#preferences

The storm is loud when he wants to, gentle whenever he wishes as well. In bed, it is only right for him to sing to the Gods. To laugh until they deem him sinful, until their grievance at his pleasures is known, for he does not waste his voice, the thunder of it heard through the heavens. And Lyonel just won't shut up.

His groans soak into your ear. Into your hair and skin. Their warmth veils your senses, their urgency rouses them aflame. Oftentimes, they are thrown into the air, staining it with their obscenities as his form arches into the delights. Their filth would make one think he is in a brothel, not a marital bed. “Good little lady… yes, such a good—oh, riiight there—good girl,” the storm lord can't hold himself back from drowning you in sweet praises, all the while his cock is raging feral into you.

— Baelor

Decency is a virtue Baelor came to honour. Yet, he is just a man. One of the realm, to be sure — but your man, most importantly.

His voice rarely rises, in anger or not. It is calm, even with his hips slowly rutting into the depths of your velvet caverns. “The matters of council are improving,” he says, duty always in his mind. Even now, with you laid bare for him to dine on. Yet, the way those words flow out of his lips tastes sweet. His tone is honeyed — smooth and cloying as it pours over you. As if he's burying a hidden part of his being in you.

“If everything goes well, there won't be any more need for concern—oh…” his voice breaks on a soft grunt. His eyes flutter closed, as though to recall composure suited to a prince. Or relish this pleasure, one that nothing can steal away. His gaze opens back to you, heavier than before. “You look beautiful, dear,” he whispers, finds a tighter pace of his cock dragging within you.

A shaky sigh leaves him; he plants it in the hollow of your neck. A gentle moan pursues.

— Maekar

He's not a man of kind words. They don't slip his tongue easily. He speaks in grunts. Curt words of convenience. Maekar’s pale gaze tells a tale of constant discontent — anger buried beneath the pallid marble of his face. The snow on his complexion doesn't melt away, even in bed with you. It freezes tighter. Hard and concentrated in the veneer of bliss. The grunts of his last long, morph into growls fitted to a dragon. And yet, they wake louder, louder, louder — so blaring loud for the very Gods to hear. Terse words abandon him, useless things, for they cannot absorb the very relief that has his form trembling above you. Not as much as his noise.

Maekar tries to drown his calls of pleasure in your body, your neck damp under their heat. They roam through the insides of your guts. Stroke the very places nothing else can — as if reaching for your soul. “Fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—” he chants with each swat of flesh joined together in the hunt for spill and something much cruder. The sheer satisfaction of fucking you. “Ohh, you are my ruin—Gods be good…”

— Aerion

The dragon snarls, rumbles. Bashes about and bears his fangs in tearing roars. He doesn't whine, doesn't mewl — a dragon he is ought to preserve his dignity. A true dragon takes. But his breath hitches. Leaves in pants and huffs of steam out of his nostrils. For even he isn't immune to the pleasures of your body, of his senses. He chokes on gasps he doesn't wish you to hear — to know what you do to him. And you do a lot. Too much. It makes him tremble; the pretty eyelashes of his flutter with the tremors shaking his body.

His hand pushes at your head, drowning your mouth further around his cock. A low hiss slips from between his teeth. His hips lift into the heat hidden behind your lips. His grasp narrows in your hair with a satisfied rumble rolling in his chest. “Good… serve your dragon,” his voice is paler, its usual poise and grace wrapped in quiet vulnerability.

His breathing quickens. It beats with waking urgency — erratic, weak. He hates it as much as he loves your touch, your worship. His eyes close with a rare moan. An odd, soft thing falling from his lips. Another one follows, one he cannot repress. It shames him to be gasping at the release you bring him to, yet he doesn't stop it.

baelor "breakspear" targaryen

— although your marriage is arranged, he would treat you as equal and respectful.

— he would formally petition the king to ensure your lands and dowry remain protected under your own name.

— every morning, he would share his private breakfast with you to discuss the day’s petitions and seek your genuine opinion on court matters.

— remembers every minor detail you mention, from your favorite flower to a distant cousin you dislike, and adjust court functions to suit you.

— you would never have to worry about spies, as he would personally ensure your household staff is loyal only to you.

— in public, he would always defer to you first, making sure the high lords of westeros see you as his equal in power and mind.

— he would likely spend his limited free time reading to you or walking in the gardens, treating the marriage as a partnership of mutual growth.

— would spend the first moon of the marriage living in separate chambers to allow you to adjust to dragonstone at your own pace

"our families bound us for peace, but i hope we can build a home for ourselves. tell me, which of these lords do you trust least? i value your instincts over my spies."

duncan the tall

— there is no way he would be forced into an arranged marriage so let’s just imagine.

— maybe he got you pregnant after he was too weak to pull out on your first night together, and you agreed to get married to give this child a stable home (because he never had one when he was younger).

— he would be incredibly apologetic about his lack of a family name, likely trying to make up for it by performing every chivalrous act he can think of.

— he would spend his meager coin on small, thoughtful trinkets from every village he passes through—a carved wooden bird or a pretty ribbon.

— you would find him checking the locks on your doors and the sturdiness of your carriage multiple times a day out of pure protective instinct.

— he would get flustered and turn bright red if you offered him a genuine compliment, often tripping over his own boots in the process.

— he would teach you how to defend yourself with a dagger or a short blade, insistently worrying about your safety whenever he isn't there.

"i'm not much of a lord, and i know these boots have more holes than a fishing net, but i'll give my life to keep you smiling. does the saddle fit you alright?"

maekar targaryen

— couldn’t care less about you at first. he’s just going to ignore you.

— he would be brutally honest with you, never layering his words with the "honey" or "lies" common in king's landing.

— would rarely praise you, but he would defend your decisions to his brother baelor or the king with terrifying ferocity.

— his version of romance would be ensuring you have the finest guard detail and the most efficient stewards in the seven kingdoms.

— he would likely be a "ghost" in the house, spending hours in his training yard or study, but he would always appear at the dinner table at the exact same time.

— he would expect a high level of discipline from the household, but he would never raise his voice to you, preferring a cold, respectful silence.

— his letters would be short and functional: "arrived safely. the king is ill. the children need new cloaks. maekar."

— but once he has warmed up to you you can expect to have at least a small army of children running around (he has six children after all🤭)

"this castle is your fortress as much as mine. i expect the servants to obey you as they do me. if they don't, tell me once, and they will be replaced."

valarr targaryen

— knows that it is his duty to marry someone of noble birth so he was kinda prepared.

— like father like son, would treat you with respect.

— he would curate your public image to perfection, ensuring you are always wearing the latest fashions from across the narrow sea.

— he would be the type to hold your hand under the table during long, boring royal feasts to keep you entertained.

— immense pressure to produce heirs quickly to secure the line of succession.

— spent his life trying to live up to his father, who was perhaps the greatest man of his age. your role would likely involve providing emotional support for a husband who constantly feels he isn't "enough" compared to his father.

— in private, he would likely vent his frustrations about the pressures of being the heir to the throne, trusting you as his sole confidant.

"duty calls for a few hours," he murmurs. "save a dance for me at the feast tonight. i’ll need a reason to ignore the tyrells."

lyonel baratheon

— he doesn’t even care that this marriage is arranged.

— he would throw a massive tourney in your honor every single year, regardless of whether the treasury could actually afford it.

— he would constantly challenge people to wrestling matches or duels if they so much as looked at you with a sideways glance.

— your home would be filled with the sound of his booming laughter, hounds barking, and a constant stream of knightly guests.

— drags you along on hunting trips, insisting you sit on the most magnificent horse in the stables.

— he treats you like his fucking best friend.

— you would never have to wonder where you stand with him; he wears his heart on his sleeve and would be your loudest supporter.

"did you see that, my lady? i broke four lances for you today! tonight, we shall have a feast that will be sung about for a hundred years!"

daeron "the drunkard" targaryen

— can’t believe that some lord agreed to marry off his daughter to him of all people.

— he would likely just agree with everything without looking just to get it over with.

— he would be completely hands-off, allowing you to run the household, the finances, and the social calendar exactly how you want.

— he would often disappear for days into his "cups" or his books, but he would always leave a note or a small apology for his absence.

— shares his dreams with you in whispers, treated as a dark secret.

— you would find him to be a very gentle, if somewhat pathetic, partner who would rather hide in your shadow than lead.

— he would never judge your flaws or mistakes, mostly because he feels his own are so much worse.

"i had a nightmare again," he slurs as he enters your bedchamber already smelling of the wine he probably drank after he woke up. "can i stay with you tonight?"

aerion "brightflame" targaryen

— definitely didn’t want to marry a pathetic little thing like you (he tells you that everyday)

— would still treat you like a prized possession, dressing you in red and black.

— becomes cruel or manipulative, using your family or your reputation as a weapon to make sure you stay in your place.

— he would demand your absolute attention at all times, becoming agitated if you show interest in anyone or anything else.

— he would expect you to agree with his most delusional claims.

— he would be highly unpredictable, switching from being overly charming to cold and demanding in the span of a single dinner.

— there is no partnership; there is only his will.

— he makes sure that you don’t embarrass him (bc he embarrasses himself already enough.)

— he would use your marriage to provoke his male relatives, constantly trying to prove that his "consort" is superior to theirs.

"everyone is staring at us because we are the only ones here with the blood of old valyria. don't look at them; look at me. i am the only one who matters."

sanji was in the kitchen, when zoro and nami came in, snickering. he raised an eyebrow, taking the two in and immediately knowing they were up to something.

“what’s got the two of you so giddy?”

“she’s at it again! third book of the week.”

sanji’s mouth twitched up, already knowing exactly who they were referring to. “she loves her books…”

“do you know the content of these books, sanji?”

“getting rather nosey, are we not?”

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen zoro so red! he choked and nearly fell down.”

sanji lifted an eyebrow, smirk still evident, amusement only growing, “flustered so easily, mosshead?”

“sanji! aren’t you aware of what she’s reading?” nami was beside herself with amusement, clearly expecting sanji to react poorly and have one of his rare jealousy fits.

“i’m well aware of what she reads.”

zoro squared his shoulders, lifting his eyebrows.

“and you’re….” nami raised her eyebrows, “okay? like you’re not getting all..?”

sanji stopped scrubbing the stove and raised his eyebrows, “all?”

“jealous and overprotective and insecure.” zoro popped a handful of sliced berries into his mouth to which sanji shot him a glare.

sanji slid the bowl of fruit away from zoro and leaned in slightly, smirk deepening, “who do you think she comes to after reading parts of her delightful little books?”

luffy was stretched out on the ram’s head, eyes closed against the sun and seawater breeze. he reached up to adjust his head before realizing that he did not have it and had left his hat in a very safe place.

you were leaning back against the mast, knees bent and book propped open in your lap. your hand rested on top of your head, adjusting the hat that was so perfectly shading your eyes and the pages you read.

“that’s quite the view!”

you glanced up, squinting up at luffy with a small smile. “are you here for your hat? because it’s quite convenient and makes wonderful shade. i’m quite attached to it, actually…”

luffy settled down ungracefully beside you, all smiles and bright eyes as he draped his arm around you in a way that pulled your hair and knocked your shoulder into his, “you can wear my hat for however long you want. ‘looks good on you.”

“whatcha reading?”

“new book.”

“is it good?”

“i think so…”

“what is it about?”

you smiled to yourself, turning to look at luffy, as you tucked your thumb on your page and closed the book, taking him in with a soft expression.

“it’s actually about pirates.”

luffy perked up, shifting rapidly. legs crossed beneath him, attention fully on you, “sounds like my kind of story!”

“it is a love story, you know. the pirate prince is quite romantic. good fighter too…”

luffy eyed you, eyes narrowing slightly with a skeptical expression, “as good as me? i think it would be cool to be a pirate prince… not as good as king. but maybe second best… does this pirate prince have a cool power? how would he compare to me?”

you smiled to yourself, clearly your attempt to playfully provoke him had not worked, “no, luffy... he wouldn’t compare to you at all…” you returned luffy’s hat to his head and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving your book forgotten as luffy continued talking about all the things he would do when he becomes pirate king.

zoro knew something was up with you by the way your eyes had not left the page in over thirty seconds. your eyes scanned the same section of the page over and over and zoro grunted. his eyes stayed fixed on you, waiting for the moment you would inevitably blush or glance up at him with an embarrassed, yet dangerous smile.

“good book?” zoro turned his attention back to his swords, having just innocently reminded you that he was there, not letting you know that the suspense was slowly driving him crazy.

“hmm?” you hummed in acknowledgment, looking up slowly, pupils wider than they should have been and cheeks pink. zoro took your in with a smug smirk, crossing the ship and kneeling in front of you in one and half strides. “let me see it…” he sighed with an exasperated, yet amused smirk, holding his hand out awaiting the reveal.

you straightened, “oh—“ you rubbed your face and stretched you back slightly, “it’s not what you think.”

zoro was already reading the page himself, eyebrow lifted, ignoring your protests and unnecessary embarrassment, “rather unrealistic, but i’ll try my best…”

you furrowed your eyebrows and glanced to where his thumb was. you nearly shrieked, “not that!” you snatched the book away and relocated the paragraph, pointing with your thumb.

zoro read it once. “oh, i can do that.” then again. “hold on…”

you opened your mouth to tell him to stop whatever it was he was planning and not embarrass you further, but he had already disappeared to his room. he returned moments later, hands wrapped and black tank top already showing off his muscles.

“zoro—“

“you seemed to be really into that..general’s..workout. so i’ll give you the live show. sit.”

you did not argue with him. you had already lost the page in your book as his workout shirt came off completely.

shanks glanced across the beach, squinting slightly into the sun. he had lost sight of you— something he normally prided himself on— and stood to his feet with a deep sigh.

“where did you go, my love?”

you were curled up in a hammock on the beach, below the makeshift roof. your ankles were crossed, shank’s jacket draped over you like a blanket. shanks took one look at you and raised his eyebrows, “reading inside on a day like today?”

“i was outside. the sun punished me for it…”

shanks raised his eyebrows again, now smiling softly, sympathetic, “was your book truly so enthralling that you had to get sunburned before you could move inside?”

“the protagonist reminds me of you, thank you very much.”

there was that innocent, fond smirk again— his soft eyes on you like he could watch you forever, “is that so? one armed pirate? red hair? devilishly handsome? far too charming for his own good?”

you lowered your book slightly to glance at him with a small smile, “sounds familiar…”

“ah ha,” shanks shook his head with an exasperated smile, “lie down, love. i’ll see to that sunburn before you go sun sick.”

you exhaled slowly, glancing up at him cheekily as you rolled over. “you’re interrupting my reading.”

Ron Weasley:

when he met you, it was like merlin himself bestowed the greatest, heavenly gift to him

with his millions of siblings and legendary and powerful best friends, it's hard for him not to feel inferior or covered in a mirky shadow

but since you decided to choose him, which he still doesn't understand, he worships you

he always mentions you in conversation. to the point that the twins start to tease him and mention you before ron can

he knows all of your favorite things: sweets, class, professor, shop, t-shirt, drink, food, color...everything

he doesn't have a lot of money, so he makes up for the lack of material gifts with the expert knowledge of you

he'll save you an extra pumpkin pasty because he knows you love them. he'll pick the flower on the way back from hogsmeade for you.

however, he gets jealous super easily. dean thomas asks for a quill from you -> jealous. harry asks you a question about herbology homework -> jealous. justin finch fletchley glances at you for a moment to long -> jealous

he is easy to soothe though, a kiss will solve quite anything. he's wrapped around your finger

he will defend you viciously around others, he'll never let a bad word about you slide around him

he loves pda, an arm around you at all times. a kiss before class and after. he wants everyone to know that you chose him

Neville Longbottom:

he showers you with compliments all day long and will be your number one supporter

he goes out of his way to tell you how much he loves your insecurities

he is very shy, and will always ask you for input

"should i wear this sweater?", "can i walk you to class?", "can we hang out later, no pressure"

new flowers every two weeks, they always include a variation of your favorite flower

loves study dates, especially herbology because it is one of the few things he exudes confidence with

always tells you how proud he is of you

doesn't like pda, he is very private with his relationship

but he is the first person to praise/congratulate you in your big moments

he gets picked on a lot by others and it does get to him at times, so be prepared to comfort him like he does for you

Fred Weasley:

he is quite the flirt and will take any chance to make you blush

a wink when passing in the halls, a quick innuendo whispered in your ear in class, and longing touches when out with friends

will never let you open a door for yourself, will sprint ahead of you to open the classroom door

has a reputation for being a prankster, and you are not off limits when it comes to being pranked

however your pranks are very light and silly compared to most of his other victims

you are the first person (besides george) he tells about any new idea for his joke shop products

you know the saying you're not just dating a person, but their entire family - this is true for fred

george and lee are almost always with the two of you, very little privacy

He once asked george to switch spots with him to prank you, you could tell right away once george didn't immediately try to kiss you when you saw him that morning

he does get jealous at times, but mostly when you laugh to hard at someone's joke, he is the only one who can make you laugh like that

will always include you when going out with friends and invite you to quidditch practices always

George Weasley:

he is definitely more reserved than fred, but is still very extroverted

more outward with his pda though -> arm around your shoulder or waist at all times

doesn't like to prank you because he would rather you be included and contribute to his pranks

is also a flirt, but it's mostly compliments and telling you how good you look

there is always a smile on his face around you

will also include you in everything he does, thinks, or says

jealousy just runs in the weasley family, but he will sit with it quietly and you will just have to wonder why marcus flint was left hanging off the witch statue by his robe the next morning

loves to tease you

will moves strands of hair away from your face and just smile at you

loves to stare you, whenever you look up from your potion in class his eyes are piercing into you

loves to give weird gag gifts to you, then right afterwards surprise you with something you actually wanted

Draco Malfoy:

rivals harry with his sassy demeanor, obligatory eye roll every thirty minutes

a hand at the small of your back guiding you when walking

a smirk is always on his face along with a suggestive comment coming out of it at the sight of you

always has his silver rings and chain on

will make fun of others with you

during his quidditch games, he will show off for you and point to you

will entertain other girls' attention, then call you over to show you off

cares about appearance a lot

will tell the sweetest stories about his mother, but only to you and in the privacy of a dorm

is a huge cuddler, but do not tell anyone he is very worried about that getting out

a perfect afternoon for him is harry tripping and embarrassing himself, and then cuddling with you in his dorm after

is very competitive, whether it's class performance or a quick game of wizard's chess be prepared for him to try too hard