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a-libra-writes · 1 year

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Yaaaayyyyyy requests are back!!! I love your writing so much😭😭😭😭 can i ask for my ASOIAF bois: Jamie, Stannis, Jorah, Sandor (feel free to change the list) when they found out their s/o is injured but their s/o was hiding it from them because s/o didn't want them to worry?

Your boys are at the front :> along with some others i thought of and have been requested over the past few weeks.

Jaime - This man has the nerve to get annoyed with you, asking all sorts of questions about how it happened or how bad it is. He is just as bad about hiding his own hurts, emotional or physical, but does he recognize the irony here? No. The more severe the injury, the more irritated he'll be, and if someone actually did it you can bet Jaime's going to be reckless about retaliation. That may be why you hid it in the first place! He has no experience with treating wounds, so finding some way to retaliate is the only thing Jaime can think of doing to help.

Stannis - Oh, he'd be beyond annoyed with you. It seems reckless to him - yes, he'd worry, but that would only be natural. Expect a lot of grumbling and a lecture as he looks over the injury and does what he can. He'd check on you regularly, even if he's busy, or at least send a maester to ensure it's healing properly. Even before he found out, Stannis probably picked up something was off, but couldn't put his finger on it - now he understands you were trying to walk normally or mask pain. Stannis might take it a little harsher than you intended, wondering why you felt the need to hide it. Was there a different reason?

Jorah - Jorah does not take this well, and that may be the reason why you hid the injury in the first place. You being wounded feels like he's failed in some way - failed to prevent it, failed to help you care for it. He'd be insistent on helping care for it and you'd end up listening to some lectures as he did so. Jorah wants to be relied upon and to be useful, so it's painful when you don't go to him with something like this. He forgives you quickly, though; he always does. Jorah asks you to promise to tell him next time your hurt, maybe even begs. He hates that you could've been hurting and he didn't know it.

Sandor - His temper flares up once he figures it out. He knew you were moving strangely, and why'd you hide it? So he wouldn't worry? The Hound might bark a laugh at that, if he wasn't so pissed. It's fucking stupid to not treat a wound like that, and he tells you as much. There's been plenty of times where he's disregarded his own injuries, but that's different. He's used to being hurt, taking punishment - you aren't that way. You shouldn't be. As much as he distrusts maesters and healers, you both find one, and he glowers the whole time. Well, at least his foul mood is concentrated on someone else ...

Asha - She could just smack you upside the head. She still might, if you resist getting treatment. While you're being taken care of, Asha's really letting you have it. You aren't one of those empty-headed Ironborn warriors, so why are you endangering yourself? She isn't amused by it being for her sake - she's strong, she can take it. She could've gotten you help. Asha's anger fizzles out quickly, especially if you're already contrite. Once the healer is gone, she takes your hand and makes you promise not to hide next time.

Arianne - She knew something was up! You can't hide the injury for long, because she was noting your different gait, your change in attitude. She just confronts you directly, so your plan of hiding goes out the window within days. She might throttle the maester who tried to hide it too, but that's for later. Arianne helps change the bandages herself, speaking quietly yet firmly that she doesn't want you to do this again. The way Arianne sees it, worries you all the time, so it's only natural she gets a taste of her own medicine once in a while.

Ned - If he's busy and you're clever about hiding it, it may take some time for Ned to notice. Some things may strike him as odd, like if he noticed you walking strangely one day or you seemed tight-lipped, but once he finds out the full truth he just feels confused and guilty. Ned doesn't consider any worrying to be a burden; he ought to worry, as your lord husband, and he wishes you came to him rather than hide it. He also feels more guilt over not having noticed right away. With a serious expression (yet still in his soft voice), Ned would ask you to not hide your pains next time, and he'll do the same.

Benjen - He caught onto you acting and moving strangely, and considering how observant he is, figured you'd hurt yourself in some way. There's plenty of ways to get hurt on Castle Black, let alone the constant aches that come with the cold. When some time passes, he eventually brings it up with you, since you aren't mentioning it. He figures that you didn't want to worry him, but Ben wouldn't hide such things from you, so he'd rather you be upfront with him - and once he figures it's a more serious wound, his usual lighthearted, joking expression fades and he asks you to not hide such things. He'd be actually upset if you hadn't sought any treatment. Out in this cold and wilderness, you must let yourself accept help.

Mance - He understands, regardless if you're a Ranger with the Wall or a wildling he met far beyond it. No matter which side, showing weakness is often not an option. He figures you're wounded because he notices you walking and moving differently, trying not to put too much stress on it. He'll just ask you if he can look at it and try to help - and he's surprised if you were hiding it for his sake. It seems a little silly, but Mance would never mock you. Mance just asks that you tell him next time - he insists upon it - so he can help. He'll worry much less if he directly treated the wound.

#this seems familiar but i have no idea it all kinda runs together now LOL #jaime lannister x reader #stannis baratheon x reader #sandor clegane x reader #asha greyjoy x reader #yara greyjoy x reader #arianne martell x reader #ned stark x reader #benjen stark x reader #mance rayder x reader

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queerfics · 1 month

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(Smut) Captain's Quarters - Yara Greyjoy x CisF!Reader

Summary: Princess Y/N, sibling of Queen Daenerys, has returned with her sister for a visit to the Iron Islands. These visits used to be more commonplace, but the two have not visited the islands since before the Battle of Winterfell. Y/N has a strong attachment to the islands, but finds her attachment has extended to its reigning monarch in a new, unfamiliar way.

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: loss of virginity, oral sex, fingering, praise kink (kinda), the works

A/N: Long time no see! I got so sick and tired of there being no reader insert for Yara that I arose from the dead with 4.2K words of yara-posting. Yara-yearning, if you will.

NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT

The night was surprisingly warm for the Iron Islands, and the salty mist of the beaches hung heavy in the air and clung to the sway of your hips and undone hair. Your hands clutched your silken robe shut as you leisured through the sand, a soothing waft of lavender from your recent bubble bath hitting your nose with a gentle breeze.

You paused at the base of the shore, where the brine nipped at your toes and you tilted your head back, deeply inhaling into your chest. Your eyes slipped shut.

It wasn't often you and your sister were able to visit the islands, but gods above, you had missed it. Queen Yara had earned a special place in Daeneyrs's heart after her proven loyalty to the Dragon Queen, and thus routine visits were necessary to uphold the alliance between the Greyjoys and the remaining Targaryens. Sometimes it felt like you had grown up here, and sometimes the coldness of Pyke felt more familiar to you than anything back home, despite how long it had been since you had returned.

You would never admit it, but something about the sea and the people on this particular side of the world had consumed you during all these years of visits. Something about the people's wildness and the way it mimicked the ocean that mothered the island spoke to you and whispered to you at night and danced on your eyelids in spirals and swirls.

Some other nights, when the whispers never came, you would hold a large shell up to your ear and pray. The beloved gift had always answered you with the melodic pounding of waves against rocks, against ships, and lured you to sleep. In your dreams, you would sink into your deepest desires.

In this realm, much below the surface level of what was true and probable, you would find yourself standing beside an iron throne. This was not unusual for you -- you had been born to stand behind your brother, and then readjusted to beside your sister. Your duty had always been protecting the honor of this seat and whomever presides in it, and yet this integral piece of your mind, heart, body and soul vanished in these moments, and instead, you found yourself for once atop of the throne.

Well, atop of its monarch.

Clawing at the throne, which was not particularly jagged and sharp like the one your sister sat upon, and clawing at the crowned, whose calloused hands curled inside you and rough lips whispered filthy promises to you in a voice that sounded an awful lot like

"Yara!"

You stumbled away from the shore, whose once soothing pulls had now gone ice cold and stabbed at your feet and at hem of your robe. Your hand readjusted the collar of your robe out of instinct, as your sense slowly settled, though your burning cheeks lingered a bit too long.

Turning towards the disturbance, your eyes caught on the closest (and largest) docked ship, whose windows and deck harbored light and celebration. A group of sailors and soldiers drank merrily and called for a straggling participant, who marched towards the boat and waved them off, enjoying the attention in her own way. In this moment, you were grateful that the shadows of the cliffs behind you hid your so very clearly out of place figure.

Your attention followed Yara as she boarded the ship, and despite the distance, you could make out the way they all greeted her with a clasp on the shoulder, pat on the back, or smack on the bottom. The corners of your mouth turned up at the raw, unabashed display of admiration.

Shudders ran down your back and you ignored the way your stomach turned. For a moment, you thought about heading back to the castle. Nauseatingly, you thought about knocking on your sister's door and spilling these secrets to her and beg for direction, a command, anything.

Daenerys was the closest thing you had to a mother, and the urge to crawl into her arms and wait for guidance on this troubling issue consumed you as it always had, but you were a woman now, a delicate one, but blossomed and bled nonetheless, and you had witnessed your own sister's call to these womanly urges, and it was incredibly reminiscent of this pull you felt to the Ironborn Queen.

Your mind wandered back to your arrival this morning.

"It has been so long since I've returned," you said to Daenerys as you marveled over the aged walls of Pyke. Your hand danced across the slotted stone, digging your finger into chipped areas and rubbing your thumb against the in-between space.

Daenerys smiled knowingly, hands clasped softly in front of her. Missendei, Tyrion, and Greyworm trailed closely behind.

"How long has it been?" You murmured, mostly to yourself.

"Not since before the war, my lady," Tyrion added, and you turned to him, nodding with a solemn smile.

"It has been nearly that long since I have seen the rest of the Greyjoys, as well. Not since Theon."

Tyrion and Daenerys nod respectfully, reminiscing on Theon's death and the bravery that presumed it. A small silence ensued.

"I never understood how you have adapted so well to this cold, my lady," Missendei said, sweetly cutting the silence.

"She is a dragon," Daenerys replied, reaching out to brush a bit of her sister's hair back into place. "She provides her own warmth."

The throne room was modest in size but exuberant in its carvings, luxurious enough to suggest status but rugged enough to represent the people it ruled. You couldn't help but admire it all, it being so vastly different from the outright lushness of Mereen or even Dragonstone.

Of course, the architecture was not the only thing you were interested in. You turned your attention to the throne, and immediately stopped. Your sister continued for only a few steps more, taking her place in front of you.

"Yara," Daeneyrs greeted with a warm smile.

Yara strutted forward with an unmatched level of confidence, and you couldn't help but stare at the way her leather tunic hugged her strong shoulders. You were used to Yara not dressing like any other lady you had known, but couldn't help but always think the natural defiance in her pants and boots exuded power and self-assurance. Yara looked somehow more bold and stronger than you had ever seen her, and it was admirable in an unfamiliar, indescribable way.

"My queen," Yara bowed in her own way, a half-smirk ever-present, "It is an honor."

The two clasped arms, and Daenerys smiled before turning to you.

"I'm sure you remember my little sister, Princess Y/N."

Yara's attention followed, and you couldn't help the way you held your breath and stared up at her with widened eyes. It was like you were seeing her for the first time.

"Princess Y/N."

Yara said your name like she was trying it on, but in truth she had always used formalities in this way, especially towards you. In your aw-stricken mind, you'd like to think that her gaze softened a bit. She had never looked at you like this before.

"Your return has been long-awaited."

She outstretched her hand, and you took it with both of your hands, feeling yourself relax into it. Your eyes watered a bit, and you squeezed, unable to avoid the way you beamed up at her.

"I have missed the islands dearly."

Your sister had given in to her own desires, and she had lived to tell the tale. Perhaps you would too.

The ground seemed to push you towards the ship, and by the time your eyes unglossed and you regained clarity, you found yourself standing at the base of the footway. You of course had been on many vessels that belonged to the Iron Fleet, and you knew the people on board rather well, but you couldn't help but feel nervous now. These men were rather drunk, and you knew you probably should have an escort this late. Not even status could always safeguard a lady from the hands of depravity and sin. Stupidly, you grabbed on to the ropes of the ramp and pulled yourself aboard.

Immediately the overwhelming stench of ale and piss cause you to wrinkle your nose.

"Gods above," you whispered to yourself. Though you had been quiet, the sailors very quickly took notice of your presence.

"Princess!" one called, waving at you with his mug of ale. It sloshed over the sides and splashed, narrowly missing you. The men around him jokingly scolded him.

"Come on Ravos, you don't want to ruin her dress," a dark haired, stout man called Yohn slurred.

"Don't look like she's wearing much of a dress to me."

The men turned to you once more, and your ears burned, now with a much more uncomfortable feeling as they eyed you. One coughed and shifted on his feet.

You wrapped your robe tighter, straightening yourself up like you had been taught. You narrowed your eyes slightly, and responded directly to Ravos.

"Where can I find Yara?" You asked, hoping you exuded more authority than the piece of meat you felt like.

Reacting much more appropriately, he turned and pointing towards the North end of the ship.

"Captain's quarters," he grunted, avoiding eye contact.

You nodded, and the fifteen or so men stumbled backwards to allow for a path.

Carefully you stepped over puddles of questionable substances and shards of glass, maintaining as much grace and fierceness as you could muster. Behind you, the men resumed their activities, seemingly already over the drunken encounter. You knocked once on the Captain's door, before hurriedly slipping inside, eager to escape the sailors.

As you shut the door and turned to face her, you had to carefully force out a normal respiration rate. Yara was propped up in her chair with her boots resting on the desk, holding her own stein, though her sobriety seemed much more intact.

"Hello, princess."

Yara didn't bother hiding her surprise. She set her stein down and dropped her arms to the ends of her arm rest. A smirk creeped across her face, and she leaned her head back as she very obviously eyed you up and down, legs spreading a bit for a better view. Despite her brute persona, she did seem to try to hide the way she stuttered over the V of your robe.

You noticed anyways.

"A little far from the dressing room, are we?" She nodded at your outfit. You blushed and nodded with a smile. She smiled back and sat up. "You should know better than to walk around alone at night like that, especially here."

"I'm not alone now," you replied softly. Here in the candlelight, she was able to see you fully.

Yara took notice of the way you wrung your hands together, the way your eyes were glued to the loose laces of her tunic, the rose hue of your cheeks and ears, and your long, snow-white hair falling in loose curls around you.

Yara had known you for half a decade at this point. When she first met you, you were a scrawny, timid little girl who watched from Daeneyrs's shadow. To be fair, you were still quite shy, but you were a woman now, not nearly the little bird of a lady that you used to be. Now, in the warm lighting, she could see that these days you were more of a snow leopard than a cub, and you looked almost regal.

For a moment, Yara wondered what you would look like on the throne instead of your sister. Her hands squeezed at her chair at the idea, and she concluded that that was an image that would inspire millions.

Yara's eyes returned to your face, recomposing her commanding demeanor. She shrugged and stood, traipsing leisurely towards you.

Your eyes' followed each other, studying the other until they met. Yara had never looked at you this way, not that you could recall, and the curiosity in her face sent a thrill down your spine and fueled your ego.

"Oh, but I am as much as of a predator as any man out there, princess," Yara countered.

Peculiarly, you stepped forward, taking Yara by surprise at this newfound confidence. She watched you, and noticed something lurking behind your irises, something Yara was very familiar with and could feel exuding off of your body, but ten fold. She knew why you had come.

"And I am a dragon," You murmured, meeting her eyes without hesitation. Up close, you looked even more feral than before, with the sea spray making a wild mess of your hair, and each rock of the boat interrupting your breaths.

Yara backed up to sit on the edge of her desk, and you followed, keeping the distance small but not yet close enough. Yara waited for you to make a move with unusual patience. You raised your hand to caress the open area of her shirt with your palm, then push it aside just a few inches to trace her collarbone with your index and middle finger.

"Are you scared of dragons, Yara?"

"Anyone in their bloody right mind is scared of dragons," she replied, watching your hand as her breathing grew heavy. You giggled, reaching your hand around to cup the space between her ear and neck, letting your thumb rub her jaw.

"Are you scared of me?" You spoke quietly, like it was a secret meant to be kept safe between the two of you.

"I'm hungry for you," she growled, eyes heavy with desire. You felt your core throb in an entirely new way, letting out a small whimper at the feeling.

Finally, Yara reached out, hand splaying across your lower back, where she could finally feel that the robe was the only thing preserving your modesty, and she could've fainted at the realization.

"I've never been with a dragon before," Yara confessed, halfway a joke, yet halfway entirely all too true. You brought up her other hand to truly cup her face, bring her attention to you.

"I've never been with anyone before," You whispered, and for a second Yara could see that familiar timidness she knew of you flicker between the lust clouding your vision. "You are the only person I've ever wanted."

Yara let out a small noise at this. "Then you must be starved."

You nodded, eyes falling to her lips.

"Can I?"

"Please."

The first thing Yara noticed was how warm you are. Your lips against hers were like fire, and your soft whimpers made her want to crawl inside the flames and be burnt alive. You practically fell against her, knees going week, but she grasped you with both hands and held you up.

This alone was like nothing you had ever experienced. Your ears rung from the intensity and your nails dug into Yara's skin ever so slightly, illiciting a gasp from her that you greedily swallowed.

Yara reached back with one hand, pushing herself off to stand, keeping you slotted between her legs. She turned you both, pushing you against the desk until you were sitting atop it now. You raked your hands over her shirt, grasping at it and pulling her as close as you could. Yara put her hands between you and undid the tie to your robe, hurriedly pulling it off your shoulders. She reached under your thighs, lifting you up by them and letting the robe fall on to the floor.

As Yara angled you on to the desk, you propped your arms behind yourself, baring your legs to her. She paused, staring at your bare form and licked her lips.

"Gods below," she growled, running her hands up your body. You shivered as they danced over your thighs and ghosted over your breasts. "You're fucking stunning."

Yara pushed back between your legs. The warmth of her skin against yours and the cold leather of her pants pressing against your bare sex made you moan. Yara shoved her hand back behind your back and laid you down flat.

"Such a pretty cunt," she whispered, tracing her thumb over you. You gasped at the touch, and watched as she brought it up.

"Do you know what this is, sweet girl?" Yara watched the way the wetness glistened on her finger, and you nodded your head.

She grinned, then brought her thumb to her mouth and sucked it clean. You whimpered at the sight, nearly panting now in desperation.

She leaned down to kiss to you and forced her tongue into your mouth. You moaned at the feeling and at the taste, grabbing on to the back of her head and pushing back with your own tongue. Yara groaned into your mouth and grabbed you by the neck, deepening the kiss, if that was even possible.

Yara's scent and touch and taste consumed you, feeding into every one of your senses and bleaching them until all that was left was her.

Finally, Yara put her hand against your chest and pushed you back against the desk.

"Be a good girl and open your legs a bit more for me," she commanded, and without a single underlying thought, you obeyed, gasping at the way your stomach turned at the petname. You watched with slightly parted lips, panting, as Yara sunk to her knees, staring into your eyes so intensely that you couldn't even think about looking away.

She settled between your legs and brought her hands to rest up on your thighs, just in case. You pushed up on your elbows, trying to see what she was going to do, when she pressed a firm kiss to your sex. You groaned, cheeks going pink, and Yara reacted similarly.

She kissed again, this time open mouthed, and gently sucked on your growing bud. You could feel your cunt pulsing, and your thighs quivered around Yara's head, but she held firm.

She licked stripes around your clit, teasing you before giving it a direct swipe that had you balling your fists and curling your toes.

"Yara!" You gasped, perhaps a little too loudly, because the voices outside of the room suddenly quieted. You froze, looking down at her in panic, but she didn't share the same concern.

Instead, Yara chuckled, murmured your own name against your cunt almost tauntingly, and without any warning, eased her tongue inside of you. Your whole body stuttered, and you slammed your hand against the desk. Yara gripped your legs even tighter and repeated the motion, and you couldn't find it in you to keep quiet, not with the way Yara was working you like she was eating her last meal.

"Fuck," you groaned, back arching. You head fell back, curls falling with it, and Yara swore she had never seen anything more stunning or satisfying. Yara's own cunt throbbed impossibly hard, but she continued her merciless assault, drawing curse after curse from you, until Yara was certain the men outside knew exactly what was going on and with whom.

Yara stood and pulled your hips closer to the edge of the desk. Holding you by your hips, she rocked her hips against your core, and you gasped at the new sensation. You grabbed her shoulder, holding yourself up.

Yara cradled your face with one hand, and you buried yourself in her arm, ear pressed against her chest, whining and whimpering. She pressed kisses into your neck, nipping at it and bruising it. Slowly, Yara stopped her hips, and just as you started to get question it, she spoke.

"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?" She teased, and you cried out, nodding desperately into her arm. Yara laughed, and then when you felt her middle and ring finger prodded at your entrance, you clenched down, gasping.

"Relax, sweetheart," she whispered, kissing right behind your ear. "I'm going to take good care of you."

You shuddered against her, but tried your best to settle down. Yara started pushing in again, and you clenched again out of instinct, this time clamping down on her fingers. She groaned into your ear.

"You're so tight," she whispered, and you pulsed around her fingers, whining. Once she was entirely inside, Yara curled her fingers, and your whole body reacted.

Your legs wrapped around her, holding her in place, and your fingers dug into her lower back while you saw stars. You bit down on her arm, at least still attempting to keep quiet, and Yara moaned loudly. When you finally loosened you grip on her arm, she pulled your face back by your hair.

"Does that feel good?" She whispered against your lips, and you panted, pressing kisses between each breath.

"Yes, y-yes," You cried out, and she pressed a knowing kiss to your temple.

"I'm going to move them," she warned, and you nodded, eyes glassed over and lips parted. She kissed your fiercely, then held eye contact as she started pumping her fingers. You groaned loudly, then started moving your hips to meet her hand. As your body adjusted to the foreign feeling, you grew confident.

The sound coming from it was obscene, and you pulled Yara down to sloppily kiss her. Yara pushed harder, and so did you. Soon, you developed a rythym, and you could feel a pressure building up in your stomach. Yara glanced down at her hand, then back up at you, eyes unbelievably filled with even more lust. You followed her gaze and practically melted at the sight.

Thick, hot cream spilled out of you and on to Yara's hand, and gods above, her hand was huge. Her palm practically framed your whole cunt, and the sight made you dizzy.

Yara flicked her thumb over your clit, and you choked, grabbing her neck to hold you up from falling backwards. Your whole spine tingled, and your vision started to blur.

"Y-Yara, I'm," you gasped, but you weren't entirely sure what was going on. "I'm, I think I'm gonna -"

"Cum, sweetheart," Yara groaned. "You're going to cum for me." She pumped her fingers harder, and you sobbed into her arms, feeling your stomach ball up tighter, tighter, tighter, and then burst.

You screamed into her shoulder as your cunt gushed over her hand, and Yara moaned your name into your ear at the feeling. Your hips stuttered, but Yara kept pumping until you were shaking uncontrollably and babbling nonsense. Then, she eased out of you.

She tilted your head up with one hand, then brought the other soiled one between the two of you. You looked up with watery eyes and red cheeks, and watched as Yara licked your cum off of a few of her fingers. Then, she prodded your lips with the remaining two, and you opened your mouth, accepting it gratefully.

You pushed her fingers farther and farther down your throat, chasing that high and letting the bittersweet flavor swirl and cloud your taste and mind. You looked up at Yara through wet lashes, and she swore she could've creamed herself.

"Fucking hell," she groaned, and pulled her fingers out of your mouth, worried you'd probably suffocate yourself on them if she let you work at them any more.

You coughed and gasped, and regained your breath just before she pressed a firm kiss against your mouth. When she pulled away, you stared at her with wide eyes and she panted down at you. You couldn't pull a single word to say off your tongue.

She kissed your temple, then the side of your head, and rested her forehead against yours. "Gods below, are you sure that was your first time?"

You nodded breathlessly, swallowing thickly.

"You fuck like a-"

"- I want to do it again."

Yara pulled back, studying your face. Her face was expressionless, and for a moment during the silence, you were worried you had angered her, or somehow shamed her skill. Then, the corners of her mouth curved into a smirk.

"You want to do it again?" She asked, tilting her head until her lips were almost slotted against yours. You nodded your head.

"Is that okay?" You asked, no shyness left to spare.

Yara laughed loudly and kissed you. She stepped away, running her hands through her hair.

"Yes, fucking absolutely," she assured. She reached down and grabbed your robe. "But not in here, I have other things to show you."

You quickly got dressed. Your body shook, so Yara helped you with it extensively, and kept you steady. You looked up at her quizzically. "Other things like what?"

She grinned wickedly before pulling you up into her arms, one arm under yours and the other under your knees.

"You'll see, princess," she assured.

In her brutish style, Yara kicked open the door to her quarter's. The soldiers remaining on deck went absolutely silent, staring at the two of you with both terrified and amused expressions.

Yara coughed loudly and you buried your face into her shoulder to hide your embarrassment.

"If you gentleman will excuse me, me and the lady are going to retire for the night."

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wez-star · 6 months

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《 .~°☆°~. 》

masterlist

Request: open

Heyy,

This is a blog for the girlies and the they/thems only! So if you're a MALE (or minor) leave please.

Who i plan to write about:

-wednesday addams (j.o)

-cersei lannister

-rhaenyra targaryen

-daenerys targaryen

-alicent hightower

-yara greyjoy

-rosa diaz

-eivor varinsdottir(wolf-kissed)

-yelena belova (?)

-wanda maximoff

-maria hill

+more

I will probs mostly write x fem! Reader

Most stories will be smutt

That's all byee.

《.~°☆°~.》

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hopelesswritergall · 1 year

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Preference how you call them!

A/N: you can request other characters here aswell. Please let me know who you want to see in here!!

John Snow

You call him pretty boy, cause well he is a pretty boy.

Robb Stark

You call him my king. The name stuck when you called him that in a meeting and well it just became his name

Sansa Stark

You call her baby, a classic. After everything she went through you called her baby as a comforting name but it just became her pet name.

Theon Greyjoy

You call hin my Prince. Even when he is a ward of Ned Stark he is still Prince Theon Greyjoy

Yara Greyjoy

You call her my queen. She is your queen and no one else's. Or sometimes my Captain on ship or in the sheets.....

#game of thrones imagines #game of thrones #game of thrones preferences #sansa stark #sansa stark x reader #john snow #john snow x reader #robb stark #robb stark x reader #theon greyjoy #theon greyjoy x reader #asha greyjoy #asha greyjoy x reader #yara greyjoy #yara greyjoy x reader

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tinfairies · 1 year

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Yara Greyjoy NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Yara is sweet and caring, whether the sex was rough or not. Ever the gentleman she is, she will bring you water and a damp cloth. Yara will clean you up and get you comfortable, then hold you to her as though you'll be stolen in the night.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yara's hands have accomplished a lot, they've given her the reputation of a great warrior as well as a ladies woman. She'd also say her strap is her favorite part of herself, but that doesn't count.

On her partner she's quite fond of their tits, but also a fan of their ass. Yara has a bad habit of groping or pinching these parts in public just to illicit a reaction from her lover.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

She makes it her goal to make her lover squirt, whether she's fucking them with her fingers, or strap, or even tongue.

Yara makes her lover cum several times before she even thinks about truly pleasing herself.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When she was younger she used to have wet dreams of being seduced by a mermaid. She still secretly hopes the creatures are real, and horny. She will never tell a soul about that though.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Yara has quite the reputation with women, mostly good things. She's been with everyone from noble ladies, to peasants to whores. Yara isn't picky and she's definitely girl obsessed.

Has a fascination with being a woman's first lesbian experience. She likes to blow their minds and make their first times memorable.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

With her strap, she likes to bend her lover over or put them in a mating press.

If she doesn't have her toys or her lover doesn't want them, she likes to have her lover on their back as she rubs their cunts together.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

She can be whatever her lover wants. She is fond of giggly soft sex, but if her partner isn't radiating that energy she tones it down.

If Yara's lover seems nervous she absolutely will pull out the jokes and ease the tension.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

She honestly doesn't care about grooming. She trims down there to be more comfortable but could care less about how it looks.

She has the same sentiment about her partners body hair. Yara thinks if it was unnatural it wouldn't be there.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

She's full of passion, no matter the partner. Even if it's a raunchy night of whoring or sex with an established partner. Yara loves passion.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Yara will get herself off if she has too, usually when she's too busy to go find a hookup or her partner. She doesn't typically get desperate though, and is good at just staving off her arousal.

Takes her time when she does touch herself however. She knows what she likes and will please herself for hours if she has the time.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

On her: Praise, scratching, biting, knife play, blood play, roleplay, bondage, impact play, breath play, body worship, toys.

On her partner: Praise, scratching, biting, knife play, blood play, roleplay, bondage, impact play, breath play, body worship, toys, breath play, choking, degradation

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The bedroom, inn, captains chambers on her ship. Anywhere that's mostly private and offers the opportunity to take her time.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Yara is no better than a man. Bare tits and cunt will heat her up quick. Especially loves it when a lover acts innocent while bending over and showing themselves off.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Aside from the obvious there's not much she isn't willing to at least try.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

As much as she loves to receive, she loves to give even more. Yara's tongue is amazing, she can spend all night lapping at her partners cunt until they cum at least 5 times.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood of the evening. She's quite good at being rough or gentle, and doesn't have much of a preference.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Prefers to take her time with her lover, but if they don't have any she is willing to have a quickie. Making sure that they'll come back for more.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Loves trying new things, and likes the adrenaline rush of risky behavior.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Yara has almost too much energy, she can go for as long as her lover can stand it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

A big advocate for toys, owns loads and knows how to use each one. Of course if her partner is hesitant on using them Yara can always please them the old fashioned way.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Huge fucking tease, always groping and fondling her lover. Making suggestive comments, whispering filth into their ear. Likes to rile them up before just leaving them like that.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Yara likes to have no restrictions on sound, she enjoys letting her partner know how good they feel whether through words or moans. If she has to be quiet, she can.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Wants to have a ship run only by women, on one hand she wants the empowerment of having an only female ship. But on the other she can't help but fantasize about the wild sex she could have all over the boat with multiple women.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Her cunt is small, and pale like the rest of her. Her outer lips cover her insides, you'd have to spread her apart to get a good look at her. Yara's clit is small as well.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

She has good control on her urges, and knows how to keep herself calm. She can still get going at any point however, she's always ready for sex.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Yara prefers to hold her lover after sex, if she's able to stay. Talking with them and rubbing their sore body, she could fall asleep like that every night if she could.

#game of thrones headcanon #game of thrones headcanons #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #got imagine #got headcanons #got x reader #Got #yara greyjoy #Yara Greyjoy x reader #asha greyjoy #Smut #Headcanons

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2braincellslz · 1 year

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ebaylee422 · 1 year

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Characters

Stranger Things (the heart of my blog):

Character(s) X Reader/OC or the Ship. All other characters for other formats, I will reject any requests for any kids in a SMUT request. It is a privileged for cannon adult only. Fluff/Angst/Smut/Headcanon

Steve Harrington

Billy Hargrove

Eddie Munson

Robin Buckley

Steddie, Steddie X Reader

Harringrove, Harringrove X Reader

Mungrove, Mungrove X Reader

Ronance

A Court of Thorns and Roses+ :

Character X Reader/OC, I will take considerations for other characters but it might be biased. Fluff/Angst/Smut/Headcanons.

Cassian

Nesta

Lucien

Feyre X Rhysand X Reader

Azriel, and Azriel X Rhysand’s Sister

Game of Thrones/ House of the Dragon:

Character X Reader/OC only

Daenerys Targaryen

Jon Snow

Robb Stark

Daario Naharis

Yara Greyjoy

Jaime Lannister

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen

Cregan Stark

Random!

Leon S. Kennedy, from Resident Evil 4 Remake

Merlin or Arthur, from BBC Merlin

Potentially Marvel Characters or Harry Potter characters (depending)

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megsironthrone · 6 months

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More Than Any Throne

Based on this request: may i request a ramsay bolton x targaryen! reader? they are opposites since she is fire and he is ice and she is kind while he is well.. ramsay. he comes to essos to request her help in conquering the north (much like yara came to daenerys) and they end up ruling side by side, and ramsay doesn’t anticipate it but he actually loves her more than the throne?

Here you are! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Warnings: None??

Pairings/Characters: Ramsay Bolton x fem!Targaryen reader

Ramsay stared up at you as you sat on your throne. For a queen of fire, you regarded him with such an icy expression it almost made him shiver. "I have heard of you, Lord Bolton. Of your betrayal of the Starks and the Greyjoys. I have heard of the murder of your father by your hand. Word of your horrible deeds has spread far and wide. I see no reason to trust you, especially not enough to form an alliance."

Ramsay knew he had to say something and quickly before you had his head. He was nothing if not quick-witted. "Queen Y/N, I too have heard of you. Tales of your kindness and compassion have reached far across the Great Sea to Westeros. I know my reputation. Even if I should gain the Iron Throne, the people would not accept me. I would be assassinated the moment the crown was on my head." You arched a brow.

"You aren't exactly helping your case, Lord Bolton. Flattery may work on my sister and most definitely would have worked on my brother, but I am not them. Why should I not let you return to Westeros for your, most likely, inevitable assassination then cross the sea to take the throne for myself?"

"Because then the people of Westeros would believe that you too are cruel. What sort of queen allows a potential ally to run to his death when she could stop it? That is what the people would say. Together, we could rule side-by-side. You would be returned to your rightful home as the true heir to the Iron Throne and the people would love you. And you can sway them in my favor as well. If the kind Targaryen queen could love the ruthless, mad dog Lord Bolton, there must be some good in him. They would accept and follow us both as their rulers. But I cannot-" Ramsay cut himself off for a moment. He hated sounding so weak, but he needed to do this. "I cannot do this alone. I need someone like you by my side."

You let out a huff. "Prostrating yourself before me does not suit the 'Mad Dog', Lord Bolton. Once again, your words of flattery mean nothing to me." Ramsay felt himself growing frustrated. You were supposed to be swayed by him, but you weren't. You showed nothing toward him except amusement.

It grew quiet in the hall as your Hand whispered in your ear. You hummed and nodded slightly. For a few moments, you watched him as Ramsay grew more and more irate. It was becoming difficult to keep his temper in check. After a while, you hummed again. "You've amused me, Lord Bolton. That's not an easy feat. I will consider your proposition and inform you of my decision in the morning. You are free to explore Essos, with an escort, of course. Or you may choose to retire to the chambers I keep for visiting nobility. Until morning." With that, you stood and swept from the room, leaving Ramsay utterly confused and, maybe a little bit impressed.

The next morning, Ramsay entered the dining hall to find you already waiting for him. He bowed to you and you smiled at him. "Lord Bolton," you greeted with a warmth that had been missing the day before. Once again, Ramsay was utterly confounded by you. You sipped your drink before speaking again as Ramsay sat down. "Though your proposal was…ridiculous, to say the least, I accept." Ramsay blinked stupidly for a moment.

"What?"

"I will sail to Westeros with you and rule, as equals, by your side." Ramsay began to smile, but you continued, "Know this, however. If you betray me in any way, I will destroy you. Bear in mind that my sister is not the only Targaryen with dragons. My reputation may be one of kindness and compassion, but I will answer betrayal and harm with ruin." This time, Ramsay did smile.

*time skip*

Ramsay glanced at you across the table as you broke your fast together one morning. The stress of ruling over Westeros had done nothing but enhance your beauty. If possible, you had grown more confident, stronger, and intelligent since coming over from Essos. You lead the people compassionately and held Ramsay's temper back whenever possible. People respected you and feared him and the dragons. It worked well for you and Ramsay, to his surprise, found himself caring more for you than for the throne he'd fought for.

"You're staring, Husband," you stated, hardly looking up from the scroll in front of you. "Am I not allowed to look at my wife? My queen?" You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "I am only your wife and queen because you wanted the throne and knew there was no other way to get it. So either you're forming some devious plan, or you've come to the realization that you've fallen in love with me."

Ramsay blinked in surprise. The man had prided himself on keeping any and all emotions under wraps. Did he love you? He had his throne, but would he give it up for you? Yes. In a heartbeat, he would. Did that mean he, for the first time in his life, was actually in love?

A soft laugh from you broke Ramsay from his thoughts. He looked at you again. "Did you think you were hiding? Ramsay, my darling, you forget that I have been able to see right through you from the moment we met." You pushed your chair back and rose to your feet. As you passed by Ramsay, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "There is nothing wrong with admitting that you're in love, Ramsay." You squeezed him lightly before moving to leave the room. Ramsay stood and turned to watch you leave. "Oh, and Ramsay?" you called over your shoulder, "I love you too." Ramsay stood still for a moment as his brain processed what you'd said. Once he snapped out of it, he was instantly running after you, intent on spending the rest of the day getting you to ignore your duties and spend time with him.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @line-viper @cd1242 @frozenhuntress67 @smalltownbigheart @gruffle1 @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

#game of thrones #george r.r. martin #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay x reader

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axelsagewrites · 1 year

Note

I was think threesome with Ellaria Sand and Yara Greyjoy...don't know if that would be ok tho.

Ellaria and Yara*Company

Pairing: Ellaria x Yara x Targaryen!reader Platonic: Daenerys x sister!reader

Warnings: smut, f!receiving oral, fingering, nipple play, hickeys, slight degradation, dom Yara/Ellaria 18+

Word count: 3447

Summary: Yara and Ellaria decide to give the reader some company before the depart for Sun spear

A/N: I accept all requests so pls dont worry :)

Masterlist Here

While many men were threatened by your sisters claim you were surprised by the amount of powerful women in Westeros ready to back her. though the tales you had been told of its current queen could help explain why. Daenerys had always defended you growing up, fighting with your brother when he tried to sell you off after her and eventually having him killed. She always made sure you had her most trusted guards stationed outside your bedroom and would burn the world around you to keep you warm. You still remember the proud face she wore when your road Viserion for the first time.

Now you joined her in Dragonstone and sat in on her small council meetings. While you weren’t an expert in battle plans or ship strategies you were her heir and moral compass. She needed you to be on her side not for the war but for her sanity and her moral compass.

You listened to how even the women started to almost lecture your sister. “If you want the iron throne, take it!” Yara Greyjoy began her rant of brute force tactics. When you first met her, and you knew she would be stubborn and commanding. While you privately found this endearing it frustrated your sister who did not want to rule over ashes. You smiled as she discussed ships and soldiers. As if there weren’t three dragons who would win the war in an instant if you both agreed to it.

Tyrion knew this well from your sisters’ lengthy talks with him and pointed it out to the Iron Islander. Then the Dornish one spoke up. “It’s called war. If you don’t have the stomach for it scurry back into hiding,” Ellaria spat. You had heard a lot about her since her arrival. Watching her lover be murdered in front of her. a true tragedy. However, you were told she was just as passionate even before that.

As you learned about her you learned of the customs in Dorne as well. Men and women and women and women and men and men or sometimes many of each. Your sister had tried to protect you from the Dothraki ways, but the Dornes had a certain appeal to them. Despite her words Ellaria was beautiful in a way that left you so stunned you couldn’t even speak up. Your sister had to when Ellaria and Tyrion’s fight continued too long. you knew Ellaria’s sharp tongue should make you grimace or argue but it caused a strange light feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Daenerys approached the table as she began to discuss further with the council she had formed and rested her hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Your silence was unusual to her, but she did not realise its cause. As they discussed war plans your eyes kept flickering to where the most beautiful, sharp witted, women you had met stood beside each other. An unlikely pair you thought but so attractive that it made your breath catch in its throat.

The only thing that broke your admiration was Tyrion’s next plan, “Lady Greyjoy will escort you home to sun spear,” your eyes snapped back to where Tyrion moved the wooden figures across the board, and you suddenly stopped the frown that had fallen on your face. It was so brief, half a moment if that, but when your eyes glanced to Yara you saw a smirk play on her lips, her eyes glued to you.

You had sunk slightly in your chair under her unwavering gaze, trying so hard not to blush or meet her eyes. Then she spoke, “Perhaps the princess should come with us,” Yara said causing your sisters hand to leave your shoulder and turn to Yara, “So she can wait out in the safety of Dorne,”

“No. She does not leave my side. I will not have it,” Daenerys said coldly, “She is safe with me,”

“I assure you your grace she would be treated very well in Dorne,” Ellaria said, her eyes flicking to you with what looked like a warm smile, but her eyes were filled with something else.

“My sister stays with me, in Dragonstone, or by my side. Always. Understood?” Daenerys said and the women nodded, their eyes trained on you, “Good. Now Tyrion continue,”

When the council meeting ended Daenerys asked Olena to stay to speak but held you back for a moment as well, “Don’t worry sweet sister. I will protect you. you are safe here you must not worry,” she said as she held your hands.

You smiled at her words, “I know Danny. I’m not worried,” you assured her.

“You just don’t seem yourself. What’s on your mind?”

“Perhaps we should discuss that later?” you asked, nodded your head towards where the Tyrell was still sat waiting expectantly.

Danny smiled and squeezed your hands before letting go, “I’ll find you before bed. Get some rest,”

When you left the chamber, you did not expect to see anyone else in the corridor, but Ellaria was outside of the door, leaning against the wall. She perked up when she saw you, “Princess,” She smiled as she pushed herself off the wall, “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,”

“I don’t believe so,” you nodded, your head down as you tried to conceal your flush, “I’m just heading to my chambers im afraid,”

“I’ll walk you,” She smirked as she linked her arm with you and began to drag you away.

A hot flush crept over your neck as you said a quiet thank you. she walked with such grace and elegance that it was almost as if she was floating. “So, tell me about yourself,” Ellaria told you as she placed her hand over yours. You shivered at her touch; her skin as soft as silk.

“I’m afraid there’s too much to tell,” you blushed.

“Good thing im an excellent listener. When we get to your chambers, I can send someone to get a bottle of my finest Dornish red for us and you can tell me everything,” You knew you should not trust her or anyone for that matter, but her offer was so alluring that all you could do was nod.

When you arrived at your chamber, she told one of your men to fetch the wine then made herself comfortable as she sat on your bed, holding your hand loosely and bringing you to rest beside her. your eyes darted to the floor as you followed her silent command, but they were brought back to meet hers when she stroked a stand of hair out of your face. Her touch lingered and you felt yourself lean into it before she returned her hand to her side, “You are such an exquisite beauty,” her voice was low though and caused a warm tingling feeling across your skin.

“Not as pretty as you,” you tried to be confident, but your skin was hot.

Ellaria smiled at your words and bit back a chuckle, “Oh how sweet you are princess,” she said before you fell into a silence as you stared into her eyes. Your body felt pulled to her and hers yours as she began to lean in, her lips ghosting over yours.

Then someone knocked on the door. Ellaria didn’t break eye contact when she replied, “Come in,” her lips brushing over yours as they spoke.

Your eyes turned to the door where Yara stood leaning against the doorway with a smirk on her face, “Princess im shocked,” she teased as she sauntered into the room, “I thought I would’ve at least got an invite,” You blushed at her words, stuttering for a response when your guard appeared with the Dornish red that had been sent for. Yara took it off the man, “You can go,” she told him before closing the door behind him.

Ellaria moved closer to you as Yara approached but her lips had moved back, and you yearned for their return. “How can we help you Greyjoy?” she asked as her eyes trailed over the woman holding her wine hostage.

“I don’t know what’s finer,” Yara said as she ignored Ellaria and grabbed a spare cup off your nightstand. “Dornish wine or their women,” Yara said as she filled the cup and raised it slightly in Ellaria’s direction. The Dornish women let out a soft chuckle at her antics. “Though of course your grace neither are as fine as you,”

“At least there is something we can agree on,” Ellaria leaned in, so her hot breath fell onto your ear causing you to shiver.

Yara held the cup out to you and your fingers brushed against hers when you reached for it, “You are both far to kind. I don’t want to take up anyone’s time,” you stammered out before drinking half the cup in one go for some kind of courage. The wine was so sweet that it made you wonder what the Dornish lips tasted like.

Both women chuckled at your blush. Ellaria took the cup from your hand and took a sip for herself, “I have all the time in the world for you, your grace,”

“As do I,” Yara said as she refilled the cup, but her eyes were solely on you, “Surely you must get lonely. I hear you have never been wed,”

“Not yet,” you murmured as their eyes burned into your skin, “No suitable man has come up yet,”

“No man will ever be suitable,” Ellaria’s hand moved to rest on your thigh causing your breath to catch in your throat. You felt your skin tingle as she dragged her hand up your thigh to rest on your hip, “Not for someone of your beauty,”

“Trust me my princess,” Yara said as she leaned down onto on knee in front of you, taking your chin into your hand, “The company of women is far more…rewarding than that of men,”

“I-,”

You tried to talk but Ellaria used a finger to turn your head to face her as Yara’s hand fell away to rest on your knee, her thumb rubbing circles over your dress. “Have you enjoyed anyone’s company yet my sweet?” you shook your head at her words, “It would be an honour to share your company princess,”

“The highest of honours indeed,” Yara agreed as she leaned up from where she kneeled in front of you, her lips hovering over your breasts, “Tell us sweet princess. Would you like company this evening? Stress relief is important in times of war,” her fingers trailed over the neckline of your dress.

“I suppose I have been stressed recently,”

Ellaria tutted as she moved to kneel behind you, her hands going to your shoulders, “Stress is no good for you my dear,” she said as she swept your hair to the side and placed a kiss behind your ear. You shivered at her touch but leaned back into her, “Let us help you unwind. Would you like that?” you felt her nose gently run along the skin of your neck and you craved her lips again.

“Please,” you almost whimpered under their light touches.

“Who are we to deny the princess,” Yara said as her hands fell to move under your skirts, pushing them up your legs so her hand could rest on your bare thighs.

Ellaria’s lips began to leave open kisses to your neck, her tongue running over your skin and causing you to melt into her touch. She brought her hands down to begin squeezing your chest causing your nipples to harden. All while Yara placed her own kisses on your skin, starting at first on your knee before trailing up your inner thighs to you under clothes. Her fingers dug deep into your thighs and the pain and pleasure caused you to let out small moans and whimpers. “You sound so pretty,” Ellaria praised.

Yara began to kiss and suck on one bit of your thigh as she left deep purple marks into your skin, “So fucking pretty,” she agreed before soothing to spot with her tongue before adding another. “Tell me princess,” she asked as she pulled away from your flesh, “Have you ever touched yourself?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared down at the Islander who refused to break eye contact with you, “She asked you a question sweetheart,” Ellaria’s fingers had found your nipples and pinched them at your silence.

You gasped at the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut when she began to softly twist them, “Yes,” you confessed in a moan causing Ellaria to chuckle.

“How naughty of you princess,” Yara grinned as her hands moved up your thigh, closer to your admittingly wet pussy. “I’m sure I could do it better though,”

“Prove it,” you stuttered before moaning again when Ellaria put her lips back on your neck.

Yara chuckled at your attempt to be bold, “Your gonna regret that,” she smirked as she pulled your underclothes off, “Look how wet you already are. How pathetic,” she grinned as she trailed a finger up your wet fold causing you to gasp. Yara put the finger in her mouth to taste your juices. The way she moaned made your stomach flutter, “Better than the wine,”

Yara began to press kisses to the tops of your inner thighs, her face brushing against your core as she moved. You whined at the feeling. “So impatient,” Ellaria purred. Yara placed one last kiss to your thigh before turning to where you needed her most. She trailed her tongue up your slit causing a loud moan to fall from your throat. “She likes that,” Ellaria chuckled as she pulled her lips away.

“Good,” Yara smirked before her tongue descended back onto your wet cunt, licking long stripes up your wetness. She brought your legs over her shoulders, her hands gripping your thighs so tight you knew there would be marks tomorrow but you didn’t care as her tongue dived into you.

Ellaria turned your head sideways to face her as she crashed her lips onto yours. You moaned into the kiss as she continued to squeeze one nipple, the other hand holding your jaw in place. Her tongue began to glide over your lip causing you to open more to let her in, something she gladly did.

Meanwhile Yara’s tongue trailed further up to began making sloppy circles over your clit. The new sensation and your moan caused you to pull back from Ellaria’s kiss which only made her grip your jaw tighter before slamming her lips onto yours.

A warm feeling was bubbling in your stomach as the sensations overtook your body. Yara brought one of her hands to replace her tongue at your whole, two fingers diving in and curling inside you with expertise. You whimpered into the kiss. Ellaria pulled her lips off you and began leaving sloppy kisses on your neck, her tongue trailing over your skin. Her hands pulled the top of your dress down, revealing your breasts fully which she began to squeeze.

Almost as if perfectly timed Yara began to suck on your clit as Ellaria squeezed your nipples, twisting them gently as she did. Your body tensed before releasing all the pressure built inside as you came on Yara’s tongue which did not stop moving until you slumped back into Ellaria’s arms. “You were so good for us,” She praised as she pressed a kiss to your head.

“But you’re not done,” Yara said as she stood up, her knees probably aching from how long she was between your thighs. “Get up,” you did as you were told as Ellaria shot Yara a questioning look. Yara took her hand and raised her from the bed. She turned back to you and took your face into her hands “You’re going to ride her face while I suck on those pretty tits of yours,” she said before clashing her lips onto yours.

Her kiss was harsh and desperate as she began to pull the dress off your body. Ellaria pressed herself behind you, placing kisses to your neck as her hand reached round your front in between yours and Yara’s body. Her hand moved to between your legs, rubbing her fingers expertly around your clit. “Fuck,” you whined as you separated the kiss.

“You don’t get to cum again just yet,” Ellaria said as she removed her hands from your body. Her hands moved to untie the strings of her dress, letting it pool to the floors beside yours. “Come with me princess,” she said as she took your hand and led you to the bed.

Ellaria eyes gazed into yours as she lay back on the bed, pulling you to kneel above her. “What if I hurt you?” you asked causing the other two to laugh.

“You won’t,” she assured you, her hands resting on your legs, but you were still hesitant, “If I need you to stop, I’ll double tap your thighs my sweet,”

“Okay,” you said as you shuffled up slightly, your body now above her chest. “Do I just uh- “you stuttered which made Ellaria smile and Yara laugh.

Yara knelt behind you and grabbed your hips forcing you to shuffle up. Your core was probably soaking from what had just happened to it. You felt Ellaria’s sweet breath fan over it. Yara pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, “Let yourself enjoy it princess,” Yara told you.

Slowly you sank down onto Ellaria’s face, her hands moving to grip your thighs and pull you down more. You gasped as her tongue licked up your slit, her nose nuzzling against your core. You felt Yara shuffling behind you before she took her place on her knees in front of you of the bed. Her hand went to the back of your neck and pulled you in to crash her lips onto yours.

You whimpered when Ellaria’s tongue began to dive into you, curling against your walls. Yara smirked into the kiss as her hands moved to grab your breasts. Her hands were much rougher than Ellaria as was her grip which made you moan more. However, her hands soon moved to grab your ass, sinking her fingers into the flesh before delivering a quick spank to one cheek. You gasped which broke the kiss but soon chased her lips again as her hand ran over the red mark to sooth it.

One of her hands found your hips to make you grind against Ellaria’s face. This made her nose nuzzle deeper into your clit making the same pressure as before building up all over again. Yara’s other hand went to your breast, grabbing it hard before her fingers began to toy with your nipple. Her lips fell from yours to capture the other nipple with her wet kisses. Your moans rang out in the chamber as Yara’s teeth grazed your sensitive bud.

The pressure was almost painful as the pair continued their assault on your most sensitive areas. You felt your body tighten and Ellaria pulled your thighs down further as your hips tried to buck away. “Please im gonna- “you beg was interrupted by a gasp as Yara pinched your nipple.

She released the other with a pop as she pressed a wet kiss to your lips, “Let go princess,” she told you and suddenly the knot in your stomach unleashed as you came hard from Ellaria’s tongue and Yara’s hand. A moan ripped through your throat as your body spasmed above her.

Ellaria’s grip on your thighs relinquished and before you could fall on her Yara grabbed your shoulders to pull you to lay on the bed. “Fuck,” you gasped as you stared up at the ceiling dazed.

Soon the two women were laying on each of your side, Yara’s hand stroking your thigh as she placed sweet kisses to your cheeks. Ellaria began to play with your hair, leaving her own kiss on your forehead, “You were magnificent,” she praised.

The three of you continued your fun before retiring in a heap under the blankets. You were half out of it when you heard your chamber door creak open. Your head lazily turned to the side before your eyes quickly widened when you met your sisters gaze. Danny stood, her jaw dropped and eyes wide before she quickly composed herself, “This is not what I meant by rest,” she said, her voice low when she noticed your two new friends were softly snoring.

“Sorry?” you offered with a sheepish smile.

“Its okay,” Danny said with a chuckle, “I guess I’ll have to start knocking,”

A/N: First time writing wlw smut one shot so hope I did it justice. It was also my first time writing a three some so two in one lol

#yara greyjoy smut #yara greyjoy imagine #yara greyjoy #ellaria sand #ellaria sand imagine #ellaria sand smut #ellaria sand x reader #ellaria sand x yara greyjoy #yara greyjoy x ellaria sand #yara greyjoy x reader #game of thrones smut #game of thrones show #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #requested #wlw

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a-libra-writes · 1 year

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Uuugghhh i misclicked and deleted a post i was working on......... I still remember the prompt but 💀😫 OG request was ASOIAF characters reacting to their s/o surviving an assassination attempt, another nonny wanted something similar, so I combined!

Obvs there will be mentions of blood, angst, and so on! We got: Cersei, Jaime, Tywin, Tyrion, Asha (Yara), Victarion, Brandon, Ned, Benjen, Brynden, Oberyn, Doran, Brienne

Cersei - Woe to the messenger who brings this news to her; the only thing worse about Cersei finding out is her finding out days after it happens. She's livid, and has no shortage of people to blame and suspect. The idea that this attempt is the consequence of her own machinations and manipulations does not to occur to her, or at least - she quickly shoves that thought aside.

She has her sick room moved closer to her own, and threatens the hell out of Pycelle to ensure a speedy recovery. The maids are threatened as well, though eventually Cersei's paranoia whittles them down to just one or two. She visits when you're awake, and either fusses over your comfort or doggedly acts as though everything is fine and you'll be up in no time - even if you're still sickly and wan. Yes, there's ... some denial there, and in rare moments, the facade and denial will melt, and Cersei will express genuine fear that you may have died.

Jaime - There's several minute of disbelief when he hears what happened. Then the anger rushes over him at once - who did it? And where was he to defend you? Then suspicion. Could his sister have found out about you two? Jaime ought to wait until it's safe to visit you, when he can't be seen - but he's never been good at fighting his whims.

Once at your side, he's clearly anxious and discomforted at how tired and sickly you look. His usual flippant, sarcastic front only lasts a few minutes. He gives in, his shoulders slump and you can see the clear anxiety and anger in his bright green eyes. He comes into your chambers every other day, but you aren't aware how often he hovers around the door and hall, eager for the assassin to come again so he might kill them with his own hands.

Tywin - Any attempt on your life was almost certainly meant to send a message to him. That's how he'll always see it, anyway, and Tywin will answer swiftly. He'll probably mutilate or execute your poor excuses for guards, and the maester understands your recovery will go well or he'll be next on the chopping block. Next, he draws up his mental lists of suspects and cuts through them. Tywin Lannister will find out who did this. There's no uncertainty of that.

That said, he doesn't visit the first few days of your recovery - both because of the investigating he's spending late hours on, and because he genuinely doesn't want to see you in such a weak, uneasy state. He isn't willing to admit this to himself, of course, but it brings back memories of Joanna. He'd be more affected if you were stabbed versus if you were poisoned; the blood, the bandages, your pale complexion and low energy all point to the very obvious fact you nearly died, and that would have affected the normally immovable, cruel Lannister patriarch. He doesn't like reminders that he's mortal.

Tyrion - Panic and dread starts bubbling up once he hears the news and really processes it. Tyrion wants to see you right away, even if you're in no state to see visitors for a while. He already has a shortlist of possible culprits, his sister being at the top. He makes sure it's a maester he trusts whose helping your recovery, one of your personal maids he knows whose caring for you, a few guards he pays personally and knows well ... It may seem like a bit much to you, but for Tyrion, it isn't enough. He's still riddled with anxiety and worry that whoever did it will send another assassin to finish the job.

He does his best to be reassuring and light-hearted when he visits, not wanting to trouble you with all the thoughts plaguing him. He likes to bring flowers and books and such, things to brighten your day and occupy you. Tyrion tries to float the idea of moving you to a private manor rather than the Red Keep.

Asha - She's alternating between a quiet fury and outright anger, snapping at this maester and that servant to handle you better. She might push them aside and just do it herself; she can certainly stitch a wound closed, though poison is beyond her. Oh, she has a good idea of who might have done this, but that's for later. First priority is getting your guts back in place and making sure there's some kind of medicine or disinfectant in these islands.

She investigates into who the culprit might be, but still takes time to visit you in the evening. She knows you'll pull through, you're strong - but what kind of lover would she be if she didn't check in and bother you? Asha alternates between a rare tenderness and her usual light heartened jokes, whichever works best on cheering you up.

Victarion - So. The good news is he didn't kill the messenger. The bad news is he's close to strangling the maester that was dragged in to treat you. Victarion has no way of figuring out who did this or how, so anyone is open to his wrath. He might eventually have suspicions, but it'll be his brothers and Asha who will do most of the investigating (if they bother). This rattles Victarion more than he's willing to admit.

It's difficult to visit when you're incoherent and pale, so he waits until you're more stable, even if all these negative emotions bite at him. There's anxiety, fear, powerlessness; all things he's worked to avoid and outrun. He probably doesn't even admit how badly he'd shaken. When you're finally awake and talking, that lessens some of the burden. Then he can pretend you're completely fine, and you'll recover quickly. He doesn't want to linger in the sickroom, so he just has you moved to your shared bedchambers. .... Probably for the best, since they get cleaned more often.

Brandon - He's beside himself with anger and worry. How did this happen? Weren't his best guards with you? Who was the culprit - was this a ploy to get to him? Intrigue is not his strong suit; he can't bruteforce his way through this, and it's beyond frustrating - it's just painful. He wants a culprit so he has someone to throttle.

Brandon makes sure you're as comfortable. He may not know much about treating wounds, but he knows you're in pain and wants to help in any way he can. This leads to him hovering too much, and the maester has had to kick him out so you can get rest. You're supposed to be recovering in the sickroom, but Brandon still wants to sleep next to you. It's half paranoia that something might happen again, and half he doesn't want you to be lonely. Yes, he's the actual lonely one ...

Ned - It takes a few hours, perhaps a day, for the reality of what happened to sink in ... and then the dread and anger follows. He keeps these emotions inside, of course, wanting to focus on who could have done this and why. Was it because of his own doing, or was this assassin after you specifically? He's never been one to uncover and follow schemes, and that shortcoming is especially obvious and frustrating now.

But when he visits your sickbed, Ned tries to push all that aside. He wants to make sure you're recovering and cared for, and while he follows the maester's instructions, he's also willing to go against them for your comfort, like if you want to be moved to back to your shared bedchambers. It's hard for Ned to deny you anything to begin with, he is absolutely going to let you curl up with him because it helps you feel better and safer, wounds be damned.

Benjen - The solemnity that comes over his long face startles his fellow Brothers. Of course this is no laughing matter, but the dark cloud that passes over his features and makes those grey eyes look so cold is startling. He wants to go beyond the Wall immediately and kill whoever did it, but he knows that's foolish. He has to grit his teeth and wait, because they'll surely send more.

He focuses on taking care of you. While they do have Maester Aemond, the old man's eyes make it tricky to do any kind of surgery. When you're awake and recovering, Benjen does his best to give you his soft smiles and usual jokes, though they're more muted than before. He hopes you don't notice how tired and anxious he's feeling. He tries to avoid assignments that'll send him away from Castle Black, and he sneaks into your sick room to sleep beside you whenever he can get away with it.

Brynden - The very cowardice of the act boils his blood. Whoever wanted to do this to you should have gone through him - he hates that he wasn't there when you needed him. Hasn't Brynden always said he'd protect you? If the attempt was done with poison, he's even more bitter. It's easy to get you the care you need, but he's still troubled, sitting at your bedside and wearing a troubled expression that doesn't go away until you wake up.

He tries to smile and comfort you, but his anger at the situation is obvious. When he's not out investigating what happened, he's at your side. He's keeping you company and playing "a poor nurse", so he says, but you know it's also to keep you protected. He comes in with full armor and his sword, after all. You sense he isn't sleeping well, either; he'd rather spend the late hours guarding you as you sleep.

Oberyn - It's not surprising that he reacts with anger. Oberyn would've been right there at your side, wanting to stop the bleeding himself, carrying you all the way to the maester while barking at guards to sweep the area. He'd go out on his own in a heartbeat, but assuring you're stable comes first. The minute you were, though - he's gone, spear in hand and wanting to find out what happened. Between himself and Doran, the assassin - or at least whoever hired them - can't stay anonymous for long.

While you're recovering, he does all he can for you. Do you want a dozen pillows, plenty of flowers, books, music? Company or none? Any food or drink - even if the maester cautions against specific ones - will be your's. Oberyn spares no expense, the guilt and anger he feels at "letting" this happen assuaged just slightly every time he grants a request. He prefers you be moved to your shared bedchambers rather than a sick room, both so he can protect you and so you don't feel so isolated.

Doran - His schooled, calm expression finally cracks when he hears the news. He wants to get up at once, to rush to the messenger and shake them, but he has to compose himself. Doran knows these things happen, and he already has clear suspicions of whose responsible, but that doesn't help his racing mind. He waits until the maester has done his job and you're stable before visiting you - for one, he has to calm himself, and two, he has to act fast if he hopes to retaliate.

Doran makes sure you have the utmost comfort while you recover, much like his brother, though he's not nearly as over-indulgent. He often spends time with you in your sickroom, reading you stories or just talking while holding your hand and petting your hair. He has a wonderful bedside manner helped by his steady presence and voice; it's near impossible to pick up the anger and injustice he's feeling. He doesn't want to subject his paramour to that. You should just focus on resting.

Brienne - She feels a terrible chill come over her, and then the adrenaline. She jumps to action. If the assassin is foolish enough to attempt it while Brienne is within shouting distance - they're dead, period, she will not let them escape after they did such a thing. But if it was poison, or a near-fatal wound - she may have to just to get you help. She gathers you up in her arms and easily carries you to help, shouting for a maester or healer, regardless of it was the middle of the night or day. She'll drag one out of a castle if need be.

Brienne wants to sit in while you're being treated, but she knows she shouldn't. She's stewing in anxiety and worry, wondering if she could've done something differently. Once you're awake and stable, it's like a weight has been lifted off. She still has plans for the assassin if they weren't caught - but first, she needs to focus on you. The adrenaline finally runs out once she hears your voice and has your hand to hold. She's so relieved she could just crash next to you, but no, you need her to be steady and strong.

#yes this also means it deleted what i had written sdJFDJSFS #siiiiighhhhhhhhh!#anyway i feel like ive done this before but.... maybe not?? i dont think i ever published it?#cersei lannister x reader #jaime lannister x reader #tywin lannister x reader #tyrion lannister x reader #asha greyjoy x reader #victarion greyjoy x reader #brandon stark x reader #ned stark x reader #benjen stark x reader #brynden tully x reader #oberyn martell x reader #doran martell x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #yara greyjoy x reader

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queerfics · 1 month

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(Smut/Drabble) Is It Casual Now? CisF! Reader x Yara Greyjoy

Summary: Y/N, a member of Yara's crew and longtime fling, finds herself struggling to face the reality of the Ironborn serving a Targaryen tyrant, especially after Yara's confession.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST! It's horny but it's sad. Oral sex, f/f, lesbianism (but that's a blessing), angsty sex, sad sex, crying

A/N: YES the title is based off of Casual by Chappell Roan. Every time I listen to it I can't help but imagine something angsty with Yara.

NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT

The boat crashing against the rage of the sea only slammed your hips farther onto Yara's fingers as you struggled to keep yourself upright. Her hips worked some to hold you in place on top of the crate you sat upon, but still you tethered yourself on a rope hanging from the ceiling of the steerage.

Your moans were partially washed out by the creaking of the boat and partially by the way she smothered your lips in her own, and when she groaned back into you, your hand dropped and wrapped around her neck, deepening the kiss in a clash of teeth and tongue.

This wasn't unusual for the two of you. You'd been the only female member of her crew for quite some time, and like any of the men on board, you two preferred to find solace in the arms of a woman. It had never been anything serious, and it had always been something kept mostly private. Yara loved good company, but with a member of her crew could put her authority in jeopardy.

However, there was something unusual about the way Yara's mouth wandered to your neck. There was something entirely unusual about the way that she, rather than a simple bite on the shoulder to stifle her own noises, worked a deliberate mark right at the base of your jaw. In all three years of your little secret, Yara had never made such intentions present.

This new sensation pulled little gasps from you that floated right to Yara's spine, sending a shiver down it, so she continued placing her claim at the base of your throat, in the dip of your neck, under your ear, creating bruises that eventually washed to the other side of your throat as well.

Her fingers pumped ferociously inside of you, carelessly bruising every sweet spot like it was her last moments on this earth. When you cried out against her, she cooed into your ear so sweetly that you couldn't even form the words to tell her to stop (not that you would want to).

"Are you going to cum for me, sweetheart?" She whispered into your ear, and you shuddered, letting out a breathy laugh.

"N-no," you said, knowing it was the complete opposite of the truth. It was impossible for you to not to, especially when you knew she could feel the way you pulsed around her fingers, the way you gushed into her palm with every push, and the twitch of your thighs with every gentle curl.

"I don't think so," you murmured, letting a teasing smile slip.

Yara shook her head, chuckling and digging her fingers into a particular spot that had you almost jumping out of your seat. She watched, lips parted as your head fell back against the wall of the ship and your eyes fought not to squeeze shut.

"Your cunt is telling me a different story," she growled. She pressed her hand into your lower stomach, building another toe-curling pressure inside you as she held you in place. She kissed you sweetly after you let out a small cry, then sank to her knees.

You watched as Yara turned her focus to mouth at your clit, the vulnerability in her kneeling not slipping past you. The admiration in her eyes, the intensity of her passion - these things did not go unnoticed, and you felt your eyes begin to water. Tingles worked their way up your shoulder, and your ears rang as she pulled moan after moan from you. Your fingers dug into the crate, and you looked down at her with flushed cheeks.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but every other beat pulled a painful chord in your chest, and Yara could feel the way you began to choke up. Her hand slipped down to rub your thigh affectionately, but you instinctively grabbed it, interlacing your fingers.

Your eyes began to burn and blur as salty tears slipped down your rosy cheeks, and Yara squeezed your hand, watching the way you rested your other hand over your forehead, too mixed up between the climaxing pleasure and your longing heart to stay still.

"Yara," you whimpered out, "I'm, I'm-" But you couldn't get it out. It was all too much, the banging in your chest, the way Yara's fingers opened you up as easily as two flower petals, the way she made out with your sex like it was the love of her life, the way she had made it obvious to anyone who looked at you for the next week what had happened, and how they would know exactly who did it--

-- if you made it to the end of the week.

Tensions were high in all parts of the world, and the recent alliance between the Iron Islands and Daenerys Stormborn had completed changed the basis of the Ironborn way of life, and every member of the fleet in particular was feeling the effects of it.

Being pulled so far away from home, losing friends and family members too far from the sea to even retrieve them, and now you were following the trail of the dead with Yara to meet the queen who had started all of this, who had threatened and reconstructed an ancient way of life.

"What do you mean you don't want to go?" Yara stuttered, looking at you in disbelief. "That's not your decision to make, Y/N."

You stood on the other side of the room, running your hands through your hair. Your fight had echoed through the halls of Pyke until Yara had had enough and pulled you into a private room, but even now, passerby stopped to listen in.

It wasn't that you were a particularly disobedient soldier. You had always trusted Yara with your life, obeyed every command, even if that meant returning to her drenched in blood and void of emotion. She was your Captain, your Queen, and you had promised your life to her.

"Why are you serving her?" You exclaimed, throwing your hands up. "She's not even Ironborn, and you've known her for all but a few weeks, and now you've bent the knee?"

"Y/N," Yara stepped forward cautiously, but you waved her off, stepping back. She could feel the heat radiating off of you, feel the anger ripping at the air, threatening the foundation of this offhand non-commitment commitment you had to each other.

"No, Yara!" You exclaimed, "I won't go off to die in the middle of some fucking sea-less dessert for some woman I've never met!"

"She is the Dragon Queen!" Yara argued back, slowly letting her own temper slip from her. "She is the breaker of chains! She will bring no harm to the islands - you know I would not allow that."

You turned to her, eyes burning with rage, and met her face.

"Oh, but you have so willingly sacrificed everything the Ironborn stand for and everything we are for her!" You screamed. Yara stared fiercely down at you, though she did not respond. "And for what? What do we receive in return?"

Still, Yara said nothing. This irritated you even further, so you went further, going so far as to push Yara back. She let you, still quiet.

"You cannot kill another Ironborn, so what, you've taken to dragging us far away and drowning us all in her name?" You hissed. "What has she promised you? Or are you truly just so wound up in some foreign woman's cunt you would erase everything we have worked for?"

You went to push her again, but Yara grabbed on to your wrists. She dragged you forward, bringing you until you were so close you thought she might kiss you if it weren't for the circumstances.

For a long moment, you stared at each other, rage stirring and boiling at the very sight of each other, at the implications you had grown to believe about each other during this fight.

Then, Yara opened her mouth.

Nothing came out at first, simply a few stuttered breaths, then a glance away. And though you had quite a few times before worked Yara up to the point of chosen silence, never had you rendered Yara speechless.

Then, she looked back down at you, and swallowed thickly. Her expression had changed, twisted into a much more somber one.

"If I die out there," she whispered, "I cannot die without you."

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ravensinthedaylight · 1 year

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City of Ash - Daenerys Targaryen x Daughter!Reader

Request(ed by @violetromanova): i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not right now (so if not i’m really sorry pls ignore this) but i had an idea for a daenerys targaryen x daughter fic where her daughter is there at kings landing and is so afraid and horrified by what happened that she struggles to be around her mum, and you can take it from there i think, i have no clue what should happen next,

Notes: For the sake of the fic Rhaegal never died lol, I also made some minor adjustments to the plot.

Summary: You struggle to look at your mother, Daenerys, after the burning of King's Landing.

Reader's Age: 13

masterlist (Got)

You didn't know what to think as you rode over the burning city.

Parts of King's Landing had been reduced to ash, it had only been two hours after the initial attack and your mother had finally given the go for you to be brought to the city.

The city that she had just conquered. the city whose people she had just cold heartily burned.

Even from high up, on top of Rhaegal, you could hear the screams and cries of the people. Your people. Your mother's people.

The more you looked the more tears flowed from your eyes.

Your mother couldn't have done this. Not the woman who had given birth to you and raised you even though your father, Beltar Celtigar, had died in battle in Essos before you were even born. Not your sweet, kind, fair, and honest Muña.

At first, you had told yourself that she had just lost control of Drogon. But the further you road with Rhaegal the more you realised that that wasn't possible. Drogon didn't have such a blood lust, Drogon was as loyal to Daenerys as you were, even at the age of three and ten you remain one of the people who are most loyal to your mother.

You knew that your loyalty probably didn't mean as much as that of Yara Greyjoy and the Tyrells, but your mother had been insistent that you were the person who mattered most.

As you neared the Red Keep you began to see the castle, or at least what was left of it.

Most of it was just a pile of stone. You didn't see how this could be rebuilt within just a few years.

It had taken your ancestors decades to build the Red Keep and now look at it.

You could hear the pitiful noises coming from Rhaegal. He seemed to share your grief.

You knew that the cries of the women and children would haunt you for years to come, and the images of the burning buildings and castle would forever be engraved in your brain.

The cries were so loud, so very loud, you could hear them so well despite being so far up above.

Rhaegal seemed to slow down, and stayed flapping his wings in the same spot.

When he stopped moving forward you could see everything. The full scale of the destruction caused.

You found it hard to breathe.

Daenerys had once promised that she would never attack King's Landing. She had said that she was not here to be Queen of the ashes.

But then what was this? What was she doing?

She had gone back on everything that she had ever said.

You were happy that Jorah and Missandei weren't here to see this, to see what your mother had done.

Because now, as much as you wanted to deny it, you knew that your mother had done this.

Your mother had shown no mercy.

She destroyed King's Landing.

There were no other words for it.

I'm sorry. You thought as you looked down to the flames that were no doubt burning thousands of innocent civilians this very second. I'm so very sorry.

The army of Unsullied stood in rows in front of the steps to what was previously the castle.

You had wiped your tears from your face, refusing to show her your tears. You had the feeling that this would be a different woman than the Daenerys Targaryen who you had said goodbye to just a few moons ago.

You didn't know what she would do to you.

Rhaegal let out a roar, landing in front of the steps.

As you dismounted, you felt a shiver up your spine.

It was freezing, even the furs that were wrapped around your shoulders didn't do much for the cold.

It was rarely this cold in Essos. You missed Mareen. You wanted desperately to return there. The atmosphere was happy there, and the people were treated with a kind yet fair hand.

You missed the warmth of the weather and flying the dragons alongside your mother. Of course, you were too young to ride by yourself back then, it was just the two of you on Drogon as Viserion and Rhaegal flew nearby.

You had made friends in Mareen. Here you were all alone.

You petted Rhaegal's scales and patted his head, signaling for him to stay.

You looked up. Daenerys Targaryen stood at the top of the steps, Greyworm to her side, and Drogon was perched on a nearby ruin watching over the army of both unsullied and Dothraki.

The Dothraki made room for you as you went to climb the first step of many up to meet your mother at the top.

With each and every step your heart rate increased, and you caught sight of the familiar silver hair that you had inherited from her, you refused to meet her eyes, you were afraid of what you would see in them.

But you saw her hand, a hand that was outstretched to you. Your heart was filled with hope.

You wanted to reach your own handout and touch hers, to feel her familiar warmth, but then the sound of the wailing children, mothers, and widows filled your ears and your yearning was quenched.

You saw her smile, the same smile which had made it a priority to tuck you in every night. The same smile that had been used after freeing the slaves from their masters back in Essos. Bile threatened to surge up your throat over the fact that that very smile was being used right at this moment, right after she had done this.

But no matter what you avoided the eyes, you didn't want to see her eyes. What if they were the same as before? In many ways, you knew that that would make you feel even more sick and horrified, for you felt nobody could commit such a heinous act and still be able to look at their child the same.

You were halfway to the top and the only sounds to be heard were the sounds of your footsteps, the wind, and the crying of the civilians. You didn't know which sounds were more deafening to your ears.

Daenerys hand was still outstretched, but as you got higher up, the more you looked to the nearest step in front of you.

When you finally reached the top you still refused to meet her eyes, she was - in what your mind perceived - stalking toward you. You felt like the prey. You didn't feel safe.

She ignored your flinch as she grabbed onto your shoulder softly, whether she noticed it or not you weren't sure.

"Oh, my sweetest love." She whispered lovingly as she pulled you closer and eventually into an embrace.

You were tense in her arms. You felt even sicker as she caressed the silver curls that cascaded down your back.

Your arms were pinned to the side, while your mother's arms were around your shoulders.'

You refused to give in to the affection.

"You missed my speech." She hummed, placing kisses to your head.

You said nothing, you were cracking, like when your mother's glass vase back in Braavos cracked when one of the baby dragons accidentally knocked it over.

"I hope you had a safe flight."

You forcefully pushed her off of you, breaking the embrace and making her gasp in anguish, in the corner of your eye you could see some Dothraki shift where they stood and Drogon's gaze sharpened.

Daenerys looked hurt and... confused... which irked you greatly.

"Sweetling?"

You promised yourself you wouldn't look in the eyes, you promised, but you couldn't stop yourself.

Her eyes were the same.

And you felt hurt everywhere. You felt betrayed even though it wasn't you she had betrayed.

Despite your promises not to cry you let out a distressed sob as you tried to turn away. Thousands of eyes were upon you, but you failed to care very much. For every eye that was on you another ten people were left burned by Dragonfire.

Daenerys put her hand on your shoulder and guided you away from the scene, knowing that this was a conversation to be had privately.

"Shh, shh, shh." She tried to tell you, but you just tried to pull your arm out of hers, but Daenerys wasn't having it, she wouldn't let go, which made you cry out more. "It's just me, Y/N. It's Muña." She said softly.

"Let me go, please." You cried, Daenerys finally did as she was told, releasing her hold on your arm.

You protectively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"What have you done." You whispered brokenly. "How could you have done such a thing."

Daenerys stared at you and her gaze faltered. "I did what was necessary. I did it for us."

You stared at your mother and took a step back.

"The city surrendered. It surrendered and you still killed thousands!" You spat. "You won, gods be dammed you won! Have you been down there? Have you seen- heard what I've heard, children, women, babies, innocent civilians are dead, you slaughtered them like sheep." You sobbed.

"You overcame Euron's fleet, you annihilated the Golden Company, you eliminated all the city's defenses, Cersei surrendered and you still killed them!"

Daenerys thought for a few seconds, she needed to gather her words. "I needed them to know not to mess with us, to never endanger my dragons, my army, my reign, my kingdom, and most importantly you."

You laughed bitterly. "Them? Who's them? The tens of thousands you have just slaughtered? Don't you understand that the start of your reign is now marked with the bloodshed of innocents?"

"I needed to make sure you would always be safe."

"You think I feel safe now?!" You cried out, bringing your hands up to your face. "You think I feel safe around you?!"

Daenerys looked hurt for just a split second, she goes to pull them away from your face, and you kept going.

"You've just murdered Lord Tyrion's family, you really think he'll stay loyal to you?" You snarked.

"I've granted him Casterly Rock." She responded dryly. You scoffed.

"If someone murdered me would you take Dragonstone and leave it at that?"

"You are not Cercei! And you already know the answer to that, Cercei was a tyrant and Tyrion understood that. Nobody will ever harm you, I've already told you. I've just guaranteed that." You could tell she was getting fed up with your comments.

You shook your head in disbelief, how did she think that this was ok?

"Do you even feel sorrow? Even just a little bit?"

You desperately wanted her to say yes, you desperately wanted to believe that what she did was truly necessary.

"I did what I needed to do, sweetling."

You looked down, you couldn't look at her, not right now. You didn't think that you would ever look at her the same.

"I'm sorry I scared you."

A new round of angry tears came to your eyes. She may have scared you, but that's not what was wrong here.

Your mother could sense your anger by the way you clenched your fists and how your eyelids started to squeeze tightly.

She placed a hand on each side of your face, making you flinch harshly, something that shocked her. Her hands felt as cold as her words, but the main reason you didn't want her to touch you, the reason being clear to both of you.

"Look." She uttered, adjusting your head so that you were facing the Iron Throne. "That's mine now. This is all mine now, the seven kingdoms and soon it will even be beyond that. And when I'm gone this will be yours."

You shivered. You didn't want this.

You were happy in Essos. You wanted to go back to Essos.

You didn't want a throne, you didn't want the titles, you just wanted your mother. You wanted her how she was.

You thought of the stories Viserys would tell to you before his death. The story of King Jaeharys was always your favorite, coming to the throne after Maegor the cruel had finally passed.

You wondered if you would have a similar story, as you didn't know if that was the last of your mother's ruthless slaughters.

"You should have grown up in the Red Keep." Daenerys whispered. "I should have too."

Her hands felt warm again.

"Even though neither of us has been here before, this has always been our home, this has always been where we belonged, My dragon. So welcome home."

You wanted to cry again. You were finding it so easy to forgive her, even though you knew she didn't deserve it, you had never met the people of King's Landing before, but you still felt as though you were betraying them.

"I don't ever want you contradicting me again, am I understood?"

You go to open your mouth, but no words left it.

"At least not like that. I'm your mother, you're but a hatchling. I can understand that you're slightly shaken, and I'm sorry for that, but we have finally reached our goal. You're confused, I know that, sweetling. You're so young and confusion is natural." Daenerys fingers traced your cheek soothingly. "But we need to be strong, especially now. Can you be strong for me?"

You nodded, you didn't even know what you were nodding to, you just knew that somewhere deep down you would always be desperate to please her.

"Thank you." She spoke with such love and adoration. "Now come here, please."

The second you were taken into another warm hug sobs wracked your petite frame.

"There, there, I know my love. Don't fret, I'll take care of everything."

You hated that she was so warm. You hated that you still craved nothing but her love after what she had done here, the number of people she killed. It made you sick to your stomach

"Muña." You whimpered. "Please don't do anything like that again."

Daenerys didn't respond.

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