#game of thrones fic
Text
Sugar & Violence
Podrick Payne x reader
+:✿ Chapter 2 ✿:+ : Beautiful Girl
previous chapter
Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister. You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his.
CW: afab reader, SMUT, MDNI, Fingering, P in V sex, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.
Word Count: 5125
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
As you’d just finished getting Margery ready for the day she sat you down and began to ready you as well. It wasn’t custom for a Lady to dress and pretty her Hand Maiden but Margery had taken the responsibility voluntarily and happily.
“Podrick was seen where?” You asked wide eyes, holding in a laugh.
“Little Finger’s brothel,” Margery replied with a smirk as she brushed your hair.
You shook your head with a smile “I will not believe such rumors.”
“I hear the whores did not receive a payment.” Her fingers twisting the front sections of your hair and braiding them together at the back of your head.
“You’re suggesting he didn’t pay them?” You asked with disbelief. He didn’t seem like the type of man to pay for a whore, much less the type of man to steal their time and effort.
“I am suggesting they did not want a payment. I hear that he was so skilled, they wouldn’t accept his payment.” She said as she finished your hair and she sat in front of you, beginning to do your makeup.
“Now that I can’t believe it.” You said holding back laughter,
“You never know for sure with men like him. Quiet, and sweet, they can be sensitive to a woman's needs.” She said putting
“I’ve been pinned against enough trees on Bear Island by enough men to know, no tongue, fingers, cock, or even nose is good enough to turn down gold.”
“Perhaps you’re right. But perhaps you’re wrong, there is only one way to find out.”
“Oh please, he can hardly hold his gaze to mine.”
“Some would say that means he likes you, besides the poor boy gave you a flower. One of the sweetest, and pathetic things I have ever seen.” She jested.
“He doesn’t want me, not like that.” You always found it hard to believe that any man would be interested in you beyond bedding.
she rolled her eyes as she finished applying a rouge to your lips. She fixed your hair slightly and half a small compact mirror to your face.
“if i were a man i would ravish you.” she smiled as you looked at yourself in the mirror.
Margery had done your makeup and hair countless times. Every morning after you’d done hers, but each time always made sure to tell you how beautiful you were. even if you didn’t believe it.
“a man would ravish a horse if desperate enough.” you pushed the compact away, you got up and began to select the gowns you’d both wear to the celebratory feast tonight.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
That evening was a celebration of the victory of Tywin Lannister. Nothing for you to feel celebratory for, but it gave you an opportunity to dance and drink.
Most of the night you and Margrey had danced with one another, made quite jokes about the other men there. But once the celebration began to wind down Margrey had found an excuse to speak to Joffrey, part of her plan to seduce him. So naturally you made yourself scarce. Finding a corner of the room to stand in while you drank.
It would have been perfect to end your night in peace if a tall man didn’t approach you.
He could have been some noble man or a knight, kings guard, even city watch, you didn’t know and more importantly did not care.
“My, who might you be, my Lady.” He asked, his voice was low and attempting to sound seductive.
“(Y/N) Mormont.” You said as you drank from your cup, your eyes wandered the room, paying little attention to the attractive man in front of you. As your eyes searched the large room, they landed on a pair of eyes already looking at you, Podrick’s. He looked at you with the eyes of a sad dog.
It caught you so off guard you didn’t hear whatever the man had just said, only the mumbling of words. You tore your eyes from his and looked at the man, “What?” burrowed furrowed in frustration.
“I said, then you are not much of a Lady.” He said with a twisted grin
“Is that so?” You said emotionlessly, unwilling to show any kind of offense that might have been taken. Fearing it would give him too much power. Besides, you did not care about the opinions of southerners.
“Hand Maidens are not Ladies of any land, are they not?”
“Perhaps.” You said your eyes returned to scanning the room, trying to find Podrick again, but having no luck.
“I could make you feel like one for tonight.” He held out his hand to you,
You held your cup to your lips as you spoke, “I’ve no wish to dance with you, Ser”.
“I cannot dance with a handmaiden,” The man smirked, his hand snaking around your waist. “I can enjoy one though.” He whispered in your ear.
You smirked back, and then you leaned in, making him think you were about to kiss him when you kicked him in the shin. “Oh!” You fained shock as he grunted in pain “My apologies Ser, I have always been quite clumsy.” Your concerned and shock demeanor dropped as you began to walk away. He began to spit some curse your way when you stomped on his foot. “If you’ll excuse me, my Lord.”
As you walked forward a few steps before the man grabbed ahold of your wrist.
“You northern who-” He was interrupted by Podrick’s voice.
“My Lady, the Queen wishes to have a word with you.” He spoke louder than usual. His eyes were wide and looked almost angry.
You ripped your hand away from the man's grasp and walked with Podrick out of the room.
“What does she want?” You asked, rubbing your wrist.
“Nothing, I made that up.” He said avoiding your gaze as you both walked down the hall.
“You made that up?” You looked at him with wide eyes, he nodded still avoiding your gaze. “Well, thank you.” You said softly.
He’d walked you all the way to your chambers with no other words were exchanged between the two of you, other than the occasional glance at one another. You had reached your chambers door, you looked over at him as you began to open the door.
He was ready to nod and walk away when you said, “Podrick,” To which his eyes went directly to yours. You didn’t say another word, just walked into your chambers leaving the door open.
He hesitated for a moment, but walked in after you.
He stood there, showing just how intimidated he was.
As you kicked your shoes off, and removed the necklace Margery allowed you to barrow for the night, you looked over your shoulder to him “Close the door.” You said softly, and so he did.
As you turned to him and began to walk towards him, his eyes subconsciously went from your eyes to your cleavage. Now more exposed now that you’d removed your necklace. He couldn’t help it really. Your corset and gown were truly putting them on display, and the candle light from your room made your skin glow beautifully. You smirked when you noticed, making him swallow hard and return his gaze to your eyes. He was going to apologize but you reached for his hand making him choke back any words he had.
You held his hand, looking at his now healed cut, now formed scar across the palm of his hand.
You trailed the scar with your finger tip.
“You’re seducing me-” He finally found some courage to spit out some words.
“You feel seduced?” You still held his hand, still admiring your work on his hand.
“Yes- I mean, it is intentional isn’t it?” He stammered, somehow a little out of breath.
“Do you want it to be?” You looked at him with a grin and mischievous grin.
“I don’t want to offend you-” He said softly, looking away.
“So you don’t?” You let go of his hand,
“No- no,” His eyes went wide as he stammered, “I want you to, want to seduce me.” He winced at his own words, not knowing how to phrase it.
“Why would that offend me?” You smiled softly, holding back a giggle.
“I am just a squire, my Lady.” He shook his head looking down
“And here in King's Landing, I am just a handmaiden they send to patch up knights and Lords.” You said softly
“You are Lady Mormont.” He said, it made you smile. No one had given such respect to your name in so long.
“You’re sweet.” You brushed his short hair around his ear with your fingertips “Have you ever seduced a woman?” You asked sweetly, you knew the rumors of the whore house, but didn’t know if you could believe it.
“No, no, not really.” He said like we were being honest… maybe he was.
“Show me how you would.” You said looking up at him with sleepy eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“How do you think I was seducing you?”
“You, made me… feel-” he stammered.
“Mhmm, so try to make me feel…”
He stepped closer to you, meekly, his head lowered. He reached out and lightly ran his hand over your hair. Taking a strand of it and looking at it, admiring the color of it, and its texture. He looked into your eyes, his head still lowered.
“You are beautiful.” His hand then went from your hair, to trailing his hand gently down your arm and grabbing your hand softly. He played with your fingers, again, gently.
“I believe you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” He didn’t stammer, his voice was earnest, and gentle.
“This is wooing, not seducing.” You smiled and corrected him as if he were acting, genuinely thinking he were making it up.
“I’m not trying to do either, my Lady.” Your smile dropped, “I just wish to be near you.”
“You shouldn’t.” You said pulling your hand away. “How we first met, tell me that.”
“Lord Slynt ordered you to pour him wine-”
“And I spit in it.”
“He deserved it.”
“I lied to him, and your lord.”
“Not to me.”
Your hardened gaze softened “No, no not to you” You lowered your head avoiding his eyes. afraid you’d melt in his sweetness. found yourself feeling that warm feeling in your chest again. You reached for his fingers with your own. interlocking your index finger with his.
“You are- different.” He stammered a bit “Special.” He corrected, thinking it sounded more flattering.
“You really are sweet. I don’t believe I've met a man so sweet as you.” He smiled, and in turn you smiled back, “You are shy, more so normally than you are now.”
He let out a small chuckle “I still feel shy.” He said as he looked down smiling
“Are you too shy for me to kiss you?”
Instead of responding to you he cupped your face in his hands. So gently it was as if you were made of the finest porcelain in the realm. He leaned in and kissed your lips. Soft and again, gentle. but also passionate and almost lustful. You were surprised how well he kissed. No, he didn’t kiss well, his kiss was intoxicating somehow. Maybe it was the wine on his lips or just skill. you couldn’t help but let out the smallest whimper into his mouth. It made him pull away and go wide eyed.
“You’re quite good at that.” You said wide eyes, catching your breath a bit.
“I apologize-“ He said, still holding your head in his hands.
“For what?”
“I should have asked you first,”
“Too late for that now,” you said, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. Your lips fell into a perfect rhythm as his hands moved to your ribs, careful not to touch your breasts. his thumbs moved against your ribs slowly and gently.
You’d never felt this way with a man before. Normally it was sweaty, sloppy, and you ended it burnt out and covered in spit. This was like a dance, like you and he had kissed in every life.
You felt terrified. An emotion you rarely ever felt.
What if he was like every other man. They whisper sweet things in your ears, promises, and compliments. Then once they lifted your skirts and humped into you a few times they’d leave. You felt hurt the first time, maybe the second time too. But after that it was expected. So you never let yourself become invested in a man again. You used them as they used you.
But this was different, this wasn’t only lust, there was something more. But was this feeling only yours, or did you share it? You needed to test him, only you didn’t know quite how.
“Stop” You whispered in his mouth as you kissed, it made him stop immediately, and he stepped away from you, breathless.
“I- I’m sorry” He said about to go for the door before you stopped him grabbing his arm.
“No,”
“But you said-”
“I can’t bed you like this.” You said running your hands on the tight fabric of your gown.
“Bed me?” He asked as if he had choked, it made you smile.
“Will you wait here for me?” You asked, petting his cheek, and he nodded slightly confused.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
You had gone into the bathing room that was attached between your room and Margery’s. You bathed quickly, washed your hair, washed your face of its makeup, and slipped into your night dress. The only thing you wore to cover your nakedness.
As you opened the door you saw Podrick lighting the fireplace in your room. He stood as he heard you open the door and looked in your direction as he said, “I thought you might be cold-” He was cut off by the sight of you. His eyes were enamored by the sight of you.
You hadn’t shown him this side of you. Totally free of glamor and shine. “Thank you,” You said as you walked towards him.
As you stood in front of him he still couldn’t let out any words. “Do you… not like it?”
He shook his head quickly, “This is the most I have ever seen of you.” he placed a hand on your cheek. “You are truly the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”
You searched his eyes for a hint of deceit and found none. You took the hand he placed on your cheek and sat down on the fur carpet that laid in front of the fireplace, pulling him down with you. You looked at the scar on his hand again, this time placing a kiss on the scar.
“Thank you for what you did tonight.” He looked slightly confused, “The lie you told.” You explained.
“I didn’t want to interrupt, but then I saw how he grabbed you.” He looked down, now beginning to simmer, “No one should grab you like that.” He said in a lower tone. “If I’d a sword, I wouldn’t have to tell a lie.” He became angered thinking of it.
You moved closer to him, beginning to undo the clasps on the front of his top. He looked intimidated again suddenly, “A sword hm?” He nodded, “What would you have told him?”
“To unhand you, or I’d remove his hand.” He said, with a darker tone of voice, it made you smile as you pulled his red leather top off, leaving him in his tunic.
“One day you’re going to be the only honorable knight in all of Westeros.” You saw heat rush to his cheeks when you said those words. “A big strong shining warrior.” You said crawling closer to him.
“You’re seducing me again.” He said staring at your lips, his eyes drifted downwards again to your cleavage again now further exposed by the thin fabric and the angle you were in from crawling to him.
“Do you want me to stop?” You asked in a whisper,
He shook his head “No,” He said, grasping your face in his hands kissing you so deeply you let out a small moan into his lips, only making him kiss you deeper.
His hands roamed your sides, as yours gripped the back of his neck and roamed his chest down to his stomach.
When your hand reached his stomach you felt his muscles twitch and he let out a small groan. The sound of his groan made you clench your thighs together.
Mixed with the sounds of your breathless whimpers he felt himself stiffening, “Can I touch you?” He whispered in your ear, you nodded and he whispered back “Thank you,” As his hands cupped your breasts. He let out a moan into your mouth as he groped you, feeling the plumpness of your breasts. You couldn’t take it anymore and began to lift your night dress. You stopped yourself however, not wanting to push him,
“Is this okay?” You asked, and he nodded frantically. To which you smiled and lifted the rest of it off. His hands gripped your breasts tighter, and his mouth moved from yours to your neck and shoulder.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispered against your hot skin, repeating it over and over again.
One of your hands petted his hair, while the other went over his stomach to his now tenting trousers. You heard him moan into your neck and his hands gripped you tighter, making you moan in return.
“You sound beautiful too,” He whispered
“Take this off” You said much less elegantly as you pulled at the fabric of his shirt. As he did you laid down on the fur carpet under you. Looking up at him as he removed his tunic. You smiled up at him, “You’re quite pretty too.”
He shook his head in awe of you, “Not like you… You could be a painting,” He said, dropping to his knees. He leaned down and kissed your lips. Both your lips at this point were slightly swollen, but that didn’t stop either of you from continuing. Kissing with a new kind of passion.
You felt, for a moment, this might be much more. And if it was, you didn’t want to hide from him at all. You pulled away from his lips as you blurted out,
“I’ve been with men before you.” breathlessly, “I feel I should be honest with you.” You felt even more naked revealing that, you felt heat spread across your face.
“That’s alright.” He nodded, trying to reassure you. “And I- I have- I’ve been with women before you.”
Your eyes went wide, you thought back to the rumors you’d heard. “You have?” You shook your head to yourself trying to shake those thoughts out of your head. “That’s alright.” You said looking back at him, you smiled softly “It is, it’s alright.” You felt a hint of excitement, pulling him back into your body and to your lips.
You two kissed for a moment until his mouth ran down to your neck, covering your body in as many kisses as he could, making you giggle. Giggle until you feel his thumb run down the slit of your folds. Which made you gasp slightly and then smile at him, and he smiled back.
He leaned down and began to kiss and suck on your breasts.
You felt yourself becoming a wet and sticky mess and his thumb continued to roll up and down the slit of your folds, masterfully avoiding your clit, teasing you.
Finally his index and middle finger parted you, while his thumb gently teased your clit.
“Mmmmmm” you let out as you closed your eyes.
“Do you like that?” he asked softly into your breasts, all you could do was nod as he applied more pressure.
his teeth grazed your nipple with expertise. As though he knew just the right amount to use, how much you liked.
He continued to kiss, suck on, and sometimes lightly bite your breasts. You felt yourself clenching around nothing as he moaned soft praises into your skin. while he kept circling your clit.
It was beginning to be too much and not enough. “More,” you whined, “Your fingers.” you said.
He nodded, “Show me, show me what you like.”
you reached your hand below, rubbing your clit only a little, then you pushed a finger in. He watched as your eyes closed from the pleasure
He inserted his finger alongside yours, feeling how you moved your own finger inside you.
The extra digit in you stretched you so nicely, you let out a small sigh as you smiled at him and he smiled back at you.
You inserted a second finger, and he followed suit. The stretch burned slightly, it had been a while since you had been with a man, and now already you’d four fingers inside you. Albeit two were smaller than the other two but still. You whined a little as you winced slightly. It made him lean down and kiss your lips.
“You’re wonderful” he said as he kissed your jaw and your neck, pumping his fingers in you with your own guiding him. You then removed your fingers, content to let him take control.
His fingers knew when to curl and when to relax, when to push against the soft spot in you, and knew just the right speed. No man had ever known how to draw out such pleasure from simply his fingers with you.
“Podrick-“ you gasped at certain curl of his fingers,
“My lady?” he said into your lips,
“Call me my name,” you said into his,
“(Y/N)…(Y/N)..(Y/N)…(Y/N)..” he repeated softly as he kissed your cheek, then your other cheek, then your forehead, then your eyelids, nose, and finally your lips.
You took his face into your hands, as gently as he took yours in his. You kissed him sweetly, as you pulled away you whispered “I want to make you feel good,”
He smiled and let out a small chuckle “I feel very good,”
You shook your head and rubbed your palm onto his tenting trousers, making him close his eyes tightly, “I want you to feel even better.”
Your touching continued until he was grunting and bucking into your hand, “I- I have to take these off.” He said with a bit of shame as he fumbled with the strings of his trousers. You gladly helped him with a smile on your flushed face.
As he was freed from his pants, you took him in your hand, looking at his cock. It was bigger than you had expected, and by far the prettiest one you’d seen. Most were crooked, too thin, or too wide but his was perfect.
“Pretty thing you’ve got there,” You said with a smile as you pulled him into another kiss.
As you did you pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, slinging your leg over his body.
He looked flustered with your boldness but pleased. “Thank you,” he responded.
“You’re welcome,” You said as you lined his cock, slick with precum against your entrance. His hands gripped your hips as you lowered yourself, pushing him inside of you.
You let out the prettiest of moans from your lips as did he.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you grinded him into you, in and out. The way his cock twitched inside of you hit the soft spot in you so deliciously each time, making you moan even louder.
You looked down at him, you ran your hand against his cheek as he looked back at you with a soft smile while moans left his lips.
The look in his eyes as he watched you squirm and whimper was a look you were not accustomed to.
All of the sudden, he pulled you down and rolled you onto your back. You were face to face, his arms wrapped around your body and yours around his. Your legs around his waist as he bucked into you, again and again. The way he did it, was as if he had done it a thousand times before.
He moved his hands to hold your face, and his other to hold your hand.
His thumb rubbed against your cheek, sweetly. Just before it left your cheek and trailed down your body to your cunt. Rubbing your clit in circles.
He could feel you clenching around him, his speed picked up and his mouth returned to your nipples. But his hand never left yours.
“I’m cuming, Podrick, I- mmhmm” You whined, only making him speed up even more.
You felt your legs shake, your toes curl, and the pressure in your stomach snap and the warmth in your core spread around his cock. You let out the prettiest of moans as you came. You gripped his hand tightly. And he peppered your chest and your neck in kisses. “I want you to cum,” You whispered as he continued to fuck into you.
“So warm… so wet.” He whimpered against your neck, “Gods, I need you.”
His thrusts in you became more and more erratic, you anticipated his cum filling you, you anticipated the heat that would fill you. You wanted it, badly. You smiled as you saw his face contort knowing it was coming, but he pulled out and came on the ground next to you.
You whined a little, “I wanted it,” You said in a whisper.
“You?-” He looked confused “You wanted it?”
You nodded, pouting a little.
“Why?” He asked, not being able to understand it, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to- to sully your body.” He said, sweet sentiment.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈꒱꒱
After he cleaned it up, you had gotten in bed.
He dressed himself back in his tunic and walked over to you where you pulled him into your bed.
He held you against his body, and you held him back. He just stared into your eyes, as he pet your cheek. He admired the way you looked against the light of the fire. His eyes trailed down your body and he saw the bruises he left from his kisses on your breasts. His thumb grazed over them as he said “I’m sorry, I-’
“You did nothing wrong,” You said as you gripped his face and pulled him down to kiss his lips. “Do you think your Lord misses you?” You asked jokingly.
“I think he is too drunk to notice.” He said smiling at you, “What about your Lady?”
“I think she was too involved in Joffrey to notice.” You said with a giggle.
“Sleep with me tonight?” You asked softly,
He nodded and he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your neck.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
When you woke up, you were alone.
You felt a little betrayed but you knew he had duties.
Later that day you were ordered to check on Lord Tyrion’s injuries as the Maester was too busy to see to it himself.
When you knocked on the door to Tyrion's chambers Bronn answered the door, he eyed you up and down, making you roll your eyes.
“My Lord,” You said walking into Tyrion’s chambers, brushing past Bronn and avoiding his gaze.
“Ah, the bear girl.” Tyrion said,
“(Y/N) Mormont, my Lord.” Podrick attempted to correct him, which made Bronn huff and roll his eyes. But you smiled at him, and he smiled back.
“Yes, Podrick, I know her name. My family is holding her captive after all.”
You smirked at his admission, ‘How’re you feeling?” You asked as you sat a leather bag of medicines and supplies on a table.
“Oh quite pleasurable.” Tyrion said sarcastically,
You turned towards him, dropping your concerned demeanor “I need to know if it stings or itches, if it’s infected, it could spread to your eyes, you’ll go blind, it could spread to your sinuses which could make you go deaf, and if it spreads to your brain you’ll die."
“You’re a gentle flower aren’t you?”
“Always have been. The Flower of Bear Island they called me.” You said sarcastically with crossed arms, making Tyrion huff a chuckle, “Yes and now they call me bear girl and whore, so if you could be so kind and cooperate I can see to it that you don’t die.”
Podrick held back a smile at your strength.
“Alright, no burning, itching, or stinging. Satisfied?” Tyrion said as you sat beside him.
“Somewhat…” You said while examining the cut.
Podricks eyes were entranced by the way your eyes darted around the Lord's scar, how you examined it with such expertise. How your eyebrows narrowed and your lips pouted slightly when you focused intensely on something. How when you wrapped a new bandage around the Lord's face you bit on your bottom lip. As he stared at your lips he thought of your first kiss, how warm and soft your lips were, he thought of your sweet taste. He wanted to grab your face and do it all over again. He was so deep into his fantasy he hadn’t even noticed Tyrion had called his name twice.
Bronn smacked Podricks head, making him snap out of it as Tyrion repeated himself again.
“Pod, see Lady Mormont to her chambers.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Podrick nodded
“Oh I'm sure the lad would love that.” Bronn said as you and Podrick left the room.
Once the door to Tyrion's chamber was closed you turned to Podrick with narrowed eyes.
“You told them?” You asked with venom.
“No, no, no I wouldn’t.” He stammered, not wanting you to believe he would do such a thing to you, “I wouldn’t. I believe I am just not very good at concealing my… interest in you.” He said softly so no one would hear.
It made you smile.
“I am sorry I couldn’t stay, My Lady. This morning, I couldn’t stay, Lord Tyrion would have sent someone for me.” He said softly again.
“I told you, you can call me by my name.” You said not willing to say it was alright but not willing to say it wasn’t. “Did you forget it, Podrick?” You teased him
“No, no (Y/N)” He said your name with a smile.
“Good, I thought your interest in me had finally subsided.”
“I don’t think it could.”
It made you smile again, 'seven hells' you thought, falling for such things.
You looked around and saw no one in the hall, you pulled him into another kiss.
NOTE:sowwy this took so long, i wuv you!
TAG LIST:
@ryn-away @boojaynaqueen @holierthancunt @symonedoesart
#podrick#podrick payne#podrick x reader#podrick x you#podrick x y/n#podrick payne x reader#podrick payne x you#podrick payne x y/n#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones fic#game of thrones fanfic#game of thrones#got fanfic#got fic#got#podrick headcanons#smut#got smut#got x reader#bronn#ser bronn of the blackwater#tyrion lannister#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Kindness
summary: you're finally ramsay's most favorite toy, but is that really a good thing?
pairing: ramsay bolton x reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark content it's ramsay hello, blood kink but no injury/gore, mentioned major character death (again, no injury/gore), slight au (ramsay wins battle of the bastards), choking, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation/degradation, slapping, piv sex, unprotected sex don't be silly wrap ur willy, hair pulling, creampie, slight breeding kink, puppy play, boot humping idk how to else to phrase it, slight angst but a happy ending for ramsay lmao, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 6.2k
a/n: my first foray into dark or at least semi-dark writing and my first time writing ramsay! i've had this one in my head for such a long time so it feels really good to actually get it out! hope everyone enjoys and please make sure to heed the warnings with this one!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🖤 my masterlist
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
“Dip the cloth again, you dolt,” you snap, looking up from the scroll of parchment rolled out before you on the table when you hear the coarse woolen cloth begin to scrape dryly across the silver Ramsay’s… thing was supposed to be polishing, “If I have to remind you of that one more time, I’ll tell him you tried to touch me. I wonder which part of you he’d hack off for that, hm?”
Reek’s eyes go wide at your threat and he nods his head frantically, quickly reaching over and dunking the cloth into the small bowl of vinegar before him. “Yes, m’lady. Apologies, m’lady.”
A small sigh leaves your lips as you rest an elbow on the table, nose scrunching up slightly at the sour smell that seems to hang like a cloud over the room, the small one by the kitchens.
Probably where the staff ate, you think, staring blankly at the fire crackling away in the hearth. You’ve tried hard to picture it – Winterfell in its former glory, trussed up with wolf banners and filled with children’s laughter, how it was when the Stark’s called it home.
Your eyes linger on Reek and for a second, you’re halfway tempted to ask him about it – what it was like living here, being one of them. You don’t, knowing the question would fall on deaf ears at the least, or send him spiraling to the point of being unable to finish his chores, and then it would be your head on the chopping block as well.
Distantly, you hear the familiar baying of Ramsay’s hounds and your eyes flick up to the narrow slit windows on the wall; you do your best to ignore the way Reek’s head swivels to the sound in the same instance yours does, the way that adrenaline so keenly rushes through you – a burst of panic leading the charge before you have the chance to correct it.
Anticipation, you remind yourself, jaw clenched, Passion, excitement.
Your eyes vacantly scan over the parchment you’d nabbed from the library earlier that morning, an account of the birth of Arya, apparently the sister of the one that had actually managed to escape some weeks back, no doubt frozen now in one of the snowy forests that surrounds Winterfell. You don’t really care, your thoughts once again reverting back to Myranda. Bitterly, you remember how he never made her stay behind when he went hunting, never made her watch over his man-servant, never made her second guess.
The last one is a lie, the truth woven deeply into the many nights you’d spent up with her – listening as she fretted about each word she’d uttered to him that day, hoping each one had been right and had been said at the right time, that he wouldn’t find some made-up cause to punish her. Tendrils of jealousy had twisted into you even then, even as she painted a picture of what he truly was.
Just as men’s voices filter through the windows from the courtyard outside, your lips quirk up into a mean, victorious little smirk.
It’s her body he fed to the dogs, you think, the voice in your mind a proud hiss, Just like Violet’s and Tansy’s and Kyra’s. You remember the day well enough, remember the shock of seeing your friend's body laying in the courtyard as you’d run out to greet Ramsay, teal eyes staring at nothing. It had been you that had warmed his bed that very night, and all the ones after it.
“There you are,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, nearly making you yelp as Reek scrambles to stand up from the table. Before you even have a chance to, a strong hand clasps over your shoulder, stilling your movements, “No, no, don’t get up on my account.” Rusty copper stains color his hand, dried blood outlining each of his nails. You don’t let your mind linger on what the source of it could be.
You whip your head around and swallow nervously as he chuckles lowly, “Ramsay!” You breathe in greeting, the corners of your lips tilting up into a tentative smile, though that’s quickly washed away as you take in the messy splotches of red that stain his coat and tunic, that snake their way up the pale column of his throat and dot the sides of his face.
He looks every bit the hunter and you wonder, not for the first time, what that makes you.
“You seem quite comfortable here, pet,” he drawls, leaning down until he’s eye-level with you, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re more at home down here with the help,” he continues, hand tightening to the point of pain on your shoulder, making you grit your teeth, “Than you are in our chambers where you’re meant to be.”
Our chambers. A privilege he never granted her. Stupidly, your heart sings.
His hand tightens on your shoulder once more, finally drawing a pained whine from your lips.
“Y-You told me to watch him! To make sure he –” You’re cut off as Ramsay unceremoniously hauls you to your feet, clawing at your leather doublet. A cry leaves your lips as the hand on your shoulder tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging as he forces your head back, blue eyes flicking to your neck as you swallow thickly.
“I told you to be in our chambers when I return from hunts,” he corrects you, standing to his full height as he holds you tightly, forcing you unsteadily onto your tip-toes, “That I expected you to be at the door, ready and waiting for me.” His lips ghost over your ear as he speaks, his voice a low growl that shouldn’t excite you the way it does.
“I’m sorry,” you wince internally at the way your voice comes out as a pained little squeak, your hands scrambling to hang onto his forearm, nails digging into the stained quilted fabric of his jacket.
“You know how I get after a hunt,” he suddenly pulls away from you, his hand pulling out of your hair, a gasp leaving you as your heels drop to the floor. You blink as he reaches up, not flinching from years of practice, though instead of striking you or harshly gripping at your jaw like you expect, his hand cups your cheek. Your chest rises and falls as he strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, blood stained fingers now delicate against your soft skin.
“Today’s was a special one, too. Don’t you remember?” He questions, icy eyes sliding from yours to the red-headed man still standing by the table, glimmering cruelly as he smirks.
Still, you nod your head, knowing Reek won’t answer. “To celebrate killing Jon Snow,” you breathe, gripping at the leather of his tunic, desperate to win even a scrap of approval.
Surprisingly, he grants it – fixing you with a proud little grin, like how an owner would look at a dog that’s just mastered a new trick. “That’s right,” his hand ruffles the hair on the top of your head, a gesture that should feel demeaning, yet it sends a tingle of pride through you instead, “Seems you can remember something after all.” He pulls away and traipses over to Reek, hands clasped behind his back.
“Surely you remember too, Reek? You were in the kennels that evening when the dogs had their treat, were you not?” He taunts, the playful inflection in his voice entirely for show, “Our little problem’s been dealt with and now we hold not only the Dreadfort but Winterfell as well! What do you think about that, hm?” Ramsay studies the other man carefully, eyes flitting over his face as he takes great pleasure in the subtle twitches of pain that still manage to flicker through the harsh conditioning he’d endured. Your eyes stay fixed firmly on the stone floor.
“A… A great victory, master!”
“Yes, a great victory, indeed,” he smiles, watching Reek for another moment before turning back to you. His smile morphs into a cold, callous frown that ties your stomach into knots, each of his steps making your heart hammer faster in your chest. “You know, it’s actually rather amusing,” he starts, bloodied fingers twirling a stray lock of your hair, “How my hounds seem to be continually more well trained than you, pretty little idiot.”
Pretty, pretty, pretty! Your heart thumps dumbly, a rabbit in a snare.
“I’ll do better!” You whimper, shaking your head frantically as your eyes meet his, “I can do better, really, I was just confu–”
The hand in your hair shoots down suddenly, yanking several strands with it as he clamps it around your neck. “Confused?” Ramsay murmurs, watching with rapt attention at how you struggle in his hold, lips quivering as the words die in your throat, “Really? I give you one task, I ask one thing of you, and you can’t even figure that out? You still disappoint me?”
He’s not expecting an answer, you know this, and yet you still try to give one as your mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, only the faintest little whines managing to escape. You feel faint, both from his grip around your throat and from the myriad of emotions coursing through your veins – your heart twists at the thought of failing him, your stomach is in knots as various punishments flash through your mind, and yet your center still sparks, still sends little glimmers of arousal through you.
His grip loosens enough to allow you to suck in several shaky lungfuls of air as he snickers, endlessly amused at how eager you still are, how you still yearn so deeply for him. Again, he pats your head condescendingly, muttering little hushes as if you were a crying puppy. “Lucky for you, pet, I have plenty of experience training stubborn bitches,” Ramsay chuckles, blue eyes glimmering with mirth when he feels you swallow apprehensively, “I think we’ll have your behavior corrected in no time, won’t we? Even the stupidest of beasts can still learn a trick or two.”
Before you have time to react, the hand cradling the crown of your head harshly grabs at your hair again, tugging you suddenly toward the door. “Ah!” You yelp, stumbling as he all but drags you behind him, your hands shake as they struggle to grab onto his forearm, “Ramsay, pl–!”
“You should be grateful I am allowing you the kindness of walking!” He growls, sparing you a glance over his shoulder as he leads you through the Great Hall, “Pity I’m so protective of you, really, I’m sure it would be quite entertaining for my men to watch you crawl.” His drawled threat sends a spark of fear down your spine and you pant, chest heaving, as you shuffle behind him; your cheeks burn as several of his soldiers sitting at the long wooden tables catcall as you stagger past them.
Finally, the two of you reach your shared chambers, that fact sending a little torrent of satisfaction through you even now. Unceremoniously, Ramsay all but tosses you inside and you whimper as your hip collides with an edge of the decorative table just inside the door, no doubt hard enough to bruise but at least it breaks your fall.
“It’s quite unfortunate, normally find your impudence amusing,” he starts lowly, pressing the old wooden door closed with a thud before sliding the lock into place with a self-satisfied grin, “But I know you know better, don’t you, little one?” He asks as he stalks toward you.
Your breath catches in your throat as he stands before you, studying you silently for a second in the same calculated way he studies a deer through the sight of his bow. Not knowing what else to do, you silently nod your head as your eyes slip down to the floor, like a child being scolded.
“You’ve been with me the longest now,” he murmurs as if you don’t know, one bloodstained hand grabbing at your waist as the other fits around the back of your neck, once again forcing your eyes to his face, “We grew up together, you and I. You know my ways, my rules, isn’t that right?”
Again, you nod your head, bottom lip trembling with the want to explain yourself, although you know that would only make things worse.
“That’s what makes your disobedience so frustrating,” his blue eyes bore into yours as he speaks, his lip sticking out in a mocking pout, “Because you do know better and yet you’re stupid enough to act out anyway, hm?” His tone is sharper now, dangerous like the pointed tip of an arrow.
“I wasn’t acting out!” The words claw themselves out of your throat before you can stop them and instantly you know you’ve made a mistake, but now you’re desperate to remedy it, “I wasn’t, really! I j-just misunderstood you, that’s –”
Your pleas come to a screeching halt as his hand smacks across your face, the other grips at your jaw tightly, tight enough to make you whine softly in his grasp. Your eyes squeeze shut for a second, cheek stinging, before they open and lock with his again, wild and desperately.
I wasn’t being insolent! You scream silently, hoping he can somehow hear you, that maybe all of your years with him would’ve granted that ability, I would never! I was doing as you said, like always!
“I was wrong earlier, wasn’t I?” Ramsay mutters, so close to you that your foreheads nearly touch. Your eyes widen slightly at his words, heart thumping in a hopeful little staccato, though he wrenches that away quickly enough, “You’re not a dog at all, no, a dog would be obedient and docile.”
Your brows knit together with confusion at his words, biting so hard into your lower lip that you’re shocked you don’t taste blood. Although, you can’t help the surprised little gasp that leaves you when his hands begin quickly tugging at the laces of your bodice as your own remain in white-knuckled fists at your sides, the whole of you determined to stay still like a statue, a plaything.
“No, you my sweet little pet,” he growls sarcastically, low voice morphing into a pleased chuckle as he tugs your bodice off; the shirt below it quickly follows and a small part of you blooms with pride at the happy little sigh he lets out at the sight of your breasts.
“You’re just a dumb puppy, aren’t you?” He chuckles against your throat, nipping at your skin more so than kissing it, although you relish the feel of his lips on you all the same. “A dumb, defiant little puppy,” he continues, hastily pulling at the ties of your skirts and you whimper despite yourself when they finally fall to the floor, pooling at your feet, “That’s in desperate need of more training.”
He stops, pausing for a mere second, and pulls back just enough to look at you, no doubt gaining satisfaction from the desperation written so plainly on your face. There’s a hunger in his cold eyes – a predator silently deciding to go for the jugular, nocking an arrow on his bow.
You whine as he properly kisses at your throat now, his hands rough against your skin as he grabs at your hips. One skims higher to cup your breast, the unexpected gentleness of his touches causes you to shiver and whine in his grasp and into his mouth as he kisses you finally, his full lips moving steadily in time with yours.
Harsh pants leave your lips as your heart pumps madly in your chest, his touches always work you up so quickly. The thought of him still being fully clothed as he left you bare and vulnerable made you hotter still; the feel of his warm leather tunic against your exposed skin, of his bloodied hands against your supple skin, drives you mad.
Before you have time to second guess your movements, you begin blindly pulling at the strings on his leather tunic, desperate to feel him against you. Surprisingly, he lets you tug it off of him, granting you a last meal of sorts, and you can’t help but to smile into the kiss, gasping into his mouth as he unbuttons his jacket himself before quickly tossing it aside as well. He’s panting nearly as harshly as you are as the two of you part long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head, your hands immediately go to his chest the second it joins the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor.
Your eyes flicker over him as the two of you pause, the knot in your belly growing tighter at the sight of his taut stomach and chest, the low, warm glow of the many candles dotted throughout your chambers accentuating each muscular dip. Your fingers shake as they trail over him and you feel a sick sense of pride twist in your stomach at the fact that, unlike so many men, his skin isn’t mottled with years of scars and bruises. No, his is flawless, a pale, unmarred, ruthless canvas – a flawless killer.
Of course, he can’t let you have this reprieve for long. A good trainer doesn’t spoil his pet.
A soft, broken gasp leaves you as one hand wraps around your neck again, slotting perfectly against your throat like a collar, as he walks you a few paces further into the room, closer to the small hearth by the bed. “Kneel,” his command leaves no room for anything but obedience; you swallow thickly, nervously, and do as he says, lips parting ever so slightly when your knees rest on plush bear skin instead of hard stone.
A kindness, even now.
Ramsay’s lips twist into a proud grin as you stare up at him, legs folded beneath you with your hands poised perfectly on your thighs, a familiar stance he’d taught you years ago. “Good girl,” he mutters, fingers threading gently through your hair as you moan softly.
“Thank y – Ah!”
“No,” he chides harshly, tugging your head back by the roots of your hair until your neck is bared to him, your back arched, “Puppies don’t talk, dumb little thing,” he growls, shifting more closely to you in order to gain a better hold on your hair, close enough that you whimper as your front is pressed firmly against the length of his leg, the thick fabric of his trousers rough against your skin as one of his feet slots between your thighs, “A well-trained pet certainly doesn’t.”
The knot in your belly seizes at his words, aided by the laces of his leather boots brushing oh-so gently against your center, the knotted fabric sticking against the wetness already leaking from your clenching cunt. You whine, high-pitched and frantic when he clutches your hair tighter still, his fist white knuckled against the crown of your head.
“A well-trained little pet would always obey their master, wouldn’t they?” You can’t miss the breathiness of his voice now, his tone lower and smoother than it normally is, and the sound makes your hips hump against his boot before you can stop yourself, your nipples stiff, nearly aching, as they rub against his trousers.
A low, rumbled laugh echoes through your chambers when your arms wrap around his leg, fingers digging desperately into the firm muscle of his thigh. “Aww,” he coos mockingly, licking his lips as he watches you, his attention making blood rush to the apples of your cheeks, “Is my pretty little puppy getting off on this? Does your cunt drip when I tell you how stupid and worthless you are?”
The sound of your blood pumping furiously through your veins thuds in your ears, Pretty, pretty pretty!
You whine as you try to eagerly nod your head, his hold on your hair preventing you from moving much, though your hips rut steadily against his boot now – pressing tightly against the worn fabric, the knots from his laces rubbing perfectly over the throbbing little pearl at your center.
“You look like you’re having fun,” he drawls, cold eyes shining as he studies you closely, chest heaving in time with yours as his cock hardens in his pants, “Are you having fun, little one?”
Again, you try to nod, keening brokenly as your eyes stay fixed on his. You pant harshly against his leg, breath fragmented as they’re punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter and tighter with each pass of your slick center over the laces of his boot.
He knows, of course. As soon as he ordered you to stay in the kitchens with Reek this morning, he knew – knew you’d follow his orders to the letter, even if they contradicted his previous ones. He knew he’d find you there, knew he’d punish you for it, knew exactly how he wanted to break you down so that it could be him who built you back up. He’s known you the longest, you’d grown up together. He knows, of course he does. He’s nothing if not a thorough hunter.
A loud, broken whine leaves you when he flexes his foot, pressing his boot harder against you still. You’re helpless to do much else aside from stare up at him, gasping, while your hips buck against him as quickly as your sore muscles will allow, your high barreling toward you at a breakneck pace.
All of that comes to a sudden, screeching halt though when he moves again, shifting his weight until his boot is just out of reach. The sudden lack of stimulation makes your back arch further still, your muscles taut like a drawn bow.
“Oh, poor little puppy,” he laughs, watching gleefully as you whine loudly, the peak that had been so close fading away, leaving you aching, “If you thought it was going to be that easy, you haven’t been paying attention.” He taunts, crouching until he’s eye-level with you, smirking as his movements cause his pull on your hair to become tighter, making you wince, though his hand thankfully releases its grasp once he settles.
“Mmm,” you mewl softly as he caresses your breasts again, jumping slightly when he thumbs over your nipple before softly pinching at it, giving the other one the same treatment. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back further still, pressing against the palm of his hand as he kneads at your chest, eager for any stimulation you can get.
“Myranda was never like this,” he says suddenly, his voice low, steady, calculated. He smiles cruelly when your eyes snap open at the sound of her name, the back of your throat tight as tears already blur your vision – just like he wanted. “No, Myranda always behaved perfectly, she always did exactly what I said.”
He leans forward suddenly, the side of his face pressed firmly against yours so that when he speaks, you’re sure to hear every syllable, to feel them punctuated against the skin of your neck. “She was perfect. I never had to punish her for the same thing twice, you know. Not like I do with you.”
You shudder as his lips press against your skin again, pressing eager kisses against the wet trail of tears running down your cheek. He admires the way your shoulders shake as you sob, the way the subtle movement makes your breasts bounce, the way your cheeks flush so prettily, how your eyes always shine so brightly with fresh tears in them.
Ramsay loves breaking you – adores the moment when his arrow is finally launched free from his bow, adores the moment he sees it pierce your little heart. He loves you, in his way.
Not that he’d tell you that.
He lets you sob for a moment longer, all the while pressing hot kisses against your cheeks, relishing the salty taste of your tears as the little droplets of blood still caked to his skin mar your pretty face, staining it with delicate streaks of red. His cock twitches at the sight, black pupils nearly drowning out the blue of his eyes – maybe one day he’d bring you hunting, what a sight you’d be covered in the bright blood of a fresh kill.
“Myranda never needed training, puppy, not in the way you do,” he nearly whispers, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he leans back enough to grab at your chin, tilting your face up to his, “That’s what made her so boring.”
“Huh?” You breathe, sobs stalling for a second as you process what he’d just said, your obvious surprise making him laugh lowly again.
“What? Does that shock you? That I found her boring?” He questions, eyebrow raised, “Why would perfection be interesting?”
Your eyes search his face as he shifts, kneeling rather than crouching. A little glimmer of pride sparks to life within you as he kisses you again, your lips moving against his frantically, mewling when he pushes his tongue into your mouth and nips at your bottom lip.
“I never got to train her,” he breathes against your lips, grunting at the way your hands skim over his chest and stomach, grabbing at him so frantically, “I hardly got to punish her; if I gave her an order, she would follow it blindly – it made her predictable, it made her boring.”
“N-Not like me?” You whisper hopefully, meeting his gaze through half-lidded eyes as you pant, your chest pressed tightly to his.
“No, sweet pet, not like you,” Ramsay smiles, making your heart sing as it leaps beneath your ribs, “I get to train you, don’t I? And punish you when that little puppy brain can’t follow the simplest of orders.”
You should be offended, should feel mocked and belittled, but you don’t. Instead, you nod your head eagerly, preening like a proud little bird at his praise, because that’s what is, really. Ramsay will never be one to sing your praises softly like other men, but he admires you all the same.
Before you have time to reply, he grabs at your waist and abruptly maneuvers you, manhandling you until you’re poised on your hands and knees, cheek pressed firmly against the fur rug beneath you.
“I get to play with you, pet,” he drawls lowly, pressing a hand into the small of your back and grunting appreciatively when you arch down like he wants, licking his lips as your cunt finally comes into view, shining already in the low candlelight. He smirks at the way you moan when he presses his hard length against you, grinding against your slit, chest heaving at how warm you are even through his trousers, “Don’t I?”
“Yes!” You nod eagerly, pressing back against him like a wanton whore, nearly dizzy with need when his fingers bump against you as he quickly undoes the laces on his pants, “Yes, yes, yes, please!”
“Ohh, so you can be good, hm?” He teases, groaning in relief when he pushes his trousers down just enough to free his cock, too impatient to remove them entirely, “Seems my training’s working nicely.”
Mindlessly, you nod, willing to agree with whatever he says so long as he gets inside you.
Mercifully, you don’t have to wait long. A loud cry fills your chambers as he presses into you, the slight sting of his thick cock stretching you open making you shiver, a familiar sensation since he was rarely ever patient enough to work you open on his fingers.
Immediately, he sets a brutal pace, his hips pressing against yours tightly each time he pushes forward, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust. Your cunt clenches at him greedily and your hands scramble against the rug beneath you, fingers tangling into the furs, desperate for something to anchor yourself.
“Fuck, tight little cunt,” Ramsay grunts harshly above you, his hands gripping meanly at your hips, hard enough to leave bruises.
“R-Ramsay, fuck… fuck,” you whimper beneath him, your eyes squeezed shut tightly as the knot in your belly threatens to unravel, your walls pulsing rhythmically around his length each time it spears into you.
He chuckles breathlessly at your little murmurs and runs a hand up the length of your back before grabbing at the hair at the nape of your neck, relishing the little cry you give as he pulls you up until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. “Are you close already?” He mocks smugly, his fingers untangling from your hair to wrap once more around your throat as his other paws at your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples.
You swallow thickly, throat bobbing under his grip, and nod your head the best you can, grabbing at his thick forearm.
“Do you think I’m going to let you?” He teases, biting harshly at your shoulder as his hips keep up a punishing rhythm.
You nearly sob at the question, so desperate, but still you shake your head, cunt pulsing around his length. “No, n-no…” You moan mournfully, voice hoarse from his hold.
He chuckles behind you, his chest rumbling against your back as he kisses and bites at your earlobe, your shoulder, any part of your neck not covered by his hand, each touch driving you mad. “Finally, that little brain seems to be working,” he grunts, laughing lowly as he abandons your breasts long enough to slap your cheek, blessedly soft this time, “I’m having too much fun playing with you to let you go that easily,” He drawls, chuckling once more when you whine.
“In fact,” he continues, reaching down and rubbing his fingers roughly against your aching bud, just enough to make you cry out before he suddenly pulls away again, tugging his length from you as he lets you flop to the floor with a little grunt, “I want to see you do a trick,” he whispers, rubbing over your ass before smack it roughly, making you jump, “Roll over.”
“Wha –” You start to question, only to be cut off with a loud cry as his hand spanks you once more.
“Be a good fucking puppy and roll over.”
His order leaves no room for questioning and obediently, you listen and roll over onto your back with a little whimper. You keep your legs bent up when you settle, keeping yourself on display for him, clenching around nothing as you eye his hard cock bobbing against his stomach, the tip red and leaking.
“Good little pet,” he praises, his words going straight to your pearl as you shudder. Hastily, he pushes your legs up further, one hand holding you open as he presses his cock back into you, savoring your loud whine, the way your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He resumes his harsh pace, slamming into you as he chases his high now, blue eyes trailing appreciatively over your trembling body, watching as your breasts bounce with each unforgiving thrust he gives.
“Please, please, Gods, please!” You whine frantically as he presses his hips against yours, grinding into you, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your bud perfectly, “Ramsay, p-please! I – fuck!”
He laughs breathlessly at your cries and leans down when you arch your back toward him, mouthing savagely at your chest, teeth nipping at the fat of your breasts before he licks over your nipples. He knows each touch is only driving you closer and closer to your release, yet he still doesn’t give you permission, a part of him meanly hopes you’ll slip over anyway and give him another reason to punish you, like he actually needs a reason.
Still, you have been good today and he does love how willing and docile you become when you peak, so malleable – entirely submissive, entirely his.
He bites and kisses his way up along your chest and neck before licking into your mouth for a moment, eagerly swallowing each desperate little cry before grabbing at your neck once more. Greedy, he turns your head to him, needing to see that empty-headed, hazy look in your eyes when he lets you finish.
His cock jerks at the sight of you, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you try desperately to hold off, cheeks flushed, reddened lips parted. He grunts, feeling his balls tighten, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm.
“Cum, puppy,” he growls, forehead pressed against yours.
Your lips part in a silent curse as your high slams into you, each muscle in your body contracting at once. Your eyes bore into his wildly as your cunt spasms tightly around his cock, eyes rolling back as he fucks you through it.
“Fuck!” He grunts, growling lowly as his cock spasms within you, your walls all but milking his own high from him as well. His hips slam into you a few more times before he stills, gasping as he fills you with his spend.
The two of you lay together for a moment, panting loudly against one another. Ramsay is the first to move, shushing you as he pulls his softening length from you, making you whine.
Distantly, a part of you twists gleefully when you feel his seed drip from you, another thing he never dared do with her.
“Here,” he says softly, offering you a hand, which you gladly take, letting him help you stand since you doubt you’d be able to on your own. Finally, you stand on your feet, albeit unsteadily, and grab onto the foot of the carved wooden bedframe to steady yourself. Strangely, he stays with you, neither of you saying anything as he holds you, blue eyes studying you as they gleam with some unknown emotion.
After a moment, you try to pull away, meaning to leave as you always do, not one to wait around for his order anymore.
“Stop,” he murmurs, only pulling away once you still, “Stay.” He orders, an unfamiliar softness to his voice. Your head reels, eyes staring unfocused as you try to make sense of… whatever this is, whatever his game may be now.
He returns quickly enough, a damp cloth in his and from the small wash basin he keeps on the vanity. You reach out to grab it, to clean yourself off like you assume he wants, and yet he stops you, holding the cloth out of your grasp until you lower your hand again.
“Obedient puppies get rewards,” he says softly, all of the harshness from before absent from his tone as he answers your silent questions. You nearly freeze when he presses one small, gentle kiss against your forehead. Finally, he makes quick work of wiping between your legs, taking care to wipe away any of his spend that leaked from you.
“Thank you…” You nearly whisper, voice scratchy from his earlier treatment. That doesn’t feel like the right thing to say but if it isn’t, he doesn't say.
Silently, he cups your chin, lifting it enough to give him room to check your neck, trailing his hand over it lightly until he must be satisfied that you’re okay, that he hadn’t treated you too badly.
Kind, even still.
A few moments later, you recline in the plush bed, watching as he kicks off his boots before joining you, lying with you under the soft blankets. This part, at least, you’re used to – lying together like this but not touching, not cuddling, that’s too intimate, too close.
He hadn’t said that, wouldn’t say that, but you knew.
A surprised little gasp leaves you when he pulls you close, hands, clean now that he’d taken a moment to wash them, resting on you gently. One smoothes up and down your arm as he lets you lay against his chest, cheek pressed against his collarbone, his chin resting on your head; the other grabs at your thigh, pulling you to him until you’re tucked into his side, one leg propped over his hips.
“You did well,” he says softly, chest vibrating under your cheek as he speaks, “With your training, I mean. You did well. I’m… proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
The two of you are silent after that, neither of you knowing how to handle this new territory that you seem to be spilling into, but you don’t care, not with your heart pounding quickly in your chest. You’d think you were dying if it weren’t for the savage sense of victory threading through every inch of you.
Proud, proud, proud! The word echoes in your head with each pump of blood through your heart. It was so small, the barest of compliments, but from Ramsay it meant the world. It was something he’d said to you, only you, never to her, not once. Never to anyone else.
His chest rises and falls under your cheek, breath steady and even. He always falls asleep quickly, normally you do too. But not this time, not tonight, not wanting to let this moment fade just yet.
He loves you, in his way.
tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @iamawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino @targaryenbarbie @fan-goddess
(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)
#my writing#ramsay bolton#ramsay bolton x reader#ramsay bolton fanfiction#ramsay bolton fanfic#ramsay bolton fic#ramsay bolton smut#game of thrones#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones fanfic#game of thrones fic#game of thrones smut#got#got fanfiction#got fanfic#got fic#got smut#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#smut#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf
416 notes
·
View notes
Text
under the weirwood
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x stark!reader
summary: requested by anon: "rhaenyra trying to talk jace into approaching reader:-(shes just so supportive mshdhshs"
notes: y'all when i tell you this made me BLUSH! he's actually adorable i might be perhaps in love
no warnings! just fluff
jacaerys velaryon was a learned boy of eight-and-ten, prince of dragonstone and heir to the iron throne of westeros – yet he was completely tongue tied anytime you were near.
you first met the prince when he came to winterfell to visit your brother – lord cregan stark. he arrived on dragonback, sending up plumes of snow when he landed. assembled with the other lords and ladies of the keep, you retreated further into your fine furs. winter had come, and it was a cold one.
“my prince,” lord cregan announced, welcoming jacaerys as he entered the gates, now on foot, “the north welcomes you.”
“i’m pleased to make your acquaintance, lord cregan,” jacaerys smiled, warm and open, “many thanks to your house for such a welcome.”
cregan nodded, then gestured to you, “my younger sister.”
you dutifully stepped forward, curtsied, and introduced yourself, “welcome, your grace. i have heard many tales of your bravery.”
was the prince… blushing?
he seemed to stutter for a moment before he nodded stiffly, “my lady.”
for a feast held in his honor, the prince did not seem to be enjoying it much.
you, however, were in your element. the north was a large place, so cold and empty that you rarely had guests. to have so many of the great houses together? you were delighted.
from the moment the dancing started, you didn’t leave the floor. you accepted every man who offered his hand, twirling and spinning and giggling with the other ladies until you practically fell over.
when you returned to your seat beside your brother's, you were flushed and panting. he was off somewhere you did not know, so only an empty chair sat between you and prince jacaerys.
“you do not dance, your grace?” you questioned, pouring yourself a cup of wine.
“i confess it is not my forte,” he looked away with a laugh, “and please, call me jace.”
you took a sip of the deep red liquid, “only if you will grant me a dance. jace.”
you held out a hand, and grinned when he took it. he took the lead from there, leading you out onto the center of the floor. the light grey fabric of your skirts swirled around his dark leather, the silver embroidery shining in candlelight.
“i don’t wish to imply you are a liar,” you began, spinning away from him, then back in, “but you are quite the dancer, my – jace.”
he just chuckled, ducking his head, “you are far outshining me, my lady.”
the next day, jacaerys brought news at breakfast, “my lady mother will be joining us tomorrow. she will only stay for a short while, but wishes to make your acquaintance, lord cregan.”
“how delightful,” you smiled, “to think, brother – the queen, here!”
“yes, yes,” he huffed, then looked at the prince, “we would of course be delighted to host queen rhaenyra.”
“will she be arriving on syrax, jacaerys?” you inquired, and when he nodded, you grinned even wider, “i never dreamed i would see a dragon in this lifetime, but to have two right here at winterfell!”
“would… would you like to go see vermax, my lady?” the prince proposed.
“oh, brother, please,” you sighed, “may i?”
cregan only waved his hand and continued eating.
within half an hour, you and jacaerys were standing in front of the dragon. he was sleeping when you arrived, but a huge golden eye opened as he sensed your approach.
you froze as he examined you, but jacaerys held his arm steady at your back, “it’s alright, my lady. he’s – he won’t hurt you. he’s a gentle creature.”
you were so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him when vermax fully awoke, raising his head up.
you stumbled back, but jacaerys put himself in between you and the dragon, “umbas, vermax.”
he helped you move closer, and whispered, “lykiri. this is lady stark, vermax.”
the dragon huffed, almost like a petulant child, but when jace moved your hand to his snout, he didn’t object.
you laughed in amazement, “what did you say to him?”
“it’s high valyrian – umbas means ‘stay’, and lykiri means ‘calm’.”
“lykiri,” you whispered, running the tips of your fingers across his smooth scales, “how do you say hello?”
he smiled, reaching out to stroke the dragon, “rytsas.”
“rytsas, vermax,” the word was unfamiliar on your tongue, but vermax lowered his head. still awake, but clearly relaxed, “he’s beautiful.”
“he is,” jacaerys agreed, but he was watching you.
queen rhaenyra, true to her word, arrived the next day. once again, you bundled up in your finest furs to await her arrival. syrax’s entrance was grand, yellow scales glinting in the sunlight as the queen landed her. she was enormous, bigger than vermax, but seemed docile.
as your brother introduced you, she eyed you carefully. but, you held your head high, smiled brightly and curtsied as low as you could.
“the young lady stark is quite beautiful,” rhaenrya stated to her son, “have you had much chance to become acquainted?”
she was resting on a chair by the fireplace in her quarters, warming herself after the freezing ride to winterfell.
“a bit. i took her to meet vermax,” he sighed, leaning on the mantle, “i confess – i can scarcely speak to her. everytime i do, i make a fool of myself. i’m the prince of dragonstone, and i start stuttering like a child”
“oh my darling,” she smiled knowingly, “you have affections for her?”
he knew before he answered. everytime you smiled at him, it was like dragonfire warming his insides. your touch sent sparks down his arms, the way you moved when you danced entranced him. even vermax seemed to like you.
so, he nodded, blushing creeping up his neck.
“you must tell her then,” rhaenyra decided, leaning back in the chair, “you are the crown prince of the seven kingdoms, but i will give you leave to pursue your own choice in wife. and the lady stark would not be an unwelcome match.”
“what?” he furrowed his eyebrows.
rhaenyra sighed, “jace. if you like her, you must make your affections known. if you wish to marry her – you have my blessing. though i cannot speak for cregan stark, i believe it would be an excellent match.”
after begging his leave from his mother, jace nearly sprinted to your quarters. when he arrived, he found only a servant who informed him you were in the godswood. by the time he found his way through the labyrinth of trees, he was panting and sweating despite the cold.
you heard footsteps and looked up from the tome you were reading by the weirdwood in the center, “my – jace?” you stood as he approached you, “are you alright?”
he could scarcely breathe as he took your hands in his, “can i kiss you, my lady?”
you froze, mouth agape, searching his face. you tried to say yes, yes, please, but no sound would leave your throat. all you could do was nod and his lips were on yours. his hands moved to cup your face so tenderly, while yours curled in the fabric of his tunic. it was breathless and sweet and over all too soon.
jace was nearly gasping by the time he let you go, “i – my apologies. i ran here.” his hands moved to hold your waist.
“wh–,” you laughed, cupping his cheek, feeling the hard line of his jaw, “why did you do that?”
“i wanted to ask you to marry me,” he let out a nervous breath.
you froze once again. a pause.
“you don’t jest?” you whispered.
he shook his head vehemently, “no, no, never. i confess i have made a fool of myself time and again, but you – you are everything wonderful in this world. you are bold and tender and i completely adore you. please,” he breathed, “please, marry me.”
“yes,” you murmured, moving closer until your foreheads touched, “a thousandfold, yes.”
when his lips met yours again, you could feel him smile against them.
#jacaerys velaryon fic#jacaerys velaryon#jace velaryon x reader#jace velaryon#jacaerys targaryen#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon x you#hotd fic#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones fic#game of thrones#asoiaf#stark!reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Please write about Harwin being married to Rhaenyra's sister. When the kids' fight happens in Driftmark, it's their son who attacks Aemond because he was defending his cousins and brother, who were fighting with Aemond and because he called them bastards. When Harwin and her arrive at the hall, they see everyone judging their kids, so they get protective over them, and the reader is the one to stand up against Alicent with the dagger, while Harwin protects their sons by hiding them behind him.
ooooh I love this! I hope I gave your idea justice!
Armor
warnings: f!targaryen!reader, fighting, not proofread, reader has children with harwin strong, no use of Y/N
summary: aemond loses an eye to your sons, but your only concern is protecting your family.
author’s note: I loved this request so much! I also tried to not make it an exact replica of the actual scene, and I didn’t want to make the names of the children the same as Rhaenyra’s, so they will be unnamed lol.
You practically sprinted down the corridors, fear driving your every step. Your hands grasped your nightgown to keep the fabric out of the way, wanting nothing to slow you down. You faintly registered the sound of thundering footsteps behind you– Harwin– but you were so focused on your mission it was as if he wasn’t even there.
When you reached the doors to the chamber, you pushed them open with all of your might, slightly stumbling into the room. All heads turned your way as you frantically searched for your sons.
“Boys!” You cried out, rushing over to them as you spotted them. They were standing by Rhaenyra and Daemon, with one of Rhaenyra’s hands on each of their shoulders. Their faces showed clear signs of relief as you hurried over to them and crouched down to their level, pulling them to you in a fierce embrace.
The room was silent as they watched the display before them. Harwin was right behind you, a hand resting on your shoulder as you squeezed your children. They put up no fight– they were as relieved to see you as you were to see them.
You pulled back from them after you were sure they wouldn’t be ripped away from you. Your hands cupped the cheeks of your youngest, turning his chin this way and that as you examined his bloodied face.
“What happened?” You asked him softly, concerned.
“Your children,” Alicent spat the words from somewhere behind you. You didn’t bother turning to look at her; you kept your gaze focused on the two boys in front of you. “Attacked my son.”
“I’m sure that whatever they did, they did in self defense.” Harwin spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest.
You two had been sleeping when a servant had abruptly entered your quarters to tell you the news. You hadn’t had the mind to make yourself more presentable, and neither had your husband.
You both stood in your nightclothes, and as you rose to stand beside your husband, you realized how underdressed you were compared to the rest of the room.
Alicent scoffed from her place by her wounded son. You watched them as you snaked a hand around one of Harwin’s arms. He looked down at you briefly before turning his attention back to Alicent.
“It was not self defense, it was planned and it was an attack. Your sons and Daemon’s girls cornered him and beat him–” she began, but was swiftly cut off by your eldest.
“He called us bastards!” Your eldest cried in outrage, pointing a finger at Aemond.
The room fell deathly silent. Your grip on Harwin’s arm tightened dangerously. Fury seethed through your veins at the false accusation.
It was not the first time you had heard those words. Alicent and the greens had been attempting to undermine you and Rhaenyra for years, but tensions were growing as you all grew older. With your father’s rapidly declining health, both sides were preparing to take the throne. Therefore, Alicent had recently taken to spreading lies throughout the castle about you and your sister. She never outright said anything, of course– but she had planted seeds that had grown quickly in the underbelly of the Red Keep.
“My children,” you began, gaze trained on Alicent with a murderous glint in your eyes. “Are not bastards. To insinuate that they are is treason.”
“That does not excuse what your children did to my son. He’s lost an eye over words!” Alicent cried, taking a few steps towards you. Harwin moved to stand in front of you as you pulled your children behind you.
The doors to the chamber creaked open once more as the King clambered into the room. He looked angry as he made his way towards his wife.
“What is the meaning of this?” He shouted, looking first to Alicent and then to you.
“Your grandchildren have attacked your son–" Alicent began, but you stepped out from behind Harwin.
“Your son called my children bastards–” you started with narrowed eyes, but Viserys interrupted you.
“Boys,” he spoke, taking a step towards your children. They peeked their heads out from behind you to see the King. “What happened?”
“Aemond took Vhagar, and he was insulting Rhaena and Baela, so I told him to stop but he said he would not listen to a bastard.” Your eldest spoke, and as soon as he finished, clamor rang throughout the room.
“Quiet!” Viserys roared. The room slowly quieted as the King moved towards Aemond.
“Aemond, I want no lies.” He told the boy as he stood in front of him. Aemond looked up at the king with his remaining eye, and it was then that you got a good look at what had happened.
You inhaled sharply at the sight of Aemond’s wound. You knew then that whatever your sons had done to Aemond had been what he deserved.
“I called them bastards,” the boy confirmed, eye glancing over the King’s shoulder towards your family. “And then the older one hit me.”
“See?” Alicent cried, a hand landing on her younger son’s shoulder. “You daughter and her family have no respect! Her children attacked your son and took his eye over words–” she began again, but you would not have it.
“Quite serious words,” you muttered, which caused Alicent to turn on you.
“Enough to maim my son? He has lost his eye! Your children only lost their pride–”
You surged forward, a few feet separating you from the Queen now. All eyes watched the two of you. Harwin made no move to intervene. Instead, he stood protectively in front of your children, a hand going back to keep them from moving forward.
“Perhaps he should lose his other,” you seethed, watching her. “You have constantly belittled my husband and I. You look down upon us, you slander us, and now you turn on my children?” Your voice was shaking with anger, your fists clenched at your sides.
“Viserys,” Alicent called to her husband. “Do you hear this? This is a clear threat to the life of your child!”
“I am also his child!” You shouted, taking another step towards her. Alicent’s eyes widened. “You so badly wish to play the victim, and I tire of it. My family and I have tried to stay out of your way, and still you always find a way to accuse us of something.”
Alicent laughed in disbelief. “I, the victim? Your sons are whole– they are fine. My son will never heal!” She glared at you for a moment before speaking again. “I shall have one of their eyes, as payment.”
“You will not.” You spoke firmly. You heard movement behind you as Rhaenyra and Daemon moved to surround your children in a little huddle. “Should you even try to lay a hand on my sons, you will lose the hand.”
“Another threat,” Alicent huffed in disbelief. “Viserys–”
The King, who had been standing to the side unsure of what to say, moved to stand between the two of you cautiously. He was torn between the pair of you– Alicent was his Queen, but you were his second daughter.
“I will hear no more of this,” Viserys said, unable to pick a side. “All children will be dealt with by their parents, after sincere apologies have been made.”
Alicent was hysterical now as she shook her head. “This is not justice!” She shouted, eyes flitting around the room in search of support. “I will take their eyes myself!” She moved forward then, and without a second’s thought, you acted.
You reached forward, hand wrapping around the dagger strapped to your father’s waist. You unsheathed it and held it up as Alicent raised her hands to you. Chaos erupted, voices yelling in surprise and children screaming, but you couldn’t hear any of it.
The roar of the room dimmed as you stared into Alicent’s eyes, your hands shaking with force as you tried to push the dagger towards her.
“I will kill you before you touch them,” you whispered to her, eyes wide with adrenaline as her hands locked around your wrists and tried to push you away.
“You have become someone I do not recognize.” She told you, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
“As have you. And now they will all know how you spin tales–”
“Enough!” Viserys shouted again, bringing you back to the present.
You shoved Alicent back then, dropping the dagger to the floor. She stumbled backwards as you stepped back, an arm wrapping around your shoulders. Harwin. You looked up at him and he gave you the smallest smile.
He had never seen you so fierce– so protective over the ones you loved. And he was proud to know that you would always stand up for your family, even against the Queen herself.
“This infighting must cease! We are Targaryens– I will have no more of this constant bickering!” Viserys was yelling, but you paid him no mind as Harwin steered you back to your children.
Rhaenyra and Daemon stepped aside as you pulled your boys into your sides, a hand on each of their shoulders, holding them tightly.
“Good job,” Rhaenyra whispered into your ear with the ghost of a grin. You nodded once in response.
People began filing out of the room, slowly but surely. With no more dramatics to keep them consumed, they began to feel the late hour. You refused to move as you watched them go, your hands clutched around your children. Harwin stood protectively in front of the three of you, watching the passersby like a hawk.
Rhaenyra and Daemon also stood by your side. Rhaenyra placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. Daemon said nothing, but the fact that he had remained spoke volumes. He was notorious for disappearing at the worst times.
You only moved when everyone else had left the room, including Alicent and her children. She had not even spared you a glance as she ushered her sons and daughter from the room.
With the room empty, Harwin relaxed his guard slightly. He turned to you and gave a small nod. “I believe we should get these boys back to bed.”
You nodded in reply, removing your hands from your children. Rhaenyra and Daemon bid you goodnight before they slipped from the chamber together.
Harwin placed a hand at the small of your back, gently guiding you to the door. Your children walked a pace in front of you, that way you could watch them at all times.
“You did well,” Harwin whispered to you, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear.
“I have certainly made us an enemy,” you deadpanned.
“They were already enemies,” Harwin assured you, his eyes flicking back to the boys. “Anyone who tries to harm them is an enemy.”
“I agree.” You told him.
You both fell silent for a moment as you gathered your thoughts. Although you had seemed brave standing up to the Queen in a room full of people– you were now terrified.
You had no clue what she would do or say about what had happened. She would certainly spin things so that you were the evil one. You wrung your hands in anxiety– not so much for yourself, but for your kids. Your husband. You would do anything for them.
“I think the boys should stay in our quarters tonight,” your voice was quiet as you spoke to your husband. Harwin nodded with no protests.
“Of course.”
The four of you made your way back to yours and Harwin’s quarters. The boys were ecstatic to sleep in such a big bed, and you couldn’t help but laugh as they went back to their childish ways. It was as if the events of the last hour hadn’t occurred.
When you finally got them to lay down, you could not sleep. You sat in a nearby lounge, your eyes trained on their sleeping figures. You feared what would happen if you looked away for even a second.
“My love,” Harwin spoke softly as to not rouse the children. He had been speaking to someone in the corridor�� a trusted guard, perhaps. When he reentered the room he came straight to you, crouching down to your side. “You must get some rest. Tomorrow will be long.”
You shook your head. “I do not trust her. What if she has something wicked planned?”
“She would not dare,” Harwin assured you. “Not tonight.”
You did not respond. Harwin sighed heavily, one of his hands reaching for your own. You allowed his touch, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.
“I have a trusted watchman stationed at our door. No harm will come.”
You still did not move.
“I will stand watch,” he finally said. You knew he didn’t mind standing watch, but of course he would prefer to sleep– you didn’t blame him.
But you couldn’t shake your fears, and so you nodded.
“Thank you, my love,” you told him, turning your head to face him. He smiled, and you leaned forward to press your lips to his.
It was a short but sweet kiss, and exhaustion crept over you when you pulled away. Harwin helped you up from the lounge and guided you to the bed. You stifled a laugh as he rolled one of the boys over, making room for you.
“Sleep well,” he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.
“I’ll make this up to you,” you told him. He grinned.
“I’m sure you will.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were thankful for his lightheartedness. He left to go sit on the lounge, and you closed your eyes, letting sleep finally take you.
#game of thrones#hotd fic#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon#game of thrones fic#harwin strong#harwin x reader#ser harwin#harwin breakbones#harwin breakbones strong#ser harwin strong x reader#harwin strong x reader#ser harwin strong#harwin strong fic#viserys targaryen#targaryen reader#targaryen!reader#rhaenyra targaryen#rhaenyra x daemon#alicent hightower#daemon targaryen#fanfic#one shot#harwin breakbones x reader
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
let me fill you up | Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader
ao3 | masterlist
Pairing: Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader
Summary: You, a Targaryen princess were married into the Lannister fold to ensure the alliance between the two houses, ensuring your eldest brother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Now, Lord Jaime makes your days filled with happiness and makes you eager to present him babies.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: rhaegar wins AU, no targcest, smuff, fluff, breeding kink, praising kink, a lot of pet names (sweet girl, princess, love), reader has no physical description besides the silvery white targaryen hair, creampie, oral (f receiving), a very devoted husband commited to your pleasure, smut, sex;
a/n: Happy new year! I had posted I wanted to write something like that and it's been a while since I want to write something other than holy and heathen because I must admit I'm not very satisfied with what I've been writing lately. Some validation kudos, comments and reblogs would be very important to me, seriously :') I’ve been thinking in turning this into a small series but I’m not so sure. Could you give me your thoughts on this too? please, enjoy your reading!
Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody
You are sitting surrounded by your maids and children on a breezy night, covered with a fur coat and a crimson silk dress under it. Attentively, you go stitch by stitch and slowly form a lion, sigil of your husband’s house. Ever since Robert’s Rebellion ended and your brother, King Rhaegar Targaryen won, you became promised to the former knight of the Kingsguard, now Lord Jaime Lannister. Life in the lion’s den was not difficult, once Lord Tywin treated her with the most kindness and Jaime was still coming out of his shell. At first, he was your sworn sword in King’s Landing and spent plenty of time together in an unbalanced relationship. Now, you two are sharing a bed after a tumultuous year of war and destruction, as equals. In the beginning, you were sceptical about marrying into the Lannister household, but as the months went by, you found yourself drowned at him. Jaime is careful, gentle and kind. He brings you a small dandelion every morning once he knows it reminds you of home.
His only quirk was the strange attachment to his sister, Lady Cersei. But after being sent to Dorne to marry Prince Oberyn of House Martell and getting distant from each other, your relationship with your husband seemed to finally thrive.
“It appears to be beautiful, my lady.” Said one of her maids, taking care of your youngest son, a small silvery blonde figure of two years of age.
“A bright lion handkerchief for Jaime to carry with him.” You reply, admiring your piece of work. “Do you believe your father will like it, sweetling?” You then ask your eldest daughter, an adorable child of four. Your daughter eagerly nods her head and wraps her hands around one of your fingers to pull the fabric closer to her eyes.
“Dada will love it, mama!” The little one exclaimed, spinning around with the kerchief on her tiny hands.
“What will I love, if I’m allowed to ask?” A tall, blonde figure shows up in your private bedchambers, wearing a classic Westerland attire with a crimson fabric and intricate strings of gold shaped into the sleeves and collar. You smile sweetly to Jaime as he approaches you and grabs your middle child to hold in his arms.
“Papa!” The blonde little girl runs towards her father to embrace his legs and your maids stand up to bow to their lord.
“Have you missed me, dear?” Jaime asked and the fussy children eagerly nodded at him, embracing their father even more. Sometimes, seeing Jaime being so loving and kind towards your children simply melted your heart. You felt the urgency to kiss him and dig your fingers onto his bright hair, begging him for another child. Your cunt ached in pleasure to the thought of Jaime pumping his seed inside of you. You were still young and could bear many more children.
“Mm-rrhm…” You scoffed. “I have missed you too, husband.”
The three children giggled and the child on his arms hid his face on the crook of Jaime’s neck. The eldest covered her laugh with her tiny hands and the youngest beamed along their siblings. Jaime came closer to you and caressed your cheeks with his free hand. Then, a single and gentle kiss he places over your forehead, making your heart flutters with love and passion.
“I have missed you too, my love.” Jaime said, passing his fingertips on your chin and smiling at you.
Your maids quickly stood up and bowed at their overlord as a sign of respect. “Excuse me, my lord, my lady,” Said the servant girl. “Let us take the children so you can rest.”
“But I want to stay with papa!” Said the elder daughter, pouting and crossing her arms. The other two children whined and complained along, but you lowered into their level whilst Jaime talked to the youngest on his arm.
“Sweetlings,” She said, caressing their cheeks. “Your father is rather tired after riding for so long. Go with her, I promise you, your siblings, me and your father will have plenty of time together on the morrow. Is that understood, my loves?”
“I can take you to ride a horse tomorrow and even let you eat lemon cakes before super. What do you think?” Jaime asked, delivering the fussy child from his arms to the other maid. In unison, the three infants agreed and left disappointed. Once you and your husband were alone in your bedchambers, Jaime smiled at you gallantly. You embrace him intimately and are finally able to feel the warmth of his muscular body and feel the softness of his golden hair. His lips reach yours and in a whirlwind of sensations, your cunt is already dripping in anticipation just by a simple touch coming from him. Once he breaks the kiss, he keeps holding you by your waist and gazing at you with admiration.
“You have been gone for too long, love.” You say, passing your fingertips on his lips. He smiles and gives you a peck on the lips before speaking.
“I had duties with your brother, Our Grace King Rhaegar, sweet girl.” Jaime replies, pulling her out gently and grabbing the fabric she embroidered for him.
“I hope you like it, I made it just for you.” You point out, joining your hands to follow him. He keeps smiling as he observes attentively the intricate work you did.
“I shall cherish it and take it wherever I go, dragon princess.” He replied, folding and putting the kerchief in one of his pockets. You giggle as you hear him calling you ‘dragon princess’, a custom he chose to never abandon as a form to remember the late days of their relationship “I wish I had more time to be around and play with the children, I have been missing them and you.”
“They made drawings every day and left it on your desk at your office.” You reply, walking to the window and being followed by him.
“I will make sure to have them guarded in our chambers. Safe as our gold.” He says, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck lightly. You beam in ecstasy feeling his body smother you into a comforting embrace and full missing him.
“Sometimes I still cannot believe we are wedded to each other. You were my sworn shield in King’s Landing!” You exclaim as his hand caresses your empty belly and it tingles by his touch. He grins at your words and says.
“Most people are not so lucky to know your spouse before the wedding day. I consider myself the most lucky man in the world because I could be in your acquaintance from so long ago.” He replies, falling his head on the crook of your neck.
You turn around to be face to face with Jaime, feeling the cold breeze of the rock hitting your back and giving you small shocks as Jaime caresses your back, making you experience a thermal shock and shudder to his touch.
“I feel very lucky to be your wife, Jaime. Most women are not so fortunate to have such a kind, loving and handsome husband.” You mutter as he strokes your hair, in awe with your beauty.
“I guess we are fortunate to be together after so many troubles in war. We even brought new lives into this world to paint a new, brightful history.” He replies, caressing your womb. You stare at his fingers passing up and down your belly and glances at him with a sweet smile.
“And we could have more, love. I must admit I feel empty for so long and I want to give you more children… I know I can give you an entire army of your own. Half lion, half dragon. Unstoppable creatures.”
“You feel empty, love?” He asks, smirking and you eagerly agree with him. “Then allow me to fill you up…” Jaime finished, slowly undoing the intricate laces of your dress to reveal your bare skin under the crimson fabric. In response, you open his attire slowly and little by little his white tunic appears to her eyes.
By this point, your cunt is already sore in anticipation for the moment about to happen and clenches around nothing once he pushes the last section of string holding your garment, releasing you from the pressure tightening your upper body. Jaime pushes down your dress and your underwear is now on display for him, which makes him bite his lip and eagerly take down your white camisole to show him your bare body. You moan as he squeezes your breast and pinches your nipples whilst kissing you. You quickly take off his own undershirt to show off his chest.
“So eager is my dragon princess.” He playfully says, leading you to bed and carefully laying you down. With devotion, he starts to kiss your feet, legs and knees, his hands roaming through your thighs and hips. “Spread your legs for me, little dragon.”
You part your legs, obeying his soft command. “So wet… I can see you truly missed me, my love.” He says, kissing your inner thighs as your body squirms in pleasure before he reaches your intimacy.
“Oh… I have missed you so much, my lion.” You moan your words as he kisses your groyne and passes his fingers lightly over your clit, making your womb tremble and convulse to his touch.
“I can see that, just as I missed you, my dragon princess. Do I have permission to give you a lord’s kiss?” He asks and you only nod in response, making Jaime wet his lips with his own saliva before diving into your dripping core and you to scream involuntarily as his tongue and lips eat you up with full desire. Jaime circles his tongue around your clit and roam around your entire intimacy, making your hips bounce onto his direction. It was his costume to make you come every time before he would be inside of you, now could not be different.
You feel your body explode as if someone threw you into dragon fire as Jaime relentlessly pleases you, making magic with his tongue. Skillfully, he explores your intimate area inch by inch with eagerness, making you dig your fingers on his golden curls, pulling him closer to your cunt and you contorses your body urging for more. Tears of pleasure fall off as you feel goosebumps once you realise you are close to your climax.
As the intensity builds, Jaime's movements become more deliberate, pushing you closer to the edge of bliss. Your breath hitches, and your fingers entwine in his golden locks, urging him on. The world narrows down to the pleasure he provides, the connection between you deepening with every passing moment.
When the climax finally crashes over you, Jaime doesn't relent. He continues to caress your sensitive core with his tongue, prolonging the sweet release. Your body shudders with pleasure, and you feel the bond between you and Jaime reaching new heights.
“Husband…” You try to stop him and give yourself some time to take a breath, but Jaime does not back off and part your legs once more, holding it as he keeps licking, kissing and sucking your pussy.
“No no, wife… let me please you and bring you to climax once more…” He cuts your words and gently goes back, but now he plays with his fingers on your clit, with far less pressure and slowly draws circles around it, taking soft moans from you. Jaime rises to hover over you, a wicked glint in his eyes. His fingers trace patterns on your flushed skin as he leans in for a heated kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips. “Taste yourself, love.”
And not so long after, you scream his name as you feel waves of pleasure hitting your body as a lightning bolt hits the ground in a storm. Your body is trembling and your legs seem to be two wooden sticks, barely able to stand.
“Please… inside of me, Jaime… I need you…” You plead with him, pulling his body to be on top of yours.
“Your wish is my command, princess.” He replies, kissing you passionately once more and positioning between your legs. Jaime's eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. The anticipation was hanging heavy in the air, your bodies aligned perfectly, and as he slowly entered you, a shared moan escaped both of your lips.
The sensation is electrifying, the culmination of the pleasure he bestowed upon you and the intimate connection between your bodies. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deepening the bond that exists only between you two.
“My perfect princess takes me so well…” He grows as thrusts into you going back and forth nonstop. You lock him by involving your legs around his waist and feeling his hard cock entering your cunt in full force, reaching your cervix and making you beg for more in his ear.
The room echoes with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies, creating a tapestry of love and passion.
“Put another babe on my belly Ser, please…” You beg him as moans leave your mouth and the sound of crashing bodies fill the room quickly.
“With pleasure, love…” He says once more. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deeper inside of your pussy in farfetched positions. He missed you too much after months away from you and it shows by the way he kisses you as he moves desperately to have more of mounting his dragon. The room echoes with the sounds of your shared passion, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies. As Jaime's movements become faster, the pleasure intensifies, and you find yourself on the verge of another climax. The pleasure is overwhelming, and your bodies move in perfect harmony.
With a final, fervent thrust, Jaime succumbs to the ecstasy and releases his seed deep inside of your womb, growling and grunting with relief and utter bliss. You hit your own orgasm as you feel the warm jets of his seed invading your walls and your body squirm and you scream his name, crying out.
Your bodies tremble in the aftermath, and he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is filled with a comforting silence as you both catch your breath. Jaime's fingers gently trace patterns on your skin as you bask in the warmth of the afterglow. “Do you think we created one more life for our household, love?” You ask him, laying your head on his chest. The world outside your chambers seems distant, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, lost in the serenity of each other's embrace.
“Depending on your fertile womb, my love, I have no doubts you are.” He replies, caressing your silvery white hair. “But we must endure in our pursuit on a daily routine. Just to make sure our fourth babe is on the way.” He playfully replies, smirking at you, who mischievously smiles back at him and kisses his lips, wiping some strings of sweat from his face.
Jaime presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a soothing murmur, "I love you, my dragon princess."
And you, wrapped in the arms of the man you love, whisper back, "And I love you, my lion shield."
#fanfic asoiaf#asoiaf fanfiction#ao3#game of thrones fanfiction#a song of ice and fire#house lannister#house targaryen#rhaegar targaryen#jaime lannister#jaime x reader#targaryen x lannister#targaryen oc#targaryen reader#jaime lannister fanfic#lannister#cersei lannister#tywin lannister#asoiaf fanfic#game of thrones fic#game of thrones smut
391 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello. First of all love your writing. <3
I have a request for you:
can you write a robb stark x reader maybe reader is a ward of the starks and the two have been engaged and best friends since childhood. Then the wedding comes and the reader is nervous and afraid of the wedding night
thank you
Robb Stark*Goodnight Dear Husband
Pairing: Robb Stark x f!reader
Word count: 1594
Warnings: insecurity, worrying about sex, (brief)motherhood, marriage
Masterlist here
you still remember the first night you spent at Winterfell. The day had been so fun. Catelyn gave you a tour of the castle, Ned let you try pick up his sword Ice which you could barely even lift the handle, Jon taught you how to sneak into the kitchens. You even remember meeting Robb.
He was a lanky boy, seven to your six. His knees were knobbly, and his curly hair could barely be controlled no matter how much his mother tried. Freckles scattered his cheeks and there was a shy smile on his chapped lips. “Welcome my lady,” he greeted with a shaky bow which was matched with your own wonky curtsey.
“I like your horse,” he said, pointing to the stuffed animal in your hand. A wide smile beamed onto your face at that, “Would you like to meet my horse? You can ride him if you’d like,” and within moments of arriving you were already fast friends. You didn’t even know you were to marry him yet.
The day was fun but tiring at that. there was a small feast of stew and honey cakes to welcome you however you were relieved to be shown to your room. It was only a corridor away from Robb’s and next to the young Sansa’s and Arya’s.
The bed practically consumed you as you clambered in, snuggling into the furs to try get away from the nipping cold. You watched as the candle flame began to waver just as a wolf howled. Your hands clutched the furs in fear before bravely reaching out to grab your horse.
But it wasn’t there.
You’d left it at the feast. How could you be so foolish? You gently began to sniffle, soft tears falling when you realised you were alone, and the light was nearly out, and you didn’t know where they kept the spare candles. Then there was a knock at the door.
You quickly jumped out of bed, running to the door encase your parents had come to tell you it was time to go home. Instead stood a boy with knobbly knees and unkempt curls holding a stuffed horse. “You forgot this. Were you crying?”
“No,” you sniffled, snatching the horse from his hands, “Its just dusty in here,” Robb nodded, biding goodnight and turning to leave when you grabbed his wrist, “Wait! I-I,” you stammered, “I don’t know where the candles are,” you mumbled.
Robb, no longer even slightly shy, strode into the room, fetching them from a drawer and quickly lighting more for you. “How’s that?”
“Perfect. And thank you,” you said, smiling softly at the boy, a yawn overcoming you again.
“Do you want me to tuck you in?” he offered as you began to clamber into bed, “Its what my mum does when I’m scared,”
“I’m not scared,” you pouted, pulling the covers over yourself, “You can. If you want to. Its up to you,” you said, silently hoping he would which he instantly did. Robb tucked you in, kissing your forehead before turning to leave, “Night Robbie,”
“Night, night,”
-
You were pacing your room so much you wondered if you might wear a hole in the stone floor. Your wedding dress was folded perfectly in a chest by the foot of your bed. There was a box on top of it with your families crest on a broach your parents had gifted you as well as a Stark amulet from Ned and Cat. It also had hair pins, carefully selected by Sansa from the market and a silver ring with a red stone from Robb.
Everything was as it was supposed to be. You were to marry Robb and officially become a Stark. Yet for some reason your corset felt so tight you could hardly breathe despite how lose it was. Your mind was running over drive as your pacing struggled to keep up.
There was a soft knock on the door. You rushed over, flinging it open despite the late hour, to be greeted by your soon to be husband, “Robbie,” you almost gasped, “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you,” he said, coming in without having to ask, “Who were you expecting?”
“No one,” you lied, biting your lip in the way that made Robb raise an eyebrow. “Jon said he’d sneak me some honey cakes after cook went to bed,”
Robb chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair off your face. “You look so pretty,” despite him saying it a hundred times you still felt the butterflies dancing in your stomach.
“You wanna come in?” you asked.
He didn’t need to be told twice and soon you were sat on your bed, your legs over his and your head on his shoulder. It was a peaceful silence. It should have been relaxing but soon your mind began to wonder.
You were to be married tomorrow. There was a gorgeous white dress waiting for you, jewels to match, a new name and title. You were going to move into Robb’s room, be his wife, his comfort, his relief. In all ways soon.
Despite loving Robb, a rarity in marriage, you couldn’t help being scared. Sure, he was attractive, stunning even, and its not like you hadn’t had thoughts about it before but suddenly the wedding night was dawning on you.
Its not like you didn’t want to have sex. From what you had done with Robb you knew it would be good. great even. Orgasmic hopefully. But the idea of it made you tense. Something Robb soon noticed.
“You, okay?” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.
“Yeah, just thinking,” you mumbled as you picked at your fingers, “Just you know. Wedding stuff,”
“You don’t sound too excited sweetheart,” he pouted, tightening his arms around you, “C’mon you can tell me,”
You sighed before moving to face him, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes were so filled with care you could drown in them. “Just worried about what comes next,”
“Kids?” he asked, eyebrows scrunched up.
“No! well now I am but still,” you sighed, closing your eyes so you could finally say the right words, “What if I’m not good at it?” you said, emphasizing the last word making a small oh come from his mouth. “I know it’s stupid- “
“It’s not stupid sweetheart,” he hushed, his hands moving to gently squeeze yours, “But trust me you’ll be good at it,” he chuckled.
“What if I don’t do it right?”
“We’ll figure it out,”
“What if I don’t like it?”
“Then we’ll stop,”
“What if you don’t think I look good?”
“That’s not physically possible,” he said, tilting your chin up with two fingers to give you a soft kiss with his cheeky smile. It quickly turned into a softer face, “Besides we don’t have to do it just because we can,”
You sighed, “I know you want too then,”
Robb shuffled, almost pulling away making you sit up. His shoulders deflated as he sighed, “Of course I want to love. But only if you do. I don’t want to have sex with some girl just because I can. I wanna be with you,” he said, taking your hands, “because I love you,” he managed to get a small smile out of you making him grin, “And because you’re sexy as fuck,”
“Shut up,” you laughed, smacking at his chest, “You can’t blame me for being worried,”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m nervous too,” he admitted making you laugh a little, “What?”
You shrugged, your eyes wandering over him, “Just never imagined you not all confident and suave. Besides you don’t need to be nervous. You’re perfect,” your hand moved to cup his jaw, your thumb running over his cheek bone.
Robb pulled your legs over his lap, pulling you into his side. “That’s how I feel about you. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen or whatever,” he rambled, taking your hands in his, “We’ll do it together and we’ll go slow. I never want to hurt you,”
“And I never wanna lose you,” you said squeezing his hands
“Good,” he said, leaning forward to kiss your lips gently, “Because you’re stuck with me,” you leaned in to return the kiss which started slow and gentle, but a shiver ran down your spine when his hand moved to rest on your hip. Your glorious make out was interrupted by a knock at the door.
It quickly opened just as you and Robb were pulling apart, “Gross,” Jon muttered as he closed the door behind him. “Also, sorry cook was up late tonight getting ready for the wedding,” he said as he handed you the wrapped goods, “speaking of. You.” He said, pointing a finger at Robb, “get to bed. I haven’t been covering for you two for you to get busted in her bed the night before so get,”
Robb sighed as he dragged himself away from you, giving one last peck before he had to go and before Jon would hit him. “And you,” Jon said as he now pointed his finger to you, “Get your beauty sleep. You need it,” he said with a tilted smile making Robb hit him and you laugh.
“Your one to talk now beat it. a lady needs her rest,”
“Uhuh,” Jon said, rolling his eyes but quickly wishing goodnight. He pretended not to notice Robb giving you a goodnight kiss and instead waited in the hall.
“I’ll see you tomorrow love wife even,” he grinned.
“Goodnight, dear husband,”
“Goodnight sweet wife,”
Taglist Sign Up Here
General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @perla434 @selenestar78 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @urfavnoirette @randomstory56 @qardasngan @https-luvvia @im-the-fucking-lunar-prince @bryandechartisasmolbean @glorywielder101
Game of thrones taglist: @mysunflowerspace @xyinparadise @nyotamalfoy @asgards-princess-of-mischief @sashadevil766 @lonely-girl2423 @3lisia @cookielovesbook-akie
Robb Stark taglist: @kimm4710
#robb stark#robb stark x reader#robb stark imagine#robb stark fic#game of thrones#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones fic#got x reader#got imagine#asoiaf#asoiaf x reader#asoiaf imagine
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jaime Lannister x Fem!Reader Hcs
Fueling my Nikolaj and GOT brainrot~ enjoy
NSFW and SFW -
1. Man protects you like a dawg. He will not have anyone touch you or get too close without drawing his sword the second they take a step closer (Not even your parents).
2. Jaime loves having sex the second you both are alone, he just can’t help it. A quickie in the meeting room, in his chamber, after shower. He loves it when he stands tall and you’re on your knees sucking him off as a to thank him for protecting you.
3. Jaime loves carrying you over his shoulder. He’s strong, and you’re his. In the palace he will subtly tease you by carrying you over his shoulder to your room.
4. Jaime loves restraining you, he will tackle you down, pinning your hands above your head. He likes to be in charge, and fuck you to relieve his stress from the long day of managing Cersei.
5. Jaime would like to have children with you, and possibly favour them over Joffrey. As they are his to claim to the public, and he can love them freely also protect and raise them.
6. Jaime likes being just a boy around you. No pressures to fight or decisions. He likes teasing, making jokes and possibly be obsessed with building blocks which makes you look at him sometimes think, how at the core hes just. a. guy.
7. When you watch him fight or be an exceptional swordsman you want him to fight you similarly but in the bedroom, without his clothes on and definitely with a different sword of his. You could testify Jaime was skilled with his other not so miniature sword as well.
8. Cersei would love bullying you, in order to push you away from her beloved brother. Jaime wouldnt never rage at her, but would protect you from all her evil schemes and will never let anyone or anything harm you. They will have to face him before you.
9. Jaime takes off his metal hand and stares at where his wrist used to be sometimes, but he will only show such level of sadness and vulnerability in front of you.
10. Jaime loves pounding you with your legs over his shoulders, he loves to watch your breasts bounce bringing him closer to the edge faster.
Your twin,
Admin Sav
#jaime lannister x you#jaime lannister x reader#jaime lannister#jaime lannister x y/n#jaime lannister imagine#jaime lannister fanfiction#jamie lannister#jamie lannister x reader#jamie lannister x you#jamie lannister x y/n#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones fic#game of thrones#game of thrones fanfic#jaime oneshot#a song of ice and fire#george martin#aerys targaryen
390 notes
·
View notes
Text
ONLY YOU - JON SNOW
Summary: After being accused of wanting another woman instead of you, he makes it his mission to let you know that he wants you…and only you.
Warnings: This is all over the place but it makes sense in my head :D. Completely made up the last name for the sake of the fic. Now for real warnings - One (1) quickie, unprotected sex (be smart y’all), vaginal penetration, fingering, oral (female receiving), face-sitting., love-making ig, overstimulation, basically porn, very light touch of breeding, one (1) use of the word ‘whore’, marriage (yes that is a fucking warning but it’s not that complicated in this fic), feelings (ew), mild language, cheating accusations, mentions of not being able to conceive, one (1) very brief mention of Jon crying (yes this is also a warning)
A/N: Hello my darlings! My laptop is still being repaired so please bear with my shitty typing as well as possible typos. I just recently started watching GOT and I HAD to jump on the opportunity the second I laid my eyes on Jon…… considering that I’m only a few episodes in, I did not follow anything too canon considering that I don’t want the details to be too off.
Word count: 4.2k+ (this is the most I’ve written in forever LMAO)
not my gif!
Daenerys Targaryen. The most wanted woman of all in any of the kingdoms. She was undoubtedly envied by many, you included. You were a very close runner-up, but it didn’t help much considering your family’s constant comparisons between you and the younger girl.
You were nearing twenty-one and you had yet to be set for marriage, your parents frowning upon the idea that you wanted different things in life. Sure it might be nice to carry on your family’s legacy and become the heir, being their oldest of seven girls, but it wouldn’t be all that nice when you’d get threatened by others to give up your title as queen.
You’d met Jon when your parents had gone over to the Stark residence for a ceremonial dinner. He’d been out front, swording away at a dummy. You removed the flask from the garter that sat under your dress, sipping the bitter whiskey. You’d leaned yourself up against the wall, eyeing the dark-haired alpha as he blabbered away to his uncle Benjen.
He stole several glances, his tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek when he realized your gown parted more and more to allow some air under the fabric.
“I shall go with you when you leave, Uncle Benjen. My father will say yes - ask him!”
Trying your best to not eavesdrop much more, you began to wander off. His uncle couldn’t stop the perverse words that fell from his tongue. You glanced over your shoulder, shooting the older male a wink, careful as to not show too much of your face as he’d only seen your silhouette. He took off, heading into the castle to rejoice with his brother and several lords, leaving you in the presence of the young man.
“Tisn’t quite the scene for a lady. You should be inside with everyone else.”
“Nor is it the scene for the son of a lor-“
“Lady Stark requested that I didn’t join them for the dinner.”
“Oh, right. Jon Snow, is it? The bastard?”
You finally turned to face him, his eyes widening in their sockets.
“Honorable Y/N Burke. You shan’t be in the presence of an unwed man, young lady.”
“There are many things that I ‘shan’t’ do,” you mimicked air quotes. “But, you’ll find very soon, bastard, that I don’t care much about the things that I shan’t do.”
He eyed you for a moment longer, his sword firm at his side. You had yet to conceal your flask, offering him a sip before taking one of your own.
You watched as his eyes glanced over the way your lips encircled the opening, a drop of the liquid dribbling down the side of your mouth before your finger swiped at it, sucking the digit into your mouth.
Then he lost it.
He pounced on you in just a matter of seconds, groaning as your tongue mingled with his. The exchange of tastes - the whiskey warm with a mix of whatever sweetness you’d treated yourself to beforehand, and his bare whiskey. You could almost taste his musk but it must’ve only been the way his scent overstimulated each of your senses.
His hands, which had made themselves up to your face, dropped to your waist, pulling your lower halves together as he felt up on your body.
“Goodness- we can’t get caught, Snow.”
Your breath picked up into heavy pants, his fingers dipping into your undergarments as he swallowed all of your moans.
“Just be quiet, darling, and they won’t know a thing.”
He teased your clit with a grin plastered to his face. He yanked your underpants down, mimicking the move with his own clothing.
“Jon-“
“Sh, sweetheart-“
He hoisted you into his arms, not hesitating to plow himself into you. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to fight each moan from leaving your mouth. A high-pitched squeal sounded from your throat as his hand accompanied his rather vulgar pace.
“Fuck-“
“Remember what I told you, sweetheart,” he grunted into your ear.
His arm circled itself around your waist, stabilizing your squirming figure. His head tipped back, a groan sounding from his throat before his forehead met yours.
“Jon, fu-“
Before you could finish your statement, you felt the pulsating of his cock, his seed dribbling down your legs. He fucked you through his high, dropping his thumb to your cunt so you’d finally come around his cock. Your body shuddered as your climax hit you, your hands clutching onto him for dear life.
He pulled his garments back up once he’d placed you on the makeshift railing. You remained silent for just a bit longer until you broke said silence.
“Look, Jon- Lord…Snow, I’ve heard of your desire to leave this land and become a Night Watcher. I just….”
For once you had not much to say despite wanting to spew so much out.
“I know of your oath and the things you must accede to.”
“What are you getting at, Hon Burke?”
“If…if I am to carry your child, and I know the chances are slim because it’s only been once-“
“As you said, it’s only been one time. Don’t speak nonsense. This never happened. Are we clear?”
“But-“
He turned to you, helping you redress yourself with a sigh. He couldn’t miss the way your demeanor faltered just a tad, his own softening drastically.
“It’d be in both of our best interests to pretend that this never happened, sweetheart.”
And so you did as he said.
Despite wanting oh so badly to miss your menstrual cycle that month, it’d worked out for the best - you’d told yourself. You’d only known the lad for a few minutes tops but he remained on your mind for years following.
Upon his leave, you were devastated. Watching with teary eyes as the man you knew you wanted so much more with was leaving. Your mother watched as you quickly wiped a tear from under your eye, sniffling quietly.
Two years down the line, it was nearly impossible to avoid the fact that you’d have to step up and become queen rather soon.
“Mother, I am not stepping into that role until I get a proper proposal!”
“You’re too picky, Y/N! We’ve been waiting - for years, we’ve been waiting. You’ve gotten thirty proposals, all of which you’d turned down for the darndest reasons!”
“I’m not picky! I am awaiting someone that will settle for more than what the stupidity of this society offers. My king-“
“Has arrived.”
That voice. His voice.
Immediate tears were brought to your eyes as you found Jon standing in your doorway.
“J- Sir Jon Snow. Am I dreaming?”
“No, m’lady. ‘Tis truly I.”
You resisted every fiber in your body that urged you to jump into his arms and snog him right in front of your mother.
“Lady Burke,” he bowed.
Your mother offered a tight-lipped smile before leaving the pair of you to catch up.
“I didn’t think I’d see you for another ten years.”
Your smaller arms pulled his body into yours, embracing his warmth despite his cool armor.
“Jon,” you hummed, nuzzling yourself further into him.
“Y/N,” he copied your actions, smoothing his hand over your hair. “I couldn’t do without you for much longer.”
“Really? That’s hard to believe considering how quick you left after fucking me,” you quipped.
“I’m sorry, darling. I truly am.”
You met his lips in a soft kiss, your fists clenching around his coat.
“How’ve you been holding up?”
“I’ve just been dandy.”
Lies.
“Sort of glad I didn't have your child.”
Lies.
“Tried to get back out there after you left.”
Lies.
His arm tightened around you at the last of your statements.
“Tell me, Hon. Am I marrying a whore?”
“‘Marrying a whore’?” you were flabbergasted. “One - never call me a whore again. Two - who said we are to be wed?”
“Me.”
The simplicity of his statement baffled your mind.
“You? My father would never let me-“
“Marry a bastard. But, darling, as I remember, you’d told me something two years ago. You don’t care about the things you shan’t do and that shall include claiming me to be your king.”
“Well, why do you wait, my lord?”
He held you tight to his chest with his pupils blown.
“Tell me you’ll be mine, sweetheart. This is my proposal to you. We shall leave this land and rule our own kingdom together.”
“I do accept your proposal, my dearest, but I believe it isn’t that easy.”
“Nothing is easy, especially this. If your father is to deny our marriage and your leave, we shall go nonetheless.”
You grinned up at him, shaking your head as you laid your head on his chest.
“Then I shall marry you, my king.”
As expected, your parents didn’t have the merriest of a reaction when it came to notifying them of your leave with the man who’d notoriously been known to be a bastard. They were disappointed you wouldn’t be running their kingdom but they were relieved to see that you were finally off to be married. They hesitantly approved of the young man’s proposal, sending you off with him.
On your ride to your new castle, miles from your parents’ kingdom, you couldn’t help but question your husband-to-be.
“Why did you leave?”
He eyed you.
“The Night Watch. Why did you leave, Jon?”
“I know my status as a bastard would’ve done me well over there but I couldn’t take it. Being away from you, my family. It was eating at me day and night.”
“Then…why’d it take you two years to come back?”
“I didn’t know how to tell them I’d be leaving. It took me a long time to muster up the courage for that.”
You allowed yourself to remain silent until he placed a hand on top of yours.
“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I regret ever setting myself up to be away for the rest of my life, but now I’ve got you and that’s all that I need.”
“You sure have a way with words, don’t you?”
His lip quirked into a gentle smile, his hand squeezing yours with tenderness.
In just a couple of weeks, you were settled into your new home with your husband. It was now time to host several dinners and welcome all to your land. You were beyond ecstatic but it wasn’t until the guests actually arrived that you became wary of those around you.
Daenerys had made quite the entrance into your home, every one entirely forgetting that you existed for a moment. The Khal trailed behind her, offering head nods to those that personally greeted him.
Your heart stammered in your chest beyond your control. You isolated yourself from the crowd, tears cascading down your cheeks as your breathing grew jagged.
Your husband seemed to be infatuated with the platinum blonde-haired girl. You couldn’t blame him but it was killing you. He hadn’t torn his eyes from her, nor did she. She seemed to eye Jon for a bit too long, keeping great eye contact with him as she bowed.
“No need for that,” he chuckled, greeting Drogo with a firm handshake.
He waited for you to greet the couple, not sparing a glance at your seat until he hadn’t heard your voice whatsoever.
“Y/N?”
Chatting and eating resumed, Jon’s leg bouncing anxiously. He watched like a hawk, eyes wandering about the crowd.
“Lord Snow, I don't think Lady Snow is feeling all that well.”
Upon hearing your name, you wiped the last of your tears, seating yourself at your husband's side yet again.
“Darling, what’s the matter?”
He held your face in his palm, eyebrows furrowing at your puffy and reddened eyes.
“Nothing, my lord.”
You spoke the words with such harshness that it pierced his heart.
“What-“
“Ah, Lord and Lady Snow! Why don’t you make a toast?”
“I don’t think-“
“Of course, Benjen. We shall give a toast!”
You stood with your goblet, Jon staring at you with confusion clear in his features before standing on his own two feet.
“Thank you all for coming tonight. Lord Snow and I are delighted to be sharing such a special moment with you all. We wouldn’t have wanted it to be spent any other way. Jon?”
He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on you as he spoke.
“I’m sure I’m supposed to be thanking you lot but if it weren’t for my beautiful wife here, I wouldn’t be standing in front of you and for that, I thank her. I thank her for trying to understand me, for being the greatest human on earth, and for standing by my side regardless of what. I’ve known the shame of being a bastard for my whole life but she’s willing to bear the embarrassment of being wedded to me.”
His speech went on and on and on. It didn’t seem to end but your heart fluttered at his words. He grasped onto your hand when you turned away from him, your eyes catching Daenerys’. You shook those pestering thoughts from your mind, repeating ‘stop it, stop it, stop it’ over and over in your head.
That had only been the first of many instances, though.
You were distraught. It’d been months since you and Jon were lawfully wedded yet it seemed as if you couldn’t conceive. Your parents were applying pressure, sending ravens to your kingdom every day after, asking when you’d bear children.
After a dinner you’d put together at your castle, you lost it. Jon had spent nearly three hours lingering near the Khal and his Khaleesi. For only two minutes, he held you at his side while conversing with the couple. You’d shimmied yourself from his arms, entertaining the younger Stark children.
Robb had witnessed the way in which you embraced your inner child, chasing the kids around as they screamed their heads off. You shooed them away with a motion of your hand. With a hand on your hip, you watched them run off, your heart aching at the thought of never having children.
“Any luck yet, m’lady?”
Robb chuckled as you flinched in the slightest.
“My goodness, Robb. No, no luck yet. However, we already have names picked out, as well as runner-ups for godparents.”
“Oh really?”
You playfully rolled your eyes, spinning to face the brunette.
“If you’re so desperate to hear it, then yes, you are a candidate for our children’s godfather.”
He took your hand into his, landing a kiss on your knuckles as you giggled endlessly.
“I knew you always loved me,” he dramatically expressed.
You raised a brow, badgering him, “Say that with caution, Stark.”
“Or what? Lord Snow will behead me?”
“I might.”
The older boy wrapped his arm around his brother’s neck in a cub-like embrace.
“Goodness, Jon. Leave your brother be,” you scolded him, watching as his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.
The dinner was called to an end rather soon, but a few of your guests straggled about - Khaleesi Daenerys amongst the few. Your eyes were like daggers as you watched Jon converse with the younger girl. You were drawn from your thoughts the moment Robb placed his hand on your shoulder.
“Now, Y/N, I am well aware that you think my brother is mad over this woman - or at the least, having an affair with her. But I can assure you, nothing of that sort is happening at all. He’s only trying to make am-“
“I’d like to hear that from him, Robb. If he’s just trying to make amends with the Khal and everyone then that’s on me. But it doesn’t help that the Khaleesi is that fucking gorgeous. She has these big doe eyes that scream ‘help me’ or ‘fuck me’! I don’t know which one it is but I’m afraid that Jon will play the hero and be the one that fulfills any of her needs.”
You were seething in the corner with Robb at your hip. He tried assuring you repeatedly but you were quite a stubborn queen.
After everyone had left for good, you wasted no time in heading straight to bed. You wanted to avoid Jon to the best of your ability but you simply couldn’t outdo the king. Before you could step foot out of your bedroom with your things in hand, Jon stepped in front of you. He backed you into the room, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he shut the door.
“What’s your problem?”
You tried to not break under his intense gaze, your eyes bouncing from his own to everywhere in the room.
“What is your issue, Y/N?”
His voice was too quiet for your comfort.
“Are you…having an affair with Daenerys, Jon?”
The words that left your mouth sent a genuine fit of laughter racking through his body.
“Are you being serious?”
“Answer the question.”
His laughter died down, his body gravitating towards yours.
“Of course, I’m not having an affair with Daenerys. What makes you ask this?”
“The way you look at her kills me, Jon. When she’s here, it feels like I don’t exist! Why do you think I disappear for hours on end- you know what - you don’t even realize that I’m gone because you’re too immersed in your interactions with her! It’s-“
His hands found themselves on either side of your face, forcing you to look at him, though gently.
“If I was having an affair with Daenerys or anyone else, do you think that I’d be in the same bed as you every single night? All of those things I said about you months ago were nothing but true. You were probably too busy being upset with me to hear most of it but I don’t want anyone else. I want you and only you.”
“Then why do you look at her the way that you do? There’s so much compassion and-“
“I look at her that way because I feel bad for her! She talks to me because she feels as if she can’t trust anyone else, not even her own brother. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel less important. You’re the most important person, the most important thing in this world. I care for Daenerys’ well-being but I don’t care about her the way I care about you. I love you and I know I don’t say it enough but I do!”
He panted as he read your face.
“So you’re not cheating on me?”
“No, and I never will! I only want you, Y/N Snow. Only you.”
His lips met yours, your shoulders falling as relief washed over you. You allowed your hands to get lost in his hair, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as your lips moved in tandem.
“Tell me you love me.”
You hadn’t noticed the few tears that stained his cheeks until he spoke against your lips, your heart aching in your chest.
“Jon, my darling, I love you more than you will ever know.”
His arms tightened around you, lifting you from the ground as he pecked your skin.
“It seems as though I have to make up to you for the rest of my life,” he chuckled against your skin.
“Sweetheart, you loving me alone is enough of an apology.”
He laid you gently on the bed, undoing your bodice in an impressive amount of time. He held back no longer, suckling on the skin that was graciously presented to him.
“Jon,” you hummed.
He imitated your actions, putting a ministration to his movement once he’d reached your underpants. After kissing, biting, sucking on your skin, his lips were red and plump. They met yours again, the taste of whatever wine you’d been drinking just hours prior still lingering on your tongue.
He worked his hands into the sides of your underpants before pushing them down your legs. You whimpered against his tongue as his fingers stimulated your clit.
“Darling,” you gasped out, his fingers dipping in and out of your cunt.
He used a leg to pry yours apart, reveling in your angelic sounds. He propped himself up on his other arm, hand holding his head. With your hands tugging at his clothing, you pulled him in even closer.
His face disappeared into the nape of your neck. The way in which he breathed against your neck caused your skin to crawl.
His nose nudged at your jawline, a dumbstruck grin taking over his features once he felt your walls pulsating around his digits. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the next words that flew from his mouth.
“Lannister had told me he imagined you sitting on his face long before my proposal. I nearly slayed the son of a bitch until I realized you weren’t mine then. Why don’t you come on my face, sweetheart?”
“W-what?” You stammered out - half shocked at the proposition and half processing the fact that he was still fucking you with his fingers.
“My pretty girl doesn’t want to sit on my face?”
He jutted out his bottom lip, on which you pressed a kiss, uttering an ‘I do’. Your legs squirmed a bit more until you came. Your back arched off the mattress as you gasped and cried out. He slid his fingers into his mouth, his eyes locked on your blissful features.
“You taste heavenly,” he murmured, wiping his saliva-slicked fingers off on his bottoms.
His words made your cheeks heat up, using whatever strength you had to push yourself onto your knees.
“Are you sure about this, Jon?”
“A million times over - yes, I’m sure about this.”
He laid himself down, your legs trembling as your cunt hovered over his face. He brought you down in seconds, not being able to resist the temptation.
His tongue expertly worked your cunt as it’d done several times before. Sitting on his face, however, brought a new sense of pleasure to you - his nose bumping your clit every so often as the entirety of your cunt grew soaked. The mix of his saliva and your release sent you spiraling once more, the core in your lower half tightening before you could say anything.
His tongue softly fucked your desperate hole, a glass-shattering moan sounding from within. You couldn’t hold back any of it. You needed to let the whole damn castle know that your king was treating you right.
“Jon!”
One hand dropped to his hair, the other fondling your breast. Your eyes dropped to his, your body giving out at the sight of his disheveled hair and his eyes just begging for your come.
Your body shook gently as you came in his mouth, eyes screwing shut once your head had lolled back. You’d lifted yourself off to the side, your husband chuckling at your already fucked-out state.
“How was that?”
His fingers traced patterns on your skin as you came down from one of your many highs for the night.
“Fuckin’ amazing,” you breathed out, your arms reaching for him once he’d brought himself to his knees.
You watched as he undid his bottoms. The intense eye contact he held with you was a telltale sign that you needed to help him out of his clothes before he exploded.
“I won’t be rough tonight,” he whispered.
You bit your lip, feeling the burn of his gaze on your face as you undid the buttons of his shirt. Your insides grew fuzzy, becoming giddy at the fact that this was truly your husband. No one, nothing could ever take him away from you.
He stood nude before you, pressing his back to the headboard before patting his lap. You climbed onto him in a matter of seconds, your hands already stabilizing themselves on his shoulders. Your knees bent at either hip, legs akimbo to appease his girth. You pumped him a few times, running his tip up and down your fold before sinking onto him with a cry.
“Has it been long, my darling?”
You nodded, offering an airy chuckle as you struggled to take all of him.
“Gods, I’m beyond s-“
You hushed him with a kiss on the lips, your hips beginning to rock back and forth once you’d hit his base. His hands fell to your behind, your back arching as he hit that spongy spot inside of you. His name left your mouth like a mantra, chants of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ following right after. Your mouths found one another in a slobbery mess, a clash of teeth and tongue as the rutting of your hips became more desperate.
“Stop apologizing, my lord. I- holy shit, I love you,” you choked out.
“I love you, sweet girl.”
His forearms held onto your waist, using this as leverage to thrust himself further into you.
The pace of his hips, the words exchanged, the looks on both of your faces. Just outside your door, guards exchanged knowing glances, clearing their throats at the sounds that came from the both of you. They seemingly grew louder, Jon taking the opportunity to let the words flow from his mouth - “I shall put a baby in you tonight.”
And so the night proceeded. Jon didn’t let up until you physically couldn’t go for another round, making sure none of his seed left your womb.
It was a relief to know that your king, your lord, your love wanted you and only you.
Join my taglist here!!
Old miscellaneous taglist (dm for removal): @ronbrokemyheart @quxxnxfhxll @eunoia-kth @siriuslyslyslytherin @dracomalfoys-wh0re @rudypankowisdaddy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @i-love-scott-mccall @justreadingficsdontmindme @sprucewoodlover @iwannabekilledtwice @daydreamin-lol @analove26 @ravenhood2792 @spiderdrive27 @photocoz @lunar-writing
#jon snow#jon snow smut#jon snow imagine#jon snow imagines#jon snow x reader#jon snow x you#jon snow x y/n#jon snow x self insert#jon snow x female reader#jon snow game of thrones#jon snow fic#jon snow fanfic#game of thrones#game of thrones smut#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones imagines#game of thrones fic#game of thrones fanfiction
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog
+:✿ Chapter - 1 ✿:+ New Pretty Cage
next chapter
Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.
CW: slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of animal death, alcohol consumption, mention of infant death, mention of parent(s) death, loras being very lgbtq , mention of arranged marriage.
Leaving the Eyrie at first was exciting. You hated to admit it, you screamed at your father for even suggesting it, you cried like a child, but it was. The Eyrie was hardly a home, It was cold, isolated, and a constant reminder of what you’d lost. Kings Landing was warm, crowded, and offered a future outside of living in the past.
Your father, Jon Arryn, was more than optimistic that you would find a suitor worthy of your name. Your aunt and now step mother, Lysa Arryn was elated at the opportunity of ridding her and Robin’s lives of you.
After the death of your mother, Aemma of house Tully, your father married her sister, your aunt. You could have stomached it, you could have even forgiven it, if it weren’t for the fact your mother died during her labors of childbirth.
As you and your father rode in the carriage, your mind couldn’t help but think of it. You’d spent your mothers entire pregnancy hoping she’d bear a son. You even prayed, prayed to the seven Gods whom you didn’t even believe in. You had hoped if the child was a boy, you wouldn’t have to be wed off to the best house name possible.
What's worse, not only did the labors kill your mother, but it also killed your brother. You’d prayed for a brother and the Gods gave you a brother. But they took him away and your mother with him.
You had spent days sulking, wallowing in grief. Unbeknownst to you, all the while your father was arranging his own marriage with Lysa. A son followed behind soon, Robin, the brat. You hated him, even if you were the same blood.
“We approach,” your father said under his breath. It was enough to bring you back to reality.
“How long will I be here?” You asked, knowing the answer. Your father shot you a look with a furrowed brow, as if to say, “You already know.” You nodded as your concerned gaze turned to a glare as you looked out the carriage into the city. You lost your sweetness after your mother died, you were in no rush to get it back.
“Who am I to wed?” You asked flatly, your stoic expression and eyes filled with venom shot outside of the carriage and away from your father.
He sighed and looked upon you softly. “The Baratheon boys are eligible I suppose,” before he could finish you began. “Blondes, I have a distaste for blonde men.” You say as you rest your chin on your fist, still staring outside of the carriage. Your father let out a sigh about to lecture you on the importance of uniting families and the unimportance of such trivial things like personal happiness. But you cut him off, you look at him with eyes filled with venom, “I know you’ve a plan. You don’t go into anything blind.” he let out a small huff of a laugh as you arrived at the impressive castle. Your eyes did move from your fathers however. “You are just like your mother. Filled with angry eyes and hard questions.” Your eyes narrowed a bit, as the door to the carriage opened.
“Welcome Lord Arryn, welcome Lady (Y/N)”
Later that evening, you met the Lannisters and Baratheons over dinner.
You took note of the “Baratheon boys” your father mentioned. Sons of the King. From all those story books you'd read as a girl you would have thought that Princes’s would be handsome, kind, gentle, and brave. However you weren’t a naive child anymore. So the scrawny and boyish looking Joffrey didn’t surprise you, but did disappoint you. And Tommen was boyish too however Tommen was just that, a boy, a child. You found yourself praying again, praying you wouldn’t be subjected to an arranged marriage between either of them.
The dinner was mostly spent with your father and Robbert yammering, and occasionally people needing to remind you that you were being spoken to.
It was strange, on one hand you were excited to be out of the isolation of the Eyrie, on the other hand you couldn’t care less about the people around you. That was until the royal family's guard stepped into the room. The man was giant, standing at least 6 '6, his shoulders were so broad he had to step into a room at an angle. You felt your eyes linger on the figure just a second too long. Reverting it back to your hands in your lap.
You felt her cheeks blush, you felt yourself get embarrassed by this. But the thing is you’ve never seen a man like that. You never saw a man that big, a man that broad, ever. The Eyrie was secluded and maybe men from the vale were just shorter. Maybe this was a southern thing. Before you could roll the thought around your brain for long, the hulking figure walked to the opposite side of the room, it was only then when you noticed his face lit by the candle lights.You saw the left side of his face first. His face was masculine, there was nothing about his appearance that was feminine. As you analyzed his face, he turned it towards you which is when you saw the opposite of his face. It was horribly scarred, all the hair on his face was burnt off and ribboned in scarred tissue.
It was beautiful. You’d never seen anything like it.
You didn’t break your gaze as it was intertwined with the giant in the room. His deep brown eyes seemed somewhat confused with something about you. You felt the blush returning to your cheeks and nose as you studied him. You only broke your improper gaze once you felt the dread you feel everytime your fathers gaze comes towards you. You were able to look away before he noticed. He grabbed ahold of your hand and shot you a half hearted smile hoping your sour mood would magically improve with this minimal affection. However the daggers in your eyes did not surrender.
You spent the following days walking around the castle, hoping for another glimpse at the man everyone feared so terribly. You asked your father about him, “He’s the royal family's dog, both the Cleganes are. They are not the kind of people I wish for you to be around.” You rolled your eyes, but the information you got from anyone else was no better. His monstrous and vile actions. His temper is so fierce he’d kill anyone without a second thought. But when you saw his eyes, those deep brown eyes, they weren’t mean or angry they were sad. They were scared.
Days in this shit city were long, and often just as boring as the days in the Eyrie. Only instead of a shivering cold there was a sticky warmth. Instead of Lysa and Robin there was Cersei and Joffrey. At least Robin didn’t kill little creatures and beat girls for fun.
There were some advantages to living here however. There were more books, more food, more drinks, more dresses, more music. Living so high in the mountain such luxuries were sparse. Luxuries like friends, of which you felt you gained a few. The Tyrells for example were the only people you felt you could be truly honest with. Specifically Loras, there was a sense of vulnerability you two shared with each other. Both of you are unhappy with the prospect of marriage, arranged specifically. You remember the time he confessed to you that he was in love with a man. You walked through the garden together, those times became special. The only times when you and he could speak plainly. You always thought of how lovely it would be to have a friend, someone to trust solely. You always thought it would be a woman but you couldn’t complain.
You held onto his hands as he confessed. He said he wished he could change, to not be what he was.
“Never,” You held onto his hands tighter “Never wish for such things. Change even a single thing of you and you aren’t you. And you are my friend, my dearest friend.” You whispered, he embraced you tightly. You however had a slight growing distaste for Renly, a man who brought such tears to your friend.
To anyone secretly observing, it was courting. To you and he, it was friendship. In its purest way.
Maybe your father was true to his promise, he’d find you a man whom you’d love, a man who was brave and gentle. Only this love was different. As he was the only person you could trust.
The two of you thought of a plan for you and the wedding of one another. It was a good plan, the two of you would be bound by love and respect of which you both shared for the other. And the two of you would be free to find romantic, and sexual love freely. Loras teased you’d be able to fuck all the KingsGaurd if The Hound did not please you. It made you giggle but blush in embarrassment like a little girl.
Honestly you and he would have had the most healthy relationship of all the realm, and the only difference would be the two of you never consummated. But who would need to know?
You almost went through with it after the death of your father. If it weren’t for the fact Cersei forced her company upon you so much, you could have ran to the nearest septon and made your marriage official. But Cersei never left you alone, you were either with her, or one of her ladies. And, and you hated to admit it, you’d miss those butterflies in your belly anytime you caught The Hounds gaze. It makes your cheek red and your belly burn. And you loved it, it might have been the only reason you could have lived during those days. You spent anytime you got alone with Loras talking about The Hound, a topic he grew bored of quickly. So you also spoke of your marriage.
However these plans changed at the arrival of your cousin Sansa. Upon her arrival you saw a girl who would never handle the city she was stepping into with such naive big eyes and fairy tale fantasies of her future. You agreed with Olenna that Loras should attempt to court Sansa prior to her wedding with Joffrey, one last attempt at her freedom. You began to care less and less of your own.
Selfless yes, but stupid.
During the tournament you sat beside Sansa, and her father Nedd Stark who had such an affinity to your father apparently it was transferred to you now that he was dead and gone. She begged her father to stop the tournament. You wanted to roll your eyes at it, but you also wished someone would stop it as well. The Mountain, Gregor Clegane, scared you. He was different from his brother. The Hound was almost as big but he had a stoic and sad nature to him, even though everyone told you to beware. The brother you feared was Gregor, he was unstable, rabid, and frightened you to no end. You’d hoped your plan of him using your mare, who was in heat, would work.
It was a trick, but a good one, if it worked. And it did, it upsets and confuses Gregor's mount. Gregor was thrown off his horse. You felt a wave of relief as Sansa stood and cheered. What you didn’t account for was Gregor's reaction. Gregor, absolutely furious, decapitated his own horse. You, still seated, grabbed ahold of Sansa’s arm as Gregor made his way to Loras. You sat and watched, you hoped someone, anyone would intervene. Renly, Nedd, the King, anyone.
Just as you were sure that was the end, “Leave him be!” The giant man behind you roared. The Hound swung his sword blocking a fatal blow to Loras. You sat there, your eyes not wide but narrowed and brows furrowed. You studied the battle between these two brothers. You wondered why, why would this man risk his own life just to save one of Loras? If he was the merciless monster that everyone had claimed, why do this? As you watched these men fight you noticed, the noble men all fought as they were trained, this man fought as he knew would kill. He fought with experience.
You couldn’t help but find it exciting.
As The King called off this fight, The Hound dodged a fatal blow he simultaneously bowed to the King. This made your lips part slightly as you struggled to conceal a smile.
As Loras named The Hound champion everyone stood and clapped, but not you.
You sat and stared at the man, your cheeks with a renewed blush on them. You smiled softly at him, his gaze soon met your own. Once met, it was hard to break.
You managed to weasel your way out of the sight of the Starks and Lannisters to check on Loras. As you made your way to the stables you didn’t find Loras but The Hound. You felt like you walked into a brick wall as you saw the Giant drinking from a wine skin sitting against the stable that held your own horse.
He didn’t look at you as he said “Your pretty boy isn’t here, girl.” as he took another long swig of the wineskin in his fist.
“I’m sure I don’t know who you refer to.” You lie as you slowly walk over to your horse.
“Fuck you don’t.” He hissed “Dirty trick you and that boy pulled.”
“No honor in tricks.” You say feeding your horse some feed from your palm.
“Honor,” He scuffs “only cunts believe in that shit.” your brows raised, you’d never heard a man curse so much. They rarely did in the company of a Lady.
“There was honor in what you did, It was quite brave, Ser.”
“I'm not a ser, I already told your pretty boy that.”
“Loras is not my ‘pretty boy’” you said in a mocking tone making the hound crack a small smirk.
“Fuck off,” He scuffed, “Round that boy you’re as in heat as that bitch mare in that stable.”
“Is that why you came here? You sit in front of my mare's stable because you wanted to accuse me of having relations with a friend of mine?” You eyes shift from your mare to glare at him with disgust. His eyes locked with yours. He hardly needed to look up at you to see your eyes.
“I don’t like the way you look at me.” He said flatly
“I don’t like the way you talk to me.” Your eyes went back to your mare. “Don’t talk to me like that and I won’t look at you like that.”
“Don’t matter how you look at me, just that you do.” He said as he took another swig.
You looked down contemplating what that could have meant as you looked over to him.
“Didn’t I just fuckin’ tell ya not to do that?” He growled however your gaze did not falter.
“You did not, you said you don’t like it.” You asserted mockingly, not at all scared of this man beside you, even though you maybe should be.
He stood, showing just how small you were in comparison to him. As he loomed over you, his eyes raked over every part of you, avoiding your eyes.
“It will serve you well to listen to a man. Save yourself some pain. Some men, like to hit stubborn girls like you. Men who like to beat them.” He said in a somewhat more gentle tone than before.
Your eyes met him once more, as you looked up at him, you realized he’d never been so close to you.
“And what of you? Are you one of those men?” You asked teasing him, testing his patience
“Maybe,” he rasped “You don’t know the things I’ve done,”
You turned your body towards him to face him completely.
“You should be scared of me, of any man in this shit city.”
“I should be, but I’m not. I tried to be, but I can’t make myself feel frightened by you.” You said fidgeting with your necklace.
“I’m a killer,” He wrapped his fingers around your throat, but his grasp was hardly there at all, almost like he was hovering his hand there. “I could crush your pretty throat.”
“Do it.” You said quickly, His brows furrowed, “You think I want to live here? Do it.” you held onto his wrist, needing both hands to grasp his thick wrist fully. “No, you won’t hurt me.” You say softly.
His hand runs down your throat and lays flat engulfing your chest in his palm as his fingers laid on your collar bone. He felt your heartbeat for a moment, savoring it. “No, no little bird, I won't hurt you.” He conceded painfully, the name he called you made your cheeks blush. With that he turned away from you and stomped out of the stables.
You felt yourself release a breathe, fuck, you thought to yourself.
Few questions remained in your mind, ‘Why was he so gentle?’ and ‘Why did he make you feel this way?’
NOTE: Hi, this is my first time writing any fanfiction- believe me it will get better. We will be fuckin I promise we will be laying it down girls!! This one is mainly just world building. Let me know if there's anything you’d like to see going forward!
Xoxo
Bambi <3
#sandor clegane#sandor x reader#sandor clegane x reader#got x reader#got hc#game of thrones#the hound#got#sandor headcanon#sandor#sandor clegane fanfic#the hound fanfic#sandor the hound clegane#sandor fluff#sandor fanfic#sandor clegane smut#sandor clegane fic#sandor clegane x you#sandor clegane fluff#sandor fic#game of thrones fic#game of thrones fanfic#sandor clegane angst#sandor angst#sandor smut
229 notes
·
View notes
Note
Omg I have an idea Jaime x reader. Reader is a servant and Jamie is I love with her and they are together secretly but everyone knows because they have 2 children and cersie hates reader because she took Jamie from her and Jamie defends reader every chance he gets. Plus if the children are older maybe Joffrey has a crush on there daughter idk it just poped into my head.❤️❤️❤️
You’re Better Than Any Proper Lady
Quickly walking through the halls of the Red Keep I finally made it back to my chambers at the other end of the castle shutting the door quickly. Leaning my back against the door I quickly heard two sets of feet running directly at me giggling like crazy. “Mommy!” Two sets of arms embraced me in a warm hug.
“Ohhh hi babies. You’re daddy is coming shortly. I should have the rest of the night off for now.” Breaking the hug I put a hand on each of my children’s shoulders. The kids weren’t twins but they almost looked like they were in my opinion.
My daughter Laina had her father’s bright blonde hair that was in a braid falling down her back and my eye color. Whereas my son Alex had my hair color but it was almost as bright as her father’s. Yet he had his father’s eye color. Someone knocked three times on the door where I turned my head around getting to my feet. Opening the door the figure that had golden hair moves past me the second I locked the door behind the knight. "Cersei wants to see the both of us later tonight. I tried to tell her it wasn't necessary but she wouldn't take no for an answer...I've missed you."
“I’ve missed you too. What do you think she wants to talk with both of us about. I mean I thought we were doing a good job of keeping our relationship and the kids a secret. So that you don’t get in trouble with King Robert.” I told Jaime when he wrapped his arms around me in a hug kissing the crown of my forehead.
He held me in his arms with my hands resting on his armor chest with his green eyes focused on mine. “I’ve told you when we started this relationship between you and I. That I don’t care what other people think of us. If they know about the kids then I’ll stand by your side and defend you always.”
“I know you will, Jaime. Everyone may say you are an oath breaker. But I know you better than everyone else does.” Moving myself away from his arms I turned to our kids who were waiting to just embrace him like crazy. “Go on you two.”
Laina and Alex didn’t waste a second before they ran forward when he bent down on his knees opening his arms. “Ohh there’s my little lion and lionesses.” He hugged each of them when they throw their tiny arms around his neck smiling into his shoulders.
Watching Jaime embracing his kids that were on the ground right in front of me. Wrapping my arms around myself I smiled at their interaction. Jaime and I knew that our relationship couldn’t be out in the open but that wasn’t something important to me or him. With our different status ranks it was rare for a servant and a former heir to a household who had become a member of the Kingsguard would end up together. “Daddy, are you going to be able to stay the night this time?” Alex asked his father with those hopeful eyes focused on him.
“Oh I don’t know..” Jaime started to say hating to not be able to say yes without hesitation.
Laina tugged his right hand giving him puppy dog eyes trying to convince him into saying only yes and nothing else. “Please daddy. We want to spend more time with you.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Come here.” He sent them a smile kissing each of their foreheads before he rose to his feet beside me knowing we had to go see whatever his sister wanted. If we didn’t she would come and figure out that Jaime had fathered other children with someone else that wasn’t her. And that wouldn’t end well for either of us.
Hugging our kids quickly I kissed their heads shooing them away back into the spot that we hide them from the staff that would patrols even the servants chambers at odd times without our knowledge. The only reason I knew about it was because Jaime saw one of the spies searching one morning. “I’ll be back in little while. Don’t answer the door unless you hear three knocks on it.”
“You’re worrying too much. It’s starting to show Y/n. You need to remain like we have nothing to hide from her.” Jaime warned me while we walked beside each not holding hands moving through the halls on our way to the Queen’s chambers.
Slumping my shoulders I huffed trying to take some breathes to calm my nerves down. "She's the queen of the seven kingdoms and your sister. She could put our head on spikes if she wishes. Especially since she'll probably think that I stole you away from her. There's not really a good answer to our situation."
Jaime slowly opened the door letting me walk in first and he shut it behind himself. Shifting my gaze forward I held in my breath seeing the queen of the seven kingdoms sitting at a table by the open window. Cersei Lannister leans back in her chair gesturing for us to join her. "Ser Jaime. Lady Y/n, please sit with me."
Slowly together we moved and sat down across from her where I gulped being the first one to break the silence in the room. "You're grace, I'm afraid I have to ask why exactly did you request us here?"
"I want you to know that you aren't worthy of my brother. You might have been somewhat worthy of him if you were born from a noble house but you aren't. You came here as a servant to me. And I know of the little ones you have given him. But don't think for a moment that he will show devotion to you!' She growled gripping the wine cup in her hands.
Parting my mouth opened I didn’t know what to say to her. “Your grace, I don’t know what you’re talking about-“
“Oh cut the crap, servant girl. I know that the two kids who occasionally follow you around aren’t just yours but my brothers as well. Did you really think that I wouldn’t be able to notice the blonde hair and green eyes mixed with your physical features!” The queen cut me off with her sharp tongue. “Jaime and I belong together. You don’t deserve him and he doesn’t deserve you!”
Jaime slide his chair back with his hands resting on the table raising his voice towards his sister shocking the both of us. “You don’t get to talk about her that way. She is a better woman and lover than you will ever be. And I will be marrying her someday!”
Cersei jumped up to her feet slapping him straight across the cheek. “You lying cunt. Tell me you’re be a liar, Jaime!”
“Jaime?” I trailed off staring up at him taken back by his words.
His blonde hair was slightly falling in front of his green eyes but he didn’t have that cheeky smirk on his face and he didn’t look to be joking. He turned his hands into fists at his sides standing tall against his twin sister the queen. “I'm not joking, Cersei. I am falling in love with Y/n and our kids. And she is better than any high born lady..she's better than you ever were to me!"
"How dare you speak to me that way. I am the queen - I am your sister. We belong together, you and I. I will put your heads on spikes if you walk out that door!" She sent me a death glare where I gulped.
I didn't want to get in between the sibling fight. Even though I basically already was at this point. Jaime leans forward glaring at his twin sister knowing how to show he was confident in his words. "You won't be able to do anything once I tell father that his line is secure with two Lannister heirs."
"They're not born of noble blood. What makes you think that he will ever agree to your terms?" She teased him leaning on the table the same way he was with her blonde hair waving down her shoulders.
He didn't let his confidence drop at any time. "Because he told me family is all that lives on. He will just care that I will be his heir and that I have given him too grandchildren." He turned away from his sister offering me his hand tugging me up to stand until we had made it back to his chamber door.
Lifting my gaze up to his I squeezed his hand needing an answer. "I...I can't believe you said that to her. After everything that you've been through with her..and yet you chose me. And I don't get why we are at your chambers. The kids will wonder where we are at."
"I just want a few moments with you, Y/n." He responded with a bright smile kicking open the door dragging me inside pressing my back against the closed door. "Nothing I said in there was just for show. I meant every part of it. I want to marry you, Y/n. I want you to be my wife and the lady of Casterly Rock."
Wrapping my arms around his neck I smiled pulling his lips down onto mine. "I'd be honored to be your wife, Jaime Lannister. I think I am falling in love with you too"
"I'll talk with my father tomorrow. Now I just time with you and our kids." He responded wrapping his arms around my waist drawing me in for another kiss feeling me smiling into the long awaited kiss.
Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tag list - @makeshift-prime @rosie-posie08 @lover-of-books-and-tea
#jaime lannister x reader#Jaime Lannister x servant reader#jaime lannister one shots#jaime lannister x wife reader#jaime lannister x reader masterlist#jaime lannister imagine#jaime lannister one shot#got x you#got x y/n#got x reader#jaime lannister x you#jaime lannister x y/n#nikolaj coster waldau#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones imagines#game of thrones fic#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones x you#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones asks#ask box is open for anything#comments really appreciated
447 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let’s Stay Here
warnings: fluff, not proofread, targaryen!reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is 18+
summary: having been born the second Targaryen daughter, you were used to being overlooked. however, there was one person who always had his eyes on you.
author’s note: this is purely self indulgent. I am obsessed with Harwin. also fuck house of the dragon I’ve got beef with that show now
When Rhaenyra had been named heir to the iron throne, you had been happy for her. Of course you had– you two were sisters, and although born a few years apart, you were close friends.
But with Rhaenyra’s naming, chaos had followed. Whispers in the halls of the Red Keep; sour looks from disapproving lords; passive aggressive comments from the queen.
Some days you felt as though you would explode if you remained in the castle any longer.
So, logically, you began to sneak out.
It was harmless fun at first; just seeing how long you could go without being noticed. The City Watch was relentless with their nightly patrols, and so it became somewhat of a game to evade them.
Over time, you became more bold. You would wear less to disguise yourself. You would stand closer to watchmen. A few times you even swiped trinkets and food from vendors in the street.
As all things do, however, it eventually became boring. What used to be exhilarating became mundane, and you once again ached for excitement. That excitement came in the form of one Ser Harwin Strong.
You knew who he was; his father was hand of the king, after all. And Harwin was certainly memorable by himself. You and Rhaenyra had whispered about him more than a few times before, but she had never been taken with him– not like you had.
So, when you finally spotted him one night in Flea Bottom, patrolling the streets in his armor, you couldn’t resist the urge to test your luck.
Grinning to yourself, you pulled off the torn cap barely hiding you hair and shoved it into the pocket of your trousers. With silver hair on full display, you started your trek towards Harwin.
He had his back turned to you as he walked down an empty alleyway. You cautiously approached, deciding to just walk past him to see if he would notice.
Your shoulder brushed his armor-clad one as you passed him, and instantly the knight reacted. His hand that had been resting upon the pommel of his sword gripped it, beginning to unsheathe the blade.
You just kept walking, until his startled “Princess?” stopped you.
You turned with a smile, curtsying to the knight. You saw as he tried– and failed– to mask a smile.
“Ser Harwin. Lovely night, is it not?” You spoke as if you were out for a stroll in the gardens at the keep. He shook his head, sheathing his sword and dropping his hand to the side.
“Forgive me, princess, but you shouldn’t be out here. Especially not alone.”
You hummed in agreement, nodding your head. “Would you care to accompany me, then? I’ve grown quite bored by myself. I’m sure you would provide great company.”
“Princess, I cannot– I must take you back your quarters.”
“You mustn’t. I am in need of some fresh air and excitement. My quarters have become quite stuffy as of late.”
He looked at you, and you could tell he was torn between his mischievous spirit and his duty. Deciding to make the choice for him, you took a step back.
“Well, Ser Harwin, I understand you must do your duty and return me to safety. However, I fear that you must catch me first. I hope that armor is lighter than it looks,” you teased before turning and running out of the alley. You could hear him curse and then the clanging of armor as he ran after you.
“Stop!” He called out, causing a few heads to turn as he followed you into a crowded street.
You laughed with glee as you slipped between people, turning your head every so often to catch a glimpse of Harwin’s gold cloak far behind.
As you rounded a corner, you were met with a dead end. You turned to leave, only to be met with the armor of a city watchman once again.
Looking up, you grinned as Harwin scowled.
“Hello again, Ser. It seems you’ve caught me.”
“It seems I have,” he grumbled, reaching for your arm. You willingly gave it to him, watching as his hand grasped your bicep. His grip wasn’t tight– but it certainly wasn’t lax, either.
He began to steer you back towards the castle, and you sighed. You easily could’ve evaded him longer than you had– you’d been doing it for years. However, maybe a part of you had wanted him to catch you.
Harwin had always been kind to you and Rhaenyra. He wasn’t like the other lords at court– he wasn’t fawning over your sister and vying for her hand. He was watching from afar– occasionally up close– and his focus wasn’t on her. It was on you.
“Forgive me if I speak out of turn, Princess,” he begins, and you nod your head absentmindedly. “But I cannot believe that the red keep could be so bad that you have to sneak out every night.”
You stopped, causing Harwin to tug slightly on your arm as he took another step. At your halt, he turned and looked at you with a grin.
“You can’t think you’ve gotten through the streets so safely all these years without help, Princess. I am better at my job than you think.”
“Why haven’t you stopped me before?” You questioned, resuming your walk.
“I have… noticed certain things during my time here. Certain things pertaining to you.”
“You’ve been watching me, then?” You replied, to which he chuckled.
“Everyone watches, Princess. Some more closely than others.”
“So it seems,” you responded. The two of you fell silent as Harwin steered you back towards the keep. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he led you right to the secret passage you had used to get out of the castle.
Smiling sheepishly, you removed your arm from his grasp and turned towards the passage. He bowed, giving you a quick “princess” before turning to head back towards the city streets.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, Ser Harwin.” You called over your shoulder, causing him to stop mid-step. He didn’t turn, but you heard him chuckle as he continued on. You smiled to yourself as you watched him leave for a moment, before turning and slipping into the passage.
—
Your game continued from then on, except you weren’t the only player. You would deliberately search for Harwin, and he would always take you right back to the keep– but you two became closer as time passed. You would drag out your walks to speak to him for just a minute more. He would insist on hiding in the shadows for a moment so he could survey the nearby crowd, only so he could get closer to you in the darkness.
Eventually, you could no longer entertain your nightly trips to the streets of King’s Landing. You were being watched more closely as tensions within the castle rose. It didn’t help that Rhaenyra’s scorned suitors were now turning to you, as their first choice had been wed to Laenor. If they couldn’t have the heir, at least they could still have a Targaryen.
Your father became engrossed in finding you a match– just as he had done for Rhaenyra. Of course, you had already made up your mind on who you wished to wed.
“What are you thinking about?”
Harwin’s rumbling voice broke you from your thoughts of marriage and politics. You smiled as you rolled over in your bed to face the man beside you.
“Marriage,” you replied honestly, closing your eyes as he brushed a strand of silver hair behind your ear.
“Marriage, hm?” He spoke, his hand coming to rest on your cheek. You nodded, your eyes still closed.
“Which lucky lord shall be your husband?” He asked, and you reached your hand up, resting it atop his.
“No decision has been made yet. Perhaps a Lannister? Maybe a Baratheon?”
“You wound me, Princess,” he said, and you giggled as you opened your eyes. He was smiling at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back.
“Oh, how about a Tully?”
“Truly, you have no heart,” he told you, to which you laughed. You removed his hand from your cheek, intertwining your fingers.
“Of course I wish to wed you, my love. I could not imagine marrying another.”
“The son of the hand and the daughter of the king. I’m sure the king will be thrilled,” Harwin spoke.
“The king will be thrilled to be rid of me,” you replied, shuffling closer to him. “I am a burden keeping him from focusing on his heir.”
“You,” Harwin said, “are no burden. The king is lucky to have a daughter as great as you.”
“Flattery suits you, Ser Harwin,” you giggled. He chuckled and released you hand in favor of reaching over and pulling you into his chest.
“Tell me more of how great I am.”
“That would take years, Princess,” he responded.
“I have plenty of those.”
Harwin chuckled again, a deep and soothing sound to your ears. You rested your head on his chest as he slipped his fingers through your hair.
“Let’s just stay here forever. No eyes watching. No family quarrels. Just us,” you whispered.
“Just us,” he repeated.
#game of thrones#game of thrones fic#house of the dragon#hotd#house of the dragon fic#harwin strong#ser harwin strong#harwin strong x reader#targaryen!reader#targaryen reader#Ser Harwin strong x reader#Harwin strong fic#house of the dragon x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#fluff#Harwin strong fluff#game of thrones fluff
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
disarming || tormund giantsbane x gn! reader
hello all! i haven't posted anything i've written in a while (over a year) but when prompted by my daughter grack i searched back through my google docs and found this fic that i don't think i ever posted so here we go! (also this hasn't been edited lol)
summary: gn! reader kills a thenn and tormund is bricked over it
words: 2k
warnings: violence!!!!!! use of knives, punching, kicking, stabbing, and killing!!!! to be fair it's all canon typical violence for game of thrones but still there's your warning! also short references to nsfw but no detailed action
ao3 link
Warm callused hands framed your face and he leaned in to kiss you.
Except Tormund didn’t kiss you, kiss was too gentle a word for it, he consumed you. Every time he pressed his mouth to yours it was like he was trying to drink you down, overwhelming sensations of nothing but him causing your brain to go haywire. He didn’t give pecks, no small chaste kisses, that was your thing. When you’d walk past him and pause just to creep up on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his cheek then carry on with whatever you were previously doing. Sometimes he let you, he knew you liked those gentle kisses, wanted to give you whatever you wanted when he could.
However most times he’d slip his hands into your hair, or around your waist and pull you into him with strength you couldn’t get out of if you tried, tip your head back and deepen the kiss. And if when you finally pulled away you looked dizzy, hair a mess and breathing ragged, then that was just a bonus.
“I swear on–on– on all of the southern gods, every single one of them, that if you ever come near me again I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” your finger jabbed into the Thenn’s chest, loud voice carrying throughout the camp. You can hear the mutters of people gathering around, the syncopated overlapped voices of the other free folk watching, waiting.
“If you didn’t have Tormund to back you up I bet you’d be so much quieter. Maybe you need someone to teach you to be quiet, little one.” He leaned in, voice low and predatory with a grin stretching out the scars that covered his face. Those white lines marking a Thenn that always made a chill run down your spine.
“I need no one to back me up, I don't want Tormund’s help and he couldn’t stop me if he wanted to. You think I would be Tormund’s if I couldn’t handle my own?”
As if he could sense his name spoken from across the way, you hear Tormund walk up, his loud voice familiar enough to pick out of the crowd circled around you and the Thenn.
“What’s going on?” Tormund’s words end in a growl as he finally breaks through the masses to see you.
Your mouth twisted down into an angry frown and the hand not currently inches from the other man’s chest is clenched into a fist and trembling just slightly at your side. He takes the final few steps to get to your side, a glare pinning the man in front of you in place. He had joked before but only a fool didn’t hesitate going up against Tormund Giantsbane. There was a reason he was Tall-Talker, Horn-Blower and Breaker of Ice. Tormund was less a man and more a force, a storm that roved over lands destroying anything stupid enough to get in his way.
Tormund’s hand rests on your shoulder, his body tense in anticipation, always seconds away from swinging a blade at anyone who so much as dares to glare at you and this is no different. You speak one last time before turning to walk off, “I won’t warn you again.”
“And how do you plan to kill me little one? By whinging? Yelling? You couldn’t kill me if Tormund trained you for years.”
His cocky words are enough to break your last shred of patience left and you spin before Tormund can react, stomping across the frozen dirt, fist clenched and ready to throw a punch. Luckily Tormund recovers fast enough to grab your elbow mid-swing and you round on him, ready to yell that you’d had enough of that shit eating grin and he could try to eat his next kill with less teeth.
“You’ll break your sweet little hand on that ugly fucker, here.” Tormund lifts your hand to kiss across your knuckles and pushes a knife into it and nods approvingly, twisting you around to face the Thenn again. You get to watch the smirk melt off the man’s face. This is no longer a game, not even an argument. He has two options now; let you kill him or fight you and have Tormund kill him. There’s no scenario where he lays a hand on you and lives to talk about it.
“I’ll make you a deal. You disarm me fair and square and you win, Tormund’ll let you live. If not, I carve that smirk from your face.” Your head tilts expectantly and the Thenn’s eyes shift from you to Tormund, watching the small nod Tormund gives in agreement before looking back to you.
He grins. “Deal.”
He moves faster than you expected, quick for such a large man, but it doesn’t matter. He swings his hand out to hit you and you duck, adrenaline surging through you as your instincts take over. He’s a fool and a cocky one at that and you’re going to show him. You drop your breathing to slow and controlled, crouching slightly to study him, eyes scanning over his tall form to pick out the best places to strike.
His leg shoots out and slams into your side. Pain blossoms across your stomach and you bite your cheek to muffle your cry, wrapping your arm around his ankle to keep him on one foot. He’s stronger than you and you know you won’t be able to hold him there for long, but you don’t need long. Your blade sinks into his leg right above his knee, twisting before you yank it back out and he tugs his leg from you with a scream. He expects you to attempt to hold onto it, so when you drop it the force of his pull twists him off balance and he has to stumble to catch himself, grunting through the shooting pain the steps cause.
“You’re a fool. You’re a fool and I warned you.” You spit blood at his feet. He looks up to meet your eyes again and there’s a split second where you’re concerned about the rage so clearly shown on his every feature. Taking a deep breath, you force your body to relax, shaking out the tension in your joints and twisting your head until your neck cracks loudly.
The sounds of the crowd have risen, voices overlapping and in the back of your mind you register a familiar voice shushing them all. The man in front of you is too focused on kicks, anything to keep you as far from him as possible thinking his strength lies in his reach spanning farther than your own. He swings a hand and his fist connects with your temple, your entire head rings, vision going blurry and black around the edges and you gasp.
It takes you a moment to catch your bearings, a few stumbled steps and ragged intakes of breath, and that’s all it takes. The bottom of his foot lands solidly on your chest and he pushes with a force that likely cracked several ribs, knocking you to the ground. His own chest heaves with exertion, walking forward to stand over you and you can see the way he struggles with restraint, unused to leaving an enemy alive after a fight.
He opens his mouth to speak and hesitates at the last second. Blood trails down your chin, shadowing a grin that gives him pause in his victory, but not long enough to stop the words from falling out of his mouth. “Fair and square.”
“I said disarm me,”
He puts the pieces together too late.
The knife still clutched tightly in your hand that wrapped around where he stood slices through the back of his ankles on both feet and he drops with a scream. Crumpling to the ground, the Thenn grabs at his bleeding feet, attempting to staunch the blood that flows around his fingers and pours onto the ground below him. You’ve risen to your feet in his panic, swaying slightly as your head gets caught up in the dizzy waves of a concussion. Luckily your adrenaline still pumping through your veins is enough to keep you standing long enough for him to look up at you and lock eyes one last time.
Your knife finds its home in the small space between the side of his collarbone and neck, right where it’s still soft and relatively easy to drive it as far in as it will go. You push until the heel of the knife clinks into bone and he finally collapses below you, ripping the hilt from your hand in his fall. He lets out one final choked off gurgle, eyes rolling back and lids closing and he’s dead. His and your blood stains your hands and clothes, a messy watercolor of death.
Now that the fight is over your body threatens to collapse, hands on your locked-up knees to keep from hitting the ground. Eyes slammed shut in an attempt to limit the way the world spins on his axis like a top and warm large arms wrap around your middle to vault you into the air.
The earth shakes below you, but maybe that’s just Tormund in his raucous laughter and shouted words. “I told you all! Mine doesn’t need anyone for anything! Only needs me around to fuck them ‘til they cry!”
Heat blooms in your face at his exclamation to the surrounding crowd, your hand smacking into his shoulder feebly. You doubt that even with all your strength you could do much to the man beyond a bee sting, but he grunts in fake pain at your strike just to indulge you. “I don’t think I need you for even that, I did a pretty good job at doing it myself before you came along.”
“But I do it better.”
His almost crystal blue eyes meet yours and he’s wearing that shit-eating, Tormund Giantsbane, wolfish grin. The one that probably earned him the name Tall Talker if you had to guess. The look is more familiar than even your family and you can’t help but mirror it back at him in your own way, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
“Aye, you uncivilized great behemoth of a man. You do it better.”
Tormund connects his lips with yours, quickly licking into your mouth to deepen the kiss, drinking you down. He gets the satisfaction of the taste of you and the bitter clash of your blood that only spurs him on until his hands are fisted in your shirt and you’re whining into his mouth, almost grinding onto him from your place in his arms.
His hold on you only tightens until he pushes on your cracked ribs and you jerk away from his touch with a broken gasp. You drop your head to his shoulder, breathing slowly through the sharp pain until it passes, slipping back into the gentle throb it sits at as a baseline. Tormund presses a kiss to your forehead, one hand softly running up the line of your spine in comfort, already walking towards your shared home.
“Let’s get those clothes off and I can see just how hurt you are.” He says, pushing aside the door and kicking it shut behind the two of you. He sets you down on the bed delicately, not wanting to cause you anymore pain and you smile up at him standing above you.
“I’m fine really. Well– I might have a concussion.”
“I’ll get you taken care of my pretty little crow. Then I’ll make you cum on my tongue so many times you cry. Seeing you kill a Thenn has me harder than I think I’ve ever been in my life.” Tormund speaks the words like they’re normal, a casual conversation and mention of murder being sexy. Of course you’re sure a big part of the whole sexy-murder thing has to do with his hatred for Thenn’s and the specificity of your victim. Not that you’ll complain, or turn down the offer.
#game of thrones#tormund giantsbane#game of thrones x reader#tormund giantsbane x reader#tormund x reader#tormund giantsbane fic#tormund giantsbane fanfic#game of thrones fic#ezra writes
157 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
fallingspidey
lost;
used-to-control-the-die
brain empty, thoughts none.
megalukiee
Smile4TheBlade
fearfully-fiction
fiction. fearful. fiction.
inspiredbydaimao
同じ空の下で