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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

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.

#yandere game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #asoiaf x reader #yandere asoiaf #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #ned stark x reader #catelyn stark x reader #robb stark x reader #sansa stark x reader #arya stark x reader #jon snow x reader #yandere headcanons #x reader #reader insert

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fandom-puff · 10 months

Note

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

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

#eddard stark x reader #ned stark x reader #Ned stark imagine #ned stark headcanons #game of thrones headcanon #game of thrones au

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claymoresword · 4 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)

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.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

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.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

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?”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

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.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

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.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

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 heart 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.

#cersei lannister smut #cersei x reader #g!p reader #cersei lannister #ned stark #stark reader #fem stark reader #ned stark x reader #catelyn stark #g!p

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random-imagines-blog · 7 months

Text

Imagine being a Lannister and making a game of trying to make Ned Stark blush.

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

#Ned Stark #Ned Stark imagines #Ned Stark x reader #Eddard Stark #Eddard Stark x reader #Eddard Stark imagines #game of thrones #game of thrones imagines #imagines #requst #neds

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danytherelentless · 7 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

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.

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)

#ned stark x reader #ned stark x you #asoiaf x reader #got x reader #got x you #ned stark #eddard stark #got smut #asoiaf smut #smut #house stark #fluff

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writingsofwesteros · 7 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.

#1k drabbles #ned stark x reader #requests

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cdragons · 1 month

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❄︎ House Stark & Spicy Food ❄︎ - w/ spicy loving reader

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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drakoneve · 7 months

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The Bookshelf

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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llonelygoddess · 6 months

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Ned Stark wife headcannons ❤️👀

Being Ned Starks wife

A/N: Thank you for the request!! I'm always so excited to get these<3 I also added what I thought would be a cute wedding dress! Feel free to send more requests!

Marrying Ned after Catelyn's death was not easy and you knew this coming into the relationship. Your father was close friends with Ned, so to help stave off unwanted advances from other houses he offered you.

You knew Ned didn't love you, that this was solely a political move to strengthen both your houses, but you refused to let that get to you. This was your life now and you'd do your duties to the best of your ability.

The first few months after the wedding Ned requested that you slept in separate rooms and you respected his decision. It gave you time to settle into the home but left you quite lonely.

You found yourself watching over the younger children. Rickon, being too young to really know his mother, latches onto you quickly as well as Bran. While Bran knew his mother, he confided in you that they never got to spend time with her the way you were able to. This told you all you needed to know to take care of these kids and hopefully make your husband happy.

In the mornings before breakfast, you made it a habit to greet Ned and wish him well on his daily activities. With Rickon on your hip, you and Bran would spend time reading in the library until the older boys came to train with him. Watching them shoot arrows and spar together was exciting, and more than once you found yourself cheering them on.

You didn’t see it but soon the boys started competing to see who could get you to cheer for them.

Some days you'd sit in on Sansa and Arya's stitching lessons and honestly you could use the lessons as well. Showing off your horrendous stitches made both of the girls laugh and feel better about their own. Sansa felt a sense of pride whenever you complimented her stitching and once gifted you a beautiful flower bouquet she made.

Arya, of course, felt that once again she was being looked over for her sister. You could easily spot the hurt within her and went out of your way to compliment her on the things she was good at even if they weren't "proper".

One day, she sneaks off to the training area and tries shooting arrows. You discover her and instead of calling her back inside you decide to assist her with the little knowledge you’ve picked up from the boys. The first time she gets a bullseye she runs up to you giving you a tight hug. You both hear clapping in the distance and notice Ned standing off to the side with a brilliant smile on his face.

That night Ned asks you to his room for the first time since your wedding night. It caught you off guard but you gathered yourself and made your way over. It started off innocent with the both of you laughing and sharing stories about the kids. Then the discussion of your wedding night comes up, and how it was never truly consummated (because he’s a gentleman and didn’t want to pressure you). A glass of wine later and you both find yourselves under the sheets entangled in each other.

From that day forward you started sleeping in his room together.

The way this man can balance all his responsibilities and still be doting and loving is crazy.

Life with Ned is peaceful. He wakes you up in the morning with a kiss on the cheek, and prefers you to call him Ned in private. It wasn’t often you both had alone time but when you did it was spent reading to each other or talking about the day you had. He loved watching you with the kids, especially the younger ones.

On more than one occasion he’s had to break up a disagreement between the kids only to find out it’s about who can spend more time with you.

He couldn't help but smile at the small piece of happiness he's created with you here.

#ned stark x reader #ned stark #eddard stark #ned stark headcanons #game of thrones #got #game of thrones headccanons #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones preferences #got headcanons #got x reader #got fanfiction

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axelsagewrites · 6 months

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Ned Stark*Wife

Pairing: Ned x f!wife!reader

Kinktober Day twenty-five: breeding kink with Ned Stark – there is a reason why Ned has so many children and it’s not as noble as many assume

Word count: 1145

Warnings: horny Ned, desperate Ned, really horny Ned, m!recieving oral, teasing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

Ned Stark is an honourable man who serves his people and his gods to the best of his ability however his eyes were betraying him. All night he had watched as you danced around his name day feast. A southern quality of yours he usually enjoyed but tonight caused his cock to harden in his trousers. Well, that plus the sweet words you had whispered to him in his bed this morning before rushing away claiming you had ‘too much to do’.

His lords’ words fell on deaf ears since all his focus was on you tonight. When the feast began to lull, only drunken lords and giggling ladies left, Ned approached where you sat talking and giggling with friends. “Wife,” he said, his voice almost as Strained as his trousers had been all night.

“Husband,” you said, turning around giggling but your laughs fell into a knowing smirk when you saw the faint flush of his skin, “It is awfully late it not?”

“Aye,” he said, nodding to the ladies you had been sitting with, “I’m afraid I will have to steal my wife away,” he said as he helped you up from the chair and whisked you out of the hall.

“Why are you always such a little tease?” he questioned lowly in your ear, making sure no passing servants could hear.

You grinned widely, glancing over at your husband who walked very close behind you, likely to try hide the growing bulge you could feel anytime he bumped into you, “Because you like it my lord,”

The chamber door had no sooner slammed shut than your back was being pressed against it. your hands tangled in his hair while his fumbled with the strings of your dress, “I hate this thing,” he grumbled against your lips.

You laughed as you reached to unknot the ties he’d struggled with, “Liar,” you chastised, “I saw you watching me,”

He was never a wasteful man but soon he found himself ripping your dress just to get you out of. he chuckled at your gasp as his hands grabbed your hips, “Don’t worry I’m sure you can mend it,” he teased right back, giving you a taste of your own medicine as you stumbled towards the bed.

It was rare for Ned to be rough but that did not mean he was willing to wait. His hands gripped your hips tightly before throwing you back on the bed making you laugh as your back landed on the soft fabrics. Meanwhile Ned worked on pulling his tunic and undershirt over his head, tossing them in a heap somewhere with your discarded dress.

“Been thinking of this all night,” he said, his hands working on the laces of his breaches however you quickly sat up to take over. “What- “he tried to question as you pulled the fabric down, letting his already hard cock spring free.

“Relax my love,” you commanded him, taking his shaft in your hand and pumping softly making him groan, “and enjoy your gift,” you said before you began to trail kisses up his shaft. When his hand moved to rest on the back of your head you took your signal to sink your mouth down on his cock and Ned groaned loudly as your head began to bob up and down.

All the tension from the night plus the sight of his pretty wife using her pretty lips to suck him off made it hard for him not to spill down your throat. Instead, he did his best to hold back, not wishing it to be quite over yet but when he felt your hands cup his balls, he couldn’t help but pull you off his cock, enjoying the sight of spit trailing down your lips.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commanded in that stern tone that drove you wild and he knew it. its why he would always shoot a knowing glance your way whenever he had to use it on a lord.

You did as you were told and felt the bed dip as he positioned himself behind you, “Been thinking about this all day,” he said, running his tip along your slit making you shiver, “So have you apparently. So wet for me,” he chuckled, enjoying how your head buried into the pillow in embarrassment.

“Not gonna waste it by finishing in that sneaky mouth of yours,” he said, lining his tip up with your hole but not quite yet pushing in making your hips wiggle, desperate for the friction, “Wanna see you dripping with it,” he said before suddenly pushing in.

You gasped, gripping at the sheets as his cock began to stretch you perfectly. He went slow at first, sinking in till he was buried inside you with a low groan. Ned tried to wait a moment, allow you to adjust, but your hips moved back, and he lost all his honour.

He gripped your hips tightly, fingertips burning flesh as he began thrusting. The bed began to jolt, the wooden headboard beginning to hit off the stone wall, but the noises didn’t matter. Especially not when he could still hear the sweet moans coming from your mouth.

His hand reached around your hips, moving to rub fast circles on your clit making you clench around him. “Fuck,” he began to murmur but he wasn’t ready just yet. His other hand moved to push your back down, deepening your arch till his cock was able to hit another spot he had found many times.

As you felt him begin to pound the familiar nerves your moans became louder even as you buried your face into the pillow. A familiar tightening spread across your stomach as your peak threatened to spill only to be encouraged by your husbands’ words.

“Come on,” Ned mumbled, his thrusts becoming messy, “Let go. You know you want to,” he said, “Just c’mon and-fuck,” he gasped as he felt your body tighten and your walls clench around him again. A loud moan left your lips as you felt your peak crash over you, but the feeling just made his thrusts harder.

Curses fell from his lips as he fucked you through your peak just to hit his own. His eyes tightened, his body tensing, but his thrusts didn’t stop till he had ensured he’d fucked his seed deep inside you, enjoying the feeling of filling you up.

Ned paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath as he felt his cock begin to go soft. As he pulled out, he smirked briefly at the sight of you dripping before collapsing onto the bed beside you. “Are you okay my love?” he asked, reaching to his bedside drawer to pull out a fresh rag.

“Yes,” you laughed as your husband moved to clean you up, “Are you sweet husband?”

“More than okay,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @valeskafics

#ned stark #ned stark imagine #ned stark x reader #ned stark smut #eddard stark #eddard stark imagine #eddard stark smut #eddard stark x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones show #game of thrones #game of thrones smut #game of thrones x reader

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a-libra-writes · 11 months

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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.

#i feel like i did something similar but i have no ideaaaaa #anyhoo!#game of thrones x reader #got x reader #brandon stark x reader #ned stark x reader #benjen stark x reader #stannis baratheon x reader #oberyn martell x reader #asha greyjoy x reader #roose bolton x reader #jaime lannister x reader #ashara dayne x reader

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