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achaoticeternal · 7 months

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electric touch

aemond targaryen x niece!reader

summary: while taking a visit to the royal library, you come across aemond who seems to have a small gift for you. word count: 1.1k warnings: afab!reader, targcest, reader is mentioned to have violet eyes but that is the only descriptor. a/n: this was just a little drabble I thought of. i'm trying to get back into the grove of writing after my summer hiatus.

Though King’s Landing was quite an enticing place to visit, the climate at Dragonstone seemed to accommodate her taste better. Where Dragonstone held warm air and cooling sea breezes, King’s Landing lacked such a luxury. Whenever Rhaenyra made visits to the capitol with her daughter, neither princess slept well for their own reasons. Both, however, missed their own beds and comforts of home.

Currently, the younger Targaryen princess was making her way down the aisles of the library. Particularly, she found herself in the special collection that her uncle had curated. Books that varied from philosophy, the history of Old Valyria, and even strategies of ancient wars. However, sprinkled in between were books that contained the sweetest words held in between pages. Yes, both she and Aemond held a secret bond over the lines of fine poetry.

It was a love they learned as children. Whenever Aemond was not training or being tormented by his brother and nephews, he would accompany his niece at the weirwood tree. Helaena would not be too far off either, allowing the creatures in the gardens to climb into her gentle hands.

Such a memory caused a small smile to grace her lips as she reached for a book that had been well-loved.

“Have you come to wreck my shelves?” The voice interrupted her abruptly.

She jumped away from her spot, the breath returning to her lungs when she recognized the man. Her hands went to smooth out her skirts, “Good day to you, uncle…”

The lady went to reach for the book again. Still, it remained just out of reach. The scoff sounding next to her changed her focus once more.

“Have you not considered using your words to ask for help, riñītsos?” He questioned.

Little Girl.

Sighing at his question, she moved back from the shelf. As she faced him, her eyes flicked from the book to his gaze. Though her actions were childish, she did not anticipate being denied her wish, “Kostilus…” Please.

His dismissive hum could be heard as he moved in front of her. With ease, he gripped the spine of the book before bringing it down. Aemond held onto it for a moment, eye scanning over the cover. Epics of Old Valyria.

“I see you’ve been working on your native tongue,” the prince stated nonchalantly, “Though it is still peculiar to me as to why you deem it fit to borrow from my personal collection?”

The corners of her lips dropped at his words, “And do you enjoy withholding the pleasure of knowledge?”

His violet eye slowly trailed up her height. Both of them had grown since they’d last shared each other’s company. This was evident to both parties. Her eye then met her own violet ones as a chuckle played on his lips, “Withholding pleasure is enjoyable for some people.”

Her posture straightened immediately, the innuendo not going unnoticed. She took the book from his grip, preparing to move past him and back to the security of her mother’s chambers.

The princess did not make it more than two paces before his hand shot out to grasp at her forearm. His touch was not harsh, yet there was no warm to it either, “What are you forgetting?”

She breathed out in audible frustration. Her eyes still trained toward the exit of the library, keeping her distracted from his intense gaze, “Are you not supposed to be in attendance of the small council meeting? Or has your seat been taken?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened at the taunt. However, his demeanor remained relatively calm.

Finally, she answered him properly, “Kirimvose.” Thank you.

After a pause of silence, she craned her neck to look up at Aemond. Her gaze was met with a playful smirk, “Issa daorun” You’re welcome.

However, his hold did not retreat from her forearm. Instead, he continued, “I have a little gift for you. Consider it a welcoming present for my favorite niece.”

“Careful, uncle,” Her eyes refocused on his face. The rest of the library remained at a soft focus, “You wouldn’t want to hurt poor Jaehaera’s feelings.”

His upper tip seemed to curl into a snarl at the quick-witted comment. Releasing his hold, his hands went to the pockets of his doublet, eyeing the item within it. Pulling out the piece, a finely forged Valyrian steel chain dangled from his nimble fingers. Resting at the bottom of the chain was a pendant of a singular dragon with a sapphire for an eye. The craftsmanship itself must have cost a fortune, not to mention the installation of such a fine gemstone.

“Kepus,” Her voice lulled, “Gevie…”

Without a word, Aemond moved to stand behind her. His gentle touch caressed her upper back as he moved her hair onto one shoulder. The cool pendant rested atop her bosom, sending tingles throughout her chest. The chain itself snaked around the delicate skin of her neck where he now clasped it together, “Dōna zaldrītsos,” Aemond purred.

As she turned back to face him, her lithe fingers toyed at the pendant. She quickly grew accustomed to the weight of it and the metallic feel against her skin, “Where did you find such a necklace?”

The look on his face was passive as if he could not drop his uncaring disguise, “I had it made for you.”

As her browed raised in motion for him to continue, Aemond added on, “I figured it would be to your liking.”

She took a moment, eyes flickering from the leather he wore to the steel chain at her neck.

“I see,” She nodded, “And what moved you to commission such a fine piece?”

Unbeknownst to the lady, Aemond fought an inner battle. He wished to step closer to her and reach out once more. He hated that he could easily despise his nephews, but never her… Not the girl whom he read poetry with between lunch and tea time. The girl who was now a woman grown before him. His greatest torment and object of his deepest affections.

Aemond faced her once more, bringing up his hand to toy with the pendant at her chest now, “The thought of you wearing it for me…”

---

all feedback is greatly appreciated. my ask box is open for requests.

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fandom-puff · 5 months

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“I’m not jealous, it’s just your mine” with Tywin Lannister, please? Ty😘

Thank you for this request!

Warnings: suggestive content/ pre smut but no actual ,,, action. Jealous/possessive Tywin. Arranged marriage vibes, but reader and Tywin have kind of acquiesced with one another and have a mutual respect for each other. Reference to sexual harassment from another party. Fem!reader

You allowed Tywin to steer you away from the festivities, your hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, nails discretely stroking at the luxurious velvet of his crimson doublet. As he practically frogmarched you from the great hall, you flashed cordial smiles at the people you passed, while your husband’s mouth was set in a hard line.

Expecting him to take you straight to his chambers, you frowned in confusion as he took you into the gardens, the crisp, salt air refreshing on your heated face. “My lord?” You questioned.

“Are you alright, wife?” Tywin said, standing you in front of him, holding your upper arms as he looked down at you, scanning your face for any hint of upset.

“Yes, I’m fine,..” you said, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“I swear, I’ll have that fool’s hands if he touches you again,” he said lowly, more to himself than to you. When you cocked your head to the side, one of his hands snaked to the back of your neck, cradling your head with a surprising gentleness. “You’re not to dance with Lord Robar again,” he said firmly.

It dawned on you what had irritated Lord Tywin so. Lord Robar had asked for a dance, which you had granted. What you didn’t permit was the roving hands all over your waist and bottom. “You’re jealous, husband,” you said, and Tywin’s frown deepened when he saw the flirtation glinting in your eyes, the teasing lilt in your voice.

He pulled you closer. “I am not jealous, wife,” he said lowly, pressing his body to yours- and you were sure you could feel the hardening outline of his cock. “You are mine,” his breath skittered across your neck, making you shiver as your back pressed against the rough stone wall of Casterly rock. You gasped when you felt him shoving up your scarlet skirt, and felt his hand between your thighs, his fingers pressed against your dampening entrance, the heel of his hand firmly against your clit.

“This,” he grunted into your ear as the coastal wind swallowed your moans. “Is mine,”

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#blurb #Tywin Lannister blurb #tywin lannister smut #tywin lannister x reader #Tywin Lannister x you #Tywin Lannister x reader blurb #Tywin Lannister x reader smut #tywin lannister imagine #request #game of thrones smut #game of thrones blurb

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

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“ʟᴀᴅʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ.” | ʀ. ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ

Not my GIFs!

Robb Stark x Tyrell!Reader

summary: A request for something fluff with Robb Stark!

word counts: 1.8k

warnings: kind of protective!Robb, fluff, more fluff, first-time pregnancy, a bit of angst, but really just a hint

author’s note: I’m really happy about my first request (and work) for Robb because he was my first GoT love :D But I’m not really happy with how this one turned out, so I am really sorry. The next one hopefully will get better! Edit: I just saw that tumblr messed up with my writing, so I edited it!

The puffing breaths of the black horse condensated in the cold air around her, the sound of heavy hooves sinking into the soft ground of the forest floor was the only sound echoing through the tall-growing trees around Winterfell. It was always peaceful out here, which was such a stark contrast to the busyness within the walls of the castle that YN loved to escape from time to time. She loved her life up here, as Lady of Winterfell, far from her former home where she was as useless as a pretty bush of roses.

Growing up in Highgarden, down in the Reach, had been pleasant but never fulfilling. As the eldest daughter of Lord Mace Tyrell and younger sister to Willas Tyrell, her father’s heir, she had nothing else to do but marry an old, lazy lord and continue and secure his unsuccessful lineage. Her father never had a high aim for his eldest daughter, even though her grandmother Olenna always had a greater future planned for the Golden Rose of Highgarden—in her grandmother’s eyes, she had been the perfect match for a king or prince. Olenna never wanted to waste her precious granddaughter to a low lord as her imbecile of a son had in mind. Instead, the Queen of Thorns had managed to secure an alliance with the North, and the match had been, luckily, a love match. It had taken time, but the instant sympathy and attraction from both had been a reliable support for a blossoming romance.

It certainly had helped that YN was quite fond of the winter and cold.

The sudden sound of heavy paws ripped the woman back into reality, and turning in her saddle, her eyes almost immediately spotted the dark grey dire wolf prowling through the forest, his bright eyes trained on her. Smiling, YN whistled softly, and Grey Wind trotted over the small path and sided with her on their slow way back to the castle.

Riding through the gates, the Lady of Winterfell was greeted with respectfully bowed heads by the guards while some of the children waved before getting ushered back to their tasks. Hullen, the master of horse, exited the stables at the sight of his returning lady and walked over to the courtyard. His left hand grabbed for the reins while he extended his right to YN to help her down, but he thought it through and pulled his hand back again. He knew that his lady was more than capable of getting off the horse herself. YN slid off the saddle and down onto the hard ground. “Thank you, Hullen. Treat him with the biggest apple you can find—he deserves it,” the woman smiled while patting the strong neck of her beautiful stallion Robb had gifted her shortly after their wedding. Aden had been her trustworthy companion on her rides ever since.

“Of course, m’lady,” the master of horse said, bowed his head, and led the horse back to the stables. Meanwhile, YN turned around to see Robb striding towards her, the dark fur on his cloak framing his handsome face, his dark curls still a tad tussled from their escapades a few hours prior. Smiling, the former Tyrell waited patiently until he reached her—strong hands enveloping her frame beneath the black cloak she had thrown over earlier, their faces only mere inches apart. “Wife,” he whispered in a greeting before nuzzling his nose against hers. “Husband,” YN returned, smile still on her lips, while her glove-clad fingers tangled themselves in his brown curls.

Softly and lovingly, the eldest Stark son pressed his lips to hers, and YN sighed deeply at the familiar feeling of his kisses, which still ignited a fire in her body, unlike anything she had ever felt in her life. Kissing Robb was always thrilling, always on the brink of satisfaction, and it always made her feel loved and cherished. YN really was grateful for her grandmother’s plans for her very person.

“I was worried,” the Stark mumbled against his wife’s lips before distancing himself a bit to intently eye her face. “Grey Wind was a great companion on our way home.” Robb smiled at her words but soon turned serious again. “You did not overdo it, love?” Softly, YN shook her head while her thumb caressed his cheek tenderly. “We were perfectly safe,” she promised in a whisper and laughed under her breath as the strong, serious man sighed deeply and let his hand rest on her lower stomach where a slight curve had made its appearance several weeks ago—and which kept growing steadily. “I only want you two safe and sound.”

Instead of saying something, YN pulled Robb down at his neck and kissed him with all she had, while his hand kept laying atop his first, still unborn, child.

With pleased looks on their faces stood Catelyn and Ned at the railing circling the walls of Winterfell and watched their firstborn son and first daughter-in-law. “I cannot remember seeing him this happy,” the mother mumbled while Ned held her close. “I am sure he wasn’t before she stepped into his life and turned everything upside down. I know this feeling all too well.” Catelyn looked up to her husband and smiled. “Sometimes it is good to rearrange one’s reality. It certainly didn’t harm Robb.” Ned laughed deep in his chest. “No, it definitely did not. Quite the opposite. Are you happy, Cat?” At her husband’s question, Catelyn looked up again and nodded. “I am. She is perfect for him, he is perfect for her. They await their firstborn, Maester Luwin thinks it will be a pleasant pregnancy judging by the signs so far. My son is happy, and that is all a mother can hope for.”

;

The sound of cracking wood in the grand fireplace accompanied YN in her endeavors to rise from the furred and soft chairs in front of the warm fire in their bedchambers. Suddenly, the door got opened, and Robb entered their room; the sight of his struggling wife pushed a smile on his lips. He closed the door behind him and walked over to her. “You know I can help you with that, love?” His teasing voice tickled a groan out of her, and the pregnant woman gave her attempts up. “This is nothing to laugh about. I’m not even halfway through this pregnancy and already struggling with the easiest tasks—getting out of this bloody chair on my own, for one instance,” she grumbled, and the Stark laughed lightly under his breath before kneeling down in front of his wife.

“I love you,” he told her with the most serious expression. “I love you both.” And with that, Robb bent his head and pressed a lingering kiss on her ever-growing stomach. Her fingers instantly tangled themselves in his soft brown strands, and a smile full of contentment stretched across her lips. “You are lucky you are the most loving husband in all of the Seven Kingdoms. If not, I would have chased you away a long time ago.” Robb grinned up to her and leaned his face further into her hand, which caressed his cheek, his soft beard tickling her skin. “I must be really lucky then,” he mumbled before spreading her legs and pulling his wife to the edge of the chair.

She gasped for air and rested her arms around his neck as Robb held her close and raised to his feet with her in his arms. The man carried her to the fur-covered bed and lowered her onto the soft mattress. “We have a family gathering to attend,” YN reminded the lord, but Robb only climbed over her and situated himself in the furs, pulling her body closer to his by her waist. “They will not die if we miss one dinner.” Her skin muffled his voice as he littered her throat with soft kisses before she pulled his face up.

They stared into each other’s eyes, the blissful atmosphere seeping into every corner of the room, and their body relaxed even more. YN let the tip of her nose brush against his, and Robb sighed, turning into the soft man he always was around his wife.

It still amazed him how his life had turned ever since the Golden Rose of Highgarden had entered it. Before the fateful day of her arrival, Robb Stark had only lived for his family and duty as the firstborn son of Ned Stark and future Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. He had held objections against marriage as both parents had reached out to him with the suggestion of finding and taking a wife as future Lady of Winterfell. He had never shown any interest in the daughters of the northern houses, and as his mother came to him with a letter from the Reach, he had been… intrigued but still unsure if he was ready to be a husband. But his mother and Lady Olenna had arranged a meeting halfway through the realm, and Robb must’ve been blind if he didn’t feel the attraction towards the woman now lying safely in his arms.

The thought of her in another man’s arms alone made his blood boil, and instantly, his arms enveloped her closer and pulled the woman closer and closer.

“Are you happy?”

Robb’s unsure voice pulled YN out of the daze she had fallen in while almost drowning in his dark, kind eyes, and her brows furrowed tremendously. “Do I seem unhappy? Not content?” She asked in return, now unsure herself. YN never wanted to make the impression of being unhappy up in the north, or as if she wanted to return home to the south, back to the warmth, because quite the opposite was the case. In the four years since their small wedding ceremony in the Godswoods, YN recalled not one single day filled with longing thoughts for her former home.

The Stark barely shrugged and propped himself up on one arm, looming now over her. His other hand softly caressed the soft strands of her hair spreading over the pillows. “I suppose no one ever asked you if you want to be dragged up here in the cold north. A place without the lush gardens of Highgarden, always cold and icy…-“ But YN pressed her finger against his lips to silence him. “Robb,” she whispered tenderly, grabbing his chin in her fingers and stroking over his beard with her thumb. “Do you really believe I would still be here if I were unhappy? That I would have married you and vowed my love in front of your family, in front of the gods?” Robb looked helpless as he shrugged again, and YN smiled up at him while taking his hand from her face and letting it rest on her stomach. “I would not be carrying your child if I wasn’t happy with you in the cold north, with you by my side. I was never this content in my life than here in Winterfell.” A soft grin graced her lips, and Robb sighed, clearly put at ease. “I don’t know where those thoughts came from. Sometimes the things Theon says about you are getting to my head,” the Stark tried to explain himself, but YN only shook her head. “It is all right, my love. And specifically for your mind: You are making me the happiest woman in all of Westeros.”

;

This got really shitty, and I’m super unhappy with it, but the ideas didn’t want to come for another piece, so I went with this one. I’m sorry for even uploading it xD As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated! Thanks for reading <3

#robb stark x reader #robb stark request #robb stark x fem!reader #robb stark x pregnant!reader #robb stark fanfiction #robb stark fanfic #robb stark blurb #robb stark oneshot #robb stark imagine #robb stark #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones blurb #game of thrones imagine

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 year

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Hey! I love your writing. I was wondering if you'd be willing to write an AU blurb of Babey losing her unborn child? If not, that's okay! Thankyou!

Hey, nonnie! Sorry it's taken so long to get this one out - I PROMISE I keep all my requests and will probably get to them eventually. I was in the right headspace for this one, so I hope you like!

THIS IS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE BLURB, DO NOT PANIC!!!

aemma (a 'terms of endearment' au)

GIF by @targaryenlaena

Your daughter is perfect.

Triggers: WARNING - MISCARRIAGE/STILLBIRTH, incest, age gap, purity culture.

She is so small, you think in wonder.

The sound of sniffling midwives is easy to ignore in the peace of the moment. In the wake of your efforts, all you can see is your babe. Cradling her red-slicked form close to your chest, you marvel at the downy-soft pale of her hair peeking through the viscera, the tiniest fingers and toes, the puckered mouth and the sweet button nose. You made this. She is perfect.

Why is she not breathing?

Your pains had started abruptly – too abruptly. You had thought your womb was ripping in two within you, such was the agony of the feeling. All you had done was pull yourself off the chaise to relieve your aching back, and suddenly your smallclothes were wet with dark and your body was turning itself inside out.

“Daemon!” you had squalled, scrabbling at the fabric between your legs.

When he ventured from his desk, you had noticed the curiosity in his expression turn to panic, to anger, to despair, and then blankness in dizzying speed. The hard line of his lips and the set of his brow had been akin to a man carved from stone as he barked for the guards to fetch the Maester, to retrieve the midwives, to seek out your sister.

“Sh,” he had soothed, hand on your back as he walked you to the bed. “You’re alright, sweetling. Just… just let it happen.”

You had not understood what he meant by it. What choice did you have? There had been very little control to wield in the throes of torment, and you were forced to your side on the mattress as you heaved for breath through the strain of it.

Daemon sits beside you, dispelling your absent pondering.

“What–” he stops, swallows. He reaches tentatively for the peach fuzz atop her head, fingers trembling through the silver moonshine and down across the velveteen skin of her darling little cheek. “What will we name her?”

One of the midwives sobs. The Maester drops something, and a loud clatter rings throughout the room. You bring your hand up to shield her delicate ears from the sound.

Gerardys was a great help, you muse. He had been grave-faced and resolute as he strode into your rooms, handily taking command of the gaggle of disconcerted staff milling about as you had moaned and shivered, prone.

“It may be best for you to leave, my Prince,” he had murmured to your husband, laying out the instruments from his case as the midwives helped you strip to your shift and pull the sheets back. “This will be a wretched affair, I’m afraid.”

“I’m not leaving my wife,” Daemon had replied sternly.

You had felt his eyes on you even through the teeth-chattering hurt that ignited like sparks in your bloodstream. Your belly clenched like a fist, forcing a pop and a stream of bloody fluid from between your legs. At your wail, he had looked away with a tense jaw.

“There’s no hope, then?”

Gerardys had paused. “It is too early,” he murmured, a look of such contrition and sorrow on his face that you had been overcome with the urge to reach forth and comfort him through your own pain.

The rest is a blur. Through sweat and tears and the bestial sounds emanating from somewhere so deep inside you that you had not known it existed, the bed had become sticky and rank with the scent of copper and gore and terror. It had made you retreat into yourself, to a place where the increasingly regular paroxysms could not touch you, and you had found a sense of quiet and calm there.

All at once, her body had slipped from you with a gush, and the protracted silence had lingered for what feels like an age.

What is her name? Kepa is waiting for an answer.

You lean into him, smiling faintly at the feel of his lips against your temple. He curls around you and the babe, grip a little too tight for comfort, but you do not mind.

You are at peace. All you can feel is love.

“Aemma,” you say, cooing it down to your precious, still child.

She is no longer warm in your arms, little body tepid like the air in the chamber around you. You hold her closer, skin to skin, impressing your heat into her.

“Her name is Aemma.”

I am sorry for this. 'TIS AN AU BLURB, NO MORE!

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tinfairies · 2 years

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I saw that you are accepting requests. I totally think aemond would go behind his relatives' backs to get what he wants. So you can do aemond x aunt hightower (the reader is married to alicent's brother gwayne hightower), and she becomes aemond's lover...?

Aemond Targaryen x Aunt!Reader

(we will pretend that Otto passes away sooner in the timeline)

The funeral was small, family and close friends only. Alicent refused to make a spectacle of her father's passing, even if he was Hand of the King. Few words were said and the only one that truly cried was Alicent's only daughter Helaena. Quick and quiet was Otto's funeral, not for lack of respect, but to not show weakness to Rhaenyra and her family. Alicent's older brother, Gwayne, had come for the funeral. She knew that a new Hand must be appointed, lest it be filled with a spy of Rhaenyra's. She had gone to her brother and begged him, she couldn't bare to have a weak spot in her position.

"Please, Oldtown will do just fine under our cousins rule. You are the only one fit to be placed as Hand." Alicent held his hands in hers, pleading. Gwayne sighed, he knew how fragile the throne was right now. "I can bring my wife, and son?" he asked. "Absolutely!" Alicent beamed, knowing this news would mean he would accept.

Weeks later, Lord and Lady Hightower moved into the Tower of the Hand. Gwayne was busy with his work and had been all but neglecting his wife. She knew how important his work was but she couldn't help but feel ignored and lonely. She enjoyed the time she spent with her niece, Helaena. Her hobby was quite peculiar, but as long as she was happy. Her eldest nephew Aegon was certainly a piece of work, they hardly spoke aside from formalities, and he was hardly ever present unless called upon by his mother. Her second nephew though, was an enigma. The lady could never tell how he felt about her, he was always around though never seemed hostile. Maybe Aemond didnt trust her? She didn't think he'd have a reason not to, she is his uncles wife after all.

Everywhere the Lady went, Aemond was not far behind. Sometimes she would notice him and sometimes she would not. The lady became accustomed to her personal body guard, he was quite handsome after all; though she would never admit that out loud. She felt uneasy, as if she's betraying her husband. Her nephew is much younger than her, most of all he is her nephew. The lady knew that the Targaryen's often married relatives, keeping the bloodline pure is a big part of Valerion culture. Her faith of The Seven frowned upon incest, it is punishable by death. Still she couldn't help but smile when she saw her nephew, Aemond was something like she had never seen. Looks completely foreign to her, eyes of violet, silver hair; Even his unfortunate scar made him all the more enticing.

Months Aemond had spent in her company, joining her for walks, or late nights in the library. They spoke often about everything and nothing all at once. She would read him tales of old Valyria, and in turn he would share is stories of battles. Always laughing and smiling with one another, feeling began to blossom in the Lady's heart. Her eyes always wandered over his features when she thought he was not looking. Aemond had noticed the way she looked at him, he may be without an eye but that just made him all the more observant. He had been infatuated with his Lady Aunt every since she arrived in King's Landing, her beauty took his breath away. He had to have her.

One night while reading together in the library, Aemond finally allowed himself to be caught staring at her. The Lady's eyes quickly darted back to the book, her cheeks getting hot. "May ask you question?" Aemond asked, never taking his eyes away from her. The Lady nodded, curious as to what he could possibly ask, perhaps it was innocent and her feelings were one sided after all. "Are you happy with your husband?" her stomach dropped and she began to stumble over her words. Aemond was beginning to worry that he may have misread her after all. "Well, I-I wouldn't say I'm unhappy. We've been married so long it feels more like an obligation than a partnership." the Lady rushed her words out, not wanting to speak ill of her husband who had only ever been kind to her. Though as kind as he was, she couldn't say she loved him. " I only ask because it seems you spend more time with me than with him." Aemond's words had meant to be a jab at his uncle. "I don't hate him if that's what you're asking." the Lady seemed defensive, she didn't want more turmoil brought into the castle. "I didn't ask your opinion. I asked if you were happy." Aemond placed a hand on her knee. She was tense, she looked at his hand on her lap then back to Aemond's face. "I could be happier." she said in almost a whisper. Aemond got closer to her. " Could I help with that?" their faces less than a foot from each other now. The Lady closed the space between them, her lips gently pressed against his. Aemond eagerly responded, the hand on her knee rising to cup her jaw. For every deep kiss he gave her, she placed a smaller more gentler one; like a signiture. Signing him like he was hers, Aemond would happily be hers for all eternity.

"Yes you can very much help with that."

#hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #House of the dragon imagine #Aemond Targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #Hotd #house of the dragon #Game of thrones #Game of thrones x reader #Game of thrones imagine #Aemond's social media handle would be 'milf-hunter3000'#smut #blurb

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mothdruid · 2 months

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abby's birthday blurb weekend!

my birthday (March 12th) is upon us once again!! so I'm going to be hosting a last minute blurb weekend!! I'll be accepting blurb requests from tonight until my birthday. so send them in within the next four days!!!

prompts:

- late night

- responses after they kiss you

- coworkers to lovers

- during a storm

- smutty dialogue

characters/fandoms:

- top gun maverick

- the bear

- bridgerton

- joel miller

- brian o'conner

- anakin skywalker

- game of thrones

- house of the dragon

- felix catton

- barry keoghan characters

- adam driver characters

- lewis pullman characters

I'd like to say thank you ahead of time to those who participate and send things in! I can't wait to see what you all send in!! <3

#moths 26th #blurb weekend #top gun maverick #the bear #bridgerton #joel miller #anakin skywalker #game of thrones #house of the dragon #felix catton #barry keoghan #adam driver #lewis pullman #blurb event #brian o'conner

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x-aefx · 1 year

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ONE TIME THING - BELLA RAMSEY (PART3)

Pictures above are not mine

Summary: unbeknownst to you, you meet actor Bella Ramsey. You two hit it off but your paths lead two different directions.

Bella Ramsey x female reader

Warnings: none

Taglist: @evieguhbyebroski @amberputh @assgardangod @just-here-to-read-fanfictions @eddiesgirlsblog

I used she/them pronouns for Bella.

A/N: not proofread !

Part one⬇️

★★

The small piece of paper kept itself crumpled in the back pocket of your trousers for the remainder of your shift. Sometimes you found yourself holding onto it when you zoned out, like some weird necessity.

Everytime you thought your shift was near it's end, you'd look over at the clock and it was like it went back an hour. You didn't know why you were so excited. you knew bella gave you her number so you would text her, but you were dreadful at texting.

Just text bella like you text Aaron.

No. Definitely not.

The seventh time you looked over at the old clock that hung amongst the rest of the decorations displayed on the walls, you felt as if the guy in the clouds finally listened to you for once in your life.

All the burns and pains in your arms you had endured suddenly became worth it.

You ignored the confused faces off your coworkers as you sped past them and towards the door. The cold breeze hit your face Instantly, working in that stuffy café made it very much welcomed.

The taxi ride home was quiet. You exchanged a few words with the driver about the weather and what was happening on the news. The entire ride home your leg shook up and down, from the worry or nerves you couldn't tell.

You watched the life outside you pass you by from the window, 90s greatest hits played on the radio at a low volume, you had the urge to tell the driver to turn it up but decided it was better to leave him alone.

"here we are, miss. "

Your small home came into view. It wasn't the fanciest house, but it was yours and you loved it. It was a small two story brick house, ivy was growing along the side of it (you thought it looked pretty in a way) the design was something straight out of victorian times but that never bothered you. It was cozy and safe and you were able to call it home. Thanking the driver you stepped out of the black vehicle, your phone and purse in your hand.

Walking up the small footpath leading to the dark green door you listened to the sound of the taxi driving away amongst the other traffic, the sounds of children and adults conversing. You made a mental note to replace the flowers that were on your windowsill, their dying petals falling from the plant pot they resided in.

Unlocking the door you stepped out of your shoes and took off your coat. Making your way into the living room you dropped your phone on the couch. You paced back and fourth.

"this is so fucking stupid!" You groaned in frustration as you covered your face with your hands.

The sound of soft padding on the wooden floor captured your attention. Your frustration temporarily gone at the sight.

Toby ran as fast as any kitten could at only a few weeks old. He was only the size of your hand. He sat directly on your foot, looking up at you expectantly.

You laughed, all your thoughts completely gone.

Bending down to pick the tiny fluffball up you craddled him in your arms. Toby rested on his back in your arms, all four paws fighting with the air to try grab at your hair. You rubbed your hand on his white stomach, covered with thick fluffy fur. You kissed his nose.

"I love you buddy. But I wouldn't trust you to protect the house. you sleep in my bed for the entire day."

Toby let out a soft meow. Your heart melted, all the love you had for this little guy couldn't be normal.

"yeah yeah, your life is so hard." You teased. Bending down again you placed him gently on the floor.

Your head turned to your phone once again. You sighed. It was Bella. A complete stranger, but it was still just Bella. Why were you stressing? Closing your eyes for a second you tried to collect your thoughts. You came to the conclusion that a warm shower was needed right now. You would text Bella after.

Leaving your phone where it lay on the couch you made your way for the stairs, only to stop. You turned back around, looking at the floor where you stood, expecting to see Toby only for him to not be there. Your eyes moved to where you placed him Infront of the couch. Toby lay sleeping.

"you've got to be kidding me?" You rolled your eyes. Trust Toby to not be able to stay awake for more than five minutes. Walking back you picked him up again and held him in your arms as you made your way upstairs. Upon entering your room you placed him under your duvet against your pillows: his favorite spot.

Walking into the bathroom you immediately began undressing yourself. You wasted no time before stepping inside the shower. The warm droplets of water felt magical on your skin. The tension in your body relaxed, your mirror fogged with steam. Those twenty minutes you spent in the shower was the most peace you've had the entire day.

When you had eventually gotten out and dressed in a more comfortable attire, you briskly moved down towards the living room. Picking up your phone you walked back up the stairs, you were afraid the more you stopped to think about what you were about to do, the more likely you were not to do it.

Crawling beneath the duvet, you cuddled up beside Toby on your side. Unlocking your phone you typed in Bella's number, you were ashamed that you had stared at the number for so long that you had accidentally learned it off by heart.

What would you say?

Hey, bella, it's me a random texting you at night! How are you?

Hey! It's the girl that can't stop thinking of you!

Good evening Bella, it's the stranger who sat beside you on the bus.

Fuck. My. Awkwardness.

You envied Bella for her boldness. Perhaps if you had given them your number first, they would have to be the one to start the conversation first, not you.

Pondering it some more in your head, your thumb began moving around your keyboard once again.

Oh my god

The moment you pressed 'send' you regretted it immediately.

''They're going to think I'm such a weirdo.'' you groaned. You ruined all imaginary chances you had with Bella.

"why do I do this to myself?" You whispered.

★★

"I take offense! I give great advice!"

"right. And how exactly has that ended?"

"I literally get called 'daddy' everyday by people on the internet."

Bella rolled their eyes knowing Pedro could see it as they were on FaceTime.

Bella rested their chin in their hand as they continued to listen to Pedro's rambling. Laying on their bed whilst on call with Pedro was one of their favorite ways to spend their evenings, especially when moments like these were rare considering both of their busy timetables.

Bella's eyes briefly looked up at the incoming notification before going back to Pedro. Only when the realization fully hit them a second later did she do a double take. Suddenly sitting up on her bead, Bella reread the notification over and over again in disbelief.

It's was a message from an unknown number.

"hey, it's y/n."

A simple three word text that meant the absolute world to Bella. Their heart was beating like crazy at the thought of you. Bella could imagine your face in their mind right now. You standing there looking all pretty.

Bella smiled widely.

They were terrified that they had scared you off, creeped you out by showing up at your work and giving you their number before they ran off. And when you hadn't texted them earlier, it confirmed their thoughts in their mind. It saddened them, thankfully they managed to call Pedro at a time when he wasn't busy. Bella had managed to avoid the thought of you and the possibility that they had ruined all imaginary chances that they had with you.

Until now, now it was all they could think about.

"what's got you all smiley then, huh?"

"nothing, hey I gotta go-something came up-"

"Are you blushing!" Pedro accused whilst he laughed at his friends reddened face.

"no-i have to go bye!"

"hey you didn't answer my question -"

Call ended

Bella rolled onto their stomach as they opened their messages, clicking on your text. They felt all giddy inside, like they were a child again.

Quickly they typed out a response.

Bella bit their lip anxiously as they continually read over their response waiting to find something wrong with it.

"Please don't think I'm a weirdo" Bella whispered desperately to herself.

★★

You squealed once you read Bella's message.

There was no getting rid of the smile on your face.

Immediately you started typing again.

This time you felt a little less nervous about texting Bella, the nerves were replaced with excitement.

The 'sent' changed to 'seen' immediately. You watched with anticipation as the three dots moved.

You giggled. You knew Bella was referring to seeing them act on the show. You must admit the urge to ask a trillion questions about their acting career and each of their characters was strong, but you didn't want Bella to see you as some overbearing, nosy fan.

You were laughing now. Everytime you read another of Bella's texts, the more your face reddened and the fluttering feeling in your stomach multiplied.

You let out a breath.

You hoped you hadn't fucked everything up now.

Please don't think I'm a weirdo

★★

Bella's whole face was red now.

They smiled widely as they kept reading your messages.

You knew who they were!

The thought made Bella excited. A different sort of excitement, almost proud in a way.

You thought they were cool!

Bella laughed in joy and partly because of the flustered feeling they got from thoughts of you.

Play it cool Bella

Bella hid their face in their hands, dropping their hold on their phone instantly like it was lava.

Now matter what, their smile was not ceasing and neither were their giggles or butterflies in their stomach.

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ruinedbylanadelrey · 1 year

Note

Can I request an Oberyn Martelle x plus!size reader I was thinking maybe Oberyn and the reader used to be married until he left the reader for Ellaria they were both a happy normal couple until he met Ellaria and fell in love with her and he cheated on the reader because she found them having sex in their shared home when he left the reader he told her that he was in love will Ellaria and he was going to marry her the reader just told him to be happy when he left the reader was pregnant she raised her son alone she named him Max so the reader had to attend that wedding that they where having and she ran into Oberyn and his wife Ellaria she ran into them when she was trying to talk to Tyrion Lannister about how it’s not good to give her son weapons so he could practice being a freaking hero max was only 5 he just ignored her Oberyn and Ellaria where making out in front of the reader so time passed and when the reader attended the festival max was running trying to chase his new pet that’s a little baby wolf but when he was chasing his pet he ran into the circle where Oberyn and Ellaria where talking max bumped into Oberyn the reader found him and said to be careful and not to run off Oberyn saw the resemblance to himself and max the reader told max his dad was dead to protect him from the ugly truth when max left to get some candy Oberyn held the reader back a asked if max was his son the reader told said yes he asked her why didn’t she tell him she didn’t tell him because he was going to marry Ellaria so what’s the point in telling him ( No happy ending here)

OBERYN<3

i love my fellow bisexual with all my heart.

Bad Omens | Oberyn Martell x Plus size!Reader

inspired by Bad Omens by 5 Seconds of Summer

warnings: allusion to smut, mention of pregnancy, infidelity, talk of body image

wc: 1K

masterlist

The beautiful prince of Dorne chose you to be his wife, his little wife is what would he say to you. You always rolled your eyes at the word 'little' because you weren't a frail girl from the brothel, you were plush in the hips, thighs, and stomach. But 'little' was for how much younger you are than Oberyn, the innocence you possess. He loved he could dominate your body and your mind.

You both worked because you were able to submit to him easily. He never wanted to take over your being but you wanted him to. He loved how you would always be there waiting for him with your open heart and legs.

Embarrassment was an understatement for what you felt when your prince was slamming his hips into another woman. Not just any woman but the breathtaking Ellaria who spent nights between your thick loins and your husbands. The nights spent together never separate until the day you found out you are carrying his child.

You wanted to run and hide from the world around you. This love was going to be the death of you and you knew that you promised to be his forever. "I found myself in another, my soul is bound to her," Oberyn's cut deep into you and he just watched you bleed. You didn't want to give the satisfaction of crying over him but you told him that you can not hold the prince back from being truly happy.

Giving up the person who was your air and water was change that made you not see the next day to come. You wanted the hurt to go away and would do anything to not still love Oberyn.

You would have dreams of you crying in his dark brown eyes. You watched yourself die the day he left you. Life was growing inside of you and pushed the dark days because you had to do for the love inside of you.

It was all a rumor that he had another child out there with the woman he once loved. You couldn't bring yourself to let the world tell him the truth and it was best that it was kept as a tale. You would tell people that the child on your hip was a foundling. That the lords gave you a mission to be a mother when you lost a chance of family to a child who needed a mother.

People believe anything they hear so when they believed the small fabrication it made life easy for you to move on from the past life you had ripped from your hands.

When you gave life to a boy your heart was welded back together, he was the spitting image of your old heart. The same dark brown hair, the nose, the pouting bottom lips. As Maxwell got older his curious mind grew with him, asking you to tell him about his father. "Your father, he...he would've loved you," You tried to find the words to explain to the young boy. It was easy to lie, "He's dead and there's nothing we can do change it."

You got word about the wedding of Oberyn and Ellaria from the people in Kings Landing, and you wanted to scream and plead for the news to not be true.

The truth hit you right in the face when you caught a glimpse of the display of affection, seeing his lips attached to hers. Your throat became tight since choking back the tears carried with memories of loving him and everything that was encased with him.

You wanted to rip him from her claws, but the vows were said and done. Your son, looked at you and could see the tears falling down your face. He pulled on the embellishments of your dress, you looked down at him and smiled to play off you were happy for the couple.

Another festival where people stuff their faces. You sat and watched Max follow around his new pet that you allow him to bring everywhere. You talked with a couple of people seated around you, Maxwell wanders out of your sight and knocks into the man who you wanted to keep him from. Your son looks up in horror as he didn't mean to run into anyone. Oberyn smiles at the small boy and looks at him.

He thinks he's looking into a mirror of the past, he sees him as a child. You could sense that your son was in trouble, you excuse yourself and start to look at the grounds for him. You walk upon your son and Oberyn mirroring each other, you wished that ground would swallow you up. Max looks at you and runs to your side, hiding himself behind you.

"Maxwell, go wait for mother at the table," You said as you stepped closer to Oberyn, you waited for the footsteps to sound out of reach. The energy between the two you was high, you wanted to fall in his arms and feel his warmth.

You wanted to be back with him, but he wasn't yours to keep. He searched in your eyes for the answer to his unasked question. You couldn't bare to look at him a second longer.

You turn yourself around and pulled back before you take the first step to walk away. "Is the child of my blood?" The tone of his voice seemed like he was begging. It seemed foreign as the question left his lips.

You kept silent because you couldn't trust yourself to be strong enough to not cry to him. "How did you not tell me this news?" another beg left his mouth, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. The heat from his skin seemed to blister your skin making you want to run away.

"The hidden secret would have not brought you back to me. To bare myself to you once more was a pain I would not put myself through again," You didn't want to be right but your words were the truth for the time. He looked at you like you committed a crime in front of him. "You bounded yourself to another and my love for you is greater than ruining your chance at having heaven on earth." you choked on your words.

He saw how selfless you still were, how willing you were to put him before yourself still after a divorce and bearing his child. "You don't owe me or him anything. All he knows is that his father is dead," Your words washed over him and Oberyn wanted to give you the life deserved. To be kept and cared for but it will never happen again.

#oberyn x reader #oberyn martell #oberyn x plus size!reader #oberyn martell x reader #game of thrones #oberyn martell blurb

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januaryembrs · 1 year

Text

MASTERMIND | Theon Greyjoy x Bolton!reader

Request: @marsconer says - hii!! hru? the requests are still open? if so i can request for a theon one, with mastermind by taylor swift as a prompt?

description: You knew you wanted him, none of it was accidental. Theon had no idea the Bolton bastards were masterminds.

Word count: 1.1k

trigger warnings: dark!reader. reader is not mentally well and believes Theon loves her even though he doesn't know her. RAMSAY KINDNESS? Ramsay loving the Reader as her brother. hints of Theon's torture.

main masterlist

authors notes: First I'm so sorry this is so late to be published things have taken a turn in my life and writing has had to be put on the back burner. but I'm back! and I'm trying something new, I've never done a dark reader before. I hope this was okay! I feel like its not but I'm trying :)

You knew you wanted him the moment you set your eyes on the Stark’s ward.

He wouldn’t recognise you, how could he? The last time you’d ever seen him he was a teenager, too busy chasing girls in pretty skirts and competing with Robb for the fair maiden’s attention to take note of such a plain, quiet girl like you.

Ramsay noticed you staring almost immediately. Being your older brother, possibly the only person in the world who understood you and loved you since you were both Bolton bastards, he was determined to give his sweet, little monster anything she wanted.

“He’s caught your eye, sister?” His ice-blue eyes followed your entranced gaze to see the scrawny Greyjoy boy, too busy yanking a maid’s pigtails to notice you looking. His eyebrows furrowed, “Are you sure you don’t want someone stronger? Someone who could protect you and whatever babes you give him,”

“He has a kind face,” The maid squealed, and noble Ned Stark leant forward to smack both Rob and Theon across the ears to set them in place. “You will get him for me one day, won’t you Ramsay?”

Ramsay looked down at you from your place at the back of the dining hall. Being bastard children, you were not permitted to sit with your father beside the noblemen. Instead, you were among the last to collect your supper, drank the dregs of the wine the other Stark council did not consume, sat near the chill of the open windows. You had less in this world one might think for those born to a nobleman like Roose, but Ramsay had always made sure you had the best he could get, even if it meant getting his knuckles bloodied as it did most of the time.

“Of course, sweet-hearted. Anything you want is yours. When you’re of age to marry, he will be yours,” He smiled with too many teeth as he always did, making his face look sinister to others, but to you he was your dearest brother. The only one who understood the way your mind worked, in a way that others would call twisted you called unique.

Watching Theon Greyjoy that day, you knew your brother would never fail you.

Ramsay made good on his promise as he always did. A few days after your ten and eighth birthday, he led you down to the lower passages of Dreadfort claiming he had a present for you. You had never quite forgotten about the Stark’s ward. But with the chaos the people were now calling the war of five kings, you had some trouble keeping up with his whereabouts. He had betrayed the Starks, killed the youngest two boys, boys he had grown up with like brothers, all for his own gain of power.

Nothing could make you so certain he was perfect for you. A man who would stab his company in the back in the name of helping his genuine family was exactly the man you wanted.

You had always known he would be special, that he would understand the way your mind ticked. While everyone called you cruel, he would love you the way you loved him.

So when he led you to Dreadfort dungeons, and there was Theon Greyjoy, strung to a flaying cross, you felt your heart swell in excitement.

“For you, my dear sister. Just as I always promised,” Ramsay presented the man, who looked scruffier than the last time you had seen him, just a few months before the war started. Again you had been just a fly on the wall in Winterfell, but this time was different. This time he would know who you were, know just as well as you did you were perfect for each other.

You squealed, squeezing your brother around the waist in a tight hug. “I knew you could do it, I knew you would never disappoint me,”

“Please help me!” Theon begged, though his words fell on deaf ears as you moved closer to him, “Please let me go, I’m not supposed to be here,”

“Of course you are, silly,” You said, reaching up to unbind his arm. You were smiling at him almost too wide, a crazed look in your eye that you shared with your brother, as though this was all a part of a bigger plan he knew nothing about.

Theon was sure he had seen you before, sure he had felt those two eyes piercing his skull many a time before. But he didn’t know you.

“W-what?” Theon asked, as his first hand was let free, and you began to undo the second, “What do you mean? I need to leave, I need to find my father,”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you just got here. We need to arrange the wedding first,” You said simply, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Poor Theon was confused, and his battered face said as much.

“Wedding? What wedding?”

“Ours, of course,” You replied, working away at the knots in the rope. Theon looked over your shoulder to see Ramsay’s face full of a silent fury, as though he was warning him against upsetting the woman who was trying to free him.

But Theon being Theon was lost, curious. He was disoriented and tired and hungry, and you were making no sense. “Ours?” He cried in shock, “But, I have no idea who you are,”

You froze before the knot could be pulled free and immediately Theon felt the mistake he had made fall over the room in deadly silence.

Your eyes snapped to him, and the manic look was gone, replaced by pure hurt. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?” Theon felt Ramsay’s eyes darken in the shadows of the dungeon. If what he had said before had been a mistake, then those two words felt like a death sentence.

Your bottom lip started quivering. All you had ever wanted, ever dreamed of was fading right in front of your eyes. You were supposed to be his, the way he had always been yours.

“Come, sister,” Ramsay jumped in, tucking you under his arm and leading you to the dungeon door, “I will have a word with your dearest fiance, I fear he is feeling a bit under the weather at the moment,” You retreated away from the Greyjoy boy, knowing sweet Ramsay would fix everything for you as he promised. “Let me have a word with him, make sure he remembers to cherish you even in his sickness,”

You nodded solemnly, your sad eyes never leaving Theon’s fear stricken face as he realised the hidden threat in your brother’s words.

And within moments, the door was closed and he was left with the vengeful face of Ramsay Snow, and Theon wanted for nothing more than to have you back near him, promising him the world.

#theon x reader #theon greyjoy x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #Theon Greyjoy imagine #Theon Greyjoy blurb #Theon Greyjoy fanficiton #stars' 1k follower shebang

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spxllcxstxr · 2 years

Text

Battle Plans • J.S

(Gif not mine)

Request: ok i was thinking maybe i could request a jon snow x reader blurb (my pronouns are she/her but i don’t mind if you don’t want to specify) where jon is going over battle plans and you keep flirting with him and distracting him, i’d love if it could already be an established relationship. — @sarahisslytherin

Summary: Jon thinks constantly about battle and you need to persuade him to finally rest

Warnings: fem!reader, a tad off the request???, maybe suggestive??? Though I tried not to make it too suggestive I guess lmao

Word Count: 630

A.N: first time writing both got and Jon snow so like hopefully it’s all good!!

•

He was pacing around the room, dark fur cloak swirling around at every harsh turn. Occasionally he would speak aloud, though most of it was in his mind, eyes glazed over and deep in thought.

You watch him from his bed, your own fur cloak wrapped around your shoulder keeping the cold at bay. Just by the flickering flame of the candle you can see just how pale his face is, how ghastly he looks. His dark curls are no longer tied back and instead they messily dangle in front of his face. The rugged appearance only gets worse day after day and it’s starting to worry you. Biting your lip, you continue to follow him with your eyes across the room.

This isn’t the only time you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to your love pacing the small stone room. Winter was here and he was tasked with facing it head on.

“Jon,” You softly call out, shifting to lean against the headboard. “Jon, my love, come to bed,”

He continues to pace near the window, giving no indication that he’s heard you at all.

You sigh as you get up from the feather bed, your exposed skin getting nipped at by the cold. The stone flooring sends shivers from the bottoms of your feet all the way up to your spine. The fire across the room had burnt out hours ago leaving the room dark with a chill lingering in the air.

Pressing yourself into the dark cloak on his back, you wrap your arms around his waist, stopping him in his tracks. He’s warm against your exposed skin and you swear you could fall asleep standing up right then and there.

“Jon…” You whisper, lips close to his ear, warm breath tickling the tip of his ear.

“I am in the middle of a thought, dearest, I will join you in a moment,” A calloused hand pats your own.

“Your moments always last hours, my love,” Your lips press against the spot behind his ear and your kisses make your way down the side of his neck. Jon shivers in reply, breath hitching. “You need rest, Jon, come to bed…”

“You’re distracting,” Jon murmurs as he turns around in your arms, hands coming up to lightly hold your jaw. His fingers are cold. Goosebumps rise all across your body as a chill jolts at the base of your spine.

“I’m persuasive,”

Jon chuckles, smirking. His dark eyes run over your lips and down your neck, taking in the sight of your form beneath layers of furs.

“Alas, dearest, I must—“

“Rest. You must rest, Jon,” Your own hands move up to hold his wrists, keeping his hands from moving away from your features. “The battle will still be there in the morning for you to plan. You are too tired to get anywhere with it tonight,”

Jon’s dark eyes, truly like the void of a moonless night, soften at your soft plea. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he relents.

“Fine. But do not be offended when I am gone before dawn,” Though he smiles as he disrobes and lets you lead him to the pile of furs spread across the mattress.

Even Jon shivers slightly in the time it takes him to step across the room and lie under the covers. His body radiates warmth and as a result you move closer to him.

“Let’s not talk about the morning, my love,” You press kisses up his neck, lips finally hovering above his own. “Just be distracted until then,” Jon meets you halfway, the two of you melting into each other before succumbing to the darkness of the night and the warmth of each other.

•

#game of thrones #got #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #Jon snow #jon snow x reader #Jon snow fluff #Jon snow blurb

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two-white-butterflies · 11 months

Text

nothing but our chains | d. targaryen and harwin strong

Description: Your father arranges a marriage with Ser Harwin Strong. Your uncle does not like that. Harwin thinks of Rhaenyra while fucking you. Rating: Mature 18+ [angst, dub-con] Author's Note: (AU) If you love this fic, feel free to visit the main fic. coaxed you into paradise v2.

Daemon Targaryen fucking burned for you.

His mind couldn't be freed of the carnal desire that he felt. He fought a war in the Stepstones to be with you. He knew that it was wrong - because then, you'd be alone in the schemes of your father's court.

He knew that it would be his undoing.

He couldn't stop staring at you from across the room, dancing with your husband - a smile was gracing your face. "She is happy," his oldest niece sits beside him, a goblet of wine was on her hands. His jaw clenches at the sight of Rhaenyra - a faint reminder that his baby niece was the first to be wed of the two.

"I don't think she is," he replied in a curt demeanor, downing his ale with ease. He's kept his eye on you - Mysaria was a dutiful spy.

But he didn't anticipate you being stolen from his arms.

His baby girl.

His niece.

"She is smiling and dancing, a combination that is uncommon for my sister." Rhaenyra pointed out - adding more fuel into Daemon's anger.

He wanted to kill his brother.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" he turned to look her, seeing a smug smile on her face. They were closer before Saera was born - he'd bounce her on his lap and whisper stories of Old Valyria, but everything seemed to change since his darling girl was born.

"Of course not," she rolled her eyes, returning to the wine on her hand. "I do not need to antagonize you, kepus." she added, seeing that he was already standing up and marching towards you.

He marched inside your chambers with renewed passion.

"You came too late," you breathe - combing your hair and staring at yourself through the mirror. A bitter smile paints his lips.

"What have they done?" he grits his teeth - anger fueling his desires.

You belonged to him and he belonged to you.

"I tried to stop them - I promise," you exasperate, feeling the air run out of your lungs. He takes another step, leaning over your body and resting his head on your shoulder.

The smell of lavender floods his lungs.

"I know you did," he inhaled.

"I did all I could," you add, and he slowly carries you to the bed. Settling you upon the soft mattress that you'd share with Harwin in a few hours. "I know," he whispers again - reaching to cup your cheeks.

He leans in for a kiss.

Now he's covered in you.

"I had plans for us - I wanted you to enjoy your first time," he confesses - lifting your skirts and exposing your womanhood. It was as beautiful as he imagined, soft and supple - delicious.

"Harwin cannot pleasure you - only I am capable of that," he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, smirking as a shiver ran down your back.

"Enjoy me, kepus." you breathed - staring down at him.

He dives down, licking and slurping. His tongue circles your pearl - spelling his name while he pleasures you.

You were about to close your eyes due to the pleasure, but he taps your thighs impatiently. "Look at me little girl. Look at your kepus while he eats you." he commanded - and you force your eyes open.

"I love you, never forget that."

He promised but there was a million different things he wanted to say. It went somewhere along the lines of;

'I hope that everything is good in the end. I hope that I become the man who knows his limits, a man who can freely have you around his arms because he knows that he's already done his duties for the kingdom, and all that's left is loving you.

I'm not that man right now, but I will be - and I will marry you. I will wrap you in the robes of our family, and marry you in the ways of Valyria. I will give you children - who have your apple cheeks and light purple eyes - so even after our deaths, our grandchildren will understand why I chose to love you.'

Harwin halts in front of his shared chamber with you. It was time for the bedding ceremony, and he was more than prepared. He took extra time in taking a bath in order to impress his princess bride.

Daemon exits the room, his hair all over the place.

"My prince," he breaths, and the man seemed unfazed. "Harwin," Daemon replied in a strict tone, "Is Saera ready?" he raised his eyebrows, and the man walks away.

Ignoring him.

He reaches for the door knob, twisting it to reveal you; sitting on the bed and combing your hair. "Harwin," you smiled at him - although the joy never reached your eyes. He takes another step forward - you weren't the bride that he intended to have, but you were going to do.

"Princess," he replies, moving towards you on the bed.

A Valyrian goddess sent from the ruins of Valyria.

You gently move towards the center of the bed - leaving enough space on the bottom. You were praying to the gods that he wouldn't notice the small stain on the sheets or that your cunt was soaking wet. His hands reach for your face, pulling you close for a short kiss.

There was no passion in what you were doing. It was repulsive to you. There was no honor in what you were doing.

He places a hand on your chest - pulling you down into the bed.

Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra.

His mind uttered, thinking of someone else.

The marriage was doomed from the beginning.

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fandom-puff · 4 months

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cersei with 40 from the smut prompt list 🙏🙏🙏

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

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

Prompt highlighted in bold

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

And the sounds you made were delicious.

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

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

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

#Cersei Lannister #Cersei Lannister smut #Cersei Lannister x reader #Cersei Lannister x you #Cersei Lannister blurb #Cersei Lannister imagine #game of thrones smut #asoiaf smut #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones blurb #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fic

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dragonsbone · 1 year

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━━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠

“I will write,” Jon whispered. “I promise.” His voice so soft, so quiet, he worried it might've been carried away in the northern wind, along with the boy’s dream of a future with the woman he loved.

It was foolish. He understood better than anyone the many paths of a bastard’s life. None of which consisted of marriage between a noble man’s daughter and a lord’s bastard. Though, the harsh truth didn’t cease twisting of the sharp blade in his heart.

If only I bore the name Stark, he thought countless times, more in her presence. When she held his cold, calloused hands in hers, which were just as rough and rugged as his own. When she brushed her lips against his for the first time and he could taste the fruity wine lingered on her tongue. When she was ridden of her furs and velvet gowns to reveal her bare skin, willing to forsake her maidenhood to him without a sliver of doubt in her mind. If he were a trueborn son of Eddard Stark, he would’ve held her hand longer, kissed her deeper, and lied with her that very night.

But he’s no trueborn son nor a Stark. He’s a bastard of the north, burdened with the surname Snow. And now he was on his way to the Wall, soon to be sealed in his fate as a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch. Soon enough, Alynne would fulfill her own duties, marry a highborn man to compete with the wild stag in her, carry on their dynasty, become the lady she was meant to be, and his name would be a distant memory of her youth.

“Be mindful of your promise, Jon Snow,” Aly said, pulling him away from his thoughts. “If you break it, I will ride to Castle Black myself. Not even the lord commander would be able to withstand a lovestruck girl waiting for word from her lover.” She spoke the words with a grin upon her lips, but Jon knew better than to forego the truthfulness of her warning. A Baratheon’s wrath was not one to tempt.

Perhaps, they’d meet again when they’re fully grown and aren’t blinded by their affection. Until then, he would keep his word and write to her until his watch has ended.

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#fyeahgameofthronesocs #fyeahgotocs #ocappreciation #asoiaf oc #ochub #allaboutocs #alynne baratheon #jon snow x oc #game of thrones oc #GoT oc #otp: i'll crawl home to her #my ocs #idk where this blurb came from or why its in his pov.... but hey.... i wrote something #but anyways... surprise !!!!! this is the new oc from the poll i posted #hope y'all like hella slow burn and angst... as per usual

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 year

Text

Someone wanted to suffer some more so OMG I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS! THIS IS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE BLURB, DO NOT PANIC!!!

A sequel to the stranger.

rites (’terms of endearment’ au)

Daemon says goodbye.

Triggers: death in childbirth, angst.

The pyre is prepared.

He is tired. When was the last time he had slept? He cannot recall. Most evenings, he sits and watches his son in the cradle, the last vestige of you that remains to him now. He counts every breath, every shift, watches every sign of life, jealously guarding his treasure from a world treacherous enough to steal mothers from babes fresh out of the womb. It’s unhealthy, he knows, but he cannot help it. Little Vaelor is all he has left.

They are waiting for him; Rhaenyra and Laenor, Daeron and Helaena, the Hightower lot. His brother. He cannot bring himself to speak the word. Athfiezar stands upon the rock, mute and subdued, a far cry from the mighty beast he is known to be. He can commiserate, for the dragon is not the only being unmanned by…

By. He cannot say it. If he does not say it, it isn’t real.

There are moments where he feels he is going mad, that his mind is breaking like a wave upon the shore. He sees you in the corner of his eye, flitting behind a pillar, following him in shadows and silence. He feels your breath upon his skin, smells the rose oil in the air, tastes the honey-wine flavour of your lips. You haunt him, and he wants desperately to hope that it is you beyond the veil, keeping him company in the lonely hours of the night, his sweet, devoted girl. He cannot decide if it is better or worse to be plagued by the memory of you, whether these reminders are a salve upon the wound or if it would be better to let you go. For now, he clutches these flashes of you close, these illusions and phantoms that keep the thought of you alive where you now lay still.

His brother had had to tear him bodily from the bed that night. He doesn’t recall it well, but he knows he had held you to him for a time, had felt the warmth fading with each wet pulse of blood upon the sheets. He had laid there with your head tucked beneath his chin and your body in his arms, and you could have been asleep if not for the chill that had crept into you. He’d had the thought that perhaps the fire in his veins could revive you, that perhaps he could press his life force through your flesh and restart the beating of your heart. He had laid there while your family had wept, while the Maesters and midwives had tidied the room, while faces had wandered to and from the room, his pretty bride with your son nestled between you.

Viserys had coaxed him to part from you, so gentle it was as though he was a boy of four once more, being soothed after the loss of his mother. Like the child he had been, he’d folded into his brother’s embrace easily, entrusting himself to the man that had given you life. Had given you life, and he had taken it away. How ironic. He has always destroyed everything he touches.

He cannot sleep, cannot eat, cannot think. He is a wraith, a soulless creature that exists for one thing only. Each day is a trial by combat, steel to the heart that he wishes would lance him open and leave him to bleed so that he may join you. You would need him, even in the beyond; but your child needs him, too. He will make you proud.

The pyre is prepared. You are shrouded from view upon the surface, and he wonders if that makes it easier or harder. No one speaks, and there is no sound save for the breeze upon the grass and Vaelor’s squalling in his brother’s arm. The boy must be here to say goodbye to you.

He looks up at Athfiezar, your first true friend and confidant. The dragon had tormented the city with his screams for days, only falling silent when he’d brought your son to him. It is amusing to him that the creature who had barely tolerated him then is receptive to him now, though it is perhaps more likely that the scent of you upon the boy is what had quieted him. His eyes burn. It is fitting that the beast would be the one to convey you to your end. He clears his throat, reviving the voice he has used little of since you left. Since you died.

Goodbye, my love.

“Dracarys.”

Don’t worry, this WILL NOT HAPPEN in the main series - but I am happy to add these little blurbs to the Alternate Universe train! Thanks for reading!

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tinfairies · 2 years

Note

please do anything involving Aegon, I have a thing for whores I would probably hate in real life.

maybe one where he's madly in love with a mysterious woman, and who just doesn't give a damn about him, who appears when he wants and leaves, she sleeps with him, but then disappears, and he craves her like he never craved another, he still hasn't married Haelena, he's grumpy the way he is, but never raising his voice with the woman, maybe she's a prostitute or something, and he wants to marry her too.

Aegon Targaryen x Fem!Sorceress!Reader

"That woman, that damned woman." Aegon thought, his bed sheets ruffled and haphazard from the night before. He never expects her to be there when he wakes, but he always has that sliver of hope. What would he expect from a supposed sorceress he had met at a brothel. She may have magic yet, as she seems to have tamed him of all people. Aegon rises and gets ready for the day, he has hopes he'll find the woman later; If only just to see her beauty, a rare thought from the Whore Prince.

Aegon slips out of the castle soon after lunch, much to his mother's displeasure. She hates when he leaves the castle unattended, for his safety and the women of King's Landing. He ignores her nagging slips past the Kingsguard. Making his way to poor streets of Flea Bottom, the inhabitants there tripping over themselves to get out of his way. He bites his tongue; He doesn't want this power, he is a human just like these people. Aegon wishes people didn't fear him for his position. Soon he stands in front of a dilapidated building, an apothecary sign hanging by a rusty nail on the door. He takes a deep breath in and opens the door, inside the smell of herbs, oils, tinctures, and blood wafted through the air. The shop was warm, lit by a large fire in the middle of the room, shelves lined with jars, bottles and books covered the walls. The room was vacant, he looked around but saw no one. Aegon began walking around the room, looking at each of the jars and books, he finally came to a table in the corner. Red and black candles created a semi circle around the table, crystals and bones littered the spaces between them. Finally his eyes came to land on an ancient looking book in the middle of it all, the page it was opened to was in a language he couldn't even begin to understand. The pages were threadbare and stained; "Hopefully with potions and not with blood" Aegon thought to himself. Beneath the books page holder was something white poking out, he had reached for it and picked up a tiny dragon skull. It looked just like Balerion's, his father's deceased dragon in the lower levels of the castle. "Could it be a baby dragon skull? Where'd she even get a dragon egg, and why kill it?" Aegon's head was racing with questions, when suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulder. He jumped out of his skin almost dropping the skull, he whipped around to find the sorceress in all her beauty.

"You shouldn't be here." she said sharply as she grabbed the skull from his hand.

"You weren't there when I awoke."

"I never am." she quipped

Aegon frowned, he wished he could find some way to get her to love him.

"Why do you share my bed so often if you're hesitant to stay?" he questioned, furrowing his brows.

"The dozens of girls you've brought into your bed could ask the same of you." the sorceress pushed past him and put the dragon skull back in its place. She was right, many of the women he had bedded multiple times have always been abandoned the next morning.

"Why do you have that?" Aegon changed the subject, covering up the aching pain in his heart at her words.

"It was a gift." she didn't look at him as she turned away to walk down a row of bookcases. Aegon quickly followed.

"From who? Only Targaryen's and Valaryon's have dragons, you're a peasant why would they give a baby dragon?"

The sorceress stopped in her tracks. "I'm a peasant am I?" Aegon immediately regretted his words. "No, I didn't mean it like that, I just-" he stumbled over his words.

"Oh no I understand, I'm just a peasant woman you keep around to wet your cock. I get it." the sorceress began walking again.

"Please I really didn't mean it like that, I do enjoy your company. It's not just about sex." Aegon pleaded, he truly did enjoy their conversations before and after the bedding. The woman was fascinating to him, he could dare say he was in love with her.

The sorceress smirked, "The skull was gifted to me many moons ago when I was in Asshai. I do not know if the man was of Targaryen or Valaryon blood. I do know that I saved his wife's life in childbirth, and he gave me the most valuable thing he had." still refusing to look at Aegon she began organizing the books on the shelf.

"You've been to Asshai?" Aegon was shocked, a woman living in Flea Bottom has typically never been out of the city let alone another continent.

"I was born there." the sorceress finally turned to look at the prince. His face plastered in shock, "Then why live here, a sorceress from Asshai can live anywhere she pleases, place herself in any court she wished."

"Magic, my dear prince, is greatly feared in Westeros. It is safer to practice here in the least monitored part of the city." the sorceress went back to looking at books.

"Come live in the castle, with me. You truly won't be monitored there, not if you're my wife." Aegon's words poured from his mouth without thought.

"Are you asking for my hand?" to say the sorceress was shocked was an understatement. She knew he was falling for her, but not like this, not this fast.

" I suppose I am. We have many private rooms in the castle where you can practice, I'm sure I can convince my mother it'll be a good way to overthrow my sister." Aegon took the sorceress' hands in his. She looked into his eyes, they pleaded with her. The prince was desperate and she knew it. She enjoyed it, having a man so powerful at her bend and will.

"We shall see."

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