#margaery x reader

[howyouloveyourdragon]

threesome with margaery and robb please please i BEG

Taking Charge

pairing: margaery tyrell x reader x robb stark alternate universe: Margaery allies with Stark instead of Lannister, Robb survives (no necrophilia here thank you babes) pronouns: she/her anatomy: afab warnings: power dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, brief discussion of trauma (the red wedding) kinks & positions: threesome, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, light bdsm, being gagged, oral (reader receiving), riding, masturbation, face riding, orgasm denial, fingering dividers by: saradika wordcount: 3,388

A/N: only the best for you ma'am, you told me i could go feral and i always deliver >:) i really hope you enjoy this bby! ♡ also margaery lowkey acts as a medieval marriage counsellor but we'll touch on that later ☠️

Margaery Tyrell is beautiful. You know it. Your husband knows it and the gaggle of raucous men know it as she flits her eyes over Robb. Her lips move but you are too entranced to doubt her words. You hear Robb gulp beside you and your own breath hitches as her shoulders roll back, a lithe hand exposes her neck by sweeping her hair behind her. She smirks as she curtsies--slow and deep. "Thank you, your grace for understanding my position." "Of course." Robb's voice utters but you can hear a familiar gruffness. He glances at two of his men as he gestures for two of them to lead her to a spare tent. You let a gentle hand rest on his forearm. "You need not," You tell the men, ignoring when your husband snaps his sights back to you. You smile pleasingly at Margaery. "We will find somewhere together, it has been a long time since I entertained guests." She returns your grin with the hint of surprise in her crystal eyes. The flicker across your form and her parted lips close. "Perhaps I should be entertaining you, my Queen." You feel as Robb tenses and squeeze gently. You merely hum to Margaery and begin to glide toward her but your husband snatches your arm quickly and tugs you back. His eyes stare deeply into yours as he guides a hand to cup your face, an intensity as he draws closer--prolonging each movement. He connects your lips effortlessly and drinks in the gentle gasp when his tongue treads along the seam of them. Your eyes flutter like the flap of a butterfly's wings until they shut closed. His fingers twist the hair at the back of your head and tugs just enough to let him drink in your soft whine. You don't have the chance to see as Robb's sights turn hard and warning as they lock with Margaery's. Her smirk only deepens.

Eventually you gather the inner strength to pull away with a wet smack and stumble back. As your eyelids slip open his darkening stare greets you, a quick tilt of his head permitting you to step away. His gaze stays locked on you as you leave, linking your arm with the new woman's. "He is rather protective of you." She notes as you walk throughout the camp. You hum in agreement and nod softly. "There was an incident a number of moons ago where he was supposed to marry one of the Frey daughters, we supplemented another man in his place but..." You pause, discomfort crossing your skin like a spider's thick web. Margaerys collects your free hand in the bed of her own hand and squeezes gently. It gives you the courage to continue. "The matter was not resolved. There was bloodshed and we lost a babe but we escaped and so..." Margaery steps in front of you, now holding both your hands. Your breath stutters but still you paint a sad smile across your lips. "I understand." She assures with a gentle smile. She wishes to reassure you. Two of her fingers rise to lift your chin to encourage you looking up into her eyes. "I would feel the same if I had a petal such as yourself. I would take my vows of protection over you just as carefully. And I would take those vows." Her voice purrs like a kitten curled in your lap, like it is a soft tail wrapping itself around your forearm instead of her hand. 

The days pass with your forms close at every turn and under your husband’s watchful eye. Your nightly activities increase, a deeper need clawing up Robb’s chest. Tonight, you writhe in the sheets with Robb's pants fanning over your neck as his fingers bury deep within your core. He moans at the wet stickiness, letting it drip down his hand. You feel it growing–the wave about to crash–swirling deeper and deeper. It’s like a whirlpool that you are begging to let swallow you down. You want it, you need it and then–Then Robb retracts stops. “Say it,” His unusually gruff voice murmurs in your ear, ignoring your flailing legs. You try to grind back and forth but his spare hand pushes your hips down in warning. He leans up to your ear. “Say it.” He demands once more, rougher. “I love you.” You concede easily, gentle whimpers pouring out. His fingers roll fluidly again and the waves return. “Again.” “I love you.” The water spins you, an overwhelming heat distorts your sight. “Again.” “I love you.” And finally he lets the dam break inside you. Your heat gushes over his hand. His mouth drops down onto yours with a resounding kiss. His lips move sloppily but demandingly. He grumbles as he turns to lay his back on the bed and sling and arm around your own. “So good for me.” He rumbles. “My best girl, hm?” You mumble in approval while he moves to kiss your cheek before standing. Your whines return as he begins to leave you, presumably to visit the tent of your living quarters. Not for the first time you are grateful your husband is given special privileges but detest the sight of his back. He chuckles low. “A moment, my love.” He leaves, presumably to find a cloth and water. Your slick glistens down your rear. 

Minutes pass, possibly twenty, possibly thirty but either way you are unsatisfied with your missing husband. You rise on shaky legs, bare all except a silk robe. Your feet lead you to the connecting tent, surprised at the closed sheets of it. Your breath hitches as you step toward the dark tent, your fingers about to part the sheets but two familiar voices interrupt the movement. “I heard you of course…” A Tyrell voice tuts and your eyes go wide. Surely she does not mean… “Denying your wife? I thought Starks were honourable.” A deep blush treads up your face with the wisps of wind. You shiver as the cold air creeps through your dress, hardening the pebbles beneath. You peek through the curtain and instantly clasp a hand over your mouth at the sight of your husband stiffened, the woman opposite trailing her fingers up his tunic. He snatches her wrist quickly and squeezes it harshly. You can hear her breath hitch. “What are you doing, Lady Tyrell?” Robb snarls to which she merely chuckles. She steps onto her tiptoes and leans into his ear. “I am going to teach you how to please your wife, how to please your Queen, how to…worship her.” She purrs the words like a playful kitten. His grip loosens enough for the highborn lady to grow bold and raise her other hand to his shoulder. He is silent as his eyes track her palm. It is almost soothing, the circles she rubs against the loose fabric. The wolf King clears his throat before he speaks. “How?” You would pity his vulnerable tone if it didn’t charge the throb of your pearl, if the pebbles of your breasts were not growing more sensitive with every word that flowed through your ears.

You almost gasp when you see her unravel two snakes of rope from beneath her skirt, letting it feed through her fingers as she pushes Robb down into a wooden chair though you are both aware it could not truly hold him unless he demanded his own body to still. Her hands glide down his arms, thick with muscle, her nails play with the top threads of his linen undershirt. The rose unlaces the ties of his shirt slowly, torturing. Your eyes hook their gaze to her fingers, mouth going dry at their graceful movements. She is a lot more experienced than she let on but it does not upset you...in fact it rather does the opposite, your pearl beginning to throb again. He watches her, eyes tracking her every motion. “Well first you are going to have to calm yourself. I would hate for her to join us too early, before we even have you prepared for her. You cannot see her face but you can imagine her serene smile. Her hands glide across his chest and push him down into a waiting chair. The bridge of rope between her hands follows down to slither between his legs. He grunts at the contact, his member still heavy from the activities before. He bites his lip. Margaery chuckles as she sinks to her knees and begins to bind his forearm to the wooden chair. “Do not worry, my King, we will fix that in a moment.” Your eyes widen and drink in the sight, watching as she binds his other arm as well. You gulp as she straddles his lap.

“Oh such a good boy…” Margaery coos, running her hand into the northerner’s hair and then gripping the curls tight. Having a King bound to a chair before you–inside a tent or not–is a rather quick way to encourage your confidence. For it to drip through your veins and pump the blood raucously. She smirks down at him as he groans. His eyes are as fierce as the wolf he is. “I almost feel guilty for playing with you but if you want to be a King, you will have to earn that right.” She licks her lips and dips a hand between her breasts. The King gasps, matching you simultaneously but then she pulls out a grey fabric and brings it to hover before his mouth. His eyes snap up to hers. “You must trust my practice, King Stark.” He growls but begrudgingly parts his lips enough to bare his wolfish teeth. Her giggling attracts your ears as she slides the gag in his mouth. She raises a single hand in the air and beckons you close. You freeze. “Come, my Queen.” Her free hand runs along his jaw then hardens it, pulling him closer with an intensity you didn’t expect. “He’s pretty isn’t he, dearest?” You merely nod, looking at your husband as the Tyrell tugs at him. Her eyes flit over to you as she smirks. “This is not the first time you have both played this game, is it?” Her grin deepens when your reluctant nod pleases her. Robb bites his lip, trying to hold back the moan. “I was wondering why you do not mind me playing with him but now I see…You enjoy it. Seeing someone else in power for once, taking him…” She slowly tilts her head. “Would you like to tame him? The big bad wolf? You will need to find your voice, pet.” A tentative step forward is all she needs to see to broaden her wicked grin. She slaps Robb’s cheek sharply and climbs off his lap. “There’s a smart girl.” Her hands reach you while her face squeals in girlish delight—a sight you are not used to. 

“We are going to have so much fun.” She purrs and releases one of your hands to stroke her index along a lock of your hair. Her eyes darken with a sea of lust pushing desperately against a restraining barrier. She brushes back your hair and leans closer until her breath is fanning across your lips. “And so we have acquired another player.” The sea crashes—taking your kiss with it—as she presses her lips to yours and drowns in it. Margaery Tyrell is a woman of many talents and one of those talents is knowing exactly what she wants but more importantly how to get it. A gasp slips from your mouth to hers as her fingers trail up your thigh. She slowly lowers herself until she has to pan her head to look at you. Her eyes stay misty. “I’ve always wanted to taste a Queen.” With the flick of her tongue, she pushes you back to lie on the table and spreads your legs with ease, rustling the wretched grey fabric. “Always so modest.” She tuts as she dives her face beneath and skips her tongue along your inner thigh. A rumble burns at your throat, your eyes squeeze as tight as your fists in anticipation. “So sweet,” Margaery commends before darting her muscle across your hidden pearl, wetting the fabric above. “Yes, I think I would like to join you on that throne of yours, we are going to have a lot of fun, sweet blossom.” Her hands turn commanding. “Oh such a good boy…” 

“We are going to have so much fun.” She purrs and releases one of your hands to stroke her index along a lock of your hair. Her eyes darken with a sea of lust pushing desperately against a restraining barrier. She brushes back your hair and leans closer until her breath is fanning across your lips. “And so we have acquired another player.” The sea crashes—taking your kiss with it—as she presses her lips to yours and drowns in it. Margaery Tyrell is a woman of many talents and one of those talents is knowing exactly what she wants but more importantly how to get it. A gasp slips from your mouth to hers as her fingers trail up your thigh. She slowly lowers herself until she has to pan her head to look at you. Her eyes stay misty. “I’ve always wanted to taste a Queen.” With the flick of her tongue, she pushes you back to lie on the table and spreads your legs with ease, rustling the wretched grey fabric of your robe. “Always so modest, hm? Don’t worry, we’ll fix that.” She tuts as she dives her face beneath and skips her tongue along your inner thigh. 

A rumble burns at your throat, your eyes squeeze as tight as your fists in anticipation. “So sweet,” Margaery commends before darting her muscle across your hidden pearl, wetting the fabric above. “Yes, I think I would like to join you on that throne of yours, we are going to have a lot of fun, sweet blossom.” Her hands turn demanding, her nails sinking into your thighs. A yelp rebounds from your lips in time with a distant growl. You sit upright on shaky elbows to let your heavy-lidded eyes gaze upon your needy husband, a dribble of saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth, gag wet. Perhaps fabric is not a desired material. She rolls an ‘r’ along your bud, delighting in your sharp intake of breath. Robb rumbles once more. Margaery sighs. “You can either behave or wait even longer. I will bring your wife to her peak once more for every sound that comes from your lips but you will receive nothing until you have learned to prioritise your beloved.” Her voice is muffled but resounding. She commands him as well as she would command a disobedient mutt. Her tongue licks up your residue. “If you were my wife, I would drink from you every waking moment and if I were your King, I would keep my face tucked between your thighs. Escaping my lips would be your hardest battle.” Margaery moans. Robb growls at the rose’s words but the soothing strokes of her tongue please you. 

She pulls back, smirking at the whines that drip from your mouth. “And so needy too.” She chuckles as she pulls away, her curls tickling up your thigh. You jump in sensitivity but it all makes her coo like caressing a flightless bird. “Aw, sweet darling. Need us to take care of you, huh? Is he not taking care of you? Poor thing…We’ll just have to take care of you, ourselves.” A deep growl permeates from your husband, his arms straining against his ties but as your eyes linger on his form, his cock looks aching as it strains through his trousers, the tip of it wetting the fabric. The poor man must be absolutely throbbing and yet that doesn’t make you pity him, it only entices you. Margaery raises a finger to rub pressured circles on your bud. She chuckles when you hiss and your elbows collapse you to lie back on the table again. The image of your husband’s hungry face lingers in your mind but it’s Margaery’s hair that you move to grasp between your fingers. Your hips grind as her tongue returns to lap at you. “That’s it,” You encourage, delighting in the wet noise.And then it comes again, the sensitivity crashing over your cunt. Your eyes shut tight and your face scrunches up as a long pitiful whine pushes past your lips. The whimper of the Stark King only sends another wave to flow onto Margaery’s tongue who doesn’t lessen her pace until she can swallow down every drop. 

Your body falls imp, sprawled out. Your legs tremble as they hang off the side of the table but finally Margaery’s greed softens and she pulls back. Your glistening wetness still coats her lips as they grin up at you. Her hands slither up your body, starting at your thighs until they settle on your waist. She squeezes gently before spreading them. You hiss briefly but are quickly hushed when she kisses up your neck in soothing patterns. “I will not mark you yet.” She whispers in purring vibration. “But if you ever tire of wolves, I will be but a moment away.” She kisses the space behind your ear. A tempting little rose she is as she pulls away, cupping your hands as she tugs you to stand on your shaky legs. She tuts. “So used today, don’t worry, it’s your turn.” The scent of her hair wafts thickly up your nose, clouding your other senses as she pulls you, one arm now around your waist. When you finally look up from the floor, you see Robb’s piercing eyes waiting for you with the patience of a wild boar. She slowly winds your legs so you can straddle your husband who quickly nuzzles against your neck. Margaery delights as she wraps around you from behind, kissing up your opposing shoulder as her hands help yours to slip down Robb’s smallclothes. However, it is you who raises your fingers to tear open the offending fabric on your husband’s chest and who rips the gag away to replace it with your lips. He grunts and ruts his hips. His member throbs, the top purple and preening for attention. You can almost feel it begging. Margaery’s warm palms roll your hips, grinding you against it but you do not complain. His lips are wet with saliva and sweat but it doesn’t deter you, letting the salt flit across your tongue. 

Margaery praises you as you gather the strength to slide onto his length, gasping out as it fills you for the first time in a week. He groans loudly, eyes already rolling back, it’s the final straw for him to snap off the ropes and capture your hips while you sink onto him. When you finally drop onto him, your arms hook around his neck. “Be good for me, that’s it,” You encourage as he whimpers like a pup. Margaery beams with pride as she brings her fingers to roll your nipples back and forth. “Tell her how much you want it.” Margaery prompts, voice growing gravelled. “That you want her, that you want to fill that sweet little pussy, hm?” Robb nods, and thrusts hard into you, a yelp streaming from your lips. “I want you.” He moans, hot breath panting as his grip tightens. “Want you more than I’ve wanted anything. Iw ould give up my crown and my line for you.” A high pitched noise escapes you as your hips rock faster back and forth. “Want to keep you full of me. You want that? You want me to keep you full?” Your nods are all he needs to finally let loose and spill, you tighten as Margaery flicks the pebbles of your breasts. You throw your head back but the rose of Highgarden is quick to rake one hand into your hair and tug you to face her. “That’s right, my queen. Release for us.” And you do, your womanhood spasming as a thick cream rings around your husband’s who sighs breathily and kisses up your neck. A line of wetness slides up as your companion chuckles low. 

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[fantasydreamland]

Handmaiden

margaery tyrell x fem reader

Summary: Margaery is currently engaged to Renly Baratheon. You are Margaerys new hand maiden. You figure Margaery just has a flirty personality until one night it becomes more.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! This is my first time ever writing smut, wlw, lots of tension, possible spoilers

“Ah you must be my new hand maiden!” Margaery greets you with a warm smile as you walk into her chambers.

“Yes my lady. My name is (y/n). Whatever you need I’m here.” You give a shy curtsy.

“I was just getting ready to leave for tea with my grandmother. Come along then.” She waves to you as she walks out the door.

You follow along behind her to the gardens. She stops for a moment so she can walk beside you.

“So tell me about yourself.” She smiles.

“Uh… yes of course. What do you want to know my lady?”

“Everything! For starters tell me about where you are from.”

As you two walk side by side you tell her about the small city in the North you grew up in and the lady you served until her very recent death.

“How awful…” She frowns and shakes her head.

“Yes, her death was a bit unexpected. I didn’t have many options, so I ended up here.”

“Well I’m very glad for that.” She smiles.

You chuckle and look down awkwardly.

“Ah grandmother!” Margaery rushes ahead to greet her grandmother with a quick hug. They sit down to tea and the servants bring out trays of pastries and fruit.

“Lady Olenna” You curtsy before walking past her at the table. She gives you a small smile and a nod.

You stand quietly off to the side listening them chat away. Margaery would make occasional eye contact and you give a small smile before shyly looking away each time.

You helped tidy up as the evening ended feeling her eyes on you the entire time.

Both of you walk back to the castle in an oddly comfortable silence as the sun starts to set.

“Will you please draw me a bath?” She says once you reach the castle. She lightly touches your arm and your face gets hot. “I have some affairs to attend to.”

“Of course my lady.” You nod before heading to her chambers and drawing a hot bath.

Shortly after the bath is drawn she reappears.

“Oh lovely, is it ready?” She asks as she starts to undress.

You try to hide your surprise when she takes off all her clothing, tossing her dress onto a chair.

She walks right past you and gets into the tub. She sighs with her eyes closed and sinks into the water before looking at you.

She smirks. “Help me with my hair?” She lifts her hair to hang over the back of the tub.

You nod, unable to get words out. You pull a chair behind the tub and grab the jug next to it before putting it in the tub to get some water. The jug lightly brushes Margaerys stomach and she gives a small chuckle and smirk. Surely she saw your flushed cheeks. You didn’t understand the heat in your face or why your heart was racing. You’ve helped with plenty of baths with the last lady you served. But this felt different.

You pour the water onto her hair as it drips into the bucket below. You softly work your fingers through her hair to wash it. Trying your best not to stare at her perfect body you take another careful scoop of water. Then you slowly rinse her hair as she lets out a content sigh.

“You have no idea the stress I have had lately.” She suddenly speaks.

“I’m sorry to hear that my lady.”

“You would think I would be looking forward to my wedding but…” She trails off.

“You do not love Lord Renly?” The question slips out. “Forgive me, my lady. I don’t mean to pry.”

“There is nothing to forgive (y/n).” She smirks up at you. “But no…” Her expression softens. “We certainly are not in love.”

“You don’t think he loves you?” You ask.

She chuckles softly and shakes her head. “I am not his type.”

You scoff. “That’s not possible. You’re so beautiful.” Your face quickly turns more red, embarrassed.

She sits up in the tub and slightly turns around to face you.

“I’m glad you think so.” She smirks. “I know Renly agrees, only… He seems to be more interested in my brother, if you understand my meaning.” She tilts her head.

“Oh”

She says nothing else just continues looking at you. You hold eye contact for a long moment until she suddenly shakes her head like she was lost in thought.

“Right. Well, I best get ready for bed.”

She stands up from the tub and steps out, water dripping on the floor. You grab a robe for her and find it nearly impossible to keep your eyes off her wet naked body. The air feels heavier and you find it difficult to breathe. She smiles warmly at you when you wrap her in the robe.

“Goodnight then.” She says sweetly.

“Goodnight my lady.” You curtsy before leaving her chambers.

Once you step into the hallway and close the door you let out a very deep breath. That night you toss and turn finding it hard to remove Margaery from your thoughts.

-

The next day is slow and normal. You do your chores and follow Margaery while she goes about her day. She would start small chats with you while you were walking, seeming very happy to talk to you. She asked about your love life which you found amusing because it’s very dull. You’ve only been with one man in your life and you didn’t find it enjoyable.

Later you help her prepare for supper as she changes her dress to a lovely but simple red gown. She slips off her dress standing in only her under garments. She holds your hand and smiles at you as you help her step into the gown and pull it up. You lightly move her hair from the back and your fingers brush against her soft skin causing some electricity. Your hands shake a bit as you pull the corset strings in the back of her gown. There is a silent tension in the air.

“Thank you.” She says as she moves her hair back into place giving a shy smile. “Well I don’t want to be late for supper, I’ll see you later on.” She hurries out the door before you have a chance to respond.

You enjoy your own small supper before returning to your tasks. As you finish tidying up her chambers she appears. She doesn’t even look at you, just storms over to her bad and sits down.

“Are you alright my lady?” You asked, concerned.

She looks up at you as if she didn’t realize you were there. “Yes, I’m alright. It’s fine.” She huffs, clearly not alright.

“It’s just-“ she continues before you respond. “Renly and Loras can be so thick headed.”

You walk closer as you listen to her vent.

“I understand they’re in love. And I’m completely fine with that. Happy for them even!” She shakes her head. “But we are engaged to be wed. You’d think he would at least TRY to be discreet when they’re running around with one another.”

She looks at you listening to her and pats the space beside her on the bed to gesture you to sit down, so you sit next to her keeping an appropriate distance.

“I’m still to be his wife. There should just be a certain level of respect, you know?” She continues ranting, moving closer to you as she does. You nod.

“I’ve been more than respectful to his wishes, wanting to be with Loras. I do not blame him for that. We do not really get to choose who we love.” She looks up at you, her blue eyes piercing through you.

“I completely agree with you my lady. They should be acting discreetly. I think it’s very noble that you allow him to even pursue that.” You reply warmly. “But as you said, we cannot choose who we love.”

“Thank you (y/n).” She says softly and places her hand on yours.

Her touch makes your heart race and cheeks flush. “Of course my lady.”

She leaves her hand there for a long moment as she studies your face to try to figure out what you’re thinking. You sit there quietly looking back at her, wondering about her thoughts too.

The seemingly long moment ends when she moves her hand from yours and reaches up to brush your hair from your face. You continue staring in eachothers eyes. The whole moment making you feel light headed. Her eyes slowly flicker from your lips back to your eyes. You couldn’t help but do the same.

She leans towards you agonizingly slow until your lips finally touch.

“Oh gods, I am so sorry.” She suddenly pulls away and gets off the bed.

“No, no. It’s alright.” You also stand. “I didn’t- You just-“ you stutter unable to get words out.

She looks back at you clearly embarrassed. She looks like she’s waiting for you to speak but your brain is fogging all your thoughts and words. Instead you walk closer before taking her hand in yours and looking back up at her.

Suddenly her lips are back on yours as she pulls you into a deep passionate kiss, moving her other hand to your cheek. You push your bodies against eachother as the kiss continues. Your body feels like it was set on fire as your skin burns from the excitement.

For a moment she pulls away, keeping your hand in hers she leads you to her bed. She lets go of your hand and unties the top of her dress, exposing her breasts. You can’t tell if you’re even breathing as the whole world feels still. She smirks at you and turns around.

“Help me with the back?” She asks.

You nod and start untying her gown and corset as your mind races thinking of what’s to come.

Once everything is loose enough she lifts all her clothing over her head. You try to swallow but there’s a knot in your throat as she stands naked in front of you. She pushes your hair back and lightly touches your shoulder, gesturing you to take off your dress. You follow her silent instructions and pull your sleeves downs off your arms, exposing your chest. She looks at you for a moment before leaning into another kiss. The kiss is slow and gentle, your chests pressed against one another. She brushes your arm before moving her hand between your bodies and grabbing your breast. She helps you pull the rest of your dress off before the kiss breaks and you both get into the bed.

Once you’ve slipped under the sheets you look into eachothers eyes for a silent moment, taking in eachothers beauty.

She places her hand on your cheek. “Are you sure?” Her face full of worry that you may change your mind in wanting her.

You quickly nod, having no doubts this is what you want. She smirks before crashing her mouth onto yours. The kiss is strong and heated, full of pent up lust. You pull eachother closer, legs intertwined. Both your hands wander all over, exploring every inch eachothers bodies. She moans once your fingers find her most intimate place. The beautiful sounds coming out of her light a fire in your stomach. Her hand quickly reaches the same place on your body. You whimper into eachothers mouths as the tension below your stomach builds and builds. Nearly in unison you hit the peak. The kiss breaks as you both cry out loudly, foreheads pressed together.

You both lay back and pant as you catch your breath. You try to bring your mind back to earth as it continues to race at what just happened. She turns her head and smiles at you. You give a shy smile back.

“Well…” She huffs, still breathless. “That was…”

“Wonderful?” You smirk.

She nods and giggles. “Yes, very wonderful.”

“I’ve never…” You hesitate. “Been with… a woman.”

“Neither have I.” She admits and you both giggle.

You look out to the now dark night sky. Margaery notices.

“Would you like to stay?” She asks. “There’s plenty of room to sleep.”

“I would but… I’m not sure it would be proper.”

“What we just did would also not seem proper.” She teases.

“Alright then.” You give a soft smile.

You lightly place your hand on her cheek and she leans into your touch.

“Goodnight my lady.”

“Goodnight (y/n).” She sighs.

She snuggles up closer to you. She gives your shoulder a soft kiss before resting her head. You smile and fall into a peaceful sleep.

-

The next morning you let out a soft moan to Margaery kissing your neck. She looks at you when she sees you’re awake. She has a firey look in her blue eyes as she gives you a longing stare before moving her lips back to your neck. She kisses an agonizingly slow trail as she moves down and down your stomach. She begins kissing on your inner thigh. You whine in frustration. Suddenly her mouth is on you and you gasp. Your hands reach for her hair as she teases you with her tongue. You gasp and let out small moans as she holds your hips still. Your sweet sounds make her moan onto you only sending more electricity through your body. You start to lose control when she enters two of her fingers, keeping in rhythm with her tongue. Your pants eventually turn into a silent scream and you arch your hips against her face as you see stars.

You let out a final moan before a heavy sigh as your body relaxes. Margaery wipes her face and moves back up the bed to lay beside you. You pull her in for a strong kiss tasting yourself on her mouth.

“Good morning (y/n).” She smirks.

“Good morning.” You give a shy laugh.

Before you can lean over to kiss her again she gets out of bed and begins to get dressed. You sit up holding the covers and watch her.

She notices you looking at her. “My apologies love, I have many things I must attend to today.”

You try to hide your disappointment, badly wanting to return the favour and to taste her on your tongue. She walks back over to you and asks you to help with her dress. You shuffle to the end of the bed and tie the laces. She turns to you noticing your mood. She leans down and brushes your hair aside.

“But I will return later. We will be together again very soon.” She kisses you with her soft lips.

Once she’s gone you get out of bed and begin to dress. You spend your entire day in a daze, all the memories of her clouding your mind. You count down the hours until you have her alone again.

#margaery tyrell #margaery #margaery x reader #margaery smut #margaery tyrell x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones smut #GOT #Margaery GOT #sansa x margaery #fanfic #game of thrones fanfic #wlw #lgbt #wlw smut #wlw fanfic

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Margaery Tyrell Headcanons

❝ ...a lovely young girl with doe's eyes and a cascade of soft brown hair.❝ 

[ SFW + Fem Terms Used]

Pairing: Margaery Tyrell x Fem!Snow!Reader

A/N: I miss her to a concerning level. She really was a queen in every aspect and I personally need her so bad.

🌷 You’d been one of the famed Stark bastards. Twin to Jon Snow. Growing up was odd. You were raised beside the Stark family yet felt like an outsider. Some family were kind enough: Ned, Arya, Robb. But some were more critical like Catelyn and Sansa.

🌷 You were made to be a proper lady although you’d never live the life of one. When Ned had to go to King’s Landing, you went as well. After all, Catelyn would dislike seeing lingering around still.

🌷 And so you endured King’s Landing beside Sansa as one of her ladies-in-waitings. Even in her grief where she would scream at you, you were always there still. She was your sister even if you were a bastard.

🌷 And then came the Tyrells to save the Battle of Blackwater. You watched along with Sansa as Margaery presented herself to Joffrey, wanting to be his new queen. You couldn’t even pay attention to the weight of her words when she glanced over at you by the rafters above and your heart stopped.

🌷 Margaery was beautiful and she knew it as well as anyone. She was the definition of a lady and you swore you seemed more like a desperate man in love the way your eyes followed after Margaery in the hall.

🌷 And the worst part was how she met your eyes and kept the gaze while she left.

🌷 Margaery was no Varys or Littlefinger, having spies all across the land to tell her information but your eyes were evident in what they said.

🌷 Love was always apparent in someone’s eyes.

🌷 Margaery’s personality molds into whoever she needs it to be for a specific situation or toward a specific person. And she’d use this ability to her advantage.

🌷 You didn’t know when it started that Margaery would find a way to sneak into your chambers. She had a coy smile as she came up from behind to purposefully frighten you before kissing you.

🌷 Her playfulness was something that made you fall harder. She seemed to always be smiling. Always laughing. She was perfect and yet so simply elegant.

🌷 You two had to be secret for a number of reasons.

🌷 Firstly, Joffrey was her betrothed and he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to put you both down for finding out what you had done with Margaery.

🌷 If Joffrey didn’t, the church would certainly love to. They’d spin the story of the dishonest Stark bastard who seduced the lovely rose of Highgarden.

🌷 And, lastly, you were a bastard. Period. There was no world where you could be with her if it wasn’t in secret.

🌷 But you couldn’t pull yourself away from her. Whenever you worried of the consequences, Margaery was coiled around you, whispering your worries away.

🌷 “My love… There is nothing to fear. This is our secret. One we’ll keep for a lifetime if need be. When I’m queen, I will make sure no harm ever comes to you. I promise you.”

🌷 And Margaery knew how to play her cards right. If Joffrey questioned why she spent time with you at all, she always held a reason for it. Stroke his ego just enough to keep you beside her.

🌷 Her family were not idiots either. They were perhaps the only ones to notice how Margaery looked at you. It was dangerous for her plan of being queen if found out but, with that boy wrapped around her finger, who’d believe such a rumor?

🌷 Margaery enjoyed listening to you talk more than she liked to. Learning everything she could about you, interests, hobbies, and life story—She was fascinated by all of it.

🌷 Surrounded by flowers and flower imagery constantly from birth made Margaery’s head ache in truth but being in love with you made her want to give you flowers. And her flowers were not random picks.

🌷 Margaery would leave you a bouquet with a note in black ink or red ink. Black ink meant the bouquet were of healing herbs. Red ink meant the bouquet were of poisonous flowers.

🌷 Just like her, they were gorgeous on the outside but devious in use. Whatever kept her secret beloved safe.

🌷Margaery’s main Love Languages to give are: Acts of Service and Physical Touch.

🌷 Margaery knows the power that she holds in court and is no stranger to using it to her advantage or wants.

🌷 She appointed guards to protect you and Sansa to make sure of your safety. It was ever important to her.

🌷 She was the one to allow more of your freedom to roam about rather than be trapped solely in your chambers that felt more like a prison cell.

🌷 Margaery enjoyed sending off lemon cakes to your chambers as a little gift while you were out so you'd come back with them ready for you.

🌷 Margaery's favorite Love Languages to receive are: Physical Touch and Quality Time.

🌷 While Margaery has accustomed to playing herself up with a mask, she can't help but swoon when it comes to physical touch.

🌷 Alone in your chambers at night, she's dying to be kissed and held by you. It's as though you were a safety where she could just melt completely in your arms.

🌷 Anytime she gets time with you, she's overjoyed. It's so much more comforting than to be around the Lannisters in a game of lies.

🌷 One of her favorites is to just listen to you talk about your hobbies and your life in Winterfell.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #margaery tyrell #margaery x reader #margaery x y/n #margaery x you #margaery tyrell x reader #margaery tyrell x y/n #got x reader #game of thrones x reader

[imshylesbi]

FINISHED!!!

***Seven different smutty endings***

*ADULT CONTENT*

#ao3 #x reader #gxg smut #smut #fanfic #smutty #explict #gxg #very smutty #lesbians #game of thrones #daenerys x reader #cersei lannister x reader #melisandre x reader #ellaria sand x reader #margaery x reader #brienne x reader #daenerys targeryan #cersei lannister #melisandre #margaery tyrell #sansa x reader #sansa stark #brienne of tarth #lesbian fic #smutt #finished

[llonelygoddess]

How they react to...Finding out you're pregnant

Romantic Pairings: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Theon Greyjoy, Jaime Lannister, Khal Drogo, Jorah Mormont, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Gendry

Ned Stark: This man is over the moon when you tell him you’re expecting. He’s raised 5 already but for you he’d raise another 5 if possible lol He’s always got his hands on your belly and asking if you need anything. His favorite thing to do is talking to the baby later at night when you’re asleep, whispering how much it’ll be loved and cared for by the both of you.

Margaery Tyrell: Thrilled. You two definitely planned this pregnancy so she’s thrilled to hear you’ve finally conceived. She’s keeping Maesters around the clock just for you and making sure you have regular check ups. You both love looking at all the fabrics and books and toys you’ll be gifting your baby. She wants this child to have everything she had and more, so beware your child may be spoiled rotten lol

Pre Reek!Theon Greyjoy: Theon doesn’t even know what to say. He’s nervous about what that would mean for you and the child title wise. Would the babe be labeled a bastard? Would you be treated as a whore? The questions will drive him crazy if you don’t bring him back down to earth. As much as he’s there for you, you have to be there for him during this time.

Jaime Lannister: In the beginning he’s more worried than anything. Knowing how crazy Cersei is he has to hide you away, promising to be with you soon. Once he finds a way to sneak away to you for good, he’s all hands on deck. He’d learn to cook a bit, take up the cleaning, even learn to stitch a little to give the baby an embroidered blanket. It’s not what you expected but considering his other kids barely know him it makes sense how serious he is about this one. He wants to get it right this time.

Khal Drogo: He sees you as his goddess, mesmerized with the way you carry his child. He kisses your belly and announces it to the whole Khalasar. During your pregnancy he doesn’t baby you, finding beauty in your strength, but he is wary of you being around the other men. They’re rough and callous and you are soft and breakable, something that keeps him up at night. Whenever he goes out riding he always comes back with a gift that he presents to you in front of everyone.

Jorah Mormont: He never thought he’d be lucky enough to have children, especially with someone as special as you. He’s definitely crying when he hears the news. He can’t help it, a family of his own is all he’s ever wanted. Even knowing how strong you are, he’ll ask you to stay home and to let him do any and all work that needs to be done. He’s heard horror stories of pregnancies going wrong and he refuses to let anything happen to you.

Brienne of Tarth: Finding out you're pregnant would be the scariest moment of her life. Which isn't to say she doesn't want kids, but the world you live in wasn't ready for a relationship like yours. Two non-men finding love within each other wasn't accepted, let alone them raising a child together. Eventually, through many talks with you and Podrick, she calms down enough to enjoy this special moment in time with you.

Missandei: When Missandei first finds out, she's immediately in preparation mode. With the life she's lived she knows how cruel and evil life can be, so she takes it upon herself to make everything as perfect for you and the babe as possible. She’s asking Danaerys for healers and compiling blankets and toys from nearby towns. You’ll want for nothing with her by your side. When she’s not in crisis mode she’s sitting with you in bed fantasizing about the languages and history she’ll teach the baby.

Podrick: He gets so overwhelmed when you tell him he faints. Poor bb. When he wakes he asks if it was a dream and when you tell him no he kisses you. He’s another one that never really thought about having a family but he’s more than ready and capable of doing it. He’s always gushing about you and the baby to Brienne or really anyone who’ll listen. Loves to put his ear to your belly and just listen.

Gendry: He never planned to have kids so young, but when you told him about the baby he realized this was his moment to step up and be better. Being a Lord now he’s able to take care of you in ways he never thought he could. Giving you a handmaid and guards is just the beginning of how he wants to support you. He worries all nine months about whether he'll be good enough for your babe, so please rub his back and tell him he'll be the best dad ever. And he will.

#game of thrones preferences #game of thrones #game of thrones headccanons #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #ned stark x reader #margaery tyrell x reader #khal drogo x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #gendry x reader #podrick x reader #missandei x reader #jorah mormont x reader #jaime lannister #theon greyjoy x reader #got x reader #got fanfiction #got #got headcanons

[claymoresword]

Wild Nights

Margaery Tyrell x Baratheon Fem!Reader

Summary: Margaery Tyrell has a long term secret affair with the King's oldest sister.

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, transmasc coded reader, alpha/beta/omega dynamics if you squint, breeding kink, cheating, penetrative sex, blow job, porn absolutely no plot

Note: ok this is totally self indulgent and literally no one asked for it but i've had the idea floating around in my mind since i finished GOT literally 9 months ago but i finally found the motivation to sit down and write so here it is...

not sure if anyone is gonna even click on this tbh but if you're here hi! enjoy!

Just as you are about to drift off into a slumber, you're jolted awake at the sound of knocking on your door.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you glanced at the window, it was still pitch black out, as you were well into the hour of the owl.

For a moment you wonder if you had imagined the noise, but when you hear the same knocking again, you climb out of bed.

"Who goes there?" You asked as you approached the door but you received no response.

Curiosity gets the better of you, with a firm hand on the knob you pull the door open slightly, your expression immediately relaxes once you realize who it was standing on the other side.

"Hello, y/n" Your sister in law greets you.

The Queen stood with her arms wrapped around herself, her robe clearly not providing her adequate warmth as she shudders.

The fireplace alight in your chambers being the only reason you aren't affected by the piercing chill of the night.

You find yourself taking in Margaery's appearance; only in her nightgown and robe, her hair loose and unkept. You study the charming curve of her lips as she gazes at you. Even in the dead of the night, she remains breathtaking.

"Your Grace, is everything alright?" You ask with real concern, the expression the other woman gives you in return is sheepish.

"I could not find sleep." Margaery admits and your stare turns incredulous, but you remain unmoving.

"May I come in?" She asks after a beat and you remain silent but you finally pull your door open wider, allowing her to enter.

**

As soon as you shut the door, Margaery is on you.

She kisses you, heavy and desperate, her body flush against yours. It shocks your entire system, however, the feeling quickly morphs into a wave of arousal as her tongue enters your mouth.

You feel your cock beginning to harden in your breeches as you rest your hand on the small of her back before moving it to grip her waist.

"Wait–" You say breaking the kiss, Margaery makes no attempt to hide her fervor; she chases your lips, before halting to meet your gaze.

"Shouldn't you be in bed with your husband?" You taunt, although already knowing the response.

Since they've gotten married Margaery has shown no true interest in Tommen. It was you she wanted from the start, you she would have chosen to wed if the matter of union was up to her.

The glint in Margaery's eye as she prepares to answer only works to excite you further.

"I don't want my husband." She responds, capturing your lips for another searing kiss, this time you chase her lips as she pulls away.

"He is clumsy and inadequate." Margaery quips, kissing you again. She leans back slightly to playfully tug on your bottom lip with her teeth.

Once again you feel blood rushing directly to your groin, your cock now throbbing as your breath shallows.

Margaery notices immediately as the hardened bulge remains pressed up against her thigh. A shiver runs through you as you watch her smirk grow.

"Whereas, you always know where to put your hands.." She explains, tilting her head to plant a lingering kiss on your jaw before moving to your neck.

You feel her hot breath against your skin as she reaches down to boldly palm you over your breeches.

"You know exactly where to kiss me." Margaery whispers before placing an open mouthed kiss on your neck, you have to fight the urge to grind your member into her hand.

"You know how to make me feel good." The Queen adds, her mouth now lingering over your ear, she plants a wet kiss against it and she moves her hand so she may begin unlacing your breeches.

"Fuck–" You say, already so unbelievably aroused, your cock straining almost painfully.

You reach down to assist her, hastily undoing the laces before pulling down your breeches.

Margaery merely chuckles darkly at your impatience.

You pull down your pants, finally revealing your cock, hard to the touch and already dripping with your seed.

Margaery's eyes remain on the length in between your legs, her expression betrays a raw and primal hunger.

You grab a handful of her hair, pulling her close for a sloppy kiss, one she reciprocates eagerly, you don't pull away until you are both panting.

"Get on your knees, sweet girl. I want to feel your pretty mouth around my cock." You order with a firm hand still gripping a handful of Margaery's hair.

The Queen obeys with no protest, you watched as she kneeled before you.

Margaery swipes her thumb across the head, lubricating it with your own release. She then wraps her fingers around your girth, stroking it with purpose and dexterity.

Her hand felt good, but it was not enough.

With your hand still firmly on the back of her head, you guide her face closer, desperate to feel her mouth.

Margaery decides to give you what you need, she runs her tongue down your length before finally wrapping her mouth around the tip. She takes in a deep breath, lowering herself, soon she has all of you in her mouth, her tongue flat against your cock as she sucks.

"Fuck– You mouth feels amazing." You praise through pants, and Margaery lets out a moan in response.

Her mouth continues to work towards your pleasure, she lowers her head further, you let out a groan as the tip of your cock comes into contact with the back of her throat.

"I'm close–" You say, and Margaery continues her steady pace, sucking your cock like her life depended on it.

You shut your eyes as you rest your head against the door. Soon you are unable to focus on anything beyond the feeling of Margaery's talented mouth as she brings you to your release.

You empty yourself in her mouth, the Queen makes no effort to pull away, placing a firm hand on your rear to hold you close as she swallows every drop.

You release your grip on her hair and the other woman finally pulls away, your member falls out of her mouth as she does.

You swiftly bend down, crashing your lips against Margaery's as she rises, your tongue enters her mouth shamelessly and without reserve, tasting your own release.

In just a few moments you feel your cock return to its hardened state once again.

You pull Margaery closer, until her body is flush against your own, you wish to ravage her, worship her, wreck her, just to put her back together again.

"My turn." You breathe out against her lips, swiftly pulling her robe off her body.

**

You kick away your own breeches that were pooled by your feet before lifting your nightshirt over your head.

You attempt to do the same with Margaery's nightgown but she stops you with a hand on your wrist.

"Is something the matter?" You ask, even though Margaery's face indicates nothing of the sort.

"No, nothing is wrong. I just wish to go slowly, if you don't mind." The other woman says, biting her lip.

"Ofcourse, anything you want." You reassure, and Margaery grins.

"Good." She says, getting on her tiptoes to kiss you again, she begins leading you to the bed.

The back of your knees hit the bedframe and Margaery nudges you by the chest slightly, gesturing for you to take a seat.

You watched intently as she kicked off her footwear before moving her hands to the laces of her nightgown.

However, her movements are tantalizingly slow, and you are only growing increasingly mad with need.

Your mouth remains agape as you observe her and Margaery has to purse her lips, stifling her amusement.

Then it finally occurs to you; Margaery doesn't want to go slowly for her own benefit, she only aims to torture you.

"My love.." You plead.

The other woman merely smiles, feigned innocence.

"Hm?" Margaery says as she finally grabs the hem of her nightgown, but she's still not moving fast enough.

Your cock remained unbearably hard, standing at attention.

You take it upon yourself to start stroking your length, in an attempt to take advantage of the sight before you and douse the burning heat at the pit of your stomach.

Margaery is finally naked, she soon steps closer, lifting your chin before capturing your lips with hers. She then reaches down to grab your hand, pulling it away so you would stop pleasuring yourself.

Before you get a chance to protest, the other woman finally climbs onto the bed, situating her legs on either side of your lap, languidly straddling you. Your mouth continues moving against hers with intensity and desperation.

Margaery's hands remain on your shoulders as she steadies herself, and you prepare yourself, but much to your dismay, the Queen makes no effort to make you enter her.

As her lips leave yours, your expression is almost pained but Margaery only seems to thrive off it.

"Do you want me?" She asks, grinding her heat against the length of your cock, coating it with her arousal.

"I do– please." Your voice trembles with need, as you grip her waist firmly attempting to guide her, but the other woman does not budge.

The tip of your cock is now prodding her entrance, you can feel just how wet she is, but Margaery's composure doesn't falter.

You decide to take a different approach.

"I want to feel your tight cunt wrapped around me. I want to stretch you out until you're all sore, until you have trouble walking and sitting down on the morrow." You say, and it works to break her resolve.

Margaery's gaze visibly darkens as she grips the base of your length, holding it place as she lowers herself onto you.

You both throw your head back at the initial sensation, Margaery lets out an unrestrained moan and you respond with a groan.

Her cunt felt so warm and wet, it made you see stars. As she begins to move her hips, the Queen moans again, loud and unapologetic.

You were certain in the quiet of the night, the entire Red Keep would be privy to her blatant calls of pleasure, but neither of you cared.

Margaery's fingers threaded through your hair before she roughly grabbed a handful of it. You wince at the sensation, but the pain quickly dissappears within the immense pleasure you feel as Margaery picks up the pace.

The Queen's gasps are broken and incoherent, the feeling of your cock repeatedly hitting the right spots within her, stretching her out in the best way, makes it impossible for her to catch her breath.

You lean forward to swipe your tongue across one of her nipples before wrapping your lips around it as you begin sucking.

Margaery lets out a wretched whine at the feeling, she moves her hips harder as you turn your attention to her other breast.

"Does my cock feel good, my love?" You ask, a firm hand against her jaw so she's forced to look at you.

"Yes– so good– You always make me feel so good." Margaery admits in between pants before throwing her head back once again.

You can tell her release is approaching as her movements grow inconsistent, her walls clenched tightly around your girth.

Soon Margaery comes undone on your cock, her moans reverberating through your chambers as the orgasm rips through her.

She goes slack on top of you from the sheer force of it, resting her head on your shoulder as she attempts to catch her breath.

"Seven Hells." Margaery says, you feel her breath against your neck as she does.

**

The Queen is still trembling when you decide to flip your positions, the other woman lets out a gasp as you expertly lift her up before carefully laying her down onto the mattress.

You don't allow Margaery time to question it before you begin your thrusts, your cock still hard, hitting a spot deep within her.

"Oh, Gods– y/n" She moans, her hands find your back, her nails continue digging into your skin as you moved your hips, hard and fast.

With every gasp and moan from Margaery, you retaliate with grunts and groans. Her cunt feels so tight and wet around you, every thrust pushes you closer to your release.

You lean down to kiss the other woman and she kisses you back, open mouthed and messy.

You then tilt your head to do the same to her neck. You sink your teeth into her skin, leaving an ugly bruise just above her pulse point.

Margaery lets out a low groan at the sensation, pulling you closer by the back of your neck.

As the coil in your stomach tightens, you forcibly hold yourself up by your forearms, slowing down your thrusts in the process but keeping them just as deep.

"Shall I release my seed inside of you, sweet girl?" You ask, planting a chaste kiss against Margaery's cheek.

"Make you fat with my child again, would you like that?" You add, your fingers sinking into the flesh of her hip as she keeps her legs firmly wrapped around your waist.

Margaery nods, eager and ready, her own orgasm slowly creeping up on her.

"Yes– please– y/n, fill me with your seed. I wish to bear a dozen of your children, only yours." The Queen says, and it pushes you over the edge.

The coil finally snaps, and you release your seed deep inside Margaery's wanting cunt. At the same time, you feel her walls tighten around you as she lets out a loud moan, the Queen climaxed for the second time that night.

You collapse on top of her, unable to support your own weight any longer. Your bodies now slick with sweat, both of your chests heaving as you ride out your peak.

Margaery gently threads her fingers through your hair as you attempt to regain your strength.

"I love you." The Queen admits earnestly, just above a whisper, and your heart pounds and constricts with adoration for the other woman.

"I love you more." You respond, lifting your head to look at her.

#margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell x reader #g!p #g!p reader #baratheon reader #tommen baratheon #cersei lannister #sansaery #sansa stark

[luna-writes-stuff]

What types my favourite Game Of Thrones characters would fall for

Includes Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Oberyn Martell, Margaery Tyrell, Brienne Of Tarth, Daenerys Targaryen, and Tormund Giantsbane

————————————————————————

Robb Stark:

Robin Stark is 100% the person to fall for personality rather than looks. And something he has always admired, is someone with a creative mind. In the North, there is a lot of pessimism and realism. There isn’t much room for glee, daydreaming and imagination. So when he first meets you in one of the garden, writing away in your own notebook filled with words of your own worlds and thoughts, he is intrigued. Of course, you are adamant about talking about your work, let alone show it. But Robb is patient. He spends every single day talking to you, entertaining you and even accompanying you on walks. This man is completely gone for you. So, when you ultimately decide to give him a sneak peek, his entire face lights up. And your writing? It’s insane. He needs a library filled with your books right now. He is constantly asking about new ideas, even offering some, though they’re usually a tad bit….dark. But he tries! Will absolutely brag about it to others. He knows you don’t like to show everyone, but he will definitely let others know that his significant other can write. Don’t ever shut up about your ideas and prompts. This man wants to hear all of them. Every single one, even the late night cold sweat dream ones.

——

Sansa Stark:

Sansa can be rough around the edges. And who is to blame her after all she’s been dragged through? She needs someone who will look at things the kinder way, yet be decisive. Someone who can make interest out of the best of their heart. Sansa deals with issues from a neutral perspective, unless it is something close to her. But she can use a compassionate look at things. Then, all the same, she needs a supporting shoulder constantly. Someone who is able to slightly alter her decisions, but still let her do the main thing. If she wishes to have someone punished, they will. But all in good due. When the sun sets, she can let her guard down and rant about all the issues on her mind. She needs a confidential person for that, and who better than you? A comforting hand, a loving embrace, a gentle kiss. A good nice rest in the arms of those she loves most.

——

Jon Snow:

Jon has humour. He does. It’s hidden, but he does. And we saw how he was with Ygritte. Make him laugh in any way, and his heart can - and will - skip a beat. Whether it is because you are clumsy, childish, mischievous, or simply hilarious. He adores you. Something like you in the North is rare, and he plans on treasuring it for as long as he can. And when there is a day you won’t be laughing or trying to make others laugh, he grows concerned so quickly. It’s all fun and jokes until you stop laughing. All over you, constantly. Hiding you under his robe, standing in front of you the entire time, shooting you reassuring glances and smiles, reaching for your arm often to check if you’re still there. He does it. It’s those little gestures that grow so endearing, that you cannot help but smile at him. And that’s honestly all he needs.

——

Oberyn Martell:

Give him a charismatic partner. Someone who teases him back twice as hard, returns his pick up lines and messes with him from time to time. Play around with him and tug on his heart strings just a little too tight. He loves it. Playful smiles, far-off winking, stares at each other from the other side of the room. He was taken with you when your eyes first met his. He immediately knew there was this something about you. He’ll introduce you to others constantly, even if you are not around. You don’t know he does this, but he is so enamoured with you, he wants to announce it to everyone, even though that might not always be as clever. You’re being under protection the entire time, even from a distance. He has to make sure you are safe, constantly. If something were to happen to you, he’d never forgive himself.

——

Margaery Tyrell:

Margaery is a very artistic person. She grow up with artists all around her, and though she is somewhat skilled herself, this doesn’t mean she doesn’t admire the others. You’d have met in her home castle, working on one of your pieces when she simply walks in. Initially, she had the rooms mixed up, but she remained once she found your projects. She was a princess: you couldn’t tell her to get out. Of a room. Of a palace. Which her family owns. She starts taking immediately, apologising for entering the wrong room, but then moving on to your works decorating the walls. It is a whole different technique than she is used to, and it is somewhat entrancing. She’ll ask for inspiration, motivation and all those things, genuinely curious about your manner of working. From that day, she shows up twice a day, once with lunch, once without anything. Those talks made her fall for you at first; not your art, not your looks - though that was a win -, but you passion about your hobbies and career. And seeing you so motivated about her, awes her so much.

——

Brienne Of Tarth:

BIG STRONG WOMAN GOES WHOOSH. But when big strong woman sees compassionate and kind significant other, she grows all soft. She’ll do anything to grab your attention, though she will be hesitant at first. She has dealed with a lot of prejudice and harmful words throughout her life, and she fears you will reject her. Deep down, she knows you wouldn’t. You couldn’t even harm a fly. But she’s insecure. Yet, the second you choose to talk to her after seeing her countless attempts, she freezes completely. You’re actually talking to her? Thoughts everywhere. No words whatsoever. You observe her when she’s training, stay by her side when she is travelling, and offer to clean her wounds after fights. And it’s so intimate and endearing, and Brienne grows so flustered of it every single time. There will never be a day she wouldn’t. Big strong woman turns into mush.

——

Daenerys Targaryen:

Daenerys is definitely the person who is interested in all kinds of cultures and arts. And what better way to introduce those to her than to write music about it? You’d accompany her on her journey to Westeros, offering entertainment and music on the ships and walks. Whether you can sing or play an instrument, it doesn’t matter to her. But when she first met you on that square, trying to earn a little bit of money for your family, she immediately offered shelter and food. And ever since, you have been with her. You’ll be sitting on your bed, creating your own musical piece, and she’ll simply join you, her hand resting on your lap as a silent encouragement, and - if possible - her head on your shoulder, staring out of the windows in simple bliss. After everything she’s been through and is going through, you are her rock; her one place she can be safe and let go for a short moment.

——

Tormund Giantsbane:

Ironically enough, I’d think he’d go really well with someone incredibly stubborn. Someone who is set to do things their own way and will do anything to get it. He falls head over heels for looks primarily, but the confidence you radiate in your speech and actions actually stuns him. You go against him or Jon? He isn’t insulted. Kind of turned on, which he wouldn’t admit to you. Jon knows all about it though. But you can, weirdly enough, intimidate him. You’re so sure of yourself, it makes him doubt himself. Surely you wouldn’t need someone like him? It is not that he gets insecure about it, not at all, he simply hesitates his attitude towards you. The last thing he wants is for you to grow pissed at him and never look at him again. He couldn’t live with that. Once you two do get together, it is like fire and fire. Usually, that would be a bad thing, but your playful banter, teasing looks and general breathtaking combination is something to actually die for.

#christmas week with luna 2022 #got #game of thrones #Robb stark #robb stark x reader #jon snow #jon snow x reader #Sansa stark #sansa stark x reader #margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell x reader #Tormund Giantsbane #tormund giantsbane x reader #Oberyn Martell #oberyn martel x reader #brienne of Tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #daenerys targaryen #Daenerys Targaryen x reader #daenerys x reader

[poisonsage808]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do an imagine with sansa, dany and margaery please? Reader has a black cat that absolutely despises the ladies, always hissing and even trying to scratch them when they get too close to the reader LMAO, how would the ladies react? Thank you ^_^

Her lover was sweet, kind and cuddly. Her beloved was utterly perfect! So why the hell did her beloved have such a horrible creature at their feet that seemed to try to literally scare them away.

♡ Margaery Tyrell ♡

• It started out as a useful sign. Wherever the beast was, as were you. It seemed the creature couldn’t be without your presence. Tolerable at first, now bothersome

• It hisses when Margaery is but two steps apart from you, any closer and looks about ready to mask her with power it shouldn’t possess.. but might

• “Darling,” Marg coos sweetly from the doorway, “Perhaps you would join me for a swim today? The weather is perfect for it!”

“I’d love to.” You smile as you rise to your feet, abandoning your work to offer her your arm.

Margaery wears a triumphant smirk as she accepts, hooking her arm through yours and leading you to the pond

• The damn cat sits on top of her abandoned dress and glares from shore as Margaery steals kiss after kiss from you. In the water you’re completely hers. Unfortunately unless she bargains with a witch to somehow turn you both into mermaids, it seems she’s stuck sharing your attention with this beast that loathes her

♡ Sansa Stark ♡

• If wolves did not cower in the face of lions, she certainly wouldn’t for a domesticated variant of one

• Sansa ignores your black haired beauty as it rests on your lap, batting her pale hands away if she dares to rest it anywhere on you

• Once it hissed at her and she hissed back

• Sansa does a sweep of her room before you enter. Hiding spots empty, windows closed, it seems she’s safe from torment for the night— but the moment you open the door the cat darts under the bed

• You laugh, though you don’t find it as funny when your cat hops on the bed when you’re trying to kiss your fiery lover

“Shoo!” You beg, gently waving your hand only for it to purr and rub its head on your knuckles.

“Could you confine your furry friend to your chambers for the night?” Sansa asks innocently, inching towards the edge of the bed.

She gets a well deserved glare from the beast in cat’s skin.

You sigh with a smile, “Perhaps that’s best.”

• Somehow it finds its way back into the room and pounces on the both of you while you sleep, jerking you awake as it bounds off to hide again

♡ Daenerys Targaryen ♡

• You bowed before your queen whereas the beast would rudely dance between your legs defiantly. Dany swears it’s on purpose

• She has bite marks and small scratches on her hands constantly from trying to hold you

• She’d tried everything. Bathing, bribery with treats or catmint (which only seemed to worsen the treatment she received)

• Dragons loved her! Dragons were bigger, more powerful and yet this tiny black ball of fur terrified her!

• Worse? Her children adored the terror. Not one unfortunate snack attempt was made. You were in utter awe over Drogon napping with your cat!

• The only time it scurried off was when Daenerys would take you flying. She adored the way you tightly held onto her, no little beast to interrupt you both while up in the clouds

#poiboidrabbles #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #x reader #imagine #ask stuff #writeblr #sansa stark x reader #sansa stark imagine #sansa stark headcanons #sansa stark #margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell x reader #margaery tyrell imagine #daenerys targeryan #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen x reader

[howyouloveyourdragon]

i will now be reopening requests of; - jacaerys velaryon - daemon targaryen - rhaenyra targaryen - margaery tyrell (for @its-actually-minicika, i was very close to removing this after this morning's events so you better appreciate this) - helaena targaryen - robb stark

for a short time (for me it is currently 10:02am GMT+1 time and they will be closing at 22:00pm GMT+1 time, 12 hours from now)

#requests #asoiaf requests opened #jacaerys x reader #daemon x reader #rhaenyra x reader #margaery x reader #helaena x reader #robb x reader

[axelsagewrites]

Margaery Tyrell*Ropes

Pairing: margaery x f!reader

Kinktober Day twenty: bondage/wax play with Margaery Tyrell: people may whisper about her brother’s bedroom habits but none of them see the things she gets up to with her ladies’ maid

Word count: 1089

Warnings: wax play, bondage/ropes, f!recieving oral, soft dom margaery, praise, smut 18+

PSA dont acc pour candle wax on ppl, ppl who do that use special candles

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

“Be still my love,” Margaery cooed, her warm breath fanning over your ear as her front pressed into your back. She only wore the thin yellow shift you had helped her undress into for bed. Your skin however was bare apart from the ropes she so lovingly tied around your frame, “your fidgeting makes it harder to keep things pretty,”

“Sorry my lady,” your fingers fiddled behind your back, but they paused when she grabbed your hands in hers. You smiled when you felt her press a light kiss to your shoulder, her soft lips trailing down your back as she moved to kneel behind you.

You shivered as her fingers brushed softly against your skin as she tied the knots around your wrists. “How much longer?”

“Almost there,” you could hear the concentration in her voice and imagine how her eyebrows knitted together like they did during embroidery lessons. “Perfect,” she praised, her hands slipping to hold your hips gently as she pressed a kiss to the back of your thigh.

She glided to stand in front of you, as graceful as a fairy in the wind. “Such a pretty thing,” she said, her eyes trained on your face as she cupped your cheeks. “This may be my finest work,”

You looked down at the rope she had tied around you. knots ran up your body, a lover heart fashioned around your chest, before the ropes led around your shoulders till it tied your wrists together behind your back. For now, she left your legs free, but she ushered you to her love seat.

She sat on the plush sofa, her hands moving to your shoulders, “Kneel,” she instructed to which you complied without question. You watched her eyebrows knit once more as she rummaged through her box of innocent looking tricks before a spark lit up behind her eyes.

“How about I light a couple candles?” she asked but it was no question as she used one of the torches in the room to light the first candle. You’d seen it before in her box of tricks but so far it had gone untouched. “Tell me my love, how do you find the heat?”

“I like it my lady,” you confessed, etching closer to her as the wax around the top began to melt, “I wouldn’t survive in the north,”

“A pretty thing like you doesn’t belong somewhere so grey,” she said, her hand moving to cup your jaw and tilt it up. Her eyes scanned down your neck and frame, admiring the curves of your skin, “No I think I will keep you here. With me. Would you like that?” she asked.

“Very much so my lady,” you said, “Theres no place I’d rather be,”

“Good,” her lips moved down, placing a soft chaste kiss to yours. when she pulled away your lips followed but she only tutted, “Now, now. Let’s enjoy this properly my love,”

Before you could understand her words, you watched as she moved the candle closer, but you trusted her too much to move. Then she tilted the candle, her eyes staring at you curiously as hot wax dripped from the flame to hit your chest.

You hissed slightly, shocked by the heat but you felt a rush go through your stomach. “Too hot?” Margery questioned, her eyes worried. You shook your head and a small smirk toyed at her lips, “good,”

Her fingers tilted your jaw up further, allowing her to drip a longer strand of wax down your collarbone and chest. You gasped as you felt the wax sting your skin then soon cool down. “You like it don’t you?”

“Yes, my lady,”

“Good,” she said, standing suddenly, “Get on the bed,”

“But my wrists- “

“Did I ask about your wrists?” her words cut you off as did her firm gaze. You felt silence wash over you as you shook your head no, “Then get up and lay down for me, alright?”

You nodded, quickly stumbling to your feet and manoeuvring onto the bed. Luckily it was plush with furs and pillows and silken sheets, so your wrists ache was dull at least for now.

Margery moved to kneel beside you, her hand trailing up your body making your breathing go unsteady. She smiled as her fingers trailed around your perked nipples, grinning when she felt them become hardened buds under her touch. “Close your eyes,” she whispered.

When you did you felt her shuffling, felt her lips press soft kisses around your breasts before she moved away completely. You gasped at the hot wax that dripped onto your stomach and you heard a small giggle come from beside you. you felt her lips kiss along your sides as she straddled your thighs. another hiss came however as wax pricked the skin of your breasts.

You felt her shuffle down and more wax stung at your hips making your body jerk slightly, “If it is too painful tell me,” Margaery’s voice filled your ears but still you kept your eyes shut.

“No, my lady,” you whimpered, “It’s just right,”

A breathy laugh came from her lips as wax dripped on your thighs, “You really are the perfect little toy,” she said, her voice like a song, “perhaps I should reward you for it,”

“If it please you my lady,” you said, your voice a strained whimper when you felt her breathing fan over your wet cunt. the waiting, not knowing if you were to be met with wax or her kiss only made you grow wetter as anticipation grew in your belly.

However, when lips pressed into your wet heat you gasped as her lips soon wrapped themselves around your clit. Your body jerked as she began to lick up your juices, her hands gripping your thighs tightly. Your eyes shot open as you felt her tongue dive in and for a moment you noticed the now unlit candle discarded by the side of the bed.

Your own thoughts were cut off by soft moans as her nose began to nuzzle into your clit, rubbing soft circles onto the aching nerves. Her mouth was relentless, and it did not take long for you to fall apart on it.

Your peak hit like a tidal wave, your body pulling on its restraints as you tried to keep your moans low, biting your lip harshly. As you came down from your peak you shivered when you felt her kiss your inner thigh. “Oh, my love, tonight will be long for you,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

#margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell smut #margaery tyrell imagine #margaery tyrell x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones smut #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #kinktober #got #got imagine #got x reader #got smut

[wardenparker]

The Viper's Bride - Epilogue

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: T, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid. This is a MMFFF polycule, folx. Get on board or don't click to keep reading. Pregnancy!* Childhood illness, vague descriptions of surgery, child in pain, pregnancy. Epilogue time is fluff time. Summary: In the years after returning to Dorne, your family grows exponentially. Notes: I'm just utterly heartbroken to say farewell to our favourite Dornish prince this week, but hopefully you all enjoyed the ride and were as glad to see this family grow as we were to tell the story 🧡🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16

The sun is not up yet when the door to your chambers pushes open, and small feet pad across the smooth floor. You had been up late last night, celebrating another pregnancy with your husband although you have long since stopped keeping track of who the father actually is. Having now born two children that deeply resemble Oberyn and two that distinctly carry Raeden’s features, it no longer matters whose offspring you bear next. This beloved little girl, though, at nine years old, is the first of your children and very definitely resembles her Sand Snake sisters. Antonia Martell, Princess of Dorne.

There is more gray in Oberyn's hair than black, his body slower to recover from nights of excess, but his eyes open as soon as a little hand touches his arm. "Princess." He rasps, opening his arms to allow her to climb into the large bed. She knows that there might be times when others are there as well and has never questioned it yet. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Antonia shakes her head fiercely and her lip trembles as she snuggles in next to her father. “I can’t sleep,” she whispers, round eyes wide with tears as she tries not to wake her mother.

"What is wrong, my little date cake?" His eyes are brighter, clear and focused on his daughter as she grimaces. He had nicknamed her that after all the date cakes you had stuffed yourself with, lovingly provided by your half brother.

The sound of one of your children will always wake you, and even if you are a bit groggy you make sure to be able to focus on them. Right now, Antonia pulls that focus. “Did Kira keep you up, sweetheart?” At only six years old, little Kira often crawls into her older sister’s bed in the nursery, wondering out loud until all hours of the night or begging Antonia to tell her a story even though you and Oberyn take turns reading to them every night.

“No, Mama.” Even if she had, Antonia wouldn’t tattle on her sister. Her pout grows fiercer and she points to her side with a great sob. “It hurts.”

"What hurts?" Oberyn is sitting up instantly, reaching for his little girl to pull onto his lap. "Star, light the candles." Even though it could just be a stomach ache from too many sweets, Antonia isn't one to complain too much.

In a flash you are out of bed, grabbing a candelabra from the nearby table and bringing it close to the bed with care once it is lit. “Show us, sweetheart.”

Antonia is careful, pointing to her side without touching herself at all, and for the first time you notice her nose is a bit runny and her skin is damp with a thin sheen of sweat. “My tummy hurts,” she tells you both, chin trembling terribly.

“My poor little date cake.” Oberyn keeps his voice soothing, wanting to comfort her as he slowly presses his hand to her side, hating that she cries out in pain. “We need the maester.” He grunts, pulling his hand away and stroking her hair. “Sorry my love, I didn’t mean to cause you more pain. Papa would never want to cause you pain.” Instead of calling for Cal or Leyth, knowing they are still abed, Oberyn stands with his daughter in his arms. “Come, sweetheart.”

"Go, my love. I will look in on the others." If Antonia has gotten sick there is a chance that she will spread it to the others or even their nurse. If you are going to have four sick children, you would rather know sooner than later. You wrap yourself in a thin robe and pick up a single candle to walk with, moving swiftly down the hall toward the nursery.

He doesn’t hesitate. Striding naked through the halls of the Water Gardens since the family had moved there after the death of his brother, Doran. Once he gets out of the family wing, he starts to bellow for the maester to get his ass out of the bed and ready his tonics and cures.

Maester Strode is a relatively young man with a jolly disposition and warm countenance, but when he hears the prince shouting he leaps from his bed and lights the nearest lamp. "What is wrong, your Grace?" He asks, appearing at the end of the hallway with the light held high.

“The Princess is feverish and she is complaining about her side hurting.” Oberyn is grateful for the younger maester, eager to learn and he had taken well to the atmosphere of Dorne.

"Bring her inside at once." Strode knows that the Prince and Princess take the welfare of their children very seriously and moves to follow Prince Oberyn as he carries his heir through to the main room of his chamber. There is an examination table there, for the sick, and he lays Princess Antonia on it with a pillow for her head. "Does anything hurt other than your side, princess?" He asks, moving to a stand against the wall where he can wash off his hands before examining the child.

“No.” She sobs out, a pitiful sound. “It just really hurts.” She’s not sure what she’s done to cause this pain but she never wants to feel it again. Squirming slightly as she lays on the cool table with her little chin trembling.

“Alright, princess…” The Maester soothes, drying his hands before he returns to her side. “Your Grace, if you would hold the light over her?” He motions for Oberyn to stay close during the examination. “Do you feel sick, princess? Warm? Or dizzy, perhaps?”

“I’m cold.” She pouts, even though she is covered in sweat. “And my head feels yucky. Like I drank too much of Papa’s wine again.”

Bracing himself so he does not frown and upset the little girl, the Maester nods and holds up his hand. “May I touch your side, princess? So I can feel where exactly you are hurting?” There are any number of things that could cause these symptoms in the child, but if the pain is specific - if it is one precise thing that he fears - then time is of the essence.

“Careful.” Oberyn warns. “She screamed when I touched her skin.” He tells the maester, his own mind racing with what kind of poison could have possibly caused this. He has kept the younger children away from the chamber where they are stored; but children, especially his, are curious.

“Of course, your Grace.” When the little girl sets her face in a fierce imitation of her father and nods, only then does Strode gently prod the lower right side of her abdomen. When she screams outright he backs away immediately and nods. “How long have you felt this pain, princess?” If the pain is moving quickly, he will have to act fast.

“Just when I woke up.” She complains. “I didn’t sneak sweets, Papa, I swear.” She promises her father. She and her siblings have been known to raid the kitchens for treats. Especially the special tarts that Salin makes.

“Sweets would not cause this.” The maester tells Oberyn with certainty. While it is good that the little girl has only felt pain for a short time, the fact that it is so intense does not bode well. “Your daughter’s side is swollen, your Grace. It is possible that she will worsen quickly.”

“What kind of poison would cause this?” Oberyn demands. “I did not see a bite wound from a viper.”

"It was no poison. She was not attacked." The younger man shakes his head solemnly as he moves to the shelf that holds his most potent remedies. The princess will need something for her pain, and then he will talk to her father. "Could you drink something, princess? If I gave you something to help soothe the pain?" He asks, already reaching for the bottles that will help her temporarily.

Oberyn watches the maester carefully, not because he does not trust the man, he has delivered the last three of your babies, but because he wants to know what he gives her. “Drink up, my little date cake.” Oberyn urges.

The princess bravely manages the small amount of liquid that the maester administers and whimpers but stops cradling her side within just a few minutes. Reassured that his theory is correct, the maester brushes Antonia's curls from her face and assures her that she will start to feel better quickly before he nods for Prince Oberyn to step aside with him. "She is ill, but I believe I can help her," Strode tells him.

"What is wrong with my daughter?" Oberyn demands, now wearing a pair of breeches that a servant had thoughtfully slipped into his hands as he had watched his daughter carefully. "What illness does she have? Will it affect the other children?" Beyond the younger three, there are also Margarey and Raeden's children to worry about. Their third child was Oberyn's for certain and it was questionable if the fourth was Raeden's or Cal's.

“No, your Grace. The others are safe.” It would be far too painful to think of all the babes he had delivered for Houses Martell and Sunstone being gravely ill, and the maester shakes that idea from his head. “There is an organ, just here, in a person’s side,” he explains quietly, trying to let the young princess rest. “As far as I have studied, maesters and doctors have never been able to divine its purpose, but it is always there. Sometimes it swells, causing great pain and other discomforts, and in the worst of these cases it sometimes bursts. When it bursts, it nearly always claims the life of the ill party.”

His heart stops the moment he hears he could lose his daughter. He's fought, he's killed, he's loved and lost, but he would not survive the loss of any of his children - let alone his precious Antonia. She might be the most like him of all of his daughters and his jaw clenches. "Is there anything to be done?" He demands. "Tell me you can save her."

"It is...not often done." Strode admits, wondering how insistent the prince would be about attempting a rarely tried treatment. "Removing the organ before it bursts will keep her safe. But a child recovering from such a wound is still in danger in other ways. She would be in bed for weeks afterward."

"Re–removing the organ." Oberyn repeats. "Cut her open? Can she live without it?"

"Yes. And yes, she can." The younger man nods. "If you wish to consult with her mother before a decision is made, I advise you to speak to your wife quickly. She is already in immense pain and the tonic that I gave her will not outlast a burst."

Oberyn nods seriously and frowns as he looks back at his daughter as her eyes slip closed now that the pain is gone. Drifting off to sleep. He doesn't want to leave her, but he doesn't want her to be in danger of this organ bursting and causing even more problems. "I will bring the Princess back for you to explain to her." He decides. "I will be back in moments."

"I will stay by her side." Strode promises, nodding as the prince hurries back out of his chambers and down the hall.

Oberyn finds you closing the door on the nursery chambers. All the other children are fast asleep and comfortable. He rushes up to you and takes your arm. "Come." He grunts, tugging you away from the door. "Strode needs to talk to you. Now."

"What is wrong?" The only thing you know is that your oldest child is in pain and your husband looks terrified, and those two facts do not combine well so you run swiftly after him.

"She is ill. There's something Strode needs to cut out of our daughter, Star." Oberyn explains as the two of you race back towards the Maester's chambers.

"Cut out?" The panic rises in your voice and you cling to his hand all the harder as terror twists in your belly.

"He can explain it better than I can." There had been a moment when he had stopped listening, he couldn't. Not when he could hear the blood rushinging in his ears and his heart was pounding in fear so loudly that he couldn't think over the sound.

The maester is standing by his examination table when the prince and princess appear in his doorway and he motions for them to be quiet when it looks as though you might explode with concern. "This way," he insists, motioning for you to join him on the other side of the room despite never taking his eyes off of the sick little girl that was brought to him. "She is sleeping, thank the gods. I do not want to disturb her while it lasts."

"Tell my wife what you told me." Oberyn demands, his eyes don't move from his daughter, foolishly afraid that she might disappear if he stopped watching her. Your breathing is shallow and rapid, both from the run and from fear. "Remember the babe," he reminds you, squeezing your hand.

Maester Strode recounts everything he had told Oberyn previously, stressing that there is danger in waiting and that if all goes well with the - admittedly unconventional - procedure, the little princess will be just fine afterward. "Have you done it before?" You ask, running one soothing hand over the side of your belly to remind yourself that panic will not help you or your unborn child, let alone Antonia.

Strode shakes his head regretfully, but puts out his hands to reassure the couple while the prince looks ready to mutiny. "I have been present for it. I assisted. So I am far better prepared than any other maester in Dorne."

"You haven't done this before!" Oberyn hisses angrily. Feeling helpless because he cannot fix this. There is nothing that he can do.

"I assisted Maester Rhodestone with a nearly identical situation while I was still at the Citadel," Strode tells you, hoping the mention of his mentor's name will help to soothe the prince. He knows that Prince Oberyn had also studied under the recently passed maester's tutelage. "He was the first to theorize that it would work, and he was correct. The little boy recovered completely with only a scar to remember the pain by."

Wiping his hand over his eyes, the prince sighs before he looks at you. “Star?” He asks softly. There’s not a choice, but he wants to be sure that you agree with the risks.

"What choice do we have?" As scared as you may be for your daughter, the path is obvious. If you do nothing, the risk is losing Antonia altogether. And that is a risk you are absolutely not willing to take.

“Leave it to the gods.” Oberyn isn’t happy with that idea at all, but that is the choice if he does not agree to this. “And I do not want to do that.”

“I will not stand by and do nothing while my baby suffers,” you insist firmly, although the idea of having to cut her open is terrifying.

“How soon can you do this?” Oberyn demands. “Will she be awake? Feel anything?”

“There is a way I can induce sleep in her. Keep her from feeling the pain outright.” Strode nods. “It will be preferable for this. So she does not move while the organ is being removed.”

“That would be preferable.” Oberyn knows that she could do a lot of damage if she was awake and moving. He’s attended enough battlefield wounds to understand that. “You will use my healing mix for her as well, yes?”

“Yes, your Grace.” The Maester can agree to that easily, considering the prince’s proclivity for herbal work rivaled his abilities with poison.

“Do we need to do anything? Fetch you anything?” Oberyn demands, striding back over to Antonia to check her forehead. “Anything you need, you will have it.” Despite his words to the maester, his eyes are fixed on his precious daughter.

“Fortunately, I have everything I need.” The younger man glances out the large windows in his chambers though, and frowns. “I will keep a watchful eye on her until sunrise. The light will be better than if I worked by candlelight.”

“We will dress and return.” If you do not wish to stay, he won’t make you, but he won’t leave his daughter’s side while she goes through such a thing.

“You go first, my love.” Looking to where Antonia is sleeping, you bite your lip and almost quake with the effort not to cry. “I would hate for her to wake in pain and one of us not be here. You go and change, and I will go when you return.”

"I will be back before you can blink." He promises, pulling you in and crushing his lips to yours in a desperate attempt to calm you both down. "Tell her Papa will be back if she wakes before I can return."

Thankfully, it is past sunrise when Antonia wakes again. The maester has had time to prepare his tonics and treatments, and you have sat up with Oberyn for a few hours discussing how to handle her healing time and how to explain to her siblings that she needs to be allowed to rest and cannot play for at least a few weeks. When her little eyes open again she winces and whimpers in pain but you are both right there beside her.

"Princess." Oberyn leans down and coos as he brushes his daughter's hair back. "I know you are still in pain but Maester Strode is going to make you sleepy and then he is going to make the pain go away." He explains gently. "Will you be brave for me? You will have to be lazy for a little while, I know how much you like snuggling with Ellaria on the chaise. And you will have a scar where your stomach hurts."

“He can make it go away?” She asks warily, as if she thought that would never happen, and yet if anyone had asked her the question she would have said that her Papa could make it better.

"Yes," He leans over and kisses her little forehead softly. "I want you to be brave, my little date cake."

“It won’t h—hurt anymore?” The question falters when she wails in pain again and tears form in her eyes immediately.

"You will be sore, Princess." The maester does not believe in concealing possibilities from those seeking treatment from him, not even the younglings. "You will be stitched up and will have to be very careful how you play. But the sharp pain you have now will be gone."

Antonia is afraid, you can tell that easily, but you stroke her forehead and offer her the most maternal smile of support you possibly can. "It will be alright, sweetheart. Maester Strode is going to help you, and we will be here the entire time."

"You promise?" She asks, her voice small and scared, reaching for and clinging to your hand as she looks between you and her father.

"I promise, darling. Papa and I are going to be right here, and afterward I will carry you back to bed myself." Pregnant or otherwise, you could be on death's door and you would still insist on being the one to carry Antonia back to her rest. "Can you be a good girl for the maester now, and let him help you?"

She nods solemnly, even as she pouts when the cup of tonic that will make her sleep is brought over. "You will need to drink this, Princess." Strode urges.

The smell makes her nose wrinkle but the pain is far worse than a little bad smell, so Antonia swallows the tonic and grimaces only slightly while still keeping your hand in her tight little grip. "I hope it works fast," she mumbles with a fierce pout.

If there is a moment of lightness, this is it. Oberyn chuckles and nods in agreement. “Us too, my sweet girl.” He pets her hair as she drinks the concoction down, making an unhappy noise when it’s done.

It takes only minutes, thankfully, and the maester is satisfied that the little princess will sleep soundly through her treatment. "I will ask you both to let me work," he insists in the most polite way possible. "It will be very distressing to watch your daughter be treated in this way, so I will ask you now to consider whether or not you can remain in the room without interfering. The more swiftly I can see to her illness, the sooner I can stitch her wound and return her to her bed to heal."

Oberyn turns to you and puts his hands on your shoulders. “Star?” He asks quietly. He knows that you are fiercely protective of your children, and he wonders if you can stay.

"I will hold my tongue, but I cannot possibly leave her." Of the two of you, you know that you are the more likely to protest. But the fact is? You promised her that you would be here and you would not break that promise for all the gold and jewels in the world.

“I understand.” Cal has slipped into the room behind Ellaria, ready and willing to take any and all news back to the others. Raeden, Leyth and Margaery are watching all the other small children and keeping them safe.

"Work swiftly and true, maester." You tell Strode, not knowing what else you can do but let the man do his job. His job of saving your child.

Oberyn pulls you away from the table as he readies his tools. “It will be well.” He murmurs against your ear, holding you close. Ellaria comes closer and she wraps her arms around you and presses against your back.

"I thought it was difficult when Lina broke her arm last year." Sniffly quietly against Oberyn's chest, your hand winds around Ellaria to hold her closer to both of you. Admittedly, you had panicked last summer when your second daughter - the first you share with Raeden - had fallen from a tree and broken her arm while playing. This somehow seems worse than that. "This is unbearable. She did nothing wrong. Nothing to cause this."

“Things happen.” Oberyn reminds you gently. He rubs your arms and pushes down his own fear. You need him to be strong for you and he can almost guarantee his oldest eight had come with Ellaria and are waiting out in the hall.

"That is not a comfort, my love." You sigh deeply, knowing that it is not his fault, and wipe tears from your eyes before they can fall and cause you to sniffle. Antonia may be asleep but the sound of her mother crying should never happen near her unless it is weeping for joy. "Thank you for coming, El."

“Where else would I be?” Your lover and Oberyn’s soulmate huffs, knowing you need everyone you can have right now. “Rae and Margaery would be here, but they are keeping the little ones from storming the castle.”

"This family is blessed to have all of you." Swallowing a deep breath before you lean in to kiss her softly, you know this morning is going to be more difficult than any of your births - or even Margaery's and hers had been far more treacherous than yours. "I think we could all take turns with Antonia as she is healing? It will help her to not be so restless if she has different faces each day."

“That is an excellent idea, my love.” Oberyn leans across you and presses his lips to hers. “Unless Lord Sunstone has pressing matters to attend to.” The clinking of tools makes him want to look over, but if he does, you will and he wants to distract you for as long as possible.

“I think not.” Ellaria shakes her head but does not let her expression grow concerned or melancholy. “They spoke of only the children last night. Not business.”

“Then I am sure that they will have no problem with the idea.” All five adults, really seven if you include Cal and Leyth, were adored by the younger children and could be seen as a beloved aunt or uncle if they were not the parents. It really was a village of children and adults in the Water Gardens these days.

“She will be fine.” Ellaria soothes, running one hand up and down your back when she feels you tighten with nerves again. “It is natural to be scared, but remember how Maester Strode helped Margaery when Martine was born. He is skilled and earned your trust well.”

“I know.” You cannot help it, though, and have to stand with your back to the table so you do not look. “This fear has nothing to do with not trusting him. It is only because she is my little girl.”

“Of course, my love.” Oberyn hums softly, his eagle eyes fixed on the maester’s movements and his body tenses the moment the sharp knife cuts into his daughter’s small body.

“Is he doing it?” When Oberyn tenses you can only guess why.

“Yes.” He squeezes you quickly, making sure that each one of the moves the maester makes is not one that hurts his baby. At the thought of that, his hand slides down to your stomach. “Don’t fret too much, you will make yourself sick.”

“I am honestly surprised not to have been overtaken by it already,” you admit with a sigh. “Perhaps this babe is finally going to be calm, if only for her mother’s sake.”

Oberyn snorts, about to make a joke but he bites his lip on it. “Let us hope.” Ellaria strokes your back and sighs. “The girls are outside. They wanted to be here.”

“All of them?” The only surprising thing is that you are surprised by it, and it actually brings the nearest thing to a smile to your lips that you can manage. “Eight older sisters and they do nothing but dote on the little ones. They’re such sweet girls.”

“They would do anything for them.” She is proud of them, all wanting to come and wait. Understanding the risky procedure might not have a happy outcome and believing guarding the maester’s door might keep Antonia safe.

“I’m grateful for them.” You tense when Oberyn’s breath hitches slightly, and swallow down the fear that will surely lead to tears if you allow it to surface. “And for you, El.”

“My love, there is nowhere else I would rather be.” Ellaria leans in and kisses your shoulder and hugs your back.

The process takes more than an hour. And though the Maester is quick, quiet, and sure of himself, you do nothing but quake with fear the entire time. It is only when he is inspecting her stitches in the bright morning light that you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“It is done.” The Maester sighs, straightening up and moving to clean his hands again. The procedure had been a success and he is relieved that it had gone so smoothly.

“And our daughter?” She is still sleeping, lying on that table, but she is breathing and she is not quite so pale anymore.

“She will be perfectly fine.” He tells you with confidence. “She should wake up soon and she will be sore, but she will make a full recovery, your highness.”

"Can we move her before that?" You ask immediately, stepping quickly up to the side of the table and wincing at the sight of cleaned blood around her stitched wound. Your poor darling... "Let her wake up in her own bed, I mean?"

“It might make her feel better.” Strode nods. “Although I have a feeling that she might wish to be close to her parents for the next day, and have you close to her. So I would put her in your bed, your highness.”

"Just so." With Oberyn's help, you keep Antonia steady in your arms as you pick up her little body and look to the maester with deep gratitude. "I will forever be in your debt for keeping her safe, Strode," you declare quietly, almost as if being too loud might wake your oldest child. "If Maester Rhodestone were with us, I know that he would be proud to see you carry on his work."

“It is my pleasure that I can continue his work.” Strode reaches for Ellaria and presses a bottle into her hand. “Just a drop into some juice will keep her comfortable while she recovers.”

"Just one." Ellaria acknowledges, understanding that with medicine as with poisons - dosing is everything.

Maester Strode nods and quickly moves to the table to start cleaning up from the surgery and to examine the organ he has removed from the princess. Much could be learned by studying it.

******

The maester was correct that Antonia's recovery would take some time. It is entire weeks in bed with the tonic for pain deposited in her juice, until she is strong enough to be sitting up and playing cards or other games with her siblings. In the next few weeks Antonia spends a few hours at a time at the Water Gardens with all of her sisters and her few brothers. But the thing that truly delights every single one of you once you see that she is healing well? Antonia will soon have her very first scar. And that is a very exciting thing to happen when the adults all around you have found their soulmates - and then earned more on top of the first.

“Your father and stepmother are here, Star.” Oberyn tells you as he walks out into the gardens with the couple trailing behind him. Your father had decided when he had been reunited with Marlee, finding her alive and well, that he did not wish to spend another minute apart from her. Taking her and her children back to the Vale so he could relinquish his titles to your eldest brother and let your brothers meet the soulmate that should have been their mother. Surprisingly? They had quickly accepted the kind hearted Dornish woman and her children as part of the family. Even accepting that their father wished to return to Dorne to live out his days. Leaving the cold of the Vale behind as well as the painful memories of time lost.

There is little to no formality within your family despite the high titles, and you pop up from dangling your bare feet in the water to give your parents tight hugs. Your father’s hair is completely white now, and the cane he walks with is not just for show, but he has been more lively in the almost ten years since reuniting with his soulmate than ever before. “I am so very glad to see you both,” you hum. The sentiment is true no matter how often you see them.

"Princess." Despite the fact that you have asked Marlee to just call you by your name for years, she cannot help but use your title. Her arms still open to embrace you warmly. "We wanted to come see the grandchildren and to check on you." She is not a grandmother by blood to the children, but it does not matter and she dotes on each one of the children and spoils them as if they were her own.

“We are always happy to see you.” Your children have known no other grandmother and for that you are immensely grateful. They adore their Uncle Salin as well, who keeps them well supplied with sweets and stories of the world outside of Dorne.

“We thought that perhaps we could care for the children tonight.” Marlee explains. “To give the five of you a break?”

“That is so very kind of you.” It has been obvious, in the years since your father has remarried, that he had lost his spirit and his happiness to your mother’s cruelty. Now that he is reunited with his soulmate and living his life on his own terms, a happier man does not exist. “We could all have our midday meal together before we slip away? I know the little ones will be so glad to see you that they will not even notice we have gone.”

“We would be delighted.” Your father answers with a smile. “I can share the raven I received from your brothers.”

“I am not sure if that is exciting or ominous,” you tease with a grin. Your brothers have been thriving in the Vale, grown men living their lives happily with their wives and children all growing into bright young people with their futures sprawled out in front of them. “Oh my dears!” You call out, turning back to where the kids are splashing in the water and Antonia is playing dominoes with Raeden to keep her from getting too rambunctious. “Look who will be spending the afternoon with us!”

“Nonnie! Poppie!” Antonia screeches, her face lighting up and the other children, including Margaery and Raeden’s, all start screeching the nicknames that the eldest had bestowed on their grandparents. Margaery stands from where she was wading with her smallest toddler and waves happily. Delighted to see the parents she had adopted as her own since her father had never spoken to her again before his death when King’s Landing had been burned by the Targaryen queen.

“How is my little warrior feeling today?” He might not be walking as fast as he once did, but your father is still just as determined as ever to have his grandchildren in his life. He bends down now with great care, not wanting little Antonia to over extend herself. “I hear you are healing better than the Maester predicted.”

“I am almost ready to play like normal.” She had been patient with your caution, but she was eager to run and play with her siblings, even picking up the toy spear her Papa had given her to practice with. “I have missed you and nonnie.” She hugs his neck tight and kisses his leathery cheek with a loud smack.

“We have missed you too, little one.” He smiles so dotingly and bops the tip of her nose playfully with one finger. “That is why we are going to spend all day and night with you and your siblings. Because we have been away far too long.” In truth, they have only been traveling a little while, but Marlee’s younger daughter had just given birth and they wished to meet the new babe.

“That is the best gift ever!” She cries out happily and grins. While the servants will still be there, all the children adore time spent with their grandparents. Their soulmate story was a favorite bedtime story as well.

“Come, little one.” He puts out both his hands to her to help her stand. “Let us wash, and we will see what your Uncle Salin has made for lunch, hm?”

“He will have made tarts.” Antonia declares with a grin. “He’s made them every day along with the date cakes Mama loves.”

“Tarts, you say?” That is his favorite, of course, but he wonders if you have a specific craving this time, with his next grandchild already squirming and kicking in your belly. “Well, we know why there must be date cakes, don’t we?” He asks her, taking her hand so they can walk together while the other young children scramble out of the water and into the palace for their lunch.

“Mama’s going to have another baby.” She tells you happily. “They have been talking about celebrating because Aunt Margarey is having a baby too.”

“We always enjoy having a few pregnancies at once,” you agree, taking Antonia’s basket from her so she can walk with her grandfather — her flower crown weaving has come along beautifully during her recovery. “Do you know why else we want to celebrate, sweetheart?”

“Because you and Papa have been married for a long time? Your– your ani– ani–birthday?” Antonia asks, frowning slightly because she knows that’s not the word she wants to use.

“Anniversary.” Her substitution works very well, though, and you grin. “Not quite yet, pumpkin. It’s for you! Because you have been such a brave girl and so patient while you’re healing, we’re going to celebrate you getting your very first scar.”

Her eyes widen once you say that out loud. “A scar?” She asks quietly. “Like– like a soulmate one?” She knows that soulmates are special and you and papa are extra special. “Do you think we know mine? Or will I be like Aunt Margaery?”

“We don’t know yet, sweetheart.” Aunt Margaery, though she never gained another set of marks over her life, has been immensely happy in her romantic life. “We might know yours already, or we might wait many years before we meet them. Both are perfectly okay.”

“Okay.” It’s something fun but it’s not overly concerning to her right now. “I’m hungry.”

That draws an amused chuckle from both you and your father. Truthfully? It is probably good that your nine year old is not too excited about growing up. Let her be a child for as long as she is willing.

“Do soulmate scars hurt?” She asks after a few moments, biting her lip and frowning slightly. If she’s got to have a soulmate, she doesn't want to cause them any pain.

"Only for a moment, precious." Her concern is commendable, and a point of pride as you and Oberyn have always tried to teach your children empathy. "You had pain for weeks to earn it, but they will only have pain for just a moment. And after that, they will know that you are out there somewhere."

“Okay, good.” The pout clears up and she smiles happily. “I don’t want to cause them pain for too long.” She tells you. “Papa said you always weep when he gets scratches.”

"That is because I worry too much." You tell her, giving your father the stink eye when he chuckles in agreement. "I don't like it when Papa gets hurt, just like you don't want your soulmate to hurt, either. But there's no need to cry. I just worry."

“It’s okay Mama. Papa is the strongest, fiercest man alive.” She boasts, with the sense of confidence of a child that worships her father can have.

"Yes he is, sweetheart. He defeated an entire Mountain while you were still in my belly." Brushing some curls from her eyes, the smile on your face bolsters into something equally proud. "But just because someone can withstand hurt, does not mean they should have to."

“I know.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s just good that he can because I always want Papa here.” She tells you quietly. “He’s the best papa in the world. He even promised me a dragon.” Her eyes widen happily. “That’s better than a pony.”

“Oh he did, did he?” Though you all but roll your eyes, it does make you smile. Oberyn’s devotion to children is complete and no one could ever doubt that. “That does sound like the best papa in the world.”

“He is.” She insists happily. “He told me that first I have to make sure that I can keep the little lizard he let me keep alive. Because he says dragons are like giant lizards.”

"That is what they say." Never having seen one, you cannot say for sure, but if there is anyone whose readings you would trust it is Oberyn. As the group of you walk into the dining room at the Water Gardens, you are met with a whole group of other people waiting. A group which includes Raeden and Margarey who are beaming with excitement as they stand on either side of their oldest son by the windows. The young boy is only a few months younger than Antonia and looks every inch his father's son, but with his mother's quick wit and sense of humor. "Oh, dear," you hum in amusement, seeing the way Margaery looks as if she is about to burst at the seams. "What have you been up to, my dear? You like the cat that got the cream."

“It is– we have news.” Margaery nearly vibrates with happiness. The life she has had here, the life so willingly shared with the most surprisingly wonderful people, is one that she never could have imagined so many years ago. Despite the fact that she does not share marks with her husband, she does share love with Lord Sunstone. Love that is equally shared with you and Ellaria and Oberyn. The outlandish and improper request she had made so long ago had been her salvation and she is forever grateful for it. Which is why she now hopes this news will be celebrated with the people she loves most. “Bryer has gained a mark!” She cries out happily.

The room seems to freeze, all occupants at once have their eyes on either Bryer Sunstone or Antonia Martell — and all of these eyes are wide. Your hand grabs Oberyn's arm tightly beside you on instinct and you almost choke in surprise as you stare down at your little girl and then immediately force your eyes up to the little boy she has been steadfast friends with for her entire life. "Is– Margaery, is it–" The words will not even come, but many tears do instead. "Is it a funny shape?" Antonia bursts out with an entirely different question, obviously not having made the instant connection that every adult in the room already has. "Where is it, Bry? Can you show me? I bet it's more fun than mine."

“Nia.” Bryer huffs and rushes towards his best friend and now his soulmate. He had seen her mark when she was wearing stitches and knew what it looked like. It was good he’s always felt really good around the older girl, like she was the best part of a tart. He bites his lip and lifts his shirt to show the matching mark on his skin to hers. “It’s your scar.”

The sound of her mother's broken sob of joy seems to go right over Antonia's head at the moment as she stares at her best friend's stomach and her already wide eyes grow three sizes as her mind races to understand what has happened. One of her fingers comes out to poke the mark as though it were made by coal and she could smudge it, but no. No. It is there as deeply and truly as her own, and she lets out an equally overwhelmed squeak before finding Bryer's eyes. "So...we're...soulmates?" She breathes out, clearly astonished by the very idea.

“I–I think so.” He’s always felt so close to the Princess. But he shrugs. “Unless– unless you don’t want to be.” He offers, knowing that sometimes people aren’t soulmates and love each other. His parents are like that. So why couldn’t people be soulmates and not love each other?

“I don’t think we get to pick.” Antonia reminds him, but within seconds the little girl is smiling broadly. “But…” Mischievous by nature, Antonia Martell has always been the most like her father of any of his children and delights in making adventures out of everyday life. “But that means we can be best friends for everything, Bry!”

The breath Bryer had been holding whooshes out of his chest and his own grin lights up his face. “I know!” He drops his shirt and grabs her hand. “Let’s go pick out what we are going to do first!”

“Nuh-uh, you two. Not quite yet.” You barely manage to stop them as they try to bolt past you, and you shake your head the way only a mother can. “Best friends still need to eat lunch, and Nia still shouldn’t be running.”

“Maaammmmmaaaaaaaaaaa.” Antonia whines, pouting fiercely. “I’m not hungry.” She complains, even though she had just been say she was hungry. “I want to figure out what to do with my soulmate.”

“And you can.” Oberyn interjects, reaching out and taking his daughter’s should to turn her slightly. “You have the rest of your lives to plan, but now…” he tell her. “I want you to plan to eat lunch with your family and your soulmate.”

******

“Nia?” Still half asleep, Bryer stretches in bed and frowns to not find his soulmate beside him. After arriving at the Water Gardens late last night he had slipped into her chamber and curled around her for his first good night’s sleep in a month — four weeks at his father’s side traveling their lands and tending to their people was important but he had missed Antonia desperately.

Antonia groans, wiping her mouth and grimacing as she looks down into the chamber pot. “I’m here.” She tells him, standing back and reaching for a cup of water. Wine has been turning her stomach lately.

“Are you alright, love?” In the ten years since discovering they were soulmates, Bryer and Antonia have become bonded entirely. They are each other’s constant companion even more than when they were children and the occasional joke about their inevitable marriage had started well before that was even a possibility.

The fact that her father was the first to recognize the symptoms will forever be a source of embarrassment to Antonia. Not because she is ashamed of sex, she never would be because of the relationship her parents share with Ellaria and Bryer’s parents. She was embarrassed because she should have figured it out herself. “I have a confession.” She admits, shamelessly moving towards him as naked as the day she had been brought into this world.

“That sounds terribly ominous,” Bryer teases, trying to lighten the mood from the serious look on his beloved’s face. “Lover, you know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.” Setting the cup down, she sits on the edge of the bed as her soulmate and lover moves closer to her. His hand automatically reaching for hers. “I didn’t want to send a raven, I wanted to tell you in person.” She bites her lip as she looks down at their joined hands. She knows Bryer loves her, but she’s unsure of how he will feel about her announcement. “I am expecting your first child.” She tells him, looking up to stare into his eyes.

The way the air gets sucked out of the room for a moment should have had both of their heads spinning, but when Bryer’s mouth finally catches up with his mind he nearly loses his jaw to the ground. “You—we—a child?” He gasps, looking down at her belly as though a bump has formed there instantly.

She nods, hoping the shock is just that and not disappointment. “Papa recognized the symptoms and asked mama to take me to Maester Strode. He confirmed it. I am two months gone with your child.”

When he can find it in himself to move again, Bryer lunges forward and kisses Antonia with the most earnest, heartfelt honesty that he can muster. “Marry me.” He breathes out, practically laughing with how light he feels. “They cannot possibly tell us we are still too young if we will soon be parents.”

The girl deflates in relief and nearly barks out a laugh as she throws her arms around her lover’s neck. “Papa is already plotting it.” She promises. “He knows you must secure your heir properly. And he knows how much you love me.” In reality, you had no issue with them marrying young, Oberyn had just wanted to give the boy an opportunity to sow wild oats before marrying, if needed.

“I do love you,” he insists, cradling her in his arms and tugging her impossibly closer. “I always have. Since the moment I knew what love was.”

“I love you.” She promises, pressing her lips to his softly and smiling. “We have always been meant to share this life.”

“What do you think of trying some breakfast?” He asks, pressing kissing along her neck and shoulder and holding her as close as can be in his arms. “Or do you feel too sick for it?” He knows that he has heard his own mother, and hers, and Ellaria bemoan the way an uneasy stomach gets in the way of being hungry, and he wants to do everything he can to take care of her.

Humming softly, she leans into his embrace. “I think that I can stomach some date cakes.” She admits with a small giggle, reminded of her own mother’s eating habits while you were carrying her siblings. “And some of the fruit that your mother loves.”

“Whatever you want, my love. Anything.” Resisting the urge to tease, Bryer nuzzles against her again and kissing her shoulder. “Should we go down to breakfast and let our parents know that you have told me?”

“Mama and Papa already know.” She reminds him. “There’s a good chance they have told your parents. Papa had said that they were all going to be together, since they had all been missing your father in the big bed.”

“Well…” Bryer laughs softly. “The least they can do then is tell us what they have planned for our wedding.”

“Of course.” She rolls her eyes but she knows that her parents and his would want them both to have everything they ever wanted. “Let me dress.”

“If you must,” he pouts, always preferring her bare when he can get it. Even more so now that something primal and territorial is creeping into his mind with a baby in her womb.

“While our parents might parade around the Gardens nude when they think we are asleep, I don’t know if I could.” She teases. Many nights when Bryer had come to her chambers, they had heard their parents frolicking in the waters well after dark.

Nodding, Bryer climbs from the bed and begins to dress himself in turn. “I know that they have found their happiness in the freedom to share love with so many, but…I want only you,” he admits with burning cheeks. “You are all I want and all I need, Nia.”

“Bry–” She shakes her head. “I have only been with you and that’s perfectly fine with me.” She rolls her eyes and walks over to throw herself in his arms. “Mama says that if we choose many or just each other, all that matters is that we are happy.”

“Your mama is a very wise woman.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to her hair.

“Yes she is.” That point, Antonia would never argue. “Let’s go tell your parents they are going to be grandparents.”

“My mother is going to cry,” he predicts with a grin before scooping Antonia against his side and heading off with her down the hall.

Of that, she has no doubt. Lady Sunstone, or her Aunt Margaery, had developed a habit of crying when she was happy. She explained it one day, telling Antonia that when she was younger, she could never show her true feelings so they just kind of bubbled up as tears now.

“I half suspected the two of you might sleep through breakfast,” you tease when your oldest child appears in the doorway of the dining room with her soulmate wrapped around her as young people in love so often do. “Or even have trays brought to you in bed. Welcome home, Bryer. You were dearly missed.”

“Thank you, your highness.” Despite being his soulmate’s mother, Bryer still uses your title despite you telling him not too many times. His father, your soulmate, still called you princess and he was his father’s son. “It is very good to be home.”

“Very good indeed.” You agree, trying very hard not to smirk in your daughter’s direction. “Come. Join us. We were all catching up on the news.”

The news. Antonia eyeballs her mother and wonders if she had told everyone. “Apologies. It has been a slow morning for me.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Do not worry about that.” The table is full this morning — with more than a dozen children and five adults seated around it — and you all take from plates piled high with fruits, cakes, cheeses, and last night’s leftovers from the banquet. Salin had outdone himself with two whole roast boar and pot upon pot of spicy stewed lamb along with all the other elegant dishes he had provided. It was sure to be just as delicious this morning. “Lord Sunstone was bringing us up to speed on the prosperity of the farms in his region, and how well Bryer’s second tour with his people went.”

“Oh?” Antonia beams proudly at Bryer. “I know he will be a very good lord when the time comes, just like his father.” She has the utmost respect for Lord Raeden, and thinks of him as a second father.

"He has compassion and intelligence." Raeden commends his son from across the table, even with his youngest child sitting in his lap. "Two things which will be necessary for him to harness when things are bad or good with our people."

“The Sunstones are an asset to Dorne.” Oberyn agrees. “Every one of them.”

"And the next generation will be, too." Bryer declares, chest puffed and drink held aloft, proud to be a part of this conversation but also to usher in the next as he beams at Antonia beside him.

“To the next generations.” Margaery agrees, beaming at her eldest son and her husband’s heir. Proud of the son she had birthed and raised here in Dorne. “We have created enough of them.” She jokes.

"It is high time our children took over, I could not agree more," you hold up your own glass, but push a glass of juice toward your daughter. "I could not take wine when I was pregnant with any of you, pumpkin. It only makes sense that you cannot, either."

It is fitting that her mother be the one to announce it and Antonia’s eyes dart towards Bryer parents. No shock on their faces, only excitement and pride. “Mama!” She cries, pouting at you. “You told them!” She’s not angry, but she is going to see how sheepish you are over it.

"I could not resist," you admit, laughing and covering your face for just a moment to show embarrassment even though you barely feel absolutely any. Being excited for your first grandchild is your motherly right. "Forgive me, sweetheart? It is such good news to be shared."

“She could not keep it in, and I am so happy she could not.” Her future mother by marriage leaps up and rushes around to hug Antonia. “I could weep last night so you do not think I am anything but thrilled.”

"It brings our families as close together as they could possibly be." You are on your feet as well, hugging Bryer while Margaery squeezes Antonia to pieces. "And we are so very excited for both of you."

“Bryer is excited.” Antonia announces, looking over at her father. “Shocked. I thought he was going to choke on his own tongue.”

"That is about how I reacted when I found out that his mother was expecting him," Raeden chuckles. He, too, has joined the press of parents embracing their children and he hugs Antonia tightly. "His mother could have knocked me over with a feather. He is more like me than even he knows, sometimes."

“Thank you.” She whispers to him. “For making him a man I am proud to love.” She smiles up at the older version of him. While there are glimpses of his mother in him, he is far closer to his father in resemblance.

"Loving you has made him a good man." Raeden promises her. Just as love had made him a good man so many years ago - in so many different ways.

Leaning in, she kisses his cheek and then hugs her papa after he embraces Bryer. “I can’t believe it papa.” She tells him. “I’m going to have a baby.” Oberyn chuckles, folding his daughter into his arms and kisses her hair. “I believe it. Boy was sneaking into your bed every night.” He tells her. “Now he can just go through the door, rather than climbing through the window.”

Antonia puts on a performatively guilty face, but does not feel bad about it for a moment. "Do you not always say that love should be celebrated, Papa? We are only following your principles."

“I do say that. And I’m proud that you have found your love, my little date cake.” He kisses her cheek. “I love you Princess, all I want is for you to be happy and healthy.”

"I am happy, Papa." Antonia promises him, tears welling behind her eyes. "So incredibly happy."

“That’s all that matters, my love.” He promises her. “You were created in love, raised in it and you will carry that love to your own children and the people under your Lord husband’s protection.” Oberyn predicts. “Dorne is strong and you are a Martell.” He caresses her cheek. “You have lived up to our motto and I am so proud. Unbowed, Unbent,” he winks at the daughter conceived in King’s Landing so many years ago. “Unbroken.”

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x f!reader #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand #Ellaria Sand #Margaery Tyrell #Margaery Tyrell x m!OC #Game of Thrones #soulmate au #arranged marriage #and they lived happily ever after

[it-happened-once-in-a-meme]

Game of Thrones Pick-Up Lines (Valentine Cards) (Sansa, Cersei, Margaery, Jaime) 💕😂

You know what relationships most of these are inspired by :)

#braime #sansaery #game of thrones incorrect quotes #game of thrones #funny #valentine's day #valentine cards #game of thrones valentine cards #sansa stark incorrect quotes #margaery tyrell incorrect quotes #cersei lannister incorrect quotes #jaime lannister incorrect quotes #sansa stark x reader #sansa stark #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #incorrect quotes #margaery tyrell #game of thrones humour #humour

[chic-beyond-the-wall]

What Sansa Stark would wear

October 27th

#game of thrones #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #asoif/got #headcanon #fashion #hotd #sansa stans #sansa stark #daenerys x sansa #margaery x sansa #sansa x tyrion #sansa x sandor #sansa stark x reader #house stark #robb stark #ned stark #catelyn stark #brandon stark #jon snow #jon stark #the north #queen of the north #sansa x jaime #daenerys targaryen #westeros #kings landing #house targaryen

[imshylesbi]

***POSTED 16 CHAPTERS AT ONCE***

***SMUTTY LESBIAN X READER FIC***

***SHAMELESS ADULT CONTENT***

#ao3 #x reader #gxg smut #smut #fanfic #smutty #explict #very smutty #gxg #love triangle #shameless #cersei lannister x reader #sansa x reader #daenerys x reader #margaery x reader

[llonelygoddess]

How they react to...You being good with a sword

A/N: Not my best work but I'm open to feedback!

Characters: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Sandor Clegane, Sansa Stark, Khal Drogo, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Jorah Mormont

TW: Horny characters, violence?

Ned Stark: You'd both be out watching Robb, Jon, and Theon practicing with their swords in the court yard. Jon's kicking both of their asses and it's getting hard to watch so you excuse yourself from Ned's side. Walking down to the courtyard, you grab a sword and show them defensive and offensive positions. Ned almost objects as you begin but seeing his kids take your advice so seriously he smiles. If the boys can respect you as a teacher then so could he. Now, He didn't like the idea of you being in a situation where you have to use a sword but knowing you can wield one turns him on lol

Margaery Tyrell: In the life you'd live with Margaery it would be best to keep your talent hidden. It was scandal enough to be courting someone that wasn't a man, but if said person also brandished a sword it would be the hottest gossip of the city. So you save your skills for real emergencies and the first time Margaery sees this she is beyond confused and a little scared. In private she'll thank you for saving her and ask how you learned such a thing.

Sandor Clegane: This guy is the least phased. Like, he's definitely caught off guard by how skilled you are but not much surprises him anymore. He gives you tips every now and then but really believes in your capability. I like to think one of his favorite moments are after you both have had a good fight and you take turns taking care of each other. Wiping the wounds clean, covering them, and then taking a hot bath together ( or separate cause mans is BIG).

Sansa Stark: It kinda depends on which era of Sansa we're talking about. Like if it's younger Sansa than she's probably a little frightened of you but would be dying to hear the stories of how you came to be so good. If it was older Sansa then she's highly impressed and requests for you to be apart of her personal guard. She likely will ask for you to teach her a few things so she can defend herself as well.

Khal Drogo: Man is impressed. He values strength so seeing you with a weapon at all riles him up, but seeing you defend yourself from another Dothraki who spoke against you? He's immediately dragging your ass to bed, or he might just take you in front of everyone.

Brienne of Tarth: <3 Big heart eyes<3 Finally! Someone who can keep up with her. This woman spent her whole life being told that anyone who wasn't a man couldn't possibly wield a sword properly, and after proving that wrong herself it's refreshing to see you also beating the stereotypes. She loves to train with you and teach you things as well as learn from you. After your first real battle together she'll do her best not to hover but you can tell she's stressed out about whether you were hurt or not. Of course she knows you can take care of yourself but she loves you and can't help but worry.

Missandei: As an educated woman and former slave, Missandei never had time ( or the desire) to learn the ways of a sword. When she met you, you were training with Jorah and Grey Worm and she was impressed with how you could keep up with them. From then on, She's always enjoyed watching you train, your strength filling her with pride. She feels content knowing that you can defend yourself and her at any moment.

Podrick: Honestly, he's relieved. I mean, don't get me wrong he'll defend you without a second thought ( it's very hot) but knowing that you can handle yourself in a fight takes the pressure off of him a little. He worries for you, the world you both live in will eat and spit people out and the thought of something happening to you haunts him. He may try to give you tips ( even if you're better than him lol), so just let him help the few ways he can.

Jorah Mormont: You'd both probably meet while working for Daenerys so there's almost an expectation that you'd be good at defending yourself/her. In your first fight together you save him from a sword that nearly took his head off and after that day he begins to see you as more than just another guard.

#ned stark x reader #ned stark #jorah mormont x reader #jorah mormont #podrick payne #podrick x reader #missandei #sansa stark #sansa stark x reader #khal drogo #khal drogo x reader #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth headcanons #margaery tyrell x reader #margaery tyrell

[sassypossumm]

First Editions

The manager of one of the most illustrious coffee shoppes in London, and a mysterious grumpy businessman (who may or may not be some kind of mob boss). What could possibly go wrong?! Right....

"Stop looking at him like that, it's creepy!" Margary leaned over, hissing in your ear. Brushing off the unpleasant sensation you leaned back and gave her a dirty look. 

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, Margary!" Grabbing several paper towels, you began furiously wiping up a wet spot on the counter. Folding her arms, she raised a brow and gave you a knowing look. 

"Don't think I haven't noticed how you've been staring at him every time he comes in! And don't try to deny it!" Clenching the towels in your hand you closed your eyes and clenched your teeth. She wasn't wrong. Much as you hated to admit it, you'd developed something of a... fascination for the older British gentleman who'd taken to coming in everyday now.  

And every morning he ordered the same thing. A plain hot earl gray tea, cream on the side. Then he'd do the same thing, every day. He took his tea and sat in the exact same chair at the exact same table, every day. And every day you watched him shake open the paper. And he sat there for exactly forty-five minutes to the dot. Never a minute more, never a minute less. Then he'd neatly fold and crease his paper, tuck it under his arm, return the empty teacup, and thank you in that clipped accent of his, and he'd walk out the door. 

In the weeks he'd been frequenting the shoppe where you managed, you'd exchange a handful of words with the man, and that was a generous estimate at best. And yet, somehow, you'd become fairly well acquainted with the stodgy man. 

For starters, he was wealthy. Disgustingly if you had to guess. From the way he dressed to the way he carried himself, he exuded confidence and that old-world charm that seemed to be going rapidly extinct. His appearance was always meticulous.

He didn't dress in a flashy manner, that had you supposing that he was a self-made man who valued his money, and preferred to invest in the quality of his garments rather than simply following whatever was the idiotic trend of the week dictated by the self-proclaimed fashion gods.  

In summary, you were besotted. 

"I swear, you've got some serious daddy issues, or a major grandpa kink." Margary's voice dragged you out of your thoughts and back to your present reality. Coffee.  Strong coffee at that. Your shoppe prided itself on the special blends you brewed. It was rumored that even members of the royal family popped in from time to time, discreetly of course. Tossing the towels in the bin, or trashcan as you'd say back home, you threw Margary a wry grin. 

"Maybe it's a little bit of both, Marge." You chuckled at her scowl. You knew she hated that nickname, which was precisely why you continued using it. 

"He actually remembered your name today." She teased, bumping your hip playfully as she passed to wipe down the tables. 

"Yeah, yeah, big whoop." Rolling your eyes, you opened the cash register to make sure you'd have enough funds to make it through lunch. Business usually tapered off around 12:30, meaning you'd most likely be able to dash to the bank and back without being missed. 

Margary hated holding down the fort, but hey, perks of being the manager, right? Flipping through the fives, you were so focused on counting and facing the bills, initially you didn't notice when a customer came to stand in front of the register. He cleared his throat. 

"I'll be right with you." You said politely, glancing up absently. Him. Your throat constricted and your grip on the bills tightened. "Mr. Lannister." Your voice sounded a pitch too high even to your ears. Stuffing the bills back into the drawer, you slammed it shut just a bit more forcefully than necessary. A ghost of a smirk crossed his face, but before you could fully appreciate it, his features fell back into their usual passive refrain, and he slid the empty teacup across the counter. 

"You're finished early." The words left your mouth before you could stop them. You felt a telltale flush creep up the back of your neck. He did smirk this time. You reached for the teacup, utterly mortified. You weren't supposed to keep tabs on how long customers spent in the shoppe. That was creepy, right? 

"Yes, I've unforeseen matters to attend to." 

Your heart jumped at that. He was talking to you. Sure, it was vague and a bit cryptic, but Tywin Lannister was actually talking to you. And while his expression remained impassive, something in his eyes told you he wasn't exactly pleased to have his schedule messed up. 

That you could understand. As a rule of thumb, you yourself were a creature of habit. If your plans were screwed with, it had the strong potential to through your whole day off. 

"Well, I hope it resolves itself." Offering what you hoped was a conciliatorily smile, you placed the teacup in the mess bucket and turned to take it to the dishwasher. 

"Oh, just one moment." You turned expectantly. He flipped open his brief case and fished out a book. A very old book from the looks of it. "Here." He held out the book and you took it gingerly. "I recall we were discussing the classics," 

"We were?" You blurted without thinking. Mr. Lannister soured at your outburst. Pursing your lips, you waited for him to continue. 

"Perhaps I heard you and your friend discussing it in passing, regardless, I recall you mentioning that you'd never read 'Anna Karinina'. To be quite honest I found such a notion appalling. Most likely the result of the poor education system in the states." Your head span like a dervish under his barrage of words, you hadn't been aware he was even capable of so many. "Nevertheless, that is neither here nor there," He continued, shutting his briefcase. "You now possess a copy, and I expect you to read it." His eyes pierced through you with the order. 

"Yes, sir." You murmured, your ears burning under the heat of his gaze. 

"You seem intelligent. And an intelligent woman should be well read." He tapped on the cover of the book for emphasis. Your mouth went dry, and you found it impossible to tear your eyes away from his. You were vaguely aware of yourself nodding in agreement. With a final curt nod, he left without so much as a look back. 

Looking down at the book, you actually took the time to look at it. A first edition copy of 'Anna Karinina'. 

"What did he say? Come on, tell me!" Margary rushed over, animated and full of questions. 

"He... gave me this." You gestured to the book and handed it to her without a second thought. The shock of the encounter had left you a little hazy. 

"This is a first edition, those aren't cheap!" She looked at you and narrowed her eyes. "What else did he say?" 

"I think I need to sit down." The blood rushed to your head, and your knees wobbled. Margary placed the book on the counter and grabbed your arm. 

"Easy, girl, come on, easy does it." She pulled out a chair at one of the tables and you sat with a heavy thud. "I observed," 

"You eavesdropped."  You looked at her pointedly. Margary huffed. 

"I eavesdropped. But I couldn't hear much." She grumbled, tapping her nails on the table. "But I saw how he looked at you." 

"How did he look at me?" You squirmed in your seat; not certain you wanted Margary's undoubtedly accurate insight. Somehow it might make it... real... tangible. She leaned forward and looked at you seriously. 

"He was practically eye fucking you through the entire conversation." She said with a bit more gravitas than you'd have liked. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you willed your head to stop spinning. "What else did he say?" Her tone was gentler this time, concern shining in her eyes. You sighed heavily and propped your chin in your hand. 

"He said I seemed intelligent." 

"He's seducing you." She concluded. Your mouth opened and you looked at her as though she'd grown a second head. 

"Margary, be serious! A man like Tywin Lannister," 

"My point, exactly." She cut you off, adamantly. "A man like Tywin Lannister, with his reputation, and his well-known disdain for Americans, no offence," 

"None taken." You waived a hand dismissively. "Continue." 

"When a man like that starts handing out expensive books and compliments, that's as good as him propositioning you." 

"Well, he sure has a funny way of going about seduction, and what do you mean, reputation?" You look up at her before closing your eyes and rubbing your temples. 

"You honestly haven't heard the rumors?" 

"If I had I wouldn't be asking, would I, Margary." If you'd opened your eyes at that moment, you'd have seen the nasty look she was giving you. 

"No need to get snippy with me." 

"Sorry." You sighed, dropping your forehead to the table's surface. Placated, she continued. 

"He's a terribly mysterious businessman, few people actually know how he makes his money." 

"And naturally people imagine the worst and flap their gums." 

"Flap their gums?" She blinks, confused. You cracked a small grin. 

"Gossip, Margary, gossip." 

"Ah, I see. You and your American idioms." She shook her head. "All I'm saying is... tread lightly when dealing with the likes of Tywin Lannister." She reached out and squeezed your hand. Your grin turned wry, and you returned the squeeze before releasing her hand. 

"I'll keep that in mind, besides," Pulling away from the table you stood up and shrugged. "What's the likelihood I'll actually end up in his bed?" You both chuckled. 

#tywin lannister #tywin x reader #modern au #coffee shop #margaery tyrell #tywin lannister x reader #coffeeshop au