Dipper My Long Lost Twin - Tumblr Posts

Dipperrrrrrr 🥹🥹🥹

Our children are so sweet here, only to grow up so traumatized 😭😭😭

Let’s be real, Robb had some spoiled moments, he’s the heir and firstborn, no way he wasn’t

@dipperscavern & i were gushing over our child aka second in command!reader, akaa doe, and as a parent, I felt the need to contribute

second in command!reader who is Jory Cassel's baby sister and whose mother died giving birth to her the same year as Robb Stark in 281 AC

second in command!reader who became Jory Cassel's whole world when he was only 8 years old - even more so when he learned from his Uncle Rodrik that his father died at the end of Robert's Rebellion at the Tower of Joy

second in command!reader who grew up completely and wholly loved and protected because she had her big brother Jory to look after and protect her

her first word was a swear word because her Uncle Rodrik stubbed his toe that one time when she was only a few months old and her first word was the 'f-bomb'

mother, father, brother - whatever his little doe of a sister needed him to be, he did that for her because she was his baby sister, and he loved her more than he loved anything ever

she got picked on for not having a mother or father, and sometimes there would be mean people who said she killed their mother and Jory actually hated her and only pretended to love her

when she cried to Jory about this, she asked him if he ever hated her because she killed their mother

she is crying so much at how her beloved brother's face drops and she starts to believe that those mean people were right - until Jory takes her little hands in his and tells her with such a serious expression that he’s never loved anyone so much after meeting them for the first time

second in command!reader who Robb Stark had been in love with since he first laid eyes on her even though he never realized it and since they were babies, he would cry so loudly if she wasn't in his line of sight

second in command!reader who grew up with Robb and Jon at winterfell, and who was a spitfire with more audacity than a wildling from the moment she took her first steps

second in command!reader who was the little darling doe at winterfell with Sansa because she's the oldest girl and Ned Stark's boys would follow her until they reached the ends of the earth

second in command!reader who had Ned Stark's boys totally wrapped around her finger, and these three got into the most insane situations because little doe was an unhinged child

the trio became a squad when her brother came back after fighting in the Greyjoy Rebellion and Theon Greyjoy was taken as a hostage to winterfell

the squad became even more unhinged and insane because baby doe doesn't believe in subtlety and was the one who needed to be held back when a fight was about to begin

her nickname became baby doe because once she started walking, she very quickly took to running, and like a baby doe, there needed to be an entire searching party to look for her if it took too long for her to get back

ever since they were kids, Robb Stark would want two people to sit next to him during meals at the Great Hall: Jon and his Doe

so when Theon Greyjoy came to winterfell, he was nice to the boy because he was glad to have another friend, but he was NOT a fan at how his Doe kept sitting next to the boy now

but he supposed it would be okay because then doe came running toward him all excited and happy and adorable when she started spouting how she got her brother to agree to be a brother to Theon

if Jory became Theon's brother, then Theon would be doe's brother

brothers and sisters can't marry or fall in love, at least not in the way of the old gods, meaning that Theon and doe would never marry

Robb's mood was much better since then, much to the confusion from his mother and amusement from his father

Jory thought he was hallucinating.

she walking toward him with her big, doe eyes. her hand was clutching Theon Greyjoy's.

it was a funny sight to see how his baby sister, who was still so small, dragging a boy taller than her until she stood before him with that little twinkle in her eyes.

"Uncle Rodrik was being mean to Theon," she said. "I told him he was being mean and a hippogriff because he told me i have to be nice, but then he wasn't nice!"

Jory held back a snicker and just nodded.

"Yes, that was mean, but why did you bring him here, baby Doe?"

she pulled out her pout and quivering lip and Jory knew whatever she was going to ask from him, he'd say yes.

"Well, after Uncle Rodrik was mean, I asked Theon to show me how to shoot an arrow. And then Theon told me he doesn't have any brothers because they all died! And that made me so sad because if you died, I'd never be happy again!"

Theon groaned and softly elbowed her ribs as his face became red.

he groaned. "Doe, I told you not to tell anyone about that."

she turned to her new friend with an angry look and angrily stomped the dirt with her little foot.

"Of course I'm telling about it! You're my friend, and I don't like people being mean to my friends!"

Jory leans forward and picks her up until she looked like she was flying and her little legs were kicking in the air and she couldn't stop her giggles until he put her back on the ground again.

"Very good, baby Doe. But why did you bring him here?"

"I want you to be his brother like with me! Can you do that Jory? Pleaseeeeeeeeee? No one should be alone!"

...and of course, Jory said yes.

the huge smile on her face and she cheered and tackled him to the ground to thank him told him that he made the right decision.

since then, whenever Jory and Doe would go to the godswoods, ride through the wolf woods, or go fishing at acorn waters - Theon would be there with them.

for the first time since he was taken from home, Theon Greyjoy felt like he wasn't an outsider.

he felt like he wasn't a hostage held captive by his father's enemy who aided a king who slaughtered thousands of his father's men.

he felt like a boy who had a younger sister who was his best friend, and he was her's, and it felt like he never knew what it felt like being alone in the first place at all.

Robb Stark was not happy.

he was very not happy.

his mother had just given birth to his new baby sister, Arya Stark, and since then, he hasn't had a moment alone with Doe.

normally she would always be the first one in the courtyard, ready to train with him, Jon, and Theon under her Uncle Rodrik and brother, Jory.

but lately, all she's been doing is helping out his mother with his new sister - she's even been playing with Sansa!

Doe didn't hate his little sister - in fact, she liked Sansa very much, but Sansa liked boring stuff like playing princesses or dressing up or stitching.

and Doe wasn't boring...she was different from other girls at winterfell.

she loved to run in the woods and train with swords.

she hated wearing dresses and never bothered to learn how to braid her hair because she would just use the little leather string to hold it.

she loved playing snow wars during the summer snows and neer minded getting mud on her breeches.

but now...now she wasn't playing with him anymore and spending time with Sansa instead of him...it was very annoying.

and what's worse - Jon didn't get it, and neither did Theon.

Jon just shrugged when he complained. "Lady Stark needs help because she just gave birth to a baby."

Robb rolled his eyes. "I know that - but why is she spending all her time with Sansa? She doesn't even like playing princesses or stitching!"

Theon scoffed. "Your mum's spending all her time now with the new baby instead of Sansa, duh. If your sister's not kept busy or played with, then Lady Stark'll have two screaming babies."

Theon wasn't happy that Doe was spending time with the prissy little lady who was too much like her mother - always looking at him with an upturned nose and uppity attitude.

but he knew if he wasn't having a good time, his doe was having an even worse time.

Robb still pouted - he hated feeling like this, he didn't like it.

it was like that time when he caught doe being nice and playing the blacksmith's son and not him and he marched over to grab her wrist and dragged her away from him

Theon snickered. "Don't worry - Sansa'll get over it and you'll get your little lady back before you know it."

Robb's face turned bright red as Jon and Theon laughed at his expression.

"SHE IS NOT MY-"

"What're you lot screamin' for?"

Robb turned around and there she was, staring at her friends with a confused expression at the screaming she heard from her lord's son.

she burst out laughing at how he was gaping at her like a fish out of water.

She shoved his arm and walked ahead. "Come on! Septa Mor-dumb finally let me out! Let's get outta here before she changes her mind!"

she took off running with laughs echoing through the woods and all the boys followed after her.

it was the best day Robb had in so long: he spent the entire day running, fishing, playing, and climbing.

the four finally calmed down and stopped to rest underneath the red leaves of the weirwood tree.

Theon and Jon were fast asleep while Robb and Doe were still awake and talking.

"...Hey Doe?"

She turned to him. "Yeah?"

"Who do you like more: me or Sansa?"

She blinked before answering with a big smile. "You, of course, dummy! Sansa's not nearly as fun! And I knew you way longer - of course I like you more!"

the next time Doe played with Sansa, Robb didn't complain.

because he knew that no matter how many siblings he had, he'd always be her favorite Stark.

...Theon and Jon still keep teasing him about it though...whatever, they were just jealous.

these two are so in love and are so obvious and everyone knows it but them smh

@dipperscavern is literally my wife - we're married, we eloped, and second in command!reader is our baby

@ghostinvenus i hope you don't mind me tagging you, but there's gonna be a lot more brainrot for our doe 🤣

DIPPYYYY, BABYGIRL, LOVE OF MY LIFE, TWIN FLAME OF MY SOUL

This is your first Robb smut post and it’s so well done!!! I’m so proud of you!

Everything was so in character from our doe being sassy and vulnerable and having zero self-preservation -> to our Robb Stark King of the North being a man who lets his temper go first before a plus tell doing EVERYTHING to make it up to you

*SQEALING, FLAILING, KICKING MY LEGS IN THE AIR*

secondincommand!reader getting hurt shielding robb during battle.. rubbing my hands & feet together like a fly on the wall

word count: 1.4k.. how to say oopsie in 14 different languages

robb stark x f!secondincommand!reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜.・。.・゜✭・.

war was unpredictable. anything could happen, nothing was guaranteed — except one thing. war was bloody.

he hated every time you fought with him. robb knew why you did, of course. how can you command men you won’t even fight for? why should they listen to someone who’s afraid to get their hands dirty?

you weren’t budging, & even though you knew they’d still follow you if you didn’t fight, robb didn’t, and it worked in your favor anyways. robb could barely focus when fighting, knowing you were out there, but he was the king. he had to stand strong & lead by example, so he did. & things went well enough.

until they didn’t.

robb always led the vanguard, constantly put wherever the fighting was thickest. you were usually commanding the archers, being better with a bow than you were with a sword. though skilled with both, you didn’t mind being with the archers, & theon sometimes joined you. he’d either fight beside robb or help out with the archers, and you didn’t mind the help.

the battle had gone as smoothly as battle could go so far, until you broke from the archers & took an arrow for robb.

luckily, the archer wasn’t a great shot, the arrow lodging in your upper thigh. but to robb, it didn’t matter where it settled — you were hurt.

the man who shot you was quickly cut down, & robb caught you from falling. his head swam, vision going fuzzy from the thought of you being hurt. he would’ve paused the whole goddamn war right then and there, if theon didnt wrap your arm around his shoulder and promise to get you to the medic tent.

he wanted to keep you with him, take you there himself, but theon argued-

“there’s still fighting to be done!”

& robb knew he was right. with a silent prayer to the old gods, he mounted once more, ignoring the pain in his chest as he drew his sword.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

robb’s head was swimming, filled with thoughts of only you. as soon as the fighting was done, he set off to find you. nothing could stop him, & anyone who was in his way knew to get the fuck out of it. he spotted theon escorting you back to you & his shared tent, one of your arms slinked around his shoulders. you had a bandage wrapped around your upper thigh, spots of blood showing through the fabric as you hobbled as best you could.

he ran over, entering the tent just as theon was gently setting you down on one of the chairs inside.

“thanks, theon-“

“what in seven hells was that? hm?”

you & theon’s heads turned to look at him, both of you caught by surprise at his tone. you swallowed, looking at theon — a silent plea to leave before robb’s anger turned to him. he looked at you both, before turning & walking out.

“that was me-“

“almost getting killed?”

“protecting my king.”

robb just blinks, looking at you for a second. he can’t understand how you aren’t as utterly distraught as he felt in that moment, catching you in his arms as you fell.

“y’can’t just do that! just- take arrows whenever you feel like it!”

this is the first time robb has yelled at you. ever. you know he doesn’t mean it — or at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself, to keep the tears at bay.

“i would do it again.”

robb huffs out a laugh, turning around and looking at the floor, before looking at you once more.

“this is war, okay? i don’t have time to watch you while ‘m puttin’ a sword through a man’s belly!”

“then don’t?!”

“looks like i have to!” he says, motioning to the bandage on your thigh.

you sigh, “this is war, robb. people get hurt.”

he only shakes his head.

“gods- i shouldn’t have to watch over you like a child. y’should be better than that..” he says, turning & leaving you alone in the tent.

and for once, you’re glad robb leaves. the tears rolling down your cheeks wouldve embarrassed you if he saw.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

you weren’t mad at him. by rights, you should be, & if you were, you knew nobody would blame you — but you weren’t.

you had prided yourself on being the person to fix everything. you were always the solution, not the problem. you hated the shame you felt, and even though you’d take the arrow for robb a hundred times more, you hated when he was mad at you.

still, you knew robb would come to you when he was ready. he rarely let his emotions get the best of him, & you knew how much stress he was under. you sat at the table, maps & books spread out in front of you. you were upset, and burying yourself in your work was a reasonable solution.

you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, back aching from your hunched over form. you sighed, finally deciding to turn into the bed that’s been calling your name.

wandering hands & soft calls of your name woke you up.

you opened your eyes, brain still clouded with the fog of sleep. you woke up quickly, seeing robb’s form above you.

“robb?”

“hey, pretty.”

your brows furrowed, cheeks heating at his comment. “thought you were mad at me..”

he shook his head, gaze softening. “came to say ‘m sorry. can i?”

you nodded, tongue darting out to wet your lips. he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, your own parting to give him access.

“‘m sorry.”

he mumbled against your lips, kissing you again. his lips trailing down your neck, mumbled apologies spilling from his lips between kisses.

your breathing gets heavier as he trails down, removing your nightgown & his own clothes.

“when i saw y’ take that arrow.. gods, doe..”

he’s gentle. he always is, but more so than ever before. he’s taking his time, full on cherishing you. it’s clear in the gentleness of his calloused, war stricken hands. the very same hands that had taken the lives of lannister soldiers earlier that day were now caressing you, softly roaming your body & sliding into the slick place between your thighs.

“wanted to stop the damn war right then, right there. hold you close, never let you go.”

he feels you clench on his fingers at his words. hot pleasure shoots up your spine, the throbbing pain in your thigh now reduced to a forgotten ache. he wants to do this for the rest of his life, he thinks. take off the crown, bed you all day long. give you so much pleasure you forget a time where anything ever went wrong, fill your brain with thoughts of only him, him, him. he makes a silent promise to do so, once you both return to winterfell. reward you for all the times you’ve saved his arse out here.

“y’couldve.. wouldn’t have- mm! complained..”

he chuckles at your words, tilting his head to the side.

“yeah? woulda liked that?” you nod. “yeah, i know.. i know it, pretty.”

it’s not long after, you’re gushing on his fingers. back arching as you coat your inner thighs & his hand with your arousal. robb presses kisses to your belly as you catch your breath, hands coming to intertwine with his curls as he trails up your torso. little-

“‘m sorry.” & “forgive me? please?”

‘s are muttered between kisses, and you don’t have the heart to tell him you forgave him hours ago — before he even came back. he aligns his cock with your entrance, slowly pushing in as he wraps his hand around yours.

“didn’t mean anythin’ i said. not a word. i was- seven hells… i was so afraid.”

you’re so full. tears brim your waterline at his words, his hands, his cock — just robb. he thrusts, in & out, movements making you shutter as you’re hyper aware of everything. every touch, every slow drag of his hips. goosebumps trail along your body as you bite back a shudder, feeling utterly oh so good.

you ask him to kiss you, & he’s compliant to your every need, pressing his lips to yours. he’d fulfill your every request, go to the ends of the earth if you asked him to. what teasing he may normally shower you with is out of the window now, savoring every moment he has with you, as if you could vanish at any given point in time. watching you take that arrow reminded him of that. that you could.

he hits the right spot, over and over again, making you see stars. it’s not long before your grip on his hand tightens, walls clamping down on his cock as you cum. he follows suit, cumming with a groan that reverberates deep in his chest.

he cleans you with a damp washcloth, making sure your stitches didn’t tear either. you’re both laying on your sides, you facing his chest as his hand traces up and down your spine. the silence is comfortable.

“you forgive me?”

“i forgave you hours ago.”

your laughter echoes into the night.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜.・。.・゜✭・.

@cdragons @ghostinvenus (just lmk anytime u wanna stop being tagged!)

guys i went a little ham w this but oh well. posting smut on tumblr is soooo scary okay bye

This is probably the only time I’ll write a x reader fic where the reader DOESNT have trauma lol

"My Girl" - Robb Stark x Forest Fairy!Reader Drabble

A/N: This goes out to my girl, @dipperscavern! She needed a pick-me-up after the Tumblr app decided to be a bitch and delete her draft!!! But she still pressed on and wrote an incredible Robb Stark smut drabble! Pls go check it out!

"Please, Jon," Robb pleaded. "Just for today, and I'll make it up to you."

"Your mother will kill me if she finds out," Jon groaned. Normally, he'd be more than happy to cover for his brother, but what he was asking for was too much - even for him. "She hates me enough as it is."

"She doesn't hate you," Robb winced at the lie, but he was desperate. "Please, I have to see her."

"Why can't you see her tomorrow?" asked his half-brother. "The hunt is tomorrow anyway, you can just sneak away to see her then."

Robb shook his head. "You know how she feels about hunts. The moment the horn blows, she'll scatter far away, and I won't be able to see her for a week! A week - that's too long!"

Jon stared at his brother in complete disbelief at his dramatics. It was hard to believe that the first son of Ned Stark, Warden of the North, would be so far gone for a girl who lived so deep in the forest. A girl who lived a life completely shrouded herself in the mysterious beauty of the ancient woods.

A girl whose allure and grace were of a being so ethereal, she shouldn't exist.

Jon sighed. "Fine, I'll watch over Bran and Rickon by myself today - but if Father asks me, I'm telling him you skipped on your own!"

His brother whispered his shouts to avoid attracting attention from the rest of the keep, but Robb was already on his horse and raced out of the gates before he finished. He couldn't want to see you - his girl, his fairy, his mythic love.

Robb soon reached a part of the forest known to only very few in the North - his father included. The Starks were not only the Wardens of the North but the keeper of its ancient secrets.

Once he rode past the invisible barrier - accessible by those that carry the blood of House Stark - the wintery abode filled with white snow and blue ice melted away to a world of iridescent green trees and a kaleidoscope of colors eternally blooming. He finally saw the red leaves of the ancient weirwood tree whose twin linked your worlds together. Under the magnificent branches, he felt an explosion of love burst inside him at the sight of you.

You - his one and only love - sitting on the gnarled and overgrown roots of your tree. Your feet were bare as you only wore simple white linen dress that hugged your curves beautifully. He saw the flowers and small buds braided into your dark, wavy, umber-brown tresses.

"Fairy!"

Robb called out the nickname he had given you since he first met you in these woods as a child. He felt life flow inside him as he watched you turn around and saw the bright smile spread across your face. As soon as he was close enough, he slowed his steed to stop before jumping off and racing to the ancient tree where you and him would rendezvous in secret.

"Robb!" you called out. You waved in excitement before lightly jogging forward to meet him halfway.

Robb immediately took you in his arms and held you in a tight embrace. He pressed his nose into your locks and breathed in the lavender and wild grass notes. He felt time slow down until it seemed like the whole world stopped. Robb knew such a thing was impossible, but he thought many things were impossible before meeting you.

You slightly nudged him away until his face slightly hovered above yours. On your tiptoes, until they dug into the soft dirt beneath you, you firmly pressed your lips to his and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your mortal lover gladly reciprocated and tightened his arms around your waist until your chests were firmly pressed against each other.

When you finally parted for air, Robb lovingly stared at how beautifully flushed your cheeks became. He watched in a lust-ridden gaze at how your fingers swiftly undid the ties in front of your dress. He felt his breath stop as the garment pooled at your feet. Your body was completely bare and unclothed, and your skin was unmarred and looked silky-soft. You took his hand and held it at your breast - he could feel how fast and hard your heart was beating.

He wondered if you even knew how much of his breath you took away.

"I want to feel you, my love," you whispered. "Just us, under our tree, where only the witnesses of our love are our gods."

Robb choked back a groan. If he felt his cock growing hard at the sight of your skin, your words made his cock weep for your wet walls.

Gods, he loved you so much - how could he refuse?

Hurriedly, he took off his cloak and laid it down on the ground before removing his clothes with your help; Robb was just as bare and naked as you were. You gasped at the sight of him.

How could one man be so beautiful? How did such beauty become possible? How blessed were you to receive his love?

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, and your lips parted to grant his access to fully devour you. When it felt like you would collapse from the lack of air, his lips trailed down your neck. You heard him murmur against your skin.

"I love you."

He repeated it over and over again, and your breathing became heavier as he continued to trail down. On the tops of your breasts, he deeply breathed the addictive perfume of your skin and began to lay kisses within the valley. His gentle hands roamed and caressed your skin with so much tenderness as his fingers reached that soaked spot between your plush thighs. He slowly slid his fingers inside you, and he growled at how much your slick arousal coated his calloused fingers.

You, on the other hand, felt completely lost in the sea of pleasure Robb was drowning you in. He was gentle. He always was with you, but today...it felt like he was the one who would completely fall apart without you.

Despite you were in full knowledge that it was truly the opposite.

Because for all of his Northern roughness, he was a man who loved with all his heart. He was utterly loyal to those he loved and cherished—a sentiment he shared especially with you, and you could not have been more grateful.

"I want to be here with you," he softly mumbled. "I could never want for anything else if I lived the rest of my life here, with you and our children. You, my pretty fairy, as the mother of my children, and me, your loyal wolf, forever protecting you."

He felt your core clench at his words as hot pleasure shot up your spine. It was a dream the two of you often shared - a life without obligations or duty, no fussy mothers or pushy fathers to stand in your way, and no empty and bleak futures looming over you. A life where it was just the two of you, riding through your forest with your horses, the woods filled with the laughter of your children. And when the day ended, the night would be filled with endless pleasure as your thoughts would only be full of him and his full of you.

You tenderly stroked the curls from his face as you felt the dam holding your pleasure slowly breaking.

Your chest was heaving. "It will, my sweet wolf," you promised. "Ours is a love no one can take away—the gods have shown it to me. After all, our gods are the ones who brought us together in the first place."

It was not long until you completely fell apart and gushed over his fingers. Your back arched as you coated your inner thighs and his fingers with your slick. Robb huskily chuckled as he pressed kisses down your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. Your fingers intertwine with his lovely, auburn curls in an attempt to anchor yourself to this material plane.

"Lie down," he softly ordered. "I won't take you against the harsh bark of a tree."

"Oh, but on your cloak in the dirt is an acceptable alternative?" you teased despite lowering against the soft, dark furs of your lover's fine cloak.

He smirks at your mirth as he crawls toward you. His perfect form hovering over you as if you were prey and he was about to devour you whole.

"Of course," he confirmed. "After all, I plan to take you on it until the only word you know how to say is my name, and the furs soak up all of your cum until it's all I can smell on it until the end of time."

Biting your bottom lip in anticipation, you could hardly wait for him to make good on his promise.

Robb aligns his cock at your entrance, its head red and its tip leaking with precum, as he slowly pushes inside you as wraps his hand in yours. He was only halfway inside you before he fully pushed himself in and completely bottomed out.

You cried as white, hot pleasure shot up your spine and flooded every nerve in your body. You felt so full and could hardly wrap your head around the fact that you and Robb's bodies were joined together as one.

"Fuckin'- fuck," he gasps out. "How is it you're so tight every time I take you?"

"Because I'm yours, Robb," you answered breathlessly. "My body was made for you as yours was made for me. Such pleasures could only exist between us - us and no one else."

Feeling the pool of pleasure in his stomach overflowing at your words, Robb begins to slowly thrust - in and out - until he reaches a steady rhythm that makes you senselessly babble as you feel your body becoming dull to everything but Robb. You felt every slow drag of his hips, every lingering trail of his touch, every hot breath on your skin, and you wondered how one man could make you feel so good.

He hits that spot inside you—the one that makes you see stars that only he could reach. Your eyes roll back, and you beg him to kiss you. A wish he complies without question—because what is his purpose if not to grant your every wish in his power?

It isn't long until he feels your walls clenching around his cock, and he can feel his control quickly slipping.

"Fairy, my fairy," he pleads against your lips. "'m close, 'm cumming."

"In-inside, my love," you beg. "I want you to spill your seed inside me. Let it take root in my womb, and our child grow."

Your grip on his hand tightens as your love's thrusts become quicker and sloppy, and he hits that spot inside you even more harshly and roughly. You scream as your walls clamp down on his member as your arousal spills out and coats his cock. He quickly follows after you, pushing himself as deep as he can to fill your womb with his seed as a groan resonates deep within his chest.

Despite the exhaustion flooding his muscles, Robb does not collapse atop you or pull out. Instead, he presses a soft kiss on your sweaty temple and lies by your side. He holds you close and breathily chuckles at how close to sleep you look in his arms. He places a small peck on your nose and smiles at how it scrunches so adorably.

"Rest now, my love. I'll be here when you wake."

You let out a loud yawn. "Good...believe it or not, this isn't what I had planned for us."

"Oh? And what were we supposed to do before you...distracted me?"

Robb raises his brow before smirking at the memory of how you initiated seducing him. You swatted his arm.

"My mare successfully gave birth to a foal. He's so beautiful - a red and white coat. I already love him."

"Have you named him?"

"Yes, Kodak."

Robb wanted to ask why you decided to name him that of all things, but you were burrowed in his chest - already in a deep sleep. With a content smile, he followed suit and met you in a dream. A beautiful dream where it was just you, him, your children, and 'Kodak.' All of you laughing and smiling in your beloved woods.

Underneath the weirwood tree, you and he met all those years ago - when you were still a sprite, and he was still a boy. Underneath the weirwood where Robb saw you for the first time, and he swore to the Old Gods and New that he would love only you for the rest of his life.

A promise he swore then, a promise he still keeps, and a promise that remains true until his last breath.

@dipperscavern, if you've died from an overload of fluff and love delulu fantasies...then I've done my job

Me reading the fluff:

Me imagining the wedding night cause I’m nasty:

Me reading this whole as fic and feeling my heart overcome for love for my Dippy because she IS the moment:

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

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

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

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

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

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

“the beauties of winterfell…”

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

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

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

through marriage.

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

“the beauty and the beast..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“of course, my lady.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yeah, he thinks. you’re perfect.

his winter rose.

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

My goddess, my savior, my one and only Dipper

Not me imagining how Robb would gladly "volunteer" to warm you up whenever you got too cold *wink* *wink*- behind the stable, in the godswoods, underneath the Weirdwood tree, etc etc

can i pls request headcanons for robb stark in an arranged marriage with a princess from the summer isles?? maybe some stuff about cultures mixing, how she struggles to fit in/adapt to winterfell but he helps her, etc. thank u sm!!! <3

yes of course!! i actually had a lot of fun researching the summer isles for this haha, thank u sm for the ask <3

so i definitely think the weather would be a big adapter. the summer isles are hot & winterfell is the temperature of the krusty krabs deep freezer. as someone from an area that runs hot, i can withstand the heat but CRUMBLE in the cold. with that being said, robb would be super kind in trying his best to help you adapt not only culturally, but physically.

he would accompany you to winterfells tailor/seamstress, overseeing having custom furs made for you to keep you warm. you tried to dress for the weather, but you’ve never been the north cold, and your light sweaters aren’t doing it.

he would try & make sure you didn’t have to spend a lot of time outside/in the cold when you first arrived, wanting to give your body time to adjust. making sure you always had your fire lit on cold nights, being by your side when you did have to brave the weather, pushing back if his mother/father wanted you to make appearances out in the town before you were ready.

but, after a little while, he would definitely take you out himself. to the godswood, watching bran & arya train, to ride horses (if you ride) etc. little things that are quality time for you two & also get you used to the cold.

i’m not sure how this works with princesses of the summer isles, but the summer islanders are said to be “famed as expert archers, and their bows made of goldenheart wood are capable of firing arrows hard enough to pierce steel plate armor, even from a very far distance.” with that being said, i think these skills would help you really hit it off with everyone in winterfell.

you’re a better archer than theon, which sparks contests between y’all (literally all the time). he claims he’ll win (he doesn’t. ever.) he says it’s the sunlight hitting his eyes (it’s cloudy)

you help bran with his archery, and he flourishes under your guide. this would also make robb fall soooooo in love w you 😭 he’s standing there watching you guys with his arms crossed, imagining what you’d look like with children of your own (gorgeous) (he’s daydreaming)

& ned would love for you to accompany them on hunts, or anywhere he could watch your skill. you remind him of arya & give him reassurance that she really will be okay. speaking of arya, she would ADORE you omg.

the summer islanders are also known as the best seafarers in the world. watching you with a bow & hearing of your stories at sea would make arya look up to and respect you SO heavily. she wants to be around you all the time. she & robb fight over you LMAO

…and then we fucked so loudly, the blonde haired bastards in King’s Landing heard us

Hiiii!!! Could you please write something abt comforting Robb after a long day of leading the war? Just some nice, sweet moments between the two of em xx

anon i SPECIALIZE in this department. thank you sm for the ask, i hope u enjoy !!

the tent is dark in the cloak of night, lightly illuminated by the various candles placed about. robb fiddles with the stuck buckle of his armor inside his tent, sighing in his growing frustration at the persistence of his armor refusing to unlatch.

he’s got squires for this, he knows, but he’s been around men all day. taken lives of fathers, brothers, sons, he can take off his own damn armor.

he gives it one final tug before he gives up, sitting back and running his hands down his face, trying his best to rub the sleep from his eyes. he’s got wounded to check on, meetings to hold & ravens to answer. he can take off his armor later.

he leans forward, putting his elbows on the table & resting his head in his hands, just for a moment.

….

approaching footsteps interrupt his moment of reprieve, and greywind rouses from where he lays guard at the door. robb hopes it’s just the guards changing shifts, but he knows better. it’s someone coming to ask him for something. someone coming to tell him what he should be doing instead of what he has been. pigs are flying and he must fix it.

he closes his eyes, and he hears someone enter the tent. the guards are obligated to announce everyone’s arrival, are they not? who could they possibly let in without hesitation?

“what is it?”

his tone is harsher than he intends. he’s snappy, even when he doesn’t mean to be. when he gets no answer, he looks up, and it’s you. his expression softens in record time, guilt crawling up his spine. he puts his head in his hands again, sighing at his own stupidity. what kind of king speaks to his people like he just did? to his lady, nonetheless?

you walk over to him, wordless, and begin to unlatch the stuck buckle. it lets go in record time, and you move to the next. robb sits back to give you access to all of his armor, and you step into his space. you must be a gift from the gods, he thinks. some kind of… divine blessing that he could never be worthy of receiving.

some time passes like that. you, taking off his armor, and robb, sitting back ever so patiently, resisting the urge to pull you closer. the weight lifts off him as the layers get shed, and he can’t help the few groans that escape him. how long has he been wearing this? ten, twelve hours? his body relaxes as you work, and in tune, his mind. his hand reaches for any part of you he can hold while not interrupting your work. he almost thinks he’s bothering you until he feels you lean into him, whether you’re aware of it or not. it brings the first smile he’s worn on his face all day.

eventually you pull him up to send him to bathe.

“y’look like death.”

your comment has a playful expression adorn robb’s face as he pulls you closer, and he starts poking your ribs, the place where you’re most ticklish. you yelp in surprise, squirming in his grasp and trying to get away. he’s got a good hold of you, and your pleas for him to stop are drowned out by your own laughter.

even if you’re the victim, you secretly enjoy the playful moments like these. the ones where you get a glimpse of the robb you fell in love with at winterfell — where you both were just two stupid kids, head over heels for each other.

“robb- robb!”

he eventually decides on mercy, stopping his assault. you sway in his arms, catching your breath & letting smaller giggles escape you. he leans in, kissing your temple in a half-apology (he’s not sorry) as he leaves to wash the grime off himself.

he comes back to find you lighting a candle you just replaced. the glow of its light illuminates your features, and you’ve never looked so pretty. he approaches you, and he can’t help himself, sliding an arm around your waist & pulling you into him. however stuck you may be, you seem content with your situation. you aren’t sure how long you stand like that, soaking in each others presence, watching the candles flame dance. you’re both so enamored in this moment, you don’t hear greywind moving to stand up.

“Your grace.”

you both turn around to see the subject of the intrusion. a guard has his head poked through the tents entrance, greywind stopping him from stepping inside.

“A raven.” the guard holds up a sealed scroll, punctuating his words. robb squeezes your waist ever so lightly as he lets go, moving to collect the scroll and add it to his list of things he must do. he nods, silently dismissing the guard, and the guard bows, going back to his post.

he breaks the seal, and whatever’s written on the paper has robb’s mood growing sour as he reads it. he sets it down on the table, putting his hands on the old wood and exhaling through his nose, leaning his weight against it. his eyes are distant, overworked brain no doubt at a loss of what to do anymore. how much can one man take?

you hate seeing him like this. the crown on his head is heavy, and war has not been kind. you wish you could fix it all yourself, but you can’t. the best you can do is stand unwavering by his side, there to prop him up when he’s buckling. so you do.

you move to join him, gently moving one of his arms off of the table to give you room to wrap your arms around him. he’s immediate in his response, tucking his head in your shoulder & pulling your body flush against his. he sighs, a shaky exhale against your shoulder. he needed this. bad. and he didn’t even know it, not until he got it.

not until he feels the heat and weight of your body pressed against his own, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. he can feel you trying to embed yourself into his memory, a reminder that even when you’re not here, he can come back to this moment. when he feels like he’s drowning in the vast sea of battle and politics — that he once felt like he was drowning here, inside this tent, too. and you were there to pull him back up. somehow, impossibly, he finds himself pulling you closer.

…✋ I’ll take mean!Robb 🫠

request: letting robb stark take me feral like the wolf he is

unfortunately this is giving me thoughts.

usually, he’s ever so gentle. passionate, attentive, unapologetic in his desire for you. but he’s stressed. constantly frustrated. angry, even. so, you offer for him to take it out on you. an outlet to release all of his pent up energy. he’s hesitant at first, unsure & unwilling to hurt you, but you trust him — and you tell him as much.

so here you are. your throat & chest littered with marks, some areas bitten. he didn’t even bother to prep you, bottoming out in one swift push that knocks the air from your lungs. his nails leave indents from where they tightly grip your hips. or, anywhere he can reach, really. his pace is relentless, harsh & setting your nerves on fire. you squirm, wanting reprieve as you lose track of the amount of times you’ve peaked.

he merely pulls you closer, back flush against his chest as he leans forward, positioning his head next to your ear so you can hear him.

“where you goin’? hm?” he doesn’t get a reply. he doesn’t expect one.

“thought you could take it? y’said you could.”

he sets a new pace, tantalizingly slow as he fully bottoms out & then pulls himself almost entirely away. and again. and again. his hands roam you, and you’re not sure this is the same robb you married. he’s rough — harsh. he’s mean.

…🫠

Stark Men: Bark if you want me

Me: *fucking howling to the moon*

stark men come with a built in breeding kink send tweet

TWEET RECIEVED. LIKED & REPOSTED.

honestly, it’s genetics i’m afraid. just part of the deal. they can’t help it. you look so pretty when you’re with children, they just wanna give you some of your own :(

growing up and having his mother & father as an example, robb has always wanted a big family. the desire only increased tenfold the first time you laid together (he always finishes inside of you to ensure that happens)

jon doesn’t even know he wants it. not until he’s finally got you in his grasp, and he can’t think about anything else but giving you a child. your belly would be round & swollen and it would be all because of him.

cregan can’t help it. every time you’re around kids, the thought invades his mind. you, with little wolf pups growing in your belly (he grows hard at the thought). you see his expression grow distant, as he no doubt imagines little chunky toddlers running around winterfell. they’d have your eyes.

…Dippy…DIPPY — as if this WASNT the hottest thing I’ve read this week, you just HAD to end it with THIS LINE???

“Only once?”

No - definitely not only once, lord commander Snow. We’re goin’ as many times as possible so long as I BREATHE

I’m salivating and it’s not just cause of the garlic bread I’m toasting

can I be cheeky and ask for riding jon’s face 🫣🫣🫣

yes… oh yes you absolutely can….. i fell asleep last night to the thought of jon snow canonically being a munch (funny enough) — we’re on the same wavelength anon ! (written w shy!reader in mind)

you’ve heard the talk, heard the different ladies from different statures talk about “the act”, and it’s always a different answer. some say it’s mediocre… others, that it’s their favorite way to feel good, and some, say it’s terrible. you’ve heard stories of men never caring about the woman’s pleasure, and how their only purpose was to give them children. the thought made you shudder.

you, yourself, have never had time. time to freely choose who you trust enough to share that sacred experience with (or even touch yourself). the men at castle black are sworn to celibacy, and even if they would abandon their oath for a night with you, you wouldn’t let them. most of the men at the wall are untrustworthy, and you want more than just a quick fuck. even if these thoughts plague you, you’re too busy with your duties to worry about it. a thing you’ve since long accepted.

until jon snow.

you had been there for jon since his arrival at castle black. never batting an eye at his surname, always trying to make his life a little bit easier. there was also the stolen glances, the soft touches you both passed off as “accidental”, the longing for each other. you both remained as merely “close friends”, until things boiled over and you found solace in each others lips. it didn’t go farther than that, the tentative kiss being soft & exploring, and that was okay with you. you didn’t expect more. until you got more.

sometimes, you hate jon for being so easy to talk to. your shy nature has slowly melted away in his presence, and you find yourself unable to be embarrassed about the questions you ask or answer. your late night talks are what keeps jon sane. he wants to know everything about you, and you both would talk till morning if you could (you have before). the topic often shifts, landing on anything and everything on the planet. even “the act”.

imagine jon’s surprise, when the most beautiful & endearing woman he’s ever met drops her gaze to the floor and bashfully tells him she’s never cum before.

jon short circuits. he asks if you want to. he asks if he can make you. and you say yes.

jon snow is a giver. tasting a woman is a pleasure in itself, and he’d tell you as much if you asked. his mind ran a million miles an hour, thinking about all the ways he could make you feel good. it doesn’t take long before the desire to taste you takes a hold of him, and so he does.

“You’re hovering.”

he’s not wrong. you are. you thought you had heard it all, but the act of sitting on someone’s face has clearly alluded your ears. you’re unsure. you don’t want to hurt him.. suffocating the first man you lay with would have you begging the gods to open the ground and swallow you whole. and it’s not just any man, it’s jon.

the soft glide of jon’s fingers across your thigh bring you out of your head. his hands are cold. they feel nice in contrast to your own skin, nerves lit on fire.

“I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You won’t.”

“Jon-”

“Do you trust me?”

he’s steadfast in his reassurance. his thumb has been rubbing circles in your hip while you both have been talking. does he do it all on purpose, or is he just this naturally desirable?

“You know I do, but-“

“Good. Sit.”

you still hesitate, and that’s when jon takes matters into his own hands. his hands stop their tracing, and instead grip your thighs, bringing you down himself.

whatever expectations you had are exceeded tenfold. jon eats you out like a man starved. your head spins with the way you can feel his tongue, exploring you and swiping over your clit. it has white hot pleasure shooting up your spine, and your thighs quiver ever so slightly, but jon’s firm grip keeps you in place. he’s confident in his movements, precise and sure in a way that makes you see stars.

jon thinks he’s found the place where he would be content to meet his demise. you taste so good, and the pretty sounds you’re making have blood rushing straight to his cock. jon has always loved the sound of his name on your lips — whether it be small acknowledgments in passing by, or just mentions in mere conversation. but he’s found he much prefers hearing you moan it.

you’re almost embarrassed how quickly he has warmth building up in your belly, pressure building as he gives you the most pleasure you’ve ever had. he’s giving and giving and giving, and you find yourself selfishly taking all of it. he doesn’t slow down, keeping a steady rhythm that makes the cord in your stomach wind impossibly tighter.

“Jon, I’m-!”

you don’t get to finish your sentence, interrupted by the snap of the cord in your stomach that was previously tightening. pleasure overtakes your nerves, flooding your veins and momentarily removing your ability to speak (or think). jon’s tongue doesn’t stop fully, only slowing down to help you ride out your peak.

you catch your breath, feeling jon kiss the inside of your thighs as small aftershocks have you clenching around nothing. you find yourself seeking his touch (as if he hasn’t been constantly on you), your hand running along the surface of your thigh to find his own. he reaches for you, trapping your own smaller hand beneath his own. it’s reassuring, grounding you back to the present after he brought you so far over the edge.

you move to get off, to let him get up & breathe — but he doesn’t release his grip, keeping you in place. you hear him speak.

“Only once?”

…I’ll be his mistress but the North knows I’m its Queen

Hi!! I was wondering if you could write about Robb’s childhood best friend/lover finding out about his betrothal between him and one of the Frey girls? Love your writing!!

i won’t lie… this one hurt my heart a bit (i’m grieving) but we persevere — i’m glad u enjoy my writing & thank you sm for the ask </3 (i am a shell of the man i once was)

robb stark x fem!reader (angst, doomed by the plot i fear)

war is unforgiving. war is harsh, it is mean, and it doesn’t change direction for anyone’s feelings. terrible things happen, terrible choices have to be made, and there’s nothing you can do about it. this is a hard lesson that you’ve had to learn, ever since lord eddard stark (or as you knew him, ned) was beheaded, and the north declared war.

it all seemed to happen so fast. one thing after another, like the stone of tragedy was rolling down the hill and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. fate has been cruel, and especially cruel to your lover, robb.

and here sits another obstacle for him to maneuver. lord walder frey.

you needed to cross at the twins. there was no other option, and it was crucial that you win the freys to your side. it was so important, that catelyn stark herself went to treat with them. she was confident that her past with lord frey would ensure her safety, and hopefully make her negotiation that much easier. you bit down on your bottom lip watching her leave, in a poor attempt to soothe your nerves.

you didn’t like this. you liked things you could control, things you could fix. this was completely out of your hands, and you found yourself praying to the gods on behalf of lord walder frey. things really have gone downhill. you spared a glance to robb, to find him already looking at you. he gives you a small nod, which you return, and you move to start heading back to the camp.

you can’t really say why this is the thing that made you so anxious, but you need to keep it together. robb needs dependability, so you did the one thing you were good at. staying busy. there was never a shortage of things to do or problems to fix, and you happened to be especially good at keeping the camp running smoothly. you had no doubt robb would find you once catelyn returned, providing you with an answer — or, with something that needed a solution.

“We’ve been granted crossing.”

you turn around, seeing robb walk in the tent you’re in. he’s got a mixed expression of relief, and the usual cloak of exhaustion & grief that doesn’t seem to leave his face much these days. there’s something else wavering underneath all of it, but you leave that discussion for later.

you exhale, nodding, and you send a silent thanks to the gods. you turn, moving to continue your organization of the maps. most were unorganized, half of them outdated, and they all could use a rewrite.

“Not without a price, I’m sure.”

your words weigh much more heavily than you intended, meant as a jest to the ever prickly walder frey. you’re messing with the scrolls, waiting for a reply. but you don’t get one. robb has hesitated.

that makes you stop your ministrations. you and robb could always talk to each other about everything. you were each others outlet, and conversation always flowed easily — even if there was grievous news, he never hesitated. you turn around, looking at him, and finally, you recognize the micro expression you saw when he first came in.

guilt.

a soft call of his name brings him out of his head, and squeezes his heart at the same time. how can he do this? can he even bring himself to look at you? he’s on autopilot, hand moving by itself to close the flaps of the tent behind him. he turns back to face you, and the expression you wear almost makes his knees buckle. how can he? how can he do this?

“Don’t scare me. I hate when you scare me.”

he knows. he remembers how he used to jumpscare you as children, until you told him (with tears in your eyes) not to — and he found himself wanting to heed your every wish. the next time theon scared you, it was robb you sought out. he pranked theon to make you feel better (oh, how you laughed). why does it have to be him? why him to do it?

“Lord Walder Frey has granted us crossing through the twins,” he exhales. “but not without price.”

all of your attention is on him, and for the first time, robb doesn’t relish in it.

“I must take Olyvar Frey as a squire, a knighthood is expected in due course.”

you watch him intently, waiting to listen to whatever’s made him hesitant to talk to you. doesn’t he know you’re steadfast, in it for the long run?

“Arya, when recovered, will marry one of Lord Walders sons.”

“She’ll like that.” the mere mention of arya is enough to make you smile. he finds himself returning it. you look so pretty when you smile. how can he make you do anything but? how?

“And…” he trails off. he’s gripping his gloves so hard his knuckles turn white. how can he? can he even?

“And must take one of Lord Walders daughters to wife.”

the tranquility melts off your face. your smile is nowhere to be found. he has. he did.

he can see the gears in your head turning. your expression morphs into sadness, grief. he watches you try and steady your breathing. can he reach out for you? is that his place anymore?

you’re nodding, as if you expected this as a possibility, but the tears welling up in your eyes betray you.

“We… we can cross, that’s…” you swallow down your cries. “that’s good.”

you’re picking at your hands now. you do that when you try and hold yourself together. it’s not working.

robb isn’t fairing much better. if you took your attention off of choking back your sobs, you’d see his expression is helpless. painful. he understands your pain, he feels it tenfold. when did his eyes get so wet?

“I need…” you pause as if you don’t even know. “I need you to go.”

he whispers your name. he wants you in his space. he wants you closer, and you want him away. he begins to take steps towards you without even realizing it.

“Robb, please,”

“Don’t make me…”

“I need you to leave. Please.”

all the times you’ve pulled him towards you echo in his mind. now you’re pushing him away. he’s approaching you. you have a hand on your stomach, trying to steady yourself. you sense his presence, putting a hand out to the side he’s standing on. he’s slightly behind you, trying with everything he has to respect your wishes. his heart wins. his giant, aching heart.

he puts a hand on the one you have outstretched in a poor attempt to keep him away.

“Robb-” you begin, tensing up. you tense at his touch. his.

“Don’t.”

he’s never been a good listener.

he reaches for you. at first you pull away, cries of his name spill from your mouth as your voice breaks. he doesn’t stop. you melt into him.

selfishly, you find comfort in his arms. you grip him like he could disappear. he’s not disappearing. he’s leaving.

you are touching another woman’s husband.

they will share a bed.

he is not yours.

they will share a soul.

his heart is, but his body never will be. and isn’t it all the same, at the end of the day?

Listen, no one ever said he wasn’t welcome to join us 😘

real talk do you think theon gets jealous when robb starts spending time with reader instead of him

ouhhhhhyhyhh lord y’all keep blessing me with these asks. this is so interesting thank u for giving my brain this delicious food

so, it really depends on the dynamic i think. do you mean it in a romantic context? is there romantic subtext? or is it just platonic jealousy in pure theon fashion?

either way the answers about the same, because god knows theon is just incapable about recognizing his feelings toward robb. “He owed me a smile that day.” YOU ARE GAY!!

to be real with y’all (we keep it 💯💯 here) i write robb x reader with the childhood friends to lovers dynamic in mind. it’s my blueprint, and unless stated otherwise in a request/ask or it’s different for the plot, that’s how i’m imagining their relationship came to be, and i write with that intention in mind.

so, with that dynamic, being childhood friends with the starks means theon included, and robb & reader have loved each other for sooooo long. it’s kinda just always how it’s been, so it’s normal for theon to spot them spending a lot of time together. it’s the norm if that makes sense

but, if it was different and robb just started spending a bunch of time with reader, theon would definitely get jealous. he wouldn’t even recognize it, just feel irrationally angry and frustrated. would definitely let it fester (because he doesn’t recognize it, so he can’t fix it) and take it out on reader 💔 dirty looks, angrily telling you off if you ask if he needs help, and he would just give robb the silent treatment (with a sprinkle of attitude)

but it can definitely be fixed!! with a conversation between him and robb & him and you, some adjustments, and things would go back to normal/be okay !

…yea, he says he’s sleeping but he’s just waiting till I’m off guard and he eats me out

I love robb’s hair more than anything tbh. imagine him needing comfort n just sitting between reader’s legs, head on their stomach while they just play with his hair 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

yes yes yes yes YES. YES!!

i love his hair. the auburn curls, they’re so pretty. and you just know robb loves having his hair played with. he could be stressing about the most politically complicated shit ever, and as soon as your nails are scratching at his scalp, he just melts into you. groaning from the tension leaving his body, almost shuddering at the feeling.

sometimes, he just needs you. needs your comfort, your reassurance, and you’re more than happy to offer it to him. he can be stubborn at times, refusing to sleep because he has too much to do and “cannot afford it”. all you gotta do is gently coax him to lay down with you for just a minute — for you really, definitely not him. he says he knows what you’re doing, and you’re not half as sly as you think you are. he gives in. every time.

it doesn’t take long. he lies between your legs, head on your stomach as your fingers run through his curls. his arms are wrapped around your waist, and he says he’s not sleeping. just “resting” his eyes. he’s asleep in record time.

Only a Stark would get me off with a goddamn sword

cheeky anon here to slay the day - basically I was chatting to my friend abt Jon Snow and I was like 'yeah he's got a cool sword.... a cool.... sword....'

and then I started thinking abt Jon whipping Longclaw out whenever his girl is being bratty (obvs not in a stabby way) and just like... using the handle on her? 😭

'there's a good girl, not so rowdy now, are y'?'

idk bro im just a longwhore for longclaw

cheeky anon… you are such a genius for this. i am genuinely drooling. THE DIALOGUE? ITS SO ACCURATE? HELLO BECOME A WRITER

you’re pent up. frustrated that nothing has gone your way all day. you’re fidgeting, like you always do when you don’t know how to fix what’s bothering you. your usual solution is to busy yourself until you feel better, but it’s late at night. you can’t unwind, and even worse, you can’t distract yourself. jon eventually has enough of seeing you squirm.

he pulls you to his lap, and he knows what you need. it’s not long before you’re relaxing, sighing into his lips because gods, he’s fixing it. he’s still dressed, longclaw sheathed to his waistband — and that’s when he gets an idea. his hands move to your hips, pulling you closer, and your clothed cunt bumps against longclaws handle. you sharply inhale, small sparks of pleasure coursing through you. you go to move off of the handle, embarrassed, but jon’s firm grip keeps you in place. you look up at him with parted lips, and you watch his pupils dilate.

“You trust me?”

you nod, and he moves to rearrange you both. he takes off his shirt, leaving him bare-chested as he leaves his bottom half covered, with longclaw still attached waist. you undress yourself, eager for relief, and whatever jon has in mind. you swallow, unsure, but he reaches out for you and pulls you to him. his hands find purchase on your hips as your lips connect, and slowly, he guides you against the handle — adjusting the angle to make it hit you just right. you whimper his name at the unfamiliar feeling, and jon feels blood instantly rush to his cock. you put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, burying your moans in the crook of his neck. warmth pools in your abdomen as longclaws handle catches on your pearl, and you hear jon’s voice close to your ear.

“There’s a good girl… not so rowdy now, are y’?”

you sigh, pleasure raking up your spine. jon bites back a groan at seeing your slick cover longclaws handle, and he watches your frustration melt away with every rock of your hips — his hands smoothing over any part of your skin he can reach. he hums at the way you melt into him.

“‘Js needed some help, huh?”

*Not me with my hands tied over my head* I’m all yours, Lord Stark

(ok yeah ive sent like 4 asks already this morning IDGAF!!! it’s squidward anon btw i simply couldnt hold my thoughts in any longer. i’ll relinquish my time on the floor after this one🤭)

something something riding cregan for the first time😼 he’s just sooo BIG. and he works so hard, with the war coming up, he never rests enough or ever relaxes. he’s just got his pretty little wife (in comparison to him. literally u could be 6 feet tall and he still just engulfs you lawd.) who’s ready to go after a long day of not seeing each other and just climbs into his lap when he sits to take his boots off. a lil grinding (good for the soul) and making out and u can just tell he’s sooo tired. soft groans and sighs as u rake ur hands thru his hair and massage his scalp a lil. just the feeling of u in his lap has him like… boneless. lord he hasnt even put it in and ur both close 😭 so when u just unlace his trousers enough to slip him out and finally sit on him it’s like. lord he’s gonna break ur hip w that grip!!! oh and dont think u have control btw! if u think his ass isnt pickinng u up and dropping u back down on his cock girllll……. also thinks there’s nothing lovelier than his beloved wife, truly the most important thing in his life, on top of him. also the both sitting up pos is SOO personal😭 like ur breathing each other’s air and just sighing and moaning into each other’s mouths. u try to bury ur head in creagans neck and a big hand comes to the back of ur neck LLORDDD HOLD ON THE VISION!!! his arms wrapped around u, one across ur hips to guide u and the other around ur upper back to keep his grip on the back of ur neck to just keep u as close as possible. none of that leaning back and letting it happen.

ok yeah. need to take a WALK.

squidward anon i love u. i love u i love u i love u. THIS IS. ARFGH. JUST TAKE OVER MY BLOG AT THIS POINT. (also send five more asks pls my inbox is forever open!!!)

i so agree with the exhaustion thing. that’s how it happens the first time. with the realm in shambles he’s got so much to attend to. readying his grey beards to march, making sure the people have enough food for winter, usual lord duties & guarding the wall on top of that. omfg.

he’s so tired… but he also wants you — and you need him. you’re practically aching. he takes off his cloak, his gloves, and sheds most of his outer layers that protect him from the cold. he sits to take off his boots & that’s when you saunter over. greeting him with a small hug, and his head falls against your chest as he sighs. you can almost feel the exhaustion radiating off of him. he shifts after a moment, pulling you down onto his lap & connecting his lips with yours. he can’t help it, he needs to feel you. he sighs, deepening the kiss.

“Cregan..” you whine his name against his lips. “want you.”

his response is quick. “Have me.”

he slips his tongue in your mouth, and your hips begin to grind against his clothed cock. he groans at the feeling, his hands groping at the soft flesh of your waist. your hands rake through his hair, massaging lightly at his scalp & giving the occasional tug. he’s pliant, yet in control even in his exhaustion. he’s more reactive than normal, giving you breathless sighs & soft groans at your small ministrations.

you break the kiss, moving your hips off of him and cregan can feel the frustration bubbling beneath his skin. he wants you closer. as close as you can get. he’s about to pull you back to him when he sees your hands go to fumble with the laces of his trousers, and he grasps your intent. you unlace them just enough to free his cock, and his inhale at the feeling of your hand around him is sharp enough to cut butter. you don’t have to undress, already bare beneath your night-shift, a loose fitting robe that does a poor job of concealing anything. not that you’d ever hide from cregan, anyways.

you guide him to your entrance, sinking down on him, and cregans brows harden, eyes closing as a grunt spills from his lips. his hands are on your hips, hard in their grip, but he can’t help it. you’re killing him here. he sinks to the hilt, and you both take a moment to catch your breath. you’re tight, warm & wet around him, and he’s filled you, that delicious stretch that you love so much making you hiss.

“Let me see you.”

you hum in acknowledgment at his words, hand moving to undo the poorly tied center lace of your night-shift. as you do this, his hand comes to aid in sliding the material off of your shoulder. there’s something exhilarating about you being fully bare, and cregan remaining still fully clothed.

his hands begin to guide you, setting you up & down on his cock. you help where you can, lifting yourself when he guides you to do so. the pleasure is almost overwhelming, hot flames of desire licking up your spine at each drag of his cock. his hand comes to cradle your jaw, bringing you closer to connect your lips. your mouths move against each other, small moans & gasps exchanging between the both of you. he adjusts the angle, making his cock hit that spot that makes you whine, tensing with pleasure.

your head falls to the crook of his shoulder, muffling your moans against his skin. the hand that was cradling your jaw slides down to the back of your neck, keeping you flush against him.

& in this moment, cregan can’t think of anything he loves more than his wife. his sweet, gorgeous wife that just makes the loveliest noises when he’s sheathed deep inside her, and looks the prettiest when she’s cumming.

*toe curl activate*

sneak peak 🙂‍↕️