#Ramsay Bolton Drabble
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𝑀𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑀𝓎 𝐻𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹
Ramsay Bolton x fem! Reader
Content warning . Acts of manipulation, arranged marriage, Stockholme syndrome, nsfw. Reader is implied to be plus sized but perceive her however you want. 18+, MDNI !!
*. ੈ♡*ੈ⸝⋆
Ramsay Bolton was never someone you intended to love, but it wasn’t long after your arranged marriage that you started to fall for him.
As much as you hated to say it, the man had a specific… softness for you. You knew deep down that it was probably a manipulation tactic to make you more vulnerable towards him, but it was working like a charm, no matter how hard you tried to stop it. When you were both asleep in your chambers— see, he had had a room specifically designed for you to both sleep in the same bed— you would curl up onto his chest, sleepily smacking your lips and muttering a “g’night, Ramsay,” as you drifted off into slumber.
A slumber that you always felt safe in, for some strange reason.
Ramsay would only hum, his grip around your waist almost possessive even as you both slept. If you got too uncomfortable when staying in that position for too long, you would flip over. Ramsay would soon follow suit, his arm slinging itself over your waist, mumbling something like, “keep still, pup,” as he pulled you close against his chest. That was your routine every night after the first month, curled up in each other’s embrace.
During the day he would go hunting. You didn’t dare ask what he hunted for, though you had a vague suspicion. You didn’t mind the handmaidens gossiping around you so you could learn more about your husband, and so far, it wasn’t anything good. Not that there was anything good that you heard to begin with—It was no secret what Ramsay Bolton did behind closed doors. When he would come back from a hunt, he would be giddy, proud, caked in blood and gore, an almost violent smile on his face. You would smile back at him, glancing up with sweet eyes as he pulled you into his arms. He would kiss you hard on the mouth, hands traveling down to the hem of your dress— “Shouldn’t I get a reward for my hard work, lady wife?”— and then he would bend you over the nearest surface and make you cum on his cock for hours, ridding you of any apprehension or thought.
You didn’t mind these things. You were married, after all, and Ramsay Bolton was definitely skilled in a lot of aspects. This included playing your body like a violin, rubbing and licking and pushing in ways that made you squirm. He loved to be in between your thighs and eat your cunt like a man starved, or thrust his fingers into your needy hole until you were releasing messily all over his mouth. He’d bend you in half instead of over on a lot of nights, putting all his weight on top of you so you couldn’t move away from him.
So you couldn’t escape him.
There were hardships sometimes. Ramsay would be in a very angry mood, and you would do something very minor and it would upset him— he’d yell at you, call you names and laugh in your face when you began to cry, or he’d scream some more if you decided to snap back at him. But it was all because he was a blind person when he was angry; you didn’t try and judge him too harshly for that. He had a long fuse when it came to you, compared to the others.
Regardless, he would always return to you the night of the argument, covered in blood once again, with apologies on his tongue and a gift on occasion. Like the wolf pup he had gifted you on your twentieth name day— “A protector for when I’m not around. You look so perfect when you smile, my beautiful girl.”— or his head between your thighs. Whichever worked, really.
When he asked you to accompany him on a hunt one day, your eyebrows had raised in surprise. What could he have awaiting in those woods for you to shoot down with a bow and arrow? You wondered about it, and honestly dreamed of the day when you as a lady would have the freedom to learn the ways of hunting. But when you got there, there was no prey to be found.
None except you, of course.
It wasn’t as scary as it sounds. Ramsay had left his weapons behind, which you noticed once you got a decent way into the woods. Such a ditzy little thing you were, always in your own world and too far gone to even notice. Ramsay had told you to run, that you were both playing tag. When you were It, he had shoved you down onto the forest floor and lifted up your skirts, a growl evident in his throat as he claimed you.
“Mine.”
You had came back to the castle, shy, your dress’ bodice ripped from Ramsay’s rough manhandling. No one said a thing, and Ramsay gave you the reward of keeping his cock warm while you slept.
When you bathed, he loved to watch you. You never understood why, but you assumed it may have been some weird sort of intimacy that only Ramsay Bolton would want with his partner. He would sit in a seat reserved just for him, and he would watch your body sink into the water, bare breasts supple and soaped. He would watch the curve of your ear as you pushed your wet hair out of your eyes and the Cupid’s bow above your lip. Sometimes he loved to admire the thatch of hair between your legs, covering the place he loved most, or the soft tummy you had grown to have because he fed you good, hearty food.
Other times, he would listen to the tinkling of your laugh as he told you something that was funny. He would pass on his information of Philosophy and the fine arts which Roose had forced him to learn, and he would adore how excited you got when he taught you these things. It seemed like everytime, eyes wide with fascination, you would bloom, like a pretty orchid or a wild rose.
Ramsay swooned when you presented your psyche to him this way, but you never knew that unless he told you such.
One night he had even helped you bathe. He had gathered a sponge and a bar of soap, had asked quietly if he could do the work for you. You had been exhausted from the previous day and had nodded your head, sighing in content when he begun to gently rub the sponge over your back. He had ran it over your shoulders, arms, thighs, every nook and cranny just to watch the contortions of your form. He had washed you off, and with a soft voice as sweet as honey, began to speak.
“Do you trust me?”
You didn’t know how to reply to him, though you knew answer already.
“Yes.”
He had tilted his head, something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. He resumed his tasks, now moving on to massage your scalp with soft fingers. He had gently pushed your head under the water so he could rinse your hair, and his hands had held you under. Not forcefully, it seemed, but he wanted to.. keep you there. And you let him. Your body relaxed against the warmth of his hands and the waves, and it was then that you realized he could hurt you at any moment. Drown you, hold you under and water board you, beat your head against the tub until your brain splattered to mush.
But he didn’t. And as you stared at him, eyes wide through the water, watching his blue eyes staring back at you, you knew then that you were completely and utterly fucked.
You hated yourself for it, for this revelation that overcame you in that moment: You were basking in this man, in the complete darkness that was Ramsay Bolton. You didn’t know how or why it became this way, but you liked your husband, big and strong, there to keep you and hold you and gift you small trinkets and whisper sweet nothings. It was almost too much.
But that night, you curled up onto his chest anyway, like a kitten, purring in a soft lilt, “I love you, Ramsay.”
He had squeezed your hand tight, a small smile on his face. This is exactly what he wanted.
“I know you do, little dove.”
:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz
#Ramsay brainrot tbh even though i wish his death would’ve been slower and more painful ☹️#definition of too fine to be acting like that#Ramsay Bolton#Ramsay Bolton x reader#Ramsay Bolton x fem! reader#Ramsay Bolton x plus size! reader#Ramsay Bolton smut#Ramsay Bolton Drabble#Ramsay Bolton oneshot#Ramsay Bolton blurb#Ramsay Bolton fanfic#game of thrones#game of thrones fanfic#got#got fanfic#Ramsay got#dom! Ramsay Bolton#sub! reader#plus size! reader
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Blood of my blood
Pairing: Jon Snow x f!reader
Summary: The night before the Battle of Bastards, promises are exchanged between Jon and you. Inspired by an Outlander quote from Jamie Fraser. If you recognize it, you earn a cookie.
A/N: A small fluffy Jon Snow drabble, because I can't sleep. Very tooth-rotting romantic. You are warned.
"Where were you? I looked for you, over there."
You would have recognised that voice anywhere. Raspy, soft, deep. And low.
The cold was biting your cheeks, causing them to turn more pink than usual. As the last men were exiting Jon's tent, where the last war council was held, you realised that you had been standing there for way too long, staring into the nothingness, ghosts dancing across your eyes.
You slowly turned around to face Jon. His black curls were held backwards, making him look more and more like his father; not only in looks, but also in attitude. He looked tired, and worried. But a cold determination was glowing in his gaze.
His arms slowly came to surround you, pulling you towards him and his comforting figure. And suddenly, it seemed that the ghosts you were facing silently faded away.
"You're worried," Jon noticed.
A small sigh escaped your lips, and your hands came to rest on his shoulders, playing with edges of his armour.
"I only just got you back," you whispered, avoiding his eyes. "And... I mean, if anything were to happen--"
"(Y/N)", Jon cut you off.
A callous hand lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"You don't need to worry yourself sick about me. I've been through way, way worse."
The hint of a smile danced across his features.
"I will always come back. You should know that by now. Plus, there is only one thing you need to worry about."
One of his hands softly caressed your baby bump, almost invisible to the naked eye. You had told Jon a few days ago; and now, more than ever, it was like his actions to take back Winterfell from Ramsay had some kind of undergoing urgency.
He held you closer to him, and your head came to rest on his chest. You remained there for a few seconds, content in his embrace, breathing slowly.
"Promise me," you finally whispered. "Promise me that you will come back to me."
There was a moment of silence. But then, Jon pulled you away from him. His face looked serious and soft at the same time as he looked at you; like you were the moon of his life. The one and only thing that made sense.
"I can do better than that, love."
His harsh northern accent contrasted with the softness of his voice.
You frowned, and watched in disbelief as Jon suddenly got on one knee.
"Jon," you began, but he cut you off again.
"No, (Y/N). Let me do this, once and for all."
He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. Suddenly, Jon, your childhood love, the one you had lost and found again, looked desperate.
"I don't have anything to offer you, (Y/N). I have no lands, no titles. But I know this. When I'm with you, I am no longer this commander everyone expects me to be. I am just a boy in love, all over again."
Jon stood up again, and grabbed both of your hands.
"You are the blood of my blood, bone of my bone. I gave you my body and you gave me yours, so that we could become one. So, please. If I win this, be mine. Marry me."
Your heart grew bigger in your chest, as if it was about to burst. Burst for this sweet and devoted man in front of you.
Your vision blurried, and you nearly threw yourself in his arms.
"Oh, Jon..."
You closed your eyes and held him tight.
"You are worth all of these things, and more even. I love you. Yes, I will marry you."
Ramsay Bolton would not live to see another night on this earth.
Somewhere in the dead of night, Jon made an oath to himself.
#got imagines#jon snow imagines#jon snow x reader#jon snow drabble#game of thrones#jon snow one shot#jon snow x f!reader
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Kinktober 2023 List
Welcome to my first ever kinktober, a month long of smutty drabbles and one shots. Hope you all enjoy and if you want added to a charecter/fandom tag list so you dont miss anything let me know <3
NSFW under cut
Masterlist Here
Day one: discrete fun with Robb Stark – deciding to take his teasing to a new level Robb decides to take the sex toys out of the bedroom
Day two: marking with Jace Velaryon – jealous is an understatement for what Jace is feeling so he decides to fix his problems by showing everyone who you belong to
Day three: phone sex with Jamie Tartt – even though he loved to play the long nights away from you were almost impossible to bare so he often found himself hitting call at late hours of the night
Day four: body worship with Podrick Payne – Podrick feels honoured just to be able to touch your body and wants you to hear his praises
Day five: role reversal with James Potter – James is used to being in charge, but things change when one night you decide to give him a taste of his own teasing medicine
Day six: over stimulation with Jon Snow – Jon is eager to please but even more eager to make you a mumbling mess who doesn’t know their own name by the end
Day seven: stepcest/cam girl au with Daemon Targaryen – after Daemons new stepdaughter moves in daemon finds out her naughty little secret
Day eight: dubcon kidnap au with Ramsay Bolton – Ramsay can’t stand the idea of such a pretty creature going unappreciated any longer
Day nine: edging/orgasm denial with Rhanerya Targaryen – since you’re used to get everything you want Rhaenyra decides to show you good things come to those who wait
Day ten: throne/semi public sex with Danerys Targaryen – being the queen is a stressful job and it is your job to help your queen relax even if that means risking getting caught
Day eleven: knife play with Ivar the Boneless – people whisper and wonder how someone so sweet could marry someone so angry, but they don’t see what Ivar does when you’re underneath him
Day twelve: exhibitionism with Tormund – while wildlings talk freely about sex Tormund enjoys watching your blush at even the mention of it making it even more fun to tease you when you come to tend to his wounds
Day thirteen: primal play with Remus Lupin – usually when Remus runs around the forest its not by choice but tonight, he is chasing his favourite prey
Day fourteen: sex toys and teasing with Sansa Stark – after finding a sleek pink vibrator in her top drawer you decide to see what it can really do
Day fifteen: voyeurism with Aegon Targaryen – while you are visiting his family Aegon discovers a secret passage and what he accidentally sees through the cracks makes him want you instantly
Day sixteen: caught in the act with Roy Kent – when Roy came home all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you but when he heard a buzzing from under the sheets his plans took a very different turn
Day seventeen: mommy kink with Cersei Lannister – while she may be rough and callous to most others Cersei finds herself dotting on her sweet girl in her chambers each night
Day eighteen: corruption kink with Alicent Hightower – a new septa arrive at court but none of the thoughts on Alicent’s minds are holy
Day nineteen: choking with Bjorn Ironside – you may have been captured by the enemies, but the punishment Bjorn gives you is starting to feel like a reward
Day twenty: bondage/wax play with Margaery Tyrell: people may whisper about her brother’s bedroom habits but none of them see the things she gets up to with her ladies’ maid
Day twenty-one: face fucking with Cregan Stark: to gain his loyalty Cregan demands that you earn it, and he enjoys watching the tears streak down your face as you do
Day twenty-two: daddy kink with Sirius Black – the word just slipped out one time but now it’s all Sirius wants to hear from your lips
Day twenty-three: brat taming with Sandor Clegane – after growing sick of a princess’s bratty attitude Sandor decides to teach her how to behave
Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel
Day twenty-five: breeding kink with Ned Stark – there is a reason why Ned has so many children and it’s not as noble as many assume
Day twenty-six: collaring with Aemond Targaryen – not wanting to share Aemond decides to invest in something to show that you’ll always be his and only his
Day twenty-seven: double penetration with Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent: they both like you and when they came to settle it once and for all neither of them expected this out come
Day twenty-eight: mutual masturbation with Oberyn Martell – you always heard that the dornish were more sex positive than most, but you hadn’t expected Oberyn Martell of all people to show you just how good it could feel
Day twenty-nine: face riding with Heleana Targaryen – while Heleana appeared shy outside of your chambers when you, her maid, came to tend to her at night she was anything but shy
Day thirty: teacher student au with Jamie Lannister – he knew it was wrong to ask you to stay after class but after one too many short, short skirts he could no longer keep his thoughts at bay
Day thirty-one: orgy/group sex with Aegon, Aemond, Jace, Daemon, and Rhaenyra since after all sharing is caring
#game of thrones smut#robb stark smut#jon snow smut#ramsay bolton smut#sansa stark smut#danerys targaryen smut#ned stark smut#sandor clegan smut#tormund smut#jamie lannister smut#cersei lannister smut#house of the dragon smut#aemond targaryen smut#aegon targaryen smut#daemon targaryen smut#rhaneyra targaryen smut#alicent hightower smut#jace velaryon smut#ted lasso smut#roy kent smut#jamie tartt smut#bjorn smut#ragnar lothbrok smut#ivar the boneless smut#vikings smut#mauraders smut#james potter smut#sirius black smut#remus lupin smut
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Dark GOT Masterlist
Be aware that these are fiction works made for entertainment purposes. It includes yandere behaviours and several triggers so make sure to READ THE WARNINGS at the beginning.
I do not support any of these toxic behaviours.
Reader is always female.
GIF IMAGINES
Ramsay Bolton
▶ When you escape away him
▶ Manipulating you into loving him back
▶ You break his rules
Robb Stark
▶ Finding out you like Jon
▶ You like another man
Viserys III Targaryen
▶ Falling in love with you
DRABBLES
▶ Safe and Sound - (Robb Stark) Your husband is a rather protective man. (Toxic Marriage)
▶ Decisions - (Ramsay Bolton) Lesson number 1: never trust Ramsay Bolton. (Murder)
▶ Unlucky - (Ramsay Bolton) Sadly you lose your baby. But what’s even worse is that it’s Ramsay’s baby. (Miscarriage; Violence; Abusive Marriage)
▶ Mine Till Death - (Ramsay Bolton) Ramsay won’t just stand and watch as you get promised to another. (Kidnapping; Implied future Forced Marriage)
▶ Slave - (Viserys III Targaryen) Your job is to obey orders, even if they are wicked ones. (Noncon (blowjob); Power Abuse)
SCENARIOS
▶ Him as a husband (Robb Stark) - (Toxic Marriage)
BEING THE TYPE TO
▶ Ramsay being the type of husband that makes you wear a chastity belt when he’s away from you.
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→ VERMITHORN'S 500 MILESTONE EVENT !
hello! <3 thank you so much for reading and supporting my work! y’all don’t know how happy it makes me when you reblog and comment hehe. i’m very proud of this epic milestone so i wanted to celebrate ≧^◡^≦ english isn’t my first language so having a little platform to show my writing means the world to me !
,,what are we doing?
i don't want to do full-length fics or long one-shots because god help me i cannot, so i'm going to do little drabbles of a character + a kink/fetish of your choice !
,,what characters can i request?
hotd. aemond targaryen, aegon ii targaryen, daemon targaryen, cregan stark, jacaerys velaryon, harwin strong. got. robin arryn, ramsay bolton. others. osferth.
,,what kink/fetish can i request?
→ i'll leave that to you, but here's a list if you need help choosing (it's a website with 200+ kinks/fetishes explaining them).
but a few i like to write: breath play, spitting, pegging, mommy kink, + to be added.
,,what i cannot request?
→ scat/vomit, feet, age play. and some other kinks/fetishes i cannot remember at the moment but i’ll let y’all know !
i do not write male!reader, please refer to my guidelines.
,,a little message !
i invite all of you to participate in my little event, i’m so happy to be part of this community and i would love to give some,, little gifts hehe !
* FINISHED REQUESTS:
aemond + mommy kink
osferth + anal
aemond + pegging
aegon ii + degradation
WIPS !
tagging a few mutuals to spread the word (and if you want to participate, even better hehe. also i hope i don’t bother y’all with this! besos <3)
@vhagarlovebot @aemondryvers @taranthese @jacaerysthinker @sapphire-writes @valeskafics @targaryenbrainrot @aemondsversion @aemondsmoon @aemonds-princeregent @ichorai @ilikeitbetterangsty @fairysluna @inthedayswhenlandswerefew @helaenistic @starkskeep @aegon-fanfics @bornbetter @chrispumpkin @lovelykhaleesiii @arcielee @f4ll-for-you @aemvnd @oneeyedvisenya @marthawrites @theold-ultraviolence @jasonsmirrorball @gothtargaryen @babygirlyofthevale @xfancyuu ≧'◡'≦
#vermithorn#vermithorn's 500 milestone event !#<3#very excited for this#please send in your requests :-)
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Drabble/Short Oneshot Requests
So, have been holding back on doing this because I still do have a oneshot req I need to complete, and so many WIPs it's outlandish. That being said, right now, since I'm reconditioning myself to write, it's very difficult for me to tackle those projects and get even a sentence in them at a time. So I'm sort of asking for your help in this in my theory that drabbles are a good medium and that they might help me get used to properly writing.
I'm currently comfortable writing MxF, FxF, and of course platonic relations. I tend to write angst or dark fics so nothing is off limits with me, but if you want to send in something fluffy I can try my best! Anything smutty will likely not be too "in-depth" given the length of drabbles.
I will most likely do these x reader and 2nd person unless otherwise specified.
You can send in:
A GIF or picture prompt
A written prompt (use any but I do have some good angst I found)
A lyric or song + character
A description of what you'd like if the request is more specific (though keep in mind I will be keeping these short)
Fandoms & Characters below!
- Peaky Blinders -
Tommy Shelby
Arthur Shelby
John Shelby
Polly Gray
Michael Gray
Alfie Solomons
Tatiana Petrovna
Luca Changretta
Aberama Gold
- Game of Thrones -
(since I'm not far in this there are only a couple characters that I feel confident writing for as of yet, since I know their spoilers updated)
(underage characters will be aged up if the request is sexual)
Petyr Baelish
Daenerys Targaryen
Jaimee Lannister
Cersei Lannister
Tyrion Lannister
Jorah Mormont
Viserys III Targaryen
Jon Snow
Sansa Stark
Arya Stark
Robb Stark
Catelyn Tully/Stark
Tommen Baratheon
Stannis Baratheon
Ramsay Snow/Bolton
Theon Greyjoy
Yara Greyjoy
Margaery Tyrell
Bronn
Brienne
Melisandre
- Adrien Characters -
* ones I am more picky with because I have full stories planned out for them, so I might not do the request or might use my OC for said story depending on how the inspiration goes
Henry Barthes (Detachment)
*Jack Driscoll (King Kong)
Clive Nicoli (Splice)
*Dmitri (The Grand Budapest Hotel)
*Peter Whitman (The Darjeeling Limited)
Jack Starks (The Jacket)
Leo Kopernick (See How They Run)
Frankie (American Heist)
Bloom (The Brothers Bloom)
Jack Grace (Love the Hard Way)
Steven (Dummy)
Harry (Oxygen)
Charles Boone (Chapelwaite)
- Aidan Characters -
If you ask me to write an Aidan Gillen character that isn't on this list, odds are I will say yes, lol. I may just have to watch whatever the character is in because I've not seen much with him... yet.
- Far Cry 5 -
Jacob Seed
John Seed
Joseph Seed
Faith Seed
#oneshots#blurbs#blurb requests#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders fanfic#game of thrones#game of thrones fanfic#far cry 5#far cry 5 fanfic#tommy shelby#john shelby#arthur shelby#michael gray#alfie solomons#polly gray#aberama gold#tatiana petrovna#luca changretta#petyr baelish#daenerys targaryen#adrien brody#aidan gillen#faith seed#jacob seed#john seed#joseph seed
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CHARACTER LIST/RULES
WHAT I’LL WRITE:
nsfw and sfw
any (insert race/ethnicity/particular thing) for reader
any gender pronouns/identity
that wonderful polyamory stuff
yandere/darker material
WHAT I WON’T WRITE:
pedophilia
rape
scat/watersport/spitting
character match-ups
HOTD CHARACTERS:
alicent hightower
daemon targaryen
aemond targaryen
rhaenyra targaryen
+ feel free to request new characters but be patient because i have to get a feel for them first | also be nice if i outright say no
GOT CHARACTERS:
tyrion lannister
daenerys targaryen
jon snow
jamie lannister
the hound
petyr baelish
cersei lannister
robb stark
+ feel free to request new characters but be patient because i have to get a feel for them first | also be nice if i outright say no
I DO NOT WRITE FOR:
lucerys velaryon
jacaerys velaryon
aegon II targaryen
otto hightower
viserys I targaryen
roose bolton
ramsay bolton
theon greyjoy
tywin lannister
+ please don't ask for these characters or make me say why i'm saying no to these characters, no is a full sentence :)
i do headcanons, drabbles and scenarios. specify which you’d like when you send your request or i’ll wind up picking for you.
for headcanons you can request up to FOUR characters per ask. you can, of course, send the same request for a different character.
vague requests are EXTREMELY LOW priority and i probably won’t answer/write them at all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (example: aemond targaryen x gender neutral reader).
more detailed requests encouraged (example: jon snow x reader and how they make up after a fight)
my name is BEE and i'm crazy enough to want to have a fun/peaceful time writing house of the dragon and game of thrones imagines. please pray for me as i enter THE discourse fandoms of the eon.
like my blog? my cashapp and kofi are both slasherscream
#bee talks#rules#hotd imagine#hotd x reader#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones x reader#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon imagine
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Maybe Ramsay Bolton with the prompt "snow sledding as a couple"? The possibilities are endless, thank you💫
I have cuteness in mind.
Ramsay was not a very nice person. Everyone knew that. You were the exception simply because he was trying to woo you. He took notes on your likes and dislikes and did his best to give you exactly what you wanted. That was how he found himself standing atop a rather steep hill with you by his side, bouncing on the balls of your feet.
He arched a brow at you, making you laugh. "You've seriously never been sledding? Not even as a kid?" Ramsay shook his head and you sighed. "That's going to change." The look of pure indignation on his face made you laugh once more.
"I'm serious. You and I are going sledding." Without giving himma chance to reply, you grabbed his hand and pulled him after you. You had been fortunate enough to find a sled in the kennels so you didn't have to go far.
You pushed gently on Ramsay's shoulders to get him to sit before moving to sit in front of him. As if on instinct, Ramsay's arm wrapped around you. You leaned into him with a sigh. But just Ramsay was about to get comfortable, you reached down and pushed the sled from the top of the hill.
Your delighted shriek could probably be heard for miles and Ramsay found himself staring at the pure joy in your expression as the cold air whipped across your face. Somehow that was enough for Ramsay to decide that maybe sledding wasn't so bad.
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Rammy (Ramsay x Reader)
(Gif credit to owner)
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Character: Ramsay Bolton
Persona: Female
Word Count: 330
Request: What about a Ramasy Bolton imagine where reader has a special nickname for him? Something stupid like Ramram or Rammy, maybe? Cyte and fluffy though, where he starts to get agitated by it? Please? (°^°♡♡
A/N - For @amazingcarrotsanddasterdlypears <3
He thought it was a one off, just something you’d soon get over so he wasn’t too bothered by it. You’d called him worse in your time together, he’d reason with himself, (although he did feel a little bit of an irking every time you’d tease him).
It was when you were walking together around the Dreadfort grounds, your arms linked through his much bigger, stronger one. Ramsay kept one hand on your arm at all times in an act of possessiveness, he subconsciously tightened his grip when the eye’s of passerby's would linger on you. You didn’t mind, you thought it was funny.
“Something wrong...Rammy?”.
Ramsay’s jaw clenched as soon as the nickname left your lips. He could already feel the stares of the surrounding populace smirking, suppressing their laughs. Ramsay loved you dearly but he couldn’t have you demeaning his authority like that.
“What have I told you about that?”, he snapped viciously dropping your arm, the air became cold and it wasn’t because of the North’s biting winds. You looked up at him as his blue eyes stared daggers back down at you, “I shouldn’t call you that”, you fluttered your eyelashes and put on your best puppy eyes, you even added “My Lord”, as an extra suck up. It was working as you saw his eyes soften although the rest of him stayed intimidating. “Exactly, which is why if you keep using it I will have to punish you”, Ramsay announced incredibly loud, making sure everyone heard. It seemed to do the trick as the surrounding people went back to their daily tasks.
You quickly reached out for his arm, rushing back to his side again. Ramsay let you do it though, quickly he restarted his walk around the Dreadfort again.
As you were walking you waited until Ramsay stopped to inspect a market stall; you started to lean up to his ear, mischief written across your features, “I’ll await my punishment in our bedroom, Rammy”.
#drabble friday#drabbles#game of thrones#GoT#game of thrones fanfic#GoT fanfic#ramsay snow#ramsay bolton#ramsay bolton fanfic#ramsay x reader#ramsay bolton x reader#reader insert#female reader#reader x ramsay#reader x ramsay bolton#ramsay snow x reader#house bolton#house stark
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Further on up the Road
Song
words: 614
Summary: Death & Mercy
He stopped in front of the group, slightly breathless. “Where is he?”
Ben sighed and nodded at the warehouse door behind him.
Ramsay pushed the others aside, throwing the door open, stomach turning over slightly. The warehouse was mostly empty. A few crates here and there. And in the middle of the room, lay Damon. He looked like he was bleeding profusely if the liquid on the ground around him was any indicator. He stirred slightly as the door closed heavily behind Ramsay.
“Rams, that you?” Damon asked quietly trying to lift up his head.
“Yeah, Dame. It’s me.” Ramsay said slowly, shoes echoing loudly off the cold concrete floor. He knelt down beside Damon, looking at the bloody mess he was. His oldest friend, the only person he would have ever considered more than disposable and worthless. Now a broken and bloody mess. On his final hour. The only person who ever took the time to really understand Ramsay, and never try to change him.
“I been tryna wait on you.” Damon said, swallowing thickly through the blood.
“I know man. I know. I’m here now.” Ramsay said. Dropping to his knees completely.
“I’m already dead.” Damon whispered, looking up at Ramsay through glassy eyes.
Ramsay simply nodded, digging in his pocket and pulling out the handful of bullets. The bullets he carried on him at all times. Each one with the name of one of the Boys.
“Got on my dead man's suit and my smilin' skull ring. My lucky graveyard boots and song to sing. I got a song to sing, keep me out of the cold. And I'll meet you further on up the road.” Damon sang through harsh breathing, eyes watching Ramsay.
Ramsay sighed, pulling out his revolver, and emptying the chamber of all the bullets it had in it. He set one of the bullets from his pocket aside, pocketing the rest and sliding the one bullet in its chamber. He made an odd noise in the back of his throat, blinking a couple times. “Oh, man, this is like shooting my dog.”
“Long as I was your favorite dog.” Damon chuckled with a deep grimace, choking on his blood.
Ramsay gave a half smirk. “Always my favorite.” He placed his hand to Damon’s bloody cheek, pulling his head closer to him, as he sat on his ass completely. Damon was pale and covered in a cold sweat and gave Ramsay an empty sort of feeling. It was an odd thing to put into words for him. Never imagining he would actually care. He was amazed that Damon was still alive at this point. It had felt like a million years getting across town to this warehouse of death.
Damon moved his hand to Ramsay’s at his cheek and gave a small squeeze. “Don’t leave me hangin’.”
Ramsay cleared his throat, another noncommittal noise in his throat. He took a deep breath, setting the gun down and pulling Damon’s head into his lap. “Now I been out in the desert, just doin' my time. Searchin' through the dust, lookin' for a sign. If there's a light up ahead, well brother I don't know. But I got this fever burnin' in my soul. And I'll meet you further on up the road.” He sang quietly, stroking Damon’s bloody, matted hair.
Together they took a deep breath and continued as one, “One sunny mornin' we'll rise I know. And I'll meet you further on up the road.”
Ramsay gently laid Damon’s head onto the concrete, picked up the gun, and placed the barrel between Damon’s eyes.
Damon closed his eyes, letting out a final sigh as Ramsay pulled the trigger.
#ramsay bolton imagine#death#mercy#the monster has feels#damon dance for me#the bastard's boys#kee_theyoungwolf#kee-theyoungwolf#quick drabble#Ramsay x Damon#further on up the road#one shot#johnny cash song#best friends#modern ramsay bolton#modern setting#game of thrones fanfic#game of thrones one shot#game of thrones au#modern game of thrones#modern au#guns#bullets#blood
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prompt: reacting to myrandas death
Battle-worn boots shift soundlessly along the courtyard, cloak trailing faint tracks on the frost-layered ground. A lone figure stands hunched against the wind, head bowed. The snowflakes that land on his face either melt or are whipped away by the winter gusts as soon as they appear. Cold, rigid and staring, Ramsay gazes down at the still body of Myranda. He had always thought her to be beautiful, even in death he is mesmorised.
Grief is an unfamiliar concept. Not a single tear had been shed but there is a hollow feeling and the embers of a pain unmatched by the edge of blade. Myranda’s demise had been unexpected, the suddenness of it jarring. Yes, he would deliver her back to the hounds that she had been so fond of but he wanted this moment of private reflection. A last farewell.
The moment is fleeting, interrupted by a secondary pair of footsteps and the rustling of a skirt. He doesn’t need to turn around to know that it is Sansa, his wife, Lady Bolton.
The Gods left me with you, he thinks. Your suffering will be just.
With a cruel curl of the lips, Ramsay faces her.
Today, we hunt.
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Mobile Masterlist
Welcome to my mobile masterlist! Here you’ll find the list of celebs and fandoms I write for. If you’d like a specific imagine, preference, or drabble, feel free to send in your request.
*Note: I don’t write any NSFW or smut stuff, so please don’t ask.
Dana XOX
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#anne with an e imagines#buttercream squad imagines#charlie puth imagines#drabbles#fandoms#game of thrones imagines#harry potter imagines#imagines#magcon imagines#masterlist#mobile masterlist#narnia imagines#nick robinson imagines#noah centineo imagines#omaha squad imagines#one direction imagines#peaky blinders imagines#preferences#pretty little liars imagines#shadowhunters imagines#shawn mendes imagines#star wars imagines#supernatural imagines#taron egerton imagines#teamiplier imagines#tom holland imagines#the originals imagines#the vampire diaries imagines#twilight imagines#the witcher imagines
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→ VERMITHORN'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT !
hello! ≧^◡^≦ thank you so much for reading and supporting my work! y’all don’t know how happy it makes me when you reblog and comment hehe. i'm so happy about this milestone, very big for me! i did a celebration for my 500 so if you find this format similar, that's why! english isn’t my first language so having a platform to show my writing means the world to me. thank you again and please enjoy!
# MASTERLIST. # GUIDELINES.
WHAT ARE WE DOING?
I'm going to be writing drabbles, so the game mode is you can send a character + a kink/fetish of your choice, and I'll be writing it! You can send as many requests as you want, the sky is the limit <3
WHAT CHARACTERS I CAN REQUEST?
hotd. aemond targaryen, aegon ii targaryen, daemon targaryen, cregan stark, jacaerys velaryon, harwin strong, criston cole. got. robin arryn, ramsay bolton. others. osferth.
WHAT KINK/FETISH I CAN REQUEST?
→ I'll leave that to you, but here's a list if you need help choosing (it's a website with 200+ kinks/fetishes explaining them).
WHAT I CANNOT REQUEST?
→ Eating disorders, age play, severe health-related issues, scat/vomit, feet, self-harm/suicide.
Any other doubts, please refer to my guidelines.
FINISHED REQUESTS
DAEMON TARGARYEN + COCKWARMING.
CRISTON COLE + OVERSTIMULATION.
AEMOND TARGARYEN + BONDAGE.
ROBIN ARRYN + ACCIDENTAL STIMULATION.
CREGAN STARK + ACAROPHILIA.
tagging a few mutuals to spread the word, and if you want to participate, even better hehe. (also, don't feel obligated, please ignore if you don't want! ily! i hope i am not bothering y'all, kiths!)
@aegonx @arcielee @aemondsmoon @bottlesandbarricades @decapthor @mintharasbaenre @ichorai @nyrasbloodyclover @aemonds-princeregent @fairysluna @inthedayswhenlandswerefew @starkskeep @f4ll-for-you @marthawrites @exitpursuedbyavulcan @ervotica @xfancyuu @jasonsmirrorball @theold-ultraviolence @fan-goddess @black-dread @targaryen-dynasty @asa-do-your-thing @zaldritzosrose @sepherinaspoppies @anjelicawrites @eiralune @vitrioli @vhagarlovebot ≧'◡'≦
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a warm welcome
@jonsadungeonsanddrabbles Autumn Drabbles Day 3: Magical OR Natural
Petyr has heard rumours about what happened in Winterfell, whispers that the Boltons are dead and that the North has a Queen now. He wonders whether it could be true. How could she have achieved such a thing without his help? He'd prefer to find out more before he enters the castle again, but it seems his informants have failed to send him any new information.
The gates are opened for him, and he's welcomed inside, the guards demeanour frosty but polite enough. Northerners, he scoffs internally. He's escorted to the Great Hall and as he walks down the long path to the dais at the far end, he sees three figures emerge from the shadows, still and stony as the Kings of Winter in the crypts below. He'd only been there once, and he'd left again as soon as possible. For some inexplicable reason, he could have sworn he'd heard sharp, icy whispers trying to chase him out for the whole time he was down there.
At first, he only sees her. She sits her Weirwood Throne with a confidence he hasn't seen in her before, one hand lightly draped over an armrest, the other in her lap, her back straight but her posture relaxed. Her fiery hair is flowing freely all around her ivory face, her blue eyes icy and piercing. She's wearing a sleeveless grey gown with many layers of flimsy skirts that doesn't provide enough cover for the frosty weather, even here in the Hall. When she shifts, he detects the curve of her swollen belly, but he follows the movement of her arm, reaching up to the man who is standing to her left.
He is the spitting image of Ned Stark, and yet he isn't, though Petyr finds it hard to determine where the difference lies. Perhaps in the curly hair, the dark, hollow eyes, the cruel smile. This must be the bastard, though Petyr could have sworn he'd been murdered by his sworn brothers of the Watch. He takes her hand between the both of his, both tenderness and a fierce protectiveness emanating from his flaring nostrils and the way he cradles her hand. Despite the cold, he's only wearing a loosely laced up tunic and woolen breeches, both black.
To the right side of the throne, an enormous white wolf is looming over her. The beast doesn't move or growl, but his red eyes send a shiver down Petyr's spine he tries to conceal as he offers Sansa Stark a benign smile.
"Sansa," he addresses her. "I'm glad to find you in such good health."
"Your Grace," the bastard corrects him. Petyr's lip twitches, but he ignores him.
"So the rumours are true then?"
She exchanges a glance with her half-brother, and he feels as if they're having a conversation they don't wish him to be privy to.
"I suppose that would depend on the rumours, Lord Baelish," she answers him flatly, her voice nasal and low.
"I'm sure there's time to discuss them later," he answers pleasantly, and gestures at her belly. The bastard inches forward, but she squeezes his hand. "I believe congratulations are in order?" Petyr continues. "But what of your husband?"
This time they don't look at each other, yet he still can't shake the feeling they're communicating in some way.
"The younger Lord Bolton had an unfortunate accident on our wedding night," she says slowly, and this time, he can hear a smile in her voice. "He ran into a knife," she adds, and her lips curl into a feral grin. He has never seen the wolf in her before, but now he can tell that it's there.
There are many questions he could ask, but he's not sure which one is the safer one, or even the right one. He settles on: "And the older Lord Bolton?"
"Fell down a flight of stairs and broke his neck." There's no emotion in her voice this time.
"How... unfortunate," he chooses to repeat her earlier word.
"Very unfortunate," Jon Snow answers him. He remembers the name now. "Men have been dying like flies here in Winterfell lately." The glint in his eyes makes the hairs on the back of Petyr's neck stand up. It's a veiled threat, he realizes, and as he debates on whether to respond to it, he can see them having one of their almost magical conversations again.
She rises to her feet and the bastard moves with her, the way his hands cradle and support her tugging Petyr's lips up into a knowing smile, even as fury starts to simmer in his belly and bile rises in his throat. He can see the truth in an instant. The babe is probably his as well, and not Ramsay Bolton's. It's a sublime piece of knowledge, even if the betrayal stings.
"Lord Baelish, I believe the time has come for you to be rewarded for everything you have done for me and my family," she says solemnly.
Petyr inclines his head, waiting for her to continue. The bastard cups her cheek, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as she glances up to meet the question in his eyes. Petyr huffs and shakes his head. They are not even trying to hide their affair from him.
When it hits him why they're not making any effort, it's already too late. His heart is trying to leap out of his chest and he knows he should try to beg or run for his life, but he's frozen in his spot and his heart is in his throat, obstructing his voice.
"Ghost," she mutters, holding her bastard brother's gaze.
He nods and pulls her closer. "You don't have to look," he tells her.
The last thing Petyr sees is the bastard's cruel smile and a flash of white before he's knocked to the floor and cries out in pain.
#jonsa#jon x sansa#jonsa fic#jonsa ff#jonsadungeonsanddrabbles#pov littlefinger#dark jonsa#half-sibling incest#death by ghost
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Jon/Dany - 9 ❤️🖤❤️
9. “Are you tired? Come on, let's go to sleep.”
Another drabble for you guys. I hope you like it. Yes, Dany is a Swiftie. Deal with it.
Jon entered the living room from the kitchen and found Daenerys spread out on the sofa, a hand thrown over her eyes to keep out the light. She’d been running since before sunrise, preparing for a big presentation at work. It was a chance to show her boss that she was excelling in these trying times of quarantine and illness. Honestly, he was feeling the weight of being bogged down with it all, too. But Dany had seemed to take it in stride. They were luckier than some, having a small back garden where they could at least feel the sun on their faces.
Her presentation had gone swimmingly, from his estimation. He’d been on the other side of the table doing his own work while she had even dressed up for the Teams meeting. Her slideshow had been perfect, her ability to answer any question was something to behold. Even when her asshole associate, Ramsay Bolton, tried to embarrass her in front of their co-workers. She answered his questions in stride, not even looking at her notes. After that was done, she’d begun baking. She always baked whenever she was nervous.
Now, she was lying across their sofa with Taylor Swift and Bon Iver playing in the background. There was one thing she would never admit to their friends and it was that she was a true Swiftie. He didn’t mind. He’d walked in a few times to see her dancing to the songs and it had amused him greatly. He sat on the arm of the sofa closest to her feet. He reached out and pinched her big toe. “Hey, you still alive?”
She grunted. “Yes.” She lifted her head. “Did you try the sourdough I made?”
“It was all I could do not to eat half of the loaf immediately. You’re killing me with all the carbs.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you were complaining all the way through that pan of brownies, yesterday.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t say I wasn’t enjoying it. Only that you’re killing my manly figure.”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “Didn’t you hear? The Dad Bod is all the rage.”
“I do not have a Dad Bod,” he replied.
She peeked an eye open and smiled at him. “No. You still look fantastic. It’s my ass that’s gotten bigger.”
“Your ass is perfect,” he replied automatically. It was. There was no debating it. He moved to sit on the sofa and pulled her feet into his lap. He began massaging and she groaned. “You alright?”
She nodded. “Nervous, still. I know I already presented but what if I didn’t do enough? What if there were holes?”
“I’m sure your boss or, at least, Ramsay, would have called out holes. I don’t really know what you’re talking about, but it made sense to me. If you can make someone like me understand what you’re talking about, it had to be good enough for them.”
She sighed. “You really think so?”
He smiled and nodded. “Absolutely. You did fantastic.”
“Thank you. It actually helped relax me, being able to look up and see your face.”
“I suppose quarantine has its benefits.” She pulled her feet from his lap and moved to curl up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as they tucked around each other. “I hate to admit that I’ve enjoyed spending this much time with you.”
“Why do you hate to admit it?”
“Because you might get sick of me and make me leave.”
She shook her head. “Never. Do I hate it when you leave wet towels on the bed? More than I can put into words. Do I want to kick you in the shins everytime you leave beard trimmings on the sink? Yes! But I also like this. You’re the perfect cuddle buddy,” she said with a smile. “Next to Ghost. But he sheds.”
He chuckled and squeezed her tighter. “I hate it when you refold my clothes.”
“Not my fault you do it wrong.”
He laughed full out then and she followed which then led to a yawn. “Are you tired?” She gave a nod and he sat her up then stood and held a hand out to her. “Then let’s sleep.”
She put hers in his and followed him into the bedroom. “Will you shower with me in the morning?”
He scoffed. “Is that an actual question?”
Dany stepped into his space and wrapped her arms around his waist. “So, you’ll show off that Dad Bod?”
“Say I have a Dad Bod again. I dare you,” he gruffed and cupped her face in his hands.
She grinned wide at him. “That sounds like a challenge I might want to accept.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “We’re stuck here together for a while. Might not want to poke the wolf.”
“Oh, ‘the wolf’? I’m so scared,” she said softly, mocking him gently.
“Woman, don't make me bend you over my knee.”
She let out a wistful sigh. “I just don’t have the energy or I would poke. Perhaps tomorrow.”
She pulled out of his arms and walked into the bathroom. “And for future reference, even if you did have a Dad Bod, I’d still want to fuck you.”
“Well, that’s a nice sentiment,” he said with a roll of his eyes and shucked his sweats and tossed them into the hamper.
He pulled down the sheets, went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, climbed into bed, and soon she joined him, a long t-shirt hanging to mid-thigh She killed the lights and curled into his arms. She liked cuddling before she went to sleep, but right before she drifted off, she’d roll to her other side and drift off. He squeezed her hip and placed a kiss on top of her head. She had her eyes closed. “Best part of my day,” she said softly.
She smiled against her hair. “You’re the best part of everything, Dany.”
“Such a sap, Jon Snow.” She squeezed him a bit tighter. “I love it. I love you,” she whispered.
“Love you, too.”
Romance/Comfort Prompts
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Game of Thrones Imagines - Dancing
in which i write waaay too much about this because ive been listening to waltz music and im absolute trash for dancing scenes
In this preference, you’ll enjoy little drabbles with: Ned Stark, Benjen Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Jamie Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn of Blackwater, Stannis Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Brienne, Margeary Tyrell, Loras Tyrell, Ramsay Bolton, Roose Bolton, Edmure Tully, Brynden Tully, Oberyn Martell, Yara Greyjoy, Petyr Baelish, Beric Dondarrion, Tormund Giantsbane
seven hells what order should I put these guys in
NED STARK
In his youth, Ned never really bothered with the ins and outs of dancing. He didn’t see the point; training or running Winterfell was more important, besides, it was more of a Southern thing. His brothers shared his lack of enthusiasm, so he didn’t really care about it.
However, this changed at a gala at Winterfell, when he saw you for the first time. You were so lively and kind, and your beauty seemed to increase tenfold when you danced. He didn’t even notice his brother Brandon was your partner at first, and suddenly, he couldn’t keep himself from asking you for the next dance, worried Brandon might keep you all night. As he put his hand to your waist and your hand in his, he internally panicked… But that melted away as you gave him a reassuring smile.
Ned didn’t even notice you were leading him, nor did he dwell on the few stumbles he made. He just couldn’t believe he was so close to you, and enjoying something like dancing.
He tried practicing and brushing up a bit after that, but really, it was a bit of a lost cause. After you married, he still loved to take you in his arms anyway, and he was never short of praise for you when the gala was over. You teased him about watching you all night instead of visiting with his fellow lords, and he wasn’t ashamed to say that he loved watching your graceful movements.
The last dance was Ned’s favorite, as he loved it when you leaned your head on his shoulder and you two could just sway. If you were particularly tired, he’d wait until the guests had mostly cleared out and bridal carry you to your shared bedroom. He used to feel a bit embarrassed in helping you undress, but later he took great pleasure in how you'd sigh. This extended to him eventually sharing a bath with you afterward, soothing your body with the warm water and his hands.
BENJEN STARK
Benjen had never cared for dancing, especially these silly galas the Southerners liked. He never thought he was missing out, and rather enjoyed teasing Brandon and Ned for having to go to them, and later teased Robb for the same thing.
He was stopping by Winterfell and staying the night when he heard of a gala going on. Benjen wanted to speak with his brother and nephews, so he stopped by inside, surprised by the amount of people and the music. He spotted Jon and went to him, only for someone to catch his eye. He didn’t keep track of the family members of the North, as it wasn’t his place anymore, but he wished he had a name for your lovely face.
You were dancing with Robb, smiling at him, laughing when he leaned in and said something. He admired the way you moved with such elegance, despite Robb having some trouble keeping up.
“Uncle?” Jon found him first, and tried to get his attention.
Benjen quickly shut his mouth and greeted his nephew. As he hugged him, he still glanced at you. Jon had noticed and teased his uncle, mentioning your family was close to the Starks, and you were their only daughter. As Benjen had visited with his family, he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you. He was ready to leave, wanting to keep you off his mind, and he was surprised when you sought him out first.
“I’m so sorry to intrude, but you’re … Benjen, correct? My cousin is with the Night’s Watch, and he mentioned you - Wait, I haven’t even introduced myself…”
He thought it was so cute how breathless you were, and you were trying to be polite to a man of the Night's Watch, even if you had no reason to. He asked for your name, and many other questions, both of you drawing into conversation without realizing it. You noticed a few songs had passed already, and you took a chance. You asked if he would be allowed to dance with you. Benjen hesitated, and politely refused you, figuring a lady shouldn’t be dancing with someone like him. He was surprised by how disheartened you look, and he was disappointed as well.
As the evening grew dark, you noticed Benjen had disappeared at some point. You were glad to leave the stuffy hall, your feet and legs were aching. Outside, the frozen air was perfect, and you took a deep breath … and you yelped as a sudden gust of wind hit you. Your dress was thin, and you shivered.
Suddenly, someone wrapped a warm fur around you. You looked up. “Benjen? I was wondering where you were.”
“You were looking for me?” His pleased smile was cute. You pulled the fur further around your shoulders and spoke honestly. “Yes. I wanted to see you."
The two of you lingered, and you could feel a sort of tension. There was still music from the hall, albeit muffled and distant. You spoke first, asking him to dance with you.
Benjen couldn’t believe you managed to take him off guard, but he didn’t make the same mistake twice. He accepted, pulling you into his arms. As you shivered again, he pulled you even closer, and you wondered if it was his heart or your’s that you could hear.
From then on, anytime Benjen passed by Winterfell, you were sure to see him. You two shared several secret meetings, which weren’t limited to dances. He especially liked it when you snuck out of the galas early and curled up with him in your guest room, where he'd soothe your aching legs while whispering how beautiful you looked.
ROBB STARK
Like most Northern lords, Robb felt the entire idea of galas and dancing was silly. Still, he knew you attended them, so he’d do his best to practice a few steps when no one was looking. During a gala, he didn’t hide that he was looking around for you, and would try his best to have you at the first dance. When he danced with other ladies, he really wasn’t that attentive and sometimes made mistakes out of nervousness, or because he was too busy watching you across the room.
Once Robb finally had you as a partner, it was obvious how pleased he was as he held you. He’d try to play it cool, but you could tell he was concentrating on following the right steps.
Just for fun, you liked to throw him off by moving a little closer and whispering something sweet. His face would go red and he’d stumble, and you two would laugh to yourselves, stuck in your own little world.
He’d eventually grow in confidence and you could tell by how firmly he held you and how he began to lead the dance more and more. If you asked him about practicing, he’d have to blush again and admit he was doing it for you, as he loved watching you twirl with more experienced partners, and hoped that someday he could make you smile like that. You’d insist that you love dancing with him the most, no matter what, and he’d likely almost step on your feet again because he was so happy.
At the end of a dance, Robb always gives you an earnest kiss on your hand and lingers a bit, still holding your hand and looking you in the eyes. It’s so obvious he wants to kiss you for real, but then he has to hand you off to a partner, frowning the whole time. He’d definitely want to find you for a last dance, and at the end of that, he’d risk it and give you a kiss on the cheek - still holding your hand. He often lingers after the music ends, still holding onto you, and you have to teasingly remind him to let you go and return to his family.
Often Robb really can’t take it and finds you after the gala, in the evening, wanting to hold your hand and steal a proper kiss from you. “I’ve been waiting to do that all night.”
“Ha! Get it all out of your system, before someone comes looking for us.”
SANSA STARK
Since she was a girl, Sansa always daydreamed about attending fabulous galas and dances in the South. Once she arrived in King’s Landing, you and her became fast friends after she met you at her first one. She looked up to you, loving your poise and grace. You began to teach her, and although she had some trouble with more complicated steps, she appreciated your patient instruction. Each gala was a whirlwind of emotion for her, and when it became too much, especially with Joffrey, she’d seek you out in the crowd. You’d take her into your arms and dance, quietly alleviating her worries as the music played.
The situation in King’s Landing became worse, but Sansa continued to attend your lessons. You noticed the toll the events was taking on her health and mind, but she insisted she was fine.
One day, she was especially clumsy in the lesson, often making mistakes and spacing out. You knew it was rather pointless you ask, but you did so quietly, whispering to her as you guided her along the steps.
Suddenly Sansa held fast to you, bringing you into a crushing hug. You heard her shudder and try to stifle herself, but several tears came out. You continued to sway, soothing her and petting her hair. As soon as you both heard someone, she pulled away, pressing her sleeves at her eyes to hide any tears. You both quickly returned to the lesson as several servants passed by.
From that point, Sansa would often exclusively seek you out at galas, pointedly dancing with just you even if propriety demanded you two part. She only would after a scathing comment from Cersei or Joffrey - and she would've danced with others for a time, but then she’d always come back to you. You’d still whisper soothing words when no one would hear as you two twirled.
Once the dances were over, you both would be exhausted, but Sansa would still linger with you. You’d hold her hand, taking her to her room, sometimes shooing away her handmaidens so you could brush her hair and keep comforting her. She wouldn’t always accept this, however, and would want to help you as well, smiling softly when you’d attempt to joke and make witty comments to lighten the mood.
JON SNOW
Jon was never expected to bother with fancy feasts or galas, and he told himself he was fine with it, especially since Robb was always dressed up and dragged off for them. He still found it a bit lonely, however, and he was curious about the music that was always playing for the galas. Sometimes he’d hang around outside, listening to the laughter and music. He was doing this on the night you saw him. Jon heard someone hurry out, and he was surprised to see a girl all dressed up and out of breath. You sat down on a bench almost fell over as you removed your shoes.
You turned around and yelped, and he startled, too. He apologized for frightening you, and was glad you just laughed it off.
“You’re … Lord Stark’s boy, right? Jon Snow?”
He was surprised you recognized him, and thankful that you were talking to him so kindly. You introduced yourself, explaining your shoe had broken and you were worn out. As you shivered, he quickly gave you his fur, and you two ended up talking for much longer than you expected.
“The galas aren't so bad, I promise. Yes, they’re tiring, and dressing up takes far too long, and the lords can be overbearing …” You trailed off, and he couldn’t help but laugh. You were so pretty in your outfit, and he wondered if Robb was one of those lords who annoyed you. You stood up and took his hands, further surprising him. “Still, they're fun! Here, I’ll show you!”
Even though Jon tried to protest, he really couldn’t argue once you were placing his hands. He knew something of dancing that he was taught, but not much, and he hoped he didn’t touch you anywhere inappropriate. You ended up swaying and dancing along, and he began to forget himself.
Once you began to shiver again, he remembered your feet were bare and offered to help you to your guest room. There were several more galas at Winterfell, and you liked skipping out to talk and visit with him. He still had plans to go to the Wall, and he considered his time with you precious, knowing it wouldn’t last long. A few times Robb or Theon teased him for having a crush, and he’d just tell them they were imagining things.
Whenever he'd hear the music of the galas, whether it be a minstrel that was playing or someone singing, he'd wonder what it'd be like if he were a true Stark and was allowed to dance with you like the other lords.
THEON GREYJOY
Naturally, Theon wasn’t allowed to participate in the few galas at Winterfell, and he didn’t think Ironborns should be doing flowery dancing, anyway. Still, his interest was piqued when he noticed you and Sansa practicing, and how the servants would gossip about how lovely you and Robb looked when you danced.
So Theon ended up sneaking into a few, especially at Robb and Jon’s urging. They were ready to get a kick out of Theon falling over himself or Catlyn dragging him out by the ear, but he surprised nearly everyone when he strode up to you with confidence, asking for a dance. You knew him, of course, and you were surprised when he kept up with you.
Not just that, he was almost a natural even if he didn’t know all the steps. He had an infectious energy, and you two ended up sharing quite a few laughs. If he messed up or you teased him about his hand being too low, he’d have a joke ready. Once you finished the dance, he made sure to kiss your hand with a wink, sometimes giving you a kiss on the cheek if no one was watching.
Theon’s absolute favorite thing to do was “steal” you from your partner, especially if it was someone he knew you disliked. He’d just whisk you off with a smirk and a quip, and you two would try to stifle your giggles at how angry the man would look.
Theon was only able to snatch you for the last dance once, and he got an earful for it later - but it was completely worth it. It felt like it was just the two of you in the room, and he stole a kiss before being dragged off by Robb and Jon, who were positive that Catlyn was going to tear Theon a new one.
Theon would always try to find you after a gala. His usual flirting would fall a bit short, as he’d be a bit intimidated by how lovely and breathless you looked, but you’d still smile and would give him a real kiss goodnight.
DAENERYS TARGARYEN
You were a noble from Westeros who had long been travelling Essos, and you soon came into the service of the Queen of Dragons. You two had a surprising friendship, and she found herself quite drawn to you. One day, she heard you humming and dancing along to something as you tidied up, and she asked you with a laugh what you were doing.
As you described the grand balls you’d attend, and all the silly nonsense your parents would make you wear, she’d become thoughtful. She told you to demonstrate some more of the dances, and you were amused by how queenly her demand was. You’d do your best, but explain that it’s better with two people - perhaps one of her handmaidens or Missandei could help.
To your surprise, Daenerys would step forward and hold you with a strong confidence, all but telling you to instruct her. You’d do so, keeping your smile down as you guided her hands and began the basic steps. Daenerys did her best to follow, although she took it quite seriously, and thus would make a few mistakes. As you’d tease her good naturedly, she’d be even more determined, bringing you even closer and telling you to focus on the lesson.
Your lessons continued for some time, each one the two of you going longer and becoming a little more breathless. Daenerys loved how you’d hum the songs and would move with such confidence, it would distract her more than your lips or the feeling of your body against her’s. Finally, she’d push you against the wall and kiss you until you were breathless… And afterwards, you’d giggle and ask her how long she’s been wanting to do such a thing. The queen certainly punished that bit of cheek.
While you don’t have lessons all that much anymore, during celebrations Daenerys will take you to herself and lead you in the dance. She’d obviously be pleased with your compliments, which you found adorable.
Sometimes in her chambers, when the windows are open and you both can hear the sea, she’d pull you into her arms and want to slow dance. You both would end up making up your own dances, and would take turns leaning on each other and sharing kisses and whispers.
JORAH MORMONT
Dancing with Jorah came about purely by accident. You were discussing Westerosi culture with Daenerys, as you were also from there and she was curious. You described attending galas, all the beautiful dresses and lights and music. Jorah had attended a few as well, even though they weren’t as popular in the North, and he shared his stories.
Daenerys looked to the both of you with a bit of mischief in her eyes. She asked if you two could show her how some of the dances are done. You quickly felt shy, as you had quite a crush on Ser Jorah, but the idea of being so close and dancing with him was a wonderful thought. You looked to him, and he also seemed a little flustered, but he gave you a smile. “A dance or two for the Khaleesi shouldn’t be a problem. It’s been some time for me, so you may have to lead, my lady.”
You gladly did so, you loved it when he called you a lady, reminding you of better times back at home. Despite his words, he took you in his arms with little hesitation and after you counted a few times, you both were easily waltzing around the room. You hummed a song you remembered, and he also remembered it, and began recalling when he was a young man and attended his first gala.
You didn’t notice, but he was discussing the story more with you than Daenerys, and she had long snuck out of the room with Missandei, the two of them grinning.
You two had ended up dancing along to several more songs, talking all the while. You hummed and sometimes sang a song, and he easily swayed you even if he didn’t know it. Jorah held you just perfectly, not too tight, and you felt so safe in his arms. It wasn’t until you turned to ask Daenerys a question that you realized you both were alone, totally out of breath and not knowing how long you’d been dancing.
You had a mix of emotions, you were homesick and lovesick. Jorah assumed your quietness was because you were tired, and he brought you water and took you to a place to rest. You were touched, and you two kept talking into the evening. You eventually began leaning on him and fell asleep, and he carefully carried you to your room and kissed your brow before he tucked you in.
You both confessed your feelings to each other shortly afterward. While there wasn’t much time for parties in the Free Cities, sometimes during quiet evenings you’d pull him into a dance and he’d love it, enjoying your closeness and how you’d hum and rest your head on his chest.
JAMIE LANNISTER
Jamie was always expected to be accomplished in most things, and socially-demanded dancing for stuffy galas was no different. Although he didn’t think much of it, he had a natural talent for it. Jamie didn’t have many chances to dance, however, as the Kingsguard was generally discouraged from participating in galas, unless it was for ceremony or some event.
You first danced together at one of these ceremonies, and Jamie was relieved. You two had known each other for a while, and he was glad not to get stuck with some lovestruck maid. He started out with a smirk, making sassy remarks about the silliness of the whole thing, and you teasing him about being rude while dancing with a lady. As it went on, Jamie started to become quiet. He began to realize how much he liked having you this close, how you smiled and reassured him, and lightly scolded him when he made a rude comment about a guest. He couldn’t keep his heart still, and told himself it was just the exercise.
He was disappointed when the dance ended, and ended up finding you for a few more. When you were taken for the last dance, he couldn’t deny how irritated he felt, and watched you and your damned partner the whole time.
After that, he was sure to attend more galas, but not enough to bring suspicion to your growing relationship. He’d sometimes play it risky, bringing you closer than was proper, whispering in your ear lovely or flirty praises if he knew his sister was away. He really only enjoyed dancing with you, and didn’t have a problem turning down anyone else, although he had to dance with a few others to avoid being seen as too rude.
After he lost his hand and returned to King’s Landing, the bright galas lost their appeal and he stopped attending, even for ceremony. He ended up finding you in a practice room one day, and you guided him to you, although he protested. Once you began humming a song you knew he liked, and guided him into it, he couldn’t help but bring you close against his chest. He leaned into you, swaying as he nuzzled into your hair, holding you so tight it almost hurt.
You knew he was overwhelmed with emotion from his captivity, so when you two got a chance alone, you’d hold him close and whisper how much you loved him, sometimes swaying and humming the songs you two used to dance to.
TYRION LANNISTER
Galas were like any other feast or party for Tyrion, he could have plenty of drink and banter, and if he got bored, he’d slip out and go to a brothel. If he knew you were in attendance, you two would sit together, trading drinks and stories.
He knew you loved to dance, and sometimes you’d step away to enjoy the music. He’d have some feelings of envy and sadness, wishing he could dance so easily with you. One day, you noticed him being particularly self-pitying, and you pulled him by the wrist.
“What’s this, my lady? Normally, I wouldn’t refuse you, but with so many people -”
You smiled and shook your head. “Oh, honestly, it’s not that. I want you to dance with me.”
Tyrion was obviously unsure, he didn’t want that sort of attention drawn to both of you. He knew his reputation, but he didn’t want to sully your’s. You insisted, but instead of dragging him to the middle of the dance floor, you pulled him out in the halls.
“Now I’m really getting mixed messages about your intentions,” He joked, trying to relieve his anxiety.
You rolled your eyes and took his hands, and gently instructed him. Outside, you could still hear the music, but you were alone, enjoying yourselves You both ended up losing track of time, and had to hurry back separately, so no one would assume anything untoward.
He was touched by your kindness, loving you even more, if that was possible. During galas, you two would hold hands and drink, and after you married you were more than able to sneak out and dance to yourselves under the moon and stars.
TYWIN LANNISTER
It was the first time you had attended a gala at Casterly Rock, and your parents wanted you on your best behavior. You had to dance the appropriate amount of time with the appropriate amount of partners, at the appropriate distance. Just thirty minutes in and you wanted to leave.
You noticed Tywin Lannister sitting at a table with his family members; he was hard to miss, with his great presence. However, you became wrapped up in your irksome partners, and you didn’t notice he was gone until he was suddenly beside you. Your scared partner wasted no time in handing you over, and before you knew it, you were dancing with the Warden of the West.
He had a confident hold on you, and perhaps he was a little too close, but you hardly thought about that. You were surprised by his poise and practiced steps; he led you effortlessly and you found yourself complimenting him. You blushed and tried not to look away as he returned the compliment with his low voice. You'd never thought he would do such a thing, and to you of all people.
At the end of it, he gave you a proper bow and kiss on your hand, but it felt different than others you received. You were still buzzing. At the end of the night, he picked you for the last dance, and you were determined not to be intimidated again. You danced wonderfully in sync with him, and you could swear he tried to change some steps to trip you up. You didn’t fall for it, and followed his lead easily. The dance was over before you knew it, and he gave you another customary kiss on your hand, but there was a peculiar look in his eyes that made your heart flutter even more.
The gossip in court exploded after that, with your handmaids telling you that he almost never danced with any lady, and everyone agreed you two looked like royalty.
You still remember that night fondly after you two married. After you wed, he was sure to get the first few dances with you at each gala, and no one was going to take Tywin Lannister’s wife from him until he was quite finished. Once he was, he’d hand you to a partner and sit down, his eyes occasionally following you across the ballroom. No one would think of making an inappropriate move on you, especially at Casterly Rock.
If he felt someone was overstepping their bounds, Tywin wouldn’t hesitate to calmly stand from his seat, make his way to you, and give them a quiet but vicious reminder of who you were married to. Then, he’d guide you to his seat, where he’d keep his hand over yours until he calmed down.
For the last dance, no matter how tired he was or who he was speaking to, he’d seek you out. While Tywin always held you close, if he was in a particular mood, he’d make sure your body was nearly touching his, and his hand would have a firm grip on your waist. The two of you would talk quietly or you'd enjoy a peaceful silence with knowing glances. Tywin wouldn’t want to show too much affection in public, but you could tell from his soft gaze and the way he held you that he very much wanted you. Once the dance was finished, he’d keep you by his side until the gala finished and you two retired to your bedchambers.
SANDOR CLEGANE
Of all the stupid things nobles do, Sandor found galas especially fucking stupid, especially with all the fuss in guarding them. Normally he was glad to take the night off and drink, but since being hired by your family, he had to attend to guard you.
He’d already had growing feelings for you, and the damn galas only made it worse. You were always dressed beautifully, always smiling at this person and laughing with that one. At least you'd give cold looks to lords who didn’t impress you, but he still hated how everyone held your attention. Anytime one of the lords was too close or touchy, he’d be sure to touch his sword and quietly appear next to you two until they’d slink off.
After a well-known incident involving a drunk lord who ended up lifted by his neck and nearly tossed, the guests figured out you were well-protected and didn’t try anything fishy. It really wasn’t enough for Sandor, he didn’t give a shit about dancing, it just drove him up a wall how other men were so close and touching you. You couldn’t stand some of them, but you had to allow it, and whatever you two felt for each other had to be kept under wraps.
In the evening, when the gala ran long and your legs and feet were absolutely killing you, Sandor would wait until you two were alone and pick you up. He’d cradle you bridal style, secretly adoring how you rested your head on his broad shoulders and kept him close, sometimes touching his face as you closed your eyes. He’d be bold enough to take you into your bedroom and set you down on the bed, ignoring the scandalized looks of your handmaidens. Eventually you began sending them away, and when Sandor would set you down, he’d be sure to strip you from your clothes (perhaps a bit too roughly), rubbing your legs and meeting your lips as you held onto his face.
At one point you were practicing in an empty room and you offered to teach him. He snorted, saying he wasn’t doing that shit, and you laughed, figuring you’d give it a try. After a gala, you still have the music in your head, so when you’re both alone you’ll wrap your arms around him and hum, trying to sway him along with you. He’ll grumble and complain but still bring his arms around you, holding you a little too tight, as if trying to erase all the people who were touching you before. Sometimes he was feeling especially jealous, seeing how flushed your cheeks were and how you breathed heavily in your dress, and he’d be too eager to rip it while ‘helping’ you undress.
BRONN
No surprise, he’d scoff at the ridiculousness of the galas and dancing. He and Tyrion would have plenty of good laughs about it as you got ready, and he’d be sure to give you several compliments on your backside before you left. After he was knighted at Blackwater, Tyrion made several jokes about him attending to find a proper wife, which he always blew off. It wasn’t until Tyrion brought up your marriage in passing, and how you’d likely find a husband at a gala since you attended so many, that he got a little irritated.
He didn’t want to go, of course, but he recalled how you always dressed up for them. Were you dressing up for someone in particular? He didn’t think you were the husband-hunting type. The whole idea just left a bad taste in his mouth, so he agreed to go to one with Tyrion, fully intending to just drink and joke the whole time.
Naturally none of the lords and ladies looked forward to having Bronn or Tyrion there, but you still sat with them, laughing and drinking along. Bronn kept fighting the urge to pull you into his lap like he did when he visited the taverns, and right when he was about to pull you to him by your waist, you were asked to dance by some Lord Who Knows from Where the Fuck. Bronn definitely was glaring when the man took you away.
As the lord danced with you, and you smiled politely when he kissed your hand at the end, Bronn hoped that was it. Nope, several lords were ready to dance with you. Evidently, you were popular, and that wasn’t surprising. Bronn wasn’t a flowery words type, but the word ‘beautiful’ kept coming to mind as you twirled and glittered under the lights. It just irked him, so he kept drinking and suggested to Tyrion that they ditch and find a brothel. He remained irritated, despite the distractions.
The next time you readied for a gala and stopped by Tyrion’s office to see if he was joining you, Bronn felt that ugly feeling again, and urged you to come to one of his favorite taverns instead.
You thought he was joking. “In my jewels and one of my favorite dresses?”
“Eh, leave the jewels. I can help ya out of that dress, if ya need it.” He grinned.
You realized he actually meant it, and you sighed, thinking about how upset your family would be, especially since you were still unmarried… But Bronn looked almost eager, and it was hard to refuse him to begin with. You rolled your eyes, told him to give you some time and returned in a much simpler outfit. He couldn’t keep his grin and laugh to himself as he pulled you out of the castle, with Tyrion smirking to himself as you two left.
At the tavern, there was plenty of music and drinks already flowing. After you two drank plenty, Bronn pulled you up, telling you he’d show you what real dancing was. You’d never actually been amongst the smallfolk like this, so you were a little overwhelmed, but you loved the way his hands touched and wandered across your body. He was risky, giving you kisses here on there, sometimes on your jaw or your neck, encouraged by your laughter. Once you two were tired and thirsty, he eagerly pulled you into his lap, calling for another round of drinks. The two of you spent quite a bit of time at the inn and the room upstairs. From then on, you began shirking attending galas, having more fun dancing with Bronn in various taverns and dance halls in King’s Landing.
STANNIS BARATHEON
Not too surprising, Stannis saw no enjoyment in galas, even when he was unmarried and expected to find a wife. The regular feasts were pain enough, and Renly and Robert always took the attention of others anyway.
While courting you, he never actually met you at a gala, preferring to see you elsewhere. When you two married, he realized that he eventually had to attend them, as you couldn’t go by yourself … and he knew how much you loved them. So even with his discomfort, he made attempts to practice with you. You guided him patiently, and he paid attention, although he often got distracted by your happy smile, and how you’d reward him with kisses. He’d tell you to let up on all the affection so he could concentrate, but …. Nope, you didn’t. If you kept showering him with praise and affection, he’d become terribly flustered and try to pull you back into the lesson.
When a gala finally came around, you could tell he was nervous, even if he seemed the same to anyone else. He danced with you through two songs, which surprised you. You forgot yourself more than once, giving him a chaste kiss or a compliment like you’d do in practice, and you both would blush and hope no one noticed.
He’d sit out after that, feeling too out of place. He’d feel nervous seeing you dance with more loud and outgoing men, evening starting to grind his teeth if they looked too cozy with you. Eventually, Davos would have to point out that you didn’t smile nearly as much for the other lords, nor did you stay close to them or laugh at their silly jokes.
For the last dance, you could tell he was happy to return to you. He held you much closer, even giving you subdued smiles as you beamed up at him and noted his improvement. At the end, he’d give you a kiss on the hand, but wouldn’t be satisfied and would end up giving you a sweet one on your lips.
RENLY BARATHEON
While Renly was good enough at dancing and he had friends at the gala, he preferred feasts and tourneys, especially since galas were full of starry-eyed girls chasing after him. You two met when you were forced to partner up, you both were trying to escape more undesirable partners and easily danced away from them. Once you’d both realize what you just did, you’d have a good laugh about it and started to get to know each other.
Since you two often visited at other events after that, there were rumors, but you knew his heart was with a certain Tyrell. He was a fun friend anyway, especially when you both wanted to escape at a gala. You’d dance and make jokes, complain about your families and snigger at certain guests. One time you both were being pursued by especially annoying partners for a last dance, and you literally spent half the song dodging through couples, avoiding them and finally finding each other, only to be totally out of breath and the song nearly over.
DAVOS SEAWORTH
You attended more than enough galas for one lady; your parents were so eager for you to marry, they dragged you to dozens. At least you enjoyed dancing, however, the instability of Westeros had other ideas. You followed your father on his campaign to support Stannis, putting a solid end to any future galas.
As you were often at Dragonstone, you befriended little Shireen, who naturally wasn’t allowed to attend galas. You began giving her little lessons, teaching her some of the songs and steps to them, which she loved. Eventually you began to befriend Davos as well, ans he thought it was adorable to watch the two of you. He especially liked the grace and ease that you moved with, it reminded him of a ship sailing on an easy breeze.
One evening, Shireen suggested that you teach Davos how to dance. He was taken off-guard and quickly said that he really wasn’t a dancer, besides, you were a proper lady who ought to dance with proper lords.
“You are also a lord, and a knight, Ser Davos.” You reminded him. "Besides, in these times, the realm has little need for fancy parties."
He still seemed uneasy and tried several other excuses, until you walked up to him, put his hand on your waist and took up his right one. Of course, he felt insecure about his missing fingers, but you didn’t even bring it up. And it was hard to focus on them, when he had your lovely eyes and your sweet smile so close.
Shireen sang the songs you taught her, and you sang along, carefully guiding him into a simple two and three step dance. He was stiff and nervous the whole time, worried about touching you inappropriately, wanting to touch you but knowing he shouldn’t. After that, several times when he stopped by to see you and Shireen, he’d be dragged into another dancing lesson. He actually did love being so close to you, and how sweet you were with the princess. It made his mind wander to what sort of family you two would have.
Davos never really saw you at a proper ball, which he considered a good and a bad thing. He’d never see you in a lovely dress enchanting the room, but he also wouldn’t have to see younger, handsomer men dancing perfectly with you.
Sometimes when you were feeling anxious, you’d wrap your arms around his warm torso and hold him close to you, humming one of the songs and swaying with him. He’d hold your waist, kissing your brow and giving you words of comfort, knowing you liked the movement and closeness.
MARGAERY TYRELL
The two of you began dancing in the practice room. Margaery was quite drawn to you based off the rumors she heard, and she wasn’t disappointed, as you two quickly dazzled the room. From then on, you often practiced together, usually trading gossip and jokes the whole time.
At the next gala, she surprised you with asking you to dance. You two twirled around the floor, enchanting anyone who watched with your combined grace, not knowing you two were cracking jokes or sharing flirtations while the music played.
You danced often together, although you both knew when it was appropriate to stop dancing together and dance with a possible suitor, it never made you happy. A few times Margaery would notice when a man was getting too close, and she’d swiftly whisk you away with a charming smile, leaving him none the wiser that you were being rescued. Often, you two would catch each other’s eyes while dancing with other partners, and she’d give you a knowing smile.
After one of the parties was winding down, you accompanied Margaery to her private chambers so you two could get out of your dresses and soothe your aching feet. She noticed you were feeling down most of the evening. “Is something the matter, love?”
“Well…” You felt foolish. “I was thinking how you and I will never get the last dance. If we ever did, people would think it was some joke.”
Before you knew it, she whisked you off the bed and onto your feet. “Then, we’ll dance right now! This will be our last one, or the one after this, or the one after that. The last dance will always be just the two of us, when we decide.”
From then on, you two had a little tradition, having your “last dance” in one of your chambers, humming to the ballroom songs in your nightgowns and usually ending it with a fit of giggles on the bed.
LORAS TYRELL
It wasn’t too surprising that Loras was just as graceful in dance as he was on horseback, and all the ladies of the realm were eager to dance with him when he attended a gala. Loras was polite, giving the proper amount of time to each lady, as he truly enjoyed galas, even if his partners could be lacking, and even if he’d never get to dance with the one he really loved.
However, Loras was surprised by you, pleasantly so. He loved that you knew the complicated steps he couldn’t try with other partners, and would give you challenges to keep up. You two would end up getting lost in the music, dancing through several songs. Several guests would stop dancing or talking just to watch, and you both usually got a hearty round of applause by the end of it.
Of course, you both would be exhausted and sweating, but he had a high respect for you and began seeing you as a friend.
BRIENNE OF TARTH
Brienne wasn’t crazy about guarding galas, as it just brought back painful memories of her own rejections and trying desperately to fit in. She’d sigh and bear it, moving all her focus to protecting you. She took the duty seriously, thus, she always watched you.
She began to admire the grace and beauty you had as you danced. She always thought you were pretty, but when you smiled and twirled, and your hair and gown moved with you, it was almost dream-like. More than once, her heart beat quickly as she watched you effortlessly pull off some move she couldn’t attempt or even name. She didn’t even pay attention to your partners, unless they were obviously pushing their boundaries - which she’d be quick to correct if you didn’t stop them first.
One day, you were in your practice room and she was once again taken with you. You noticed her staring, and asked if she’d like to help you practice.
Brienne was taken aback by the suggestion, and quickly became uncomfortable. She insisted there was no way she could be of any help. As you pressed her, she kept insisting, saying she wasn’t graceful and she’d just end up hurting you.
She sat in on several other practice sessions, and you began to get specific with her. You’d ask her to stand still or hold you a certain way so you could practice a dance. She’d get what you were doing right away, but she’d be obedient, trying to calm her beating heart. As you two became closer, and you reassured her, she’d slowly try to hold you and try a few moves, but she’d quickly lose confidence and retreat into herself.
At one gala, during the last dance, a lord was much too forward with you and even tried to follow after you once it ended. Brienne was quick to put him in his place, face-first on the ground. She escorted you back to your room, noticing how upset you were by the whole ordeal.
“Who cares about the last dance, anyway? It’s just stupid ceremony, yet men act like fools over it,” You ranted, taking off your heels and dress. Brienne agreed, trying not to be distracted by you disrobing.
“My last dance will be with whomever I please. Brienne?”
She stood at attention. “My lady?”
You held out your hands, dressed in only your nightgown. “Will you be my last dance, my knight?”
She blushed to her ears and began to refuse, but she thought of all the men who would try to grab you, coerce you into a dance or just act tasteless. Setting her sword aside, she took your hands carefully. You hummed a song and led her into it, and she swore you could hear her heart beneath her armor. In spite of all her worries and insecurities, she loved having you so close, and she couldn’t stop herself from giving you a proper knightly kiss on your hand once your impromptu dance finished.
RAMSAY BOLTON
You knew of Ramsay’s reputation when you married him. You weren’t a fool, you were aware he certainly had feelings for you, and he was willing to keep his more … unsavory aspects away from you, for the most part. He was especially good at playing the dutiful lord husband where guests were concerned, although Roose still kept an eye on him during galas.
You adored dancing and you weren’t going to stop just because he didn’t partake. But to your surprise, one day he took you in his arms, and impressed you with how he followed the music and steps. He was rather clumsy, and perhaps a little too fast, but it was obvious he had been practicing.
You complimented Ramsay, and he was clearly pleased, holding you closer and giving you that charming smile he liked to use. You could always see behind it, but this time it seemed genuine. Sometimes he’d slip up and give you a kiss, often whispering something less than appropriate to you, but before you knew it several songs played and you had enjoyed yourself.
He was still holding onto you when a man came up, asking for your hand. Ramsay looked confused, then clearly irritated, and you had to remind him. “My lord, it’s customary to change partners every other song.”
“Is that so?” His expression changed again, to a darker one you easily recognized. He handed you over to the man, obviously not enjoying it, and you hoped he stayed out of trouble.
As you danced with other partners, you could see he had a few dances with other girls, but then he returned to the table. You could tell there was strong emotion brewing behind his eyes, you just couldn’t be sure what he’d do.
One of the lords dancing with you was quite drunk, and ended up stumbling. You tried to catch him, but he grabbed ahold of you, specifically on your backside. Before you could push him off, Ramsay was already there, taking the man by the collar. The room went totally quiet as he smiled. “I’d recommend you find a different place for those hands, my lord, or they’ll end up separated from your wrists.”
You pulled Ramsay away and Roose urged the musicians to continue. Before you could even speak to Ramsay, he had you in his arms again, but this time with far more possessiveness. He gripped your waist and brought the two of you completely together, and kissing your neck as you two swayed to the song. He began to bite you and leave marks, his tone sweet but his words told you that you belonged to him, and if you or any lords forgot, he’d be more than happy to remind them.
ROOSE BOLTON
It was common knowledge among the Northern lords that Roose didn’t dance at galas. He wasn’t the only Northern lord who did this, of course, but he already had a reputation for being cold. He’d simply sit at the table, observing the guests and occasionally speaking when it was polite.
It wasn’t until Roose was courting you that he finally stood, asking you for the first dance. You were just as surprised as anyone else, but you accepted, and you couldn’t help but notice the confidence and ease that he held you with. His movements weren’t flourishing or energetic, but held your attention with his steely eyes. Occasionally, he’d murmur in your ear a lovely compliment, and it would almost break your concentration.
You noticed as the dances would go on, he’d bring you closer, and you didn’t mind at all. Afterward, he may have accepted a dance here or there from someone else, but he really didn’t get asked, and he seemed quite fine with that. He’d sit at the table at his usual spot, his eyes following you, sometimes catching your gaze and giving an expression that you couldn’t place.
He was able to catch you for the last dance once or twice, and his movements were so slow and steady, it was almost hypnotizing. You found yourself swaying into him, sometimes leaning, and you had to remind yourself to keep an appropriate distance - but then he’d gently pull you back in. As your cheeks flushed, he asked why you suddenly became so shy, and you managed some excuse. At the end of it, he took your hand and gave you a perfectly polite kiss that still gave you goosebumps because of the way he lingered and kept his eyes on you.
Once you married, he’d only dance with you. During a gala, he’d keep an eye on which men were dancing with you - if he felt one was keeping too close, or one was dancing with you too often, he’d come from seemingly nowhere and more or less threaten them away, always in his calm tone. Then he’d take you in his arms, swaying you in his gentle and slow way. As you melted into it, he’d give you a kiss on your brow or cheek. He’d whisper to you sometimes, complimenting your loveliness or reminding you that you two still had the business of making an heir.
At the last dance, he’d only seem to want you more, especially if he was feeling jealous through the night. His long fingers would softly rub the small of your back, often slipping lower if he could get away with it, and he’d give several kisses to your lips and neck. By the end of it, you’re usually a mess, and you’d want the gala to hurry up and be over so you two could get to your shared bedroom.
EDMURE TULLY
As much as his father and sisters attempted to instruct him, Edmure was always clumsy with his feet. Lysa and Catlyn often teased him, pulling him into the practice room and insisting he dance with them. He attended several galas through the years, always quite shy and sort of bumbling when he was dragged to dance with someone.
When your mother not so subtly suggested that you two dance, the panic on his face was obvious. You were probably the most beautiful girl he’d met, and now he’d be making a fool of himself in front of you. You took his hand, giving him a gentle smile, whispering that it would be okay.
You took the lead and he was surprised by how kind you were. You would quietly instruct him and carefully guide him, and he became confident, enjoying several dances with you. He was so disappointed to hand you over to someone else, he almost forgot to kiss your hand.
After you two married, Edmure actually put a lot more work into his practice, since you loved dancing so much and he wanted to spend time with you. He admired your confidence in all things, but especially when all eyes were on you as you went from partner to partner. He’d try to participate as much as he could, but he still was quite clumsy and didn’t want to slow you down, although you insisted he was doing quite well.
When the last dance came, he almost couldn’t wait to be by your side. Your cheeks would be flushed from the evening, and he’d lovingly brush some of your stray hair behind your ear before taking your hand and waist in the last dance. He probably couldn’t resist giving you a kiss on your cheek or forehead, being a little embarrassed by his own behavior. Once it finished, he’d again lose himself and give you a lovely kiss before remembering propriety and placing a kiss on your hand.
Once the evening is over, he’s incredibly attentive to you, massaging your legs and getting you water or whatever you needed. When you tease him about it, he blushes quite a bit, but says he can’t help but look after and spoil his lovely wife.
BRYNDEN TULLY
When you first asked him to dance, he laughed out loud, assuming you were joking. When you insisted, he certainly was surprised, but he set his ale down and gladly stood to join you.
The Blackfish knew he wasn’t graceful in any sense of the word, but he held you firmly, and he led with confidence. If he ever missed any steps, he recovered so smoothly it was hard to tell. He didn't give a damn about any gossip between the two of you, and respected that you felt the same.
Often you’d push yourself closer to him, and he’d grin, only holding you tighter, making your heart race. He’d have plenty of witty comments, loving to see you laugh as your cheeks were flushed from the exercise, and maybe you two could sneak in a few flirtatious whispers. He loved how small you were in his arms, and sometimes he'd make a snide comment about hoping his brother and the Riverlands court were thoroughly scandalized by the two of you.
Brynden would really only have a few dances with you before insisting you ought to partner with some younger men, and better suitors. Even if you’d pout, he’d sit down and go back to drinking and joking with his friends. However, he’d unmistakably look up and watch you, loving to see you twirl and move, and sometimes laughing to himself whenever his nephew nearly stepped on your feet. If he was feeling particularly bold and had plenty of drink, he’d swoop you up for the last dance, insisting to your partner that you were in good hands - and really, it was hard to argue with such a man, especially when he was already whisking you away.
At the end of the evening, he always gave you a “proper” kiss on the hand, which you know he wasn’t taking seriously at all, as he'd often give you a wink or would scoff at anyone staring. You’d kiss him on the cheek in return.
Once the guests were turning to their rooms, Brynden would find you, pulling you into an empty hall to give you a proper kiss, grumbling about damned propriety. You'd laugh softly as you guided him to your room, though he'd insist on carrying you, delighting in how you'd hold onto him.
OBERYN MARTELL
Oberyn vastly preferred the galas in Dorne, which had both livelier music and dance. As much as he enjoyed causing a little ruckus or scandal here and there at typical galas, for the most part, they uninterested him.
He ended up attending one, and he was quite ready to leave and find himself amongst far more interesting company. Then, he spotted you just in time, and he wondered where such a beautiful and graceful gem had been hiding all along. Surely he had to have heard of you, and when he realized he hadn't, he would make sure you knew of him.
He more or less whisked you from his partner and pulled you into a dance full of energy, and he was delighted as you met his unpredictable steps. He'd flirt shamelessly, asking all about you, and if you'd be interested in meeting him in a … less formal setting. There would be endless gossip on you and the Dornish prince, but you didn't care, and danced the rest of the night with Oberyn. It was obvious he loved dancing as much as you did, and he made for a wonderful partner.
You attended a gala at Dorne for his brother's birthday, and Oberyn couldn't believe his luck you that were there. He pulled you into his arms at once, bringing you close and instructing you in the more sensual Dornish dances that most of Westeros was too scandalized by. If you would have him, he'd want you to be his paramour by the end of the night.
Oberyn liked to watch you at galas, and how you adapted so well to other partners and enjoyed every song, not taking a moment to rest. It was painfully obvious how taken he was with you by the way he’d smile in your direction, and when you two danced, you seemed lost in your own world. In the evenings, he’d do his utmost to spoil you and soothe your sore legs, praising your grace and movement the entire time.
YARA GREYJOY
As hard and bitter as the Iron Islands were, they liked loud music and good drink as well as any place in the Seven Kingdoms. Sometimes a tavern would just be full of both, and a great party would carry on into the night. You loved partaking in these, losing yourself in the music and singing along with the old sea shanties, even if you had plenty of hands to slap away. You didn’t let a bunch of foolish, drunk men ruin your fun.
Yara had seen you plenty of times before, and of course you knew her. She’d sit back with a drink and watch you sway your hips to the beat, and you’d give her a smirk or a wink in return. You were patient, she was not - eventually, she’d finish off her drink, stand up, shove off whatever man was hovering around you and bring you close to her.
You loved teasing the Greyjoy captain, often saying things like “My, haven’t we met before?”. Sometimes she played into it with you, other times she just hovered close to your ear and responded, “You know exactly who I am.”
You could tell Yara wanted to see you at times other than this, by the way she’d talk of you two ‘touring’ her ship’s quarters or where she might find you again, but you liked to keep her on her toes.
PETYR BAELISH
When Petyr asked you to dance with his disarming smile, you didn’t realize what you were in for. He was an absolute natural, holding you and leading you with expertise. He moved quickly, forcing you to keep up, but you loved the challenge. Fast songs that most people would sit out for were no problem for him, and he even had several sweet compliments for you, or playfully traded a few rumors he’d heard about you and some lord, secretly hoping you’d dispel them.
As you complimented him on his dancing, stating he was a natural, he’d brush it off with false modesty and insist he just practiced… but you knew from that prideful smirk that he was glad to impress you. He especially loved seeing you flushed and breathing heavily after several dances with him, imagining you with the same face in a much different setting.
If you were stuck with a particularly boring or sleazy partner, he’d time it perfectly, swooping in to rescue you right when you were at your wit’s end. With his usual charisma, he’d tell them you were needed, perhaps giving a swift insult to them in the same breath. Sometimes he’d hint that you were already involved with someone else, and would be delighted if you wouldn’t correct him.
The other side of Petyr would come out if you were having fun with other men, laughing along with their jokes or enjoying their dancing. It wasn’t that they were men specifically, but they were lords, rich lords with far more money and lands than he had. At that moment, he’d wait again, taking you in his arms once you were free. His usual quick step and cadence would seem slower, more deliberate, as he’d bring you closer to him. He’d be smiling, but he’d whisper all the things he could give you, how much better he was than them, and how they’d all hurt you anyway.
BERIC DONDARRION
Sometimes around the campfire with the Brotherhood, they burst into song and drunkenly dance along. You often felt a little out of place with them, even if you believed in them, as you were a highborn lady. They began singing a song you were familiar with, and since you had a few drinks yourself, you pulled Beric up with you, asking for a dance. He surprised you with properly holding your waist and hand, and you remembered he was a lord before this.
The men began to whistle and holler as you two attempted a waltz, but eventually it came back to you and you guided him. He laughed, as he had mostly forgotten, and cooed about how cute and lovely you looked. Eventually you slipped a bit and he caught you, picked you up and sat you back down with him, giving you plenty of kisses and holding him to you. You teased him, saying you wanted to keep dancing, and he promised he’d join you anytime you wanted one.
He knows you left behind a lot to join the Brotherhood, and as much as you say you love him, he still sometimes worries and just wants you to be happy. So he’s sees no problem in indulging in your dancing and singing, and often gets overwhelmed with how precious you are during those times.
Since he learned how much you enjoyed it, sometimes he’d surprise you, scooping you up and pulling you into a dance. Beric adored hearing you laugh with happiness, and he thought you looked especially pretty when two danced around the fire. Sometimes you’d jokingly teach his men how to dance ‘proper’, and even though they were playing around, Beric would get a little forlorn and eventually pull you back to him.
TORMUND GIANTSBANE
When you tried explaining to Tormund what galas and dancing in the South was like, he’d be quite confused, not understanding the point of it, but he just loved to hear you talk and describe it. Eventually he’d ask for a demonstration, and since you two were alone, you’d sigh and give it a try. “Well, it would be a bit easier to show you if I had another person-”
Instantly he’d stand up, and you’d laugh at his enthusiasm. You’d take his hands and guide him, rolling your eyes at his whistling when he grasps your waist and instantly brings you close to him. You try to attempt a few steps, but he’s having so much fun holding onto you and peppering you with kisses that you just laugh and let him.
He’d try to show you some wildling dances he’s picked up, although they’re few and far between, and mostly ceremonial. Again, he’d have so much fun watching you that he’d get distracted and just want to hold you.
At some point, when you’d all be gathered around a fire, someone brought up galas. You jokingly danced with Jon, who could somewhat remember the steps, and Tormund suddenly felt a little jealous. He got between the two of you, again holding to you and bringing you to his lap. He’d want to try it again, although he’d be quite drunk and would just end up holding you to him and swaying. You’d give him several kisses, all while whispering what sort of dresses you’d wear for him and how you two would dance. More than once you two would’ve been told to get a room.
#game of thrones#got#asoiaf#reader-insert#game of thrones imagine#stannis baratheon#renly baratheon#petyr baelish#ramsay bolton#roose bolton#bronn#sandor clegane#beric dondarrion#tormund giantsbane#theon greyjoy#jamie lannister#tyrion lannister#tywin lannister#jorah mormont#davos seaworth#jon snow#benjen stark#ned stark#robb stark#sansa stark#daenerys targeryan#brynden tully#edmure tully#loras tyrell#margaery tyrell
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