Modern!robb - Tumblr Posts

Literally me when Bel posts anything Robb Stark Related

"You're A Mean One, Mr. Stark" - Modern!Robb Stark x Wife!Reader

a/n: a request from @toms-cherry-trees!!! i love you so much, mars, hope you enjoy this little piece! 🩷

Summary: You do your best to get your Grinchy husband into the holiday spirit.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, oral m receiving, breeding kink, p in v sex

Word Count: 1,210 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

For someone who is from the Christmas capital of Westeros, Robb Stark hates the holidays. He hates the sheer amount of tourists who flock to Winterfell, the extra hours he has to work, the traffic pileups. He finds the music entirely cliche, thinks that most of the mall Santas are probably pedophiles, and hates having to put the lights up every single damn year. The only bright side for him? How happy you, his beloved wife, get during the holiday season. You adore your little holiday traditions - buying an ugly sweater each year, doing a family Christmas card with the two of you, the kids, and Greywind, leaving milk and cookies out for Santa. You absolutely adore Christmas and have raised your and Robb’s kids to feel quite similarly. So, he puts on a stiff upper lip and every year, he manages to eke through the holidays by the skin of his teeth.

This year, however, things seem slightly different. He’s more stressed than usual, being up for a huge promotion and having to work longer hours than ever. It’s also his first holiday season without his father, Ned having passed away earlier in the year. If there ever was a Christmas where Robb earned the right to be a Grinch, it was this one.

And you? You have the perfect plan to get him into the holiday spirit and bring some cheer back into his life.

Robb has never been able to resist you in fancy lingerie, after all.

So, you send the kids over to Jon and Ygritte’s, the latter giving you a rather mischievous smirk, having gone shopping with you to pick up the perfect set, while Jon just looks on in confusion. She rolls her eyes at her long-term boyfriend, slapping the back of his head while telling him he knows nothing, causing you to giggle at the look of offense on his face. You kiss little Ned and Rickard goodbye, waving them off as they climb into Jon’s truck, ready for a weekend with their uncle. Gods, you hope Jon doesn’t send them back all sugared up like last time.

When they’ve pulled out of the driveway, you close the door, smirking to yourself as you race to get everything ready for when Robb gets home. Scented candles, his favorite dinner, all of it. Robb typically does all the cooking - wearing only those gray sweatpants of his that make him look so fucking irresistible - but today? You want to let him relax.

So, the minute he walks through the front door, taking off his jacket, he smells his favorite food, following his nose toward the kitchen, grinning like a fool. He’s always been a sucker for your cooking. But when he gets to the dining table, it isn’t the food which catches his eye.

It’s you, dressed in a little red number with white trim. A naughty Mrs. Claus, if you will, lips painted red and a smirk on your face as you beckon him closer with a curved finger. And what choice does Robb have but to obey? He walks toward you, his jaw hanging open as you sit up on your knees, giggling.

“Welcome home, Mr. Stark,” you coo, “You’ve been awfully Grinchy this Christmas, so I think, as your missus, it’s my duty to instill some holiday cheer in you.”

He lets out a groan as your fingers tangle in his auburn curls, pulling him into a heated kiss, your tongues moving against each other as he quickly moves to get rid of his shirt. You eye him greedily, nails running down his chest before moving to the waistband of his trousers, undoing them with ease, palming at his cock over the fabric of his boxers. No matter how many times you and Robb make love, you’re always amazed by how big he is, how long and thick he is, and immediately think about the way he makes you feel when he’s inside you.

But as he moves to rid you of your red lacy panties, you shake your head, chiding playfully, “Not today, Robbie. Today, I’m taking care of you.”

He watches as you mouth at his cock over the fabric of his boxers, groaning as he tosses your little Santa hat aside, fingers twisting in your hair. You brace your palms against his thighs, tugging his underwear down and taking him into your mouth, moaning against his cock. You give him the tiniest of nods and he knows what you’re telling him to do. Robb slowly begins rocking his hips against you, admiring the sight of your crimson lips wrapped around him, the feeling of your hot, wet mouth as he fucks it being almost too much to bear. And gods, the way you’re looking up at him, your eyes sparkling with desire.

Every day, he’s amazed by the fact that he wants you just as bad as the day he met you. And he knows he always will. He feels himself getting close and pulls away from you, grinning at the little pout you let out.

“Robbie!”

“Want to cum inside you, baby,” he murmurs, pulling you close to him, bending you over the dining table. He pushes your hair away away from the nape of your neck, kissing your sensitive skin as he moves your panties aside, teasing your pussy, grinning at the fact that you’re wet just from sucking him off, “We said we wanted to try for baby number three, didn’t we?”

You nod, barely able to hold back your beam of excitement as you feel him enter you with one smooth thrust. Robb fucks you like he hates, you, his grunts and growls being almost feral in nature as he ruts into you. Gods, you’ve always loved how primal he gets when he’s like this. He’s every bit the wolf starks are said to be, and you’re all too happy to take it. He’s so big, filling you up perfectly with each snap of his hips, his cock brushing against your sweet spot every fucking time. You move your fingers to circle your clit, whining when he smacks your hand away only to do the job himself.

Your eyes roll back, toes curling as he pounds into you, one hand playing with you while the other holds your hips in place as he takes complete control.

“Feel so good for me, baby,” he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his beard tickling your skin, “You gonna let me eat that pretty little pussy after this? Gonna let me fill you up again and again?”

“Fuck, yes, Robb, please!” Your whines grow louder and louder in tandem with your pleasure, growing to a crescendo as you spill yourself on his cock, feeling him reach his own end a few moments after.

The two of you stay like that for a long moment, breathing heavily. Robb turns you around to face him, his lips capturing yours for a long moment before he speaks again.

“How long till the kids get home?”

“Jon took them for the weekend.”

The look on his face is downright wolfish as he hardens against your thigh once again, a promise of a very happy holiday season to come.