#robb stark x chubby!reader

[deactivatedpermanently]

Fat Bastard Girl | Robb Stark

Could you maybe do a Robb Stark imagine where the reader is insecure about her weight and he comforts her?

Requested by: Anonymous

(A/N: I really hope this was alright; I’ve never really written anything based on a request before, but there’s a first time for everything I suppose! Also, if you’re offended by explicit language (which I doubt you are if you like Game of Thrones) then probably skip this one.)

Summary: When you, a swordfighter loyal to the Starks, follow Robb to war, many of the soldiers manage you feel insecure about yourself. Robb steps in and comforts you.

By the age of 3, you had a sword in your hand. Sitting idly by and simply just marvelling at your half-brothers and their immaculate swordsmanship wasn’t enough to satisfy you. So, with your father’s permission, your second eldest half-brother (Gared Laurent), the legitimate son of former knight Lord Regalt Laurent, taught you to how to fight. He was just 15 at the time, but he, like you, was a prodigy with a sword. However, unlike you, he wasn’t Lord Laurent’s bastard.

You had been raised in the keep of Herely Heath since infancy, following the death of your biological mother during childbirth. Luckily, Lady Juliene Laurent (the woman you knew as ‘mother) didn’t resent you enough not to raise you; with 6 boys, she was happy to raise a girl. Unfortunately, her dream of dressing you up in pretty gowns and styling your hair in a beautiful way was soon dashed when she realised that you were different. You wore your brothers’ old clothes  due to loathing the long, girly dresses your mother insisted you wore. Your hair was often made messy by the wind and rain in which you insisted in playing. Your personality was more brash and confident than what was expected of a young girl, and the daughter of a lord. 

The commoners, unlike your family, seemed to judge you and mock you to themselves for who you were. You heard their whispers about you, the chubby bastard being raised like the legitimate child of a lord and lady. Most other lords and ladies would be disgusted that their daughter, illegitimate or not, wanted to fight, but, instead, your father and mother were surprisingly supportive of your choices, even when commoners and several other lords and ladies passed judgement upon you.

As you learned how to fight with a sword from such a young age, you became easily one of the best sword-fighters in Westeros. Though you weren’t as good as Jaime Lannister, you could certainly give him a run for his money. Like your half-brothers, your skills were on par with that of an accomplished knight. That’s why when you turned 11, instead of marrying you off to a wealthy prospective lord, your father decided to send you off to Winterfell to begin serving his old friend, Ned Stark.

Though you were a bastard, you were still the daughter of a Lord. Your father insisted that you were escorted to Winterfell, less than a day’s travel on horseback away from Herely Heath, by three members of his guard, but you insisted he let you travel alone because, in your words: “A true fighter need not be protected.”

Your arrival at Winterfell was a welcome one by all of the Starks. You were the same age as Robb and Jon, both of whom initially doubted your abilities as a sword fighter. With Lord Stark’s permission, you engaged in combat with both of them and won within half a minute. While Jon revered you as a worthy opponent, Robb was mesmerised by you. With the tip of your blade to his throat and your foot resting on his torso, Robb looked up at you with complete admiration. From that moment, you were close with both the Snow boy and Stark boy, even if one viewed you in a whole different light to the other. The fact that you were a bastard always helped you relate to Jon and be close with him and have a strong, platonic bond, but you could surprisingly connect with Robb, especially when he requested that you teach him how to be a better fighter.

When you and Robb were 14, Robb gained a better understanding of you than he ever had before. He learned why you were the way that you were.

It was late at night, and you and Robb were training by fire light. Yet again, you had him pinned to the ground.

“Your stance made you lose balance.” you informed him, extending your hand to him to help him up. “And, you were holding your sword too low down, so I could kick it out of your hand. If I wanted to kill you, I could’ve killed you. Imagine: Robb Stark killed by a fat bastard girl.”

“Alright; no need to keep bringing it up.” Robb muttered, sitting up and taking your hand. “You always do that.”

“Do what?” you asked bluntly, pulling him up with a little bit of difficulty.

“Tell me that you could’ve killed me and that you beat me and then say you’re a ‘fat bastard girl’.” Robb answered.

“You’d be smug about it too if you were a fat bastard girl defeating the legitimate son of a lord.” you said, folding your arms. 

Rob frowned and looked at you, a bemused expression on his scuffed-up face. He was silent, something in the back of his mind telling him that you weren’t finished talking.

“If I wish to wield a sword and pierce the flesh of my enemies instead of be forced please a wealthy man in a loveless marriage and produce a dozen children, I have to prove myself as more than Lord Laurent’s fat bastard girl to everyone whose watching me.” You glanced up at Rob. “What’s the eldest son of Lord Eddard Stark got to prove when nobody’ll judge him for what he was born as?”

Robb was silent still. Yet again, he sensed that you weren’t quite done, and he was alright with that. He’d never thought of you, the brave and cunning (Y/N) Laurent, as just a fat bastard girl, but he knew, deep down, he’d never be able to prove to you that you weren’t just that.

“I was born as a fat bastard girl, but I want to die as more than that.” you responded. “When I die, I want to be remembered as something more than just Laurent’s fat bastard girl.”

You were done, Robb thought to himself. It was his turn to speak.

“Is that why you picked up a sword?” Robb asked.

“Of course not. I was three; I didn’t care about honour and victory when I was three. I just thought sword fighting looked better than drinking tea with mother.” you replied, causing Robb to snort a laugh.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“You’ll always be more than a fat bastard girl to me, (Y/N).” Robb stated.

“I know that.” you said in an unconvincing response. “It’s getting late. We’d better go back inside before your mother shouts at us.”

From that day on, Robb was aware that, in spite of how you presented yourself, you were insecure. You weren’t as self-assured as you acted, but you only broke down in private. That was until you had followed Robb to war.

Robb had appointed you second-in-command after him, knowing you could and would be a good leader.

However, the incredulous men who gawked, sneered and laughed at you didn’t share the same idea. For one, you were a woman. Somehow, your lack of testicles meant that you were unworthy of having any authority over them. Two, you were fat. Being fat meant that they just couldn’t resist the urge to not mock you. They didn’t even have to know you were a bastard to make up their minds that you weren’t good enough to lead them. Even when you’d slaughtered one of your foes before their eyes, they didn’t take you seriously. To you, they represented everyone, which meant that no one would take you seriously as a fighter.

They’d literally snort at you when they thought you weren’t listening. They’d roll their eyes at you when they thought you weren’t looking. Within weeks, you were sick of it.

You snapped.

“Any man to show me any disrespect regarding my appearance gets his heart torn out by their own sword! Do I make myself clear?” you yelled.

They all cackled at you. You clenched your jaw. 

A young man sat close to you made a pig squealing noise, causing a louder eruption of laughter.

You stormed over to him, effortlessly unsheathed his sword and pointed the tip of the blade at his chest, now rapidly rising and falling in panic. The laughter was drowned out by silence. The young man looked up at you, his eyes filled with the fear of a man about to die.

“Didn’t you hear me?” you demanded. “Or could you just not understand me?”

“I-I...Um-um-” he stammered out. “I-I...W-well-”

“I’m sorry; am I not making any sense? Am I speaking in Valyrian?” you demanded.

“N-No! I-I-I’m really s-sorry, m’lady-” he stuttered out, tears spilling from his eyes. “P-Please, don’t-”

“I could skewer you and make an example out of you, or I could show you mercy and be weakened by your pathetic display of grovelling.” you said, pretending to think aloud. “Laurents, legitimate or not, are never ones to spew empty threats. If I don’t tear your heart out with your own sword, I wouldn���t be a very good Laurent, would I?”

“P-please, m’lady. I beg for mercy!” the man pleaded, body wracking with sobs.

“Only the weak show mercy. I told you that anyone else to show disrespect towards my appearance would have his heart extracted by their own sword, did I not?” you demanded.

“Y-y-yes, m’lady. B-But, I was only j-joking-”

“Oh, my sincerest apologies then, sweetheart! I didn’t realise you were only joking.” you responded, thick sarcasm laced in your voice. “Joking or not, it’s still disrespect. All my life, disposable, loathsome fools like you have disrespected me because of my weight. Even when threatened with death, idiots will still do all they can to wrench a laugh from those around them. When I explicitly stated defiance would lead to death, why should I spare you?”

“Because, I forbid you from doing so.” an authoritative voice said, approaching you from behind.

“Robb? What are you doing?” you questioned, trying to sound as confident as possible.

Robb looked at the young man whose chest was being prodded by the sword in your hand, then looked up as if to address anyone with a cold look in his eyes. “If any of you refuse to show Lady Laurent your respect, you’ll have to answer to me. Is that understood?” Robb loudly demanded.

“Yes, Lord Stark!” the soldiers shouted in unison. 

Robb grabbed the sword from your hand and threw it to the ground. He grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you in tow as he marched you to his now-empty tent.

“What was that?” he demanded, folding his arms as he glared at you.

“They were all being cunts to me, making pig noises and commenting about me behind my back, so I threatened them with death. That scrawny little prick disobeyed me, so I was prepared to skewer him.” you shrugged, suppressing the urge to just break down about everything that had been overwhelming you as of late.

“You can’t just kill people who mock you, (Y/N).” Robb sighed irritably

“Why not? I have a sword, skill, authority and a general disdain for those expendable cunts. I could massacre half of them if I pleased.” you sneered bitterly, looking Robb in the eyes.

“I know you, (Y/N). I also know you weren’t going to go through with ending that boy’s life. You don’t have to act like you can choose if those men out there live or die.” he said, approaching you as he placed his hands on your shoulders.

You looked away from him, folding your arms. “Shut up.”

“If you think they’re just expendable cunts, why let them get into your head?” Robb questioned.

You felt tears brim your eyes as you bit your bottom lip and said nothing. 

“(Y/N).” Robb said firmly.

You exhaled. “I’ve been treated like shit since I was a kid because of who I am. I thought having authority would earn me some respect, but still they view me as nothing more than a fat bastard girl.” you explained, tears falling. “If they can’t see that I’m not just a fat bastard girl, how am I supposed to convince myself that that’s not just what I am?”

You felt a firm grip find itself around your waist, the warmth of Robb’s furs warming your freezing cheeks. Reluctantly, you wrapped your arms around Robb’s torso. A few moments later, he pulled away just enough so he could look at your face.

“(N/N), you’ve never just been a fat bastard girl.” Robb assured you, softening from the stoic facade he’d worn to intimidate the soldiers. “I learned that when you beat me in that fight when we were kids. (Y/N), never let those people make you feel anything less than what you actually are.”

“What am I actually, then?” you asked incredulously, damp cheeks heating up. Robb holding you so firmly made you feel a little more secure. Of course, you didn’t need Robb to protect you, nor could he raise your self-esteem. But, he’d always been good at making you feel a little better than crap. 

“You’re a confident fighter, a strong opponent, a beautiful woman.” Robb responded. The sincerity in his speech and the emotion in his eyes that bore into your soul was enough to melt any reluctance to accept his words as anything other than true.

“Don’t use my vulnerability to get me into bed, Robb.” you insisted jokingly in an attempt to show him that what he’d said had made you feel a little better.

He chuckled and smiled faintly as you, wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers. Of all the people you’d met in your time away from home, Robb had been the one to see you in this state the most. He was never annoyed nor inconvenienced by it. In fact, he felt privileged to be the one you trusted enough to come to in times of distress. 

“I’ve been in love with you since the first time you pointed a sword at my throat. Did you know that, (N/N)?” Robb said, not entirely thinking. Still, he was bold enough to speak such words. 

You shrugged, masking your surprise and childish urge to fangirl. “I suppose so.” you responded. “Before I say that I love you too, can I tell you something else?”

“Of course.” he replied.

“Don’t ever undermine me in front of anyone again, or I’ll skewer you like a pig being roasted over a fire.” you said with a smirk, half-joking.

“Understood, my lady.” he replied with a smirk, half-frightened.

#robb stark #robb stark x plus size!reader #robb stark x chubby!reader #robb stark x reader #game of thrones #got #game of thrones x chubby!reader #game of thrones x plus size! reader #game of thrones x reader #one-shot #fanfiction #imagine

[thehermitsaltar]

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

Can’t Help Falling in love 

Pie’s

𝐏𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥

1970

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”  

Wampa Soup

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 —

— 𝑪𝒐𝒓𝒑𝒔𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅

How do you feel about dogs?

Cold Corpse

“Person A and Person B assembling furniture together”

Corpse x Male reader

— 𝑬𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑵𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓

New Years Eve

“I remember practicing how to ask you out to the mirror.”

Unus Annus

Ethans cute tbh

“Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.”

— 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒓

E-plier x male reader

“You’re here late.”

Yancy x male reader

— 𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑴𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏

“Male reader x Robb Stark Christmas?”

cold mornings

"Quit smiling at me, I can't stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that."

Robb reassuring a male reader who’s insecure abt how chubby he is

Baby Wolf

"I can't get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you're having breakfast with me in my sweater."

Fever

Richard likes The Beatles

Richard dating someone with a kid

“Please don’t do this.”

“You’ve shown me what love can feel like.”

— 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝑬𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒐𝒏

It’ll be okay

Wanna, like- Imean, if you're not busy... We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don't have a lot of time?"

“I like the way your hand fits in mine.”

“This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?”

“I would’ve had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I look forward to holding you close in bed soon.”

— 𝐁𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐲

— 𝑱𝒐𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒛𝒛𝒆𝒍𝒐

“Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn’t help but steal it”

angst blurb where pat Murray gets into an argument with his bf

20 and 28 for the meet cute

“Against a wall” (NSFW)

“Face-fucking” (NSFW)

“Oral giving”  (NSFW)

“How they are as a dad”

— 𝐺𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑦𝑚 𝐿𝑒𝑒

“Sharing an umbrella at a bus stop as it snows.”

— 𝐵𝑒𝑛 𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑦

  (NSFW)

“I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.”  (NSFW)

“They caught you when you slipped on ice and nearly fell over.”

“I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.”

“You both go to the counter, having the same type of coffee called for pick-up. “

#adam driver #Pedro Pascal #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #ben hardy #taron egerton #Richard Madden #ethan nestor #corpse husband #x male reader #male reader #masterlist

[ao3feed-buckybarnes]

𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 (𝐱𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2CA1Chv

by Jessica_Whitlock

Hello fellow sinners! This book is dedicated to Smut! I do take requests, the only thing I ask is that your requests to be an x reader. Have fun ;)

Words: 10580, Chapters: 6/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Multi-Fandom

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, Multi

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Blaise Zabini, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Robb Stark, Jon Snow

Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Harry Potter/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Reader, Blaise Zabini/Reader

Additional Tags: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Aftercare, Magic, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Pining Draco Malfoy, Veela Draco Malfoy, Professor Draco Malfoy, Possessive Tom Riddle, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, Reader-Insert, Forbidden Love, Older Man/Younger Woman, Polyamory

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2CA1Chv

#bucky #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #james barnes

[myriadimagines]

Picturesque Moment

Game of Thrones One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Bran Stark

Other Characters: –

Warnings: –

Requester: anonymous

Request: “Could I get a one shot for Bran Stark? I was thinking the plot could be that the two of you are married and Bran is telling you about the visions he saw of your future. He sees the two of you still happily together but with children. You don’t believe him at first, as you were sure he was unable to produce an heir, but Bran places a hand on your stomach and says that you are pregnant now. Sure enough, you deliver a baby 9 months later. I hope this is worthy enough of your talents lol”

Word Count: 1,028

A/N: Hope it’s alright!! In my mind this is set like years after the shitshow that is S8

please reblog/leave comments, they’re very much appreciated!

Your name: submit What is this?

King Bran. Bran the Broken. Three-Eyed Raven. All titles you still have yet to become accustomed to, despite having been married to Bran for years. Even as King, even being the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms, to you, Bran will always be the young boy in the North you grew up with, will always be the doe-eyed, shaggy haired boy you loved to explore Winterfell with, no tree or tower too tall for the two of you to climb.

Despite being together for as long as you can remember, you and Bran had gotten married not long after he had been crowned King, as it seemed only natural to officiate your relationship and make you his Queen. You are just as fit for your position as Bran is, having been through and all the trauma humanly possible and surviving. All the skills you’ve accumulated over time makes you a proficient Queen, one who is loved by all, and together, you and Bran rule over the Kingdoms in hopes to rectify and rebuild the kingdoms torn apart and ravaged by years of war.  

Your guard pushes open the heavy doors of your bedroom, quietly closing it behind you as you pace across the room, stopping at Bran’s side where he is peering out at the city below him from your arched windows. He looks up at you, offering you a small smile as you ask, “Deep in thought, my love?” 

He shrugs, turning his attention back out onto the city. “I had a vision.”

“A vision?” you echo in surprise, lowering yourself into a nearby chair as you lean closer to Bran. He nods, a vague expression drifting onto his features that you can’t quite decipher, but an expression you are familiar with. There are days where Bran remains a mystery to you, a dense fog infiltrating your chambers that you can’t quite find him through. He is a knowing smile, a smile that holds secrets that you will never know, a smile that is aware of something that the Gods granted only Bran the knowledge to. You love your husband, yet there are days where you wish he was more transparent, more open to you about the things he can hear and see that no one else is privy to.   

“Yes.” Bran confirms, finally turning to meet your eyes. You can’t tell from the impartial look on his face the nature of his vision, whether it is a good one or, may the Gods have mercy, a bad one. He studies your face for a few seconds, eyes narrowing ever so slightly before he reveals, “It was about us.”

You lean even closer, hanging on the edge of his few words. You feel short of breath, your heart pounding madly in your chest as you anxiously wait for Bran to continue. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn Bran found the tension entertaining. Reaching over to place a reassuring hand over yours, Bran quashes your worries as he states, “We’re still together. Very happily.”

You finally let out a small breath, still feeling your heart fluttering in a frenzy. The smile lingers on Bran’s lips, his vision playing in front of him again. The two of you, aged every so slightly but your youthful smiles remaining. Sunlight streams the thin curtains, illuminating the room in a soft, golden light, a ring of light outlining your body. You are perched on the edge of your bed as Bran sits opposite you in his wheelchair, mirroring your beaming smile. A small blanket is bundled in your arms, and you coo softly at it as you cradle it in your embrace.

A child. A cheerful child bubbling with laughter as it reaches a chubby hand up towards you.

Another laugh from the corner of the room. You and Bran turn to see a young boy run towards the two of you, clutching a wooden sword as he rushes to Bran’s side, hugging his leg as he cranes her neck, eager to catch a glimpse of the new addition to the family.

A family. A beautiful, joyous family in a picturesque moment that is your soon to be future.

“We have children.” Bran finally reveals, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. You scoff ever so slightly, pulling your hand away from Bran’s. He watches as you lean away from him, in clear disbelief, and Bran continues, “A boy first. Then a baby girl.”

“Bran,” you croak out, expression softening. “You can’t have children. We can’t have children”

His smile, his smile, immediately reminds you that he is the Three-Eyed Raven for a reason, and that he sees the things no one else does. Reaching for you, his places his hand on your stomach, his palm pressing against you as you hold your breath.

“y/n,” he says quietly, his touch warming your skin under the thin fabric of your dress. “We already do.”

—

Your baby boy cries out, small limbs flailing as the maid gently rests him in your arms. Sweat plasters your hair to your face, tears stinging your eyes from the pain, yet it all disappears as you feel the warmth of your newborn child in your arms. You smile, laughing with relief and happiness as you whisper a hello to your child, gently tracing a finger along his stomach as you rock him up and down. Bran sits at your bedside, leaned forward as his arms rest on the edge of your bed. He smiles as you angle your baby towards him, weakly sitting up for Bran to get a better glimpse.

Despite seeing the scene in his visions, Bran can’t help but note that it is even more beautiful experiencing it in person. 

He gently strokes the baby’s head, his voice low as he says, “Hello there.”

You bend down, nuzzling your nose against your son’s. “What should we name him?”

The answer comes almost instantly, almost naturally, to Bran. The man who cared for him, who he looked up to and admired for most of his childhood. The Young Wolf, the King in the North before his untimely death, “Robb. Robb Stark.”

tags: @chinike / @gofandomsandotherstuff / @emmacata / @pascalisthepunkest / @musicallisto ↳ want to be added to the tag list?

#got imagine #bran stark imagine #got #got one shot #bran stark #bran stark one shot #reader x bran stark #bran stark x reader #imagine #imagines #reader insert #one shot #oneshot

[meganlpie]

Important Announcement- Please read

Hello lovelies! So, I’ve lately gotten a lot of asks on both blogs asking if I’m alright since my posts have been even more sporadic and it takes me longer to answer asks. I decided to address them all at the same time :) 

I am perfectly fine, lovelies. Better than actually. With the holidays, wedding, and move, life’s been crazy and it’s only going to get crazier! My husband and I recently discovered that we’re HAVING A BABY!! 

Needless to say, I spend a lot of time resting and ‘pregnant brain” is a real thing! It makes it difficult to focus on just about anything, even writing. That being said, I am determined to get y’all’s requests done! I am working through them slowly. However, if I haven’t done your request already, feel free to take it to another blog. I will understand completely. Just let me know so i can remove your requests from the list. I have a list of ones that I’ve already written or started in my drafts!

Ones already written/started but not posted yet:

Anonymous asked: Meg, I’d love for you to continue TToBB whenever you can! As for a request, could I please get a Steve Rogers one? Preserum!Steve is in love with Bucky’s other best friend, who’s a girl. But Steve being Steve, doesn’t really know how to talk to her, but she thinks he’s adorably sweet and maybe asks him to draw her as a present for someone? I’d like some angst and fluff, please????

Anonymous asked: I think I may have requested this to you before, when requests weren’t open. So, sorry for asking twice. A tony stark x reader. Reader is peter parker’s sister and is now dating tony stark. Peter finds out and things get awkward. But then reader finds out peter is spider-man. And aunt may finds out both things. And everything is just awkward and funny. Thanks! :)

Anonymous asked: Loki x reader Au where her flight is delayed and she asks to sit with him whilst she waits and they spend hours in the airport cafe talking then when she has to go, they’re both kinda sad and keep telling others they wished they’d got numbers or emails but then it turns out they meet again at the airport?

Anonymous asked: Congrats, Meg! Can I get a Halloween request?? I know it’ll probably be after Halloween before it’s posted, but idc. I was hoping to get a Dean x fem!reader where she tries to convince Dean to go trick-or-treating in family costumes (they have a couple little ones) and maybe Sam agrees to go too and helps convince Dean into going??

Anonymous asked: Hiya Meg! Could I request a Tony x plus-sized!reader? Maybe where she’s trying to lose weight so she feels worthy of Tony, but he tells her that he loves her no matter what?? However, she’s insistent, so he helps her??

Anonymous asked: I’m looking forward to the Down with Love AU!!! I was hoping I could get some Crowley too? Maybe the reader, who helps Sam and Dean with research, strikes a deal with Crowley. He needs some arm candy to get a deal with some powerful people. She agrees but she has a condition. He has to take her out anywhere and anytime she wants.(Basically, she tricks him into dating her) She loves him and hopes that their deal will make him fall in love with her. Does this make sense??

May I make a request for a fic (one shot it multi chapter; whatever you like best.) where the reader is from the real world and has read all the books and gets put into the GOT world, and uses her knowledge to gain power by claiming to be a seer. But is careful never to reveal or change too much? Maybe she shows up in Winterfell just before the king arrives (like season one?) I’m not really sure who the pairing should be? Maybe keep it open? Or if you have a favorite it could be them! @iheartthelochnessmonster

Congrats on the wedding, Meg! And I am so excited that requests are open! May I request a Robb Stark x fem!Reader (platonic)? (Y/N) is in love with Jon, but he leaves for the wall. Robb is best friends with her and he decides to propose to her, thinking it’s the right thing to do since Jon is gone. She politely declines as she wants Robb to be able to fall in love with someone rather than settling to cheer her up. Maybe (Y/N) eventually reunites with Jon? I hope this makes sense! lol @a-girl-who-loves-disney

Part 4 of “At the Gym”

Hey lovely! Can I please request a Jamie x reader where they are set up together and Jamie is trying to be Lordly etc to win her over but everything goes wrong so she’s thinking maybe this isn’t going to work but he ends up being like let’s just drop the formalities and do something different, she goes along with it and they hit it off? Xx

Based on this request: hello! could you write a jorah x fem targaryan reader where jorah’s jealousy gets the best of him and they both end up confessing their feelings for each other? thanks in advance and I love your writing!!

May I request s tormund giantsbane x reader where the reader is a lady fighter in the BoBs and Tormund watches her the whole time making sure she’s alright and later on after the fight he won’t leave her alone until she confronts him in a hallway by pinning him to the wall and Tormund is so happy about this girl he loves that he just kisses her there Idk how to end it I’m sorry but thank you love!

So so so happy about your wedding!!! Congrats and hope the move goes well, So so happy requests are open again, if it’s not too much of a bother for you, could I get a sandor x chubby!reader where while he is at winterfell he meets her when one of her many dogs runs up to him for affection and stuff ( as dogs do ) and she comes running after the dog then they meet, like she and her family run a sort of kennel and you can go on from there, apologies if I’m controlling the plot a bit, once again if it isn’t too much trouble and once again best wishes for your move xoxoxo @gothpieceofcrap

Plus several Wattpad requests

If you don’t see your request here and it hasn’t been posted yet, please feel free to take your request elsewhere and just let me know. I apologize for taking so long to get these done :/ Lots of love!

-Meg

#important #meg writes #or tries to

[thefanficfaerie]

Weekly Reading List 40

Weekly Recommendations get posted every Thursday. All stories are character x reader unless otherwise stated. Graphic by the awesome @wonders-of-the-enterprise.

Tropes Canon DIvergence In Times of War by @kalliria Steve Rogers 

Soulmate AU Operation Soulmate Part 7/Part 8/Part 9 by @a-splash-of-stucky Steve Rogers No Sleep Til Brooklyn Part 10 by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord Steve Rogers

Daddy!Character Super Soldier’s Super Son by @oneshot-twoshot-redshot-blueshot male!reader Little Miracle by @karl-urban-imagines Eomer  Very Special Agent Papa DiNozzo Part 7by @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps Tony DiNozzo

A/B/O Dynamics Heating Up by @angryschnauzer Steve Rogers

Modern AU Take My Breath Away by @mywritingsblog Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes Finding Home Part 7 by @promarvelfangirl Steve Rogers The First Meeting by @kalliria Steve Rogers  Three’s Company by @captain-rogers-beard Steve Rogers The Letter ‘R’ by @pandaheart2 Steve Rogers Thin Walls by @pandaheart2 Steve Rogers Lion on Ice by @megsironthrone Robb Stark Timing by @waywardimpalawriter Steve Rogers

Wonder Woman Steve Trevor Don’t Let Me Go Tonight Part 2 by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord​

Game of Thrones Robb Stark Lady Wolf by @mylittlefandomfanfictions

Jon Snow Little One by @rhaenyx

Avengers Steve Rogers Cliche by @fandomsandotherstuff Crash and Burn 7 8 9 10 by @itsanerdlife Stressed Over You by @pandaheart2 Late Night Cake by @pandaheart2 Don’t Tell Him by @just-a-humble-fangirl Sledgehammer Part 15 by @tilltheendwilliwrite NSFW Never Again by @floatingpetals In The Moment by @floatingpetals Without You by @buckys-shield​

Tony Stark Hey I’ve Got You by @shitty-imagines-95 Iron Man and Mrs. King Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen by @goodnightwife   Howard by @imagine-assembling-the-avengers   Private Collection by @tilltheendwilliwrite Rituals by @buckys-shield

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Til Death Do Us Part by @shitty-imagines-95 As Long As You Both Shall Live by @shitty-imagines-95 How Could We Choose Part 5 by @shitty-imagines-95 We Are Your Family by @hellomissmabel Lost In Paradise by @kellieabro NSFW Fuel to Fire Part 4 by @avasparks

Law and Order: SVU Rafael Barba Inside Your Head by @writefasttalkevenfaster Failure by @writefasttalkevenfaster Deserve by @writefasttalkevenfaster The Line by @writefasttalkevenfaster

Star Trek Jim Kirk Marriage Material Part 12/Part 13 by @enterprisewriting

Leonard McCoy Haphephobia by @pinkamour1588 Nice and Slow by @iguess-theyre-mymess 

McKirk Make Me by @auduna-druitt NSFW The Shape of Us by @thevalesofanduin Heartbeat by @auduna-druitt NSFW A Very Good Morning by @pinkamour1588 NSFW Sun and Moon by @dreaming-about-starfleet

Jim x Reader X Bones

NCIS Tony DiNozzo

Misc Fandoms *Soft Thighs by QueenoftheHobbits Bucky Barnes  3 AM by @dramaticdonuts Jason Bull  Let’s Play a Game Part 3/Part 4  by @imoutofmyvulcanmind John Kennex Bull Masterlist by @misscharliebradbury Jason Bull Not My Recital by @ohbelieveyoume Rafael Barba x OC  My Eyes Part 13 by @invisibleanonymousmonsters Bucky Barnes Home by @goingknowherewastaken Bernie Webber

Chris Evans Imagine you and Chris going on midnight drive by @ohevansmycaptain New Beginnings Part 1/Part 2/Part 3 by @my-emotional-self Chubby Thighs by @hellomissmabel The Big Visit by @ihaveavengersbedsheets Age is Just a Number by @whatstruthgottodowithit More Than Just a Fling PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8,PART 9,PART 10, PART 11,  EPILOGUE Bonus by @whatstruthgottodowithit   Moments and Memories by @always-an-evans-addict He Followed Me Home Part 2 by @sian22redux

Mood Boards Lazy Mornings  For All to Hear

*These are stories I have not read but have been recommended to me. 

tags: (strikethrought I cant tag) @thelawschooldiva @outside-the-government@isaxhorror @rayleyanns  @sistasarah-sallysaidso @grumpykate @auduna-druitt @engineeringtrashcan @impalaanddemons @dirajunara @the-space-goddess-16 @catbutsfurrever @a-girl-who-loves-disney @pinkamour1588 @fangirlinglikeamentalpatient

#weekly reading list #Steve Rogers #tony stark #rafael barba #Leonard McCoy #jim kirk #jason bull #tony dinozzo #chris evans #john kennex #Bucky Barnes #modern au #bernie webber #soulmate au #a/b/o dynamics #canon divergence #eomer #steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #rafael barba x reader #leonard mccoy x reader #jim kirk x reader #jason bull x reader #chris evans x reader #john kennex x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bernie webber x reader

[nao-hime]

Unbroken {i}

Warnings: This story contains sexual content and crude language. There will be no sex scenes, but there are explicit mentions of brothels and sex, considering that the reader is a whore. If you are sensitive to stuff like this, please do not read this story as it will have a lot of it.

Pairing(s): Jon Snow x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Recently, I’ve found myself obsessed with A Song of Ice and Fire. I began reading the book and I have not been able to stop! I wanted to write a reader insert for it, as I do for most all series that I love. I hope you all enjoy this story! I love the Song of Ice and Fire series, so I really wanted to write some reader inserts for it. This doesn’t follow the show, so Jon will be fourteen instead of sixteen, but from what I’ve heard, the show pretty much follows the books so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue. However, if something is different, then you’ll know why.

Despite being a young girl of twelve—soon to be thirteen— [y/n] never cried. Not when she was backhanded by Ivarn, not when men shoved their hands down her bodice, not even when she was forced to press her face against the pillow as clients thrusted from behind. Not a single tear had trailed down her face ever since she arrived at Mole’s Town, enlisted to be a whore for the brothels. [y/n] had vowed to never cry or show weakness ever again. It was her downfall once; she would not allow it to happen twice.

“Kiyara! Illeyna! Look your best!” barked Ivarn to the clamoring crowd of whores. Kiyara, a black-skinned woman of five-and-twenty years, donned a transparent green gown that made the emerald choker at her throat sparkle even more. Illeyna was quite the opposite of the Asshai’i woman. With fair hair, eyes, and complexion, Illeyna was six years younger than Kiyara, yet she appeared just as elegant in her light pink robes. They were by far the most favored whores of Mole’s Town.

[y/n] had no idea why Ivarn was so anxious for Kiyara and Illeyna to look their best, but she did not want to find out why. When Ivarn expected much from those two, he tended to expect much from the rest of the whores, and if they did not keep up with Kiyara or Illeyna, they would feel Ivarn’s wrath the next day, which usually took form in bruises and marks. These had to be covered up, of course.

Though she wasn’t the most popular girl at the brothel, [y/n] never spent a night without a man inside of her. Most of the clients—nearly all of them, in fact—were brothers or recruits of the Night’s Watch. They were permitted to satisfy their needs, in spite of the oath they made. A few young boys close to her own age paid for [y/n], but it was mainly older men who requested her. She supposed that when death was gaping at you from the other side of the Wall, the age of a ripe whore didn’t matter.

When [y/n] lost her maidenhood for the first time, she had been paid a whole golden dragon, which was more than what she normally earned. Of course, she didn’t get to keep the money; it went straight to Ivarn, the brothel owner.

[y/n] had hoped to sneak by Ivarn, simply wanting to prepare herself in her own chambers, but the stout man noticed her immediately. She swore that he was part dog, considering how well he could smell the fear on someone.

“You call that whorish?” Ivarn snarled. With one great motion, he shoved a hand towards her chest and tugged her blouse down, revealing the little cleavage she had. [y/n] had never been more grateful that she was an early bloomer; any later, and Ivarn probably would have thrown her out for her lack of breasts. “Benjen Stark is coming back from Winterfell, and I hear he has a batch of new recruits. You better make me some coin, otherwise you’ll find yourself chewing off your fingers for food!”

Whereas Kiyara, Illeyna and some of the more well-liked wenches were dressed in luxurious dresses—as luxurious as they could be for the north—[y/n] was forced to wear the same outfit she had worn since she had first arrived. It was a yellow corset that dipped to reveal the cleavage, though [y/n] preferred to cover herself when Ivarn wasn’t around. A dark green skirt, torn at the hem, was slitted at the sides to display her slender thighs, while tall laced boots stretched up to her knees. She was required to wash it herself, or else Ivarn would beat her bloody and lock her in her room without a meal.

As [y/n] weaved through the groups of whores, she listened carefully to the gossip that passed their ruby colored lips.

“I hear he brought his nephew with him.”

“You mean Robb? Such a shame, that boy is destined for lordship.”

“Of course not. His other nephew…the bastard.”

[y/n] wasn’t too familiar with the north or its families. All she knew were the Starks, for they were notorious symbols of the northern land in Westeros, and her knowledge of them was quite limited. She supposed that these women received their information from their clients, those who were too intoxicated to think about what they were letting slip. [y/n] never got conversation in the confines of her room; she usually ended up with the men who were too slow or poor to afford the desired wenches and took their anger out on her.

The whispers followed her all the way until she closed the door to her chambers. Unlit candles littered the surfaces of tabletops, just waiting to be kindled. Perfumes and fragrances permeated the room so strongly that it stung [y/n]’s eyes. It was one of the smaller rooms, but her bed was still comfortable. After all, it needed to please the client, and how could she do that if they were on a stiff mattress?

She sat in front of the vanity whose cracked mirror distorted her reflection. [y/n] vividly remembered the day that Ivarn hurled a ceramic cup at her head, resulting in the fracture that she saw today. If [y/n] had ducked even a second late, it would’ve been her head that suffered instead of the glass. Thankfully, one of the whores had been able to snatch Ivarn’s attention away long enough to make him forget he was ever mad at [y/n]. To this day, [y/n] was still unsure what exactly Ivarn had been furious about, but she assumed it had to do with her performance.

[y/n] powdered her face enough to conceal the bruise on her cheek that was still healing from Ivarn’s strike a few days prior. It was fading, but its green-yellow hue was unmistakable. The only makeup she had to enhance her face was a red lipstick. Ivarn bestowed lavish gifts upon his favorites, such as dresses and makeup, while leaving the rest out to dry. [y/n] had given up a long time ago on pleasing him. Her purpose was to survive, not to satisfy some fat man whose fingers were so chubby that his jeweled rings were permanently attached.

The thought of being shared among men due to her popularity caused a shudder to traipse down her spine. [y/n] much preferred her invisibility.

If there was one thing that Ivarn liked about her, it was that she could play the wood harp better than any of the other girls. [y/n] would pluck at the strings in the hall until one of the men paid Ivarn for her, whether or not it was due to her music. Ivarn tended to forget this talent, however, but when it benefitted him, he rewarded her with warm pudding the next day. The prospect of pudding was the only thing that motivated her to do her very best.

[y/n] reached for the wood harp leaning against her vanity and tuned the instrument. Normally, the strings would burn novice’s fingers, but hers were calloused and hardened due to years of practice. Now, she barely felt the pain. The wooden harp was her only belonging; it had taken a lot of begging to convince Ivarn to allow her to keep it. [y/n] didn’t know what she would have done if he had tossed it in the fire as he had threatened. It was the only thing tethering her to her past. Without it, [y/n] would have forgotten who she was.

“[y/n].” [y/n] turned to see Riya in the doorway, poking her blonde head through the threshold. “They’ve arrived.”

[y/n] followed Riya into the hall, which was already filled with Night’s Watch men and recruits alike. But their focus was not on their regular clients; no, Ivarn had ordered them to seduce Benjen Stark’s group. The First Ranger was not among them, as expected of such an honorable man, but his young boys were present, along with someone that even [y/n] knew.

“The Imp,” muttered Kathryne distastefully. “What is he doing here?”

“Who cares?” Yasmin said. “He’s a Lannister, and the brother of the queen; surely he’s got money on him.”

“Maybe he’ll pick you, [y/n],” Riya jested, though [y/n] could detect the thinly veiled insult. “You’d suit the ugly little man well.”

Rather than granting Riya and the others the pleasure of seeing how they affected her, [y/n] pushed past the taller woman and positioned herself by the fireplace, which was closest to the infamous dwarf. Though [y/n] had never seen him before, she had heard stories of his hideous appearance and now she could definitely see why. His mismatched eyes scanned the room lustily, narrowed below a thick set of brows. A thick bush of brown hair covered the lecherous grin tugging at his lips. His short legs dangled from his seat, but he had the bearing of a confident man. [y/n] had no idea how he accomplished such a feat. Seated beside him was a boy who could not have been much older than herself with black hair and matching eyes, who appeared very uncomfortable—almost loathsome—to be in the brothel.

No matter how frightful Tyrion Lannister was, Yasmin was correct. He was rich. If [y/n] could entice him to her, Ivarn would shower her with praise for weeks. He was her goal, and [y/n] intended to achieve it.

[y/n] began to play a tune that was taught to her years ago, yet it was still fresh in her memory. The lyrics passed her lips easily, allowing her to turn her gaze to the Imp. She caught his eye and twisted the corners of her mouth into a sultry smile. Triumph swelled in her chest when he returned it, and even pointed her out to his young companion. If she strained her ears, [y/n] could pick out the conversation.

“See her, Snow? She’s young, but she’s experienced. Those are the best kind.”

“How could you possibly know that?” The black-haired male grimaced.

“She knows how to play a man just like that harp of hers.” That statement only served to amplify [y/n]’s pride even more. Soon, she would saunter over and place herself in his lap, and he would be hers. Or, rather, the other way around. “Unfortunately, my eye is already placed on that one.”

[y/n] frowned. She followed his gaze to where Kiyara poured wine from her flagon into the goblet of a brother of the black. The dark-skinned beauty giggled when he slipped his hand up her skirt, and she playfully swatted it away.

She ceased her song and ambled over to the pair, swaying her hips as she did so. Tyrion tore his gaze away from Kiyara to look at [y/n], while the boy averted his eyes bashfully.

“Milord,” she greeted, as any whore should of a lord. “It is an honor to be in your presence.”

“And a pleasure to be in yours. May I have the honor of asking your name, sweetling?”

“[y/n], milord. Did you enjoy my song?”

Whores possessed their own language, flirting with clients through seemingly casual banter. Most men understood this, especially regulars, but it appeared as if the boy had pieced together her sly remark, if the growing blush was any indication. Meanwhile, Tyrion Lannister was more than pleased by her subtleties.

“Your tongue was marvelous. I’m sure that it is skilled in other aspects, as well.”

[y/n] giggled. “Would you care to try it out, milord?”

“Quite.” Tyrion gestured. At first, [y/n] thought he was motioning her forward, but when Ivarn waddled over to the table, [y/n] realized she had won him. Ivarn clasped his hands together, bowing hastily to the dwarfish lord, and sputtered out praise. “Good man, I would like to purchase this fair girl for an hour.”

“An hour, yes, yes. But milord—” squeaked Ivarn. [y/n] could discern the greed swimming in Ivarn’s dark eyes. Hopefully, he wouldn’t forget who exactly had earned him this fortune. “We have other fine ladies who could suit your needs for a night…”

Indignation flared in [y/n]’s chest. She couldn’t believe Ivarn was attempting to swindle the Imp out of paying for her! There was nothing she could do about it; Ivarn would beat her later if she tried to protest.

“No, [y/n] will be perfect.” The dwarf reached into his coin purse and slapped a golden dragon on the table. Ivarn and [y/n]’s eyes widened to the size of the coin. A golden dragon! She couldn’t believe that the Lannister was paying a whole golden dragon for her. Golden dragons were usually reserved for deflowering new maidens. “For my needs, I require a ripe young girl, such as herself.”

[y/n] could not help but flush at that statement. Even Ivarn seemed surprised, but he could not refuse a high lord, particularly a Lannister.

“A—As you say, but golden dragons…[y/n] is only worth a silver stag. She has already lost her maidenhood. You are paying too much.”

Tyrion barked with laughter. “Her virginity is not what I am paying for. It’s his.” He jabbed a small thumb to his companion. The dark-eyed male leapt out of his seat in shock. “Have fun, Snow.”

“Lannister, I can’t do this. I won’t do this.”

“Too bad. I already paid.” Tyrion clapped him on the back and gave a shove towards [y/n]. “Take care of him, sweetling, and be gentle. It’s his first time.”

No matter how much this ‘Snow’ objected, the Imp would not listen and only urged him forward. [y/n] reached and grabbed his hand. She flashed an alluring smile at him. Whether or not that succeeded in tempering his nerves, [y/n] was unsure. She turned her head to the front and led him to her chambers. There was little to no resistance from her client. She wondered if it was because he was finally accepting of this or because he was too afraid to.

Once they were both within the privacy of her room, [y/n] faced her client and smiled sweetly at him. At a closer look, she could see that he was closer to her age than she had originally thought, maybe two or three years older. His tousled black hair fell to his shoulders, mussed by the frigid winds of the north. At closer inspection, [y/n] realized that his eyes were actually a very dark gray, but appeared black in certain lights. He had a long, solemn face, but his youth was evident from his innocent behavior.

“Don’t be nervous, milord,” [y/n] cooed, though she knew not if he was a lord. Clients preferred to be addressed that way, however. She extended a hand and stroked his arm. She felt him tense up at her touch, but he was polite enough not to pull away. “Tell me your name. That way I can know what to cry out later.”

He blushed at her remark. “Jon Snow. And you won’t have to do that.”

“A little nervous are we, hm?” [y/n] closed the distance between their bodies until her chest was pressed against his—rather, her chest was pressed against his stomach. For a boy of fourteen or fifteen, he was tall. “Don’t fret; I can massage those knots right out of you. Just lay down and—”

Jon nudged her hand away and backed up. “Er, [y/n], I don’t mean to offend, but I’m not interested.”

[y/n] pouted. “What do you mean?”

“This goes against the oath of the Night’s Watch.”

“Who cares?” she snorted, folding her arms across her chest. “You haven’t taken it yet, have you? Besides, most of your brothers don’t seem to care about it, with how often they frequent this brothel.”

“Even so, I won’t sully my honor just because my brothers have.”

[y/n] sighed in defeat. There was no persuading this boy. His mind was set, and [y/n] doubted that seduction would convince him. “Then what do you intend for me to do? If you go out there without me fulfilling the night as promised, both Lord Tyrion and my master will be furious.” And [y/n] would surely be tormented by the other wenches for weeks on end for her failure.

Jon pondered that for a moment. “Why not simply talk?”

“Talk?”

“Your duty is to satisfy me, correct? I wouldn’t mind a pleasant conversation.”

The young whore stared at him, eyebrows cocked in confusion more than irritation. Jon Snow was an odd man indeed, but if that was what he desired then who was she to deny it? A break from the regulars wouldn’t hurt, either.

“You are strange, Jon Snow. But who am I to judge you? I am only a whore, after all.” [y/n] sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on her hands. “Well? What is it you want to talk about? Do you have questions, perhaps?”

“How old are you?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve?!” he exclaimed. “But…you’re…”

“A whore, yes. And I’m almost thirteen!” protested [y/n], scowling at the disapproval heavy in his words. “There are whores much younger than I. Don’t presume it’s such an uncommon thing.”

Jon frowned, displeased by her nonchalant reply. Most men did not care for her age, so why should he? His silent condemnation vexed [y/n].

“What about yourself, Jon Snow?” [y/n] snapped, barely able to contain her ire. “You can’t be much older than me, and you’re joining the Night’s Watch.”

“I’m fourteen. Most boys join at this age, some even younger.”

“And some girls become whores at my age. There’s hardly a difference between our situations, only that you’re training to handle a sword and I’m training to handle a different kind of sword.” [y/n] laughed; Jon reddened. The crimson hue stood out upon his pale cheeks. “Weren’t you the one who requested this conversation? I happen to be enjoying myself, so thank you for that.”

He sighed. “And I have to spend the whole hour with you?”

“You have your little lord to thank for that. Ivarn doesn’t accept take-backs.” [y/n] signaled behind her, towards the neat bed she sat on. “You can sleep, if you’d like. I promise I don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

Jon was immune to her flirtatious teasings now; he merely gave a disgruntled look as he conceded and sat beside her. Rather than laying back, however, he twisted to face her and pulled his leg up to his chest. His expression softened and molded into something more inquisitive, curious. [y/n] was almost unsettled by the change of heart.

“Do you enjoy this lifestyle?” he asked quietly.

[y/n] shrugged. “Doesn’t matter whether I do or don’t. It’s necessary. You of all people should understand.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Night’s Watch is hardly pleasant. I’ve heard so from your ‘honorable’ brothers. But it’s needed, right? To protect us from the wildlings,” [y/n] said. She examined her fingernails, which were caked with dirt; it seemed she had forgotten to scrub them earlier. [y/n] shoved her hands into the folds of her skirt to hide her uncleanliness. “They need motivation to keep from desertin’, so they come here for some satisfaction and comfort. That’s why it’s necessary.” [y/n] snorted. “Funny, huh? Whores and black brothers working together to save Westerns.”

“You think so?” asked Jon. [y/n] nodded. “You’re peculiar, [y/n].”

“I could say the same about you, Jon Snow.”

Jon smiled, the first time since [y/n] had met him. Though it was a foreign expression upon his traditionally dour face, it suited him. He should smile more, [y/n] observed, but it wasn’t her place to voice her thoughts.

“Since you asked me a question, ought I ask you one?” [y/n] pointed out.

The smile fell from his face into a neutral expression, and he averted his eyes to his feet. “If you want, though I hardly think you’ll find anything interesting.”

“Ohoho, we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” guffawed [y/n]. “Snow is a name for bastards in the north, right? So whose bastard are you?” [y/n] had a sneaking suspicion she already knew, but she wanted to confirm it to be sure.

“Lord Eddard Stark,” Jon answered, setting his shoulders back proudly. Yet [y/n] could see it written plainly on his face; he was bitter about his status as a highborn bastard. “I don’t know who my mother was, though.”

“Do you want to?” Jon nodded almost immediately. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t. Some people say it’s better to have loved and lost. Well, I say phooey to that. Why bother loving if you’re just gonna lose ‘em anyway?”

“I just…” He was at a loss for words at that. “I’m just curious to know which woman was enough for my father to forget his honor.”

“Fair enough.” Eddard Stark was known for his polished, ironclad integrity. Whereas it was common for lords to have bastards, it was unexpected of Lord Stark to have one. What was even more queer was that he openly fathered Jon and offered his home to him. “Well, at least you have a home, right? Gettin’ opportunities that most bastards wouldn’t.”

“I suppose so.” Jon might have agreed with her, but she knew he truly didn’t.

[y/n] pushed herself off of the bed and turned to face him. “Wipe that frown off your face, Jon Snow. Brothels are a place for fun and smiles, and you have hardly given me either of those. C’mon, give me a smile!” She reached for his cheeks and pulled upwards, creating a lopsided, awkward smile out of his stubborn lips.

Jon shoved her hands away from his face. “Stop.” He uttered one word, but it was forceful. [y/n] tucked her hands behind her and sighed.

“You’re no fun.”

“I shouldn’t even be here. I’m going to be a brother of the Night’s Watch.”

“That again?” [y/n] had finally begun to enjoy herself, but Jon’s reminder of his oath exasperated her. “We’re not ‘breaking the oath’ or whatever you were going on about.”

“But the fact that I’m still here—”

“Means nothing. We’re just talking. I can promise you that one of your future brothers is fucking a whore mindlessly in the next room.”

Just like herself, Jon was starting to lose his temper. He stood up from the bed and easily towered over her in spite of being only fourteen. “Why are you criticizing me for wanting to keep my oath?”

“You haven’t even taken it.” It took all of [y/n]’s willpower not to shout at the frustrating bastard. If she raised her voice or made it seem like they were having troubles, Ivarn would deprive her of food for two days. “And like I said, your brothers don’t care about it, so why should you? They’re just some words.”

Jon opened his mouth to retort, but a knock sounded at the door. Yasmin widened her eyes. [y/n] already knew the question running in her head. Did anything even happen between them?

“Is the hour up?” [y/n] said, grateful to be rid of this annoying ‘honorable’ bastard. She gave the sweetest smile she could procure to Jon Snow. “I really enjoyed our time together, Jon Snow. Truly. Feel free to choose me the next time you visit.”

Jon politely inclined his head, then followed Yasmine out of [y/n]’s chambers. Once the door was closed, [y/n] allowed herself to fall onto her bed and buried her face into the mattress. Her infuriated scream was thankfully muffled by the bed. [y/n] rolled onto her back after she was relieved of her anger and stared up at the transparent canopy hovering above her head.

What a pompous jerk! Going on about “honor” and all that. I bet he’ll be whoring around in a few weeks’ time, just like the others.

The sound of giggling and squeals through the walls reminded [y/n] of her duties. [y/n] dragged herself out of bed and returned to the main hall, casting Jon Snow and the Night’s Watch far back into the recesses of her mind.

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