#duncan x reader

[eroticanas]

dunk oral fixation. 😶

𑣲⋆｡˚ Duncan has always been a big man. he was a mere sixteen years old when he began to hit his head on the tops of doorways and not fit right into any of his shirts. he’s known it. but he always feels especially large when his hands are cupping your breasts, fingers warm, your skin dampening as his tongue circles around the hardened peaks of your nipples. he loves the pillowy softness of your tits just as much as he loves the wet warmth of your cunt. he’d lick you forever, taste the salt of your slick and be happy to do so; to him it is the only known nectar of the gods.

he wants your fingers in his mouth, opening him up and looking at his teeth like a bad dog, telling him what a good boy he is for being so patient for you. his cock is leaking, pressing against his breeches, desperate for your touch but too shy to ask for it.

he will gladly be your guardian knight, your loyal dog, your humble servant, your man. he lives to serve and is pleased by pleasing you.

[kwizycja]

Ser Duncan the tall x maid reader

“Shock” was a rather mild word to describe Duncan’s astonishment when he received the raven from Lyonel Barethon during one of his travels. No one had expected Lyonel Baratheon, the greatest bachelor in the Seven Kingdoms, to have become a father. Naturally, so as not to offend the laughing lord, Duncan decided to visit Storms End. Once there, Lyonel was waving the chubby fruit of his loins around left and right, telling everyone what a great knight Ormund would be. Lady Baratheon on the other hand was weak and exhausted after giving birth, so additional help was hired to care for the child - including you.

The first time Duncan saw you, he was instantly smitten by you in every possible way. Maybe “saw” is a bit of an exaggeration. The first thing he noticed while talking to Lyonel - after you had taken the baby from the lord—was the sweet smell of soap and water, that clung to your hair and body. You had not come from nobilty. Your hands bore some calluses of laundry soap and broom handles and your shoes scrufferd quietly across marble floors. But your smell brought comfort not only to Duncan but what it seemed to the little Ormund too. Only 3 moths old, gurgled whenever you entered the room. His tiny hands would flail with delight as you lifted him gently from his father arms. He found comfort in the rythm of your voice, in the way you hummed lullabies when you put him to sleep with wetnurse.

After that incident, Duncan decided to stay at Storms End for a while longer. When you were working in the laundry and had your hands full of bed linen, he would open the door for you or try to take it from you so that you wouldn’t have to carry such heavy loads. Whenever you were struggling to sew up a toy that the little lord had torn apart, he’d quickly appear at your side with a sewing kit. On one occasion, when you nearly slipped whilst carrying a bowl of bathwater, he quickly caught you and asked, ‘Are you all right, m'lady?’. You could feel your heart beating faster. The only problem? You knew what most knights expected of maids, and how it usually ended. You didn’t want to end up like the other maids – with huge, pregnant bellies, thrown out of the castle simply because some knight or lord had lusted after them. This Ser Duncan the Tall might have been nice, but a knight is a knight.

It was a clear, golden afternoon, and the sun was casting patches of light on the water as you knelt by the stream, scrubbing the bed linen in the cold current. You were wearing a dirty apron, your sleeves rolled up, and a gentle breeze brushed the strands of hair that had slipped out from under your cap. Then you heard the steady crunch of boots on the gravel, which made you look up. A few paces away stood Ser Duncan, the sun’s rays glinting off his armour. His gaze, as kind as ever, held a quiet warmth – though you never quite understood why he looked at you that way.

‘Ya shouldn’t be here on your own,’ he said in a sweet, concerned voice. ‘Let me help you, m'lady.’ He quickly knelt down beside you and began rinsing the laundry in the stream.

"No, no, there is no need" you quickly responded and tried to take the liniens away from him.

"No need? A lady scrubbing liniens alone by a creek - dangerous place for a slip or even worse" - Duncan despite your asurment still tries to help - "At least maybe ya could let me stand guard. I can help ya bring it back to the castle... "

"First of all ser, I am no lady, i not a high born, I'm a maid and I can do my work just fine" Knight immediately stops when he hears your hiss and sees some blood coming out from your had due to intense scrubing. In the blink of the eye he takes the cloth from your bleeding hand, dunks it into the water, beginning to scrub with surprising dexterity for someone with gauntlets on.

“Sir, you really don’t have to; it could damage your armour,” you say, a little concerned and annoyed at the unyielding knight.

“My armour has seen worse than a bit of steam and water. But I appreciate your concern, m’lady.” Duncan clearly doesn’t sense your annoyance and carries on doing your work for you. “You know, you’re more worried about my armour than your own apron. It’s soaked. You should be careful not to catch a chill.”

“It’s been through worse,” you say, trying to wring out your dress so it wouldn’t be quite so wet.

“I could say the same about my armour,” the tall knight chuckles. “Still, you ought to dry off. We wouldn’t want our little lord’s favourite maid catching a cold.”

You laughed a little at that; you always had a soft spot for little Ormund whenever he was mentioned. Duncan’s light blue eyes seemed to shine when he heard your laugh.

When the work was done and it was time to return to the castle, Duncan insisted on carrying all the cloths himself. The walk back to the keep was not a long one, and they walked in silence, broken only by the rhythmic clang of his armour. From time to time, he would glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as if checking whether your hand had stopped bleeding. Your laughter was sincere, it’s true, but even in the warm sunlight he notices the tremor in your arm – that subtle shiver you probably didn’t even notice yourself. He wants to offer you his cloak, he really doe. It would be a romantic gesture that would increase his chances of seeing you again, but there’s one problem. His cloak is old, dirty and, Seven forbid, probably reeks of his sweat horse. No woman would consider such a gesture romantic or chivalrous.

‘Would you like me to escort you to the maester? Someone must tend to your hand, m'lady...’ – Duncan tries to offer his help, hoping to spend more time with the sweet smelling and lovely looking lady.

“I’m feeling quite fine, kind sir. The bleeding has stopped and it doesn’t hurt as much as it did before. And… thank you for your help. I really do appreciate it.” You smile and try to pull out a few coins to pay the knight for his help. Duncan, embarrassed, refuses and says he would never accept money for helping a lady in need.

“Well, in any case, thank you for your help. I hope we’ll meet again soon, ser,” you say, smiling at the giant of a man, and walk away. As you turn to leave, you notice that the knight is still looking at you, but he quickly looks away. You chuckle to yourself and think that perhaps not all knights are so bad after all.

Autors note:

That's my first ff here like ever. I Hope you guys like it, maybe i will make a part two if there will be a reaquest or at least 5 hearts xD

[julez-5]

HYMN TO VIRGIL PROLOUGE—Duncan the Tall

Duncan the Tall x Targ!reader

summary: The tourney of Ashford is approaching, and you are worried your eldest brother will disappoint the youngest.

words: 550

cw: MDNI 18+ canon typical violence, death, mentions of targcest, opposite of slow burn, eventual smut, Maekar’s daughter!reader, reader has violet eyes, but other than that no physical description is used, lmk if I missed any

Next | series masterlist

The mace collided with the shield splitting it half, as the man fell to the ground once more. back. Daeron, laid sprawled back staring up at you. He had yet to start drinking yet, but now wished he had rather than being in his current state of hung over, "That's the third shield you've broken," he gasped out trying to catch his breath.

"Better the shield that your skull," you countered. You lowered your weapon extending a hand down to help your elder brother to his feet, "You're getting better you'll be tourney ready in no time," you joked, both knowing he had held no chance of winning.

"You should just compete instead of me. We both know it would bring you great joy to compete, and you hold a better chance of winning," he suggested as he stood back to his full height.

"I think our father's heart would stop if I competed. Plus, I have no interest in jousting. It is fun to watch, but not for me," you told him.

"Why are we training hand-to-hand again?" he asked, watching you grab another shield for him.

"Because in case you are forced to fight someone hand-to-hand. Egg is very excited to squire for you and I don't want him to be disappointed when he realizes how much of a shit knight you are even after training with a master of arms."

You went went one more round ending the same way, Daeron on his back as you shattered yet another shield. "I yield. I'm done...I need a drink to continue," the elder said he stumbled back into the castle, causing you to roll your eyes,

Your father, Maekar, who had been watching for quite some time now approached. Your back was turned to him as you picked the weapons from the ground, re-racking them, "You shouldn't humiliate your brother," he called out, though a small grin crossed his lips as you turned to face him.

"He's to be my husband one day should I not start trying to get him to act apprioapte now?" you ask, with a shrug, ignoring the small taste of disdain the thought always left in your mouth.

Neither of you truly wanted to wed the other, but Maekar did not want you, his eldest daughter, to go far. So, alas Daeron and yourself would marry eventually, but both hoped it wouldn't be for a long, long, long time.

Or unless he managed to drink himself to death for first, and then you were sure to be married to the Aerion. Which sounded like a worse option to you.

The father smiled sadly, "I am glad you have decided to come with us to the tourney," he said changing the subject.

"I would never miss a chance to watch my brothers be humiliated by hedge knights and men they deem lesser than them," you told him, a wide grin filling your face at the thought.

Maekar chuckled slightly, shaking his head, "Why don't we go in and break fast. The rest of your siblings will be up soon," he said, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to bring you inside. "How did you get Daeron up so early?" he then asked.

You chuckled at the question before looking up at him your violet eyes filled with mischief, "I dumped water of him and drug him out here."

"A mace is my weapon of choice," he told you as you entered inside the castle.

"I know. That's why I chose it," you replied. He grinned down at you pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

a knight of the seven kingdoms tags: @kyvillasstuff @goldengirl86 @scarletwolfxox @witch-of-letters @confusedwhitegirl10

general taglist: @xkatherinexo @sacha1slytherin @qardasngan @bl3ssedp0etry @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @someonehereisstupid @honeybylove @zealousdazementality @shinewarrior01 @shipperqueen93 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @sw0zzle

if you would like to join the tag list for future stories feel free to drop a comment :)

[wilderness-bites]

Just watched A Knight of the seven kingdoms. Loved it. So yeah, here is this.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You were from house Targaryen, Baelor's daughter so were attending the tourney in ashford meadow with your family. You were wondering around when you bumped into a wall of a man. He seemed terribly flustered with having bumped into a princess like yourself. He apologized profusely until you assured him it was quite alright, no harm done.

Gods he was a cutie. That light brown hair that looked almost blonde maybe a strawberry blonde even in that sun. Beautiful blue eyes, that boyish smile with imperfect teeth. He was a sight truly, softer features paired with a lumbering 6'11 height.

You questioned if he wanted to walk with you, keep you "safe" from any other mishaps, perhaps it was just a ruse to talk to him but it was attractive how he nodded and swore your safety with him. So noble and set to be good.

You felt yourself feeling giddy when he gently took your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, so gentle and sweet.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You dressed more like a common folk, covering your hair with a cloak so you could forgo the social status for a moment. It turned into the best choice of your life, he relaxed even more around you. He would share his drink with you, share his food with you. It felt like a date even if you knew it would end when you had to return to your world.

But for now, you would enjoy it. Feeling like just a girl again instead of a Princess. Your father couldn't even get too mad, you had found a knight to keep you safe while you explored. Maybe not a sworn knight but that made it better, did it not, he wasn't sworn to keep you safe but he was.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

He was fun to talk to, be around. He had such a shining gold heart to him. Not to mention he was strong and was protective because he truly sought to keep you safe not because he thought you were weak.

You were able to talk freely to him, and he didn't judge you. It felt so lovely to have someone to just talk to and not have to worry about courtly rules or how you were precived.

[cupidrream]

A shield against the crowd.

Ser Duncan the tall x female!reader

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The tourney grounds at Ashford were a kaleidoscope of noise, color, and shifting bodies. Banners snapped in the brisk wind, hawkers screamed themselves hoarse over the price of meat pies, and the heavy thud of destriers’ hooves vibrated straight through the soles of your boots.

It was exhilarating, but it was also suffocating.

You stood on the edge of the main thoroughfare, wedged between a rowdy group of local smallfolk and a merchant's cart laden with casks of ale. Next to you, Egg—his straw hat pulled low to obscure his shaved head—was practically vibrating with excitement. He stood on his tiptoes, trying to peer over the wall of shoulders to see the squires preparing the lances.

"Ser Duncan! Look!" Egg shouted, pointing a small finger toward the eastern lists. "That’s the Fossoway crest! The red apple, not the green. Do you think he'll joust in the first tilt?"

Standing behind you both, looming like an oak tree among saplings, was Ser Duncan the Tall. He shifted his weight, his massive frame a natural barrier against the chaotic flow of the crowd. Dunk squinted toward the pavilions, his honest, weathered face crinkling in thought.

"Might be, Egg," Dunk said, his deep voice rumbling right above your ear. "But don't go wandering off to find out. Keep close. If I lose you in this press, I'll never find you again."

"I'm not a babe," Egg muttered, though he obediently took a half-step closer to Dunk’s side.

You smiled at the familiar bickering, but the warmth of the moment was quickly swallowed by a sudden, violent surge in the crowd. A roar went up from the stands—someone important had just ridden into the yard—and the thick sea of humanity buckled. A wave of spectators pushed backward to clear a path for a mounted knight's retinue, and the squeeze became instantly perilous.

A burly man in greasy leather stumbled back, his elbow nearly catching you in the jaw. You gasped, stepping back into the limited space behind you, but there was nowhere to go. You were about to be trampled or pinned against the rough, splintered wood of the merchant's cart.

Before panic could fully take root, a massive presence enveloped you from behind.

A large, calloused hand slid smoothly onto your waist.

The grip was gentle, careful not to bruise or alarm you, and entirely respectful of your space—yet it possessed a quiet, unyielding firmness that brooked no argument from the crowd around you. With a seamless, fluid motion, Dunk used that single hand to guide you backward and flush against his chest, completely lifting you out of harm's way and into the secure pocket of his shadow.

Your breath hitched. The sudden, overwhelming proximity to him sent a shockwave through your senses. Every bone in your body felt as though it had instantly melted into warm wax.

Dunk planted his boots and braced his broad shoulders, effectively forming a human fortress around you and Egg. The men who had been shoving a moment ago collided with Dunk's back and sides, only to bounce off him like water against stone. He didn't budge an inch.

"You alright?" Dunk asked, his voice dropping an octave, meant only for you.

You looked up, your back pressed securely against his tunic. Because of his towering height, you had to tilt your head all the way back. He was looking down at you, his hazel eyes filled with genuine, fierce concern. His hand was still resting on your waist, the heat of his palm burning right through the fabric of your kirtle.

"I—yes," you managed to breathe out, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs, though no longer from fear of the crowd. "Yes, thank you, Ser Duncan."

A faint, endearing flush crept up Dunk’s neck, blooming across his cheeks as he realized he was still holding you. He didn't immediately pull his hand away, though. Instead, his thumb gave a tiny, almost imperceptible soothe against your hip before he slowly, reluctantly let his arm drop to his side.

"Good," he cleared his throat, looking away hastily to glare at a nearby drunkard who was getting too close. "Just... stay right there. Behind me. Both of you."

Egg glanced back, looking between you and the towering hedge knight with a knowing, entirely too-shrewd smirk on his young face. "Yes, Ser," Egg piped up, practically dripping with mock obedience. "We'll stay right where it's safe."

Dunk nudged the boy's shoulder with his boot, his blush deepening, but he didn't move an inch from where he stood. And as the crowd continued to roar and surge around you, you leaned just a fraction closer into Dunk's side, perfectly content to let the rest of the world rush by.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Here it is my fist a knight of the seven kingdoms fanfic, I have been rewatching it recently and I’m absolutely fallen in love with Duncan again.

(I just have something for big man)

I hope you all enjoy it!

[samthegreenapologist]

The angst with these babies is killing me, could you do pregnancy fluff with Dunk please?

a/n: I suppose there has been a alarming amount of miscarriage Drabbles in theses past 48 hours😬. Hopefully sweet goofy Duncan will make up for that!

How Many?

Modern Duncan The Tall x F!reader

wc: 659

warnings: fluff ahead!

“Christ” you hiss as the gel was squirted onto your belly. Dunk instantly got closer than he was before, his hand that had been nervously fiddling in his pocket was now at the back of your neck rubbing soothingly against the top of your spine.

He was so nervous, honestly anxious was a better word for it most likely because he was running you up the bloody wall with how concerned he was with everything. He was the one who got you this appointment, apparently the scheduler was just as irritated as you were with his constant worrying that she made a slot magically open up for you to come in and have your first scan.

The at home tests had all been strong positives and the morning sickness was very much happening so you were pretty confident you were pregnant and eveeybrinf was fine and that you could wait the two weeks. That hadn’t convinced dunk at all!

“Careful with er.” He warned the ultrasound tech.

“it’s just cold Duncan, settle down.” You pulled his hand out from behind your neck and squeezed his big fingers making him look at you, and hopefully belive you as well. “I’m telling you,” you smile and kiss his knuckles once. “Everything’s alright, I can just tell.” You turn your attention back to the screen as noise, a heartbeat, starts coming out.

The women smirks a bit. “Yes…she’s right, they look perfectly healthy.”

This time it was your eyes that got wide, Duncan focused solely on the screen and the relief that hearing a heartbeat finally gave him.

“They? Did you say they…you said they-“ she shifted the device on your barely swelled stomach and the two distinct heartbeats became clear.

“it’s twins!” She announced and you felt Duncan’s hand flex against yours as you looked up at the florencent lighting. Two was alot…your lot felt that there was one the one in there through your maternal instinct.

The comforting grip Duncan kept on your hand started to wane and the nurse, who was far less in her head than you were noticed first.

“you look pale lad…feeling okay?”

Dunk blinked, mouth open a bit like he had to focus on breathing and so using his nose wouldn’t do.

“Dunk?” You reached for his hand again and felt it was all clammy. “No-don’t do that.” You started to scoot over right away. “Duncan you can’t go faint during my first ultrasound!” The woman quickly grabbed his back and urged him to sit on the edge of the exam table.

“yer actually pregnant?” He mumbled having trouble keeping his eyes on you. “And-goes there is two of em in there?” It was a lot of process to be fair.

“yeah,” you pushed his hair back some and the nurse rushed to get him some juice and a ice pack for the back of his neck.

Dizzily his big hand reached for your stomach and rubbed at it, not caring that the sticky gel was still on it.

“it’s your fault you know.” You tell him after he finishes the entire apple juice. “Probably have two because you just keep on going…” you lowered your voice and wrapped your wraps around his shoulders.

“The books don’t make it seem like that’s what causes twins.” He half laughed in your ear. It made you smile because if he was back to talking about what he’s learned during the past most of ravenously consuming baby booms than he was likely out to fainting territory!

“I love you, you and both of em.” He said rubbing the back of your head and kissed your shoulder.

You leaned a bit further into the space between his knees to peck his lips and rub your nose against his for a moment after. A little affection you’d just started doing one day with him.

“They love you too” you sigh contently at his warm hand still stroking the stretched skin

Dunk Masterlist, Prompt list/Prompt Masterlist

Lmk if you want to be added to a dunk taglist

[informalcrybaby]

The Inn at Dusk

Duncan The Tall x Reader

You had only wanted a warm meal and a roof over your head.

The inn was crowded, loud with laughter and the smell of ale, but it was dry, and after three days on muddy roads, that was enough. Duncan sat across from you at a rough wooden table, hunched over his supper. Even seated, he seemed impossibly large, his broad shoulders blocking half the hearth behind him.

You caught him glancing at you over the rim of his mug and when your eyes met, he looked away first. That alone made you smile.

Dunk was brave enough to charge armored knights but completely helpless whenever you looked at him for too long.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked gruffly.

“I’ve hardly touched my food because you keep staring at me.”

He nearly choked on his ale.

“I wasn’t staring.”

“You were.”

His ears turned pink and you enjoyed that far more than you should have.

The evening wore on. Dunk eventually disappeared upstairs to see about the rooms while you lingered near the hearth. The common room had thinned considerably, leaving only a handful of travelers and locals.

That was when a man slid onto the bench beside you.

He smelled strongly of sweat and sweet wine.

“You shouldn’t be sitting alone, sweetling.”

You immediately scooted away. Trying to put as much distance as possible between you and the stranger.

“I’m not alone.”

The man laughed.

“Looks alone to me.”

You stood, intending to walk away, but he caught your wrist and held it firmly.

The room suddenly felt much quieter and exponentially smaller.

“It would be in your best interest to let go now.”

“Now, there’s no need—”

His words cut off as a shadow fell across the table. The man’s grip vanished so quickly you almost stumbled.

Duncan stood behind him and the look on his face was murderous. You had seen Dunk angry before. You had seen him fight but this was different. There was no shouting or threats. Just a towering wall of a man staring down at someone half a foot shorter than him.

The drunk swallowed hard as he put his hands up in surrender.

“I was only talking with the lady.”

Dunk folded his arms at the same time his jaw set firmly.

“Then you’ve finished.”

The statement was simple and final. You watched as the man looked from Dunk’s face to the size of his fists and wisely decided his evening plans had changed. He hurried away without another word.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then Dunk turned toward you.

“Are you well?”

His voice was softer now. The stark switch made something in the bottom of your stomach flutter.

You nodded and attempted to get ahold of yourself.

“Thanks to you.”

His gaze dropped briefly to where the man had grabbed your wrist and you saw the muscle in his jaw tighten.

“I should’ve stayed down here.”

“You can’t watch me every second Duncan.”

“No.”

The answer came surprisingly fast.

“No, I cannot.”

Something in the way he said it made your stomach flutter again. You pressed a hand to your bodice to soothe the strange feeling.

The noise in the inn became distant as you looked up at him and he looked down at you. For a heartbeat, neither of you moved and you became acutely aware of how close he was. How warmth seemed to radiate from him. How carefully he always treated you, despite how those enormous hands could probably life you clear off the ground.

“Dunk…”

His throat bobbed.

“Aye?”

You weren’t entirely sure what you meant to say and apparently neither was he. The silence stretched until Duncan awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“We should lay down.”

Your laugh broke the tension easily.

Duncan grinned sheepishly.

“That wasn’t what I meant to say.”

“I know.”

His smile softened and for a moment, he simply looked at you and you could feel a shift. He wasn’t looking at you as a traveling companion or someone he was responsible for protecting. His was looking directly into your heart and somehow that felt more dangerous.

“Goodnight my lady,” he said quietly.

“Goodnight, Ser Duncan.”

The smile that spread across his face made your heart skip.

As he followed you toward the stairs, you couldn’t help thinking that whatever was growing between the two of you was becoming harder and harder for either of you to ignore.

[entitled-fangirl]

Highborn!reader that has a huge crush on Duncan so she starts slipping him letters.

But Duncan doesn’t know how to read.

He has no idea what she’s trying to say to him but he doesn’t have the heart to admit he was never taught.

And she trusted these notes to him specifically— he can’t ask another to read them out for him.

He’s now clueless to her declarations of love he has in his satchel. And she’s clueless as to why he isn’t acting on it.