerman had gathered already at Winterfell with more on their way straight to White Harbour. He did not want to die so soon, though that was something he expected just as he had during Robert's Rebellion when he rode away from Riverrun, yet this time it felt so much closer to him. He couldn't bare the thought of Robb being made Lord so young, of his grief. Of the struggle and strife which he would face and the deceit he would no doubt face in spite of his youth. The idea of his little lady Sansa, or his wild little she-wolf Arya not remembering his face as they grew. Of baby Bram not having so much as a memory of him to place to his name.

He thought of you, of never seeing you again, of never confessing the feelings held within his heart. Though his guilt remained to an extent not as it once had, the idea of never getting to tell you made his heart ache something fierce. It overwhelmed any guilt he was feeling.

"My lord," your voice snapped him from his glum pondering.

"My lady. The hour is quite late, the air cold," he could barely see you in the darkness, the only light emitting from the lantern in your hand and the one sitting near his feet.

"I was worried for you," you confessed.

It was a normal thing to worry about. He was beneath no assumption that you felt the same as he, but he knew that you viewed him as a friend for you often spent hours drinking, exchanging stories and laughing well into late evenings together. So much so that he’d had to quietly had to expel rumours amongst the staff to the best of his ability, hoping you had not heard of them. He knew that it was a sign of the impropriety of your relationship, but he just couldn’t bring himself to stop.

"I'll be back soon enough," he found himself reassuring you.

He watches as you walk closer to him, "may I sit?"

"Of course," he spoke embarrassingly quickly.

You took your seat on the tangled roots at his side, shivering slightly as you burrowed closer into your cloak.

"You really shouldn't be out here, my lady. You may catch a chill," he voiced his concern.

"And neither should you. What sort of a friend would I be if I allowed you to wallow out here all alone?" there was teasing in your voice. He found a smile growing across his face.

He looked to you then. You looked truly beautiful in the low light of the flickering lanterns, shadows cast across your face. You seemed quite sad, though he could see a longing in your eyes has he stared at you.

He felt something get trapped in his throat, unable to say anything as he looked upon you. There was a vulnerability which always clung to you, in the way you smiled so freely, the way you spoke so kindly and could be so forgiving. He saw that in you now. Something raw. He craved it, craved you, craved you near him, in his arms. He felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach.

He craved you, completely and utterly. Entirely vulnerable, bare flesh beneath him, moaning for him. His name, not his title, he loved it when you said his name. Not Eddard, just Ned. He wanted to hear it. Now.

He kissed you instead, a hand on your cheek pulling you close to him. Regret flooded him immediately.

"I'm so sorry," he apologised, pulling away, yanking his hand from your flesh, suddenly feeling quite sick. Barely a moment of your lips on his, so sweet and true. The taste turned to ash on his tongue, however.

"That was dishonourable of me, my lady. Forgive me please. I lost myself."

"No," you grabbed at his forearm and moved closer, you leg leaning into his own, "I... I don't mind."

He looks to you then, a goddess at his side. Meant to be worshipped. It was fitting you were both sat beneath a Weirwood tree.

He feels your delicate hand upon his bearded jaw and he allows you to pull him to you, eyes closing as your lips are joined with his.

He can tell you're inexperienced, but he relishes in it. It has been so long since he'd had any company, and he wanted this. With the thought of possible death so close, he could hardly deny himself you, especially if you wanted him too.

He part from you, breathless, "I want you."

He hadn't quite meant to just blurt it out so bluntly, but can't bring himself to want to take it back. It is his truth, after all. And in this moment, it would be wrong for him to not tell you.

You seem shocked for a moment.

"I want you too," you admitted.

His heart stops for a split second before he crashes his mouth back on yours, your tongues tangling together in some dance.

He kisses you for what feels like hours before he remembers you are out in the cold, and then he guides you back to the keep and to your chambers. The walk is silent and you bump into no one, though guards trail you both outside the keep and through some of the hallways.

He is about to part ways with you and leave for his own when you grab his wrist.

"Wait. Why don't you join me?"

Your cheeks are beautifully flushed, and he can hardly refuse such a welcome invitation, though his honour is screaming at him to stop. His desires simply win over, he is a weak man for you.

He undresses you slowly, pulling away your cloak, helping you unlace your dress as you exchange kisses. You help him with his own layers, and soon you are both bare as the day you were born. He looks upon your beauty, across your smooth skin, your breasts, the mound of hair between your legs. He feels his mouth water. He would turn you around and simply sit gazing upon your naked flesh for hours, studying you like a tome of history.

He lays you down upon furs and kisses down your neck, sucking a bruise some too dark into the flesh which he may regret some the next day should he notice, yet he cannot help himself as he listens to your sweet sighs and feels were hands caressing his arms then his chest.

His lips continue down your body, sucking and licking at your breasts and listening to the melodic sounds you bless him with, hands pawing at your thighs as he further parts them. He kisses down you stomach, beneath your bellybutton and then your naval, before finding his place between your legs, eyes upon your cunt, so close to him and oh so delectable.

"What are you..." your sentence is broken by a surprised and quiet moan as his tongue parts your folds and tastes your sweetness. He licks and sucks at you observing each reaction from his place which he could. Every twitch which you body made and every sound which left your lips. Ned took one of your thighs in his hold and brought it up over his shoulder. His nose is buried in the mount of hair above your cunt as he sucks on that bundle he knows will have you see stars.

You moan and gasp, legs tensing around his head and fingers tugging at his dark hair. He cannot help but groan into you, grinding down into your sheets to attempt to relieve the ache in his cock. He resists the urge to fist his cock in hand by instead pushing a finger inside of you, curling it upwards to feel that spongy spot. You are tight and warm and so so wet. He savors every moment of it.

He curls a second finger inside of you, listening to you high keening whimpers and stretches you wider, and then a third.

"Ned!" your fingers tighten and tug harshly at his hair, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels your body tensing as you climax on his fingers. He licks some of it up before he finds himself too impatient to see your face again. He hopes he will be able to do this again so that he may taste you for longer.

You are worn, face etched with sweet ecstasy. He kisses you with your own taste on his tongue, an action which should disgust you, yet you answer with fervour, a laziness to your motions. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into you, deepening the kiss even further till your tongue is again in his mouth.

One of your arms caresses down his body as your lips part, your eyes hooded, breathing erratic. Your hand trails over his hip before it wraps around his hard cock.

He thrusts forwards as your fist closes around his tip, jerking downwards experimentally. He wraps his own hand over you guiding it up and down as he would his own in the privacy of his own chambers on lonely nights.

He guides himself within your hand to your cunt, nudging it over your nub, toward your sopping hole.

The thought suddenly hit him hard and fast. So suddenly he jerked back slightly from your touch.

"What... what is it?" you looked concerned, eyes wide, braided hair mussed.

"I shouldn't be doing this, it's wrong." It was dishonourable and an insult to such a fine lady as yourself for him to be debasing you so. You weren't married, after all. Not yet, he thought. He could see you at his side as his wife. But you were not his wife now, and you may never be his wife.

"No, no, no! Please, take me," eyes blown wide, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with each breath you take as you tug him down so gently, "if you'll have me?" His chest clenched at such tender words.

With you begging him so sweetly, he could not resist, though there was a part of him still demanding he stop now, for this was wrong. Yet it was drowned by his raging desire which he had harboured for for so long.

He takes his position once more over you, between your thighs, and pushes himself inside of you slowly and carefully. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull at feeling such pleasure, and he nearly thrusts into you as a wild man would, but he resists easily enough for he knew it would cause you harm. He listened as you groaned and your face tugged into a discomforted expression, he felt himself stopping then, ready to pull out should you change you mind.

"Just slowly. Be gentle with me, please," your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, you knees farther parting to allow him better access.

He moves his hips so slowly at first, thrusts shallow and experimental, before his lips captured yours in a passionate flurry of movements. You were so warm, so wet. He knew you were most likely a virgin, a lady such as yourself. That thought only made his feel more hungry for you.

His movements continued as a slow and steady pace, before you whined prettily into his mouth and grabbed at his hip.

"You can move more," you spoke, breathless as he parted from you.

He obliged, building up his pace, pulling one of your legs up and around his waist as his thrusts became deeper and faster with each moan that left you mouth.

He could not tear his eyes away from you, from your sweat slick brow, your squeezed shut eyes and 'o' parted lips. He felt his own release build, but wanted you to finish at least once more for him, so he brought one hand between you and felt for you nub and began to rub at it, listening and watching your reaction as to what was best.

You tightened further around him, legs squeezing at his sides as you came for a second time. He could no sooner hold onto himself and buried his face in your neck and lost himself to you, thrusting without abandon as he chased after his own climax.

He came with a low groan, sucking kisses into your neck, filling you with his seed so deeply that for a moment, he prayed it would take, the thought of seeing you with child so tantalising.

He stayed within you for a few moments, perhaps even minutes, catching his breath and listening to yours.

He presses a tender kiss to your brow before pulling his softened cock from you with a wince. He was unable to look away as he sat up and eventually saw some of jus seed dribble out of you. He had to supress a groan.

"I'm sorry," he eventually broke the silence.

"Whatever for?"

He looked back at you, a goddess much to perfect for someone such as himself, worth more than ten of him, "for dishonouring you, my lady. I would have wed you before bedding you, yet I have not."

"I don't expect you to wed me, my lord," you admitted.

"Please don't call me that now. I have no right to any title after the disservice I have given you," for even thinking of getting her with child.

"You haven't. I wanted to be with you, just as much. I hope you don't think any less of me for it."

"No, I do not."

"Then we are simply two friends having a long and heartfelt goodbye," your smile is sad and small, not one of any joy or happiness.

"Is that all you view me as? Your friend?" he found himself speaking before he could stop, pulling on his underclothes.

"No, no. I... I feel for you. In my heart. I..." you paused and he looked at you, "I have come to love you, Ned. For not only the just and honourable Lord which you are, but for the loving father, and kind man. I enjoy the companionship you have offered me in the time which I have known you, and I have desired more of you for some time now."

He found himself dropping his breeches from hand and returning to your bed where you sat looking at him.

"It is fine should you not feel the same--"

"I do," he interrupted, bringing his hand to your cheek, "I love you."

You leaned into him, smile broadening across your face.

"I will wed you upon my return, my lady. I swear it to you."

He kisses you once more, a deep and long kiss filled with his love, before dressing and bidding you goodnight, feeling wrong to leave you after you had shared something so intimate with him.

Despite himself, despite leaving for war and having bedded you, confessed his love and swore to marry you though he may not even live to see you again after tomorrow, he sleeps well and peacefully that night.

He wed you the same day of his return.

comments are looked upon fondly here so don't be a stranger ;)

(please no negativity, my heart can't take it. I am a delicate soul)

[axelsagewrites]

Ramsay Bolton*Catch You

Pairing: Ramsay x F!Reader

Summary: Ramsay gives the reader one last chance to escape before becoming his wife

Requested by @darkrose33

Warnings: Ramsay, swearing, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, f! receiving oral, humiliation, rough sex, degradation, chase kink 18+

Word count: 1894

A/N: Ramsay is a terrible terrible person who did terrible terrible things that I do not condone...however Iwan Rheon made him so attractive in a strange way so you cannot blame me for writing smut for him

Masterlist Here

“You can run,” his voice bellowed through the forest as your feet crashed across the ground amongst the trees, “But you can’t hide,”

It was a cat and mouse game. Ramsay wanted you but you couldn’t marry a traitor even if secretly you wanted him too. Any other person would be scared when they heard his boots crunching on branches and leaves as he ran through the forest after you. a weird spark lit up in your stomach.

“If you can make it to the other side, you’ll be a free woman,” he said, candlelight illuminating the chamber that had become your cell. He’d never laid a hand on you, but gods did he want to.

“And if I don’t?” you asked.

Ramsay smirked, lightly holding your jaw in his hand despite your grimace, “Once I catch you, you won’t want anyone else,”

Leaves and twigs scrapped your face as you ran through the trees, jumping over logs, and twisting around roots. You could hear him getting closer and your heart pounding in your ears. Another log jumped another corner turned then suddenly you had to stop and catch yourself. A lake the width of two men’s heights stretched across you and freedom.

Not even a direwolf could clear the jump. Perhaps there’d be a narrower crossing point further up but how long did you have before he caught up? Your head spun as you tried to look for an option. You heard his laugh running through the wind. Without any other option you began to attempt to climb the nearest tree.

Your hand gripped the branch and you managed to only get a few feet off the ground when your hand began to slip. Trying to find another spot to grab, the branch holding your foot snapped beneath it, your body moved to cling to the tree, but you began to slip. You yelped when you felt yourself falling or perhaps it was from the hand that suddenly was on your hips.

“Caught you,” Ramsay smirked, not nearly as out of breath as you. His strong hands dug into your hips, “You can let go now,” he said.

There was no point trying to run. Ramsay guided you down the tree, hands still clung into your hips as your back was against him. With your feet now on the ground, Ramsay stepped forward pushing you into the tree and his front into your back. You gasped at the feeling of his hard on pressing into you. “What now?” you asked, refusing to look back.

“Now,” Ramsay said as he leaned his mouth down to your ear, his breath fanning over your skin, “I’m going to fuck your tight little hole right in this fucking forest,”

“Anyone could walk by,” your eyes widened despite the excited shiver that went down your spin.

Ramsay spun you around before pressing your back harshly into the bark, deliberately pressing his cock into you as he trapped you between his arms, “Good,” he said, his lips hoovering over yours, “That way they know what’s mine,”

With that his lips crashed onto yours in a deep and messy kiss. His hands moved to grope your chest over your dress. Ramsay groaned into the kiss when he felt your lips move back. You weren’t even sure why you felt a tingle in your stomach. This was so wrong. But gods did his lips feel good.

You gasped when he bit down harshly on your bottom lip, whimpering slightly as he moved his tongue in. his fingers trailed the edges of your neckline before gripping the fabric and pulling it down. You shivered as the cold forest air ran over your nipples that instantly hardened at the cold. Ramsay moaned when he felt your skin under his touch and grinned when he felt your hardened buds. Soft moans left your own lips as he began to twist them gently at first. Then when he pinched them suddenly you whined as a hollow feeling started in your stomach.

“Look at you already so desperate,” Ramsay’s breath was warm against your face in contrast with the forest chill, “So desperate for me,” there was a glint in his eyes as he stared you down, “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” Your face flushed and you tried to look away. Ramsay growled as he grabbed your jaw harshly, gripping it tightly in his fingers as he forced you to look him in the eye, “I asked you a question,” he said lowly, “Now answer me,” his fingers dug in deeper.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered out as you looked into his eyes which seemed to darken when you spoke.

“Yes what?” he said as he pressed himself even closer to you, no space left between you and him or the tree that dug into your spine.

You whined lightly at the feeling. Despite everything you wanted nothing more than what he was offering, “I want you to fuck me my lord,” you managed to say just above a whisper.

Ramsay smirked at your whimpering. He dropped your jaw from his grip only to begin hiking up your skirt, “All you had to do was ask,” he said as he dropped down to his knees, gazing up at your cunt, “Look how wet you are,” Ramsay said, letting your skirts fall to cover his body as he positioned himself by your cunt.

You stared off into the forest as his hot breath fanned against your wet pussy. You gasped when you felt his hands grab the flesh of your hips under your dress. His nose nudges against you and a whimper left your throat. “Please,” you whined without knowing if he could even hear you.

Finally, Ramsay gave in, and you were thankful for the tree to stabilise you as he licked up your folds. Ramsay did not pause for even a moment as his tongue began to lap up your juices. You didn’t want to moan. Anyone could come past. But when his tongue ran circles over your clit you couldn’t stop them. You felt hollow when he moved away from your clit but full as his tongue began to dive into you, licking you perfectly. Your hands were gripping bark trying to keep yourself standing as his nose nuzzled into your clit.

A knot was building in your stomach as Ramsay worked his wonders with his tongue. His hands squeezed and your hips, moving back to feel the soft flesh of your ass. His hands groping your body and his tongue licking your juices made the knot tighten. Suddenly you felt your whole-body tensing, your legs locking his head in place. “Fuck,” a long whine ripped from your throat as you felt a wave rush through your body. You couldn’t stop yourself moaning his name as you came around his tongue.

When he reappeared from between your legs his face was slick with your juices and a smirk on his lips, “I think you woke the whole forest with that one darling,” he said as his hand moved to grip your throat, “I think I should punish you for that,”

“Please,” you whimpered but the idea of him punishing you just made you ache for him.

“I think,” he said as one of his hands worked on his trousers, “I should fuck you right up against this tree,” he said as his cock sprung free. Without thinking you looked down at it and stared with awe as he held his cock in his hand, “What do you think?” he asked, turning his eyes back to yours.

You nodded but Ramsay squeezed your throat. You couldn’t just nod. “Please,” you whimpered, “Please do it. make me yours,” your hands moved to hold onto his arms, squeezing his hard biceps, “Fuck me, please I’ll be good,” you begged.

Ramsay’s eyes were filled with lust, “Such a good whore,” he said as he began to pull your skirts back up, lining himself up with your entrance, “That’s what you want right? To be my whore?”

“Yes,” you whined which turned into a gasp when you felt his tip began to push in.

Ramsay groaned as he slowly began to push his cock into you. once the head was in, he paused for a moment, and you felt yourself adjust to the burn as he stretched you out. However, he did not wait long before he suddenly began to thrust into you, his whole length diving into you and filling you up.

At first you gasped, a pain starting at first, but the pain ripped through your body like a wave of pleasure. Ramsay gripped your hips as he thrust into you and admired the tears falling from your eyes. “You look so pretty like this,” he growled sending shivers down your spine.

The pain was now wholly replaced by pleasure as he thrust into you, with each thrust your back hitting into the tree. Curse words fell from your lips in a mix of moans of whimpers. Ramsay groaned and growled as he fucked you, his lips falling onto the skin of your neck to suck dark hickeys into the delicate flesh. His hands moved from your hips to your still exposed chest. A wave of pleasure ran through you as he began to pinch and squeeze your nipples. Your walls clenched around him, cumming again for the second time around him. Your moans filling the forest like a symphony to Ramsay’s ears.

But it did not stop him. If anything, his thrusts got harder when he felt you squeezing around him, “Do it again,” Ramsay said, pressing his forehead against yours. whines of protest came out, but he did not care, “Do it again,” he growled, one of his hands moving to grip your throat as the other pinched hard on your nipple, “I wanna watch you cum over and over and over,” he said, thrusting with each word.

Even if you wanted to protest you couldn’t as the pressure built again. He let go of your throat if only to shove his fingers in your mouth, swirling them around your tongue before moving them to rub sloppy circles onto your clit. Your moans got muffled when he slammed his mouth onto yours. the way your moans vibrated into the kiss made his cock start to twitch.

When he felt your walls clamp around him again, he almost spilled right then. He pulled back from the kiss to watch your face contort in pleasure, the orgasm ripping through your body like a tsunami crashing. His thrusts got sloppy as he tried to ride it out but when you moaned his name, he couldn’t stop himself. Ramsay grunted as his seed began to spill, leaning onto the tree behind you to steady himself as he drained himself into you. his lips hovered over yours as he came, and you closed the gap for a needy light kiss.

When he pulled back, removing his cock from you, he used his hands to keep you steady. It was like trying to stand on ice for the first time as your legs ached from the orgasms. “You caught me,” you said, panting as you recovered from the ordeal.

Ramsay grinned down at you as he caught his own breath, “And don’t think im ever gonna let you run again,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy

[aemondslefteyeball]

Let's Have a Satanic Orgy!

[Visenya Targaryen x Fem!Reader]

[Warnings: Degradation, spit, slapping, spanking, lots of sacrilege, general blanket warning for lots and lots of sacrilege, choking, implied gore]

[Summary: A heteronormative, Gods-fearing Westerosi family navigates life in a world rife with temptation and sin!]

(Tbh I think this is the most fun thing I've written so far this might turn into a series idk. Title comes from this song, please support the band they’re both super cool)

Word Count: 2.9K

Maegor & the Meaning of Friendship

Raising children is hard. Raising your lover’s child is harder, especially when he’s an unholy, incestuous abomination borne of a lesbian’s blood magic. And that leads to predicaments such as the one you found yourself in right now. Little Maegor was napping happy as a lamb while he levitated two feet above his crib. You had just got him back down. Sighing before tiptoeing your way around the defense glyphs on the floor, you reached your hands under the sleeping child as gently as you could before lowering him to the bed. That was the exact moment violet eyes snapped open and demonic wails rang through one of the few completed towers. Sighing, you shushed him as you bounced Maegor on one hip, grabbing his favorite ceremonial toy dagger. When the toy did little to appease him, you cleared your throat. 

“Hush little darling,

Dream of pain.

Screaming, brimstone, blood in rain.

But if those Riverlands don’t burn, 

Momma’s gonna turn them into an urn.” 

The child smiled as his head lolled back onto your shoulder. He dropped the dagger, but you bid a shadow to catch it before the clatter woke him again. He was growing by the day, and it was apparently starting to become an issue for his wet nurses. You regenerated two pairs of nipples this week alone. And that was nothing compared to the first time Maegor discovered what teeth could do and you spent a week trying to revive his Septa until giving up and binding her soul to a child’s doll that now sat untouched in the corner of his room. Sighing, you made a mental note to go through which bound souls he did and didn’t play with so you could release the ones he ignored. As you tiptoed back over the sigils in the floor, you grabbed a pouch of hangman’s ash from the interior of your dress and sprinkled it over the line you had broken upon entering the room. Closing the door after you, you crept along the shadows through the keep until arriving at the yard. Empty. She’s running herself too thin. Visenya hadn’t been arriving at your shared chambers until after the hour of the owl most nights. But you didn’t mind, the night had always been to your liking, and nights with her were nothing short of perfect. Lateness be damned. When her last haunt turned up empty, you frowned. The only other finished parts of the castle were the kitchens and the Sept. It was decidedly…unlike her to be there but worst case scenario she wouldn’t be there and you could just make another Septon piss himself. To your surprise, Visenya stood before the altar and took in the effigies of six gods. “I’ve always found it strange that they never worship the only God of theirs that’s actually real.” 

Visenya turned around at the purr of your voice, a dark chuckle escaping her lips. “And yet the farce drones on. But appearances must be maintained.” Gliding to meet her at the altar, you smiled when your love pulled you in for a kiss. With a flick of your hand, the heavy wooden doors slammed shut, and you bit into Visenya’s lip hard enough to draw blood. She moaned when your tongue probed at the cut, and you pulled away for a brief second. 

“Do you know what our son has been up to?” Your arms came to rest on the blonde’s broad shoulders, pressing the curve of your chest into her. 

Visenya grunted as she pivoted so the back of your thighs was flush with the altar. “There are other things on my mind.” A wicked grin split your lover’s face as her rough hands dropped to your thighs, pulling your weight out from under you as she pushed you back onto the altar. 

You let out a small chuckle, raising an eyebrow at her as you stumbled back. “Like maintaining appearances?” 

A dark look flashed across Visenya’s face, and she tenderly lifted your arms from her shoulders. She took care to press gentle kisses along your wrists, locking eye contact with you before she pulled her belt off and bound your wrists with it. A single finger tilted your chin up, a predatory look on the Queen’s face. “Appearances will be kept, in public.” Her thumb stroked softly at your jaw as your gaze came back to focus on the dribble of blood from Visenya’s lower lip. “But since there isn’t an audience here,” She almost sounded disappointed, even if her better instincts told her otherwise. “You are going to be a good girl and help me defile this.” The words were spoken in a soft coo, with a razor’s edge beneath it. Visenya placed a kiss on the tip of your nose before she shoved you onto your back. “Hands above your head. Don’t move them.” She didn’t wait for you to adjust yourself, her hands rising to the neckline of your dress and promptly tearing the lace. 

“Hey!” You let out an indignant huff.

“Shut up.” When you opened your mouth to retort, she brought a hand down to slap at your exposed breast, the peak stiffening. “If you complain again, you’ll be returning to our chambers naked.” Your lover's hand wandered over your torso, and you arched your back into her touch. A smug look pulled across Visenya’s features as she rolled your nipple between her fingers, her mouth pulling the other in. A bolt of heat jolted to your core as her tongue stroked your nipple, clenching around nothing as you let a breathy moan escape you. Teeth pulled gently at the peak, as her fingers pinched at the other. Her moan vibrated against your flesh, lavishing your breast before slapping the other once more. Satisfied, she released your nipple with a wet pop and flicked her feral gaze up to you. Methodically, her hand rose until two fingers rested against your bottom lip. Opening your mouth, you flicked your tongue across her fingers, wetting the digits thoroughly before pressing a kiss on her fingertips. Visenya’s fingers dug into your thigh hard enough to leave bruises, while she brought the other to brush against your lower lips. Light as a feather, her touch never lingered against your skin for longer than a few moments. You clenched your jaw shut, knowing that she would only prolong the teasing if you complained about it. Fingertips grazed closer and closer to your center, and when you started bucking your hips to try and meet them, her other hand pressed your hips down flat into the altar. 

You finally shot her a pleading look, stilling your movements. “Please, my Queen.” 

A wild grin pulled across Visenya’s features, her fingertips circling your bud as you moaned. “All you had to do was ask.” She cooed again, her tone condescending. By now you should be used to begging her for what you wanted, but it wasn’t something that came naturally. Your abdominal muscles tensed as she continued the lazy pace on your bud. Hooded eyes opened to meet her fiery gaze, and her left hand traversed up your torso, coming to rest under your jaw. “Open.” When your lips parted you were rewarded with the pace on your bud quickening, a soft whine escaping you before Visenya spat into your mouth. Pushing your mouth closed and watching you swallow, her thumb tenderly brushed against your lip for a moment before her expression stilled. Her hand was pulled away from your face, and you mourned the loss of contact before the sting bloomed across your cheek. Visenya waited for you to look back at her before her hand cracked across your face again. “Never talk back to me.” She cooed, lowering her fingers to prod at your entrance, but refusing to give you what you need. “I thought by now you would know your place.” She continued as the hand that struck you came to rest on your throat. “And what is that, precisely?” Before you could answer, her fingers squeezed against the sides of your throat. Visenya chuckled darkly as you clenched uselessly around her digits. 

“Your whore.” The wheeze was barely audible, and your lover squeezed your throat harder. 

Visenya knit her eyebrows together in false concern. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear that.” She murmured. You tried again, but the words were muffled once more. Heat shot to your core as you writhed uselessly against the queen, tears pricking at your eyes. “Nope, still nothing, I’m afraid.” She said with a mocking sigh, finally releasing her grip. 

“Your whore.” You gasped out with the first breath you could suck in, a pleased smile tugging at Visenya’s sculpted face. Two fingers pushed into you suddenly, and you moaned at the fullness. Visenya didn’t give you a chance to adjust, her pace punishing as she curved her fingers into the rough spot that made your vision go blurry. Your teeth dug into your lower lip as you strained against the leather binding your hands. Heat was building in your lower abdomen, your muscles being pulled ever tenser at her continued ministrations. “May I cum?” Visenya quickened her pace, and your hips rolled to meet her actions. Bringing her thumb up to stroke your bud, tension built ever higher in your gut.

“No.” The reply came lovingly whispered, and you knit your eyebrows together, closing your eyes. 

“Please.” You begged, opening your eyes once more to lock with hers as you desperately tried to hold in the wave of pleasure that was about to break within you. 

Visenya looked annoyed, and pulled her fingers out of you at once, slapping your core before shooting you a hard glare. She wrenched you to your feet before promptly bending you over the altar and tearing the remains of your dress off your body. Her fingers laced into your hair and she pulled back until you were looking at her. “Five.” She said simply, untangling her fingers from your hair and pushing your hips into the marble before her hand cracked against your exposed ass. A second later a second one came to the other cheek. 

“One.” You moaned out, slick leaking out onto the altar as your lover gently rubbed the reddened flesh. 

Visenya’s hand cracked out against your skin two more times. “Two.” 

The blonde tutted approvingly behind you, the hand on your hip rubbing gentle circles as she rained the next few blows onto you. Visenya breathed raggedly, while you savored the feeling of her hot skin against yours. When the last blow fell, you took a second to catch your breath. “Five.” Pressing into her touch, you let the silence hang between you two for a second longer. “Thank you, my Queen.” 

Visenya pulled back, taking a step back from the altar. Her deft hands moved to undo the laces of her breeches. “Is a little gratitude so difficult?” She mused, her pants dropping before she carefully stepped out of them. “On your knees.” You dropped immediately, holding your hands up so that Visenya could undo the belt. Afterward, your hands raised to your lover’s smallclothes and you waited for an approving nod before pulling them down. Visenya stepped out of them and promptly hooked her thigh over your shoulder. Pressing a soft kiss to her bundle, you relished the way her fingers tightened in your hair. Your tongue darted out to taste her, and she let out a low moan. Swirling your tongue around her bud, you dropped your face so that your nose ground into her clit while your tongue pressed into her entrance. You moaned at her taste, and Visenya tensed against you at the vibrations, her hips rolling against your face. Slick coated your chin as you continued to tonguefuck your Queen, her moans heady as she ground against your face. “Fingers.” Visenya commanded, and you nodded before coating two in her slick and pushing them into her. “Fuck.” The blonde groaned as she clenched around your fingers. "Such a good little whore for me." You merely started thrusting them into her, drunken off the sound of her building moans and harsh words. When you prodded the rough spot behind her pelvis, Visenya’s movements grew erratic. She rode your face without abandon, her fingers white-knuckling your hair as she squeezed yours. You didn’t stop after her moans hit a crescendo, your fingers continuing at the bruising pace she loved. You lapped up every drop of her cum, licking it off your lips when she finally pulled you away from her core. Visenya looked so fucking beautiful like this, her silver hair frizzing around her face and her heavy-lidded eyes staring down at you lovingly. She closed her violet irises for a few moments longer, lips parted as she caught her breath. When her eyes opened again, they were once more darkened with lust. She pulled you to your feet before pushing you back against the altar. This time she turned you so you lay along the length of the marble, and she crawled up after you, coming to settle between your parted legs. Her hot breath teased against your throbbing core, slick coating your thighs as she pressed her lips to them. Her tongue darted out to taste your essence, looking up at you with a dark look in her eyes before she bit into your thigh. You grunted in pain, another wave of arousal shooting through you as Visenya released you. Pressing a kiss to the burning flesh, she finally swiped her tongue across you, spreading your slick around with a deft tongue. She didn’t wait a moment longer before feasting on you like a starved woman, her lips pressing around your button before she sucked on it and slipped a finger into you. Your heels dug into the marble as you writhed against her touch, wild moans filling the sept. In response, she slid another finger into you and increased the pace, her eyes wild as she drove herself into you. 

When the heat started to build in your gut once more you reached out to hold the hand that she had rested on your hip, and squeezed it lightly. “May I please cum?” You whimpered, arched against the cool marble. Visenya hummed approvingly against you, her fingers quickening as your orgasm came crashing over you. Every muscle in your body tensed as you clenched impossibly tight around your lover’s fingers, hips rolling as you moaned out Visenya’s name incoherently. She didn’t let up until you had started to whimper and push her away, pulling back to rest her head against your thigh.  A haughty grin spread across her face at the sight of you, but her hands were gentle as they stroked your thigh. 

She came to sit up on the altar, pulling your head into her lap. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?” Guilt tinged at her tone, and you squeezed her arm reassuringly as you shook your head no. She nodded and tutted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “And you know I love you?” You smiled and pushed yourself up, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. 

“I love you too.” Having the power to clothe yourself in shadows was entirely useless until it wasn’t. Since meeting Visenya you have become well practiced in it. The tatters of nightshade fabric fell back over your body as if it had been poured there, and the two of you left the sept hand in hand as you returned to the royal apartments.

When the two of you arrived, you were both shocked to see Maegor tearing the heads off of the soul dolls while Aenys watched horrified a few feet away. “Maegor!” You exclaimed. Honestly, you didn’t know where he got his atrocious manners from some days. You would say his father if Aegon had anything to do with his birth because he certainly wasn’t around to teach him afterward. Shaking your head, you gathered a few of the dolls before passing them to Aenys. “We’ve talked about this.” You said gently, kneeling down to look Maegor in the eyes. He stared glumly down at his feet, and you looked back to see Visenya leaning against the doorway with an amused smile on her face. Turning back, you waited for him to raise his gaze to yours, and when he did you gave him a gentle smile. “It’s impolite to not share with your brother.” You explained, gesturing over at Aenys, who was cradling the doll holding the Septa’s soul. “How would you feel if he was tearing the heads off of his toys and didn’t offer any to you?” The boy’s lower lip trembled for a second as he nodded. 

“I’m sorry, Aenys.” You kissed Maegor on the forehead after he said it, and rose back to your feet. Taking a few steps back, you rejoined Visenya where she was watching the two boys. Aenys tentatively tugged at the doll’s head while Maegor beamed at him, when it wrenched loose a howling wail filled the tower. Maegor giggled excitedly, and Aenys was so excited from all of it that he started sobbing. You looked at Visenya lovingly and laced your fingers into hers. “We did a good thing.” You said, resting your head on her muscular shoulder. 

Raising children was hard, but it was easy when you were doing it with the person you love most in the world.

[ramsayxme]

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / AO3 Link

TW - violence, murder, flaying, murder (of a child), physical abuse, emotional abuse, sex, smut, full blown stockholm syndrome, gaslighting yourself, ramsay bolton. I hope you enjoyed my 10 chapters! Thank you so much for reading x

Chapter Ten: And Full Of Terrors

You both awoke to a servant knocking on your door and your infant crying in his bed. You rolled out of bed to grab your squalling baby and Ramsay pulled on trousers to answer the knocking. Ramses quickly latched to your breast, ready for breakfast. You laid back in bed, pulling the blankets high to shield your body from the servant. Ramsay opened the door and a very nervous young man stood on the other side. "My Lord. I am sorry if I woke you, but there is something happening in the courtyard you need to attend to." His voice broke multiple times through the sentence.

Ramsay huffed. "Alright. Let me get dressed... and this better be important." He shook his finger at the servant. "I'll be out in a minute." He shut the door, allow privacy once again. Ramsay looked at you and rolled his eyes regarding the servant. "Sorry, My Lady. I have to go handle this." He pulled a dusty grey waffle-knit over his head before donning his leathers. "Wait a moment and let me come with you. The Little Lord can start his lessons early." You smiled. Ramsay chuckled. "Fine, but bundle him up." Of course you would. Ramsay held his son as you got yourself ready to leave as well and swaddled baby Ramses in the finest furs. You tied him to your chest so the three of you could head down to the courtyard.

You closely followed your husband, his cloak draped over his powerful shoulders and swaying with his steps. With each swing of the cloak, you caught a glimpse of the handful of knives and daggers that he kept on his waistband. You loved how powerful he was. His curls coiled together on the back of his neck and his ears peered out from the dark waves. He walked with confidence, each step oozing of power and purpose. You felt like the most powerful woman to exist as you floated behind him, his heir cooing at your breast.

You exited the stone walls and were met with icy air hitting your face, your hands instinctively covering your baby with your cloak, wrapping it around his tiny body. Ramsay wasn't affected by the cold, his hair blowing softly as it began collecting snowflakes. There was a small group of men, their metal helmets reflecting the snow and making them gleam. "What is it?" Ramsay barked as you approached the men. Without speaking, they began leading Ramsay to the large entrance of the Dreadfort. The wooden doors were towering over you as they pushed them open. On the other side stood a shivering woman, frail and afraid. She held hands with a small boy who looked to be around 4 years old.

Ramsay stood still as a statue, staring at the woman. He turned his head towards the men, and put his hands up, his leather gloves squeaking as he pointed to the woman. "And how is this my concern?" The men nodded and looked at the woman. She had tattered clothes and long blonde hair that was matted in knots. The small boy had black hair and piercing blue eyes. His jaw was prominent and he wasn't shivering. You stared at your husband as he took in the sight.

"Ramsay..." the woman practically whispered. "You don't remember me?" You felt your heart jump, the jealousy and anger bubbling up in your chest. You tensed your body and wished you had brought your knives with you. "No." Your husband said, "Why would I?" She took a step closer, causing all of the men to tense up into attack mode. Ramsay chuckled. "I don't think she will be attacking me. Let her speak." The men relaxed, stepping back to their previous spots. "Ramsay... years ago we lay together. I woke up and you had fled, but..." her voice trailed off as she turned to the boy. Ramsay stared at the child. You were unable to read his expression.

"This is your son." She put her hand on the boys back and gently pushed him forward. He took a few small steps closer to Ramsay and stared up at him. Ramsay gazed at the boy intently. "No, no... if he is mine, he is a bastard, not my son. This is my son, my true heir." He turned to point to you and Ramses. Your eyes were locked on the woman, hatred boiling in your chest and heat pouring into your cheeks. She met your eyes and curtsied with her rags. "My Lady, I mean no disrespect, I mean no trouble-" You interrupted her. "If you meant no trouble, you should have stayed far away. Shut the gates." You demanded the men.

Ramsay held his hand up. "Bring them to the guest chambers. My wife and I will need to discuss a few things but until then, they can rest." Your jaw dropped, your fury now directed at your husband. Ramsay turned on his heels and grabbed your arm. You followed him to the kennels where it was quiet. "Ramsay! I will not-" He interrupted you with his hand on your throat, pushing you backwards into a stone wall. "Let me speak!" He hissed, spitting on your face. "I do not want a bastard son and I do not want this whore woman. I am simply allowing them to come inside until I decide what I want to do with them. Do not question my power again, do you understand?" You stared at your husband, teeth grinding together as you nodded.

"Wonderful. Now, for all we know, this woman is lying. I don't recognize her." You rolled your eyes. "The boy looks like you." You muttered, jealousy oozing from your lips. Ramsay's face twisted into a grin. "Why, you're jealous aren't you? Does it bother you to think about me fucking her before I even knew you?" You growl as you shove Ramsay. Your shove barely moves your sturdy husband. He chuckles. "You're angry. I like when you're angry. My wild wife." He coos, nuzzling into your neck. Ramses is asleep at your chest, so Ramsay can't press his body against you. He kisses your neck, sucking hard and leaving a mark.

While he kisses your neck, he whispers into your ear. "We can get rid of them. Shall we feed them to the dogs? Burn them? Flay them? I'll let you pick, my love... my gift to you." You purr when you hear him say this. You press your lips against his, moaning with passion as your tongue slithers into his mouth. You bite his lower lip hard and twist it between your teeth, making him gasp and pull away. "My feisty bitch!" He grins, blood dripping down his chin. You smile. "Let me take care of the woman. You do whatever you want with the bastard."

Ramsay agreed to this fairly quickly. You had a strong inkling that he found your possessiveness over him quite attractive. Nobody was going to interrupt your life, touch your husband, or push your child to the side. "I think I will tell the bastard that I accept him as mine and want to show him around his new home. When we come in here," Ramsay pointed around the kennels. "I will put him in my biggest girl's kennel and let her get a nice treat." He grinned wickedly at you. "And what will you do?" He kissed your cheek before kissing the black hair on your son's head.

"I want to flay her." You whispered. Ramsay's eyebrows raised. "You've never flayed anyone before, love." You nodded. "I know. I want to flay her, though. I want it to be slow and painful, so she will regret that she ever left her home. And just before she dies, I will tell her what happened to her bastard son!" You chuckled as you watched Ramsay's eyes grow wide with lust. He lets out a snarl as he leans into your neck and bites down, his hot mouth leaving another mark on you. "I'll fetch the boy. You head inside and I'll send the woman in." He whispered before he vanished behind the stone walls.

You ran to your chambers to grab your flaying knife, bow, and some arrows before heading to the torture room. You lay Ramses down for a nap, kissing him on his little forehead. Once you reached the room with the large wooden X, you snuck into a dark corner hidden from view. You remembered Reek in that moment, his frail body dangling from the large wooden cross. More importantly, you remembered the sex that you and Ramsay had on the floor, a wave of fluttering rose in your core as you remembered how it felt. Shortly after you arrived in the room, a few men of the Dreadfort brought the woman into the room, kicking and shrieking. You bit your lip in anticipation, excited to flay this whore that wanted to ruin your life.

She was left on the X, crying and wailing. "Please! My son and I will leave right away! I just thought Lord Bolton would want to meet his son!" She was flailing wildly, the chains clanging on her wrists and ankles. You felt furious at that statement and decided that now was the time to walk out from the shadows. "He does know his son." You said, rising from the darkness of the corner. She trembled as she looked at you. "I gave him his son, his true born heir. Not some bastard he had with a whore. He doesn't love you!" Your voice was gruff, anger settling in your throat.

"Please... We will leave right now. Forgive us." She begged, her eyes dark and wide with fear. You smirked as you got closer to her. "I think it's too late for that." You pulled your knife from behind your back and pointed it at her. "You walked in here like you would take my place. Did you really think that would work?" You pressed the point of your knife to her throat. "No, My Lady, I don't want to take your place. I wouldn't want to be with that monster!" She cried out as you pressed the metal against her skin.

"He is NOT a monster." You growled through your gritted teeth. "Take it back." She shook her head, tears falling from her eyes. "He is a monster, and so are you if you don't see it!" You laughed at her ignorance. "Stupid whore." You muttered as you pressed the knife even harder against her skin, nearly piercing it. You heard the faint sound of barking from the window. You gasped theatrically and leaned in to the woman. "Do you hear that? Shh, listen..."

She started blubbering when she heard a scream when the dogs began barking even louder. "Terrible. I am sorry you had to hear that... but, the dogs have to eat." You grinned, staring at her as she cried out for her bastard son. "Where should I start peeling first?" You asked the woman between her sobs. "Please!" She blubbered. You rolled your eyes as you leaned down, slicing the skin open across her kneecaps. She howled in pain as your knife slipped through her skin easily. You grabbed the flap of skin that hung over her fresh wound and began slowly but steadily pulling it up towards yourself. Her screams were deafening.

Suddenly, you felt hands on your hips. It startled you, since you couldn't hear anyone coming on account of the woman's whining. You spun around to see Ramsay smiling at you proudly. He had blood on his arms and hands, his leathers were off and he was only wearing the grey loose-fitting shirt. You pressed into his body with yours, leaning fully into his arms as you kissed him. You felt warmth immediately between your thighs as he gripped your waist. "Well done, well done!" He chuckled, admiring what you'd done to the woman so far. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach when you knew Ramsay was impressed by you. "Shall we finish the job together, my love?" Ramsay asked, releasing his own flaying knife from its sheath.

--

The woman was completely flayed and the bastard was no longer existing. Ramsay was breathing heavy as he stepped back from the wooden X and draped his arm around your shoulders, you both had bloody hands and arms. You stared at your husband, watching him breathe through his grinding teeth. He peered over at you and flashed a smile. "I'm very proud of you." He raised his eyebrows and turned to you, placing a hand on your cheek. You felt your cheeks flush pink as you looked deeply into his pale eyes. You slammed your lips against his, moaning in his mouth.

You both dropped your knives with a loud clatter on the stone floor, desperately wrapping your arms around each other. He lifted you by your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You wanted him. You knew it would be wildly painful but you wanted him regardless. You wrapped your fingers in his hair and yanked, desire was taking over your body. He groaned into your mouth as he felt the dull pain at his skull. He walked with you over to a chair that was in the corner of the room, next to a small table which you promptly shoved over. He sat down with you on his lap.

You hiked up your skirt around your hips as he undid his trousers, just opening the front enough to release his hard cock that was begging to be touched by you. You wrapped your hands around his throat and squeezed mercilessly. His eyes bulged as you slowly slid down on his cock, the pain was intense but you wanted to please him no matter what it took. He groaned loudly when your cunt was around him, squeezing it tightly in your walls. You continued to choke him with one hand, the other hand grabbed a handful of hair at the nape of his neck and you yanked.

His neck was fully exposed to you and you leaned forward to suck and bite the soft skin. He moaned as you rode him with desperation. You moaned with a mixture of intense pain and pleasure as you bounced on his lap, his cock pounding in and out of you. He held onto your skirt, pulling and pushing with your body. You pulled the hand back that was in his hair and you slapped him hard, his skin immediately flushing red where your hand landed. He growled with pleasure as you choked him harder.

You reached behind his waist and pulled one of his knives from his waistband. You pointed it at his neck, barely pressing the tip against his skin. A low moan crept out of his lips as you nicked his collarbone, blood began trickling out. You sliced down his shirt, freeing his pale chest to the air. You began dragging the knife across his chest, leaving scratches and small gashes across his muscular body. He was staring at you with obsessive eyes, obviously loving what you were doing. You finished with a large and somewhat deep cut across his sternum, digging a little deeper than before.

You threw the knife to the ground as you leaned forward, licking up the blood that was trickling down his chest. Your mouth filled with the warm iron and you continued grinding your screaming body against his. He was panting hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips spread apart to let the moans escape effortlessly. You knew he was close to his orgasm and you didn't slow down as you slid your tongue into his largest wound before kissing him, your mouth leaking his own blood into his mouth.

His thighs tensed and his breathing caught in his throat as he pulled your skirt, desperate for you to slam down on him harder. You obliged, riding him hard as he came. Your poor body was bleeding too, your cunt sore and abused but you couldn't care. You only wanted to please Ramsay. You rode him through his wave until his cock softened inside you. You slowly lifted yourself, nearly collapsing on his lap once you pulled him out. The pain was excruciating. He held you on his lap as his cum dripped out of you onto his trousers.

You were out of breath as well, and tears finally began to fall down your cheeks. Ramsay smiled as he pulled you close, pressing your chest against his. You could feel his heart beating strongly as he held you. He caught his breath and whispered to you, "You're mine forever, My Lady."

You thought back to a time when those words would have terrified you. You used to be so weak and scared of Ramsay. You almost chuckled at your past self, she had no idea what was ahead of her. You remembered the first time you saw a flayed man from a distance and how it made your stomach churn, threatening your lunch to come back up your throat. You thought about now, the act of flaying someone caused you and Ramsay to bond so deeply and even arouse both of you. You remembered the first time you felt pain at the hands of Ramsay, lying on the pelts in the woods when he revealed his identity to you. You laughed at how foolish and simple you were. Now, pain was just another weapon that you were able to harness to turn into pleasure. You learned so much from your lover, you almost wanted to thank him.

You were confident that nobody else would understand your relationship with Ramsay, the relationship that you battled with in your head for so long. You knew that people would assume that you were evil just like him, and perhaps they were right. All you knew is that you loved Ramsay, and he loved you. It had to be love. It had to be. You were too horrified to think of what it was if it wasn’t love. You swallowed the thoughts and settled with the comfortable words you were able to tell yourself. This was love. It had to be...

The End.

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaid Pt.7

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader x Sandor Clegane Smut: Praise Kink, Oral {m receiving}, Breeding Kink, Fluff. )

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The Wedding itself was rushed.

They received Lord and Lady Stark's blessing to use the Winterfell sept to perform the ceremony, and Septon Chayle was more than willing to help once he was convinced neither you nor Sandor were being forced against your will.

Which wasn't technically true, but honestly it just seemed easier to go with it than fight against it. If it had to be anyone, you thought as you entered the great sept decorated with carved masks of The Seven, at least it was him.

Sandor's house was too new to have a cloak to slip over your back, and even if they had it would have been in the Westerlands. Instead they used his regular riding cloak, which was warm and woolen.

The king presided over the ceremony, along with Cersei who looked as if someone was sticking a knife between her ribs to keep her there. Prince Joffery had insisted upon coming out of morbid curiosity. Perhaps he thought they would drag you into the sept kicking and screaming. Princess Marcella tailed her older brother, convinced the wedding would be a romantic affair.

"One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever"

The kiss was a surprisingly soft one, his whiskers prickled your cheeks, but his lips found your almost out of instinct. They were warm and insistent. When he pulled away, you wished he hadn't.

"Congratulations, you two" Chayle nodded, gathering his official looking robes around him. "I wish you both a long and happy life together."

"Thank you, Septon." You nodded politely. Sandor didn't even acknowledge him as he left, looking to the royals with hard eyes that begged the question of "now what?"

"Well now" Robert grumbled, "That's that settled then. Right?"

"Yes, Your grace." You curtseyed meekly, tucking your small hand it to Sandor's gloved one.

"We should give you a minute." Cersei breathed, "Come darlings, the Starks are feasting us tonight we should get ready."

The matriarch led the royal family out of the sept, the door closing with an echoing clang.

"Are you okay?" You whispered, squeezing his hand slightly. "You haven't said anything."

"Fine" He nodded, "You?"

"Good." You confirmed. "You don't think they expect us to..." You led off into the open air.

Sandor grunted, "No one's going to force you to fuck me, if that's what your worried about."

"Hey" you snapped at him, pulling his arm with surprising strength so he was facing you. "First of all, No one could force me to do anything I don't want to do if they tried. Secondly, it's less the act of fucking you I'm worried about and more the complete lack of privacy."

"Oh" Sandor's brow arched, "Now she's worried about privacy. If you had thought of that before, we wouldn't be here."

You knew he was just teasing you from his tone, and you bumped him with your hip slightly. "Fuck you."

The sept door opened slightly, drawing you attention as the queen slipped through the crack.

"Your Grace" you breathed, "Are you-"

"I'm fine." She nodded, "Robert is satisfied. it seems we are off the hook for now."

She eyed the two of you together with a strange glow behind her eyes.

"Have you two...?" she tried to find the words, "I have arranged for a room below to be made up for you. I know it's not much of a wedding, but for the marriage to be legal you will have to-"

"We figured." Sandor grunted, seeming almost embarrassed.

"Sweetling," Cersei eyed you, "would you give me a minute with your husband? Alone?"

"Oh" You blinked, "I- Of course Your Grace. I'll be outside."

The pair of them watched you go before Cersei turned to The Hound with a cold look. She wanted to blame him, yet couldn't.

She wanted to punish him for getting close to you, even if it wasn't his fault.

But it would do her no good to make an enemy of him.

"Clegane, I want you to know how grateful I am for your cooperation in this."

Sandor didn't respond, not bothering to point out he didn't really have a choice in it.

"However, if the rush of things I know some details have been overlooked." Cersei continued, "How well do you know your new wife?"

"Well enough." Sandor shrugged.

"She's special, you know" Cersei impressed upon him. "As loyal as any pet and as sweet as can be. And so trusting."

Sandor's attention was on her, but Cersei couldn't tell if her words were making any impact, which was frustrating.

"If you plan to rape her tonight, I will make sure you never leave this wretched castle alive."

Sandor swallowed at this, caught fully off guard but trying hard not to show it.

"I hadn't made any such plans, Your Grace" He said stiffly, "but the night is still young."

Cersei's face twisted in rage at his implication, wanting nothing more than to have his ugly head mounted on the castle gates.

------

The room was tucked away in the lower levels of Winterfell. You had expected it to be cold, but instead it was pleasantly warm compared to the temperatures above ground.

The chamber itself was mostly empty. These rooms hadn't been used in years; the steward had assured you as you were led down the stairs by torchlight. Sandor had to duck to enter the doorway, finding you sitting on the large bed waiting for him.

"You'd think they'd have let you finish early, all things considered" You joked, moving to help him settle in. You had been sent down earlier, but mostly because queen had not yet figured out what to do with you.

You carefully helped him remove his plate armor bit by bit, until he sighed from the weight being lifted off of him.

He hadn't spoken much; he never spoke much. But particularly now it was worrying, mostly because all you wanted was to talk your nervousness away.

"Sandor?" Your hand moved from his arm to his face, "Please, talk to me. Say something, anything, if only to make me less nervous about all of this."

Sandor sighed, "Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

"Well." You began, "Do you want to do this tonight?"

He stopped at the question and looked at you.

"Because it's okay if you don't." You assured him, "We've been around each other for over a month and you've never tried to...Well I just thought it you wanted to, you'd have tried by now."

He considered this a moment, sitting on a spare chair to get more on your level with his legs spread out lazily. You moved closer to him as his large hands guided you between them.

"You think I haven't thought about it?" He confessed, "You think all those days you spent following me around, those nights you spent sleeping in the stables I didn't imagine dragging your foolish ass into my tent and fucking that kicked puppy look off your face?"

You flushed at this, leaning against his thigh hesitantly as if to ask permission before his hands gripped your waist and pulled you up to straddle his lap. Your toes barely scrapped the floor on either side of him.

"When you let the queen fuck you so the whole camp could hear, do you really think I was the only one who wasn't imagining making you moan like that?" He leaned forward, face less than an inch from yours. "You think when that fat fuck of a king said told us we'd be getting married, a part of me didn't say 'Fucking Finally'?"

Brushing your nose against his cheek, you felt your body begin to quiver on his lap.

"Sandor" You breathed against his ear, "Gods, hold me."

He obeyed, wrapping his arms around you to press your body to his tightly. You breathed in his scent of leather and smoke, hands crawling up and down his back and shoulders to memorize every ridge and groove of his muscled body.

Slowly, you began rocking your hips against his. Grind yourself against him until you felt a hardness so long it almost frightened you grow under the fabric of his trousers.

He was so warm; his body was like a furnace. Radiating heat that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket as his hands stationed themselves on the swell of your hips and guided your movements.

"Sweetling" His voice was a growl, so different from the way Cersei's sweet voice taunted you. This was a rumble, deep and heavy, "Fuck, keep doing that, and we won't even make it to the bed."

You whined but stopped obediently, allowing his hands to peel you off his lap and standing you on your own two feet.

"Good Girl." He smirked, eyes scanning you like a search light. "You have two choices, either you strip for me yourself, or I tear those clothes off of you. Your choice."

Gods did you want the second one, but you only had three dresses to your name so instead you began to strip at an achingly slow pace, tightening the spring both in both your bodies and knowing it would make it feel that much better when it snapped.

"That's it, nice and slow" Sandor's hand slowly cupped his hardening cock through his pants as he took in the sight of your body, the other hand working to take off his belt and loosen his strings. "Now, come here."

You obeyed, instinctively getting on your knees as you settled between his thighs. You purred hungrily, rubbing your face along the inside of his thigh and nestling your mouth over the imprint of his cock but waiting patiently for him to give permission to fully take him.

A growl formed in his throat like rolling thunder, his hand finding your hair and struggling not to press you down harder.

"Please," You whimpered, trying to seem as appealing as possible.

Sandor chuckled darkly at that. "Please what?"

"Please let me take your cock out." You persisted, "We've waited long enough for each other. Please don't tease me, Sandor."

The sound of your voice whining out his name, begging for him, made the Hound harder than he's ever been.

"Whatever you want."

That was all the permission you needed, quickly clawing past his small clothes and slipping the large, warm head of his cock down your throat.

You reveled at that sounds you managed to coax out of him, having caught him off guard and unprepared for how eager you'd become. His grip on your hair had become painful, so you gently urged it down to the back of your neck, allowing him to scruff you like one does a pup and guide your head up and down.

"Gods" He choked out as you took his deeper.

You knew he was too long for you to take fully, and so pumped the remainder of his length with your hand, allowing your other hand to wander between your legs.

The way your moans vibrated around him almost sent the hound over the edge, knuckled white from gripping the arm of the chair her found himself unexpectedly trapped in.

"Fuck, Fuck!" Sandor didn't usually finish quickly, but the look in your eyes as you swallowed his load told him that had been exactly what you wanted.

Breathing heavily, he tried to catch his breath as you climbed back onto his lap, cunt down drenched and dripping from touching yourself for him.

"Darling" You cooed into his ears, "I haven't worn you out too quickly, have I?"

"Fuck that." Sandor growled, grip tightening around you. "You're not getting off that easily, you evil little minx."

"Good" You grinned, kissing a line up his neck along the scared half of his face, "Because I'm not stopping until we're both half dead and sure you've fucked an heir into me."

Sandor rumbled, snatching you off his lap and throwing you over his shoulder. You laughed at this, kicking your legs eagerly as he delivered you onto the bed and pinned you under his weight.

"Your precious twins told me what a sweet girl you are." He taunted you, pinning your wrists by your head. "How trusting and innocent"

He ducked his head down to take a nipple into his mouth. The heat of his tongue and the gentle pressure of his teeth making your back arch and press your breast firmer against his face. Your moans came in sharp, quick gasps as one hand released your wrist in favor of massaging the other breast with rough, calloused palms. Your freed hand flew to his hair, gripping it tightly as you cried out.

"Do they know?" He pressed, scrapping his teeth over your tit before switching to the other side, "What an eager little slut you are? How happy you were to hop into bed with me?"

You wanted to shake your head, but in truth you weren't sure if he was actually expecting an answer. Instead, you tried to move your mind away from them and onto your husband.

"I don't want to talk about them" You confessed, "Oh fuck, just like that, Darling."

Sandor hummed thoughtfully at this.

"You don't want to think of them?"

"No."

"No?" Sandor, shifted upwards and turned his attention from your breasts to your neck, sucking so hard it would surely bruise. He rubbed the length of his cock up and down your slit teasingly.

"Then how about I fuck you so hard, you forget their names? Would you like that, sweetling?"

Your moan came out as a growl as you clawed at his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on top of you.

"Answer me."

"Yes" you begged, "Gods, Sandor I can't take much more waiting."

And you didn't have to. Sandor's knees began to push your legs apart as he lifted up enough to strip off his shirt and trousers.

He was large, larger than you had previously taken and your hesitance must have shown on your face, because instead of crawling back on top of you like he planned, he instead rolled over so you were on top straddling him.

The tip went in easy enough, but his cock grew girthier as you slid down, and by halfway you found yourself panting.

"Easy" He hushed you, "Go slowly."

You nodded, carefully bouncing on what you could take so far. It was far more filling than any you'd taken before, and it was as if something inside of you shifted with each little bit you took.

"Fuck' You whimpered; eye twisted closed in focus "I'm not sure it'll fit."

Rough fingers found your clit, shocking your eyes open as it rolled and pressed against the sensitive bundle.

"Ah" You gasped, instinctively rolling your hips and rocking to the tempo. "Oh Gods,"

"That's it" Sandor breathed, watching as a bit more of his length sank deeper into your cunt, "just relax and take it like I know you can."

Your core began to tighten as his fingers pressed harder and his other hand began to guide you in sliding up and down the length of his cock, taking it a little deeper each time.

"Good girl, sweet girl" Sandor's breath was getting heavier, closing his eyes to focus and to push his release off as long as possible. "Just like that, fuck."

After thinking you had grown accustomed to his size, you bounced a little harder and cried out in shock. Sandor's cock filled you to the hilt, your hips pressed together as close as possible.

"Sh, sh." Sandor wrapped one arm around your waist and one round your shoulders, shifting into a sitting position while still buried deep inside of you. "Breathe, just breathe."

"Fuck" You gripped his broad shoulders, "it's. deep" you spoke between gasps.

"Do you want to stop?"

"No." You shook your head. "No, I just need a minute."

Sandor didn't protest, instead focusing on the shifting and pulsing walls wrapped around his cock, desperately attempting to accommodate him.

"Look at me." He breathed.

You obeyed, leaning back to face him fully.

It was a level of intimacy you had never experienced before, or even thought possible. Him being buried so deeply inside of you as you straddled his hips. Chest to chest, both breathing heavily.

You looked him in the eye, frowning for a moment before reaching up to brush away the shaggy hair that hung over the scarred half of his face.

"There you are" You whispered playfully, trying to break the tension enough to relax.

"Gods" Sandor breathed, "You look beautiful like this."

Entwining your fingers behind his neck, you rocked your hips slowly, not allowing his length to withdraw entirely before rocking back as before.

This time you kept him nestled deep inside of you as you panted and ground against him. The friction reached your clit, sending lightening through your hips and urging you forward.

Sandor groaned, feeling you clench around him as you chased your high. Your hands tangled in his hair and pressed his face to yours, catching his lips and exploring each other's mouths with curious tongues and eager lips.

"Fuck" you squealed into his ear, locking your arms around his neck. "I'm so close. So close, please. Gods, ah"

Your words came as nearly incoherent ramblings, hips bucking and grinding against him desperately until a flood of pleasure filled you.

It wasn't like with Cersei, or with Jaime. They had been fast, and brutal. Their pleasure came like a bolt of lightning hitting the back of the skull.

This pleasure came like a flash flood, filling you quickly and lingering as your muscles spasmed and tenses in an unknown rhythm. It ebbed away slowly but left you warm and glowing.

When Sandor realized you were cumming, he allowed himself to release deeply inside of you, flooding your womb with his seed and a heat that filled your stomach.

As the flood ebbed away, the two of you sat there, still connected and not wanting to separate.

"I want to stay like this." you begged him in a whisper he couldn't bear to deny. "Please."

Nodding, he pulled the blanket that had fallen half off the bed over the two of you as you leaned on his chest, your chin resting on his shoulder. Neither of you spoke, only lulling each other into sleep with gentle touches and heavy breathing.

[princesssszzzz]

Fire and Ice

Pairing: Baegan | Cregan x Baela

Summary: Princess Baela goes to Winterfell to visit Lord Cregan Stark. Things get hot and things get cold. Inspired by my intense hatred for Alyn. My Targaryen/Stark ship with some smut Read on a03

The snow crunched loudly under Baela’s boots. She’d just arrived at Wintertown on Moondancer and didn’t care how wild her curls looked. She knew they didn’t appreciate foreigners on their land and she beamed proudly, knowing there was nothing they could do about it. Their Lord loved her and that’s all that mattered.

They continued to stare at her, eyes going straight to the silver hair they’d never seen before. Baela’s cheeks felt crisp, and she knew they were red. The cold was bitter, but she moved on. She could see Cregan lifting his head, trying to get a peek at her. He was eager to see his Princess once again and apparently wasn’t patient enough to wait until he was given permission. The rest of his people stayed bowing behind him, following suit of the Warden of the North.

Baela smiled, knowing this testy wild man would be a great entertainment for her. She hasn’t visited before, having been busy with her duties at Driftmark. The man she knew as a legitimized bastard in many ways held her by political marriage, but Cregan had her heart and body. Every chance they got they devoured each other in King’s Landing, but this was her first time in Winterfell. She motioned her hand for Cregan to stand and thought about how Jace never invited her there.

She was grateful for it now. The place looked grey and uncomfortable, and the worst had to be the gawking she was receiving. Cregan stood and smirked, looking Baela up and down before he spoke.

“Princess, Winterfell is yours.” He nodded his head and Baela responded by walking past him and towards the entrance of the castle.

She knew from her reaction that Cregan was aware of her mood. Baela wanted him. She didn’t have to turn around to know he was following her grinning. She then grew a grin of her own, seeing the Northerners offended that she didn’t acknowledge them.

Jace was always nice to her. They went from friends to lovers early in their betrothal, but Cregan was different. Baela would have hated to admit it aloud, but Jace was a boy and Cregan was a man. His cold touch felt different. Instead of the soft gentle hands she’d grown used to, Cregan grabbed her roughly and intensely. That’s exactly what she wanted, and it was no secret to anyone the willful girl went after her desires. She waltzed through the courtyard of Winterfell and into the castle, casually looking at the wolf sigils plastered on the walls.

The black fur of Cregan’s cloak brushed against Baela’s legs, and the tall man stood in front of her and blocked her. She glanced up, admiring his dark hair and fierce gaze looking down at her. The same look he’s been giving her since the day they met. Always one for being difficult, Baela cocked her head and raised one eyebrow.

“Lord Stark, are you not allowing me to explore your home?” Batting her lashes and feigning offense, she brought one hand up to clutch her chest.

Cregan got straight to the point of her visit, skipping the obvious foreplay Baela wanted to engage in. His cock strained against his pants, and he couldn’t take it anymore—the friction, the anticipation, Baela.

He raised one brow to match her expression. “Follow me to my bedchambers.” It was more of a command than a request, and Baela marched behind him.

“Gods, this place is glum. You should be on your knees thankful that I'm here to bring the glow that is me.” Baela had been sitting on his bed ranting about Winterfell for 10 minutes, waiting for her molten wax to heat up. As much as she wanted to go outside and let Moondancer heat it, she didn’t want to accidently kill Cregan or give away to outsiders what they were up to.

It was a secret of theirs, and they understood it was unusual. The Targaryen girl loved his ice. The Stark man loved her fire. So much so, that it was eventually apart of their sex life. Cregan picked up the tongs, grabbing the last piece of ice that he cut before throwing it into the pile.

“Alright, that’s all of it.” He took a moment to appreciate her beauty, loving how her silver hair framed her face. To Cregan, Baela’s firm demeanor was always a contrast to how she looked. He was used to bigger women before he met her, fighting with large men before he had the pleasure of caressing Baela. But this curly headed girl, she was only brash with her mouth and behavior. Her body was lean, fit, and flawless. Baela was a Valyrian beauty. A nice opposition to his Northern appearance. He looked rough, beard dark brown and body muscular and firm.

Baela stood up smiling, presenting the hot liquid wax for Cregan to inspect. It was heated and almost glowing, and Cregan looked pleased before removing his clothes and sitting in his large chair wrapped in wolf’s fur. He motioned for Baela to join him, and she did, taking off her own reddish teal dress before straddling him.

This is how they always did it since lying in bed was too boring. Cregan immediately grabbed her hips, and she stopped him with a finger.

“Be patient now.” She loved to taunt him, using one hand to rub up and down his hair covered chest.

Baela knew exactly how he would react and grinned when he grabbed her hips tighter, pulling her slickness over him.

“No, I’ve done enough waiting. I haven’t seen you in too long.” Cregan sank her onto his hardness, leaning his head back with a groan. They could be as loud as they wanted to be here. They weren’t in King’s Landing where they had to have a modicum of decency. They weren’t in Driftmark where she had to hide her own infidelity from her cheating husband. Here in Winterfell, the dragon and the wolf could roar thunderously.

Baela let out a whimper, steading herself to take his large member by grabbing his shoulder with one hand. With the other, she reached to her left to grab her wax and she saw Cregan reaching to his right. He picked up one cube of ice when she picked up the wax and they both smiled at each other.

This was their favorite part, the severe pleasure they already felt got taken up a notch with what they called their ‘inclusions.” Even amid fucking, they wanted to represent their houses well.

Baela felt the cold of his ice on her nipple and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe he would start without her and jumped to tilting the goblet of wax on him. When it finally touched his chest, steam rose and all she could hear was beastly groans. Cregan moving his hips let out a deep breath, reaching behind to grab Baela’s curls and pulled.

She couldn’t see what he was doing but felt the cold of his ice taken off her breast and went to her exposed neck. Baela hopped, partly in shock from the ice on her warm skin and partly from Cregan’s sudden erratic thrusting. The burning on his body must have lit a fire in him, and here he was trying to cool her down and jolt her with a chill.

“It’s scorching, isn't it?” A deep voiced chuckle is all Baela could hear.

She still couldn’t see him, slightly wincing from the firm grip on her hair. Baela stared at the ceiling, twisting her laugh to a moan when the melted ice dripped down her body and lead to her clit. As much as she wanted to react to the extreme temperature, she was too proud to give Cregan satisfaction. Instead, she lowered her head when his grip eased up and moaned before pouring more wax onto him.

Riding Cregan was a pleasure, but staring into his eyes was another thing. Baela loved the thrill of confrontation from locking eyes with him. It brought her back to when she stopped him from killing men, and all he could do is stare and break into a smile. His black hair was sticking to his skin now, the heat from both Baela and the wax making him sweat.

“Come on wolf boy, don’t you have anything to say? Can’t handle the heat?” Baela smiled, knowing the man was close from his ragged breathing.

A gleam shot in Cregan’s eyes, and he looked at Baela suspiciously before reaching over and grabbing another ice cube. Grinding on him, she watched curiously as he put the cube in his mouth and wet it while staring directly at her. She wanted to be a brat, to keep provoking him but was too entranced by his gaze to say anything else.

Pulling the ice cube out, he smiled smugly before reaching down and pressing the ice on her clit.

“Stay still.” In his gravelly voice he knew she wouldn’t, but he always loved giving direction. The wild Baela never listened and especially not when they were like this. She let out a high-pitched scream and Cregan wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her on him. His rough and aggressive hands roamed Baela’s smooth back, another contrast of theirs that she loved but she couldn’t focus on that.

Thinking the cold would ruin her and take her out of the mood, she was shocked to find herself even closer to her climax. Both of their grunts only grew louder, and they were sure the Northerners were doing what they could to figure out what was going on with the Lord of Winterfell and Princess Baela, the Lady of Driftmark.

She gave up trying to jump out of his arms since he was too strong and leaned into his body instead. Only muffled incomplete words left her full lips. Instead. Baela’s mind was too frazzled to let her speak words. He eased off a little pressure from the ice and met her for a forceful kiss. Every kiss from him was passionate and intense, nothing cold that she expected from this man. Cregan sounded like a howl came from him when he released inside of her, pulling away from her to breath and feeling Baela squeezing around him.

Both of their bodies moved fluidly and predictably, their orgasms split whatever stability they had left. Numbness overtook their senses, and they had no idea how much time had passed when Cregan finally took away the ice and allowed her to lean back. Baela was breathing harshly, looking satisfied and reaching up to shake her untamable curls.

“That was good.” Afterwards, it was always calmer with them. Once they both got what they wanted, there was no need to act so feral. Baela smiled at Cregan, pulling herself from him and leaning back in to rest her head on his chest. Just like she expected, he reached around and grabbed a fur blanket, covering them both before relaxing himself. She thought about her younger sister always sending letters from Oldtown. The girl would always write stories similar to fairytales about Garmund, and even her first love Corwyn. To Baela they always sounded too good to be true, until Cregan came into her life.

He kissed her on the forehead and sighed. “I want you to stay here with me.”

Baela didn’t bother looking up. This wasn’t the first time he’s asked her to live with him and be his wife. But she had to give him the same answer she always did. She refused, this time by not answering him at all, instead handing over her list of reasonings. She tilted her head to give him a peck on his lips before cuddling back into him. He didn’t press on, letting it go for now and leaning back on the chair closing his.

The snoring coming from the dragon girl didn’t bother Cregan, and he thought it was cute. He chose to sit up all night, waiting for her to wake up and thinking of ways her husband could come to a mysterious end. When she grieved Alyn Velaryon, Cregan silently smiled to himself knowing he would be the shoulder Baela would come to cry on.