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.
Robb’s back was resting against the lip of your bathtub, wringing his hands to keep from grabbing the small piece of plastic that determined whether or not you were starting a family together.
You were sitting on top of the toilet seat, resting your chin on your fist and rocking back and forth on your heels. The waiting was undoubtedly the worst part.
His phone chimed with a small rhythmic alarm, and his hand flew for the pregnancy test, but stopped just short. He glanced up at you with a nervous smile. “Do you want to look?”
Licking your lips, you reached down to grab the test, and glanced at the indicator, processing the positive result displayed on the small white screen. You glanced up at Robb, your eyes beginning to water, as you quietly remarked: “I think I’m pregnant.”
Robb felt a burst of elation in his chest, and he quickly pulled you to your feet and into his arms, engulfing you in an embrace. The moment was too perfect for words, but he buried his nose in your hair, and held you close, the way he intended to for the rest of his life.
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.”
@future-ll-evans requested: “Rhaegar and Sister! Reader so he’s not stupid and doesn’t die”
Sibling Incest Warning!
{Sorry, this is a bit of a shorter one!}
In the five or so years since the two had been wed, Rhaegar had never seen his sister so fiercely angry. She’d turned her back on him, and was muttering quiet curses in their mother tongue, her cheeks flushed a deep red. Finally, she turned back to him.
“A Stark?” She demanded, shoving him harshly. “Honestly Rhaegar, what were you thinking?”
He was infuriatingly calm. “She’s beautiful, and I’m certain many men love her, the crown belonged to her.” He flashed a testy smile, keeping his tone pleasant.
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 