Avenger Imagines

Mostly imagines about Pietro Maximoff and Bucky Barnes but if you want another Avenger ask and I'll do it gladly - Request are open - masterlist - http://wandas-maximofff.tumblr.com/masterlist - my wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/user/-wintersoldier

[kiwiswritingbox]

Valarr and his wife, who is in charge during sex

Smut

(I miss my husband so much, I think I'm gonna write some dark!valarr)

- Valarr has had the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders for as long as he can remember, so when it comes to the bedroom, he likes to give up all control.

- Literally will do anything you tell him, he doesn't wanna think for a little bit, but please tell him to kiss you again, your lips look really nice.

- Tell him to get on his knees and eat you out, so he can please you.

- Valarr’s wife, who likes riding on top of him until he can’t speak anymore, because she knows how stressed he is and wants to help.

- He likes it when you grab his face and make him look at you before you kiss him. That alone could make him cum, but he won't unless you say he can.

- It's not that he doesn't want to be in control in the bedroom sometimes, he wants to take you, but it's normally when someone annoys him with stupid questions.

- Valarr is possessive of you, though. In public, he doesn't like how Aerion looks at you or the other lords talking to you.

- In court, other people get to take up your time and be in your space

- Or he likes fucking you in places others might catch you, in a closet, or in the woods when he takes you out hunting. He gets rough and doesn't listen to what you want. He wants you to moan his name till a guard or maid hears.

- Or at a fest, one of his hands will find its way under your skirt and play with you. Not letting you reach your peak.

- He likes that you can think about anything except him.

- He thinks that you have to use all your strength to not whine in front of the guest and his family.

- He likes that you have tears in your eyes trying to hold yourself together.

- But you repay him in that bedroom, by not touching him not using him, the way he wants, instead you use his leg to release yourself, and then roll off him as he begs you, as he promises he won't do it again, even though you both know it is a lie

- And you really wouldn't have any other way.

[kiwiswritingbox]

Guilty as sin

Soft!Valarr

I lied, I said I was writing dark! Valarr trust that will come, because I eat up dark! Valarr, but I miss him. And I think he's sweet and nice. No smut.

Based on the one where Baelor helps the Valarr wife have an heir. I'm gonna write about Baelor and Valarr’s wife soon.

To Produce an Heir ♡ 1st part

Valarr never really finds out that the children aren't his, he has been compared to his father his whole life, of course, his kids are going to look like Baelor.

His son has his eyes, and the baby girl has his wife’s hair, and he's sure the next one will be a good mix. (Bealor and Valarr keep her very busy)

Or maybe he does know deep down and chooses to ignore how his father behaves around his wife. The way his hand always lingers around her body, when he thinks he isn't looking.

But his wife loves him, Valarr knows that. She wakes him up with soft kisses to his face and is his escape from court when it's too much.

She sings lullabies to their children, and he listens from just far enough away that you don't know he's there. When she’s busy helping his father, he’ll sing it to their son and daughter.

Valarr likes it when she runs her hand over the white streak in his hair. His father doesn't have that streak that's all him. He thinks the next babe will have a touch more of him.

His wife kisses him desperately whenever she comes back from helping his father with work, like she’s trying to prove how much she missed him. (aka getting her back blown out and feeling bad about it, omg who said that?)

He places kisses on her hands, all the time, especially in court when lords come to bother him with requests to ask his father. His wife stands beside him, not listening to the lord, she plays with his hand, and he kisses the back of it, as a way to pay more attention to you in that moment.

At dinners, Valarr’s fingertip draws swirls on his wife’s thigh through her skirt, and her eyes never leave his face. It's a look of awe when she thinks he's not looking, her eyes wander to his father’s seat, but as soon as he turns to ask her something she can't help but look at anything but him.

“You look quite pretty, tonight.” Valarr says they aren't married and don't have two children. He still flirts because he likes the way his wife’s smile widens, and her cheeks blush.

“My husband said the same thing,” She replies, leaning closer to him, “he might be jealous you said that.” She tempts him by playing along.

“Is he any good at fighting?”

His wife shakes her head, “Quite good, I'm afraid you wouldn't stand a chance.” and she kisses Valarr.

Sure Valarr has his suspicions, and he hears the court ladies whisper about how much time his wife spends with his father.

He doesn’t let himself think about rumors too much because then he will over think everything, and something dark will grow in his chest, when his father makes a joke to you when the two of you are seated together during a tournament that he has to compete in.

Sure he wonders, but he pushes all that away when he sees his pregnant wife, bouncing one babe on her hip and she smiles for him and only at him she offers that smile.

He never wonders if you love him and that’s more important to him, you are his and he is yours.

[kiwiswritingbox]

Daeron and his wife

This is part of [this]

Headcannons about Daeron and his wife’s sex, because even if he has to share, he still reminds you that you're his wife. (I’m going with the idea that the reader was Valarr’s and Aerion’s lover)

My ask are open

smut

Daeron didn’t think he’d ever get the chance to marry her. Who would want to marry a man whose nickname is his name, the drunken? He wouldn't marry him either.

You didn’t really want to marry him. You didn’t have many other options. And in the right light, he is handsome. He is very handsome, but you ignore that because the Targaryens are wild and you're tired.

He's not as greedy as Valarr or as cruel as Aerion. Daeron’s somewhere in between.

He comes to your bedroom later after he has had a few drinks, and you’re on the bed in the same night gown he first saw you in, before you were married.

He likes the way the silk feels when he lies on the bed beside you. He's always soft at the beginning. He likes tracing the outline of your body as if he's trying to commit it to memory, as he’ll lose you.

He likes kissing your body. He starts at your neck, where faded bruises from Aerion mark your skin. Then your collarbone, before he starts pulling the dress down and off of you, then he focuses on your breasts. (I think he has mommy issues. Who said that?)

But he moves on down your stomach, he likes exploring your body, likes knowing every piece of you, because you're his. You're his wife. His hand is between your legs the whole time, the pace is so slow you start rocking against it out of neediness, and he pulls away so you can’t.

Because yes, he may want to please you, but he’ll do it his way. You don’t get to have a shortcut, cum before he wants you to, no, why would he do that?

He wins, he gets you in public, and he gets you here right now. Spread out nicely and moaning softly that you need him, your breath caught in your throat, because he's slower than his brother and cousin. Because he doesn't have to steal you away, he can take all the time he wants.

He's not fast and greedy like Valarr, who takes you as if he stole you, because he doesn’t get a lot of free time, so when he does, he doesn’t let either of you wait.

Maybe if he were a better man, one that didn't need to drink his dreams away, he wouldn't let anyone steal you away ever, he would defend you and your honor better. But he does try, he stops Aerion from being as bad. You don't cry as much anymore.

He likes it when you beg for him, and it's not like the way you call out Valarr’s name because he's needy and has to hear you say it or he won't help you finish, or the way you beg Aerion, feeding into his ego with your fear because Aerion says dragons are to be feared.

No, he likes the way you beg and call his name like you can't get enough of what he gives you, because he wants you to want him. “Please, Daeron…” because you don’t like waiting.

Maybe you want him, maybe it's out of survival, maybe you can read him like the others and see what his desires are, and give it to him.

Neither of you really knows.

He likes it and thinks it's the first option, as he kisses your inner thigh, because why else would you be this wet already if you didn't want him the same way?

The only places he ever left marks on your body are your thighs, bite marks, and hickeys.

Then he finally pulls his dick out to fuck you, and he likes the way your eyes roll when he starts because you've been waiting too long.

He likes the way your hands wrap around his neck to pull him close as he thrusts into you.

He likes that you beg him not to stop when he slows down again, how you start bucking your hips because he's tired, and then he laughs because he's pretty sure you don't do that with Valarr or Aerion.

And he crashes a kiss onto your parted lips. And picks his pace back up because he knows that you want him to, he likes feeling wanted, he doesn't feel it often.

[aliciavikander]

legend

[pleatedjeans]

[freshest-tittymilk]

Gemini in cat-form

[the-suitelife-of-disneychannel]

a magic place

[eddykenway]

[dylanfuller]

this scene fucked me up because he really didn’t care about being rich and powerful. he just wanted to fuck the world in the ass

[wandas-maximofff]

steve harrington season one: fuckboy

steve harrington season two: father of five

[calrisians]

      Most have been forgotten. Most deserve to be forgotten.

[coffeecaine]

[tommykinard]

2x12 | 6x10

[clockmocker]

When your friend sees you in public

[clockmocker]

When you see your friend in public

[fuckyeahlinctavias]

[bellaarke]

Linctavia Week Day 4: Octavia as Lady of Winterfell & Lincoln as a Wildling (Part of THIS universe) 

[AO3] & [FFN]

Winterfell, 499 AC She meets him for the first time when she’s out among the trees. Her brother’s constant focus on her future gets to her sometimes and she heads out there to be alone, surrounded by the wild. It isn’t even that she doesn’t want to be Lady Octavia, because she truly doesn’t mind it too much; but sometimes she just wants the peace of the wood surrounding Winterfell. And then other times, she’s afraid. She’s not naïve, she’s heard the talk—the offers for her hand that her brother’s been declining for her without her knowledge, her part in the trade negotiations that Bellamy’s successfully been able to narrowly avoid agreement to. But unless something drastic happens, Bellamy will have no choice soon. Her training on being a Lady will someday end, and he’ll have to give her hand to someone. Octavia doesn’t want to leave home, though. She’s not all that fond of the idea of belonging to someone else if she doesn’t get a true choice. More than anything, though, she just wants Winterfell. So distracted is she by her thoughts, that she doesn’t see the boar charging after her until it’s too late. Her eyes widen, her mouth opens in a scream, and her body is telling her to run, to move out of the way, but it isn’t doing anything. At the last moment, a man comes out of the woods with a spear and stabs the boar. “Thank you,” she whispers as she stares up at him, looking him over. “I’m Octavia, by the way,” she introduces herself. “My name is Lincoln,” he answers. He’s not one of her brother’s men, sent to follow her. He isn’t even from around here, she’d presume. Her eyes widen. “You’re on our land!” she exclaims. The Free Folk have been on peaceful terms with the rest of the realm for over a hundred years now. The wall opens for both sides now, and they roam free, just as anyone is allowed past the Wall now. However, house seats are thought to be off limits. It’s not an official limitation, but Octavia’s been at Winterfell all her life and never see a Wildling before…until now, that is. The tall man shrugs. “No one lives in the wood between your border and ours,” he says. “It has long been free ground.” He bends down and takes a small knife to the boar, skinning and gutting it. “Why are you here, then, if you don’t live here?” she asks. He gestures with his knife to the boar on the ground. “Better hunting.” “You steal our game?” her head tilts to the side, and the slightest hint of accusation appears in her voice. “It’s free land.” “So you say,” she says. He stands and moves to another area. Octavia watches in fascination as he gathers sticks and fallen wood. It doesn’t take him long to have a fire started. She steps closer to it, grateful for the sudden warmth. “You should learn to protect yourself if you’re going to come out here alone,” he replies, changing the subject abruptly. Octavia doesn’t mind. “I’m supposed to be a Lady,” she tells the stranger who saved her. “I’m not supposed to need to protect myself. And, usually Lya’s with me. She’d have taken that boar down for me.” “A wolf is not a knife,” he answers, holding out his own for emphasis.

Octavia straightens and a chill runs across her back. “I never told you Lya was my direwolf.” “I’m—here…often, I’ve seen you…with the butterflies. The wolf was with you. You called her Lya.” She smiles and relaxes just slightly. In silence, she watches him tend to the fire and prepare the boar. The sun sets in the sky, but she’s not worried. Lya would alert Bellamy if she sensed that Octavia was in danger, and she’s beginning to become certain she’s not. She continues to ask questions and he continues to answer, with short, but truthful responses. Octavia finds herself intrigued by him. Finally, once they’ve had their fill of the boar he’d saved her from she stands. “Well, I must get back. They’ll be looking for me soon.” He nods wordlessly, and, not expecting anything further to be said, she starts walking back toward Winterfell. “I could teach you,” she hears him say, after taking only a few steps. She turns back to face him. Realizing his statement was ambiguous, he adds, “How to protect yourself—I could teach you.” Octavia smiles. “I’d like that.”

[fuckyeahbellarke]

[bellaarke]

Bellarke Week Day 6: Clarke as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms & Bellamy as Lord of Winterfell (Part of THIS universe)

[AO3] & [FFN]

King’s Landing, 500 AC Bellamy’s never been to King’s Landing before. He feels overdressed and uncomfortable as a young girl leads him to the Throne Room. Snow, his large direwolf is at his side. The girl seems very wary of the beast. It’s a lot hotter than in Winterfell, which he had known, but hadn’t really comprehended until now. Even Dragonstone, where he and his sister had been fostered years before with the Princess, was colder than this. Of course, he’s heard about the Iron Throne, heard the legends and the history, about all of the bloodshed that came before them, but he’s never actually seen it. He has, however, seen the girl who will be sitting in it. He and his Princess had been through a lot together, had gotten as close as two people could be. And still, he had to let her go. He had Winterfell, but she had the whole kingodm to rule. The throne room is large and largely empty. His footsteps echo on the hard floor as he walks. Finally, he looks straight ahead and faces the fiery blonde in the blue dress sitting upon the massive throne made of swords and the large black dragon wrapped around the base of the throne. “Princess,” he acknowledges softly with a smirk playing at his lips as he kneels. “I’ve been Queen for two years now, as you very well know, Bellamy,” Clarke reprimands with a small smile on her face. “Well, I assume you didn’t send for me just to make sure I knew it, Princess. Why am I here?” Clarke shakes her head and nods to the girl standing silently by a pillar. She nods back and quietly walks off. “Straight to the point,” she remarks. “Not everything changes, then.” She doesn’t mention the use of the nickname—for that’s exactly what it is, not so much the title she once held. Bellamy simply shrugs. It’s not behavior befitting an audience with the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but he doesn’t really see her like that. He never has. She has been so much more to him before, he doesn’t know how to pretend she’s just his Queen. “I want—no, I need you to be my Hand,” she announces, sounding as queenly as he’s ever heard before. He cocks his head slightly to the side, Snow mirroring his movements beside him. “I thought your Martell girl was your hand. You don’t need me.” “I want Raven as the Commander of my Queenguard. I want you as my Hand.” Clarke steps down from the throne, her dragon uncoiling beside her, making hissing noises. “There is—well, I don’t know what is going on anymore. You know my mother almost drove the kingdoms into the first war the kingdoms have seen in nearly two hundred years.” Bellamy nods. The former queen is now reluctantly being kept at Dragonstone, while her daughter rules as queen. “I think something else is going to happen soon. I need you here with me to do this again if it becomes necessary. I need your opinions and insights.” “I have Winterfell to look after now,” he replies reluctantly. As Lord of Winterfell, he really shouldn’t be moving down to King’s Landing to help as Hand of the Queen. Historically, this didn’t end well the last time one of his ancestors tried to help an old friend. Clarke waves her hand regally. “Your sister would make a fine Lady of Winterfell. She would rule quite nicely alongside her not-so-wild Wildling, if the rumors I’ve heard are true.” She’s baiting him. He can tell by the playfull smile on her lips. Bellamy tries not to look annoyed. Lincoln isn’t that bad. Bellamy had just always wanted more for his sister, had tried to groom her to be a Lady so she could marry well. But she’s as wild as her own direwolf’s namesake. Bellamy glances over at Snow, who has long since moved away from him and is now curled up with Nerys. The animals had been separated just as long as their human counterparts have been, but have quickly regained their previous intimacies. “It’s been so very long, Clarke,” he protests weakly. His eyes are fixated on her mouth and the way her upper teeth are kneeding her lower lip. He holds back a groan. She’s right in front of him now, taking her hands in his. “I want you here, Bell, ruling at my side. I need you here. I miss you. Please tell me you’ll stay with me.” At long last, he sighs. “Send word to Octavia,” he finally declares. “She’ll need to know her duties, and I’ll need the rest of my things—I had only packed for a short trip.” Snow and Nerys look content, and Clarke’s smile is starting to make him content with his decision as well. And, perhaps, he’s been missing her, too, these past few years.

[mrs-n-uzumaki]

When you discover that these two:

Were married in Love Actually

[skipperthekangaroo]

is that more or less shocking than the fact that these two

were married in real life?

[mrs-n-uzumaki]

You just made my post 200% better.

[jennytrout]

Wait for it, because in real life:

Cheated on:

With:

[finallysomegoodfuckingcontent]

Shooting That last movie must have been really awkward

[spoonmeb]

oooooooooogurl

[sodomymcscurvylegs]

Me, listening to all of this Goddamned tea spilling:

[firstladyfeyre-deactivated20170]

Wait what

[stargirlkatara]

“What’s more important? What we become? Or how we become it?”