@legendsaresooftenwarnings requested: “Or the reader is a shy noble girl engaged to oberyn and she can’t stop blushing and stuttering but she grows to care for him?”
AND
“Or a fluffy one where they take a bath together on their wedding day after the bedding?”
warnings:
{I thought I could combine these two requests into one (slightly changing the both), and fulfill a request that’s been on my dash since the beginning of the blog. Hope you enjoy!}
You weren’t used to the attention you received being at Oberyn’s side. You’d gone from being the unknown daughter of a Dornish lord, to being the sidearm of one of the most notoriously independent men in the Seven Kingdoms, and that turned a lot of heads. Men and women gossiped and tore into you, searching every scrap of your past to find something to discredit you, and conjured what they could not find.
Oberyn had found you, only a month into your engagement, hidden in an empty bedroom, wiping your red eyes after a former fling of his had cornered you and accused you of being a venomous snake who’d stolen the love of her life from her. He comforted you, and removed the woman who’d inflicted such pain, reassuring you that you were to be his wife, and while you wouldn’t be his only lover, you were his priority.
{ Part Two??? I was kind of unsure of the direction of this story, but I kind of like where it ended up. What do you guys think?}
You felt like a fool.
This morning had begun with such promise, sky clear and sun high, with the light chatter of songbirds outside your window. Your father’s campaign to find any man to take you had been briefly halted by an extended visit to his old friend Ned Stark. After pleasant conversation and decent wine, you regarded Ned as a friend, and you suspected he felt the same, based on your continued tradition of speaking each night.
Somehow your shared sorrow had made you both feel hopeful, at least for a minute, that perhaps tragedy didn’t beget tragedy. Maybe there was something else in this world, something else that the Gods intended, renewed purpose.
And then you had gone and smashed that budding friendship to pieces.
You and your sister Lyanna were in the armory, examining your brother Brandon’s new jousting armor, emblazoned with the sigil of the wolf on glimmering steel.
Lyanna was the first to speak. “It’s so clean and unattended…” her eyes drifted over to you, devilment clear in her eyes. “It would be a shame if someone tampered with it. So embarrassing for Brandon, if his armor didn’t fit quite right.”
You nodded, crossing your arms. “Especially if that Tully girl saw him, he’d be pure raging.” Reaching forward and unlatching an arm-guard, you tucked it in the folds of your dress, along with the helmet and accompanying sword. By the end, you’d left half a set of armor in the armory, and the other half on top of Ned’s bed.
The trap was laid, but the next part was trickier.
You were waiting in the armory when Brandon arrived, cursing and searching the room for the missing pieces and finding you instead.
“Y/N, where did you put my armor?”
“I didn’t touch it. I know who did though.” You extended a hand and lead him out into the center of the courtyard, pointing up to the open window, where Ned was examining a lovely steel blade, the same color as Brandon’s breastplate.
Brandon’s expression grew murderous. “I’ll go fetch it then.”
He disappeared into the castle, and a few moments later, you could hear the shouting from the second story.
“-I didn’t take it! I don’t know how it-”
“Choke and die!”
Taking Lyanna’s hand and shaking it in a celebratory way, you examined the havoc you’d created for your brothers. That’ll teach them what throwing snowballs in the morning yields.
Daario lit a cigarette, watching you redress in the corner of the room, moonlight flooding in through the far window, and wisps of smoke collecting in the air. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You hugged your shirt to your chest, feeling filthy and used. This was the third time he’d invited you over ‘just to talk’, and the third time he’d coaxed you into bed. “I can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to her.”
“Danaerys is out of town every other week, it’s not like she’ll find out!” He slid out of the bed, approaching you and moving to grab your hands. “Baby.” He frowned as you pulled away.
“No. That’s not going to work this time. You need to choose, Daario. Me, or her?”
Missandei had always respected your quiet strength. You weren’t a fighter by any means, but you stood up for your ideas and opinions, even when more unsavory characters would bully you into silence. The idea of any woman, especially a former slave, voicing her opinion was threatening to them, and though Khaleesi had repeatedly encouraged you to raise your voice, you were often found in the back of the room, listening and speaking only when asked.
It was a habit she was trying to free you of.
“You’re not a slave anymore, Y/N. You can say whatever you want to. You’re intelligent and wise,” she caressed your cheek, nudging you into meeting her eyes. “Speak your mind.”
“I love you.” You responded, heart soaring at a million miles a minute, cheeks flushed with the warmth of young love. “Can I say that?”
Missandei pulled you quickly into a soft and extended kiss, her thumbs tracing circles on your jaw. “Especially that.”
You looked up at her from the ground, panting, forehead slicked with sweat, feeling the aching and burning of your muscles as Brienne smiled and turned away, ending your lessons in combat as normal, with you lying on your back, wiped out.
“Better luck tomorrow, Lady Y/N.”
“I bet I could beat you, if I really tried.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Really? Should we give it another go, then?”
After considering the bruises you were already going to sport tomorrow, you reconsidered. “On second thought, I’ll give you a pass for today.”
Anoymous requested: Can you make a young!tywin lannister x reader where he they meet and fall in love and have sex before the wedding?
warning: brief smut
{I’m on good streak of writing, and since I publish when I finish editing, I’ve been going back to fulfill some of my older requests, and this one caught my interest. Enjoy this energy while it lasts! This is a little break from Robb, hope you guys enjoy!}
Tywin was a rational man. He thought out each step before he made it, each word before he said it, even a sideways glance was calculated and measured to an almost scientific degree. He’d been schooled in the importance of sound decision making, the importance of securing a suitable wife who’s name was as good as her looks. He’d assumed that the wives’ tales of love at first sight were only fables for girls who dreamed of being princesses, and that he would learn to love whoever his family picked for him.
He’d first seen you in the gardens at Casterly Rock, a few days before a tourney, cooing and extending a gentle hand to coax a dove onto your finger, your attention singularly focused on your task.
He smiled a little as he watched you tempt the bird with promises of seed from the kitchens, and laughed as the bird took flight, a string of muttered curses following it into the sky. “You’d do better with a net than your hand.”
{As I was sifting through the mountain of requests that remain, I realized I’d hit a string of Robbs, so apologies if my blog seems a little Robb-centric as I finish up some older requests. The sequel to this has been long requested, so here it is!}
The indifference between the King and Queen of the North was palatable, and uncomfortable for all other parties involved in their extended lover’s spat. He treated you as a token of your father’s loyalty, one that even his tender heart exploited. You publicly questioned his decisions and ability as a leader, which was equally as damaging to his reputation.
The most recent example of this proverbial winter was a meeting of banner-men, during which, you were asked to leave, a first since your union months ago.
You lifted a brow and glanced briefly towards the men watching your reaction, including your father, and back to Robb. “What are you doing?”
He barely looked up from his maps, his posture stiff and unflinching. “I asked you to leave, Y/N. You have no business in our military proceedings.”
Anonymous requested: “I wonder if you could whip up another Robb Stark x Male Reader with smut please. Something along the lines of a royal visitor arrives at Winterfell with whom Robb is extremely taken with, the visitor likewise and they sneak off in the dead of night to do the deed.”
warnings: sexual thoughts and actions, sexual teasing and descriptions
You’d always had a weakness for the pretty ones. The first sons of Lords who had a veritable endless inheritance, but would bet it all on a single night of unfamiliar pleasure. It’d become a game for you. A few words, followed by a few glances, and if everything turned out well…
You were one of the lesser Tyrell cousins, little to inherit and even less expected of you, so you experienced a certain degree of freedom unusual for men of your standing. You’d begun a grand tour of Westeros, starting in King’s Landing and drifting through several other cities, before finding yourself in the temperate (to put it lightly) North.
The Stark family had treated you kindly, and invited you to stay as long as you’d like, and with their vision of an eldest son, you planned to be abusing their hospitality for a few weeks longer.
@andtheytoldustotellyouhello requested “Or a Stark!reader x Willas tyrell where they get married before Robert dies and then she saves her sisters from the capital?”
[Thank you for the request!]
§
The Reach was no place for a Stark. Despite all the whispered encouragements and feather-light kisses her husband would give her, Y/N could be assured of this.
Starks belonged in the North, in the snow; in Winterfell.
Each morning the handmaidens would approach with a new gown, thin and form fitting. Each would be a piece of art, embroidered flowers trailing up the bodice, gold threaded needles. It was all astoundingly beautiful, but Y/N missed home. She missed her sisters and her brothers and her father and her mother. She missed the weight of a cloak over her shoulders, or the fur lined bedsheets that greeted her warmly each night.
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 