Robb Stark X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

hiii i see you lurking :3 miss u love u muah muah muah!!!!

I don't know what you're talking about, my love O//W//O, but please enjoy this little drabble dedicated to another one of our brainchild. Happy 1K followers, my love! It's been so wonderful to see how much your blog has grown and it brings me so much joy to know that others see what an incredible writer you are.

"It's not fair!" Sansa insisted to her parents, stomping one foot on the stone floor, emphasizing her anger and ire. "Birdy is MY friend, not Robb's! He can't keep trying to steal her!"

"She's not an actual bird, sister," Robb quipped back, annoyed that his younger sister was making such a pointless fuss. "And I wasn't stealing. We were simply talking."

Lord Eddard Stark was exhausted after a long day of acting as the high lords of his ancestral home. The last thing he had expected was his solar to be barged in by his eldest daughter, demanding that his eldest son and her older trueborn brother be barred from speaking from her favorite handmaiden. However, it seemed that dealing with Robb was going to be as much as a dread, if not more than Sansa, if his tense shoulders and scowl were anything to go by.

It wasn't that Ned Stark wasn't grateful for your presence, however strange the circumstances of your arrival were. It was highly unusual for a bastard of a noble to come to be the handmaid of a highborn lord's daughter such as Sansa, even more so when your sire was none other than Roose Bolton himself. Truly, he was shocked when Sansa begged him and his wife to promote you to such a high rank. But he couldn't deny how happy you've made his daughter.

"Look, Father!" she was beaming the other morning when she came down to the Great Hall to break fast with the family. "Do you notice anything different today?" Now, Ned loved all his children, but he was the first to admit that he was as ill-informed as any other man regarding matters of women and young girls. However, looking up from his plate, he was surprised to indeed have noticed something different about his daughter's appearance today. "You've done something with your hair," he replied, inwardly delighted with himself from how Sansa smiled wider. "It looks lovely, dear." "Isn't it beautiful? Birdy brushed and braided it for me!" Sansa went to her seat. "She found wild blue roses the other day and thought of braiding them into my hair today!" "It looks wonderful, Sansa," Catelyn Stark nodded. Despite her distaste for her husband's decision to take in Roose Bolton's bastard, she couldn't deny that the girl was good at her work. "Birdy said she could go to the market at Winter Town tomorrow. But she said that she'd wait until after my lessons with Septa Mordane if I wanted to come with her," Sansa looked at her parents with pleading eyes. "May I please go?" Catelyn nodded, "Robb, would you mind escorting your sister and Lady Snow to the marketplace later after your lessons with Rodrick?" Sansa spoke for her brother. "There's no need for Robb to join us. Birdy already asked Jon to do it." "I'll go," Robb interjected, ecstatic with glee at the idea of walking around town with you. He looked back to see your reaction. As usual, you weren't paying attention to anyone and lost in your little world. You seemed to be talking to a new bird today, the little creature cheerily twittering into your ear. Robb spent the rest of the meal lost in his daytime dreams of you, utterly oblivious to the growing irritation of his younger sister.

Sansa pouted and crossed her arms, "You already have Jon, and Theon follows you everywhere! Why do you need to talk to Birdy for anything anyway? She doesn't like to talk about swords or hunting..." She turned to their father. "He even went so far as to pull her into a corner after we broke fast!"

"WHA-!" Robb balked, and the tips of his ears went red. "I did NOT--!"

"Robb," their father, Ned Stark, turned to his son with stern eyes. While Ned was confident that Robb knew better than to act so dishonorably, he wasn't blind to how quickly his eldest son and heir had taken to Sansa's new handmaiden. "Is what your sister speaks true?"

Robb rubbed his eyes and loudly sighed out his frustration. He loved his sister as much as anyone else in his family, but gods above, she could be so much. Really, how can you ever manage to keep your patience with such a tiresome girl he'll never understand?

"No," he firmly replied. "I was merely informing her that I would be joining Jon in escorting her and Sansa to the market."

"I already told you that you don't have to come!" Sansa growled. "Every time Birdy and I talk, you have to come in and interrupt!"

"You spend so much time together. Have you ever considered that perhaps I'm rescuing her from you?" Robb muttered, just low enough for his sister to hear but not his father.

"I heard that, Robb," their father grumbled. Ned looked like he had aged ten years since his children came in and interrupted his peace. "Sansa, you know better than to falsely accuse your brother like that. Robb, please refrain from any impulsive actions. As the next Lord of Winterfell, you need to remember your differing stations."

"Yes, Father," the siblings grumbled in unison. But anyone could tell that this issue was far from over.

"Honestly...! Robb can be so annoying!" Sansa and you have just returned from the market stand with your favorite spinner. What should have been a relaxing walk turned out to be a tiresome activity with the addition of not one but both of her older brothers. "He always has to put his nose into everything!" She waited for you to agree, but you were silent. Turning to look at you, her frustration grew when she realized you weren't paying attention. "Are you even listening to me?"

You finally looked up from your knitting and impassively blinked. "Not really...why? Was it important?"

Sansa sighed before sitting beside you. You and her were sitting underneath the Weirwood Tree, your favorite spot in the Godswood. "As your lady, everything I say to you is important. You're my handmaid; you should know this..."

You dispassionately shrugged. "I'm still not very familiar with the ways of highborn nobles."

Sansa indignantly huffed before pouting. You gave a small smile before going back to your knitting.

“Who do you like better, me or Robb?”

You look at her lady in surprise and confusion. “Your brother? Lord Stark’s firstborn?”

Sansa nods. “Yes, now tell me, do you like me or him better?”

You cocks your head to the side. “Why would that matter, my lady?”

“Because it does!” Sansa rolls her eyes. "He's always interrupting us and trying to flirt with you!"

You carefully think about it. You hadn’t really spent much time with Lord Robb. You're more likely to play with the little ones or Jon, which is common ground for both of you being bastards. In the beginning, Robb tended to avoid you whenever he could. But now he tends to single you out whenever he sees you and his sister talking. “Your brother has been very kind to me. He is certainly very nice. But I haven’t spent much time with him to know. When he does try to talk to me, I find it sometimes difficult to talk with him.”

Sansa’s eyes widen. “He hasn’t been rude to you like Theon, has he?” She shook her head.

“No, just…hard to talk. Not much to say from me to him I suppose.”

“Is that how it is with me?”

You turn to Sansa. “No, I find it very easy to talk to you, my lady. You are very different from me, but I like our discussions very much.”

Each word you spoke was true. Many would consider your Lady Sansa, a silly little girl who believed in too many stories about pretty princes and great heroes. But you knew true evil - you were born from it and was raised with it looming over your shoulder for your entire life. Snasa may have been naive, but she was a kind girl who still saw the beauty in her world. A beauty you couldn't see, but could appreciate.

You and her were very different, but you enjoyed spending time with her. It was apparent she was very proud of her noble birth, but you never felt uncomfortable. In fact, you felt as relaxed with her as you do with Maester Luwin, going so far as to speak informally with her without any other company.

Sansa smiles and hugs you. “I think so, too. So you do like me more than Robb.”

You think and nod. “Yes, I am very confident to say that is the case.”

Jon loved Robb - really, he did. But gods above, his brother could be a brat. "Future lords aren't supposed to sulk."

Robb growled, "I am not sulking."

"Pouting, then..." Jon muttered, going back to aim his arrow at the target. But the arrow flew over the wall when a stray snowball hit his head. Jon turned to his brother, annoyed. "If you want to get to know her so bad, why don't you talk to her without Sansa? You might stand a better chance than just pining after her all day."

"I am not - oh, fuck off," Robb went back to hacking the straw dummy before him. He didn't want to admit it, but Jon was right. It didn't take a genius to guess that his terrible mood had little to do with training and more to do with the fact he failed in his chance to get you alone...again. "Why does she have to be around Birdy all the time, anyway?"

"...Because she's her lady...?"

Robb wanted to scream, "Yeah, but - y'know...doesn't ever annoy you?"

Jon shook his head. Truthfully, it wasn't long ago that his relationship with his half-sister was very different. Before you arrived at Winterfell, the way Sansa treated him was barely better than Lady Stark. She neither acknowledged his presence nor ever referred to him as her brother. But ever since your arrival, the icy wall that separated began to slowly thaw. After befriending you, Sansa gained a whole different perspective on bastardy and was more thoughtful and considerate of how she treated Jon. She even gave him a handkerchief with an embroidered direwolf for his name-day gift.

Jon doubted he and Sansa would ever be as close as he and Ayra, but they were making progress.

Robb wiped the sweat pooling on his forehead. "What would I even talk about with her?"

Jon had the nerve to act oblivious. "Why're you asking me?"

Robb's curse nearly spewed out, "You know why. You're the only one she likes talking to... what the hell do the two of you even talk about for so long?"

"I dunno," Jon shrugged. He knew he wasn't being particularly helpful, but he really didn't have an answer. "Look, just talk to her about anything. Better than what you do now..."

"What are you two talking about?"

Robb and Jon turned around in a panic. There you were, standing in the courtyard with your infamous impassive stare. It was painful to see how effortlessly beautiful you were. You stood like a true beacon of Northern beauty, so much so that all the animals inside the keep craved your company. Robb couldn't recall the number of times he found you cheerily conversing with rats from the kitchen or the crows in the rook.

What he would give to have you speak with him with such eagerness...

"Nothing of importance, my lady," he tried to act as normal as possible. "Why? Do you need assistance with anything?"

You shook your head. "I just wanted to drop something off, " you said, digging into your pouch. You pulled out a package wrapped in a burlap sack and twine. "I mended your gloves. They were looking a bit frayed, so I stitched them. They should last a bit longer now."

Robb didn't respond. He just stood and stared like an idiot who had forgotten his own name. It wasn't until Jon jabbed into his side with his elbow that he thanked you for your help.

"Thank you, my lady," He cleared his throat before taking the package from your hands. He opened the package and wasn't surprised in the least at how his old gloves looked better than when he first got them. You always had that magic touch. "They smell different."

You nodded, "Yes, Ayra mentioned that you were upset last week because I didn't give you my favor since I promised to give it to Jon. She also said you stink after training, so I should ensure the gloves mask the odor." When he didn't react, you decided to provide further clarification. "She said it would help you."

"I'm going to kill Arya," Robb thought to himself. He could see Jon's shoulder shake with laughter from the corner of his eye.

You bowed to take your leave. "Now, excuse me, my lords. I must attend to Edwina."

"A fellow maid?"

"No, the duck in the stable. She's pregnant, and I knitted a scarf for her."

Happy 1K, my love!

idk if you would write but i would love to see in ur style a tyrell!reader x robb. imagine being the winter rose? omg living the biggest dream by being a beauty of the seven realms, having tales of ur beauty passed on, and then being betrothed to robb as a mean of house tyrell to guarantee their safety, but still, theres no northern or southern who can resist the tyrell beauty and robb is one of them

nana.. this ask did things to me. i love this idea smsmsm & thank u for sending it in !!

tyrell beauty was never anything that could be denied — by friend or by foe.

you & your twin sister, margaery, were the greatest testimonies to that. while margaery was no doubt beautiful, tales of your beauty had spread throughout the seven kingdoms. singers, poets, servants & kings alike had all heard and contributed to the spread of the tale of the tyrell rose — not only beautiful in physical aspects, but a gorgeous personality to match.

you & margaerys older brother, loras, was also rumored for his looks. safe to say, you three were widely known.. the beauties of house tyrell.

even the north, cold and harsh as it was, was not exempt from hearing the tales of you & your siblings beauty. jokes and speculations had long passed around winterfell, only increasing tenfold when hearing about house tyrell’s rumored interest in forming an allegiance with the north. when bran, rickon, & arya stepped into the castle, covered in dirt & almost soaking wet from that days ministrations, jory only sighed seeing them, ushering them to baths with a mutter of-

“the beauties of winterfell…”

robb only laughed at the teases he heard about you & your siblings, but sometimes found his thoughts wandering to you. his mind often drifting to think about the tyrell rose, absurd childlike questions, that he should’ve pushed away as quickly as they entered his mind. do the tales do your beauty justice? what are you like in person? are you warm? would you like him? what would you think of the north?

he focused on training, doing as he was told & preparing to become lord of winterfell one day, although he couldn’t stop the fleeting thoughts about you that arose every once in a while. a child’s dream, he thought.

so you can imagine his surprise when his father & mother sat him down, telling him of the alliance house tyrell wanted to make with house stark..

through marriage.

robb felt like he was dreaming. the beauty of the seven kingdoms, betrothed to him? he could barely keep the smile off his face, wanting to not only improve stature to his house, but do his duty as a husband. excitement pooled in his gut, as theon clasped his hands on robb’s shoulders at dinner, congratulating him. theon’s hands waved in the air, saying something about-

“the beauty and the beast..”

any other night he would’ve gotten a shove to the ground, but robb only threw him a playful smile. even theon’s relentless teasing couldn’t ruin this for him. if he was to be lord of winterfell one day, he’d need a strong woman by his side — he dreamed of a relationship like his mother and fathers, and he prayed in the godswood to the old gods that night, that they would guide your union as man and wife.

in the days leading up to your arrival at winterfell, countless preparations were made. the tyrell host was large, and all of the starks had done their parts to prepare to receive it. you were to stay in winterfell for a week before the wedding, and your family would leave shortly after. you had handmaidens and a few select soldiers to stay with you at winterfell, and you could visit high garden anytime you wanted in the near future. you asked your grandmother if she would visit you in winterfell again after the wedding, but she only put a hand over your own & said it would take the Father himself to drag her back to that “frozen wasteland”.

the day you arrive, robb thinks he’s might jump out of his skin, he’s so nervous. still, he puts on a brave face for his & his families sake, wanting to be everything you need and more.

you, margaery, and the queen of thornes are riding in the wheelhouse, while ser loras is in front of it, mounted on a white mare. his armor glints in the sunlight, doing wonders to illuminate his face. he’s handsome, robb can admit, and that only makes his curiosity increase about you & your sister. & once you both step out of the wheelhouse, robb feels his heart skip as many beats as it can without killing him.

a few of your cousins step out first, giggly as they curtsy to the starks and stand respectively to the side. margaery is next, gorgeous auburn hair & a button nose, a flattering dress with the tyrell colors proudly on display, and a sweet smile to accompany it all. she curtsy’s as well, standing more in front of the wheelhouse, as loras dismounts and moves to stand next to her.

when you step out of the wheelhouse, robb’s breath hitches. his body forgets every single instinct he’s ever had, & he has to remind himself to breathe, as to not kill himself. you’re beautiful. stunning. a sight for sore eyes. he doesn’t think there’s any word in the common tongue that can be used to describe your beauty without downplaying it. it seems like nobody can tear their eyes off of you, your aura doing wonders to brighten the damp atmosphere.

you curtsy to them all, along with a smile he wishes would never leave your face. robb can’t tear his eyes from you, even when you move to offer your hand to the queen of thornes as she steps out. you meet robb’s gaze in the moment everyones attention is not on you. the corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk as he winks at you. you only tilt your head, brows lightly furrowing as you smile at him. your gaze falls to the floor as blush rises to your cheeks, retracting your hand from your grandmothers and smoothing out your gown.

pleasantries are exchanged, you and robb stealing glances to each other every so often. lady olenna & a few of your cousins go with ned stark & lady catelyn, moving to discuss the wedding, among other things. you take robb’s arm as he escorts you, margaery, and loras to where you’ll be staying at. robb drinks in every moment with you.

you’re gorgeous, soft, & warm. you have a kind heart, a love for the arts and children, and you’re very kind. your shy nature bubbles away as you grow more comfortable in each others presence.

that night, a great feast is held. everyone of the starklings is made to be in attendance, and robb prays that arya can keep her withering resolve just a little bit longer. you’re sat beside him, softly laughing at a remark ned had made. robb’s heart warms at the sight of you & his father getting along, but is quickly forgotten when he sees arya dash away & out of the hall. guards are sent after her, and robb bites back a smile at her daring antics.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts as your hand clasps his bicep, his head turns towards you as you lean into speak in his ear.

“forgive me, i must be excused. i’ll return shortly.” you say, a reassuring smile making its way onto your face as you get up. robb only nods, sighing in an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves.

it’s a few minutes later when the queen of thornes sits next to him, striking up light conversation. judging his character, no doubt. at the end of it she nods her head in approval, asking him to please find her granddaughter — wherever she’s run off to. robb stands up with an-

“of course, my lady.”

moving to follow the direction you went in. it takes him outside, and he looks around, before his gaze settles on you & a small form behind you, a guard approaching in front of you. robb was lucky to be in earshot of you.

“pardon, my lady, we’re looking for arya underfoot, ned starks daughter. ‘bout yay high, brown of hair. have you seen ‘er ‘round?”

you were stood beside a pillar, one arm behind your back as you discreetly pressed arya further behind you. one shift of your form & arya would be revealed, dragged back to the festivities she had just escaped from. robb watched you from afar, careful not to give away your position — but close enough to hear & see your response. curiosity spread through him as he and the guard both awaited your answer.

your brows furrowed in faux confusion, looking at the guard with a soft expression.

“i must confess, i haven’t seen her. brown of hair, you said?”

the guard swallowed, nodding as he eyed you up & down. you smiled sweetly at him.

“i will be sure to keep an eye out, ser…?”

you slightly raised your brows, and the guard quickly gave you his name. you repeated it to him, and the guard nodded, smiling.

“would you be so kind to escort me back to the festivities? a castle like this.. it’s so easy to get lost.”

the guard quickly agreed, not being able to resist you, & robb is enamored, having witnessed the tyrell charm firsthand. what happens next seals the deal for robb.

as you move to take the guards arm, you spot loras patrolling, his path sending him to pass on the other side of the pillar that you’re at. the eye contact between you both is minimal, and robb almost misses your eyes slightly widen & the small nod of his head. with one swift move, you’re grasping the guards bicep & using your other hand to gently push arya to your older brother, as he outstretches his hand just enough for arya to get the hint. as you walk off, loras has one hand on aryas shoulder, ushering her off with a wink — & robb watches the smile grow on aryas face as she slips away.

yeah, he thinks. you’re perfect.

his winter rose.

sorry if this was too long or not what you were envisioning, but i had sm fun writing this !! tyrell supremacy

Oh my God! I have reached 600 followers. Thank you all so so so much for the support and everything in general. When I started this blog, it was because of a bet ( I am being honest) which I lost and this was the result ... thank you all once again.

To celebrate this milestone I ask you to send me requests for fic or drubles.

(I write for Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, Anakin Skywalker, Marauders GOT characters, actually anyone...)

Love,

Elena

WARNINGS: reader is a Velaryon with some Targaryen features but not an OC, this is just some story building there will be other parts. I just finished the books and I am obsessed with GOT wither way I was bored and this is the result so beware ... I think that's it. Also Theon is a pookie in this fic because I said so

PAIRING: fem!reader x Robb Stark (romantically), fem!reader x Jon Snow (platonically), fem!reader x Theon Greyjoy (platonically)

part 2

The cold wind still raged on, hitting the walls of Winterfell. Her room was one on the lower floors next to Jon's and Theon's rooms. The sunrays gently fell on her sleeping figure dragging her from her deep slumber. The fireplace was filled with ashes and the chill in her bones was reasonable. It might still be summer on the North, yet the occasional snow always drifted down from the dark grey clouds. A discreet knock pulled her out of her thoughts and Theon's irritated voice filled the room.

"If you are not in the courtyard in two minutes, I am ratting you out"

Like clock work the same words sounded the moment dawn greeted the North. It was a small routine they had formed two namedays ago. She covered herself in Robb's old furs, the ones he secretly gave to her and claimed he lost them. They had kept her warm for over six moon cycles, they had holes in several places and the edges were coming apart but it was her most prized possession. At first it smelled at him and she was always trying to bask in his scent, that was until Theon caught her smelling the neckline while wearing it and she wouldn't hear the end of it until she openly caught him staring longingly at Sansa.

Unfortunately, they were both in the same position, they wanted people they could never have, and only each other knew. They would drink together glasses of wine and they would stumble giggling around the castle. One time he had drunk so much that he composed atrocious poetry about the beauty of his lady Sansa and her copper hair and then about the Northern prince that fell in love with a girl that had mud brown hair adorned with streaks of silver grey and deep violet eyes that appeared dark blue in the right light. She knew that her appearance betrayed her ancestry the Targaryen blood that flowed in her Velaryon veins.

Her family had been brutally murdered, she had heard and read the tales of how her mother gave her life to protect her dark-haired girl and the bloody necklace that hugged her fathers throat. At the tender age of seven moon cycles her whole family had perished and she had been the only survivor. Ned Stark had found her in a bundle of fabrics crying her heart out and once he saw the sword that could have taken her head, he swore to protect her and take her in as his ward. She should have been grateful, she knew as much, he had given her everything, a warm house, plenty food, clothes and a loving family one she wasn't actually a part of and maybe that was the reason she was closer with Theon and Jon, the outsiders. It wasn't like she didn't like the Starks, she loved them to bits and yet she could never be one of them. She would be the squire under their Maesters care with her nose hidden in ancient books and scrolls, lost in maps and various languages and basic training as a healer. But her new passion was sword fighting. As a woman she had only been allowed to practice archery that she was quite good at and always betted with the boys around their performance.

And that was how Theon found himself at incredibly early hours with a wooden sword in his hand, frowning at drawings of fighting styles freezing his "balls" off. She had bested him at the fine art of combat at practically her fifth lesson in a few hits. She had a strategic mind and she was quick on her feet, the most perfect and most deadly combination that existed.

He pitted the man that would take her as his wife, because most men were incredibly controlling but there was no chance, she wouldn't get things her way. He was proof enough.

She had the three of them wrapped around her little finger from all those years back. She had grown up with them from when she was a babe, but at her seventh nameday her and the Maester left, since she was his squire, she had to follow him, he had taken her under his wing, she had practically been his daughter, the one he never had. At that day and several later they had cried so much that even Lady Stark was regretting her decision, she liked the girl enough, she had the tendency to wreak havoc and get lost in her books a bit too much, neglecting her chores and her lessons at needlepoint half the time, but she made her kids happy and she was too smart and witty for her own good that it was impossible not to have a sweet spot for the orphaned girl. She had been overjoyed when she learned about her return nine namedays afterwards. Her son, her calm and collected Robb was shuffling at his feet, nudging rocks around and toying with the hem of his cloak, the bastard and the Greyjoy ward were portraying similar behaviors and she had to control herself not to laugh at their antics.

Ned had pushed his son forth, claiming that it was around time he greeted their guests, he shot him a glare and his parented watched him as he wiped down his palms at his breeches and headed towards the carriage, his hand shook as he lightly grazed the handle and pulled the door open while staring into place, not ready to accept that his best friend might have changed. He was frozen in his place as a girl wearing a dark blue dress and heeled leather boots stood before him. She tilted her head to the right and only then did he notice her hair.

A knot at the back of her head that was a swirl of chocolate brown and silver white strands that framed her face beautifully. Her violet eyes hid a familiar mischief that he had dearly missed. She nodded at him, before facing his father and dropping into an elegant curtesy. It was as if he was on a trance, unable to tear his eyes from her form. It wasn't until he heard her voice, she was speaking in a language he didn't understand, yet he could recognize the bite on her tone. His father wore an amused smile as he answered her back. He would learn at the evening feast what had caused such reactions, the news almost swept him from his feet, his whole existence reduced to one word. Betrothed. Ever since then it was like they were walking on eggshells around her. All three of them longed for their missing link.

It wasn't until a few days latter when they invited her on a hunt that they could glimpse on what they were. They had found a boar and his in bushes only to lose their horses in the process. They had been walking for hours and all it took was an ill-fated joke from Jon.

"No. I do not love you. Of course I lied to you. Yes, it does make you look fat. No, I have never been in the Riverlands. It is pronounced Eyrie. And all of this pales to utter insignificance if we are to let ourselves be food for the hounds."

They had all been tired and snappy, making comments left and right and picking fun at her the way they used to. They had been waiting quite impatiently for her to snap back and the moment she did, loud laughter echoed in the woods. And just like that everything was back to the way it used to be.

Ever since then life seemed dreamy to Robb, he had his friends and his family all getting along and everything seemed perfect. But reality hit him hard each night knowing that the girl he fostered feelings for was promised to another.

WARNINGS: reader is a Velaryon with some Targaryen features but not an OC, this is just some story building there will be other parts. I just finished the books and I am obsessed with GOT wither way I was bored and this is the result so beware ... I think that's it. Also Theon is a pookie in this fic because I said so

PAIRING: fem!reader x Robb Stark (romantically), fem!reader x Jon Snow (platonically), fem!reader x Theon Greyjoy (platonically)

part 1

The King arrived at gloomy day, filled with dark grey clouds and thundering skies. An alliance was to happen by wedding, the heir of the Iron Throne, a snotty kid that as too proud and too arrogant was to wed his Sansa. Theon was a bundle of nerves and restless energy as he stood beside his Velaryon friend and puffed up his chest as Jon did to hide her from the eyes of the King. He was silently seething with anger and the only thing that lifted his mood was the jabs that she and Jon made about the royal family. Yet their tries to protect her were to no avail, as the Kings beady eyes focused on her. Really, she wasn't trying to go unnoticed, she had worn a bright red dress with black detailing, Targaryen colors and starred at him in the eyes smirking tauntingly. Robb was bitting his tongue to withheld a comment for her bold attitude and Lady Catelyn's eyes held an immense disapproval, the only one that enjoyed her antics was Ned that had chuckled when he had first seen her in the dress and he said that she should do something to make the silver in her hair more prominent.

Her undefined gaze was going to be haunting him until his last days. The babe he had tried to kill was staring back at him. He had been shocked to the core and the boys at her side to visibly restrain themselves from grabbing her, placing her somewhere away from him. It was too much.

At the dinner feast they hadn't been allowed to sit at their usual places, not fit to dine with the royals, yet they seemed to be having a blast, as Theon was a beetroot red and Jon was gaping at him like a fish and she had been laughing uncontrollably.

"That cannot possibly be true." Jon's exasperated voice whispered as he finally connected the dots. And she was singing under her breath "Theon and Sansa walking in the woods K I S S I N G." Eventually what had done it was a broken wineglass in Theon's hand as he watched the snotty kid stroke Sansa's hair.

"As if you are any better. Laughing at my face you prick. 'Oh, he is just so handsome, I want to have his babies."

"I never said that." She weakly defended herself.

"What? Who -?"

"Little miss perfect over here is head over heels for your brother."

"WHAT?" Jon's voice echoed in the room and he hastily apologized before gapping at her, as she cursed them both and asked them to be quiet. "That can't be true." With one look he could tell. "It is? Oh, seven hells, why are you both like this."

"It's the eyes alright?" They both claimed at the same time and then proceeded to glare at the other, practically promising bloody murder.

"Wait... is that why when you barged in like a bull while we were shaving you went bright red?"

"No" she answered with a small voice as Theon hissed "At least I kept up my part of the deal."

"What deal?" Jon question and regretted it immediately as they both exclaimed "nothing" with one voice.

"Well, at least I hide it better than you."

"As if! You are practically ogling him right now. I have finesse, whereas you are like a creepy maid."

"I didn't notice if it makes you feel better."

"Thank you, brother." Theon said appreciatingly as she muttered under her breath "You wouldn't notice a flying dragon over your head also." Small pieces of bread land on her as they attacked her and booed her comment. Her laughter quiet as she yielded.

"I will have you know. I notice a lot of things. Like did you know that Arya's maid is sleeping with a stableboy."

"Yeah. For years."

"Those are old news Snow."

"Bullshit. You are lying the lot of you."

"Oh, my dear gentle innocent Jon. Who do you think introduced them?" Theon said in a mimic of a seductive voice. "Sir Lover."

"Is that supposed to be you?"

"Obviously."

"Ha, Sir can't keep-it-in-his-pants more like."

"Or Sir too-lovestruck."

"Tease me all you like, my sweet haters. But I shall win my girl."

"Keep dreaming Greyjoy."

Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.

Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.

Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)

In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.

“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.

Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.

Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.

She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.

Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.

“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.

She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.

Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.

Dorea named her Y/N.

As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.

“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.

Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths.  Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.

It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.

Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.

“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.

“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.

Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.

Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.

Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.

I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.

Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.

She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.

And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.

Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.

Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.

The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.

“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.

“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.

As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.

“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.

“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.

“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.

A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.

Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”

The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.  

“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “

“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”

“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, “No. I have children.”

Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.

“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.

Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.

Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.

Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.

After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.

“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.

Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.

Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.

Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.

“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.

Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.

She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.

Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.

“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.

Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.

“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.

“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.

As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.

“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.

Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.

“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.

A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.

“You can become a Stark”.

Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “

Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.

Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.

“No.”

Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “

“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.

The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.

Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.

Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.

“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.

She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.

Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.

“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.

Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”.  Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.

For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.

The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.

“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.

He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”.  She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.

Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.

“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.

Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her.  A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.

“Do you love him?”.

She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.

The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “

“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.

Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.

Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.

Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.

Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.

“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.

Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.

“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.

Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “

“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.

“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”

Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.

A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.

Someone New — Robb Stark x Mormont!reader / Jon Snow x Mormont!reader

Summary: Jon Snow and Robb Stark both had a crush on the reader, the reader is in love with Jon, they lay together for the first time (sort of like a flashback), then Jon goes to the Walls and the reader finds a different kind of comfort in Robb.

Warnings: Smut

How did you get in this position? A month ago you were spread out in Jon's bed as his tongue swiped over your overly sensitive clit, crying out as his teeth scraped against the pink folds around it. Now you were rocking your hips against Robb's, his manhood buried deep inside you as your lips mashed against one another, your hand strung in his curly locks.

You could tell the differences between them.

Jon's hair was longer, his manhood well-built — long and stocky —, his body lean against yours, the hair around his nether regions well-kept. He was a gentle lover, taking his time, trying to please both of you, but at the same time, he didn't seem to care about his orgasm; he just wanted you to have yours.

Robb's hair was short, his manhood a bit shorter than Jon's but the same thickness nevertheless, his body hard and stockier, no hair around his cock. He was both gentle and hard, taking his time, driving his cock deep into you hard, forcing both of your orgasms to come.

Jon had been your first lover — a Mormont lady with a bastard! Oh, how everyone was shocked, but they all knew better than to piss off a bear. You and Jon did everything together, riding your horses into the forests in search of a Weirwood tree, sitting with him during your meals, and talking about nonsense.

You’ve never really had that with Robb, but the two of you became close after Jon’s departure, and now here you were, in his bed, moaning out his name like a mantra, begging him to let you come. The tight knot in your stomach was becoming stronger by the second, making Robb feel your walls flutter around him, letting him know you were close. “Let go, (Y/N),” he whispered into your ear, and with that, you let go, a large wave of pleasure crashing over you as you came, triggering Robb’s as well. Thick lines of come shot up into your cervix, the small donut-shaped muscle/fibers, some of the little swimmers going up into your uterus, fertilizing your eggs as Robb laid down next to you.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Should I do a part two? This is just supposed to be like an introductory chapter, btw.

masterlist

! - personal favorite

* - series

x - x-reader

^ - smut

will be kept updated!

uploaded: 18.02.19

updated: 14.12.2023

lucifer’s waltz: (*)

↳ au. Michael is Jack’s twin (they both do not have a last name) and Jack represents the good from their mother while Michael represents their father’s more evil tendencies.

status: on-going

[1] [2]

someone new ( ^ x )

↳ Jon Snow and Robb Stark both had a crush on the reader, the reader is in love with Jon, they lay together for the first time (sort of like a flashback), then Jon goes to the Walls and the reader finds a different kind of comfort in Robb.

status: unknown

x

sanctity ( ^ ! )

↳ the goddess of war, freyja, is put onto kattegat to aid the lothbroks during their future raids. both the seer and aslaug have seen her coming, and the queen welcomes her with open arms. catching the eye of hvitserk lothbrok, she treats him as no one has done before; as an equal, instead of a dog.

x

brutus ( ^ * ! ) ↳ taken after the song brutus by the buttress, it essentially goes lyric by lyric, and the chapters will be based off the lyric i choose that day ! masterlist

gimme that ! (^ * )  shortly after the apocalypse happens, survivors go into hiding in outposts that are set up around the world. outpost 3, however, doesn’t realize that three of the people that have taken up residence in their walls are vampires, feeding on the others whilst they are asleep. all they know is that they are finding bite marks on them, and have little to no recollection as to how they are getting them. when michael langdon makes his way into outpost 3, the vampires are keen on making him the fourth in the relationship. masterlist

GAME OF THRONES MASTERLIST —

Credits to @anitalenia for dividers!

🕯️= NSFW

🩰= Fluff

💭= Angst

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•

•

•

COMFORT - ROBB STARK

you’re afraid of thunderstorms — unlucky for you, they’re in season. luckily, your childhood friend & lover, robb stark, knows exactly how to comfort you during them.

robb stark x fem!reader (fluff), 2.3k words

“Relax your bow arm. Good.. pull with your back.”

bran huffs, drawing the arrow to his bow. he engages his back, as you tell him, simultaneously taking the strain off his arms. robb stands, arms crossed together, looking down at you and bran as you fix his form. he knows bran shoots worse when being watched, but he can’t help it.

earlier today bran, (the families worst archer) claimed the makeshift target you set up in the woods impossible. robb remembers the sly smile on your face as you then announced that you all would be heading to the wolfswood, and not leaving until bran shot the target.

robb thought it was cute, your determination to help bran. watching you with him made a part of him see the future; the future where you’re the lady of winterfell, belly round with child.

“Easy, now. The arrow goes wherever you’re looking.”

your voice brings robb back to reality as you continue your coaching. he watches as bran focuses on the target, an old piece of wood, strung by rope & hanging from one of the trees in the wolfswood, just outside winterfells’ walls. it sways with the wind, one of brans reasonings for not being able to hit it. you reminded him that as a knight, your targets won’t be still — they’ll move as fast as the wind.

bran focuses on the target, still for now and unaffected by wind, drawing his arrow tight.. about to let it loose-

“Any day now!”

theon’s voice startles all three of you, causing bran to let the arrow loose. it flies, lodging itself just below the bullseye of the target. bran sighs, and you whip your head around to theon and jon, standing a few feet away. they’ve quickly turned around, pretending that a tree in the distance has caught their attention.

“And which one of you was a marksman at ten!?”

you repeating his fathers words has robb looking down, trying to suppress the smile on his face. he huffs out a breath of laughter, making bran look at him, and smile himself. you shake your head at theon, before turning back to bran, wearing slight disappointment on his face. you run your hand through his hair.

“Don’t kick yourself over it. Theon doesn’t know his arse from a hole in the ground.” you put a hand on the small of brans back, turning & beginning to walk back to the horses. robb agrees with you.

“Aye. The first time Theon tried he nearly beheaded father.”

brans satisfied with that answer, giving robb a nod of his head as you three walk back to the others. theon glances over his shoulder, looking at you three, and then the target, swaying in the wind with an arrow near the bottom of it. he turns back, facing jon.

“At least he hit the target this time...”

jon fusses with the horses, pretending not to hear theon. it doesn’t work completely, he still has to bite back his smile as you, robb, and bran approach.

“Theon Greyjoy, everybody,” you say. “The most hilarious man in the seven kingdoms.” theon shrugs.

“The ladies seem to think so. Don’t you?” theon turns to jon, and jon’s half-smile is quick to disappear. it earns theon a smack on the back of the head from robb. theon rubs the back of his head, quick to look at his attacker. robb only smiles.

you take an arrow from brans quiver, pulling it to your bow & notching it. you aim for the swaying target, now much farther away than it was before. robb can barely spot it, the wood blending in with the trees. you release the arrow, and it lands with a thud, right into the bullseye.

you turn to theon, who now has decided that comedy is overrated. you offer him the bow, tilting your head. theon swallows, and opens his mouth to reply when ser rodrick approaches you all.

“The sky tells me a storms comin’, lads. Best to start headin’ back.”

your stomach churns at the mention of a storm, anxiety trying to creep its way up your spine. you wave it off, silently cursing ser rodrick as he saves theon from embarrassment. you usher bran along, and robb and jon share a look before falling in behind you both. theon sighs in relief, silently thanking the gods as he moves to catch up with you all.

theon moves to his horse, standing next to jon’s, and he begins to untie it. jon turns to him with a half-amused smile.

“At least you almost touched the bow this time.”

꧁——————————————————꧂

the rain is loud, wild in its crashing against the castle- drenching the bricks laid so many years ago. only a few small candles are lit in the great hall, and it makes for a somber mood at dinner. various conversation ensues as the rain worsens, & already it makes you restless — unable to sit still. ned’s voice carries across the table.

“The maesters say the storm is only to worsen.”

you internally groan at the thought of a heavier storm, and arya’s face scrunches in confusion. “Don’t they deal with stupid ravens? What do maesters know about storms?

robb is quick to pipe up. “About as much as you know about maesters.”

“‘S not just ravens!” brans little voice joins the chaos.

catelyn sighs at her children’s inability to get along, and you & her share an amusing look at their behavior. theon laughs, while ned and jon both have a small smile on their faces. arya looks for explanation, and ned nods his head towards robb. robb looks at his father, before deciding to have mercy on his sister.

“Maesters know the weather as well as medicine. Who do you think confirms winters’ come and summers ended?”

arya looks at robb with disbelief. “Maester Luwin?”

aryas knowledge of maesters, or lack thereof, has everyone cracking up- you included. it temporarily erases the storm from your mind, and even ned shakes his head with laughter. everyone except for sansa, who doesn’t appreciate her sisters lack of knowledge.

“No, stupid!”

catelyns head turns to sansa. “Sansa, be civil, will you?”

jon shakes his head at arya as she sticks her tongue at sansa. “The archmaesters, little sister.”

you can’t help but laugh yourself at their antics. even so, your stomach churns at the thought of a heavy storm. you’ve never been fond of them, too dark & too angry for your liking, always causing you to lose copious amounts of sleep. winterfells’ walls are strong, you know this, but it doesn’t do much to soothe your nerves — and you suspect you won’t be getting much sleep tonight.

as if the gods can hear you, thunder loudly rumbles overhead. all conversation momentarily pauses at the table, everyone looking up & around them, as if expecting to see the thunder in the room. you pause with them, your breath quickening as a small dose of fear shoots through you. ned, ever the reassure, takes one look at his younger children’s fearful eyes and resumes the role of lord stark.

“Not to worry. Winterfells’ held against greater comings than late summers rain.”

their fathers words have rickon, bran, and arya relieved. smiles are shot their way in an extra coat of reassurance, and everyone returns to their food. almost everyone.

you think you do a good job of hiding it, but robb notices. of course he does. you’ve always tried to hide from him, the same way you do from others, but it’s never worked — he found you long ago. you find yourself under robb’s gaze, and you both share a look. you swallow, gaze dropping down to your food. you think it’ll be a long night indeed.

꧁——————————————————꧂

BOOM

lightning strikes, making you jump- almost dropping the book in your hands. you sigh, bringing a hand to your face to rub the sleep from your eyes.

in truth, even if you wanted to, there’s no way you could sleep in this weather. winterfells library provides for a nice distraction, a chance to catch up on the books you’ve been too busy to read — and a safe space. a small offer of solace during your living nightmare. you’ve never been a deep sleeper, and you’ve never been able to sleep through storms. well- except for one.

it was a small one, light in its rain and even lighter in its thunder. still, it had you on the edge of sleep, only to be yanked back to reality when thunder would rumble overhead.

you sighed, tossing and turning, desperately trying to find rest. you had a heavy day the following morning, and already internally dreaded working through your duties sleep deprived. a knock on your door has you alert, and pushing the blankets off your body to get out of bed. you’re vaguely aware of the sound of fire dimly crackling in the fireplace as you approach the door.

it opens to reveal robb. the sight of you is enough to have the corners of his lips quirk up in a smile.

“Robb?”

“Hey, pretty. Can’t sleep?”

you shake your head, stepping to the side to let him in. he walks in, and you shut the door behind him. that night you slept in robb’s arms. he spoke with you until his voice lulled you to sleep, and the comfort of his arms kept you there — all the way until morning. you remember that night during storms, or the rain you fear will turn into one. you remember it was all okay, and it’ll all be okay again.

selfishly, you start to hope for his presence during storms. robb, ever devoted, never disappoints.

BOOM

the sky loudly rumbles, bringing you out of your head (and your book). you decide on wanting to read something different, getting up from the uncomfortable library chair & moving toward a nearby bookcase.

your gaze is trained on the book in your hands. not looking where you were going, you collide into a wall of muscle. you’d flinch back, but strong arms keep you in place.

“‘S just me.” you quickly look up & are much relieved to see robb. you sigh, lightly thumping the book against robb’s chest in some (?) act of defiance.

“You scared me.”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to.” the way robb looks at you is genuine, his gaze flickering between you and the book you’re carrying. his hand comes to caress your arm, and you subconsciously relax, leaning into his touch.

“What’s all this? Can’t sleep?”

you grumble. “When can I ever?” you don’t mean to be snappy with him, but you’re frustrated. you want to sleep, but you can’t — and the lack of rest catches up with you, no matter how many times you’ve done this dance.

he doesn’t stop looking at you. “When you’re with me.”

you momentarily pause, looking up at him, then sighing, nodding your head in silent agreement.

“C’mon. Y’need sleep.”

you interject, not wanting to leave the sanctuary that had become of the library. “The storm is-“

“Passing.”

you’re stubborn. “My book…”

“My lady.” so is robb.

you groan, silently thankful of robb’s persistence. you turn, sliding your book onto the bookcase next to the both of you. robb offers his hand, but you pause, turning back to him with newfound confidence.

“‘M not afraid.”

“Course not.”

“Truly. I’m not even-“

BOOM!

lightning interrupts your sentence, making you yelp as you (on instinct) jump towards robb. a smile adorns his face as he accepts you with open arms, fighting the urge to laugh. you abandon all pride, clinging to robb as if he can hold off the storm by battling it. he would, if you really wanted him to.

“Okay, um, perhaps-“

“Uh-Huh.” he’s one step ahead, turning you both around & ushering you towards the exit, leaving both your fear & your books behind.

the walk to robb’s room is quiet. your hand on his bicep, letting him lead you through winterfells twist and turns. you grow more tired as time goes on, as if sleep couldn’t get into the library, and is now racing to catch up with you. you’re subconsciously leaning further & further into robb, who notices, but only finds it endearing.

by the time you approach robb’s door, your eyes are closed. fully relying on robb, it’s all you can do to keep walking. your eyes only open when he gently removes you from his side, opening the door & gliding a hand on the small of your back to usher you in the room before him.

you stop in front of the window, looking out as the rain beats against it. thunder rumbles, and you almost take personal offense.

“This storm is out to get me…”

“It would have to get through me first.” once again, at your side, he turns you, directing your path toward the bed. the blankets are warm & inviting, and so are the hands that have taken purchase on your hips.

“Defend my honor.”

robb nods. “To the death.”

once you’re comfortable, wrapped in his arms, he begins to talk. you don’t even need to ask, he just knows. he speaks of the bet with theon he made, bravely proclaiming that bran would hit the target. he did, and theon lost the next game he hunts. he speaks of the servants’ gossip he’s heard around the castle. apparently, arya is the servants’ favorite, and sworn to secrecy. she gets all the earfuls of gossip she wants, as long as it is never repeated. you almost ask how robb found out, but he beats you to it. he was sneaking into the kitchen late at night, then overhearing a few ladies in waiting speaking of their little starkling. you almost laugh, but the tiredness wins.

& the storm has lost. here you sit, curled up with your lover — who has promised that the storm will be at your mercy by morning. you thought you would be death on two legs on the morrow, scraping by until nightfall. but here you stand, bested. sleep comes instead.

could you make a robb stark x baratheon reader where they grow up together as friends and were promised to each other, at the beginning reader thinks robb doesn't wanna marry her but then he tells her he loves her

if you could please add smut at the end (afab reader btw)

Robb Stark*Arranged

Pairing: arranged marriage!robb stark x princess!reader

Word count: 2272

Warnings: arranged marriage, anxiety, talks of running away, making out, (smut in part two but this is mostly wholesome), fluff

Masterlist here

A/N: sorry this (and everything else lol) has taken so long but part two with the smut will be up in the next couple of days :)

despite being a Baratheon by blood, by title, and by name most days you felt more like a Stark than anything else. Your father had sent you up to the North on your eleventh name day to become a ward of Ned Stark as part of an alliance of sort. Marrying his eldest daughter to a well-respected and established house only strengthened your fathers claim.

It had benefits for you, well at least he told you all his reasons in the letters. You’d be safe under lord starks protection, able to grow up alongside Sansa Stark who was only a year younger than you, become the future lady of Winterfell, and most importantly, to you at least, marry your childhood crush.

Yes, that’s right from the time you met him at four, him being five, you were smittened. Your father had travelled north on business but also happened to attend the wedding of one of the northern lords. He and ned laughed loudly, clinking their glasses together, as they watched you force Robb to walk down a pretend aisle with you that Jon helped you set up with chairs.

Of course, it was just a silly crush. It’s not like four-year-olds understand what a wedding is. By the time you moved to the north at eleven it was just a fond memory of your fathers he would tell at dinner parties.

In the nicest way possible when you first arrived Robb didn’t even care you were there. He was twelve and running about with wooden swords to practise with Jon and Theon while you and Sansa would practise hairstyles in each other’s hair.

However, by fifteen something dreadful happened. You fancied him.

Sure, in theory it sounded great but there were so many awkward moments. After all you were only fifteen. You couldn’t help that your face went beat red when he gave you a necklace for your birthday and when he told you that you looked ‘pretty’ one day you could barely muster out a thank you, you were so shocked.

You did your best to shove it down and pretend everything was normal over the years, but the crush never went away. You got better at hiding it. you had to as you’d grown closer over the years. Since Sansa had no interest in horse riding you were left to go with the trio, as you called them, instead. It soon became one of your favourite past times and you quickly grew close with the three boys. Especially Robb.

You figured it was a good idea especially as the talks of your marriage began cropping up more frequently. Your parents started pushing you to go on chaperoned excursions to markets and walks through the gods’ woods. They had no clue, or at least pretended, about the unchaperoned ones. Often you disappeared into the gods wood for some peace or the fields behind Winterfell to race. Robb began to bring food in his satchel so your excursions could turn into late lunches in the few sunny days of Winterfell.

“I definitely won,” he grinned as he dismounted his horse.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed as you jumped down, “you cheated,”

“How?”

“You went before I said go!”

“It’s three, two, one, go on one,”

“No, it’s not. Its three, two, one, go,”

“As in go already I said one,”

“As in you’re a cheat,” you huffed as you sat down against a thick oak tree.

Robb laughed at your antics as he sat down beside you, pulling his satchel out, “Truce?” he offered as he pulled out a parcel of sandwiches.

You pretended to think it over before nodding, “Truce,” For a few moments you sat in silence eating the sandwiches before you finally decided to tell him the news that had been weighing over you for the past week. “My mother sent me a raven,”

“Oh?” Robb paused, mid bite with concern written on his face. Your father sent you letters on a weekly basis but so far, your mother had only sent three since you left. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, well, I think so. I’m not sure,” you paused for a moment before just blurting it out, “She’s coming next week. With a seamstress,” Robb stared at you confused, “For the wedding,”

“Oh,” the word shattered your heart. While you had become friends over the year neither one of you ever spoke about the impending nuptials. Sure, you wanted to marry him, but you were terrified. Not of marriage. He was a good man. He would treat you right whether he wanted this marriage or not. But that’s when the fear came in. what if Robb could never love you? “Aren’t most girls excited about fancy dresses?” he tried to joke, lighten the mood like he always did. Its what he always did whenever the wedding was brought up. Play it off, make a joke, laugh. It was all an awkward joke to him.

“I suppose, Sansa will be,” you laughed. She really had become like a sister to you over the years, “I suppose though this means it will be arranged soon,” you tried to look at him, but Robb just stared down at his food. “Unless we escape somehow,” you joked, copying his defence mechanism.

He looked up a smiled a little, “Quick you grab the horses, I’ll pack the bag. We’ll ride at dawn,” he joked.

“Imagine. Take all the back roads till we get to Riverrun,”

“Bribe the Frays into letting us cross,”

“Then straight down to Dorne,”

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiled, knocking his knee against yours. “Jon would never forgive me if I left him behind,”

“Him and Arya can come with. We’ll become sellswords,”

“Sounds like we’ve got it all planned out,”

-

When you returned to Winterfell Catelyn ran up to you both in a tizzy, “Where have you both been?” she whispers shouted, smiling at a passing lord before scouring, “A messenger from the king has arrived,”

You knew she meant well but your stomach dropped. you both followed her to the hall but soon the sorrowful look on your face was replaced by a grin, “Uncle Tyrion,” you rushed up to him immediately.

“Ah my favourite niece. Finally returned from some dingy pub I assume,” he joked though Cat couldn’t help but frown a little. They were both protective just in their own ways. “Don’t worry I’m not here to stay long. Just come down on your father’s behalf to organise the wedding. Speaking of, Lord Stark I do believe this is the first time we’ve met,” he extended a courteous nod to a very nervous looking Robb.

“Lord Tyrion,” he bowed.

“It goes without saying if you hurt my niece, I will have to have my men kill you,” he said, head tilting to the side making Robb gulp, “But other than that it’s lovely to meet you,” he grinned widely like a jester.

“Don’t tease him uncle,” you shook your head, but Tyrion just laughed, “I’d say you’ll get used to him, but no one has so far,”

“You’re so kind niece, truly,” he laughed, “Now onto business The king has organised his travels and shall be in Winterfell by the first of next month so we shall have to act swiftly,”

Panic set on all three of your faces. Though Robb and yours was far different than Catelyn’s. “My lord that’s awfully soon. We may not have the provisions to afford so many guests so soon- “

“No fear my lady. I was also sent with my father’s gold. No Lannister shall have anything less than a golden affair,” you could see the relief melt from Catelyn but yours was just setting in.

-

For the next three weeks every discussion you had was about the wedding. cakes, flowers, food, music, dresses, veils, and most daunting of all; organising the preparation for Robb’s and yours new chamber. Tyrion even sent a seamstress to your room to organise an outfit for your wedding night. It was all quickly becoming too much.

You’d barely even seen Robb since the planning began. There was no time to calm down and no one to remind you to breathe. That was his job. Whenever you got nervous, he would gently grab your wrist under the table, running his thumb over the back of your hand. But he was nowhere to be found.

You eventually managed to find Jon who told you Robb was under the same stresses. His mother had him arranging with traders and mingling with the growing number of lords appearing at Winterfell’s gates. “Suppose this is the stresses of being a lady,” Jon joked.

It was only then it hit you. Soon this whole castle would be yours to run. How would you ever have time to breathe let alone enjoy your husband’s company if he would even have you.

Despite missing your family, the night before their arrivals, you cried quietly in your chamber. Their arrival tomorrow only marked the three remaining days you had left as a maid. Perched on an open windows ledge, the cold air stung your cheek but at least as you watched the birds fly you could feel a little of their freedom.

Then there was a quiet but rapid knocking. The faint sound brought your attention to the door which was shut less than a second after it was opened. “Hey sorry I’ve not come sooner- “Robb’s voice entered the room, for some reason making your tears sting more. Robb shivered from the cold, “Why’s the window open? You’ll freeze princess,”

Robb rushed to your side, leaning past you to shut the glass to preserve what little heat he could. His confusion fell from his face when he saw your tears, “What’s the matter?” his voice was soft and tender as he sat across from you to hold your hands, his thumbs stroking over the back on them.

“I don’t know,” you lied in a whisper.

Robb knew. He always knew when you lied. He just nodded gently though. “I’ll start a fire,” he was on his feet again.

“I can fetch someone if you wish- “

“But I’m already here,” he teased as he knelt by the fireplace.

As he got to work in silence you padded across the floor. The stone floor felt like ice against your bare feet making you quicken your pace till you could sit on the small sofa in front of the fire Robb had started. “Easy, see,” he said, joining you on the couch, “We’ll get a heat in you,”

“Thanks,” you sniffled.

You sat in an easy silence though when you left out another sigh Robb was compelled to place an arm around your shoulder. You leant into his touch, your head rested on his shoulder and his on yours. A few moments passed before he spoke, “Jon said you were asking for me,”

You weren’t sure why you tensed, “I just worry sometimes,”

“I know,”

You couldn’t stand the next silence that followed so made a joke, “Thought you’d ran away,”

“Without you?” he said, pulling back to grin back at you, “Nah we have a deal princess. Say the word and I’ll get the horses,”

His smile made your stomach drop. It all felt like one big tease, “I thought,” you began to stutter, “You may have been running from me,”

Robb’s face fell, “Why would I do that?”

You sighed, turning to face the flames again as the tears threatened to spill, “It’s not like you chose this marriage. You weren’t exactly ever given the option. I wouldn’t blame you if you objected to it,” you muttered.

When he pulled away you could’ve sobbed but it was quickly replaced by confusion when he knelt in front of you, “Why would I object? all I desire is to be a good and faithful husband to you and may gods help me I will be. I wouldn’t desire another option if I was given a thousand,”

“Why?” you could feel venom briming in your voice, “Because my dowery? Because the king commanded it?”

The hurt on his face felt like a stab to the gut but his words only twisted the knife, “Because I love you,” he took your hands in his, “and I understand that you don’t feel that way for me and may never, but nothing will stop the way I- “

You didn’t even realise you’d moved till you pulled back from the kiss. Without thinking your lips had found his and now you stared into his eyes. It only lasted a second before Robb lusted forward, reconnecting the kiss into a messy, desperate thing.

As you felt him raise, you followed, standing to kiss him as his arms wrapped around your back, pulling you flush against him. Your hands rested on his shoulders, now fully able to appreciate his strength.

You wanted more but he pulled away, your lips chased his making Robb breathe out a laugh. “You’re something else,” he muttered, a grin on his face, “I can’t imagine not wanting to be with you,”

This time your arms tightened, burying your head into his neck as you hugged him close. Robb followed suit, his muscular arms keeping your warmer than the fire, “I feel the same way,” you eventually managed to stutter out, “But I- “

“You don’t have to say it,” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head, “I understand,”

“How did I get so lucky?” you pulled back to smile up at him.

He just smiled back, “I ask myself that each night,”

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@kimm4710

This is soo cute🥰

⭑ Colder than snow ⭑

Pairing: Robb Stark x Greyjoy!Bsf!Reader

A/N: Lost the ask so can't tag the person who requested it. Also I love Catelyn but in this fic she is a little mean.

Request: Yes

Summary: Growing up in Winterfell as a hostage was difficult, luckily Robb took you in but years later your friendship threatens to break when tensions rise and you have been planned to send away.

Warnings: Fluff and Angst. Heated arguments. Making out and angry Robb.

Word count: 1.8k

Growing up in Winterfell with your half brother Theon was hard on a little girl’s mind. Being a year younger than Theon meant he always told you what to do, you had a close bond with him, despite him acting like a cunt sometimes but he cared for you. As the bastard daughter of Balon Greyjoy you were captured along with Theon by the Starks. Sadly both Sansa and Arya wanted nothing to do with you. 

But when you first met Robb he was kind, well mannered and handsome. He took you and Theon in and made sure you were treated well. This obviously made you develop certain affections for him. Of course you knew he was to marry a high born lady, as he was to inherit Winterfell. You always thought he had no interest in you, oh how wrong you were. Most people of Winterfell still didn’t see you as part of them but Robb saw you differently. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever met, and an even more courageous and humorous personality. He had always felt captivated by you. 

Born from salt and sea even though your mother was a servant at Pyke he still thought highly of you. For years you had to prove your worth, so you trained with the sword, practised bow and arrow and rode a horse like no other man in Winterfell. As time passed the two of you grew very close, attached at the hip and unable to separate, you were the best of friends. 

Snowflakes cluttered your hair, boots cracked the snow underneath your feet as you made your way to the godswood. Lately Theon had been acting even worse than usual and he started to get on your nerves. Sometimes you could strangle him. Not only that, but Catelyn Stark had been colder to you than ever. You could relate to Jon on that matter but he never really wanted to talk to you about it, preferring you as a sparring partner and keeping to polite greetings. You heard the whispers around Winterfell, Catelyn Stark was seeking to marry you off. 

She had never liked you, or Theon, but at least he served purpose as squire and could become a knight one day. But what purpose did you have? In truth she was afraid, afraid of the way Robb, her favourite son, looked at you. She needed you to leave, so she could find a proper match for the future Warden of the North. A Greyjoy as the Lady of Winterfell? The very daughter of the man who rebelled against her family? She couldn’t think of anything worse. But whispers travelled by wind and anyone who went outside could catch them.

You stared up at the bright red leaves of the tree, your people, or former people, might’ve believed in the Drowned God but you were pulled in as a little girl by the Old Gods. You found solace in them, and in the Godswood. It was always so peaceful, so quiet. You didn’t feel like a burden here. You felt annoyed and angry at everyone. Robb has been busy lately, leaving with his father to visit other houses in the north. Or visiting the Wall. Loneliness wasn’t a thing you were used to. And missed Yara, she always defended you, spoke up for you. The big sister you needed. But you hadn’t seen her in years.

And lately, loneliness was the only thing you felt.  Deep in thought, the cracking of snow didn’t reach your ears until he stood right behind you. “You weren’t in the training yard, or at the gates to greet me like usual.” Robb’s low and honeyed voice spoke up. He was honestly the last person you wanted to see right now. You felt overstimulated and stuck in a routine of worrying, anxiety and more worrying. “What are you trying to say?” You didn’t even face him while answering. “That something is off about you, we have been off.” He said as he walked in front of you. If you weren’t going to turn to him, he would turn to you.

“You look upset. What’s wrong?” Robb continued. Although you were clearly not in the mood to talk. “I wish you had never befriended me.” The words left your mouth before you could stop yourself. “I’m sorry?” Robb asked, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips. He was very confused. Clearly he had no clue about his mother’s plans. “Are you really this thick? You have no clue what is happening do you?” You finally looked him in the eye. Tears welling as you took in his beautiful face. He had been growing his beard lately and he looked even more handsome, more grown, more suited to be married off to anyone but you. 

“I- No what? I just came back from Karhold. My father wanted to speak personally to Rickard Karstark about the renovations there I- I don’t know what is happening.” He sounded so confused and so worried. “Well maybe ask your mother, since she is behind all this.” You snapped. Did he just not care? Of course not, you were just a friend, nothing more. “My mother? What the fuck are you talking about?” He was growing more upset by the minute. “She wants me gone, I don’t know why. Maybe she just doesn’t like me. She probably never has.” You looked back at the huge tree in front of you. 

Robb stepped closer, grabbing your arm. You pulled away. If you had to leave, you would leave as distant as possible from him. It would hurt less, hopefully. “I didn’t have to take you in, I didn’t have to befriend you but it just happened. How could you possibly hate me for that? After all I’ve done for you!” His voice got louder each word he spoke, he grew angry at your behaviour. How was this his fault?

“Well you shouldn’t have! It would make leaving less painful!” You yelled back. “Don’t do this, don’t rush into goodbyes when I haven’t even spoken to my mother yet. Let alone my father. He would never just turn you away! You know he has a soft spot for you. Please, don’t give up.” He begged, Robb Stark never begged. But he would beg for you, he would do anything to keep you at his side. You didn’t say anything. Robb sighed and left you to your thoughts. Apparently the first thing he would be doing back at Winterfell would be picking a fight with his mother.

Lady Stark was sowing a beautiful red leaf pattern on one of Rickon’s shirts. Arya and Sansa at both her sides, trying to mimic her movements on their own pieces of fabric. Since tensions had risen at Winterfell, Catelyn thought it would be good to spend some time with her daughters to distract her from all the ruckus. But the peace was soon disturbed when her eldest son burst open the door. She knew why he was here, and she dreaded the conversation to come. 

“Leave. Both of you.” His voice was cold and demanding. He sounded like his father. Both the girls dumped the fabric on the table and hurriedly left the room. When the door closed behind them only then did he speak again. “What is this I hear about marrying her off.” Catelyn sighed and put the shirt down on her lap. “Robb. Please, it would be best for the girl. She is getting older and has no place here.” She began but got cut off by Robb’s booming voice. “She has a place! By my side! The place where she has always been and where she always will be!” Catelyn knew she would get a reaction from him, but him starting to admit that he wanted her to be by his side? Always? Was new. “I might not have seen before but you have woken me up from this woolly dream. It is her. It always has been her. And she will stay by my side.” Robb didn’t even give his mother a chance to speak when he already turned on his heel and left the room. 

Hours went by but Robb could not find you. He had now even sent men out and spoke to his father about his worries. He needed to speak to you, to confess his love. Before it was too late. Panic grew as the men returned at the hour of the bat, still no sign of you. Where could you have gone? Where could you have so easily disappeared? Where the fuck where y- Of course, how did he not think of it. When you were children you found this little shed, overgrown by nature and well hidden but he still knew the markings on the trees to follow. It was the only place where you could’ve gone.

Leaving with just Grey Wind and a lantern. Holding one of your tunics, Grey Wind followed the exact path you took as children to your secret hide out. He was right. He could see the place had been disturbed but still well hidden and unbeknownst to his men. Grey Wind sat outside as he stepped foot into the shed. There you were, sat in the corner with some books stolen from Winterfell’s library. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” Robb smiled. You couldn’t help but smile back, deep down it felt good, comforting, that he would still look for you. Even after your fight. He walked over and sat down next to you. 

Robb tapped his foot awkwardly on the floor, he knew the words. He knew exactly what he wanted to tell you but he was scared. Deep down he knew you loved him but he couldn’t be sure. “I really don’t want to lose you.” You started, closing the book and putting it on the pile next to you. “You won’t, I’ll make sure of that.” He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you and smiled. Noticing all the little details that made you so beautiful. “It’s you. It's always been you.” You turned to him, lips slightly parted. Is he- confessing right now? “I love you. I won't let anyone take you away from me and you are-” He rambled but got cut off. You pressed your lips to his. The realisation of what you had done settled in and you quickly pulled back.

But Robb gave you no time to answer as he pulled you back in by your jaw. Your lips started moving back against him. Hands on his face and his arms around your waist. The kiss grew hungry and desperate. The cabin got hot as your lips moved hungrily against each other. His tongue softly grazed your bottom lip, allowing him in, he moved his tongue against yours. Both your short breaths and kissing sounds filling the cabin. He pulled back suddenly. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” He grinned. You pressed your face in his neck, holding him close. “Me too.”

Lord Stark Robb Stark x Wife LannisterReader

summary: It was a stupid argument and Robb knows he has fucked up after you threw his title in his face. Fine. He doesn't need you or so he thought. He quickly realizes that he made a mistake and that he does need you more than he thought.

warnings: canon-typical misogyny, curse, Robb is kind of an ass but he will come around in the end, fluff.

words: 3.728

A/N: slightly inspired by this post by @dipperscavern .Thank you for the inspo :) // Gif not mine// AO3 // requests are open :)

Be kind and have fun 🧡

"And maybe if you would just stop acting like a spoilt brat and shut the fuck up for a second I could hear my own thoughts. You are getting on my last nerves." his voice is hoarse from screaming. Both of his hands are angrily clenched into fists as he leans his arms over the back of his chair. He glares at you angrily through the room. The moment his words leave his mouth, he sees something shift in you. Just a moment ago, you were shouting at him in anger, pacing back and forth, eyes sparkling with anger when you look at him.

Now you stand there frozen, your eyes wide with tears. Robb bites his lip and prepares to apologize. But with your next breath, you straighten up, hiding all your feelings behind a mask.

"As you wish, Lord Stark." your voice lacks any emotions, not even anger anymore.

Robb's ears start ringing and he knows he messed up. You never call him Lord Stark. Your Grace, sometimes, at public events or in jest, Love and Robb. Most of the time you just call him Robb. He is your Robb. Not Lord Stark, not your Grace, not the King, just Robb. And he doesn't want to be anything else. He wants to be your Robb.

You sink into a perfect curtsy before him, and in that moment, Robb doesn´t see his wife but your mother in you. It makes his skin crawl. Cersei raised you to be a perfect princess, and it took him ages to get through that facade. Now it frightens him how quickly you have raised your walls again and how you go from his Stark Queen back to beeing a Lannister Princess again in just seconds. You lift your chin a little, and Robb no longer knows what he wanted to say. He feels as if his chambers have become several degrees colder. Without another word, you turn around, your hair blowing your scent over to Robb, it feels like a slap in his face. As you storm out of the chambers in anger he wants to follow you, but that's exactly what you want him to do. Robbs knows that he has gone too far, despite he stays behind. He won't give you what you want and follow you like a lost puppy. He reaches for his wine, and curses softly. Gods, sometimes you are unbearable.

It was a silly argument. One of the Ladies at court had called you Lady Lannister behind your back, and it had upset you. You demanded that Robb punish her. At first, he thought you were joking. To punish a Lady because his wife heard a rumor? His lords would rebel immediately, and he would understand them. So instead of agreeing with you he started laughing. You exploded with rage. Of course your argument doesn´t stop there. Things between you and Robb escalated and in the end, you both were just shouting at eachother without really knowing why you were angry at the beginning . Robb rubs his hands over his face. You will calm down again and come back, then you can talk about it like adults. Of course, he would apologize for his stupid comment. Yes, you get on his nerves, but he doesn't want it any other way. You know that, right? Robb turns to his daily tasks. He is a king, he doesn't have time to wonder about his wife's mood all day long.

Robb was wrong, you don´t come back to resolve your dispute reasonably. He hasn't seen or spoken to you all day. He only caught a glimpse when he watched you walking through the courtyard of Winterfell with Sansa from his window. Grey Wind at your side. Traitor.

He doesn't quite understand why you got so worked up. You are a Stark, no matter what people say, no matter what people call you. Since the Lannisters imprisoned Eddard Stark, your loyalty to the North has been called into question countless times. So it's nothing new for you. A few of Robb's lords had begged him to let you fall, but Robb had remained stubborn. You are his wife! If the Lords want him as king, they must accept you as queen. You have been a Stark since the moment he took you under his cloak in Winterfell's Goodwood. So why is it such a big problem for you to get called Lady Lannister? It's just a name.

A name that has been tarnished itself with shame over the last years. Broken promises, war crimes, incest. Still just a name.

Robb reaches for a cup of wine and takes a sip, he is stucked in his work. He would like to hear your opinion on one of the letters he received, but you would probably just dismiss him with a sassy response and slam the door in his face. It would end with Robb standing at your door, begging that you let him in. He doesn't want to expose himself like that.

He sighs and leans back a little in his chair. He tries to understand why you get so worked up about an insignificant Lady, as if the thoughts of others actually matter to you.

You cried in his arms just once when the truth about your real parentage came to light. You were so ashamed of just being yourself. A product of incest. Robb had believed it in the first second. You look like a younger version of Cersei Lannister. Lioness through and through.

That makes you dangerous, you are so beautiful that he becomes weak. Robb knew this the moment you stepped out of the carriage, during King Robert's visit to Winterfell all those years ago.

His thoughts wander to the moment he saw you for the first time. His mother had dressed Robb up because he would meet you for the first time today. He has to make a good first impression. That's what his mother had said. This agreement has been made when he was 5. Robb Stark, heir of Winterfell, would marry the king's eldest daughter. You should have traveled to Winterfell a long time ago to live with the Starks, but your mother had screamed, raged, cry and did not allow it. So Robb meets his betrothed, the princess from the warm south, only a week before the wedding. Theon had made jokes, and Jon had looked at him with pity. But all of that didn't matter when he saw you for the first time. A glance from your green eyes was enough and Robb has the need to fall to his knees before you and give you the world.

Robb shakes his head slightly and sits up straight. He has to answer a few of these letters today. He needs to concentrate.

It’s getting later and later, and Robb is becoming increasingly restless inside. He doesn't know what it is. He can't quite put his finger on it. Something is not right. Robb rubs his tired eyes and blinks a few times before he can recognize the letters in front of him again. As the moon is already high in the sky and the candles have burned down so much that Robb can hardly see anything, he gives up. He stands up with striped limbs and stretches, yet his back aches slightly from all the sitting. Robb would simply continue tomorrow. His steps lead him through his home to his chambers.

He slowly opens the door and sighs. He is greeted with emptiness. He hadn't expected you to be here, but a small part of him had hoped for it. Your side of the bed is empty, which means you have gone to sleep in your own chambers. Which are only yours in name. He could count on one hand how many nights you spent in your own chambers without him. He lies down in bed and stares at the ceiling. His stomach begins to growl. For a moment, Robb is confused. He can´t remember the last time he went to bed hungry. He closes his eyes. Of course not, you always bring him something to eat on those nights when he is brooding over papers and letters for a long time. You always bring him something from the dinnerhall, usually already in your nightgown. Then you sit next to him while he eats. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you don't, sometimes you discuss problems, he asks you for advice, or you inform him about the latest gossip at his court. You always enjoy your time together. Robb opens his eyes. Damn! He is an idiot.

He tosses and turns in bed for quite a while. He can't find sleep. Every now and then, he dozes off briefly. He gets up at the frist rays of sunlight, without feeling refreshed. Nevertheless, he gets dressed and leaves his bedroom. There is no trace of Grey Wind, but Robb is sure that the direwolf has taken his place by your side. And for a second, he is jealous of hos wolf. Robb decides against breaking his fast in the great hall and instead goes to his study. On his way through the halls of Winterfell, he has to stop a few times because someone wants something from him. Robb is trying to be friendly, but the argument with you and the almost sleepless night is wearing on his courtesy. Upon reaching his destination, he is greeted by a new pile of letters and parchment rolls. Robb would prefer to turn around and run away. He is not sure if he can endure another day full of work and without you.

"Please ask My Lady Wife if she would like to break her fast with me." Robb turns to a servant.

"Of course your Grace." he bows and leaves the room. The door had not yet properly closed when it was opened again and one of his guards entered.

"Your Grace." the guard begins to talk. Robb want to crawl out of his skin or scream, or both. Instead, he forces a smile onto his face and turns to the new visitor. "It is the goldsmith."

Robb nods, and the man steps in and bows.

"Good morning, your Grace. I am bringing your delivery. I hope she agrees to you." the goldsmith lets his apprentice step forward to present the golden necklace with the Direwolfheadpendant. Robb has to suppress an eye roll. He hates this theater. A waste of time for him. It would be easier if the jeweler simply handed him the necklace.

You love that. You have lived for sixteen years in the Red Keep in King's Landing, raised in all the luxury, splendor, and gold of the world. From the moment you were born, everone bend the knee before you.He can't blame you.

The gold of the chain is intricately crafted. The wolf's head detailed.

Most in the north prefer silver, most of his clothing is adorned with silver as well. The North had its own silver mines. Gold had to be imported. That's expensive and time-consuming. Impractical. Northmen despise the impractical.

With you it´s different, you shine in gold. And that is Robb's fault. He loves to gift you with jewelry, dresses, elaborate hairpins and tiaras. He can't help it. If you want to bathe in gold, he would make it possible.

Of course, you behave like a spoiled brat. He spoils you.

He praises the work of the goldsmith and gives him a few more gold coins, even though he has already spent a small fortune on the piece of jewelry. He doesn't care. If necessary, he would walk all the way to Essos to get you a gift. He would conquer the whole world just to make you happy. Robb places the velvet cushion with the chain on the table while the goldsmith and his apprentice leave his study again.

His Page comes back with your answer. "The queen has already broken her fast, My Lord."

"Fine." Robb eats his breakfast alone and then throws himself into work. A longing for you pulls at him, but he tries to push it away and focus on his work. Later today, he has to meet with Lord Karstark, actually he had planned that you to accompany him to this meeting. Karstark wanted compensation, in his opinion, his family suffered the most from the war. Wasn't it Robb who lost his father? Karstark has been discussing with him for ages, he always wants more. Robb had hoped that you could distract Karstark a little. The lord eats out of your hand like a stray puppy. Robb is sure that you would rather pout than help him. But he didn't help you either. Frustrated, he sinks deeper into his chair. Maybe he had behaved incorrectly after all. He should have supported you. Of course, he can't punish a Lady over a rumor, but laughing was the worst thing he could have done. Nevertheless, he thinks that your punishment of silence is a bit excessive.

All day long, Robb sends you pages delivering his invitations. Would you like to go for a walk with him? Would you like to go riding with him? You could take out the falcons and have a little hunt. You send them all back with a no as an answer.

Robb knows that you are stubborn. The day goes by and he still doesn't get any reaction from you. He has shown that he is ready to make amends. He curses your stubbornness, even though he knows very well that he would never give up your willpower for an obedient woman.

He reacts a bit too annoyed with Lord Karstark and dismisses him after a short time with an unfriendly comment about willingness to sacrifice and loyalty. An angry lord is a problem for later.

Robb postpones the petitions from his subjects and instead trying to focus on expenses, taxes, and planning for the next harvest. His mood is extremely bad.  

Not even a letter from Arya, or Lady Baratheon as she is now called, from Storm's End lifts his spirits. Baratheon, Stark, Lannister. Arya surely wouldn't make such a fuss just because someone addresses her as Stark instead of Baratheon. But Arya's family does not consist of incestuous, murderous traitors.

In Robb's war against your family, you have completely devoted yourself to his cause. You had burned all your bridges and stood by his side. You have laid aside your Lannister colors and fully identified as a Stark. Gods, you even advised against releasing your uncle/father and keeping him as a valuable hostage. He slowly realizes that he behaved wrongly. Instead of maning up and going to you to apologizes to you, he sends another page with the question of whether you want to have lunch with him, and not even an hour later, another one asking if you’d like to pass the time with a card game in the glass gardens.

In the afternoon, you have enough. Furiously, you storm into his chambers. Robb sits at the table with Dacey Mormont and Smalljon. The conversation immediately falls silent when you enter, and they look at you.

"Please leave. We're going to fight now." you say with a perfect, false smile. You eyes are bursting with anger, it's the only thing that shatters your perfect facade. Even your hair is tied back in strict, southern braids, just like you always wear when you're angry with Robb. Because you know exactly that he hates it.

Smalljon laughs, gives Robb a hearty pat on the shoulder, and gets up. "The lioness is showing her claws." he laughts.

Dacey rolls her eyes at the comment and then pushes the other person out of the room. The door closes behind them. Robb takes a deep breath and stands up. Disarmed, he spreads his arms wide. But before he can say anything, you already start to grumble in a cold tone with sparkling eyes.

"First you claim that I get on your nerves and that you can't stand my presence, but when I give you what you want, you can't leave me alone? What is that supposed to mean?“

When did he ever say that he can't stand your presence? He feels anger rising within him because you are putting words in his mouth, but he takes a deep breath to calm himself. He wants to make peace, not argue again.

"I don't want to argue. That doesn't make any sense."

You snort disdainfully. "I want to argue! That's enough semse."

"No, I mean it doesn't make sense because I agree with you," he says. You stop. You didn't see that coming. You push your lower lip slightly forward, you've spent half the night thinking about what to throw at him next. Now he's taking the wind out of your sails. But Robb recognizes from your raised eyebrow and the way your eyes sparkle that you are skeptical. "I should have taken you seriously. And under no circumstances should I have laughed at you. I'm sorry."

"You hurt me." you’re raising your chin slightly again, maintaining your arrogant facade. Robb dares to take a step closer to you and notices with joy that you do not back away. "You said I'm annoying you."

"I shouldn't have said that. I doesn´t mean it. I was just angry. I know that's no excuse. It was wrong. I'm really sorry. You're not annoying me. Gods, I missed you so much, and you weren't even three hallways away from me. I can't stand it when you're angry with me."

You release your tense posture, your gaze softens, but you’re not smiling yet. Robb takes the last steps towards you and takes your hand. Immediately, your fingers close around his. Robb feels a sense of relief.

"I can somehow understand you. I know that I can be difficult. Especially when we argue," you admit softly.

"I would rather spend my whole life arguing with you than loving someone else. I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean to hurt you. I want you to know that I understand why you are angry. I did not stand by your side. That was wrong."

You look into his eyes, and Robb feels like you can see right into his soul. And then finally you smile. No false smile, no, you smile sincerely. Robb's heart skips a beat. Your smile is enough, and his heart beats faster, like a lovesick teenager. He is glad that you allow him to see that smile again.

"I forgive you," you say. Robb pulls you into a hug. Immediately, his arms close around you as he pulls you to him. He takes a deep breath and inhales your scent. For the first time in days, he feels truly relaxed. You snuggle up to him, fitting perfectly in his arms. He kisses your head.

"I love you," he whispers in your hair.

You detach yourself of him to look at him again. "I love you," you reply to him. Robb could die here and now, for he would never experience more happiness than when you say those words to him. You rise up on your tiptoes to kiss him. Robb pulls you closer to him. Relief, happiness, and love flood through him. When your lips left his he just have to smile.

"I have something for you."

Confused, you look at him. Robb points to the necklace lying on the corner of the table.

"You think you can buy my forgiveness with gifts?" you say, faking annoyance, but a smile dances on your lips as you run your fingers over the fine craftsmanship.

"No, of course not. I had already ordered that" Robb walks past you and takes the necklace from the table. "May I?"“

You turn your back to him and move your braids to the side so he can place the necklace around your slender neck. His fingers close the clasp and gently stroke your neck. He can't help it and lets his lips glide over the soft skin. You turn around in his arms and smile.

"It is beautiful. Thank you, Robb." you reply and reach for his hand.

"You are Lady Stark. My Lady Stark. Never forget that, and I will make sure no Lord or Lady never forget it either."

Tears well up in his eyes, and for a moment, he fears he has said something wrong again, but then you pull him into a tight embrace. You bury your face in his chest and he holds you close. You just stand there. He enjoys being close to you. Suddenly he is overcome by tiredness.

"Come to bed with me." he whispers.

You start to giggle and pull away from him a little. "I forgave you three seconds ago and you already order me into your bed? That is not the gentleman I married."

You married a horny teenager who didn't let you sleep a single night in the first weeks of your marriage. Robb gently leans in and kisses your forehead.

"No. I just want to sleep for a few hours. The last night without you was a nightmare."

You nod slightly, agreeing with him. You didn't sleep well alone either, you missed his warmth far too much. You smile and snuggle closer into his arms, his beard tickling your cheek, making you giggle softly, yet you lean into him.

"As you wish, my Lord Stark."

Something tightens within him. He never wants to hear those words from your mouth again.

"No. Don't say Lord Stark." Robb pulls back a little to be able to look you in the eyes. You tilt your head slightly and look at him expectantly. "Say my name."

A sincere, warm smile appears on your face. The smile is only for Robb. Then you rise onto your tiptoes to kiss him.

"As you wish, Robb." you say. Robb grinned like a little boy. He kisses your lips and your cheeks again. He takes your hand and you go back to your private chambers together. When you finally lie next to him in your bed again, he pulls you close into his arms. Your legs intertwine, and tightly wrapped with his love, he falls asleep just moments later.

✶ Lionheart

Robb Stark x (Baratheon/Lannister!) Reader

TAGS: friends to enemies to lovers, slow burn, one bed, childhood friends, arranged marriage, female rage, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, canon compliant (boooo!), major character death

NOTE: so this is also an oc fic on wp, but i wanted to try out something new! in rewriting to second person, some edits have been made. there will be no y/n, and there are other ocs in this fic (since that’s what i usually write) and reader does have some physical descriptions.

i’m in suchhhhh a robb stark brainrot atm, this is how i’m coping 🫶

TIMELINE: season / book one onwards. a mix of show & book canon!

SUMMARY: A soft heart is no curse.

You are nothing like your parents. Your mother’s first-born, most deeply adored. Born in the ashes of a victorious rebellion, you are the brightest spring child in King’s Landing. Free as the breeze whistling through the trees, love burns in your veins like sun rays. (You’re too good for this world, your mother whispers as she holds her daughter close. No one will hurt you. You’re safe here with me.)

The Pearl of King’s Landing, they called you. Sun-bright and untouchable. To be beloved by the Smallfolk is a rare gift, and you bear it proudly. A little doe beside your father, a great stag, and your mother-lion.

A soft heart is no curse. You believe it until you spend a month travelling north with your family, a trip that spins your world on its axis, and won’t let you come home. When you are left alone in a vast castle with no true company, your pretty heart can only be a curse. No one trusts a naive girl raised in the lion’s den — not even when steel cuts across your palms, blood soaking your fingers as you try to protect a boy you hardly know. Your mother was the only one who allowed you to be yourself. (The North does not find courage in the kindness of princesses.)

Your soft heart is a curse until the day Robb Stark takes it in his hands and promises to keep it safe.

Against a thousand odds, in a moment of peace within a storm of chaos, he finally accepts you. And you feel like you belong for the first time since you left the safety of the Red Keep. (No one will hurt you here with me. I’ll protect you.)

A soft heart is a beauty on a battleground. A light in the dark, an anchor. Undying, and calling for your love to come home safe. Alive. But a soft heart is only pretty until it bleeds. Until it rains. Until it screams. Until you want to claw it from your chest and throw it to the lions who claim to love you.

(Your soft heart, devoured by the Young Wolf, rots beside him.)

wattpad / playlist

━━ ACT ONE; northern attitude

prologue / coming soon

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

I love it when men look sad 😔

It just has something special, like I just want to hug them 😔 I love miserable men

Guys what are your thoughts on this. I wrote the comment the very first one ,on a tiktok where it was talked about how deanerys was 13-14 when she got pregnant. My second comment was how devastating I find it that she expected to marry her brother who is a lot older than her actually ( I know it's an age gap about 8 years but I'm not so sure). And someone asked why it is devastating since it is tradition. I think I made my point clear in my response and would like to know how you see this? My opinion stands that I think it is really sad that she expected to marry her brother who is also her abuser.

So what are your thoughts , is it wrong to finde it devastating that a childe expected to marry her brother who abuses her just because it is tradition?

Hot take:

Okay so, I don't really understand the Sansa slander, especially in the first few seasons. Beauces my girl is a child, can you blame a child for being scared of the queen and the king. Can you blame a child for having a crush and wanting said crush to like them back? I don't think so. The whole Arya is better,oh Sansa is so bad thing ,I don't understand. Both of these characters are great in my opinion and you can't really compare them.

Arya just likes swords and stuff like that, and Sansa likes embroidery and stuff. And I think they have a relatively normal sibling dynamic, cause I remember I was like that with my older sister.

Since it was five years ago for me when I watched the show and I now finished the first book, I can't really understand the dislike for Sansa.

Like she went through shit , in the show. Like watching her father die, getting humiliated as a child, getting married as a humiliation, getting married to a psycho and abused from him.

And one thing I once read in a comment section was "well we don't like her because she didn't trust Daenerys." Well why should she trust someone she doesn't know from the beginning.

I get people disliking characters, but Sansa is just a character I don't really understand why.

Can someone explain to me, because every explanation has been I've seen especially on tiktok, kinda sexist and biased, no offense.

stark men and a tyrell reader

fem! reader terms and descriptions 

a/n: this was supposed to be a brief, onetime thing but there’s just something about cregan and a tyrell reader that’s sitting with me…

robb is absolutely heart-eyed from the moment you step out of your carriage. you have the most beautiful light green and gold dress, pink roses embroidered onto the bodice above your gentle curves. you smell of roses and vanilla and honey and have the sweetest eyes and manners so robb is perhaps justifiably a little love struck at first.

but robb is observant and he sees things. you have made the entire castle love you which means the maids have the freshest linens brought to your room first and the chef bakes you all sorts of sweets. the other young lords of the north shower you with gifts and line up to dance with you at balls as you gaze down demurely and flutter your fan. you have acquired quite a large number of expensive gifts in such little time at winterfell.

and when robb is looking over battle plans and drafting mock strategy you elegantly peak over his shoulder and make a quiet suggestion that is absolutely ruthless and when robb plays out the scenario you have crushed the hypothetical opponent. he’s whipping around to ask you how you thought of that, but you have already wandered out the doors, light colored fabric swishing behind you. 

and the more he watches, the more he sees of you. a little eye roll when one of the other lords drops his hand too low during a dance, the way your long fingernails tap sharply yet quietly on the table when you hear someone say something stupid. a shake of your head and raise of your eyebrows when you turn away after having to be too sweet and too liked to get whatever it is you were after at that moment. and what he loves most of all is that look of absolutely judgmental irritation when you thought you’d been alone in the library and overheard some boys saying dirty things about one of the maids. 

and from that point on, robb is stubbornly determined - with that hardheaded resolve that men of the north all seem to have - to get to know the real you. but you have the sweet-as-a-flower act down to perfection and are not quick to break. you catch onto his little game, but against your better judgment you decide to play along. it’s endearing, almost. 

but one night at a feast you’ve been hounded all night by the incessant pining of a lord from a smaller house, who won’t let you get even a moment to breathe. and after an hour of sheer torture via the man’s slimy attempts to lure you into the hall, robb sweeps in to save you. his hand in yours as he guides you gently to the side of the room for a break. robb doesn’t say much, but with a gentleman’s smile pointedly makes a polite comment on the other man’s poor manners. and you are so annoyed and irritated you roll your eyes and utter the most scathing insult that you’ve been bottling up for the last hour.

the way his blue eyes light up would take your breath away, your lips parting slightly as he smiles at you like he’s been given a mountain of gold

“aye, there you are.”

he would say, an almost childishly proud grin on his face. 

—

cregan spots you above him on a balcony when he comes to king’s landing. it’s quiet, during the time when his army was keeping the court there. your elegantly arranged hair and delicately embroidered gown catch the stray sunlight from a window, bathing you in flecks of gold. 

the lord from the north stands below you as you gaze down with an unreadable expression - you had wanted to catch a glimpse of him to see what sort of man currently held power at the capital. what had intended to be a small scouting mission becomes a long gaze as you find yourself drawn in and cregan seems equally as enthralled. you tilt you chin down delicately, giving him a small curtesy before you slip off into the shadows of the balcony.

and it is an interesting game at play from then forth. cregan has many tasks to attend to at king’s landing, yet his eyes are constantly drawn to whatever area of the court you stand in when you are present with the other lords and ladies. you are quick to take advantage of this - introducing yourself, eyes gently on the ground as you curtesy in front of him. 

it’s a slow and sensual meting - cregan takes his time with something for the first time since he left winterfell. his eyes fall to your lips, your collarbone, the curve of your chest that’s shamelessly lifted by your corset. and despite your intention to win him over for political reasons, you can’t help but pause a moment at the way your name is said, low and deep in his northern accent. and then he holds your gaze, even and steady, like he never wants to look anywhere else. the want is mutual and strong and both of you know it. 

cregan’s taking you in, eyes firmly trained on yours as he takes your hand in his own. but instead of kissing it as you expected, he simply lifts it slightly, thumb brushing over the pressure point on your wrist. 

“-no, i haven’t had the pleasure my lady.”

he murmurs, before you can finish your sentence. 

however, the thing with cregan is that you get what you see. he has that strong, unyielding sense of stark justice and it is everything to him, which he shows at court everyday. and you have been taught and raised to be more deceptive than that. to play your enemies with a bat of your eyelashes and a sweet smile upon your lips. your family expects you to win him over for their safety and security, and you love them more than anything.

but love lust is the death of duty, is it not? both of you have ‘good’ albeit different intentions - cregan is devoted to justice and you to your family. you two have a few things to teach each other about differing perspectives and upbringings.