Hi, could you do Robb Stark husband!headcanons with childhood bestfriend reader? Thank you.
husband!robb stark x childhood bestfriend!reader
( contains: fluff, slight angst, smut )
⢠a/n: i couldnât help but give these two quite a backstory, but i hope it was what you wished for, and that you enjoy! â˘
( word count - 1.4k | unedited )
~ you were raised in winterfell, the child of a bannerman sworn to house stark. your father often rode with lord eddard stark, whilst your mother remained at the seat of your house.
~ you and robb were attached at the hip ever since you both learned to walk. whatever you did, whether that was climbing trees, running through the halls, stealing slices of cake from the kitchen, you did it together.
~ however, living many of your years in winterfell, youâd witnessed the reality of war that branched from many peoples grasps for power. how could you not when you grew up around lord eddard stark: the man who fought alongside the king during his rebellion, and the man who bested ser arthur dayne?
~ as you and robb aged and matured, your relationship followed suit. robb was the heir to winterfell, and spent most of his days reading, training, and setting an example for his younger siblings; he was being bred to be the perfect lord. responsibilities weighed heavy on his shoulders, and your feeble attempts to relieve him of it were lost in the cold grasp of time.
~ however, robb was not the only one whoâs burden of responsibilities took a sudden turn. while he was trained to lead, you were trained to breed. you were seen as a woman of court now, meaning you were suitable for marriage in the coming moons.
~ the separation between you and robb was gradual, but one that stung like a blade frosted from the cold air digging into your skin. you found yourself envying him from time to time; he spent his time learning histories and swordsmanship whilst you were cooped up in the castle learning the proper ways of a lady.
~ everything changed when robb first saw the suitors pile up, and the lines of men almost falling at your feet for a chance of your hand. robb felt his heart drop with a frost so cold it burnt him from the inside out.
~ perhaps it was anger, jealousy, or a primal, possessive trance that overtook him. so blinded was he with rage that robb had flung his parchment off his study when you happened outside his chamber. âi would advise you to consider those suitors from this morning, and quickly.â his words werenât ones of advice, but of scrutiny.
~ robb felt it all crash down when his father was beheaded. no longer was he a boy, nor a man, but a king. you, however, were offered a choice: remain in winterfell, alone, or ride south with robb; you did not hesitate.
~ the kings road was a dangerous path, and one that robb had tried to dissuade you of as soon as you began packing to ride south. you were raised in the north, however, and you had grown to be ever-stubborn. but when an assassin was sent to your tent in the middle of the night, robb realized what it would feel like to lose you.
~ he had the man hanged, no doubt, and from then on, demanded that you share a tent with him to avoid this ever happening again (you were too stubborn to let him send you home, and sending you back north with his men wasnât in robbâs best interest - or yours.)
~ the confession came fiercely and suddenly. it was late in the night. you were across robbâs tent as you mindlessly flipped through the pages of a book you didnât care for. you found yourself stealing glances at him as he stood, looking over a large table. he was tense, his shoulders rigid and taut.
~ you moved swiftly towards him, as if your mind and body were two separate entities. you stood behind him, your hands pressing into the muscles of his shoulders and back, and massaging them through the fabric of his tunic.
~ there it was, your robb stark, turned to putty in your hands. his head fell forward and he gripped the table as you rubbed along his nape. the flames from the candles cracked and flickered as the wax dripped down the candle sticks.
~ there was a long silence; the tension from the years of distance, and the distant years of closeness kept the air thick, before robb finally spoke.
~ his confession was not gentle, it was raw and desperate, as if he had been drowning the words and thoughts deep within him. âi cannot lose you. not you. If i do, there is nothing left of me.â
~ the marriage was not a grand affair, it was done in haste and in secrecy, perhaps even against the wishes of the lords advising him. robb did not care. âi am a man who learns from my mistakes,â he told them, voice hard with defiance. âand i will not let duty take her from me again.â
~ war changed your husband. the boy who once laughed freely now carried grief in his eyes. first he lost his father, then bran and rickon; his losses weighed heavy on him, and some nights, even you could not reach him.
~ when the nights grew cold and lonely, even robb could not hide his regret. âyou should have married someone who could keep you safe,â he once muttered, his fingers ghosting over the scar on your arm from the aforementioned attack in your tent. your eyes burnt cold into his, your hand coming to graze his cheek. âthere is no use for safety if i am without you.â
~ as much as robb wanted to reason with you, to shake the stubbornness out of you, he couldnât help but plant a soft kiss on your lips in admiration. you were undoubtedly strong, and never backed down from anything no matter how much he tried to dissuade you.
~ it started off slow, but the passion and fervour built as robb found his hands pressed against your cheeks as he continued kissing you. his hot skin a sharp contrasts to the cold air in the tent.
~ oh, there was no doubt in your kiss, only a sliver of fear, as if the other would slip away without warning. you found your hands tangled in robbâs curls, tugging as he backed you against his bed.
~ laces were undone, boots were tugged off, and eventually, the clothes came off. you two were as close as humanly possible; soaking up the heat from each others skin.
~ robb was passionate and loving. he was always very gentle with you, and did not inflict any pain or hasten the moment. you were married in a time of war, and robb did not know how much time he had left with you; why not take his time with you?
~ of course, you had needs, and sometimes the soft and slow intimacy wouldnât cut it. robb was happy to oblige, speeding up as you needed, and watching your every reaction with wide, yet hazy eyes.
~ what robb loved especially, was the familiarity the two of you shared. you were a part of robbâs soul, and knowing you his whole life only linked the two of you closer. robb loved knowing your quirks; your dislikes and likes, your opinions, and your ideas, even if war was a manâs job.
~ no matter how many times you two bickered, disagreed, or the ways you showed your love to one another, there was no doubt in your chemistry. even a fool could see the deeper connection between the two of you; your souls were forged from the same fire, your hearts from the same ice.
