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cdragons · 6 months

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I'm Yours, But You Can't Be Mine | Dark!Robb Stark x fem Knight!Reader

Summary: The Freys and the Boltons were so close in their attempt to assassinate Robb Stark and switch the tides in favor of the Lannisters. But a knight's devotion to her king should never be tested. Her loyalty always remains true, even if she breaks the heart of the man she loves in order to protect him.

Trigger Warning(s): MDNI 18+, blood, gore, graphic violence, forced abortion, violence against women, canon character deaths (not Robb or Starks), graphic smut, more hurt than comfort, Talisa is a spy (and a ho), Reader has post-murder clarity and guilt

A/N: A couple of days ago, I woke up and chose violence (emotionally and "literature"-ally) ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ. Also, Theon Greyjoy never betrayed Robb in this fic bc I said so - HOORAY! Also, if anyone can tell me how I can use different fonts in my posts, that would be great.

Walking out from the tent where the emergency council meeting was held, you steeled yourself for the information you would have to discuss with your king. With each step falling to the ground, bringing you closer to his tent, the boulder in your stomach grew more and more heavy.

“This is a bad idea,” you thought to yourself. “This is a bad idea and a mistake; he will never forgive you if you go through this.”

But you made a promise – and as Ned Stark taught you, you would keep it because it was right and honorable. Because when choosing between what is right and what is easy…you must always choose what is right.

You stopped before the two Northmen who stood outside your king’s tent as guardsmen. Their postures straightened and appeared as imposing as possible when facing you.

“Turn back, Ser (Y/N),” one guard said. “No matter how familiar with King Robb, we are on strict orders from Lady Catelyn that no one but her and Princess Arya are permitted to enter His Grace’s tent.”

“I need to speak with the King,” you spoke in your best militant and authoritative tone. “His lords and I just held an emergency council meeting to discuss House Frey’s betrayal. I need to ensure that no information is held from him.”

“Perhaps it be best you let His Grace rest,” the other guard spat out. “He had just lost his queen and future heir at the hands of Walder Frey – even if his wife was a spying, traitorous cunt sent by Tywin Lannister. We could all use some time to mourn.”

You snarled and grabbed your dagger when you saw the sigil sewn on her sheath. He belonged to House Blackwood. Your eyes softened as you recognized him as Bywin Blackwood, cousin to Lucas Blackwood, one of the four hundred casualties slain by Hosteen Frey. Taking a deep breath, you tried to appeal to their sympathetic natures.

“I concur, Ser Bywin,” you said. “But you cannot deny that time is of the essence. Three days have passed since the failed Red Wedding, and word has surely reached Tywin Lannister and the rest of the Red Keep of their failure. I fear for Princess Sansa’s life if we do not take action soon. Her well-being is entirely dependent on King Joffery and his bitch mother’s whims and wishes. The faster I can bring our king up to speed, the faster we can retaliate and bring our former liege lord’s daughter back.”

You watched them glance at one another before delivering the final blow. “And then we can all go home so that we may finally properly mourn and honor the lives lost in this war.”

They let you through, and you entered your king’s tent. Seeing your friend lying so still on his cot broke your heart. His chest was wrapped entirely in gauze and bandages, and the memory of seeing the arrows puncture his body swept chills down your back. Grey Wind sat beside him as dutifully as ever and did not even turn his head to look at you when you entered. Like his master, Grey Wind was a beast of discipline and strength. He and Robb shared the same qualities of holding the stoic appearance of a leader – even when the world around them came crumbling down. But here, at this moment, Grey Wind was neither a beast nor a leader. At this moment, he was simply the pet whose mind was running rampant with worry from fear of his dearest friend never waking up.

You held out your hand and called out his name. “Grey Wind.”

His head finally turned to face you. You often wondered if he was more man than beast, sometimes based on how soulful his eyes looked alone. You crouched on the ground and beckoned him to you.

“Come here, boy. Are you thirsty? I brought you water.”

He immediately trotted to you and showed his joy in seeing you were alive by licking your face and nudging you with his wet nose. You softly laughed at his eagerness to shower you in love while also inspecting your body to see if you were injured or carrying weapons. His body stilled, and his fur stood as he stopped to sniff the sword resting on your hip. He took a sniff and bared his teeth to let out a low growl when he recognized the scent of Talisa’s blood soaking the metal of your blade underneath the leather sheath.

You petted him and spoke in low whispers to calm him down. “It’s alright, boy. She met her end – you and I both ensured that.”

A pained voice rasped out. “I don’t suppose you got any information out of it?”

Your eyes widened at the only other voice in the room, and Grey Wind immediately returned to Robb’s side.

Tears filled your eyes as relief flooded your body. “Robb,” you sobbed out.

Before you could stop yourself, you flung yourself to hug him. “You’re alive! Oh gods – you’re alive!”

Returning your embrace, Robb held you close. “I am, and so are my mother and most of our men—all thanks to you.”

But the happy atmosphere became sour and somber when he looked down at your sword. The memory of your hands covered in his wife’s blood as you stormed into Frey’s Great Hall with the rest of his men was fresh in his mind. Fury swirled and thundered inside him as he learned he had been played as a fool by Tywin Lannister. Using one of his vassal house’s daughters as a spy while disguised as a healer so that she could seduce him was a low he never thought those fucking lions would stoop down to, but they had, and he will have their heads on spikes.

His grip on your arms grew harder. “Did she suffer?” he asked.

You looked him straight in the eyes. “Every second until she had her last breath.”

“Good,” was his only response.

“Robb,” you started. What you were about to tell him was cruel, but he needed to know. “I tore her child out from her womb…it had blonde hair.”

Robb let out a bitter laugh and clenched his fists. “So not only was she a spy, but she was also a whore.” He shook his head. “I was a fool.”

You took his hand in yours. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. She had us all fooled.”

Robb shook his head. “Not you. She never fooled you. You hated her the minute you saw her, and you were right, too.”

You never once hid your distrust and dislike for her from the moment she and Robb locked eyes, a distrust that only grew more intense when Robb decided to marry her, thus breaking the vow he made with Walder Frey. But despite your skepticism of Talisa Maegyr, you never suspected she was a spy under Tywin Lannister. Eventually, though, you began to trust her after observing her for countless hours.

She wasn’t a Frey girl, but she might be good to Robb. Maybe she would make him happy.

Robb tucked in a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Who would’ve thought that your natural hatred and distrust for anything pretty would come in so handy?”

“I do not hate all things ‘pretty,’” you scoffed. “I just have a natural distrust for things that seem too good to be true that happen to be pretty. Why do you think I ran away from you for so long?”

Robb smirked. “But you always trusted my father?” he chuckled.

"Ned Stark was someone who was born into privilege and knew it," you shrugged. “Besides, he was old and fat when he found me. And I didn’t think it would be useful until now.”

You thought it strange to see her leave the feast so early, claiming that she felt ill, and one of Bolton’s soldiers escorted her to her chambers. You whispered to Theon that you needed some air before quietly following them. You found them discussing how everything was set and how House Stark would fall that night. Talisa’s true name was Joy Marband, one of House Lannister’s vassal houses in the Westerlands. Tal- Joy ensured Lord Bolton that House Lannister would reward him for his loyalty to the crown. Horrified by this revelation, you rushed to where Grey Wind was locked up and freed him after slaying the guards that stood in front of his kennel.

“Grey Wind, gather the men,” you ordered. “Gather as many as possible and lead them to the Great Hall! We don’t have much time!” Grey Wind howled before doing exactly as you ordered. When he parted, you set off to find the spying whore. On your way to find her, you slew every son, guard, knight, squire, and steward that came across you.

You found her all right – found her in her chambers getting fucked from behind by one of Lord Frey’s many bastard sons. You took out your dagger and gutted him from balls to the chest before cutting off his pathetic cock. It gave you a sick amount of pleasure to see how his blood sprayed across the room – from the walls to the bed, on the traitorous cunt’s back he was fucking to on your clothes. His body went limp as a massive puddle of blood surrounded him. After watching him die, you turned your attention to her.

“Please,” she cried while clutching a blood-splattered sheet close to her chest. “Please, I am with child – Robb’s child!”

You reached out, and your hand squeezed around her throat as she tried to claw her way out of your grasp. Anger being your drive, you slammed her head against the headboard of the bed and watched as her lips turned blue from lack of air.

“Don’t you say his name,” you growled. “Don’t you EVER say his name!”

You flung her like she was a simple ragdoll as her body slammed against the stone wall adjacent to the bed. She coughed and gasped for air while rubbing her throat – the bruises were already forming. You stalked towards her before she could crawl away.

“Robb trusted you!” you thundered. “Lady Stark trusted you! The North trusted you – I TRUSTED YOU!”

You towered over her, grabbed a fistful of her umber-shaded locks, and forcefully yanked it until her face was only inches from yours. “AND WHAT DID YOU DO? YOU TOOK THAT TRUST AND REPAID IT WITH BETRAYAL!”

She tried to crawl away before you stomped on her hand and felt it being crushed underneath the sole of your boot. Your former queen wailed in agony from the pain that almost hid the sound of her bones cracking. The dagger you used to fill the bleeding corpse was still in your other hand, and you knelt to trace Lady Marband’s pretty face with its tip.

“W-w-what are you going to do to me?” she pathetically sniffled.

“I have – STOP CRYING! I have only one question for you,” you harshly whispered. “Did my king truly sire the child in your womb?”

“YES!” she cried out quickly…too quickly. Your jaw clenched so hard you thought your teeth would break from all the pressure.

“…Liar,” you hissed.

With nothing left to stop you, you took your dagger and stabbed it into her body. Dragging the blade until her insides were spilling out into your hands, you dug your find to find the child. Her screams howled louder than any beast at night, and you were almost worried that her wails would give away your position. But all those worries went away when you tore the fetus from her womb. Pouring water on it, you found tiny wisps of hair…straight, blond wisps of hair that more resembled the color of golden wheat than Robb’s dark, russet curls.

Hearing Grey Wind’s howl outside the window, you knew it was time. Still holding the whore’s limb and bloodied bastard in your hand, you raced to find Grey Wind. If your suspicions were true, most of the archers for House Frey were already inside the Great Hall while the feast was happening. If you didn’t hurry, you and the men Grey Wind gathered would be too late. You managed to locate him quickly and were relieved to find thousands of men behind him as he immediately trotted to your side.

“Queen Talisa Maegyr is a traitor working for the Lannisters!” you loudly roared. “She belongs to House Marband—one of their vassal houses! Tywin Lannister had sent her to spy on and seduce your king!”

You raised the dead babe high above your head for all the men to see. “The babe in her stomach is not even Robb’s! If you wish for proof, see for yourself!”

You flung its body to the nearest man. He picked it up, and you can see his eyes widen and fill with rage before confirming your words as truth.

“BLONDE!” he bellowed for all his comrades to hear. “BLONDE LIKE JOFFERY AND HIS WHORE MOTHER, HIDING IN THEIR RED SHIT-STAINED CASTLE!”

Cries and shouts of outrage and anger amongst the men. You watched with bated breath as the surge of revenge and the need for bloodshed filled their hearts. You then revealed that Walder Frey and Roose Bolton were also in a secret allegiance with House Lannister and watched as enraged spirits filled the men with enough fury to take down an army of ten thousand. The North needed something to boost morale, and here it was. You looked down at Grey Wind. He stared back into your eyes with the same loyalty he gives Robb, and you know what you must do.

With one swipe, you unsheathe your blade, ‘Purge,’ and raise it above your head as the men go silent.

You shouted before leading the charge into the keep. “COME WITH ME AND LET’S TAKE THESE FUCKING FREYS TO THEIR GRAVES!”

Grey Wind howled to the sky, and the men raised their weapons to let out their battle cries as they followed you, storming into the keep. You shouted orders for the Riverland archers to run to the upper levels to take down the Freys perched there. Your king’s direwolf raced ahead and took down any soldier that tried to cross him. By the time you and the men reached the doors leading to the Great Hall, all of Grey Wind’s face was soaked with spilled red liquid life save for his golden eyes.

You pushed the door open just in time to see Robb stagger back from the arrows piercing his chest. Just when Roose Bolton tried to deliver the final blow, Grey Wind let out a booming bark before dashing to Lord Bolton and clamping his teeth into his neck. Meanwhile, you went to where Theon was held and removed the heads of the men who were pinning him down with a single swing. You grabbed him by his doublet’s collar, yanked him to his feet, and shoved a spare sword in his hand.

“Grab Robb and his mother, and get out of here!” you ordered.

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you–”

“Dammit Theon! Don’t argue with me!” you shouted. “Just get Robb and Lady Catelyn somewhere safe!”

Theon looked at the chaos unfolding around him. “What about Queen Talisa?”

“She’s dead! I killed her!” you answered.

“WHAT?!” Theon’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

You rolled your eyes. “Tywin Lannister sent her to spy and fuck Robb – NOW, GO!”

Once you saw Theon take Lady Stark and they dragged Robb’s bleeding body to safety, you could finally focus on the fight. You focused your sights on every man who wore a Frey or Bolton sigil and didn’t stop until each one was lying at your feet. The blood spilled from each slash, stab, and chop from Purge soaked your clothes and caked your face. But it was as if a dark ritual had taken place, as their blood only seemed to empower each and every one of your attacks. Before long, it was too late for House Frey and House Bolton. Walder Frey and Roose Bolton were bleeding at the Northmen’s feet, and any reinforcements called were immediately subdued and taken into custody.

As far as you were concerned, the only Frey left in the hall was Roslin—but whether she and the rest of her sisters would keep their heads after their surviving brothers would soon lose theirs didn’t really matter to you.

“I’m alive,” Robb began while cupping your cheek, “because of you. The North survived because of you. How can I ever repay you?”

You held his hand. “I didn’t save you for your gratitude, Robb. I didn’t save you so that you could repay me with titles, money, or lands. I saved you because it was my duty. I saved you because I swore to that night Joffery called for your father’s head, and we named you ‘King of the North.’ I saved you because I…”

Robb titled his head. “Because you what?”

“Don’t make me say it,” you whispered.

“Because you love me?” he softly asked. Pressing his forehead to yours, he continued. “Because I do…you know I do.”

You shook your head. “No, Robb – please. Please don’t do this to me. Don’t say things you don’t mean to make me look less foolish.”

You tried to move back and away from the man you’ve longed after for as long as you could remember. But Robb took your hands and pressed them close to his chest as he implored you to remain by his side.

“That night, after they named me ‘King of the North.’ Do you remember? We were in my tent. I told you I wanted to be alone, but you refused to leave me. I cried and lashed like a screaming child, but you never left.”

This was getting too far. This wasn’t why you came here. “Robb, you need to listen to me–”

But Robb didn’t stop talking. “You just stood there – taking it until you finally took me in your arms and held me. You didn’t say a word; you just let me cry out my pain. Like that time when we captured the Kingslayer, you held my hand when I kneeled in front of the Whispering Wood to mourn the men I lost. You didn’t speak of how brilliant I was or how the lives lost were for a good cause; you let me be me and mourn.”

“Robb–”

“That’s when I knew I loved you – that I’ve always loved you. And then, when we kissed–”

“I’m leaving,” you blurted out, “to Maidenpool tomorrow morning.”

The silence between you two seemed to echo louder than any wind that howled during the fiercest storms. Shock was the first thing on Robb’s face before complete and utter horror took over.

You may have spoken too quickly. “Well, no…technically, I and…a few other riders will be headed to Maidenpool tomorrow morning. We need to prepare a ship for your voyage to Dragonstone.”

“…What?” His voice sounded so broken that you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

You combed your fingers through the stray hairs in front of your face. Then, you took a deep breath to prepare for the little speech you had prepared for this moment. This was the plan you and all lords agreed on. It was a good plan, and it was going to work. That’s all you needed to believe to convince Robb.

“Stannis is the realm’s best chance for peace. Perhaps he’s too stubborn but needs more people on his council. Your lords and I decided it was best if you traveled to Dragonstone to try and convince him to become allies with us. But you still need a few more days to recover. So, by the time you arrive at the docks, the ship will be ready. That’s why I – we’re traveling to Maidenpool… to travel to Dragonstone.”

“And after?” Robb breathily asked. His grip on you tightened in desperate hopes of keeping you close. “After we speak with Stannis, we’ll come back? You and me—we’re coming back together?”

You looked away. “You’ll be coming back…along with everyone else. But I…I won’t be coming with you.”

“But I…I won’t be coming with you.”

Robb dropped his hands as if you burned him. You were lying. You had to be – you weren’t genuinely thinking about…about leaving him.

“No,” he panted with terrified eyes. “No, no, no, please.”

You cupped his face. “Robb, please understand–”

“What’s there to understand?!” he cried out. “I love you! And you love me – and yet you’re leaving me! Why?”

“You don’t love me,” you countered. “You’re only saying you love me because you’re angry and hurt by Talisa–”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about that whore,” he spat out.

You rolled your eyes. “Robb, please. You married her. You took her as your wife and nearly ruined the North because of that choice. Of course, you loved her. And, understandably, you’re lashing out because she betrayed you. But don’t lie to me and say you didn’t love her.”

“(Y/N), love,” he beseechingly thought, “you have no idea how wrong you are.”

Robb snarled like the wolf he was at your words. “I married her because I thought she was carrying my child, and I didn’t want my future heir to be a bastard.”

“Even so, that doesn’t explain why–”

You were going to hate him for what he was about to say. “Because you refused me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his shameful reveal. Robb never felt more rueful and penitent of his naivety than now. The last thing he wanted was your disgust and hatred, but he needed you to understand how long he’s loved you. He needed you to realize that you were always the one who held his heart and sanity – without you, he was nothing, as was proven by the Freys and Boltons’ betrayal.

“Robb, I…I don’t – I don’t understand,” you stammered. Your eyes showed that your mind was running amok with questions and a desperate need for clarification. “Wha-…what are you talking about?”

Robb took a deep breath and tried to swallow the lump lodged in his throat.

“That night when my bannermen named me ‘King,’ you followed me to my tent. I kept lashing at you like an angry child, but you never left my side. And then…we kissed, and it led to more. The following day, I wanted to find you – to declare my love for you fully. But every time I got near you…you turned away like I was poison. That’s why I turned to Talisa…to try to forget about you.”

Your eyes widened in horror as your chest moved up and down with shaky breaths. “You broke your vows with Walder Frey…was because of me? You bedded and married Talisa because of me? …I hurt you… a-a-and–” You let out a trembling sob. “–Oh gods, this is all my fault! I-i-if I hadn’t confused you that night–”

Robb could feel you slipping away and continued to try to tether you to him.

“No, my love,” he cooed. “You never confused me. You’re not listening to me. I’ve always loved you, even before that night.”

Robb tried to hold you close, but you harshly shoved him back and stood. He watched as tears continued to fill your eyes, and your face carried an expression that could only be described as overwhelming guilt. Robb flung the covers off him and tried to walk towards you, but each step he took closer to you made you step further back.

You stared at him with a shameful expression. “Robb, I…I was wrong to let things escalate between us. You had just been declared king and were grieving for your father, and I took advantage of your grief and vulnerability–”

Robb tenderly held your face. “No, no, no—you didn’t, though. (Y/N) That night…you gave me your love. You didn’t say it, but you gave me your love, and I gave you mine. I never regretted that night or laying with you. How you spurned my attempts to connect with you afterward—that was what hurt me the most.”

“Robb…” you sobbed his name as tears strolled down your cheeks. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted…I thought if I weren’t beside you…I’d also be protecting you from distractions from the war and your duty to the Freys – oh gods, I’m so sorry.”

You put your hand over your face. “Robb, if that night never happened…if I never followed you to your tent then…then, we wouldn’t be in this mess! All of this is my fault! Talisa, the Lannisters, the broken vow with Walder Frey – the North is more vulnerable than ever, and it’s because of me! …I mutilated a pregnant woman and murdered her unborn child.”

Robb helplessly watched as you continued to blame yourself for his foolishness. Knowing you would want your privacy, he sent Grey Wind away to guard his tent. Gods, his father would be so ashamed of him if he saw him now. He watched as you fell to the ground and began to weep out apologies to every soldier who was murdered by the Boltons and Freys at the Red Wedding.

…Lucas Blackwood…Dacey Mormont…Patrek Mallister…Robin Flint…Ser Wendel Manderly…Owen Norrey…And over three hundred other men and soldiers whose blood were spilled that night.

You even begged for forgiveness from the old gods and new ones, for the blood that belonged to Joy Marband that will forever remain on your hands, along with the stolen breaths of her unborn son.

But then the tears stopped…and an eerie calm cloaked the tent. Your eyes were red and swollen, but a spark of mad clarity was dancing in them. Very slowly, you stood with your head still bowed.

“I have to leave,” you whispered. “I have to leave and never come back. If I stay, I’ll only continue to ruin you and our cause more than I already have.”

You turned away to leave, but Robb reached out to stop you before you could take another step. He begged you to look at him, pleading for you to listen to reason before making any rash decisions. When you stubbornly refused, he grabbed your jaw and forcefully turned your head to face him. His crystal-blue eyes were wide with fear and misty from anguish. He had to make you understand that your leaving was not an option.

“(Y/N), look at me—please, love,” Robb implored. " If you leave me, I will never recover. If you dare leave my side, I will tear all of Westeros apart—leaving no stone unturned, no cave unsearched, no village left unplundered. We belong together. You and me – ruling the North, side-by-side in Winterfell. Us, together, spending every night in each other’s arms, with each morning beginning by being greeted by our children.”

He pulled your face closer until your lips were only a few inches away, and your individual breaths intermingled to become one. You want that life with him—just as he wants that life with you. So why can’t you embrace it and share it with him?

You shut your gaze from him and tried to choke down the pain. “It doesn’t matter what either of us wants. All that matters right now is what we need. What matters is how we can gather ourselves from these losses and try to form allies. And if me being here distracts you from that, then…then I need to leave.”

Robb determinedly shakes his head. “No, no – I don’t accept that.”

“Robb–” you tried to reason, but all of your pleas were cut off when he pressed his lips against yours.

And just like that – all words floated away like debris falling into a steady river.

A warm and tingling sensation ran down (Y/N)’s body as their lips met, and she closed her eyes to fully succumb to the sensation. She knew that she should have pushed him away immediately. But as Robb continued to hold her face gently to deepen the kiss, all sense of reason fled from (Y/N)’s mind when his lips moved against hers with gentle and firm urgency. In that moment, nothing mattered – not the messy past, the unstable present, or the uncertain future. At that moment, (Y/N) felt completely free of all worries and fears as Robb’s hands began to trail down to wrap his arms around her waist to hold her closer while (Y/N) wrapped her arms over his neck.

Despite the constriction of their lungs, neither wanted to part. If they could die in this embrace, then so be it. (Y/N) felt every hard, warm muscle of Robb’s body pressed against hers as they began to walk back until the back of his knees hit his cot’s edge. They tumbled onto the cot, and the fall caused Robb to fall on his back with (Y/N)’s soft and supple frame to press further against him. He slightly winced in pain, which caused the two lovers to finally part. As (Y/N) stared down at her king with a concerned expression, Robb thought an angel was with him.

He stared at her flushed cheeks and lust-glazed eyes with naked longing. Her (h/c) strands tumbled to form a curtain hiding their faces. Staring at the mythic beauty over him, Robb knew he wanted this with (Y/N) forever. Meanwhile, (Y/N) gently swept his curls from his face before trailing her hands down his bandaged chest to search if any wounds had been opened.

“Do you need me to stop?” she asked, her heart beating a hundred miles a minute. “You’re still healing, it might be best if we–”

“If you even think of finishing that sentence with ‘stop,’” Robb interjected. “I’ll bind your hands and take you from behind over and over until the only word you can say is my name – just to show you and everyone else that I could be dying from a cut-off leg if it means I can have you.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and giggled. “You’re so dramatic sometimes. I just don’t want you bleeding out and dying before I finish.”

Robb sat up, wrapped his arms around her, and forced her to straddle him. The sudden realization that Robb had been naked this entire time had somehow escaped (Y/N)’s attention as she felt the evidence of his heavily growing arousal against her body. His lips hovered as his warm breath hit her skin, and his low-timber voice whispered into her ear.

“At least you know where this night will take us,” he huskily growled. “Because I don’t plan on stopping until your womb is so full of my seed – it leaks from your cunt.”

He lowered his hands to grasp her hips before trailing them down to sink his hands over her ass. Showing his canines with a lecherous grin, Robb teasingly ground his hips against hers. He rubbed his hardening manhood against her warm core and reveled in the gasps and whimpers escaping her plumped lips. (Y/N) threw her head back as she could no longer hold back her cries of ecstasy. Taking full advantage of her exposed neck, Robb latched his lips just under her and traced the column of her neck with his soft, hot lips. The feeling of his lips combined with the scruff of his beard against her skin was nothing less than euphoric.

“Oh, Robb,” she breathily panted as their bodies rocked together in sync. “Gods, don’t stop!”

Her hands roamed until her fingers fisted around his dark copper curls. (Y/N) felt her lower body clench when he bit on a pulse point before giving languid strokes of his tongue on it. The contrast between his hot, wet tongue and the chill of his breath when he blew on it gave her goosebumps. (Y/N) softly pushed him back as she longingly gazed into his sapphire-ice pools with her (e/c) eyes and twirled one of his russet curls with her finger. Robb leaned forward and pressed a small peck on her lips as an overwhelming feeling of love encompassed him at her smile.

“I love you,” he sighed out, “do you know that? I love you, (Y/N). I love you so much.”

(Y/N) wanted so desperately to say it back, but the words failed. Seeing how much his love struggled, Robb cupped her cheek and reveled in her warmth as she nuzzled into his palm.

“You don’t have to say now,” he reassured her. “I just—I just want you to know that. Promise me no matter what, you know that.”

(Y/N) nodded. “I promise,” she said with a trembling voice. “I…I want it to say back. But I just…with everything that’s happened—I can’t help but feel like…if Red Wedding wasn’t going to be the thing that causes us to lose this war, I’m so scared of what will.”

Robb pressed a soft kiss to (Y/N)’s temple. “Don’t be scared. I know we’ll make it. We will win this war and take King’s Landing from the Lannisters. And when we do, Sansa will finally be free, and we can all return home.”

“To where you’ll rule the North as King in Winterfell,” (Y/N) mused in a wistful tone. “It feels like a sin to even dream of it now.”

Robb stroked his thumb over her cheek. “It’ll be your home, too.”

(Y/N) gave her beautiful king a genuine but sad smile. “I don’t want to talk about the future right now.”

Robb’s brow furrowed at her foreboding words. “What do you want to talk about?”

When (Y/N) pulled away and stepped off his lap, Robb was prepared to chase her through the camp naked if she dared run away while he was in this state. But she just stepped to the center of the space before removing her boots, followed by her stripping the dark leather breeches slowly down until the bare skin of her legs was revealed. She then lifted her tunic over her head along with her chest binder.

Robb was so painfully hard just from looking at her. He cursed himself for thinking he could ever be happy with Talisa, knowing that perfection was standing before him in his tent. His eyes drank in the sight of (Y/N)’s naked body as if looking away would kill him. He took it all in, from every scar that faded to a pale sliver to every beauty mark unique to her. He wondered if she truly knew how beautiful she was…if she understood how much she had completely and utterly bewitched his soul just with her presence. He wondered if she knew how much he wanted to kneel at her feet so that he could beg for her permission to let him worship her for the rest of his life.

(Y/N) began to walk toward him, and it felt as if the world around them was fading into incoherence, and only the two of them were left. When she finally reached him, she took his hand and placed it over her heart. She wanted him to feel it racing from his touch, from his gaze. Then, she lowered herself until her eyes leveled with his as she sat on the cot’s blankets. With her hands, she cupped his face and poured all her love for her king from her eyes.

“I’m tired,” she sighed. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this…of pretending I don’t want you. But most of all…I’m so tired of pretending that I…that I don’t love you.”

It felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off her shoulders as (Y/N) finally confessed her love for her king, Robb Stark. The man she marched with from Winterfell when Joffery first imprisoned his father. The man whom she fought beside and watched mourn for every good man who fell fighting for him. The man she’s loved since before she knew what love meant.

(Y/N) let out a heavy sob. “Because I do, Robb. I do love you. Gods, I love you so much – not just as a soldier loves their king, but as a woman who loves a man.”

Robb hadn’t realized he was crying until (Y/N) wiped a tear with her thumb. He took his hand from her chest and pulled her face towards him until their lips met again. Wet laughter mixed with tears and kisses made for a strange sight for an outsider, but it was a moment filled with more love and happiness than these two dared to hope. The way their bodies moved and swayed before (Y/N) fell on her back underneath Robb Stark as he hovered above her looked more akin to an awkward entanglement of limbs than an impassioned embrace. But for the two lovers, kissing each other seemed as easy as breathing and soothing like a gently falling summer snow. (Y/N) marveled at how easy it was to kiss Robb. It almost felt organic, with how naturally drunk they became by the taste of the other.

Soon, the kiss became more heated as (Y/N) and Robb grew more hungry to explore more of each other’s bodies. The more heated Robb kissed her, the more eager (Y/N)’s hands grew to explore his strong, muscular body. Her hands caressed his warm skin, and her fingers softly traced the scars that made him all the more desirable. His lips trailed to her chin and traveled down her neck until he had just reached the tops of her breasts. Grinning at how hard she was breathing, he took one breast in his hand and twisted her nipple. A needy cry left her lips at his harsh tugging before turning into a high-pitched whine when he bit the other.

Pleasure coursed through (Y/N)’s body like blue-hot lightning as her back arched into his body, and her entire frame felt paralyzed from it. She felt her core leaking from arousal as Robb’s hard, throbbing member was pressed against her stomach. Deciding that if he waited any longer, then he would likely burst, Robb used one hand to roam down (Y/N)’s body until he settled in the special place between her legs. He then took the other breast and tugged its nipple between his teeth before using his other hand to tug and twist the one previously in his mouth. Meanwhile, (Y/N)’s mind was so clouded in lust that she could not feel Robb stroking her clit with one finger before sinking two fingers inside her walls.

“Fuck…your walls are so tight on my fingers,” he huskily groaned as (Y/N) wept in ecstasy. “Such a wicked girl…avoiding your king and keeping this sweet cunt away from me. Every time I laid with that whore, I had to fight the urge to call out your name when I spilled into her. But you won’t do that anymore, will you? You know better to run now, right?”

“I-I-I won’t run! I’m yours, Robb! I only belong to you!” She stammered as Robb began to rub tight circles with his now-soaked fingers on her clit. She thrashed against the covers, fisting the furs on his bed to somehow anchor her. Her core tightened, and no matter how much she wanted to close her legs, his hips prevented her from doing so. As a result, (Y/N) had to take it and continue drowning in the pleasure that was Robb Stark’s love.

“Good girl,” Robb darkly chuckled as he straightened his back and placed his hands on the back of her thighs to spread them wide. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed its leaking tip against her folds. “Are you ready for me to take you? Are you ready to know how a wolf breeds his mate?”

(Y/N) quickly nodded. She couldn’t take the waiting any longer. “Please, Robb,” she begged. “Please take me—make me yours!”

With a single thrust, Robb plunged his entire length inside until he bottomed out, and the tip of his manhood kissed the entrance of her womb. The stretch of his thick, hard member against her walls gave the most delicious burn that made (Y/N) peak from the feeling of how deep he was inside her. Meanwhile, Robb’s face snarled at how warm and tight (Y/N)’s cunt felt around him. As her walls tightly clamped down on his length, he bit inside his cheek so hard that the coppery taste of blood coated his tongue to prevent him from erupting right then and there. His hand traveled to her hair and sharply tugged it back so that he could roughly kiss her. His blood only further aroused (Y/N)’s lust for the man inside her as she considered it another sign that she had tasted more of her king and another piece was inside her. Emboldened by this action, she wrapped her tights around his hips to further mold their bodies as one.

The way (Y/N)’s body was pressed against his inflamed Robb’s ardor as he pulled out until only the tip was still inside before roughly thrusting himself in fully. Each time he pulled out and pushed back in, she gave him a symphony of cries and begging that could be heard throughout the camp. The slapping of their skin from each thrust inside of (Y/N) made him grip her hips so tightly that she could already feel the bruises forming on her skin as a steady pace had been reached.

Sweat built on both the lovers’ bodies as (Y/N) began to dig her nails into Robb’s skin and claw long scratches down his back. The twinge of pain only made the young king want to sink deeper and deeper into her until they became one inseparable being. Robb tried to remind himself to go slower to avoid harm (Y/N), but one look in her eyes told him there was no need to hold back.

“Take me,” her eyes begged. “Make me completely yours from this day until my last days.”

Upon her request, it felt as if a dormant beast had taken over Robb, as all he could think about was how much he wanted to take her faster, harder, and rougher – until the only word she could say was his name. As he set off at a new pace, (Y/N)’s eyes rolled back as she began to babble out incoherent cries and moans. It felt like there was no part of her mind, body, and soul that wasn’t wholly drowning from waves of pleasure crashing into her.

She was sure the following day, she would do everything in her power to avoid everyone’s eyes, as they all likely heard her moaning for their king like a common whore. But for now, at this moment, she wanted to only exist for Robb and continue drowning in his love.

Soon, it wasn’t long before the familiar feeling of a knot tightening inside her began to coil more tautly as Robb continued to lavish her in his adoration. (Y/N) could feel her pleasure climbing higher and higher until the knot grew so tight that it snapped. It felt as if a dam had burst, and a heavy flood of pleasure crashed into every muscle of her body. The release had made her feel as if her body had reached new heights of pleasure so immense that it became almost painful as tears started to roll down her cheeks. (Y/N)’s eyes shot wide, and she opened her mouth as her back arched into him, but no sound was made. There was nothing that could adequately convey the

Feeling (Y/N) release on his cock, Robb growled as he felt the last vestiges of his sanity snap and lost all composure. He began to increase his pace until his thrusts became rough and frantic to chase his end. He pushed her thighs until they were pressed against her chest before wildly thrusting deeper inside her walls to feel more of her heat. He was able to fuck into her once, thrice, ten more times before his body went taut, and he spilled his seed into (Y/N)’s womb. Her soaked, vice walls gripped around him and tried to milk all of him in desperate want to carry his child.

As Robb felt the last of his cum leave him, a wave of exhaustion crashed into him, and his arms were no longer able to prevent his body from falling atop (Y/N). Panting for air and resting his head in the crook of her neck, Robb turned to rest on his side while making sure her body was still connected to his. His touch became soothing and gentle as he whispered his dreams and hopes for a child with her hair and his eyes to be borne from this night. She tiredly giggles as he delicately kisses her cheeks, nose, temple, and brow while he talks.

He wanted to weep tears of joy. He felt almost…blessed. After aimlessly wandering in a barren wasteland with no clear end, Robb felt as close to peace as the first time he shared a bed with (Y/N). Robb wraps his arms around her frame and brings furs to cover them as a chilling breeze enters the tent, and (Y/N) shivers from the chill. He tightens his embrace as sleep takes over him.

He whispers in her ear, “I love you, (Y/N). We will be so happy together. I know we will.”

She slightly hesitates before replying. “I am yours, Robb. I swear this to you.”

Her king was so lost in his bliss that he didn’t notice the sadness in her eyes and the tremble in her voice.

A gentle stream of light stirred Robb awake. He stretched his arms and blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Based on how loud it was outside his tent, it was late in the day. He reached out to hold you once more…when he felt your side of his bed feel cold. Immediately alarmed, Robb shot up and looked around his surroundings.

There was no sign of you anywhere.

Your clothes…your bag…your sword…even your bloody scent was gone!

Robb shot out of bed and hastily dressed himself in only his breeches and doublet to begin searching for you. But just as he was about to leave after putting on his boots, a small scroll had been placed in the middle of his desk. He dashed over and quickly opened it. The instant relief from recognizing your handwriting cruelly died as he read over your words, and he could feel his heart breaking.

Every word I said last night holds true – from this day to my last day. I am yours, Robb Stark. But you cannot be mine.

Also, I plan to make this a...3 part series? Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Please comment your thoughts and reblog if you think more people would like to read this!

Tagging: @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @llonelygoddess, @arcielee, @countrymusiclover, @yns-world, @axelsagewrites, @bre99, @katzoinks, @asongofrhaenyra, @rise-my-angel, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @anewpersonthatexists, @bogbutteronmycroissant, @sylasthegrim, @writingsofwesteros, @julessworldd , @dipperscavern

#robb stark x reader #robb stark x female reader #robb stark x fem reader #robb stark fanfic #robb stark smut #game of thrones fix it #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fic #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #dark robb stark #dark fic #my writing

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thealtoduck · 8 months

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Forbidden Fruit

Theon Greyjoy x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut, Theon in his asshole era, anal sex, loss of virginity, doggy style, use of the word ”whore”, Theon referring to your ass as a ”cunt”, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding, spit as lube, everyone kinda wants to fuck you too…

Summary: Theon has his eyes set on you and wants to be your first…

——

The sounds swords clanging against each other rang out over the courtyard of Winterfell as Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark practised their swordfighting. Both of them in full focus on the task of beating the others.

Theon was just about to land a winning strike when someone behind Robb distracted him, stealing his focus. A beautiful young man, Y/n Poole, the son of the steward of Winterfell. Theon was distracted just long enough for Robb to be able to knock him to the ground.

”Come on Theon, keep your eyes on your opponent” Robb said annoyed and turned to see what Theon had been looking at, his eyes landing on you. ”Y/n, the steward’s son?” Robb questioned his friend. ”I’ve heard one of the chefs claim he took his virginity but he was drunk so i think he might have lied” Robb gossiped as he continued looking at you.

”I wouldn’t mind fucking him myself” he then said to the annoyance of Theon. ”Oh please, is the little lord Robb Stark gonna fuck the steward’s son?” Theon mocked him. ”He needs someone to take his boy cunt like the little whore he is” Theon said looking hungrily towards you as you were talking to a couple of castle guards.

”And that’s going to be you?” Robb questioned sarcastically. But Theon wasn’t listening he was already planning.

——

That night during dinner…

Theon watched you as you sat next to Jon, chatting cheerfully. Theon needed to catch you alone. Luckily for him he’d get his shot soon… You were also sat next to Sansa Stark which put you in the crossfire between her and her sister Arya’s never ending war.

Arya loaded her spoon with a piece of meat pie and launched it towards Sansa… but she missed hitting your chest, dirtying your light grey tunic. ”Arya! Look what you did?!” Sansa scolded her younger sister. ”I’m so sorry about her” Sansa apologised frantically as she tried to wipe of your shirt with a cloth napkin.

”Don’t worry about it Lady Sansa, i’ll just go change” you said calmly, standing up from the table and walking off. Theon saw this was his chance to finally meet you alone.

He soon managed to sneak away from the the dining hall. He stopped by the kitchens and snagged two goblets and a pitcher of wine, then he made his way through Winterfell castle towards the small part occupied by Steward of Winterfell and his family.

He knocked on the door he knew belonged to you. ”One moment” came your voice from the inside. Then the door opened revealing you in a nightshirt and underwear, you quickly wrapped yourself in a thin blue robe to cover up more for you’re unexpected visitor.

”Theon” you said happily at sight of him. ”Sorry, i’m not more properly dressed i was just about to go to bed” you said tying your robe. ”Oh no worries” he said with a flirty smile, you were gonna be even less dressed once he was done with you.

”How can i help you?” you asked. ”Oh, i just wondered if you’d like to have quick drink with me” he said holding up the pitcher and the two goblets he brought. You looked unsure. ”If your not too tired of course” he quickly added.

”Of course, a drink wouldn’t hurt” you said and held open the door for him, letting him in to your bed chamber. Theon observed the room, it was smaller than his own. It had a small square window with a nice view. A little fire place where a fire was burning, heating up the cold castle room.

A square table with a set of two chairs and a clothing chest right next to it. And finally the bed, which was draped in soft blankets. Above it hung a banner for your House, House Poole. The room was textbook definition of what Theon would describe as cozy.

You sat down in one of the chairs by the table, as Theon put the goblets on the table, pouring wine in each and then putting the pitcher down. He sat down in the other chair, you both grabbed your goblets. ”Cheers” Theon said and you clinked your goblets together and drank.

The two of you talked for a while. Theon decided to start testing the waters. He moved his leg slightly making it rest against yours, your eyes drifted to his leg for half a second before you looked back to him but you didn’t move away.

Time passed as you told Theon a story, once you finished it became quiet through the chamber. ”You’re really pretty you know” Theon stated boldly filling the silence in the room. Before you had time to respond Theon started talking ”Some of the staff has been talking about it, how they want to fuck you. Even the lordling Robb Stark said so”.

”And i understand them, you are very pretty” he continued. You looked rather unsure what to answer. ”Tell me Y/n, have you ever been fucked before?” Theon asked shamelessly, leaning closer to you. ”I… no, i have not” you told him, trying to stay casual.

”Would you like to be?” Theon then asked immodestly, leaving you slightly stunned. ”By-…By you?” you asked, Theon gave you a smirk as comformation. ”I-I wouldn’t know what to do” you said shyly. Theon played with the strings of your night shirt and said ”Don’t worry, i’ll show you”.

He then pulled you in to a kiss, his lips pushing hungrily against yours. Theon pulled you both up from your seats leading you to the middle of the room as you made out. Theon pulled of your robe, then his own jacket and he continued until you were both left naked in front of each other.

Your dick had gotten erected from Theon’s sudden interest in you and it made Theon’s own manhood swell with pride. He took your wrist in his hand and guided your hand over his slightly fuzzy chest down to his erect manhood. It was the first time you had ever touched another man in such a manner.

He made you enclose your fingers around his hardend cock and tug at it a little, rubbing him off slowly. ”Feel what you do to me Y/n” he uttered.

He led you backwards towards your beds and your naked bodies climbed up on it. Theon laid you down on the bed and the two of you passionately made out. Theon moved his hands to you ass and let his fingers graze against your hole.

You were unfamiliar with his action as you had never experienced it before but let Theon continue. He slowly started pushing his finger inside you, making you audibly gasp against his lips at the feeling of being streched out. ”That’s right relax” Theon instructed.

Once he added next finger he did it more hastily, making you yelp quietly. Theon let out a small chuckle ”Such a warm nice cunt for me to fuck” Theon said before shoving in a third finger.

Theon then stood up on his knees, he grabbed you and positioned you on all fours, ass spread out in front of him. He spit in to his own hand rubbing it on his manhood. ”I’m gonna take you like a real lord would” Theon said which you wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a warning.

Theon didn’t waste any time and started pushing his rockhard cock inside your virgin hole, making you groan, feeling yourself be filled. ”Fuck your tight around my cock” Theon said pleasureably sheathing himself fully inside you.

Before you had time to adjust he snapped his hips forwards thrusting into you making you release a small cry. ”Was this what he had meant? Was this how lords fucked their wives?” you thought to yourself.

Theon grabbed your hips and started setting a pace a his hips thrust against your ass. His raw cock forcing your walls to stretch, you released several whines as Theon roughly plowed in to you. ”Fuck Theon, you’re so big” you said through your pained but pleasured moans.

Theon grabbed your head as he pounded your ass saying ”What would your steward father say? Seeing his son deflowered by Eddard’s Stark ward like some common whore”. As he thrusted as hard in to you as his body would let him.

”Maybe i should go get him after this and make him come look at his son’s cum stained body” Theon said cockily. You however couldn’t answer him as you had your face pressed against the matress moaning endlessly from the ecstasy of Theon’s cock fucking you.

”Maybe i should start coming by every night and make good use of your cunt and fill you with my seed” he suggested, his thrusts rocking your bed back and forth. ”Shame you can’t have my bastards” he added.

From the endless groans to the creaking bed, you hoped no one could hear you getting your virginity fucked out of you by Theon. You felt your own cock twitching getting close to your orgasm. ”I’m gonna cum” you moaned. And soon after your load dripped down on the sheets below.

Theon kept plowing in to you for several minutes, claiming your ass as his. Sweat glazed his and your body as the room had gotten hot and damp. He grunted and uttered a satisfied ”I’m gonna fill you with my cum”.

With one last rough thrust Theon shoved his manhood deep inside you, his cock erupting staining your innocene with his warm seed. He then pulled out of you with a smirk, seeing his cum leak out of puckered hole and running down your legs. You collapsed on to the matress below in exhaustion.

Theon was just about to get ready to leave but he couldn’t leave you like this. He covered your nakedness under the covers and blankets. He then started getting dressed and before he left planted a kiss on your forehead saying ”You were so good to me, Y/n, better than any common whore, you were divine”. He then gave you a last kiss before he left your bed chambers with a smirk and a feeling of satisfaction, and maybe even a little bit of love.

#theon greyjoy x male reader #theon greyjoy x male!reader #a song of ice and fire x male reader #game of thrones x male reader #game of thrones x male!reader #asoiaf x male reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #theon greyjoy x male reader smut #game of thrones x male reader smut #male reader smut #x male reader smut

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dipperscavern · 17 days

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THE BET - JON SNOW

pairing: jon snow x gn!reader, 4.2k words

synopsis: you’ve made a bet with jon snow — now begs the question, who will come out on top?

authors note: i heard the call for jon snow content, and this idea came to me in the middle of the night wearing dobby the elfs tea cozy. enjoy! <3 [ @eldrith ]

jon snow never considered himself a betting man.

he never considered himself a blushing one, either — or a swooning one. until he met you.

you bring out the best in him, it’s true. but you also (somehow) bring to light his playful side, the one he thought he left behind in winterfell; along with the games he, robb, and theon used to play, the peace of the godswood, the smell of the kitchens wafting through the corridors (stick them with the pointy end).

he had left it all at winterfell on purpose. he needed to shed jon, shed the princely stark-ness he’d grown up with (though he’d never consider himself a real one), and replace it with the black he adorned on his shoulders. ever since he knelt before the weirwood, swearing vows in the sight of the old gods, he was no longer boy — but man. and with that, he left the boyish attributes, replacing them by those of men. warriors. or, at least, he’d like to believe.

partaking in bets was one of the most boyish things he could do, but truly, he could not chide himself for it if he tried. it involves you — it involves making you smile. and that, he will never register as a thing needing scolding, even if it’s only internally.

it was painfully obvious to you and jon the way samwell tarly looked at gilly, daughter of the devil. you would know, it’s how you and jon spend your time looking at one another. sam is head over heels for gilly, always helping her to the best of his abilities, advocating for her, looking at her as if she hung the stars and the moon… yes, samwell tarly was smitten.

you and jon both knew gilly was taken with sam. gilly knew she was taken with sam. the only one who didn’t know gilly was taken with sam, was sam himself.

you and jon are rather protective over sam and gilly both, so while you’d kill and die for them, you’ve left their feelings to be sorted out themselves. of course, you give advice when asked, and perhaps give one a nudge in the right direction on occasion, but is it really meddling if it’s for a good cause?

the true reason sam had kept his feelings to himself so far, was an extremely sweet one. he didn’t want gilly to think he was just using her, or didn’t genuinely care for her. he didn’t want her to be able to look at him and see her father. well, that, and he was shy — but that was one of the things you and jon liked about sam. it somehow made him sweeter.

either way, even with his profound saint-like mindset, you could tell sam was getting closer to telling gilly how he really felt. you saw the way he would open his mouth to say something, how gilly would give him her full attention, then how he’d shrink back down, letting his nerves get the best of him.

sam only grew more frustrated as time went on (never with gilly, only himself). when asked, sam would stumble out something like-

“Gilly — oh, right, she’s um — she’s great...” with a defeated look in his eye, leaving before you could ask further.

staring at her (more than usual), never being able to fully concentrate when she was near. he’d always start to approach her, then let his nerves steer him in the other direction. gilly was now all sam could think about, it being the only topic of conversation jon could coax out of him. sure, it began to drive jon fairly mad, but it was better than the grumbling silence you’d endured at the start of his romantic-turmoil. samwell tarly was nearing the edge of insanity, and you & jon could both tell it wouldn’t be long yet. so, naturally, you’d made a bet.

“You know, I think Sam’s really gonna do it.”

your voice cut through the silence as you and jon cleaned up the mess hall. right now, you were looking out a window, watching sam and gilly have a conversation. sam was fidgeting, the way he always does when he’s nervous.

“You must not know him very well, then.” jon says. you turn to give jon an exasperated look, barely concealing the roll of your eyes. he looks up at you, and you see the upward quirk of his lips that tells you he finds this — the joint disagreeing — truly enjoying.

“I mean it,” you say, touching your tongue to the roof of your mouth, turning back to resume observing them. as gilly and sam share a smile, a noise akin to one you’d make seeing a small puppy rises from the back of your throat, voice softening. “Awh— Jon, look at them.”

this does the trick of grabbing jon’s attention, and he stops his table-scrubbing to come join you at the window. he shakes his head, exhaling through his nose. “It’ll never happen,” he says.

“Gods, Snow,” the use of his surname in place of your usual (honey-dripping) ‘jon’ has his head snapping to you. “I didn’t take you for faithless.”

the chuckle jon lets slip has shivers crawling up your spine. you choose to ignore it. “I only mean,” he says, re-wetting his scrub brush. “that Sam is one to take it slow.” you turn to give him a look that has him backtracking.

“Slower than he has been,” he clarifies. he looks to you, and takes your lack of response as acceptance, moving to resume his table-scrubbing. you resume as well, and a few seconds pass before you stop, looking at jon with newfound defiance.

“No— your absence of faith does not deter me,” you say, pointing an accusing finger at jon. he bites back his smile at how cute you look in your retaliation. “Sam’s going to do it, I know this.”

jon takes the bait, setting down his scrub brush, leaning both hands against the table. “Alright, and I know he won’t.”

you scoff at his stubbornness. “He’ll approach her by the next moon’s turn.” you don’t give sam much time, the next moons turn being only a week away. you don’t give it any thought.

jon raises his brows. “And if he doesn’t?”

“Then you win.” you say, lightly shrugging. “Aye, I would. What would I get in return?” he asks, unrelenting. you search for something worthy to offer, but come up short. he fills in the gaps for you.

“Whatever I want?”

you nod. you usually wouldn’t put such a promise in a man of the nights watches hands, most being criminals & rapists, but it’s not just anyone you’re trusting. it’s jon. he’s safe.

“You’re on, Snow.” you say, returning to your table-scrubbing without further word than that. jon ignores the butterflies in his stomach, and attempts to scrub them away on the hard wood of the worn-out oak table.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

over the next week, you’re starting to become faithless; it seems the gods have abandoned you.

you thought his frustration would boil over, giving him the confidence he needed to confess, but yet again, samwell tarly has exceeded expectations in the department of pining.

jon silently relishes in his oncoming victory, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so — prone to smiling. whenever he sees you, he bites the inside of his cheek (or his tongue), in every effort to conceal the massive grin that threatens to erupt on his face. this only makes you grumble, and edds told you if you don’t stop rolling your eyes so much they’ll get stuck like that.

sam has peeled away from everything entirely, it seems. keeping his head down, only speaking when spoken to, always looking like he has something on his mind. he’s like this with everyone, jon, gilly, and you included. the nights watch is feeling the absence of their usual beam of light, and edds proclaimed if you, jon, and gilly aren’t being spoken to, then they all should keep an eye out for wildlings flying over the wall until further notice.

now, when you and jon see each other, it’s more silent than ever. you know if he opens his mouth it’ll be boasting proclamations of onset victory, and you can’t say if that happens you won’t put your hands on him. he seems to know this too, smart enough to keep to himself and not press your buttons. somehow this only frustrates you more. maybe if jon was more insufferable, you’d have a harder time loving him.

even with your own romantic dilemma, the main thing on your mind is sam, and the stupid bet you shouldn’t have made in the first place. you’ve tried leaving sam alone, forgetting about it entirely, praying, and even giving him a nudge in the right direction. making sure jon wasn’t near, then asking about his day, and after, about gilly — but iif you ask about gilly, you get the same record on repeat.

“What? Oh, Gilly, yeah… yeah she’s great. Working with Maester Aemon ‘nd… she’s great, really.” he’d say, fiddling with his hands, gaze trapped on the floor (or, if gilly was in the vicinity, on her).

your gaze would soften, but even you aren’t enough this time. “Sam, look, maybe you should—“

“Oh— I’ve got to go, I’m late for my meeting with Jon. Bye.. bye then!” he’d call, walking quickly in the other direction (not toward jon’s chambers), and as he walks away, you could almost see victory leaving with him.

by the end of the week, you and sam are in the same boat emotionally. jon thinks if you scrub the tables any harder you’ll break the wood, and this time, he doesn’t refrain from mentioning it.

“Careful.”

he means it in (half) good faith, but you glare at him all the same. and you see the shift in his tongue that means he’s biting down on it to stop his smile from appearing. you roll your eyes, and the image of edds face appears in your head as you do so.

you scrub angrily for the next few minutes, until you can’t bear it anymore.

“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it, Jon.”

he glances up at you, a raise of his brows appearing as he speaks. “Who’s faithless now?”

“Don’t. You and I both know he was near to burst a week ago.” you say, crossing your arms and looking out the same window you did the night a bet was made.

jon makes a noise of disagreement, but (intelligently) doesn’t press any further.

“I just don’t get it. How can — how can you be so,” you look for the right wording, emotion punctuating your sentences. “so in love with someone without telling them?”

jon momentarily stops scrubbing, entire body pausing at your words. luckily for him, you’re too caught up with sam to notice. jon gets it.

“He doesn’t want to ruin what they have.” he says, and if you weren’t so frustrated, you’d pick up on the tone that says he isn’t just talking about sam and gilly. you come to sit at the bench of the table hes working on, and jon notices the color of your eyes bathed in the light exuding from the window.

“Right, but—“ you sigh, trying to string your thoughts together. “but they could have more. Isn’t it worth the risk, than to spend your time only being that? Always dancing on the edge of more?”

the sincerity jon can see in your eyes only makes his heart race, but it also makes him reflect on your relationship. jon’s in love with you, that much is easy to pinpoint, but do you love him? would you allow his tainted hands to sully you, if given the opportunity? jon’s gaze flickers to your lips, and returns back to your eyes.

though quick, in the silence, you notice it. you take pity, leaning back to allow jon his personal space (that you hadn’t even registered invading) back. he only wishes you’d return, even closer this time.

but he doesn’t say that. among all the things unspoken…

“Sam doesn’t think it worth the risk.” he decides, and he can see the gears turning in your head. he returns to light scrubbing to give you time to string your thoughts together. you don’t like speaking without correlation (the first thing jon learned about you).

a few seconds pass before you speak, and your voice is quieter than its usual volume. “Do you think it worth the risk?”

jon’s silence only prompts you to make the question clearer. “If you had the opportunity, would you risk it?”

would he? would he speak your name, of the devotion he harbors for you? he could take the risk, but what’s the rush? jon’s never considered his time with you limited. he shrugs.

“It depends,” he says. “On the person.. how long I have. Some are content where they stand.”

you nod, but he can tell that’s not the answer you were looking for. “I think so,” he adds as an afterthought. you seem content with it, and brush his knuckles in passing as you return to your own table. it makes his heart jump.

jon would think it accidental if he didn’t know you so well.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

you think you could smell jon’s amusement from anywhere you stand in castle black.

the moon turns tonight, and sam seems no closer now than he was a week ago. the jest is on you for putting faith in the confidence of cowards.

you’re perfectly content to avoid jon for the entirety of the day, and even worse, he seems content to let you. you meet each others eyes in passing, and while your gaze is defeated, his is only cloaked with half-amused sympathy (accompanied by that smile he adorns only when he’s with you). if you looked closer, you don’t doubt you could find some arrogance in there, but you’re too busy being a sore loser to try. it doesn’t occur to you that jon hates not seeing you achieve, even if it’s only a bet. one that’s in his favor.

the nights watch had decided to celebrate the moons turning with drinks after supper tonight. usually, the moon isn’t any topic worthy of celebration, but things have been unusually quiet in castle black lately. as far as white walkers and wildlings go, that is. why not have a little fun?

the mess hall is warm, bustling with the combined voices of black brothers. bellies are full, and the ale in everyone’s cup allows for a lighthearted atmosphere. you’ve decided to put the bet on a back burner, a simmering problem to deal with tomorrow. you’re warm & fuzzy, looser with your tongue than usual; although you can’t help wincing whenever someone drops food or creates a new stain on the tables.

you forego avoiding jon, and not just because you naturally gravitate toward him when drinking ale. he’s more than eager to keep you by his side, not fully trusting anyone in the room with you incapacitated (maybe edd on blood moons).

much to your dismay, there’s been no sign of samwell tarly. he had vacated the premises after everyone was done supping, and before the ale had been poured. everyone noticed; of course they did. sam was alike to the glue that held much together. sure, he was cowardly, and occasionally frustrating, but sam was the voice of reason. and everyone was starting to feel the weight of his absence.

bet or not, you think after tonight you might have to seriously intervene in your friends love life. you hate to see him like this, dejected and hopeless…. maybe you have a better chance of guiding gilly than sam. in the midst of your thoughts, you glance out the window noticing the sun setting. and with it, goes any hope you had at victory.

jon’s gaze follows yours, and recognizes your defeat with you. but still, ever the gentleman, he doesn’t mention it; only allowing a small upward tug to play on his lips. you return it, momentarily leaning into jon in a silent acknowledgment, before getting roped into grenns white-walker conspiracy theory.

the hours pass easily, greatly enjoying the boisterous atmosphere, the ale making you warm & floaty. you find it harder to keep your eyes off jon as the night goes on, and you almost internally chide yourself for it; until you recognize that every time you’ve stolen a glance at jon, he’s already been looking at you.

eventually, it gets late, and you want to turn in. the only reason jon’s been here so long is you anyways, so when he says his goodbyes along with you, silently following you out, you don’t pay it any mind. your tipsy brain clouds your judgement, and you wrap a hand around his bicep, the muscle underneath making you feel fuzzy.

jon only glances down to where you meet, afraid if he looks too long, you’ll get shy and pull away. and he really, really doesn’t want you to pull away.

you walk in silence until a thought occurs to you. you decide to push aside your pride and propriety, letting instead curiosity steer your tongue.

“So, Snow,” you begin, and he hums, propping you to go on. “Since you’ve won, what’ll it be?”

it seems that the ale isn’t just affecting you, because the question makes jon smile almost too easily. you want to see more of it, so you continue.

“A handshake… the clothes off my back… my soul…” you remark, and it gets you just want you wanted — jon shakes his head, smile not leaving his face.

“Not here,” he says, and he steers you both in the direction of the wall. what jon could possibly want that would need the privacy of the wall, you’re unsure (no you aren’t).

the walk there is quiet, the only sound being the wind flapping your coats. it only makes you more aware of the warmth emanating from jon, and you both pretend you don’t lean into each other. you only remove your hand from him as you approach the box, and he puts a hand on the small of your back to usher you in front of him. if jon would do so without the added ale is a thing that you question for only a moment, as the creaking of the box signals it’s begun ascent.

now you really are curious as to what jon could want. he’s an honorable man… does he need a secret kept? a new cloak? or does he just wish for a conversation in the solaced privacy of the wall?

the ride up feels shorter than usual, but you’re not sure what to blame it on. it’s a strange feeling, your nerves on fire, yet the ale douses it to a low buzz. you partially blame jon, always forgetting yourself when he’s present. how you ever hope to confront your feelings is beyond you.

when you step out, jon offers his arm this time, and you gladly accept it. perhaps you’re not the only one who finds comfort in the action.

you begin your walk, and based on the route, you think he’s taking you both to your favorite place. a quiet indent in the wall, close enough to not be a far walk, but long enough to get away from prying eyes and listening ears. it has a small wall of ice that acts as a (sort of) guard-rail, coming to the waist — but the rest is left open, the expanse of woods beyond the wall available to be gazed upon.

the quiet is comfortable, as it always is with jon. you have much on the tip of your tongue, but give him the courtesy of speaking first.

it’s not long before you’re approaching your little sanctuary; scattered black brothers are guarding the expanse of the wall behind you, and in front of you, but none linger around this area. the thought remains in the back of your mind as you make the turn, walking into the indent, the view beyond it making your breath hitch.

you remove your hand from jon’s arm, instead splaying it across the waist-high-iced-guard-rail. it’s freezing, even under your gloved hand, yet it’s a welcome respite from the way jon sets your nerves alight, turning your skin to fire. patience is hard, yet you wait for him to speak.

“What you said,” he begins. “about taking the risk,”

you turn to look at him, but this time, he doesn’t meet your eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lip, the way it does when he’s nervous. what could jon have to be nervous about?

“It made me think…”

whatever jon was going to say, you’re not sure you’ll ever know, because rapidly approaching footsteps have the words dying on his tongue — looking behind you both. who is running down the wall at this hour? and why?

a figure appears, out of breath and panting. sam.

“I looked for you! In the— in the mess hall, but— Grenn and Edd said you weren’t there, said you’d left,” you and jon must look as confused as you are, since when did sam run?

a grin erupts on sam’s face as he gets past his introduction. “I did it! I really did it!”

“Did what?” jon prompts, but you think he already knows.

“Gilly!” sam says, and you can feel your brows instantly un-crease themselves. “Well, I— you know, I was nervous. Didn’t want to ruin what we had or, or what she thought of me but.. I just sort of— went up to her and did it! I can’t believe she said yes…” he says, wistfully looking to the sky with a smile on his face, like he can’t believe the gods allowed it to happen, either. you wore one of your own, bathing in jon’s defeat.

sam looks at you both for a minute, then at jon, and the smile he’s wearing dies down as he realizes he’s interrupted. “Oh— oh, sorry… I’ll go now, I just—“ reality seems to hit him again, as another smile erupts on his face.

“I did it!” he says, then spins on his heel, leaving you both atop the wall.

a few moments pass, before you turn to look at jon. you both have a look of disbelief, yours mixed with a smile — and strangely enough, even in defeat, so is his.

“I’m thinking your rations for a month, the cloak you’re wearing...” you say, and jon huffs out a laugh (they come easier around you)

“What Sam did, is called blindsiding—“

“Hm,” you say, interrupting the end of his sentence. “It looks like defeat, instead. What were you going to demand, again?”

you’re only teasing, but you accidentally hit a soft spot. you see the way his smile falters, seriousness beginning its return to his face. it makes your own smile disappear.

“I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to…” you say, but once you see the expression on his face, something clicks. “What were you going to ask for, Jon?”

it seems like you’ve asked him to throw himself off the wall. he shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter.”

“To me it does.”

he begins to turn away from you, but your hand flies to his arm, halting him. he sighs in frustration. you try to catch his gaze, but he makes effort not to look at you.

“I won, and that’s what I ask.” you say, “For you to tell me what you wanted.”

you can see his internal turmoil, but that only makes you want to shrink away. what plagues jon so badly he dares not to speak it aloud? not speak of it to you?

you can tell he doesn’t want to say it, but a bet is a bet.

“You.”

your brows scrunch involuntarily. “Me?”

“I wanted to kiss you.” he says, his gaze flickering momentarily to your lips. “Want.”

your lips part in shock. not that he wants to kiss you (you’ve known. you want to kiss him) but that you’ve been able to coax him to say as much.

your gaze flicks to his lips once, twice, and you step closer — body almost flush with his. at the same time you reach up, jon leans down, and you connect your lips with his. they’re soft, warm; everything you thought they’d be when your thoughts would drift to him.

the kiss is sweet, tentative. exploring unknown territory, but also wanting — needing. you feel jon’s hand come to your waist, pulling you even closer (if possible), your body now flush against his.

eventually, the need to breathe takes over, and you both (reluctantly) pull apart. his cheeks are flushed, and you have an idea that it’s not from the cold this time. his pupils are blown, want pooling in them; but, also, something else swims in the midst. confusion.

“But— I lost,” he says, looking to you for an answer. you pretend to take mild offense, a playful roll of your eyes accompanying your words.

“You know, Jon, when someone gets kissed, they usually don’t consider it a loss.”

it seems to be the right answer, a smile tugging its way back up his lips. his response is him leaning down to kiss you again.

#game of thrones #jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow prompt #jon snow x you #hashtag #need that #idk why this just came to me #also i think this is (accidentally but not unwelcome) gn!reader #so lmk in the comments below if there’s anything gender implying pls and thank you #gn!reader

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raven-dor · 2 months

Text

everyone adores you (at least i do)

In which robb stark and his new bride get aquainted

PAIRING: robb stark x baratheon!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, new love, slight nsfw, reader is mentioned to have black hair

WORD COUNT: 2,827

The festivities had been fun-filled, to say the least, despite Catelyn having to leave before they started. Her goodbye had been bittersweet; Robb now had no adult relatives at the reception, and Y/N felt as if she was completely alone, even though she barely knew Catelyn.

He hadn't touched a single drop of his ale, and Y/N couldn't tell if that was a good or bad sign. The night had soon ended, and they bid goodbye to their guests. Theon was the last to leave, smirking and leaning in, whispering in Robb's ear. She rolled her eyes; she had seen this before at many receptions in Kings Landing. The groom's friend would joke about the bride's virginity, and the groom would laugh, joking back.

Robb's face went red, and he smacked Theon's shoulder. "Watch your mouth, Greyjoy."

Y/N was pleasantly surprised, her stomach fluttering at the thought of Robb defending her, even if they had just met. Theon nodded, obviously too drunk to be embarrassed. He looked over to Y/N, bowing mockingly. "My lady."

She smiled kindly. "Have a restful night, Theon."

Robb held out his arm. "Shall we retire?"

This is when all of the nerves Y/N had been holding off kicked in. She nodded, but from there to their chambers, she had sworn she blacked out. He shut the door, standing awkwardly by the fire. She looked out the window, fidgeting.

"Should we-"

"I'm not a virgin!" She looked down at the ground. "I'm not a virgin, so I-" Robb laughed. Actually laughed. She glared at him. "I would appreciate it if you didn't laugh at me."

"It's not you, I just..." He stared at her like she had three heads. "Do you think I care?"

"Well... yes." She nodded. "Brides are supposed to be innocent." She tried to hold back her distaste for the term, though her face certainly showed it.

He nodded. "Yes. They are. But that doesn't matter to me. Your honor shall remain intact; do not worry."

Y/N smiled. "I didn't think this is how the night would go."

"Oh." He sauntered over, staring at her dangerously. "And how did you imagine this night going?"

She fluttered her eyelashes, suddenly very flustered. "Well, in every nightmare, you would call me a whore and then take me without any-" Her eyes widened. "I mean-"

He laughed even harder. "Oh, Y/N." His hand inched around her waist. "I hope the men in Kings Landing treated you correctly." His eyes squinted. "They didn't-"

She shook her head, looking down at her hands. "No, it was-" She blushed. "It was something we both wanted."

He nodded. "Well, in any case, we do not have to do anything tonight if you do not want to." He stepped back, taking off his cloak, boots, and shirt. She tried not to stare at his abdomen, looking anywhere else but him.

"And how do you plan to keep my honor intact?"

He pulled out a dagger, slicing a small cut on his palm. Y/N gasped. "Robb, that is-"

He pulled the blanket up, putting a few drops of blood on the sheets. He admired his work like he was a painter. "See? No one shall be the wiser."

Y/N sighed. "Come here. You're going to make a mess dripping blood everywhere."

He sat in the chair by the fire, watching her every movement. She still had her wedding dress on, which made Robb happy. She looked like an angel. She huffed her hands on her hips as she skirted around the room, utterly lost. "Where is the bandage?"

"The cupboard, just there."

She stood on her tiptoes, reaching up. "Ah." She walked back over, ripping some off. "I'll use some to clean it and then some ale to sterilize."

"Sterilize? Just put the bandage on, I'll be fine-"

"Just let me help you. It's the least I can do after you did this for me."

"You don't have any debt, Y/N. I can do something kind for you, and you don't have to immediately repay me."

"I know. I'm simply showing affection." She huffed. "Now, hold still, this will hurt."

He laughed. "I believe I will be fine. It is only-" He hissed. "That stings."

She laughed. "That is how you know it is working." He stared at her, smiling as she worked. She was beautiful in this light, he realized. She was beautiful in all lights. "There, all finished." She looked up, her breath catching.

He smiled lightly, whispering. "Thank you."

She nodded, standing up. "Of course." She looked back out the window once more. "Should we-" A hand reached around her waist, pulling her back.

"You are beautiful."

"Robb-" She turned around, staring into his eyes. "We do not-"

"If you do not want this, say the words, and I will go to bed. But I-" He gulped, staring at her lips. "I do."

She smiled, her tense stance easing. "I do, too."

"Thank the gods." He pulled her closer, bringing her lips to his. "You are divine."

She laughed, melting in his arms. "Robb-"

"I love when you say my name." He pulled at the strings on the back of her dress. "I- turn around."

"I can undo them if you just give me a moment."

"No, I want to." She nodded, turning around. He quickly unlaced her dress, pupils dilating as her dress hit the floor.

She turned back towards him slowly, face to the ground. He grinned, staring. "You are beautiful, have I told you?"

"Just a few moments ago." She tilted her head, teasing. "But I wouldn't mind hearing it again."

He grinned, pulling her closer. "You will hear it constantly; I will make sure of it." He walked her towards the bed. "Now lay back."

The morning light peaked through the window, but neither of them stirred. Well, Y/N didn't stir; Robb had been up for hours staring at his wife, smiling gently at her still form.

A knock came off the door, and Robb sighed, leaning his head back on the bedpost. "Come in!"

She still had not moved, not even when Maester Luwin walked in rather loudly, in Robb's opinion. "Good morning, my lord; the possible steward is here for your appointment."

He nodded, his face permanently stuck in a grimace. "Very well. I'll be down in just a moment."

"My lord." Robb waited until Maester Luwin left to look back down at Y/N and found that she was already looking up at him. She laughed, caressing her hand over his chest. "Good morning."

He glared playfully. "And how long have you been up?"

"Since Maester Luwin walked in with iron boots." She sat up, leaning her head on his shoulder. "He walks very loud."

Robb nodded, smiling down at her. "He does, doesn't he?"

She stood up, walked across the room to her chest, and pulled out her dress for the day. "You have a meeting."

He just stared, grinning much too brightly for how early it was. "Can a man not bask in his wife's presence?"

"You could," she pulled her petticoat on, " if you did not have a day full of appointments."

He groaned. "And what will you be doing all day?"

"Giving Bran company." She laughed. "Perhaps I can entertain him into waking up."

Robb smiled. "If anyone could, it would be you."

She huffed, looking over her shoulder. "Can you lace my dress, please?"

He nodded, rolling out of bed. "The things I do for you."

"Robb, we have been married for less than a day. Please do not start your complaining until-" She put a finger on her chin. "Until a week from now."

"Very well." He laughed, pulling at the strings. "One more week of bliss."

"Thank the gods." She smiled.

Strolling through the halls with her books and breakfast in hand, Y/N finally felt at peace with her new life. It only took one night of- She blushed, shaking her head as if the action got rid of her thoughts. Bran's door was already open, and she’d grinned at the sight.

"You're awake!"

He just stared at her, not bothering to say anything. Old Nan smiled at the young woman. "My lady. I was just about to tell him a story about a crow."

Bran's voice was monotone as he spoke. "I hate your stories."

"I know a story about a boy who hates stories."

Y/N laughed, covering her mouth quickly. "Sorry."

"I could tell you a story about Ser Duncan the Tall. Those were always your favorites."

"Those weren't my favorites. My favorites were the scary ones."

Old Nan sighed. "Oh, my sweet summer child. What do you know about fear? Fear is for the winter when the snow falls a hundred feet deep. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hide for years and children are born and live and die all in darkness. That is the time for fear, my little lord when the White Walkers move through the woods. Thousands of years ago, there came a night that lasted a generation. Kings froze to death in their castles, same as the shepherds in their huts. And women smothered their babies rather than see them starve, and wept and felt the tears freeze on their cheeks. So is this the sort of story that you like?"

Bran nodded. Y/N sat beside his bed, entranced.

Old Nan continued. "The White Walkers came for the first time. They swept through cities and kingdoms, riding their dead horses. Hunting with their packs of pale spiders big as hounds-"

The door rattled, and Bran and Y/N jumped. Robb walked through the door, smiling at his brother. He sighed, looking over to Old Nan. "What are you telling him now?"

"Only what the little lord wanted to hear."

"Get your supper. I want some time with him."

She nodded. "Perhaps that is enough of scary stories today."

Robb waited until she had left to talk to his brother. "One time, she told me the sky was blue because we live inside the eye of a blue-eyed giant named Macomber."

Bran just stared, no emotions evident on his face. It broke her heart to see such a young boy so melancholy. "Maybe we do."

Rob's smile fell, and he sat down on the bed beside Bran. "How do you feel? You still don't remember anything?" He shook his head softly. "Bran, I've seen you climb a thousand times. In the wind, in the rain... a thousand times. You never fall."

"I did, though." He knew something, something he wasn't telling anyone, and Y/N had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with her family. "It's true isn't it, what Maester Luwin says about my legs?"

Robb nodded.

Bran sighed, looking at the ceiling. "I'd rather be dead."

Robb's eyes widened. "Don't ever say that."

Bran looked down, staring at his brother. "I'd rather be dead."

She sighed. "Perhaps we should talk about something else." She smiled down at Bran. "Would you like to hear stories about King's Landing?"

Bran nodded slowly. "Alright."

She leaned forward. "Anything you'd like to hear about in particular?"

"Tell me about your parents."

She laughed. "Are you quite serious?" He nodded once more, staring at her curiously. She gulped, putting her book on the table beside her. "Well, my parents, they..." She looked to Robb for help before realizing that he, too, had no idea what they were like.

"My mother was very young when she had to marry my father. You know that your Aunt Lyanna and my father were engaged?" Bran nodded again. "My mother could never amount to your Aunt in my father's eyes, which caused problems in their marriage. Before I was born, my mother was pregnant with a boy, and when he was just a year old, he caught a fever. He couldn't shake it, even though he fought hard." She smiled sadly. "Very hard. He was my mother's first child with beautiful black hair. And then, when he died..." She took a deep breath. "My mother was heartbroken. My father wasn't allowed to grieve, and so he- I guess he used ale, mutton, and-" She looked at Robb, blushing. "Other things to forget. Then they had me."

Bran tilted his head. "Do you know why none of your siblings have black hair like yours?"

She didn't know why persay, but she had a gut feeling. She had seen her mother and Uncle Jamie when she was younger, closer than they should have been for siblings. "I don't. The Lannister blond won thrice. I guess that means I'm stronger than the rest of them. My father, I guess, treats me kinder because I remind him of his firstborn, his darling boy."

Robb scoffed. "Joffrey not good enough for him?"

Y/N laughed. "Joffrey is a wicked boy. I fear the day he rules, truly." She looked down at Bran, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "That's not to say they do not enjoy each other's company. Marriage is difficult, but my mother and father make it work. They may not be in love, but they understand each other."

Bran huffed. "Your Uncle Jamie..."

"Yes?"

"Is he close with your siblings?"

She nodded. "Closer than with me, that is for sure. He's very protective of them, which I appreciate. Tommen and Myrcella are good children; they need protection. Joffrey, on the other hand—" She laughed, shaking her head. "There is no saving that boy."

Y/N smiled as Bran slept, glad that his mind was otherwise occupied. She hated that he wished death upon himself; he was so young, so full of life. Summer lay beside him, standing watch. The door opened, and Theon walked through, Bran's eyes shooting open.

Summer growled, seemingly glaring at the young Greyjoy. Y/N cooed, shaking her head. "Summer, it's alright."

Theon bowed. "We have visitors."

Bran huffed. "I don't want to see anyone."

"Really? If I was cooped up all day with no one but this old bat for company, I'd go mad."

She looked up from her book, staring expectedly. Theon smiled. "Not including you, my lady." He looked back to Bran. "Anyway, you don't have a choice. Robb's waiting."

She stood, leaving her book on the table. "It'll be nice, the fresh air."

Bran rolled his eyes. "There's fresh air here."

She laughed. "You know what I meant, Bran."

"I don't want to go."

Theon sighed. "Neither do I. But Robb's lord of Winterfell, which means I do what he says, and you do what I say." He called out. "Hodor!"

A lumbering giant of a man walked through the door, smiling. "Hodor?"

"Help Bran down the hall."

"So it's true."

She grinned. "Hello, Uncle Tyrion."

Tyrion waved, staring at Bran. "Hello, Bran. Do you remember anything about what happened?"

Maester Luwin spoke. "He has no memory of that day."

She hissed. "Uncle, what a question."

He sighed. "Curious."

The young woman walked up to the table, sitting beside Robb. "Why are you here?"

Tyrion ignored him, addressing Bran. "Would your charming companion be so kind as to kneel? My neck is beginning to hurt."

"Kneel, Hodor."

"Do you like to ride, Bran?"

The young boy nodded. "Yes. Well, I mean, I did like to."

Maester Luwin glared. "The boy has lost the use of his legs."

"What of it? With the right horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride."

"I'm not a cripple."

"Then I'm not a dwarf. My father will rejoice to hear it."

Y/N sighed. "Uncle, please get to the point."

"I have a gift for you." He handed Bran a scroll. "Give that to your saddler; he'll provide the rest." He looked to Robb. "You must shape the horse to the rider. Start with a yearling and teach it to respond to the reins and to the boy's voice."

"Will I really be able to ride?"

Tyrion nodded. "You will. On horseback, you'll be as tall as any of them."

Robb glared in confusion. "Is this some kind of trick? Why do you want to help him?"

"I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things."

This only confirmed her suspicion that her family had something to do with Bran's situation. She leaned over, resting her hand on Robb's knee. "He is merely trying to help, my dear."

Robb nodded, looking back down to the Lannister. "You've done my brother a kindness. The hospitality of Winterfell is yours."

"Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark. There's a brothel outside your walls. There, I'll find a bed, and both of us can sleep easier."

"Uncle, please at least stay for dinner." She smiled. "I've so longed to hear of the Wall."

He stared, his eyes softening. "Fine. But only because you are my favorite niece."

#robb stark #robb stark x reader #got #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfiction #literature #house stark #stark #catelyn stark #theon greyjoy #tyrion lannister

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axelsagewrites · 9 months

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Robb Stark*Honey Cakes

Pairing: Robb x f! reader

Word count: 1830

Part Two to Cloak however can be read as a stand alone

Warnings: reader being jealous, secret relationship, but mostly just pure enemies to lovers’ fluff

Masterlist Here

At thirteen you despised Robb, more than anyone really, so why is it know you were sat down the table for him trying desperately not to stare at him? Your parents had originally tried to broker a marriage pact between you and the Stark however due to your mutual hatred of each other that plan fizzled and died. No one even knew you liked the boy. Well apart from Robb.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispered in your ear, his breath tingling the nape of your neck as he leaned down so no one else would hear as he walked out the room behind you.

Sansa glanced back, raising an eyebrow when she saw the warm flush on your face, but you managed to wave her off. Instead of letting him torture you any longer you grabbed her arms, “Shall we go see if the kitchen has any spare lemon cakes?” you asked, and Sansa quickly grinned in agreement.

You sat in the kitchen with Sansa for a good couple hours, laughing and gossiping about all the people at Winterfell. “Well apparently Alice, you know that Manderley girl. Well apparently, she has a crush on Robb,” Sansa said, gagging at her brother’s name.

Your eyes widened but you soon covered it up as Sansa grimaced about someone potentially liking her brother, “Who told you that?”

“Jane,” she said, picking at the crumbs left of the cakes you had both scoffed, “Apparently, she was hanging around the stables waiting for Robb so she could ask for help getting on her horse. Bit desperate if you ask me. It’s not like Robbs anything special,”

“Huh that’s so weird. It’s not like Robbs dumb enough to fall for that,” You did your best to act natural, but you could see Sansa’s eyes narrowing. “Well, you’d hope anyway,”

“Yeah,” Sansa said, her voice trailing off for a moment, “Then again according to some of the ugh boys,” she said, shuddering meaning you knew she was talking about Theon despite also knowing she had a major crush on him, “he’s had some…women at his room,”

“Oh?” this time you couldn’t not sit up straight.

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t tell anyone who. Theon thinks its some,” she paused to lean in and whisper, “whore,” she said, her eyes whipping around the room, “from the village,”

You sucked in your breath, trying hard not to either find Robb and kill him or cry, “He doesn’t seem like that kind of man,”

“That’s what Jon said but then who was in his room?”

“When was it?” you asked as if you wanted to break your own heart.

That was until Sansa said it, “Last Sunday,”

Fuck. Last Sunday after not being able to sleep and being too afraid of the nightmares to come you turned to Robb for some kind of comfort. Nothing happened but you did sleep in his chambers and then he helped you sneak back at first light. “How strange,” you muttered before trying to change the topic, but your mind still lingered on how good Robbs morning hair looked.

The cook eventually grew tired of your whispering and threw you both out the kitchen. Instead, you went to Sansa’s room to practise your needle point then eventually trudged back to your own room. When you entered your chamber, everything seemed normal. That was until you saw the honey cake sitting beside your bed with a note.

“I tried for lemon, but someone had eaten them all” – it read, making you laugh at the note. You sat on the bed, picking up the cake and smiling at the single wildflower he’d sat beside it.

The next morning you arrived at the dining hall before any of the stark children. Your parents were sat with the ned and cat at the head table, so you ended up plopping down in an empty seat and a near by table. “Morning,” an unbelievably smooth voice grinned as Robb sat himself in the seat across you.

“Morning,” you said as you tried hard not to smile too largely back. “You’re almost as sweet as that honey,” you said, lowering your voice.

A faint blush covered his cheeks, “But not as sweet as you,” he said but as he opened his mouth to speak a gritty, irritating, annoying voice spoke up.

“Good morning, Robb,” came the sing song voice of Alice who you had never thought annoying until last night.

Robb barely glanced over his shoulder at her as she walked off, “Morning Alice,” he said as he turned his attention back to you. his eyebrows squinted at the now stoney look on your face, “What?”

“Nothing,”

“Cmon tell me,”

“It’s nothing,”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me,” Robb rapidly repeating, grinning wider at each jab.

You sighed, “Fine. Its just,” you sighed again, “she has a crush on you,”

His face froze for a moment before he burst into absolute laughter, “Oh the gods,” he laughed, clutching at his stomach as both of your parents began to stare.

“Quit it!” you whispered, slapping at his head.

“You’re jealous,” Robb laughed, thankfully quieter, as he swatted your hand away, “Aw honey that’s adorable,”

“I’m not your honey,” you grumbled, “and I’m not jealous,”

“Am not,”

“Are too,”

“Am not!”

“Are too- “

“Youd think by now you two would grow up,” Sansa yawned as she sat beside you, and you were both forced to act like nothing happened.

Later that day, for no other reason you swear, you decided to go riding soon after you overheard Robb suggest the idea to Jon. Sansa was thankfully in lessons meaning you quickly changed and heading down to the stables.

“Robbie, could you help me- “Alice began to say as you walked in however, she hadn’t seen you.

Robb however did, “Oh hey!” he greeted, walking past Alice who now wore a deflated look, “Oh sorry Alice, Jon can you give her a hand?” Jon went to step forward, but Alice muttered something about her parents before turning and leaving. “Huh, weird,” Robb half grinned.

“You wanna come riding with us?” Jon asked you as he began to fix his own saddle.

You glanced at Robb before nodding, “Yeah sure lemme get my saddle ready first,”

“I’ll get it,” Robb said, moving to grab it before you could stop him.

Jon laughed and rolled his eyes as he finished his own horses’ reins, “So at what point are you two love birds gonna admit it,”

“Admit what- “

“Save it,” Jon rolled his eyes, “He stinks of your perfume, and you’ve accepted his help in the history of well ever,” he said as he flung his arm around your shoulder, “Aw sister,” he teased as he ruffled your hair.

“Fuck off,” you grumbled as you escaped his grip and tried to fix your hair.

However, Robb walked past and laughed, “Adorable,” he grinned as he kissed the top of your head before fixing your horse. It was actually nice to be able to be open about not hating Robb as you three went around the gods’ woods. However, after a very pointed look from Robb and a lot of teasing from Jon he finally decided to throw Robb a bone and go back himself.

“Are we ever gonna tell anyone we don’t hate each other anymore?” Robb asked, ruining the perfectly good conversation about how gorgeous he thought you looked today.

You grinned at him, “Who said I don’t hate you anymore?”

“The feelings mutual,” he laughed as you finally returned to the stables. “I’m just saying would it be so bad,” he asked as he jumped off his horse, quickly moving to help you down. You swung your leg around, so you were sat sideways on the horse. Robb moved to grab your hips, lifting you down. Your arms went to his shoulders to steady yourself.

“I don’t know. I mean maybe…” you started to say but trailed off as your feet hit the ground, but Robb didn’t step back. His warm breath fanned your face, tickling your cheeks. His hands moved slowly to the small of your back, pulling you in closer till you were flush against him. His lips were only a fraction away and it only took a couple seconds till you felt them brush against yours. you couldn’t wait anymore as you pushed up, closing the final gap.

Sure, you had been flirting all week, but this was your first kiss with him, and you melted into it. if his hands were not on your back you may have collapsed. Just as your hands went into his hair, which was unbelievably soft, you heard a gasp.

You pulled back to see Sansa standing in the stable doorway. “You’re the whore?!” she asked, shocked before her cheeks flushed red, “I don’t mean- “

“Sansa!” Robb half bellowed, turning round ready to tear his sister a new one when you grabbed his arm.

His head span round to face you and you mentally made a note to remember how good he looked with his jaw tensed, “Theres’s back story, I’ll explain later,” you said before turning to Sansa, “It’s not what you think,”

“You were kissing my brother!”

You sighed, “Okay it’s kind of what you think,” you said as you walked closer, “but not as bad as you think,”

“Oh?” she paused before her eyes widened, “Oh! Ew!” she grimaced. “That’s so weird. I thought you hated him,”

“I did but,” you paused, looking at Robb who smile down at you. you reached for his hand which he gladly accepted, squeezing yours lightly, “it’s different now,”

Sansa gagged before turning to Robb, “if you hurt her. I will kill you,”

“Aren’t you supposed to say that to her? you’re my sister,” Robb said incredibly.

Sansa paused for a moment before realisation dawned on her, “Oh you’re going to be my sister one day!” she began to celebrate. You laughed at her as she jumped into your arms but made no effort to stop her, “Do our parents know?”

“Not yet,” you said as you pulled back from her grip. “Let us tell them know,”

Robb nodded as he pulled you over to his side, draping an arm around your shoulder, “Yeah. I get to brag about her first, not you,”

“No fair,” Sansa pouted but Robb ignored her as he looked down at you with a dopey smile.

“Can’t wait to tell everyone you’re mine,” he said softly, leaning back down for another kiss which you gladly accepted.

“Oh, gods I can’t,” Sansa shivered as she quickly left however you just laughed before turning back to Robb.

Your arms found their way back to his shoulders as his found the small of your back, “Now where were we?” you asked.

Robb smiled, leaning down slowly, “Somewhere around here,” he whispered before his lips fell back onto yours. how could you hate him now?

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @valeskafics @asgards-princess-of-mischief

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rax-writes · 1 year

Text

↬ the morning after

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Notes: Reader is a Stark but no physical description is mentioned. Based on an idea that came to me, as a result of the Tywin brainrot I've been experiencing.

The suggestion of your marriage to Tywin Lannister had come as quite a shock to the entire Stark family.

Lord Eddard had sputtered out a weak argument, too stunned to form a compelling rebuttal on the spot, but King Robert had waved his hand and said, "Look, I know he's old, but he needs more heirs. Jamie swore an oath, and he won't let Casterly Rock go to Tyrion. There's two dozen lords who are either closer to her in age, or more good-looking, but politically, is there any better option for your daughter than Tywin fucking Lannister? He's Warden of the West, Lord of Casterly Rock, and the richest man in the Seven Kingdoms. She’d be wealthy, protected, and living in the Keep with you and your other daughters."

King Robert had then assured you that you were allowed to reject the proposal if you wished. However, he was not wrong about it being a good match, so you consented to the union. You heard whispers of Tywin being furious with the King for suggesting he take a second wife, but once again, no one could deny that the King was right – Tywin needed more heirs.

So, given your stipulation that you marry in the Godswood, in addition to a small ceremony in the Sept of Baelor, you found yourself wedded to the infamous Tywin Lannister within a few days.

It scared the shit out of you.

And your family.

Even more so when you did not join everyone for breakfast the morning after your wedding.

Tywin had refused a bedding ceremony, so no one had a clue what went on after you and your new lord husband left the feast. But seeing Tywin approach the breakfast table alone the next morning sent a chill down the spines of Lord Eddard, Jon, Robb, and even Theon.

Discreetly, Ned grabbed Robb by the upper arm before the boy could leave the table, and told him to go check on you. Robb nodded, having been planning to anyway, and found that he was quickly followed by Jon and Theon – the latter disguising his worry as a curiosity to know whether "the old fuck could still get it up or not."

All three of the young men braced themselves for a gruesome, heart-wrenching sight as they opened the door to Tywin's chambers after you granted them entry – only to find you sitting cross-legged on the bed, smiling at them.

"Good morning, boys."

"Um… good morning," Robb said hesitantly, confused but pleasantly surprised at the state of you.

"I suspected some concern over my absence at breakfast, but I didn't anticipate a search party," you jested, laughing lightly.

Both Robb and Jon merely stared at you, taking in the sight of your messy hair and the three round, rosy bruises on your neck and collarbone, mentally assessing you for any cause for concern. Ultimately, they found nothing, but feared that you were merely putting on a brave face for them.

"Alright, let's cut the shit," Theon announced, shoving past his companions and leaning against the bedpost, arms crossed and grinning at you. "How was it? Did he force himself on you? Can the old man still get it up? Did he have a nap halfway through the act?"

The way he tried to cover up his worried questioning with jokes did not go unnoticed, but you chose to not comment on it.

"It was, uh…. Well, it was fine, let's leave it at that," you replied with a small chuckle, trying to ignore the fact that your face grew red.

"Absolutely fucking not," Theon protested, looking even more intrigued now. "You didn't even answer a single one of my questions. I'll die of curiosity if I don't get some details."

"Look, we don't need… details. We just want to make sure he didn't force himself on you, and that you're alright," Robb explained, and Jon nodded.

"He did not force himself on me. He was a gentleman about it," you assured your brothers. They both breathed sighs of relief, and their shoulders visibly relaxed.

However, before they could relax fully, you turned to Theon and briskly whispered, "I came four times."

"You what?" Jon shrieked, eyes wide and mouth agape, as Robb let out an exaggerated gag beside him. Theon doubled over in a fit of laughter, having to hold the bedpost to keep himself upright.

"You've got to be fucking joking," Theon managed to wheeze, still laughing.

"Definitely not. Now, all of you run along so I can get dressed," you said, standing to shoo your retching brothers and hysterical friend out of the room, closing the door behind them with a laugh.

sequel ↠ when night falls

#super brief and not really tywin-focused #but i wrote it so i figured i may as well post it lol #tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #game of thrones #got #tywin lannister fan fiction #tywin lannister fanfiction #tywin lannister fic #tywin lannister fanfic #tywin lannister fan fic #tywin lannister x stark!reader #my writing

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multific · 2 years

Text

König with a Pregnant Wife Headcanons

König x Fem!Reader

You used to be in the army

But after you and König got married you retired and looked for a new job

Both of you prefered it like this

Since your plan was to have a family rather quickly

You longed to have children and who was he to deny that from you

And he also wanted a daughter

So, you quit and started working for a big corporation

You managed to get pregnant rather quickly

And what a joy it was

König was on a mission when you got the results

And of course you waited until he would be back to tell him the news, over the phone it wouldn’t have been the same

You let him know by giving him a #1 Best Dad mug

„Darling... are you sure this is the one you meant to buy?” he asked with confusion written on his face

„Of course, you are the best dad in the world after all or will be.”

„Sweetheart, is this about that Daddy kink again? I told you it was in the heat of the moment you don’t have to call me-„

„No, silly. This was my attempt to let you know that I am pregnant.”

He froze.

Once he finally collected his thoughts

He started running around, yelling something in German you couldn’t understand

Oh yeah, he was happy alright

Extremely happy in fact

He nearly knocked you over when he ran towards you

He would not go on any missions

He wants to be there every step of the way

And once both of you went to the doctor’s and he got the confirmation he needed, things in him changed

Protective husband mode: ON

Overprotective husband mode: ON

Protecting you from every leaf and bug

If you are pregnant during winter:

He would absolutely not let you outside without being warmly dressed

Even if you tell him you are not cold, he would put another sweatshirt on you or a hat or gloves

He is basically a human heater so even if you are cold you two can just cuddle and he would warm you up instantly

Expect hot drinks even if you don’t ask for them

All the new Christmas drinks from every possible store

Expect him to try out all of the drinks you get

He would say “To make sure it’s not poisoned”

But you’d know he just wants to try them out

Would 200% build snowmen, One to represent him, one to represent you and a very small one for the baby

If you are pregnant during summer:

He would ask you if you are not too hot, if you need a cold drink

He would ask but he would also provide a cold beverage at all times

He wouldn’t let you out of the house

If you don’t already have an AC, prepare that he would get some into the main room and the bedroom

Although that one is mainly for you, he also really likes to have the AC on

Would make you go to the beach and would fully eye your changing body

Would hold you close in the water

And he would joke around that you are basically a human submarine

You can have the strangest cravings, he would always give you exactly what you ask for

Even if its in the middle of the night

Would also totally get something to eat while he is out

And of course you’d end up stealing what he got

If you are emotional he would know it is the fact that you are carrying a child not that you want to be mean to him

He would be extremely touchy

Would have to have you close at all times

Speaking to the baby while rubbing your belly

He would often speak in German

You knew that he has a soft spot but seeing him like this, an attentive papa bear, it did something to you

Your hormones were over the roof

You stared at him, made him walk around the house shirtless

And then in the next second you didn’t even want to see his face

“I told you to leave me alone!”

“B-But, Liebling…”

You could throw anything at him, he wouldn’t mind

He knows how difficult this is for you

So, he tries to be the best husband

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter @stunkbiggu

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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perkqularkreashions · 11 months

Text

UNCONDITIONAL | SANDOR X READER

Part 2: Take the Black

Sandor X Reader

Mature Content Warning

Requested: YES

Requested: OPEN

WARNINGS: Please check your triggers; SMUT!!! (Always use protection) Mentions of Miscarriages, Homemade Abortions, and Slight mentions of depression. Word Count: 7k plus Slight Proofread :(

You gasped, taking his head in your hands. Pushing him further into your pussy, your hips slowly grinding against his flattened tongue and the bridge of his nose, which flicked against your aching clit. You mouthed oh’ed as you felt the euphoria blissfully wash over you, your heads, grabbing at the grass, digging your nails into the dirt as you quickly closed your legs. Pushing him away from you, you pleaded with him to stop as you felt overstimulated from his still kissing and softly licking at your clit. You moaned out in desperation, “Theon, please stop.” with weakened strength, you pushed him off you, yanking your body closer to yourself, as you moved to your bottom. Your eyes washed over the glistening boy as a smirk played on his lips.

“I can’t help myself,” he moans lowly, moving on all fours before crawling closer to you, his eyes taking you in from the disheveled state of your hair as it was muddled with leaves, twigs, and bits of grass. From your redding face, your cheeks warm and full of color, your eyes wide and sporadic. Your mouth opened slightly, as you tried to suck in as much air as possible. His finger crawled on top of your hands, waiting to feel your warmth, and despite the crisp coldness of the air, you radiated furnacing warmth. Theon enjoyed these little moments with you, holding you in his arms, letting his hands run down your breast and throbbing pussy. Kissing you on your neck as you moaned out for him. He craved you, simply intoxicating. You spoke again, this time more certain of yourself, “Father will be looking for you soon; I know you have a ceremony to attend.”

Finally, you started to notice how close Theon was and how the condensation of your breath mingled with the stillness of the cold air. You closed your eyes, sucking in the harsh atmosphere, and you felt his lips peck on yours. Something that he didn’t do often, you quickly cuffed his face, preventing him from turning away from you. Icy fingers caressed his skin for a moment; you dropped your gaze, removing your hand from his face. “Go,” you spoke in the stillness of the air, moving to feet and gathering your gloves.

It didn’t take long to voyage back to the Winterfell, your eyes taking hold of Jon and Bran, his hair falling against his pale skin. Nervously, he petted at his pony, tugging on his lips as his eyes flickered to Jon, taking hold of every word that came tumbling out of his mouth, yet he still didn’t remember much of what was said. Jon's grey eyes finally captured hold of you as he waved you over, his smile rising on his lips. His dark hair, moving in the chilled wind, he was taller than he was before. Excitedly, you waved to him. He often enjoyed speaking with you; you were kinder than your twin brother, Robb, Theon, and Caitlyn, who put up with him out of respect for Ned. Robb barely talked to him. The conversation only culminated when needed; for Theon he wishes to avoid him at any cost. He thought everything was funny, and it always came off as insensitive and crude. The Stark girls offered him the kindness and a love he craved, but you were different. When thinking of family and thinking of love, he saw you.

Jon’s first core memory of you was when he was 11; you were skin and bones then. Your eyes were as dark as iron as you protectively stood before Jon. You bore no front teeth, yet your words were certain and robust. Caitlyn was scolding him for something trivial. She was harsh to Jon, her finger jamming into his shoulder before waving back in front of his face. It was the only time that you have seen Caitlyn interact with Jon when she was lashing out for punishments or projecting anger to Jon. You grabbed Jon’s hand, stomping past Caitlyn, offering him a toothless smile. “Don’t worry, Jon, I’ll always protect you!”

He drifted back to you, watching you make your way down to them. You smiled upon arrival, pressing your cheek against Bran; he cringed away, swatting at you with embarrassment and giggles. You returned to Jon, bringing him in for a tight hug, taking the smell of his natural aroma; he always smelled of pine and the outdoors. “Are you ready?” you asked in curiosity. You always wanted to go, but Ned forbade it, scolding you for wanting to partake in such boyish pastimes. His fingers danced to Sansa, explaining that you needed to mirror her likeness. Gentle and soft, like her mother. You glanced at Sansa with a faint smile, taking in her stern Tully features. The auburn color of her hair is lighter than our mother’s, paired with high-cheek bones and deep oceanic eyes. She was soft-smelling. You glanced back at your father, his hands cuffing your cheeks, mushing them together before chuckling. In sadness, he spoke, “You remind me so much of her.”

Your thoughts were interrupted by Theon; you hadn’t realized you drifted off. You straighten your posture as he moves behind you. You never realized how lean and tall he was.

“I best be going.” You finally uttered a soft farewell to Bran, taking hold of him once more before passing one to Jon. You could see Theon’s gaze on you; you passed a glance over your shoulder, seeing the dark expression on his face. Quickly, you turn around, returning to your attention ahead of you.

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed; you heard their voices first—muddled with each other, arguing over silly names. Bran's voice you heard first, dismissing the statements as he entered the kitchen. Sansa, Arya, and yourself had turned to meet them, eyes wide with wonder and exhilaration, watching Robb, Bran, Jon, and Theon bring pups into the kitchen. Your eyes snapped to the albino pup, nuzzled in Jon’s arms. With a smile, you gently ran your fingers through his ghostly white fur, his wet nose sniffing at your fingers as he yelped out a yawn.

“Where on earth did you find these Direwolfs? They do not travel this far up North,” You finally announced. Theon moved to you, a singular wolf in his arms, the color of a flaxen silver color, almost white blonde color. You gently ran your fingers through his dirty fur; you plunked out the crumbled soil, blood, and leaves. Slowly, your eyes moved to Theon, whose fingers had danced along yours, aiding you in removing the dirt and leaves. Jon hummed in dismay as Theon gawked over you, his teeth gritted in irritation. The color on your cheeks rose as you mumbled soft phrases to the pup in his arms. Unamused, he finally turned his full attention to the pair. He watched Theon brush his hand against yours, mumbling something that briefly caused you to look away. Jon’s eyes flickered to Robb, who seemed to have an unamused expression laced on his face. They knew Theon’s admiration for you has grown, significantly since you have grown into womanhood.

Intensely, he voiced, “You seem to have taken a liking to Direwolfs now, huh, Greyjoy.” Theon laughed loudly, and his chest shook as he threw his head back. His eyes fell on the bastard. Rolling his eyes, he watched him. Theon grew tired of Jon; he always felt that he wanted to fuck want belonged to him. You weren’t really blood anyway; what was stopping him from fucking you. He always finds his way into sacred moments, checking in on you before bed. You always calmed him, explaining that he was your brother, born from the same blood. Theon would scoff, shifting away from you in your bed. His back was facing you as he decided it was time to depart, leaving you alone.

Your eyes flickered between the two, along with everyone else. “Jon…” you hissed in frustration; his eyes glanced at you just briefly to catch the expression drawn on your face. Nothing else needed to be said; he could read everything about you; you were his best friend…his sister. The way your mouth twitched when you wanted him to shut up, your eyebrows would raise when you were confused or curious, and your eyes deadlocked on him when you grew angry with him. Jon mumbles an apology before turning his attention back to his albino pup. You couldn’t help but notice the similarities in your pups, their vermilion-brown eyes, and their fur color similarities. You huffed, taking hold of the trembling pup, the chilliness of his fur burning your skin as you cooed gently at the monster.

“Jon’s right; Theon seems quite interested in many new things lately,” Robb spoke out, eyes still trained on his wolf. Your cheeks burned as you continued to pike through the debris riddled through your pup’s coat.

***

In preparation for the King, your handmaidens tug at your hair. You grimaced, swatting them away, cursing them for their roughness and prudence. They were appointed by your mother, Caitlynn, whom you were not so fond of at the moment; in a slight urge of deviance, you snatched your head away from them. Your eyes burn into her, your lips tight as you hissed them out. Hesitant, the older crow had stepped in front, her eyes pale brown, her skin riddled with wrinkles and crevices. She opened her mouth and tried to find the right words to say, but much to her expectation, she did not. “Lady-”

“You are dismissed! Bring in the lanky girl; I love her hair! She has a head full of dark curls, maiden of Sansa; she’s gentle and easier to withstand on the eyes!” Your voice was strong, commanding the room just as your father’s. You stood tall, watching the woman cower in obedience, and with a nod, they rushed out. You wiggled out the attire, a dull and lifeless color your mother had decided was appropriate for the King. You knew she wasn’t too fond of him nor the Lannisters. Hundreds would soon gather in Winterfell and make it their home, muddling our paths and haven with their people. The door's opening captures your attention; the girl slowly walks in, her eyes filled with fear as she watches your nude form shyly.

She bows, longer than needed. “M’lady,” her drawl was different from the rest; she didn’t speak properly, nor did she try. She was burdened with discoloration and freckles, her arms extended and irregular at her side. Her teeth were askew and stained a yellowish color. Yet, there was something pure about her; she screamed, her body jolting to the door, as Luan slowly shifted to her, his nose hung low and his eyes stalking her. Your eyes shifted to the Direwolf, who lurked in the shadows. “Luan,” you hissed out. You turned my attention to her, slightly laughing as you waved my hand towards Luan.

“He’s harmless, tries to act Ghost, and slightly like Greywind.” You laughed, moving to the girl as you grabbed her hand; she stumbled behind you, and a soft smile played on her lips. You plopped down, hair flying about as you looked up at her. You began to speak, slow and calculated, “Please, may you do my hair. The wolf is no harm to you.” the maiden’s eyes widened at your request, her cheeks dusting slightly pink.

The maiden picked at her hair; insecurities flushed through her stomach as she tugged on the deep skin of her bottom lip. She was never complimented before by boys in her village and certainly not by the men or women in Winterfell. Her mother always complained of boyish looks, the irregularity of her nose and the harshness of her skin, the scabs, sunburn, and the bug bites that did not go away. Her hair was always hanging on her shoulders and in wild curls, which she tamed with a mixture her grandmother taught her. Her eyes returned to the Eldest Stark girl; she nodded excitedly.

A small, drawn on your face, “Then it is settled, you shall be my new lady in wait! I grow tired of the old hags my mother tries to force on me.” Your voice boomed as you stood up, your hands clasping her shoulders, tugging at her. Her cheeks burned as she watched the pup and the surroundings of her chambers, hands glued to her side as you were still nude. Time had slowly passed, her hand taking each strand and coating it with a strange concoction she brought into the room; it smelled sweet, and a soft aroma of honeydew filled the air. Staring at your reflection in the copper mirror, you finally felt beautiful; your hair framed the fullness of your face, contrasting against your grey eyes. You often were referred to as Jon’s twin despite being Robb’s; Caitlyn curses quietly to herself as she watches you and the bastard play. She would believe you were Jon's sibling if she hadn’t birthed and watched you milk her teat. Your grey eyes, which people often confuse with a dark obsidian, were that of Father’s and Jon’s. Your dark hairs framed your faces. Jon’s face was strong like Ned’s, while your look was subtle and kind. Yet, as she watched you two grow together, she saw no trace of Tully in you.

You arrived slightly late to the arrival of the King and Queen; you squeezed beside Robb and Sansa, out of breath and irritated from the festivities already. Robb stood tall next to Father and still mirrored Mother, his crystal blue eyes washing over the gathering visitors before landing on you; he was stocky. His hair was a soft auburn color, much like his mother’s. He smirked momentarily, his body leaning closer as he pushed his words against the winter’s air, “Mother is going to have your head.” Your eyes flickered to the visitors flooding through the gate’s castle, drawing us in their sparkling gold, illuminating silvers, and polished steel. Their banners and knight galloped on their steads, heads held high as they looked down on us.

Ser Jamie was the first to stand out, his blonde locks falling against his shoulder, bouncing occasionally. Father would often refer to it as “beaten gold.” Despite being on his stead, you could see that he towered over everyone, his cat-green eyes scanning through the ground, laying hold on Winterfell in disdain. Shifting through the knights, your eyes fell on a huskily built man, his nose long and hooked. His long, ravenous hair covered his scar that took hold of half of his face, his flesh black and pocketed with craters colored a deep red. You noticed that much of his face was gone; he had a stump for where his ear was meant to be and a protrusion of his jawbone. You saw the scars running down to his throat.

“Ah, Ned, seeing your frozen face again is great!” Robert proclaimed, his voice beating through the silence, echoing from the walls and settling in the nothingness. He grabbed him by the face, laughing intensely as he looked at Caitlyn, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Robert stopped when approaching you, his face sunken as he glanced at you; you examined him, taking in the redness of his face and nose and the darkness under his eyes. You recalled the tales your Father told you in your youth, the ones of a handsomely Robert Baratheon, “a handmaiden’s fantasy”; you would giggle feverishly at the thought. Now, beholding him, his thick black hair falling against his burly shoulders, you now see that it was all just a fantasy. If you were to ever ponder deeply on what a King would look like, Robert Baratheon fit the criteria.

Robert's heart burned in his chest, and his fingers danced with anxiety as he closed his hands. He reframed from reaching out to you, grasping your hair and chin, and wanting to kiss your lips gently– wanting you. He hadn’t seen you in ages, and you were but a child when he did. Lanky with a boyish smile much like Ned, and now you were wildly beautiful, much like Lyanna in her youth. The fullness of your lips, the cheekiness in your smile. He fondly grabbed your hand, nodding gently as he pressed a subtle kiss against the clothed glove. He spoke with a gentleness Ned hadn’t heard in years, “You remind me so much of her, Lyanna; you’re growing to be such a beautiful young lady.” Once completing his introduction to all the Stark children, Robert inquired about her grave sight, eyes flickering to Ned, wasting no more time on other formalities. His heart yearned for her touch and yearned for her kiss. He needed to see her, and Ned admired that of his old friend.

***

You found yourself isolated with Luan, and his head nuzzled against your leg, your eyes watching the river flow and the grass dance in the chilled wind that kissed over Winterfell. Night soon fell upon Winterfell, and your mother would soon search for you. To scold you for arriving late to the arrival of the King and Queen and for having my hair in such a wildling state. You wanted her to cool down as much as possible, praying to the old Gods and the new that she would only give you a chastising look. Without moving your head, your eyes cut to the left as you heard the soft rustle of the overgrowth and crunch of leaves. Luan’s ears perked, his eyes shifting about. You thought it’d be Theon, and he always finds you no matter where you hid. He stalked you, slowly walking behind you, towering over you. But the footsteps were heavier; the sound of steel filled your ears. Finally, you found your voice, lowly you said, “Whose there?”

His voice was firm as he spoke, “You should be out here alone, M’lady.” You didn’t turn to face him right away; your heart slammed against your chest as you tried to recognize the voice. You looked over your shoulder and saw the scarred soldier, his face tight with irritation as he moved through the brush. You offered a meek smile, taking his appearance in more. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he began to speak, “It’s not safe,” was all he managed to voice out.

You chuckled, returning your attention to the rushing water; the puddles formed as the fish rushed to the surface, causing ripples to spread until they touched land. You could feel him; his presence was looming and dark, and his eyes ran across your body, wondering how a petite girl could survive the harsh weather. Once again, you peeked at the unfamiliar knight, “Sit.” It sounded more like a question than a command. You waited for a moment, and he didn’t move from his spot. Sighing, you lay back against the icy grass, letting the sun slightly warm you. “My name is-”

“I know your name,” The knight roughly hisses; he watched you in curiosity, taking in the fullness of your lips, the way your hair fell wildly around the fur that covered your shoulders. Your laugh kisses the air; he never a simple sound could hold much beauty.

“Well, Ser, you have me at a disadvantage,” he watched how your mouth moved when you spoke; he watched you lick your lips, your tongue quickly out to coat your bottom lip. He suddenly felt nervous, an odd trait; his fingers tingled as he clenched them against his side. He was self-conscious, and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, you would surely be in disgust, like every woman does, like the whores do, just like everyone does.

“The Hound,” he finally pronounces; your eyes open slowly, body twisting to stand up, Luan following in her footsteps. You look at him with a softness he has yet to experience. Finally, a smile captures your lips, filling up your entire face.

“Sandor Clegane, my father has taught me some things.” He watched you, not understanding your disposition; he was a monster and has always been treated as such. Now, this girl is treating him as if they are equals. “Come, why don’t you walk me back to Winterfell? We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” You spoke through your boisterous laugh that shocked Sandor; it was solid and full of life. His mouth twitched into a smile as he followed behind you. You talk about simple things, nothing that holds any particular interest to Sandor. Still, he listens, soaking in your words, the way you speak so furiously when passionate about something, the pauses in your speech to ensure that he wasn’t growing tired of your rambles. Every time you looked back to catch his eyes, they were focused on you. All you did was smile in contentment, turning back to the path. Silence soon fell over you both; it was tense, yet it was calm; the only sound that could be heard was your footsteps crunching on the earth and the sound of his sword slightly clanging against his armor.

“Tell me about yourself,” Sandor pauses, halting in his footsteps, noticing you stopped before him. Your head is slightly positioned up to look up at him. You noticed that he was extremely tall, possibly taller than Ser Jamie but definitely taller than Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark.

His voice was harsh and raspy when he spoke, “Let’s get you back to Winterfell, Little Wolf.” You let out a laugh, pressing your hand against his armor to prevent him from moving forward. Sandor quickly grabbed your wrist; you winced at his aggressiveness, slightly tugging away from him. Sandor loosened his hold on you but still held your hand against his chest. He repeated his statement, his hand letting go of her wrist as you nodded slowly. You watched him before turning around and returning to your trek back to Winterfell.

You arrived a few moments later, thanking him for his company. You bid him farewell before parting to your chambers.

Caitlyn's voice oozed with frustration; she thudded through the halls, grabbing your upper arm. “Where were you? Are you okay?” her face churning into one of concern; you nodded gently, tugging your arm away from her. She swallowed thickly. You noticed her eyes were a deep red, her face drained of color. Something was wrong. You could see the anxiety moving through her, her hand's shakiness and her lips tremble. Luan whined at your side, brushing himself against your thigh. His whine increased as they churned into a soft growl.

“Mom?” you managed, “What happened?” She turned away from you, shutting her eyes as their tears flew down her collarbone. She choked back a sob.

“I told him to stop climbing, I told him-”

“Mom! Is it Bran? What the hell happened!” You screamed; you pushed passed her, rushing through the handmaidens, screaming out your brother’s name. You stumbled upon Jon and Robb; you frantically searched their eyes. You heard the howls of his unnamed pup, Luan, stir with anxiety as he began to howl. Jon stalked towards you. You shook your head, punching at his arms as they reached for you. “He’s dead? Is he dead!”

“No” was all Jon managed to let out, his eyes fluttering to Caitlyn as she watched him comfort you. She hated him. You hugged him, and you cried in his chest as your legs abruptly gave out. Robb rushed to your side, gently placing his hand on your back and whispering comforting words to you. “Let’s go see him,” your words were getting caught in your throat, burning as they tried rising to the surface. All you could do was nod at his command.

***

The crisp morning burned your lungs, and the unnamed Pup howled all night. You were irritated with him; you tried silencing him and even tried to pry him away from Bran, but he wouldn’t leave his side, rightfully so. Now, you walked through the Winterfell with Luan in search of quietness and stillness. You hissed in frustration as Luan rammed his head against your leg, his whines falling from him. He grew more irritable and anxious as the days passed. The constant whine of the unnamed pup sent him on edge. He sat, looking at you through his vermillion eyes. He huffed in disobedience before lying down in the middle of the street. “Luan,” you hissed, pushing at his body. He huffed once more, shutting his eyes and letting out soft yelps and whines. “Luan, get up!”

Outside, Tyrion stood, letting the cold morning air fill his lungs as he descended the library's stairs. Sandor Clegane’s voice, raspy in nature, kissed his ears –he spoke, “The boy is taking a long time to die. I wish he would be quicker about it.”

“At least he dies quietly,” the prince replied. “It’s the wolf that makes the noise. I could scarce sleep last night.”

“I could silence the creature if it pleased you,” he spoke; his eyes shifted to you, and he instantly regretted his words. He watched you move to your knees, hands tugging him to his feet as he fell limp against you. His squire placed a longsword in his hand, and he sliced through the morning air, testing the weight of it. He returned it to the boy, shaking his head gently. His eyes fell back to you, hearing you beg the pup to get up. “Luan, please stop acting like a brat!” Luan, that was his name, an odd name for a Pup. Luan bared his teeth at you, growling loudly as he captured everyone’s attention; it was a deep guttural sound. As he followed you, you rose to your feet in anger, his head tilted low. Yet, you stood firm, watching the pup testing his dominance against you.

“Luan!” you shouted. Sandor hated to admit the heaviness and authority in your voice sent chills down him, prickling at his skin; it was harsher than the frigid winds. Your voice reminded him of your father’s, stern and full of strength; it was so different from Sansa's and similar to Arya’s. Sandor watched you sigh, kneeling back down as you cuffed his cheeks. Joffrey flinched as his eyes turned to you; they all watched you in bewilderment.

“Winterfell is so infested with wolves, and the Starks would never miss one… maybe two.” Joffrey snorted as his gaze fell to his Imp Uncle, who was hopping off the last steps in the yard.

“The Starks can count past six. Unlike some princes I might name,” Joffrey scoffed as blush dusted across his cheeks, and he became irritated with the drabble of his Uncle. His eyes flickered to his dog, who seemed infatuated with the Stark girl. You watched the expression change in the dog’s face. He admitted that the Stark held more beauty than the younger one.

Joffrey let out a cackle, “Go speak to her!” his voice whined in a command; Sandor looked at him, face burning with frustration and embarrassment. “Go on, dog; maybe your presence might calm the mutt.” They watched as he approached you, nervously tapping his fingertips. You could feel his presence behind you, his long shadow casting over you and Luan. His presence was looming and heavy; you didn’t tear your graze away from Luan.

“Sandor, what a pleasure,” you finally spoke; you turned to look up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips as you moved to your feet. The rush of air sucked into his nose, and you smelt soft and warm. His head rolled toward Luan, his words failing him as he stood there aloof. “Everyone’s going through a rough time, even the Pups. Luan took it a bit harder. He enjoyed Bran's company. Probably more than Jon’s and Ghost.” You stop, looking away as the mention of his name sends a frenzy of emotions through you.

“Everything will be alright, Little Wolf,” he huffed as he felt you wrap your arms around him. His freezing armor pierced your skin to the touch, numbing you as you dug deeper into his rigidness. His hands gripped at your shoulders in shock, unable to do anything but hold them there. His eyes moved to her overgrown Pup; he stalked around them, his head brushing against the back of his leg affectionately. Pulling away, he noticed the red mark forming on her, her eyes swelling with emotions, and her lip trembled. His gloved finger brushed against her face in slight desperation and wonder; quickly, she grabbed his wrist, pulling it closer to her face, and soon his hand was cuffing her cold skin. She nuzzled into his touch as a dog would, tears soaking her skin and his glove.

Softly, you mumbled a thank you. Sandor was cold again, the air chilling around him as he watched you walk away with Luan. He forced the emotions down as he hissed to himself; he knew this was one of Joffrey’s games; a woman as delicate and beautiful as yourself would never want him. His teeth gritted as he turned back around, seeing that Joffrey held onto his cheeks and the tiny Lord scolded him. In a hurry, Joffrey rushed off, leaving Tyrion and himself for just a moment.

You headed to your chambers, allowing Luan to lay by Bran’s side with his unnamed Pup; you thought the gesture was sweet. Moving into your chambers, you began to undress, asking one of the maidens preparing your bed to get Lilly for you. They nodded, bowing before scurrying to fetch your Lady.

Confused, you slowly watched the tall figure move into your chambers. You began to recognize the presence of Sandor; he towered over every object that cluttered your chambers. You were expecting your handmaiden. Gasping, you pulled the robe tighter against your body as you watched him in surprise. “Sandor,” you breathlessly called out, “What are you doing in here?”

He shook his head, “You’re tricking me!” his voice bellowed; in a hurry, you rushed to him, shushing him gently. You noticed his attire was different, a dull red-colored tunic with a hound emblem stitched to his right breast. You could smell the stale wine; it radiated off him.

“I know not what you speak of; please keep your voice down. My mother and father would kill me if they saw a man in my chambers.” Your hand reached up their face, wanting to calm him. You gasped as you felt him yank at your arm. “Sandor, what is the matter?”

“Is this one of insipid Prince’s jokes? Or what, you mocking me girl?” his voice low as he brought his face closer to yours; you could feel the warmth of his skin, his breath flushed against his face. Hesitantly, you let your other hand move to his face; he flinched at your touch, never feeling a warmth like this. You parted lips softly, trying to find some words to say. Your thumb traced against his scarred face, feeling the grooves and imperfections. “Don’t,” his voice laced with desperation as he shut his eyes. Anger washed over him, as he continued to glare at you.

Your lips parted again, as you tried searching for the right words, but how could you even explain it? Explain your fast-growing feelings for him. “I–I” your voice shaking as Sandor brought his eyes to you. You gasped as you felt his lips clashing with yours, his hands wrapping around your lower back, tugging you closer to him and bringing you to the tips of your toes. You gasped as you felt, grabbing his hand, gripping your thighs, hoisting you up, letting your hands rest against your ass. You gasped, as he tugged at your bottom lip. You yelp as you feel yourself connect to the bed; he towers over you; lust fills his eyes as he tugs at your leg, pulling you closer to him. He climbs on top of you, his lips pressing against your neck and chest. You could see him fumbling with his trousers, as he pauses.

“Can I?” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze momentarily. In awe, you nodded, fumbling to remove your sleeping garment. Hastily, he grabs your breasts, allowing them to fill up in his hands before letting them go. You sucked in a deep breath as he flipped over, placing you on his stomach. His hand reaches your hips, forcing you to push your ass out, revealing your wet and dripping cunt. Rubbing his hand on his aching cock, he shoves it inside you without warning. Your hand clutches your blankets as you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut as you adjust to his size. He wiggled you slightly, letting your wetting spread through his cock. His hand grips your thighs as he begins to grind deeper inside you slowly, your body twisting in pleasure. You stifle a moan as you slap your hand against your lips. You struggled to breathe as he pounded himself inside you, the aggressive slaps filling the silence of the air. His free hand snakes around your waist, yanking you closer with each thrust into your tight pussy. Sandor groans in bliss, as he feels you clenching around his cock, the feeling of your hand clawing at his hands for some sort of release.

Your whole body at his disposal, twitching from euphoria as he continued to pound his cock into your pussy. Your face contorts in pleasure, as his fingers move to your clit. You feel the heat building up to your face, gasping; you moan silently, stuffing your face in the pillows that decorated your bed. Pathetically, you moaned out his name, “Sandor,” a shudder traveled down his spine at the sound of his name being released from your lips. He finally opened his eyes, taking hold of the perfect ass bouncing against his cock and how you tried to contain yourself from being too loud. He never had a whore moan his name, nor did he like hearing it. But, it was something about the neediness in your voice, The way your hands tangled in his. He didn’t mind all too much; he didn’t mind your index finger and thumb tried wrapping itself around the palm of his hand. He didn’t mind the soft coos of his name falling from your lips.

All mine, He thought.

Sandor snapped back from his thoughts as he felt a burning sensation rise in the pit of his stomach, his cock twitching as he felt himself becoming sloppy and desperate to cum. His breaths are heavy and shaky. His body twitches as he spills his seed into you, spewing against his cock and your pussy. He pulls you up, your back pressed against his chest as he continues to fuck you, his grunts filling your ear, as his hand travels to your nipple. Sandor didn’t want the bliss to end; he didn’t want to be outside you—outside this room. You lay your arms on him, feeling the heat radiating from his dewy skin. Your breast bounced harshly, slapping against each other as he mercilessly fucks you. Your pussy clenched against him, your head falling into the crock of his neck, as you moaned out his name once more. Desperately, trying to find more words. Your head moved to his face, gently stroking his cheek in admiration and passion. He shrugs you off, moving his head back to avoid your touch.

He felt himself climaxing; he couldn’t contain his moans, as they fell through the room's silence. He filled you up, jutting as he thrusted weakly into you. You fell to the bed, your arms weak as you pushed yourself to watch Sandor. He was fixing himself, avoiding your gaze. In a daze, you called out his name. He continued to dress himself, his back facing you. Now confused, you moved off your bed, stumbling towards and touching his back. He left the room; the cold air breezed against your naked body as you stood in the middle of the floor. You open to mouth to call his name, but nothing comes of it.

“M’lady!” Your handmaiden spoke, slamming the door as she wrapped you in your robe. “Everything alright?”

Still in a daze, you nod. The emotions were building in your throat as you choked them down. “You reek of sex, M’Lady… let’s clean you up before people notice!” Lilly whispers, her hand gently pressing against your back as she tugs you further into your chambers.

It has been months since you last felt his touch; you knew he was avoiding you. His eyes never met yours when you were trapped in some isolated corner in Winterfell. His voice was harsh when he spoke to you, and his eyes were dull and emotionless. You tried grabbing his hand, but he pulled it away, huffing in annoyance before moving around you. You couldn’t breathe, your eyes swelling with tears as you sucked in a slow breath. Theon noticed the sudden change in your behavior, how you curled away from his touch and avoided his kiss and sexual advances.

You watched as Lilly packed your chest. “It’s gonna be lovely! You’ll certainly find a suitor in Kings Landing!”

“I’m not searching for any suitors.” You responded shortly; she nodded, understanding that she might have upset you. Shaking your head, you mumbled out an apology. “I instead want to stay here with Bran, not travel with my father and sisters to watch my sister marry that little boy,” Lilly laughs, rolling her eyes at your stubbornness. You two had become close, and she would often teach the ways of the “wild,” as she would like to put it simply. The burning of herbs masked the smell of sex and other odors—the concoctions she made when you felt ill. Lilly first noticed when you became increasingly irate at the same things, screaming and fussing at her as the months passed. She would hurry and remove the sheet, swapping them with that of her own. She then noticed that you weren’t bleeding, the sheets stained with a slight pinkish hue but nothing deep enough to be considered. She undressed you one night, letting the smoke engulf you as you lazily let her. Your mind was gone, and your happiness drained. She knew you weren’t the same after your night with Sandor…much less any of the following nights with Theon.

Lilly bathed you, your head against the tub as she watched you. She knew; she sensed it. She scrubbed your leg, sighing as she pleaded you wouldn’t think less of her. “I can help you, M’Lady, but you must trust me.” You nodded, closing your eyes and opening yourself to her. You hissed as you felt her insert something into you. It was hard, and you felt as you clenched and adjusted yourself. Lilly let you lay there, unmoving in the bath, as she gently combed your hair. The following days, you gruesomely bleed.

Lilly whispers a response as she is brought back to reality. “Mm, maybe it’ll do’ya some good to get away from ‘ere”

It did not; you traveled with your sisters and father back to Kings Landing, the carriage jolting at any little divet in the road. Ayra’s head rested on your lap as she tried to lull herself to sleep for the majority of the voyage, but she always failed in her efforts. “We need to stop!” You finally shouted, your voice carrying throughout, your eyes shut in irritation. “I need to breathe; I am suffocated!” Ned laughed, his head waving to the coachman, signaling us to stop. Arya rose gently, her dark grey eyes watching you intently; she was always suspicious after confiding in Jon that you would cut off your and join the black. Jon laughed, tossing his hand against your shoulder, saying that you were too beautiful ever to be considered a man.

You tugged on the inside of your cheek. “I need a moment’s peace.” Hurriedly you removed yourself from the carriage, sucking in the fresh air- you coughed slightly. It was nothing like the frigid crisp air in the North; it burned at your throat and nose, leaving you numb. You moved deeper into the surrounding forest, stumbling over stumps and shallow holes. You pressed your head against a tree, shutting your eyes tightly. No matter how far you ventured, you could still feel the carriage walls surrounding you, beating closer and closer. You licked your dry lips, gasping as you felt a hand wrap around your shoulders. With wide eyes, you were now facing Sandor.

“What?” You grumbled out, snatching your body away from him and finally getting a good look at him after weeks. You wanted to hold him… no, slice his throat open and beat him until he lay bloody on the ground. He used you.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Rolling your eyes, you snatch your dress into your face, moving deeper into the forest, your exposed skin snatching on thorn-ridden branches. You could hear the branches cracking under his weight, and he called out your name low and needy. He hated seeing you upset, the way your round eyes scanned his face, searching for something. He was behind you in one stride, grabbing at your arm and tugging you against him. You kept your gaze ahead, watching the leaves swirl in the wind, the branches dancing briefly. It was eerily quiet, and you loved it. It was filled with silence and not with Sansa mentioning for the hundredth time her plans for the future, Arya not needlessly picking at your dress, and Father not snoring. It was peaceful. Sandor dipped his head down, taking in your scent, his lips nipped at your escaped next.

“Don’t,” you whispered, unmoving. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping to create some friction. Your breaths are uneven and heavy, your fingers twitching to hold his unto his. His other hand shifted slightly, fiddling with his armor. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before pulling away. “No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to fuck me when you’re feeling needy” Your back still faces him.

Sandor never knew the right words, so he didn’t speak much. “Mm,” The silence of the forest grew; it engulfed you and burned your ears. You spun around.

“Leave me. Tell my father I will return soon.” Your voice barely above a whisper, Sandor reached out for you, his hand wrapping around your upper arm, snatching you closer to him. You felt his lips against yours, and he kissed you harshly. Lips molded against each other as your arms snaked around his neck, pushing yourself closer. He ran his fingers over your waist as gently as he tried to be, dancing back to your ass.

Your lips unexpectedly separated with a smack, “If I wanted to be in some cunt, I would get some.” You stood there, flustered and confused. The words did not yet make sense to you as he watched him through a daze. He pulled away slowly, letting your hands fall against his armored chest before smacking to your side.

Getting to Kings Landing took a few more weeks; you were not excited about it. You hated how the people dressed and looked at you, gawking at the Starks. On the other hand, Sansa was rather excited; with wide eyes, she took hold of Kingslanding and marveled at the tall structures and beautiful castles. Arya stuck by your side, her hand wrapped around yours as you both moved through hesitantly. Your eyes caught hold of Sandor’s; quickly, you looked away, following the progression into the Red Keep. You felt a hand gently touch your back; you flinched casting your gaze to your left as you saw an older woman gazing at you. “Why don’t I show you to your chambers, Lady Stark,” Your eyes flickered to your father, who gave a quick nod of approval. You tugged on your bottom lip, praying that he would take him with you to indulge in his political affairs. Ned could see that you were hesitant, and he pressed a sympathetic smile on his lips. His rough hands fell against your shoulder, bringing you closer. You smell him; you inhale powerfully, taking in the familiarity. He smelled of the walls of Winterfell, the crisp and coolness of the North’s air.

“Go, I will check on you soon,” He spoke lowly, his thumb quickly brushed against your cheek before shooing you with one of the handmaidens.

Just like that, he was gone, leaving you alone.

#imagines #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #game of thrones x reader #sandor clegane imagines #theon greyjoy imagine #theon greyjoy x reader #smut #GOT smut #requested

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alleyskywalker · 5 months

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TrisTheon + "so much has changed but I'm the same, yes I'm the same!"

They were boys together on Pyke - Theon remembered that well, even when he hadn't seen Tris in years, even hanging in Stannis' tower, even though it was Symond who had been Theon's agemate back then. But he still remembered, and Tris did too apparently, from the way his eyes stole quick glances at Theon across the campfires and on the long treck through the snow and the woods. By the time they hit seawater, Theon wanted to shake him a little, to say, "But you remember what I was like before. Don't give me those eyes, Botley, I know you remember, and I'm not really that different now." It's foolish - because of course he is different, probably they both are, but it doesn't really feel like it when Tris smiles at him, too warm for the start of winter. Improbably, infuriatingly, with Tris beside him, he feels almost like he did before, before any of it. It's a feeling he likes.

[Send me a ship and a prompt and I will write a three sentence fic.]

#theon greyjoy #tristifer botley #tris x theon #tristheon #theon x tris #asked and answered #op #three sentence fics

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theonficexchange · 2 years

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💛LAST DAY TO SIGN UP🖤

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seveett · 1 year

Note

hey, (yuri again) something for theon pls, you wont stop texting me abt him so write smth abt him for the love of GOD.

(я чертовски ненавижу твою гейскую задницу)

DC:: yall this my friend don’t mind his ass hes a tad bit special 😭 but sorry for not posting.. cough.. writers block..😞

PAIRINGS:: Theon Greyjoy x Top Amab reader

𖤐 CWS:: Semi-public sex, exhibitionism, standing missionary, slight marking(?): mentions of bites, overstimulation.

Your hand was wrapped around his mouth, trying to quiet down his animalistic moans as you both heard sounds of others coming and going, some getting a little too close to the door. And that only turned Theon on even more, with the feeling of your dick smoothly going in and out of him he could feel another orgasm approaching.

His body shook with overstimulation, cum from his previous orgasms dripping down his abdomen, his hard cock slapping against his stomach. The thought of someone catching you two, someone seeing how he was getting fucked dumb, it sent shivers down his spine.

The sounds of someone getting closer and closer to the door of the closet you two were in could be heard, the shadow peeking through the bottom of it. They stood there as if they were going to open the door, which causing your hips to get slower and eventually stop, your eyes glued to the door.

This only Frustrated Theon, He tried to rock his hips back into yours, he let out a muffled whine into your palm, his legs tightened around your waist.

The doorknob twisted and it stayed like that for a moment before the person simply just decided the walk of, you let out a sigh of relief but Theon was still trying to move for more friction, his cock leaking pre-cum from the tip.

You turned back to face him, looking into each others eyes, his being filled with desperation. You started to move again, starting off slow before going back to the brutal pace your originally had.

Your cock hit his prostate spot on, repeatedly hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves, Theon’s eyes filled with tears as he went over the edge. His cock shot out a few spurts of cum, splattering across his lower stomach. You weren't all that far behind, cock aggressively twitching inside of his hole.

A few more jabs at his prostate and you were cumming inside him for the final time, filling him up nice and good. You two soon disconnected, cleaning Theon off and helping him pull and zip his pants back up as you did the same afterwards.

The sound of someone clearing their throat could be heard, it immediately caught both you and Theon’s attention. Both of your heads whipped around and your eyes were met with Robbs’s, standing in the doorway with an unimpressed look.

Well, this is definitely awkward.

#★🎧seveett #top male reader #dom male reader #bottom character #x male reader #theon greyjoy x reader #theon greyjoy x male reader #got x reader #got x male reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x male reader

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rise-my-angel · 1 year

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

7 - Shadow of a Fiery Stag

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 11.3k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, nighmares, blood and violence, discussions of warfare torture and executions, character death, smut, p in v, light bondage, slight dom/sub dynamics, references to unwanted and aggressive sexual advances, canon divergence

Notes: Based mostly off the show, but certain sub plots here are pulled right from the books instead. Previous chapter here, series masterlist here.

It was during a night like this when you had been at the opposite end of this kind of attack. The rain that night had been heavy and only grew heavier the longer you were out there. Most would have given up by that point, called out their surrender or simply made their way back home on their own. That was not you however, not that night. Your teeth were shattering and your clothes were so soaked through it would take days to dry but what kept you was blind, dumb, determination. Or stubbornness.

It was a sweltering air of summer in that year, unlike now where the heat was dying to what everyone knew would be a longer winter. Your back was pressed against a tree as your eyes peeled around you trying to see in the darkness. You appeared to be alone but you were no fool on that. There was a wolf somewhere in these woods. There had been two as they hunted you and that of the sea, but one your partner in crime was caught, and the first wolf had given up once the rain grew heavier.

It was a game, really. To the younger Starks, it would be fun and easy. Chase them and you around the clearing until they tired out or the sun begun to dim and Lady Catelyn would bring them all in. But between the four of you, three all around eighteen and you at sixteen, the game was much more competitive. If the runners could hide out until midnight, well honestly you hadn’t remembered what the winning bet was for. But it had boiled down to the two teenagers who hadn’t grown up in the wolfswood had to last until midnight without getting caught by the two wolves who knew it like the backs of their hand.

The rain started to fall when they caught Theon, both Starks all but charging him into the mud and once the rain grew harder? Robb tried to call it, but when you wouldn’t come out, considering it to be a ploy? Well it seemed Jon took that stubbornness of yours as a challenge.

Now it was nearing midnight and the rain hard as anything, you knew Jon was still searching for you, never trying to call out or coax you to him.

No you were the prey being stalked by a quiet, and stealthy wolf and you had the great feeling he was toying with you. Purposely letting you get close to winning before he striked. From here, if you ran as fast as you could, you just might make it to the small lake a bit ahead and then you knew how to get back to the castle easily from there.

Your eyes had narrowed, looking to the sides and in front but nothing was there. The tree was thick enough to hide you entirely so by the time he spotted you, you might have made enough of a head start. You had to risk it, and risk it you did.

Taking a deep breathe you begun to sprint in the direction of the lake, only to be grabbed almost instantly by two strong arms yanking your back into their chest. You could feel Jon’s smirk, he didn’t even have to say anything. He had snuck up on you, and hid on the other side of the very tree you were hiding behind, and you never heard a thing.

Struggling against the far stronger one, you huffed out with a laugh. “Alright, alright, you win, now let me go.”

Oh he was definitely smirking, you could hear it in his voice as he spoke lowly into your ear, only in this instance for some reason you picked up on the raspiness of it. A husk in his voice that had been there for a long time, but for some reason as it growled in your ear it made you still in his hold. “I think you’re forgetting who the wolf is here.”

If he noticed your sudden change in demeanour, he didn’t show it. Your voice a little more out of breathe for someone who hadn’t even broken into a spring yet. “Stags are bigger then wolves, Snow.”

His hold previously pinning your arms to your sides, moved gently to unravel as they rested against your upper arms. Him not having moved you away from him, nor backing up to give you space. Once again, the deep raspiness of his voice made your breathe hitch. “Stags are male. Besides, you’re too small to be one anyways, you’re more like a deer. You know what deer are to wolves, Baratheon?”

Jon’s tone putting a mocking emphasis on your own last name. Turning your head slightly, you could see his dark curls, quite long at that time and soaked as they brushed against the side of your cheek. If you looked any further, you may have caught his grey eyes, so dark at that moment they could’ve been black. Your voice was higher pitched, and it was obvious to both of you something in the air had changed but you didn’t have the words in your mind to pin why. “Prey?”

As he chuckled, you tried to take one last chance. Not really for the sake of this little game, but maybe beacuse your head was overwhelmed. Even over the rainfall, he was close enough you could smell him and it made you dizzy to find that you liked it. But Jon wasn’t one to give up, as you broke free of his hands, you only made it a few feet before he called your name.

Coming up behind, he grabbed and spun you to press your back against a tree as he stood in front of you, only when you looked up at him it wasn’t Jon.

Something tall enough you had to stretch your neck to see, and staring back down were two shockingly blue eyes that glowed against the darkness of the figure. A freezing wave casted around you like a fog and in the distance you heard the echoing cries of a baby.

Your memory having turned to something new, playing the events out right until it turned into a nightmare of cold you didn’t understand. It was that dream that you thought of as you sat atop your horse in the rain.

Only this time, the two wolves were on your side and you were the one doing the hunting. Ahead of you were a good number of Lannister men, lead by Stafford Lannister. An easy job, even as they outnumbered your six thousand men they were poorly trained and with even worse command. Men were beside you, on the front ready as you and the King in the North were, but he had one trick up his sleeve first.

You were staring ahead, but the small glance you took to the side as you waited out Grey Wind’s attack, you swore for a split second Robb’s eyes looked almost white. But then an aggressive growl rang out, and whatever you think you saw was once more his blue ones, dark and sharp in the night.

The watchmen ripped apart by the direwolf, and the men led forward by who some had begun calling The Young Wolf. The King in the North, Robb Stark, the Young Wolf ravaging the Lannisters throughout the south with his Queen, his Silent Stag at his side.

They had put up little fight, at least in respect to what you thus far had been used too. The dark and the rain had confused them, making all the worse by the orders given to those acting as archers just before. “Kill the men, not their horse. A dead horse is good cover in the dark.”

The light came quick and the victory came quicker. Still freshly painted with blood, you walked through the scattered remains on the field beside Maege Mormont, keeping track in your mind of the enemy survivors being counted for. “That’s what? At least five of them for one of ours?”

Nodding with narrowed as as you looked around, “So it seems.”

The large woman next to you seemed to have sensed the mood, “It takes getting used to, your grace.” You turned with a raised eyebrow in question as she nodded with her chin to the dead around you. “All this. Every fight it feels like it never gets better, but one day you’re standing on the winning side and your too focused on how many of you, ‘ya got left then focusing on how many you killed.”

She took a pause as she looked you over, the distant and stoic expression she had started to learn wasn’t that of a cold inside or uncaring. Just more of a shell that’s been long taught to cover you on the outside. “And if you ask me, the longer it takes to get used to it, it means you’re still human in the inside. Treasure it while you still have it, your grace.”

Both of your eyes followed a path in the distance to where Robb was having a similar chat with Roose Bolton, but you both could tell there was some disagreement being discussed. “Some lose it faster then others.”

Nodding with a slight grimace you turned to her, your hands resting on your hips as you both watched the pair for a few seconds. “You know, I can’t tell if I respect him or am terrified of him.”

An easy laugh left her that was more of a knowing “Ha” then anything. Maege took a step towards you leaning down closer to your level. “Bolton terrifies most. I can bet if it weren’t for the King, he would’ve been hanging and flaying open those Lannisters the second the fighting stopped.”

Jaw clenching you tore your eyes away from him, “As long as they have his sisters, he won’t risk doing anything that gives Joffery and Cersei any more reason to hurt them.”

Raising an eyebrow at you, “You think they’re hurting those girls?”

You could still see the look in Joffery’s eyes that day in the throne room. An unhinged look that only added up to all the separate times you’d seen him act out so egregiously. “That little psycho isn’t above dragging them into the throne room and having his sorry excuse of a Kingsgaurd beat them as much as he can get away with.”

It weighed on Robb a lot. Knowing that they suffered with each of his own victories, that in his campaign to free them and his people for good he has to sacrifice their well being. It was something you know Catelyn was struggling with. Trying to convince her son that they will give them her daughters for Jaime, but you know handing him over is too risky.

Information, details, secrets, and worst of all, you’d lose a hefty leverage over the Lannisters knowing that they would never grant the same in return. The North loses, people die, Robb surrenders in any way and they will drag you him into the public and end you both just as they did Ned Stark.

Continuing down, it was nice to have found a companion in Maege. She was large, brash, unafraid to speak her mind to just about anyone while keeping a good sense about her. You had asked if all Mormonts were as towering as her and Dacey, to which she gave a pretty good laugh. “Most of ‘em seem to be. All but my youngest, Lyanna she’s a tiny thing but hell if she makes up for it in that mouth of hers.”

You smirked, “Wonder where she could possibly get that from. You have all girls?”

Nodding there was a pride in her face, “Aye, and thank the gods for it. Men in this family were starting to drive us up the wall, now it’s at least a little more quiet.”

You had kept to yourself and only Robb that her nephew, Jorah was a spy working with the now single living Targaryean. He had already disgraced their house enough you didn’t think they needed one more slight added to their pile. It already was a stain that left them bitter, what he did. “My brother always said I was the short tempered one, but I’ve never met a man who could yell quite as loud as him.”

Noting the amount of your own dead, gathering names and families to write for as Olyvar had come to your side at the ready. Maege had glanced at you with an amused smirk, but you shook her off with a close to flat smile of your own. Robb had accepted him, but he hadn’t the patience for a squire that wasn’t quite use to knowing when to leave him alone.

So he had started coming to you, you having no qualms about sending him off on any task just to keep the boy busy. “Be sure to write to Lord Frey yourself about Ser Stevron. I’m sure he’d more appreciate hearing it from one of his own boys.”

“Right away, your grace.” Maege laughed as he took off and you found yourself chuckling alongside her quite freely. “He’s hard working, I’ll give him that but I have no idea how Walder Frey means to make a knight out of that boy.”

“The most aggressive I’ve ever seen him get is when one of the goats bashed him in the ass a few days ago. Think it made him drop his grace’s meal judging by how much he was trying to yell at the thing.” You smirked, that may explain how strangely apologetic he was one evening about being late, when in reality neither you nor Robb had noticed. There was plenty to go over keeping you from noticing the time.

Glancing her over you asked her, “How are you with livestock?”

Her eyes narrowed in question before shrugging. “I can carrel them better then that boy can, that’s for sure.”

Nodding you turned to face her properly. “Good, I want you and Dacey to take your men and start moving along the lines and capturing as much livestock as you can, start getting them into the riverlands so they can get a jump on some before they get too slim or the Lannisters pick them off first.”

An easy grin on her face, “And here I thought you were going to give me something hard, that’s not even a challenge. I’ll get them ready to go by afternoon.”

“Keep an eye out the closer you get. With us heading to Ashemark, then the Crag, Tywin’ll assume Stannis is going for the Stormlands meaning he’ll start heading west for us. Don’t be in his cross hairs when he does.” You glanced around again, “There’s too many men here even with you here.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You felt thankful she knew you well enough that she put her hand out. Yours clashing into hers with a steady force as she gave it a shake.

You held it there for a moment as you gave her a much more easy going look, “Don’t get killed, Mormont.”

“Nor you, your grace.”

Taking a moment to look over the field alone, you went over in your head trying to organize just who was where and expected by when. Starting to understand how your father always seemed to wrapped up in paperwork, you think you needed a tome full just to keep track of your own men. Greatjon Umber should be close to the Gold mines at Nunn’s Deep, while the Glovers and Karstarks had moved to start raiding along the coast.

“You seem troubled, your grace.”

Your palm having been running over your forehead, you rose up in surprise to find Roose Bolton approaching you. Shrugging you could spot Grey Wind in the distance behind him, suspiciously keeping you in his eyeline it seemed. He’d been keeping his eyes on you as much as he always did Robb now and you were finding the sight of the giant direwolf close to comforting in a way. Turning your attention back to Bolton, “Not troubled. Just struggling to find a way to keep track of things without feeling like my head’s going to explode.”

Chuckling, beside you, you always found him to be an odd man. He was someone with a commanding presence, full of a calm respect, and offered as much as he did listened well. And yet part of him spooked you to the core. “I’m afraid that feeling only gets worse with age. Finding a good outlet helps.”

Face remaining impassive, “And what kind of outlet does a man such as yourself engage in?” Quiet ran between both of you, the tension growing a tinge thicker as he looked as calm as you did, only a single flicker of his eyes betrayed his thoughts as he glanced to where you could distantly hear Robb speaking to a group of men. “He told you no, I am to guess?”

“He did. His grace dies not condone the use of torture, even now in times of war.” There wasn’t discontent in his tone or face, but certainly his words put you at a feeling of unease that was rather similar to what Robb had previously felt at such suggestions.

“You torture a person long enough, and they’ll tell you anything you want just to make it end. Even if it’s nothing but lies, and we’d be none the wiser.” You thought not of rumours of Dragonstone, and how all too much of it was vastly outrageous and some inhumane. It was easier to tell yourself none of it was true here as well.

Roose conceded, following as you both walked. “I must say I am surprised, your grace. I didn’t think a woman such as yourself would have been raised to believe in fighting war with kindness.”

The smell of blood and rotting death festered all around the field, it stuck in the air and would attach itself to you for as long as this war went on. “I don’t believe in that, my lord. Not at all. I think if you’re too kind then you risk letting any fear slip passed by those looking to take advantage of it. But this?” Passing in front of you, a small trio of Silent Sisters passed on, all with gloves drenched in blood and bodies to follow.

The two of you share a glance as you both waited, giving them space to work. “This isn’t kindness, though. And the King has no intention of showing them any.” He looked at you with a lighter expression, eyes a bit more open to your words. “If he was showing these men kindness, then Lord Tywin would have no reason to hide away in Harrenhal, would he?”

Roose tilted his head slightly at you, and in a moment of surprise, you recognized the same strange unspoken pride that you had seen from your own father. In earlier years, you had said when being taught the Great Houses of Westeros, you couldn’t imagine what growing up under “those kinds of people” would be like, when identifying the flag of a flayed open man of House Bolton.

But as you stood with the man now, you started to think maybe you already did. It just took your own father a bit longer to get to the cruelty of it all. Interrupting your thoughts he spoke, “And yet he sent Lady Catelyn to broker a truce with Renly Baratheon.”

He noticed how easily you smirked at such a comment, a sight so rare on the silent Queen. “Renly has had everything given to him by others, my lord. Robert gave him Storms End when he was only a child, he spent his days on the small council laughing and joking with Petyr Baelish instead of taking it seriously, and he has never been involved in anything more violent then getting knocked off his horse like a fool.” Arms crossed over your chest, you could see the men in the distance all looking to Robb with almost worship. “Renly has as many men as he does, because he thinks all a ruler needs to be is charming and his men will do the rest. I think sending her was the safer option, he isn’t really a leader who responds well to anything that might actually intimidate him.”

Was this how your father felt? A love for his brother turned sour as he was wronged more and more, and watched him get rewarded for it? The men of the Stormlands would have turned to Stannis most likely if not for Renly, and of Highgarden? You couldn’t be sure. The allegiance of the Tyrells seemed to be something that eluded you.

“It’s all just a game to Renly. And it won’t last forever.”

You had been sitting partially atop the table, your legs up with knees bent against the seat of a chair as you read and reread the contents of the raven. Robb watched you try not to break into a smirk as the returned Lord Karstark stood present. “And you are sure this was meant for-”

“Lord Damon of House Marbrand, your grace. No doubt about it. The details match what your scouts have reported.” He explained, turning to address the King himself. “A right fuck up, these southern men can’t even read, now.”

Robb much more freely joined in the amusement Lord Karstark had brought to you with a smirk. “Thank you, my lord. I’m sure the Lannisters would thank you as well for such a prompt delivery. If you would give us the room if you would.”

As the room fell quiet your face fell into your palm. “Everything I’ve heard about Ser Amory Lorch, and suddenly him not being able to read makes a whole lot more sense.”

Coming to your side, Robb leaned back against the table, grabbing the letter from you with a mix of amusement in his tone. “By the time Lord Tywin realizes it, we’ll have taken Ashemark already.” A raven had been sent to Lord Marlyn of House Dormand, keen eyes being able to tell the general direction which a raven has been sent from one of Karstark’s men recognized a flight path coming from the direction of where they knew Tywins forces had been pushed back too.

It wouldn’t have even passed them at all had it been sent to House Marbrand of Ashemark like the letter was addressed. Details of infantry movement telling both of Lannister forces pushing back out of Riverrun, garrisoned across the river, and of instructions to the very place your own forces were marching onto. “We started writing in code to avoid this.”

“We were also ten years old, and afraid of our parents finding out what pranks we wanted to play on our siblings.” His voice trailing off in fondness at the thought. It was after your first visit to Winterfell, Robb and yourself would get caught the most getting into trouble and by the time you were to return to Dragonstone, both of you came up with a way to plan out things without getting caught.

As you looked over at him, it was as if a wave of softness came over your heart. The gentle smile on his lips and the bright eyes that always spoke so much in them. It wasn’t fair, the only thing that finally brought you together so deeply being war. A war started for a father he still lost, and a family that was scattered across the rest of the realm and it all now weighed on his shoulders. Any loss, any mistake, any bad thing to happen all fell on him no matter what now and you knew there would be no way for anyone to understand what he’s truly given up to do this.

He knew it was his responsibility to protect his family, and he knows that there is no losing this war that doesn’t end with him ending up beside his father. Robb can’t just give everything up for his sisters and surrender, because he knows that his surrender won’t mean anything to the Lannisters. Not after what they’ve shown themselves to truly be. He had no choice anymore, this was his duty and he has to do it.

“We do not chose our destiny. We must do our duty, no? Great or small, we must do our duty.”

You could hear him even from here. His words ringing out in lesson after lesson, hammering it into your head until you could say it backwards in your sleep. It wasn’t your fathers choice to inherit a throne he was never meant to have, and it wasn’t Robb’s choice to lead his people who had spent generations being shoved away and forgotten by the very throne your father now sought after.

Robb gently calling your name brought you back to the present, standing tall over you once more with a narrowed look in his eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, and just as you felt the gentle brush of his hand on your waist you lifted a hand up to gently cup his jaw. Pulling his lips to yours as the rush of comforting warmth ran through your veins once more.

Almost too sweet and innocent of a kiss for where you both were, one that felt so much like the gentle kiss in front of the Weirwood. So many women in your life told you that your duty was simple, you were a highborn lady. You would marry a high lord, have his children, should you be so lucky have a quiet and simple life in his home. But you and Robb were nowhere near that.

Far from home surrounded by a war that depended on him and all you had brought from your side was a broken family who hates each other. Pulling back, he could see the trouble in your eyes but the sounds of someone entering broke the spell between you. You had at least, gotten more used to not feeling so flustered at Robb’s lack of care about showing such physical affection in front of his men.

Keeping his hand on your waist as you stood up and turned to face Brynden Tully, “Pardon the interruption, your grace.” Pausing he looked at you, even in his normally hardened expression you could see the apology for being the one to deliver it. “I thought you should hear it before the rest of the camp start squawking about it. Renly Baratheon is dead.”

Your heart both stopped and pounded at the same instance, a dizzy feeling flushing your mind as you slowly brought your palms down to brace against the table in front of you. You’re glad it was him who delivered it, a man who at least wouldn’t take any offence to the cold roughness in your tone. “How?”

As Catelyn entered the tent, you at least put together how he found out so fast. “Maybe we should speak in private.” Glancing at her uncle, you shook your head, nodding for him to come in.

“Stay.” Brynden didn’t question it, as he nodded to Robb still behind you, the hand on your waist wrapping more around your back as he came to stand more next to you. He understood that if he continued to find some semblance of solace in his mother you at least were starting to find an amusing kind of understanding with the older Tully.

Catelyn seemed to say something quiet to someone outside the tent before Brynden closed you all in as she looked to you, almost confused. Your name coming out in a cracked tone as she found the words trying to form. “I don’t know how to even describe this without sound like I lost my mind..”

Robbs hand around your waist tightened as he could see your knuckles turning white as you tensed your hands on the wooden surface. Your jaw set so much it looked like it would break. “Try, mother.” He was more quiet beside you, but in a serious tone.

Exasperated, she stepped closer to you on the other side. “We were speaking in his tent, when the wind picked up and...” Her voice trailed off as her head turned away, only to see yours snap up with a flash of something you knew she couldn’t quite read behind them. “This, black smoke seemed to just..fly in as it..” She found no doubt in your eyes, so she only looked to you. “It looked like it turned into a man, and stabbed Renly right through the chest before disappearing.”

“Cat-”

“I know how it sounds, Uncle. Trust me, I do. But it happened right in front of my eyes, there was no mistakening it. The woman I came back with, she saw it happen as well. One of his kingsgaurd, no doubt they’ll blame it on her but I promise you, that’s what I saw.” Your eyes had trailed down to focus on nothing in particular on the table.

Whispers in your head, images in your mind, and nightmares you’ve never spoken of all seemed to make this sound like the more rational thing. You could hear Robb and Brynden try to find reason with her that she was mistaken, when Catelyn once more said your name. “There is one more thing. The woman with me, she didn’t just see it. She claims she saw the...figure in the shape of the person who did it.”

The hesitancy in her voice, and you felt something constrict around you. Being at war with him was one thing, but this? No, there was no way. Your father would never stoop to something like this. Ned Stark’s words in the small council chambers that day sung in your ear, “You’ll dishonour yourself forever if you do this.”

The silence was stifling before you glanced to Brynden. “Do we know where his forces have moved too?” Walking over to where the plans had been laid out, he leaned over it as you came around to his side. Robb giving his mother a stern glance to drop it, to let him deal with this.

“If our scouts are correct, then most of them are headed to Stannis’s side. Except for the Tyrells, who we haven’t heard where they ran off too.” Your eyes fell onto Storm’s End, he wouldn’t risk going from there. The charge from Dragonstone to Kings Landing was right in his path and he knew those waters better then the Lannisters did.

Robb beside you came to the other side. “I know where they’ll go.” Looking up you could see him catching your eye. “You said that Renly had been trying to find a way to get Margaery Tyrell at Robert’s side, right?” Nodding slowly, you tried to clue in the dots he was, but you couldn’t push past the thought. “Robert dies, Renly declares himself King and Margaery his Queen. So where is the next best place they could think to go that’d give them that advantage?”

Catelyn was more unsure. “But if they already sided against the Lannisters once-”

Robb with no doubt in his tone, once more an easy shift to that of a real leader. “What do the Tyrells have that is more important to Tywin Lannister then gold or men?”

You bit your tongue as you tried to keep your breathe even as Brynden answered for you, “Food.”

As you exited the tent, you were met with a flash of a darkish gold shine leading up to a face you hadn’t seen before. Trying to place her but coming up short, “My Lady, I assume I’m correct in saying you must the one who came with Lady Catelyn?”

Her voice was calm, polite, and as formal as one could ever hope for. “I am, my lady. My name is Brienne of Tarth-”

Coming up beside you was Brynden, “Pardon me,” more stern then you had expected from him, but he moved right through her mid sentence regardless. “But this isn’t your lady, she is the King in the North’s wife. That is, she is our Queen.” A recognition painted in her eyes, and something must have clued in for her.

So this is the woman who thinks your father was behind this. Whatever was in her mind, she found it in her to push aside as she nodded to you. “My apologies. You have my sorry for the passing of King Renly, rest assured your uncle was well loved by all of his followers.”

“Followers that all ran to Stannis once he passed.” Onlookers had noticed tension between the three of you, but all but none would dare interrupt. “And it takes more then just calling yourself King to make you one.”

Something irked inside of the woman and you almost were just itching to have her let it out. In a stroke of likely good luck, rings of “Your grace” spoke up as Robb approached. Giving a nod to Brienne with nothing but a polite but firm look in his eye. “Pardon the interruption my lady,” Hard to see from where anyone was standing as Robb put a hand flat over your lower back with a slight pressure. “But the Queen and I have many things needing attending too. I’m sure you and my mother are tired from your travels. I’d ask you do well to make sure she settles in.”

Nodding, you could see her catching the eye of what likely was the woman in question behind Robb as she lost much of the tensity she spoke to with you. “Of course, your grace.”

As she begun walking off, you caught Catelyns eye whose gaze was full of a complex sympathy, not an easy position you’ve been put in in her mind. Robb having quietly sent his great uncle off with something he pushed you with him in the opposite direction. “If you’re going to scold me-”

Robb letting a small amused smile slide onto his face, “I wasn’t. I was going to say that we’ll talk about it in private later.” Sensing your muscles relaxing, he let go of you before moving up to stand in front of you closer. “I’m having Grey Wind stick to your side from now on.”

Your eyes narrowing in question he looked at you with a stern darker look in his eye not to argue about it right now. “I can’t ask you to-”

“I’m not asking.” His hand coming up to run over the side of your neck and jaw. “If I’m not with you, then I want him to be. And to answer your next question, yes this is an order.”

Something stirred underneath him that you could feel was worry, neither of you really had any reason not to believe her but without the time, energy or ability to question it further? You would have to accept for now that Robb would feel better if you weren’t left on your own without a watcher as trusted as himself or his own direwolf. Nodding, you ran your hand over the wrist closest to your face, sneaking under all the coverings to run your thumb across his pulse. Your voice for now, just that of a whisper. “Understood.”

You both nodded at the other, your eyes taking too long to look away as a protectiveness was clearly swimming in his, but was calm enough to not let it overtake. You both had things needing your attention, you would at least have to wait until tonight to give yourself a real chance to breathe.

Or not, in the ever growing day that provided nothing but issue. Only this time the offence was far more personal. And the anger felt in the room wasn’t just contained to fester on the inside of your heart, no Robb was a Stark and when that anger was felt it would wash over the camp like the sea.

The news came in from more then once place. Trusting in the man he’d known for over ten years, the person who oathed to stand by his side and had never shown an inkling he would do this. Theon had left in high spirits, and instead of giving Robb the news one answer or the other, Theon chose a third route. A brutal betrayal. From a man who swore himself to the King in the North, this was treason.

Greyjoys had landed in on the areas around the North, raiding and all the worse which comes with their warfare. Theon had led the Iron Islanders himself to the heart of Winterfell and had taken it for himself, taken it in the name of his father.

One King dies, and another took his place. Stamping out any alliance with the North that Robb had offered, an offer which respected their once rebellion to be independent again. Two kingdoms who had enough of the Souths choke hold on them, and yet when given the chance to work together Balon Greyjoy had instead sent his only living son to take the place he grew to be a man in.

You supposed, this must have been how those words felt, father. His daughter, a Queen to her husband the King in the North. You know knew what mocking words felt like. King Balon, and Prince Theon. You could take those words and wrap them around the decrepit old mans throat and leave him to choke and die in the sea he loved so much.

Robb sat with the words in his hand. His mother stood with a shock of her own of her own while you and Roose Bolton kept the only calm in the room as you stood next to where Robb sat, and Roose standing across from him. You were angry, and there was no question about it but Robb was angrier. “This cannot be true.”

Roose confirming what he had informed you of moments prior to bringing the news to the King, “We’ve had ravens from White Harbour, Barrowtown, and the Dreadfort. I’m afraid it is true.”

You could see it grow, if not even in his voice or eyes you could feel it in the air, the betrayal was more then an insult, it hurt. It truly hurt. “Why? Why would Theon..”

“Because the Greyjoys are treasonous whores.” Looking up to him, you tilted your head with a pointed look that with a flicker of his eyes you knew the man caught. Asking of Bran and Rickon, Roose confirmed only, “We’ve heard nothing of them. But Rodrick Cassel is dead.”

Your chest feeling a sinking weight in it like being dropped off a cliff, he had taken his home and murdered his men. Men he’d known his entire life. Robb was silent, but it was right at the edge and you knew there was no stopping it.

Catelyn with a waver in her voice, “I told you never to trust a Greyjoy.”

Your head rising up with a warning in your eyes, “Catelyn,” As quick as she realized the seriousness of your warning, Robb reached his limit on his own.

“I must ride North at once.”

Moving to step in front of him before he could reach the front you pushed him back, making him look at you. “Robb, we’re still at war-” Even from how many layers sat between your hands and his chest underneath you could feel his heart pounding and screaming at him as it rose up.

An almost furious desperation in his yell as he looked at you. “How can I call myself King if I can’t hold my own castle?” You felt him shake under as you kept him right there in front of you, knowing if no one stopped him, he’d take off right then and there. “How can I ask men to follow me if I can’t-”

Finding his eyes, you stood tall as your own voice was laced with it’s own anger, yet low enough to try and soothe that wolf clawing to come out. “You are King, and that means realizing that you cannot do everything yourself.” He wasn’t calm, and he felt no less in a need for bloodshed but Robb stood still and evened out his breathe as you looked at him with the calm he needed.

Catelyn stepped to you, “Let me go and talk to Theon.”

Both of you whipped your heads to her, “No.” The same look as you warned her with earlier, now in the sharpness of your tongue. “We won’t talk this out, he dies for this.” You felt in a tight grip that almost could be painful as he ran a thumb over your pulse, finding something relieving knowing that you were only as calm as for his sake. Your pulse ran fast, however.

The woman wasn’t made for war like this, not to this kind of violence. Never trust a Greyjoy she said, but even hearing from you that death is the only fate you saw fit left her a bit stunned.

Roose approached the pair of you, Robb not making any move from you. “Let me send word to my bastard at the Dreadfort. He can raise a few hundred men and retake Winterfell before the new moon.”

Glancing at you, it was hard to not soften at those eyes. Anger and hurt and it tore at you knowing there was nothing to take that back. You leaned up more, ensuring his eyes looked deep into your own. “We have the Lannisters on the run. If we turn around now, we lose everything.”

“My boy would be honoured to bring you Prince Theon’s head.”

Robb kept his hand on you, looking with a steady approval in his expression to Roose. “Tell your son Bran and Rickon’s safety is paramount. And Theon, I want him brought to me alive.” The question in the other man’s eyes melting out to an approval that for once, you both could stand on even ground over.

Robb’s voice almost rough enough to be a growl. “I want to look him in the eye and ask him why, and then I’ll take his head myself.”

The three of you stood in an approval, as he nodded. “I’ll send word at once.” He glanced to you, “Your grace, a word?”

For a moment it almost looked like he was split about you leaving him alone with his mother, the last thing Robb needed was to be told that something he had no way of knowing about, was this much of a mistake. But, it was your mistake too then. You both trusted him, and you both sent him off without the worry of betrayal. If it was on Robb it was on you.

Your eyes narrowed in question, but he just nodded. Not a day that left either of you without an exhausting rage. Stepping out into the night, you spotted Grey Wind sitting up in one direction and Roose in the other. Tilting your head to the direwolf, he seemed to be content to obey as he stood and followed close behind.

Eyeing the sight with a bemused curiosity he nodded to the wolf, “I see you’ve attracted the attention of more then one wolf, now.” You shrugged a shoulder as you glanced back with a fondness in your eye for him, apparently you did, didn’t you. What was the saying, two is coincidence and three is a pattern?

“I seem to have a knack for it.”

Chuckling, the pair of you begun walking through the camp. Looking to the men all around who deserved better then to have their King stabbed in the back by one they called their own. One that was raised by Ned Stark for more of his life then not. “I’ve underestimated you, your grace.” Raising an eyebrow to him, he gestured around the pair of you. “Every man here is a northerner, the first men blood runs strong in our own, and yet they all look to you like you’ve never been anything but one of them.”

“I may not have grown up there, but I’ve been in the Stark’s lives since I was eight. Lord Eddard treated me as well as his own daughters, and I’ve been friends with his eldest sons for as long as I’ve know them. Hell, I even married one of them.” Somberingly, you thought of Renly. How he would tell you that you were never suited for Kings Landing, that the only place that agreed with you was the North.

“You’ve even stood against your own father for them.” Roose seemed to sense the tightness in your throat at the subject but he pressed on. “Married or not, if it’s the Iron Throne Stannis wants, then it’s the throne he’ll fight for and I think most had dreaded that you would side with him.” You had a chance, you really did. But what had Ser Barristan told you? That your duty now was to your family?

“My place is beside my family, and the Starks were family long before I married the King. I suppose I should be grateful that more men aren’t looking at me waiting for my turn.”

What surprised you was the ease which he spoke next. “For a while, I was the only one.”

Heart picked up in speed as you paused in your step. Looking to him with a hesitant wide eyed look as he turned to face you. “Is that what you asked me out here for, my lord? To tell me Robb’s men don’t trust me?”

“Quite the opposite. You’re a hard woman to read, your grace. Everything I know of your father, I see very heavily in the way you carry yourself, and yet I see you in there like you’re the only one who can get through those Starks tempers.” You hadn’t really seen it that way. You just acted in the only way you knew, the only way you’ve ever been with Robb. Or any of them. Wolves can be temperamental, yet you’ve never once worried about that being directed at you.

Your own silence seemed to prove something of a point to him. “I’ve underestimated you for some time, and I’m happy to be proven wrong. I see quite a formidable foe in you, you just need room to let it out.” Looking at him with a more squinting look he stepped in closer, your eyes glancing to calm the slight growl from Grey Wind.

“What did you call me out here for?”

“My bastard has his own way of doing things. I could tell him to simply do only as he’s been told, or I could tell him to make the Greyjoy feel some of that pain the King he betrayed is feeling. And the Queen.” An impressed look on his face, truly something about him reminded you strangely of your father, finding things to be proud of that most would tell you to ease up with. “Sometimes, we must punish pain with pain. Leave our enemies with a bit of fear.”

You didn’t think you knew what he was trying to ask of you. Or if you liked it. As if what he saw in you was a darker feeling then you had ever intended to show. You had heard of what your father has done, and you’ve spent much time trying not to think of it. Not to consider the horror of fire that has been used as a tactic of fear.

Inhaling a steady breath you looked at him, “Tell your son that Bran and Rickon need to be safe and unharmed. Have him find that out for us, and then it’s Robb’s decision from there. He is the King, and it’s his choices I stand by, now and always. Is that all, my lord?”

There was a pause, as he seemed to be unsure of where you yourself was standing at his suggestion, but made his leave without a shred of discontent. “It is. Goodnight, your grace.”

He startled you as he stormed into the tent. Grey Wind immediately taking leave to stand out the door, and yet the look in Robb’s eyes was something you didn’t recognize. You had assumed you were here before him, but judging by his dressed down state he had only walked out for a short while. Tossing something you couldn’t see in his hands down onto the bed, Robb walked up to you.

Grabbing both sides of your face with his hands and pulling you up to him, his lips hovering just over yours as he almost seethed. You could feel him as you whispered, your hands gently finding his torso and resting flat. “Talk to me, my love.”

Eyes squeezing shut he shook his head before hissing out. “I need to hear it.” Stunned for a second as where this was coming from, Robb felt his patience wear thin, yanking you to press up against his front. Already you could feel how hard he was. “Tell me you’re with me.”

There was the hurt, the betrayal from someone he never expected and the need to turn that anger into something else. Gently you danced your fingers up to run them behind his neck and into his curls. “I’m with you, I always will be and I will keep telling you that everyday if I have too.”

His hands on you tightened before he slid one to rake through your hair. Nudging your cheek now with his nose before mumbling deeply into your ear. “You trust me?” Nodding, he ran his hand over your hair comfortingly, “I need you to say it.”

“I trust you.”

You should have been tipped off by how worked up he was, how much he was trying to keep himself in control as he held you but the softness of his voice was a trick that you truly fell for. One that revealed itself as Robb spun you around, holding your back firmly to his chest as he held both your hands at your sides like he was pinning them. “If I do anything you don’t like, I want you to tell me right away.”

Despite your nod, he leaned more over your shoulder grasping at your chin to turn you to look back at him. “I will, I promise.” You dared not move your hands.

Finally, a soft smile came over him. “That’s my good girl.” Leaning down Robb closed the gap and kissed your roughly. Pulling a gasping moan from your mouth into his almost right away as your fingers itched to reach back and run your hands through his hair. He lightly bit your bottom lip and as you opened with a little breathe he slid his tongue to brush against yours. The hand on your jaw trailing down, reaching slowly into the top of your shirt and smirking into the kiss as he found nothing in his way.

Biting your lips once, twice more before trailing down your neck. His facial hair scratching at your neck, leaving raw red marks where he passed that added to the delicious sting of his teeth. Your eyes fluttered shut, cries wanting to leave your mouth so desperately only to come out loud and needy as he kissed and bit at such a sensitive spot.

You hadn’t realized Robb turned you in the room until he pressed your hand to your side firmly in a warning to keep it there. Reaching over you tried to look but he pulled you back to strain your neck back at him. “Ah, ah you keep your eyes shut for me.”

For a second both his hands left you only to find him yanking both your hands back and wrapping what felt like a rope around your wrists before pulling at it to test how tight it was. Robb knelt down behind you dragging your breeches down slowly. “You drive me insane wearing these, you know that?” Carefully helping you step out of them before he ran his hands up your legs as he stood, grasping your ass roughly with both hands. “Walking around this camp, not even realizing how much every one of them would kill for even a peek at this.”

A smack at your ass pulled a shocked gasp from you before a shaky breathe sent shivers running down your spine. Smacking the same spot again before he roughly groped at the plush skin. “They don’t-”

Another smack, this time harder then either before as his groping increased in greed. “Oh they do, all those men want a piece of my pretty little wife and not one of them will ever get it.” On the unabused cheek, he gently massaged the skin before smacking it too, all the while watching your face twist in a fight of pain and pleasure. “I could walk you out there right now, and not a single one of them wouldn’t be hard as a rock at the sight.”

Stepping forward Robb moved around you to sit on the bed, pulling you carefully up to straddle his lap, when you swallowed nervously at the feeling, his touch turned soft on your hips. “I’ve got you, you’re safe I won’t let you fall.” Shifting back enough so that you could firmly sit in his lap, both your knees pressed against the fur beneath.

Smoothing his palm out to run back and pull you right over his cock by your ass, he other ran along the back of your hair much more gently. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry,” your eyes narrowing in confusion as he kept you on the edge with both his hands on such different places. “About today, all of it. You were angry, then I was so angry I didn’t even bother asking if you were alright.”

Shaking your head, you both hated yet understood why he kept you tied back. It was too easy for you to distract him with your touch, “You have nothing to apologize for, I know you care even if you don’t say it.”

“Aye, that’s the problem.” Like he was trying to drive your senses crazy, Robb ran his mouth along your jaw once more, nipping along the skin on the other side now. “If I don’t ask, you just won’t tell me when you’re not okay. I don’t want you assuming I don’t care if I don’t show it, you do nothing but be there for me and if I’m not doing the same? Then I’m a bad husband.”

Your fingers flexed again, “I love you, and you love me, that’s all we need, Robb. Just us-” you cut yourself off as he bit a little harder, marking the other side of your neck to match his previous. “Are we talking or are you seducing me?”

Smirking into your skin, he pressed his hand into your ass a little tighter, “Can’t it be both?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll have to tie me up a little better if you want me to really listen.” Pulling back his eyes were dark as they stared you down, his hand finally moving from your hair down to hold onto the rope tie at your wrists. In a second, the world spun as he pulled you up onto the bed, and flipping you over so your hands sat behind your back.

Robb pushed both your knees open before reaching behind him, pulling a small dagger out. One hand rested on your inner thigh as he kept your eyes on his, so you could watch him carefully tip the blade down to the top of your shirt before slicing into it. The sound of the tearing fabric almost screaming in the silence of the room otherwise. Tossing it down, he pulled back to rest on his knees as he took his own clothes off for you to watch.

Your knees being kept wide apart as he knocked them open more with his own and knelt in between them, watching you grow more and more wet as he undressed. “You think any of them are lucky enough to have a woman like you in their bed, soaking their sheets when they’ barley done anything?”

You shook your head, “They’re not missing anything special.”

Leaning over top of you, you felt his cock slide hard and thick between your legs. “Oh but they are, and they know it. I could buy each and every one of them as many whores as they could handle, but none of them would make them anywhere near as greedy as you make me feel for free.”

Both hands braced beside your head he dragged is cock along more ever so slowly, your voice coming out in strained breaths as you stammered out. “F-fuck, could start charging. Be good for morale.”

Capturing your lips in a biting kiss, Robb wasted no time in deepening it as he let you soak his cock more and more. Pulling your hips up to his level, but never using the leverage to try and tease you more then dragging along your folds. “You think?”

You almost laughed if he didn’t capture your lips between each word before running a hand down, pressing a thumb against your clit, sliding down to gather the wetness he knew you were still giving him and ran small circles against it firmly. Pulling back with a small bite to your bottom lip, Robb slid two fingers deep inside of you, the sound almost obscene with how wet you were around him.

“Those men have no idea do they? Not a clue how much of a needy little whore their Queen is, how desperate she is for her King to fuck her every single night.” His fingers started to thrust slowly, almost pulling out before a rougher push back in, a moan crying from you every time. “Or maybe they do, you don’t seem to bothered about letting them hear you moan like one.”

Your core burning, head thrown back as he suddenly let a third join as he fucked you with them, “Please, Robb, of fuck please, I-” You could barley finish a sentence how worked up he had you, how much your inside twisted with pleasure at the sting three was giving you.

Leaning his head down, he pulled your forehead to rest up against his as he held the back of your neck with a rough voice, “Remember my love, when you asked why would a woman want it to hurt?” You felt lightheaded as you nodded, the wolfish grin ready to devour you as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “It’s only because the one fucking them, knows exactly how far to push before. Knows right where it’ll hurt just the perfect amount that it makes you cum.”

Your whine this time was a little harsher, Robb gently shushing your cries as he slowly shoved a fourth finger inside of you. Your body already sweating from the heat of him on top of you, the fur below and the need inside of you. Tears falling from the side of you as he paused just as he pushed them as deep as they could go, “Talk to me,”

“Don’t stop, please. I, fuck, you make me feel so good I promise.” His smile this time was a little more soft, the gentle kiss a little more innocent. The wetness sounding obscene as he fucked you this way, but the heart pounding pleasure you were feeling in between the aching sting was too good. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Robb actually breathed out a laugh into your neck, leaving another kiss where his lips lay.

Only in an instant, you felt that coil snap, back arching as much as you could as Robb gently fucked you with his fingers through your orgasm, his lips along your neck making the same bite worse. Pulling them out just as you started to shake, he yanked your hips up and pushed inside of you.

You could barley think as he almost pushed you right into another orgasm, the stretch was thick and you clenched around him from the sparks of pleasure before he started to fuck you. Right up against that spot that had you sing for him, both of his hands now shoving your thighs as far apart as they could go he fucked harder.

Slow, pounding of his cock that slapped against your skin loudly. His eyes dragging over you as you weren’t even trying to hold your moans back. From the deepness of his cock and how each rough fuck sent you closer to burning in the fires you weren’t even sure you were aware of crying out his name, and how much Robb groaned each time.

All you could see and feel was him, and your heart pounded suddenly at the idea that he would ever consider you wouldn’t be there for him. The wolf making you feel utterly crazy from his touch like he wanted to possess you as much as you had his own mind and heart.

Almost falling on top of you, like Robb needed to feel you pressed against his skin, he buried his face in your neck as his hands roamed all over you. You pushed closer to the edge and this time the fall off would be into waters you never wanted to swim up from.

“Robb, please, fuck, cum inside me, my love. My king, please I want to feel you so badly,” The hair around his cock rubbing against your clit as his facial hair did the marks on your neck. His cock pushing hard against such a sensitive spot inside you that you snapped, coil twisting and breaking as your orgasm pushed you off the cliff. Arching into him and Robb holding you close as his hips fucked into you now faster as he seeked his own end deep inside of you.

“My needy girl wants me to fill her?” His voice rough as it was cracking from his own pleasure, your thighs burned from the strain, your neck from his teeth and your hips already sore from how hard he was pounding inside of you.

“Make me yours, Robb.”

Something came over him as he reached his orgasm. His hands on you rough as he started to cum, hot and thick like you could feel every drop of it deep as he spilled inside of you. His teeth clenched onto your neck and for a split second it was like as he came, he was gone and an aggressive and loud growling came from Grey Wind just outside.

Only just as he started, he stopped and Robb pulled back to press his lips against yours.

It took some time to come down, for both of you. Robb undoing the rope as he turned you onto your side away from the entrance as Grey Wind wandered in. You were pulled back into his chest as you both held the others hands tightly between your breasts as you both settled your hearts.

It was late into the night when he spoke quietly to you, “We need to meet with him, both of us. If he has Renly’s men now, he might stand a chance.”

Snuggling back into his touch, you sighed at how warm he felt. “He thinks I’m a traitor, thinks you’ve stolen half his kingdom.”

“All the more reason to try, we combine our numbers then the Lannisters have no legs to stand on, and if he doesn’t? I may have an idea for that anyways.”

Laughing lightly, your eyes slipped closed as he ran his nose along the back of your hair. “You think about my father a lot when we’re in bed, your grace?”

You got a smack on your ass one more time for that one. He likely could tell you were too close to slipping away to get into it, but Robb was awake for some time that night. Not only was his head stirring with any and every strategy he could conjure these days, but also at one other thing. Renly Baratheon being killed by a black mist in the shape of a man didn’t seem to insane, not to Robb.

Not when he could no longer pretend what was happening with Grey Wind was just his imagination.

Another direwolf on the other side of the world also sat curled up close to his master, but there was no sense of calm as they lay there that night.

One more night out in the cold beyond the wall, and another night Jons dreams were filled with tormenting images of you and Robb. Like the old gods were cursing him, more then they already currently were. You were his brothers now, he shouldn’t be forced to have such dreams that drive him insane, haunt him with knowing what you sound like in ways he almost had.

It was impossible to forget you in the dead of night, when something was filling his mind with sights and sounds of you and too many of them were like an alluring mockery of what Jon knew he gave up. But as he looked up in front of him one of the two actual things he could see just made this worse then being stuck here already felt.

Ghost first, being the only comfort he still had, beside him and facing the second figure carefully. His sharp red eyes watching as on guard as Jon’s grey ones were. It almost made him more frustrated. The woman who spoke as if she had no hypocritical thoughts that she spat at him, as if her kind hadn’t done as much bad as his and yet she never knew when to stop that mocking.

Taunting him for what she caught right away as inexperience and did she ever torment him for it. She had the gall to act as if The Night’s Watch were the true irredeemable enemy, and yet here Jon was, a grown man who certainly knew how to fight, having to put his own direwolf between them at night just to keep her aggressive advances away from him.

Whatever she thought this was, Jon couldn’t possibly tell her enough times she was wrong. She refused to listen, mocked him, and had no care of being told no. And now, each night he was mocked by dreams of the one person who showed him the exact opposite of the abuse thrown at him currently.

With the brother who always got what Jon never did, and still the one person who was the only thing Jon once ever had to himself. Ygritte could taunt him all she wanted for whatever she thinks he doesn’t know.

But Jon certainly did know what being consumed with a burning love for you feels like, and how much he hated that being forced closer to the wildling made him feel like a traitor to you.

He had to watch you and his brother for who knows why, but he told you to do it. To find love with Robb, and you listened to him, you always listened to Jon. But for him, on top of everything in this new life he had to deal with, feeling like Ygritte’s advances somehow betrayed him to you even now?

Just let the cold of the night take him out already, he thought.

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