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16 March 2012 @ 11:57 pm
G A M E O F T H R O N E S K I N K M E M E  

- all characters must be from george r. r. martin's a song of ice and fire's series or the hbo adaption game of thrones
- leave a pairing in the comments, along with an accompanying kink - eg jaime/cersei, voyeurism, theon/robb, oral.
- graphics and fanart are also accepted
- no hate pleeease, we don't all love the same ships but let's not bash because of it :)
- multiple fills are encouraged

SEE: asoiafkinkmeme

margaeryrainbowmargaeryrainbow on March 18th, 2012 11:56 pm (UTC)
MargaeryxSansa - drunk Sansa
daenathedefiantdaenathedefiant on March 19th, 2012 09:17 pm (UTC)
wine and warmth pt 1

The wine had made Sansa’s head fuzzy, but it had also given her purpose. She knocked on the door and then pushed it open without waiting for an answer.

“Sansa?” Margaery looked startled, but not that surprised. She was sitting in front of a mirror, brushing out her long brown hair. Gone was the highly piled Southern hairstyle, instead her curls cascaded around her shoulders to where a sheer slip hung loosely. Sansa’s breath caught in her throat.

She had come here with a purpose, but her mind clouded temporarily with thoughts of smooth porcelain skin. She could only gather her thoughts by looking away.

“I’ve seen you…looking at me,” Sansa said, gazing at a tapestry on the wall. “Tonight, at the feast. At the tournament. In court.” Margaery didn’t say anything, and Sansa allowed herself to look at the other girl’s face. Wide brown eyes regarded her carefully. Was there a hint of amusement playing across Margaery’s face? Sansa nervously closed some of the space between them, but stopped halfway. What had seemed so clear a few minutes ago seemed lost in the haze of wine, and she struggled to grasp on her purpose for coming here. She focused in on Margaery’s lips. Those full, red lips…she felt a tingle going up her spine as she imagined how they would feel against her own.

“Have you?” Margaery seemed to be choosing her words with great care. And then the brown eyes narrowed slightly with purpose and Margaery stood up and closed the space between them. The sheer gown draped against her body as she walked, hugging her curves, and Sansa realized with a tremble that Margaery had nothing on underneath.

Margaery was so close now that Sansa could feel the heat of her breath. A porcelain hand darted up and touched Sansa’s face. She could feel warmth spreading from between her legs, she could smell her own scent and knew Margaery must be able to as well. And the full red lips murmured, “it’s hard not to stare,” but Sansa was beyond words and with the wine propelling her forward she closed the last distance between them and pressed her lips against Margaery’s.

Margaery pushed back softly as first, but then she found purpose and pressed harder, her tongue pushing inside Sansa’s lips and painting warm circles. Sansa could feel hands snaking up her back, pressing their bodies together, pushing against the layers of cloth that divided them. And as if Margaery could hear her thoughts, the hands started untying, pulling, breaking free of the layers between them. Sansa’s hands began to move almost of their own volition, stroking the curves of Margaery’s body and she couldn’t believe how warm the other girl was. She reached up to where the sheer gown was slipping off of Margaery’s shoulder and slid it free. The dress pooled like so much water around Margaery’s feet.
wine and warmth pt 2 - daenathedefiant on March 19th, 2012 09:18 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: wine and warmth pt 2 - margaeryrainbow on March 20th, 2012 01:04 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: wine and warmth pt 2 - daenathedefiant on March 20th, 2012 01:20 am (UTC) (Expand)
i'm the vice president of chocolate!: lovecraftilleatchu on March 19th, 2012 12:05 am (UTC)
theon (recovering reek) / jeyne p.
(WoW excerpt) jeyne and maybe asha rescue theon ala leiah rescuing han from jabba
a girl with kaleidoscope eyes: amy hairporna_cherrytree on March 19th, 2012 12:21 am (UTC)
asha as queen of the iron islands/qarl the maid - infidelity
(Anonymous) on March 19th, 2012 12:30 am (UTC)
Robb/Sansa, experimentation
margaeryrainbowmargaeryrainbow on March 19th, 2012 12:38 am (UTC)
Hot Pie/Arya/Gendry - in the kitchens of Harrenhal
(Anonymous) on March 21st, 2012 08:55 pm (UTC)
Hot Pie watches Arry(Arya)/Gendry
It was like they forgot he was there, Hot Pie thought to himself.
Gendry and Arry had been fighting. He was mad that she made him sneak to the kitchens, only to hatch a scheme that was likely to get the three of them killed. She wanted to leave Harrenhall, to run off to a place called Riverrun. Hot Pie didn’t see what was so special about Riverrun, it would be exactly the same as Harrenhall. He liked it here, he did a good job so he never once got beat.
It was only five minutes into the fight when Gendry pushed his mouth onto Arry`s. She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He ripped off her tunic, bringing his mouth to her tiny breast and she moaned as she fumbled with the laces of his breeches.
He tossed her onto a table and took of his clothes in one swift motion. He then ripped of her breeches and thrust himself inside her. They were both moaning and panting, as their hips moved in a faster and more desperate rhythm.
Hot Pie tried to leave, but he seemed to be frozen in place; watching the two lovers. He had to leave, he told himself. If they got caught, all three of them would be punished. But he didn`t. He felt his cock harden as Arry moaned.
She was on top of Gendry now, her breasts wobbled as her body rose up and down. Gendry`s hands were at her waist, pushing her deeper into him.
She wasn`t the prettiest girl he`d ever seen, but beggars can`t be choosers. So he undid the laces of his tunic and began stroking his manhood, while watching the two lovers. All three of them peaked together.
Re: Hot Pie watches Arry(Arya)/Gendry - (Anonymous) on April 24th, 2012 06:03 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(Anonymous) on March 19th, 2012 01:49 am (UTC)
jon snow/arianne martell - temperature play
(Anonymous) on March 19th, 2012 02:00 am (UTC)
arya/sansa, playing knight & lady
(Anonymous) on March 19th, 2012 02:05 am (UTC)
cat x tywin- wedding night (red wedding au)
(Anonymous) on March 19th, 2012 02:06 am (UTC)
Jon/Sansa - fellatio
(Anonymous) on March 19th, 2012 02:19 am (UTC)
Theon/Sansa penis removed, strap-on
an owl on the sill in the evening: foods: teamisstopia on March 19th, 2012 02:26 am (UTC)
Cersei/Theon, kneeling
an owl on the sill in the evening: foods: alcoholmisstopia on March 19th, 2012 02:29 am (UTC)
Cersei/Petyr, on the council table
Juno: Catelyn by Kasiopeiajuno_chan on March 20th, 2012 03:19 am (UTC)
for clean hands

A Lannister always pays his debts, and it is a lesson she holds fast to, men are not loyal for love, or honor, men are loyal for reward; and as the true Lannister she is, when Lord Baelish bows before her, eyes gleaming, it is as Your Grace commands, she rewards her obedient subject.

“Here,” she orders, and she knows she has surprised him, sees that flicker in his eyes that he is always so careful to conceal, that give that he has not seen a move coming.

He recovers quickly, as he always does, but there is a rasp in his voice, “If that is as my queen pleases.” And it is, she should give her reward right here, where Jon Arryn gave his so wise council while her husband drank and whored, and where he first raised his eyebrows in suspicion, and where she had decided to snuff him out like a candle, how easily these men all blow away.

She pushes him to the table, climbing to straddle his hips, stalking with hands and knees to crouch over him, and he is surprised again, and she feels a flicker of irritation even as she feels his cock stir against her thigh, that he would have the presumption to think she would lie on her back for him, she would never deign to do so; she may be generous and sweet to her servants but they must always remember that she is the queen and they live to serve her.

Cersei knows she should be wary of him, he is too common to have risen so far, and too quick to betray those who brought up from so low, the Hand himself and his half-mad wife, for the sake of rising higher yet. He does not know his place in this world, grasping for purchase at the skirts of his betters as he grasps at her skirts now, pushing them aside with frantic fingers, and truly, she finds everything about his sniveling sly nature distasteful.

And yet how masterfully he had played foolish Lady Arryn, knowing instinctively which notes to pluck. He has a gift for the art of subtle manipulation, and now both their hands are clean and Lysa Arryn fled, and her peace of mind, however brief it may be, is worth the promises she makes with smiling lips, worth his hands reaching up to cup her breasts.

In the end, he is just another man with a cock and his greatest power and greatest pleasure is putting it in a woman that he desires, and she plays her role well, rocking on him and sighing as though there is nothing more she can want than his slender body beneath her hands, nails biting into his chest (always must remind them, they are the servants and she is the queen, she is the lion and she has claws), eyes heavily lidded and mouth parted in pleasure.

His breeches unlaced, he stays clothed and there is almost a regret to that, she would have liked to have seen that long red scar he bears, that one he got when he took sword against a Stark boy for that Tully girl, it is a reminder that he is weak just like any other man, vulnerable just as the rest to the power she holds between her thighs.

He watches her, transfixed, as they all do, there is a desperation to his movements, the jerk of his hips off the council table that could make her lip curl in disgust if she were not cooing her pleasure. He reaches a hand up to touch a lock of her hair, and she bats it away, irritated, the mask slipping for a moment, she may wield her cunt as Jaime wields his sword but such affections are reserved for him alone, this is business, this is not love.

Littlefinger wants so much to be loved by a beautiful woman, she decides idly, even as she rolls her hips and his movements become jerking and soon she will have to pull back; he must not come inside her. It will be his downfall, she thinks, this need of his, and she tucks the knowledge carefully away (the things you can learn, with your legs spread and a man on his back).

She finishes him with her hand, a few rough quick strokes and it is done, her debt paid as he comes with a sputter, and she dainty wipes her hand against his doublet. “I thank you for your service to the crown, Lord Baelish,” she says, all honeyed sweetness as she climbs to her feet, smoothing her skirts neatly into place.

He gasps, his brow damp but his eyes still gleam, I shall not discount him yet, she decides. “It is an honor to serve, my queen.”

Edited at 2012-03-20 03:22 am (UTC)
(no subject) - lainemontgomery on March 20th, 2012 04:27 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - juno_chan on March 20th, 2012 12:08 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - misstopia on March 20th, 2012 04:35 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - juno_chan on March 21st, 2012 08:40 pm (UTC) (Expand)
an owl on the sill in the evening: orlymisstopia on March 19th, 2012 02:30 am (UTC)
Jaime/Cersei, they fuck next to sleeping Robert
curses to this mirage!: ASOIAF--The Things I Do For Loveembossedsilver on March 19th, 2012 03:10 am (UTC)
Fill: Weakeness (Jaime/Cersei)
”Quiet,” she hisses in his ear, voice catching as he rocks his hips into her, deeper, back where he belongs.

Jaime stares down at her through sweat-stained hair, mouth turned up on one side, eyes filled with hunger and not burdened with concern. Her eyes, she thinks, for that’s what was always said, but the lack of truth in that was never more evident than it is now.

“I’ll kill him,” he says, as if it’s as simple as all that. He casts a glance in Robert’s direction—snoring soundly in the sleep of wine—and grips her legs to get a better angle, pushing into her with such force they rattle the massive bed.

Cersei stifles her moan by biting down on her lip, and slaps him, hard, across the face. His grin only widens, and he leans in to claim her mouth. Her blood sings with anger in combat with her desire, and she digs her nails into him in an effort to find some outlet.

“You’d like that,” he mutters against the skin of her neck, tongue flicking out to taste the sweat there. "Your champion." Jaime pulls out of her nearly all the way, teasing her. Against her better nature Cersei finds herself digging her heels into his back, aching for him, ignoring his laughter.

He braces one hand against the headboard and fills her and she shutters, grasping at him, looking at Robert and reminding herself how foolish her brother can be.

“It’s not that easy,” she says, voice icy, but Jaime devours her words with his mouth, uncaring. The press of his body proves too sweet even for her resolve, and she feels herself begin to tremble, griping his other hand to return it to her clit, fingers dancing over where they are joined.

She grips his hair tightly, pulling him against her as she comes, savoring the way he bites her neck, crushing her breasts against his chest in an effort to feel all of him. He spills himself inside of her and collapses in a heap of limbs, still inside, still connected.

It's a brief moment of completeness, a flicker, and she allows herself in her weakened state to consider Jaime's fantasy.
Re: Fill: Weakeness (Jaime/Cersei) - misstopia on March 19th, 2012 03:13 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill: Weakeness (Jaime/Cersei) - embossedsilver on March 19th, 2012 03:21 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill: Weakeness (Jaime/Cersei) - lainemontgomery on March 19th, 2012 03:18 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill: Weakeness (Jaime/Cersei) - embossedsilver on March 19th, 2012 03:23 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Fill: Weakeness (Jaime/Cersei) - cassandranoelle on March 19th, 2012 06:37 am (UTC) (Expand)
an owl on the sill in the evening: Gaston thinkingmisstopia on March 19th, 2012 02:33 am (UTC)
Jaime/Brienne, clothes on
(Deleted comment)
evenruinsevenruins on March 19th, 2012 02:36 am (UTC)
Asha/Ygritte, weapon play
a girl with kaleidoscope eyes: amy hairporna_cherrytree on March 19th, 2012 02:56 am (UTC)
o h
hello there fic I never knew I wanted more than anything
an owl on the sill in the evening: facepalmmisstopia on March 19th, 2012 02:40 am (UTC)
Cersei/Margaery, alternating dominance
margaeryrainbowmargaeryrainbow on March 20th, 2012 05:02 am (UTC)
the lion and the rose
"You won't take my son from me," Cersei hissed. She wanted to hit the girl before her, but Margaery simply smiled, chestnut curls twirling down to her waist.

"If you were so worried, why is it you let me marry BOTH of your sons," Margaery smirked, playing the innocent. Cersei let out a low growl.

"If I had known what game your vile family was playing I would have had all of you on the chopping block before you even got to bat one of your eyelashes."

"We've grown all over your domain, Mother," Margaery smiled sweetly. "We've grown into the heart of your people, twined around your children, and what do you have left that is yours?"

Cersei did not speak, but instead slapped Margaery hard across those rosy cheeks. She gasped as the girl's hands gripped her golden locks and crushed their lips together. With a shuddered gasp, Margaery pulled away only to shove Cersei down onto her bed.

"Who do you think you are?" Cersei hissed.

"I am Margaery of House Tyrell, you are Cersei of House Lannister, and I've never wanted to fuck a woman more in my life," Margaery smiled, untying the back of her dress with the grace of a girl experienced.

"Strong words for a 'lady'" Cersei scoffed.

Margaery dropped her dress to the floor, the curves of her hips and slimness of her waist in full display. Cersei was momentarily in shock. The very bane of her existence was tanding in front of her with every intention of sleeping with her, and she was not entirely repulsed.

"Yes, my 'Queen'. I'm certain you have said far worse," Margaery whispered, clambering onto the bed. "Now to get rid of your nightgown."

Cersei batted her away. "I can take off my own clothes, and you will speak to me with respect."

Margaery ignored her completely, heaving her dres away the moment it was loose. She descending on the lioness as though she, too, were lithe as a cat. She kissed along Cersei's neck, between her breasts, and down her stomach. Cersei rolled her eyes and grabbed Margaery's shoulders, flipping her over with a thud.

"What do you think this is, our wedding night?" she scowled, plunging her fingers deep inside the younger girl. Margaery let out a long moan as Cersei rubbed against her clit. At the same time, she thumbed along the girl's now-pert nipples. Margaery let out low, gutteral noises, and she clawed at Cersei's back, but the Queen only smirked. She would show this green girl how a real woman fucked.

Margaery came with a cry and went limp on the bed, but quickly she grabbed at Cersei's hair, locking lips with her to spin her over and beneath her.

"My turn," Margaery breathed with a mischievous smile. She put a hand on each of Cersei's thighs and plunged down to put her mouth to the other woman's cunt. She darted her tongue inside the wetness and Cersei took in a deep rasping breath, holding back from tangling her fingers in the other girl's hair. She would not show her an ounce of love. Instead, she clawed at Margaery's arms, doing what she could to draw blood.

Margaery's tongue moved about inside Cersei, elliciting gasps and moans from the woman. She felt heat rush up her body, and her vision went spotted, and she finally gave in and knotted her hands into Margaery's brown locks, pulling violently at her until she herself came.

Margaery crawled back on top of Cersei, wiping her mouth, and she planed one peck on her lips before clambering off the bed to pick up her dress.

"That's it?" Cersei asked with a smirk. "There's so much wonder about that cunt of yours and that's all it takes to get it? And here I thought you had more in you... I was expecting gold to come pouring out."

Margaery turned, tying her dress up with the same skill and precision she had untied it with. She smiled.

"Well, I'm not one to tarry about. I thank you, mother. I look forward to the next time you can teach me a lesson."

Edited at 2012-03-20 06:13 am (UTC)
Re: the lion and the rose - misstopia on March 20th, 2012 04:40 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: the lion and the rose - margaeryrainbow on March 21st, 2012 05:54 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: the lion and the rose - lainemontgomery on March 21st, 2012 12:53 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: the lion and the rose - margaeryrainbow on March 21st, 2012 05:53 am (UTC) (Expand)
Cassandra.cassandranoelle on March 19th, 2012 02:44 am (UTC)
Tywin/Catelyn, hate sex
(Anonymous) on March 21st, 2012 11:02 am (UTC)
She does not show any emotion.

"You're a Southron girl," he whispers into her neck. "Act like one, at least." She tenses and hisses at him.

"Family, duty, honour, eh Cat? Do you act like this for your precious Ned?"

She does not reply. She is doing this to save her husband. She would do anything for Ned, anything for their children, and their children need Ned, and they need her, and they need Winterfell. So she will abide with this arrangement with Tywin.

'We must leave,' she thinks as Tywin's hands find their way under her skirts. 'Right away. I will do this, and then we must leave.'

Tywin lets his nails scratch against Catelyn's thighs. She hisses and squeezes her eyes shut.

Those scratches are becoming insistent. "Let yourself go, Tully. Surely you haven't turned to frost like the rest of those Northron cunts. Where's your firepower?"

"Easy for a Lannister to say," she murmurs. "Tell me, what are these rumours about your children?"

"Tyrion?" he questions, deliberately misunderstanding.

"You know what I'm talking about, Lannister."

His eyes meet hers and she gasps; instead of usual Lannister deceit and mirth, she sees a twisted version of hatred.

She manages to pre-empt his left hand coming up to strike her, and kicks him in the left shoulder. He winces, but he does not take his right hand away from under her skirts; infact, he tightens his hold on her thigh.

"Hurry up, Lannister." She is trying to sound bored, trying to sound as if she has done this a million times before. As if Ned hadn't been the only man who knew her. 'I must do this. I must do this. If I have to lie back and think of Winterfell, I shall. I shall do this. This will be eas--OH!'

Tywin has tired of waiting and has plunged two fingers inside of her; she is almost ashamed to see how wet she is for him. She meets his gleeful face with stone.

"I hate you," she hisses. "I am only doing this to save my husband and my children and my home. Don't you dare think otherwise. I swear before the Seven, Tywin Lannister, if you dare think other--"

"I hate you too." She narrows her eyes at the fact that he has cut her off--Ned would never do that--however, it is amazing how he can still keep a straight face when two of his fingers are inside her cunt.

When he finally stops the tricks and moves inside of her, she does not whisper 'I love you. Sweetling. Darling. My dearest. You are the best, the very best.' That is what she does with Ned, and that will not do.

Instead, even as she climaxes, words of hatred are on her tongue.

Tywin does not say anything; his head his in her neck and she is surprised to find that his breath is not putrid like first expected. Instead, he smells of musk and sandalwood, gold and crimson. Like a lion.

The trout may have offered itself to the lion's jaws. But the trout is fast, and slippery, and the trout is certain that the lion will not win.

Even if it means that for once she does not regard her honour. But her family and her duty are still intact.

(no subject) - lainemontgomery on March 21st, 2012 12:36 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - cassandranoelle on March 21st, 2012 06:01 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - lydzi on March 21st, 2012 08:46 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - blackcigars on March 21st, 2012 10:35 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(Anonymous) on March 19th, 2012 02:49 am (UTC)
Jaime/Loras, close enough
(Anonymous) on March 19th, 2012 02:51 am (UTC)
Asha/Sansa, fingering
(Anonymous) on March 19th, 2012 02:55 am (UTC)
Catelyn/Ned, being pregnant makes Cat horny
Junojuno_chan on March 22nd, 2012 04:44 am (UTC)


At his side, his wife turns and thrashes, the furs kicked off and tangled about her ankles. Normally he would be concerned, would ask what troubles her, but by now he knows what ails her, he can tell by the pattern of her breathing, by the way she presses her thighs together.

During the day she goes about the business of running the household, she watches Robb spar, sings to Sansa, chases Arya as she races on unsteady legs, there is always a joy to her when she is with child, and this time is no different. What is different are the times she grasps at Ned with hands and mouth and hair, wild and insatiable and lustful, and he scrambles to keep up with her sudden desperate need.

She is trying to be considerate, he knows; the hunting party had returned chilled and worn and late, and only the thought of bed and blissed sleep had gotten him through dinner. But her movements keep him awake, and clearly she must be satisfied if either of them are to rest tonight.

Her moan is one almost of relief as he rolls over, weary, and kisses her, and he laughs a bit against her mouth as she grabs at the back of his neck with one hand, the other reaching down to grasp his cock, I married a shier maid than this. He catches her wrist between his fingers before she reaches him and she nips at his bottom lip in response, letting out a growl of impatience (there is more wolf to her than she knows, he thinks) but he pays her no mind. The exhaustion of hours in the saddle is pressing against the back of his eyes with a dull ache, and it will be quicker to finish her and ease her discomfort and perhaps then, they could both sleep.

“Lie still,” he mumbles against her lips, and moves his mouth, kissing her jaw and down to the hollow of her throat where her pulse flutters wildly. He nips her lightly there, and he feels rather than hears her whimper; he continues down, over the swell of her breast, catching the tip in his mouth through her thin shift, and he feels her nails bite into the back of his neck as she shivers and arches into his touch.

He slides his hand over the soft curve of her belly, reaches under her shift and presses his fingers between her legs and the slickness there, small wonder she does not sleep. Cat lets out a strangled gasp, her legs falling open to his touch, her fingers twisting through his hair as he slides two fingers inside her, thumb pressing down. “Ned,” she mumbles, a hint of a plea as she rocks against him.

He pulls back, away, and she gives a whine of protest before he lifts her calf to his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, letting his teeth brush the tender skin there. Catelyn bites her lip and he can feel the coiled tension in her leg, the muscle trembling, and he slides forward so that her heel is brushing against his back.

She cries out even before his mouth touches her, and he catches her hips in his hands as she jerks upward, pressing her back to the mattress. He breathes against her lightly before letting his lips touch her, tongue brushing against her opening before pressing inside, and her thighs tremble with need, breath coming in stuttering, choked gasps. He moves his mouth up to the small nub of nerves, taking it between his lips and sucking while he presses his fingers inside her again, and from there, as he thought, it does not take long.

Her cry is louder and sharper than before, and she twists underneath him, hands clawing at the mattress, at him, for purchase, head tossed back on the pillow and hair everywhere, leg shaking on his shoulder as she comes apart.

Cat gives him a hazy smile as he places her leg back on the bed, eyes clouded with satisfaction, hair damp at her forehead, and he hasn’t seen her so still and settled in days. He’s more than half hard at this point despite his weariness and he feels his cock twitch at the sight of her lying there languid with her shift bunched around her waist, the taste of her still on his lips. He rests a hand to her side, considering, but then leans over and simply kisses her cheek. “Go to sleep.”

He has learned that when sleep is offered, he should always choose it; these respites are brief anymore – she will be awake again in a few hours.

Edited at 2012-03-22 02:07 pm (UTC)
(no subject) - lainemontgomery on March 22nd, 2012 05:02 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - juno_chan on March 22nd, 2012 06:27 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - fields195 on March 22nd, 2012 09:05 pm (UTC) (Expand)
evenruinsevenruins on March 19th, 2012 03:29 am (UTC)
future Sansa/Myrcella, on the throne
an owl on the sill in the evening: movie: Rear Windowmisstopia on March 19th, 2012 03:32 am (UTC)
Ned/Cat, comfort sex right after the war (he's been giving her her space because of the Jon thing but he's just a man he has needs and sometimes it's just easier not to have to feel it sometimes it's easier not to have dreams etc etc yes this is what I want)
Laine Montgomerylainemontgomery on March 19th, 2012 03:40 am (UTC)
Jaime/Alayne Stone- he ends up in the Vale and doesn't recognize Alayne as Sansa and tries to drown out the endless "Lancel-Kettleblack-Moon Boy" angst by finally fucking somebody
sundance kid: those thieving birds1964 on March 19th, 2012 07:44 pm (UTC)
!!!! yes!!! please!!! someone!
(no subject) - lainemontgomery on March 20th, 2012 01:31 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - 1964 on March 20th, 2012 01:55 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - iorwen107 on March 21st, 2012 12:23 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - dk65 on March 21st, 2012 11:04 am (UTC) (Expand)
Deryn: devilgrrlderyn on March 19th, 2012 03:50 am (UTC)
Oberyn/Cersei, vengeful hatesex (at least for him)
(Anonymous) on March 19th, 2012 05:01 am (UTC)
Jon/Sam, huddling for warmth