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#ned stark x reader
cdragons · 2 days
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❄︎ House Stark & Spicy Food ❄︎ - w/ spicy loving reader
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Cries if there's too much pepper:
All of them, Sansa and Robb - these two will actually die if they have the slightest sense of heat to any food they try. Like their hair, they get it from their mother.
Robb will try so hard to pretend that he has any spice tolerance...he doesn't...he REALLY doesn't
This boy wants to impress you so badly while also dying and you are not being very helpful bc you keep laughing at how red his face gets
You didn't even put that much in, it was barely a dash of cayenne or one jalapeno seed and he will DIE
If you ever try to put spice in his dishes, he will look at you with the biggest look of betrayal
Redding Wedding what? Nope, the real, most unforgivable act of treason against this King of the North was putting a ghost pepper in his stew after he pissed you off and drinking all his water to make sure that there wasn't any left near him.
Are the two of you married? Does not matter - off to the dungeons with you.
Okay, not really, but he will be seriously pissed and have a huge pouty face for the rest of the week.
He feels even more betrayed when he sees Grey Wind sleeping next to you after you put the pepper in his food.
"Are you on my side or hers?" - Grey Wind is on Team Cuddles and Being Spoiled.
If you end up eating something too spicy for you, he WILL be the most insufferable person about it
Sansa is literally no different, if not worse, than her brother.
Everything that was written above -> multiply that by 10000 in terms of spice intolerance, and you get Sansa.
She does NOT care about impressing you with improving her spice tolerance.
You could try to convince her that spicy food is better for her body and there are a ton of health benefits, but you will FAIL
You once gave her a Cubanelle pepper (About 1,000 SHU) bc the only less spicy option was a bell pepper and bell peppers are only peppers in name and not in spirit
She did not react well
She RAN 🏃‍♀️ to the well and drank the water out of the pail.
...Was it bad that you laughed at her reaction? Yes
Would you do it again? Also, yes
Was it totally worth being banned from nighttime cuddles and kisses for an entire month?...Okay, maybe you won't do it again
You could make fun of her unseasoned potatoes and closer-to-water soup all you want. She is not interested in damaging her stomach lining and developing stomach cancer.
She WILL make fun of you if you end up eating something too spicy for YOU, and you let her because you love seeing her more childish smile and side.
Slightly Dying, but Otherwise Okay and Kind of Digs It:
Jon can eat spicy foods...theoretically.
He's eaten Wilding food and the rotten food from Castle Black -> compared to that, he can take a little heat.
He was wrong - He was so very, VERY wrong. Your level of heat and spice was something that only a demon could take.
Jon was convinced that you were part dragon bc he can't think of any other reason as to how and WHY you put yourself through this?
Eventually, he DOES develop a bit of spice tolerance, and you take full credit for it, especially because this means his taste palette is more on your level. You aren't as afraid of accidentally killing him with your cooking preferences.
But it ends up lowkey backfiring on him bc you won't stop sneaking spicy food into his meals, and sometimes Tormund and his brothers in Black will sneak a bite off his plate (no one died...everyone lives...shhhhhhhhh)
Sam is dead - he died, you killed him. Gilly is officially out for your blood, and little Sam is raised with the single goal of piercing you with a pointy stick bc you killed his dad.
Pyp and Edd are also lowkey dying. Still, they actually enjoy the heat and are always happy to taste test for your dishes...despite their bowels hating them for it
Grenn and Tormund fucking LOVE the heat. They can easily down bowl after bowl after bowl of your cooking.
Bran SHOULD not eat spicy food...but he does because it makes you so happy, and he will literally do anything for your smile and cuddles.
Like his love of climbing and scary stories, he honestly lives for the thrill of taking the heat.
All of his siblings are terrified he's going to get a stomach ulcer one day because he keeps adding more spice to his food, and they are ALL blaming you, and you're just like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
While he's traveling with Osha, Hodor, Rickon, and Reed Siblings, it's your cooking that helps keep them warm.
When he becomes the Three-Eyed Raven and King of the Seven Kingdoms, he and you will go to the kitchens to make your favorite dishes from your shared past because it brings a little of the old Bran back.
It's only around you that he can still smile and laugh, and you love him no matter what.
Love Spicy Food and Can ACTUALLY Take it
Arya LOVESSSSS the heat - All Day, Everyday Baby
While she was in Braavos and training in the House of Black and White, she sampled so many dishes and spices from the markets.
This opened a whole new world to her tastebuds, and when she returned to Winterfell - she still loved the food because it was all the food of her childhood, but it just tasted...boring.
You and her actually met while she was training in Braavos, and your family ran a spice stall in one of the markets.
You were fascinated by the girl and always offered a warm meal and housing if she ever needed it. While cooking for her, Arya would tell you stories about Ned and Jon and all her other siblings.
When she reunited with her family at Winterfell, she thought it was adorable how happy and excited you were to meet them. She also highly encouraged you to share one of your spiciest dishes with them.
Bran didn't have much of a reaction save for a small cough, but Jon immediately reached for his water while Sansa just fainted from the shock of the heat assault in her mouth.
Rickon is the only sibling who can actually eat your food and so he automatically becomes your favorite Stark after Arya.
Rickon and you met while traveling with your siblings (Meera and Jojen) to find Bran. You carried many foreign spices with you (for whatever reason).
Immediately, he was smitten with you because you were the youngest sibling around his age. Shaddydog also loved you from the beginning, which helped your case.
A lot of the spices you carried also had medicinal purposes, so you were in charge of cooking while Meera handled the weapons and Jojen helped guide Bran to the 3ER.
It was during the coldest and most freezing blizzard nights, you used one of your hottest spices to make a stew. It was a miracle by fate that Rickon LOVED it.
Since then, he's always begging you to put hotter spices in the meals, but you refuse bc your spices are expensive and because you don't want to accidentally kill the rest of the "Save The World" Gang.
Shaddydog is a huge issue when you're making food because he's very curious about all the different smells and tastes, and you have to keep booping his nose out of the way because you love adding garlic, and it's not good for canines to eat garlic and salt.
*BONUS*
Catelyn - cannot eat anything spicy for the life of her
Ned - same as his wife, tbh lol
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llonelygoddess · 6 months
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Yandere House Stark Headcanons
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A/N: I ended up not doing Bran and Rickon only because I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later and they were a little difficult to write for. If you'd like to see headcanons for them I can definitely make another post for them, just let me know.
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Let's say you are a low born person looking for refuge in Winterfell after your village was sacked by Wildlings. You had hoped to find some tavern to hold up in or even a brothel, but unbeknownst to you the Stark family kept an eye on newcomers. When they received news of your arrival, they requested your presence. It was only to talk about the possibility of nearby Wildlings, but when YOU showed up beaten and scared for your life- how could they not offer their Stark hospitality?
This is where the yandere tendencies begin.
Ned Stark, as a yandere, is protective and definitely has a savior complex. He's an honorable and just man that can't help but bring home strays, so when he sees you it's like finding Jon all over again. A deep sense of responsibility comes over him and he knows in that moment that you are just as much his as any of his kids. From that day forward he assigns a room for you in the castle and a handmaiden to keep you company, not that you'll be needing it. The family of course is shocked at his sudden interest, but they all love to see him happy and nothing makes him more happy than seeing you taken care of.
Now Catelyn is initially worried that Ned has taken a romantic interest in you, but when she sees the way you both interact she understands the fatherly bond he is trying to create very similar to his own kids. It didn't take long for her to fall into her own yandere tendencies; checking in on you in the mornings, making prayer wheels even when you're not sick, helping in the kitchen to make sure your food was perfect ( and not poisoned). She takes her role as your surrogate mother very seriously,sometimes to the extent of watching you sleep or ordering guards to discreetly watch over you and report back. Her biggest worry is that you'll be taken away from them so she takes extra precautions to keep you safe.
Robb is head over heels for you instantly. Man is down bad. Much like his father, Robb has a savior complex and finds himself wanting to be YOUR savior always. He does this by training extra hard with Jon, keeping an eye on you at all times, and giving threatening looks to any man or woman who gets too close to you. He doesn’t mean to scare away any potential friends but he does mean to scare away potential lovers. He couldn’t bear to see you with anyone outside the family, and even then he has a sword up his butt about it. 
On the other hand, Jon takes a while to warm up to you. He loves his family and is vicious to outsiders who could harm them. Eventually, seeing how you interact with everyone makes him a tad jealous. Not of you, but of his family and how easily they can approach you. I definitely see Jon as an overprotective/stalker yandere with strong jealous tendencies that make him beg for your approval. He finds himself wherever you are, lurking in the background, waiting for the right moment to catch you alone. Jon feels like himself around you and the more time you spend together the more addicted to your presence he becomes. 
Theon is hands down THE worshiper of the group. It's a hot take for sure but as a yandere, I see Theon's insecurities and fears taking over, slightly similar to reek!Theon. He sees you as a deity, above the Lords and Ladies, even above the King/Queen themself. If it were up to him he'd be the one giving you your meals, running your baths, standing by your side as guard. He cherishes your very presence and hopes one day you'll see his never ending loyalty to you and only you. 
Sansa is very quiet about her obsession, you almost couldn't tell. She's the perfect friend, always sitting next to you at meals, gossiping about the Lords and Lady's of court, and helping you stock your wardrobe. Whatever hobby you choose to pick up, she's always there to praise you in your efforts and guide you in whatever way she can. She especially loves teaching you how to embroider as it's her specialty. It was all but normal until you came upon her private journal filled with both your names in beautiful cursive surrounded by hearts. You begin to notice the closeness she silently demands, eyeing everyone else to stay away. You see the way she longingly watches you from afar when you choose to spend time with anyone else. And your dresses, that you both so carefully picked out, seem to have a little embroidered "SS" on the nape of your neck.
Arya sees you as her golden older sibling, the one who can do no wrong. She is constantly dragging you around Winterfell - riding horses and trying to shoot arrows (and failing lol). She finds comfort within you, the only person who doesn't expect anything of her except to be herself. And for that she will never leave your side. Most nights you'll find her trying to sneak into your room to share a bed, but whether she can get past the guards Ned and Catelyn have posted outside your door is another story.
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axelsagewrites · 7 months
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Main Masterlist Here
House of the Dragon Masterlist Here
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Warnings/Guides
【P】Platonic【P】 🆇Smut 18+🆇
Request Line Up and Request Rules
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♡ Jon Snow ♡
🆇What he's like in bed🆇
Blind date
🆇Milady🆇
🆇Home Alone🆇
🆇Price of My Secrecy 🆇
Relationship Moodboard
🆇Couldn't Resist🆇
♡ Robb Stark ♡
Best Friend
Marriage night
🆇Dream🆇 🆇part two🆇
Frey Girl 🆇part two🆇
🆇I miss you🆇
Cloak
Honey Cakes (cloak part two or standalone)
Comfort
Sweet Girl
🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇
🆇Good girl🆇
Yearbook
Don't Die For Me
🆇Little Secret🆇
🆇Can't Catch a Break🆇
Goodnight Dear Husband
♡ Sandor Clegane ♡
Most People Say Goodbye Part One - Part Two
🆇Brat🆇
♡ Beric Dondarrian ♡
Home
♡ Thoros of Myr ♡
Favourite Friend
♡ Brienne of Tarth ♡
【P】Queen in the North and South【P】
♡Ned Stark♡
🆇MiLord🆇
🆇Wife🆇
♡Ramsay Bolton♡
🆇My Father Would Kill Me🆇
🆇Catch You🆇
🆇How Far Would You Go🆇
🆇Appreciate You🆇
🆇Bath🆇
🆇Little Mouse🆇
♡Roose Bolton♡
Perhaps
Not Yet
♡Edmure Tully♡
【P】Who We Call Family【P】
My Queen My Love
♡Theon Greyjoy♡
Dream of Sweet Memories
🆇Give it back🆇
♡Sansa Stark♡
Roommates
🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇
🆇What's This?🆇
Surprise Visit
♡Podrick Payne♡
🆇Praise🆇
♡Daenereys Targaryen♡
🆇My Queen🆇
♡Jamie Lannister♡
🆇Extra Credit🆇
♡Oberyn Martell♡
🆇Duty🆇
♡Margaery Tyrell♡
🆇Ropes🆇
♡Cersei♡
🆇Morning🆇
♡Tormund♡
🆇Real Man🆇
🆇Use your words🆇
♡ Yara Greyjoy ♡
Flirting
Preferences/Multicharacter
🆇Company🆇 - Yara and Ellaria threesome
🆇What they're like in bed🆇 – Robb, Jon, Sandor, Podrick
How they react to teasing – all
🆇What They're Like in Bed🆇 – Margaery, Sansa, Danny, Yara
Share pt1 🆇Competition pt2🆇 🆇Wait p3🆇 - Robb and Jon
🆇Hook ups🆇 - Theon and Jon
Love Languages - Jon, Robb, Bran, Tormund, Podrick, Oberyn
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Thanks for any support I appreciate it all xoxo Sage
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Dividers from here and here from @saradika
Post topper made on Canva
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pinkykats-place · 9 months
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GoT DILF(s) x reader insert fics
Tumblr Recommendations
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Disclaimers!
Stories are NOT mine.
Some contain mature content.
Readers are mostly female.
Note: if you read any of these stories and enjoy them pls let the author know by rebloggung, liking or commenting on original post
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Alliance
Ned Stark x second wife! Reader
Four Part Series
Surviving || Series Masterlist 
{Ned Stark x Reader}
Summary: It was a classic romance. You were barren, his wife had passed, and you’d met through your father. It was a wonder the minstrels weren’t already singing songs about you.
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Ned Stark x Fem!Reader Imagine
A Quiet Morning
Tywin Lannister x Female Reader
Summary: You enjoy a quiet morning with your Lord Husband
Under his mane 
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Series Masterlist
Imagine Tywin Lannister visiting your chambers to fulfill his son’s duty at his place (smut)
Baby Lion
Tywin Lannister x pregnant!wife!Reader
Tywin Lannister being possessive and having jealous sex would include:
Longing
Pairing: Tywin Lannister x reader 
Request: good fluffy smut with Tywin Lannister… maybe him realizing that his feelings for the reader is more than just a political marriage
Warnings: political marriage/arranged marriage, older man x younger woman, soft smut, unprotected sex 
Repeat of History
Tywin Lannister x wife!Reader
Summary: when you go into labour, Tywin worries for your safety, remembering the death of his first wife
Trouble
Tywin x Wife!Reader
Summary: Tywin takes a second wife for a purely political alliance, and ends up with far more than he expected.
Series: Tywin x Reader
Summary: Imagine finding out you are marry Tywin Lannister after the deaths of your brother and Mother, Robb and Catelyn Stark.
The Lady Lion
Tywin x Wife!Reader
Fluffy Fic
Blessed with youth 
Tywin Lannister x Tyrell!Reader
https://www.tumblr.com/gotpineapple/186244280214/blessed-with-youth-tywin-lannister-x-tyrellreader?source=share
 
Betrothed to the Wrong Brother
Stannis Baratheon x Reader
Based on this request: reader is supposed to be set up with Robert, but while at Storms End falls for Stannis instead? 
Wedding Night
Stannis Baratheon x fem!Reader
Summary: Stannis finally confesses his love for his wife
Belonging
Stannis Baratheon x Wife!Reader
Summary: Takes place around the time Robert was crowned, when Stannis and the Reader are married for less than a year. Robert’s drunkenness results in some jealousy and misunderstandings (and making up).
Steady
Stannis x Wife!Reader
Setting: just a year or two after Robert was crowned
Stannis x Arryn!Reader
Jealous kiss for our one true king, stannis
Stannis Baratheon x fem!Reader
headcanons on the relationship between Shireen Baratheon and stepmother!reader & on how the Baratheon household would change if the Reader was to marry Stannis
Headcanons for Stannis x Reader’s children
Playground (modern au)
Stannis Baratheon x fem!Reader
Summary: Reader is sister to Sandor, and meets Stannis at a playground. The reader has a toddler daughter, but the father has passed away. Shireen and the daughter start playing together, so Stannis and the reader start talking too. Soon they plan a play date and the things escalate. 
Imagine threatening to leave Roose and him letting it slip that he loves you (smut)
Roose being touch starved would include
A Northern Arrangement || Series
Roose Bolton x Reader
Imagine making a deal with Roose Bolton so he wont betray Robb and will actually warn Robb and everyone of the Frey’s impending betrayal.
Roose Bolton x Reader || Series 
Roose being gentle with you:
Losing your virginity to Roose Bolton would include:
Imagine being in a pitch-black castle with Roose Bolton.
NSFW Alphabet with Roose Bolton
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missglaskin · 1 year
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House Stark (Platonic) Yandere HCS: 
Characters-Ned, Benjen (Mention), Catelyn, Jon, Robb, Rickon, Bran, Sansa, Arya 
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Catelyn held her breath when the rumors reached her ears. Her husband once again brought a child to Winterfell. Her mind goes to Jon. She would not be able to stand having another bastard living under the same roof. To her relief, Ned brought the small child in so that he found her all alone, possibly abandoned and couldn’t leave her there, seeing that she won’t survive on her own. 
That being said, Catelyn found herself growing fond of you. She could not let you go, and it warmed her heart to see you smile. She would dismiss many of her duties just to spend all the time with you. Ensuring you were well fed and dressed, handing you to the septa to start teaching you how to read and write. It wasn’t long before Cat started to refer to you as her own. 
It certainly was a surprise to Ned. He simply wanted to provide you a haven in Winterfell, not knowing it would be his own castle. Ned voiced to Cat how she shouldn’t be so attached to you. Your biological parents may be somewhere for all they know. It also bothered him how Cat would imply that you were their child, yet Ned finds himself a hypocrite when he grows attached to you as well. 
Ned was fond of daughters and that was seen in you too. He couldn’t help the swelling of his heart. Ned loved to have you on his side, giving you a small smile whenever you would look up at him. Also, starting to have some of his trusted guards follow you around in fear for your safety. When you once accidentally referred to him as ‘father’ Ned knew there was no going back, finally seeing you as his own. 
Robb quickly grew fond of you. He already accepted Jon as his brother and with you it’s no different. More so with how close in age you both are. As your big brother, he found it his duty to protect you. Getting into fights with any boy who messes or flirts with you. Robb also loves to tease you, but as said, will let no one else do so. 
Sansa looks up to you as her older sister. She craves your attention and approval, showing you the clothes she sewed or the songs she learned. A huge smile on her face when you praise her. Sansa constantly makes excuses for you to spend more time with her. Such as her purposely messing her hair for you to brush it for her. 
Arya also wants your attention. She can be quite demanding, much more forward than the rest of her family. Pulling you by the hand to follow her. Arya has a habit of running to you and leaping into your arms. Out of everyone, she listens to you the most. Similar to Sansa, she shows you some of the moves she ‘learned’ or guides you to the places she found. 
Bran can get quite sneaky in getting your attention. There is him obviously wanting to show you his climbing skills. Watching him as you remain on the ground, reminding him to be careful. More than once, he sneaked into your chambers through your window and you scold him every time. Bran likes when you would read him stories or ruffle his hair. 
Rickon is perhaps the clingiest and needy out of all the children. As the baby of the family, he expects to receive your most affection and attention. He does get easily upset when he must separate from you. Rickon loves to follow you around the castle, his hands clutched to your dress. 
Lastly comes Jon. At first, he envied you. Watching Cat accept you in the family and treat you as her own. But Jon eventually began to become fond of you. As you are nice to him, treating him like he was a part of the family, like he was your brother. He becomes protective of you and eager to do whatever you ask of him just to please you. 
Jon also notices how Cat is starting to be a little nicer to him. Realizing she’s only doing it with you around. As you hate seeing Jon being treated badly. Jon soon finds in a lot of feasts and events that normally he wouldn’t be allowed to attend to with his legitimacy and all. If anything, this act of kindness drew Jon closer to you against Cat’s wishes. 
You are doted upon by your parents. Whatever books or furs you wish for are gifted with not much hesitance. The servants are instructed to fulfill every one of your whims and desires. You also have your siblings who will gladly do whatever you ask them to do and silently compete with one another in which gift you will love the most. 
The most who compete with one another are Sansa and Arya. Either one comes to complain about the other. Such as when Sansa whines that Arya pranked her to which then Arya argues that Sansa laughed at her with friends. You are stuck in the middle, where either sister forces you to choose a side. 
Robb and Jon follow right after, but the two are more subtle and can find a middle ground. With Jon, there has to be a lot of reassurance that you don’t care for Robb more as he feels that doesn’t deserve you. Rickon and Bran also compete with each other, which is solved by each clinging to your either side.
As mentioned Ned and Cat spoil you, which makes it hard for you to get in trouble. Ned tries to be stern, but your tears make him feel as if his heart will shatter into a million pieces. Cat doesn’t even try. In her eyes, you always be her little baby no matter how grown and that you could do no wrong. 
The whole family is fiercely protective of you. Panic spreads through the family if you ever get hurt or someone makes you cry to which the Starks will reveal their claws to whoever did this. Even a small cut on your finger is enough to have Cat and Sansa tend to it as it’s a life-threatening injury. Ned is basically the only voice of reason, but even he is deeply upset by this.
Any topic of any possible betrothals is shut down. As much as Ned is fiercely protective of you, he could allow you to marry someone who will be kind and treat you with gentleness. But the worry lies with the rest of his family. Cat, Arya, Robb, and Jon hold you close. They don’t trust anyone to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Sansa, Rickon, and Bran are terrified of the person taking you away from them. 
Benjen when he comes to visit Winterfell is happy to see you. He tries to gift you anything that he finds during his travels. When you were younger, he loved throwing you up high to the worry of Ned and Cat. Even now, there is a playfulness to him, loving to hear the sound of your laughter. 
When the family stumbled upon the direwolves. They were all so excited to show them to you. The direwolves similar to their owners have grown attached to you. If they were not following any of the Starks' children, they were found with you. It made Cat a little nervous, but Ned assures that it was a good sign. Shaggydog and Ghost are the most clingy, their noses pressed to yours as they demand you to pet them. 
The Starks are some of the most loving families. Each one of them cares for you deeply. In how they make sure you are the most comfortable and happy. In how they will shield you from whatever may come. In never making you forget how much you mean to them.
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fandom-puff · 9 months
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Anything Ned Stark. Second wife, first wife, fluff, headcanons anything. 💚❤💚❤💚 -Maris
Omgg!! Haven’t written much for Ned and haven’t written game of thrones in a while so I rlly liked this one!! I went with 2nd wife HCs for this one.
Being Ned Stark’s second wife would include…
Warnings: AU where Catelyn dies, reference to death, political/arranged marriage, age gap, reference to smut, but it’s skipped over
Gif creds to owner
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Almost a full year after catelyn had passed, Ned decided that Winterfell needed a new Lady, and his children needed a maternal figure
Of course, no one could replace Cat, who was the mother of five of his children and kept Winterfell running smoothly while he tended to his duties as warden of the north
So after much deliberation in the Godswood, he visited Lewin’s Solar and had ravens drawn up to the northern Lords
And one to King Robert himself.
it takes several moons, but soon his new bride arrives at Winterfell, accompanied by your Lord father and two of your brothers
The wedding itself is a small affair, with your vows said in the Godswood before the old gods
The children are in attendance, and the eldest among them seem aged beyond their years following the death of Lady Catelyn.
The feast afterwards is quiet, the music played quietly, the guests not yet rowdy.
You sit at the head table at Lord Eddard’s right side, your shoulders weighed down by the great grey cloak of House Stark, and the new responsibilities of the Lady of Winterfell
Soon the children are herded off to bed, and it’s time for the bedding
Your mother had discussed what would happen in the marital chamber in scant detail, so you knew the mechanics
Your father had only told you to do your duty to your house, his jaw tense
But when a rowdy fiddle player tried to liven up the festivities with his bawdy hollering and calls to strip you through the halls, Eddard stood from the table
A cool look from his stern grey eyes was enough to silence the musician
“You may continue the festivities,” he addressed the wedding guests. And although his voice was low and quiet, it commanded respect from all in the Hall.
He then offered his hand to you, and when you slipped your hand into his calloused palm, he guided you up and then down from the platform, through the hall of well-wishers, all bowing their heads to the Warden of the North.
The walk to your new chambers was silent, but not uncomfortably so, and when Eddard held the door open for you, you thanked him in a quiet voice.
“These are your chambers,” he said lowly, gesturing.
They were beautiful, in a rustic, comforting way. The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows over the furnishings.
“In here is your sitting area, with your Solar just ahead. Your bed chambers are through that way. Your things have been brought up already, but you have plenty of time to sort all of that out. And you’ll have help, of course,”
You smile gratefully as he explains that you are free to change the appearance of the chambers as you please.
“My own chambers aren’t too far from here,” he adds with a small smile, and you notice the way his eyes crinkle as he smiles.
Together you sit before the fire, sharing a cup of ale, talking of not much at all, but easing into one another’s company.
“Thank you,” you say, setting your cup down. When he looks at you quizzically, you expand. “For before. My younger brother teased me before I came here, telling tales about bedding ceremonies. I knew you wouldn’t allow it, you didn’t for-“ you catch yourself. “You defended the Lady Catelyn’s honour. And I am thankful that you defended mine too, Lord Stark,”
Eddard watches as you talk, the way you handle talking about Cat, his Cat. There is no scorn, no resentment at being a second wife, at being a replacement, at knowing that he did not love you
Not yet, at least
“I would never dishonour you, My Lady,” he tells you, and you smile gently.
He is silent for a moment before clearing his throat. “I will not make you consummate this marriage tonight My Lady. Not if you don’t want to. We can proceed in the coming weeks, if you would prefer,”
“What if I want to?” You asked. “I must do my duty to House YLN and now to House Stark as well. You and I both know this marriage cannot go unconsummated, otherwise our houses are not formally allied,”
Eddard surveyed you for a moment, relieved he had wed a Lady with a wise head on her shoulders, and not a skittish young maid.
“Then I will go at your pace, my Lady, and you must tell me to stop should your mind change,”
You nodded your head in agreement, and together you made your way to your bedchamber
He keeps his word, and the marriage is consummated slowly, dutifully, gently
Afterwards, he holds you, never leaving to return to his own chambers, and had a servant bring wine for you
But when he returns to your bed, he finds you asleep, snuggled into the fur, your face serene and your hair mussed up
With a gentle smile he slides back into bed with you, though it takes him much longer to fall asleep, killed by your gentle breaths
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claymoresword · 3 months
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Where's My Love
Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader 🐺
Prompt: I was wondering if you could write a Cersei x Stark!fem!reader where she's Ned's youngest sister and Cersei's ex-secret lover. Reader is a rebel like Arya and never married but she's very protective of her nieces/nephews. She and Cersei had a bad breakup and are finally reuniting during the events of the first GOT episode when the king's court goes to Winterfell. You could write reader backing up Arya again Joffrey and Cersei seething 😂😂😂 you can include g!p and smut if you want.
Wordcount: 5.8k
Pairing: Cersei x Stark Reader
Warnings: g!p reader, smut, power play, depictions of physical abuse, cheating , very toxic , references to alcoholism, breeding kink if you squint, emotional manipulation, did i already say this was toxic ?
Note: thank you so much 🐑 for the prompt! i actually had a lot of fun writing this one. also important to note this is my first time actually publishing something y'all have requested me to write so hopefully i got this right.. i know i tweaked and added a couple things but i hope you don't mind! and if you hate this i'm sorry lmao i tried <33
(smut after asterisks)
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Bouts of laughter erupt from your nephews as Bran once again misses his mark, the arrow flies way over the target.
You glare at the older boys, in response Robb places a hand over his mouth, Jon instead chooses to avoid your gaze entirely focusing his stare at the ground beneath.
All dirt and sleet on the base of your boot, the ground squelched with every step you took.
“Try again, Bran. Take a deep breath, aim properly.” You order placing a lingering hand on his shoulder. 
The young boy nods obediently as you step back once more, he raises his bow arm. 
He aims, soon releasing the string, and once again, he misses. The arrow pierces the edge of a barrel on the far left, leagues away from his actual target.
Once again the boys burst into fits of laughter, this time is it not you who reprimands them.
“And which one of you was a marksman at ten?” You follow the sound of your brother's voice, he is standing on the balcony above, Catelyn by his side.
“Keep trying, Bran.” Jon decides to cease his teasing, he encourages his half-brother.
A sudden gust of wind tickles your face, the cold breeze permeates the air, bleeding through the thin fabric of your doublet. You immediately regret not putting on more layers this morning. You have lost track of the days, but there is no doubt that winter is coming.
“Robb, make certain your brother continues practicing. I am going back inside, but remember– your father is watching.” You warn your eldest nephew, as stern as you can manage. 
Shaggy streaks of red hair fall over his eyes as he nods. 
You wrap your arms around yourself as you start up the stairs, but your plan to slip back into your chambers unnoticed fails.
“Y/n.” Cat appears next to you.
“Are you alright?” The Lady of Winterfell asks, and you force a sweet smile, one to disarm and hopefully quell her worries. 
Catelyn didn't exactly warm to you at first, and neither did you with her, but over time you both grew to truly care for one another. She was like an older sister to you, the void left by your late sister Lyanna did not seem so large with her around.
“I'm fine, I just needed to fetch something from my bedchambers, that's all.” You lie. However, the older woman somehow always manages to see right through you.
She gazes upon you skeptically only to eventually release your arm. She takes a step back, allowing you to take your leave without further interrogation.
-
In truth, you were far from alright. 
Despite yourself, you have been on edge since finding out that the King is on his way to Winterfell with his Lady wife and all of their children.
This visit is a sudden one. Upon the death of Jon Arryn you had expected things to be different, knowing how much the former Hand meant to your brother– but you never anticipated a visit from the King himself.
You hadn't seen Robert in nine years, and his wife for longer than that. 
It is not by accident.
If it was up to you, things would be different. You would still be in King's Landing today, perhaps serving as Knight– or as Cersei had once intended, a personal guard for the Queen.
You were once certain that you would spend the rest of your days by Cersei's side, no matter the circumstances, but you merely held the high hopefulness of a young girl. 
Since then have been forced to accept that life is nothing like the tales and songs you were fed as a child. The Gods are not always merciful, things rarely ever go to plan and love most certainly does not conquer all.
Life got in the way of your love, and pride did the rest. 
You have not spoken to Cersei Lannister in a decade, yet your entire being continued to ache with every day that you have spent apart. Time does not heal the type of hurt that only yields to resentment.
When the King and Queen arrive for their visit on the morrow, you intend to avoid her Grace at all costs, for her sake and your own. Above all, you will have no choice but to grit your teeth and endure what you must.
You haven't seen Cersei in years, but you were bound to slaughter each other given the chance.
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“Come in!” You beckon whoever was on the other side of the door as you fastened the clasps on your doublet.
Ned ceases his knocking, pushing the door open, he looks upon you in a way he knew you hated, but your brother can hardly help it.
He worries about you. When you returned home all those years ago, you were inconsolable. 
You are a Stark, not made for the South. Your brother tried in jest, but he knew it wasn't the weather, or even court politics that despaired you. 
It was Cersei, it had always been Cersei.
"The King was seen riding up; he should be arriving any moment.” Ned states.
“Right, I'm almost done here.” You quip, but the man takes it upon himself to assist you with your sheepskin cloak, draping it over your shoulders.
He keeps his hands on you, his brows furrowed with evident worry, and for some reason you can't help but find it all a bit silly, you chuckle lightly. “I will be fine, Ned.” 
Your brother appears less than convinced,  you shove him playfully. “You worry about me too much, brother, it’s beginning to age you.”
Ned scoffs. “Aye, try being in my position for a day and you'll understand why I worry so much… but it is time that's aging me, little sister.” Ned quips in response and this makes you pause.
You notice the streaks of white, scattered across his dark locks. As the morning sun peeks through the window, catching his face, you observe more of those streaks in his beard.
Where has time gone?
Ned steps closer, it seems that he has mistaken your silence for something else. Your brother plants a quick kiss on the crown of your head as a result.
In times like this you can't help but feel like a girl of thirteen again, looking to her older brother for protection.
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You watched as the Kingsguard rode through the walls of Winterfell, Lannister banners in hand. It unsettles you more than you thought it would. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, turning to Sansa, her younger sister still nowhere in sight.
“Sansa, where is your sister?” You question and the girl only shrugs dismissively, but you aren't left wondering for long as Arya can be seen pushing through the crowd, quickly settling next to you.
The young girl was wearing an iron helm you had never seen before, her once pristine dress now ornamented with specks of dirt and grime. You shake your head disapprovingly, an effort to suppress your amusement.
Sansa scoffs at the sight of her younger sister, while you snatch the helm off Arya's head, she looks up at you with a scowl.
“Where did you even get this?” You ask, your tone manages to match the look on her face.
Arya gives you no response, and you aren't allowed the opportunity to press her further as you feel a nudge against your arm. Ned forces you to look ahead as the King can be seen dismounting his horse.
Ned kneels, and you and everyone else follows suit.
After a beat, the King's command all of you to rise, and soon you spot the carriage halting a few feet behind him.
You involuntarily held your breath as the door opens. The Queen emerges, she keeps her gaze ahead as she climbs down the steps.
Cersei looks the picture of poise and grace. She seems older, and somehow even more beautiful than you remembered. It knocked the wind right out of you, you had to look away. 
Your eyes are no longer on the Queen, but your chest aches all the same.
“Cat!” Your attention is pulled to the display before you as the King addresses your sister in law, pulling her in for an embrace that she doesn't appear to be prepared for.
“Nine years. why haven't I seen you, where the hell have you been?” Robert addresses your brother once more.
“Guarding the North, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” Ned replies, practiced and noble as he always was.
Robert then turns to you, a scowl upon his face, one that stuns you slightly. Your mind turns to Cersei, you consider what she might have shared with her Lord husband in your absence. 
She must have told him the real reason you left King's Landing, no doubt the King will want you punished for repeatedly bedding his wife all those years ago. but then the King's frown turns, and your mind ceases its torment. 
Robert lunges only to pull you in for an embrace, a gesture that startles you, your body remains tense until he releases you from his hold.
“I expected better from you, Y/n.” The King narrows his gaze in a puckish manner. 
“Unlike your damned brother here I thought you enjoyed the Keep. I was sure you wanted to serve in my Kingsguard.” He adds, and you force a grin, gallant yet strained.
“I admit that was a different time, Your Grace. These days, my passions lie elsewhere.” You reply, and you can hardly prevent the way your gaze flits towards the Queen for a moment.
Cersei has been stood beside her husband, staring at you relentlessly for the entire duration of this interaction. If the Queen has remained the same person she was all those years ago, then you know for certain this was her attempt to intimidate– but you were not so keen on letting her have the upper hand. 
You drill your expression, unfazed.
The King snorts derisively at your answer, but says nothing more.
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You had spent most of the afternoon, drowning in your cups. The knowledge that Cersei was only a few doors away was aggravating, everything you thought to have successfully repressed has now resurfaced.
Every inch of you calls out to Cersei, your very soul yearns for her. You craved the unbearable pain, and blinding pleasure that came with being around her.
You have laid awake many nights picturing the ways you would confront her. The things you would say to her. 
You fantasized about the possibility of finally being rid of all of your pain. To hurt her the same way she hurt you. Your heart, dense and cold, obstructed by all things Cersei. Within you, you carried everything you despised about the other woman– and all the things you adored.
The Queen was a mistake you couldn't erase, and simultaneously the best thing that has ever happened to you. You hate her, but you cannot stand to be apart from her.
-
The sound of commotion snatches you out of your thoughts. The voices that permeate sound vaguely familiar to you, but you are only able to place them once you take a glance out your window.
You spot Arya and Bran in the courtyard. Prince Joffrey standing over them, your face falls as you spot his steel unsheathed from his scabbard and in his hand.
Without another moment's thought you rushed downstairs towards the training yard, prepared to pacify the affair, however dire it may be, but it seems Arya has taken the situation into her own hands.
Bran is gone, but the Prince is now on the ground. It seems that Arya has managed to disarm the older boy, his steel thrown to the side in the dirt. 
Now she is threatening Joffrey with a wooden practice sword, her direwolf beside her, growling with intent at the Prince.
“Arya enough!” You intercept the blow, forcefully dragging your niece away from the boy.
“What the seven hells do you think you're doing?” You bark, and Arya drops the sword, her chest still heaving.
A young girl seething with unbridled fury was such an uncommon sight that it makes you grimace.
“He was trying to hurt Bran! I had to protect him.” Arya gestures to the Prince, the boy still whimpering in pain.
“Damn you and that stupid dog! I am telling my mother! I will report you to the king!” Joffrey hurls his threats, and Arya makes the juvenile decision to respond.
“Nymeria's a direwolf, not a dog!” She shouts and you sigh, placing a hand over your niece's mouth to silence her, an action Arya fights but your grip on her doesn't relent.
“My Prince, I am sure my niece meant no harm–” You try but the boy interjects.
“No harm?” The Prince hisses. “She nearly sliced my arm off!” Once again he whimpers like a pup that had just been trampled.
You take a step forward to examine the cut on Joffrey's arm, and it was only that– a minor cut, one that will heal without leaving as much as a scar.
Large footsteps approach, the Prince's sworn guard comes rushing to the scene, Sandor Clegane scowls at you before assisting the boy to his feet effortlessly with one hand.
“Some protector you are, dog. I almost died!” Joffrey then redirects his frustrations towards his guard.
He continues muttering insults as he retrieves his sword from the dirt, strutting out of the training yard.
Nymeria doesn't cease her growling until the boy was entirely out of sight, it was also only then you remove your hand from Arya's mouth.
“Have you completely lost your wits?” You gape, looking down at your niece disapprovingly, before kneeling to be at eye level with her.
“He was–” Arya starts, but you interrupt.“–I don't care what he did, Arya. You never attack a Prince.” You state firmly.
“You do something like this again and I will make sure you never get the chance to wield a weapon again, do you understand?” You assert, and your tone is harsh enough to make Arya wince.
She doesn't reply with words, she continues looking down at her feet as she nods.
“Let's go and get you cleaned up.” You state, you try to pull her by the arm but Arya doesn't budge.
“I was trying to be brave, like you.” She mutters under her breath, and you turn to look at the young girl once more.
“What?” You ask.
“Don't be upset with me, please, please. I'm sorry.” Then Arya states frantically, her voice small and frail– it shatters you.
“Oh, Arya– my sweet girl.” You say, kneeling once again. “I'm not upset, I was worried.” You pull her in for an embrace, your niece clutches you tightly in return.
After a prolonged moment, you cease the hug, wiping away some of the dirt from her face with the pads of your thumbs. 
Then you took a quick scan of your surroundings, to ensure that you were alone before speaking again.
“Our Prince is a bit of a cunt.” You finally quip, earning a chuckle from Arya.
“He is.” Your niece beams at you, in turn this makes you fill with relief.
“I am proud of you for disarming him. but next time, leave it at that. Do you understand the consequences that come with attacking a King's heir?” You ask, and you watch as a realization graces the young girl, she averts her gaze, this time with guilt.
“Never again, do you hear me?”
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You were exhausted from the events of the day, and yet it was not close to over. 
You decide to retire to your chambers, aiming for at least a few hours rest before the King's welcome feast later this evening.
Resting your hand on the pommel of your sword, you take large steps through the gallery. You crave the horn of ale waiting for you on your nightstand, the comfort of your warm bed.
You turn the corner, a figure appears before you and you swerve out of the way quickly enough to avoid whoever it was that decided to walk toward you in this exact moment from the opposite direction.
As you gather yourself to take a proper look at the woman who you nearly bumped into, your blood runs cold. 
“Your Grace, forgive me.” You state curtly, inclining your head at Cersei. 
Your hand remains resting on the hilt of your sword as you attempt to slip past her, but before you can successfully walk away, she has a hold of your arm, dragging you backwards to where you stood.
You yank your arm out of her hold, a scowl covers your features, but Cersei ignores your visible discontent as she speaks.
“That niece of yours tried to murder my son.” The Queen accuses.
“What?” You can't help the half-laugh that slips out of you. Cersei takes offense to this, her expression hardens.
“Joff will bear those scars for the rest of his life.” She is not backing down, and you can't pretend that you possessed the will to deal with her theatrics.
You only roll your eyes, finally slipping past her and into your chambers.
You step inside your room, but before you can close the door Cersei intercepts, forcefully pushing it open to let herself in.
She slams it closed behind herself.
“You dare walk away from your Queen?” She bellows.
This time you groan, collapsing onto your bed.
You ignore her statement, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration. “Oh, Cersei, it is a cut, it'll heal!”
A prolonged silence from the Queen, she only speaks again once you sit up in your bed.
“You've not changed a bit.” She remarks, treacherous emerald gaze meeting your pale greys.
“Neither have you.” You retaliate boldly.
More silence until Cersei is first to look away, clasping her hands infront of herself she assumes an impassive stance.
“I will have that girl punished.” The Queen threatens, her tone sounds spiteful. but you don't hide your incredulity.
“For what?” You ask, and Cersei's jaw clenches even tighter, you wonder if she might lunge at you.
“She attacked my son. the King's heir.” Cersei retorts, and you scoff.
“Is that what Robert’s teaching his sons? How to lose to a little girl?” You taunt, not backing down.
You knew Arya should receive consequences for her actions by right, but giving Cersei that satisfaction is the absolute last thing you plan to do.
“Or is it not the King's doing at all?” You ask again as Cersei fails to respond. You rise from the bed, stepping closer to the Queen.
“Is it Jaime's fault?” You tilt your head inquisitively, mockingly. 
You are close enough to smell the lavender oil on Cersei's skin. Her eyes flit to your lips for a fleeting moment, and yours do the same to hers. 
Then a madness overcomes you, prompting your next choice of words.
“I expect it is him you've been opening your legs for these days–” You utter, but you are swiftly silenced when Cersei's palm makes contact with your cheek.
She slaps you across the face, your head turns slightly from the force of it. Your face is now throbbing, raw and red with traces of Cersei's wrath. 
She goes to strike you again, and this time it is intercepted by your firm grip on her wrist. 
A fury reignites within you as Cersei tries to fight out of your hold, entirely allowing your emotions to guide your actions, your hand finds her throat. Before your rational mind can mitigate it, you have your fingers firmly wrapped around her neck. The back of her head slams against the wooden door as you forcibly pinned her upon it.
The Queen is clawing at your hand, struggling to take a breath as you restricted her airway. A real fear flashes across Cersei's face, and a part of you wants to watch her fall limp within your grasp, to quiet her once and for all, to destroy the cause of your agony. but you don't– instead you take a step back, releasing her. 
Cersei gasps as air sharply re enters her lungs, roughly wiping away the tears that have made it down her cheeks.
The Queen attempts to regain her resolve the best she can, and the look she gives you is not one of shock, instead it is pure disdain, and you look at her the same. Cersei doesn't speak, she merely shoves you harshly with both hands against your chest, as you stumbled back, she turns to open the door.
You collapse on your bed once more as Cersei dissapears into the hallway, the door shutting behind her. 
“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. It seemed the Queen will never fail to elicit the worst from you– to make you act like an utter lunatic.
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The welcome feast has been dragging on now for what felt like an eternity. 
The King was no longer seated as his high table, instead he was in the center of the hall, shamelessly flirting with some of the servants.
You roll your eyes, reaching for the flagon of ale infront of you, as you attempted to lift it, it doesn't budge. You fleetingly wonder if the liquor had caused you to lose all strength in your arm, only to realize your brother was holding the jug firmly on the table so it wouldn't move.
You squint at Ned, and he glares at you in return.
“Enough. You'll drink yourself into an early grave if you keep this up.” Your brother warns and it makes you snigger.
“That is the plan, brother.” You slur slightly, but Ned makes the deliberate effort to ignore you.
You slump backwards in your chair, when you've realized you lost this argument, as you often did when it came to the lord of Winterfell.
You eyes fall upon King Robert once more, he is still in the middle of the room, surrounded by maidens and even more whores. 
This time he is no longer flirting with them, he is in a full lip lock with one of the women. He does this in the presence of the Queen, dishonouring her for all to see.
You grimace at the sight, an unwanted rage overcomes you. You can hardly believe this lecherous drunk was King of the Seven Kingdoms. Married to the most beautiful woman in all of the seven kingdoms, the only woman you have ever wanted.
You can't bear to look at Cersei's reaction to this, in fact you can hardly remain at this feast for a moment longer. You abruptly rise from your seat, Ned looks up at you, puzzled.
“May I please be excused?” You asked formally for the rest of the table to hear and your brother hesitates before nodding curtly in response.
As you walked back to your chambers you can't help but invision what your life would have been like if your brother had taken the Iron throne instead of Robert Baratheon. If you had remained in King's Landing– if you had wedded Cersei instead.
Perhaps in a different life. 
You and Cersei would be married, and you'd rule together. In another reality Cersei would be your Queen and not Robert's. She would bear your children, your heirs. You would grow old together and live out your days by each other's side. In a different life, you would have remained faithful to Cersei, you would have given her everything she desired and in return, Cersei would offer you her heart. 
You would have been happy.
In another life. 
By the time you reached your room, the tears had stopped flowing, but the collar of your shirt remained drenched.
As you shut your door, you unclapsed your doublet, lifting it above your head, tossing it aimlessly across the room. 
Now only in your tunic and breeches, you feel the urge to weep some more, but you refuse to allow your tears to fall this time. 
You take a seat on the settee, head in your hands. The effects of the ale already wearing off, a headache rapidly setting in, you realized that you needed another drink.
You get up to fetch the flagon from the small table but as your door flings wide open, nearly hitting you in the process, you freeze where you stand.
A familiar golden haired beauty emerges through the doorway, and you allow yourself a deep breath. Clutching your chest slightly to calm yourself.
“Your Grace, the hour is late.” You state dismissively, starting across the room to fetch your goblet.
“If you have come to order my execution for my behaviour this afternoon, best get it over with.” You quip, the liquor in your system doing all of the talking for you.
You hear the door shut, without looking back you assume Cersei had taken her leave but you are perplexed when you turn to see her still standing by the door, watching you set down your goblet.
You walk across the room once more to take a seat on the settee, you remove your boots, setting them aside.
Cersei has remained silent for long enough that you nearly forgotten her presence entirely. Her next ask startles you.
“Look at me.” Her commanding tone leaves no room to argue, you glance at her. 
Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks flushed. It is clear to you that she has been crying as well.
You rise from your seat abruptly, approaching her. “Are you alright?” You ask, and again the Queen says nothing.
She merely stares at you, hopefulness at your concern and despair at the fact that you needed to ask.
**
She lunges forward, before you can fully comprehend it, her lips crash against your own, she kisses you deeply, pure anguish and want. It snatches the air right out of your lungs, but you have no desire to pull away.
Your tongue makes contact with her own and Cersei moans, pulling you impossibly closer by the nape of your neck.
Your body pressed up against hers as she leans against the wall. You were now both panting into the kiss, all aggression and desire. 
You had not been with Cersei like this in a decade, and yet there was a complete lack of uncertainty. It felt right, you were certain that you are meant to be with her like this, until the end of your days. 
However, there still exists voice deep within you, whether it is pride or reason, you cannot say for certain. but it urges you to pull away, so you do.
The Queen chases your lips eagerly, but you pull back even further. “Cersei, stop. What is this, what are you doing?” You ask, every moment you spent without your lips on hers felt like pure agony.
“I just need you– please–” Cersei replies with a desperation you have never heard before, and this was enough to break you. 
Any semblance of dignity vanishes into the very depths of yourself, all that's left is your deep and tortuous want for Cersei.
You kiss her again, rough and urgent, you are panting and groaning into each other's mouths. Cersei's hands immediately move to the hem of your breeches, she unlaces them in record time, slipping her hand inside.
You nearly lose it all when she wraps her fingers around the base of your cock, stroking it with such dexterity you fear your knees may give out.
“Gods–” You grunt, bucking your hips embarrassingly into her touch. 
You find the strength to remove her hand from your breeches. Soon enough you slip them off, your slacks pooling around your ankles before you kicked them to the side.
You swiftly remove your own tunic as Cersei's trembling hands struggle to undo the laces of her dress. 
Your patience wearing thin, you flip her around, indecently ripping the fabric open with one swift tug. 
“Y/n–” Cersei scolds in response to your eagerness, glancing back at you with dissaproval, but her dress easily slips off her shoulders after that, her smallclothes follow suit.
The Queen is still facing away from you as you part her hair away from her neck, trailing open mouthed kisses against her hot flesh, as you reached a certain familiar spot, your teeth grazed the skin, before biting down on it briefly. 
This earns a louder noise from Cersei, she is still trembling as she turns back around to face you, grabbing you firmly to pull you in for another sloppy kiss.
Lips still interlocked, the Queen walks you backwards onto the bed, Cersei doesn't waste another moment, straddling you as soon as you settled your rear on the edge of the bedding.
Your cock now stiff as a rod, poking at Cersei's entrance. The other woman begins moving her hips as you kissed, rubbing her cunt on the length of your shaft, coating it with her slick.
Your breath quickens, the sensation was maddening, you needed to be inside her now.
“Gods, I missed you.” You let it slip as your lips parted for a moment, but Cersei doesn't respond. 
The Queen's grip on the nape of your neck moves to your hair as she grasps a handful of it, tugging your head back slightly. Her other hand travels south, she grips the base of your cock once more, this time lining it up to her entrance. 
She begins lowering herself onto your length, Cersei moves quickly, with every inch that enters her, she lets out a gasp at the sensation. Soon you are sheathed inside of her to the hilt, and Cersei throws her head back, she releases an unrestrained moan, her hands now firmly on your shoulders.
She attemps to push you back against the bed, but you refuse to budge. Cersei relents, kissing you again as she moves her hips up and down the length of your cock. With every moan from Cersei you retaliate with a groan.
The feeling of her walls fluttering against your girth made you dizzy. The Queen felt so unbelievably good wrapped around your cock, you had forgotten just how intoxicating it was.
Now that you were experiencing it again, you never wanted it to end.
 Vulgar noises of your coupling filled the room as Cersei moved herself desperately against your lap, your cock hitting just the right spots within her. 
The Queen can feel her release already approaching, entirely overwhelmed by this she falls limp against you, but you manage to support her weight with minimal effort. Her hips still moving at a steady pace until it finally hits her, her orgasm washes over her like a wave. 
Cersei cries out in pleasure, partially muffled against your neck, she holds onto you for dear life as her peak overcomes all her other senses, relentless and unforgiving. You feel her cunt clenching painfully around your cock, her short shallow breaths against your neck, she is trembling helplessly, and you never want to let her go.
“Seven hells.” The Queen breathes out, finally lifting her head to look at you.
Cersei's eyes were nearly glazed over, her chest heaving violently, but you were far from done with her.
You capture her lips with your own again, earning a content moan. You remained sheathed inside of her as you flipped your positions, now Cersei laid on the bed, with you on top of her. The other woman's gasp in surprise is muffled by your own mouth against hers.
Once again she moans into your mouth as you began your thrusts, deep and slow, you aim to feel every inch of her. Cersei wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you in even deeper.
The Queen gasps as your mouth found the swell of her breasts, your tongue leaving a trail of saliva as you expertly moved from one nipple to the other. 
Your thrusts grow harsh and inconsistent as you felt your own climax building. Cersei's back arches, a deafening moan rips out of her. 
You roughly placed your hand against her stomach, pinning her down against the bed as you continued to rut into her. Cersei was mewling and panting like a whore now as you used her for your own pleasure, heightening her own in the process. 
The Queen finds just enough strength to pull you closer, her lips now against your ear.
“Tell me you love me.” Cersei pleads, and this takes you entirely by surprise, you slow your movements but you don't stop.
“What?” You ask, shaky, breathless.
“Just say it.” The Queen repeats amidst another moan, she clenches around your cock and the sound that emits from you then is guttural, primal.
You oblige without asking further questions.
“I love you, Cersei” You speak, from the heart, damning the consequences.
With that, Cersei reaches her peak again, her nails digging into the flesh of your back as she comes. The feeling of her perfect cunt milking your cock, accompanied by her writhing body underneath you was enough to push you over the edge.
As you attempt to pull out, Cersei kept her legs firmly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You are not given the opportunity to question it as it was already too late, you moaned as you released your load deep inside her, painting her womb with your seed.
**
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Nearly a candlemark has passed since your coupling and neither you or Cersei have said more than a few words. 
Simply embracing each other under the sheets, she rests her head against your shoulder, tracing circles absentmindedly with her finger against your abdomen. 
This position was achingly familiar, almost as if no time had passed.
Cersei soon moves her hand further up, she traces her fingers across your bottom lip before running her thumb down the bridge of your nose. The sensation earns a chuckle out of you, you finally had to reach up to remove her hand, guiding it away from your face.
Cersei's stare betrays an intensity that makes your chest constrict painfully in your chest.
Still unspeaking, it was your turn to explore her body, but you don't get very far, your fingertips trace the faint bruising on her neck, the marks left by your own cruelty.
The Queen then shuts her eyes, she doesn't allow herself to look upon your guilt any longer. Wrapping her arm across your torso, nuzzling her face against your shoulder.
“I'm not letting you go– never again.” Cersei mutters, and the smile that tugs on your lips is one of relief and acceptance.
You don't supress the urge to plant a lingering kiss on her temple, one the Queen allows herself to melt into.
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danytherelentless · 6 months
Text
A Heartfelt Goodbye
Eddard Stark x fem!reader
summary: after his wife's recent passing, Lord Stark is looking for a governess to raise his children
warnings! smut, cunniligus, p in v, pre-marital sex (big deal in Westeros), asoiaf typical sexism (if you squint)
word count: 3k
note: please forgive me if there are any mistakes or it appears a little disjointed, the editing was shaky at best
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It was more than a year after the loss of his wife that he decided to take on a governess for his children.
He had refused marriage so soon after, and did not think he would ever take a wife again, and had not wanted to have a governess raise his children for it felt an insult to Cat, yet Maester Luwin had been advising him that his children would need such guidance in their lives, especially with them all being so young, and Eddard had finally relented.
He mulled over the options of Northern ladies for some time before deciding upon you. He'd never met you before, but he had known your father, brothers and some of your cousins. Your father had been one of his greatest and truest advisors during Robert's Rebellion, your elder brother one of his friends as well, and he remembers hearing much of you then, though you'd been younger at the time. Patient, caring and wise as a child. Surely you remained so as an adult? You were also unmarried which meant you had no other obligations nor children of your own to tend to. So he sent the letter to your Lord father asking if you would be suited and able to fill such a position in his household.
He received response soon enough and it was settled upon that you would be arriving to Winterfell within the next few weeks.
Your smile was the first thing he noticed upon meeting you, a kind and gentle thing which warmed him to you almost immediately.
"My Lord," you greeted with a curtsy after you had dismounted to stand next to your father and brother who had led you here.
"My Lady. I am thankful you have taken upon this position."
"It is a great honour, my lord. One I hope I shall be able to fulfil."
Robb was the most reluctant of his children to you, though that was expected and understandable as the eldest. His youngest three, however, were instantly enamoured with you, even baby Bran. But it was Jon which made him realise you were perfect for the role whom you treated well as any of his other children.
It took some time of course for the new dynamic to settle, for you to become comfortable with his children and vise-versa, but eventually, even Robb warmed to you. Even Ned himself found that he enjoyed your company. You had to ability to always make him feel at ease or give him the perfect advice for whatever situation he was put in.
He began to fall for you, which felt inevitable given how lovely you were. But he could not help the vicious guilt which he felt. It felt wrong, no matter how much time passed since Cat's passing, it still felt like a great insult to her memory, and to your own honour, though he never acted on his own feelings.
At least not until Robert called upon him when Balon Greyjoy rebelled against the crown.
He sat in the Godswood, the night before he would leave in contemplation. Many of his bannerman had gathered already at Winterfell with more on their way straight to White Harbour. He did not want to die so soon, though that was something he expected just as he had during Robert's Rebellion when he rode away from Riverrun, yet this time it felt so much closer to him. He couldn't bare the thought of Robb being made Lord so young, of his grief. Of the struggle and strife which he would face and the deceit he would no doubt face in spite of his youth. The idea of his little lady Sansa, or his wild little she-wolf Arya not remembering his face as they grew. Of baby Bram not having so much as a memory of him to place to his name.
He thought of you, of never seeing you again, of never confessing the feelings held within his heart. Though his guilt remained to an extent not as it once had, the idea of never getting to tell you made his heart ache something fierce. It overwhelmed any guilt he was feeling.
"My lord," your voice snapped him from his glum pondering.
"My lady. The hour is quite late, the air cold," he could barely see you in the darkness, the only light emitting from the lantern in your hand and the one sitting near his feet.
"I was worried for you," you confessed.
It was a normal thing to worry about. He was beneath no assumption that you felt the same as he, but he knew that you viewed him as a friend for you often spent hours drinking, exchanging stories and laughing well into late evenings together. So much so that he’d had to quietly had to expel rumours amongst the staff to the best of his ability, hoping you had not heard of them. He knew that it was a sign of the impropriety of your relationship, but he just couldn’t bring himself to stop.
"I'll be back soon enough," he found himself reassuring you.
He watches as you walk closer to him, "may I sit?"
"Of course," he spoke embarrassingly quickly.
You took your seat on the tangled roots at his side, shivering slightly as you burrowed closer into your cloak.
"You really shouldn't be out here, my lady. You may catch a chill," he voiced his concern.
"And neither should you. What sort of a friend would I be if I allowed you to wallow out here all alone?" there was teasing in your voice. He found a smile growing across his face.
He looked to you then. You looked truly beautiful in the low light of the flickering lanterns, shadows cast across your face. You seemed quite sad, though he could see a longing in your eyes has he stared at you.
He felt something get trapped in his throat, unable to say anything as he looked upon you. There was a vulnerability which always clung to you, in the way you smiled so freely, the way you spoke so kindly and could be so forgiving. He saw that in you now. Something raw. He craved it, craved you, craved you near him, in his arms. He felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach.
He craved you, completely and utterly. Entirely vulnerable, bare flesh beneath him, moaning for him. His name, not his title, he loved it when you said his name. Not Eddard, just Ned. He wanted to hear it. Now.
He kissed you instead, a hand on your cheek pulling you close to him. Regret flooded him immediately.
"I'm so sorry," he apologised, pulling away, yanking his hand from your flesh, suddenly feeling quite sick. Barely a moment of your lips on his, so sweet and true. The taste turned to ash on his tongue, however.
"That was dishonourable of me, my lady. Forgive me please. I lost myself."
"No," you grabbed at his forearm and moved closer, you leg leaning into his own, "I... I don't mind."
He looks to you then, a goddess at his side. Meant to be worshipped. It was fitting you were both sat beneath a Weirwood tree.
He feels your delicate hand upon his bearded jaw and he allows you to pull him to you, eyes closing as your lips are joined with his.
He can tell you're inexperienced, but he relishes in it. It has been so long since he'd had any company, and he wanted this. With the thought of possible death so close, he could hardly deny himself you, especially if you wanted him too.
He part from you, breathless, "I want you."
He hadn't quite meant to just blurt it out so bluntly, but can't bring himself to want to take it back. It is his truth, after all. And in this moment, it would be wrong for him to not tell you.
You seem shocked for a moment.
"I want you too," you admitted.
His heart stops for a split second before he crashes his mouth back on yours, your tongues tangling together in some dance.
He kisses you for what feels like hours before he remembers you are out in the cold, and then he guides you back to the keep and to your chambers. The walk is silent and you bump into no one, though guards trail you both outside the keep and through some of the hallways.
He is about to part ways with you and leave for his own when you grab his wrist.
"Wait. Why don't you join me?"
Your cheeks are beautifully flushed, and he can hardly refuse such a welcome invitation, though his honour is screaming at him to stop. His desires simply win over, he is a weak man for you.
He undresses you slowly, pulling away your cloak, helping you unlace your dress as you exchange kisses. You help him with his own layers, and soon you are both bare as the day you were born. He looks upon your beauty, across your smooth skin, your breasts, the mound of hair between your legs. He feels his mouth water. He would turn you around and simply sit gazing upon your naked flesh for hours, studying you like a tome of history.
He lays you down upon furs and kisses down your neck, sucking a bruise some too dark into the flesh which he may regret some the next day should he notice, yet he cannot help himself as he listens to your sweet sighs and feels were hands caressing his arms then his chest.
His lips continue down your body, sucking and licking at your breasts and listening to the melodic sounds you bless him with, hands pawing at your thighs as he further parts them. He kisses down you stomach, beneath your bellybutton and then your naval, before finding his place between your legs, eyes upon your cunt, so close to him and oh so delectable.
"What are you..." your sentence is broken by a surprised and quiet moan as his tongue parts your folds and tastes your sweetness. He licks and sucks at you observing each reaction from his place which he could. Every twitch which you body made and every sound which left your lips. Ned took one of your thighs in his hold and brought it up over his shoulder. His nose is buried in the mount of hair above your cunt as he sucks on that bundle he knows will have you see stars.
You moan and gasp, legs tensing around his head and fingers tugging at his dark hair. He cannot help but groan into you, grinding down into your sheets to attempt to relieve the ache in his cock. He resists the urge to fist his cock in hand by instead pushing a finger inside of you, curling it upwards to feel that spongy spot. You are tight and warm and so so wet. He savors every moment of it.
He curls a second finger inside of you, listening to you high keening whimpers and stretches you wider, and then a third.
"Ned!" your fingers tighten and tug harshly at his hair, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels your body tensing as you climax on his fingers. He licks some of it up before he finds himself too impatient to see your face again. He hopes he will be able to do this again so that he may taste you for longer.
You are worn, face etched with sweet ecstasy. He kisses you with your own taste on his tongue, an action which should disgust you, yet you answer with fervour, a laziness to your motions. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into you, deepening the kiss even further till your tongue is again in his mouth.
One of your arms caresses down his body as your lips part, your eyes hooded, breathing erratic. Your hand trails over his hip before it wraps around his hard cock.
He thrusts forwards as your fist closes around his tip, jerking downwards experimentally. He wraps his own hand over you guiding it up and down as he would his own in the privacy of his own chambers on lonely nights.
He guides himself within your hand to your cunt, nudging it over your nub, toward your sopping hole.
The thought suddenly hit him hard and fast. So suddenly he jerked back slightly from your touch.
"What... what is it?" you looked concerned, eyes wide, braided hair mussed.
"I shouldn't be doing this, it's wrong." It was dishonourable and an insult to such a fine lady as yourself for him to be debasing you so. You weren't married, after all. Not yet, he thought. He could see you at his side as his wife. But you were not his wife now, and you may never be his wife.
"No, no, no! Please, take me," eyes blown wide, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with each breath you take as you tug him down so gently, "if you'll have me?" His chest clenched at such tender words.
With you begging him so sweetly, he could not resist, though there was a part of him still demanding he stop now, for this was wrong. Yet it was drowned by his raging desire which he had harboured for for so long.
He takes his position once more over you, between your thighs, and pushes himself inside of you slowly and carefully. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull at feeling such pleasure, and he nearly thrusts into you as a wild man would, but he resists easily enough for he knew it would cause you harm. He listened as you groaned and your face tugged into a discomforted expression, he felt himself stopping then, ready to pull out should you change you mind.
"Just slowly. Be gentle with me, please," your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, you knees farther parting to allow him better access.
He moves his hips so slowly at first, thrusts shallow and experimental, before his lips captured yours in a passionate flurry of movements. You were so warm, so wet. He knew you were most likely a virgin, a lady such as yourself. That thought only made his feel more hungry for you.
His movements continued as a slow and steady pace, before you whined prettily into his mouth and grabbed at his hip.
"You can move more," you spoke, breathless as he parted from you.
He obliged, building up his pace, pulling one of your legs up and around his waist as his thrusts became deeper and faster with each moan that left you mouth.
He could not tear his eyes away from you, from your sweat slick brow, your squeezed shut eyes and 'o' parted lips. He felt his own release build, but wanted you to finish at least once more for him, so he brought one hand between you and felt for you nub and began to rub at it, listening and watching your reaction as to what was best.
You tightened further around him, legs squeezing at his sides as you came for a second time. He could no sooner hold onto himself and buried his face in your neck and lost himself to you, thrusting without abandon as he chased after his own climax.
He came with a low groan, sucking kisses into your neck, filling you with his seed so deeply that for a moment, he prayed it would take, the thought of seeing you with child so tantalising.
He stayed within you for a few moments, perhaps even minutes, catching his breath and listening to yours.
He presses a tender kiss to your brow before pulling his softened cock from you with a wince. He was unable to look away as he sat up and eventually saw some of jus seed dribble out of you. He had to supress a groan.
"I'm sorry," he eventually broke the silence.
"Whatever for?"
He looked back at you, a goddess much to perfect for someone such as himself, worth more than ten of him, "for dishonouring you, my lady. I would have wed you before bedding you, yet I have not."
"I don't expect you to wed me, my lord," you admitted.
"Please don't call me that now. I have no right to any title after the disservice I have given you," for even thinking of getting her with child.
"You haven't. I wanted to be with you, just as much. I hope you don't think any less of me for it."
"No, I do not."
"Then we are simply two friends having a long and heartfelt goodbye," your smile is sad and small, not one of any joy or happiness.
"Is that all you view me as? Your friend?" he found himself speaking before he could stop, pulling on his underclothes.
"No, no. I... I feel for you. In my heart. I..." you paused and he looked at you, "I have come to love you, Ned. For not only the just and honourable Lord which you are, but for the loving father, and kind man. I enjoy the companionship you have offered me in the time which I have known you, and I have desired more of you for some time now."
He found himself dropping his breeches from hand and returning to your bed where you sat looking at him.
"It is fine should you not feel the same--"
"I do," he interrupted, bringing his hand to your cheek, "I love you."
You leaned into him, smile broadening across your face.
"I will wed you upon my return, my lady. I swear it to you."
He kisses you once more, a deep and long kiss filled with his love, before dressing and bidding you goodnight, feeling wrong to leave you after you had shared something so intimate with him.
Despite himself, despite leaving for war and having bedded you, confessed his love and swore to marry you though he may not even live to see you again after tomorrow, he sleeps well and peacefully that night.
He wed you the same day of his return.
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comments are looked upon fondly here so don't be a stranger ;)
(please no negativity, my heart can't take it. I am a delicate soul)
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random-imagines-blog · 6 months
Text
Imagine being a Lannister and making a game of trying to make Ned Stark blush.
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It wasn’t unusual that you, as the absolute middle child of Tywin Lannister, younger than the twins but older than Tyrion, accompanied them on their trips to these large cities, but it was rather rare that you enjoyed yourself on them. Fortunately for you, Winterfell had something more interesting than the others, and it wasn’t just the brisk air that came through the windows and brought shivers the spine. It was the Lord of Winterfell himself, handsome, manly, strong.
A lovely feast was put on, and you were sat near the Lord of Winterfell, Eddard Stark. His wife looked quite .. uninterested in the proceedings, much like your sister Cersei was, but you were taking part, asking questions about the land, even engaging with his children. But your main focus was on ‘Ned’ himself.
Cautiously, but definitely flirtatiously, you took a drink from your goblet of wine and leaned across to talk to him directly, after your brother in law, The King, spotted some full-buxom young ladies to give your attention to. You smiled at him, licking the red off your lips. “I have a question, Lord Stark.”
“What’s that?” Ned said, keeping his cool, though you did detect a little flush upon his cheeks - though that could be from the warm fire, or the nick of cold against his nose.
You grinned, knowing that this question was probably crossing a line. “How do you stay warm in the winter - is body heat really the trick to survival?”
There it was - that pink glow deepened on his cheeks, bringing out the darkness of his facial hair. “It is ... certainly one of the more helpful practices, yes,” He said.
I smiled at him warmly. “Indeed? Well, I may just have to try that tonight.”
Requested by: Anonymous
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writingsofwesteros · 6 months
Note
Dark Eddard Stark and wife reader. Eddard Stark big breeding kink
AN: Hi, it's not my best - life getting involved and i was on this for way too long so thought i would post. Hope you like it anyway x
NSFW
“Fuck -..” Ned grunted in your ear from on top of you. Your eyes were already rolling as you clung to the pillow your face was stuffed into. “Hmm, that’s it…such a good girl.” His soft words whispered into your ear. You whined so prettily at how full you felt; your soaked, creamy pussy clamping down on his fat, throbbing cock.
Your soft lips parted as you began to whine into the pillow some more; your moans of pleasure easily muted. Tears running down your cheeks as he grunted some more; the noises echoing with ease in his personal chambers. 
His larger hands groped your soft, bare body as your hold only tightened on the sheets. “Good girl.” The wolf purred, causing those cheeks of yours to brightly blush. The praise as ever caused such a reaction that Ned knew. His dark chuckles were enough of a response as his hot mouth brushed down your sweet, soft neck.
His larger hand moved down your back; shivers running down your spine once more before he palmed at your arse. His hand came down and had you gasping out at the slap. It only made Ned more amused as he did it again and again. You moaned into the pillow once more as your creamy, sensitive pussy clamped down.
“Ned..oh - ah, gods..” You whined and moaned out as your body began to rock back against his thrusts. Those soft, ample breasts of yours bouncing. His thicker fingers brushed over your pebbled nipples and pinched them. His larger hand moving down your stomach and pushing against the bulge his fat cock was creating.
Ned’s dark chuckling echoed in your ear once more as you practically squealed in pleasure. Your body is arching against him with deep need. The climax that had come over you so strongly was threatening to push you over the edge. His fat cock throbbed some more as Ned began to grunt in your ear. Your wetness squirts around with every thrust.
Ned himself couldn’t stop his own climax as he bottomed; pushing against your bulge once more as you whimpered so prettily. He pushed you further into the sheets as his soft, brown eyes full of desire fluttered shut. His cum flooded your creamy pussy as you began to milk him. The wet, obscene noises echoing around the room.
Still, he was not finished. His hand snaked around your stomach as you clung to the covers and trembled against him. His thick fingers roughly rubbed at your sweet, sensitive clit and you began to whine for him to stop. “Please…” You whined and found the strength to look up at him whilst his smirk still tugged on his lips.
“Hmm, we need heirs, my love….do we not?” Ned purred as he leaned in and licked up your neck. His mouth watering at your taste and scent. “You are such a good, pretty wife, hmm?” He continued to tease you. The compliments coming your way only had a blush travelling your soft skin, which only caused him to chuckle.
“And you enjoy such activities..” Ned hummed as his hips slowly began to rock now; pushing deeper inside your creamy pussy. Your eyes rolled at the intense pleasure beginning to build inside you once more. Gods, you were so sensitive and each thrust had your wetness soaking his fat length as he throbbed inside you.
Your toes curled as his hot mouth was soon capturing yours passionately. His tongue pushing in to dance with your own. His larger hand gently cupping your face as he pushed deeper; his body completely on top of you. Your eyes rolled as his fat head bullied the soft, spongy spot that had you whimpering and drooling for him.
He sucked on your tongue some more as his thrusts only quickened; his desire to fill you again rising inside him.
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a-libra-writes · 10 months
Note
as I wallow in my fever filled misery I binge your blog for most of the day and i absolutely love it, i hope it's okay if i ask for whoever you want from ASOIAF with their sick s/o love you
Im sorry this is hittin so late anon! I hope you recovered well~ Here's a couple peeps for ya.
Brandon - He's terrible at noticing when he's getting sick himself, and actually sitting and resting ... so while Brandon will notice when your energy is low or you don't feel well, he doesn't worry until you finally collapse. Then he feels terrible while he carries you back and you're set up in a spare room (he wouldn't mind sharing the bed, but he's already been lectured to death by the maester about what a bad idea that is. He doesn't care he probably sneaks into the spare room anyway.
Because Brandon is restless on a good day, so when you're feeling ill and awful, he's distracted. He keeps thinking about you throughout the day, and checks on you often. If you're not improving, he's doggedly following the maester around and hovering and trying to be useful and just ends up getting kicked out. Everyone's relieved when you finally improve, and yes, he gets sick because he couldn't stay away but it barely knocks the guy out. Not fair.
Ned - Ned would be the one who notices your energy dropping and the loss of appetite in combination with the change in weather. It's especially uncanny if you're someone who doesn't get sick often, and he still figures it out. He's also the type who offers you warm food and rest early on, in hopes you'd shake off the cold early. It's all fun and games to tease Ned about being a mother hen until your sickness gets worse and you're stuck in bed. Great. He won't say "I told you so", buuut he still laughs a little when you complain about being stuck in bed all day.
Ned feels bad about you having to be holed up in a spare room, though, but at least you're in one of the heated ones. He visits at least three times throughout the day, bringing whatever you need and keeping you company if you'd like it. If you're the sort who wants to be totally alone when you're sick, he respects it, but he's gotta stop by to at least say goodnight. Also, it's just Ned's luck that he gets sick just days after you do, every. single. time. It's usually worse, too.
Benjen - He does what he can with what's available at the Wall. While he keeps his usual jovial self up around you, wanting to encourage you, he privately worries about your health. Benjen sneaks in extra furs and extra food - If anyone catches him, all he has to do is drop the smile and glare them down. It's surprisingly effective. He'd like to stay by your side all day and night, but he can't risk getting ill himself and there's work to do.
So Benjen comes in in the morning and late evening, starting by giving you a kiss on the brow, then making sure you're comfortable, then showing off whatever he snuck out of the kitchens. He's got a nautral and relaxed bedside manner, but can be surprisingly stern if you try to get up before you're ready. Maybe if this was the South, but the Wall isn't the place to risk it. Oh and he gets sniffles and sick later bc he kept up with the kissing.
Stannis - What a surprise, Stannis matter of factly states you're in no condition to go about your usual business, and you ought to set up in the spare room. Maester is called, food brought, medicine taken, done and done, right? Back to work. The thing is, if you often ask for him and you're clearly not feeling well, he has a difficult time getting back to his duties. He tells you many times to call a servant, but the guilt actually starts to bother him, especially if you get worse before you get better. Stannis sits on the very edge of the bed (his bedside manner is hilariously bad, don't worry,) and keeps asking you to go back to sleep and stop chattering.
His own health actually isn't that bad, especially considering the seige, but guess what. That one time you got out of bed to get something yourself, he caught you and irritably carried you back? That's what gets him. Stannis still doesn't get as sick as you do, but he's definitely bellyaching about it while you take care of him.
Oberyn - He's the sort of man whose either a godsend when you're sick, or driving you up a wall. It depends! If you want constant attention and fussing, Oberyn will indulge in your neediness all you want. He rather likes it, feeling like he's helping even if you don't immediately improve. If you want to be left alone to puke and snot in peace, well ... he has a hard time staying away. Oberyn wants to be the one bringing your medicine and food, whatever you need, and he wants to stay and linger. Even if it's just to chat, or run his hand down your back.
And yes, he’ll still want to share the bed unless you’re in an absolutely awful state. You'll have to kick Oberyn out eventually, or just move to one of the guest rooms yourself, otherwise he’ll get sick - except he never does, the jerk. Must be all the citrus.
Ashara - She's also the sort of person who would pick up on the weather changing and the change in your attitude, and point out you're probably getting sick. She says it so suddenly, and it's so early, you wouldn't believe her ... aaand two or three days later, you're laid out in bed. Just great. Once the maester is done with his business, Ashara likes to visit if it's just a cold. She's smart about being careful where she touches you, not getting too close, avoiding your cough, she even brings a citrus fruit basket and implores you to eat some. Her bedside manner is lovely too, and she brought your favorite book? Alright, this isn't so bad.
She will stay away if you start getting worse, and it just makes her worry more. In that case she's making sure the maester is bringing in gifts, even if you feel too poorly to enjoy a book or a bouquet of flowers - it's about knowing that someone cares and is worried about you.
Asha - It's straight to the spare room with you. Nope, no whining, no ifs or buts, no kisses no matter how much you whine about it. Asha loves you but she is not about to have you snotting and coughing all over the bed. At least she's not about to let you be totally miserable, Asha's pretty good about barking at you to eat more and drink water. There's not a lot in the way of medicine on the Iron Islands, but Asha's recovered from some pretty nasty spells before. She figures you'll do the same.
... There's some worrying when it takes a while. If you try to be stubborn and suffer through what's probably pneumonia, then Asha will drag a maester over from the greenlands by his ankles. Hiding weakness like a proper Ironborn is all well and good until you're coughing blood, then she calls you a fool and fusses endlessly.
Roose - He'll tell you that you're getting sick, and mention you ought to do something about it. His suggestions are pretty terrible, though - no, Roose, you aren't drinking that weird wine or doing leeching or bleeding or whatever. You're fine. Except when the flu finally hits, and you're fighting off his damn maester with a stick. Weird treatments aside, Roose seems like his aloof self, though you're also too addled by fever and congestion to pay attention to his comings and goings. He's actually keeping a close eye on your progress and more or less threatening the maester and servants that he expects you to improve within a fortnight, as if they can directly control it. Well, they better figure something out.
Getting worse means Roose actually ending your sickroom, as if there's something others have missed that only he can see. He spends a lot of time ... watching, and while his face is impassive, there's worry. A lot of worry. He might start disposing of the help and this maester if you don't get better. A lot of the irrational, explosive bloodlust anger that he's spend years burying down is starting to bubble up and there's not a lot of outlets for it. Once your condition turns around, it calms itself, if only for a while. He still won't forget his servant's incompetence.
Jaime - For seasonal colds and a yearly flu, Jaime is gonna avoid you like the plague because a) he hates getting sick and b), all the snotting and vomitting is gross. ... And Jaime's actually not good at dealing with a loved one whose ill, both in the sense it's difficult to see them that way, and he has no idea what to do. You think his father gave a damn when he was ill, or let that be an excuse to stop training? You think his siblings had any idea what a good bedside manner was?
It's easy for him to tease once you're recovering and able to leave the sickroom, though his barbs aren't as pointed. It isn't easy when you aren't recovering quickly, or when you get worse. He doesn't know what to do with himself, so Jaime acts out in a way, threatening the maester, being in an irritable mood, having no way to help because this isn't his area of expertise.
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llonelygoddess · 6 months
Text
How they react to...Finding out you're pregnant
Romantic Pairings: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Theon Greyjoy, Jaime Lannister, Khal Drogo, Jorah Mormont, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Gendry
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Ned Stark: This man is over the moon when you tell him you’re expecting. He’s raised 5 already but for you he’d raise another 5 if possible lol He’s always got his hands on your belly and asking if you need anything. His favorite thing to do is talking to the baby later at night when you’re asleep, whispering how much it’ll be loved and cared for by the both of you.
Margaery Tyrell: Thrilled. You two definitely planned this pregnancy so she’s thrilled to hear you’ve finally conceived. She’s keeping Maesters around the clock just for you and making sure you have regular check ups. You both love looking at all the fabrics and books and toys you’ll be gifting your baby. She wants this child to have everything she had and more, so beware your child may be spoiled rotten lol
Pre Reek!Theon Greyjoy: Theon doesn’t even know what to say. He’s nervous about what that would mean for you and the child title wise. Would the babe be labeled a bastard? Would you be treated as a whore? The questions will drive him crazy if you don’t bring him back down to earth. As much as he’s there for you, you have to be there for him during this time.
Jaime Lannister: In the beginning he’s more worried than anything. Knowing how crazy Cersei is he has to hide you away, promising to be with you soon. Once he finds a way to sneak away to you for good, he’s all hands on deck. He’d learn to cook a bit, take up the cleaning, even learn to stitch a little to give the baby an embroidered blanket. It’s not what you expected but considering his other kids barely know him it makes sense how serious he is about this one. He wants to get it right this time.
Khal Drogo: He sees you as his goddess, mesmerized with the way you carry his child. He kisses your belly and announces it to the whole Khalasar. During your pregnancy he doesn’t baby you, finding beauty in your strength, but he is wary of you being around the other men. They’re rough and callous and you are soft and breakable, something that keeps him up at night. Whenever he goes out riding he always comes back with a gift that he presents to you in front of everyone.
Jorah Mormont: He never thought he’d be lucky enough to have children, especially with someone as special as you. He’s definitely crying when he hears the news. He can’t help it, a family of his own is all he’s ever wanted. Even knowing how strong you are, he’ll ask you to stay home and to let him do any and all work that needs to be done. He’s heard horror stories of pregnancies going wrong and he refuses to let anything happen to you.
Brienne of Tarth: Finding out you're pregnant would be the scariest moment of her life. Which isn't to say she doesn't want kids, but the world you live in wasn't ready for a relationship like yours. Two non-men finding love within each other wasn't accepted, let alone them raising a child together. Eventually, through many talks with you and Podrick, she calms down enough to enjoy this special moment in time with you.
Missandei: When Missandei first finds out, she's immediately in preparation mode. With the life she's lived she knows how cruel and evil life can be, so she takes it upon herself to make everything as perfect for you and the babe as possible. She’s asking Danaerys for healers and compiling blankets and toys from nearby towns. You’ll want for nothing with her by your side. When she’s not in crisis mode she’s sitting with you in bed fantasizing about the languages and history she’ll teach the baby.
Podrick: He gets so overwhelmed when you tell him he faints. Poor bb. When he wakes he asks if it was a dream and when you tell him no he kisses you. He’s another one that never really thought about having a family but he’s more than ready and capable of doing it. He’s always gushing about you and the baby to Brienne or really anyone who’ll listen. Loves to put his ear to your belly and just listen.
Gendry: He never planned to have kids so young, but when you told him about the baby he realized this was his moment to step up and be better. Being a Lord now he’s able to take care of you in ways he never thought he could. Giving you a handmaid and guards is just the beginning of how he wants to support you. He worries all nine months about whether he'll be good enough for your babe, so please rub his back and tell him he'll be the best dad ever. And he will.
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axelsagewrites · 11 months
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For that Ned Stark request...I was thinking a smut with low-born reader, maybe - I don't really know if your comfortable writing about cheating, or it could be before Catelyn during the war or after - he could be needing relief due to stress or pressure and reader could acting like a bit of a minx...
Ned Stark*MiLord
Pairing: Ned Stark x f!reader
Summary: Ned befriends a baker who helps him manage his stress
Warnings: p i v sex, innuendos, oral m receiving, ig you could say cheating but Cat and Ned are privately separated cause I don't think Westeros would approve of divorce :/ 18+
Word count: 2992
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Masterlist Here
For that Ned Stark request...I was thinking a smut with low-born reader, maybe - I don't really know if your comfortable writing about cheating, or it could be before Catelyn during the war or after - he could be needing relief due to stress or pressure and reader could acting like a bit of a minx...
It was hard not to be an admirer of the Stark men especially when you were always so close by them. One Stark man that is. ever since your arrival at Winterfell it was hard to keep your eyes off Ned Stark.
You had come to Winterfell a few weeks ago for work and ended up getting a job in the kitchens as a baker. It often meant you were awake before the sun to make the bread for everyone else’s breakfast. However, once you were finished with your work for the day around noon you were free to do as you pleased unless the chef requested your assistance on an extra shift.
One morning for you and night for everyone else you awoke to venture down to the kitchens to prepare the seemingly never endless amount of bread needed for Winterfell. There were other bakers as well of course but you were always the first to arrive at the kitchens each morning.
The moon was still shining brightly over the castle, and you walked slowly to bask in its light. There was no one else awake and wandering the corridors so you didn’t bother to much with your clothes. You had of course thrown on a dress, but your chest was very much exposed in it, something you enjoyed doing but the up tightness of the rest of the North seemed to frown upon. You also opted to carrying your cloak and savour the cold breeze on your walk as once you reached the kitchens you knew you would be sweating till you left them. Any other time of day and you may have felt exposed at your careless dress.
The walk also served as a time for you to try and wake yourself, something you apparently had not been doing well. Perhaps he moved with swift silence or maybe you were too tired to notice but when you turned the corner suddenly you smacked into the man you admired in secret.
It was not a soft bump either as a yelp came from your lips and Ned had to grab your shoulders to steady you, “My Lord, I’m so sorry,” you breathed out, suddenly awake, “I did not hear you,”
“It was an accident don’t fret. I didn’t hear you either” he assured you, his hands lingering on your shoulders. The warmth of his touch comforted you more than his words, “What are you doing up so late?”
“So early,” you corrected with a small smirk, too tired to bite your tongue. Luckily Ned chuckled as his hands fell from your shoulders and suddenly you were cold again, “I’m off to start preparing the bread milord,”
“Ah a baker,” Ned smiled down at you, “I never realised how early you had to wake up,”
“Its hard to get used to,” you admitted, smiling yourself in his company, “But we do what we must. Im sure others have it much harder,”
Neds smile faltered before a sad one replaced it, “We do what we must,” he agreed, “I suppose I should let you get to it,” he said as he turned to walk away.
Without thinking, just wishing for a few more words, your hand shot out to grab his arm gently. Ned turned round with eyebrows furrowed but no anger in his face, “If you don’t mind me asking milord is everything okay? it’s awfully late for someone who has not slept to be awake,”
Ned sighed, “It is,” but you saw him force the smile back onto his face, “I couldn’t sleep very well. My mind is…very active at times,”
“I’m sorry milord,” your hand was still on his arm but slipped down to just above his wrist, your fingers ghosting the edge of the fabric of his sleeve, “If you ever need a friend milord, I’ve been told im an excellent listener,”
“I appreciate that truly, but I do not wish to burden you,”
“Tis not a burden milord. It is my desire to serve house Stark,” you told him, suddenly feeling bolder at how he allowed your touch. You lowered your hand to hold his softly and he let you. “Whether it be in baking your bread or lending an ear or whatever you desire milord. I came to Winterfell to serve,” his hands were rough and callused but warm and you craved his touch when you felt how they were against your own skin.
Neds’ breath caught in his throat, “You honour me…” he trailed off, waiting for you to give your name which you did. “(Y/N),” it sounded so sweet off his tongue, “But I think it is time I found a bed,”
“Very well milord,” you took your hand back from his and you swore you saw him reach for it again before correcting himself, “Sweet sleep milord,” and with that you walked away, deliberately slow with a slight sway in your hips as you felt his eyes on you. however, once you turned the corridor you scurried to the kitchens
That was your first encounter with Lord Eddard but not your last. Occasionally you began to bump into the Lord on your walks to the kitchens. You were beginning to think he deliberately stayed up later to see you but then you had began waking earlier as well. He began to walk you down to the kitchens, sometimes even talking with you in the kitchen as you awaited your fellow bakers. Slowly but surely, he began to open to you.
He told you of the struggles he had with his fellow lords and his general duties but then he confirmed what many had speculated. He had essentially separated from Lady Catelyn after many arguments and fights. She had taken up her own chambers and only spoke to him regarding their children or in front of the other nobles.
From the bags around his eyes, you could tell it had not been an easy conclusion to come to. “It must be so hard to have to sleep alone again,” you said as you walked to the kitchens, Ned by your side.
Ned sighed but nodded, “Aye well I don’t know what else I can do,”
“There’s nothing you can do,”
“I made a vow,”
“It is not your fault she won’t let you love her,” you told him, trying to bring him some comfort, “You swore to protect her, and you have, give her children which you did, you have broken no vow,”
Another heavy sigh fell from his lips. You linked your arm with his, something you knew he was originally hesitant of but not once had someone even seen you walking together so now, he was more open to your touches. “I don’t understand how she could do it,” you said, and Ned shot you a curious look, “If you were my husband, I don’t think I would be able to leave your chambers to start with,” you said with a teasing smile.
Ned chuckled at your boldness. Up until now he had never reciprocated your flirtations or innuendos, you had even noticed him glancing at your chest in the past. He would always chuckle and move on. “If you were my wife, I wouldn’t let you leave them,” this night was different.
“You flatter me milord,” you said, placing a hand to your chest in fake shock.
His eyes lingered on your chest before flickering back up to your face that still wore its teasing smirk, “I’m sure you’ve experienced much flattery before,”
“I have,” your cockiness made him laugh again, “but hearing it from you is the sweetest of sounds,”
“You pay me too much mind,” he chastised with a smile. “I enjoy our early mornings,” he confessed.
You stopped walking, now outside of the kitchen door you would be trapped behind for hours, “As do I. I only wish…” you trailed off, your eyes never leaving his.
“Wish what?” he asked.
Stepping closer, you rested your hand on his chest. You only wished you could strip him of his tunic right there, “That you would finally invite me to your chambers,”
“I- “Ned began to stutter.
 But you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before placing your hand on the handle to the kitchen, “I need to go to work. Goodbye Milord,” you grinned before quickly disappearing into the kitchens leaving a shocked Ned behind.
Perhaps you had went to far when Ned did not appear the next morning for your usual stroll however it got more curious when you learned he did not appear in any halls. The servants and staff at Winterfell were like flies on the wall so it did not take long to hear what had happened. Apparently, breakfast had been tense for seemingly no reason then Ned withdrew completely to the gods wood where he stayed till dinner. While the rest of the Starks dined, he went to his chambers, not even taking a bite of food with him.
Luckily you were friends with the people cleaning up the kitchens after dinner, so they didn’t comment on the food you had swopped into your basket. Even when the halls were busy no one seemed to notice you. you were able to get to Ned’s chambers in no time, somewhere you had dreamed of but never entered.
Before you knocked you pressed your ear against the door listening for any sounds before knocking when you were sure he was alone. “Who is it?” a grumpy voice shouted through the door.
“It’s me milord,” There was silence again for a moment before the door opened revealing Ned in just his undershirt and trousers, “I brought you some supper milord,”
Ned glanced up the empty hallway first before he moved to the side to let you walk in. his chambers were filled with soft greys and blues. He had a fire going in the hearth and the drapes were drawn so only the flames and a few candles lit the room. You noticed how comfortable his four-poster bed looked in comparison to your own cot. The life of a lord you supposed.
“You’re too kind my dear,” he said as he latched the door behind you. he gestured for you to sit at the table he and you complied, placing the basket on the table. “Im sorry I couldn’t make our stroll this morning,”
“Its alright milord. You can make it up to me another time,” you said with a slight smirk as you began to unload the basket onto the table. Ned took a seat across from you as he looked at the mini feast you had brought him, “You spoil me,”
“You deserve it milord. You work harder than anyone else at Winterfell,” you reached out to hold his hand, rubbing your thumb over the rough skin. “I worry about you,”
“You needn’t worry love,” Ned placed his hand over yours, “You’ve already done so much for me. You’ve been a gift from the gods.” You chuckled at his words. You were sure the gods would not approve of what their gift to Ned had been thinking about.
Ned ate some of his food but insisted you ate also. You moved your chair closer during your talk so you would be sat shoulder to shoulder with him. This gave you the perfect opportunity to lean in ways that exposed your chest which Ned was quick to look at. It also allowed for your hand to rest on his arm or shoulder or to wipe something off his face. Any excuse to touch him really.
You were laughing at one of his jokes when Ned smiled down at you, “I’m not sure what your fascination is with me love because no one’s ever laughed that hard at my jokes,”
“It’s not my fault no one else has appreciated you properly Lord Stark,” you leaned closer with a teasing smile. Neds’ eyes locked with yours and slowly you moved ever so closer.
Ned leaned forward slightly, faltering as he did, “We shouldn’t,” he murmured.
“Why not?” you whispered as your nose bumped with his.
“It’s wrong,”
“But how can it be wrong,” your lips were now ghosting over his, “when it feels so right?” Ned swallowed hard as he did his best not to lose composure under your gaze. “Don’t you deserve to relax Ned? To have some fun?”
The words must have got to him cause suddenly his lips crashed onto yours, his hand going to the back of your neck to hold you close. You gasped at first but quickly your lips fell into sink. It was you that introduced tongues but finally Ned didn’t seem to complain. He groaned when you pulled out of the kiss. you pulled your skirt up around your legs to allow you to climb into his lap easier before connecting your lips to his again.
His hands found your knees before slowly making their up your thighs, his fingers squeezing into the flesh at the top of your thighs. You manoeuvred slightly so that your clothed core would be above his cock which you could feel harden under the friction. Without warning you began to roll your hips into his which caused him to half groan and moan into the kiss and for his member to harden considerably more. His hands found your hips to help you set the pace.
“I want you,” you broke the kiss, pressing your forehead onto his, “I’ve been waiting all these weeks,”
Ned gripped your hips and stood up, pulling you with him. You couldn’t help a giggle as he quickly dropped you onto the bed. It was so much softer than you had imagined. Ned stood above you, his hands pulling off his shirt, “Are you sure about this love?” he asked. “We don’t have to,”
You sat up quickly, grabbing him by the waistband of his trousers to pull him closer, “I’m sure. This is what I want. I want you,”
Ned leaned down and placed a hungry kiss to your lips before you helped him rid himself of his trousers, letting his hard cock spring free. Ned crawled above you, kissing your neck, before loosening the strings at the front of your dress and pulling it down off your body, taking your shift with it. “You’re perfect,” he praised as he placed a kiss to your breast, squeezing the other with his hand.
You whined from which touch; your body almost jolting when he took your nipple into his mouth. “Please,” you whimpered under him.
“Please what?” Ned asked, realising your nipple before continuing to trail wet kisses across your skin up to your neck.
You stopped him, taking his face in your hands and looking him in his eyes. You brought his face closer to yours so that your lips brushed against his as you spoke. “Please fuck me,”
Ned’s lips crashed onto yours as his hand went between your bodies to find his cock. He took it in his hands and lined it up at your entrance, his tip rubbing against your wet folds. Finally, after weeks of tension and stress you gasped as he slid into you. a burning sensation took over your as he slowly filled you up. Ned stilled for a moment, his head lowering so he could kiss your neck. “Tell me when love,” he said, his voice husky and his eyes closed.
Finally feeling at ease, with a smirk, you began bucking your hips up, rolling them into his, causing Ned to release a loud groan, “Fuck,” he gasped as he began to thrust into you, his hands at either side of your head, “You feel so fuck- good,” Ned praised as his eyes screwed tighter shut with pleasure.
Your arm wrapped around his neck, pulling his lips to yours again for sloppy kisses as he continued his messy thrusts. Soon ned began to find a rhythm. He broke the kiss to lick his fingers before using them to rub circles on your clit. Moans began to fall from your throat, but Ned silenced them with his own lips. Your nails trailed down his back as you tried to conceal the moans he was causing.
Ned let out his own groans and soft moans which became strangled when your walls began to clench around him. You felt his cock twitching and began to roll your hips to meet him. His thrusts began faster but sloppier. Neds’ lips fell from yours, his head hanging low into your shoulder as he sped up. “Fuck, I can’t fuck,” he gasped as he quickly pulled out and fell to lay beside you, his cock still red and angry.
His hand went to move to his member, but you moved quicker. Without waiting for instruction, you moved to take him into your mouth. Ned gasped as your head bobbed up and down on his hard cock that was still wet from moments before. His hand went to your hair and within a few bobs of your mouth he was coating your mouth with his seed.
He was like a man gasping for air when you came up. “You still need to,” Ned tried to speak but you stopped him, placing a strong but brief kiss to his lips.
“Its okay milord,” you smiled as you held his face in your hands, “Another time?”
Ned grinned at your words, “Aye my lady. Another time for sure,”
No one was quite sure what had happened during Ned Starks seclusion but everyone at Winterfell noticed how much more relaxed he looked the next day.
Game of Thrones Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy 
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valeskafics · 1 year
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I would love to see headcanons for getting drunk with got characters (tyrion for sure ;), jamie,brienne, margaery and maybe ned)
HAHAA LOVE THIS!!!! UNDER THE CUT
Tyrion: ok, Tyrion is THE most fun person to get drunk with and that's a fact. the best political and philosophical discussions, he becomes SMARTER when he's drunk, the two of you have started keeping a notebook handy and writing down all your drunken ideas because when you sober up you read them and you're like??? damn we really did that????? I think he's hesitant to get intimate when he's drunk, but he'll definitely go for some kisses and cuddling!!!
Jaime: jaime is a whiny, needy drunk. if you leave for two seconds to go to piss even he's like... "can I come with you :(" you're like jaime.... no..... he follows you and sits outside the bathroom, clingiest drunk in the world, the type to start crying about something that happened to him when he was nine and he still holds onto it (CERSEI THREW LION SHIT IN MY HAIR AND I HAD TO CuT SOME OF IT OFF MY LOVE ISN'T THAT AWFUL!!! yes jaime... so awful)
Brienne: is a wild drunk! she totally comes out of her shell and will start dancing with you, out drinking all the men, cracking jokes, doing arm wrestling contests, but she also has the worst hangovers so you have to cut her off pretty early like... my love... lets go back to our chambers yes? NO I WANNA STAY WITH MY FRIENDS!!! you're like..... my love..... please.... YOU NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING FUN!!!!
Margaery: margaery is the giggliest drunk in the world, like she loves nights when you two get wine drunk in her chambers and gossip about anyone and everyone, kissing and heavy petting are guaranteed, she cuddles up to you, absolutely has some snacks sent form the kitchen, stays up the whole night getting absolutely shitfaced wasted and talking to you
Ned: ned is a horny drunk, im so sorry. he is normally such a reserved honorable man, but when hes drunk???? all he can think about is being around you, touching you, getting you back to his chambers. always kissing you, resting his chin on your shoulder, whispering in your ear, clingy + horny honestly
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drakoneve · 6 months
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The Bookshelf
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Game of Thrones
House of the Dragon
Sons of Anarchy
Mayans MC
The Walking Dead
Teen Wolf
Fire Country
The Vampire Diaries Universe
Vikings
LOTR/The Hobbit
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fandom-puff · 2 years
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I'm constantly switching between thoughts about those three men whenever I'm thinking of Westeros. I just can't decide between being cuddled and protected by Sandor, him just treating you like a fragile little kitten he needs to take care of, or being Lady Lannister and having one of the most powerful and stoic men wrapped around my finger, being his Lady wife and royally pissing off Cersei. On the other hand though, riding Ned in front of a fire sounds great too. 👉👈
Omg 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I went a liiiiitle bit overboard. There’s some reference to smut but nothing too explicit.
Living a peaceful life in the country with Sandor, far far away from the political cess pit of the capital. Raising chicken, maybe a cow or goat, travelling for miles on Stranger to trade goods with other farmers. Perhaps raising a few children of your own, or a dog or two… or both. Peaceful and rustic, without having to worry about saying the wrong thing or making a misstep in court. Not being a Ser and a Lady… just being Sandor and YN
Entering an arranged marriage to a man old enough to be your father, or even grandfather. Stepping into Casterly Rock or the tower of the hand as a meek as a kitten, afraid of the power your new husband (and his adult children) wield. Your marriage beginning with dutiful formality; a hand tucked into the crook of his elbow during walks; murmurs of ‘Lord Husband’ and ‘Lady Wife’; occasional late night visits to your chambers, for the purpose of procreation. But a frightened little kitten has no place at court, or the Rock. So Tywin has handmaidens and squires present you with bolts of rich red velvet, regal gold brocade, delicate lace imported from the Free Cities. He sends tailors to fit you with gowns more befitting of a noble lady rather than a maiden, Smithies to fashion intricate metalwork like belts and pendants, jewellers to craft stunning pieces with the rubies and gold that represent House Lannister. He has you meet with the Castellan of the Rock, the Maester, the cooks, the blacksmiths- all to teach you how to run Casterly Rock in his absence. He hosts meetings with the vassal houses of the West to ensure they respect you. To disrespect the lady of Casterly Rock is to insult Lord Lannister himself. What starts as a formal, cordial arranged marriage soon turns into Tywin fashioning you into Lady Lannister- not a trophy wife to sit pretty and sew, but a political force to work in tandem with him, slowly earning the respect of the Old Lion of Lannister.
Marrying Eddard Stark (because his honour would not allow him to take a mistress) after the death of Catelyn Tully. Initially your role is to run winterfell while Ned runs the North, and to see to it that the five stark children have a maternal figure to aid them through their grief. He won’t even share your bed for the first few months of marriage, and even then, the consummation was brief, done out of necessity to the gods to legitimise the marriage. But as the frigid winter sets in and the farmers leave their fields for the warmth of their homes, you and Ned spend more and more time in one another’s company. In silence, but nonetheless together. As the months pass, Ned’s grief begins to fade as he watches you with his children. Robb turns to you for advice and reassurance, the burden of being the heir hanging over him; Sansa begins to follow your every move, learning the ways of being a noble lady as she matures; Arya likes you, because you let her run around with her brothers, and had promised to teach her about the dragons of Old Valeria; Bran is keen to show you how high he can climb, and he enjoys the stories you and Old Nan make up; young Rickon enjoys your company, nuzzling to your breast when he is tired. Even Jon Snow seems at ease around you, and the bastard of Winterfell is allowed to sit at the high table with the rest of the Starks. Seeing you with his children awakens something in Ned. He realises your commitment to House Stark, despite being closer to Robb’s age than his. He begins to invite you to his chambers at night, to share hot ale and talk in front of the fire, or to read in comfortable silence. Months of waiting and restraint comes to a head when a gentle, dutiful kiss Goodnight just outside his door descends into one of passion and longing, and passing squires and servants watch in knowing amusement as Ned gathers you in his arms, his cloak enveloping you and guides you back into his rooms, kicking the door shut. You make love that night, on the thick fur skins on the floor in front of the fire, and afterwards you lay, entwined with one another as the warm orange of the flames bathes your naked skin in its glow. As the dull ache of his passion begins to bloom in your muscles, he helps you up and guides you to bed. Within minutes he has you again, and as you nuzzle into his side, fast asleep, he sighs softly, rubbing your hip, his fingers tracing over your belly. Perhaps his seed will take root in your womb. He has five children already, but he would like some with you. You deserve children of your own, and with winter coming, survival of the young is not always guaranteed.
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