#ned/reader

[coopsgirl]

I love this so much! Ned is such a sweetie 💕

Headcanons: Crushing > First Kiss > Dating with Ned

Requested by: @youngcroissantturkeyworribler​

Pairing: Ned x reader

Gender: Neutral          Triggers: None

Notes: For anyone that might not know who Ned is, and maybe you are reading this because you just love Lee Pace (because who doesn’t). Ned is from the show Pushing Daisies, which is a very odd show, but also very good. So of course it was canceled after two seasons -_- Also, Ned’s “gift” mentioned is that he can bring someone back to life by touching them. But they can only stay “awake” for 1 minute, otherwise another being with a similar “life value”, nearby, dies. And once someone is touched and re-awakened, it can only happen once. 

he’s so cute ugh

-

Crushing

❁ When you and Ned first met he had *heart eyes* immediatley

❁ So of course he was super shy, cute, and awkward af around you for a while at first

❁ But because you were really chill and nice, you got along instantly

❁ Of course you couldn’t help but find him adorable

❁ Trips to The Pie Hole became often, which he was super excited about

❁ You said you couldn’t get enough of his pies, but in reality, though his pies were really good, it was more accurate that you couldn’t get enough of his face

❁ You met Emerson soon after, and he could see the sparks between you

❁ But because he’s Emerson he didn’t really say much

❁ But Ned did not miss his somewhat judgmental looks when Ned would fail at keeping a conversation with you

❁ But Emerson liked you, and he thought that you and Ned would make a pretty good pair, though he wouldn’t say it out loud

❁ Anyways

❁ At some point Ned found out that you occasionally bake at your home, and his heart eyes for you grew in size

❁ Like, you were perfect

❁ And then things changed when you ended up finding out about Ned’s “gift” 

❁ Somehow you got caught up in one of Ned and Emerson’s cases

❁ Ned was terrified you would be scared of him, or grossed out

Keep reading

[llonelygoddess]

Yandere House Stark Headcanons

A/N: I ended up not doing Bran and Rickon only because I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later and they were a little difficult to write for. If you'd like to see headcanons for them I can definitely make another post for them, just let me know.

Let's say you are a low born person looking for refuge in Winterfell after your village was sacked by Wildlings. You had hoped to find some tavern to hold up in or even a brothel, but unbeknownst to you the Stark family kept an eye on newcomers. When they received news of your arrival, they requested your presence. It was only to talk about the possibility of nearby Wildlings, but when YOU showed up beaten and scared for your life- how could they not offer their Stark hospitality?

This is where the yandere tendencies begin.

Ned Stark, as a yandere, is protective and definitely has a savior complex. He's an honorable and just man that can't help but bring home strays, so when he sees you it's like finding Jon all over again. A deep sense of responsibility comes over him and he knows in that moment that you are just as much his as any of his kids. From that day forward he assigns a room for you in the castle and a handmaiden to keep you company, not that you'll be needing it. The family of course is shocked at his sudden interest, but they all love to see him happy and nothing makes him more happy than seeing you taken care of.

Now Catelyn is initially worried that Ned has taken a romantic interest in you, but when she sees the way you both interact she understands the fatherly bond he is trying to create very similar to his own kids. It didn't take long for her to fall into her own yandere tendencies; checking in on you in the mornings, making prayer wheels even when you're not sick, helping in the kitchen to make sure your food was perfect ( and not poisoned). She takes her role as your surrogate mother very seriously,sometimes to the extent of watching you sleep or ordering guards to discreetly watch over you and report back. Her biggest worry is that you'll be taken away from them so she takes extra precautions to keep you safe.

Robb is head over heels for you instantly. Man is down bad. Much like his father, Robb has a savior complex and finds himself wanting to be YOUR savior always. He does this by training extra hard with Jon, keeping an eye on you at all times, and giving threatening looks to any man or woman who gets too close to you. He doesn’t mean to scare away any potential friends but he does mean to scare away potential lovers. He couldn’t bear to see you with anyone outside the family, and even then he has a sword up his butt about it. 

On the other hand, Jon takes a while to warm up to you. He loves his family and is vicious to outsiders who could harm them. Eventually, seeing how you interact with everyone makes him a tad jealous. Not of you, but of his family and how easily they can approach you. I definitely see Jon as an overprotective/stalker yandere with strong jealous tendencies that make him beg for your approval. He finds himself wherever you are, lurking in the background, waiting for the right moment to catch you alone. Jon feels like himself around you and the more time you spend together the more addicted to your presence he becomes. 

Theon is hands down THE worshiper of the group. It's a hot take for sure but as a yandere, I see Theon's insecurities and fears taking over, slightly similar to reek!Theon. He sees you as a deity, above the Lords and Ladies, even above the King/Queen themself. If it were up to him he'd be the one giving you your meals, running your baths, standing by your side as guard. He cherishes your very presence and hopes one day you'll see his never ending loyalty to you and only you. 

Sansa is very quiet about her obsession, you almost couldn't tell. She's the perfect friend, always sitting next to you at meals, gossiping about the Lords and Lady's of court, and helping you stock your wardrobe. Whatever hobby you choose to pick up, she's always there to praise you in your efforts and guide you in whatever way she can. She especially loves teaching you how to embroider as it's her specialty. It was all but normal until you came upon her private journal filled with both your names in beautiful cursive surrounded by hearts. You begin to notice the closeness she silently demands, eyeing everyone else to stay away. You see the way she longingly watches you from afar when you choose to spend time with anyone else. And your dresses, that you both so carefully picked out, seem to have a little embroidered "SS" on the nape of your neck.

Arya sees you as her golden older sibling, the one who can do no wrong. She is constantly dragging you around Winterfell - riding horses and trying to shoot arrows (and failing lol). She finds comfort within you, the only person who doesn't expect anything of her except to be herself. And for that she will never leave your side. Most nights you'll find her trying to sneak into your room to share a bed, but whether she can get past the guards Ned and Catelyn have posted outside your door is another story.

[weirdiingwoman]

took the cregan pill and saw god

[claymoresword]

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.

[axelsagewrites]

Main Masterlist Here

House of the Dragon Masterlist Here

Warnings/Guides

【P】Platonic【P】 🆇Smut 18+🆇

Request Line Up and Request Rules

♡ Jon Snow ♡

🆇What he's like in bed🆇

Blind date

🆇Milady🆇

🆇Home Alone🆇

🆇Price of My Secrecy 🆇

Relationship Moodboard

🆇Couldn't Resist🆇

♡ Robb Stark ♡

Best Friend

Marriage night

🆇Dream🆇 🆇part two🆇

Frey Girl 🆇part two🆇

🆇I miss you🆇

Cloak

Honey Cakes (cloak part two or standalone)

Comfort

Sweet Girl

🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇

🆇Good girl🆇

Yearbook

Don't Die For Me

🆇Little Secret🆇

🆇Can't Catch a Break🆇

Goodnight Dear Husband

♡ Sandor Clegane ♡

Most People Say Goodbye Part One - Part Two

🆇Brat🆇

♡ Beric Dondarrian ♡

Home

♡ Thoros of Myr ♡

Favourite Friend

♡ Brienne of Tarth ♡

【P】Queen in the North and South【P】

♡Ned Stark♡

🆇MiLord🆇

🆇Wife🆇

♡Ramsay Bolton♡

🆇My Father Would Kill Me🆇

🆇Catch You🆇

🆇How Far Would You Go🆇

🆇Appreciate You🆇

🆇Bath🆇

🆇Little Mouse🆇

♡Roose Bolton♡

Perhaps

Not Yet

♡Edmure Tully♡

【P】Who We Call Family【P】

My Queen My Love

♡Theon Greyjoy♡

Dream of Sweet Memories

🆇Give it back🆇

♡Sansa Stark♡

Roommates

🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇

🆇What's This?🆇

Surprise Visit

♡Podrick Payne♡

🆇Praise🆇

♡Daenereys Targaryen♡

🆇My Queen🆇

♡Jamie Lannister♡

🆇Extra Credit🆇

♡Oberyn Martell♡

🆇Duty🆇

♡Margaery Tyrell♡

🆇Ropes🆇

♡Cersei♡

🆇Morning🆇

♡Tormund♡

🆇Real Man🆇

🆇Use your words🆇

♡ Yara Greyjoy ♡

Flirting

Preferences/Multicharacter

🆇Company🆇 - Yara and Ellaria threesome

🆇What they're like in bed🆇 – Robb, Jon, Sandor, Podrick

How they react to teasing – all

🆇What They're Like in Bed🆇 – Margaery, Sansa, Danny, Yara

Share pt1 🆇Competition pt2🆇 🆇Wait p3🆇 - Robb and Jon

🆇Hook ups🆇 - Theon and Jon

Love Languages - Jon, Robb, Bran, Tormund, Podrick, Oberyn

Thanks for any support I appreciate it all xoxo Sage

Dividers from here and here from @saradika

Post topper made on Canva

[entitled-fangirl]

A change of sigil.

Robb Stark x Baratheon!reader

Summary: After wedding Robb Stark and becoming the Lady of Winterfell, the reader learns about the king's death and the treason of Ned.

Masterlist

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The newly wedded Y/N Stark (once Baratheon) ran through the corridors of Winterfell. 

Her eyes fell upon the Stark's Maester. Her eyes lit up. "A letter from my father? Has he finally written me back?"

The older man's eyes softened with guilt, "I'm afraid not, my lady."

Her face fell but she quickly recovered it, "oh. M… May I still see it?"

"This," He held it back from her, "Is for Lord Stark to read."

Embarrassment flooded her cheeks and she nodded. "Right. How foolish of me."

His lips pulled into a smile and he held his arm out. The North did like the gentle girl, after all, "C'mon, my lady. Walk to me to him so we may discuss the reason for such a letter."

She smiled back and took his arm.

…

"Treason?" Robb's brows furrowed and his teeth grit, "Sansa wrote this?"

"It is your sister's hand, but the queen's words."

Y/N's eyes remained on the table, unsure of what to think. Her mother was a cunning woman, and it did not surprise her of such a thing.

"You are summoned to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new king."

"My father is dead?" She interrupted quietly.

The men's eyes flickered to her.

Robb's anger did not falter, "Joffrey puts my father in chains, now he wants his ass kissed?"

The Maester sighed, "This is a royal command, my lord." His eyes flickered between the lord and lady, "If you should refuse to obey-"

"-I won't refuse," Robb quickly butted in. "His grace summons me to King's Landing, I'll go to King's Landing. But not alone."

He rolled the letter up and handed it back to the maester. "Call the banners."

"All of them, my lord?"

"They've all sworn to defend my father, have they not?"

"They have."

"Now, we see what their words are worth."

"Very well." The maester left quickly.

Y/N's eyes remained on the table, not once wavering. Robb noticed it and rounded the table to sit by her. His head tilted to study her further. His hand reached up to gently grab her jaw, moving her head to face him.

Her eyes connected with his, and they were filled with tears, "My father is dead?"

His lips pull into a line as he looks to Theon and back, "I'm afraid so."

She took a shaky breath in to keep the tears from falling. "Murdered?"

Theon stood at her words, angered a bit inside. He quickly bowed his head and left the room in a huff.

Robb shook his head, "No. Animal attack while hunting is all Sansa wrote."

She was quiet a while before she spoke again, "He loved me."

Robb gritted his teeth. "He had a funny way of showing it."

"But he did love me. I am worth nothing now."

"Hey." His voice lowered at his words. His grip on her jaw tightened. "Do not say such things. You are worth everything to me. Winterfell is your home. Its people are your people. They are loyal."

"Loyal to you. To your name."

"No." He pushed. "They will be loyal to you. You are still a princess after all, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"And more importantly," he kissed her forehead gently, "You are my wife."

She nodded again before a thought came to her. "What is keeping those that rule from killing your father and sisters just the same?"

His eyebrows raised and he shook her head, "Nothing, I suppose. I must hope they fear the North enough or I drive my sword through your brother before they can touch the Starks." He tilted his head, "I need your loyalty. I know I have it. But the people need it."

"I am loyal to you, Robb. You are all I have."

He smiles and caresses her face before shaking his head, "I don't want loyalty for fear or power. Your loyalty should be of trust and honor. I ask again, are you loyal to me, my love?"

"Without my father, the Baratheon sigil means nothing to me. I belong to House Stark now."

His smile grows and he kisses her gently, "I will win this. For you. For my family. I promise you."

..............................................................

A/N: I feel a series coming onnnnn

[bumblesimagines]

The Wolf's Guard

Request: Yes or No

Summary: The love between a wolf and their darling is unbreakable, even if that darling is a Bolton.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

~~~

If the Starks were known for anything, it was their honor, duty, and family values. Everyone in all of Westeros knew it, from the poor to the rest of the Great Houses, as many had bore witness to those traits at play. The wolves of the north, the pack that'd once been called Kings, had bent the knee willingly during Aegon's Conquest and from then on, were known as Wardens of the North.

The glorious House Stark of Winterfell. Robb still vividly remembered the days in which he and his bastard brother, Jon Snow, were taught the history of their ancestors. Brandon the Boisterous, Cregan Stark, Rodwell Stark, Rickard Stark... Robb knew their names well, knew the significance of their importance to his bloodline. They were his ancestors, warriors with wolf's blood coursing through their veins, and blood that ran through his. Just like them, Robb is heir to Winterfell, the firstborn son of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Stark. And while Robb's heart valued honor, duty, and family over all else, there were times when he wished he hadn't been born first.

The first time he took his mind off his duty as heir (a duty everyone constantly reminded him of every waking moment) was when Roose Bolton brought his second-born son, (Y/N) Bolton, to Winterfell when they were children to become a ward under Eddard Stark. He'd heard about the stories and rumors surrounding the family and their ancestral home, the Dreadfort. Their history was as lengthy as the Starks, with their own ancestors having been once called the Red Kings. While Starks were honorable, Boltons were cruel, cunning, and dishonorable with a tradition of flaying their enemies that they were forced to give up upon being bannermen for the Starks. However, there were rumors they still flayed their prisoners after days and weeks of torture.

Robb and Jon exchanged whispers while their father spoke with Roose Bolton, an unremarkably ordinary-looking man despite the eerie aura that surrounded him and his sons. His eyes were striking, a color so pale and odd that they made shivers run down the spines of the two boys when he looked in their direction. But the prickle of uneasiness that poked at Robb vanished when (Y/N) looked toward him. Jon immediately ducked behind the barrel they'd chosen to hide behind but Robb held his gaze and was rewarded with a grin. 

"Robb," His father had called out, "Come."

Robb immediately obeyed, jumping out from behind the barrel and striding over to his brother. At the age of seven, Robb knew his place as heir very well so he made every attempt at showing everyone the manners and way of nobles he'd been taught. Ned placed a comforting hand over his shoulder and smiled down at his son. "Why don't you show (Y/N) around Winterfell, Robb? His father and I have much to discuss." 

"Yes, Father." Robb nodded, his auburn curls bouncing off his forehead. Domeric Bolton, eldest son of Roose and heir to the Dreadfort, similarly set his hand over his younger brother's shoulder. (Y/N) peered up at his father and then at his brother, lingering even after Roose gave him an approving nod. 

"Go on," Domeric murmured gently and (Y/N) looked back at Robb with a growing smile. 

Robb spent the rest of the day showing (Y/N) around Winterfell, his chest puffing out with pride each time (Y/N) seemed impressed about something. Jon and Theon trailed after them, providing input that (Y/N) largely ignored in favor of giving Robb his full attention, something surprisingly made him squirm. He finished the tour by introducing (Y/N) to his mother and his younger sister, Sansa. Catelyn greeted (Y/N) politely, more kindly than she treated Jon at least, and offered to get some sweets for them after dinner while Sansa clung to her skirts and watched them.

It wasn't until a few days later, when the boys were giggling on a stack of haybale after their latest mischief that Robb had a thought that would continue to emerge: 'I wish he were a girl.'

As they grew and reached their fifteenth name days, they both began showcasing the faithful traits of their house. Robb grew gentler, less mischievous, and showed a strong sense of honor. He continued reading his histories and studied faithfully under the septa, training nearly every day with Ser Rodrick Cassel and accompanying his father whenever he ventured out on hunts or to meet with others. (Y/N) seemingly grew a taste for blood, something that emerged during training. He went easier on Robb than the others, incredibly apparent as Theon and Jon would end up bruised and bloody by the end of each session. But despite Theon's complaints and Jon's worries about (Y/N) fatally injuring someone, Robb could never shake the astonished, fluttery feeling whenever he saw (Y/N). 

"Come on, boy," Ser Rodrick called to the staggering Jon and Robb couldn't help but wince at the trickle of blood going down his nose. Jon wiped it away, his black hair clinging to his dirt-speckled sweaty face. Nobody had to look at Theon to know the boy likely looked pale as winter snow. (Y/N) pointed the - thankfully - wooden sword at Jon and cocked his head to the side, a wide grin across his face. 

"What's wrong, Snow?" (Y/N) taunted, and Jon glared at him, throwing aside his sword and marching right up to (Y/N). The Bolton laughed when Jon grabbed the sides of his chest armor, his teeth digging into his bottom lip before he rammed the end of the sword into Jon's temple. Jon cursed loudly and released him to grab the side of his head, the blow working as intended when (Y/N) slammed his foot into Jon's chest piece and knocked him back. 

"I believe that's enough, aye, lad?" Robb straightened up at the sound of his father's voice, craning his neck to watch Ned step out of the nearby building and approach them with a grimace. He gently clapped the back of (Y/N)'s shoulder to congratulate him, his eyes remaining locked on his bastard son's panting form. "Go see Maester Luwin, Jon."

"May I have a word in private, Lord Stark?" Ser Rodrick asked, earning a curt nod in response. (Y/N)'s eyes followed the two older men as they walked further away from them, their voices drowned out by the hustle and bustle of servants working and guests chatting. His lips formed a noticeable pout, one that made Robb chuckle as he helped take the chest piece off him. 

"They're going to send me home." (Y/N) muttered bitterly.

"They won't," Robb assured him, handing the piece off to a nearby servant and giving them a thankful smile. (Y/N) huffed, the air coming out in a small cloud, and he tossed the sword aside into the dirt beside them. Robb caught a brief look at the knitted brow, sullen expression on his face before (Y/N) turned on his heel and stormed away. Immediately, Robb followed without a second thought, keeping his eyes focused on the boy until they reached the Godswood. 

"Leave me alone, Robb." (Y/N) muttered grumpily, slumping down on the ground beside the water and roughly tugging blades of grass from the ground. 

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Robb responded, taking a seat beside him and gazing out into the water. The Godswood had always been a place to seek peace or advice from the Old Gods, a place Robb could visit to clear his mind or simply escape for a brief moment. (Y/N) pursed his lips and Robb smiled, pressing his fingertip against (Y/N)'s cheek and gigging softly when he swatted at his hand. "Come on, tell me." 

"Nobody here likes me. They're scared of me." (Y/N) said quietly, tugging more grass out of the dirt. "Lord Eddard is going to send me home to the Dreadfort, I know he is. Father's going to be mad at me but at least Dom will be there."

Robb stared at him, noticing the way he pressed his lips together to stop them from quivering. "I like you." He revealed softly and (Y/N) tilted his head toward him, eyes flickering between Robb's vibrant blue eyes. Robb's stomach twisted and turned, heat rising up his neck and covering his ears like fire. 

"How much?"

"A lot." He admitted, the branches above them gently rustling together with the wind. The sound eased his nerves, eased the dread threatening to bubble up and consume him. "If you were a lady, I would ask Father to let us wed."

(Y/N)'s lips curled up at that. "The Old Gods do not care if we're both men, Robb." He reminded him, that familiar grin working its way onto his face. Robb smiled again, setting his hand over (Y/N)'s and putting an end to his constant grass tearing. "Would you kill for me, Robb?"

"To protect you, yes," Robb answered immediately, no poundering needed. He'd kill to protect any of his loved ones. His parents, Jon, Theon, Sansa, little Arya and Bran. His father spilled blood for his late sister, Lyanna, during the rebellion and Robb doubted his father wouldn't do it all over again for her. "Would you?"

"If you asked." Then, (Y/N) leaned forward and clumsily mushed their lips together, sending a jolt down Robb's spine and a heat throughout his face. He'd kissed a young lady once or twice in secret and out of curiosity but despite his brief experience, he moved nervously and just as clumsily. 

Things rapidly changed from then on, behind closed doors at least. To the servants and residents of Winterfell, the two remained the same close friends as always, but away from prying eyes and curious ears, they were inseparable lovers. Robb's lingering stares grew and any ladies his mother asked him about were brushed away for one excuse or another. The sneaking around, the subtle touches, and innocent gestures, it was all exciting for them but Robb grew to prefer how hungry (Y/N) always seemed for him. It felt good to be wanted, felt good when he whispered loving confessions and laughed at (Y/N)'s eye rolls and flustered smiles. 

Until, as quickly as their relationship began, they were just as quickly swept away from each other. 

Not long after (Y/N) sixteenth name day, news arrived at Winterfell of Domeric Bolton's death. An illness in the stomach, the first letter from Maester Uthor read, but the letter from Roose informed him of a new family member who'd potentially caused the death of his brother: a half-brother by the name of Ramsay Snow—a bastard of the North. With Domeric dead, the title of heir fell on (Y/N)'s shoulders and took him away from Winterfell and back to the Dreadfort. Jon and Theon eased with his absence but Robb's heart broke into pieces. As a secondborn, (Y/N) could do as he pleased and remain by Robb's side forever if he wished, but as an heir?

As much as his absence pained him, Robb ensured to write (Y/N) many letters, most with secret messages only the two of them could understand. He detailed any events that'd gone on, small or big, silly or tragic. He wrote to him about the pups found by Jon and the one he'd claimed, about the royal visit at Winterfell and his father's new position as Hand, Jon joining the Night's Watch, the saddening news of his sister's wolf being killed. The letters stopped when Lord Robb Stark of Winterfell called the bannermen to war. 

Robb focused on the war, on avenging his father and bringing his beloved sisters home before they could be harmed by the Lannisters. The Bolton's joined the effort, of course, but Robb hardly saw (Y/N) during the start. They both had their duties, their own men to command, and many more things to worry about. But, the reunion had Robb nearly collapsing. 

He'd seen him, caught a brief glance during a battle with Lannister's army. It'd been enough to make him fight even harder, and they'd won in the end, returning back to camp to treat their wounded and count the dead. Robb had been swept away, his new title as King of the North forcing even more responsibilities onto his lap, but he managed to keep his racing mind focused enough to manage the tasks at hand, nearly forgetting about the glimpse until that night. 

Dragging the wet rag over his sword, Robb thought about his father. He thought about all the things Ned would say to him, the advice he'd give to him. His father knew of battles and rebellions, he knew of war. Robb only knew what he learned as the war progressed. Sure, there were many older men who'd fought alongside his father, who still had the taste of war in their mouths, but none would compare to the knowledge of Eddard Stark. He sighed quietly, gazing over his reflection and failing to hear the person entering his tent. 

"King of the North, aye? Has a pretty ring to it." He tensed immediately, first due to surprise and then because of that familiar voice. His head whirled around, eyes wide and heart pleading. (Y/N) grinned at him, splatters of blood still covering his skin and clothes from a battle the Boltons and few others had ridden out to, but it suited him perfectly. The sword fell with a loud clatter and Robb darted up from his seat, unable to restrain himself from flying into (Y/N)'s embrace. "Missed me, hm?" He laughed.

"Of course, I missed you, you bastard." Robb exhaled, leaning back to grasp the sides of his face, disregarding the blood that smeared onto his palms before he crashed their lips together. An almost animalistic growl-like noise emitted from (Y/N) throat and he kissed him back more roughly, as were most things with (Y/N). The Bolton backed him up until Robb fell back onto the bed, briefly knocking the air out of him. (Y/N) hovered above him, eyes glinting with a familiar look that sent heat rushing to his stomach.

"Sorry 'bout Lord Eddard, Robb." He murmured, dipping down to brush his lips over Robb's cheek and down to his throat where he dug his teeth lightly into him. 

"I heard of your half-brother, (Y/N)." Robb sighed again, the familiarity of it all making him lightheaded. His beloved had always been all tongue and teeth. (Y/N) snorted softly into his throat, a short chuckle leaving him at the mention of Ramsay's demise. He'd died in his sleep, or so Lord Bolton had said. 

"Never liked him, anyway." (Y/N) told him, rising back up to press their lips tightly together, teeth digging into Robb's bottom lip and tugging lightly. "I have news, Robb."

"Can it wait?" Robb knew the answer but he hoped pulling (Y/N) closer would change his mind. (Y/N) chuckled again and moved his hips, a lazy smirk spreading across his face when Robb cursed softly under his breath and reached down to fumble with their pants. 

"No, My King."

"Gods, you're the worst."

A sadistic little bastard but Robb loved him anyway. (Y/N)'s amusement faded away and he inhaled heavily, planting his hands on the sides of Robb's head and staring down at him. The seriousness made Robb straighten up, despite their rather compromising position, and he nodded for (Y/N) to continue. "My father plans on betraying you, Robb. Your rejection of Walder Frey's girls gave way for Father. He plans on marrying one of his daughters for an alliance. He wants to kill you." Robb's blood ran icy cold. War always had its fair share of traitors and cowardly, slimy men.

"Are you certain?" Robb sat up in the bed, forcing (Y/N) to lean back and stand again. A traitor in their midst and Walder Frey's ego. Two problems Robb hardly had time to deal with. (Y/N) reached out, fingers dipping under Robb's chin and tilting his head up.

"Give me your command and I'll bring his head to you by early morrow." 

[rise-my-angel]

More headcannons about the Starks being doms!!! Pleaseeeee!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay starting off saying, all Stark men are doms, just in different ways. But let's start from the eldest down.

Brandon Stark:

Easily a hard dom. He was short tempered and described as very distinctly as having "wolfs blood". He loved fighting and always kept his sword sharp and with him. I have a distinct theory that he was a power bottom, preferring women on top of him but without actually giving them that control. Probably didn't talk a lot, and when he did was just purposely filthy. He also definitly liked to take things rough, considering Barbrey Dustin says this about him.

"I still remember the look of my maiden’s blood on his cock the night he claimed me. I think Brandon liked the sight as well. A bloody sword is a beautiful thing."

That is some hard dom behavior right there.

Eddard Stark:

If there was a Stark who was closest to a switch then the others, it would be Ned. But I think that is more because Ned is just rather vanilla in comparison. There is zero reason to believe Catelyn likes being in charge in the bedroom, but I also think Ned is far more of a soft dom. Not very talkative, probably more intimate, and he doesn't push Catelyns limits. But he does in fact, go hard.

The man gave her five children, and Catelyn literally implies in the first book that Ned fucked her so hard she was in that afterglow pain only a man who goes rough can give.

"Her loins still ached from the urgency of his lovemaking. It was a good ache."

Submissive men do not fuck so urgently they leave their wife laying in bed sore as fuck from getting pounded. Ned is probably the least kinky of the present Starks, but certainly still a soft dom.

Benjen Stark:

We see he has a very dominant personality, how easily he takes control of a conversation and establishes himself as someone to be listened too, but considering he clearly joined the Nights Watch at an early age, it's safe to say Benjen grew up a man whom was just not involved in sexual encounters.

If he did fuck, he'd likely be more of a soft dom with a side that likes to tease and be playful, but I assume he's either never or had very little sexual encounters to say for sure what he'd be like as one. But in his everyday personality, he certainly commands authority when necessary which is proof of dominance enough for me.

Robb Stark:

If there is the biggest example of a hard dom, it's Robb. This man takes you like a goddamn wolf. Flipping you onto your hands and knees, shoving you further into the furs of his bed, going fast enough you can't catch your breathe and rough enough that you feel him well into the next day. He will yank you up to his chest and purposely mutter depraved shit in your ear, mock you for your pleasure knowing it works you up more when he does it. Calling you derogatory sexual terms in bed to keep you in that subspace (he doesnt say them to hurt your feelings you know its all part of a kind of rougher roleplay essentially).

We've seen him take command in every situation. He knows how to seize control of a conversation even with opponents as difficult as Jaime Lannister. He doesn't falter, knowing he has everything in his favour and is sure of himself. Putting men twice his size like Greatjon Umber in his place but still managing to secure his upmost dedicated loyalty at the same time.

Robb probably the most forgets to be romantic in bed, but he makes up for it any other time. It's just in bed, when Robb is fucking you, he is rough and mean. You both know its with love and you both like it, but he is a true hard dom.

Jon Snow:

If his brother is the definition of a hard dom, Jon is the definition of a soft dom. Jon is incapable of being mean to you, truly being mean. He'll never whisper filth for the sake of it, never try to mock or embarrass you, will never use anything close to something derogatory towards you in what he calls you. Jon is passionate, raw, and very intimate about sex with you, and he needs a lot of both skin to skin contact and he needs to be able to kiss you as much as he wants.

But, he is also very controlling. More then he realizes. Jon is unpredictable in bed, because what he wants varies wildly. Sometimes he takes you slowly, but goes for hours to the point he is still inside you as you pass out, which he keeps going. Sometimes, he is rougher then he even realizes. Jon leaves bruises all the time from how tightly his hands grab at you alone, and he goes rough to the point sometimes you almost are pushed too far, but Jon somehow always ends up making you crave it.

You basically will never choose how the night goes. Jon always controls you in bed, and you let him. It works him up to an endless degree that you so completely trust him with you to the point he basically owns your autonomy in bed. He can convince you to do anything knowing you'd let him, and he won't give you what you want because he knows your needs and limits better then you do.

Jon is soft and loving with you in bed, but he is a dom through and through. Jon alone is the one in total control in the bedroom and he will always keep it that way.

[daniellewritesfr]

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.” 

[xxnymeriatargaryenxx]

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

[writingsofwesteros]

Hii! I love your fics and I was wondering if you could do a fic where the stark family gets really yandere over their new step mother after catelyn dies and bed marries her. Like all the children ( including Jon and theon ) are just obsessed with their new mother and ned is like sickly in love with her too ?

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

Ned did not think it was possible for him to love another; not after Cat. He had not expected to lose her nor had the children, he imagined. He had thought with the many heirs that littered his halls; the Lords would not speak of another wife. Nor did he think such intense emotions would be felt by him for his new bride. His thoughts were soon falling from his mind as the soft hands of hers moved to his larger, more muscled shoulders. “Your mind is too loud.” She sweetly whispered into his ear that nearly had Ned’s eyes falling shut. Ned only hummed; his head falling back as he looked up at her. Her hands slowly moved up and down his chest.

“You worry too much.” Ned could only silently agree, not that he would ever tell his pretty, new wife such things. “I know something that would quieten this mind..” Ned replied in his deep, gruff tone that sent shivers down her spine. “Do you?” His wife pressed another kiss behind his ear before moving down his neck. Ned greedily captured her soft lips with his own; his larger hand gently moving to the back of her head as the kiss only deepened. A soft gasp escaped her when the Lord pushed his tongue to dance with her own; her mouth watering taste was incredibly addicted. It was why he spent many nights between her legs for hours.

His free hand slowly moved up her side; the feel of her warmth and curves had his fat cock twitching in his breeches. “Ned…” She whispered as she leaned away; fighting to catch her breath as a soft pink blush moved over her cheeks. Their noses brushed together as he slowly moved to stand; his body crowding her with ease. A soft smile tugged on her lips as he leaned in once more. Unfortunately, the sounds of children came closer. The large, wooden door of their shared chambers were easily pushed open as Sansa and Arya led the pack. Gracefully, his wife removed himself from her side; arms already open to collect Rickon who was already racing ahead with laughter. 

His wife’s laughter joined Rickon's, a harmonious blend of joy that seemed to lighten the very air in the room. Just as she had brought such light to his life and thankfully had welcomed his children into her heart. Her fingers brushed through the boy’s hair and kept him close as Rickon only wrapped his arms around her tightly. She placed him with ease on her hip as his hand clutched the small wooden wolf that was his most prized possession. “I thought you were trying to sleep, hmm?” She whispered into his ear as Sansa gently reached for her hand to hold. “There is a storm.” Rickon whined into her ear as she looked over to Ned whose smile couldn’t help but grow wider at the sight in front of him.

“A storm, you say?” she murmured soothingly into Rickon's ear, her voice a comforting balm. “No storm can hurt you while we’re all together.” She began to play with Sansa’s hand as Robb stepped closer; pressing a soft kiss to her cheek before ruffling Rickon’s shaggy head and the boy could only giggle out before snuggling into her neck once more. “The storm is not trying to scare you.” Ned watched as she so sweetly comforted his child whilst his own desire to give her one of her own began to build. 

~

“Theon has never left her side this morning,” Jon complained as he lent against the wooden fence; the whipping of arrows flew close to his ear. Robb only chuckled as his arrow landed in the middle as it always did. “Are you jealous, brother?” He could not help but tease as he moved to reach for another set of arrows. His smirk only widened as he noticed the soft blush coming over Jon’s face. “Oh, you know you are her favourite.” Jon only glared in silence as the soft laughter of hers echoed in the courtyard once more. It was a familiar sound now. He watched as she softly ruffled Theon’s hair who ducked his head even as he leaned into the affectionate touch. 

It was not long before Ned returned from his morning duties and Jon could not keep his smirk off his face at the sight of Theon stepping away; if only slightly. “Ned…” She breathed out in greeting; her eyes full of warmth as the Lord of Winterfell stepped forward. His hand reached for hers instantly before pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand. She moved into his side; his presence was always a welcomed one especially as she still was not used to the cold air. Ned smirked into her hair and pressed another soft kiss as his larger hand moved up and down her back. “You have returned early.” His wife commented as he locked eyes with her; his figure towering over her which she would never admit to enjoying so much.

Ned only smirked; he could not possibly admit that he cut the hunt short to return to his new wife’s side. Not that his bannermen and Lords had judged him for it, in matter of fact, they had been brave enough to tease him. “I do believe the children are in the kitchens.” Ned whispered into her ear as the boys below continued their training. His sons had seemingly found a new source of energy and competitiveness, it seemed. “They wanted to bake a cake for you.” Ned continued as she hooked her arm around his. “I imagine we will find a mess,�� She giggled sweetly up at her husband but happiness completely wrapped around her. She had never thought she would be welcomed as she has done.

Ned's heart warmed at the sight of his wife’s smile, her joy contagious. He couldn’t resist another gentle kiss on her temple, savouring the simple pleasure of her presence. “I believe we should find them.” Ned whispered; his hand moving to her lower back protectively. “Goodbye boys,” She called over her shoulder as her smile only widened at them. The sight of the three of them trying to be in view as Theon’s arrow fell off the mark was amusing for Ned to witness as he gently guided his wife to the kitchens.

[cdragons]

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

Cries if there's too much pepper:

All of them, Sansa and Robb - these two will actually die if they have the slightest sense of heat to any food they try. Like their hair, they get it from their mother.

Robb will try so hard to pretend that he has any spice tolerance...he doesn't...he REALLY doesn't

This boy wants to impress you so badly while also dying and you are not being very helpful bc you keep laughing at how red his face gets

You didn't even put that much in, it was barely a dash of cayenne or one jalapeno seed and he will DIE

If you ever try to put spice in his dishes, he will look at you with the biggest look of betrayal

Redding Wedding what? Nope, the real, most unforgivable act of treason against this King of the North was putting a ghost pepper in his stew after he pissed you off and drinking all his water to make sure that there wasn't any left near him.

Are the two of you married? Does not matter - off to the dungeons with you.

Okay, not really, but he will be seriously pissed and have a huge pouty face for the rest of the week.

He feels even more betrayed when he sees Grey Wind sleeping next to you after you put the pepper in his food.

"Are you on my side or hers?" - Grey Wind is on Team Cuddles and Being Spoiled.

If you end up eating something too spicy for you, he WILL be the most insufferable person about it

Sansa is literally no different, if not worse, than her brother.

Everything that was written above -> multiply that by 10000 in terms of spice intolerance, and you get Sansa.

She does NOT care about impressing you with improving her spice tolerance.

You could try to convince her that spicy food is better for her body and there are a ton of health benefits, but you will FAIL

You once gave her a Cubanelle pepper (About 1,000 SHU) bc the only less spicy option was a bell pepper and bell peppers are only peppers in name and not in spirit

She did not react well

She RAN 🏃‍♀️ to the well and drank the water out of the pail.

...Was it bad that you laughed at her reaction? Yes

Would you do it again? Also, yes

Was it totally worth being banned from nighttime cuddles and kisses for an entire month?...Okay, maybe you won't do it again

You could make fun of her unseasoned potatoes and closer-to-water soup all you want. She is not interested in damaging her stomach lining and developing stomach cancer.

She WILL make fun of you if you end up eating something too spicy for YOU, and you let her because you love seeing her more childish smile and side.

Slightly Dying, but Otherwise Okay and Kind of Digs It:

Jon can eat spicy foods...theoretically.

He's eaten Wilding food and the rotten food from Castle Black -> compared to that, he can take a little heat.

He was wrong - He was so very, VERY wrong. Your level of heat and spice was something that only a demon could take.

Jon was convinced that you were part dragon bc he can't think of any other reason as to how and WHY you put yourself through this?

Eventually, he DOES develop a bit of spice tolerance, and you take full credit for it, especially because this means his taste palette is more on your level. You aren't as afraid of accidentally killing him with your cooking preferences.

But it ends up lowkey backfiring on him bc you won't stop sneaking spicy food into his meals, and sometimes Tormund and his brothers in Black will sneak a bite off his plate (no one died...everyone lives...shhhhhhhhh)

Sam is dead - he died, you killed him. Gilly is officially out for your blood, and little Sam is raised with the single goal of piercing you with a pointy stick bc you killed his dad.

Pyp and Edd are also lowkey dying. Still, they actually enjoy the heat and are always happy to taste test for your dishes...despite their bowels hating them for it

Grenn and Tormund fucking LOVE the heat. They can easily down bowl after bowl after bowl of your cooking.

Bran SHOULD not eat spicy food...but he does because it makes you so happy, and he will literally do anything for your smile and cuddles.

Like his love of climbing and scary stories, he honestly lives for the thrill of taking the heat.

All of his siblings are terrified he's going to get a stomach ulcer one day because he keeps adding more spice to his food, and they are ALL blaming you, and you're just like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

While he's traveling with Osha, Hodor, Rickon, and Reed Siblings, it's your cooking that helps keep them warm.

When he becomes the Three-Eyed Raven and King of the Seven Kingdoms, he and you will go to the kitchens to make your favorite dishes from your shared past because it brings a little of the old Bran back.

It's only around you that he can still smile and laugh, and you love him no matter what.

Love Spicy Food and Can ACTUALLY Take it

Arya LOVESSSSS the heat - All Day, Everyday Baby

While she was in Braavos and training in the House of Black and White, she sampled so many dishes and spices from the markets.

This opened a whole new world to her tastebuds, and when she returned to Winterfell - she still loved the food because it was all the food of her childhood, but it just tasted...boring.

You and her actually met while she was training in Braavos, and your family ran a spice stall in one of the markets.

You were fascinated by the girl and always offered a warm meal and housing if she ever needed it. While cooking for her, Arya would tell you stories about Ned and Jon and all her other siblings.

When she reunited with her family at Winterfell, she thought it was adorable how happy and excited you were to meet them. She also highly encouraged you to share one of your spiciest dishes with them.

Bran didn't have much of a reaction save for a small cough, but Jon immediately reached for his water while Sansa just fainted from the shock of the heat assault in her mouth.

Rickon is the only sibling who can actually eat your food and so he automatically becomes your favorite Stark after Arya.

Rickon and you met while traveling with your siblings (Meera and Jojen) to find Bran. You carried many foreign spices with you (for whatever reason).

Immediately, he was smitten with you because you were the youngest sibling around his age. Shaddydog also loved you from the beginning, which helped your case.

A lot of the spices you carried also had medicinal purposes, so you were in charge of cooking while Meera handled the weapons and Jojen helped guide Bran to the 3ER.

It was during the coldest and most freezing blizzard nights, you used one of your hottest spices to make a stew. It was a miracle by fate that Rickon LOVED it.

Since then, he's always begging you to put hotter spices in the meals, but you refuse bc your spices are expensive and because you don't want to accidentally kill the rest of the "Save The World" Gang.

Shaddydog is a huge issue when you're making food because he's very curious about all the different smells and tastes, and you have to keep booping his nose out of the way because you love adding garlic, and it's not good for canines to eat garlic and salt.

*BONUS*

Catelyn - cannot eat anything spicy for the life of her

Ned - same as his wife, tbh lol

[llonelygoddess]

How they react to...Finding out you're pregnant

Romantic Pairings: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Theon Greyjoy, Jaime Lannister, Khal Drogo, Jorah Mormont, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Gendry

Ned Stark: This man is over the moon when you tell him you’re expecting. He’s raised 5 already but for you he’d raise another 5 if possible lol He’s always got his hands on your belly and asking if you need anything. His favorite thing to do is talking to the baby later at night when you’re asleep, whispering how much it’ll be loved and cared for by the both of you.

Margaery Tyrell: Thrilled. You two definitely planned this pregnancy so she’s thrilled to hear you’ve finally conceived. She’s keeping Maesters around the clock just for you and making sure you have regular check ups. You both love looking at all the fabrics and books and toys you’ll be gifting your baby. She wants this child to have everything she had and more, so beware your child may be spoiled rotten lol

Pre Reek!Theon Greyjoy: Theon doesn’t even know what to say. He’s nervous about what that would mean for you and the child title wise. Would the babe be labeled a bastard? Would you be treated as a whore? The questions will drive him crazy if you don’t bring him back down to earth. As much as he’s there for you, you have to be there for him during this time.

Jaime Lannister: In the beginning he’s more worried than anything. Knowing how crazy Cersei is he has to hide you away, promising to be with you soon. Once he finds a way to sneak away to you for good, he’s all hands on deck. He’d learn to cook a bit, take up the cleaning, even learn to stitch a little to give the baby an embroidered blanket. It’s not what you expected but considering his other kids barely know him it makes sense how serious he is about this one. He wants to get it right this time.

Khal Drogo: He sees you as his goddess, mesmerized with the way you carry his child. He kisses your belly and announces it to the whole Khalasar. During your pregnancy he doesn’t baby you, finding beauty in your strength, but he is wary of you being around the other men. They’re rough and callous and you are soft and breakable, something that keeps him up at night. Whenever he goes out riding he always comes back with a gift that he presents to you in front of everyone.

Jorah Mormont: He never thought he’d be lucky enough to have children, especially with someone as special as you. He’s definitely crying when he hears the news. He can’t help it, a family of his own is all he’s ever wanted. Even knowing how strong you are, he’ll ask you to stay home and to let him do any and all work that needs to be done. He’s heard horror stories of pregnancies going wrong and he refuses to let anything happen to you.

Brienne of Tarth: Finding out you're pregnant would be the scariest moment of her life. Which isn't to say she doesn't want kids, but the world you live in wasn't ready for a relationship like yours. Two non-men finding love within each other wasn't accepted, let alone them raising a child together. Eventually, through many talks with you and Podrick, she calms down enough to enjoy this special moment in time with you.

Missandei: When Missandei first finds out, she's immediately in preparation mode. With the life she's lived she knows how cruel and evil life can be, so she takes it upon herself to make everything as perfect for you and the babe as possible. She’s asking Danaerys for healers and compiling blankets and toys from nearby towns. You’ll want for nothing with her by your side. When she’s not in crisis mode she’s sitting with you in bed fantasizing about the languages and history she’ll teach the baby.

Podrick: He gets so overwhelmed when you tell him he faints. Poor bb. When he wakes he asks if it was a dream and when you tell him no he kisses you. He’s another one that never really thought about having a family but he’s more than ready and capable of doing it. He’s always gushing about you and the baby to Brienne or really anyone who’ll listen. Loves to put his ear to your belly and just listen.

Gendry: He never planned to have kids so young, but when you told him about the baby he realized this was his moment to step up and be better. Being a Lord now he’s able to take care of you in ways he never thought he could. Giving you a handmaid and guards is just the beginning of how he wants to support you. He worries all nine months about whether he'll be good enough for your babe, so please rub his back and tell him he'll be the best dad ever. And he will.

[little-shadow-club]

*whispers softly* I will now proceed to eat this picture before i go insane over him

[claymoresword]

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.

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

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?”

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

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.”

[phantomqa]

Rip Brandon Stark you would have loved bouldering halls 😔🙏🏻🧗🏻‍♀️