#Ned Stark x reader smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daniellewritesfr · 1 year ago

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𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲

Paring: Jon Snow x f!Reader

Summary: You arrive in Winterfell lending aid to House Stark but seeing Jon brings back lost feelings you both share.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, kissing, fluff.

Word count: 1.4k

Your heart pounded in your chest as you rode through the gates of Winterfell the familiarity of the high stone walls and the sight of Stark banners bringing back the memories of your childhood. You had, in the past, spent many years in Winterfell growing up with the Stark children. Your father became a good friend of Ned Stark; while fighting alongside each other during Robert's rebellion. Leading to many years spent in the castle.

You arrived in the courtyard of Winterfell, the cloak you’re wearing doing surprisingly little to suppress the cold winds of the North. You had been called as a bannerman of house Stark to lend aid and fight the white walkers beyond the wall. You look around, all the people of Winterfell seem to have solemn faces ‘it’s quieter than I remember’ you think to yourself while dismounting your horse stirrups rattling, the stable boy rushes over to take the reins from your gloved hands leading your horse away. Your men follow you, dismounting their horses, gathering their things and moving supplies, all of a sudden the yard is buzzing with movement.

“Y/n!” you turn at the sound of your name to see Sansa walking towards you, “lady Stark” you bow slightly she lets out a small laugh as she embraces you, “you mustn't call me that y/n” she smiles “well you are lady of the North are you not” you ask “that I am yes, but to you it will always be just Sansa” she states “very well than Sansa” you smile “take me to Lord Snow.”

The castle is darker than you remember, as Sansa leads you through the doors of the great hall, you catch sight of Jon, the young man you once remembered as a solemn and brooding child.

Walking past the large tables in the middle of the hall you pull off your gloves, you look up to see Jon sitting at the high table reading a letter “Jon” Sansa says he looks up, his face breaking into a warm smile when his eyes land on you. You can’t help but smile back. You haven’t seen Jon in a long time, not since before he left to join the Night’s Watch. “My lord,” you take a slight bow, he stands and begins to walk towards you not saying a word, his gaze lingering.

Finally he speaks “My lady”. He lets out a small laugh before wrapping his arms around you, you can feel the warmth radiating off of him even with the layers of fur between you, he lets go resting his hands on your shoulders before they move to cup your face.

“Look at you” he mutters, eyes raking across you he pulls away “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I’m sworn to House Stark my lord” you reply “it is an honor to fight for your family.”

“My lord” Jon repeated “since when were you one to be so formal”? He teased.

You can’t help but smirk, while walking past him with your hands clasped behind your back making your way to the table running your fingers along the edge,the teasing tone in Jon’s voice luring out your own wit. “And here I thought that being declared King of the North automatically earned you the title of ‘my lord’.”

Jon chucked, a low rumble escaping his throat, “yes it does except, we grew up together there is no need for formality between us.”

“I suppose you're right” you agree, your voice lightening. “However don’t let that get to your head, a little formality never hurt anyone.”

Jon raises an eyebrow playfully. “Is that so? Then perhaps I should start using ‘my lady’ whenever I address you.”

You laugh “you can certainly try but, I can’t promise I won’t retaliate”

Jon shakes his head, a smile dancing on his lips.

A fortnight had passed since you'd first arrived back in Winterfell, and tonight you were dining with the Starks and their men in the great hall, enjoying the loud conversations and laughter ringing throughout the room. It had been a long while since you’d allowed yourself a good time. You spent the night laughing and socializing with the others. Not noticing the way Jon was looking at you.

As the talking and laughter slowly began to die, people began to retire to their chambers, you being one of them as the fatigue from the day's ride was finally wearing on you. Standing up making your way out to a long hallway lined with sconces providing a small amount of light as you pass various chambers while walking to your own.

Opening the door you’re greeted with warmth radiating from the fireplace, you walk to a small table in the corner of the room picking up a few letters that you had yet to open, before dropping them back down rubbing your temples knowing that the night would be full of endless reading.

Jon hadn’t put much thought into what he was about to do, maybe it was the wine or maybe it was just pure ignorance he thought to himself, as he was making his way through the dimly lit corridors. When he arrived at the door, his heart was pounding in his chest taking a deep breath before he raised his fist to leave a soft knock.

While on your 3rd letter of the night you hear a light knock at your door, getting up from your seat at the table curious as to who it could be. Unlatching the door expecting it to be Sansa you were startled to see Jon standing on the other side.

“Jon” you said surprised “it’s late”

For a moment he didn’t say anything, his gaze lingering on your face.

“Evening” he said “I hope I haven’t disturbed you”

“No, it’s alright” your eyes scanning his face for any indicator of what he was there for. Tilting your head slightly to one side. “Has something happened?” you asked

“No, no, may I come in?”

“Yes of course. Please come in.”

Moving aside Jon steps through, making his way to stand in front of the fireplace. He looks nervous, still thinking something had happened you ask once again.

“Jon” you pause, he looks up, his eyes finally meeting yours. The look on his face starting to worry you.

The silence hung like smoke in the air as you awaited his response.

He mumbles, moving one of his hands to run through his hair, turning back to face the fire watching the flames dance. You cautiously walk up behind him reaching to put a hand on his shoulder, he turns to face you leaning into your touch.

Long forgotten feelings wash over you.

“Jon, please tell me” you insist, your hand now resting at his jaw he leans further into your touch before covering your hand with his. You stayed like this for a short time relishing in the moment, the unspoken understanding filling the space between you. Removing his hand from yours to cup your jaw as he draws himself closer, his eyes searching yours for permission.

You quickly nod, before he closes the gap between you, lips brushing together. Your lips part slightly, letting his tongue slip inside. His hand glides to the nape of your neck, then moving to your waist, pressing your bodies together. You moan into the kiss, hands running through his hair while he trails gentle kisses leading from your jaw to your collarbone, small breaths escaping your lips.

Pulling away, his gaze meeting your own.

“You have no idea what you do to me” he whispers.

The look in his eyes was evidence enough revealing what he felt without uttering a word. Yet he continues to speak. Hands coming back to hold your face.

“I-” he pauses for a brief moment gathering his thoughts. “You are my every thought” He breathes. “The only person able to ground me, make me feel whole. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of you. How I wasted all those years believing I had no chance, only to be standing here right now. With you.”

Tears begin to swell in your eyes threatening to fall.

“You consume every part of me, body and soul.” He gently wipes away the tears that begin to fall. “You are everything to me.”

You smile at him, leaning into his touch.

“I love you.”

The words feel heavy.

He starts to speak afraid of your rejection, you cut him off colliding your lips together for a brief kiss before pulling away resting your forehead against his, shallow breathing filling the room.

“And I you.”

The words so lightly spoken, Jon wasn’t sure he heard them.

Leaning in to kiss you softly once more, running a hand through your hair, his eyes full of nothing but affection. “My lady.”

#game of thrones x reader #jon snow x reader #game of thrones #jon snow #sansa stark #winterfell #daemon targaryen x reader #jorah mormont x reader #robb stark #house stark #ned stark #jon snow smut #got

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xxnymeriatargaryenxx · 2 months ago

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but imagine cregan slowly and carefully stroking your bare skin WITH his gloves on ??? 😫🦋🦋

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claymoresword · 3 months ago

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We Bleed The Same | Part: 2

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader🐺

Summary: On the road from Winterfell to King's Landing, Cersei and y/n find themselves reconciling with both old and new feelings as fate seems determined to tear them apart.

Wordcount: 2.7k

Pairing: Cersei x Reader

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, angst, pregnant cersei, kid fic elements, y/n & cersei's relationship is so not healthy but we move

Note: So we end here. although i do think there's room to expand this story into a full fic but idk if anyone would want that (let me know if you do and i'll consider it) but eitherway hope you enjoy!

ps. this one kicks off with a bit of smut so i'm sorry in advance or you're welcome lol

Loud, unrestrained moans fall from the queen's lips as you cup her breasts. She throws her head back once more, grinding hard against your lap, your length filling her to the hilt.

Cersei's hair flows past her shoulders in tumbles of gold, her chest heaving with every trembling gasp and breath.

Gods, she is beautiful.

Cersei takes her pleasure from you without reserve this morning, as she often does.

Since arriving in King's Landing this seems to be all she has done, anytime the both of you are allowed a moment together undisturbed.

A simple conversation somehow always escalates, and you find yourself in the queen's bed– your hot, writhing bodies entwined.

Cersei halts her movements suddenly, bracing her hands against your breasts as she finally comes undone around your shaft. The sensation of her clenching around your cock makes you groan, your eyes flutter shut for a prolonged moment and you nearly fail to realize Cersei climbing off your lap.

You shake your head at her as she collapses next to you, breathless and full of incredulity, although thoroughly satisfied. You'd let Cersei ride you all day and night if that is what she truly desired.

“I swear, it will fall off one of these days.” You quip in between heavy breaths, glancing at your own member.

You earn a chuckle from Cersei, one low and sultry, her chest is still heaving wildly as she turns on her side to look at you.

“Oh, no we can't have that..” She says in return, her tone aimed to mock, she feigns disinterest as she traced your abdomen with her fingers.

You merely scoff in response, deciding to reach over the queen to grab the goblet sitting on her side table.

You lift the rim up to your lips, taking a sip before eventually throwing your head with the intention of emptying the cup.

Although before you can, you feel Cersei strike you on the chest with the back of her hand, causing you to nearly choke.

“Don't you dare drink it all.” She warns, and you swallow what little wine made it into your mouth before surrendering the goblet.

Your expression twists in annoyance, yet the queen appears entirely unfazed by it.

“You do not need to hit me every time you want something.. Asking politely is what most civilized people do.” You take the jab at her but still, the older woman hardly reacts.

Cersei instead shrugs innocently as she puts the now empty goblet aside, a faint smile tugging on the corners of her lips. “I am the queen. I don't have to ask for anything.”

Your retort dies in your throat as Cersei suddenly inched closer, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck. You wrap your around her instinctively, holding her close.

This woman drove you insane.

The queen is entirely uninhibited and treacherous, like wildfire; Cersei does as she pleases. Nothing in the mortal world could dream of containing her.

She is maddening, she is cruel, and so damned intoxicating.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Soon a comfortable silence settles between the both of you, it goes on for long enough that you feel yourself nodding off, but the sound of Cersei's voice prevents you from falling asleep.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.” She declares quietly, her lips brush against your jaw before she breaks away to look at you properly.

“What is it?” You ask with genuine concern as you meet her gaze. You attempt to search her expression for any cause to worry, but Cersei betrays nothing of the sort.

“I am with child.” She says suddenly, and as her voice reaches your ears you can hardly believe what you are hearing; you pause.

“I am carrying your babe in my belly.” Cersei rephrases, as though you hadn't understood her the first time.

Still, you don't speak, merely letting out a chuckle in disbelief as you glanced at her belly, before placing your palm flat against it.

This only works to frustrate the queen even more. “Say something, you imbecile.” She hisses.

“Are you.. happy about this?” You find yourself inquiring, and Cersei only scowls at you as though it was the dumbest question she had ever been asked.

“Yes, of course I am.” She insists, grabbing your face with both of her hands, forcing you to look at her.

“You are going to be a mother, alongside me, at long last.” As Cersei speaks the words, they finally begin to sink in.

Yet, all you feel is an impending dread.

You are not prepared to be a parent. In truth, you haven't even given the idea much thought at all.

“The Gods have blessed us.” You say instead, and Cersei nods, her pleasant smile proves that she is content with your response.

You let her pull you into her embrace once more, and you hug her tightly in return– keeping your thoughts to yourself.

“A child born from you and I.. they are fated to do great things.” Cersei utters assuredly under her breath, only for you to hear.

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You had spent all that afternoon in the Red Keep's training yard, sparring with anyone who would agree to it.

Knight or squire, it mattered not, you simply needed a distraction from the unpleasantness that was constantly gnawing in your chest.

You are not ready to be a parent, you aren't certain you would be even decent, let alone good at it. but still, Cersei's happiness is what matters most of all.

You have to see this through no matter what.

“Begging your pardon, My Lady–” A voice rips you from your thoughts, you turn around to see a young squire standing behind you.

You watch him quizzically, and the boy stumbles over his words as though only just realizing that he has to explain himself. “The– the Lord Hand has sent for you. He has asked for an audience in the king's solar.”

You scoff bitterly at that. Ned's new duties as hand of the king had resulted in him evading you at every turn.

Always too busy to spend time with you and his own children– but now he summons his sister through a squire and expects you to obey his command without protest.

He is unbelievable.

“Tell my brother that I'm busy here, I'll see him when I can” You insist sharply, scowling just at the thought of entertaining Ned's command right now.

You observed as the squire's face grew pale at your refusal, he advances forward nervously.

“Forgive me, My Lady, he did mention it was urgent.”

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

You wince as you massage the knot in your shoulder whilst climbing up the steps towards the king's apartments.

Frankly not giving much thought to what your brother needed from you, or having much care for what he has to say at all.

A hand still on your sword arm, you push the heavy wooden door to Robert's solar open with your back.

The sight that you are met with when you enter makes your face fall.

Robert sits at his desk, Cersei stands next to him whilst Ned remains on the other side of the king.

Your expression twists further in confusion when you spot Catelyn stood by the window, a small child in her arms.

This does not make any sense– she is supposed to be in Winterfell.

“Has something happened?” You ask, entirely afraid of the answer. You turn to push the door closed, in an attempt to delay whatever this is, for as long as possible.

“Y/n–” Your sister by law is first to address you. Catelyn decides to set the child she is holding down before continuing, but before she can get a word out, the little girl sprints towards you, clinging to your leg.

The feeling of her tiny arms wrapped around you makes you stiffen involuntarily. You have never seen this child before, and yet there is something so familiar about her, some sort of inkling that you can't quite place.

“Who is this?” You ask, running your fingers through the girl's hair as she looked up at you giddily.

“A woman came to me, back in Winterfell–” Catelyn begins to explain, advancing towards you, but again, she is not allowed to speak for long.

“That is your bastard daughter, apparently.” Cersei answers your question bluntly, her tone laced with venom.

The look she sends your way causes your blood to run cold, you swallow, shifting uncomfortably. Your instinctive attempt to get the child to release you is to no avail.

The Gods make their japes, at the face of distress, they see fit to mock you.

You let out an uncomfortable laugh, one that causes Cersei to roll her eyes.

“I don't understand.” You utter, in hopes that dismissing it will somehow make it all ring untrue.

“Cat told me the woman that approached her used to work at the brothel.. when she became heavy with your child she had to find work elsewhere– she does not have the means to raise this little girl.” Ned explains, and the situation only begins to sound even more bizarre to you.

“That's.. not possible, I haven't been to any brothel in–” You start but the king swiftly cuts you off.

“Three years?” Robert chimes in, followed by a belly laugh that only makes you want to punch the man.

“Guess how old that girl is.” He inquires, and you grow quiet.

Cersei appears dissatisfied with your silence, she steps towards you in a last ditch attempt to help you and everyone else in the room see reason.

“How could you possibly believe that she is your daughter?” The queen questions openly, glancing at everyone else in the room before settling her gaze upon you.

“The whore is clearly just looking for you to feast her bastard in the king's hall.” Cersei accuses. Her words are harsh but you catch something else within her gaze, a look of desperation and true sorrow– it shatters you.

Ned shakes his head at Cersei's claim, it appears he has made up his mind on your behalf. “My sister's bastard or not, in the north we look out for our own. Whether this child is truly yours is unclear, but we cannot throw her out in the streets.”

You take in your brother's words, although you still fail to speak, it feels as though your voice does not matter in this instance, when things have already been decided.

Robert grumbles as he rises from his seat, evidently through with this discussion.

“Raise her here or don't, y/n. It matters not to me. She is your responsibility now.” The king says as he pushes past you to exit the room.

You watched as Cersei's expression hardened the longer she looked at you before finally averting her gaze in disgust.

“Your Grace,” You try but Cersei merely pushes past you harshly taking her leave as well.

Now you are at a loss. The child still sits by your feet, free of any predicament, entertaining herself by fiddling with the metal tip of your scabbard.

You look between your brother and his wife, and they only stare at you expectantly. You feel there is nothing left to do as you let out a sigh in defeat.

You crouch down to meet your daughter.

As you reach out to lightly pinch the girl's nose, she lets out an adorable giggle that makes you smile, before you look up at Catelyn once more.

“What is her name?”

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A few days have passed since a child had been thrust into your care unexpectedly and Cersei still refuses to speak to you.

Every one of your attempts at begging for her audience has been met with swift refusal.

It seemed the more you tried, the more it worked to provoke her.

The queen has since dismissed you as protector, and appointed another in your stead.

To add insult to injury, she has decided her brother, out of all knights, should take your place.

Cersei knows how to wound you and she does it well. How foolish of you to forget that.

This afternoon you approach the queen consort's bedchambers once again, only to see Jaime standing in front of her door.

You curse under your breath. You had hoped to force your way inside one way or another, but now that task is going to prove far more difficult.

“Let me see her.” Your request sounds more like a demand as you settle in front of the knight.

Jaime regards you with nothing more than a blank stare, looking you up and down before responding. “The queen is not to be disturbed, she is abed.”

You grimace at that before gesturing to your surroundings. “It is not yet nightfall.” You state a plain fact, and Jaime merely shrugs.

“The queen is not to be disturbed.” This time the knight does not bother to look at you as he speaks.

This alone fills you with a blind rage, you grip the hilt of your sword tightly, fighting every urge that tells you to unsheathe it.

Instead of challenging Cersei's twin to a swordfight, you lunge forward with the desire to strike him, but at the last moment, your fist makes contact with the wall next to his head instead.

Satisfied enough with the way Jaime flinches, you turn on your heels, storming off before the knight and do anything to retaliate.

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

For most of the late evening you had resolved to spend more time with your daughter.

So far, the little girl has surprised you in more ways than one. You had quickly learnt that she is shy around the other children, albeit not unkind to them. She loves to giggle, and is mostly well behaved– for a three year old.

The first few days with her had you constantly doubting if she was even your daughter at all, but you soon came to accept that your denial is hardly fair to her, none of this is.

You will give her a chance regardless; a place to call home. She deserves a mother, especially if the one that birthed her cannot care for her anymore.

As the hour grows late, you carry your daughter to bed, tucking her under the covers before placing a kiss on her forehead.

The girl grabs ahold of your collar then as she often did to make you stay with her for a little while longer, but sleep swiftly takes over, causing her arm to fall to her side.

You chuckle at the sight, stroking her hair one last time before retreating. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

As you make the move to turn away, the sudden feeling of arms wrapping around your torso makes you flinch.

Soon recognizing the familiar scent of lavender oil, you let out a breath of relief.

You turn in Cersei's arms to look at her, an easy smile appears on your lips as you meet her striking emerald gaze.

Such joy it is to finally feel her close to you again.

Cersei.. your love, your heart.

“I didn't think you would speak to me ever again.” You remark, caressing her cheek with your finger.

Cersei doesn't respond immediately, merely raking her fingers through your hair before harshly gripping a fistful of it, causing you to wince this time for a different reason.

“Do you love me?” She inquires, yet her expression remains unreadable to you.

She aims to make you uncomfortable, and it is working.

“You know that I do. More than anything else in this world.” You respond in earnest, a pleading look accompanies your words.

She nods at that, satisfied enough that she releases her grip on your hair.

Now she reaches down to guide your hand, holding it in place against her growing belly.

“Do you swear to never choose that girl over our child?” The queen demands, swiftly looking at the bed where your daughter sleeps peacefully and then back to you once more.

What Cersei asks of you is bold, it is perhaps unreasonable, even. Yet you don't hesitate with a response.

“I swear it.”

Cersei allows herself to smile then, she finally pulls you in for a searing kiss, one you return eagerly.

She breaks away and her mouth finds your jaw, and soon the shell of your ear before embracing you once more.

“If you ever betray me, I will have you gelded and your cock fed to the dogs.” The queen whispers her threat with a sweet smile, but you know that she meant every word.

“I will not betray you.”

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

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writingsofwesteros · 1 month ago

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Can we get a smutty Ned Stark x Targaryen!princess wife for kinktober 2024?

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

The soft moans were a frequent sound from the Lord of Winterfell’s chambers, even after these many years of marriage and pups Ned had given her. Still, the desire that ran through the Princess for her husband was like the fire her family was famed for. It seemed the old wolf was no different as his hold on her only tightened. Their lips passionately touched as Ned gently reached for her bright locks and brought his love impossibly closer. His grey eyes burrowed into her bright ones as soft groans of pleasure escaped him. His wife so prettily sunk down on his fat, already leaking cock. His larger hands slowly moved up her sides as the top of her pretty, silk dress began to fall.

“Never did I think I would have my own Targaryen Princess,” Ned purred in her ear as he pressed open mouthed kisses down her neck. The act alone caused her to shiver as their noses brushed together for a moment. The Lord of Winterfell began to press soft, open mouthed kisses down her bare neck as goosebumps followed his travels. His hot mouth soon captured her pretty, pink nipple that had only pebbled some more. The Princess slowly began to rock against him; her hands reaching for those broad shoulders to steady herself. Her head fell back as began to bounce herself; Ned lazily leaned back and allowed her to do all the work. She was such a beautiful sight; Ned could not resist watching.

“You have me - always.” She whispered her promise breathlessly as her fingers slowly moved through his hair. Ned hummed as he leaned closer; his hot mouth taking her pretty, pink nipple once more as soft mewls of pleasure escaped her. Her own hand slowly moved up and down his chest as her bouncing continued. His larger hands slowly moved to her hips now; guiding her against him whilst Ned moaned her name; his head falling back. How could she still be so tight, he thought to himself before his free hand was soon palming at her breast once more. Ned leaned in; brushing their noses together as her stomach began to tighten in anticipation.

Ned had never thought he would ever be this close to a Targaryen; never mind her being the mother to his heirs. His heart had been won over easily by the Princess and the love had only ever grown between them over the years that had passed so quickly. His thoughts were soon pushed away as his own pleasure began to take control. “My love,” the Princess cooed as she used his shoulders for leverage as his fat cock bullied her sweet, spongy spot with ease. He knew her body like the back of his hand as did his love. They were each other's missing parts. The sound of their bodies slapping against each other echoed in their chambers as her mewls of pleasure soon followed.

His fingers were soon brushing against her clit; rubbing again and again as his wife tried to keep bouncing. Ned could only groan as she clamped down on his twitching cock. The Lord only captured her pretty clit between two knuckles as she cried out his name. It was not long before the act pushed his wife over the edge. She squirts around his cock; collapsing against his chest as Ned only fucks her through her climax. His hand reaches into those bright locks of hers and keeps his Lady wife impossibly closer. His own hips continued to rock against her; building her climax up once more. Ned was never satisfied with his wife only having one release.

The night usually would end with the wolf between her thighs; feasting with hunger for her like no one before him. His sweet Lady could hardly keep her mind clear as she whimpered so sweetly in his ear once more. Her toes curled as her sweet breasts brushed against his chest again and again with her bouncing movement resuming. His hand stroked up and down her bare back as she only cuddled him some more. Gods, it felt good to be this close to him. She never wanted to be separate from him, even after all this time; their love had only grown. “I want another child,” she whispered into Ned’s ear as her kisses began to travel down his neck. His stubble caused shivers down her spine.

“We have enough heirs, my love.” The Lord of Winterfell replied as his free hand soon returned to her perky, ample breast. His mind flashed to when he could pinch her pretty, pink nipple and milk would flow down with ease. “Do you not want another, hmm?” She teased as his head leaned closer; his tongue moving over her pebbled nipple. Ned only hummed against her soft body; his larger hand reaching for her arse as he guided her movements once more. It seemed his actions spoke for himself as his wife giggled in his ear again. Oh, she knew how to control her wolf, that's for sure. It was never too hard; Ned was such an easy man and loving - it was what she loved about him.

It helped that he seemingly knew everything about her body and how to bring her to the most intense moments of pleasure. But more importantly; Ned made her feel safe in this world that seemingly only hated her. His embrace was warm and loving. It was all she could ask for and desire, she thought to herself as his lips found hers once more. Their tongues danced as she moaned his name like he was one of their Gods. Her hand reached for those locks of his as the act only deepened. She began to suck on his tongue as she gently shook against his chest. Ned only chuckled as he watched her lose control again but he was no better. His cock twitching against her gummy walls.

Her sharp gasp echoed as his Lady’s hold tightened on his shoulders as she creamed around his fat cock. Ned could only grunt as he pushed deeper; his own release ripping through him. Their lips lovingly met as his cum flooded her with ease. “I love you,” Ned whispered into her ear as their noses brushed together once more.

#ned stark x reader #got smut #kinktober 2024

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danytherelentless · 1 year ago

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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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hutchersonsgurl · 11 months ago

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Devil Wears Prada Negan Smith

Paring wife reader and Negan Smith

Warnings 18+ MDNI. Negan graphic violence smut graphic language

Word count:

Synopsis you are the wife of Negan Smith the two of you split before the month before the end of the world and now you and your son run into him again

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You and your son are Alexandra when the saviors are pulling up to the gate

"Little pig little pig let me in "Negan shouts

"Holy shit what the hell is going on? " you ask Maggie

"I have no idea" maggie says

Your son Mason is hanging onto your waist hiding behind you

Negan walks in with a leather jacket and a bat wrapped it barbed wires

He was like in through the gate and his eyes meet yours

"Holy shit is that my wife? Can you believe it, Simon? That's my wife I told you about and my son I thought y'all was dead with the rest of the world" Negan says with his signature smile

"Yeah you'd like that wouldn't you" you say pulling Mason behind you

"No darling I'm really happy to see you two" Neagn says walking towards you

Negan gets really close to you and is checking you out with his eyes

You know I'm sure your" wives" back at home wouldn't like you looking at me like this You say

"Now honey we both know none of them can compare to the original" Negan responds

"Stay away from my mom "Mason says walks in front of you

"Woah woah now you telling me that your don't remember your dad now?" Negan asks

"Oh I remember you and I also know you killed my friend Glenn and everything you have done to us so as far as I'm concerned I only have a mom" Mason responds

"Well shit my son has balls like his friend Carl " Negan says as he chuckles

"Now where is rick?" Negan questions

"He's getting more supplies for you" you respond back

"Well now I'll just wait for him then" Negan smiles

-----------------------------------------------------

Not sure about this one but we'll see

Part 2

Part 3

#negan fanfiction #negan smith x reader #negan x reader #negan smut #negan smith #negan x y/n #ned stark #jeffrey dean morgan #the walking dead

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shiggyshita · 1 year ago

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ShiggyShita’s GOT Masterlist

You can req any of these characters for hcs,drabbles,oneshots,and x reader or x [another character]

if there’s a character you’d like me to do that’s not on the list, please req it!

(read inbox rules)

work key: 🌲-fluff ⚔️-angst 🕷️-smut

Men:

Jon Snow -

no works yet

Bran Stark -

no works yet

Robb Stark -

no works yet

Ned Stark -

no works yet

Jorah Mormont -

no works yet

Podrick Payne -

no works yet

Tyrion Lannister -

no works yet

Oberyn Martell -

no works yet

Jojen Reed -

no works yet

Women:

Sansa Stark -

no works yet

Arya Stark -

no works yet

Daenerys Stormborn -

no works yet

None of these characters are mine! -All from Game Of Thrones-

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 4 months ago

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The Godswood

Robb Stark x reader

Summary: When the newest Lady of the North is chased into the woods, the lords of the north search for Robb Stark's wife

Warning: canon-level violence, no use of y/n, wildlings, nudity (but no smut), not beta-d (I literally typed this on my phone and posted it)

Word Count: 2.8K

Masterlist

“Robb?” the new Lady of the North’s voice rang through their chambers. “I thought I should go to the Godswood to pray,” she relayed her plans for the day.

Robb immediately exited the washroom of their chambers. “Is it necessary for you to pray in the Godswood? There is a perfectly good sept near the Great Hall.”

“I know but even you say you feel more inclined towards the nature of the north when you pray at the Heart Tree,” she shrugged.

Robb sighed. “But I am unable to bring you today. You know I have that meeting with my father and the bannermen,” the young lord argued.

“Robb, I will be perfectly alright,” she insisted, giving him a loving yet exasperated look. “If it makes you feel better I will bring guards with me but I am telling you I will be okay in the few minutes it will take me to wish for the health of your family.”

Robb looked reluctant still but grumbled out an agreement. “Fine,” he agreed, moving closer to his wife so as to press a kiss to her temple. “But do not stray from your guards. The Godswood can be dangerous.”

“I won’t,” she complied, calling after him as he returned to the washroom to continue shaving and she exited their chambers. Making her way to her father-in-law’s office, she was already shivering through the drafty hallways of the Stark family’s residence within Winterfell. Not being from the north had made residing here difficult in terms of becoming accustomed to the weather. But her husband was always willing to warm her up. And her mother-in-law, another northerner by marriage only, had given her tips of how to prepare for the cold.

Finally making it to the Warden of the North’s chambers, the guards allowed her to enter after announcing her presence in Lord Stark’s office.

Entering, she found that the first of the bannermen had already arrived. “Lord Karstark, Lord Amber,” she greeted the men. “My apologies, my lords, I did not realized your meeting had started.”

“Nonsense,” Lord Stark dismissed his daughter-in-laws concerns, always happy to see the girl that seemed to brighten his son’s life. Lord Stark considered himself to have made a few very good decisions in his life. One of them being his decision to marry Cat. But another one was orchestrating his eldest son’s marriage to the girl that stood before him. “The lords here were just telling me about their lands before the true meetings began. Is my son ready?”

“No,” she answered. “You know how particular he gets about his hair.”

The men erupted into laughter. “Wow,” Lord Karstark began, still recovering from his laughter. “Wish I had her for a daughter-in-law. My son refuses to even neaten his beard.”

“Yes, well, my son finds her input very valuable,” Lord Stark chuckled. “What can I do for you, dear?”

“I had just hoped you would assign me a guard. Robb insisted I take one into the Godswood.”

“He is smart to do so,” his father commended. “I will send you with two. Just to be safe.”

She gave her father-in-law a bashful smile. “Thank you,” she bid, exiting the office.

“Come,” the guard waiting outside the office bid. “I will assign your guards.” She followed him out of Ned Stark’s chambers to the hall where several had already been waiting for assignments. He looked to two of them, giving them orders to take her to the Weirwood tree.

“Aye,” both agreed in sync before breaking from the rest of the group. The pair then stepped up to their charge for the day. “My lady,” they both greeted.

She nodded to them in acknowledgement. “Well seeing as the assignment was already explained to you, let us go,” she explained, trying to relieve any awkwardness. She truly loathed to have guards follow her around wherever she went. In her childhood, guards were only ever needed when she left her family’s lands. But Robb had insisted on her either being with him or with armed sentries whenever she even left the Stark residence. Even just to visit the stables or library he insisted she have some sort of protection. Claiming that technically Winterfell was a fortress that could be under attack at any time.

Not much was said as the trio made their way out of the walls of Winterfell and into the forests surrounding the fortress. As she went, she could not help but shiver as the cold winds nipped at her neck and face. She dreaded the day winter actually descended upon Westeros as apparently the northerners considered this more “mild” chill to be summer as well.

Finally reaching the Heart Tree, adorned with a carved face, the new Lady Stark fell before the long reaching branches. Just as her face fell to her interlocked hands, a snapping twig broke her thoughts. Looking up, she found a wildling fifty feet or so away from her. She stumbled back, falling from her knees and onto her rear, her hands catching in the dirt.

The guard posted nearest to the wildling immediately came between her and the wild looking man. Her heart hammered in her chest as she observed his tangled hair and overworn clothes.

A yell from her other side drew her attention to the other guard who was now brandishing his sword against another wildling man holding a spear. Quickly scrambling to her feet, she moved closer to the Weirwood as if it’s branches would swat away any threats to her. Looking around frantically, she found three more wildlings creeping out of the trees.

“My lady, run!” one of the guards shouted as one of the wildlings jumped to attack him.

Scared beyond belief, she obeyed, rounding the Heart Tree to run away from the grizzled men. She had no idea where to go, she just prayed there weren’t more waiting for her behind the tree. As she sprinted through the forest, she spotted none but she was not naive enough to believe her two guards could hold five of them off. She wept as she ran, holding up her dress as she ran so it would not trip her or snag on any stray branches.

She had no idea how far she ran until she truly could not breathe. Taking a moment to rest against the trunk of a tree, she caught her breath. But it soon evaded her again as she was overcome by sobs. Her guards were surely dead now. And by the time anyone noticed she was lost the men who killed them would likely have caught up with her or she would be so lost she would never be found. Completely rattled by the idea of falling into those men’s clutches, she continued on, this time at a walking pace. Remembering that these wildlings would surely be skilled trackers, she did her best to disturb the flora as little as possible whilst taking an erratic path.

The guards who held the western gate of Winterfell looked in reluctant astonishment at the two bleeding guards before them. “Evander,” a sentry addressed his bleeding friend. “What happened?”

“We were ambushed by wildlings. Get Lord Stark and the bannermen, Lady Stark is still out there. We told her to run.”

A guard who overheard wasted no time, running to the Great Hall as fast as he could. He relayed the message to all the guards standing outside of their Lords’ meetings and they immediately parted to let the man through.

“Forgive me, my lords,” the guard announced his presence as he burst through the doors. “Wildlings attacked Lady Stark in the Godswood. Some of the wildlings were slain but she is still out there,” he breathed heavily.

Robb was the first to stand, doing it so fast his chair fell behind him. “Saddle my horse,” he ordered, already moving to exit the room.

Behind him, his father also stood. He looked at the still seated, mildly shocked men. “You want more titles and lands? The first man to find my daughter-in-law will have the moors.” Each man immediately stood, barking orders at the advisors who accompanied them to prepare for the search.

Eddard followed after his son who had already made it outside and was saddling his horse. “Son,” he called, catching the young man’s attention. “Just wait a moment so we may organize the search.”

Robb’s eyes flashed with worry at the prospect. “Father, just three harvests ago wildlings slaughtered the Farlands. I have to at least begin a preliminary search.”

Before the Lord of Winterfell could disagree, the commander of his guard ran up. “My lord, we have a dozen or so men prepared. Would you like us to begin a preliminary search?” he asked. Everyone in the North who had dealt with wildlings knew just how dire the situation was. They almost certainly knew the terrain better than the newest Lady of the North.

“Yes,” Robb immediately agreed, pulling himself onto his horse. His father nodded to the commander, and the initial search party saddled their horses and rode for the western gate. In their company was one of the guards who had initially gone to the Heart Tree. The other, too injured to accompany them, laid in the maester’s chambers having his wounds dressed.

Once the group made it to the Heart Tree, they found remnants of the attack. Two wildlings laid dead in the brush. “As far as I know there are three more, my lord,” the initial sentry informed Robb as he dismounted from his horse. “I had told your wife to run and she went to the opposite of the tree,” he said, pointing west. “They attacked us and we managed to fend the five of them off but once they realized she was getting away, three of them followed after her.”

Robb wanted to demand to know why they had not chased after his wife but he held his tongue. He just prayed for their sakes they were right in their judgement to return for reinforcements. “Everyone head west and spread out. She’ll know to have put as much distance between her and the wildlings as possible. And search for tracks, if she was concealing hers, the wildlings won’t have bothered.” A chorus of agreements rang out as each man took off.

The search had been on for hours. By now nearly every man within five miles of Winterfell had been out to search.

It was painful for Ned to watch his son slowly lose hope as the hours wore on and it became increasingly darker. Riding over to Robb, he spoke, “We will find her, son.”

Robb only nodded, holding his jaw clenched tightly. He was reluctant to admit that his wife of only two moons may already be gone. She was not of the north, she had no idea how to navigate the woods. And she would be perfectly defenseless running across any wildlings or creatures.

“I should have never let her even leave Winterfell,” he lamented.

“You cannot blame yourself,” Ned lectured. “Son, if you are going to become the Warden of the North, you cannot take every loss as personal.”

“I know, but this is my wife. The first person I am supposed to protect. If I cannot even find her in my own lands how can I lead them?”

“It will come with experience,” Ned assured. “And you did nothing wrong, you protected her as well as anyone could have.”

Before Robb could further degrade himself and argue, several calls rang out through the forests. Finally, they came near enough to be clear. “We found her!” echoed through the seemingly empty forest. Robb let out a shuddered cry of relief as he took off toward the voices, leaving his father behind.

As he rode he spotted more and more of his men, each time becoming more and more eager that they were the one who had found her. But each time they just ushered him on, pointing him further and further north. He continued on until he found several men gathered, lit only by their torches and the moonlight. They all turned to see their heir, immediately parting to reveal his wife sitting upon a fallen trunk.

“Robb!” she cried as she saw his horse approach. Her voice was broken with tears. As soon a he reached the clearing, he dismounted, immediately clambering to his wife. He had not even embraced her yet before he was throwing his fur cloak over her quivering shoulders, surely shivering from the chill that had by now reached her bones.

He immediately pulled her into his embrace, holding her tighter than he ever had before. He cared little for decorum as she buried her face into the warmth of his neck and sobbed. He himself wanted to cry in relief but held it in. When he finally pulled away only to look at her, he found several scratches on her face and mud adorning her dress. “What…” he began softly as he reached a hand up to her face.

“Just the scratch of the branches,” she assured, gently grasping his wrist in her icy hands as he continued to hold her face. “And I admit I did fall down a hill in my haste,” she explained sheepishly. Robb was sure that if she were not so incredibly cold he would feel the warmth of her blush through his gloves.

Finally Eddard Stark arrived, finding Robb holding his wife as if she were the most precious thing in the world. He let out a private sigh of relief seeing the girl relatively unharmed. Given his son’s level of depression just at the mere idea of his wife being lost to him, he was reluctant to even imagine what Robb would do had they found evidence of his wife’s death.

“It’s dark, the lady needs to warm up and rest. Let us go back to Winterfell. My lords,” he addressed the men who helped in the search, “you may spend the night in the guesthouses. Word of the day’s events have already been sent to your families.”

Robb stood from his crouched position, pulling his wife up with him as if he were afraid she’d slip between his fingers. “Come,” he bid, “you will ride with me.” She only nodded, her chattering teeth providing the answer she could not. She held Robb’s hand and with the other she clutched Robb’s cloak around her shoulders. He helped her onto his horse, moving her so she sat sidesaddle so he could sit behind her. With both arms around her to take the reins, she immediately took refuge in the warmth of his arms.

As they made the journey back through the woods, Robb wrestled with his thoughts. He wanted to scold her and tell her this is exactly why he did not want her out of Winterfell but the other part did not want to add to her distress. Similarly he wanted to ask about the wildlings but at the risk of being told something he was not ready to hear and stressing her out more, he elected to stay quiet.

But it was her who broke the silence. “I’m sorry for questioning your judgment and going. And for endangering your guards,” she apologized meekly, her voice heavy with guilt.

Robb immediately hushed her. “It’s no concern. I am just glad you’re okay,” he said with a kiss to the top of her head.

Once they reached Winterfell, Robb was quick to usher his wife past all the guards and lords, eager to get her into a warm building. As soon as the couple entered the Keep, she felt as if the biting cold was melting from her bones. Robb once again ushered her to their chambers.

His wife immediately went to the fireplace, standing in front of it trying to warm her hands. Behind her, Robb softly grasped her shoulders, resting his chin in the crook of her neck. “I sent ahead for a bath to be prepared to warm you.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, still feeling the harsh cold of her skin. He released her only enough so she could head to the washroom where she found the tub full of steaming water.

Robb, as gently and cautiously as possible, slowly stripped her of her clothes. Mere weeks ago she would have shied away from his gaze but his constant praise and affection had emboldened her to kiss him deeply even when she stood nude against his completely clothed frame. “Bathe with me,” she asked, stepping away to slip into the water.

Never one to decline his wife’s attentions, Robb quickly disrobed before sliding in the tub behind her. He wrapped his arms around around her, pulling her into his chest as they soaked in the warmth of the water and each other.

Masterlist

#x reader #robb x reader #robb stark x reader #robb #robb stark #house stark #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #got #got x reader #hotd #hotd x reader

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cdragons · 7 months ago

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"My Girl" - Robb Stark x Forest Fairy!Reader Drabble

A/N: This goes out to my girl, @dipperscavern! She needed a pick-me-up after the Tumblr app decided to be a bitch and delete her draft!!! But she still pressed on and wrote an incredible Robb Stark smut drabble! Pls go check it out!

"Please, Jon," Robb pleaded. "Just for today, and I'll make it up to you."

"Your mother will kill me if she finds out," Jon groaned. Normally, he'd be more than happy to cover for his brother, but what he was asking for was too much - even for him. "She hates me enough as it is."

"She doesn't hate you," Robb winced at the lie, but he was desperate. "Please, I have to see her."

"Why can't you see her tomorrow?" asked his half-brother. "The hunt is tomorrow anyway, you can just sneak away to see her then."

Robb shook his head. "You know how she feels about hunts. The moment the horn blows, she'll scatter far away, and I won't be able to see her for a week! A week - that's too long!"

Jon stared at his brother in complete disbelief at his dramatics. It was hard to believe that the first son of Ned Stark, Warden of the North, would be so far gone for a girl who lived so deep in the forest. A girl who lived a life completely shrouded herself in the mysterious beauty of the ancient woods.

A girl whose allure and grace were of a being so ethereal, she shouldn't exist.

Jon sighed. "Fine, I'll watch over Bran and Rickon by myself today - but if Father asks me, I'm telling him you skipped on your own!"

His brother whispered his shouts to avoid attracting attention from the rest of the keep, but Robb was already on his horse and raced out of the gates before he finished. He couldn't want to see you - his girl, his fairy, his mythic love.

Robb soon reached a part of the forest known to only very few in the North - his father included. The Starks were not only the Wardens of the North but the keeper of its ancient secrets.

Once he rode past the invisible barrier - accessible by those that carry the blood of House Stark - the wintery abode filled with white snow and blue ice melted away to a world of iridescent green trees and a kaleidoscope of colors eternally blooming. He finally saw the red leaves of the ancient weirwood tree whose twin linked your worlds together. Under the magnificent branches, he felt an explosion of love burst inside him at the sight of you.

You - his one and only love - sitting on the gnarled and overgrown roots of your tree. Your feet were bare as you only wore simple white linen dress that hugged your curves beautifully. He saw the flowers and small buds braided into your dark, wavy, umber-brown tresses.

"Fairy!"

Robb called out the nickname he had given you since he first met you in these woods as a child. He felt life flow inside him as he watched you turn around and saw the bright smile spread across your face. As soon as he was close enough, he slowed his steed to stop before jumping off and racing to the ancient tree where you and him would rendezvous in secret.

"Robb!" you called out. You waved in excitement before lightly jogging forward to meet him halfway.

Robb immediately took you in his arms and held you in a tight embrace. He pressed his nose into your locks and breathed in the lavender and wild grass notes. He felt time slow down until it seemed like the whole world stopped. Robb knew such a thing was impossible, but he thought many things were impossible before meeting you.

You slightly nudged him away until his face slightly hovered above yours. On your tiptoes, until they dug into the soft dirt beneath you, you firmly pressed your lips to his and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your mortal lover gladly reciprocated and tightened his arms around your waist until your chests were firmly pressed against each other.

When you finally parted for air, Robb lovingly stared at how beautifully flushed your cheeks became. He watched in a lust-ridden gaze at how your fingers swiftly undid the ties in front of your dress. He felt his breath stop as the garment pooled at your feet. Your body was completely bare and unclothed, and your skin was unmarred and looked silky-soft. You took his hand and held it at your breast - he could feel how fast and hard your heart was beating.

He wondered if you even knew how much of his breath you took away.

"I want to feel you, my love," you whispered. "Just us, under our tree, where only the witnesses of our love are our gods."

Robb choked back a groan. If he felt his cock growing hard at the sight of your skin, your words made his cock weep for your wet walls.

Gods, he loved you so much - how could he refuse?

Hurriedly, he took off his cloak and laid it down on the ground before removing his clothes with your help; Robb was just as bare and naked as you were. You gasped at the sight of him.

How could one man be so beautiful? How did such beauty become possible? How blessed were you to receive his love?

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, and your lips parted to grant his access to fully devour you. When it felt like you would collapse from the lack of air, his lips trailed down your neck. You heard him murmur against your skin.

"I love you."

He repeated it over and over again, and your breathing became heavier as he continued to trail down. On the tops of your breasts, he deeply breathed the addictive perfume of your skin and began to lay kisses within the valley. His gentle hands roamed and caressed your skin with so much tenderness as his fingers reached that soaked spot between your plush thighs. He slowly slid his fingers inside you, and he growled at how much your slick arousal coated his calloused fingers.

You, on the other hand, felt completely lost in the sea of pleasure Robb was drowning you in. He was gentle. He always was with you, but today...it felt like he was the one who would completely fall apart without you.

Despite you were in full knowledge that it was truly the opposite.

Because for all of his Northern roughness, he was a man who loved with all his heart. He was utterly loyal to those he loved and cherished—a sentiment he shared especially with you, and you could not have been more grateful.

"I want to be here with you," he softly mumbled. "I could never want for anything else if I lived the rest of my life here, with you and our children. You, my pretty fairy, as the mother of my children, and me, your loyal wolf, forever protecting you."

He felt your core clench at his words as hot pleasure shot up your spine. It was a dream the two of you often shared - a life without obligations or duty, no fussy mothers or pushy fathers to stand in your way, and no empty and bleak futures looming over you. A life where it was just the two of you, riding through your forest with your horses, the woods filled with the laughter of your children. And when the day ended, the night would be filled with endless pleasure as your thoughts would only be full of him and his full of you.

You tenderly stroked the curls from his face as you felt the dam holding your pleasure slowly breaking.

Your chest was heaving. "It will, my sweet wolf," you promised. "Ours is a love no one can take away—the gods have shown it to me. After all, our gods are the ones who brought us together in the first place."

It was not long until you completely fell apart and gushed over his fingers. Your back arched as you coated your inner thighs and his fingers with your slick. Robb huskily chuckled as he pressed kisses down your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. Your fingers intertwine with his lovely, auburn curls in an attempt to anchor yourself to this material plane.

"Lie down," he softly ordered. "I won't take you against the harsh bark of a tree."

"Oh, but on your cloak in the dirt is an acceptable alternative?" you teased despite lowering against the soft, dark furs of your lover's fine cloak.

He smirks at your mirth as he crawls toward you. His perfect form hovering over you as if you were prey and he was about to devour you whole.

"Of course," he confirmed. "After all, I plan to take you on it until the only word you know how to say is my name, and the furs soak up all of your cum until it's all I can smell on it until the end of time."

Biting your bottom lip in anticipation, you could hardly wait for him to make good on his promise.

Robb aligns his cock at your entrance, its head red and its tip leaking with precum, as he slowly pushes inside you as wraps his hand in yours. He was only halfway inside you before he fully pushed himself in and completely bottomed out.

You cried as white, hot pleasure shot up your spine and flooded every nerve in your body. You felt so full and could hardly wrap your head around the fact that you and Robb's bodies were joined together as one.

"Fuckin'- fuck," he gasps out. "How is it you're so tight every time I take you?"

"Because I'm yours, Robb," you answered breathlessly. "My body was made for you as yours was made for me. Such pleasures could only exist between us - us and no one else."

Feeling the pool of pleasure in his stomach overflowing at your words, Robb begins to slowly thrust - in and out - until he reaches a steady rhythm that makes you senselessly babble as you feel your body becoming dull to everything but Robb. You felt every slow drag of his hips, every lingering trail of his touch, every hot breath on your skin, and you wondered how one man could make you feel so good.

He hits that spot inside you—the one that makes you see stars that only he could reach. Your eyes roll back, and you beg him to kiss you. A wish he complies without question—because what is his purpose if not to grant your every wish in his power?

It isn't long until he feels your walls clenching around his cock, and he can feel his control quickly slipping.

"Fairy, my fairy," he pleads against your lips. "'m close, 'm cumming."

"In-inside, my love," you beg. "I want you to spill your seed inside me. Let it take root in my womb, and our child grow."

Your grip on his hand tightens as your love's thrusts become quicker and sloppy, and he hits that spot inside you even more harshly and roughly. You scream as your walls clamp down on his member as your arousal spills out and coats his cock. He quickly follows after you, pushing himself as deep as he can to fill your womb with his seed as a groan resonates deep within his chest.

Despite the exhaustion flooding his muscles, Robb does not collapse atop you or pull out. Instead, he presses a soft kiss on your sweaty temple and lies by your side. He holds you close and breathily chuckles at how close to sleep you look in his arms. He places a small peck on your nose and smiles at how it scrunches so adorably.

"Rest now, my love. I'll be here when you wake."

You let out a loud yawn. "Good...believe it or not, this isn't what I had planned for us."

"Oh? And what were we supposed to do before you...distracted me?"

Robb raises his brow before smirking at the memory of how you initiated seducing him. You swatted his arm.

"My mare successfully gave birth to a foal. He's so beautiful - a red and white coat. I already love him."

"Have you named him?"

"Yes, Kodak."

Robb wanted to ask why you decided to name him that of all things, but you were burrowed in his chest - already in a deep sleep. With a content smile, he followed suit and met you in a dream. A beautiful dream where it was just you, him, your children, and 'Kodak.' All of you laughing and smiling in your beloved woods.

Underneath the weirwood tree, you and he met all those years ago - when you were still a sprite, and he was still a boy. Underneath the weirwood where Robb saw you for the first time, and he swore to the Old Gods and New that he would love only you for the rest of his life.

A promise he swore then, a promise he still keeps, and a promise that remains true until his last breath.

@dipperscavern, if you've died from an overload of fluff and love delulu fantasies...then I've done my job

#robb stark x reader #robb stark smut #robb stark imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones #robb stark #forest fairy #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf

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axelsagewrites · 1 year ago

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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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daniellewritesfr · 1 year ago

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𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰

Chapter two

Paring: Robb Stark x f!Reader

Summary: After avoiding Robb for a few days you decide taking a short ride through the woods wouldn't hurt, but you find yourself once again in an unexpected encounter with The King himself.

Warnings: Plot building lots of plot building

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: I forgot to mention this is kinda a slow burn (sort of not really) anyway find series master list here.

It had been days since the last time Robb even caught a glimpse of you, he found himself frequently thinking about the conversation you two shared any chance he got. He understood he had more important things to focus on besides a woman he barely knew, for gods sake he was fighting a war yet, you had his mind running in circles.

He was lost in thought when he was interrupted by Ser Brynden clearing his throat, Robb looked up from the map in front of him, staring at the knight waiting for him to speak, when he doesn't he turns to his mother who is watching him intently Catelyn motions her head down towards the table he quickly understands her look turning his focus back to the task at hand sliding a wooden figure across the map signifying where the Lannisters will strike next. The talk of battle plans and strategies rang throughout the large tent for hours before finally Ser Brynden excused himself biding both him and his mother goodnight.

Catelyn stayed her eyes fixed on her son. “You’re distracted.”

Robb quickly lifts his head looking at his mother. Was he truly that transparent?

“I'm not.” he states looking back down at the map faking his focus.

Catelyn moves to stand next to him “don’t lie.” Her tone shifted forcing Robb to look at her.

Her eyes were bearing into his in hope he’d reveal his troubles but he didn't. He just stared at her, slightly praying she wouldn’t ask anymore questions.

Catelyn tilts her head looking at her son “we can not afford distractions.” She says, reaching her hand up briefly placing it on his arm before pulling away. He nods, “No, we can not.” His voice was quiet, his hand fidgeting with the pommel of his sword.

His prayers were answered when she sighed “get some rest, gods know you'll need it” she says looking at him with a sympathetic smile as she left.

Robb watches his mother leave, before turning around running a hand over his face with a groan, he sits down in a chair next to the table looking up at the ceiling of the tent. He needed to get a grip.

You woke in the early morning, the sun not yet visible. The thin cloth walls of the tent doing very little to keep the cold at bay. You had been informed yesterday that you and your remaining men would be moving camps to one between Riverrun and Oldstones and that you were to begin preparing as soon as possible. You knew your men were in no condition to travel anyone with eyes could see that. Yet, an order is an order.

You don't move staying as you were for a while staring at the ceiling of your tent, till you hear the muffled voices of tired men as the rest of camp begins to wake, you groan managing to drag yourself out from under the warmth of fur blankets and throw on your clothes and some light armor you then secure your belt and pick up your sword and dagger sheathing them both before leaving the tent grabbing your cloak on the way out pulling it over yourself while walking.

The sun was finally beginning to rise as you make your way to a tree which you’d secured your horse to for safe keeping, a beautiful Friesian horse stands tall pawing at the ground with one hoof as you walk up to him extending your hand running it along the side of his face, you lean close resting your forehead on his cheek for a moment, deciding a small ride wouldn’t hurt seeing that it was still early and it would be hours before the men were ready to move.

You pull away grabbing the blanket and saddle that rested against the tree, gently draping the blanket across his back, then taking the saddle and hosting it on after. You secure the reins pulling yourself up on to him, giving him a pat on the side of his neck before bounding off into the woods.

The cold morning air rushed past your face, the trees all but a blur as you pass them. You ride for a while before slowing to a halt, looking up you stare at the huge canopy of trees watching the branches sway in the wind, their leaves beginning to change from the green of summer to vibrant shades of red and orange, leaving a sea of fire throughout the forest floor. You bring your horse to a slow walk admiring the world around you when the faint sound of rushing water fills your ears bringing a smile to your face, you drive the Friesian to a gallop heading in the direction of the noise, as you near closer a sharp breeze whisks through the air causing you to pull the hood of your cloak up and over your head sheltering your face from the cold.

It's not long before you find yourself face to face with a large river, the water rushing and hitting rocks in its path. Dismounting your horse, and securing him to a nearby tree you walk to the bank crouching down on one knee dipping a hand into the icy river you pull your hood down exposing your face. Staring at your reflection in the rippling water the bruise on your temple was beginning to fade from a violent purple to a brownish green, the cut itself self nothing more than a scab. Although it would scar. You take a deep breath, lowering both hands in the river cupping them, letting the water collect in your palms before splashing some on your face, hoping it would clear the lingering sleep.

“It can be quite dangerous for a lady out here all alone”

The voice made you jump almost falling head first into the water, luckily you catch yourself quickly standing and turning around to face the voice, you draw your sword half out of its sheath before you realize who it is, the one and only Robb Stark.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, letting your sword fall back into place, before looking at him.

He's seated atop a stocky brown horse, a heavy fur lined cloak wrapped around his broad shoulders, gloved hands resting on the reins in front of him with a grin plastered across his face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you” He says, you could tell he was amused with your reaction based on the small laugh that fallowed the words causing you to look down as you feel a slight tinge of embarrassment you hoped to hide.

Robb leans back slightly before dismounting the horse holding the reins in his hand leading it to a nearby tree close to where you’d left yours.

“You’re up early” He says while securing the reins to the tree, turning his head to look over his shoulder flashing you a small smile.

“As are you.” You quip walking past him with your hands clasped behind your back glancing at him as you make your way to your horse. His eyes were glued on you as you passed.

“Seems we both prefer mornings.” You hum in response running your hand along the neck of your horse adjusting the reins before turning to face him. His eyes rake over you before settling on your face sending a rush of nerves flooding through you causing your hand to fidget with the hilt of a dagger attached at the front of your waist, that seemed to catch his attention his eyes fall from your face to your hands, he motions his head towards the dagger.

“May I?” He asks, taking a step closer leaves crunching underneath his boots.

You nod, removing the dagger from its sheath twirling it in your hand before passing it to him. The silver blade is not more than nine inches complete with a brown handle littered with intricate designs. He examines it closely tilting the knife watching as it catches glints of light, he softly runs his fingers along the blades edge careful not to cut himself.

“It’s a beautiful blade.” He pauses for a moment looking up from the dagger to meet your eyes “Valyrian steel?” You nod.

“It was a gift from my father.” Your voice was flat not a tinge of emotion present.

In fact it was the only gift you’d ever received from him. It was one of the rare nights when he wasn’t in a foul mood. He had sat you down drunk as ever rambling on about great houses and their Valyrian weapons, when suddenly he revealed the dagger quickly shoving it into your hands, motioning at it telling you “go on look at it.” Carefully you had unsheathed it, releasing the blade admiring its beauty just as Robb. That was one of the few seemingly "decent" memories you had with your father if you could call them that.

The shift in your voice didn't go unnoticed by Robb, and for a moment he thought to ask you about it, but ultimately decided not to. So instead he nodded looking the dagger over once more then handing it back to you hilt first, you take it sliding it back into its sheath.

He couldn't help but stare, the dim morning light reflecting off the side of your face making you seem unreal. He seemed to be caught in a trance.

You cleared your throat snapping him out of the daze.

"I-" He paused for a moment collecting himself "I'm sure you were informed of our plans."

"If you mean me and my mens departure, then yes I was" You look at the sky behind him, the sun now well above the horizon filling the forest with light. "And by the looks of it I should take my leave."

Robb had insisted you let him accompany you on the way back, so here you were, the morning sun beaming down as the two of you ride into camp you were aware of the eyes lingering on your backs but you pay no mind. You both slow your horses to a stepping pace leisurely making your way through the sea of rushing soldiers. When you arrive in front of Robb's tent he dismounts his horse letting a young squire take the reins, Robb tips his head as a ‘thank you’ while the boy leads him away.

He turns his attention back to you. “M’lady.” He says, giving you a half smile.

“Your grace.” You bid him farewell, bowing your head returning the smile before bringing your horse to a trot heading off to prepare your men for travel.

Robb watched you leave, shaking his head as he turned walking through the opening of the large tent.

#robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark x y/n #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #ned stark #jon snow #house stark #jon snow x reader #fluff #robb stark smut #robb stark x you #jon snow smut #got #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon

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xxnymeriatargaryenxx · 2 months ago

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oh to be manhandled and pounded roughly by a stark 🥰🥰🥰🥰

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claymoresword · 3 months ago

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We Bleed The Same | Part: 1

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader 🐺

Summary: On the road from Winterfell to King's Landing, Cersei and y/n find themselves reconciling with both old and new feelings as fate seems determined to tear them apart.

Sequel to 'Where's My Love'.

Wordcount: 4k

Pairing: Cersei x Reader

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, mentions of sexual violence & domestic abuse, breeding kink, blowjob/deep throating, unprotected sex, dubious consent, co-dependency, y/n & cersei are soulmates argue with the wall

Note: This was actually a lot of fun, I already can't wait to put out the second part! Anyway, hope you enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it (smut after asterisks)

You have been on the road for what feels like an eternity, the children are growing restless, and so are you, but King's Landing is still weeks away. Your next destination being Castle Darry, by order of the king.

Robert Baratheon is rather fond of his pit stops, and you have half a mind to strangle him for that.

What is meant to be a few weeks on the road has turned into months of long-winded journey.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat for the hundredth time, leaning back against the cushions.

You are certainly looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed, whenever that might be.

Just as you start to grow somewhat comfortable, the litter jerks to an abrupt halt, forcing you to lean forward.

Ned places a firm arm in front of his girls to prevent them from falling forward the same way you had.

“Why have we stopped?” You ask, exasperated. Subsequently, pulling aside the curtain next to you to look out the window, only to be greeted with darkness.

You hadn't realized it was already nightfall.

As you squint, you only manage to make out an open field– the scenery does look beautiful, but this isn't the castle.

“Maybe the king needed a piss again.” Arya remarks, trying her best to look over your shoulder.

You narrow your gaze at your niece, and her inability to keep her thoughts to herself. Although there is full possibility that the girl was correct.

The king had delayed the possession half a dozen times today to relieve himself.

“No..” Sansa utters. “He's being sick.” She observes, and it is swiftly followed by the sound of Robert dry heaving.

You grimace at the noise, no longer concealing your annoyance.

Robert has stopped the journey half a dozen times to do that as well.

“Perhaps if he didn't drink so much..” You start, although your brother interjects before you can say anything else.

“Be quiet, the lot of you.” Ned scolds, and you have to bite back a retort as you petulantly glance out through the curtains again.

Eventually, the litter resumes movement, and you rest your back once more, allowing your mind to wander.

Cersei is no doubt feeling as miserable as you are, if not more.

Had you been given leave to ride with her, perhaps this journey would not be half as excruciating.

You missed her, you crave to hear her voice, to touch her, kiss her.

If you fail to reach Castle Darry by tonight, you aim to find a way inside the queen's litter. Robert is certain to be too drunk to notice anyway.

The journey continues on for several more hours, the repetitive movement of the carriage begins to lull you, you could only fight it for so long before a deep and dreamless slumber manages to take over.

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

“Y/n.” You stir to Ned's voice, his hand on your shoulder is like a jolt to your system; you sit up abruptly.

As you come to your senses, you notice that the litter has stopped, Arya and Sansa are no longer beside you.

“We're moving into the castle, I need your help carrying in the food crates.” Ned explains, pulling open the curtains next to you.

“What hour is it?” You ask groggily, still trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“I don't know.” Ned responds truthfully. “but I reckon we'll see first light soon.” He finishes, yet you fail to move.

“Come on, you've been asleep for hours.” Your brother insists, he grabs ahold of your hand, forcibly hoisting you up.

As he tugs on your arm, you stumble out of the litter, leaning your weight on Ned as you attempt to find your footing.

You shove him away after you do, scowling at your brother, and his very successful attempt at manhandling you.

“When we get back on the road I am riding on horseback. I'm sick of sitting in that damned thing.” You grumble, gesturing to the carriage behind you before smoothing out your cloak and running your fingers through your hair.

“As you wish, but I refuse to listen to you whine about saddle sores.” Ned says, approaching the stack of crates.

“I am a woman grown, I do not whine.” You contend defensively.

Ned does not heed your remark, nodding towards the large crate impatiently, he braces his hands on the underside of it. “Come, help me.”

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

Castle Darry sits atop of a hill in the Riverlands, the climb was steep enough to knock the wind out of you.

By the time you enter through its doors, your chest is heaving. “Seven hells–” You mutter under your breath, although you are quickly distracted by the interior of the palace.

Darry had decently high ceilings, the castle is larger on the inside as it appeared on the outside. Somehow modest and grand all at once.

The stairs, large and winding, are set at the center of the main hall leading up to the bedchambers.

Robert picked a decent place this time around, you'll give him that much.

You stroll past the stairs towards the castle's great hall, observing as Ned approaches the table in the far right, next to a window that overlooks a view of the river.

You spot your nieces and nephews enjoying an early breakfast. Next to them are Cersei's youngest children, Myrcella and Tommen.

Sansa and Myrcella appear caught up in conversation, whilst Arya and Tommen are on their knees, busy feeding Nymeria pieces of charred meat.

Joffrey is nowhere to be seen. This doesn't surprise anyone, in truth. The prince along with his sworn guard often wander about on their own. The boy was always eager to find trouble where he can, that much is evident.

You begin scanning the rest of the hall, you notice the kingsguard along with the queen's men, but no sight of the king or queen themselves.

You can't help the disappointment that settles in your belly, you were hoping to get at least a glimpse of Cersei before heading to bed.

“Where is the queen?” You ask as you take a seat next to Robb and his half-brother, Jon.

You reach for the flagon of spiced wine, pouring it into a cup as you await a response.

Robb merely shrugs as he stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth, and your other nephew decides to opt for a smart answer.

“With the king, I presume?” Jon remarks, insolent and juvenile.

You quickly wipe the smirk off his face by placing a firm smack against the back of his head.

Jon yelps, reaching up to rub the same spot you had just struck him. “What was that for?”

“I meant, which room is she in?” You rephrase, unamused before lifting the rim of your cup to your lips, taking a large drink.

A burst of nutmeg and cinnamon coats your tongue, when accompanied with the warm, bitter taste of wine, it manages to soothe you.

“I saw her enter the one upstairs, at the end of the hall.” Sansa chimes in, making sure to swallow her food first before addressing you.

You turn your attention towards your niece, a look of gratitude paints your features. “Thank you, Sansa.”

“Hopeless, the both of you.” You remark, reaching out to mess up Robb's head of auburn hair.

You relished the way both boys scowled at you as you left the dining area.

You trudge up the steep stairs leading to the bedchambers. Glancing at the row of rooms to your left, and then to your right.

You mentally curse yourself for failing to clarify with Sansa exactly which room the queen had taken as her own.

After a moment of deliberating, you decide to take a risk, approaching the room on the far left, one hidden behind a large pillar.

You knock twice before resting your hand on the pommel of your sword.

A beat passes and no one answers, though just as you move to walk away, the door opens, and a golden-haired beauty emerges from the dark room.

Your smile happens involuntarily as you pale greys catch Cersei's emerald gaze. Though the queen doesn't reciprocate, instead she pulls you in for a sudden hug.

After a fleeting moment of confusion, you embrace her in return. Your hand rests on the small of her back, the other gently threads through her golden curls.

As your gaze wanders, it is only then you notice a tear in her robe. The silk material fails to cover the bruising on Cersei's arm; the sight makes you stiffen.

The queen fails to speak, so you decide to break the silence first.

“Is everything alright?” You ask, expecting the answer, but Cersei does not grace you with a verbal reply, merely hugging you tighter.

“Do you want me to stay here tonight?” You whisper instead, your lips brush against the shell of the other woman's ear.

Cersei remains quiet for a while, as though considering your request. She pulls back slightly to look at you, her gaze softens as she traces your features with her thumb.

“You can't, Robert's in my bed.” She finally says, and your brows furrow at the prospect.

That old brute laid his hands on her again.

You open your mouth to protest, but as if expecting it, Cersei places her hand over your mouth, stopping you. “Don't– do not say anything, just kiss me.”

With that, the queen leans in, capturing your mouth with her own. The kiss is desperate, and anguished. Cersei moans softly into your mouth as your tongues make contact.

She tastes like lemon and arbor red, and you are content to feel her like this, for all eternity, although the way your lungs burn for air proves your desire to be an impossible one to uphold.

You break away first, tilting your head to kiss her neck. Cersei gasps at the sensation, her fingers clenched tightly around your hair as your mouth finds the base of her jaw.

“I want–” The queen starts, her voice trembling ever so slightly as your mouth continues to move along her tender flesh.

Eventually, Cersei finds the strength to tug on your hair, guiding your face to her own.

“I want to name you my sworn protector, when we get to King's Landing.” The older woman says suddenly. “I will declare it to the council myself.” Cersei adds, and she simply rakes her fingers through your hair at your lack of response.

“Then you'll have reason to be in my quarters.. in my company.. elsewise people will talk.” She explains, and finally, you nod.

The queen's sworn protector. Like you intended to be all those years ago, before things went wrong between the two of you.

“As you wish.. I am your servant.” You conclude, and for the first time tonight a smile covers Cersei's enchanting features.

Striking, delicate and so damned breathtaking.

“Good.” She says, pulling you in for another lingering kiss.

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

The following week at Darry had been at best, quiet and uneventful. You spent most of your days with your brother and his children and nights waiting for everyone to fall asleep just so you could visit the queen.

Although, you did not have the privilege of seeing her last night. After a long day of hunting with Ned and Robert, you don't recall how you got back to the castle, only that you had awoken this morning with a pounding head.

Not exactly fond of hunting, you did so mainly out of courtesy– as to not give the king cause to be upset.

Robert is as unpleasant on a hunt as he is on any other day, if not more.

Naturally, you drank to dull the ache his company caused, as well as pass the time.

In truth, all you wanted to do is spend your days and nights in bed with Cersei. You had managed to steal moments here and there, but nothing enough to satiate your need for her.

All the more reason to look forward to King's Landing. Once you get to the city you'll be allowed to spend time in the queen's bedchambers under the guise of guarding her from harm.

Then, you'll finally be allowed to do whatever you desire with each other without the danger of being seen.

Tonight, in a welcomed change of pace, you find yourself in the Godswood with Ser Jory Cassel, dull blades in hand.

He is a capable sparring partner, however predictable he might be.

You remind yourself once more that he is a knight, he fights clean like most of them.

Most knights are predictable.

“I cannot be out here for much longer, M'lady. Lord Eddard has tasked me to watch over his daughters tonight.” Ser Jory says as he resumes his stance, lifting his blade.

You shrug, doing the same.

“I understand, Ser. I only mean to fight you until I grow bored.. which shouldn't take long at all.” You jest, and it manages to hit a nerve, as the knight takes a large swing at you.

You deflect the blow before swiftly maneuvering your body away with one foot, causing the knight to stumble forward.

Ser Jory recovers quickly, this time you strike first, and your dull blades kiss with a large clash.

You take the opportunity to get out of the position by flicking your wrist, as a result your sword is released from the blade lock. You twist the blade in your hand once before pointing it at the knight's neck.

The quickest win yet.

Ser Jory sighs, lifting his arms in surrender. “I yield.”

You lower your blade with a grin. Though the man yields quickly, far too easily.

Suddenly, you find yourself hoping the knight isn't letting you win on purpose, or perhaps he is just eager to get inside and resume his post.

Either way, you are not yet satisfied.

As you are just about to request for another round, voices in the distance steal your attention.

You glance over to see men from the kingsguard standing under the Weirwood, gossiping– albeit not very discreetly.

“They were arguing again, the king and queen..”

Ser Jory has since set aside his sparring blade. He walks over to a wooden bench in the corner of the Godswood to fetch his sword belt, fastening it onto his person.

“See you inside, m'lady.” Jory announces as he rushes back into the castle. Although you hardly hear him at all as you inch closer to the pair of knights standing under the Weirwood tree.

You remain partially hidden by the darkness as you listen to their conversation whilst pretending to focus your attention elsewhere.

“I heard she broke his nose.” The kingsguard says.

“He broke hers more like. That's why she sent her handmaids to fetch her a cold compress.” The other knight chimes in, and his words send an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

You turn away, thoughtlessly discarding the practice blade you were holding before grabbing your own sword.

You slip past the main doors of the castle before sprinting up the stairs. You pushed past the pair of guards at the foot of it as they took a moment too long to step aside.

As you reach Cersei's bedchambers you notice that her door is left ajar. You push it open, stepping inside in a panic frenzy, only to nearly trip over Robert's large frame.

The king lays motionless by the door, on a beautifully crafted Myrish carpet. His large belly spilling out of his tunic.

A compelling sight.

You look up to find Cersei standing by the window, a goblet of wine in hand. She smiles as your eyes meet.

Her hair is unkempt, her robe falling off one shoulder, but there is no blood anywhere on her, in fact she appears entirely unharmed.

You turn to shut the door, wincing as it accidentally slams into place. Yet, Robert remains on the floor, unfazed.

“Is he dead?” You quip, circling the king's motionless body and it earns a bitter chuckle from Cersei.

“No, just passed out from drinking too much, I'm afraid.” The queen responds, her own voice slurred.

The queen is drunk.

“Pity.” You remark, as a large noise erupts from the king. The boisterous and grating snore continues every time he breathes.

You tilt your head at the sight of him, Robert Baratheon is a beast, and the worst kind.

You sigh at the thought before turning around, only to find Cersei standing right behind you.

She reaches up instinctively, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck.

“Did he hurt you?” You ask softly, your own hands finding her waist.

Your jaw tenses as Cersei nodded in response.

A blind rage overcomes you then, the sound of Robert snoring agitates you beyond belief, fueling your resentment.

“I could kill him.” You mutter through gritted teeth, and Cersei merely re-focuses her gaze on you, an amused smile playing on her lips.

“You are so adorable.” She whispers, almost mockingly, her lips then meet your neck.

The feeling of her kisses upon your skin slowly causes your anger to dissipate, you find yourself conflicted.

“Cersei–” You attempt, but the queen's mouth against the shell of your ear causes your words to die in your throat.

“Take me to bed..” She says, the scent of lavender in her hair invades your senses, and you find it nearly impossible to think. You are urged to do as she asks, but logic and reason forces you to consider otherwise.

“What?” You ask, and you feel Cersei's teeth graze your ear, she bites your earlobe before pulling back slightly to look at you.

“I want you to fuck me– you do it so well.” She pleads, in a tone that nearly makes your knees buckle.

Cersei runs her fingers through your hair, uninterested in hearing you protest any further.

She escapes your embrace, though not letting go of your hand as she steps over Robert.

The king continues to snore loudly, you are beginning to think the man will not wake for anything at all. He might as well be dead.

“Come.” Cersei coaxes sweetly, tugging on your arm.

You let her guide you without a moment's thought, stepping over the king to follow the queen to her bed.

Cersei lets go of your hand to unlace her robe, she shrugs it off, allowing it to fall on the floor, leaving her as naked as her nameday.

The queen watches you disapprovingly as you stand frozen in place. You observed the way her hips swayed languidly as she approached you.

She reaches south to unfasten your sword belt, gripping your blade by its scabbard before placing it on the floor.

“You are not naked enough.” Cersei points out, with a slight pout. The way she continues to slur her words causes your heart to constrict in your chest.

Even like this, she is breathtaking.

Beautiful.. and so utterly twisted.

You are so in love with her.

Cersei sets her bottom lip in between her teeth with palpable excitement as you obliged her. Unclasping your dark grey doublet, tossing it aside before lifting your tunic over your head.

The queen decides to assist you with your bottom half. Brazenly palming your cock through your breeches, her shoulder slumps in disappointment, unsatisfied with the current flaccid state of your shaft.

“What's wrong?” Cersei asks, her hands move up your body to cup your breast before resting on the nape of your neck once more.

You are unsure of how to respond, you remain overtly aware of the fact that Cersei's husband remained asleep only a few feet away.

You turn to glance at the man but the queen is quick to force your head in place. “Don't look at him.” She scolds before leaning in to capture your lips with her own for a long kiss.

As you aim to slip your tongue inside of her mouth, Cersei pulls away with a demand. “Take off your breeches, come here.”

You observed as Cersei climbed onto the bed, settling on her knees at the edge of it.

The sight admittedly manages to excite you; you feel your cock begin to stir.

You remove your breeches in haste, ridding them heedlessly as you approach the golden haired woman.

Now you stand in front of the bed and Cersei remains in a kneeling position on the edge as she grips the base of your semi-erect shaft. Bringing it up to her lips, she kisses the tip, all while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck–” You groan aloud as Cersei finally takes you into her mouth, her tongue flat against your cock as she begins to suck.

You let out an unsteady breath, reaching down to grip a fistful of her hair, wary of not grabbing too tightly as you allowed Cersei to set her own pace.

The queen continues bobbing her head, taking your cock inside of her mouth in its entirety.

You feel her breathe out through her nose as she takes you in even deeper, pulling another groan from you as the tip of your shaft meets her throat.

You gasp as Cersei keeps going, you notice as tears begin to well up in her eyes before they flutter shut as she takes you further in.

The feeling of her swallowing around your cock makes you see stars, and it nearly causes you to finish right then and there.

“Gods above, Cersei–” You curse incoherently.

The queen chokes on your girth before leaning back to let your cock lay flat against her tongue once more.

She continues to suck dutifully, and you grunt, this time gripping her hair harshly to pull her head back.

You needed to take her, now.

“Enough, come here.” You state, and Cersei lets your cock fall out of her mouth.

She makes a noise of surprise as you harshly met her lips. Cersei kisses you passionately in return, pulling you down on top of her.

As the queen parted her legs for you, you don't give her much warning before reaching in between both of your bodies.

You line the tip of your shaft up to her entrance, and with one swift thrust, you enter her completely, filling Cersei to the hilt.

The older woman lets out a guttural noise at the sensation, followed shortly after by a whimper.

Cersei's nails dig into your back as her entire body trembles uncontrollably.

You turn to check if the king had perhaps awoken at the sound, but again, Cersei does not give you the chance, pulling you in for another kiss.

You decide not to heed caution any longer, you begin moving your hips, steadily increasing the pace.

If the king wakes, you will kill him.

Cersei mewls into your mouth as your cock hits the perfect spot within her, again and again.

Soon, you brace your hands against the bedding on either side of her head as you begin to rut into her wildly.

Cersei lets out a series of broken gasps and moans, followed by a louder whine when she suddenly reaches her peak around your cock.

You observed as the queen writhed underneath you with every thrust afterwards, she wraps her arms around your back weakly, pulling you in even closer.

You steal at the opportunity to take Cersei’s breasts into your mouth. Licking and sucking at them greedily.

She gasps at the feeling, and you soon earn another whine as you maintain your slow thrusts.

“Please..” The queen pleads, and the sound of her desperation alone makes you drunk.

“Fill me with your seed,” Cersei utters against your ear, her legs wrapped around your waist as though not allowing you the opportunity to disobey her.

“I want to feel it quicken inside me. I want to bear your children, your heirs. Only yours.” She continues, deliberately clenching her walls around your girth.

That does it.

Your release comes just as sudden, it is violent and unyielding.

Before you can even think of pulling out, your seed spills out in ropes, thick and warm, filling Cersei's womb, just as she wanted.

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

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proseandpretrichor · 2 months ago

Text

Fateful Love; Sandor Clegane x Reader

Summary: Sandor had convinced himself is affections were only one sided, but as fate continued to entertwine the two of you maybe he would be proved wrong

Warnings: Smut! P in V, Oral female recieving. 18+

Never did you think you would be here right now. But when Caitlyn Stark took the time away from Bran’s bedside to beg you to go with Ned Stark, to help him look after her only daughters, to protect them. How were you supposed to refuse that?

So here you were sitting on a horse, in the cold and sleet trailing behind the sniveling prince, Joffrey, who rode behind Lord Stark and the King.

That is when you noticed him, Sandor Clegane, or the Hound as you quickly realized he was more frequently called. He was riding behind you, but close. Yet you did not hear a peep from the man, which struck you in awe since it was no secret the sheer size of him. Three days you had ridden in the same position along the procession and you wracked my brain for a single moment in which you heard his voice and couldn’t recall one time. This struck a cord of embarrassment through you causing you to shift in your seat towards him Seeing you in his peripheral he turned his gaze upon you and raised one of his thick eyebrows in question. You simply graced him with a small smile and dipped your head quickly as a sign of recognition of his presence.

This was the first time you rendered the gigantic man speechless, but it was not the last.

Over the coming days, the King’s company grew to be comfortable around the Stark’s, and thus many of the King’s court grew fond of you. Quickly it became apparent to all who stayed in your presence even for a few moments, why you were so beloved by the Stark family.

You had the innate ability to meet any and every individual where they stood. Ned Stark could be found walking with you, discussing the various policies that had now become his responsibility as the newly appointed hand. He would frequently ask for your thoughts on such matters, or how to inflict new motions without ruffling a large amount of feathers-it was no secret how poorly the King and his advisors dealt with such diplomacy. You would always give fair and wise counsel, which never seemed to surprise the Stark lord, but awed those who overheard including Sandor. You were always respectful and cautious with your words so that if you showed disagreement even the most arrogant, stubborn men saw your reason.

Therefore, you often sat with the King and the Lord during meals. Mostly because the King found you beautiful, a refreshing face. That could also be apparent to all. Sandor secretly agreed, he appreciated the notion that you never refused food or drink when it was offered to you, thus you had many curves, and while he couldn’t see all of your skin, Sandor had no doubt it would be soft and pillowy to the touch. He shamefully thought of that simple fact too often when the cold, mushy, and wet ground kept him awake in the night.

Eager to please his father, what once began as an obligation to entertain your presence, bloomed into genuine delight in your presence when Joffrey saw you. Which also in turn delighted Sandor, who thus could freely gaze upon you more throughout those days traveling. When Joffrey came to collect Sansa, you often would find yourself chaperoning the pair with Sandor.

You would walk at least ten paces behind the two young teens, paying mind to giving their conversations the privacy you thought they deserved.

One day, during such an outing, Joffrey stopped and turned to you. “Lady Sansa and I were in discussion about our dream lives. I have heard the Lady’s and shared mine, but I wished to know your’s, Lady Y/N.”

“I will oblige in your discussion, my prince. Thank you for the thought of including me.” With that you turned and paused brows creased in deep thought. “I think I would like to live nowhere, as in completely isolated from anyone… maybe in the forest next to a meadow, or in a field next to some stream, lake, or river.” You then nodded very pleased with your decision. “Yes, my prince, that is what I desire.”

“But Y/N...” Sansa exclaimed. “What of a husband or a family? Surely you have entertained such a thing!”

“Yes, I will say I have.” Sansa rushed towards you, Joffrey close behind. She clasped onto your hand and drugged you to sit on a fallen tree with Joffrey placing himself on the other side of you. Sandor decided to lean against a nearby tree a little ways away, head turned to show his disinterest, but ear pointed to your figure. All waited in bated breath for your next words.

“I suppose if I was so lucky,” you began a far away look beginning to gloss over your gaze, “I would like a big and strong husband, seeing as I am not a dainty woman myself.” You paused to pat your stomach earning laughs from the children. “However I would want to fatten him up a little, not enough to weaken his strength, but to just soften him up a little. That would be a nice cuddle, don’t you think” Nudging Sansa, who began blushing profusely. You continued, “And since we shall live in such a place he would need to find a way to work the land, so we may grow the food we eat, and to chop down wood for our modest cottage and firewood for the winter. Maybe we would come to collect a few animals, such as a goat, sheep, pig, chickens, maybe a dog so that we may rarely go into town except for the necessities. Then I would drag him to get such things as books, rarer groceries, and garments I cannot make.”

“What of children?” Joffrey urged on. “Do you want children, Lady Y/N?”

“Yes, sweet prince, I am fond of the idea. And of course if and however many my husband should wish for I will do my best to make it a reality. I have always been fond of children..” Pinching Sansa’s rosy cheek you brought her close enough to kiss her temple, who in return threw her arms around you. “Sometimes, I ponder what little versions of me and my husband I might nurture one day.”

“I hope that will happen, Y/N!” Sansa all but shrieked, “I want to see and hold your little babes!”

You paid little mind to the girl’s excitement, patting her on the head fondling urging everyone to continue on their walk.

But Sandor couldn’t shake the picture you painted from his thoughts. He fit the description of a man you would like. He knew it was very unlikely to happen but that little nugget of hope spurred his affections to continue growing in size. And as he layed in bed that night, he fell asleep to the thought of coming home to you, children and dogs racing towards him and you beaming up at him and welcoming him back into your arms.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

Life at the castle in King’s Landing was without a doubt more stressful than that on the road. It became very apparent of the disdain for the Stark lord, thus you made it your sole duty to keep a close watch on the little ladies.

You would secretly taste a bite of their meals before they were served to the family. You would accompany Arya to her sword fighting lessons, and nurse any bruises or cuts she sustained. You would continue to trail behind any interaction between Joffrey, who became more insufferable by the minute, and Sansa. Often you would rarely be found in your chambers at night instead you would be in a chair bedside one of the girls. Body bend and arms propping up your head before you would find yourself asleep in the morning.

Such was one of those mornings. You carefulling clasped sleeping Arya’s door shut and traveling down the halls towards your rooms to get yourself ready for the day. You really did need to find a better sleeping position, the creak in your neck becoming a problem for your stiff neck to be able to move till later in the morning. This ailment distracted you from the bodies moving towards you in the corridor.

“Watch where you're going!” Joffrey’s shrieky voice snapped you out of deep thought.

Looking up to see he had side stepped your trudging path. Causing you to very narrowly crash into Sandor before stopping in front of him.

“Damn! I am so sorry, your highness!” You quickly turned towards the prince offering him an especially low bow for your mistake. Seemingly pleased with your groveling, Joffrey snapped back his walk with a typical roll of his bulging eyes.

“I am truly sorry Ser Clegane, forgive me,” you murmured to the man in front of you.

“Not a knight.” He gruffly supplied, eyes staring down at your shorter frame.

“I am well aware of that. However, I respect you very much. Therefore, I shall continue to address you with such respect.” With that you maneuvered around him and carried on towards your chambers. Just before you turned the corner, you called over your shoulder, “I wish you a wonderful day, Ser Clegane!” before you disappeared from his vision completely.

Thus you rendered Sandor speechless once again. He had never been treated in such a high manor being reduced down to nothing but a brute and an animal. He was at a war with himself. Part of him knew he should follow the prince and continue his task of protecting him, but the other part of him urged him to turn around and march after you. To scoop you up into his arms and pin you against the stone wall, demanding to know what your words meant. To implore you to share if you had affections for him as he did for you. And if you miraculously did, he would kiss you senseless and hold you for all of the time he had left on earth. He would unclasp his armor instantly, place you on a horse, and lead you away from the castle to build you to the life you dreamed to have.

Yet he didn’t, Sandor instead glanced back once more in the direction you left and followed after the prince.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

You were in a state of shock. The king died and Joffrey was immediately crowned king. Your beloved friend and lord was beheaded in front of not only your eyes but his daughters eyes. And thus since then King’s Landing has been rendered to a state of utter and complete chaos.

Yet here and now you were faced with a monstrous choice. Sansa had chosen to stay both for the hope of a better life in the favor of the King, despite her name, and for the Stark name itself.

But Arya now stood before you claiming she would no longer stay at King’s Landing and that she and Sandor were leaving and she needed you to come with her. That this was her turn to repay you for your lifetime of service.

You felt as though your body, heart, soul and mind were being split, each sister taking your livelihood. You did not want to abandon Sansa in this wretched place with him. She still had much to learn and followed young and naive notions. Yet, Arya was littler than her and partaking in what could be a greater threat than Sansa. Her sword skills were not fully honed and Sandor couldn’t know very much of the ways of little stubborn girls.

You did not know what to do. The battle completely evident in your eyes, so Sandor grabbed hold of you and shook you till you gave him your attention.

“Come with me,” he begged selfishly. “Not for the girls, for yourself, for your dream!”

All you could do was look into his soft brown eyes. You didn’t even feel yourself nod, you didn’t feel anything until Sandor tucked you into his side with his arm wrapped around your waist and led you behind Arya to the stables.

Turning back one last time, Sandor watched you shed one single tear looking back at King’s Landing. That was the first tear he ever saw you give freely, before your chest heaved due to a massive breath, you shuddered and urged your horse forward. Away from the city and away from your past.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

You surprisingly loved wondering with Arya and Sandor. You found it completely freeing.

Sandor also loved it, although his grumpy and growly demeanor portrayed otherwise. He was thrilled to be able to have a direct and constant hand in your health and safety.

He was doing his best to give you all the food you could eat when you were starving, evenly dumping some of his portion into yours silently when he noticed you didn’t have your usual sleepy content post meal face he was familiar with.

He always sat close by, when you laid down to sleep each night. He wanted you to receive all the rest you needed for the next day, knowing that while you were strong and could defend yourself when needed, you were still not nearly as skilled as himself or Arya, which caused him great unease and little sleep to your great dismay such as now.

You were restless tonight, rolling over to give your shoulder a break. That is when you noticed Sandor sitting on a log above you staring into the slowly dying fire. “You should sleep too, Sandor.”

For several moments the only response you received was a grunt, before he finally muttered. “I’m fine. Gotta keep watch.” That caused you to rise from your sleep matt. “Do you keep every night?” To which you received another affirmative grunt.

You got up to sit on the log next to him closer than you ever had before-shoulder to shoulder and thigh pressed to his thigh. You then thumped your head against his shoulder, the crown of your head kissing the unbearded skin of his neck causing a shiver to set fire up his spine.

“I can watch sometimes too you know, if there was a threat I could hold them off long enough for you to wake up and take care of it. You shouldn’t have to shoulder all of the burden, Sandor.”

“And you’re not going to take on any of the burden… end of story” he retorted with a tone of finality.

“Very well, I will just have to take extra care of you then won’t I hon.” He just let your statement drift off into the air, not trusting his voice. You did not urge him to respond either, knowing him possibly more than any other human in his life. You were content with his presence and his silence, choosing to curl up into his side further.

Sandor sighed to feign annoyance, but was all too willinging to wrap and arm around you and tuck you closer to him, his large body shielding you from the night chill, while he was lost in thought. You couldn’t have

The next day and the days following you made good of the words you spoke to him.

Sometimes mending his clothes, stitching the worn fabric into a whole garment again. You would never tell him that this was just a tactic to see him shirtless, and that it may have been worthwhile to just buy a new shirt when they reached town.

When you noticed Sandor sliding into his seat stiffly or grunting while he moved, you were more than happy to offer to massage his sore and tired muscles.

Thus he was now shoved to a sitting position on the ground as you stood in between his legs, brows furrowed as you removed what remained of his beat up armor. Triumphantly clapping your hands once the pieces were tossed onto the ground beside you. “Where does it ache?” You questioned.

“Shoulders.” He all but growled not out of anger, but in disbelief that this was a reality and not one of his many fantasies.

Humming you placed your soft hands delicately onto his broad frame and began pressing into his muscles, forming small circles to feel for the tense tissue below. Once you hit a sore spot you applied a slightly firmer grip as you began to work out the kinks and knots that had formed during Sandor’s consistent labor.

After a few minutes, the giant of a man began to relax and lean into your touch, head bowing in relief as reprieve washed over his body.

Before he could stop it, his forehead continued forward before it was stopped by your soft tummy with a thunk, causing you to sigh in content as you continued your ministrations.

Another time he would have been embarrassed for such an action, but in this moment he just relished in being comforted by the woman he loved.

All too soon you finished, brushing his hair behind his ear before stepping back. Sandor had yet to raise his head from its lowered position or make a sound.

Face drawn up in worry, you grasped his scruffy chin and raised it so his eyes had no choice but to meet yours, “Are you alright, Sandor? Did I hurt you?” you questioned softly, eyes searching for any clue into his mind.

“No, never. You could never hurt me.” Sandor allowed himself to lean into the warmth of your hand. “Thank you, love.”

“I don’t need thanks from you, you know I would do anything in my power for you hon. Lay down and rest for me, I’ll get you if something requires your attention.”

And for the first time in his life, Sandor obliged, heart warmed from your care. He laid down on the ground and closed his eyes. While the old him would have felt shame in forsaking his duty for his own needs, all he felt in this moment was your love and care. The last thought ringing in his mind before sleep overtaking him was that from this moment onward he would do everything in his power to earn more of it from you and greedily take any of it you freely offered him.

This was the first time Sandor felt loved by someone, but you certainly made sure it wouldn’t be his last.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

You were more frightened in this moment than you could ever recall being. When Brienne of Tarth managed to throw Sandor from the cliff you felt your heart fall with him.

Without thinking you instantly turned your back to his assailants and raced down the hill to find him praying for him not to be dead.

There you found him begging Arya to relieve him of his misery doing his best to goad her into his wishes. You stood frozen as she refused, simply choosing to take his coins and leave him for dead instead.

You painstakingly waited till she and Brienne were out of sight before rushing to his side, mortified at the extent of his wounds he sustained in addition to the festering gash in his neck. But what crushed you the most was his eyes, there was no liquid golden fire in his brown eyes, they were dull and dark showcasing the true weariness he has carried all of his life.

“Please love,” he muttered weakly, clasping the wrist that was petting his hair, you not knowing what to do to ease his pain at this moment, paralyzed with fear. “You must go, you must leave me. I believe this is as far as I am going to go.”

You shook your head violently, fat droplets ever streaming down your face, “I cannot, I will not! You will make it Sandor, you have to make it!”

“Do not waste your efforts on me, Y/N. You have your whole life yet to live. You have dreams that are yet to be fulfilled. Go fulfill them, love.”

“They have been fulfilled, daft idiot!” you yelled, grasping his face tightly between your hands, “You have fulfilled them. My dreams lie with you… they only exist because you do. And if you die-” a sob choking up your words, “My dreams die with you, my life dies with you, I will continue as a lifeless body, waiting for my fate so my soul may return to yours!” You stood up suddenly full with emotion chest heaving with distraught, “So you have to try, Sandor, you have to. If not for yourself, try for me, fight for me, live for me.” “Alright my love, alright! I yield for you.” Those were the only words he could muster, overwhelmed by your pleas and confessions.

Indeed he did yield, over the following weeks he let you pester over every little thing.

You cooked tirelessly to infuse bone broth with meat still left on the bone, more vegetables than Sandor would have preferred but still swallowed when you lifted it to his lips.

You cleaned his wounds, stitched the larger gashes closed wincing every time you pierced his skin, applied salve and bandaged every little knick you could find. All while he stared wordlessly ahead not uttering a single complaint.

When the sun set you demanded he rested whether he claimed he was rested or not, guiding his head to rest on your thick thighs while you stroked his hair, his scars, and his cheeks till his breath evened out.

He let you remove his torn and bloody clothes, sitting perfectly still as you used a spare cloth to remove as much of the grime and dried blood as you could before dressing him in clean clothes once more.

He even conceded to let you wash his hair, leaning back against a rock, head hanging off the edge as you poured water over his crown, eyes fluttering closed as you threaded your fingers through his hair combing knots out of his hair and cleansing his scalp of any filth that darken his locks further.

It was because of you that a few short weeks later he was back on his feet sitting in an old tavern drinking mead in the warmth radiating from the fire in the hearth, looking more alive then he did before his battle and his fall.

And you were glowing under the golden hues beaming across the room from the dancing flames. A small but radiating smile of content graces your features as you quietly sit beside him sipping from your mug as you watch the townspeople, talk and laugh and be merry.

Feeling his gaze bore into the side of your face, you turned to Sandor, “Well, now that you are better, what do you wish to see or do, hon?”

A pregnant pause laid over the pair of you causing you to wonder if you spoke loud enough over the cheers and conversations surrounding you.

Finally his deep voice reached your ears, “I intend to show you my gratitude for your grace and patience. Then when I am satisfied with my performance, I am going to follow you till you find your paradise and once you do I will build you a house.”

You dropped your jaw in shock at his blunt confession. This did not deter him from rising to his feet, swinging his leg around the bench and clasping his hand over your wrist and urging you to follow him to the room you both paid for upstairs.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

After following you into the small room, he latched the door shut and moved to stand before you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

When he found none, he slid one large muscled arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, the other hand moving to cup the back of your neck angling your face towards him.

Your breath hitched as he moved so his lips were only a few inches away from yours before he paused, “Do you wish for this? May I continue?”

Instantly, you pushed onto your toes and closed the distance pressing your lips firmly against his as a response.

This pulled a grunt of surprise from the man, but his surprise did not keep him from returning the kiss feverishly.

Lips glide against lips, and you move your hands up his sides to rest against his firm, broad chest.

The hand clasped against your neck moving to thread through the locks of hair and the base of your skull before tugging lightly to better angle your mouth to his.

You gasp toward the sensation, Sandor using the opportunity to poke his tongue out and trace each of your lips before messaging against yours.

With a groan, his hands left their respective places to slide against the back of your thighs before gripping the fat as he hoisted you effortlessly into his arms.

You swing each of your legs around his thick waist in response, and your arms encircling his neck resting your biceps onto his shoulders and you press your lips harder into his.

With a few large strides, Sandor crossed the room before resting your back gently onto the bed.

You were too distracted by the feel of his body to unwrap yourself from him, causing a deep resounding chuckle to vibrate in his chest before cupping your face and pulling his lips from yours.

You whine at the loss of contact trying to follow his lips, but he pulled his head too far out of your reach.

“I know, my love,” He assured as he brushed strands from your face to rest along with the rest of your hair splayed out around your head like a crown. “Let me take care of you, as you did for me. Let me praise and worship you, so that you may know what I have to offer and what you shall receive for the rest of your life. Will you honor me with this, please love, let me do this for you.” He pleaded, causing the butterflies to dance around your stomach before fluttering their way to your core, lighting a fire to accompany the warmth already starting to pool in between your thighs.

“Please Sandor, god yes please.” the words barely left your lips before he crashed to his knees pulling your hips towards the edge of the bed till the cups of your ass kissed the end of the mattress.

He splayed his hands across your hip bones, as he looked at you with a questioning gaze.

After you consented with a nod, he quickly pulled the laces of your pants from their ties and slid the form fitting fabric down your thighs and off your legs before launching the article across the room with haste.

“Lift your arms, I will see all of you as I worship you for this blessed first time, darling.” he commanded, to which you happily obliged, arching your back and raising your hands above your head. He removed the tunic and tossed it in the same fashion as your pants, before sweeping his gaze across every inch of your skin.

His large and warm hands gliding to your supple soft breasts tracing the curve they produced before squeezing the mounds into his palms relishing in the whimper you gave him in response followed by a soft “Please!”.

“I know what you need my love, just have a little patience for me,” he urged, taking your hard nipples in between his thumb and pointer finger beginning to roll and pinch them earning him a louder whine as you pushed your chest further into his grasp.

He dipped his lips to your left breast, poking his tongue out to swirl against the perky bud, teasing you a little before, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking while twirling and lapping at your peak with a little more pressure.

You mewled in pressure, the menstruations shooting straight to your core causing your hips to search Sandor’s in a desperate attempt to find some friction. “More!” you begged him as he released your boob with a pop before repeating the same treatment to the right, his hand coming to replace his mouth on your left tit.

Once he was satisfied with his treatment he pulled back to look at his work. Your chest heaving as your breasts glistened from the coating of his saliva. “You are exquisite, Y/N.” he murmured against your skin as he placed hot open mouthed kisses down a path on your stomach. “I think, I’ll have to make you mine, don’t you think? All mine, all for me and no one else. Yes, and if they tried to take you from me I will cut them down where they stand and lay you down and fuck you in their blood.” He placed one last kiss on your skin, his bottom lip brushing against the soft curls at the top of your mound. He lifted his gaze to your eyes where you were watching him, lust and need swirling around the pools of your irises. “Don’t you think that is fair love. You want that?”

“Yes, Sandor, please” you crooned for him. “Please!” you pleaded once more.

“Please what, my love? Tell me and I shall do it for you.” He knew what you were asking but wanted to bask in hearing your words grace his ears for the first time.

“Please touch me!” You cried. “But I have touched your love, is it not enough? Where do you need my touch, darling?” Sandor began tracing little patterns on the inside of your thighs testing your patience, skirting close to your folds before shying away.

“I need your fingers or your mouth! I need them inside please, I need you inside!” tears started to well up in your pretty eyes causing Sandor to give in and stop his teasing.

Torturously slow he spread your thighs, watching as strings of your arousal stretched between your wet folds. This sight alone caused Sandor to let out a deep guttural groan, his cock swelling against the seams of his trousers. But he paid no mind instead choosing to inch closer to your puffy pussy, close enough for you to feel his hot breath fanning against your aroused core.

“Look at you! Isn’t she such a pretty perfect little pussy? Is this all for me, my love?”

“Yes, for you! All for you!” You answered by lifting your hips in hopes of relief.

“Thank you for this wonderful gift, lovely, I’m going to have to give it a taste.” With that he pulled your folds apart even further and took on lip into his mouth sucking as much of your arousal as he could before doing the same to the opposite fold, before gliding the flat surface of his tongue from your entrance to your seam causing a delish scrap against your clit.

You threw your head back as you moaned loud for him, hands moving to grip his brown tresses. Spurred on by your noises, Sandor began prodding, sucking and licking at your swollen little bud trying to coax as much of your arousal as possible. Seemingly satisfied, he dragged one of his thick fingers through your fold before knocking it against the opening of your entrance.

All at once he pulled your pearl into his mouth beginning to suck lewdly at it while he slid his finger into your wet cunt.

“Sandorrr!” You moaned, shocked by the intensity of the sensations trying to rock your pelvis into his mouth, only to be stopped and pinned to the mattress by his free arm.

“I got you love, let me have you.” he coaxed releasing your bud to give it a kiss before returning to alternating between licking and sucking on your bud working hard to coax your first orgasm for him.

As you began climbing towards your peak he added another finger along with the first, giving you a delicious burn to the pleasure you were feeling that sent your reeling. A spew of moans and whimpers falling from your lips as Sandor set a rhythm between his mouth and fingers.

“I gotta stretch you open, darling, I’m a big man. You gotta cum for me first if you want my cock love.”

Chants of his name in broken high pitched whimpers were given to him in response as you hurled up towards your release thighs clenching deliciously and core winding that knot impossibly tight.

Sensing you were getting close, Sandor curled his fingers up into your cunt finding and massaging that gooey spot inside you with each thrust, causing you to reel and thrash against the bed.

Finally, the cord inside you snapped as you tipped over the edge, your orgasm washing over you, Sandors name being the only thought and words in your brain and leaving your lips and you rode out your high.

“God, you are squeezing me so tight, love. How is my cock going to fit in such a tight little cunt?” Sandor groaned, still slowly pumping his fingers aiding in milking you of orgasm for all it would give him before he slid them out of you with a loud squelching noise.

You laid there trying to catch your breath as you watched in shock as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean before dropping them.

Chuckling as he saw your surprised expression he told you, “You taste divine, darling, I will never let such a sweet nectar go to waste, I promise you.”

Rising from his knees, he tore off his shirt and hastily untied his pants before shucking them down his legs.

This caused his cock to spring from its confinements and slap against his stomach allowing you to get a glimpse of him.

You gulped nervously. You knew he had to be larger than the average man just like the rest of him. But knowing it and actually seeing him in front of you were two completely separate things.

Sensing your apprehension, he stroked your cheek lovingly. “I won’t deny that there will be some discomfort initially, but you have all my patience and more and I will go slow. You are in control and we can stop anytime it becomes too much, alright my love?”

“Thank you,” you whispered, nerves fading slightly.

He stroked himself a few times before sliding his dick against your folds collecting all the arousal you were willing to give him, making sure to tap your clit lightly a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

Sandor looked down at you and once you gave him a nod he slowly began sliding the tip inside your entrance.

Although it was just his tip, the stretch was immense causing you to hiss at the filling and clutch your biceps.

Sandor paused there for a moment, until you seemed okay and pushed in a little more.

Finally after repeating the pattern a few more times, you looked down as he rested inside you while you grew adjusted to see that he was only about half way.

“I’m going to push in all the way now, love. It will probably be easier for you, I need you to try and relax for me.You are clenching me so tight.” He groaned into your neck as he used all his strength not to just drill himself into you.

You did your best to relax as he slid the rest in before he finally kissed your cervix with his mushroom tip.

“Take your time and adjust to love, let me know when you are ready.”

After several moments, you whispered, “I’m okay, please move.”

Placing both of his hands beside your head Sandor slowly dragged his cock out of you just a bit before sliding back. Repeating the slow rhythm a few times more for himself than it was for you.

Soon you grew impatient and pressed your hips towards his before whining “More, Sandor, give me more! I need more!”

This seemed to light something inside of the man because he then began picking up speed, his hips snapping against yours. Everytime he was fully seated inside you the roll of his hips brushed the wisps of hair at the base of his cock against your clit, sending you reeling with pleasure.

Far too soon you felt the onset of your second orgasm, “Sandor, I’m close,” you warned before whining another “Please,” not entirely sure what you were begging him for. “So am I love, come for me, come with me. We will do it together.” he groaned from his place by your ear, his hips snapping as he started thrusting with a bit more force. He reached between your bodies and started thumbing your clit, causing your orgasm to crash over you with a moan, walls spasming around his length coaxing his orgasm, which he gave to you almost instantly. His hips sputtered as he tried to maintain his rhythm as he shot thick long ropes of cum into your gummy center filling you up. After a few more thrusts, he stilled inside you as he took a moment to collect himself and catch his breath.

A few minutes later, he raised himself up onto his elbows and looked into your eyes, “Did I hurt you, my love? Are you alright?”

“No, I am quite wonderful actually,” you huffed with a laugh.

“Good, I am pleased to hear it. You look so beautiful like this.” He supplied before leaning down to capture your lips once more.

Once you separated he slipped out of you and rolled over, pulling you to rest your head onto his chest while he twirled strands of your hair around your fingers.

You looked up at him, causing him to meet your gaze.

“I love you, Sandor,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“I have loved you since we rode together from Winterfell.” He admitted to you before clasping one of your small hands into his own. “Marry me,Y/N. Become my wife, let me father your children, and build your home. Let me cut down the wood for your fires, and always be there to eat the food you cook. It is what I have always wanted, please let it be me.”

“It was always you, silly goose, from the moment that little prick asked me what I dreamed of, I will happily marry you, always.”

Filled with excitement, Sandor sat up and thrusted you back in once more for a bruisingly sweet kiss.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃ ❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

Many years later, you realized you fulfilled your dream.

Shortly after that night you and Sandor quickly got married.

It was a short ceremony, no one you knew was there. Just you and Sandor and some random townsperson, Sandor gave a few coins to marry you two.

Afterwards you set off to find the perfect place to build your house, and eventually you did.

Some many miles away from any other people, there was a quaint little meadow on top of a hill, with a little lake laying at the bottom.

And so Sandor got to work building a house to your exact specifications. Lots of windows, a porch so you could read and watch the kids play. A good size kitchen and a cozy fire next to the table. A modest bedroom for the two of you to share and a few extra rooms for the potential for future kids. It wasn’t the grandest of buildings nor was it the most humble, but it was yours and you love it.

Shortly after the completion of the house, you found a pair of dogs completely different from one another in breed. One was big and mean looking although it was a huge sweetie, which Sandor claimed and named Reaper.

Meanwhile your companion was a fluffy pointy eared little ball of energy in which you named Nylah.

After a few years you finally became pregnant and gave birth to a daughter you named Aurora, and following your oldest you gave Sandor two more daughters Odessa and Hadleigh.

Although Sandor did not picture himself a father he certainly did not anticipate being a father to three daughters, but alas they were the perfect gifts.

And you never cease to find a kick out of watching the large beast that was your husband gruffly oblige almost instantly to your little girl's wishes for little fairy houses or play kitchens. Always caving into spoiling his little girls and never refusing a chance to join their tea parties or play family.

Eventually you gave birth to a set of twins in which you decided would be your last. This time the twins are both boys, Cristen and Harper.

At first, Sandor was petrified at the prospect of two sons, fearing he would raise them wrong and them growing in contempt like himself and his brother.

But as both the boys grew, he quickly realized his father’s faults and recognized his boys’ differences and did his best to cultivate their strengths.

You were given the perfect little life by Sandor and in return you gave him more love than he even deserved, surrounded by their beautiful childrens with a life you built with your own hands. Sandor will be eternally indebted to you and vowed to love you deservingly for all the days you had with him.

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