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zanephillips · 5 months
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RICHARD MADDEN as Peter Leigh Oasis (2017)
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richardmaddendaily · 1 year
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CITADEL “The Human Enigma” (1.01)
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luvinescent · 5 months
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Entangled Fates
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Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader
Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.
Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.
Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)
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In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.
“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.
Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.
Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.
She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.
Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.
“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.
She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.
Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.
For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.
Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.
Dorea named her Y/N.
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As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.
“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.
Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths.  Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.
It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.
Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.
“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.
“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.
Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.
Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.
Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.
I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.
Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.
She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.
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And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.
Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.
Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.
The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.
“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.
“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.
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As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.
“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.
“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”
“Well, according to his letter, yes.”
Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.
“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.
A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.
Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”
The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.  
“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “
“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”
“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”
Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, “No. I have children.”
Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.
“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.
Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.
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Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.
Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.
“Why is that?” Robb questioned.
“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.
After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.
“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.
Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.
Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.
Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.
“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.
Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.
“Yes. Of course, Robb”.
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Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.
She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.
Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.
“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.
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Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.
“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.
“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.
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As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.
“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.
Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.
“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.
A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.
“You can become a Stark”.
Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “
Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.
Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.
“No.”
Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “
“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.
The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.
Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.
Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.
“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.
She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.
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Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.
“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.
Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”.  Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.
For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.
The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.
“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.
He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”.  She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.
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Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.
“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.
Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her.  A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.
“Do you love him?”.
She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.
The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “
“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.
Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.
Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.
Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.
Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.
“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.
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Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.
“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.
Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “
“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.
“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”
Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.
A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”
Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.
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baltharino · 8 months
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sideblogofhell · 6 months
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a dance with the enemy
summary: ikaris is recruting eternals in hiding but you're unwilling to take him without a fight pairing: ikaris x male reader word count: 1.4k warnings: 18+ warning, oral and anal, reader is an eternal (non specified powers but they can absorb energy) ikaris is a villain here duh, hate sex? a/n: the writer's block is killing me send help
masterlist | the repentant's corner
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His hands on your wrists were tight, fingers digging deep into your skin, creating coils of red. You looked up at him with your varied height, his blue eyes now a bright gold. You tried to escape him, writhing underneath his grasp. His brown hair was tousled and wet, the lone streak of gray plastered on his forehead.
"Why do you have to make this so difficult," he said. 
He was stronger and faster. You knew that escaping him would not be possible. The only way to get free of him was to use his own weakness, his pride. "Arishem's golden boy, have you come to finally kill me?"
"Not kill. I need you to join me," Ikaris said, his face so close you could feel his breath on your lips.
"And leave my life behind?" You pleaded. "No."
"I never wanted this for any of us," he said, pulling away. You massage your thumbs on your aching wrists. He stopped, panting while his eyes faded to a light blue. "But it needs to be done."
"Then show me why I should," you said. Ikaris swiftly cups your face, his lips crashing onto yours. His lips were warm and plump, his hands large and strong against your cheeks. You wanted to pour yourself onto him, let your mind and body betray you just for once.
But you pushed him away. His lips were swollen and shiny against the lights, his eyes bloodshot and welling with tears. Your heart pounded, almost painful. You tried to whisper a word, but unidentifiable syllables came out. 
Let go, you thought. You crashed back into Ikaris' embrace, his arms around your waist while your lips met his. The stubble of his jaw pricked your skin as his kiss fell on your neck. Teasing and nibbling with his lips and tongue. The wetness on your neck, mixed with the air, made you shiver. Ikaris chuckled under his breath, a teasing laugh. 
"We shouldn't," he whispered. He's right. Nothing about this is sincere. Nothing about it is birthed from affection. It's simply a temporary pleasure, a scratch to an itch. It shouldn't feel right. 
You pushed him hard against the wall, cracks forming. You kiss him again, this time more rabid, lip-biting, nails digging into his shoulders. His hands were firm on your waist, pushing hard enough it could break human bones. "We really shouldn't."
Your lips kiss down his stubble neck, your flesh hit against his jugular. A hand guiding your way. You could bite him now, strangle him, take a knife to his veins, and finally end him. Instead, you suck on his skin, a moan leaves his lips, mouth agape from pleasure.
He takes off his jacket, leaving a tight blue shirt that shapes around his muscles. Your hands find the hems, seeking what is underneath. You smooth your palms against his taut abdomen, littered with soft hair. Your fingertips trace each ridge. 
You go on your knees to give his skin a kiss and have a taste of his pale skin. Your tongue teases the hem of his jeans, the barrier between modesty and eroticism. You palm the growing bulge. He takes over and unbuckles his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping so he can take out his sex.
"Just take me in," he pleaded. He pulls your mouth in with much force. The walls of your mouth envelop his well-endowed sex. You gag from the sudden movement, eyes welling with tears. His hands smooth on your hair, gripping on it as he fucks your mouth. 
Saliva coats his cock, which is aching hard. He would occasionally pull out, the head aching red and the tip leaking. There was no regard for your body. You were simply a means to pleasure. 
You back out, coughing up saliva while the roof of your mouth aches. You stagger to find balance. Ikaris' eyes are dark, his lips taut. 
"Where's your bed?" He asked. 
You find yourselves naked on top of each other, limbs entangled, hair messy as your bodies are drenched with sweat. Ikaris' body casts a shadow on top of you, his broad shoulders perfectly flexed as his arms pinned yours. Your legs placed on his waist, his erection teasing your hole. 
He spits on his hand, lubing his cock before pushing it in you. There was a sharp pain, eliciting a loud shriek from you, your hands wrapping around his neck. He takes a few moments to make you settle on his size. He is panting on top of you, his hairy chest rising and falling, his muscles contracting and relaxing. 
He moves his hips, his head falling on the crook of your neck as he thrusts. "You're so tight," he moaned. You gasp from the pressure. You swore you could feel your body tremble. He pushes again, and this time, your body finally acclimated. He hit a spot inside you that drew out a moan of pleasure. Your sex ached hard on your abdomen, leaving a drop of pleasure.
He wrapped his arms around you, large biceps around your body, your fingers scratching at his broad back, leaving lines of red. For a second, you thought of the embrace as a result of love, something couples would do in sex. But then he forces a strong thrust, a gasp leaving your mouth. And suddenly, it was just sex. 
It took a great deal of restraint on Ikaris' part. His strength could crush you. He felt his body lose control, his eyes becoming warm and lighting up in gold. Your body felt so fragile in his arms, so delicate and feeble. 
You cursed under your breath, your eyes rolling back in euphoria. Intricate patterns of gold laced your hands. You could burn him if you wished. Cosmic energy laced your bodies and, if uncontained, could send ripples of destruction around you. 
He pulled onto you so you could switch positions. He took time to straddle his muscular thighs as he slowly guided himself in you. You palmed his chest, a hand finding his throat. You pressed your fingers in, wrapping around his neck, constricting his breathing.
His hips ram into you at an accelerated pace, and your body does the same. You rode him until he was tearing through the sheets with his hands, the bed creaking, his form sinking into the mattress. He lets out exasperated groans, the veins on his neck more prominent, his face burning red. 
You feel each other's climax coming. Ikaris pulls you back into a kiss, a greedy kiss, one that is meant only for the finality of the act. He pushes deeper as you ride him, his tip hitting the sweet spot inside you that only draws your pleasure to excess. 
"I'm gonna cum in you," he demanded. "And you'll take it like the good boy you are."
"I'm not your good boy," you said, pulling on his brown locks. You were on high ground. The command is with you, not him. "I'll finish whenever I like."
His face contorted into a headless cry, his eyes shut, and his lips open. You were close, too close. Teetering into climax like an overflowing glass of water. "Fuck," Ikaris groans. "I'm so fucking close."
"Look into my eyes," you said. 
"I can't," he said, the veins around his eyes a glimmering gold. 
"Fine," you said. "I'll just leave you like this," Ikaris slowly opened his eyes, a hazy gold. You moved your hips in sync with his. His grip grew harder, his body more flexed. You could feel the energy burn through his eyes. If he let go, he could easily hurt you. 
Ikaris cursed as he came inside you. Shining bright light through his eyes that burned through the ceiling. You shuddered as you came as well, your hands glowing with gold as you sucked in his power. Slowly, Ikaris' light faded, coursing through the veins of your hands. The increased energy surging through your body crashed into you like a potent drug. 
Ikaris passed out long after. The strongest Eternal, asleep in your bed. The room was obviously a mess, sheets torn, bed broken, ceiling burnt. He looked peaceful, though. His long lashes lay softly on his cheeks, his lips barely pursing to let out air. A slight pang hit your chest when you took the call.
"I have him," you said. You finally have the enemy. 
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blackthornluce · 2 months
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Richard Madden as Robb Stark Game of Thrones (2011-2019)
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supercap2319 · 3 months
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"I'm gonna fuck you. I'm gonna fuck you all ... night, Y/N." Ikaris grins as Y/N entered the apartment. The young man glanced around the room and saw empty bottles of whiskey and bourbon.
"Not that I don't love hearing those words come from your mouth, but are you drunk?"
Ikaris pinched the air. "Little bit." He giggled to himself.
"Come on, let's get you to bed." Y/N said.
"Ooh, good idea. The beds where I'll fuck you." Ikaris fumbled and stumbled as he flew down the hallway, hitting everything on the way to the bedroom.
Y/N sighed. "Oh boy."
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lobinilo · 8 months
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Disney live action couples + dancing
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lookingforketrick · 11 months
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d4rkpluto · 9 months
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𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰
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♇ so before i explain all grand trines, i'll explain "what" a grand trine is.
♇ a grand trine occurs when 3-4 or more, planets/axis/important asteroids [eg. juno, lilith, chiron etc] within the same elements [fire, earth, air and water] are situated in 120°, what the planets do to each other is that they electrify and energise each other so they activity and the themes of the planets/elements/signs can work at its best.
♇ when someone has a grand trine, whatever they put effort in, [especially when the goal/theme has something to do with the element the planets are in, for example, air = learning/communicating], it will come effortlessly for them and will be a strong strength and gift.
[how to check if you have a grand trine astro-charts].
FIRE GRAND TRINES
celebrities who have a fire grand trine ⬎ 
⟶ elizabeth taylor, richard madden and whitney houston.
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elizabeth taylor has her grand trine in venus in aries, uranus in aries, jupiter in leo and ascendant in sagittarius.
richard madden has his grand trine in midheaven in aries, ascendant in leo, venus in leo and saturn in sagittarius.
whitney houston her grand trine in moon in aries, jupiter in aries, sun in leo, venus in leo and midheaven in sagittarius.
♇ having a fire grand trine increases the characteristics of an individual to show and spread warmth, optimism and joy for life. they are very ambitious for the future, and fire grand trine people can easily influence people, [intentionally or unintentionally, it'll still happen].
♇ however, as this is the fire element working at it's best, they can be very impulsive and chaotic people if they do not have any squares in their chart. due to them being people who are chaotic and abrupt, they're likely people who are not aware of the risks that might come with their actions and outcomes.
♇ majority of the time, these people don't let fear stop them from achieving their goals, these people are about action and commotion, they like to feel alive thus why they always involve themselves into projects.
♇ they can be very reckless people, and might always think that luck is on their side so they cannot get in trouble. due to them always liking action and excitement, they like to create drama so they can be entertained.
EARTH GRAND TRINES
celebrities who have a earth grand trine ⬎ 
⟶ zendaya, brendan fraser and elizabeth olsen.
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zendaya has her grand trine in moon in taurus, sun in virgo and jupiter in capricorn.
brendan fraser has his grand trine in moon in taurus, pluto in virgo, venus in capricorn and midheaven in capricorn.
elizabeth olsen has her grand trine in mars in taurus, ascendant in virgo, saturn in capricorn and neptune in capricorn. [she is also an air grand trine].
♇ having an earth grand trine makes someone protective with what they have materially and physically earned. they like to be financially independent, [and independent in many other themes of their lives], and they like to be secure with themselves.
♇ they're people who like to create and invent things, they perceive it as their way of growing as a person, in knowledge, financially and skill. these people are work-oriented and financially and security driven, they like to be in a comfortable place, but sometimes it might always cause them to always want to be doing something and actually never being comfortable in their situation.
♇ they are down to earth people, and like to be in connection with their soul and the outside world. they like a balance. they know how to take care of themselves and know how to tender to other people, they're nurturing and don't like to hold that side of them back.
AIR GRAND TRINES
celebrities who have an air grand trine ⬎ 
⟶ mackenzie foy, ciara and sharon tate.
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mackenzie foy has her grand trine in jupiter in gemini, mars in libra, neptune in aquarius and midheaven in aquarius.
ciara has her grand trine in chiron in gemini, venus in libra, midheaven in libra and jupiter in aquarius.
sharon tate has her grand trine in saturn in gemini, uranus in gemini, neptune in libra, sun in aquarius and mercury in aquarius.
♇ when someone has an air grand trine, they are people who immediately learn things that stimulate their mind, on the other hand it doesnt necessarily need to be things that stimulate their mind, they're people who can easily catch on with patterns and systems of a subject.
♇ they like to learn and experience situations, and other people's situations as well, they're the type of people who were students that rarely noted down anything, and just vibed with what was being taught.
♇ having an air grand trine strengthens the individuals interest and curiosity for everything, they over-work themselves because they want to become a jack of all trades.
♇ as figured, they want and like mental stimulation, and they like to discuss and debate with other people. but they get bored easily, especially when other people are conversing with them, which can make other people insecure about their verbal entertainment. and might think that the air grand trine person thinks of them to be a boring person, which is usually true.
WATER GRAND TRINES
celebrities who have an water grand trine ⬎ 
⟶ ariana grande, jensen ackles and marilyn monroe.
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ariana grande has her grand trine in sun in cancer, midheaven in scorpio and saturn in pisces.
jensen ackles has his grand trine in mars in cancer, uranus in scorpio and venus in pisces.
marilyn monroe has her grand trine in north node in cancer, saturn in scorpio and mars in pisces.
♇ those who have water grand trines can be very dependent people, they're people who have needs that usually are needed to be tended to or met. they are people who need to feel secure like earth grand trines, but with water grand trines it is usually emotional security that they need and is important for them.
♇ they're protective of others, and themselves, which can either lead them to be people who are closed off, or people who wear their heart on their sleeves. compared to the other elemental grand trines, [fire, earth and air], water grand trines are better at processing their emotions than other people.
♇ they know how to present themselves, and even if they process their emotions better than other people, they could have a hard time being about to "communicate" how they feel, unless there are some air energy playing into their charts, or even earth.
♇ these water grand trines are very creative, and they can use that as a way to display their emotions for other people to understand. expressing it through music or art, thus why people could view most water grand trines are musical experts/musically creative.
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1038276637 · 11 months
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Richard Maddenas Mason Kane in Citadel (2023)
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asongofmarvelanddc · 10 months
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Duty PT6
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PAIRING: Robb Stark X Reader
WORD COUNT: 5642
WARNINGS: none :)
SUMMARY: The Queen considers whether it is time to move on with her life, but the past is not so easily buried.
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 4 ½ | PART 5 | PART 5½
MASTERLIST | ROBB STARK MASTERLIST
A/N: All will be revealed in time 👀 Please reblog, comment or send an ask so I can hear what you think! Really hope you enjoy this one 🫶🏾🥰
The rain up North is nothing like the summer showers you experienced back home. This rain stings and bites at your skin as it falls, but it doesn't send you back inside under the shade.
Today is the first time in a few days that you have been outside, breathing in the fresh air. Your moon blood came particularly harsh this time around and left you bedridden for two days. It was a terrible ordeal, but it allowed you to see another side to your husband.
This morning, you awoke with no pains. Although your body is still tired and weak, here you stand, in the rain, embracing the Northern cold and eagerly awaiting nightfall because surprisingly, you have missed spending your evenings with Robb.
Your thoughts are interrupted by Amiria calling your name.
"My Lady, what are you doing out in the cold?" she sounds panicked as she wraps a blanket around your shoulders, "Seven hells! You'll make yourself ill!"
You chuckle as you welcome the blanket and follow her back under the shade, "It's alright, I wasn't out there for long."
Amiria runs the blanket over your damp hair. "It is a good thing I found you. Any longer and you might catch a fever," she presses the back of her hand to your cheek, "You have just been unwell, you should not tempt fate, my Lady."
"I apologise, I did not mean to worry you," you smile warmly and give her a short hug to reassure her, "Found me? Were you looking for me?"
"Yes, Lady Stark has requested your presence in her quarters."
You're taken aback by this. Lady Stark, though pleasant since the wedding, has never once asked to speak to you alone.
"Did she tell you why she wants to see me?"
Amiria looks up at you and chuckles when she sees the nervousness that has settled into you.
"Don't be afraid," she says in a tone that suggests your anxiety is amusing to her, "She did not seem to be in a terrible mood."
"That is good," you breathe a sigh of relief, but your eyes remain apprehensive.
Amiria smirks and takes you by the arm, pulling you towards your chambers, "Come. Let us get you dry for the Queen Mother."
***
As soon as you enter the parlour, Catelyn rises to greet you at the door, embracing you before you even have a chance to curtsey. When she releases you, her smile turns into a frown as she cups your face with her hands.
"You still look a bit unwell, darling," she says, looking between your eyes, a hint of pity in her voice, "Come and sit, let us have some tea. Perhaps it will help you feel better."
You follow her to where a small table is set with all your favourite treats and a teapot to share between the two of you. She takes a seat in an armchair on one side of the table and you sit opposite her on the other side of the table. Without a word she begins to pour the tea for the both of you.
"Does it normally trouble you so?" she asks as she hands you a cup.
You take a grateful sip, smiling when that familiar warmth begins spreading in your chest. "Sometimes the Mother offers mercy and my bloods pass painlessly," you say, "Other times I am confined to my bed chambers for some days."
"Poor girl," her forehead wrinkles when she frowns, "I'll speak to Maester Luwin about giving you something that might take away your pain."
"Thank you, my Lady."
There's a pause in the conversation as you sip the mint tea and enjoy the warmth of the fire burning. Your worries begin to fade away as you relax in Catelyn's company.
“I see you’ve been spending much more time with my son as of late,” she says, breaking the silence, “I hear you’re with him in his study into the late hours of the night.”
It's an abrupt turn from your initial conversation, but you suppose it is normal for her to ask about her son.
“We talk mostly. Sometimes I sew while he works.”
A thin smile forms on Catelyn’s lips as she hums in response, “And what is it that you talk about?”
The question catches you off guard. It’s a bit impolite to ask about private conversations, but you would never dare to point out such a thing to your good-mother.
“I tell him about my family, what it was like growing up in the South,” you say hesitantly, “He talks about you, his family…his father and sisters.”
You can’t help but pity her when you see how she deflates at the mention of her lost family. Her eye twitches as she looks away, trying to stop her mask from slipping.
“He tells me stories about all of them as children,” a tender smile forms on your lips as you think back to the conversations, “It makes me wish I had siblings of my own to fight and play with.”
Catelyn nods again, but her smile seems even more strained than before. Your brows furrow in concern as you reach out to touch her knee.
“Lady Stark?”
She presses one hand to her lips, taking a moment to collect herself. Not a single tear falls from her eyes, though they come close. After only a few seconds, she blows out a breath and sits up properly in her chair, composed once again.
“He rarely talks about them with me,” she whispers, eyes downcast.
“I think he finds it easier to talk about them with someone who doesn’t know them,” you reassure her, “I assume it feels more like recalling a fond memory to a stranger than it does reminiscing about loved ones he’s lost.”
She nods her head, though she seems unconvinced. You can’t imagine the pain and fear she must be feeling knowing that her son has made an enemy of the same family who have her daughters in their grasp. That he is in open rebellion against the King who took her husband's head.
"He must trust you quite a bit."
You consider it for a moment, "I hope so. I would like to think he does."
"How have you been finding all of this? Being here, married to Robb?"
It is not a simple question to answer. In truth, you did not expect this much time to pass with your heart still refusing to fully open to Robb, nor his to you. Your mother always told you that falling in love is quick and simple, and in the past you found that to be true. But for some reason, it is slow and difficult with Robb.
A month since your wedding and you still hold each other at arms' length, merely allowing glimpses into your souls on occasion.
Instead of telling her an outright lie, you choose to focus on the good. "Your family have been so accommodating, as has Robb," you plaster a smile on your lips, "It has taken some time to adjust, but everyone has been so kind."
Judging by the look on Catelyn's face, she knows that you are hiding something. She doesn't come across as the kind of woman who is fooled easily.
“This may be crude of me, but I must ask," she begins, leaning forward ever so slightly, "This is your second time on the bloods since the wedding?"
It only takes you a second to decipher what exactly she is asking. You nod quickly, suddenly very uncomfortable.
"Have you and Robb–?"
"We have not."
"The marriage is unconsummated?"
You nod again, averting your gaze in embarrassment. Catelyn looks off to the side, deep in thought. Each passing second only serves to make your stomach turn and your palms sweat.
Eventually, she turns back to you, but there is no anger nor shame in her eyes, only determination.
"I truly do not wish to make you uncomfortable, but I must stress the importance of your consummation." She speaks in a matter-of-fact tone that is only slightly intimidating.
"Your marriage is not valid until the act is done. And I need not remind you of your duty to each other as husband and wife, and as rulers of the North."
Children.
"I understand."
"Then why, may I ask, are you waiting?"
This time, there is a hint of frustration in her tone. She looks at you with eyes so piercing that for a moment you forget that you are not a child being scolded by her Septa. Yet, it is somehow worse because the person asking the question is your good-mother.
"We only wish to know each other better before we–" you cut yourself off to find the right words, "There is still time–"
"There is no time," Catelyn's patience seems to have worn thin, "Robb will return to the frontline before long. And only the gods know if he will come back."
That thought sends a chill down your spine. Robb may not be some great love, but the mere idea of his demise makes your heart sink to your stomach.
"I have been in your shoes before, Y/N," she says, her tone softer, "I did not know Ned very well when I first met him. I certainly didn't love him either. That comes with time."
Her words are optimistic. Reassuring. And they get you thinking.
"We all have our roles to play. It is time you and Robb started doing your part."
***
"She wants us to consummate."
Amiria sits on a stool beside your bath, washing all the grease and dirt out of your hair while you soak in the warm water.
"But His Grace said that you do not have to if you don't wish to, no?" she asks.
You sigh deeply, "That is true. But I'm starting to believe that she may be right."
The longer you think about her words, the more they cut deep. You have been ignoring the reality of your situation, going through the motions and capitalising on Robb's busy schedule to avoid hard truths.
Robb is your husband now, and the North is your home. That will never change. This is not King’s Landing where you will have to endure for a time and be rescued. This is your life, forever. And deep down in your heart you know that if you are to start a new life, you must let go of the old one.
Without warning, tears begin to well in your eyes and blur your vision. This is not the life you imagined for yourself. To never experience love, you were prepared for – you always knew that your marriage would be arranged, and if love never happened with your husband, you would’ve been content given he was kind and gentle.
But this? To have loved and lost it? To know what it feels like and know that you will never have it again? It’s a pain you would not wish on anyone.
And Robb. He is kind, and he cares…somewhat. But he does not love you. And if he loves Elyse the way you have loved, then you know he will never love you. That is the hard truth.
You bury your head in your hands and let the tears flow. Amiria crouches down beside the bath and wraps her arms around you, letting you sob into her shoulder.
"I hate to see you in such pain, my Lady," she says, her voice thick with emotion.
The day you left King's Landing, your heart was shattered. A part of you has been holding on to him for so long because it is a reminder that what you shared was real. And how could you repay the love he gave by letting it go?
Selfishly, you want him to be happy, to have moved on. You pray that he has forgotten you. Maybe then you would not be riddled with guilt over letting him go. The truth is, you have responsibilities that you can shirk no longer. And you cannot be a good wife with him still in your heart.
With a deep, shaky breath, you pull away from Amiria and wipe your eyes, splashing your face with the bath water to calm yourself down.
Once your heart stops racing and your breathing relaxes, you turn to Amiria, "Could you fetch my robe, please?"
She hesitates momentarily before doing it. You climb out of the bath and slip on the robe, walking to your dresser with Amiria following close behind.
"Help me dress."
Your sudden switch from distress to being resolute is alarming to Amiria. She stares in bewilderment as you begin to get ready. "Where are you going?"
"I always visit Robb in the evenings," you say, "It is the perfect time to raise the topic of consummation."
Amiria places a hand on your shoulder to grab your attention. She looks straight into your eyes and asks sincerely, "Are you sure that you are ready to take that step?"
You know that you are not ready, but you also know that it is time to stop living in the past. It is exhausting, and it hurts you more than it makes you happy. You want to believe that you can be happy here, if you only give it a chance.
"Yes. I'm sure."
***
It’s not a question that Robb has a face any woman would love to look at. You see the way women giggle and blush when he smiles as he walks past them. The way they always seem to crowd when he spars with Ser Rodrik. You understand, you like to look at him too. He’s really quite…beautiful, but it’s more than that.
His guard is never lower than when he is in this solar working, and you like to watch the way he does things when he is not concerned with appearances. These are the moments when you see the truest version of him. His brows knitting together when he reads something particularly unpleasant, the way he occasionally looks up at you and offers a sweet smile. He curses sometimes. It used to shock you, but you find it amusing now.
Your admiration grows the more you see him like this, constantly fighting through mental and physical fatigue to lead his people and be there for his family. When he talks to you about them, you wonder if he has even had time to properly grieve his father, or if that is yet another thing he has pushed aside for the sake of his responsibilities. It breaks your heart to think so.
Most mornings you wake up alone because he is up by the crack of dawn. And at night, you leave him here in this study, working into the late hours. You see the bags under his eyes and the way he pauses every so often to massage his shoulders and neck. He takes on…too much.
Sitting across from him tonight, all you can think about are Catelyn's words. How do you even begin to discuss such a sensitive topic? Especially when he is under so much pressure?
Your mother says it is time we consummated our marriage. Shall we start making love?
Ridiculous.
Robb stops his writing for a moment to crack his knuckles and stretch his back, and as he puts down his writing quill, he looks up and catches you staring. You quickly tear away your gaze, returning to your embroidery and ignoring the rising heat on your neck and chest.
Robb knows you well enough now that he can tell when there is something disturbing you.
"What is on your mind?" he asks, leaning forward to give you his full attention.
This is your opportunity to broach the subject, but for some reason, you are unable to form the words. So you tell him something else.
“Just that I...forgot to tell you something. I went into town the day before I fell ill.”
Robb sits up a little, visibly concerned, “Alone?”
“No, Amiria went with me. And a few guards.”
He relaxes then, leaning forward once again.
“We took some food and clothes to the homes sheltering the children orphaned in this war,” you say, “I wanted to be sure they’re being taken care of.”
He looks pleasantly surprised. “That is very kind of you. I had not thought to do that yet.”
You wave a hand and shake your head. “Of course not. You already have so much on your plate,” you gesture to his cluttered desk, “I have never ran a household much less an entire castle before, so I leave it to your mother. I’m just trying to do what little I can to support your efforts.”
You return to your embroidery, but Robb doesn't take his eyes off you. He knows there is still something eating at you and yet you refuse to say it. Suddenly he's full of regret. Perhaps, if he had not been so determined to dislike you at first, you would not still hide behind your wall.
Eventually, he looks away from you with a sigh, picking up a letter from his unopened pile and breaking the seal. You glance up at him, relieved that he has broken his scrutinising stare.
“What are you reading?” you ask, attempting to change the topic.
“A report from our scouts.”
You sit up properly, now curious, “How goes the search for Arya?”
Robb puts down the letter a little forcefully and run his hands through his hair in frustration. That about tells you all you need to know.
"Have you thought any more about what I suggested? About the Owls?”
This is a conversation that has already been had before. Multiple times. Robb turned down your father's offer, and he has rejected yours as well each time you've brought it up. At this point, he is tired of reiterating his position.
“I have already told you that I have no intention of using them,” his tone is clipped when he speaks, and he attempts to busy himself with other work to end the conversation.
His efforts are futile because you refuse to let it go, “They would be inside the Red Keep within hours of receiving your letter–“
“I don’t want to have this conversation again.”
“–and they would have Sansa on the road back to Winterfell within days.”
“I am not going to use spies.”
“Sansa is not–,” you pause mid-sentence to gather yourself, “Sansa is not safe with Joffrey.”
Robb sighs deeply and rubs his tired eyes with his hands, "Do you think I am unaware of that?”
“I just don’t understand why you won’t use them,” you press, “Do you doubt their capabilities?”
“No, I am sure they are very capa–“
“Because they managed to smuggle me out of King’s Landing without issue,” you cut him off, “Daenerys Targaryen is alive in Essos today because of them.”
“Enough!”
You flinch at the sound of his raised voice. Instantly your heart starts racing, the hairs on your body standing on end. For a second, only a mere second, you are back in King's Landing, and you are terrified.
“I am fighting this war with honour,” he continues, his voice now back to normal, “This is the last time I will have this discussion, do you understand me?”
He stares you down for a few seconds until he thinks you have dropped it. You wait until he relaxes some before speaking.
“Your enemy would pay a starving child two coppers and a loaf of stale bread to poison your supper,” you say in the calmest tone you can muster, “Spying ought not be where you draw the line.”
You rise to your feet and walk to the door, ignoring Robb’s burning gaze. As you place your hand on the handle, you turn to him once more.
“I don’t suppose you will be retiring for the night?”
He begins shuffling some papers on his desk, “No, I still have much to do before the morn.”
You don’t believe him, but you nod anyways. “Very well, then. I shall bid you goodnight.”
Once you step outside and close the door, you lean against the wall of the corridor, sucking in the cold air and placing a hand over your chest to slow your heart. Hot tears burn behind your eyes – not of sadness, but of anger.
It took one word – one little word – and you were back there at the lowest point you've ever been. It's a reminder that all the pain and hurt inflicted by that monster is still inside you. And it hurts that Robb was the one to bring it to the surface.
***
When Robb eventually retires for the night, he half-expects you to be waiting for him, ready to continue the conversation from earlier, so he's surprised to find you curled up under the blankets on your side of the bed.
A few of the candles in the room are still lit – he knows you left them burning for his benefit. He uses the dim lighting to make his way around the room, removing his jerkin shirt as he does so. It gets hot in the room because even with the natural heating from the hot springs, you still insist on having a fire built every night before you sleep. Robb doesn't object to this because he knows you can't sleep in the freezing cold – but it does mean he now sleeps in as little clothes as possible.
He hears you stir when he walks to your side of the room and blows out the candles there, but he ignores it and returns to his side before climbing into the bed. As always, he turns his back to you, stares into the darkness and listens to your breathing.
Steady.
"I know you're awake," he says after a moment.
He's not sure you know that you snore when you sleep. It's not bothersome at all, the sound resembles the light purring of a kitten. On nights where sleep eludes him, the sound helps to calm his mind and lull him into a slumber.
That is how he knows that you are only pretending to sleep.
You don't stir, and after a while he assumes that you are choosing to ignore him. The moment he closes his eyes, he hears your voice call out to him.
"Robb?"
He hums in response, not wanting to seem too eager to reconcile.
"Don't ever raise your voice to me in that manner again."
Your tone is flat and unemotional, but the words are extremely sobering for Robb. He's rendered speechless, and no other words are spoken by either of you that night.
***
The bridge connecting the Great Keep to the Armoury offers the best view of the courtyard in Winterfell. That is where you go to forget your troubles, distracting yourself with the activities happening below you. But even watching the bustling of people fails you this afternoon. All you can think about is the night before.
Deep down you know that you provoked Robb into having that row, simply to avoid having a difficult conversation. You did not realise that was what you were doing until you had some time to yourself. And yet, you cannot seem to stop yourself from thinking about Robb's reaction.
He has never presented himself as a man who is quick to anger.
Neither did Joffrey. Not at first.
You shake those thoughts out of your head almost as soon as you have them. Robb is not like Joffrey, of that you are certain. He is...attentive, in the ways that matter.
Not a single stew or soup has been served to you since you told him about your unusual diet. He found out you enjoy lemon cakes, and before long there was a lemon tree growing in the glass garden. And not once has he complained about the fire you keep burning in your chambers before you sleep even though you know he despises the heat.
Joffrey was never that way, even before he revealed his true colours.
Perhaps this is all you will ever have, you don't have to love him to bear his children. A kind husband is more than most have. Shouldn't that be enough?
It is at this moment that Robb arrives at the top of the bridge, emerging from the armoury with Lord Umber in tow. He sees you standing there, right in the middle of the bridge, looking out onto the courtyard. There's a distant look in your eyes as you stare down, and Robb knows exactly what is weighing on your heart.
You don't notice him or Lord Umber until they are only a few steps away from you, at which point you quickly stand up straight.
"Your Grace," you curtsey to Robb as you always do around other people.
Lord Umber bows his head to you, "Your Grace."
"My Lady, this is Lord Umber. You might remember meeting him at our wedding feast?"
His face is unfamiliar, "My apologies, Lord Umber, I met quite a few people that night."
"No need to apologise, Your Grace," he laughs heartily, "The ale flowed freely that night, I'm not sure I remember our meeting either."
All three of you share a laugh at that, but before the conversation can continue any further, Robb turns to Lord Umber.
"Lord Umber, might you wait for me by my solar? I would like to speak to my wife in private."
"Of course, Your Grace." he bows his head to you both and walks past you towards the Great Keep.
Robb turns to you once you're alone, but he does not speak. He notices that the smile you put on for Lord Umber has faded, and the sadness in your eyes has returned. Your words from the night before play over in his mind, as they have been all morning. He knows that your upset at this present moment is because of him and only him, and for that, he's ashamed.
After a moment, he turns to face the courtyard, arms resting against the railing. You watch him, curious about his troubled expression, before joining him. Your forearm brushes against his as you stand next to him, waiting for him to speak.
"I'm sorry for raising my voice at you," he says, eyes downcast, "I did not mean to frighten you, and I will never do it again."
You didn't expect an apology, not for this. Many men have done worse to their wives without a second thought, but as you glance at Robb out of the corner of your eye, it is clear that he is remorseful. It warms your heart.
"Thank you," you whisper, "And I am sorry too."
"What for?"
"Picking a fight," you look up at him, "I should not have taken your decision so personally."
Robb nods briefly, accepting your apology – one he is surprised to receive because he knows that you still believe he is making the wrong choice.
"I'm trying to be like my father," he explains with a heavy sigh, "I want to fight this war in the most honourable way I can. And if I resort to spying and trickery to win, how would I be any different to my enemies? To Joffrey?"
At those words, you turn your head sharply to look at him. Your eyes soften when they meet his.
"You are a good man, Robb. Nothing like Joffrey."
The hint of a smile plays on his lips.
"I know you don't believe this, but I truly do value your advice," he says, "Even if I don't always agree, I would still like to know your opinion on those choices. Don't ever hesitate to tell me what you think."
You stand side by side, overlooking the courtyard. Down by the guest house, a little boy and girl are wrestling in the mud. Within seconds, a woman who you assume is their mother appears by their side and begins scolding them over their spoiled garments. She pulls them away from the scene by their ears, the two children giggling as she does so.
You and Robb both laugh as this unfolds, revelling in the innocence and mischief of childhood.
"They remind me of Arya and Bran," he says, a mournful look in his eyes.
The same urge to console him when he first opened up to you about his father overwhelms you once again. But instead of drawing back, this time, you place your hand over his, and he welcomes it without hesitation.
You lean against his shoulder and give his hand a comforting squeeze as he absent-mindedly strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. A simple touch but it’s enough to make you wish things were different.
"Do you think we will ever be happy?" you suddenly ask, "The way my mother and father are? The way yours were?"
Robb doesn't know how to respond to that. Mostly because in the midst of this seemingly endless war, he has been unable to envision life beyond it. But judging by your question, you may have started to, so it may be time for him to start as well.
He looks down at you with a thoughtful expression. "I don't know," he answers honestly, "But I hope so."
That makes you smile. You hold his gaze for a moment, only tearing your eyes away when the deep blue of his begin to grow too intense for your comfort.
You chuckle nervously and nod your head towards the Great Keep as you stand up straight, "Lord Umber must be waiting for you."
Robb blinks as if the fact had slipped his mind. "Of course," he says quickly with a bow and you regret that he chose to be so formal.
You watch him as he walks away, but he stops after a few paces and turns back to face you.
"I'm going into town later, I thought you might accompany me if you'd like," his tone is cheery, "I have some business to attend to, but you can visit the market while we're there?"
It is a kind offer, but you simply want to be alone with your thoughts for now.
"I'm afraid I'm not feeling up to it today," you say apologetically, "But I thank you for the invitation."
Robb is disappointed with your answer to say the least, but he does not let it show. Instead, he nods in understanding with a wistful smile and heads back inside, leaving you alone on the bridge.
You turn your attention back to the courtyard, resting your arms on the railing and letting out a deep sigh. That is when you notice the very familiar silhouette of a man.
His back is to you while he talks to another man just outside the armoury. Even though he's far away and you cannot see his face, he looks too familiar.
There is absolutely no chance.
You lean so far forward that only a few inches more and you'd fall over the railing. The man throws his head back and laughs. Instantly a pit forms in your stomach.
You know that laugh.
Your body begins to move faster than you can think. Within seconds you've hitched up your skirts and ran back into the Great Keep. Your heart is beating out of your chest with every step down the stairs. There are no thoughts in your head. All you hear is that laugh and the thumping of your heart.
In the courtyard there's people bustling about everywhere. You want to scream at them to stop moving so that you can see. To stop talking so that you can think. Your shoes and the bottom of your dress are caked in mud as you run from one end of the courtyard to the other, frantically searching for him.
The armoury. He was standing in front of the armory.
You take off running in that direction, stepping in puddles and all kinds of dirt and muck on the way. Once inside, you stop to catch your breath, panting heavily as you look around, hoping to catch sight of him. All you see are large, oily men carrying pounds of steel, shields, armour and all sorts.
You begin to wonder if you only imagined seeing him. Your mind playing some kind of sick trick on you. It wouldn't be surprising considering everything that has happened recently.
Just as you are about to let it go, a hand grabs your shoulder and turns you around.
The black hair. Those blue eyes.
You forget how to breathe for a moment. Completely frozen in shock. It's like the whole building goes silent and all you can hear is your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You're sure he calls your name, but you find yourself incapable of doing anything but stare at him in confusion and awe.
This is not real. This is not real.
You cannot allow yourself to believe that this is happening because the devastation if it's not real is not one you will recover from easily. With a shaky hand, you reach out to touch his face. Before you can even cup his cheek, he takes your hand and leans into it.
A stuttered breath escapes your lips as tears start to flow freely down your cheeks.
"Gendry."
*
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richardgrimes · 1 year
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What sweet singing. Makes me want to tarry just a little. Richard Madden as Prince Kit in CINDERELLA (2015)
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luvinescent · 4 months
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Stealing Time
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Pairing: Modern!Robb Stark x fem!Reader
Summary: Weddings should be an event full of joy and happiness for everyone involved. Especially for the bride and groom, who are the main focal point of it all. So, what is the reason for celebrations if they both have gone missing?
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v, dirty talk, etc.
Word count: 3933
Additional: M/H/N stands for Maid of Honors Name.
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A soft melody of a strong quartet could be heard through the air like a soft breeze as more guests continued to arrive. The venue was decorated with fairy lights that cascaded down, a crystal chandelier in the middle of it all, creating an inviting and dreamy atmosphere. The celebratory music pulsated on the dance floor, enticing visitors to sway and swirl in a joyful celebration. The air was filled with laughter and lively discussions that mixed with the sound of glasses clinking as toasts were being offered in honor of the newlyweds.
The only problem was that neither one of them were present in the room.
Catelyn Stark, mother of the groom, stood scanning the room next to the wedding planner— a young girl who looked to be on the verge of pulling out her hair. Catelyn could hear the small anxious mutters of “we’re off schedule now” as the girl kept analyzing the clipboard she held in her hand. Excusing herself from the girl and her husband, Catelyn went towards the hallways connecting to the venue. She was stopped in her travels by a distant relative on her husbands’ side, smiling at the old man.
“Catelyn!” he greeted heartily. “Where is that boy of yours? I haven’t seen him or the new Mrs.”. He let out a great laugh, holding onto his rounded beer belly for support. Catelyn returned the laugh, nodding at his question, “I was just about to go get him. I’ll be right back”.
She turned around; the sound of her heels clicking on the shiny floor echoed, causing any guests in her path to quickly shift aside. Catelyn walked with a confident stance, her chin up, shoulders back, and a big smile covering her face. A smile that was very deceiving and Jon Snow knew this when she came faced with him.
“Where is your brother?”
He stared wide eyed at her, caught off guard by her presence and her question. His face was a ballet of nervousness, revealing the false confidence he was trying so hard to keep up. “I-I, uh… I don’t know...”, Jon shrugged his shoulder, wincing a little at the look she gave him. Catelyn smacked her lips, grabbing a hold of Jons ear, “Don’t lie to me. Where is Robb? The nerve of that boy! Disappearing at his own wedding, and you covering for him. I thought I raised you both better than this!”. The entire time, the bride’s maid of honor had stood next to Jon, witnessing him get a scolding from his mother, but Catelyn could care less about his embarrassment. Before Catelyn could continue her interrogation, she was stopped by the sound of a familiar voice within her distance. “Have you seen Y/N?”.
Turning around, Catelyn saw the mother of the bride asking a family member before she turned and saw her. “Oh, Cat!”, the mother rushed towards her, “Have you seen my daughter? I can’t find her anywhere”.
Putting back on that wide smile, Catelyn turned her head to Jon and the maid of honor. “What a coincidence. I can’t seem to find my son either.”
The two looked like deer’s caught in headlights. Both their words jumbled out fast, inaudible to the human ear. Thinking fast, M/H/N leaped into action, her words both a hasty attempt and holding a somewhat truth to them. “Y/N went to go change from her wedding gown to her reception dress”. Jon nodded vigorously in agreement at her explanation, “A-And Robb wanted to change his shoes”. M/H/N whipped her neck and gave Jon a glare, his add on not helping as Robb did not bring extra shoes. Y/N’s mother did not have time to question any of what they said—being brisked away to go greet a great aunt.
Catelyn stood in front of the two adults once again. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by their statements.
“Y/N went to go change?”
“Yes”, M/H/N said instantly.
“And Robb went to go change his shoes?”
“Yes”, now it was Jon.
“…and they went together?”
“…yes”, they both replied. Humming to herself, she continued observing them, knowing very well they were hiding something. “How long ago did they leave?”. They once again exchanged looks with one another, face flushed with embarrassment, “Uh, not that long ago…they’ll be here soon”. Catelyn’s skepticism deepened, her eyes darting from M/H/N awkward performance to Jon’s increasingly guilty expression. Letting out a sigh and rubbing her temples, she turned to return to the party, “Fine”.
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With one hand tangled in his auburn curls, you panted against Robb’s lips, “mm you’re insane”. Robb chose to ignore your words, his lips choosing to instead attack your neck and his fingers gripping hard on your thigh— surely to leave bruises come morning. Craning your neck back for more easy access, you tried reasoning, “they’re probably looking for us now—“. You couldn’t even finish your sentence, his cock having thrusted into your walls so deep it left you gasping for air, “f-Fuck, Robb!”
He groaned against your neck, his hips moving in rhythm against yours, “Who cares what they’re doing when I get to have you like this to all to myself”.  You almost bit your tongue when his hand slipped between the two of you, fingers rubbing at your sweet spot, “Fuck, I love it when you moan my name”.
It was almost close to an hour ago when your maid of honor took you to change out of your wedding dress into your reception dress. Coming out of the dressing room, you were met with both your newly brother-in-law and newly husband. While M/H/N and Jon engaged in some conversation about the band arriving soon, Robb and you took to wrapping each other up in arms. With a huge grin on his face, he planted small kisses all over your face, “My gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, wife”. Laughing at how his stubble tickled against your face, you laid your palm up against his cheek, “Aye, watch the makeup”, quickly giving him a kiss on the lips before pulling away and looking into his blue eyes, “but thank you my very handsome, good-looking, very very very attractive husband”. You two shared a moment of silence and intense gaze before you both broke out in giggles, capturing each other’s lips in one another, moving tendering and deeply. Pulling away, Robb stared down at you, both love in his eyes but also a hint of something else.
“You know you really do look gorgeous. You look equally as beautiful in this dress as you did in your wedding dress”. You thanked him once again but gave him a puzzled look when he said he had other opinions, however.
“And what other opinions are those?”, you said, smiling while waving at a cousin who just entered the building. Turning back to Robb, you noticed the way his eyes had slightly shifted in emotion; something more carnal behind them. Bending down his head towards your ear, he whispered softly, “If we weren’t in public right now, I’d have you naked with my head between your thighs”. His voice brought chills up your spine as he blew a soft gust of air on your earlobe before going back to height. Biting your lip and playing with his tie, you titled your head to the side and chuckled softly “You would, huh?”. His only reply was a nod, watching your every move like hawk and gulping as your fingers started to trail along his neck now. Robb was being unfair; he knew just how much his words had an effect on you. But yours did too. Bringing him down by his tie, you’d thought best to return his teasing—fighting fire with fire.
Slowly, you leaned up, “…I want you inside of me. I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do right now”. You could hear his breath hitch behind his closed mouth. Both of you were once again stuck in an intense stare down, this time only desire and want in your gazes. You were quick to fix yourself up, distancing yourself a bit from Robb and plastering on an innocent smile as more guests arrived, “Hi. Thank you for coming”. You snickered to yourself; feeling Robbs eyes on your back as he hadn’t moved a single inch from his spot. Jon and M/H/N ended their conversation and turned to face you both, nodding their head in the direction of the main area, “Alright, let’s get going”.
You took one single step before Robb came up behind you, grabbing you by your forearm and pushing you towards his chest. “Actually”, he started, “Y/N told me her dress is bothering her”. M/H/N had stepped up, examining you from head to toe, “Oh, let me help— “. Robb had interrupted her by raising his hand and shaking his head, “No, it’s fine. I got it. Besides, we want to spend some quiet time together, don’t we babe?”. Looking up at him, you quickly assessed the situation and nodded along, “R-right, yeah. We’ll be right back. You guys go and have fun. Who cares about us anyways.”
Jon and M/H/N didn’t have time to argue back— the new couple running down the halls of the building, hand in hand with laughter being echoed throughout it. Jon tsked his tongue, shouting at his brother and sister-in-law who were still in view, “What do you mean who cares about you guys?! This is your wedding!”. They both turned to flip Jon off, turning the corner and disappearing to the next connecting hall. Sighing, Jon rubbed his face as M/H/N came to stand next to him in silence.
“You know there was nothing wrong with her dress”. “… Yeah”.
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And that’s how you found yourself with Robb in some random office room in the building of your wedding reception. Robb’s patience was running low as he pushed you up against the wall and against the corner of what some seemed to be some bookshelf. Both your lips hungrily going at each other very frantically. A loud moan was swallowed by his mouth when his fingers went down, pushing your panties to the side and starting to play with your wet folds and opening. Wasting no time, you trailed your hands down towards his belt, quickly trying to undo it. Robb pulled away entirely from you, using the distance to unbutton a bit of his dress shirt and to take off his belt. Breathing heavily, you grabbed him back down by the neck for another kiss, biting his lip and sucking on his tongue. Pulling away, you raised an eyebrow at Robb with a smirk present on your face and his lips darkened and wet with saliva, “I’m almost positive this kind of tradition is reserved for tonight. You know, after the reception, not during”. Robb laughed slightly, pushing up against you and grabbing a hold of your thigh, wrapping your leg around his waist while the other stood for balance. His other hand was used to bunch up the fabric of your white party dress and to pull down one of its straps. “What can I say”, he bit along your neck, “you’re just so damn beautiful. So damn sexy. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold myself back when I saw you walking down that aisle”. His lips returned to yours. This kiss was messy with teeth almost clashing and tongues fighting. Both your hands were everywhere they could be felt; his on your thighs, ass, hips, breasts, and yours on his chest, neck, and back. Pulling away, Robb looked at you from head to toe and gave you a teasing smile, “And what’s all this?”. With both your body movements and clothes shifting, Robb had finally taken noticed of the white lace lingerie you had underneath the entire time of both your wedding dress and your reception dress. Rolling your eyes, you gave him a pointed look, “It was supposed to be for tonight. Way to ruin the surprise”.  He pouted mockingly at you and let out a small chuckle, kissing your forehead before his previous lustful look returned, “We can keep it on for now. And for tonight, I’ll just pretend it’s my first time seeing it”.
The way he spoke and stared at you had sent something straight to your burning core and had made you shifted closer to him unconsciously. “Such a gentleman”, you spoke running a thumb along his bottom lip and started kissing him again. With his belt already undone, it only took a few seconds to push down his clothing layers just enough to free his cock. As a brief warning, sliding your panties to the side, he slid his tip through your wet folds for a couple seconds. The whine you let out was all he needed before he pushed entirely inside you. You gasped loudly and screwed your eyes shut as Robb gave you a few seconds to adjust to the sudden fullness. Shaking your head, you bit down on your lip, “Don't be gentle with me—I like it when you're rough”. Robb wasted no time, gripping your thigh and fucking deeply into you, “Ah, fuck”, he moaned out, “you feel so fucking good. My good girl. My fucking wife”. He moved his lips along your collarbone, groaning and biting down. “Mm, fuck” you muffled out as your pussy clenched around his hard cock with every thrust he made. Robb took a second to look down, watching the way you took him in and your sleek and arousal that coated him every time he reentered. He was in heaven. Looking back up, you stared at Robb whose pupils were dilated in rapture with a little sweat coating his forehead. You probably looked the same to him as well. Your standing leg was starting to lose balance, causing you to slightly shift. Robb was quick to grab a hold of you, causing the tip of his cock to hit your most sensitive spot and just what he was looking for. “Hmm!”, you moaned out, “fuck Robb, right there!”, you truly felt like you were seeing stars. He started to fuck into you even faster and harder, increasing his movements, your pussy clenching even more, indicating your release. Eyes rolling back, you let your head fall back against the wall as you let out a mixture of curse words, moans, and Robbs’ name. Your body filled with warmth and pleasure, trembling as Robb held onto you and continued trying to reach his own climax. His movements were starting to get sloppy; you knew he was reaching his dissolve soon. However, he had to stop his movements abruptly; the doorknob to the room shaking vigorously.
Despite having locked the door beforehand, it was Robb’s natural reflex to reach over and hold onto the knob. At the same time doing so, he had let out a groan, and you a squeak as he slightly pushed you with his body. You were caught off balance but were able to hold onto the corner of the bookshelf, giving Robb a glare while he raised his finger up to his lip.
“Is somebody in there?”
Both your eyes widened in mutual shock; mouths agape as you two exchanged a horrified glance. You both recognized that voice as Robb’s Aunt Lysa.
She started banging harshly on the door now, “I know that someone is in there. I can hear you! This is a private event! If the cops need to be called, I have no problem- “.
“It’s me Aunt Lysa”, Robb spoke out, slightly cringing. Your face was flushed red; both because of your current activities and because of shame. Looking down, Robb’s left hand still had your thigh wrapped around his waist and his cock still buried inside you.
“Robb?”, Lysa questioned, “Is that you? Your mother has been looking everywhere for you! What are you doing in there?”
Robb gave you a once-over before clearing his throat, “I’m just…changing”. Your grip on the shelf was losing itself, causing you to readjust and move — which caused you to slightly sink down onto Robb’s cock. He was quick to bite his lip to stop the moan coming from his mouth, almost drawing blood in the process. Robb knew you too well and covered your mouth with his hand, knowing you would do the same. The only probably was that he wasn’t as quick.
“Now, hold on,” Lysa loudly said from the other side of the door, “I can hear another person in there and it sounds like a woman. Robb Stark you may be my nephew but I swear to God if you’re doing what I think your doing - “
“It’s me Mrs. Arryn”, you finally spoke out too. There was a moment of silence from the other end before Lysa started speaking again, “Oh, Y/N. Of course… Your mother was also looking for you…”. There was some awkwardness to her tone as you tried your best to clean up the situation, “I’m just changing too. Robb’s helping me”. Another awkward silence passed, “Of course he is…”. You and Robb gave each other a side glance; it was clear she didn’t believe you two and knew what you two were really doing. “Well”, Lysa began, “I best let you two get back to uh…changing…oh, um, where are the bathrooms?”. Robb was the one to answer her question, “On the other side of the building”. With a quick thank you and goodbye, you could hear the distant sound of her heels from the other side before she was gone entirely.
Turning back to Robb, you slapped his chest, groaning into your hands, “Ughhhh, that was so embarrassing”. He only laughed, making you peek at him from the gaps of your fingers. “What are you laughing at? You heard her; our parents are looking for us, so we better go”. Robb’s only response was to kiss you sloppy, pushing back once more inside you. You gasped into his mouth, his tongue playing with yours. Robb then pulled out of you completely, making you whimper from the sudden emptiness. Grabbing you by the forearm, he dragged you towards the desk in the room, bending you over it, pushing your dress up and your panties down— exposing yourself fully to him. He caressed your ass before smacking it hard; making you huff, “Let them wait a few more minutes”, his fingers played along your glistening folds. Standing up behind you, he pushed himself back into you, thrusting in, and out, and in again. Each time rougher than the other as he stretched out your cunt. Grabbing ahold of your hair and arching your back for him, he spoke into your ear, “This is our special day, isn’t it?”. Your only answer was a loud moan, his fingers being placed in your mouth to suck on. “Besides, I’m not fully done with you”.
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About twenty minutes later (some of which took up of M/H/N fixing your makeup and concealing your bite marks), you and Robb entered the main room holding arms. Guests were raising their glasses up to you in cheers— some already clearly starting to get tipsy. A close friend of yours came up to you both, hugging you and giving you your congrats while Robb shook hands with her boyfriend. Once they pulled away and moved aside, you both had clear sight across the room of the one person who was looking for you two the most: Catelyn Stark. To make matters worse, she was also conversing with her sister; both whispering and giving you two the side eye.
“Crap” both you and Robb said in unison, watching Catelyn with her wrath make her way towards you. Your sight was cut off by the wedding planner standing stressed and tired in front of you, “Okay, we can get back on schedule if we just follow with the original plan. Bride, it’s time for the father-daughter dance”. Your ears perked up at the familiar sound of the music you had chosen for this occasion and turned to see your dad already on the dance floor. Turning back to Robb, you gave him a sheepish smile, “Would you look at that… gotta go”. He was quick to grab a hold of your hand, “You can’t leave me. You vowed to be with me through anything”. Pulling your hand back, you raised both hands up in defense, “I had my fingers crossed when I said that”.
Seeing his pouted puppy look made you laugh, quickly blowing him a kiss, “I’m kidding. I love you”, turning to go dance with your father. Robb didn’t even have to turn around— already feeling his mother’s presence behind him. Wrapping arms with him, many passersby would see the scene as a mother coddling her son. But Catelyn was actually pinching Robb’s side, and hard. “You are so vulgar I swear. At your own wedding Robb, really? You couldn’t wait until after?”, she spoke through gritted teeth.
Robb winced a little at the pain, but his eyesight was also focused on you. Smiling and laughing with your father. “Why are you getting only me in trouble? Y/N was equally in on it”. Catelyn could only roll her eyes at her sons’ immature response, “Please, knowing you and knowing her it was probably all your doing”. Staring up at him to continue her scolding, she stopped momentarily at the look in her sons’ eyes. Following his line of vision, she was meet with you. A tender smile graced Catelyn lips. Nothing short of captivating was the way he gazed upon you. His unspoken proclamation of love seemed to go beyond words, and his eyes radiated an undying commitment. “Are you happy?”, she asked Robb. The song was coming close to the end. Robb turned to face his mother, a stern look on his face and nothing but seriousness was his tone, “Yes. I am”. From the corner of his eye, Robb could see your father leading you to him. Standing up higher, Catelyn gave him a quick peck on the forehead, “Good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted”. You and your father came face to face with the both of them, Catelyn giving you a peck on the cheek and your father handing you over to Robb, “She’s all yours’ son,” he patted his shoulder, “take care of her”.
Robb led you to the dance floor where the band had started to play a slower and more romantic song. Swaying to the tempo, you spoke up, “So, was she angry?”. Robb let out a small chuckle, smiling down at you. “She was,” he began, “but she said she’d forgive us if we gave her a grandchild”. Staring at him agape, you slapped his chest with a small gasp, “She did not say that!”. Now you both were laughing. The world around you two seemed to fade into a soft blur as you moved, lost in the embrace of your love. Resting your head against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I love you”, Robb spoke up, his hand tenderly placed on the small of your back. Sighing deeply, inhaling his scent and allowing yourself to bask in his warmth, both of you feeling safe in each other’s embrace, you let him know your feelings, “I love you too”.
Enjoying the moment's beauty, you both stayed in each other's arms as the music softly faded into the night. You both understood that this dance was only the start of an endless journey together.
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richardmaddendaily · 1 year
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Richard Madden and the tiny microphone
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whumpypepsigal · 1 year
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Citadel s01e03: “That left lung is filling up with blood, oxygen level is running low… and concussed. He’s hemostatic. Blood pressure’s dropping.”
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