#jon stark x reader

[a-libra-writes]

OKAY random jon snow and robb stark brainrot but yk how cats become way more cuddly and affectionate with pregnant women? like nuzzling against them, being more alert, snuggling more, and staying close to you? what if ghost and greywind were the same? they're much more protective of you and it's a common behavior in direwolves so as soon as ghost/greywind start growling at jon/robb you guys immediately know 😭 i can just imagine waking up with their little heads resting on your belly or staying much closer to you than usual. and maybe the same with dany's dragons? obviously they're not gonna be like all over you but i can imagine them being a bit more protective and caring than usual!! thanks in advance and love ur works

Anon ur so right also this was fun and cute to do <3<3 (also kind of an AU where Jon stayed behind to be a sworn man to Robb!)

So between the two direwolves, Greywind is the more outwardly protective and aggressive. It's like he sensed something was off from the start - if you weren't aware you were pregnant, you'd be confused in Greywind's sudden interest in you. He'd sit at the doorway and linger while you went about your business, and would side-eye anyone he didn't like getting too close. You and Robb found it odd, by amusing. It all made sense once you figured out your condition.

While you found your fluffy guard dog to be sweet, it was mildly terrifying to some of the servants ... even the ones who had been at Winterfell at their lives were anxious to see a massive wolf wandering the halls like some little Southern dog. You try sending him out during the day, but in the evening, it's being at your side or bust. He will howl and make a fuss, something Greywind normally only did if he was locked away from Robb. He wants to be right at the bedside or on top of the bed, which again is something Greywind has never done, even with Robb. Greywind has never been the most affectionate of the direwolves (that was Lady), but he'd actually rest his huge muzzle on your legs and accept a few pets. Usually, Robb and Jon were the only ones who could touch him.

Your husband is torn between finding it funny and being baffled. He teases about it often. "What have you been feeding him behind my back? I bet she's given you the butcher's scraps, hm? What's gotten into you, boy?"

(Your handmaidens aren't pleased because if they enter the room while you're still asleep, there's a huge direwolf perking his head up and growling at them. You've never been able to train him out of that ...)

If he really must stay out of the bedroom, then he lurks right outside the door. As much as Robb knows it unsettles the servants and night guards, Greywind standing guard makes him feel better about your safety. He tries to keep the direwolf occupied during the day so the servants don't have to worry so much.

When you're outside, regardless if it's a short walk to the Godswood or heading to Winter Town, Greywind follows you instead. The further along in your pregnancy you get and the slower you walk, the more he stays at your side, like he always did with Robb. There are many people who worry about essentially a wild animal being so close to Lady Stark - and what'll happen when the baby's born? - but you see nothing but protectiveness in Greywind's big eyes. He's always alert and wary around you; sometimes you and Robb worry about him never getting a chance to relax.

Now, if you were with Jon, it was Ghost who would be your little shadow. Which was interesting - he was the most independent of the direwolves, often leaving for days at a time to do his own thing. He began to linger closer to Winterfell, and when you'd go outside, you'd see him several feet away from you, following along. By the time you're a few months along, he was walking right at your side. He never went inside the Keep, so when you went inside Ghost would stay in the yard, acting like ... well, a ghost, waiting for you to come back out.

It gave Jon a lot of comfort to know you had a shadow. He couldn't always be by your side because of his duties, especially if Robb traveled, and he was relieved to know Ghost was suddenly so attached and keeping you safe. The direwolf had always been fond of his wife, but in a distant way - maybe once in a while you could stoke his neck or he'd follow you for an hour out of curiosity ... but that was all. Now he was lingering, pressing his nose at your abdomen and huffing, allowing plenty of head pats and ear scratches. Jon is very endeared by it all. He'd sit right at your side, close as possible, and laugh as Ghost huffs and tries to press between you two. White fur absolutely everywhere.

The direwolves being so close and oddly affectionate means you can get away with a lot more - like, say ... sitting them down and letting you brush them, teaching them to sit or lay down, putting food on their nose and having them wait for the signal to eat it. Robb is aghast that Greywind is actually being obedient (until he gets tired of it), Jon just laughs and doesn't expect Ghost to stick to it. He assumes once you have the baby, his direwolf will go back to his adventurous, aloof self. In the back of his head, Robb is a little worried Greywind will get possessive once the baby is born. He plans to bring Greywind with him on his travels, in case he gets too overly protective of you and the child.

[jellyfishsthings]

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

[randommultifandomrants]

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

[winnysplayground]

“he’s so babygirl”

babe he just killed somebody.

[myladysapphire]

Love, the death of duty

duty part two

married near six years, you learn that duty is truly the death of love, and yet when Robbs brother, jon, returns to winterfell, you find that perhpas you where wrong, perhaps love is the death of duty.

You can find the requests here and here

word count: 3,838

CW: MDI, 18+, Smut, cheating, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), slight breeding kink (if you squint), not beta read!

Jon Snow x Frey!reader/ Robb Stark x Frey!reader

Masterlist | Part one

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Jon snow had been at the wall for near ten years before he returned home. Ten years, six as lord commander before he was betrayed by his own men. And though he had gone to the wall of his own volition, a choice he made to better himself, to find a place in the world, he knew it was time to return to Winterfell. His brother Rob had written him begging him and asking for his homecoming, and even declaring as King he could commanded him home, and now he was finally listening.

He didn’t know what to expect, if he would be welcomed or scorned.

But one thing he did not expect was you.

He knew his brother had married, had had children, but never did he expect you to be his wife.

Someone of such beauty and kindness, and with such a profound view of duty it made his heart ache.

He had expected you to be harsh, almost too similar to the lady Catelyn. But instead, you had shown him nothing but kindness.

“Jon Snow?” you asked, approaching his as he brought his horse into the stable.

“My lady” he greeted, head bowing in recognition.

“It’s an honour to finally meet you” she spoke, a soft smile on her lips. And Jon had been struck instantly by you, you smile had stirred something in him that he had never felt before. And the way you had gone out of your way to greet him, even walking him to his rooms, rooms you had picked and had made ready for him.

You had made him feel welcomed in a way no one had before at Winterfell. Of course, his half siblings had always welcomed him, but he never found a home here, until you made sure he did.

“How far along are you” he asked, as you walked him to his chambers.

“Near eight moons now.”

“And it is your third?”

You flinched, had his eyes never left yours, stuck on you at every moment, he was sure he would have missed it.

“No, my second” you spoke that part with happiness, the second however was a tone he had hear many times, the tone of a lady fulfilling her duty, “Robbs third”.

He had never thought Robb would father a bastard, he knew of Jons woes and how hard his life had been, and yet he had actively gone about it. He felt nothing but anger at the fact and even more at the clear pain in your eyes. It was clear from the start what your marriage was, there was no love or respect, simply wedding vows long broken.

He shook his head in disappointment, “I am sorry, my lady, I did not know” he hesitated for a moment, as the doors to his chambers opened. They were different from his youth, where he now slept in the same halls as his half siblings and not in the servants quarters as he once had, “Robb only spoke of a wife and two children, I never thought-“

“Do not worry, Jon…I am not offended” you shook your head, turning to face him, “it is something I must bear…not you”.

“I am sorry, my lady” he bowed his head, as he entered his room.

“I hope it is to your liking, I…Sansa told me a few things that you liked in her visit a few moons ago, and Arya helped find the things you had left from before”.

“It is perfect, my lady…truly it is more than enough”.

You smiled, insisting he call you by your name, “let me know of anything you may need” you said turning to leave.

And Jon remained struck by you and your kindness, not many would make a bastard feel so welcome, especially one scorned as you had been.

They say that duty is the death of love, and that love is the death of duty.

You believed you were the very meaning of this statement.

Your marriage was a one of duty, such duty that love had died before it could even blossom, and where Robb had neglected his own duty to you, in favour of love, causing duty to die for him, and love to blossom. But not with you, never with you.

You had known that every day of your marriage.

Even more so the day she had died.

He had spent every moment of her labours beside her, a vast contrast to yours.

Holding her hand and crying tears of joy and then of grief.

And you realised you were only a duty, a duty he happily forgot of.

And yet for a year you had chosen to ignore it, only for more hurt to be caused.

And in the  five moons since that day, the day where he chooses the ghost of a dead woman over his wife, you realised there would never be love where there was duty.

Though you painted the image of the dutiful wife, happy and content to be a wife, mother and lady, you still craved love.

Desired it.

Even if it was not with your husband.

There was nothing, not even respect to be found with him.

Not when know you lost all hope of ever having a marriage of love. It seemed to be the burden of woman. Where men can fuck and love as many women as they desire, woman are more often than not left with the duty of marriage.

You and Robb were strangers now, you had moved away from your old chambers, though still in the great keep, your rooms were now closer to Jon’s quarters than his.

Jon.

Your mind was stuck on him, though he seemed shy and guarded, you couldn’t stop of thinking of him. Assessing every detail of him, taking in every word he spoke, every action he did.

Of the ways his eyes followed you, how he seemed to hang on every word you said.

In all honestly, she sought him out more often than not, they even developed a routine. Spending their lunches together and always at beside each other at dinner.

And though you both had your duties, he had been given as hand of the king, and yet despite his ever-building duties, you both saw each other much more often than what was appropriate.

He made time for you where Robb neglected you.

He cared for you where Robb scorned you.

And as time passed, you found Cregan more in the presence of Jon than his own father, found yourself looking for Jon wherever you went you slowly realised that you loved Jon in a way you had only dreamt about loving Robb.

He was always there, either by your side or in your thoughts.

Whereas your husband was never there either in presence or thought, even less in the lives of his children.

He had no quells when Talissa mother came from the summer isles and took Minisa away, eland you had even less. A part of you wished you had cared more, having taken care of her for the past two years and yet you only felt slight relief when she left, though you would never admit it.

Even as you remember the conversation you and her had had years before.

“do you hate me?” you remember her asking, as she bounced baby Minisa in her arms, and you Cradled Cregan in yours.

“why do you think that?” you sighed, having only been civil, out of fear of facing a side of your husband you did not think existed.

“why shouldn’t i?”

“you are the reason I will never find love in my marriage, I resent you for it but I suppose you resent me for marrying Robb, for being his duty”

“I am more jealous, I am simple a mistress, the mother of his bastard, you are the wife the mother of his heir. You have everything-“

“no I don’t” you spoke softly, “I do not have love, respect or happiness in my marriage, I do not have a husband that wants me” you placed Cregan softly in his crib. “I do not hate you, but I will not be your friend…I can’t not when you have stolen the one thing I wanted…love”

“I didn’t mean too”

“I know, and that’s why I don’t hate you…Robb is the one at fault here, not us…and yet I must face the burden of his mistakes, I must act for duty where he can act for love…if I hate anyone it is him”

She nodded in understanding.

You stood in silence, watching your babes as they fell to sleep, neither of you saying a word.

As most of your time was spent with her.

“would you keep them apart?” she spoke after moments.

“they are siblings, half or not…I would not keep them apart if they did not want to be”

“good” she smiled.

And yet that had changed.

The day she died, the bed fever taking her and yet she had asked for you as she suffered in pain.

“do not hate her” she breathed, “I do not ask you to love her…but please don’t hate her” “I won’t” you swallowed, a feeling of sadness washing over you.

“my mother- my mother will come for her…please don’t let her” she breathed heavily, “I want her with Robb…please” she coughed, her eyes drooping.

Robb barged back in the room, stopping the conversation. And moons later you could do little to respect her final words as her mother took Minisa, little as Robb command her gone, and even less as a weight began to lift of your shoulder.

You hated it, how easy it was to forgo a dying woman’s final words, but you had forced her mother to write to Robb and allow Minisa to write to Creagan. You would let them know there sibling even if they were an ocean apart.

Your marriage was a farce and the birth of your second child was all the proof you needed to show that.

A moon since Jon return and yet you had grown more closer to him in a moon than you had with your husband in six years.

Where Robb had left both times you went into labour, taking days to visit, Jon had held your hand through it all, and had been the first after you and the midwife to hold the babe.

If anyone saw you both, the way he was with you every day and night, sleeping in your rooms, albeit on a coat, it  would have been easy to assume he was your husband, especially with the way his gaze never left yours, his hand holding yours through your pains and never letting go, even after.

“What will you name him?” he asked, after you had finally been left alone, the babe cradled in his arm.

“Eddard, mayhaps” you started, though there was hesitation at the name, “I know Robb wanted to name…to name Minisa that is she were a boy”.

“So not Eddard” Jon spoke, handing the babe to you, he crouched to your side, “mayhaps Edric or Benjen?” he suggested, Benjen you assumed after his uncle.

You hummed, “Edric is a good name” tasting the name on your tongue, “Cregan and Edric”

“So, Edric Stark?” he spoke, tone soft as he gazed up at you.

“yes”

With the birth of your second, you deemed your Marriage officially over, you had given him and heir and a spare and even then, his sister Sansa had married Willis Tyrell and birthed her own sons, and Rickon had begun to court an Erena Glover. You were sure Robb would find no shortage of heirs and so was he. And he was more than content to let you be, ignoring your presence at any time bar feasts and officially Gatherings, or on occasion the few times he and you were in the same room with your children.

You and Jon however, your friendship had blossomed into so much more.

With lingering stares and casual touches, you felt your heart blossom in his presence.

no longer did you feel the chains of duty, no longer did the word duty fill your mind and taunt your nights.

Now the word love did.

Jon had been here six moons now and you were thoroughly and completely in love with him.

Your mind was always on him, you time spent with him or your children. Even Cregan and Edric spent more time with him than Robb.

Robb seemed to care little for the family, stuck in his own misery, misery he made himself and every effort to get out of it was half arsed and only done as a distraction with no true meaning to it.

But Love, you finally knew what it was, you felt it when Jon looked at you and when you looked at him and yet neither of you said it.

Neither of you were prepared to cross the line.

You were still married by law and in the eyes of the gods, and yet there was no marriage. Nothing of your marriage followed the meaning of the word.

Your heart belonged to Jon, you just needed to tell him.

A year into Jons homecoming and your fleeting romance though nothing ever was said or acted upon.

But now you stood under the weirwood tree, your heart bared to Jon.

“Jon” you whispered, his head in your lap, your hand running through his curls.

“yes?” he hummed, focusing his gaze away from the book he had been reading.

“I…I love you” you final spoke, after moons of feeling it, of the sheer desire for him and want to bare yourself to him. And yet you had waited, for what you did not know, but today, in this moment it felt perfect.

He smiled, a pure smile of joy at your words, as he quickly moved of your lap “I love you” he spoke in return, his face moving inches away from yours, your breaths becoming one for a moment before your lips where on his.

You had never kissed anyone before, even after all these years of marriage, only a small peck on your wedding day.

But this, a slow passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of your emotions, your love into it was so different than a small dutiful peck.

Your lips followed his movements, moving with his, as he pulled you into his lap. Your hands moving to his hair as you continued to kiss.

A low moan left you, only to be swallowed by Jon as he began to kiss you harder, more passionately.

“Jon” you whimpered, separating your lips from his.

His face chasing yours as you moved away.

“what is it?” he hummed, his hands caressing your sides.

“anyone could see us…” though the thrill of being caught was not lost on you, you were still a married woman, and your children’s legitimacy would be put into question if you were caught.

He hummed, “come with me” he spoke, moving you off his lap before standing a reaching for your hand.

You had thought you had explored the gods woods in its entirety, found every nook and cranny and yet it seemed a youth spent running the woods had allowed Jon to find a spot only years spent getting lost in the woods would allow you to find.

It was a small cave, covered in leaves and blocked off by trees and endless bushes.

A small whole a the top allowed the summer sun to shine through, lighting up the small space and to reveal a moss covered floor.

“we could go back to your rooms…or mine” he spoke, hesitantly, unsure if you would approve of his small little space. It was clear that he had been here a good few time, like this was his space away from everyone, and the basket sat in the corner was a clear indicator of it. With a blanket, a book and an old bottle of wine.

you turned to face him, “its fine…we can save a bed for another time” you said, before leaning up and pressing your lips to his once more, in a heated, sloppy kiss.

He slowly backed you into the wall as he kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist as he began to play the laces on the side of your dress.

You gently pushed him off you, sending him a teasing smile as you started to undress in front of him.

You had never been fully naked in front of anyone, not even Robb, something always stayed on, a barrier from truly being intimate.

And as Jon joined you, undressing himself and allowing you both to stand bare before the other, you had never felt more intimate. Never felt that a moment was more right.

With you sat upon the blanket, Jon moved towards you, caressing your face and leaning his body over yours.

Your eyes locked in a heated gaze as your lips modelled together in a heated, passionate kiss.

His body grinding against yours as his hands moved to cup your breasts.

“your beautiful” he spoke, placing soft kisses on your lips, before moving down your body towards your breasts and placing soft kisses around your nipple, before taking your breast in to his mouth, licking and sucking as he did.

You moaned as he alternated between your breasts, Your gripped his hair, tugging softly at each flick of his tongue.

“your perfect” he spoke once more, letting go of your breast, “I love you” he whispered before moving down your body and licked at your folds, causing you to whimper and moan even more.

Your hands found there way to his hair once more. And they always seemed to, you loved his hair, his curls, even more so now as the peeped out between your thigsh as he lapped at your cunt.

“Jon” you moaned, as you felt a pleasure your own fingers nor Robb had ever given you before, it was overwhelming, the sensation filling your senses as he continued to lick at your clit, and slowly brought his fingers to your entrance.

Groaning as his fingers entered your, he relished in the tightness of your cunt.

He continued to lap at your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you, licking at your heat as if he was a man starved and you were his last meal.

You felt your peak fast approaching, your hands gripping and tugging his hair harder, your legs wrapping around his head in away you were sure would choke him.

“JON!” you screamed as your peak finally hit your cunt clenching tightly around his fingers as you came.

You swallowed roughly as he moved up your body, taking your mouth with his in a possessive kiss, the taste of you evident on your tongue.

His hard cock was positioned between your thighs.

“can i?” he breathed against your lips.

“yes.” You breathed, and he finally entered you.

He slowly rocked his hips into yours, allowing you time to adjust to his cock.

After so long, with only your fingers, the feeling of a cock, of Jon was more than enough to send you over the edge as he became to thrust in and out of you, hi space moving picking up, as your legs wrapped around his waist.

He groaned into your neck, as your cunt tightened around him.

Your peak fast approaching.

“I’m going to cum” he moaned into you, as your cunt fluttered around his cock.

“gods” you moaned, your arms pulling hi closer to you, urging him to finish inside of you.

“where?” he breathed, his pace moving faster and faster as he chased his pleasure, as you came down from your own.

“Inside!” you moaned.

He looked at you unsure, but as your legs pushed in closer to you, your hands arms pulling you in as you urged him to cum, he let go and his seed filled you.

And a part of you hoped it took root.

Days blurred together as your affair blossomed.

You woke up and fell asleep in his arms every night. Every meal was shared. And you treated Jon like a husband, and you were treated as a wife.

Words of love and acts of affection was shared and no ounce of you regretted your actions.

Love.

The word circled his mind when he looked at you and Jon.

 Robb Stark, with all his faults and flaws, would be the first to admit he had ruined all chances of being a good husband the day he feel in love with Talisa, and now, when he had given himself into the desires of wanting you for a wife, of the comforts that came with it, he had gone and ruined it, worse than he ever could of imagined he would.

He was not cruel or cunning and yet too you he was.

To you he was a neglectful man, and absent father and a terrible husband.

He would be the first to admit that part was true.

But he was a good king, that had to account for something?

But now you had found love as he once had, but with his own brother and no part of him wanted to stop it, though he craved the idea of him in Jons place, as he was sure a part of Jon craved his own place.

He watched you both, how your eyes danced with one another in silent conversation only you both understood, how your hand was always touching him or his was always touching you.

That he thought he could live with, he himself a cheating husband. First a mistress now whores in brothels.

A wife having and affair with his brother was fine, as long as they were happy.                                                                      

Even after he had caught them in bed, or as she told him of the babe in her belly.

But then he started to watch you both carefully, how you interacted together in public and in private, of the makeshift marriage you had made, and of how Jon had become what he had failed at.

And he realised just how bad of a father he had become.

“father!” Cregan shouted in greeting, but not at him, at Jon.

He hadn’t even seen him, and had ran straight for Jon, who had swept him up in his arms and placed a kiss to his cheek.

It wasn’t his first time calling Jon father, and Robb was sure it wouldn’t be the last, not as you walked over, Edric in your arms, only for him to say “papa” at the sight of Jon.

He swallowed harshly, storming out of the room before they could see or hear him.

And he suffered the harsh reality that you once had, but this time, it was deserved.

taglist

@now-i-have-a-new-obsession @apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @chimmysoftpaws @arieltwvdtohamflash @moodyblueberrytree @aaliyah @delaynew @12thatsanumber @haydee5010 @valiendokk @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @perla434 @nessjo @helo1281917 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @random-human02 @f1wh0recom @arieltwvdtohamflash @pet1t3

to be added to taglist

[glossgojo]

the starks (cregan, robb, jon) headcanons

cregan who loves to be soft with you, loves to look in your eyes and hold your hand when you’re fucking. he’ll kiss every inch of your body, tell you what he loves about you, praise you to high heavens even when his pace is making your head hit the wall. he worships you night and day.

cregan who can be mean when he needs to be, usually you’re testing him on purpose or plainly asking for him to be rougher, he’ll always prioritize your safety and make sure you know to stop him if he goes too far

cregan who treats you like royalty after, he knows he’s bigger and stronger than most men, in many ways ;) , but he’ll be at your beck and call after leaving bruises on your skin from how hard he clutched your waist to drive you down onto him when you tried running from his girth, or gripped your thighs as he kept them open till your third orgasm was running down his chin

robb who is almost always fast and rough, he rarely has time to spare so when he does get some time with you alone in his tent he’s making it quick and dirty

robb has you coming undone on his fingers first of course, bending you over the planning table and making sure you’re well prepared and dripping before he takes you. he’s rough and passionate, pulling your hair, maneuvering you to his will and of course you love it

robb who always makes sure you come first, unless you’re under the table sucking him off between meetings that is. even then he’ll try and coax you to give him a taste and prop you up on his desk as he makes you gush onto his tongue while he sits like the king he is between your legs

robb who loves you endlessly and will always listen to your desires, even if he wants nothing more than to fuck you both dumb, he’ll treasure the times he can look into your eyes and get lost in the love there

jon who always wants you, it’s his constant state of being, any sign from you that you need him he’ll jump at and give back tenfold. (the biggest service dom in the world fight with the wall). in the beginning of your relationship he would get hard from a look alone and you had to adjust to his insatiable sex drive.

jon who could eat you out for hours and would much rather drink from you than touch a drop of water ever again. who loves when you tug at his hair when he’s down on you, he’s instantly groaned into and getting firm. when you’re in pain, when you’re sad, when you’re angry, when you’re just bored, jon will want to distract you. fucking you deep and slow, fast and rough whatever you need

jon who sometimes can’t control himself, especially when he’s nearly lost his life, and he’s fucking into you and breeding you again, and again, and again until his eyes look more black than anything else and you’re crying from overstimulation. he’s lost count of how many times he’s come nevertheless how many times you have and he can’t scratch the itch that he has to have you forever.

cregan, robb, and jon who live and die by “wear whatever you want i can fight”

cregan, robb, and jon are by nature protective and possessive but they never let bleed into controlling you, they only want you to be safe and no one dares to try anything when they’re over your shoulder, intimidating any and everyone possible

cregan, robb, and jon who can smell other people on you, chalk it up to the wolf ancestry, and immediately get irritated that anyone would dare get close to you, they need you to smell like them or just yourself. it’s something primal they don’t even realize until you’re coming back smelling like rancid fruit, nothing like your usual scent or their own. they’re on you in moments, holding you close and rubbing against you like a feral wolf

oh my god i was possessed by a horny demon writing this in one fell swoop

[lovernanaminn]

they should've been at the club :(

[llonelygoddess]

Yandere House Stark Headcanons

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

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

This is where the yandere tendencies begin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[charliedawn]

"Marry me."

How I think marriage proposals would go for those characters.

Sandor Clegane:

"…Wanna get married ?" You asked as both you and Sandor were sleeping side by side in the forest. Sandor blinked—half asleep. He had back pain and a headache. He had hoped that the wine would help him to fall asleep quicker, as to not have to hear you say any other crazy thing or request for the day. But, of course. He was mistaken.

"Huh ?" When the information seemed to eventually settle in his brain, his whole face seemed a perfect depiction of confusion. He finally turned around and you could see in his eyes that he wasn’t exactly sober either. You decided this was the perfect moment to ask—since he would probably not even remember you asked the next morning. It gave you courage to ask again.

"Wanna get married ?" You repeated with a little more determination and this time, he answered.

"No."

"Ah."

"…"

"…"

"…You. Wanna get married ?" He asked this time—more because he was curious than awaiting an actual answer. But, you took your chance and answered truthfully.

"Sure."

He was momentarily surprised by your confidence before he huffed a laugh and wrapped an arm around you.

"…Fine. We’ll get married in the morning. Now, hush."

There was then a moment of silence before you both bursted out laughing. Just two drunks having the most normal conversation ever. You knew that by tomorrow, he would have surely forgotten all about tonight. But for now, you were satisfied with the knowledge that his subconscience hadn’t said no.

Oberyn Martell:

"Would you like to marry me ?" You asked Oberyn while he wad writing and whose lips curved slightly into a small smirk at the request. He was used to your rather straightforward nature. He liked it even. It made him laugh and enjoy your presence at parties. You were curious and completely unashamed or afraid of any consequences your requests or demands would bring. This is why he always caved. But, he could also be playful and this is why he answered with a small grin:

"No."

He was curious to see your reaction, but his smile slightly faltered when he saw the hurt in your eyes at his rejection. It was the first time he had seen you so upset and he immediately regretted his words.

"Oh. Okay then." You were embarrassed and turned around quickly to get back to your own private quarters. But he was by your side in an instant and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"I was only kidding. I would LOVE to marry you, sweet peach."

He then kissed the back of your neck lovingly. You let out a sigh of relief as you leaned back against him.

"…Really ?"

He chuckled.

"Yes. Really."

He then kissed your temple and you stayed in his arms for a while before he started nuzzling the back of your neck.

"But what brought the subject, sweet peach ?"

You sighed before closing your eyes.

"…You’re the only one who truly enjoys my presence. You laugh and smile at me, even when my words are nonsense. So I thought…why not ask ?"

Oberyn seemed taken aback for a moment before his smile widened and he pressed your back further against him to kiss your shoulder and whisper in your ear.

"Let me tell you a little secret. I would marry you for your nonsense, my dear. Because your nonsense makes more sense to me than this whole world does…"

Tyrion Lannister:

"Do you want to marry me ?" You asked Tyrion one night and the man was so stunned that he spilled his cup of wine.

"What ?"

Tyrion was the most decent between all the Lannisters. He had helped you more than once and there was no doubt in your proposal. You would never find better husband.

"You heard me."

He stayed silent again and made you nervous. Would he refuse ? Would he tell you that he has already found someone ? Would he tell you that he has no interest in you ? But, he didn’t. He simply sighed.

"…Why ?"

Why ? You could tell him a thousand reasons why. Because he was one of the few good men you knew. Because you had no intention of marrying any other. Because you knew he could be gentle. Because he was funny. Because he could be brave. Because he had the heart of a true lion…but no. You wouldn’t tell him like that. Because even if you did, he wouldn’t believe you.

"Because I want to." You settled for instead and his eyes widened slightly in surprise before he smiled a little and shook his head.

"Why would you want to marry an imp ?"

"It is not an imp that I am marrying, but a prince." You retorted. You both stared at each other and his gaze softened as he started actually considering it for a moment.

"You would be miserable." You frowned in incomprehension at his words.

"Why ?" He glanced away for a second.

"Because I am not a good man."

You huffed a bitter laugh at his words.

"Haven’t you heard ? There are no good man left, my prince."

Tyrion seemed taken aback, but he couldn’t deny the truth behind your words and drank a little of his wine.

"Tell me, Tyrion. If I was to become your wife/husband. Would you hit me ? Would you abuse me ? Would you lie to me ?"

He shook his head with a small smile. No. He wouldn’t. You smiled back and Tyrion finally nodded understandingly. It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about finding a good man. It was always about finding the one who wouldn’t hurt you…And hence, he understood and maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a wife/husband ?

Jaime Lannister:

"Jaime…" You sat down next to him at the feast prepared for the Lannisters and even though you could feel Cersei glaring daggers at you—you grabbed his hand. He didn’t react, but you could feel his fingers slightly curving to hold yours.

"Hello, buttercup." He finally greeted you in a whisper and you couldn’t help but smile weakly. You knew of his heart and his loyalty to his sister. It wasn’t really your business to interfere, but you didn’t like how Cersei was treating him. And, you also knew that his heart could maybe be won over.

So, you did the most nonsense ever and challenged him. You stood up and faced him—catching the attention of everyone in the room as you declared loudly.

"Jaime Lannister. I challenge you to an arm wrestling competition !"

That ought to have gained his attention as his eyes finally met yours and what he found in there made his eyes widen in surprise. You were determined and even though he was a knight—you didn’t seem scared of losing. He tried to laugh and wave it off as a mere joke—but you didn’t back down and even provoked him.

"Are you perhaps not a lion ? But a scared chicken ?"

That oughta do it. He was up before you could even pronounce another word and the fury in his eyes made you smile. He had taken the bait.

"If I win, you must agree to one single demand of my choice without knowing what it is !"

"And if I win ?" He quickly shot back and you bit back a laugh.

"Then I will give you whatever you want."

In a matter of minutes, everything was settled and you were both in position. Everyone assumed you were mad or had consumed too much wine to challenge Jaime Lannister—but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You had planned it carefully. You had trained and trained your body and your mind. You had worn big sleeves to hide the muscles hidden underneath. This could be the most important challenge of your life and you wanted to win. More than anything.

The moment Jaime gripped your hand, his eyes stared straight at you as he realised what you had done. This was not the strength of the Y/N he was accustomed to…but it was too late to stop and in a matter of seconds—Jaime Lannister was on the floor.

Everyone was stunned.

But, you only gracefully stood up from your seat and looked down at him before smirking.

"…I will be waiting for that marriage proposal." And with that, you were out of the room—leaving a very confused Jaime and a very angry Cersei behind. But, you knew that a lion never backed down from his word. And Jaime would be yours.

Petyr Baelish (Littlefinger) :

"Marry me." Littlefinger didn’t even seem surprised by you sudden demand. Everyone knew that your father wished to marry you off to Ramsay Bolton. And even though Littlefinger wasn’t sure why you would come to him with such a request, he didn’t show it.

He didn’t even look up as he simply asked.

"Why ?"

You huffed a bitter laugh. The man would sell mother and father for a throne. And he dared to ask why ?

"Does it matter ?"

He licked his thumb to turn the page of the book he was reading nonchalantly, even though you knew that he was secretly weighing the pros and cons of such an alliance.

"Depends. What will it bring me ?"

You looked away.

"Don’t pretend not to realise how advantageous it would be for you to be a part of the Lannister family. You’d have an easy access to the iron throne."

He hummed and pretended to think about it. It was true marrying you would be a fast way to get access to all the nice advantages of being a part of the so-called prestigious Lannister family. But, it had its own set of disadvantages to consider. He would become more than just a little man in the shadows that no one would deem worthy of being a threat, he would become a lion. A black lion.

"…Tell me why you would lower yourself to such an alliance with me. Surely, there would be one handsome young man who would say yes to such a proposal without even blinking. Why go to me, princess/prince ?"

You hesitated before sighing in defeat.

"…Because if I am to marry a snake, better be one I know than one chosen by Tywin Lannister."

At that, Petyr finally dignified you with a glance. You held his gaze and after a few seconds, he smiled.

"Very well, my beauty. Lead the snake to the lion’s den then."

Sansa Stark:

You and Sansa had been longtime allies and friends. You were maybe the only friend she had ever had after the almost complete destruction of House Stark. You had developed feeling for her over time and knew that asking her for her hand wouldn’t be easy—but you were willing to try.

"Please, Sansa of House Stark." You knelt on one knee before her with a rose in your hand and the other hand on your heart. "Would you marry me ?"

Sansa was surprised by the proposal. She had married twice and both marriages weren’t a success. She had lived through nightmares and pain out of such a dream as marriage. She used to want to get married with someone she loved so badly, but not anymore.

"My heart is not so easily won by a rose and pretty words anymore." She replied instead—thinking that she would succeed in breaking your resolve. But, she was mistaken.

"I know. I know that I may never be worthy of even your eyes on me. But…I am a fool, and my heart beats for you. And if you want it ? Then it’s yours. And even if you don’t want it. Let me fight for you. And prove my loyalty to the most beautiful and strong lady the North has ever seen." You pleaded and Sansa was rendered speechless.

She looked into your eyes and saw only love and adoration. She then glanced down at the rose you offered her and after a moment of hesitation, she finally took it.

"…You may try to win my heart, Y/N. But, I cannot promise you success."

You smiled and shook your head.

"Just having you acknowledge my feelings is enough for hope to enter my heart."

Sansa smiled back.

Maybe…romance wasn’t utterly dead.

Jon Snow: (Before the tragedy 😭)

"Marry me." It was said with such confidence that Jon himself was stunned as he looked up at you with widened eyes.

"What ?"

"You heard me."

There was a moment of silence before Jon smiled and he suddenly pulled you into his arms. There was no yes or no. Just a moment of pure euphoria as he couldn’t stop laughing as he buried his face in your chest. He was so happy, he forgot to form words.

When he was finally calm once more, he kissed you passionately.

"Yes. Yes. Yes, I will."

You both started laughing together and Jon even fell back on the snow as you held him tightly.

Daenerys:

"Marry me." You demanded and Daenerys looked back at you. She didn’t seem surprised or even mildly confused by the demand. She knew of your feelings for her—and she was more than happy to reciprocate.

But, marriage ?

Marriage meant boundaries. Marriage meant attachment. Marriage meant she would have to think about you and a possible future where she wasn’t all powerful.

She sighed before stroking your cheek and offering you an apologetic smile.

"My dear Y/N…If only I could, do not believe for a second that I would say no. But, as the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms…I cannot."

You closed your eyes and a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You had expected such an answer of course, but still…your heart ached.

"I…understand." You forced yourself to say and Daenerys nodded. She was a queen. A khaleesi. And you were just…human.

Ser Jorah:

"Please. Marry me." Ser Jorah was stunned at the unexpected request and turned towards you with widened eyes. He was about to answer when you quickly added.

"Love me. Hate me. I want you and you want her. But, I am not asking for your love. But for your protection, kind ser Jorah." He closes his mouth and seemed to think about it for a moment. He knew that you were a young lady/man who had left her/his family to join Daenerys. He had no idea you held such feelings for him…

"You can have my protection, but why go to such lengths to have it ?" He finally asked and you sighed before taking his hand in yours.

"Because it is not only physical protection I seek." You then laid his hand flat upon your heart and Ser Jorah seemed taken aback once more. He looked at you and you didn’t shy away from his gaze.

You knew Ser Jorah was honourable and even if he would never return your feelings, he would make a far greater husband than anyone you ever knew. He would respect you and your heart. And that was more than you could ever wish for…

Ser Jorah accepted.

After all, it was only his name that you were going to bear and his sword that would protect you. You would call him husband, but only in name.

[dipperscavern]

your cregan thoughts changed my life. They are literally canon idgaf…

how do you feel about the stark men and their possessiveness 🫠🫠🫠 Because i knowww they don’t play about their women, especially cregan ohhhhh myyy goddddd. do you think they’re prone to jealousy… Lots to think about. lots to ponder.

POSSESSIVE STARK MEN!! POSSESSIVE STARK MEN I SAID!! i’m very very glad u enjoy my cregan thoughts, thank u sm for this delicious ask <33

as we’ve established, stark men are gentlemen. not just the starks, but northmen themselves don’t play about their women. and there’s also a difference between possessiveness & jealousy… lord so many thoughts. so many things to ponder.

okay, so, as for cregan, he’s very assured. very confident & unwavering in his loyalty to you, and your loyalty to him. cregan can get possessive, but he mainly thinks people ogling over you is funny, because he’s completely confident in your devotion to each other. you usually make your way over to him yourself, and he’ll pull you in by your hips as he teases about the man hitting on you. unless he sees them making you uncomfortable or overstepping — he doesn’t tolerate that. making his way over to pry you away… but honeslty sometimes someone just gets under his skin & he just wants you all to himself. maybe he can get a little jealous…. he does jest in jealousy sometimes though. i could see him wanting your attention. pulling you toward him & away from whatever had your attention if he was feeling particularly needy, jokingly muttering a-

“Come here, you’ve got me jealous.”

robb is so possessive & jealous nobody speak to me. nobody SPEAK to me right now. it’s just so innate/natural for him, you could be talking to anyone and his hands would twitch with the need to pull you away. he really does try and control himself, but he lets it slip sometimes when bedding you.

“You’re mine, yeah? C’mon, wanna hear you say it.”

it’s especially bad during the war, because he’s so frustrated all the time. his emotions are at an all time high, and he can’t find it in himself to try and mask how close he wants you to him & how far away he wants you from other people. “Will you just-“ & he grabs you by your cloak, pulling you to him. “Come here.” he doesn’t have time to hide his emotions when there’s so much on his plate. just let him have what he wants, honestly. 🙄

jon is quietly possessive. he’s never really had anything of his own before, he wants you alllll to himself. i don’t think he’s really jealous, unless you’re pushing his buttons on purpose. the prospect of you being his turns him on sooooo badly, though. you could be talking about how a man of the nights watch hit on you, just murmuring a small-

“Wasn’t interested. ‘M yours, anyway.”

hearing u say that.. and yep! you’re getting it tongiht! his eyes darken and everything before stalking closer to you to press his lips to yours tee hee. wait do y’all think he would… mmm. deep, slow thrusts while telling you-

“Say it again.”

[phantomqa]

I love it when men look sad 😔

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

[axelsagewrites]

Main Masterlist Here

House of the Dragon Masterlist Here

Warnings/Guides

【P】Platonic【P】 🆇Smut 18+🆇

Request Line Up and Request Rules

♡ Jon Snow ♡

🆇What he's like in bed🆇

Blind date

🆇Milady🆇

🆇Home Alone🆇

🆇Price of My Secrecy 🆇

Relationship Moodboard

🆇Couldn't Resist🆇

♡ Robb Stark ♡

Best Friend

Marriage night

🆇Dream🆇 🆇part two🆇

Frey Girl 🆇part two🆇

🆇I miss you🆇

Cloak

Honey Cakes (cloak part two or standalone)

Comfort

Sweet Girl

🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇

🆇Good girl🆇

Yearbook

Don't Die For Me

🆇Little Secret🆇

🆇Can't Catch a Break🆇

Goodnight Dear Husband

♡ Sandor Clegane ♡

Most People Say Goodbye Part One - Part Two

🆇Brat🆇

♡ Beric Dondarrian ♡

Home

♡ Thoros of Myr ♡

Favourite Friend

♡ Brienne of Tarth ♡

【P】Queen in the North and South【P】

♡Ned Stark♡

🆇MiLord🆇

🆇Wife🆇

♡Ramsay Bolton♡

🆇My Father Would Kill Me🆇

🆇Catch You🆇

🆇How Far Would You Go🆇

🆇Appreciate You🆇

🆇Bath🆇

🆇Little Mouse🆇

♡Roose Bolton♡

Perhaps

Not Yet

♡Edmure Tully♡

【P】Who We Call Family【P】

My Queen My Love

♡Theon Greyjoy♡

Dream of Sweet Memories

🆇Give it back🆇

♡Sansa Stark♡

Roommates

🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇

🆇What's This?🆇

Surprise Visit

♡Podrick Payne♡

🆇Praise🆇

♡Daenereys Targaryen♡

🆇My Queen🆇

♡Jamie Lannister♡

🆇Extra Credit🆇

♡Oberyn Martell♡

🆇Duty🆇

♡Margaery Tyrell♡

🆇Ropes🆇

♡Cersei♡

🆇Morning🆇

♡Tormund♡

🆇Real Man🆇

🆇Use your words🆇

♡ Yara Greyjoy ♡

Flirting

Preferences/Multicharacter

🆇Company🆇 - Yara and Ellaria threesome

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

How they react to teasing – all

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

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

🆇Hook ups🆇 - Theon and Jon

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

Thanks for any support I appreciate it all xoxo Sage

Dividers from here and here from @saradika

Post topper made on Canva

[bumblesimagines]

The Wolf's Guard

Request: Yes or No

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

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How much?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, My King."

"Gods, you're the worst."

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

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

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

[randommultifandomrants]

Being a girl is pt.2: deciding you’ve read enough fics for the moment and swiping out of the app just to re-open tumblr or open wattpad/ao3

[rise-my-angel]

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

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

Brandon Stark:

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

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

That is some hard dom behavior right there.

Eddard Stark:

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

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

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

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

Benjen Stark:

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

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

Robb Stark:

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

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

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

Jon Snow:

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

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

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

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

[daniellewritesfr]

𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲

Paring: Jon Snow x f!Reader

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

Warnings: mentions of drinking, kissing, fluff.

Word count: 1.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jon” you said surprised “it’s late” 

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

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

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

“No, no, may I come in?” 

“Yes of course. Please come in.” 

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

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

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

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

 Long forgotten feelings wash over you.   

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

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

Pulling away, his gaze meeting your own.  

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

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

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

Tears begin to swell in your eyes threatening to fall. 

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

You smile at him, leaning into his touch. 

“I love you.” 

The words feel heavy. 

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

“And I you.” 

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

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