#game of thrones oneshot

[thebadboyfanclub]

Don’t Say It (Tywin x Reader)

I know I disappeared for a little but I hit a writers block with this one, I think it’s due to exhaustion over me working full time so I hope @thanyatargaryen forgives me if this wasn’t what you intended. Enjoy

Olenna Tyrell was a legend, she had learned the rules by heart and was now on a mission to pass them down to her wonderful granddaughters, the beautiful rose that listened to the name of Margaery and the bewitching siren that could stop a man with a simple song, the young (y/n).

Olenna was no fool, she recognized that the two girls were her strongest soldiers, with these two alone she could rule all of Westeros, well at least all the men which was the same thing.

“Today is an important day, even for you dearest, the wedding of your sister to the king means every eligible lord from all of the seven kingdoms will be attending”

“I am well aware, you do not have to worry about me, grandmother”

(Y/n) reassured olenna whilst her handmaidens assisted her with the finest dress anyone had ever seen, it was her first time at court she needed to look her best, (y/n) squeezed into a dress that was custom made, her hair had taken hours and was brushed to perfection and she smelled of the finest of fragrance oils that were brought from Dorne, it is safe to say that (y/n) couldn’t have looked nor smelled better.

Everyone’s breath hitched at their throats when (y/n) walked with the confidence only a Tyrell could possess, she strutted up to her big sister to wrap her arms around Margaery with clear endearment.

“Congratulations, my queen”

“Oh come on now stop with that”

“I know this is a blessed day for the king but could he be so kind and hear a plea I have for him?”

“Anything for my good sister”

“Look after my dear Marge, as she has done for me”

(Y/n)s voice was as sweet as strawberry cakes and her smile could stop a man dead in his tracks, the young Tyrell leaned on her big sister pressing her chin on Margaerys shoulder whilst the bride leaned her head close to (y/n) as well, the girls shared a strong bond, it was the first time that they would be separated ever since (y/n) was born.

What they did not know was that a certain someone had already his blue set of eyes on the lovely Tyrell who seemed so blatantly unaware of it all, Tywin had sworn to never remarry, no one would ever be as good as his dearest Joanna, she was the one that knew him like the back of her hand, the lady that could wrap her arms around the vicious lion and make him swoon, if she saw him now she would laugh at him, she always told him “never say never my love, you won’t know what the future holds for you”.

“You have your queen and your alliance now, I hope you are happy”

“Naturally, Margaery will serve the realm greatly”

“Soon enough she will start popping out lions, hopefully, my little (y/n) will have better luck”

“What could be better than becoming the queen mother?”

“Becoming the lady wife of a lord that cares for your well-being and happiness”

Tywin grew silent, there was nothing he could say against the allegations of Jeffrey’s cruel nature, he could only hope that Margaery was cunning enough to outsmart him which honestly was not going to be much of a huddle, all the times that Joffrey has been able to be sadistic was owed to other peoples stupidity to either allow him or cover for him.

“Well then let me take a good look at this girl you have such expectations for, lady (y/n)”

Tywin called for the girl whilst he stood a few feet away from the newlyweds, (y/n)s eyes finally found his, and Tywin felt his chest grow tight, the girl was a dream, a dream he often had but could never speak of due to him always believing it will be just that… a silly dream of a widower.

“Lord Tywin, I can imagine this day is probably one of the happiest for your house, correct me if I am wrong but house Tyrell has never wed a Lannister prior to this moment”

“Indeed, let this be a fruitful union for both of our houses, your grandmother has spoken quite highly of you”

“Oh do not listen to her, it is a grandmother's nature to always speak for her grandchildren in the best light”

“Nonsense, Garlan is utterly nice which makes him boring and Loras likes to imagine being a young day twirling in a dress on the garden field, I had lost all hope up until you and your sister were born, the true soldiers of the Tyrell’s”

(Y/n) smiled sweetly before she leaned to place a kiss on her grandmother's cheek, (y/n) and Margaery was well trained, they had sat on the table and played against the best of players only to come out victorious, now Margaery was queen and (y/n) was ready to score her alliance that would bring nothing but glory to her and her family.

“Lady olenna is a lot of things but she is not soft nor does she hide behind her finger, if she says you are her best card then I truly believe it”

Olenna noticed the graciousness in the old lions' words, she picked up on the scanning look that started from her toes and ended on the top of her head, (y/n) did not even have a hair out of place, she placed her hand over her heart as a sign of vulnerability and her smile became brighter in gratitude.

“You are utmost kind, my lord, it is not every day a lady gets to be complimented by the warden of Casterly Rock and the hand of the king, I consider myself lucky for that”

“Luck has nothing to do with it, above it all I am a man that favors honesty and that is what you are receiving”

“I shall go before your words get all in my head, it was an honor to meet you, my lord”

(Y/n) went to curtsy before she was interrupted by Tywin that instead of letting her, reached for her hand and then placed his other one on top of hers, a smirk still evident on his lips as his eyes pierced through her, yet he was left with nothing, (y/n) had always prevailed under the hawking looks of men, she was well aware that she could not budge whatsoever.

“I will see you later Grandmother”

“Of course little flower, go on now, have some fun for me”

Olenna kissed the top of the lady’s head lovingly, it was not a secret that olenna doted on her especially now that it was her turn to marry, she had to bite her lip when it came to Margaery since her son had already bargained her for a sweet deal of a crown, she must do right by (y/n).

Once the lady was far away enough Olenna turned her head towards Tywin who was still following the enchanting Tyrell with his gaze, the way she walked, talked, even her breathing was perfect, his thumb traced over his fingertips, recalling how soft and warm he skin felt against his touch.

“I know that look”

“Pardon?”

“You are planning something”

“I always am”

“If you are scheming to betroth my precious flower to another lion, I must admit I would rather it be you than that little son of yours, in truth I would rather for her to stay away from lions but an old lion is better than Tyrion”

-

The news of Tywins betrothal hit everyone in kings landing like a ton of bricks. Joffrey was dead, Margaery was technically the dowager queen, and the crown was getting weak by the moment.

(Y/n) had become her sister's shadow, some applauded her compassion and how she was present at all hours to console her sister, what they did not know was that Olenna was already moving the strings for Margaery to marry Tommen, the young, kind boy who could never hurt a fly, however, Olenna had ensured both of the girls now once and for all, what better way to do that than to mess with Tywins head?

“Lady olenna, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I am here to propose another marriage between my house and yours”

“That is no surprise, I am to expect you wish to betroth Margaery to Tommen?”

“No, no my dear Margaery has been through way too much”

“Loras is still to marry Cersei, is there a change in that betrothal?”

“Unfortunately that mess of a wedlock is still going steady, I am concerned over my (y/n)”

Tywin had been too occupied with writing to look up at olenna up until now, his ears perked up at the sound of her name, the girl with the bright smile and the scary resemblance to a shadow of the past.

“What do you wish to suggest?”

“My (y/n) is sweet, kind, and full of life, I believe Tommen would treat her as delicate as she deserves to be treated”

“Tommen? You want to put (y/n) by the new king's side?”

“Tommen is a good boy, nothing like Joffrey, I have taken notice of how Tommen smiles at her, no man could ever deny my beloved granddaughter, I am convinced their reign will be prosperous”

“Mayhaps, although I do not believe Tommen should be the one to marry (y/n)”

“Who else could stand the weight of the crown? Tommen is in much need of someone like (y/n), to keep him humble and gentle, show him what it is like to be loved”

That was what made tywins blood boil the most, the concept of (y/n) hugging Tommen, his grandson brushing (y/n)s hair, the lady creating a child out of Tommens semen, the image of her with a swollen belly whilst Tommen rubbed his hand over it made his skin crawl.

No, no he would never allow another man to be by her side on those milestones, he was graced by the gods with a second chance at love, how could he be a bystander to a marriage that would probably be terrific, although Tywin could never survive with the “what if” lingering on his mind.

“Because she is to marry me”

“Pardon?”

“I am to be betrothed to the lady (y/n), our marriage will take place the same day as Margaerys and Tommens, your Margaery will be queen, and lady (y/n) will become the lady of the rock”

“I would rather die than let my dearest become a second wife, your daughter will eat her alive once the news hit her ears”

“Are you afraid of Cersei?”

“I am petrified of the brass neck your daughter possesses, that woman thinks she can do whatever she pleases with no consequence”

“Cersei is my daughter, you have nothing to worry about she will not be allowed to harm your little girl, once (y/n) falls pregnant that child will become heir of Casterly Rock”

“What if she births a girl?”

“You and (y/n) along with Margaery will decide on her future, I will not partake or force my daughter to do anything”

“Your offer is dripping with syrup, but I will not accept, I gave you Loras and Margaery and now you dare to ask for more”

“If you do not consent to this then I shall announce a match of (y/n) and Ser Sandor Clegane, how does that sound?”

“Careful now, what you are suggesting is… grasping”

“Indeed, but I am feeling rather charitable so I grant you the day to decide, if I do not have an answer by the morrow then the sweet girl will be cloaked with a wonderful yellow flag”

Tywin was a man that proudly stood behind his every word, so as he walked out with a triumphed smirk on his lips he was too occupied with feeling his triumph to notice that olenna was also doing the same (y/n) was now the future lady of the rock and Margaery was to have a second chance to wear the crown.

“My lord”

(Y/n) interrupted his thoughts once she saw him, Tywin stopped swiftly before he could fall right onto her, she was waiting behind the door anxiously, her eyes gawked at the man as her cheeks grew rosy from the embarrassment of her clumsy nature.

“Lady (y/n), what seems to be so important that you could not wait in your chamber for your grandmother”

“She informed me about my betrothal, I apologize I was just so fidgety I wanted to know the second that it was settled”

“Are you in such a rush to marry that boy? I am concerned over your taste”

“Tommen is a wonderful person and the future king, any lady would be lucky to be his lady wife”

“So is it the promise of a crown that excites you? I can tell you wearing a piece of metal decorated with gems will not bring you any happiness”

“Pardon my intrusion but why are you so opposed to the fact of me marrying your grandson? I am highborn and have received the proper education, your house along with the Baratheon owe my family everything”

“It is not you that is not enough young lady”

Silence fell over them, Tywin had stumbled right on her trap and now he was as still as a grain of salt, only blinking at the girl that acted surprised over his suggestion that Tommen was the one that was short when he stood next to her, (y/n) bit her lip before she gazed down for a split second and then back up, she wanted to appear at a loss of words.

“I do not want to believe what my thoughts are suggesting”

“You are a fool if you don’t”

“Lord Tywin, you and I it- how could”

“I am too old for this game my dear, I have given your grandmother the rest of the day to decide and if I’m being frank I believe that luck is on my side, so I suggest you ran along and instruct the finest tailor to start on your gown, you must look as stunning as ever”

“I am fluttered, but I do not understand-“

“Listen to me dear, from that moment you smiled at me you have haunted every waking moment and I cannot seem to escape you even in the shackles of deep slumber, I am aware that I do not look like the young and beautiful knight in shining armor a maiden might expect to marry but I can you this promise right now, every other lady from east to west will be jealous of the luck you held when you marry me”

Lord Tywin once again made his exit thinking that he had the upper hand, if someone were to consider everything that has been done in this world wasn’t it always like this?

A man trotted away victorious while the woman stood and smiled proudly at herself, moving the strings without even the man realizing that she had very carefully placed the strings around his arms like a little puppet.

“My dearest girl, I was there at your birth and I took one good look at you and saw the moon and the stars in those eyes, I always knew you would be the brightest of them all”

Olenna informed (y/n) once she had walked into the office Tywin was in moments ago, Olenna wrapped her arms around her in the most loving manner and (y/n) responded with the same warmth.

“We have so much to plan, the future doesn’t wait for anyone”

-

“How could he ever do this to our family?”

“Who did what?”

“Do not play the fool with me Jaime I am sure you have heard of the vilest news, our father is to marry that little rat from Highgarden”

“One of them is a smirking whore and the other one is a rat? Well you certainly won’t have a good time in the palace once all of them marry into our family”

“How could be so calm at this time? Our son is dead, the other one is to marry Margaery and now our father betrayed us”

“Our father has been without a wife for over a decade Cersei, he is a highborn lord, anyone would have a good chunk of heirs from another wife by now”

In jaimes defense he has always attempted to take the logical side when Cersei went on her little paranoid rants over loyalty or whatever the case was at that time, however, this time he could not sit for hours and let her blabber.

Jaime did not even blink when his father told him about his betrothal, he is a kingsguard, and Tyrion is… well, Tyrion and Cersei have played her part in becoming queen though she could not inherit lannisport, every year he waited for his father to announce a marriage of alliance for himself and now it was finally time.

“This is despicable, they will tarnish our name”

“How will they do that exactly? (Y/n) will probably do her best at becoming pregnant which will install our name to live on which as you know is truly what our father cares about”

“Margaery is a manipulative little scum she will shred our Tommen to pieces”

“Tommen was tormented by Joffrey for years and you know it, if anything having some female tending to him will probably do wonders for his confidence”

“Of course as a man that is all you think about, I do not even know why I came to you over this matter, once again I am called to act by myself”

That is when Jaime had heard enough, very softly he rose from his seat and went over to his clearly disheveled sister, a kiss was laid on the center of her forehead all while his hands rubbed up and down to her forearms making her puff out a breath of relief from the comfort his touch brought to her.

“You will do nothing, Father has already announced his betrothal, if anyone even touched a hair from (y/n)s head he will not hesitate to demand its head to be served on a silver platter”

“Father is just being short sighed it is us that must act to save him”

“From what? Having his bed warm by a woman? Especially her, surely you are not that blind that you haven’t understood what he saw in her”

“Don’t say it”

“I know it feels like salt over the wound-“

“No, no”

“You must admit the resemblance is uncanny”

“Never!”

Cersei pushed him away harshly, tears welled up in her eyes and all of a sudden she was rudely pulled back to that day, the gods forsaken day that Cersei had to witness her mother laying in bed with blood staining her nightgown.

“That bitch is not our mother”

“She is not, though she looks like her”

Requests are open!

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[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

To Dream of Home | D. Targaryen

▹ Pairing: Daenerys Targaryen x Stark!Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff with mentioned Angst

▹ Words: ~2.5k

▹ Summary: A storm at Dragonstone brings you and Daenerys together and allows for confessions of love to slip.

▹ Note: I am very gay, that is all. My love for the Targaryen's has returned and y'all are gonna be sick of me.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

A storm raged on the island of Dragonstone. 

Charcoal skies were dappled with thick silver-black clouds that brought the heavy rains that shook the keep. Roaring thunder and electric blue lightning. Treacherous seas and a storm that could rival the vengeance of a god. The inhabitants of Dragonstone seemed acclimated to the severe weather.

You, however, were used to winter winds and thick snowfall. Not devastating rain and earth rattling thunder. Sleep eluded you which led you to where you were now. Locked away in a small room near your chambers, you made a makeshift altar upon your arrival to Dragonstone with your half-brother Jon.

“You spend an awful amount of time here.” 

The voice cut through the silence, an intrusion of your time of peace. Kneeled before the makeshift altar you’d created, a half dozen flickering candles illuminated the center of your face and carved shadows on the contours of it. Wordlessly, you finished the final verses of your prayer before lifting your lowered head and turning to face the intruder. 

At the doorway, not daring to cross into the room without permission, was Daenerys. Her hesitance to intrude was strange, seeing as Dragonstone was her keep you were a guest in.

Her hair was loose, waves cascading over her shoulder and down her back. The curls and creases left by her braids were the only reminders they’d been there. She wore dressing robes in hues of blue, embroidered flowers and designs following the curve of her body. She was beautiful in an ethereal kind of way. It was the type of beauty you half expected to be a facade, that one day you would wake to find Daenerys had only ever existed in your mind. 

“I find the prayer soothing,” you responded, slowly standing. Your legs were sore from kneeling on the hard stone too long. There was a crick in your neck that tinged painfully if you turned your head too far left or too far right. Yet you did your best to keep a grimace from your expression. The last thing you needed was Daenerys thinking it was her presence you found unpleasant and not the needling pain in your body. 

“Do you pray often?” She shifted her head, causing tendrils of silvery hair to move from over her shoulder to rest along her back. Violet eyes stared at you curiously, lips pursed in an almost grin. She hardly seemed to smile, the oppressive halls of Dragonstone mimicking the impending war for the Iron Throne. 

“I do, yet I do not believe the gods are listening,” you muttered the last part quietly, followed by a deep breath. 

You glanced towards the candles and the altar, recounting every moment you’d spent kneeling before ones just like it. The years had been unkind, the horrors only growing worse as the years passed. It had shaped you into the woman you were today, hardened by deaths you never should’ve witnessed. Yet there was a part of the ten-year-old girl that still lived within you, that believed the gods were listening and that if you prayed hard enough, they would grant your wishes. 

“I never did much praying as a child, my brother didn’t see the point.” Her eyes moved past you, staring at the makeshift altar. Lit by the dim light of the room, you could see a hint of melancholy that tinged her violet eyes blue. Your gaze lowered to the ground at the mention of her brother, her upbringing so different than yours had been.

Northerners were as harsh and cold as the winter winds they grew up in, but beneath all the cold, austere facades your family was as warm as the hearth in the great hall. You’d grown up with a family who loved and cared for you. Whispers of Viserys’ anger reached even the North, his grief twisted into madness. 

Both parties may have passed, but at least you had your family's love to hold onto during the darkest nights. Daenerys had no such thing. Nothing but the hope of reclaiming her family’s stolen valor as a light in the night. 

“If you want, we could pray together.” Her attention returned to you. “It may help you sleep through the storm.”

Daenerys pondered your offer for a moment before accepting with a single nod. She crossed the threshold into the room, her gown following her like a cloak. You returned to the kneeling position you were in before, Daenerys taking her place beside you. 

“Some people believe there are specific words you have to use, that then have to be said in a specific order or the gods won’t care. But I don’t believe that, I allow my feelings to guide my prayers. Perhaps that’s why the gods aren’t answering me, but I feel better that way.” 

Daenerys nodded, watching you with such attentive eyes you had to look away in fear of the flush that would appear on your face. “Do you say them out loud?”

“Sometimes, but mostly I just mentally recite them. It feels like it's my own secret that way.” There was a hint of coyness in your voice that made a smile appear on the corners of Daenerys’ lips. 

Silence fell over the room, only the roar of thunder and the patter of rain to be heard. The candles continued to burn, the wax melting and staining the stone flooring. There was a single window in the room, a flash of lightning filling it with pale blue light. Subconsciously, your eyes moved to Daenerys’ side profile. 

Her eyes were shut and her lips slightly parted. She looked so soft and innocent, and you wondered if this was who she could’ve stayed if not for the rebellion that harshened her worldview. What would she have become if she didn’t have to fight tooth and nail every moment of her life just to survive? The quiet of the room and the soft curves of her face allowed you to imagine just how different she may be in a different lifetime. 

Your eyes had lingered on her too long, you knew, but you couldn’t look away. Your heartbeat had sped up, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. She’d always made you feel giddy like a child, but now that there was no chaos to distract you. It was easier to hone in on the feelings she elicited from you. And perhaps you shouldn’t entertain them, but a small sliver of hope kept you holding on. 

The weight of your gaze must’ve been heavy because Daenerys lifted her closed eyes from the floor and met your gaze. Her expression was unreadable, but you could’ve sworn her eyes flickered to your lips before meeting your eyes. 

“What did you pray for?” The words fell from your tongue before you could consider how invasive they could be. But she didn’t seem offended, a small blossoming on her face as another streak of lightning filled the room. It made her skin glow, making her look even more otherworldly. 

“I prayed for home.”

Her answer sent a pang of sadness that was surely reflected in your eyes. She brought dragons back to the world and freed the slaves of Slaver’s Bay while uniting the Dothraki under one banner and making them cross the sea for the first time ever. So many fantastical acts were done because of her, it was easy to forget behind it all was just a scared girl. She could make herself of steel and ice, but underneath it all would always be flesh. 

“I pray for home as well,” you uttered. 

She raised a brow, non-verbally asking you to elaborate. Her expression was so attentive, like a sponge ready to soak up whatever information you may present to her.

How could you possibly ever deny her?

“I very much wish to return to the North. The short days and long nights, the air that was sharp with a bitter chill. Grey skies and white grounds. Snowflakes that fell into my mouth as Theon and Robb chased me to the edge of the woods. The sky was bleak and void of color, but the hearths in the Great Hall made light dance in the keep, mead keeping everyone warm and merry.”

The smile on your face was tinged with melancholia, the grief making your body lock up and freeze. Those days were long gone, and you could never return to them. That didn’t stop you from wishing for it, however.

To hope that one day you might wake up and find this had all been a terrible dream. Your mother and father were still alive, Robb was preparing to become Lord of Winterfell; Arya and Sansa would continue to bicker and Jon would join the Night’s Watch to make something of himself. Everything would be right and war wouldn’t cast a shadow far darker than that of the worst winter storms. 

But those were the wishes of a naive child, the life you were in is the life you’re stuck with. But perhaps in another lifetime, you got to live out every fantasy and forgotten dream.

“That sounds beautiful.”

Daenerys’ voice pulled you from your reminiscing, your eyes wandering back to hers.

“It was.” 

“And yet you left Winterfell to come here with your brother?” 

You swallowed thickly. Winterfell had become a bittersweet place. Walking the Great Hall felt as if you were in a haunted house. The ghosts of past memories lingered in every corner, the echoes of laughter you’d never hear again filling your head. The relief being home had brought you had been short-lived, the weight of the betrayal of Theon and the Bolton’s tainting it. 

Winterfell wasn’t home anymore. 

“I--” you stuttered, unsure of just how to put your feelings into words. How do you tell someone that your home doesn’t feel like home anymore? How do you explain everything you had fought for felt empty in the end? It didn’t lift your pain or mend the scars of the past years. Instead, it ripped over the scabs and left you bleeding in the snow. 

“I don’t know if Winterfell is my home anymore.”

Daenerys hummed, nodding her head. Her expression was solemn and in her eyes, you saw understanding. She knew all too well the conflicting sentiment of fighting for something you may not want in the end. 

“When I was a girl, Viserys and I lived in a house in Braavos with a red door and lemon tree outside my window. It was the closest thing to home I’d had.” 

Subtly, you scooted closer to Daenerys, eager to unravel more of her elusive past. She hardly spoke of her life with Viserys, most of the memories too painful to reminisce on. And maybe, just maybe, her vulnerability was a sign that your feelings weren’t so unrequited. 

“What was it like?” You prod for her to speak more on her time in Braavos, enraptured by the glimmer in her eyes. 

“It was a beautiful house and so large, at least it seemed large at the time. There was even a room with a wooden beam with animal faces carved in it. I had my own room and a window to peer outside. I’d sit there for hours, watching the sunrise and the sunset.”

Her hand rested on the floor, and tentatively, you reached over and placed your hand over hers. You half expected her to brush you off, but instead, she leaned closer to you. Shoulder to shoulder, you could smell the floral oils her hair had been washed with. 

“What happened to it?” 

She sighed, eyes wandering back to the altar. “Our patron passed and the servants sent us away. But even after all these years, I still long to return. To escape to the innocence of my youth.”

A beat of silence passed, Daenerys longing words hanging in the air. 

“We could always return.”

Daenerys turned, meeting your gaze. Inches separated your face from hers, and this close up, you could see the faint freckles that created constellations on her skin. 

“And if it’s no longer standing?” 

Your heart stuttered as you hesitated on your next words. It was now or never, the time to lay your cards on the table and learn if your hope was delusional. 

“We could build a new one with a lemon tree just outside the bedroom. I’m not much of a widdler, but I could try to carve new animal faces in the wooden beams in all the rooms.”

For a moment Daenerys doesn’t speak, doesn’t even seem to breathe. Her eyes are locked with yours, wide and unblinking. Nerves begin to create a thousand cuts in your mind, perhaps you’d been too forward in your confession. 

“And you would stay with me?”

She wanted to hear you say it, to verbalize you’d never leave her side, not willingly. 

“I’m not much for the heat, but I could learn to love it to never leave your side.”

She exhaled a small puff of air, a smile lighting up her face. The apples of her cheeks were rounded and rosy, violet eyes twinkling like the stars in the sky. The sudden impulse to run your fingers through her hair came over you. And you acted on it, gently carding your fingers through the silver-gold strands of hair. 

“Then perhaps we meet in the middle and build our house with the red door in a more temperate climate.” 

She leaned closer, the tips of your noses brushing. 

“We could make our home on the mountainside? It would leave plenty of room for the dragons,” you suggested. Daenerys smiled, the whisper of a laugh leaving her mouth. The sound was the sweetest melody you’d ever heard. You’d never wanted to stop hearing it. 

“And direwolves?” 

“Maybe one or two.” 

You cut off whatever Daenerys may have replied with, placing your lips against hers. The kiss was gentle as if to seal the promise you’d made. She smiled into it, her hands weaving themselves around your neck. You pulled her closer, practically pulling her into your lap; you’d wanted her as close as possible. To bask in the warmth radiating from her body and the softness of her skin under your fingertips. 

Perhaps things would’ve been different in another lifetime, where Daenerys got to be the princess she should’ve been and you the daughter of a very much alive Ned Stark. But perhaps in those lifetimes you and Daenerys would never be more than passing acquaintances. She'd be the princess of the kingdom and you the lady-daughter of the Warden of the North. 

This lifetime felt like trying to sail through a storm and Daenerys was the lighthouse guiding you to the shore. The death and loss had been painful, but it all led you to this moment with Daenerys. It nearly made the events of the past years worth it.

"Let's win this war so we can build our silly little house," you muttered against her lips, eliciting another laugh from Daenerys before she placed her lips on yours again.

You would give Daenerys her house with the red door and the lemon tree outside, no matter the cost.   

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen x reader #Daenerys Targaryen x Stark!reader #daenerys x fem!reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #got #got imagine #Daenerys targaryen x fem!reader #game of thrones oneshot #game of thrones fanfiction #Daenerys x Stark!reader

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

Robb Stark being protective would include...

first of all, this man is one of the most loyal men in all of Westeros

like, if you are his blood this man would literally walk to the ends of the earth to protect and defend you

robb also believes that sometimes the phrase 'blood is thicker than water' doesn't necessarily always apply

like if you are loyal to him and have been there for him as a friend or confidant, you best believe this man is going to die trying to protect you, even if it's against a member of his family

but now let's talk about protective robb with someone he was in love with because... wow

if you thought he was protective over his family, friends and people of Winterfell....

.......just wait until this man is in love

it would probably first only manifest in small, subtle ways if you weren't together yet

only little things that his family members would pick up on

like when he would try to inquire about what you've been doing

or whenever you would go to walk home at night Robb would conveniently be right beside you to offer to walk you home

because who knows who or what is wondering around in the dark?

catelyn would raise her eyebrows at and jon would try and hide his amusement

that would send arya and sansa into little giggling fits

luckily you would be blissfully unaware, just grateful for Robb's kindness

overtime it would escalate

you'd keep spotting Greywind prowling around you wherever you went

it was getting to the point that you were wondering if he was following you intentionally

there was one incident when you were walking home at night and robb was away on a hunting expedition and a group of men approached you

and Greywind appeared out of no where to bite the hand off the leader before he could rip your dress

robb literally having to hold himself back from destroying his room when he found out

when you told robb what had happened and had identified the men involved, they were never seen again

you didn't ask questions

whenever there was a feast at Winterfell, Robb's eyes would always find your figure, making sure that you were safe and having fun

and if there was dancing? well you best believe that Robb would always happen to be near you to offer to be your partner, only to be polite (of course)

you always wondering why no one else would ever ask you to dance, until one day you turn around just in time to see Robb starring literal daggers at one of his men about to approach you

at first you're upset, thinking that Robb doesn't see you as good enough for any of his men

"is it my status? my looks? what have I done for you to deem me so unworthy that you will not even let your men touch me?"

"unworthy? my men are the fucking unworthy ones. they're lucky they are even allowed to look at you."

a look of pure confusion would cross your face - you were always a bit slow when it came to romance

Robb would just chuckle and shake his head, "honestly love is it not obvious? I've been in love with you since the moment I fucking met you."

once you're together, oh boy

because while he was protective before, you're his now. Not in a controlling or possessive way but in a 'this is my wife and I would die a thousand times over if it means she lives' kind of way

all of winterfell knowing that you're a protected species

a diamond to be handled with the utmost care

Greywind becoming like your second shadow

which you don't mind but sometimes all you want is some peace and quiet and to be left alone

Robb knowing you can handle yourself but struggling to give you space because he knows how fucked up Westeros can be

because he has seen horrors that he prays you will never have to witness in your lifetime

trusting you completely, but the issue is he trusts no one else (apart from his family)

him having to learn to back off - slightly

always making sure he's standing between you and a doorway just incase soldiers come barging in

a hand always touching you whenever you're within arms reach

whenever he has to go away to fight it's always an internal struggle if he should bring you with him or leave you at home

because he doesn't want to drag you towards a war, but what happens if he leaves you at winterfell and isn't there to protect you?

defending you when catelyn makes some sort of insulting remark or comment

jon becoming just as protective of you because you're his brother's soulmate and robb has always been so good to him

which is really sweet but now you have Greywind and Ghost following after you all the time

which is really unnerving for some people

"do not worry about them, they do not bite.... much"

his enemies trying to get to you to get to Robb

the closest they ever got was an assassin trying to take you out on your morning ride

robb was usually not a cruel man but the rumours of what he had done to that assassin spread like wildfire around westeros

it became legend, myth, shrouded in fear and awe

very soon not even the most infamous and fearless assassins would dare go near you, much to cersei and tywin's frustration

not even littlefinger wanted to touch you

"I am afraid even I am not game enough to conjure up a plan to ruin this one, your grace."

oh and you know tyrion would be dying to meet you - the woman that turned the naive and probably too trusting Stark boy into a protective, ruthless leader. the woman who's sparked the fear in the hearts of the most soulless cunts in westeros? yeah he was a big fan

you being the only one who can calm robb down when he gets upset or enraged when someone tries to hurt you

sometimes you don't because sex with robb in protective mode is next level

always holding hands

forehead kisses

like, so so so many forehead kisses

if you were pregnant he would literally never stop touching your belly

he can be a little overbearing sometimes, but it makes you love him more for it

because you know that this man literally worships you and just wants to keep you safe

he tries his hardest to give you independence because at the end of the day he knows you are the strongest person he has ever met and can hold your own

this man would literally die a thousand deaths to keep you out of harms way because god damn it the villains of westeros have already taken away his father and he will be damned if they take you too

#robb stark #game of thrones #robb stark headcannons #game of thrones headcannons #robb stark imagine #robb stark oneshot #robb stark fanfiction #robb stark imagines #robb stark x reader #reader x robb stark #robb x reader #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones oneshot #game of thrones imagine #got #got imagine #got fanfiction #got imagines #got oneshot

[fandom-puff]

It's absolutely fine if you are not comfortable with it, but could I please request happy, tipsy sex with Tyrion Lannister? Preferably with an established relationship? Again no pressure if that doesn't work, thank you! xx

Thank you for your request- hope you enjoy!!

Tipsy

Pairing: Tyrion Lannister x reader

Warning: drunk sex (both Tyrion and reader are at the same level of tipsiness; neither is blackout drunk), alcohol consumption

Gif creds to owner

“More wine, my lady?”

You nodded and with a grin held out your goblet for Tyrion to fill, not moving until he had filled it to the brim, making Bronn laugh.

It had been a pleasant evening; a new shipment from Dorne had come into King’s Landing, and Tyrion had a few bottles of the finest Dornish red brought up to his chamber. Between you, him, Bronn and Podrick, you had cleared off nearly all of the bottles and the effects were beginning to show. Podrick was slumped in his chair, dozing with a small smile on his face, the occasional snore sounding from him. Bronn had started to slur and put a ‘fuck’ or a ‘cunt’ in every other sentence.

And you and Tyrion had been eye-fucking each other for the best part of an hour.

Tyrion drained his cup before setting it down. “Bronn, Podrick, leave us,” he said suddenly, his eyes never leaving yours.

Bronn kicked Pod’s leg. “Come on, lad. Else you’ll end up watching your Lord fuck his lady,”

Any other time you would’ve shot the sellsword an indignant look… but right now you had eyes only for your Lion of Lannister, but when the door slammed shut, it was you who pounced, your lips pressing to his in a feverish kiss.

“My, my, sweet YN,” Tyrion groaned between kisses. “It seems the Dornish gets you hot,”

You tugged on his lower lip, your fingers knotting in his hair, one hand trailing down to the straining bulge at the front of his breeches. “Should say the same for you, Husband,” you murmured, voice low and sultry, your hand closing around his cock. Tyrion watched with amusement and longing as you fumbled with the strings of his breeches, releasing his pulsing cock and taking it (albeit clumsily) into your mouth.

“YN,” he rasped, tugging at your hair until you released him with a lewd, wet noise. “I won’t last long in your pretty mouth,” you pouted up at him, your lips slightly swollen. “I’d much rather spill my seed in your tight little cunt,”

He laughed at how quickly your face brightened, and he pulled you up from the floor. You grinned, pushing him back on the plush couch, squealing as he reached up and tore the bodice of your dress, admiring the swell of your breasts as he tugged at the strings of your corset. Soon you were stripped bare, straddling him on the couch. He grasped at your thighs as you lowered yourself to his cock, his fingers fluttering through your wetness briefly. He grunted as his tip slid between your folds, before your plunged him deep inside you with a throaty moan.

“Gods,” he groaned as you rode his cock. “Oh, Gods,”

“Now’s not the time for prayer, my Lord,” you reminded him. “Unless, of course, you want to fuck me in the Great Sept of Baelor,”

Your words spurred Tyrion on, and he met your movements with thrusts of his own, and he relished in the way your eyelids fluttered. “Such-ah- blasphemy, my sweet wife,” Tyrion groaned, “wine turns you into quite the little harlot it seems,”

“Tyrion,” you moaned out, gripping onto his shoulders for leverage, and he smiled as he felt your movements stutter. “Tyrion, please,”

“Too focused on my cock to listen to me, Hmm?” Tyrion teased, pinching your nipple. “Come for me then, YN, let me feel you,”

You would’ve came with or without his bidding, your cunt fluttering around his thick cock as you cried his name, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his orgasm quickly following yours as he filled your clenching pussy with his seed. “Fuck, YN, good girl,” he praised, and as you fell forward onto his chest, he smiled, kissing the top of your head.

Clumsily, you managed to make it to bed (tripping over an empty bottle along the way) and into your Lion’s arms. Your head would ache on the morrow, but the ache in your thighs would be worth it.

#tyrion lannister #tyrion lannister one shot #tyrion Lannister x reader #tyrion Lannister imagine #tyrion Lannister x you #game of thrones smut #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones oneshot #game of thrones imagine

[wonderdustwriting]

Fluff Alphabet - Podrick

Activities – What are their favorite things to do with you? How do you spend your free time?

Podrick loves to spend his free time with you. Whether it's reading or signing together taking a stroll through the market. Podrick enjoys being in your company. He finds you easy-going and a calming presence to be around, which is why he likes interacting with you no matter the activity. Perhaps this is because, unlike so many of the other's in Westeros, you have no ulterior motive.

Boo! – How do they feel about surprises, giving and receiving?

Podrick likes to surprise you. He likes to watch your face light up when you see he's thinking about you. Podrick will surprise you with gifts that remind him of you. It could be a trinket or a flower or sometimes it's food. On the other hand,  Podrick does like receiving surprises. It shows him that you've thought about him when you're apart. Podrick never expects anything from anyone, so when he does receive anything, he's always appreciative. However, surprises from you are always going to be his favourite.

Comfort – How do they comfort you when you’re upset? When the tables turn, do they come to you, or try to handle it themselves?

Podrick is always great at comforting you. He knows what to say or how to cheer you up. He'll provide you with your favorite sweet treat, or he'll draw you a bath. He'll sit and listen to your concerns or worries. Podrick will always make time for you. In regards to his issues, Podrick will keep them to himself for some time because he doesn't want to bother you with his problems. However, when you ask if Podrick is well, then he would come clean about what's bothering him.

Dance – Do they like to dance with you? How good of a dancer are they?

Podrick is a decent dancer, and he does like to dance with you. It's a small moment of peace away from everyone else. Away from all the politics. Where everyone is constantly watching everyone. However, for that moment, it's just you and Podrick, and that's all that matters.

Excitement – How do they act when they’re excited? What excites them?

Podrick can't help but smile from ear to ear when he's excited. There's an extra bounce in his step as a heavy burden is not bringing him down, not today. Podrick appears more cheerful and overall in a good mood. Podrick tends to get excited about being praised by Lord Tyrion and the thought of seeing you after a long day. It's also a great day when nothing goes wrong.

Future – What are their plans for the future? Do they see themselves getting married, having kids?

Podrick never thought of marriage and having a family until he met you. As your relationship progresses, the more he begins to envision your future together. A home, maybe some eland, a couple of kids running about.  Podrick will always desire to give you the best life imaginable.

Gifts – What do they give you as presents? How often do they get you gifts?

Podrick likes to buy you gifts. He'll find the most random and thoughtful of objects that remind him of you, flowers, trinkets, your favorite sweet or savory treat. Podrick doesn't need a reason to buy you a gift, he'll pick things up as frequently as he can. It's just one of the ways Podrick likes to show his love for you.

Hold – How do they hold you? Cuddling, sleeping, holding hands…

Podrick likes to hold you. Whether. it's holding your hand while you're waiting through the street or pulling you into his lap, so the two of you can read together. The first time you share a bed, Podrick pinches himself several times to prove that he's not in the most glorious dream ever.

Ideal – What’s their ideal date like?

Podrick's ideal date would be taking a trip on horseback to the middle of a wooded area so the two of you could share something to eat and drink. All the while getting to know each other. It would be private enough away from prying eyes, just you, him and some good food.

Jealousy – Do they get jealous easily? How do they handle it?

Podrick is not a person who gets jealous easily. He's confident in the relationship the two of you have. However, even Podrick has his limits. He doesn't like anyone toching you. The moment anyone does that, Podrick immediately approaches the situation and wraps his arm around your shoulder to display that you're with him.

Kisses – How do they like to kiss you? How frequently do you kiss?

Podrick will kiss you as frequently as possible when you have privacy. He'll kiss you to say thank you, a kiss as a greeting. He'll pull you closer so you can get lost with one another. However, when you're in public, he's more likely to kiss you on the forehead or the cheek.

Love – How do they show you that they love you?

Everyone can tell how deeply in love with you Podrick is just by how he looks at you. It's the way when you enter a room, and his attention is immediately solely on you. The way he's always the perfect gentleman. The way he would gladly give you the world if you asked for it.

Melt – What do you do that absolutely makes them melt?

Podrick's heart melts when you care for him. Everything you do for him in his mind displays the seriousness of the relationship. When you write him little notes before he leaves each day, prepare his meals, and attend to his clothing. Those are just some of the things you do that he melts for.

Nicknames – What do they call you, and what are their favorite things to be called?

Podrick has a variation of Nicknames for you. Like Love, my heart, my sweet, my everything. Whereas for him, you tend to be more creative and related to moments you've shared.

Obvious – How obvious do they make it that they like you?

Podrick didn't make it obvious. He does his best effort to avoid making his feelings for you known because he's terrified that you're going to reject him. Podrick's heart breaks at the thought of this. It's Tyrion who works out Podrick's little crush on you, and it's Tyrion who finally gives Podrick the courage to finally confess his feelings for you.

Pets – Do they have pets? Do they want them?

Podrick doesn't have pets because he's too busy being a squire to Lord Tyrion. However, that doesn't mean Podrick wouldn't like to own a cat or a dog someday, but for now he's simply too busy to be able to look after a pet.

Quiet – How are the calm, quiet moments with them?

Podrick is a quiet and reserved, so the quiet moments between you are peaceful and calm. There's never an awkward silence between the two of you. You are able to read each other well and always know what the other needs.

Romance – How romantic are they? What are their go-to ways of being romantic?

Podrick would consider himself to be a romantic. He'll buy you gifts and plan romantic dates whenever possible. Podrick learns rapidly how vital physical time and affection are from Tyrion. Podrick may not start the most romantic. However, he is a quick learner.

Safe – What makes them feel safe and comfortable around you?

Podrick feels safe around you when he realizes anything that he says to you doesn't go any further. Podrick also knows he's safe when you defend him publicly without question. It's the pleasant feeling he gets when he's around you. You know Podrick feels comfortable around you when he's less nervous around you and comfortable speaking freely, more jovial as he holds more eye contact.

Tend – How do they act when you’re hurt or sick, and vice versa?

Podrick always worries when you get sick, he's terrified he'll lose you. He's always so compassionate ready to get you anything you need. He'll listen to the Master and keep a mental list of the medication and when you need to take it. On the other hand, Podrick gets clingy when he's sick. All he wants to do is lie in bed and hold you. When you need to step away for any reason, he immediately holds his hands out and tries to pull you back to him, no matter how hot or clammy he is, he needs to feel you close.

Unique – What’s an unusual thing about them that’s oddly charming?

Podrick knows random facts, being the quietest person in the room, so people often talk, forgetting he's there, so he often learns random facts and likes to tell you about them after a long day while you're winding down for the day.

Variety – Do they prefer to keep things the same, or spice it up?

Podrick likes to surprise you so he can keep you on your toes, but while in a relationship, he prefers to keep things as routine as possible. So when he does surprise you, it's a good shock. However, Podrick will always communicate with you, so he knows where your head is.

Wash – What’s it like taking a bath with them, or helping them wash up after a fight?

Baths with Podrick are always interesting. While they're calming and relaxing after a long day, they can also be cheeky with Podrick whispering sweet nothings into your ear, or how much he's missed you throughout the day while trailing his fingertips up and down your body. It's one of your favourite activities to do together.

XO – How do they show you affection? How much PDA are they willing to show?

Podrick is an affectionate person. He likes to hold you, kiss you etc. It's one of Podrick's love languages. He is happy to give you that and so much more. However, in regards to public Displays of Affection. Podrick is more reserved. He likes to hold your hand, and he will give you a cheek or forehead, but anything other than Podrick is not comfortable in doing so.

Yearn – What do they do when they miss you?

Podrick will look at anything you've given him, trinkets, letters, anything that smells of you. He'll count down the days until you return to him, and then he promises he won't let you out of his sight again until the two of you have to be apart again.

Zzz – How do they act when they get sleepy? How is it sleeping in the same bed?

When Podrick gets tired, he tends to tug you towards your shared chambers because he doesn't want to go to bed alone. Podrick is a cuddler and likes to hold you close at night with the blanket wrapped around you both. Podrick snores a little, and he needs you close at all times, if he feels you've moved too far,then he'll pull you back to him.

#Podrick Payne imagines #Podrick Payne imagine #Game of Thrones imagine #Game of Thrones imagines #Podrick Payne one shot #Podrick Payne oneshot #Game of Thrones one shot #Game of Thrones oneshot #Fluff Alphabet

[chyckles]

Requests & Characters I write for

Requests are OPEN

Drop your request in my ask box, and I'll try to write it as soon as possible. Keep in mind that this is a hobby, I have a life outside Tumblr, respect my time and don't pressure me.

Please remember English is not my first language, and I'm still learning, so if you see an error (there will be plenty of them) don't be mean to me. If you don't like it, just ignore my posts, thank you.

Your request need to contain:

The character/s you want me to write about (I will leave the list at the end of the post). I don't write ships, only “x reader”. If what you want is a preference, then only specify the fandom.

Select one of this: one-shot (2k+ words), preference or drabble (500-1k words).

Give me a brief description of what you want. You can even send me a scene or dialogue that you already have in mind.

Let me know if you want a bad or good ending. If you don't say anything, I'll do whatever feels right for me.

I will not describe any physical feature (skin color, weight…) unless it's relevant for the plot, so if the reader needs a specific feature please include it in your request.

I DON'T WRITE SMUT BY REQUEST, only whenever I feel like it. Sorry.

I can write love triangles, but not polyamory because I don't know almost anything about it and don't want to mess it up. Maybe in the future. The only exceptions are Steven Grant and Marc Spector, they're the only ones that I can make the reader date at the same time.

I DON'T WRITE INCEST, PEDOPHILIA OR ANY SICK THING LIKE THAT. If the character is underage, the reader will also be underage, and they will behave like underage people. I can write age gaps if the characters are both adults.

I don't necessary write only romantic relationships. If you want any kind of platonic relationship, that's okay, just specify it on the request.

Characters I write for:

I will add new characters of other fandoms in the future. These are just temporary. My favorites are in bold.

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Carol Danvers

Kate Bishop

Loki

Marc Spector

Natasha Romanoff

Peter Parker (Tobey, Andrew and Tom)

Sam Wilson

Steve Rogers

Steven Grant

Thor

Stephen Strange

Wanda Maximoff

Yelena Belova

Harry Potter

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Cho Chang

Draco Malfoy

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Ginny Weasley

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

James Potter

Luna Lovegood

Neville Longbottom

Nymphadora Tonks

Remus Lupin

Ron Weasley

Sirius Black

Game of Thrones

Arya Stark

Daenerys Targaryen

Cersei Lannister

Jaime Lannister

Jon Snow

Robb Stark

Sandor Clegane

Sansa Stark

Tyrion Lannister

Supernatural

Castiel

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

The walking dead

Carl Grimes

Carol Peletier

Daryl Dixon

Glenn Rhee

Maggie Greene

Negan Smith

Rick Grimes

#requests #request #requests are open #harry potter oneshot #harry potter preferences #harry potter preference #harry potter requests #harry potter #marvel preferences #marvel request #marvel preference #marvel #marvel oneshot #game of thrones preferences #game of thones preference #game of thrones requests #game of thrones request #game of thrones oneshot #game of thrones #marvel requests #oneshots #oneshot #imagine #imagines #preference #preferences #x reader #gender neutral reader #reader #harry potter x reader

[avtrbee]

in the beginning (part 2)

✢summary: in a final attempt to salvage the rift between your families, you suggest a marriage pact between you and and alicent’s second son (part 2 of in the beginning)

✢pairing: aemond targaryen/reader, 3.7k words

✢warnings: typical targaryen incest, possessive aemond, i think i write aemond in a darker way than what tumblr sees him as, add more lmao

✢a/n: hello everyone! i'm glad by the attention in the beginning got :)) thank you so much for your comments and notes and please do not hesitate to tell me how you feel about my work! your responses motivate me so much, thank you once again <33 there is no taglist for this fic, unfortunately. + gif isnt mine!

The next few days were a blur. True to your mother’s words, your trip back to Dragonstone had been postponed, though you were fairly sure you were to stay in Kings Landing indefinitely as Aemond’s wife. Once the news of your engagement has reached the ears of the realm, you have been subjected to endless congratulations from lords and ladies and their best wishes. Your brothers, on the other hand…well, you didn’t stick around for that.

“You can’t evade them forever, sweet girl,” your mother tells you. She has little Aegon beside her who runs towards you as soon as he spots you.

“Do they hate me?” You ask quietly. You sit on a bench outside of a balcony, wringing your hands. You despise the way you sounded so timid- so weak. At least Aegon is content and happy playing with your skirts, oblivious to any conflict within the family.

You hear Rhaenyra’s steps as she walks to you with a hand on her belly. “Hate you?” She repeats with a small laugh. “You have held Jace’s heart since the day he held you. Luke looks up to you more than anyone.” Her slender finger raises your head by lifting your chin and stare you down with her gaze. “You cannot avoid your brothers forever.”

You weren’t avoiding them…you just preferred to delay their inevitable reactions. Unfortunately, your mother was right. It was Jace who finally cornered you in the gardens, waiting for Aemond to finish his morning sparring. 

“I’ve missed you.” Jace’s words cut through the tension first. Guilt floods your mind. Out of all your brothers, Jace was the one closest to you. You remember Laenor complaining as he was tasked to chase two toddlers around the keep, with one going the opposite way of the other. 

“It’s only been a fortnight, Jace. I’ve…I’ve been busy with the preparations,” you lie and Jace looks at you with a knowing glare. You avoid his gaze instantly. “Where is Luke? He normally shadows you like a lost pup.”

Jace shrugs. “I’m sorry that it had come to this,” he whispers, walking towards you. A closer look on your brother tells you that he had run away from sword training early as there was a thin layer of sweat that covers him. “I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin during the dinner, I should’t have-”

“I know,” you reply softly. Jace takes a seat beside you and you lean on him instantly. Jace had been your first knight, your first protector out of anyone. “I shouldn't have hit Aegon, too.”

“I don’t like it,” Jace announces and it does not surprise you. Bad blood between the Princess and the Queen’s children are well known.  “I don’t want you to marry him.”

“I don’t like it either,” you admit. Not yet, your mind whispers.  “Brother-“

“You asked for this, did you not?” Jace asks, looking at you. “Mother told us- Daemon too. You asked for this marriage. He did too, back in the day.”

You twist your head to look up at your brother. You have not heard this before. “What do you mean?”

You feel Jace’s shoulders shake as he laughs. “This is not the first time mother had tried to broker peace with the Queen. I was to marry Helaena and you to Aegon,” your brother tells you and you nod. You had known about the failed efforts and the betrothals that she had offered. “Aegon had boasted your betrothal to Aemond that day and I had never seen him so angry-” Jace laughs heartily. “-Aemond was still a little thing back then, and half as talented with a sword but he still challenged Aegon to a duel.”

“For my hand?” You ask amused and Jace nods in reply. “He liked me that much?”

“And now he will have you.” Jace finishes, “all because you have begged mother for it.”

His stare bores down on you and you feel a sudden rush of anger surge in you.You lift your head out of Jace’s shoulder and stand. “You should be on your knees, thanking me,” you seethe. You briefly wonder if you resemble your mother the most angry. “I am cleaning up the messes you have made.”

“I am only scared for you, mandia,” Jace confesses, taking your hand in his. His tone quells most of your anger, and makes you feel as if nine again with Jace gently scolding you for a broken vase. “We were only children, after all.”

“He was also a child,” you frown. 

“Do not act like you were not complicit in teasing him,” Jace warns, “He does not carry bad blood towards you because of some childhood infatuation.”

“I did not tease him by flaunting a pig to be his dragon!” You reason. You were once a child, eager to accept any sort of attention from your brothers and uncles and wary of any action that would lose their favor. You were torn once you were old enough to realize that they had chosen Aemond to be their victim when he had always paid such gentle care for you. 

You regret it now, turning a blind eye to Aemond when he was clearly suffering, and guilt bubbles in your chest when you remember Aemond welcoming you into his chambers to play despite looking the other way when he was pushed and thrown to the ground.

You recall his glum mood when you entered his chambers in the afternoon holding two wooden dragons on each hand. 

From his seat, Aemond shyly peaked at your approaching figure. You could not have hid the gasp that escaped your mouth when you saw his face. Aemond’s right eye was beaten and swollen blue while his other side had streaks of blood running down his cheeks from his forehead. 

“Aemond!” You rush to him, dropping the wooden dragons on the floor. 

In a panic, you reached for a nearby rag on his dresser and began your attempt to wipe the blood off of his face. At your touch, Aemond flinches before you realize you have had to be gentle in treating his face. Gentle like he was to you.

“What happened?” You asked, dabbing on the already dried blood that ran across his cheeks. You moved away to dip the cloth in a glass of water in hopes to wipe the blood off his face.

“I was fighting,” Aemond answers, leaning in as you came back with a damp rag. 

“Fighting who?” You try your best to be even more gentle once you got the the wound on his forehead.

“Aegon.” He turns his head to look at you when he answers. “I challenged him to a duel to protect someone.”

Your face morphs into shock. “Aegon?” You demand. “He is twice your size! They must be pretty important for them to make you fight Aegon.”

Aemond does not offer you a reply, but you do not mind. His silence means the less his head will move and thus, the more you could clean his face. 

“You must see a maester,” you say in defeat. You had gotten a closer look at his now cleaned wound, and though it would not need stitches, it needs a special salve that Maester Mellos keeps in his rooms. 

“Aemond?” You call for his attention when you realize he was not listening. Instead, his gaze is focused on the door of his chambers. You follow his sight and realize he was staring on the floor where you had dropped your wooden dragons.

“Do you think I’d ever get a dragon?” He asks.

You were careful enough to hide your pitying stare when he looked at you. You had found that Aemond loathes pity, especially when talking about dragons. You had tried to express your sorrow for him once, but he only responded in anger. “Maegor didn’t have a dragon until he was twenty-and-six,” you offer instead. “He got Balerion after it.”

“I don’t want to be like Maegor the Cruel!” Aemond protested, his eyes misting up in tears. “Aegon tells tales of dragonriding, it’s all he talks about. It’s freeing, he says, and everyone looks like ants when you look below. I’d never get to experience it. Even Helaena has a dragon.”

You gasp audibly, as an idea pops in your head. You grasp his hand, tugging him out of the room. “We can ride Vermithor!” You tell him. “He was King Jaehaerys’ dragon, the biggest after Vhagar so he can definitely saddle two. Maybe even more!”

Aemond snatches his hands back. “I don’t want to ride Vermithor! He’s yours! He’s not my dragon.” Aemond’s face looks at you contorts in betrayal and hurt. 

You realize he thinks you’re mocking him. “No, no-” you reach out to grasp his hands again in a desperate attempt to satiate his temper. “I- I only meant you can ride with me! So you could feel what it’s like! Besides…” you trail off, uncertain. 

Aemond looks at you curiously and squeezes your hand. You relent immediately. “Would you like to know a secret?” Aemond nods and you pull him closer. “Mother says I’m not to marry Aegon anymore,” you whisper, darting your eyes around the hallway for anyone who might listen. “She says the King and your lady mother had chosen to betrothe him to Helaena instead.”

You look around the hallway again, missing Aemond’s small smile that he could not resist even with a split lip. “Maybe…” you continue. “Maybe she’ll tell the queen to betroth me to you next, that way you don’t need your own dragon because husband and wives share things. All that is his is hers, and hers his.”

“Truly?” Aemond asks.

You nod. “Vermithor can be ours,” you insist. “Whenever you want a ride, you can always find me and we’ll ride together, then you won’t need your own dragon anymore." You tug his hand down the hall with full intentions of running to the Dragon Pit. This time, Aemond did not resist. “Let’s ride our dragon.”

Aemond had screamed so loud as he rode Vermithor behind you, as the dragon flew as soon as he sat down on the saddle. His hands squeezed your waist tighter as he shouted louder while you held on to the reins tightly. 

Eventually Vermithor’s ascent comes to a stop, developing into a smooth sail along the clouds. “Open your eyes, Aemond!” You command.

“How did you know I was closing them?” Aemond quips, hugging your waist tighter despite the easier flight. You had no doubt in your mind that his eyes remained squeezed shut.

“Open them!” 

For a minute, Aemond is silent. You had half a thought to threaten him to his fall if continues to close his eyes, but before you could word out your threat he whispered softly, “Beautiful.”

Then you imagine he took in the sight of Kings Landing and Blackwater Bay on top of the clouds, admiring the tall structure of the Red Keep and millions of houses surrounding it. From here, he could catch the view of the Kingswood as it peeks at the horizon. 

You couldn't agree more. “Indeed.”

He was looking at you.

The rare sight of your mother, Queen Alicent and King Viserys together greets you as you land. Alicent runs to Aemond as soon as Vermithor is escorted back into the pit, and kneels in worry as she hugs her son. 

“I thought-” Alicent mutters, smoothing Aemond’s hair over and over. “I had thought the worst.”

“Don’t worry, mother.” Aemond says, with the widest smile on his face. “I rode a dragon!”

Your mother was the sole opposite of Alicent for she did not reek of worry, she radiated in anger. Nevertheless, she rushes to you. “What were you thinking?” Rhaenyra demands. She tugs your ear. “If Aemond had fell-”

“But he didn’t, sweet girl,” you felt the firm hand of your grandfather. Viserys looks down at you with a proud smile.

Behind you, your mother rolls her eyes. “Father, don’t save the damn girl. She’s spoiled enough as it is.”

“Ah, it’s her grandmother’s spirit, I tell you.” Viserys replies, his eyes twinkling at you in pride. 

“Lady Alyssa?” You ask, already familiar with your grandfather’s tendency to compare you to his mother. “You and Uncle Daemon’s mother?”

“Yes, brave girl.” Viserys agrees with a nostalgic smile. “Have I ever told you my first ride on a dragon? I was no smaller than a babe when my mother, the Lady Alyssa…”

“If there is any penance we could do, sister, we would do it.” Jace’s voice tugs you out of your memory. 

“I am the penance, Jace.” You say, frustrated. “I am the punishment. Our marriage will close the rift that we have opened.” It is not fair- none of it is. You try not to dwell on your situation too much lest you’d be tempted to thrash and throw an unladylike tantrum. If only you, Jace, and Luke were kinder to Aemond, if only Aemond didn’t lose his eye, if only your lady mother and lord father had other children-

“Have you seen his left eye, sister?” asked Jace. His tone is unrelenting and stubborn, too hurt from the reminder that a marriage needed to be born over childhood games. “I hear he has a sapphire in place of it. Some say he exchanges the gem to each day.”

“Jace, please,” You plead quietly, mindful that even in private gardens Kings Landing has ears. You cannot let them see anymore cracks of your house. “I am not asking you to be friendly, I’m only asking for civility for my sake, if not, for the realm.”

Jace holds your stare almost challengingly, before a voice rings out from the other edge of the garden. 

“Betrothed,” greeted Aemond. 

Your head whips to the direction of his voice.  He stalks over the two of you like a tiger, each step a calculated move of restraint. He has grown so much now that Aegon could steal no victories in challenged duels, and you were sure he would fare well against Jacerys despite being a few years younger. 

Aemond’s eye glinted in the sunlight as you see it roam your figure before slowly looking at Jace beside you. “Brother,” Aemond greets maliciously with a smirk upon his lips. 

Jace gives a tight lipped smile that almost looks painful. He regards Aemond with a curt nod. “Not yet.”

Your head turns back to face your brother with a glare and he meets your gaze in equal rebellion. You echo your previous plea to him in your head desperately as if he could hear your thoughts. Before long, Jacerys relents and breathes out a sigh. 

He extends an arm to your head, bringing your forehead close and presses a soft kiss on your temple. 

“I was just leaving, brother,” Jacerys says as he steps away from you. It was not the best response he could have given, but you did ask for civility and not sudden camaraderie. You give him a grateful smile as he turns and walks away.

“Hmm,” was all Aemond had to say as he saw the silent batte between the two eldest children of his sister. Wordlessly, he offered you his arm which you graciously accepted and he led you to the opposite side of Jacerys’ path, walking you deeper in the gardens of the Red Keep.

For the past two weeks, it had become a habit for you to wait for Aemond to finish his morning lessons with Ser Criston Cole and you would roam the Red Keep’s halls with your arms in his. Sometimes he surprises you with courting gifts. Once, he had given you a necklace embedded with huge sapphire stones and little rubies surrounding it.

“For your Velaryon and Targaryen blood,” Aemond explained, as you turned and raised your hair. His fingers were gentle as he hung the necklace around your neck.

“Why bother with these courting gifts?” You asked. “I am to marry you anyway.”

“A reminder to the others,” he simply replies.

You try your best not to snort. You had almost smirked in amusement once Aemond had presented you with the necklace. You pretended not to notice that the shades of the sapphires were far deeper than the color of your father’s house, but instead perfectly matches the shade of his left eye. You would not be surprised if the sapphires were cut from the same stone to what was in his face. 

Despite your initial reaction to the betrothal, you had found yourself charmed at the gesture- not that you would openly admit it. 

“Jacerys is fond of you,” Aemond says after a few moments. He had said nothing as you strolled through the gardens until now. “He is incredibly protective.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at Aemond’s hypocrisy, with the weight of your sapphire necklace sitting heavily on your neck a screaming reminder to anyone that you were spoken for. “He is my brother,” you reply instead, clutching Aemond’s arm. “My first knight before any of the others.”

Aemond gave another hmm, offering no reply until minutes later when he asked- “Does he fuck you?”

You halt immediately, eyes widening at the accusation. You blink at Aemond once trying to understand if you had heard him wrong. Aemond’s gaze looked at you expectantly. 

“What.” It came more of a statement than a question. 

“Does he fuck you?” Aemond calmly repeats, tugging your arm to continue your walk. If you weren’t too bewildered, you would have noticed the slight tremble in his hand.

“He’s my brother!” You protest, disgusted. Your face contorts in what you would imagine your expression would be if you had bitten into a lemon. 

Beside you Aemond scoffs. “As if that has ever stopped our family before.”

You tilt your head in consideration. Well- he’s not wrong. “He doesn’t. He wouldn’t dare,” you answer. “He is a gentleman to a fault. The only women he can talk to freely are me and our mother.”

Aemond’s eyes squint in thought. “Has he ever bedded a woman?”

“Why are we discussing Jacerys’…bedroom activities?” You snap. You do not want that image in your head, especially since his rooms in Dragonstone are directly beside yours. “Please remind me.”

Before you knew it, you had arrived at the courtyard where Aemond had been before he came to you at the gardens. Aemond slows down to a stop. 

“Tell me, my lady,” Aemond whispers as his nose trails your jaw. He has caged you in his presence behind a pillar in the courtyard. “Have you ever touched a man?”

You hitch a breath as you feel his hand clump your dress’s fabric, slowly pinching it up, up, up. You feel the summer breeze on your now exposed leg. Your eyes frantically roam the courtyard, wary of any person that was unfortunate enough to pass by, all the while Aemond’s face remains close to you.

You can feel every breath he takes and he lets out as he leans further in you like Aemond was taking a good sniff. 

“It’s alright,” he coos, his free arm patting your hair. “I admit I have lain with a woman before.” Your eyes snap to look at him, almost insulted. How dare he tell you this like you aren't his betrothed? You get the sudden urge to rip the necklace off you and throw them on the ground only to see his expression.

But it seems like your anger fuels him more.  “Aegon dragged me to a brothel,” Aemond explains, trying to placate you. “If I had known you were to be my wife I’d turn any woman away. So- tell me, my lady, have you?”

Aemond looks at you with a smiling look but you are still wary. 

“I have,” you admit quietly and Aemond’s face drops. 

“With who?” He shakes as he asks you this, his fist shaking as he holds your dress.

You see the Targaryen madness poets speak about your family in his violet eye that glints of violence no matter what you will say. The madness had killed the builders of the Red Keep, 

“A stableboy. In Dragonstone.” Your voice is a whisper as your own eyes look up to him nervously.

“A stableboy?” Aemond repeats, his eye glinting once more before your hand clamps on his wrist in a panic. Aemond’s hand has suddenly wrapped around your throat, squeezing threateningly. There was no dangerous pressure- not yet- but his hands shake like he wants to snap your head off. 

“Aemond-” you try to plead but he is far gone. 

“You sullied yourself for me,” he whispers incredulously, “for a stableboy?” 

“You have fucked a whore,” you seethe as you feel his hands tighten. 

Immediately, his hand is gone from your neck. His palm cups the back of your head and pushes it to his chest where he lays his chin on it. “It’s alright,” he whispers, all traces of malice gone from his voice. You feel the vibrations of his voice on your head. “With a mother with three bastards and a brother with hundreds more, we didn’t know any better did we?”

You try to rip yourself off him, insulted at his remark at your mother but his hand remains firmly behind your head. Aemond cages you with his palm and his leathers. 

“Shhh,” he whispers. You feel his fingers leave your dress as his palm makes contact with your thigh. You feel your eyes flutter as his hand roams your leg, his fingers gently caressing up, up, up-

“My prince, my princess.”

The way Aemond turned around to face the approaching servant was comically elegant, if his hand were’t so near your cunt just moments before. You try to calm your heart that was beating so loud that you were certain the servant would have heard it.

“There are dressmakers ready for you in your chambers.” To your dismay, the servant’s gaze turned worrisome at the sight of you. “My princess, are- are you alright? Shall I fetch the maester? You’re face is burning.”

“Oh,” You chuckle awkwardly, a hand coming up to your face. “I didn’t realize-”

“The princess is cold. No need for any maesters,” Aemond answers swiftly, before turning to you. “Come, my lady,” he coos mockingly with the devilish smile like he could hear the rapid beat of your heart. “The dressmakers are waiting.”

Absolute cunt.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagines #hotd season 1 #hotd x reader #dragons #game of thrones #got x reader #aemond oneshot #aemond imagines #Aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen headcanons #aemond headcanons #aemond targaryen imagines #house of the dragon aemond

[luvinescent]

Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.

Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.

Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)

In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.

“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.

Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.

Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.

She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.

Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.

“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.

She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.

Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.

Dorea named her Y/N.

As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.

“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.

Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths.  Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.

It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.

Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.

“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.

“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.

Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.

Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.

Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.

I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.

Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.

She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.

And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.

Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.

Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.

The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.

“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.

“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.

As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.

“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.

“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.

“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.

A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.

Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”

The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.  

“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “

“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”

“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, “No. I have children.”

Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.

“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.

Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.

Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.

Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.

After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.

“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.

Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.

Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.

Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.

“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.

Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.

She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.

Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.

“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.

Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.

“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.

“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.

As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.

“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.

Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.

“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.

A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.

“You can become a Stark”.

Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “

Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.

Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.

“No.”

Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “

“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.

The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.

Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.

Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.

“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.

She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.

Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.

“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.

Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”.  Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.

For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.

The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.

“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.

He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”.  She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.

Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.

“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.

Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her.  A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.

“Do you love him?”.

She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.

The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “

“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.

Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.

Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.

Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.

Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.

“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.

Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.

“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.

Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “

“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.

“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”

Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.

A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.

#robb stark #game of thrones #robb stark fanfic #robb stark x reader #robb stark x y/n #robb stark x you #robb stark oneshot #richard madden #robb stark imagine #got x reader #got scenario #got imagines #asoiaf #robb stark x targaryen!reader #robb stark x fem!reader

[my-on-and-off-writingstuff]

Troublemaker | Daemon x reader

Summary: the three times Daemon is harassed by a tiny toddler. 

Warning: Age gap of around 10 years between reader and Daemon. Furthermore, Daemon did not marry Lady Rhea Royce. 

93 AC

At two and ten Daemon Targaryen had escaped his teacher. instead he preferred to spend his day underneath the Weirwood tree. The young prince was laying at the root of the tree with arms underneath his head while sleepily looking up at the sky. Somewhere he can hear one of his teachers call out to him. Without doubt wanting to enrich him with an ancient batter or the doom of old Valyria. Something he had learned about a thousand times. This morning has already been filled with sword fighting and while he rather would have ridden his dragon Caraxes he knew sneaking out the Dragon pit would be almost impossible. God knows what his brother Viserys was doing, and he was not really planning on finding out as his brother was probably going to snitch him to his teacher anyway. 

Something was tugging on his hair and annoyed he hoped his eyes looking around for the culprit that had interrupted his nap. With a frown on his forehead, he looks at the tiny toddler sitting content at his side. Their little plump fingers going through his hair and occasionally give a sharp tug. Other than the two of you the Godwoods is empty. No nursemaid or servant to be found. The little one was babbling content noises. Judging by the snit of her dress the little toddler was not a servant’s babe but a child of one of the noble ladies residing in the keep.  

He tried to ignore the toddler and closed his eyes again. It is not his responsibly to take care of a little girl that what the servants are for. A screech interrupted his rest once again and his eyes quicky found the little one once again. This time you were crawling away from him towards the table underneath the roofed area. The table was covered with a long cloth, hanging of the edge of table almost to the ground, the table was decked with silverware and set for a quick lunch. He knew the curiosity of toddlers and while you had crawled your way there, judging you age he knew you were old enough to be learning how to stand so he made his way towards you quickly. For such a little thing you were quick and had almost reached the table. He carefully scooped you up, but your little fist had managed to grip on to the tablecloth and with Daemons motion of scooping you up you had managed enough force to pull the silverware from the table. 

The silverware was clattering to the ground around Daemons feet, wine, and food clinging to his clothing. He groaned but to your amusement the sound of the silverware and his frustration made you giggle. A soft and innocent sound which Daemon had to admit made his heart melt. “Oh, you are enjoying this, little troublemaker.” His voice made an adorable smile spread on your face and he softly tickled you to make you laugh again. He swung you around back to the tree to sit down and keep you out of harm’s way. 

The sound of the silverware clattering to the ground had attracted maids and other public to see what was happening. As the maids were quickly and quietly cleaning up the mess you had made. A woman came running in. She let out a sign of relief when noticing you. Her color of her hair and eyes matched yours and Daemon was positively that it was your mother. “Oh, my baby.” The woman exclaimed while quickly gathering you into her arms. The little toddler did not seem to like being ripped out of Daemons embrace, who you had considered to be your friend as the toddler started frowning and making grabbing hands towards him. “I am sorry for the trouble she has caused my prince.” The woman apologized quietly while soothing her daughter. Who’s lip was starting to wobble. “Next time do not let her out of someone’s sight as she might not be so lucky.” He scolded the woman, which he recognized as one of the ladies of a noble house who had just arrived at court for the festivities. 

“Of course, my prince, thank you for watching over her.” The lady made a courtesy towards him. Daemon only nodded and walked past the woman with all intention to make haste and find new place to relax but your baby talk made him halt. He turned around towards you and with his index finger lightly fluttered over your little face. “She is a troublemaker that one.” And with that he took his leave. 

___

A few weeks later he was walking towards the courtyard to practice some sword fighting when he noticed a presence behind him. He looked over his shoulder and abruptly stopped when he saw you waddling behind him. “Ah the little troublemaker has mastered walking.” He said to the little toddler. Unbeknownst to him the door of the room you and your family was occupying was left open and when seeing him walking past you had seen your chance and followed him. You made grabby hands at him, and he saw that as a sign to pick you up. Content of being in his arms your hand grabbed at his long hair.  

“Och, little one let’s not do that.” He untangled his hair from your little hands but as soon as he freed his hair out of your grip your hands were back into his hair. He simply gave up and continued his way towards the courtyard where the training sessions were held. Along the way ignoring the glances of the people around him. 

His sword fight teacher raised an eyebrow when he saw the young prince come his way with the small toddler in his arms but said nothing. Only looked on in amusement when Daemon carefully sat the toddler down on a bench gave you a wooden dagger to play with, to keep you occupied and distracted. “She is a troublemaker that one.” Was the only thing the prince acknowledged about the toddler before focusing on the training. Somewhere in the middle of the training a maid who had been sent to look for you had taken you away. Which had resulted in your cries echoing across the courtyard displeased with being taken away while you had been playing with the wooden dagger and had been watching Daemon train with wide eyes of amazement. Daemon almost had snatched you out of the hands of the maid when your disagreement with the situation had made itself known. But decided against it as you were not family of him. His eyes followed the form of the maid who quickly carried you away.

___

Two months later he was properly introduced to the little toddler it was the name day of your older brother. His father, Viserys and he had made his way towards the garden where the party was held. His father properly introduced his brother and him to the family, and your mother stumbled over her words as she properly met the prince still aware of the time, he had scolded her for not watching her child.

The royal family had sat down on the provided chairs which were placed around the garden for the parents to be able to socialize and the children to run around and play. As soon as your little eyes had found him you had made your way towards him. Daemon had not noticed you sneaking up on him until you were tugging at his clothes. Your mother tried to distract you but to no avail. “Y/N, baby come here” You had only looked briefly towards your mother before again tugging these times more urgently at his clothes. Daemon looked down at you, the same smile on your little face as when he had first met you and again his heart melted. He picked you up and sat you in his lap. 

From there you had a great view and was watching other kids play around you while also sheepishly eyeing up the cakes standing on the table. Daemon quickly took notice of the cakes when he saw you attempting to crawl on the table. “Ah see your little trouble side is coming out again.” He spoke quietly to you making sure his brother could not jest him about talking to a toddler. You let out an adorable giggle at the sound of his voice and again tried to move closer to the cakes. “You just can not help it, can you?” Daemon kept an arm around your stomach to make sure you did not fall or lose balance before plating one of the cakes onto a plate and putting it in front of you. A little scream came from your mouth as the little cake you had been eyeing was now in front of you. 

Without much hesitation your hands grabbed the cake and brought it to your mouth. You leaned against Daemon with the cake in your hands clearly content with your position. Daemon let out a soft groan because of the crumbs that were falling onto his clothes. Your mother had given up on trying to coax you away from the prince. With a full belly and a comfortable position, you had quickly fallen asleep in Daemons arms. However, every time when your mother would try to lift you out of Daemons arms and give you to one of the maids. You would stir and start whining which ended up with Daemon being annoyed with your mother and telling her you were fine in his arms. He ignored his brother who was trying to stifle his laugh across from him at the table clearly finding it amusing how much his brother was wrapped around the toddler little finger.

In the end Daemon was the one who had carried you back to the castle. Nobody allowed to get you out of his arms. He loved the feeling of that responsibility, caring for you was slowly but surely one of his favorite things. While his brother was jesting that you had imprinted on him like a little baby rabbit. Daemon could only relinquish in the feeling that you had chosen him to do so.

Slowly he placed you in your bed. He brushed your baby hairs before leaving the room without another glance. Missing the little smile that graced your lips even in your sleep.

___

111 AC

Daemon was nervously tugging at the collar of his jacket while looking around the great hall trying to not meet the eye of a single spectator. The great hall was transformed into a magical place where the wedding ceremony was going to take place. Sun light was lighting up the room making the golden and white wand decorations handing from the walls shine. Flowers were wrapped around the columns and the tacitly pleased around the room. You had planned it out to the last detail even the broach on which tied the cape and his jacket together. 

You had gifted it to him last night. It was a golden dragon midflight with its wings stretched out. It was unlike the Targaryen crest, and he had never been gifted something this thoughtful. For its eye was a single ruby. “For the color of Caraxes scales.” You had proudly stated while pinning it to his wedding attire so that it would all be ready for tomorrow. Like he said you had planned everything. Before he could properly thank you, you had all but ran out the room. Screaming back at him that he would have to wait one more night. 

Once again, he roams the space, and his eyes briefly meet your parents. While he practically had to beg your dad for your hand your mother was already wiping her tears away. Your father was a little less pleased as he glared at Daemon with a stoic face. Your father was not a fan of the 10 years age gap, as well reputation of rogue prince. However very much like Daemon you had both of them wrapped around your finger from a verry young age. Every marriage proposal you had rejected in favor of this one. After all you had dreamed about this wedding for ages and what you want you would get even if your dad was not totally aboard with it. As a father he had his concerns and Daemons reputation did not paint him in a favorable light. 

The music starts playing and Daemon shifts his attention to the big heavy doors. The doors are opened by two knights and within seconds you are making you way down the rows of people. You were wearing a heavily decorate golden gown with flowers and little stars on it. The trail of wedding dress is in a long trail behind you, shifting the flowers that mark the path towards the altar on the ground slightly. In your hair is a grand diadem set with rubies and diamonds. Around your neck is a necklace set with stones where part of it drops downs and settles between the valley of your breast. The necklace together with the drop earrings was his engagement gift for you. You had only worn them once before showing them off at their engagement feast before locking them up and saving them for your wedding day. 

 You had almost reached the altar and Daemon reached out his hands to help you up it. You looked like a goddess with the sunlight warming your face and making your dress sparkle. You take his hands in yours and squeeze it to reassure yourself that this is all happening, and it is not just a dream. The maids in charge of the trail delicately place it around you when you stand in front of your soon to be husband before they take a step back. The septon comes forwards and hushes the crowd. You smile nervously at him, as if you had only just noticed the crowd. 

 “Who is giving away the bride?” the septon asks. “I am!” your father voices bellows through the sept. He climbs the stairs of the altar and slowly takes of the beautiful made cloak in your house colors. The cloak is heavily decorated and reaches all the way to the floor. “You sure about this honey, we can still make a run for it.” Your father tries to joke but you see the emotion in his eyes. “Yes father, he is the man I want to marry.” You sneak a glance at Daemon who is tense, clearly having heard the conversation and you father offering you a way out. Your father only nods a response before kissing your forehead and returning to stand next to your mother. 

 “Now who is to claim her?” Daemon reaches out to the servant who is holding his cloak. As he unfurls the cloak the crowd gasps at the sight of the cloak. The cloak was of a black fabric and looked velvety of texture. The dragon was made from red thread but in the light of the sun it seemed to reflect and glimmer. Just as your house cloak this one reached the ground as well. the chain that would hold the cloak around your shoulders was made of gold and the clasp was another dragon quite similar to the broach Daemon was wearing. He now understood why you were persistent on that dragon. 

He stepped closer to you and your usually scent invaded his senses. He smiled at you and carefully wrapped the cloak around you before fasting it. His finger ghosted over the rounding of your breast before he dutifully stepped a step back. keeping the appropriate distance between the two of you. “With the exchange of cloaks, the bride has passed from the protection of her father into her husband’s protection.” The septon declares before moving to take up the wine cup. 

He leads the prayer and blesses the cup before giving it to Daemon. Without breaking eye contact Daemon takes a sip out of the cup. tasting the bitter taste of the wine before swallowing it. He takes the cup to your lips and tentatively tilts it so you can take a sip out of it. “Let this wine be the first of many things they will share between them,” The septon once again declares before taking the cup away. 

 The septon then gestures for the bride and groom to take each other’s hands. “Repeat after me.” Daemon for the first time during the ceremony looks at the septon and from the corner of his eye he sees you doing the same. “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife.” Daemons eyes are back on yours while he repeats the septon. “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife.” You feel your cheeks warm at his words and can’t help but look at the way his lips move while speaking his vows. The septon now turns to you. “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lord and husband.” Without hesitation you repeat the words and intuitive take a step forwards. Daemon places his hand up your waist. 

“Then in the power invested in me by the faith of the seven I declare you man and wife as they are one flesh, one heart, one soul now and forever and may they live a long and fruitful live.” Before the septon has even finished his speech Daemon pulls you into his chest. Your hand bracing for the impact lays on his chest. With his free hand he tilts your chin upwards and presses his lips against you. The world around you goes silent, no longer are you hearing the clapping of the invited lords and ladies. Your whole attention and senses are dedicated to the prince in your arms. A prince you can now proudly call yours. You feel his free hand roam its way down to your butt. The Septon clears his throat obviously uncomfortable at the sight of that and reluctant Daemon ends the kiss. “You are stuck with me, little troublemaker.” You smile up at him blissfully still in his warm embrace. “I would not have it any other way.”  

___

Part 2

#daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #Daemon Targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen oneshot #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fancficton #house of the dragon imagine #game of thrones #hotd

[thebadboyfanclub]

The Lover Of The Seven Kingdoms (Tywin x Reader)

First of all, I’m sorry but you cannot tell me anything when it comes to Tom hiddleston being the perfect young Tywin Lannister. Second, I love writing morally grey female characters and I wrote grant maester pycelle and mushroom in cause I wanted to show how a lot of male historians portray women in one way cause it’s just easier.

The lover of the seven Kingdoms” grant maester Pycelle had used as a description of (y/n) Martell, the second wife of Tywin Lannister, the symbol of femininity for a plethora of men in kings Landing, the mother of lord Ezra Lannister and lady Asena, the scandalous twins and one of the few bastards that later became legitimate and inherited Lannisport, then they had three more, lady Nymeria, Lady Zara and Lord Sorin, (y/n) was the secret passion of Tywin since she stepped foot at court, she was to be Joanna’s lady in waiting.

Her appearance was one carved by the Gods, long dark raven hair that curled down to her waist, olive skin, and almost black eyes, her lips thick, and a body as juicy as the fruits of her land, her twin brother Dorian had sent her to Kings landing as a way to show respect and also expand her horizons.

“Princess (Y/n) had relations with one of the bastards of house Dayne when she denied him the man gutted himself in front of her, Doran sends her away to avoid more scandals caused by her lustful appetite”

Mushroom note, Joanna liked her, she was smart and endearing, and she knew how to play her part, however, what Joanna had not taken in mind is that (y/n) stopped at nothing to get what she wants, in this case, it was the young Tywin Lannister, the tall man with muscles everywhere, blue eyes and blonde hair was the subject of desire for a plethora of ladies, none of them had the guts to go after him, (y/n) was not like them, she had her eyes set and the game had begun.

“My lord”

(Y/n) called for Tywin, the hour was quite late but Tywin was the hand of the king, the hour did not matter when they were things he needed to pay attention to, papers to be signed and payments to be settled.

(Y/n) had studied his schedule, Joanna was already in bed and Tywin was free, most of the servants were dismissed so they were no prowling eyes to catch her.

Tywin halted and turned to look at the girl that called for him, she wore a rather sheer dress which was unlikely of hers, Dornish people were always costumed to very light choices in clothing, still, this was a step further, if the candles burned a bit brighter Tywin would have been able to see… well everything.

“Princess (y/n), is there something wrong?”

“No, not exactly, I was hoping to talk to you, in private”

Tywin hesitated, (y/n) was just outside her chamber, she was holding the door open which meant that her choice of privacy was her room, still, curiosity about what it could be that needed to be discussed in such a secretive way was enough for his feet to go one and then the other inside.

(Y/n) closed the door before she spun to rest her back on the wood, a smirk playing on her lips as her plan was going smoother than she expected, the room was decorated in cherry red and gold colors, some orange as well and the intense smell of vanilla and musk took over Tywins senses.

“So, I would prefer it if you started talking”

“Do you like being the hand of the king?”

“You summoned me to ask me if you like my occupation?”

“No, I summoned you because I have a pair of eyes, eyes clear enough to see that something has been bothering you”

“Well I am flattered that the princess cares to ask for my well-being, however, I must go”

“You can’t lie to me Tywin, if it’s not your duty then it has something to do with me, you have been avoiding me, you can’t even look me in the eye”

Tywin once again chose to not speak he only made a b line for the door to which (y/n) was resting, she had managed to think of everything down to reaching for the handle when he did, making their hands touch, Tywin did not pull his away, he let it rest on top of hers as he towered over her and she looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Is it me, my lord? It is my presence that is bothering you?”

“No”

“No? You are breathing quite heavily, your eyes travel below my lips, and… dare I say you could have moved me if you truly wanted to, no one is here, my lord, you can confess to me”

“(Y/n)-“

“Go on, confess”

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she gawked at Tywin with lustful eyes with a hint of innocence, she had done this before, Tywin was a mere puppet, a bug that got caught in the spiders' web and was now waiting to experience her poisonous bite.

Her kiss could be described as venom, it made his entire body feel like it was burning and her touch was the only remedy, his addiction started and ended with her, he had been fantasizing about her every night, haunting him like a succubus and stealing the life out of him, at an instant he forgot everything, his wife, his status, his entire life would crumble if someone were to find them, none of it mattered, all that he cared about was to see her, take her.

He took her right on her window, some servants had even reported that they could see the young princess bareback as her moans grew some attention, alas none of them thought something of it, most of the castle had seen a generous amount of men go in and out of (y/n)s chamber at all hours of the night.

Tywin was in utter awe with (y/n), he almost felt like he would faint as he reached his high, it was the only time Tywin considered that (y/n) was a practitioner of dark magic. No other woman had held such power over him in this act.

“My lion”

She had whispered in his ear before she kissed him,(Y/n) was the perfect lover, every night he would slip from his chamber and knock on her door, she would be waiting for him, take him up to the sky, and wrap him with her fire that burned as bright as dragon fire.

Tywin was entirely himself around her, she allowed him to be in control and gave him the euphoric theatrics of prowling on her, which made (y/n) giggle a little, it was refreshing and borderline hilarious to move the strings in the background while Tywin thought he was moving them only because she let him touch them.

“I have exciting news”

“Which is?”

“Princess (y/n) is pregnant, how lovely would it be if we get to marry our children? We could secure Dorne and bind my friendship with her”

“We will do no such thing”

“Tywin, think about it if we-“

“You are forgetting an important thing Joanna, the princess is not married, who knows who the father of that bastard is, my child will not marry anyone of such low status”

What else could he have said? We can’t marry them cause they are siblings? Joanna would be crushed, Tywin had run to her chamber that night, not even bothering to knock as he burst into the room startling her, still once she laid her eyes on him she smiled, she dared to smile as if nothing has happened.

“How dare you announce your pregnancy without even telling me first”

“I thought you had noticed”

“No, I hadn’t and Joanna wants to marry your child with one of our children”

“I am sure we will find a way around it”

“Find a way around it? How are you so calm when the world is crumbling on your feet? You are not married nor betrothed, this child will be declared a bastard”

“This child will be my firstborn, a child created by you and me if you remember, that is all that matters to me”

“Not to the rest of the realm”

“I do not care about the rest of the realm Tywin, that is your problem, it will be royalty in Dorne, I do not care what they call my child here”

“Some said she bathed in goats blood every full moon, she would burn candles and speak in foreign languages to make Tywin stay by her side”

Mushroom claimed, it could be true or just whispers since no one understood the powerful hold that she had on the young lord, Tywin was a fearsome man, calculated and ambitious, yet (y/n) could sway him in any direction she wished with a bat of an eyelash.

It was such a peculiar moment, (y/n) gave birth to twins four moons after her lady Joanna, Ezra and Asena, both of them had their fathers' eyes, sapphires that shined in the light of the sun as (y/n) fed them from her breasts, Tywin had held Asena first, she looked nothing like Cersei still something in him knew that the two girls were born to be each others nemesis, fate had played him like a fiddle.

“I was thinking of going back to Dorne”

“Why?”

“My brother said it is not safe for us, people will talk and I do not want my children to grow up in a venomous environment”

“No, no you will stay, Ezra and Asena Hill has a nice ring to it”

“They are Martells, my love, they shall be called that”

(Y/n) was not ashamed of her children, on the contrary, she adored them and kept them by her side at all times, she taught them how to walk, talk, sing, and dance, a endearing mother with a backbone made of Valyrian steel, a combination made straight out of the seven rings of hell.

“Push, my lady”

“I can’t, (y/n) please make it stop”

“Maester, what is taking so long?”

“The babe has breached, it will not let me pull it out”

“It hurts (y/n)”

“I know, my lady, just one more push”

Joanna fought tooth and nail to survive, unfortunately, her labor did not harvest any fruit for her, the son survived but Lady Joanna did not even get to hold him, grant Maester pycelle held Tyrion and presented him to lord Tywin who was utterly disgusted by the ugly creature.

“That is no son of mine, throw him in the river”

“You will do no such thing”

“This matter does not concern you, princess”

“It does, you may be excused maester”

Pycelle only nodded and left them alone, a strange aura surrounded both of them, Joanna was gone, a deformed babe had taken her life, and (y/n)s belly was ready to pop any minute, what was to be done now?

“Does cruelty excite you?”

“Cersei and Jaime are both healthy and Lannister featured, that… thing could not have been created by me”

“It was not the babes' fault, so I have to remind you that you are also guilty of the thing you are accusing a dead woman of?”

Tywin was a man but that meant little to nothing, if Tyrion was a bastard then there was no difference between him and (y/n)s children, Tywin was in no place to frown upon such an act since he was having another child on the way, a bastard.

“Listen to me, my love, I know you loved Joanna and I loved her too, but the babe survived, it’s the last thing we have from her, grief is a strong emotion, but we have each other to lean on, don’t you want this for us Tywin? for me?”

There it was, her secret weapon, that sweet voice that dripped of honey and the big doe eyes, she knew how to play the damsel in distress down to every detail, Tywin put his lips in before he shook his head in defeat, his wife had departed but his mistress stood before him, demanding a place at his table and life, which he was willing to give her.

-

Cersei was frantic, the announcement of her father's betrothal to the princess (y/n) and the reaffirmation of her bastard children had brought her to an utmost stage of rage that she was going around her room like a hurricane, she was throwing things and cursing as loud as her lungs allowed it.

How could he do this to her? To her family? That woman had slithered her way into their life like a snake and was now feasting over her mother's dead body, this was just plain disrespectful to her mother.

Tywin found Cerseis handmaidens outside her chamber as the sounds that came from it could put to shame any wild animal, the ladies looked frightened and not one of them dared to go in, however, all of them tried to warn him in leaving the lady be, suggesting that this has probably happened before.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Get out”

“Young lady I advise you-“

“Shut up! I don’t want to listen to you! How could you marry her?! How could you do this to my mother?”

That was the last thing she said before a harsh slap landed on Cerseis's cheek, the girl was taken back by the act since her father had never hit her, he would discipline her but mostly by raising his voice or finding peculiar tricks of punishment, for Tywin to get physical with his daughter meant that she had gone too far.

“You do not get to judge my decisions, you will welcome your brother and sisters and you will be nice to my wife whether you like it or not, did I make myself clear?”

Silence only looks that could kill were exchanged

“Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes Father”

“My love?”

(Y/n) walked into the room, she had heard everything although she chose to reside in the act of being clueless, Tywin had turned away from his daughter and walked to his soon-to-be wife’s side, his hand found hers and brought it up to his lips, (y/n) smiled fondly before she scanned the room with her eyes, a puzzled look on her face as the room was upside down.

“What has happened? Is the young lady alright? The handmaidens were stuttering when I asked about the noises”

“Yes, no need to worry, my dear, Cersei was just redecorating”

“Oh, well if she wishes I can help with that”

“No, no, Cersei is quite specific, she prefers doing things her way, hence this scenery, we should live her”

“As the young lioness wishes, but before we leave”

(Y/n) took a few steps so she can stand ahead of Cersei, Cersei truly felt like a lioness, one that was trapped in a cage to be exact, as much as Cersei wanted to believe she could outsmart anyone (y/n) had years up on the horse, so naturally she was now trotting past Cersei with her caring smile and eyes that lit up, Cersei was left to looking like a kid that threw a tantrum whilst (y/n) looked like a mother that did her best to keep the peace.

“I know you are angry at me, I would be too, I will not try to be your mother, I do however hope that one day you will view me as your ally or your friend even”

(Y/n) went to caress Cerseis cheek which Cersei flinched away from that earned her a cold hard stare from her father, (y/n) only bit her lip in defeat, then it was replaced by a smile of hope, (y/n) genuinely wanted things to go as smooth as possible, to keep all of Joanna's children close to her, it was the least she could do she wasn’t a complete monster, as much as Cersei liked to think of her as one.

“Perhaps it’s too soon, I am asking way too much of you, I hope you have a great day, sweetling”

“Put everything back in its place, now”

Tywin instructed in a stern voice before they exited the chamber that Hurricane Cersei was occupying, Tywin was sure that she would throw something at the door once it was closed and he stood correct when a loud bang was heard.

“She is a young girl that lost her mother, having an attitude with me is inevitable”

“Cersei is not a normal young girl, she has a superiority complex over everyone, our children will not interact with her yet”

“That won’t be a problem, Asena is not… fond of Cersei either”

“I wonder why, let us not think of Cersei right now, it is time for Nymeria to be fed”

“See how beautiful it sounds when it rolls off the tongue? And you wanted to name her Lydia”

Since this babe was the first legitimate child of Tywin and (y/n) he had the suggestion of picking the name of the beloved girl, on the contrary (y/n) was not budging, she was adamant on naming her daughter after the biggest warrior queen Dorne has ever known, her precious Nymeria.

“The princess never wanted to marry lord Tywin, she was far more interested in keeping their relationship private, howbeit Lord Tywin was too consumed by his emotions for her to consider the fact that the princess could have been wed, she simply chose not to”

Grant maester Pycelle added when asked about their wedding. (Y/n) did not care about her children being legitimate or owning land, Dorne was her home, her brother had congratulated her on the birth of her twins and even offered to have them in Dorne, and her family was delighted by (y/n) bringing forth new heirs for the Martells, it was only Tywin that wanted to make it official, to let everyone know that the princess was now cloaked by the lion, her life as the lady of the rock had begun and Dorne had entered a land that they never really thought of earning.

“In a day you will be my wife, therefore, my children’s good mother, I expect them to treat you as such”

“I do not, Tywin they are in mourning, you cannot expect them to make it easy for me”

“I am not dimly witted my dearest, I know they will have some thoughts over our marriage, albeit I will make sure they keep it to themselves”

Requests are open!

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[ransprang]

Jaime Lannister x Fem!Reader Hcs

Fueling my Nikolaj and GOT brainrot~ enjoy

NSFW and SFW -

1. Man protects you like a dawg. He will not have anyone touch you or get too close without drawing his sword the second they take a step closer (Not even your parents).

2. Jaime loves having sex the second you both are alone, he just can’t help it. A quickie in the meeting room, in his chamber, after shower. He loves it when he stands tall and you’re on your knees sucking him off as a to thank him for protecting you.

3. Jaime loves carrying you over his shoulder. He’s strong, and you’re his. In the palace he will subtly tease you by carrying you over his shoulder to your room.

4. Jaime loves restraining you, he will tackle you down, pinning your hands above your head. He likes to be in charge, and fuck you to relieve his stress from the long day of managing Cersei.

5. Jaime would like to have children with you, and possibly favour them over Joffrey. As they are his to claim to the public, and he can love them freely also protect and raise them.

6. Jaime likes being just a boy around you. No pressures to fight or decisions. He likes teasing, making jokes and possibly be obsessed with building blocks which makes you look at him sometimes think, how at the core hes just. a. guy.

7. When you watch him fight or be an exceptional swordsman you want him to fight you similarly but in the bedroom, without his clothes on and definitely with a different sword of his. You could testify Jaime was skilled with his other not so miniature sword as well.

8. Cersei would love bullying you, in order to push you away from her beloved brother. Jaime wouldnt never rage at her, but would protect you from all her evil schemes and will never let anyone or anything harm you. They will have to face him before you.

9. Jaime takes off his metal hand and stares at where his wrist used to be sometimes, but he will only show such level of sadness and vulnerability in front of you.

10. Jaime loves pounding you with your legs over his shoulders, he loves to watch your breasts bounce bringing him closer to the edge faster.

Your twin,

Admin Sav

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[imagines-all-day-everyday]

Life with Robb Stark after the war would include...

first of all, red wedding? what is that? never happened, never going to happen

robb wins his war and the north gains their independence

all of a sudden he really is king of the north

king robb stark of winterfell, the title was weird to him

what was even weirder was how he was treated so differently

because even when he was rebelling against the lannister's, he'd been just that, a rebel. but now he was actually a king, he could sense how skittish his men were around him

except you

your parents were wealthy merchants in winterfell with close ties to the starks

so, naturally you'd grown up alongside the stark siblings

but you and robb had always been the closest, joined at the hip since before you could walk

your parents always knew you'd end up together

but the two of you had always insisted you were just friends, nothing more

but then ned died and all of a sudden he was marching off to war

and you stuck by his side through thick and thin, never treating him any differently just because he was 'king robb'

you were always more than happy to tell him how he was fucking up

and holy shit could you dish it out and stand your ground

and maybe he had just been too caught up in himself but it hit him in that moment as you were yelling at him for doing something stupid and self sacrificing in the middle of the battle

holy shit he was in love with you

robb had always been in love with you actually, if he was being totally honest with himself

he kept it to himself because he needed to be 100% focused and if you rejected his advances he'd probably lose the whole god damn war

but then he won and after that last battle he finds you in your tent, his armour still on and soaked with blood

and this man pours his fucking heart out to you and you do the same because you've been in love with this man since you could remember

"I can't believe our parents were fucking right."

"We're never going to hear the end of this are we?"

you get married very quickly after that because you have spent your entire lives denying your feelings and you are not going to waste anymore time pretending that you aren't soulmates

now they chant and toast to the king and queen of the north

it takes a long time for you to get used to being called queen

the people of the north adoring you

like you are 1000% the favourite

but robb doesn't blame them one bit

especially when he sees you spending your time tending to the poor and sick and visiting surrounding villages

catelyn approving of you (shockingly)

although she has kind of a complex with you because you technically have taken her place

but robb puts a stop to her bitchiness the second he spots it

but you can hold your own too

finally getting the other stark children back

and although nothing will ever replace the loss of ned, you feel like a family

and it is not long until you and robb start your own

it took a little while for you to fall pregnant

not for lack of trying

neither of you minded it taking a little longer

"well we just need more practice love"

then you finally fall pregnant and this man just spins you around and showers you with kisses

robb being the most protective and excited dad of all time before the baby is even born

like he is constantly rubbing your belly and talking to the baby which makes you love him even more

arya and sansa being so excited to be aunts

catelyn was not overly fussed on the new nickname 'granny' being thrown around by her kids

but she could hardly contain her excitement

robb holding your hand the entire time while you give birth even though at some points he was convinced you were going to crush it

he sobs when he cradles his son in his arms for the first time

baby eddard stark is the first

neddy for short of course

and four more follow after him because you grew up seeing how happy the stark kids were with their siblings and you want the exact same for your kids and so does robb

after neddy is jon, then alys, alira and lastly baby mikal

winterfell castle being just pure chaos 24/7

you and robb would finally think you were getting a sleep in when you would hear the laughter from the hallway and your precious alone time would vanish right before your eyes

servants would literally have to leap out of the way as your kids bolted the hallways

"well they have definitely inherited your spirit"

"and they have inherited your stubbornness"

oh god and the chaos at dinner

sometimes the kids would be fighting and playing and you and robb would just give up and look at each other from opposite ends of the table and shrug in defeat

robb being the most gentle, caring and devoted father to all of his kids

and he is such a softy when it comes to his two girls

like this man literally defeated the lannisters yet he cannot bring himself to say no to two tiny children

robb teaching all of the kids archery and sword fighting

"don't you think you're starting them a bit young?"

"I was three when I picked up my first sword and look how I turned out."

"exactly."

the kids being so excited when uncle jon comes to visit

missing robb like crazy when he goes away on some sort of expedition or mission

and your children pick up on this and go out of their way to be slightly more manageable then usual

robb coming home a day early to surprise you to find all six of you asleep in bed together, cuddling and softly snoring

oh and you know grey wind becomes their personal guard dog

and you can tell he is beyond unimpressed when one of the toddlers tries to clamber onto his back or tug on his tail

but he puts up with it, you think he secretly enjoys it

because like robb, he is a massive softy on the inside

you and robb just having the most blissful marriage ever

like you have been best friends with this man since you could walk so you know each other inside and out

you can read each other perfectly so your fights are always so short lived and trivial

you could be married for years and this man will still act like a hormonal teenager around you

much to your children's disgust

"let's make another baby"

"I think five is more than enough Robb."

"let's practice then"

catelyn struggling sometimes because she sees how robb is with you and the kids and it reminds her so much of ned

but she is so happy to be a grandmother and is more than happy to take them off your hands to give you both some private time

everyday you wake up and think you couldn't possibly love this man anymore but somehow you fall more in love with him everyday

basically just being the antithesis of everything expected of westeros relationships and marriages

like you two are so goddamn healthy and normal it's almost weird

cersei could never :P

robb just getting everything he deserves and more because he is an angel

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[cutielando]

✧༺♥༻∞ MASTERLIST ✧༺♥༻∞

hello, you gorgeous souls, and welcome to my blog !!!

i created this blog in order to kinda give myself a safe space to express myself and the wonders my mind comes up with lol

a little about me: i'm 19 years old, i'm from a beautiful country in central europe and i'm a freshman at university.

i'm basically a college student with absolutely no free time but i'd rather write stories than actually study.

welcome aboard, i hope we're going to have fun together !!!

THE ONLY PEOPLE I WRITE FOR ARE THE ONES LISTEN BELOW!!!!

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!! feel free to send in any requests you might have ! <3

FOLLOW @cutielandoscorner AND TURN NOTIFICATIONS ON TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN I POST!!!

that would be all, enjoy xoxo

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[eviesaurusrex]

“ʟᴀᴅʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ.” | ʀ. ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ

Not my GIFs!

Robb Stark x Tyrell!Reader

summary: A request for something fluff with Robb Stark!

word counts: 1.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

;

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you happy?”

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

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

;

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

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[tonystarksproperty]

Hi Milo! would you please write Yandere Khal Drogo x pregnant wife reader? with smut? and that the reader loves it a little as if she had Stockholm syndrome? I am completely in love with my Khal :D thank you very much in advance :))

ps: i love your work it's just amazing <333

ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ, ᴀ ᴋʜᴀʟᴇꜱꜱɪ | ᴋ. ᴅʀᴏɢᴏ

yall are so nice omgg :}

this man has me on a chokehold literally

disclaimer: italics indicate dothraki language & female reader

warnings: yandere theme, dubcon sex, breeding kink, mentions of betrothal, possessiveness, noncon relationships, 18+ content.

One thing about this man right here, he doesn't care. Yes, your belly is swollen with one child. Never to late for another? He is a good fuck: its in his blood, his veins, his pride. You will never find another man like him to satisfy you. Your body will never fully be satisfied unless it is him.

However, Drogo is no fool though, he knew you were going to anything in your power to prevent the pregnancy: beg Viserys to kill you? It was such a good act, he must say. You had requested him to threaten you with the blade during the feast so maybe, just maybe: it could all be over with. But Drogo remained calm during the performance because he was well aware of your misery with him. He enjoyed it though, savored you until his heart content. He doesn't give a horse's ass if you don't like your new life. It is what was born for you to do, to breed.

You better pray because you never leave the tent nor lift a finger; the maidens of the tribe live to serve their khalessi. Drogo is the type of lover person to not feel sympathy to others no matter how bad the grief may be. Not really connected with his feelings, just his desires.

You stood up upon his arrival in the tent, no matter how weak or sore your body ache. You were trained to always greet the khal with exact and focus attention. He just walks in while throwing his weapon on the side of him and onto the floor. His dark eyes hadn't left your gaze. He approached you with his heavy footsteps, as his hands coated with one’s blood that was not his own, examining your facial features; observing to see that he had returned to you just had he left you: stable.

He had done this various times but it was a habit to see if anyone would harm the stallion that will mount the world. You were wearing an upper-waist dress with an floral palette and flowiness, the dress dropped to your ankles that hid your recently massaged feet. His hands were on your sore stomach and with a few rubs of gentleness from him: you inhale deeply due to the pain being at ease with his rubbing.

You open your eyes softly as his blood-coated hand print had been on the see-through dress. He cups your cheeks, bringing your face closer to his while examining you once again. He was worried to know if anyone had attacked you, his khalessi. You noticed this because you could see the worry on his stoic face: even if he managed to hide it so well. You grab his rough hand and gently caress his palm, despite the blood that was abusing your nostrils. Drogo noticed your gentleness to him, no matter how bad he treated you in your terms.

He leaned over to and kissed you, which you melted into because you were far to used to kissing Drogo. You had accepted Drogo, and his traditional and somewhat beneficial ways with you. You had no choice. His body weight increased as he was almost falling on you but he had placed you on the clothed rags that you both rested upon day and night. You push him away with all of your strength, feeling a bit more weaker by the second due to your sore belly weighing you down.

You were soon pushed down in a meer manner. You gently caresses your sore belly, Drogo noticed how your body couldn't handle his genetics obviously due to the pain you were enduring. You looked so full, so round. So very plumply. He was mentally smiling, it made him feel proud that your tiny body compared to his was so enjoyably weak. "May we just take this moon to rest?" You attempt to reason with him, you both were fucking non-stop every-night and you were already carrying one, you couldn't handle anymore right now. He shakes his head no. You already knew he was going to reply in that manner.

The traditional dothraki love language will forever be questioned and as much as you didn't feel like it: it was always coming. He had pushed you rather gently this time onto the horse fur and cotton rags that was used to make a makeshift bed. You flopped due to your strength decreasing each second with your stomach. He took the chance to lay himself next to you, as his clothes discarded with yours. 

You give a sensual moan at the loss of discomfort your sore body had posses with the clothes that were tight around you. Drogo enjoyed you in clothes that were tightly on you, showing your curves but in your current state, he wanted everyone in his tribe to be well aware that you are already claimed for the stallions that will mount the world. It was usual for the dothraki to become possessive over their beloved, you were far to used to it though.

You allowed his large, calloused hands roam over your body, not even having a say in the first place to be in-fact. You were about to protest, hoping you can take this night to just relax and ease yourself but Drogo had no relief in a few cycles. The healer of the tribe, that is rarely around had told Drogo that sex could harm the baby's life especially your body compared to his size.

He was well aware that his girth was large and did expected the outcome of no sex but that couldn't stop him and his animalistic urges that refused to go away. Before he had walked into the tent, he had mentally prayed to the old wise great stallion to bless your growing child lives under its guidance and blessings.

Perhaps, he should consider what the healer said but his urges had been getting through his head. And he cannot blame them. You were in your glory, laying down with your legs closed together as you turned your body to the side to rest, but Drogo had grew impatient due to the slightest of movements had allowed his cock become erected with pre.

It wasn't him getting excited, he doesn’t believe in such a happy emotion. It was his soul reacting to yours. He had took the chance to come up behind you, laying you down in his grasp as your body still turned. He refuses for you to be on your stomach, even though that was the traditional way to give pleasure in the dothrakian heritage, taking you from behind. You hadn't noticed how his large hands were on your swollen belly as he pushed you gently onto the rags that made your bed.

You arched your back at the sudden pleasure you were receiving as Drogo’s hands moved down to your bare abdomen and soon your pussy. You squinted your eyes as you bit your lip in anticipation as his fingers played with the outer-lips of your bare pussy. You weren't able to look at him. He had laid you down on your side where your back had been facing him.

You quivered as his other calloused hand rubbed your sore, bare back. You whimpered softly while his lips connected to your neck yet again. You were looking down because your body had been so sore from his genetics. He took this opportunity to enter you. You shot up instantly with small pleas for mercy to his force. "Drogo, please! I am with child!" You say in hope for him to calm down as his thrusts increasingly become sloppy.

Drogo snicked indistinctly. You truly had been afraid, never hearing Drogo laugh, cry or lose his cool and upon your arrival to the horselords: you would always find them intimidating, but none as intimidating as Drogo.

His large hands meet your hips, gripping your flesh roughly before bringing your body closer onto his cock with a small grunt. You used your hands to support your body from falling down but the pain was enduring enough. You were moaning as the slaps of both fleshes continued. You closed your eyes; allowing Drogo to continue, he was bound to. Consent meant nothing to him, to his pride. His grunts and groans described the relief he had been feeling as he ached for more of your touch.

Your body was uncontrollably relaxing. You felt yourself reach for your peak. His large cock within you had been so very pleasureful that tears of overstimulation coated your heavy eyes as you saw stars. "Please, I-" You blurt out as your climax was approached swiftly. He leans himself down to your ear. "Do it." Drogo orders while he puts himself into your neck to decrease his echoing groans. 

You leaned your head back, while he gave one last powerful thrust and it allowed you to release your building orgasm. Drogo had gritted his teeth furiously while his hot semen was unloaded again. You gasped heavily while a thin layer of sweat coated your aching body.

He leans down to you and kisses your forehead while pulling out. "Rest, my khalessi." Drogo coo's sweetly as he wipes away your tears with his large pointing finger. You nodded in agreement before turning your body to the side where your back had been facing him as his rough hands gently caress your sore belly while you drift to slumber.

Drogo noticed you fell asleep more quicker that usual. He was actually glad you went to sleep as a small smile crept up to the curve of hips as he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder before playing with your knuckles as his other hand continuously rubbed your aching yet growing belly. He knew he wasn’t the best husband but he was glad you were giving into your role as his khalessi.

His khalessi.

credz to @/tonystarksproperty

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