WARNINGS! Suicidal thoughts and actions, mentions of death! If you are suicidal, and think this may be triggering, please exercise caution!
@olgalangdon requested: “second, you should make one with Arthur Dayne x Baratheon or Stark Reader where they are deeply in love but when the war starts Arthur breaks up with her to keep her safe. Really sad and when ned kills arthur he tells the reader and she drowns herself.”
{I changed the request slightly, and I hope that’s alright! Enjoy!}
@andtheytoldustotellyouhello requested “How about Robert and cersei’s oldest daughter (not myrcella) marrying into dorneand just washing her hands of the mess that is king’s landing?”
[This is a bit of a shorter one!]
Her grandfather had once said that a Lannister wedding was a grand affair.
@andtheytoldustotellyouhello requested “Could I request a Robb x lannister!reader where they get married before the show/serious starts and how they react to the king’s visit to winterfell?”
[Warning: Some references to sex]
[I’m struggling a bit with writing the sequel to Pride, so I might post a few one shots while I’m feeling inspired. Requests are still open, and totally encouraged!]
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His fingers traced over the exposed skin of her shoulders, his lips pressing light kisses to her neck.
Y/N shifted slightly in her sleep, her eyes fluttering open, and she spared him a small smile, usually reserved just for her Stark husband. Pressing her face against his chest, she drew deep breaths, sunlight streaming in through the open window.
@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!]
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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.
[Thanks for the request! Brief strong language warning. Hope you enjoy!]
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Her sneer was unimaginably cold, and she glared at her father across the table. “What… strategy is this?” Her meal sat abandoned in front of her. “You would make me a hostage, a token of your submission? Marry me to some Stark brat?” She was more Bolton than she knew.
@andtheytoldustotellyouhello requested: “Tyrell!reader who marries oberyn cause him and willas are totally planning on Dany being queen?“
[Thanks for the request! Warning of suggestive teasing, but no actual smut.]
He found himself watching her again. The small lady from the Reach, too wrapped up in her flowers to notice the carnal way he eyed her. His bride to be. His quill had stalled on the page, frozen mid-letter. His gaze narrowed, eyeing the way her hips swayed as she walked. Maybe she did know that he was watching.
warnings: brief mention of past smut, and use of alcohol.
[I decided to stick with a modern!au on this one! I also altered the request slightly to add a narrative element, and I hope you enjoy it!]
Loving Oberyn was not an easy task.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Being in love with Oberyn was not an easy task. Falling in love with him was without a doubt the easiest thing she’d ever done.
Particularly, it was difficult being in love with Oberyn when he did not know it.
Mentions of Domestic Violence + Strong Language Warning!
{Hope you enjoy! This ended up being a bit short, so, sorry!}
The Maester trailed behind Ramsay, stuttering as he attempted to dissuade the Bolton. “My Lord, the Lady is quite weary, perhaps it’s best-”
Ramsay glared coldly over his shoulder, his mouth set in a firm line. “My Lady is none of your concern. Nor is my offspring. Your purpose has been served, now, stop pestering me.”
The Maester nodded once, frowning to himself.
Everyone knew of Ramsay’s penchant for strong male heirs, particularly his insistence that the Gods would bless him with a healthy son. Though Ramsay had never been devout, he’d exhausted every prayer, every blessing he could buy, all to ensure that the child in her womb would be a male heir.
Mmmm, something cute between Rhaegar’s younger sister (reader) and Arthur Dayne? Maybe he sees her fall and quickly rushes over to check on her. Her leg is all scraped up and she’s trying not to cry but tears are sliding down her cheek. Arthur sees to her injury?”
She’d never been the most graceful princess. Rhaegar often joked that she was always waiting for some Lord to sweep her off her feet, and as such, she was always prepared to fall head over heels. Even as such, Y/N remained unwed. Whether it was her own independence, or her father’s madness, suitors were surprisingly sparse.
It didn’t stop her from dreaming, of course.
Her dreams were littered with fantasies of a valiant lover, of kind heart and pure intentions.
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 