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claymoresword · 5 months

Text

Where's My Love

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader 🐺

Prompt: I was wondering if you could write a Cersei x Stark!fem!reader where she's Ned's youngest sister and Cersei's ex-secret lover. Reader is a rebel like Arya and never married but she's very protective of her nieces/nephews. She and Cersei had a bad breakup and are finally reuniting during the events of the first GOT episode when the king's court goes to Winterfell. You could write reader backing up Arya again Joffrey and Cersei seething 😂😂😂 you can include g!p and smut if you want.

Wordcount: 5.8k

Pairing: Cersei x Stark Reader

Warnings: g!p reader, smut, power play, depictions of physical abuse, cheating , very toxic , references to alcoholism, breeding kink if you squint, emotional manipulation, did i already say this was toxic ?

Note: thank you so much 🐑 for the prompt! i actually had a lot of fun writing this one. also important to note this is my first time actually publishing something y'all have requested me to write so hopefully i got this right.. i know i tweaked and added a couple things but i hope you don't mind! and if you hate this i'm sorry lmao i tried <33

(smut after asterisks)

Bouts of laughter erupt from your nephews as Bran once again misses his mark, the arrow flies way over the target.

You glare at the older boys, in response Robb places a hand over his mouth, Jon instead chooses to avoid your gaze entirely focusing his stare at the ground beneath.

All dirt and sleet on the base of your boot, the ground squelched with every step you took.

“Try again, Bran. Take a deep breath, aim properly.” You order placing a lingering hand on his shoulder.

The young boy nods obediently as you step back once more, he raises his bow arm.

He aims, soon releasing the string, and once again, he misses. The arrow pierces the edge of a barrel on the far left, leagues away from his actual target.

Once again the boys burst into fits of laughter, this time is it not you who reprimands them.

“And which one of you was a marksman at ten?” You follow the sound of your brother's voice, he is standing on the balcony above, Catelyn by his side.

“Keep trying, Bran.” Jon decides to cease his teasing, he encourages his half-brother.

A sudden gust of wind tickles your face, the cold breeze permeates the air, bleeding through the thin fabric of your doublet. You immediately regret not putting on more layers this morning. You have lost track of the days, but there is no doubt that winter is coming.

“Robb, make certain your brother continues practicing. I am going back inside, but remember– your father is watching.” You warn your eldest nephew, as stern as you can manage.

Shaggy streaks of red hair fall over his eyes as he nods.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you start up the stairs, but your plan to slip back into your chambers unnoticed fails.

“Y/n.” Cat appears next to you.

“Are you alright?” The Lady of Winterfell asks, and you force a sweet smile, one to disarm and hopefully quell her worries.

Catelyn didn't exactly warm to you at first, and neither did you with her, but over time you both grew to truly care for one another. She was like an older sister to you, the void left by your late sister Lyanna did not seem so large with her around.

“I'm fine, I just needed to fetch something from my bedchambers, that's all.” You lie. However, the older woman somehow always manages to see right through you.

She gazes upon you skeptically only to eventually release your arm. She takes a step back, allowing you to take your leave without further interrogation.

In truth, you were far from alright.

Despite yourself, you have been on edge since finding out that the King is on his way to Winterfell with his Lady wife and all of their children.

This visit is a sudden one. Upon the death of Jon Arryn you had expected things to be different, knowing how much the former Hand meant to your brother– but you never anticipated a visit from the King himself.

You hadn't seen Robert in nine years, and his wife for longer than that.

It is not by accident.

If it was up to you, things would be different. You would still be in King's Landing today, perhaps serving as Knight– or as Cersei had once intended, a personal guard for the Queen.

You were once certain that you would spend the rest of your days by Cersei's side, no matter the circumstances, but you merely held the high hopefulness of a young girl.

Since then have been forced to accept that life is nothing like the tales and songs you were fed as a child. The Gods are not always merciful, things rarely ever go to plan and love most certainly does not conquer all.

Life got in the way of your love, and pride did the rest.

You have not spoken to Cersei Lannister in a decade, yet your entire being continued to ache with every day that you have spent apart. Time does not heal the type of hurt that only yields to resentment.

When the King and Queen arrive for their visit on the morrow, you intend to avoid her Grace at all costs, for her sake and your own. Above all, you will have no choice but to grit your teeth and endure what you must.

You haven't seen Cersei in years, but you were bound to slaughter each other given the chance.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Come in!” You beckon whoever was on the other side of the door as you fastened the clasps on your doublet.

Ned ceases his knocking, pushing the door open, he looks upon you in a way he knew you hated, but your brother can hardly help it.

He worries about you. When you returned home all those years ago, you were inconsolable.

You are a Stark, not made for the South. Your brother tried in jest, but he knew it wasn't the weather, or even court politics that despaired you.

It was Cersei, it had always been Cersei.

"The King was seen riding up; he should be arriving any moment.” Ned states.

“Right, I'm almost done here.” You quip, but the man takes it upon himself to assist you with your sheepskin cloak, draping it over your shoulders.

He keeps his hands on you, his brows furrowed with evident worry, and for some reason you can't help but find it all a bit silly, you chuckle lightly. “I will be fine, Ned.”

Your brother appears less than convinced, you shove him playfully. “You worry about me too much, brother, it’s beginning to age you.”

Ned scoffs. “Aye, try being in my position for a day and you'll understand why I worry so much… but it is time that's aging me, little sister.” Ned quips in response and this makes you pause.

You notice the streaks of white, scattered across his dark locks. As the morning sun peeks through the window, catching his face, you observe more of those streaks in his beard.

Where has time gone?

Ned steps closer, it seems that he has mistaken your silence for something else. Your brother plants a quick kiss on the crown of your head as a result.

In times like this you can't help but feel like a girl of thirteen again, looking to her older brother for protection.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You watched as the Kingsguard rode through the walls of Winterfell, Lannister banners in hand. It unsettles you more than you thought it would. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, turning to Sansa, her younger sister still nowhere in sight.

“Sansa, where is your sister?” You question and the girl only shrugs dismissively, but you aren't left wondering for long as Arya can be seen pushing through the crowd, quickly settling next to you.

The young girl was wearing an iron helm you had never seen before, her once pristine dress now ornamented with specks of dirt and grime. You shake your head disapprovingly, an effort to suppress your amusement.

Sansa scoffs at the sight of her younger sister, while you snatch the helm off Arya's head, she looks up at you with a scowl.

“Where did you even get this?” You ask, your tone manages to match the look on her face.

Arya gives you no response, and you aren't allowed the opportunity to press her further as you feel a nudge against your arm. Ned forces you to look ahead as the King can be seen dismounting his horse.

Ned kneels, and you and everyone else follows suit.

After a beat, the King's command all of you to rise, and soon you spot the carriage halting a few feet behind him.

You involuntarily held your breath as the door opens. The Queen emerges, she keeps her gaze ahead as she climbs down the steps.

Cersei looks the picture of poise and grace. She seems older, and somehow even more beautiful than you remembered. It knocked the wind right out of you, you had to look away.

Your eyes are no longer on the Queen, but your chest aches all the same.

“Cat!” Your attention is pulled to the display before you as the King addresses your sister in law, pulling her in for an embrace that she doesn't appear to be prepared for.

“Nine years. why haven't I seen you, where the hell have you been?” Robert addresses your brother once more.

“Guarding the North, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” Ned replies, practiced and noble as he always was.

Robert then turns to you, a scowl upon his face, one that stuns you slightly. Your mind turns to Cersei, you consider what she might have shared with her Lord husband in your absence.

She must have told him the real reason you left King's Landing, no doubt the King will want you punished for repeatedly bedding his wife all those years ago. but then the King's frown turns, and your mind ceases its torment.

Robert lunges only to pull you in for an embrace, a gesture that startles you, your body remains tense until he releases you from his hold.

“I expected better from you, Y/n.” The King narrows his gaze in a puckish manner.

“Unlike your damned brother here I thought you enjoyed the Keep. I was sure you wanted to serve in my Kingsguard.” He adds, and you force a grin, gallant yet strained.

“I admit that was a different time, Your Grace. These days, my passions lie elsewhere.” You reply, and you can hardly prevent the way your gaze flits towards the Queen for a moment.

Cersei has been stood beside her husband, staring at you relentlessly for the entire duration of this interaction. If the Queen has remained the same person she was all those years ago, then you know for certain this was her attempt to intimidate– but you were not so keen on letting her have the upper hand.

You drill your expression, unfazed.

The King snorts derisively at your answer, but says nothing more.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You had spent most of the afternoon, drowning in your cups. The knowledge that Cersei was only a few doors away was aggravating, everything you thought to have successfully repressed has now resurfaced.

Every inch of you calls out to Cersei, your very soul yearns for her. You craved the unbearable pain, and blinding pleasure that came with being around her.

You have laid awake many nights picturing the ways you would confront her. The things you would say to her.

You fantasized about the possibility of finally being rid of all of your pain. To hurt her the same way she hurt you. Your heart, dense and cold, obstructed by all things Cersei. Within you, you carried everything you despised about the other woman– and all the things you adored.

The Queen was a mistake you couldn't erase, and simultaneously the best thing that has ever happened to you. You hate her, but you cannot stand to be apart from her.

The sound of commotion snatches you out of your thoughts. The voices that permeate sound vaguely familiar to you, but you are only able to place them once you take a glance out your window.

You spot Arya and Bran in the courtyard. Prince Joffrey standing over them, your face falls as you spot his steel unsheathed from his scabbard and in his hand.

Without another moment's thought you rushed downstairs towards the training yard, prepared to pacify the affair, however dire it may be, but it seems Arya has taken the situation into her own hands.

Bran is gone, but the Prince is now on the ground. It seems that Arya has managed to disarm the older boy, his steel thrown to the side in the dirt.

Now she is threatening Joffrey with a wooden practice sword, her direwolf beside her, growling with intent at the Prince.

“Arya enough!” You intercept the blow, forcefully dragging your niece away from the boy.

“What the seven hells do you think you're doing?” You bark, and Arya drops the sword, her chest still heaving.

A young girl seething with unbridled fury was such an uncommon sight that it makes you grimace.

“He was trying to hurt Bran! I had to protect him.” Arya gestures to the Prince, the boy still whimpering in pain.

“Damn you and that stupid dog! I am telling my mother! I will report you to the king!” Joffrey hurls his threats, and Arya makes the juvenile decision to respond.

“Nymeria's a direwolf, not a dog!” She shouts and you sigh, placing a hand over your niece's mouth to silence her, an action Arya fights but your grip on her doesn't relent.

“My Prince, I am sure my niece meant no harm–” You try but the boy interjects.

“No harm?” The Prince hisses. “She nearly sliced my arm off!” Once again he whimpers like a pup that had just been trampled.

You take a step forward to examine the cut on Joffrey's arm, and it was only that– a minor cut, one that will heal without leaving as much as a scar.

Large footsteps approach, the Prince's sworn guard comes rushing to the scene, Sandor Clegane scowls at you before assisting the boy to his feet effortlessly with one hand.

“Some protector you are, dog. I almost died!” Joffrey then redirects his frustrations towards his guard.

He continues muttering insults as he retrieves his sword from the dirt, strutting out of the training yard.

Nymeria doesn't cease her growling until the boy was entirely out of sight, it was also only then you remove your hand from Arya's mouth.

“Have you completely lost your wits?” You gape, looking down at your niece disapprovingly, before kneeling to be at eye level with her.

“He was–” Arya starts, but you interrupt.“–I don't care what he did, Arya. You never attack a Prince.” You state firmly.

“You do something like this again and I will make sure you never get the chance to wield a weapon again, do you understand?” You assert, and your tone is harsh enough to make Arya wince.

She doesn't reply with words, she continues looking down at her feet as she nods.

“Let's go and get you cleaned up.” You state, you try to pull her by the arm but Arya doesn't budge.

“I was trying to be brave, like you.” She mutters under her breath, and you turn to look at the young girl once more.

“What?” You ask.

“Don't be upset with me, please, please. I'm sorry.” Then Arya states frantically, her voice small and frail– it shatters you.

“Oh, Arya– my sweet girl.” You say, kneeling once again. “I'm not upset, I was worried.�� You pull her in for an embrace, your niece clutches you tightly in return.

After a prolonged moment, you cease the hug, wiping away some of the dirt from her face with the pads of your thumbs.

Then you took a quick scan of your surroundings, to ensure that you were alone before speaking again.

“Our Prince is a bit of a cunt.” You finally quip, earning a chuckle from Arya.

“He is.” Your niece beams at you, in turn this makes you fill with relief.

“I am proud of you for disarming him. but next time, leave it at that. Do you understand the consequences that come with attacking a King's heir?” You ask, and you watch as a realization graces the young girl, she averts her gaze, this time with guilt.

“Never again, do you hear me?”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You were exhausted from the events of the day, and yet it was not close to over.

You decide to retire to your chambers, aiming for at least a few hours rest before the King's welcome feast later this evening.

Resting your hand on the pommel of your sword, you take large steps through the gallery. You crave the horn of ale waiting for you on your nightstand, the comfort of your warm bed.

You turn the corner, a figure appears before you and you swerve out of the way quickly enough to avoid whoever it was that decided to walk toward you in this exact moment from the opposite direction.

As you gather yourself to take a proper look at the woman who you nearly bumped into, your blood runs cold.

“Your Grace, forgive me.” You state curtly, inclining your head at Cersei.

Your hand remains resting on the hilt of your sword as you attempt to slip past her, but before you can successfully walk away, she has a hold of your arm, dragging you backwards to where you stood.

You yank your arm out of her hold, a scowl covers your features, but Cersei ignores your visible discontent as she speaks.

“That niece of yours tried to murder my son.” The Queen accuses.

“What?” You can't help the half-laugh that slips out of you. Cersei takes offense to this, her expression hardens.

“Joff will bear those scars for the rest of his life.” She is not backing down, and you can't pretend that you possessed the will to deal with her theatrics.

You only roll your eyes, finally slipping past her and into your chambers.

You step inside your room, but before you can close the door Cersei intercepts, forcefully pushing it open to let herself in.

She slams it closed behind herself.

“You dare walk away from your Queen?” She bellows.

This time you groan, collapsing onto your bed.

You ignore her statement, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration. “Oh, Cersei, it is a cut, it'll heal!”

A prolonged silence from the Queen, she only speaks again once you sit up in your bed.

“You've not changed a bit.” She remarks, treacherous emerald gaze meeting your pale greys.

“Neither have you.” You retaliate boldly.

More silence until Cersei is first to look away, clasping her hands infront of herself she assumes an impassive stance.

“I will have that girl punished.” The Queen threatens, her tone sounds spiteful. but you don't hide your incredulity.

“For what?” You ask, and Cersei's jaw clenches even tighter, you wonder if she might lunge at you.

“She attacked my son. the King's heir.” Cersei retorts, and you scoff.

“Is that what Robert’s teaching his sons? How to lose to a little girl?” You taunt, not backing down.

You knew Arya should receive consequences for her actions by right, but giving Cersei that satisfaction is the absolute last thing you plan to do.

“Or is it not the King's doing at all?” You ask again as Cersei fails to respond. You rise from the bed, stepping closer to the Queen.

“Is it Jaime's fault?” You tilt your head inquisitively, mockingly.

You are close enough to smell the lavender oil on Cersei's skin. Her eyes flit to your lips for a fleeting moment, and yours do the same to hers.

Then a madness overcomes you, prompting your next choice of words.

“I expect it is him you've been opening your legs for these days–” You utter, but you are swiftly silenced when Cersei's palm makes contact with your cheek.

She slaps you across the face, your head turns slightly from the force of it. Your face is now throbbing, raw and red with traces of Cersei's wrath.

She goes to strike you again, and this time it is intercepted by your firm grip on her wrist.

A fury reignites within you as Cersei tries to fight out of your hold, entirely allowing your emotions to guide your actions, your hand finds her throat. Before your rational mind can mitigate it, you have your fingers firmly wrapped around her neck. The back of her head slams against the wooden door as you forcibly pinned her upon it.

The Queen is clawing at your hand, struggling to take a breath as you restricted her airway. A real fear flashes across Cersei's face, and a part of you wants to watch her fall limp within your grasp, to quiet her once and for all, to destroy the cause of your agony. but you don't– instead you take a step back, releasing her.

Cersei gasps as air sharply re enters her lungs, roughly wiping away the tears that have made it down her cheeks.

The Queen attempts to regain her resolve the best she can, and the look she gives you is not one of shock, instead it is pure disdain, and you look at her the same. Cersei doesn't speak, she merely shoves you harshly with both hands against your chest, as you stumbled back, she turns to open the door.

You collapse on your bed once more as Cersei dissapears into the hallway, the door shutting behind her.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. It seemed the Queen will never fail to elicit the worst from you– to make you act like an utter lunatic.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

The welcome feast has been dragging on now for what felt like an eternity.

The King was no longer seated as his high table, instead he was in the center of the hall, shamelessly flirting with some of the servants.

You roll your eyes, reaching for the flagon of ale infront of you, as you attempted to lift it, it doesn't budge. You fleetingly wonder if the liquor had caused you to lose all strength in your arm, only to realize your brother was holding the jug firmly on the table so it wouldn't move.

You squint at Ned, and he glares at you in return.

“Enough. You'll drink yourself into an early grave if you keep this up.” Your brother warns and it makes you snigger.

“That is the plan, brother.” You slur slightly, but Ned makes the deliberate effort to ignore you.

You slump backwards in your chair, when you've realized you lost this argument, as you often did when it came to the lord of Winterfell.

You eyes fall upon King Robert once more, he is still in the middle of the room, surrounded by maidens and even more whores.

This time he is no longer flirting with them, he is in a full lip lock with one of the women. He does this in the presence of the Queen, dishonouring her for all to see.

You grimace at the sight, an unwanted rage overcomes you. You can hardly believe this lecherous drunk was King of the Seven Kingdoms. Married to the most beautiful woman in all of the seven kingdoms, the only woman you have ever wanted.

You can't bear to look at Cersei's reaction to this, in fact you can hardly remain at this feast for a moment longer. You abruptly rise from your seat, Ned looks up at you, puzzled.

“May I please be excused?” You asked formally for the rest of the table to hear and your brother hesitates before nodding curtly in response.

As you walked back to your chambers you can't help but invision what your life would have been like if your brother had taken the Iron throne instead of Robert Baratheon. If you had remained in King's Landing– if you had wedded Cersei instead.

Perhaps in a different life.

You and Cersei would be married, and you'd rule together. In another reality Cersei would be your Queen and not Robert's. She would bear your children, your heirs. You would grow old together and live out your days by each other's side. In a different life, you would have remained faithful to Cersei, you would have given her everything she desired and in return, Cersei would offer you her heart.

You would have been happy.

In another life.

By the time you reached your room, the tears had stopped flowing, but the collar of your shirt remained drenched.

As you shut your door, you unclapsed your doublet, lifting it above your head, tossing it aimlessly across the room.

Now only in your tunic and breeches, you feel the urge to weep some more, but you refuse to allow your tears to fall this time.

You take a seat on the settee, head in your hands. The effects of the ale already wearing off, a headache rapidly setting in, you realized that you needed another drink.

You get up to fetch the flagon from the small table but as your door flings wide open, nearly hitting you in the process, you freeze where you stand.

A familiar golden haired beauty emerges through the doorway, and you allow yourself a deep breath. Clutching your chest slightly to calm yourself.

“Your Grace, the hour is late.” You state dismissively, starting across the room to fetch your goblet.

“If you have come to order my execution for my behaviour this afternoon, best get it over with.” You quip, the liquor in your system doing all of the talking for you.

You hear the door shut, without looking back you assume Cersei had taken her leave but you are perplexed when you turn to see her still standing by the door, watching you set down your goblet.

You walk across the room once more to take a seat on the settee, you remove your boots, setting them aside.

Cersei has remained silent for long enough that you nearly forgotten her presence entirely. Her next ask startles you.

“Look at me.” Her commanding tone leaves no room to argue, you glance at her.

Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks flushed. It is clear to you that she has been crying as well.

You rise from your seat abruptly, approaching her. “Are you alright?” You ask, and again the Queen says nothing.

She merely stares at you, hopefulness at your concern and despair at the fact that you needed to ask.

She lunges forward, before you can fully comprehend it, her lips crash against your own, she kisses you deeply, pure anguish and want. It snatches the air right out of your lungs, but you have no desire to pull away.

Your tongue makes contact with her own and Cersei moans, pulling you impossibly closer by the nape of your neck.

Your body pressed up against hers as she leans against the wall. You were now both panting into the kiss, all aggression and desire.

You had not been with Cersei like this in a decade, and yet there was a complete lack of uncertainty. It felt right, you were certain that you are meant to be with her like this, until the end of your days.

However, there still exists voice deep within you, whether it is pride or reason, you cannot say for certain. but it urges you to pull away, so you do.

The Queen chases your lips eagerly, but you pull back even further. “Cersei, stop. What is this, what are you doing?” You ask, every moment you spent without your lips on hers felt like pure agony.

“I just need you– please–” Cersei replies with a desperation you have never heard before, and this was enough to break you.

Any semblance of dignity vanishes into the very depths of yourself, all that's left is your deep and tortuous want for Cersei.

You kiss her again, rough and urgent, you are panting and groaning into each other's mouths. Cersei's hands immediately move to the hem of your breeches, she unlaces them in record time, slipping her hand inside.

You nearly lose it all when she wraps her fingers around the base of your cock, stroking it with such dexterity you fear your knees may give out.

“Gods–” You grunt, bucking your hips embarrassingly into her touch.

You find the strength to remove her hand from your breeches. Soon enough you slip them off, your slacks pooling around your ankles before you kicked them to the side.

You swiftly remove your own tunic as Cersei's trembling hands struggle to undo the laces of her dress.

Your patience wearing thin, you flip her around, indecently ripping the fabric open with one swift tug.

“Y/n–” Cersei scolds in response to your eagerness, glancing back at you with dissaproval, but her dress easily slips off her shoulders after that, her smallclothes follow suit.

The Queen is still facing away from you as you part her hair away from her neck, trailing open mouthed kisses against her hot flesh, as you reached a certain familiar spot, your teeth grazed the skin, before biting down on it briefly.

This earns a louder noise from Cersei, she is still trembling as she turns back around to face you, grabbing you firmly to pull you in for another sloppy kiss.

Lips still interlocked, the Queen walks you backwards onto the bed, Cersei doesn't waste another moment, straddling you as soon as you settled your rear on the edge of the bedding.

Your cock now stiff as a rod, poking at Cersei's entrance. The other woman begins moving her hips as you kissed, rubbing her cunt on the length of your shaft, coating it with her slick.

Your breath quickens, the sensation was maddening, you needed to be inside her now.

“Gods, I missed you.” You let it slip as your lips parted for a moment, but Cersei doesn't respond.

The Queen's grip on the nape of your neck moves to your hair as she grasps a handful of it, tugging your head back slightly. Her other hand travels south, she grips the base of your cock once more, this time lining it up to her entrance.

She begins lowering herself onto your length, Cersei moves quickly, with every inch that enters her, she lets out a gasp at the sensation. Soon you are sheathed inside of her to the hilt, and Cersei throws her head back, she releases an unrestrained moan, her hands now firmly on your shoulders.

She attemps to push you back against the bed, but you refuse to budge. Cersei relents, kissing you again as she moves her hips up and down the length of your cock. With every moan from Cersei you retaliate with a groan.

The feeling of her walls fluttering against your girth made you dizzy. The Queen felt so unbelievably good wrapped around your cock, you had forgotten just how intoxicating it was.

Now that you were experiencing it again, you never wanted it to end.

Vulgar noises of your coupling filled the room as Cersei moved herself desperately against your lap, your cock hitting just the right spots within her.

The Queen can feel her release already approaching, entirely overwhelmed by this she falls limp against you, but you manage to support her weight with minimal effort. Her hips still moving at a steady pace until it finally hits her, her orgasm washes over her like a wave.

Cersei cries out in pleasure, partially muffled against your neck, she holds onto you for dear life as her peak overcomes all her other senses, relentless and unforgiving. You feel her cunt clenching painfully around your cock, her short shallow breaths against your neck, she is trembling helplessly, and you never want to let her go.

“Seven hells.” The Queen breathes out, finally lifting her head to look at you.

Cersei's eyes were nearly glazed over, her chest heaving violently, but you were far from done with her.

You capture her lips with your own again, earning a content moan. You remained sheathed inside of her as you flipped your positions, now Cersei laid on the bed, with you on top of her. The other woman's gasp in surprise is muffled by your own mouth against hers.

Once again she moans into your mouth as you began your thrusts, deep and slow, you aim to feel every inch of her. Cersei wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you in even deeper.

The Queen gasps as your mouth found the swell of her breasts, your tongue leaving a trail of saliva as you expertly moved from one nipple to the other.

Your thrusts grow harsh and inconsistent as you felt your own climax building. Cersei's back arches, a deafening moan rips out of her.

You roughly placed your hand against her stomach, pinning her down against the bed as you continued to rut into her. Cersei was mewling and panting like a whore now as you used her for your own pleasure, heightening her own in the process.

The Queen finds just enough strength to pull you closer, her lips now against your ear.

“Tell me you love me.” Cersei pleads, and this takes you entirely by surprise, you slow your movements but you don't stop.

“What?” You ask, shaky, breathless.

“Just say it.” The Queen repeats amidst another moan, she clenches around your cock and the sound that emits from you then is guttural, primal.

You oblige without asking further questions.

“I love you, Cersei” You speak, from the heart, damning the consequences.

With that, Cersei reaches her peak again, her nails digging into the flesh of your back as she comes. The feeling of her perfect cunt milking your cock, accompanied by her writhing body underneath you was enough to push you over the edge.

As you attempt to pull out, Cersei kept her legs firmly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You are not given the opportunity to question it as it was already too late, you moaned as you released your load deep inside her, painting her womb with your seed.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Nearly a candlemark has passed since your coupling and neither you or Cersei have said more than a few words.

Simply embracing each other under the sheets, she rests her head against your shoulder, tracing circles absentmindedly with her finger against your abdomen.

This position was achingly familiar, almost as if no time had passed.

Cersei soon moves her hand further up, she traces her fingers across your bottom lip before running her thumb down the bridge of your nose. The sensation earns a chuckle out of you, you finally had to reach up to remove her hand, guiding it away from your face.

Cersei's stare betrays an intensity that makes your heart constrict painfully in your chest.

Still unspeaking, it was your turn to explore her body, but you don't get very far, your fingertips trace the faint bruising on her neck, the marks left by your own cruelty.

The Queen then shuts her eyes, she doesn't allow herself to look upon your guilt any longer. Wrapping her arm across your torso, nuzzling her face against your shoulder.

“I'm not letting you go– never again.” Cersei mutters, and the smile that tugs on your lips is one of relief and acceptance.

You don't supress the urge to plant a lingering kiss on her temple, one the Queen allows herself to melt into.

#cersei lannister smut #cersei x reader #g!p reader #cersei lannister #ned stark #stark reader #fem stark reader #ned stark x reader #catelyn stark #g!p

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missmielyhoran · 1 year

Text

Denial

face calim- Lily James

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

[Warning- Angst, Cheating, smut but not written, crying, alcohol consumption, more crying, suicidal thoughts, people not knowing meaning of privacy, Hayden being a bitch]

Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan3, Harryfan1 and 663,989 others

Y/Nupdates Y/N out with kids in London today getting ice cream.

View all comments.

Harryfan1 Milf fr

Harryfan2 Where are the kids?

Y/Nfan1 They're cropped out. Harry and Y/N didn't want their faces to be public yet.

Y/Nfan3 Is it just me, or have you guys also noticed that Harry has not seen with kids for a long time

Harryfan3 Maybe he's busy with new album and stuff

Y/Nfan1 No me too

Y/Nfan2 @/Harryfan3 he was seen with his friends at pub few days ago

Harryfan5 Aww she bought flowers for Harry

*****

They say that when someone dies, their whole life flashes before their eyes. The good, the bad, all moments move in front of their eyes like a movie, that's how you felt when you opened the door of your bedroom.

A movie of your marriage dying.

You were going through your day like normal. Your shooting had ended early, so you decided to pick up the kids from school and take them out for ice cream. They were now standing in the kitchen. You could hear their muffled giggles while you stood upstairs in front of your room like a mannequin watching your husband scramble and quickly put on clothes.

"Fuck- Baby I can explain-" Harry tried to approach you, but you couldn't look at him or react to his words. Your eyes remained trained on the woman lying on the bed, on your bed. Sheets up to her chest, her head perched up on her arm while she looked straight in your eyes without any shame or remorse. Oh no, she had a smirk on her lips.

"Kids are downstairs," You motioned with your thumb downstairs, "I- I'm going to drop them off, and then we will..." You couldn't complete the sentence. You felt like your body was on autopilot as you went downstairs and ushered the kids back to the car, your and Harry's four years old daughter asking why she couldn't see her dad and what could you say?

"He has some important work to do. Why don't you guys have a sleepover at Elliott's tonight?" You asked them, putting all your acting skills out there to hide the waver in your voice. Elliot was your ex-boyfriend and father of your eldest son Emiel.

"Yayyy" Amie clapped her hands, excited to hang out with her best friend. Meanwhile, Emiel stayed silent and looked at his mom from the passenger seat. You knew he knew something was wrong, considering he was older and much more aware of his surroundings than your little girl.

You just sighed and kept driving to Elliott's house. Soon enough, they arrived at the familiar small cottage-esc house. You got out of the car and then unstrapped Amie from the seat belt. As soon as you put her down, Amie ran towards the door and knocked on it, being too short to reach the doorbell. Emiel laughed and picked her up so she could ring the bell.

Soon enough, Elliot was opening the door with the biggest smile on his face. "If it isn't my two favorite people," He exclaimed and pulled both of them in hugs. Behind him, his Fiancé laughed at his antics, and she smiled a bit, too.

"Mom said we're having a sleepover!" Amie screamed near Em's ear, making him groan. It's then Elliot looked up, his blue eyes met her tired ones, and he knew something was wrong considering they were friends for a long time.

"Em, why don't you take her inside with Bran?" He smiled at his son, and Bran took them inside, talking about something.

"Are you okay?" Elliot immediately asked, and you shook your head. Your brain was still too jummbled to speak or to cry or to be angry or even comprehend what had happened.

"Why don't you come inside for a second and drink some water? I fear you might pass out from the way you're looking so pale." He looked at you concerned, and before you could protest, Elliott pulled you inside.

You sat on the dinner table and looked out to the garden, finding Em holding Amie in his arms, her head on his shoulder. The tiredness of school and excitement finally caughting up to her and knocked her out.

You took your phone out and clicked a picture, them being the only hope she could grasp on at the moment.

Elliot didn't ask any questions. He understood that if you wanted to talk, you would. He just stood there as emotional support staring at their kids as you drank the water.

"I might need them to be here for a few days before I sort things out. I hope you don't mind." You asked Elliott, looking up at him sadly. "You hurt me, sucre. Of course I don't mind." He shook his head and pulled you in a hug.

*****

Liked by Y/Nfan1, Annetwist, Harryfan4 and 1,987,456 others

Yourinstagram Mon chéri

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User1 Omg babiess

User2 That's Emiel? He has gotten so big

User3 I mean he's 13 now

User2 the small Gucci bag🥺she's soo like harry

annetwist Oh my sweet babies...miss you so much

Yourinstagram miss you too mom🥺

User4 still can't get over that she calls Anne mom😭

User4 Harry didn't comment?

*****

When you arrived at you-Harry's house, the sun was setting. You was dreading the conversation that was bound to happen. Six years went down the drain in a few hours.

Your whole life felt like a lie.

Harry was sitting on the couch when you walked inside. A major part of you hoped he had some explanation, that it wasn't what it looked like or that it was just a mistake. But when you walked more inside and saw her there still after everything, your heart cracked a bit more.

"Y/N," Harry breathed out, his voice coming out in heaves as if he's out of breath, but you knew him. You knew he was just nervous.

He looked so young when he was sad, his eyes droopy yet shining, the mess of curls and clenched jaw reminded you of the early Harry who stole your heart.

Now, he reminded you of the one that broke it.

"Why is she still here?" was asked first thing first you asked. Harry looked behind him, and Hayden just shrugged and plopped down on the kitchen bar stool eating chips while scrolling through her phone.

"Emotional support for him after you leave" She said with a wink pointed at Harry.

"I just thought it would be better to talk with all of us here," he said, fiddling with his fingers, as if searching for a ring on his ring finger, but there wasn't one. Now that you think of it, you hadn't seen him wear it in so long.

You should have seen the signs.

All you could do was nod. You sat down far away from him on the loveseat, which was ironic cause there was no love in the atmosphere.

"I-" Harry started but couldn't. He closed his mouth again and opened it again, gaping like a goldfish. He looked at you, and you looked at him. Your husband, the person you loved the most after your kids, your first love, your everything.

"How long?" You asked, looking at Harry with dead eyes. It had nothing in them, no spark, nothing just lifeless saphire stones to see.

"Five months," Harry said, looking down at the rug, unable to look into your eyes.

Five months...

They were at your parents' house for Thanksgiving six months ago. The first time, he met Hayden after being with you for almost seven years. He never met your sister, and there was a reason for that.

"Thanksgiving," you mumbled out to herself more than to anyone. He fell out of love with you for so long, and you didn't even know.

"Why, Harry?" You finally asked. You still couldn't cry. No, you still had no expression on your face. You felt like a ghost, pale, feelingless, breathing ghost.

"I don't know," He said, his own lips wobbling.

"I'm going upstairs, babe. Come when you sort this out." Hayden said, walking towards the stairs like she owned the house, "See ya, sis!" She yelled from the top of stairs.

Awkward silence sat between them. The lovers who were laughing, kissing, and playing with their kids just this morning are now sitting in a souless house with a dead relationship.

How can things change so fast?

"Y/N" Harry called you softly. You looked up hopefully, thinking he would say it now, say anything to save whatever was left. You could make a home out of ashes, but for that you did need the ashes.

"I think it's better if you stay here. The kids will not be able to adjust somewhere els-" Harry spoke but stopped when he heard a sniffle.

For the first time since you walked in on them, tears flooded down your face. In just a moment, your eyes were blood red, glistening with tears.

"Where will you live?" You asked with your wobbling voice. A frown took over Harry's face watching you cry, but he was to blame for that.

"I didn't mean for it to happen this way Y/N" he said guiltily.

"Then which way did you want Harry?" You shouted at him, "Having one of our kids walk in on you two, or were you thinking of running away with her? or just wake up one day and throw divorce papers on my face?" You asked, your crying increased, making you choke on it and go into coughing fit.

Harry on instinct went to help you, but you raised your hand, stopping him. "Don't." You shook your head and stood up, calming down your coughing fit.

"I just thought I would talk to you," Harry mummbled his head down, looking at floor.

"You thought you would talk to me. Was this thought came before you stick your dick into my sister or after that?" You asked him clearly angry. You were still crying, your knees felt weak, and your head felt dizzy.

"Harry, we still have time. I- we can still be together just throw her out of house and never see her again. I will not go to my parents' house but please." You fell down to your knees sobbing. You wanted to save the only real thing you ever had, the only person you ever loved, who had been through her thick and thin. You needed him. You needed him for the kids.

Harry was looking down at you sympathetically, his own tears falling down. He felt too much shame to look in your eyes when you looked up at up for answers.

"I don't-" He choked a bit, "I love her Y/N" He whispered.

The final nail was in, the corpse was six feet under, there was no ashes to make home from.

You stilled on the ground, then a loud sob broke from you. You cried with your legs tucked to her chest in a fetal position on the floor. Harry came beside you and brought you to his chest. This time, you didn't move away or push him. You clutched onto his shirt, fully sobbing into it.

You digged your nose into his neck, and the shirt smelled like you. Even after everything, he still smelled like you, but it didn't matter now, did it?

The two lovers cried, holding each other, knowing that once they broke away. Everything else would also be broken.

You didn't know how long it had been. You just knew Harry's shirt was fully wet with your tears, and all you could hear was his heartbeat.

You pulled away from him and looked up in his glistening green eyes and after everything for some reason your eyes held hope.

Maybe it was denial after all they do say it's thr first stage of grief.

But you still knew you had to get out of this house. So, you got up and fixed your clothes to best of your knowledge, tears still falling from your eyes.

You didn't say anything just made your way towards the door concerning Harry. "Y/N were are you going?" He asked following behind you.

"Kids are wt Elliot's" Was all you said as you got into the car and drove off. You didn't know where you were going but you just wanted to go far away from all this.

You weren't a mother who knew her daughter didn't go to sleep until she told her a bedtime story or a wife who just got cheated on by her husband. No, you were just a broken soul who got betrayed by a person who vowed never to hurt her.

You drove in autopilot like you have been for the whole day, how you were alive you didn't know. How many cars and trucks you have doged you didn't know, you didn't even know where you were.

It was a bridge of some kind, you would thinking living in this place for so long would grant you the knowledge of where you are but you didn't know shit. Parking on the side of the road you turned off the car and pulled your windows down. The night cold air filled up the car, making your nose and ears red immediately.

You looked around the place, the small city lights twinkling in the diatance, people returning to their homes. Many who will return to a empty space many to someone waiting for them but you? You lost your home.

Having so much money and fame couldn't give you back your home.

You cried, you cried until you couldn't. You cried until all the tears were drained and all there wad left was a ragining headache and heartache.

You got out of the car and stood near the bridge. Your hair blew in the cold air and somehow you knew you have caught cold. You hugged your coat closer to you searching for any type of warmth.

Putting your hands on the metal bridge you leaned into it more. The rings you were wearing clinked against the metal making you look down to your hands and there it was the pretty diamond he especially got made for you, the one that once held a promise, a promise of faithfulness, love and family and some how in just couple hours you lost all of that or maybe you lost it six months ago just didn't realize it.

You took it off. It didn't held any meaning now did it?

You started crying again. It felt like once the dam broke, it didn't want to stop, but maybe that was for the best. You had kids to be strong for.

Oh god the kids...

What were you going to tell them? Maybe Harry would come back for the kids? He didn't love you but kids? He would come for them, right?

You were soo consumed in you misery you didn't realize your phone was constantly ringing in car or the texts or that from cross the bridge couple of girls were taking your pics.

*****

Harry was getting scared.

When you left the house, he thought you would go to Elliot's house, but you weren't there, and now both of them were constantly blowing up your phone to get a hold of you.

You were in no shape of driving. He should have stopped you, but like most of his decisions, he had nothing to do but regret on them.

He walked back to the couch and plopped down. Hayden was still in the bedroom upstairs. The bedroom that was once yours and his. It felt wrong cause it was wrong, wasn't it? But he loved Hayden, so it has to be right? right?

He looked up from his lap, and his eyes went straight to the flowers sitting on the coffee table. It was a habit of yours to bring something home whenever you come back home early. Mostly, it was flowers or the sushi from the sushi place you both love and went to on your first date.

His heart grew heavy as he picked up the flowers, which might be the last one he ever receives from you. Before he could examine them more or cry over them, a pair of hands were taking them out of his hold.

"C'mon baby, let go to bed. I'm tired" Hayden pouted just like you used to, her same yet different eyes as yours looking back at him, and he couldn't resist. He gave her a somber nod and stood up, making his way upstairs. Once he was out of eyeshot, Hayden threw away the flowers in dustbin and happily made her way to the bedroom.

*****

Liked by Y/Nfan2, Y/Nfan4, Harryfan5 and 482,786 others

Y/Nnews Y/N spotted by some fans near the bridge.

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User1 Why she looks so sad?

User2 I met her..it was my friends who took the picture. I tried to tell them not to but they didn't listen.

User3 What happened?

User2 She looked sad and tired. I mean it's hard being mom but she her usual aura was down like she's usually so chirpy and happy but she looked like she didn't want to be disturbed so we didn'task for a picture.

User3 Yet you invaded her privacy and took her pictures

User4 Is it just me or did anyone else seeing that she's not wearing her wedding ring?

User3 Omg yes I didn't realize

*****

You didn't know when you got here. All you know is Elliot somehow found you and brought you back to his house. He left you in the guest room and asked you to call him if you needed something.

You tossed and turned for hours in bed, or maybe it had been a few minutes, time didn't exist for you anymore. You got up to go to the kitchen and get some water when you saw the wine bottle. The temptation was bad, your fingers were itching, and your mouth went dry.

If there was any time to get wasted, it was this. The evil little voice in your head said and you gave in.

You took the bottle out of the cellar and sat down on the floor with your back against the kitchen counter. You brought the bottle to your lips, your hands shaking so badly that you almost dropped it.

The first drop felt like heaven. Like an old friend, you meet after a long time who you cut off cause you knew they were toxic, but the feeling of sweet reconnection and nostalgia still felt like bliss.

You were so in your head thinking about wine that you didn't see Bran coming to the kitchen or watching you from the doorway. He wanted to stop you but knew it wasn't his place, so he went back to his bedroom where his soon to be husband was sleeping.

"Babe," He shook him lightly, "Babe, wake up" He said a bit loudly, making him whine and grumble. He felt bad for a bit cause Bran knew that things have been hard, the school wasn't doing so well so he had to work extra but right now you needed him and Bran knew Elliot will blame himself if something happened to you.

"What happened?" Elliot asked, "I think you should talk to Y/N. She's is in the kitchen.." Bran paused, "Drinking".

That woke Elliot up, "But she hadn't drunk ever since she got cl-" "I know that's why I said go talk to her before things get worse"

You were halfway done with the bottle when Elliot came back to the kitchen. You were hitting the back of your head against the counter, filling the silent kitchen with a thumping noise.

"Y/N" He called out softly and for a second he wished he didn't. You looked like a mess your already ruined makeup was now in shambles, your eyes blood red and your lips were adoring a drunk smile.

"Put the bottle down Y/N you're hurting yourself" Elliot said, sitting next to you. You rolled your eyes and took a big gulp of the wine again.

"My life is already ruined. What's the worst can happen now?" You said laughing, but there was no humor in it. It was hollow like you felt. A hollow shell.

"You want to tell me what happened?" He asked quietly, trying to take the bottle from you by distracting you.

You burst into tears hearing his question. You wanted to tell him, tell him everything that happened, but your brain was not letting you talk. Like keeping it to yourself will make it go away. It was still in denial that it really happened.

"I don't know how to," you said in between sobs. Elliot pulled you to his side, his hand rubbing up and down your back, trying to soothe your crying.

"Harry-" you said and sobbed harder. "You want me to call him?" He asked, but you just shook your head.

"C'mon sucre tell me what's going on." He urged you to tell him. As time went by, Eilliot became more and more concerned. It wasn't like you to cry so much over a fight. You were the one who mostly solved them. So, it had to be something big for you to be here and crying rather than with Harry.

You stared at him for a few seconds, contemplating if you should tell him, but who else would you tell? He was the only friend you had except your little brother who was miles away in Sydney.

So you told him. You told him how your shooting wrapped up early, how you picked up kids, and went home to surpirse your husband only to get your heart broken in the worst way possible. How your husband of five years and almost seven years of love was now in love with someone else and that someone else was none other than your sister.

"I'm going to break his face!" Elliot seethed and scrambled to get up from beside you, but you took his arm and pulled him down back beside you, having no doubt he actually would.

"It will do nothing but harm to you and to him." You sighed, wiping your tears. You started to hate the feeling of being sober after crying, so you took swing of your wine again.

"I just don't understand how and what went wrong." You said staring at the cupboard's golden handle, "We were so happy this morning. I went to shooting, and he dropped kids to school I-" You choked on the lump in your throat.

"Do you think maybe he's doing this to get back at me for leaving him to go to Venice last minute?" You asked Elliot, "Do you think it's just a elaborate prank, I mean you know how Hayden is, she's bitch I won't be surprised if she came up with the idea of this prank."

Elliot looked at you with sad eyes, his hands rubbing your arms affectionately. "If it's a prank then it's one fucked up prank sucre so no I don't think it's a prank" Elliot said sadly looking at your sleepy eyes.

"It has to be. I mean, we were talking about having another baby after my shooting ended. Why would he want to have another baby if he didn't love me?" You asked him, hoping to get any just any answer to soothe the ache in your heart.

"I think you should ask that to him once you get a bit better. For now lets get you to bed" He said, taking the bottle out of your hand amd you let him. The physical and mental exhaustion of day caught up to you, and pairing that with wine had you sleepy.

Elliot carefully placed you on the bed and then put a glass of water and painkillers on the bedside table, knowing you would have a bad hangover since you drank after a very long time.

Sleep engulfed you soon enough, and you dreamt of the time your life wasn't in distress.

*****

Harry woke up in the morning and smiled when he felt soft hands around his torso. It was the part of the relationship he didn't experience with Hayden, but now he could do it as much as he wanted.

He turned around and pulled her in a lazy kiss, which soon turned heated and led to his boxers flying off from bed and his hands trailing around naked her body earing soft sounds from her.

Both of them fell asleep again. Harry woke up around 10 am to a hungry stomach. For a second, he was about to yell for you cause you always brought him breakfast in bed on weekends. Only to realize his mistake, but before he could feel bad, his eyes fell on similar blonde hair, fanning your his pillow, and he forgot everything.

He took a quick shower and got ready to get some coffee and breakfast. He decided to wake up Hayden to ask what she wanted. "Babe, wake up. I'm going to get breakfast. Do you want anything? " He asked her, getting a grumble in reply.

But then Hayden woke up fully alert. "I want to go with you!" She said excitedly, "I can finally have all for me please" She said pleading and how could he resist her?

She went to ready while Harry sat on couch downstairs going through his phone, but when Hayden took too long, he went to look for her.

He heard hushed voices behind the closed door, "Babe, are you ready?" He called her and opened the door. She stood there with a bright smile, her hair side parted with a white t-shirt and blue jeans much like his outfit.

"C'mon, let's go!" She said and took his hand in hers. Harry smiled and went with her. They sat in the car, and Harry brought her hands to his lips and drove off.

They arrived the hidden cafe they went most of the time cause it was in small area where most people didn't recognize him and there were no chances of him getting caught.

He ordered his usual, and so did Hayden, but as soon as they got out of the cafe with their food, the flash of the camera went off and then another. Harry went into full panic mode cause not only this will go back to you but to the whole world and quickly took Hayden's hand running to his car, dodging questions, and camera flash both.

Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan2, Harryfan4 and 1,002,789 others

StylesNews Harry Styles seen out with mystery woman at secret cafe.

View all comments.

Y/Nfan2 That's Y/N's sister wtf

Harryfan1 I didn't know she had a sister

Y/Nfan2 they're not that close, Y/N told in an interview.

Harryfan3 He's hanging out with her family aww

Harryfan4 they look a lot closer for my taste🤨

Y/Nfan1 IKR like that hand holding is suspicious

Harryfan4 I hope it's not what I'm thinking it is after seeing Y/N's pictures from yesterday

*****

Meanwhile, you woke up with the worst headache of your life. Thankfully, there were medicines and water beside your bed cause your throat felt dry as a dessert.

You walked out of your room groaning at the amount of light filtering through. "Good morning, sleepyhead." You heard your son say laughing.

"Good morning, mum. We made pancakes!" Your daughter squealed and held up pancakes with both of her hands above her head. You laughed and kissed her cheek.

"It looks delicious, baby and good morning to everyone," you said with a smile, forgetting about your pain for quite some time until your daughter asked you when they would be going home.

"What you got bored of me so fast?!" Bran fake hurt while you stood their staring at her thinking when were you going and where were you going cause you could go anywhere you wanted other than your home.

You were in literal, psychological, and in every sense homeless.

"Let mum have her coffee Amie, you know how she's without it." Elliot joked, and Bran picked Amie up, taking her to the living room to keep her busy, and Em followed them.

You took a mug out of the cupboard to make coffee while Elliot sat there looking at you with pity.

"How did you find me yesterday?" You asked, wanting to change the look in his eyes.

"Oh some girl posted you on twitter" He said biting into his pancake while you made your coffee.

"Someone posted me?" You asked and groaned when he nodded, "My manager is going to kill me"

Great now, top of a cheating husband. You also had to deal with getting your crying pics off the internet and deal with an amgry manager.

You took out your phone out of your jeans, which were getting uncomfortable as time passed.

But nothing matched the uncomfortable and shattering hurt you felt when you saw the trending topic of twitter.

They were already parading out? It had hardly been a day, and he was already over you? Did he not think what will happen when tabloids will find it? which they already had found out making their own stories.

Did he not think what kids will think when they will see it? Em was 14 he knew everything and had a phone of his own. What were you supposed to tell him if he asked you? you didn't even know yourself what was going on.

Your head started pounding more than before, and you could feel the migrain coming in . Even though you knew you had to talk to him, you couldn't today in any shape or form.

Your sadness was slowly subsiding now, and as your headache grew, so did your anger, and you knew it was going to be shit show happening in front of everyone.

*****

Same day in evening-

Liked by Harryfan2, Harryfan5, Y/Nfan2 and 998,765 others

Duexmoi This fan favorite couple, an A list actress, and popstar are getting divorced according to an insider. Who do you think they are?

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Harryfan1 Harry and Y/N?

Y/Nfan2 Rumor has it one of them cheated

Y/Nfan4 Defo Harry remember the pictures

Harryfan2 Omg with her sister? that's fucked

Harryfan3 don't jump to any conclusion guys maybe it's someone else or maybe it's fake you know how these are.

Y/Nfan1 Fuck Harry and fuck Hayden

*****

Welll...tell me if you guys liked it pleaseeee i need to know!! here♡

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Taglist- @lilsiz @kaverichauhan @thechaoticjoy @samwilsonsgirl @lomlhstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515

2K notes · View notes

crownedtargaryen · 1 year

Note

ahhh yay!!

i would like to request something for modern!bran if that’s okay🙏🏻

i was thinking maybe modern!bran with goth reader?

like just headcanons or an imagine, whatever you’d like

you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to :)

lipstick. modern!bran headcanons

MASTERLIST pairing: modern!bran x goth!reader (a/n): I'm so sorry this is so short! Being goth has a lot of different types in that aesthetic, so I tried to generalize and keep it as unspecific as I could! (this Bran goes with this headcanon post I did of him) all notes are appreciated. tag list: @thethreeeyed-raven @howyouloveyourdragon @hopelesswritergall @fairysluna @clairacassidy @ad-astra-again @its-actually-minicika

SFW

• Bran loves you so much

• he ADORES when you sit on his lap and you do his makeup

• though, he's SUUUCH a pain to put makeup on

• he's always laughing and moving, trying to lean in and kiss you

• you have to yell at him, giving him a small smack as he cackles

• "what? can I not have a kiss?" he'll feign innocence that'll make you roll your eyes

• black cat and golden retriever

• he loves letting you dress him up in gothic themed clothing, so proud of any and all outfits you give him

• posts pics of you. over dressed gothic partner with the underdressed basic gamer

• he loves to bring you on his streams, the chat LOVVVES you

• he'll do "partner picks my aesthetic" streams with you, just adoring how excited you get in contrast to your darker more standoffish look

• def looks a bit strange seeing you side by side, but he doesn't care. ur his pfp on EVERYTHING and loves the way you present yourself

• def been called a discord mod with his kitten which has plagued your day to day life where he will jokingly call you kitten

• "that's a lot of talk for my discord kitten," he'll tease, knowing how frustrated it makes you.

does NOT shut up about how he wants to do beastboy x raven

ORR BATMAN X CAT WOMAN he’s OBSESSEDDD

def will call you emo for your aesthetic, laughs so hard when you’re get a bit angry with him

“hey! don’t be mad, maybe i like emos.” he’ll coo, just making you huff then kiss him to shut him up

def will let your paint his nails shades of black and grey, wears that shit with pride

LOVES it when you put on dark lipstick and kiss all over his face. he’s done that smudged lipstick tiktok so many times 👀

even though you’re the more intimidating outer shell of the relationship, bro will fight god for you

someone says shit about your aesthetic, calls you emo or says something harsh, he’s ON IT.

only he’s allowed to poke fun at his partner. someone says shit?

lets just say he’s almost killed a few people

forces you to teach him how to use a wax seal

he’ll nag you for hours, and you finally teach him and he’s over the moon

then one day, he’ll show up with a parchment letter that he’s tea stained for you. you honestly don’t believe it at first

bran didn’t SEEM like the type to do this, but gods he DID IT HE WROTE YOU A GOTHIC PARCHMENT LETTER QUILL AND INK AND EVERYTHING??!!

He LIVES to make you smile with gifts like that

constantly bugging you about what new clothes or shoes you want, what jewelry you may like, what antique gothic trinkets you think are beautiful

then within days they’re in ur hands and you just are like “oh.”

HE LOOOVES taking you to museums of antique medieval gothic resorts

he loves to hear you talk about them, grinning at your excitement and passions and how beautiful you look when you talk so much you run out of breath and have to sharply inhale before continuing

after taking you to the museum he’ll take you on a romantic moonlit picnic with only candles he brought and distant street lights illuminating you both

and he’ll softly go

“i love you…” pause. “even though you’re kind of emo.” then break into a cackle and beg you not to get up and leave

NSFW

• absolutely loves how your black makeup runs down your face when he tails the fuck out of you

• he loves the sight of your hair scattered across the bed as he pins you down, mascara running down your cheeks as you cry in pleasure

• he loves when you have dark lipstick on and kiss all over his body. gladly takes pictures of it and posts it on his private twitter

• usually after sex his face is covered in dark lipstick smudged over his swollen lips and flushed cheeks

• he loves ripping your dark thigh highs apart, immediately delving in your goods with the thin cloth RIPPED APART so easily.

• sometimes gets frustrated because of the layers to your outfits

• he's a switch, loves when you dom him and leave him a begging crying mess with lipstick marks on his thighs and hardened buds on his chest

will never ever stop joking about “you love dark things? let me make some dark ass marks on that pretty little neck.” while he growls and pulls you onto his lap with a cheeky grin

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thethreeeyed-raven · 1 year

Note

Can you make a bran Drabble when the jist is that he has a secret bf/gf :) tysm!!

bran with a secret s/o

navigation | warnings : SMUT (if ur uncomfortable with that just skip), caught in the act | a/n : listen, if he wanted to, he could, THE WAY I SAT GIGGLING TO MYSELF WRITING A CERTAIN ONE | tags : @knight-of-flowerss @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom | bran stark playlist

SFW

bran loves secretly holding your hand, especially when you go out somewhere with him and his family, ugh hand holding is a must

secret kisses🤭

buying you gifts then you having to pretend arya or sansa bought it for you and the awkward silence when they say they didn't

he has you over to watch movies and cuddle

he may beg his fam to go out and do something for the night just so he can do that ^^

he likes sneaking around with you

longing looks across the dinner table when you get invited to have dinner

OML KICKING EACH OTHER UNDER THE TABLE OR TEASING EACH OTHER

you both are sat giggling and everyone just has confused looks on their faces

you sneak into his room in the middle of the night when you have sleepovers just to cuddle with him and then you have to sneak back into whoever's room you were in first

late night talks

always checking up on you, making sure you've eaten etc

once sansa caught him doing this and started teasing him about it

his fam constantly talks about you around him just to see that little smile that appears on his face

NSFW

neck kisses

HICKEYS

imagine going home and you have a big massive hickey appearing on your neck all because bran cant help himself

THIS MAN LOVES HAIR PULLING

imagine ya'll are at it, he's devouring you down there and you're pulling his hair

the moans he has to stiffle😫

constantly telling him to be quiet

loves taking you up against the wall

always ensures your comfort before trying anything new

he loves marking you

if you consent to pics being taken he absolutely will

keeps them all in a secret folder and sometimes beats his meat to them💀 ^^

IM SORRY

bro is very very vocal

sometimes your movie sessions end up in steamy sex

literally does everything you tell him to no joke

bro is submissive af

he needs praise

like a lot of praise

HE NEEDS YOU TO TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM

he craves it

"tell me you're mine"

HE WHIMPERS

i just know he whimpers

and i just know its big

its hard for you guys to get at it because your relationship being a secret yk so when you do its definitely passionate and loving

bran does like it rough but not all the time

Grunts and whimpers could be heard throughout the room.

Bran's family had gone out for the day, but Bran pretended to be sick so he could have you over.

His shirt was thrown somewhere around the room and your bottoms where around your ankles.

As he rutted into you, you tugged on his scalp, earning quiet whimpers from him.

Your moans filled his ear drums, listening as you whispered sweet nothing's into his ear.

His family was supposed to be out for the day, but then just happened to get home early.

They all piled into the hallway.

"Stop." Catelyn said. "Can't you hear that?"

Sansa and Arya stiffled laughs as they all approached Bran's room. The noises got louder.

Catelyn opened the door.

"BRANDON!"

You both turned to look at each other in embarrassment.

"Fuck."

#game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones smut #bran stark imagine #bran stark #bran stark x reader #brandon stark #isaac hempstead wright x reader #isaac hempstead wright

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sasagehoes · 20 days

Text

THE NECROMANCER

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈 ;𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱;; The fruits of necromancy start taking roots inside of you, and your older sister's warnings didn't prepare you for the horrors that were to come.

masterlist | series masterlist

previous chapter ~ next chapter

CW; This series contains a LOT of sensitive topics. Just like the show, there will be individual warnings for each chapter, I'm not responsible for what you read.

graphic depictions of blood and gore/ canon typical violence / assault/ murder/lots of change in POV/ war/ assault and rape/ mentions of purity culture and virginity / arranged marriage/ typical game of thrones warnings.

3.6k words

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

As soon as the boat arrived with her on board, everyone went crazy. It wasn't that big of a deal, I was planning on rejecting the proposal,

why would I marry a complete stranger?

I knew they would make me go receive her and her family, so I hid until they left, I knew my mother would reprimand me, but as much as I could avoid her, the better.

I came down from my hiding spot to see my older sister, Sansa, standing there with her arms over her chest. I was clearly mad, I tried to run, but she caught up to me

"Don't you know just how in trouble you are right now," she said, pulling my ear slightly to not injure me, but enough that it would hurt

"Let me go!" I said."Stop whining! mom's gonna give you an earful"

As we entered the mess hall, i could see my mother standing with a displeased face, looking directly at me

"Why do you not want to see her, Bran?"

My mother said, annoyed. I just ignored her and looked to the side

"Answer me, Brandon," she repeated herself, this time mad.

"Why would I marry someone I've never met!" I snapped, now standing up

"You think she chose to get married, chose to be sent away from her family to come into this one?" She replied hastily looking into my eyes.

I stopped, and I never thought about her situation, I knew my sisters would have the same fate. Yet I still couldn't stomach the thought of being with a complete stranger for the rest of my life.

"...no, I'm sorry," I said, embarrassed, looking at my mother

"When she gets here, treat her nicely, you don't have to like her immediately.. you'll have time to learn how to love and cherish her."

With that, she left, leaving me there pondering on how my life would be with a stranger.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

The harsh cold wind was unfamiliar to me. My fingers felt like falling off. I couldn't imagine how it would feel once winter came.

The Lord of Winterfell, Eddard Stark, got off his horse and came up to us. He looked around, clearly expecting more people

"I thought Lord Caius would come to send you off, I guess I was mistaken," he said sincerely

at the mention of my father's name, my eyes went wide, coming out of my trance. My sister noticed and grabbed my hand firmly.

"My apologies, Lord Stark, some..commotion has started in our land, both our parents had to stay to re ensure the safety of our people."

He nodded, "No worries, I understand. You'll be taken care of here, until your leave." he said.

Robb, the oldest, helped to mount my stuff on the horses. I smiled at him, muttering a small 'thank you'

The man I've learned to address as Theon tried to start small talk once in the horses,

"Bravoos is a beautiful place from what my friends say," he started

"I suppose it does have its own flare,"

I say out of it, just mentions of Bravoos made my stomach churn.

not wanting to seem rude, i forced the conversation to continue

"Winterfell is even more beautiful than what I had imagined. You must feel proud of being born here, my Lord," I say, looking at him, his eyes drop for a second too long.

"I'd have to agree with you, my Lady, it is indeed a beautiful place, yet I'm not form here, I'm form the Iron Islands, a Greyjoy"

"Oh, well, it must've been hard getting used to the weather," I say, mustering up a dry chuckle. He nodded and was about to continue till Robb told him something, and he stayed by his side until we arrived.

It seemed my betrothed was nowhere to be seen.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

Once you arrived at Castle Ward, you couldn't believe your eyes..it was beautiful, a sense of comfort and warmth that radiated from it.

All of the remaining family that didn't go out to receive you and your sister were all lined up, two girls, two boys, and a woman.

As all of you approached them, you heard whispers in the crowd

'She's to marry the little lord?'

'Isn't she a doll'

'so beautiful'

'Bravoosi ey?'

you payed them no mind as you plastered a small smile on your lips and bowed to the family, waiting to be risen you looked up briefly, and the boy, who seemed your age was already looking at you, as soon as the two of your eyes met, they disconnected.

So that was to be your husband, your salvation.

"Rise child," Lady Catelyn said sweetly, and so you did. Looking at her in the eye, you smiled. "Pleasure to finally meet you, my Lady." you say.

"Likewise, you are more beautiful than what the books described... So glad you could make it safely,"

"This is Sansa and Arya, my only daughters, and I've seen you've met Robb, my first born already, we'll this is Rickon, the youngest and Bran, you're betrothed" she continued, pointing at each one of the children as she named them.

"Pleasure to meet you all, I hope we can get along." Your eyes met Bran's as you finished. He avoided them as soon as he saw you.

"I can't wait for us to be sisters," Sansa exclaimed in her place as she went up to you to pull your hand. "Would you like to see your room?" she asked hands, holding yours. You nodded, and she took off running with you in tow.

"Careful not to fall!" Catelyn yelled at the both of you.

Ophelia looked at Brandon and walked up to him.

"I trust you'll take care of her, My Lord?"

she said to him, a trail of worries behind her words.

"I promise, she won't be sad as long as she's with me" Brandon replied, with a smile looking up at her, she nodded and bowed slightly l, mouthing a small 'thank you'

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

The food was wonderful, the smell of wine was everywhere in the dining room, and people danced and sang, up until Lord Stark stood up and held his cup of wine and hit it with his spoon

"Today, we celebrate the soon to be union between House Stark and House Corvus!" he said loudly, everyone followed suit, cheering and clapping rather obnoxiously.

Your face was dull and expressionless, staring off into the abyss that were the walls. You couldn't escape it.

You heard her everywhere, like a taunting reminder that you got a better chance that she could've ever gotten, you hated yourself, even if it wasn't your fault.

a hand on your shoulder helped you out of the trance, Arya. If you remember,

"Want to spar outside? If you don't know.. I can teach you!"

You smiled genuinely for what felt like the first time in weeks and nodded, running off with Arya outside.

"Grab one!" she said to me, throwing me a wooden sword that was left on the floor. I caught it after it almost escaped my hold, Arya giggled, "Just you wait," I told her jokingly, making her get into a stance, a bad one, and so did I.

We sparred for almost an hour when their Septa walked out of the mess hall and froze in her steps

"Arya Stark!" she yelled in disbelief

"Oh no.." Arya sighed

"What do you think you're doing, young lady?" the septa said as she dragged Arya by the arm

"Im not a lady," Arya bickered

"Your father is a lord, making you. a lady, now get inside!" the old woman said, annoyed, clearly having dealt with this more times that she could count. Once Arya made it inside, and after she flashed you a smile, the septa came up to me

"My Lady, please don't humor her, I hope i won't have to deal with the both of you from now on," she voiced out as nicely as she could

"I promise i won't become a problem." My eyes squinted as I smiled at her.

Pleased with my answer, she bowed slighly and left.

'maybe this wouldn't be so bad' I thought as I gazed at my surroundings, the tall grey walls of the castle were mesmerizing, although the castle back home was more lively and more colourful, on the inside it was dull and bleak, now even more so, with everything currently going on.

"Lost on your thoughts again, little lady?" a man whom i've never met said to me almost invading my personal space."Please don't call me that sir, " I say, trying to sound as polite as possible.

He got closer. "Your father sent me," he said, and my eyes went wide, I opened my mouth to scream, but he covered it "Scream and you'll end up like Leiana, understood?" He asked, I nodded as tears escaped my eyes,

"Your brother ever told you what I did to the little whore?" He continued now moving to the stables, I couldn't breathe, "Answer me!" he screamed.

"NO, no he didn't please let me go, I won't say anything!" My words were rushed, I didn't want to end up like that, broken and destroyed.

He threw me down on the hay that adorned the floor of the empty stable, my cries were drowned by the music that played in the mess hall and the cheers.

"Oh, I'll let you go, just after im done with you," he said, standing up, undoing his belt.

As I tried to scream once more, trying to get anyone to listen to my cries, a sword pushed through the back of the man, blood falling on my skin.. I froze.

"Are you alright?! Did he touch you?!" The man with dark shoulder-length hair said, picking me up, the sword now thrown on the floor.

I hugged him tightly "Thankyou, thank you!" I sobbed trembling.

"What happened?!" I heard Ophelia yell from the doors of the mess hall, once she saw my sobbing figure and the man dead on the floor, she ran to me.

"Please tell me he didn't touch you," She said now on her knees in front of me, holding my face. Her voice was shaking, I shaked my head.

"He asked if Amadeus had told me what he did to Leiana." I tell her as much as my hiccups would let me. Her eyes went dark for a moment.

"Those bastards!" She yelled

The music had stopped, and people were coming outside, Lord Stark came out worried, and once he saw the scene, he hurried to ask what had taken place.

Once everyone calmed down and explained what had happened, I saw Brandon looking at me with worried eyes from afar. He came up to me and offered his coat and left, not knowing what to say. After that, everything was a blurry mess.

When I woke up, a sleeping Ophelia was at my side sitting on a chair. Feeling a shift in the bed, she woke up. "Are you alright, my dear?" She asked me worried, I nodded

"I'm leaving today sister..I can't delay my trip to house Reed" she spoke, my eyes went wide

"What if another one comes after me or worse you!" I exclaim

"I'll be protected by some guards, and so will you, Lord Stark was very understanding"

I sat up abruptly "You told him?!"

"No! Not the whole truth.. I have to be careful"

I relaxed, it wasn't safe for anyone to know as of now, anyone could betray us. Anyone.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

You hugged your sister tightly as she bid farewell to everyone, not knowing if this would be the last time you two would see each other

"We'll meet again" she said caressing your hair

"Once snow comes"

"Blood shall fall"

This would be the last time you heard of Ophelia..alive.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

The days went on rather banal, nothing new, taking sewing and embroidery lessons with Sansa and sneaking off to play with Arya in the courtyard once you got bored.

Everytime you went to talk to Brandon he was dry and cold, sometimes just flat out ignoring you.

you couldn't care less, most royal marriages were only for one thing - unions.

or that's what you told yourself.

One particular day, you noticed you were feeling rather drained, not having done many physical activities you felt worried,

Apparently someone noticed and left you a snack with a note that said 'rest, you look tired', with an apple next to it.

You asked around thinking it was either of the sisters but none knew what you were talking about so you just left it at that.

At around noon, you where playing with Arya on top of some tables, pretending to be knights, when a puncturing pain burst in your lower abdomen making you almost fall off. Arya, worried, dropped her stick and went to you thinking she had hurt you

"Are you okay??" she said panicking "Yes I'm alright just an old bruise I suppose"

you knew it wasn't a bruise, you knew what this pain entailed. You were petrified. this was only the begging.

your sister, Leiana, had explained what happened go the woman in the family once their first blood takes fruition, it's not only blood and pain, it the nightmares of death that plague you, and the smell of blood everywhere. it was too early you thought..way too early.

One morning you woke with the pain gone but a slick feeling in your thighs, you uncovered yourself and saw the crimson red stain that now adorned the bed sheets.

Although you wanted to think you were saved, Leiana also had gotten it, yet that didn't stop them. Nothing stops them

"You know what this entails right my dear" Lady Stark asked you, as you told her what was happening. you nodded slightly, she smiled.

"Don't worry, I know other houses make the girls marry as soon as there first blood occurs, but not here, neither of you are ready so don't fret, your still a child, I couldn't do that to you" she said empathicly. you just nodded and thanked her, and as she left you could only smell blood, it irked you, you felt disgusting.

Sansa was next to you at dinner talking about how wonderfull this was, you could have children now, give birth to little lords and ladies, which made Brandon's cheeks dust a light pink. You giggled, but there was a part of you that felt a nauseating feeling at the pit of your stomach.

If you had a girl would she deal with the same thing your sister did? Would she be chased down the streets and tainted by the men who swore to protect her?

No. you'd make sure she'll never go through that horrible, thing you'll make sure. Even if it's the last thing you do.

The following day you could barely walk, the pain was getting worse and Maester Luwin said ot was normal. saying it was because you had gotten it sooner than it should.

If only.

As you were walking with Sansa trying to withstand the cramping pain, talking about how you two would want both your futures to play out, the pain got worse, in an instant it felt like soemone took a blow to your lower stomach, making you bend over and groaning in pain. Sansa noticed and went to your aid, but before you could say anything everything went black.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

You opened your eyes and the bright light blinded you briefly, your head throbbed as the distant noise got closer.

You weren't quite sure where you were, but it wasn't Winterfell. It was red, everything, the snow was crimson red, the dew falling off the trees was red everything was red. You looked at yourself in the nearby bloodied river.

it wasn't you.

you felt around the face that was reflected on the river, it wasn't yours yet you could feel it, it was c aked in blood as well as the hair that came with it.

before panicking you remembered your sister's words;

"apart from the normal symptoms, you'll be ridden with nightmares for days might even be weeks"

You felt and indescribable hunger and as you saw the crimson snow it became appealing - appetizing even.

you took a handful of it and ate it, and then another, and another until your hunger was satiated.

everything went black for a while and when you awoke, you still weren't in Winterfell, but in the palace of Corvus. Castle Ravenna.

It wasn't you, you had to remind yourself before any panic would settle in your bones.

It all looked so different, The sigil on the banners was the old one, the walls were relatively new, even the throne looked more polished

this was clearly long before you had been born, who's body you were inhibiting, you didnt know, but it felt... different than in the snow earlier, the blood on your veins wamer, and faster.

"Amelia! are you listening?" the voice of a man said

Amelia? if the stories the women in blood told your sister were true, she was the first necromancer of house corvus.

"Yes dear?" you answered, the voice not your own.

"What have you been doing in the outskirts of the city, I've told you a hunded times. do not." he kept going

"The snow, i helped get rid of the red snow"

You didn't know how you knew what to say. You just did. It was automatic.

"We can't keep escaping from our marital duties.. we need to produce an heir"

Your stomach churned at the thought.

The blackout ensued again, yet this time you were in the garden, your hand was bleeding profusely, and a white rabbit squirmed on the floor, its head was detached.

You wouldn't move, couldn't, it felt as in a second your body was still and then you were looking through the rabbits eyes.

You've heard of wargs, yet they manipulated live animals.. not the dead.. as you snapped out of it, you gasped and quickly jid the beheaded rabbit in a bush, washing the wounded hand on the fountain.

The night you finally consummated your marriage with your husband, he was gentle, truly, he was, but we both longed for someone else. We didn't belong to the other, yet our destinies were written long before our conception.

Another black out. Gods, did you hate them by now.

You held your first born in your arms, a beautiful baby girl, eyes like the forest and caramel skin. She cooed at you and you smiled.

Her father seemed mad, only came in the room to corroborate the gender of the child and left.

Your nightmares showed the many children you or better said, Amelia, had through out the years. Five boy and five girls, only two made with love, the other out of necessity.

The last one was the most brutal of them all

Your body was now old and wrinkly as you could only stare in shock as the torture that was inflicted on your daughters was laughed at, and sang about, the remaining two sat on the table ridden in fear that they would wake up with a man in their chambers, putting the through hell, and you couldn't do anything.

Their daughters' daughters would go through this hell, and their daughters after that. Amelia couldn't bear it. You could feel it in her veins. She mustered any bit of energy left in her old bones and killed the man whom she had married all those years ago

The man who let men do whatever they pleased with your daughters for the sake of the kingdom. It was her last straw.

"You stand here accused of practicing the dark arts, and the worst crime..regicide, how do you plead?" The man asked loud for the whole city to hear

I stayed silent.

"Any last words then?" He asked

I looked up and said:

"My daughters will not be able to use their gifts, but be worry of the ones to come, one will be born so fierce, she'll fear no man, as no man will come to harm her, the loss of her sisters will only strengthen her, and the downfall of the tyrants of Bravoos will come"

The daughters cried as they were held by the perpetrators as your neck was sliced from ear to ear. Everything went black for the last time.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

When you finally woke up, it was in a cold sweat, pawing at your neck with one hand. You looked hastily at your surroundings and saw a sleeping Bran at your bedside, a hand holding yours. Your heartbeat slowed a little, and you smiled

"Brandon, wake up," you say softly, shaking him

He woke up slowly, eyes groggy, but when he laid his eyes on your figure, his eye widened, and he jumped to hug you. "I thought you wouldn't wake up," he said distraught

You hugged him back and said, "Didn't know you missed me," grinning.

He glared at you playfully "Maybe..maybe not, are you okay? you were gone for days, mumbling things in your sleep.. you had me worried, " he said the blush in his cheeks eminent.

You couldn't stop the giggles that exited your mouth. After being cold and distant for so long, who could've thought he would be so concerned for your well being.

"Don't laugh." he added as he tried to storm out the room, but your hand pulling his stopped him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude," you say in between laughs. He furrowed his brows and quickly kissed your cheek, making you shut up. your brain malfunctioned, and you just stared at him, eyes wide and cheeks red.

Before you could say anything, he bolted out the door, yelling, "She woke up!"

And you just stared at the door in disbelief.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ Thank you so much for getting this far, can't wait to continue this series!! If you'd like to be added to the taglist,let me know ♥︎

(っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡

taglist: @etyaty @tcapter

DO NOT;; RE-UPLOAD, TRANSLATE NOR COPY MY WORKS!!

This belongs to;;

-SASAGEHOES

9 notes · View notes

axelsagewrites · 1 year

Text

Robb Stark*Marriage Night

Pairing: Robb Stark x F!Reader

Summary: after your arranged marriage ceremony you and your new husband finally have alone time for the first time.

TW: innuendos ig but not smut (yet?)

Word count: 1439

Masterlist Here

Of course, you had thought Robb was handsome. Plus, from what everyone had told you the Stark boy was nothing but honest and kind. He had done everything correctly leading up to your wedding. Still, you couldn't help the small pit in your stomach as you stood in the godswood with a Maester binding your hands.

It was hardly uncommon from families such as yours and Robb Starks to set up arranged marriages but for some reason you thought you would at least get to have a conversation alone with the boy before the day. It had to be done though. For the good of your house. You prayed that he was as kind as people had said as he swore his vows. Soon people were clapping and the boy you had not been allowed alone with an hour ago was giving you a swift kiss before turning to your families.

Despite sitting besides, each other at the feast you barely spoke. You both tried but all you knew about each other was what people had told you. She's pretty. He's handsome. She likes music. He's good with a sword. It wasn't much to go off.

At least in the hall you could distract yourself with your friends and he with his. But then it was time to go to your chambers and leave them all behind. The Starks were very firmly against a bedding ceremony which you thanked the gods for, but your ladies still led you to your chambers and undressed you down to your nightdress to wait for him in these unfamiliar chambers.

They had obviously brought a few feminine touches in for you such as a table with perfumes and ointments and hairbrushes and combs. Courtesy of Lady Stark you assumed. She had been so kind this whole time. As you waited for Robb to arrive you figured this was your bed as much as his now and sat down as your ladies tried to give you tips that made your head swim.

A knock came from the door and soon Robb Stark entered, and your ladies quickly curtsied and left. Robb closed the door behind them however hovered a moment before turning to you.

Robb began to shed some of his own layers before sitting opposite you on the bed in his undershirt and trousers. The silence was beginning to become too much and finally you decided to break it.

"So," you said as you began to pick at your dress. It was only one word, but it was something.

"So," he copied, "did you enjoy the day my wife,"

It felt weird to hear the words slip of his tongue, but you nodded "Our mothers planned a beautiful day," Robb nodded but you decided for the sake of your sanity you had to force yourself to speak before the silence drove you into madness "I only wish we had got to speak privately before the ceremony."

Robb gave a sheepish smile "I did ask my mother, but she told me it was better not too."

"So did mine," you confessed "So if not for this wedding what would you be doing today?"

"Well, I would have been practising my sword technique with Jon. Maybe teaching Bran a thing or two. Then it would be a family dinner then bed I suppose. I'm sorry I'm not more interesting" Robb confessed, and you couldn't help but smile.

"More interesting than me,"

This time Robb smiled and finally began to meet your gaze "What would you be doing right now if I was not here?"

"Now? Well, I'd be getting ready for bed most likely," you laughed and he blushed "Me and my friend would take turn brushing each other’s hair while either reading each other a book or talking about our days. I'm going to miss doing it if I'm honest,"

"Why will you have to miss it?"

"She has her own wedding to attend in a month's time, so she'll be returning home to prepare. I'm not even sure when I'll see her again" as you spoke you felt the truth of the words sinking in. This was your new life in Winterfell. Alone. With a husband you don’t even know.

A silence fell back over the room as you contemplated your new reality. Robb cleared his throat and your head snapped up from your thought, "I could do it for you,"

"Do what?"

Again his cheeks began to flush as he tried to clarify "Brush your hair. I can’t replace your friends but I could brush it for you if you like. Only if you want me to of course,” he said.

A smile grazed the corner of your lips, “That’d be nice. If you want too of course,”

“I don’t mind,” Robb said returning your smile. He got up and walked to the vanity his mother had prepared for you. His hands hovered over the brushes trying to find which one was right, “This one?” he finally held up shockingly the right one and you nodded. Robb walked back over to the bed and asked “So how do you usually…?” he trailed off.

You began to shuffle down the bed so Robb could sit behind you, “Well usually we would take turns. She would sit behind me and brush mine then we would switch,”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about taking turns anymore,” he laughed as he settled in behind you. Finally, you felt at ease enough to slouch and sit comfortably, “But if you ever wanted someone’s hair to brush im sure my sister would be delighted,” he said as he gently began to pull your hair from over your shoulders behind your back.

“Im assuming you don’t mean Arya,” you chuckled.

“No defiantly not her. Sansa loves you. All she’s spoke about is this wedding,” Robb began to brush your hair as he spoke, gently running it through your hair which luckily had not tangled too much from the wedding.

As he began to brush the conversation began to flow. He started off telling you all about his sisters then his brothers and the rest of his family before asking about yours. After family the talks began to shift to other friends and other stories.

“If I wasn’t such a gentlemen I’d tell you about the time me, Theon, and Jon pranked Maester Lewin in the godswood,” Robb laughed.

“No fair,” His laugh was infection and spread to you, “I told you about what me and Jane did to our septa. Now it’s my turn to hear your juicy stories. I am your wife after all,”

“And am I not supposed to be a gentleman to my wife?” he countered.

“In some ways yes. And in others no,”

“When am I not supposed to be a gentleman?”

“Well I can think of one place but its not very ladylike to discuss what happens in a couples chambers,” you said and Robb laughed without blush, “And when it comes to secrets I want none. No matter how ungentlemanlike they are. I don’t want to be a fool in my marriage,”

“I will never treat you like a fool,” Robb put the brush down and you turned to face him, “That I promise you,”

“So tell me your secrets,” you said with a sly smile as you leaned in.

“Any secret?” Robb leaned in to match.

“Start with the most recent one,”

“I don’t know if I kept it a very good secret,” he chuckled, “but I would very much like to kiss you right now,”

“I am your wife after all. We’ve already kissed before,” you said as you watched his eyes dart to your lips.

“I don’t want to kiss you like that,” he whispered.

“Why don’t you show me how you would like to kiss me then husband,” you whispered back and Robb finally closed the gap. His lips finally collided with yours. They were soft but his kiss was strong. His hand raised to cup your cheek and you found yours beginning to tangle with his hair. His free hand suddenly pulled you closer by your waist till you were pressed up against him but he kept his hand on your waist, holding you firmly.

Your lungs screamed for air, but you ignored them as long as you could till you had to pull back for air. Robb’s lips followed yours, trying to capture them again but you held him back by his air as you tried to steady your breath, “We should do that more often,”

“That we should dear wife,”

#robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark fluff #game of thrones fluff #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #got #got imagine #robb got #robb stark x reader

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rise-my-angel · 7 months

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Heart of the Great Wolf

24 - Ghostly Dreams of Old

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon Reader (Past)

Length: 13.8k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, discussions of warfare, strained parental dynamics, insecurity and trauma, mild smut, oral sexual descriptions (m and f receiving)

Notes: I'm gonna end up having to add a certain kink in the warnings one of these, aren't I? Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

He hadn’t expected anyone to find him in there, though he supposed that considering who it was which came slowly walking in through the door, it only made sense. You weren’t the only one struggling with being here, the only one struggling to find any kind of harmony now that you were allowed to exist as a real human with their own autonomy in this castle. Theon had spent too much time in this castle as a man he couldn’t recognize.

The door creaked open, and you had walked in slowly, quietly. Your hands gently wrung almost in a slight nerve as if not wanting to disturb the quiet. You knew why he was in Bran’s room, and despite nothing but time being what could help him come to terms with what he had done, you knew doing it alone would be of no use. You said nothing yet, and neither did he.

Just turned to look at you with a painted sorrow and regret in his eyes that rarely he let any see unless it was alone with the other. You looked at him almost upset and uncomfortable that afternoon, having to come to you and tell you the boy wanted to speak to you and almost without realizing he had gone back to calling you, “Your Grace.” But it was different now, very different.

Theon wasn’t stupid. He could see that losing Jon had hurt something deep in you he didn’t expect, and then standing in your father’s quarters as Tormund spoke to you, a soft joke on his lips about how much Jon loved you was sickening. He didn’t quite get it then, but he got it quickly once he came back, or at least from what he could sense on one person.

Something was going on between you two, and Theon could tell that Jon did not care to hide it.

He let his heart sit right on his face in how he looked at you and that day in the courtyard? As the North all chanted King in the North, all the man could do was almost spin tight in his arms, that was the embrace of a man who was desperately in love with you.

But still, you now stood beside Jon as you did Robb. Standing beside Jon, as you thought once you would be here in this home, in these halls, ruling by your King’s side but it was the child which Catelyn Stark would hate you for being with. If she could, she’d look down on you for not just running to his brother, but his bastard brother. Would call your love for Robb into question as if you didn’t spend an entire year being tortured by the Boltons as much as you tortured yourself for not dying at Robb’s side like you promised.

Catelyn would look down on you for whatever this was with Jon, and he hated that you blamed yourself for it. Just as he knew, you could tell Theon still blamed himself for Bran and Rickon, when more forces then him had taken them away by now. Much time had passed, you both quietly looking to the other before you wasted no more seconds and walked up.

Gently sitting next to him where he sat, you facing the closed window waiting for Theon to be ready to talk. Waiting for him to turn away from where Bran used to lay and find a voice. You were patient, it wouldn’t feel better forcing it out. “You know, it’d be nice. To have one day where you and I wake up and we’re not constantly walking around here thinking about our failures.”

You hummed, nodding mindlessly as you both still had yet to look at the other. Finding a small voice of your own it was at the least tinted in some lighter amusement. “I can almost imagine what it looked like. You storming into this room trying to tell Bran what you’d done.” Theon finally turned his head enough to look at you, sitting more to the side like you were as you elaborated. “All worked up prancing around the room calling yourself a Prince.”

The smallest hint of a smirk came into his features, “Sorry is that funny to you?” One shoulder of yours shrugged as he huffed out a breathe. “Braver then I ever was. Sat there as I woke him up telling him I betrayed his family and took his home, and he refused to give up with all the boldness those Starks have.” Nodding behind him slightly, “Had to sit down on the bed like I was lecturing him just to get the message through, that I was going to make him surrender. No wonder the men had no respect for me, couldn’t even get it from an eleven year old.”

Both taking a moment to laugh, your uninjured hand trailed over the fingertips of your wrapped scar and down to your palms as they sat in your lap. Glancing back at him finally, you could see both the guilt but also a calmness over it, one he knew he could only speak of which just like this.

“You think they’re telling the truth? About Aegon?” You shrugged properly that time, it was impossible to tell and even more impossible to find out the truth on your own. All you had was their word but it was hard to imagine it stemmed from a complete lie.

Leaning forward, your hands clasped as they rested over your knees. “They said Aegon’s face was so smashed and bloody, not even Lord Tywin could recognize it. If they switched him out, it might be possible. What that was supposed to accomplish though, I’m not sure. Why sneak out one child and not both, considering they also got out Aerys’s youngest before my father got there.”

Shaking his head, he echoed words you had been thinking this whole time. “Don’t know why any of them would think the North would kneel for them, after what they did.”

Three Starks in one war was the previous rebellion’s cost. So far, it was looking the same. Four dead, one so far North none knew where to find him or why he was there, and two none with any clue anymore of where they were or if they were alive. “In my experience, most of those going for the Iron Throne don’t care about the North.”

“Got a good track record though. Never lost a battle yet.” Your eyes met and unspoken words sat bright across both of your eyes for the other to see in full. “Least this time I’ve learned my lesson, about trusting my own people for help.”

“The North are your people. Whether they realize it yet or not. We’ve all done bad things at this point, we’re all as guilty as you for something.” You both were quiet before you spoke softer, “You should go see him. Both of them, before we leave. Say sorry for being such an ass when you stormed the castle.”

Teasing between you both was a bit easier. The dynamic would never be what it used to be, but neither of you thought it would be better if it was. Something between you and Theon now bonded you in a way that you wouldn’t know what to do without him, and he felt the same. Teasing used to be mostly a game between you both but now it almost was the only thing either had left to cope with what you’ve done, what you’ve been through. Slowly work your way through the years of sin and maybe if you joke about enough of it you’ll forgive yourselves.

Theon nodded, keeping quiet for a moment before his tone turned light once more to match. “You’re sure we can’t just sail to the cliffs and climb up ourselves. I mean, if I could trudge through a moat to climb two walls, how hard can it be there?”

You could’ve laughed, but it was no ones fault. Dragonstone was not seen nor visited by many and unless your eyes saw it’s scale for yourself, it was impossible to know why that was not a good or viable option. “Tell you what, Greyjoy. When we’re on the island, you and I will go down to the sea, and we’ll find out how long it takes us to climb up and over. Before we both fall and die from exhaustion.”

Theon leaned forward to match your position, arms outstretched against his legs. “You know what, I change my mind.” You turned with a bemused question on your face as he raised an eyebrow tilting his head at you with a knowing expression. “If Jon saw me putting you in that kind of danger for fun, even if I fell and snapped my neck I’m fairly sure he’d bring me back to life just to kill me again himself.” That got you both to laugh at least. Theon once more turning a bit quieter, “Can I ask, what exactly is going on between you two?”

Sighing out, you bit your tongue trying to find the right words but once more you could feel that same stare that it seemed like all were giving you over it, not truly realizing none of then were. Your hands wrung together, brows narrowing as you struggled to come up with it. You had never spoken of it to anyone with any real substantial amount of truth until your mother. She knew with more detail then any you’d told but you had no idea what to say outside of such an outburst you had.

Dropping your head you felt the sting behind your eyes flow stronger. Trying to grab your attention better by softly calling your name but you shook your head. Was it the guilt of doing anything willingly after Robb or the hammering hatred that was branded into by the monster which came after him, with poison words and a deadlier touch. Or perhaps, was it the thought of how would it look to all others?

Catelyn would hate you, you knew that, but who else would? Would Arya look at you and think you had jumped from one to the other as if they were interchangeable? How much should one know if you say anything to anyone else? Then as you actually opened your mouth to speak, that insecurity bled through in an instant. “The day we met with Ramsay, he had said something. I know he was trying to rile me up, rile Jon up into getting angry when he said it. That I had just went from one man’s bed to the next..but the truth is he wasn’t wrong.”

Theon narrowed his eyes, a doubt in your intention of words. “Ramsay was only-”

Your voice was short, stern. Cutting him off with a spitting hatred only for yourself. “He was right, Theon. I just went from one to another. Jon and Robb, then Robb to Ramsay and now I’m back with Jon. Maybe I am just fucking my way through the North.”

Taken back clearly, Theon felt a tinge of confused. “What do you mean back with Jon?”

Your head hung, shame filling as the need to repent came forth. All this time away from the faith and still the call to wash away your sins returned in your lowest of moments. “We never- it didn’t get that far..but we..Jon and I had been together before I was to marry Robb.” You didn’t dare look at him, suddenly it was not a man you’ve come far to deeply trust but the fear that if you did look? You’d see the judgment as you were always scared any would look to you with.

Like they doubted what you felt for Robb was ever real, when the sheer idea of anyone thinking that was enough to make that weight in your throat sink and slam you into the earth.

“He- my maidenhood was still intact when..it never went to that point..but we still..then I married Robb, Jon was going to the wall, and we thought that was the end of it. I never said anything because I knew how it would look. Everyone would assume it wasn’t real, what I had with Robb and..then I lost him and..” Your voice finally cracked, and the sting turned to a push and out the tears shed down your cheeks without being stopped. “Willing or not, Ramsay still..took me in such a manner, then I ran from that and now I’m worried that everyone will hate me for it. Hate me for only being here to warm one man’s bed to the next.”

The next thing out of his mouth, you didn’t expect. “You’re an idiot.” You turned, eyes red and tears still there but there was not the judgment in his eyes. Just a soft understanding you didn’t know how to handle. “Everyone who laid eyes on you two knows you loved Robb. You try to keep a lot to yourself, but there wasn’t a second that anyone could think you didn’t both love each other with all your heart.” You wiped at the tears, but it didn’t help much. “And you didn’t betray him with Ramsay. You were a prisoner, he forced it all on you, Robb would’ve never blamed you for that. And he wouldn’t blame you for Jon.”

Truthfully, you weren’t so sure of that anymore. Turning away from him again, it was lucky you had gloves otherwise your nails would be digging into your skin by that point. “You two fought together to get this place back, you’re standing together to figure out how to fight against whatever’s coming from beyond the wall, you’re standing by him as your King. Oh and you both came back from the dead, if you forgot. I think that if you die, come back, and then also bring another man back to life that entitles you to be allowed to fuck him.”

You were red beyond red at how casually that just came out of his mouth. Your eyes wide as you stammered in place. “We- it was, we're not-”

Theon called your name though, and in the racing nerves in your blood you managed to turn to look at him trying to breathe calmly. “Whether you are or aren’t, no one here cares. The Northerners don’t, I don’t, free folk sure as hell don’t. The only person who thinks you were some whore had his head chopped off the other day. So his opinion no longer counts.” Leaning closer, there was a low tone that sounded as close to assurance as he could get. “If no one objects to you fucking him, you’ll be damn certain no one’s going to object to you two loving each other. Let other people make you happy for once, Baratheon. Because you’re shit at it on your own.”

The quiet between you was there for a long time, trying to find agreement and you couldn’t tell what was your own insecurity which was making you feel those things and what was the suffocating influence still trailed from Ramsay Bolton.

“Didn’t we come up here to talk about Bran?”

Shrugging, Theon held a small smirk. “Not my fault you’re disgustingly lovesick for Kings in the North. I came up here to think before you and I head out. Depending on how serious this Aegon is, might be my last chance for a while.”

You nodded, finally feeling your cheeks dry properly. “Go see them before then. No matter what you had done, you were still family to them. They’ll want to see you.” Standing abruptly, you smoothed out the skirt of your dress as if to occupy yourself in any small way before walking back out to the world. “And Theon?” Turning back to look at him, a softer, more sorrowful expression formed on your face just a bit. “Don’t blame yourself too much either. We can’t go back, we can only do better. Both of us.”

There were so many times returning to Winterfell was all you could look forward too, but now the last four times you had done so were only dread. The uncertain mystery after Lord Arryn’s death, escaping King’s Landing knowing you were returning to Robb for war, being dragged back in the violence and blood of a never ending nightmare and now. Returning to a place you struggled to find home in now that you were allowed to call it as such again.

“You’ve been at that all day.”

Your eyebrows barley raised in acknowledgement as well as a thick hum in your throat. Your mind carefully focused on the details outlying in the paper in front of you. You could feel his warmth before you saw him. Leaning down against the table with his palms flat leaning just over your shoulder enough he casted a shadow. Turning up suddenly with narrowed eyes, Jon only had a fond smirk on his face.

Leaning back enough, in the emptiness of the room there came the gentle comfort of his hand running along the strands of hair lose against your back before sliding down your spine. Stopping in the middle and hadn’t moved away from that spot. His voice was comforting in sound, “You can put in as much detail as you want, but the are never going to memorize it as much as you have.”

Sighing out, you paused your hands before gently returning to the drawing. Your own tone a little far away, “I just need to be sure. It’s a complicated place, I don’t want to leave anything up to chance.”

The outlines of Dragonstone was not easy. A map only in broad terms of what was where and you had now been tracing along it to guide the paths needed to take both sides of the castle, and how rough the terrain to overcome would be. Mountains and ragged cliffs, drop offs and water spilling down the sides it would be difficult for any unfamiliar with the land.

Jon watched as you finished the section you had been working on, waiting until your movements slowed to finally interrupt. Leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head before speaking lower in your ear. “Fighting up to the castle will be easy. It’s getting our feet on land that’s the problem.”

Standing up a bit straighter you sighed out. Still running your eyes all over the contents. “I- we’re not just fighting for land, or for a home. We can’t get this right, then we don’t have another option to protect the people we already have here.” You looked up to him, eyes wide glossed with a worry that you felt in your throat as well.

Jon nodded, the assurance in his was genuine but not overwhelmingly hopeful. Which truthfully is what you needed, not to be told this would be a breeze. Lowering his head enough to meet your eye level, “Obsessing over it won’t make a fight any easier. I won’t have you losing sleep over this, you’re doing enough as it is.”

Watching the other for a moment before you nodded. The hand on your spine making a jump to run over your hair and down to your cheek. Thumb running across your bottom lip as the grey in Jon’s eyes seemed to paint darker and darker the more you looked into them. Your own hand reaching up to run yours across his pulse on the wrist close to you. A once dead heart with a pulse running strong and steady.

Your mind finding the right words for it, lucky that he could sense something trying to come out as he stood patiently to wait. Your eyes flickering down in a tinge of guilt though, was not the emotion you preferred to make itself known. “Feels like it never stops. The entire time I was with Robb, we were always going somewhere, fighting someone, planning something else. The only time we ever had was while we were at war. And now it feels like it’s happening all over again with you.”

Turning to lean against the table, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you follow suit. Noticing he seemed to have stepped a bit closer to press his side up against yours. “War was when he needed you the most.” Looking to him at the side, Jon’s jaw was more clenched then before, the hands in his arms tensing a bit around the knuckle as something rougher was fighting through him. “It’s not the life you thought you’d share with him, but I know there was nowhere but at his side he’d rather you have been. Could handle it as long as you were.”

Your voice was mostly just a whisper, a tugging at your heart of blue eyes and a reddish brown head of curls that no matter what always found ways to charm you off your feet. “And how do you know that?”

Jon’s was also a whisper, but much more sure and confident even through the rasping strain. “I spent everyday growing up trying to figure out what kind of life I could have with you. What I’d do to convince my father, where we could go that it didn’t matter, worrying you’d come to your senses and realize being with a bastard wasn't good enough for you.” He didn’t meet your eyes, and it was only a distant pain in his face which spoke of something long gone but still rippled in hurt.

His name coming softly from your lips, you leaned a bit more into his side, Jon leaning back without committing fully. “I wasn’t ashamed of being with a bastard, I was afraid of how much you’d get intro trouble if we were caught, because of who I was.”

Shaking his head slightly, almost having a talk with himself in the inside you were not privy to. “When I started thinking about joining the Night’s Watch, part of me wondered if I should just keep going past the Wall and bring you far North with me instead. I’d build you a home, and a nice big hearth to keep you warm, because it didn’t matter where we were or what was happening. I just wanted to be with you.”

You almost felt a need to cry, things were so much easier back then. “Is that where you came up with eight children?” Jon chuckled deep in his chest and the comforting sound and look of a small smile on his lips was enough to pull a gentle, breathier laugh from you.

“It was still five back then. Now it’s probably closer to nine.” You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh more or find a sickening warm pooling of phantom blood spilling from the jagged scars in your stomach. You might not even be able to give him one, you might have only had chance and you ruined it after all.

But he continued, “My point is, it doesn’t matter if we’re still at war five, ten years from now. As long as I have you, then I’m happy.” This time, he looked at you while your eyes found themselves trained intently on the floor. You wished you could see any putting up with you for that long anymore.

Inhaling deeply, you found more strength in your vocal cords finally. “So we take it one step at a time. We fight this one before we start worrying about the next.”

Jon still watched you closely, “Exactly.”

Biting your lip, you almost felt the need to cover any and every doubt inside your mind as you looked over to him with a lightness in your eyes that was only put them seconds earlier. “Could still go North when winter is over. If this being King thing doesn’t work out.”

Smirking with a huff of a laugh, Jon shook his head almost incredulously. “We have a nice big fire, and a warm bed in our room already. Can’t build you a nicer home then that.”

He looked to a shine in your eyes, and you knew he had seen the surprise in which he wasted no moment in calling it our room. When for all this time, you had still seen it as his. But Jon saw it as yours, both of yours. Neither you nor him looked away. “Well, this is the home we fought for together I suppose.”

Had the doors to the study not opened, Jon would’ve moved in a heartbeat to lift you up onto this very table. Kneel down in front of you, and show you just how good he wanted to make you feel in the home you reclaimed together. Ever since you took him into your mouth the other morning, all he could think of was how much he wanted more and more of you at every chance.

Jon was feeling a deep, almost frustrating desperation and he hated barley being able to control his want.

Gathered all around going through the fine details, plans made through and through again ensuring all details on the lands covered. “It’s the only place they can stay that high with their sights on the water, but it cuts them off from the view of the hills leading to the castle approaching. That’s where they’ll keep him.”

You and Ser Davos both stood beside one another, leaning over the plans you spent much time drawing up and he readily backed up the fact that it was not going to be an easy feat sneaking around that long of a go to sail up unseen from the fishing port. You could land, but without anything to distract their eyes would find yours sneaking up. Archers could pick you off from afar behind then they could reach in the lands outstretched up the hills to the main land.

Smalljon Umber narrowed his eyes in thought, voice slow as he pieced it together. “Why hide him up from the fighting if he’s their King?”

Eyes sharp as he looked over everything, Jon turned to look at him. “If he is Rhaegar’s son, they’ve been hiding him all these years. They can’t afford to put in him a battle and lose him before he’s gotten to the Iron Throne yet” His hand gesturing to the very spot on the outlines, “If that’s the castle's best vantage point, then that’s where he’ll be.”

Jon clearly thought about it for a good while as he considered the plans moving through his mind. “We don’t even need to beat them.” All heads flying up to look at him with confused eyes, except for your watchful ones still on the plans below. “If I can get someone up to Aegon, they’ll surrender just to keep him safe. I’m not looking for a fight, but if they’re going to force us too, then we only fight as long as it takes to get someone there.”

Theon nodded, looking at him with a determination. “We attack the Golden Company from the East so they don’t catch the rest of us sneaking up behind them from the West.” Both men nodded at the other with a knowing look, Theon’s own glossing over with a hint of impress.

“I won’t trap us by relying on Stannis’s army to make this work, so we need to split our men into two. I’ll lead the bulk of us up the path to the castle, keep them occupied fighting us while a smaller group will have to get up the cliff’s the hard way. But we’ll keep their eyes off them.” It was a risk sending a smaller group that route, but it also was the only way to make it work. As long as Aegon was out of the fight, that side of the castle would be clear to sneak in.

Smalljon once more spoke up, asking the burning question. “Who’s going to lead the small charge to sneak in?”

If there was an answer on Jon’s mind, you spoke before he had a chance to get it out. “I will.” His grey eyes snapping sharply to you, but the others with a watchful trust that you looked only at them back too. “I’ll only need a few men. Enough to climb the walls, and sneak past whoever we find stationed at the top. I know this castle better then anyone, I know exactly where to go and how to get their the fastest.”

Davos met your eyes with a brighter agreement. “Going through Aegon’s garden will be your best bet. Easy to get turned around if you don’t know where you’re going. And from there you can either sneak in through the main hall on the inside or around the long way to the tower entrance at the bottom.”

Your eyes followed along the path as he spoke, knowing the path up the tower was the best bet. They wouldn’t see you coming until you were too close, whereas the main hall was too close to the main doors and if the battle reached their before you, it would draw attention. “So we plan for both. If it’s only us, we go the outside route and if my father joins us we can get inside.”

“He can sneak up from behind.” The others had a question in their eyes that while you missed, luckily Davos was there to provide explanation. Running his hand along the path from the back of the outlines and up. “There’s enough room to sail Northwest and not be spotted by any of his ships. Stannis can sail right past them and land at this port, and by the time they come up behind, you can open the back gates to let them through.” Nodding to you, “You’ll be ready to knock at their door and stop before they even realize how many are there.”

Maege Mormont had a question of doubt as she looked to Davos. “We sure the villages won’t send word the second he lands?”

He shook his head no, but you were the one who spoke. Eyes still along the outlines as you could see the motions in your head playing out. “There’s not many who live on Dragonstone. Two thousand at best, probably less at this point. Mostly small villages and a few fishing ports, none of them have any reason to want Aegon and the Golden Company there.” Tilting your head slightly to the side with a reluctant casualness. “That, and the Targaryeans never gave much thought to them. My father’s not the most charismatic of the family but his own men are loyal. They believe in him and a good couple hundred of them come from these people. They’ll help him sneak quietly before they’d turn him in.”

Jon had been watching you carefully, closely. He could see the plans in your mind just as vividly as you were conjuring them. Were it up to him, he’d keep you on the ship until the fighting was over but he also knew that it was the dreams of you dying in a pool of your own blood which fuelled such a fear of you anywhere near so much of it again.

The deep rumbling from Tormund sat in agreement with you. “I’ve climbed the wall more times then I can count. Me and a few others will join you, get you up to this King in no time.”

Agreeing, Theon who stood on the other side of you, swallowed heavily before taking a plunge that had you raising your gaze more soft and proud as he spoke. “So will I. Climbed over both these walls and through the moat to get into Winterfell the first time, should be able to do it again.”

But it wasn’t mistrust in those watching. It seemed, the trust which already existed between both of you was finding it’s way onto the Northerners who once knew it was his head to be taken for those very actions. A simmer flowed between each of you until it landed on the squinting, almost glare of Jon as he looked at you. Rising in heat until it sweltered too much bear as Jon nodded. Directing attention to the rest of them.

“Make sure your men all know, we’re only fighting until they surrender. I’m not going there to kill this King, or stop their own plans. I need Dragonglass and we only fight as long as it takes to get to it.” All nodded in understanding as he looked back to the plans. “Now we just have to find a way to breach their ships blocking the way.”

“Leave it to me.” Once more eyes found yours as you didn’t others. “I’ll see what we’re working with when I get to White Harbour. See what Manderly’s ships can handle, and if my father cooperates then he knows as well as I what it’ll take.”

Jon’s tone notably, was a bit softer when he directed his focus to you. “If we can get our feet on the ground, our odds are promising. Getting to the beach is the important part.” Your head absently nodded in agreement but it wasn’t formulated enough to speak aloud the plans in your mind.

You would present them when you had something fully formed swimming up there. Voice far away as well, “I get us ashore, you have the rest.” Finally meeting his eyes, he was hesitant but didn’t voice whatever the doubt in the more deep grey’s were speaking of you. Whatever he wanted them to say, he would wait until there were none left.

“That’ll be all for tonight.” Plans made clear and more talk of how and where to go were put into proper place until it was late enough for Jon to dismiss the meeting. Watching for all to leave you two alone, your palms now braced on either side of the table, leaning forward as you continued to keep all focus on the movement’s making in your mind.

Closing the door himself, Jon walked back to lean across somewhat on the other side mumbling your name. Looking up with ease this time, he wore the nerves much clearer on his wide, bright eyes. “You sure you want to be the one to lead them up there?”

Your eyes flickered to the side in squinting thought before returning to meet with no conflict that he felt over it. “You said it yourself, no one will be able to memorize this place as much as I know it by heart. I know where to go and where not too. It’s the best option.”

Sighing, he leaned his palms across the wooden surface, trying to find your gaze with more understanding of what he was struggling to say. “It’s also the one option where I can’t protect you if something goes wrong.”

A lurch in your heart, wanting to reach out and grasp him but you only mimicked his posture. Voice quiet and tender as you looked him over. “I’m fairly certain it would be hard to protect me if I’m in the thickest part of the fighting.”

Jon sighed out, eyes closing and opening back as he steadied his intentions in sturdy of voice. “You would stay on the ship if I had it my way.” He was trying not to glance down at where he knew your scar was.

Your head dropped into your hands for a moment sighing out not in frustration at him, but for causing him this kind of worry in the first place. Rising up again you had more of a pointed glare then perhaps you initially intended towards him. “So you can die fighting for me, but I can’t for you?”

“No.”

Your head jolted back just the slightest at how easily the answer slipped from his mouth, and with how sure of himself he said it. “May I ask why not?”

One gloved hand reached forward, cupping your cheek as you instinctively moved to hold the back of it and run your thumb down across his wrist. His voice rasping out in close to an upset of sorts, “Because I already spent a year thinking you were dead, and only got angrier at how much I hated living without you.” His thumb ran across the skin of your cheek in his own touch. “I can’t go through that again.”

Your thumb pressed against his pulse, still strong. Whispering so low were he not only a foot from your face he may not have heard it. “And I don’t want to do this, any of this without you.” Your other hand desperate to find his touch but the angle was too far and too awkward. “I’m not trying to prove a point, or be angry you want to keep me from it. But I can’t sit back and let you protect me when someone should have been there to protect you.”

Your head nodding to his chest, covered but once more all knew what lay under it.

Jon frowned a bit, his brows narrowing as his eyes slipped shut. The light touch of your thumb across the pulse on his wrist and easily under the feeling, did you feel it increase the more you ran your thumb over the area. Jon’s voice was tight and restrained when he found your eyes again with a smile trying to fight to be playful. “Going to start locking you in our room one of these days.”

You moved across the table, awkward stretch be damned, keeping your lips from him but the air from your words hit his face as he ran the hand on your cheek now to run through the hair at the back of your head. “Why do I feel like you’d enjoy that more then you should?”

The grey turning black quickly before you, and it was obvious Jon was withholding a clawing animal inside of him as his jaw clenched looking down to your mouth. Trying to find something as playful and innocent to say back, but Jon was still struggling. Not previously realizing how desperate you could make one man feel, but you saw a raw need in his eyes towards you more and more. His voice deep in a husk, “I enjoy a lot of things about you more then I should.”

Your heart skipped a pace, but as it regained a beat it shortened your breathe as it moved faster. An innocent flush in your chest as he looked shamelessly down to what he could see of your frame from his spot.

But he didn’t do anything. Pulled back, and instead collected himself as if not a thing was out of place since the others left the room closed. Nodding you to follow him around the table, “Come. You’ve been here all day, I need to get some food in you.”

You with not a clue that for a brief moment as you came to his side, Jon aggravatingly, couldn't stop himself from recalling how it felt to spill so deeply down your throat, filling your stomach with his seed. As he gently led you out into the halls, he flexed his hand painfully to restrain himself to not slam the door shut in how worked up he already could feel in his bloodstream.

And worse, when he gently ran a hand more innocently down the hair at the back of your head as he led you to the kitchens, Jon recalled the sensation of his hand pressed tight in your hair. Holding your face down and reaching the coarse hair around the base of his cock as you held his hips desperately, and the muffled sounds of gagging and swallowing that came from you.

Jon was getting a bit annoyed with himself, how often since reclaiming Winterfell was he obsessed with the memories and dreams of your touch and the dark desire in his mouth and cock to have you anyway he could imagine.

Half of him was consumed with the fights now and to come and all it would focus on was whats the next step and how many lives will it take to keep them safe again. The sheer not understood responsibility with how much of his day was drowning in the horror’s hes seen to come, and the weight of it all.

The other part of him however, wanted to keep you locked in his room. Not just for his anxious mind over your own safety, but because he had dreamt of something multiple nights in a row since being back here of you. You so peaceful at night, sleeping next to him with not a clue what kind of things he was dreaming about.

Dark, perverse dreams of pinning you down, tying you to his bed, fucking you for hours upon hours. Sleeping fantasies of not letting a single drop of him, not go deep inside your cunt. Dreams obsessed with the idea of not letting you leave his bed until he knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were with his child. And he had no idea of how to stop those thoughts the entire evening with you.

It wasn’t a normal way to think about you he knew, and he didn’t used to be this way. He used to feel terrified at the idea of getting you pregnant, knowing how much him being a bastard would ruin your life. Would give no hope to the life of your own child, another Snow, but now this one being from a bastard father himself. How no matter what he dreamed of in a life with you, Jon used to never want to think about getting you pregnant. Because he knew you would never be able to be with him in this way whatsoever.

But now it was different. He did have you, in more ways then he once could fantasize of. Something about how sure and confident you worked so seamlessly together, held nothing but respect for his people, made him radiate with a pride over how far you two have come. How not a single person around rejected the idea of you two finally being allowed to be together. How he could be with you, make you his wife, take you as many times as it took to fill you with his seed and give you a son, and there wouldn’t be any outsiders interrupting your life saying it wasn’t allowed.

And even though he didn’t like not being able to protect you out there, your place fit so well as you both now were to rule and lead together. He knew you suited being a Queen at his side. Fit well beside him, and he shamefully thought once more, of how good you felt as you fit perfectly under him too.

You were leaving for White Harbour the morning after the next, and Jon knew he had to get a grip.

“Do you truly believe such nonsense?”

Jon Connington was beginning to feel the pull of an increasingly growing frustration with the men around him. He had known Lord Varys for a very long time, longer then the years he spent in exile. A man of whispers and so far much of those continued to be kept from him. And yet, the ones he seemed to choose to share so willingly made no logical sense in his mind. The rumours of the King in the North, rumours of the Queen at his side and all he could think was Northerners were far too superstitious.

He could say of himself he was raised from the dead. Until he landed here in Westeros, most had too put him in the world of the no longer living. Drank himself to death in the ranks of the Golden Company, yet now stands with those same men all but breathing.

Rumours of their Queen slaughtered by House Frey in some war he cared little about, more that the King by her side had somehow survived a knife to the heart. Adding it onto the raven he had sent their way, talking of the dragonglass on the island and it was of upmost importance they are allowed access to it for something far North.

Lord Varys stood by him on the high walls, looking over the vast caverns on the edge as rocks surrounded the view like a shield to either side. “You don’t believe in the old powers, my lord?”

Shaking his head, Connington crossed his arms over his chest, squinting in the bright sun so high in the sky. “If this Northerner wants me to believe in dead Kings and ice monsters, he can show up on our shores like a man and show me his heart himself.” Inhaling deeply, he straightened his posture and took a tone lighter, in an almost mocking. “Tell me. If you’re so fascinated by these people, why are you running before they even get here?”

An amused hum came from the spider beside him, always as entertained by the attitudes of men around him as he was good at hiding any reason they shouldn’t be. “I assure you, Lord Connington I have far more important matters to attend to then to stand and watch a battle I have little to contribute to.”

Connington gave the spider a glare to the side, and still nothing had changed on his face despite the irritation inside him. “Is there anything I need to know? About this King in the North? People on this island seem to have plenty to say about his wife, but I’ve heard next to nothing about him.”

“He is Lord Eddard Stark’s bastard son, his last living son if I am not mistaken.” If Lord Varys noticed a change in the mans tensity, no word was spoken of it.

“My little birds also tell me he is quite the foe in battle. An excellent swordsman like you have not seen in some time, said to be quite an intense lad. And allying himself with the eldest daughter of Stannis Baratheon? Raising each other from the dead? I wouldn’t have crossed them myself.”

Connington glared more openly that time, but Lord Varys did not take offence. “Only one spiders opinion, I of course, am not the King. But I would recommend keeping ours as far from this Jon Snow on the battlefield as possible. Just to be on the safe side.”

As the sun had begun to set to the west behind them, Connington eventually turned to him fully. Hand’s both gloved enough that not even a good tug would drag them off, he extended it out. “Do me a favour,” Lord Varys raised an eyebrow in silent patience, “Don’t mention any of this to him. He has enough on his plate, I don’t need Lyanna Stark’s ghost coming to haunt him now too.”

As the sky turned dark and he stood alone, Jon Connington couldn’t help but wonder to himself. Was all the destruction left in Rhaegar’s wake truly worth it? Almost thirty years had passed since your death, he thought, and still I haven’t found a way to move passed the things you did.

The choices near the end that so few understood, that stayed locked heavily in Connington’s head because who was left to care about his side of things?

He had been foolish at one point to think that Robert Baratheon’s death would make any of this more simple, but it didn’t. If anything, the death of the one man he had truly been hiding Aegon from, only made things even more complicated. It had been almost thirty years, but every day he still thought of Rhaegar, would that ever go away? Would he ever leave his mind for good?

Thinking to himself so loudly in his mind, will I ever look at your son and finally see you in his eyes? His face? His words? Anything?

Is there any of you left in your son, Rhaegar?

If you could hope and pray for anything to come crashing through these walls and end this conversation now, you’d accept it with open arms. There was nothing you wished to talk about less then this, but your mother walked beside you through the grounds of Winterfell with no intention of letting you walk away without addressing it further. “There might not be a better opportunity for some time.”

Sighing out, you found the strength within you not to roll your eyes. As nice as it was to see her settling in easier, there was no denying that it was difficult getting used to her having a presence in your life now. Having made sure her quarters were well tended too, having gotten her more things more fitting of the cold and snow around the North and had a place here. Yet she walked beside you now, as your eyes flickered to the sides, trying to spot who may be overhearing. Not wanting the people to get the wrong message, not that you were entirely sure what that was anymore.

Technically, it was a Northern Queen and a Southern Queen walking side by side, but all any would see should they glace over was a mother giving a lecture of sorts to her increasingly agitated daughter.

Glancing to her from the sides of your vision before training them back forward, your tone stern and short with huffs of frustration in your breaths between. “There’s nothing for him to see, what would he even be looking at?” Your voice turning more stiff mock of an accent. “Oh my word, it seems you still have a gruesome scar where you were stabbed repeatedly in the womb.”

Your mother’s flat expression was not impressed as she looked at you, your name flat on her voice in warning. “Now you’re purposely being childish.” Your shrug did not do much more to make that statement any less true. Huffing, she leans closer to speak less to those around the yards. “A maester will be able to tell you what you won’t listen to me for.”

You shook your head, ignoring the sting on your arms you weren’t quite dressed for. “I’m not going to speak to Wolkan, and to answer your next suggestion, no I won’t see Pylos when I am there either. I’m perfectly content not being told unfortunate news I can already predict myself.”

There were times you felt disconnected from her, and yet as you both walked through the grounds and found rigid disagreement between the other, it was clear who you were related too. An undeniable awkwardness between you both with little love, and yet you had the same narrowed expression and roughness in your voice the more an argument was impending. “You need to start taking your own health more seriously.” Turning finally you faced her with a sharp glare but much like you, Selyse did not back down or back up. “You can ignore it all you want, but you are a Queen now. And things will be expected of you, and when you have no answers for that what are you going to do then?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know. You didn’t want anyone to bring it up, you didn’t even wish to think on it at all. Relaxing in your shoulders as they deflated, you peeked to the side and found none standing too close. Your mother’s eyes softening just enough for you in front of her to see. “What did Maester Cressen tell you, when you lost yours..”

Selyse leaned in just the slightest bit, your head hanging a small amount as something felt as if it were starting to choke in your throat. “He thought it was something in my blood. That whatever it was, I’ve like had it since I was a girl. It effected my ability to bear a child, which is why I was unwell both with you and Shireen.” Her hand draped up gently to drape a loose strand of your hair behind your shoulder from where it fell. “I always knew there was something wrong, but you had no ill signs until you already lost yours. You do not need to have the worries I do.”

You bit your tongue, looking to the side as your gloved hands flexed at your sides. “And if there is? I already have a reminder forever of losing him. What if I can’t handle hearing the truth over any more?”

Selyse didn’t really move to comfort you, but there was a pain you both understood. A loss that weighed heavily and drowned out any confidence in your capabilities of a duty you were long raised to uphold. The hand on your hair ran down your upper arm as her voice was low. “Then you deal with that then, but only then.”

Inhaling, you stood straighter as you glanced around to nothing of focus. Your voice now airy and far as the topics were changed in your mind to avoid the current any longer. “Ser Davos is staying behind until the men here are ready. Are you coming with me to White Harbour?”

Your mother now too glanced around, looking to the place she’d never spent any time thinking of what it could look like. “I’m staying behind for now. If I leave before I memorize where things are, I will just have to relearn it all over again. I will join with the rest, let you spend some time with your father.”

Tone much more flat as well as you expression dropped. “Oh, that will be a great joy.” She once more said your name in warning, but you turned to walk away by that point, but before getting too far your eyes narrowed before whipping around to face her. “Mother, don’t interrogate him once I leave. I am a grown woman, I can make my own choices.”

Her lips narrowed flat but a single raise of her eyebrows told you that was not a promise she would be making. You glared much easier that time but with a fluster on your cheeks at what she would even say to him. At least you were her child, there was tact to be given there. You couldn’t imagine what she would say to Jon once you weren’t there to pull her back.

Sorting through the tools needed, Tormund quickly had tossed what was good and not for the task at hand, “I’ve been up and down the wall many times, pretty crow. And I never had anything fancy to do it, just something reliable.” Both of you saying yes and no to certain things, comparing the rocks and cliff sides to the snow and ice and coming to a conclusion they weren’t terribly different.

Shaking your head at one point, “It can’t be big enough we need to see where we pick it through. Where we are climbing, it will be next to pitch black until we reach the top we have to be able to rely on what we can feel. And we won’t be able to communicate either, if something goes wrong we all need to be able to rely on having what we need on us.”

A plan of silence was to keep sure none would spot you. Deciding that if your father’s men were going to take up the back, you only needed as many of you to safely climb and sneak your way through the grounds to get to them. “How does a girl like you know so much about this kind of thing?”

Smirking much easier then normal, you only sorted through the ropes as your voice was stuffed with a fondness of the past. “The mines we are going to, some of them go far down into the earth and they are pitch black without a torch.” Narrowing your eyes at the looseness or tear in others you put some to the side. “I spent a lot of time down there as a girl, you teach yourself rather quick how not to fall to your death when all alone.”

Tormund chuckled, not sure in your own head if he would even picture it or not. “Well you’ll be tied to me this time, meaning if you fall to your death you’d be taking me with you.” Leaning forward with a playful narrowed expression, “Means we don’t fall, pretty crow. I’ve got too much to see of you to let you and I die yet.”

The laugh between you was easy. Setting up the right equipment for four of you, Tormund tethered to you and beside you both Theon would be tethered to another of the free folk, Ryk. A short man, but surprisingly sturdy on his feet in comparison. Agreeing to have only four of you climb took away the likelihood of being discovered.

Quiet passed between you both for a little bit, Ryk coming over at one point to look over things as Tormund seemed to have a more narrowed, sharp look in his eyes that didn’t quite intimidate. But was enough to grab your attention. Tossing a few ropes into his chest roughly, before giving a flat expression as the other said no words in response. Hands stopping to look at him with a questioning gaze, he gestured back to the man, “Longspear stole my daughter. Took her right out of her tent, gave a good fight though. Broke his lip and almost bit half his ear off.”

The proud look on his face would’ve been amusing if you didn’t have multiple questions, the first of which being, “He stole her?”

Smirking, he shrugged at you. “The way the free folk do things, pretty crow. You want a woman? You have to prove you deserve her, be strong enough to protect her, give her good sons.” Noticing a tint of unsettled in your eyes, even though your face was stone as statue he leaned in with a quieter tone towards you. “Our women aren’t like you Southerners. Most places, the women are scarier then the men. Any man who catches himself around the Frozen Shore with his pants down?” Giving out a whistle almost in dismay, “Wouldn’t want it to be me.”

Your eyes narrowed as you considered it, looking back you continued your work, “So it’s a bit more like you take whats in front of you, and if you can hold onto it, then it’s yours?”

Nodding with more of a proud look once more, “Aye, that’s exactly it. We don’t have your fancy castles and servants. If we want something, we have to fight to keep it. You talk to the women where I’m from, and you’ll find most of them enjoy finding a man who can keep up with them.”

Glancing up to Ryk, you nodded over to him. “So is that why you keep giving him that look? You don’t think he’s good enough?”

Chuckling deep in his chest, “Munda’s my own blood, but she likes him well enough. And I know why. He don’t fight with no spear, you know. Never has. But they call him Longspear for a reason. I don’t fight with him, no matter how much he makes me want to yank his eyeballs out. But man like him doesn’t use it enough, it’ll grow smaller until he goes to piss and can’t find it. So I put up with him.”

It was difficult to say if you were slightly more intimidated by their culture, or growing simply more amused by how natural they spoke of things most absurd. Born from the same people, Northerners and the Free Folk both came from the First Men, and yet they couldn’t be more different in the way things were seen or done. For all the slander in the South of how rigid and brutish the North was, they seemed to hold a great importance on their morals.

Your mind trailing back to his story you glanced back asking, “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

Nodding, a small smirk once more thinking of it. “Aye, got myself two. That I know of. Munda’s the youngest, least the fucker waited until she was a woman to snatch her. Svanya’s older, both of them went with the other groups, finding land and homes.” Tilting his head a bit more in a serious gaze as he did so, “We raided enough of your villages over the years, plenty of space to make our own this point.”

Desperation was an odd thing you thought to yourself. Recalling the way Olly had to almost force the words out to tell of what happened to his father and mother, the village taken from him and what led to such a horrid hatred festering in his heart to be manipulated. Yet, the man before you led that raiding party himself, but you found not an ounce of distrust towards him.

Winter had come, and the storms would soon follow and that took the blood thirst and hatred for one another out of the equation when it mattered. The ones who couldn’t move passed it, seemed to not have ever made it in the first place. You were making plans to tie a rope between you both and scale the cliffs during a battle at his side and it was odd to consider this seemed like not an unusual thing for your life now.

The man it seemed, had a thought which you had not realized was brewing beneath the surface. Tone quieter and deeper as he looked at you, “Strange though, how you Southerners all put the blame on your women for everything that goes wrong.” Your heart skipped a beat, a familiar banging in your head that moved until the pain bled out from your stomach. “Can’t go anywhere ‘round here without hearing someone talk about how you two died. How that scrawny worm was the son of the man who did that to you.”

He looked down to your covered stomach and you hated that everyone knew about it. That there was no escaping the stories told and what was lost that night with you. No matter how much you tried to look up to the skies and tell yourself it was okay to not assume Robb hates you, you still hate yourself.

“Just beacuse you heard of it, doesn’t mean we need to speak on it.”

Tormund however, was not pressed by your stiff, held back attitude. “Men where I’m from are judged on whether or not they can give their woman strong babies. You’re lot seems to judge the women when they lose them. And none of it means shit in either direction.” Your jaw clenched and if he noticed he didn’t even think to stop. “Most don’t even name their babies ‘till they reach two, how often they die. Getting gutted when he was still inside you’s even less your faul-”

Slamming down the wall spikes in your hands with a loud thud you finally felt your voice raise in a more yelling hiss, “Why do you care so much? Why do any of you care about it when it’s no business of yours.”

Instead there was sympathy, as much as a man as himself could muster. A pain he knew nothing of and never could, but you didn’t want anyone to care. You didn’t want to care, yourself. Except every time you look in a mirror, you spend so much of that time trying to not to look at it. You could see the blood and sorrowful blue eyes all over again every time. Feel the blood in your mouth choking your hysteric gasps as you tried to tell Robb to leave while he still had his life.

No child to bury, and no father to even bring home either. Only a dagger with their blood and yours remained. There was nothing but failure every step of the way, and The Mother had never once told you how to repent for the sins you didn’t know you committed.

“Hate to break it to you, pretty crow but I care about you now. Means I’m gonna tell you when you’re acting dumb.” Your face fell slat, eyes slightly narrowed with no amusement but once more nothing was taken with offence. “If Snow’s heart is beating after getting a knife shoved in it, you’re probably fine too. Besides, if I have to watch him give you those desperate lovesick eyes when he thinks you aren’t looking one more time, I’ll throw myself off this cliff when we’re done with it.”

He had overheard you and your mother earlier, and he’s seen Snow enough times looking at the kids around these walls then look at you like he wants that more then anything. He knew the longer you didn’t talk about it, the more you were going to let that fester and grow into something ugly.

But you indeed, were a little too much like your father for your own good at times. A stubbornness that was like chipping away on a boulder. You just needed someone strong enough to finally come by and crack it open in one go, get you back to being yourself and not falling into closing off like many knew for your father.

Yet, far South following along the sea until one reached Dragonstone there was another who could not stop the comparisons of a father. Only, the comparisons were not easily come by. In fact, they were getting increasingly hard to see, and there was still a King in those eyes.

Jon Connington had come across Aegon finally. Sat at the head of the painted table with the backdrop of a dark sky finally setting over to greet. His hair still sat blue, and he could only wonder if Aegon was still dying it or if this one was taking longer to wash out. Not with the same length, Connington had let his normal colour bleed through, many would recognize him in Westeros and there was little reason to hide anymore.

Yet Aegon still sat there, blue covering up the true colour beneath. Before making the voyage here, the Imp had put together the truth on his own it seemed. Realizing that the blue made the same blue in Aegon’s eyes stand out, or perhaps he had put it, was trying to hide the purple which was the real colour. Was right annoyed at how fast Tyrion Lannister had caught onto things.

Connington had spent many years thinking he knew exactly what he was looking at. In Essos, it was easy to see that image. By the time Varys and Illyrio had approached him, the boy was already two and steps were taken to hide his true identity well. Then he learned who it was, whose son he was, and it felt like he was given one last chance to prove himself.

He had failed spectacularly and it got him sent into exile. An exile that meant he was not there to protect Rhaegar from the imposing, overpowering strength of Robert Baratheon. But he had trusted him with Aegon. He had thought to himself in those days, “I failed the father, but I will not fail the son.”

Aegon was approaching Rhaegar’s age when he died. What had it been? Twenty seven? Eight? It felt more like a lifetime ago. Looking at him lean almost lazily across the surface of the painted table, he held a small carved dragon in his hand. Twisting it as he looked it over time and time again with something far away in his eyes. A wonder that washed over into doubt with the tides.

Where are you in your son, Rhaegar?

“I haven’t seen you this serious in a long time.”

Connington focused back onto the present, the boys blue- purple eyes shining up brightly at him but not bothering to hide his own exhaustion. Gesturing to him as he walked slowly over he jested, “I would say the same about you. Everything we’ve done and this is the least I’ve ever seen a smile find itself on your face.”

Still, no smile came.

Pulling up to sit in the seat closest to him on a different side of the table, he leaned in closely nodding to the carved dragon he returned to staring at. “Hoping it will come to life?” But Aegon only shook his head with a twisting grimace. “Ones bigger then that will be yours eventually. It’s in your blood. Those dragons of hers get big enough, could ride one all on your own beside her-”

A moment of deep irritation, he tossed the figure halfway down the table, Aegon leaned back with a sigh. Arms crossing over his chest as he looked away for a moment. “I’m sorry,” Meeting Connington’s eyes once more the exhaustion was a lot clearer. It had been a long road to get here, but it wouldn’t stop now. “All my life I’ve been preparing for this, to be here. It felt right, felt it was what I was always meant for to train for these days but now that we’re here? Now that I am to call myself King? I’m not quite sure I really did leave Young Griff behind in Essos.” His laugh wasn’t quite genuine, but a sarcastic huff. “I haven’t been Aegon since I was a baby. Who is he supposed to be now?”

Connington felt the rising shame, that he was relieved Rhaegar’s confidence had not passed onto his son. He didn’t like seeing the boy so full of doubt, but there was something fearful in how confident his father had been in that final year. Something that no one understood and he died without anyone ever getting it. Including Connington.

“You’ve always been him. You were trained, taught, educated all to be as good and better then your father. This was meant for you, no matter the name we hid you behind. This is just an obstacle.”

Aegon wasn’t finished however. Interrupting Connington before he had a chance to continue, his brows narrowed and voice tough and rigid as he spoke. Eyes trained on the painted table. “It wasn’t my first instinct. The King in the North, I mean. You had asked me what my first instinct was, but my first instinct was to just let him have what he wanted. We needed a place to go, somewhere to think before Storm’s End. Why should I care about giving a bunch of Northerns rocks in a mine?”

The man knew where this was going. “But now he’s coming for a fight.” Aegon nodded, still unsure as he was before making that very choice. He knew exactly what he did. “You made the choice you thought Rhaegar would.” They had worked hard to raise him right, prepare him. But all the training hadn’t given him the one that was plaguing the boy, Connington knew. Aegon had little and less experience of the world and all it’s woes. He was still a like boy too naive for a King’s own good. “There is no going back now.”

Sighing out deeply, the boy once again seemed more agitated then Connington had seen in him for a long time. Not realizing, he as seeing the same in Connington in return. “I know. I made the choice and I have to live with it, even if I don’t like it. I’m not supposed to enjoy it.”

Where were you, Rhaegar? Why could your soul not pass any of your certainty of yourself down to your own blood? Aegon knew what it took to be King, but it also sat upon his shoulders like a burden instead of a life he was to rule from. He didn’t choose to be King, but the closer he got to reaching that, it felt as if Connington couldn’t find the right words to comfort him over it.

He never had to comfort Rhaegar, always confident and always sure his actions were the only ones that were correct. Aegon was bringing a Northern King to his shores for a fight and only saw regret in what he could’ve done instead. Rhaegar thought he was more god then man. He didn’t care what others thought as long as it was his choice to be made. Where was the fair middle in between them?

Gloved hand reached out, grasped the boy’s forearm gently and squeezed. His eyes shooting up to meet Connington’s with a gratitude, even if he didn’t say it. “Get some sleep. We still have much to prepare for, and I want to see you working more with that sword tomorrow. Never assume you’re as good as you think you are, that’s how you lose at the Stoney Sept and get kicked out across the seas your whole life.”

He was strong, but not as skilled as he needed to be. Connington could see the strength behind him, and he could overpower a man twice his size, but being a good swordsman was more then that. Either he needed the skill, or he needed the intensity. Both of which Rhaegar had, and yet not enough to win a battle when it mattered the most.

Get Aegon through this battle though, and the rest will come easier. After all, time was on Aegon’s side. Just not his own. Death, he knew, was slow. In the quiet silence of his quarters, he would look upon his arm and seek out every breathe of change coming to it. He had time. A year, two years. Five? Some stone men live for ten. Time enough to beat this King in the North, and finish what Rhaegar had started.

He needed enough time to sit Aegon on the Iron Throne, and then Jon Connington could die content.

There wasn’t much packed, wouldn’t need much where you were going. Yet the image as Jon walked into his room was one which made him a little more unsettled you could tell. Tucked away neatly against a wall was a bag only with what you’d need for a short time, but you had sat against the foot of the bed on the floor, leather armour sitting around when he came in. Your eyes registered from the sides of your vision but were too focused on the final stitching to properly look up.

“What are you doing?” Without sacrificing your attention you answered mostly with one word that you were stitching. A smirk came across Jon’s face however as much as he felt the need to roll his eyes. “I can see that, I meant why are you doing it on the floor?”

Finishing up, you tossed it to the side, leaning back once more against the foot of the bed as you looked up at him. Taking the time to take his heavier layers off as he watched you. “I needed space, and the floor mean’s nothing’s in my way. Did yours as well.” Raising an eye brow at you, you nodded to the amours beside you. “Stitched up what was torn, cleaned and polished the metals. All is missing is you in it.”

“You didn’t have to-”

You barley even glanced at him as you stood, interrupting with an ease you didn’t notice took him slightly off guard. “I wanted too, wasn’t anything.” Even more off guard Jon felt as you seemed to take over the task for him he started. Coming to stand in front of him, as you undressed him, leaving just the soft minimal layers underneath left. His eyes slipping closed with a satisfied hum as you slid to move behind him, and let his curls fall loose around his head, running your fingers through them to breathe some life into the strands once more.

With almost only an instinct, as you ran through his curls, you slowly made your way down to run your hands down his upper arms, his shoulders sitting higher in a tensity that had you looking at him almost in a worry. One of his own reached up, grasping a hand of yours holding it under his tightly as his voice rang out low. “I’m sorry about Tormund.” Your brows narrowed but didn’t move to interrupt him. “I told him not to say anything. He overheard you and your mother, thought he was trying to help.”

Your head almost hung a bit behind him, body going a bit more slack which you knew he could feel in his touch. Murmuring your name, you slid from him entirely before he had the chance to grab you. It was a deflection coming from you, but he let it happen. “I told Theon about us.” Pacing to the other side of the room before turning back to him. Not making eye contact as you braced your palms on the cabinet behind you. “About how we used to..”

Jon’s eyes narrowed in curiosity, stepping further in and crossing his arms across his chest. “I think we’re a bit beyond the point of worrying what other people think.” This time he wasted no time in coming up to you with ease, one hand moving to your hip, while the other tilted your jaw up so you had to face him properly. “How about you tell me what’s really bothering you, beacuse it isn’t that. And before you take off on me.”

Sighing a small bit, you let one of your hands reach out to his waist while the other lightly moved along the scars hidden by the soft shirt over him until reaching the edges. Dipping your fingertips into the collars, you pushed the fabric aside enough to run freely along the one over his heart. The lightness in your eyes fading as you looked at him. “Mine wasn’t like yours. Your body died, but you were somehow still alive in Ghost. Your mind never stopped, it was always you in there somewhere. But I wasn’t. I was beside Robb, and then...when I first woke up, I thought I was still dead. That whatever I was seeing was just some punishment I was in for what I’d done..but it was all real. You were still always there, so it makes sense all of you came back.”

Your fingers never stopped tracing over the mark, Jon leaning forward more to press a kiss to your forehead before wrapping a hand around to hold the back of your head and rest against you. “You think not all of you came back?” The hand on your hip ran up, his thumb now running gently over where your own scar was under your dress. “Or are you scared just this part didn’t?”

You didn’t answer, and Jon sensed it almost right away. The growing combination of failure in what was supposed to be a purpose you were born for, and the impossibility of how you lost that and yet still can stand in the space you were. Looking up to meet his eyes, there was a sorrow in his own that Jon didn’t know how to make better in yours. Voice high and airy, trying not to break you mustered only half a smile before the sting turned to tears. “You said you wanted nine, right? How much would you hate me if I couldn’t even give you one?”

His lips were soft, gentle and light as he only kissed you enough to calm any out of control emotions brewing within your chest. One hand on your cheek as the other stayed running along that spot. His lips stayed coaxing gentle following from you, until he felt you relax. Until he felt you slide your palms up his chest and collarbones to wrap gently around the back of his neck.

Tilting your jaw better to deepen just a tad amount, he felt you give a tiny whimper into his mouth that once more had him kiss you a smidge more demanding. But just as he felt you lean into his chest, and the desire in him to press you further into the cabinet did he move back. Pressing one smaller one to your lips, before moving away enough you could feel his lips brush yours as he spoke. “I’m taking you to see Wolkan first thing in the morning, I don’t want you leaving with that on your mind like this. I want you to hear it from him that you have nothing to worry about.”

A little smirk fell over his face as he gently nudged your nose with his, before letting himself get just greedy enough to steal one more kiss. “Besides, we already have one oversized child to take care of.”

Your face twisted on confusion, only for Jon to pull away just enough he knew you could see it. Hints of it were on Robb but neither of you had the words nor understanding to explain it. But his eyes were white, as if the brightness overtook most of it’s colour in the same instance that the door opened.

But for a moment, you recalled how it felt that day first arriving in Castle Black. Deep red eyes like blood looked to you with a quiet intensity you once thought was strange how human it felt. And in a second as your lips parted and looked back between the two, Jon had come back to himself, and suddenly Ghost had happily walked over and nudged into the back of Jon playfully.

The force pushing him against you, hands reaching out with a chuckle to keep you steady against him as the large direwolf came to his side. His eyes found yours and you looked up at him with a wide eyed wonder, an impress in your expression. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you actually do it..”

Running his hands along your hips as he looked down at you, passing in between your eyes and lips as he spoke. “It gets easier now that I know what it is. And this way I know I can keep an eye on Winterfell while we’re gone.”

Ghost seemed to have enough, not wanting to be in the same room as both of you and not a shred of attention was on him. A tiny whine in his throat that had you both amused. “I’m guessing this is who you meant by oversized child.”

As the normally silent and stoic direwolf now tried to take charge of the interaction by demanding you both pet him, the answer was clear. Watching you smile and laugh at how easy you interacted with his own direwolf, Jon had found enough strength in him to reel back that desperation. You were his after all, and maybe for now just making sure he was taking care of you, of your heart, was just enough for the wolf in him.

And wolves always take care of their mates, no matter in what way they need.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Text

Sprinkle

18+ minors dni Bucky x f reader

@cadencejames87 this was adorable, I love shy Bucky, that bb deserves to be protected forever, FOREVER (pic of the whole request posted below💕)

Warnings: FLUFF, Implied smut Word count: 2.6k

You ran down the hall, your arms full of documents you had to print out with information about the team’s latest mission. You’d only been working at the compound for a few months and in all honesty, it wasn’t as stressful as one would expect. You spent most of the day quietly keeping things in order behind the scenes, rarely seeing any of the avengers. Not that it mattered. Maybe it mattered just a little. There was one that you wouldn’t mind seeing more of. Handsome. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Brunette. Sharp nose. Metal arm. Metal arm.….Dear God, focus y/n.

You laid out the papers in the conference room, restocked the cups for the coffee machine, and set out some snacks. Today you opted for sprinkle donuts, deciding the team could use a drop of happiness in their day instead of the boring bran muffins the previous intern always left. You did a quick once over of the room, making sure everything was in place before the team walked in.

Your heart stopped working as you saw him in his all black outfit, your absolute favourite. You quietly slipped out of the room, your heart racing; the heat on your cheeks could have warmed frozen waffles. He was so fucking handsome. You went about the rest of your day, happily floating on cloud nine; it was rare you got to see him in person. Could you just go up and talk to him? Of course. Did you have the courage of a chicken nugget? Also of course. Happily admiring from afar would have to do…for now.

*****

“These are so cute!” Nat giggled, popping some of the sprinkles that fell off the donut, into her mouth. The donuts definitely made all the difference; most of the meeting went by with everyone giggling at sprinkles that clung to their lips.

“Mhm, that would be y/n’s doing” Tony chuckled, taking an extra donut for Morgan. Bucky smiled at the colourful little sugary confection; he never had a sprinkle donut before and it was delicious. And sweet. And soft. And bright. And bubbly. And adorable. And beautiful. With a cute smile. And so thoughtful. And he was no longer thinking about the donut, for fucks sakes Barnes. Bucky shook his head, trying to focus the meeting again but his mind was still distracted by…something…

Sprinkles.

*****

You shuffled through your closet, deciding to slip on your new dress (it was not a coincidence at all, that it was Bucky’s favourite color). It wasn’t something you’d usually wear to work but was a special day. His special day. You paired it off with your black boots that had tiny gold zippers, touching up your makeup before making your way to the office. With your heart heating out of your chest. Because it was his birthday today. And you had a plan in mind.

As the intern, you always made note of everyone’s birthday’s, sending out reminders for the rest of the team, arranging for catering and organizing the events for them. You never actually had to get anything for them. But Bucky was different. You knew just about everything there was to know about the team; parties were not really Bucky’s thing. He wasn’t big on extravagant gifts. Most of the time he walked around looking like he just needed a hug. Bucky deserved more than that.

You bought a large gift basket, hand picking items you knew he loved. You had his favourite tea and coffee, a box of candies that came from a store that packaged their sweets the same way from the 40’s, new leather gloves (with a note: if you ever need to feel safe; but you never have to hide), a few records of old music he listened to and a bunch of other little items that you hoped he’d enjoy.

You make it to the compound, waddling down the hall way carrying the gift box nearly the size of you. You went to the common room, pausing when you saw him talking to Sam and Steve. That wasn’t part of the plan but fuck it. You took a deep breath, marching right to him, wordlessly handing him the basket before turning away.

Bucky’s cheeks were dusted pink as he held the gift, his mouth opening and closing, words refusing to come out, what the fuck Barnes, say something. The three men stared at you, blinking, mouths gaping as you rounded the corner, disappearing out of their sight.You looked gorgeous. You always looked gorgeous but today was something else, Bucky’s eyes never left you, the colour of the dress complimenting you skin beautifully. Your boots made your hips sway as you walked.

“You’re blushing like a school girl” Sam snorted, looking at Bucky with a shit eating grin plastered on his face, “Just missing a little daisy crown and little pig tails-Ow!”

Bucky flicked Sam’s ear before setting down the giant box, carefully trying to inspect its contents without opening it in front of his best friend and best pain in the ass, though it was already probably too late. His not so secret crush was out in the open and he clearly didn’t hide it well.

“So this is why you keep taking so long to come back to our floor, I was wondering why you spent so much time wandering around that section of the tower” Steve wiggled his eyebrows, his smile growing wider as he remembered more. “WAIT- this is why he started getting coffee from the little French bakery y/n goes to!!”Both Sam and Steve cackled and clapped their hands madly, piecing together every single time Bucky had tried to slyly “run into you”.

Bucky’s heart raced as he contemplated the 101 ideas that were bouncing in his head. He should go after you. Or not. Yes he should. No. You were so fucking pretty. Bucky no. Wait, he didn’t even say thank you. Where were his manners, his ma would have served him on a platter.

He ignored Sam and Steve as they continued to snicker, running after you and jumping in the elevator just before it could close. You felt your heart in your mouth, the both of you standing in the elevator as the door closed. You nervously bit your lip, seeing him holding the large box in his arms, this was not part of the plan. Nope. Nope. No.

“Hi” You squeaked, eyes growing wide, you didn’t anticipate having to actually say anything to him but seriously, who the hell does that. You could have said happy birthday…happy birthday Bucky…you gorgeous, sexy, beefy, so hot you should fuck me sideways super soldier, I think you’re beautifu- nope. Never mind, this is why you didn’t speak.

“Hi” Bucky looked down at you, a shy smile playing on his face “Didn’t you want to see me open it?”

You jumped as the elevator dinged, coming to a stop on Bucky’s floor. Bucky looked to you, grinning when you nodded, his heart racing as you followed him to his room. He opened the door, setting the large box down, unable to control the smile that nearly made his cheeks hurt. It could a have been an empty box and the fact that it came from you would have still been the best gift he’d ever received.

You nervously fidgeted as he tore the paper away, lifting the lid, what if it was too much, what if he wouldn’t like it, what if-

Bucky gasped, stepping back as tons of little brightly coloured balloons flew out of the box, a little note on top of your care package that read

A Box of Sunshine to Brighten your Day

Bucky wordlessly stared at you, his expression unreadable. You bit your lip, worrying you’d over stepped; you were about to apologize when Bucky began speaking.

“Y-you did this all for me?” Bucky whispered, looking down at the little note and back to you. “This means a lot, really. It meant a lot. I- uh, you should come to Stark’s party tonight” He looked at you hopefully, his bright baby blue eyes sparkling. “It’d definitely make it worthwhile for me to go if…if you came?”

You smiled at your feet, feeling your entire body heat up; pinching your skin a little to be sure this wasn’t all a dream.

“I’d love to go but isn’t it your party? I wouldn’t want to impose-

“Every party is a Stark party” Bucky snorted, “But you’re right. And that means I can decide who I want there. I’d really like for you to come..Sprinkle”

*****

“You look fine punk” Steve cocked an eyebrow, watching Bucky nervously fidget with his shirt, a hand running over his beard, the blush of his cheeks growing stronger. “I’m sure your little sprinkle would agree”

“It’s not like that” Bucky groaned, regretting letting the name he had for you slip out in a conversation. You were a sweet heart, but that was just who you were. You were a little drop of sunshine for everyone. Just because you got him the perfect gift with every little detail perfect, right down to his favourite brand of gloves meant nothing special. You would have done that for anyone. Not that you did before but…

“Uh huh, so you changed into ten different shirts for no reason? This coming from the guy who hasn’t enjoyed parties in the past 80 years” Steve gave his friend a pointed look, chuckling when Bucky refused to make eye contact.

“Shut up” Bucky mumbled, poorly hiding his little smirk as they both made their way downstairs.

*****

You fixed your hair for the 8th time, triple checking your dress in the mirror before slipping your heels on. You were excited as hell but also nervous… Bucky had invited you to his party. The very Bucky Barnes. You’d organized hundreds of these parties but you never went to them. This would be the first one. You giggled to yourself, thinking about the puppy like wonder Bucky had on his face when the balloons flew out of the box. The way his face flushed asking you to come. The way he called you sprinkle.

Calm down y/n.

He was just being nice, he’d always been such a gentleman. You decided not to read into anything, failing to keep the little smile off your face, fuck he was adorable.

*****

Bucky sat on a lounge chair, sipping on his whiskey, his heart stopping as he saw you shyly making your way towards him. You were in another perfect dress, the material wrapping around your body perfectly, another thing he’d love to unwrap- stop. Bad Bucky.

“Happy Birthday Soldier” You whispered your eyes unable to move from his handsome form. He was already gorgeous on a regular day but now? His eyes gazing at you, his tongue daring out to lick his bottom lip, those lips…so..soft…stop. His legs were slightly spread apart and what you would do to curl up right on his lap- fuck, stop. You took a seat beside him, keeping some distance between you both, mostly because you were sure his super senses would detect how warm your body was.

“You-you look beautiful y/n” Bucky smiled, swallowing thickly when you giggled, oh god that sound.

*****

The team carefully watched you both from a corner, making sure to keep their distance so they wouldn’t be seen.

“How long till they get together”

“I give it 1 hour tops, they’re both giving each other fuck me eyes”

“Barnes is one second away from combusting; can his old heart actually handle having a crush?”

“They’re both shy, you think they’ll at least hold hands?”

“Y’know he calls her sprinkle? Cause of the donuts?”

“AWWW I ship them”

“What the hell does that mean Parker”

*****

“Did you want to get a drink?” Bucky nervously shifted beside you, you were so precious and you were making it impossible for his nerves to calm down. You smiled, nodding, taking his extended hand, the both of you walking towards the bar. You both took a seat at the stools that were off to a more secluded area.

“I really loved everything you got me” He whispered, not telling you that after you left, the tears fell freely, no one had ever gotten him something so thoughtful. “No one’s ever gotten me something so special”

“You deserve it Bucky” You said sincerely, sucking in a breath, placing your hand gently on top of his. You relaxed a little when he didn’t pull away, your heart racing when he held your hand instead. Don’t over think it, don’t over think it. Conversation started to easily flow between you both, and on the outside, it looked like everything was going great.

On the inside, the both of you shook, unsure of how the other felt, unsure if there were any mutual feelings, unsure if you were reading into things, maybe there was something? No, probably not…maybe?

*****

“Is it everything you ever wanted it to be” You giggled, looking at the wild party that was taking place, a Stark part indeed.

“There’s…there’s one more thing…that I’d like…” Bucky’s eyes shifted, his cheeks blushing as he played with your fingers. You cocked your head urging for him to continue. “Dance with me?”

You both swayed on the dance floor, his hands gently holding your waist, your hands resting on his chest. You were glad he was holding you because if not, you would have definitely collapsed. His cologne and distinct scent that made him Bucky evaded your senses and you nearly felt light headed, nothing would ever smell as good. The warmth of his fingers, playing on the bare skin of your back gave you goose bumps.

“Thank you for coming” Bucky whispered against your ear, his lips gently brushing against your skin. You perfume was driving him inside and it was taking all his super soldier strength not to throw you over his shoulder. The softness of your skin against his lips was something he wanted to feel every night and every morning when he woke up.

“Thank you for inviting me” You smiled up at him, your eyes darting from his lips to meet his eye sand back to his lips fuck they were so perfect. Your heart raced as he hesitantly leaned in, his hands gripping you harder when you stood on your toes to meet his lips. His soft lips moulded perfectly against yours, moving slowly, savouring every second of the kiss, the both of you forgetting you were still in the middle of the dance floor, not that anyone seemed to mind.

*****

“THEY’RE KISSING, I REPEAT THEY’RE KISSING!!”

“Oh shit, he made a move! Get it tinman!”

“They’re so sweet!”

“100 bucks says they bang tonight, who wants in”

“Don’t be gross. I’m in”

“I’m in, but my money’s on Sprinkle”

“Y/n is too sweet for that”

“Whatever you say”

*****

“S-sorry” Bucky pulled away before he went any further, his hands twitching, trying so hard not to grab you. “I just- you’re so- I, I really like-” Your lips cut off his flustered rambling as he moaned into the kiss, his tongue happily exploring your mouth, his hands coming to cup your face. You need more. If he wasn’t going to throw you over his shoulder then-

Fuck it.

Bucky stared at you, wide eyed as you took his hand in yours, dragging him out of the party and to your room. You both look at each other for a moment before clothes were thrown off, his hands flying to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist, dropping you onto your bed.

“Enjoying your party now?” you giggled breathlessly, biting your lip feeling his body weight rest on top of you, his eyes sparkling as he gazed down at you.

“Best. Birthday. Ever, Sprinkle” Bucky sweetly kissed your nose before trailing kisses down your body, he was going to savour this all night.

Back at the party

“I told you sprinkle would make a move”

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