Okay ik i havent posted in awhile but…i have something cooking up trust..also im starting to work on my requests, i have like 20 something so ill get on it trust😿
I saw your post about wanting none incest request so I was tempted to ask for Aegon x dornish princess reader where she comes to westeros to be at court, and he's immediately interested by her because she is driffent to the ladys of westeros. She's not overly sheltered and she knows how to fight with a spear, and she knows her worth and doesn't take shit form people and she's kinda like margaery tyrell.
I hardly see anything with a dornish reader and I was so tempted to ask.❤️
Ask and you shall receive (pretend its not like a year later🤭)
The Spear of Westeros
Aegon x Dornish Princess Reader
The day the Dornish princess arrives at King’s Landing, the air seems to shift. She is a striking contrast to the other women in the court, not burdened by the weight of conventional Westeros expectations.
Aegon, the King, had never met anyone quite like her. His first impression is that she moves with a quiet confidence, unshaken by the grandeur of the Red Keep or the stares of the lords and ladies who would have preferred to see her cower under their scrutiny. Instead, she meets every gaze with a cool, calculating look of her own, as if she knows exactly what they think—and she couldn’t care less.
He watches her, curiosity piqued, as she gracefully enters the Great Hall. Her beauty is undeniable, but it’s the way she holds herself that truly captures his attention. The Dornish princess is unlike any woman he’s met before, and not just because of her fiery golden skin and dark hair. It’s the fact that she stands tall, her posture regal yet unpretentious, her sharp eyes never wavering. She speaks without hesitation, always with purpose, and she doesn’t indulge the idle chatter that so often consumes court life.
“I’ve heard tales of your skill with a spear.” Aegon muttered, his pupils blown with amazement and admiration.
The words are casual, but there’s a hint of challenge in his voice, as if testing her. He’s never had a woman at court who has dared to speak up or challenge his thoughts so confidently, and the idea of someone who isn’t easily impressed by him intrigues him more than he cares to admit.
The Dornish princess smirks, taking a deliberate step closer. “I’ve had to learn. You don’t survive in Dorne without knowing how to defend yourself, Your Grace.” Her tone is light, but there’s a sharpness to it, like the edge of a blade. “I’ve slain more than a few foes with this spear of mine.”
The tension is palpable. Aegon finds himself both impressed and amused by her self-assuredness. He knows she’s not one to be trifled with—not in the way many of the women in the court might be, who have spent their lives sheltered in their towers, waiting for a knight in shining armor. She’s a warrior in her own right.
“I’ve seen many a lord’s daughter dream of power and influence, but I find it hard to believe you’re one for dreams, Princess.” He added.
“I prefer to take what’s mine, Your Grace. Power and influence are only useful to those who know how to wield them.” Her eyes glint with mischief. “Do you consider yourself one of those people?” She teased lightly.
Aegon chuckles, genuinely entertained. The boldness in her voice is refreshing—she is not a woman who will let herself be manipulated by the games of Westeros. Her words, however playful, are sharp, and she doesn’t mince them. He can’t help but admire it. She’s like a storm from the south, fierce and untamed.
Their relationship starts with this mutual intrigue. Aegon appreciates her directness and strength, while the Dornish princess finds his charm and authority interesting but ultimately predictable. She’s seen men of power before, but none who have challenged her as much as Aegon does.
Later, in private, Aegon asks her “Do you think you could ever see yourself ruling here? In Westeros?”
The princess’s lips curl into a knowing smile. “Westeros doesn’t need rulers who rely on their birthright alone, Your Grace. What it needs is someone who knows how to lead with their mind… and their heart.” She leans in slightly, her voice lowering. “And unlike many here, I understand what true loyalty means.”
Over time, Aegon finds himself respecting her not just for her intellect or strength, but for her unapologetic nature. She refuses to bend to the whims of others, holding her ground in a court full of snakes. Their relationship develops slowly—at first, mutual respect, then something deeper. Aegon is drawn to her no-nonsense attitude, her sharp mind, and the way she challenges him—something no one else at court dares to do. In return, she sees through the layers of his title, recognizing the burden of being king and the complexity of his position.
As the days go by he seems to grow more and more interested in her, even beginning what he thought was courting rituals, though it was more of him flirting shamelessly and acting a fool, hoping it would work. That a confident woman like her would fall for such an idiot, and whether she would like to admit it or not…it did.
Perhaps ill make another part….
I honestly kinda rushed this because i felt bad i took so long😪 a girl was busy being studious in her work(it didnt work) and the classic tumblr author experience of having to get surgery or some kind of sickness.🙁
pleasee John being sweet on you and Arthur getting jealous (smut and maybe a tiny bit angst??) i love ur blog, take caree🩷
Your so sweet ily😭❤️
Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader
Walking through the camp you could feel the young boys eyes on you as you walked, you noticed little john had always been the one to rush to your aid. Need your horse brushed? Hes brushing it, need a drink? Hes getting it.
You began to notice and so did a certain someone, his (fake) older brother arthur, arthur knew he wasnt a good looking man, but he was better then john…right? Maybe not, i mean john is young, like you, hes energetic and fun, meanwhile arthurs just a stupid old man. Shit maybe john should get you, after all, why would arthur? Hes not special?
He noticed that you were bashful at johns actions, figuring it was because you liked the boy, god damn it why isnt he good enough?! Why dont you like him? Did he say something? Is he too old? Maybe you don’t deserve him, he wouldnt keep you happy like john would.
You noticed arthurs saddened looks each time john sprang to you, you found it cute that the man had a crush on you but you weren’t interested, you should definitely plan on telling him soon, you didnt want john, No, you wanted arthur.
You saw him look at himself, you heard the way he talked about himself, and you knew you had to confess soon.
And thats how you got here, sitting at the campfire, facing him.
“Mr morgan, i have so-”
“Just arthur” he rasped out, taking a swig of his beer.
“Arthur. I have something to tell you.” You spoke firmly, making eye contact eith him as best as you could, he kept looking away, avoiding your gaze.
“i…” you trailed, the sudden confidence gone as you saw him stare at you, “i love you” you spat out, watching his face contort into anger before he stood up, stumbling.
“You…your lying, whats wrong with you.” He tried to stumble away but you stood and caught him, nodding, figuring this was a rejection but also, a god awful time to tell him, maybe he wouldn’t remember in the morning.
The next day when he awoke he found himself glancing around, looking into his shaving mirror and grimacing at what he saw, a old disheveled man staring back at him, disgusting, he thought, stumbling out of his tent and making his way to the campfire, being offered coffee by mrs grimshaw, taking it and sighing.
You walked out of your tent and froze when you saw him, standing hunched over and sipping a cup of coffee, making your way to hosea to speak to him you found yourself stopped, turning as you saw arthur staring daggers at you, a firm grip on your arm. “We need to talk” was all he grumbled, turning and walking away.
Soon you were in the sort of privacy of his tent, he sat on his cot and stared long and hard at you, “you…said something last night-”
You cut him off with apologies, immediately assuming he was upset, “imsosorry, ididntmeantospititoutwhenyouweredrunk, andifyoudontfeelthesameitsokay!” You shouted, covering your mouth as you realized you sounded a little crazy. He just grinned.
“So..you werent just playing a joke on a old man?” He asked. “What? No” you answered honestly, seeming confused by his accusation but brushing it off, “arthur i see the way that you look at yourself, and it upsets me, your a beautiful man and i dont want you to think otherwise” you grabbed his hand and he almost flinched away.
“You don’t deserve me. I see the way you look at john when he does stuff for you..” he shook his head and looked away, pulling his hand away gently, you firmly grasped his hand and intertwined your fingers, “i dont want john, i want you” you huffed and moved closer to press your lips against his. He knew he should pull away but he wanted this so bad.
He leaned into the kiss and gripped your sides, pulling you on his lap as he held you close, your arms snaked around his neck and you pulled away to trail wet kisses down his neck, pinning him under you as you decided to show this old man how much you wanted him.
He gripped your hair as your head bobbed up and down on his dick, panting and groaning as he thrusted up into your face, holding your head in place and using your throat to get off, not too long after he felt himself get close and he pulled you off him, allowing you to stroke him until his seed covered your face.
He nodded and watched as you cleaned your face, kissing up his torso and running your hands up his large arms, muttering praises against his skin as you slid up to hover over his hips, pulling your underwear to the side you lined him up with you and slowly sank down on him, whining as you felt him fill you.
He gripped your sides and you began to slowly bounce, your thighs flexing as you steadied yourself on his chest, leaning in to whisper how good he felt, making him see stars as he threw his head back, whining.
God you felt so good, better then he imagined all those times he would tug at his cock at night thinking of you. You were soft, and warm. And god were you fucking tight. Clenching around him as you began to bounce, your thighs burning from the effort of lifting yourself up and dropping back down.
“Motherfucker..” He groaned, gripping Your sides tightly. Each bounce and rock edged him closer amd closer until he found himself flipping them over and slamming you into the cot, positioning himself behind you as he began to pound into you.
Your eyes closed and your mouth gaped open as you drooled on the flat wornour pillow he used, moans and mewls leaving your lips faster then you could silence them, he was grunting in your ear, growling praises and nasty things, “feel so fucking good….so tignt darlin’ you close? Yeah? Give your old man a good one now yahear?” He snarled in your ear as you nearly passed out from pleasure.
Your vision blurred amd you tightened around him like you needed it to live, thighs shaking as you came. Letting out a loud whine and pushing back against him. He held you still as he continued his thrusts and finally ended with one last thrust deep inside you before pulling out and covering your ass with his seed.
Sweat beaded down his face as he leaned back on his thighs and sighed satisfactorily. Grabbing an old piece of cloth and wiping you clean.
if you want to actually start to end homelessness, you need to give homeless people unconditional homes, including when we use them to do drugs or sit around drinking. either housing is unconditional or it isn’t
someone sitting at home alone, an active alcoholic, squandering your charity, drinking all day is better situation than a street homeless alcoholic. someone using drugs in your charity house is better than them doing the same w no shelter
most of you would not like most street homeless people, I definitely don’t and didn’t when I was street homeless. for every one person who uses unconditional shelter to turn themselves around, someone else will do jack shit and very slowly, if ever, work through the issues that made them homeless, will maybe never be able to live independently. still better than street homelessness, still worth doing. ultimately either you believe that shelter should be universal or you don’t
homeless people actually can’t be rehabilitated if you want to end homelessness. we either affirm the right to shelter for the worst drunken, lying, filthy, cheating, self destructive homeless people that exist, genuinely irredeemable wankers, or we concede that shelter is not a right
Listen guys ik im slacking on the Targaryen stuff but i have this😀 i swear ill put smth out soon💔🙂
Logan Howlett
“What kind of a question is that?” He asked, his voice gruff until he noticed the sadness in your eyes. He sighed and held his arms open for you and quietly pet your hair as you hugged him. “Of course i see you past lust i-“ logan was never one for words, nor was he one to express emotions, but maybe just this once he figured. “I love you, a lot. And thats saying somethin’ cause i dont usually tell people i like ‘em, but your somethin’ special bub” he sighed and fell silent again, he had no idea if his words would help, he just kind of assumed that whatever was bothering you, you’d tell him, and not make his old ass play the guessing game.
Scott Summers
He was silent, staring at you confused. Did he not show enough affection today? No he was practically attached to your hip. “What are you talking about baby?” He asked while walking closer, “of course i see you past lust, i mean..you complete me. I feel like i can be myself around you and, its nice” He muttered the last part but you heard it, eventually he made it to you and wrapped you in his arms as he swayed you both side to side. “I love you more then words can express, your the best thing to happen to me besides join the professor here”
Remy Labeau
“Huh? Of course gambit thinks of you past love cherie, what kinda man woulda be if i didnt, hm? I mean dont get me wrong mon cœur i love your body and the things it can do but trust gambit when he says he love you for more then just that, huh?” He seemed kind of offended, not that you asked but that you questioned his love for you. He had stopped playing with his cards and was now facing you as he grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrows and opening his arms. It took him a few minutes to realize you werent in the mood for jokes for him to frown and tilt his head slightly, “douce fille, mon chéri, quel est le problème? You dont trust your gambit?” He hummed, walking up to you and pulling you in closer, now youve got his attention, now he wont leave you alone.
If you can’t find a place on your blog for Patrick Stewart in a bathtub dressed like a lobster, then your blog probably doesn’t deserve such majesty anyway.
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