#richard madden fanfiction

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Update: 2023-12-16

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Robb Stark stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

✠ Queen in the North by thebestandworstdayofjune • 〔F〕 •

Summary: Your parents sent you to live with the Starks at a young age, and ever since then, you seemed to fit perfectly, maybe even more than you had ever noticed.

✠ United in Fear by justfandomwritings • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • 🚫 •

Summary: "The names were the greatest mystery in Westeros... [No kingdom] could agree on where they were from or how they came to be... [However,] all seemed to agree on one thing: they were a gift."

✠ A Lord Needs A Lady by ardentmuse • 16+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: Exhausted and overwhelmed, you sneak away from the king's feast into the god's word to take a dip in Hot Springs. However, things get more heated than you bargained for when the heir of Winterfell interrupts your bath.

✠ A Queens Desire by talesof-old • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Robb finds the idea of you having children a little too much to handle."

✠ Be My Queen by mylittlefandomfanfictions • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "[Robb and you have been in love for many years]. Now that he is King in the North, he has chosen you as the woman he wants to... make his Queen. There's just [the issue of] asking for your hand..."

✠ Best Friend by axelsagewrites • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: "After a decade of friendship Robb is finally able to recognise his love but only after his best friend starts looking for a husband that isn't him."

✠ Betrayal by fearlessmercenaryimagines-blog • 〔A᜶C〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: "Before the war everything was so different, Robb and [you] were deeply in love… Robb was an great husband and an incredible father... [You] were the perfect family unit and nothing would ever separate them or so [you] thought."

✠ Cloak by axelsagewrites • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: When the reader returns to winterfell after being attacked she finds herself having night terrors again and only one person is able to make them stop.

✠ Danger that Befalls You by justauthoring • 16+ • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ • 🚫 •

Summary: When Rob left for war, he requested you, his wife, remain in Winterfell and look after his brothers. He thought it would be safer; little did he'd believing you vulnerable to Theon, following the Iron princes betrayal.

✠ Feasts and Possessiveness by letsasoiaftogether • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: When Joffrey takes a worried some interest in you, Robb's betrothed, the young wolf struggles to keep his jealousy in check; you assure him that he's the only man that will ever hold your heart.

✠ First and Last by ijustwant2write •

Summary: {…}

✠ Flowers by fearlessmercenaryimagines-blog •

Summary: The daughter of a simple yet well-respected flower merchant in Winterfell …

✠ Good Girl by axelsagewrites • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Good Night Dear Husband by axelsagewrites •

✠ I Miss You by axelsagewrites • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "[You] misses spending quality time with [your] husband when the war is raging and draws him back into bed."

✠ Jealousy by hearmeroarasoiaf • 16+ • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Imagine being a Lannister and Robb makes you jealous by flirting with someone else."

✠ Lady Lannister by darkdevasofdestruction • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "The first time [you] met, it was love at first sight. He favoured his Tully side, with gorgeous icy-blue eyes and shiny auburn hair, charming every lady in the North with a simple smile and wink."

✠ Lady Stark by evieurusrex • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: the day Rob met, you was the day, his world turned upside down, and neither of you could be happier about it.

✠ Longing￨Prt. II by mylittlefandomfanfictions • 〔A〕 •

Summary: "Robb Stark is your best friend, but he's also the man you're in love with. Now he's away at war and you want nothing more than for him to come home."

✠ Lord and Lady of House Stark by hiatuswhore • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Oh to be young and in love. Foolish really, in the Game of Thrones there's no room for love. Only life and death."

✠ Marriage Night by axelsagewrites • 〔F〕 • ♡ •

Summary: "After your arranged marriage ceremony you and your new husband finally have alone time for the first time."

✠ May I Have this Dance by mylittlefandomfanfictions • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "When Robb happens upon you and his siblings teaching Rickon how to dance, the young boy insists Robb join them."

✠ Provoked by Jealousy by bluesfortheredj • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: {…}

✠ Red Revenge by julessworldd • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: {…}

✠ Sometimes by luna-writes-stuff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You have been betrothed to Robb for a while now, but a his royal duties after Bran fell lay heavy on his health, you force him to take a break, in which he rants to you about his doubts over Theon's questioning words."

✠ Sweet Girl by axelsagewrites • 〔M᜶F〕 • 🚫 •

Summary: …

✠ Wolf's Territory, the by mylittlefandomfanfictions • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: "[Catching] the eye of Jamie Lannister, the Kingslayer [quickly recognizes] Robb's feelings for you, antagonizing the young wolf with his relentless flirting. You, [however,] can't understand why Robb is so angry."

✠ Awkward Arrangement by hearmeroarasoiaf • 16+ • 〔F〕 •

✠ Always There by blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms • 〔A᜶C〕 • 🚫 •

✠ Catelyn's Ward by megsironthrone • 〔C〕 •

✠ Cozy in Your Arms by the-dendrophile-bookdragon • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Direwolf Pups by megsironthrone • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Distraction by multi-fandom-imagines8 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Grief by multifandomhaven • 〔C〕 •

✠ Hidden Feelings by bonniebird • 〔F〕 •

✠ I Can't Wait by you-plus-them • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✠ Injury by megsironthrone • 〔F〕 •

✠ King's Envy, the by bonniebird • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ My Wife by justauthoring • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ No Words by fallatyourfeet • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✠ Outside the Norm by megsironthrone • 〔F〕 •

✠ Over the Moon by delicrieux • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✠ Passion by blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Pondwater Eyes by delicrieux • 〔F〕 •

✠ Proud by letsasoiaftogether • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Return to Winterfell by fallatyourfeet • 〔F〕 •

✠ Since the Age of Four by breanime • 〔F〕 •

✠ Worry by megsironthrone • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ You Must Really Love Me by justauthoring • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Arguing w/ Robb Stark... by imagines-all-day-everyday • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Being Robb's Wife... by tessimagines • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Carrying Robb's Baby... by fallatyourfeet • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✠ Courting Robb... by itsgameofthronesimagines • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ His Favourite Trait of Yours is... by persuasivus • 〔F〕 •

✠ Life w/ Robb After War… by imagines-all-day-everyday • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✠ Robb Being Protective... by imagines-all-day-everyday • 〔F〕 •

✠ S.F.W. Alphabet by ladywinterwitch • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Robb Stark Master Index

Authors: @ardentmuse || @axelsagewrites || @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms || @bluesfortheredj || @bonniebird || @breanime || @darkdevasofdestruction || @delicrieux || @eviesaurusrex || @fallatyourfeet || @fearlessmercenaryimagines-blog || @hearmeroarasoiaf || @hiatuswhore || @ijustwant2write || @imagines-all-day-everyday || @itsgameofthronesimagines || @julessworldd || @justauthoring || @justfandomwritings || @ladywinterwitch || @letsasoiaftogether || @luna-writes-stuff || @megsironthrone || @multifandomhaven || @multi-fandom-imagines8 || @mylittlefandomfanfictions || @persuasivus || @talesof-old || @tessimagines || @thebestandworstdayofjune || @the-dendrophile-bookdragon || @you-plus-them ||

[burgers-and-french-fries]

Can you please do a Richard Madden X male reader husband where its laundry day. Husband is going to pop in another load. Richard is just in a shirt and boxers on his stomach answering emails on his phone. Husband slips off Richards underwear for the load and is enchanted by Richards butt and berry's his face in it. Thank U

Note: This is a scheduled post.

Enjoy!

===

Doing laundry was never a fun thing for Richard so when he met and married his husband, they both agreed that laundry would be left up to y/h/n. Normally he wouldn’t have minded so much but with today being a busy day and not having as much time to get things done before company came for dinner, y/h/n felt like a little help was needed. However, Richard wasn’t about to help in any way as he insisted on laying on the bed scrolling through his phone. Y/h/n rolled his eyes and left Richard to it.

Y/h/n took his time with cleaning as he pottered around the house doing other little chores here and there between the various loads of laundry he had to do.

A couple hours into everything, y/h/n was growing more and more annoyed with the lack of help from Richard, so, he went back into the bedroom to talk to him about pulling his weight. However, when he got there, he saw the best sight ever.

Richard was on his belly scrolling through his phone wearing only a white t-shirt and boxers. He looked beyond delicious. Too delicious to be mad at.

So, with that sight in front of him, y/h/n figured that the best thing to do was to act as though he needed Richard’s clothing. He walked forward and without a single word to his husband, y/h/n removed the boxers faster than Richard could slap a tick and the view of Richard’s bare bum was mouth watering. It was y/h/n’s favorite thing about Richard after all.

“You’re staring.” Richard mumbled as he typed out a reply to the email he had just read.

Y/h/n shook his head and did the only thing that felt right in this situation, he buried his face into Richard’s butt and took a huge bite.

“Ow, what the fuck.” Richard hollered as he clenched his butt.

Y/h/n chuckled.

“Sorry, it was just too good not to do that. Plus, you know what white t-shirts do to me.” Y/h/n replied.

“You sure it was just that?” Richard smirked over his shoulder, full well knowing the real reason.

“Maybe.” Y/h/n answered as he let his hands caress Richard’s right butt cheek.

“You know, I think we could both use a break.” Richard said, throwing his phone down and flipping over so that his penis was on full view for y/h/n.

Eh, to fuck with Laundry day, cleaning could definitely wait.

===

Tag List:

@geo-winchester

@elizami11s

@stilessbaseballbat

[petew21-blog]

No way back

Richard Madden was now on top of his career. Starring in Game of Thrones and after that in many successful movies as well.

He loved his aching career and his life

Until it was taken from him. By you

You really loved him as an actor. But you fell in love with his body much more. And that's why you attacked him on the street after that play he starred in.

He put up quite a fight. But you had a knife and eventually you succeded in stabbing his shoulder. Stabbing was the crucial step to swap bodies. After that, you were now fighting your old body, that was towering over you and held a knife in your shoulder. Thank god for the police for shooting him and saving you

The ambulance took you to the hospital. He hit some of the big veins, so you were bleeding rapidly. So they had to take care of that. Some doctor stitched you up and told you you were lucky. "I know. Thank you"

You were finally left alone in your room. You went to the mirror in your gown to look at the wound and at your new self.

And there he was Richard staring back at you.

You took of the gown. Revealing the big wound and some scratches on other parts of the body.

He put up quite a big fight before you switched. If you wouldn't stab him, you'd be the one who was dead now. Not Richard.

You looked over your new shirtless body. Your hairy torso covering the muscular chest and abs. All yours now to enjoy.

Your nipples hardening at the sight of the beautiful man in front of you. And not the only thing that was hardening.

You are Richard Madden now

But the blood and scratches reminded you what you have done. That you were now in a different man's body. That you took his life and got him killed. There's no going back anymore. You can't get back to your old life, see any of your friends or your family. Or even your dog

It was all so bittersweet. Getting his body was one thing, but now you felt the guilt of it all overcoming you. You looked at yourself in the mirror and saw the teary eyes looking back. Did you screw this up?

6 months later

After dealing with the aftermath and going to therapy. You decided to quit acting for a while. You didn't even know how to act, cause Richard's memories did not stay in his body and secondly you probably wouldn't even enjoy it.

You asked for therapy after the attack a decided to pretend to have some sort of amnesia, which became an excuse for everything after that. Especially for not knowing who in Richard's life was who.

But now it didn't matters. You were in Los Angeles, Hollywood Hills. Enjoying the beautiful scenery and the sun shining on your beautiful hairy chest.

With just one bottle of water and a phone in your hand, you arrived to the place and sent the photo

"I'm here" you said out loud

From a bush, an attractive young man came out

"Holy shit, it's really you. Omg sir I have to say I am the biggest fan."

"I thought you came here to hook up"

"Yeah... right. Sorry. Sure"

You unzipped your jeans and pulled out your big dick to jerk. It was getting hard. You loved freaking out these twinks in your body. Hell, this guy's probably the same age as you were. But you're in Richard's body now, being older than him

He was shocked and just stared at you. Definitely aroused

"Are you gonna stare or take care of it?"

"I... YES! I just thought we could go somewhere private. There is a lot of rattle snakes here you know"

You came close to him. Pushing him on his knees and shoving your hard dick into his mouth

"There is only one snake you gotta be worried about right now"

You left him on the mountain. Covered in cum all over his face. You had an interview to get to. Fuck, your acting career was about to start again.

The twink caught up with you. "Can I call you? I really wanna do this again"

"Already hungry for more? This is my adress. And bring a friend"

The guilt was still deep in your heart. But moments like this definitely made it better

[countrymusiclover]

The Last Velaryon

Haelesa is the last daughter of the Velaryon tree, and her house is in danger of dying out. So her father decides to convince Tywin to make her and Jaime wed. Yet when she rides North with the royal family, she can't help but fall for the young wolf Robb Stark.

1 - The Arrangement

2 - Swords and Winterfell

3 - The Feast pt 1

4 - The Feast pt 2

5 - The Wedding I Didn’t Choose

6 - Revealing Letters

7 - The Waring Battlefield

8 - The Truth of Jaime Lannister

9 - The Language of Desire

10 - Misunderstood Communication

11 - Loyalties Can Change

12 - Spared by the King

13 - We Control the Fleets, not People

14 - Is A Change Of Heart Too Late

15 - The Handmaiden’s Admirer

16 - A Stark and A Velaryon

17 - Possibly Changing the War

18 - Dealing with House Frey

19 - Three Very Important Words

20 - His Closet Betrayal

21 - The Fate of Jaime Lannister

22 - The Fire of a Best Friend

23 - Forgiveness Isn’t Too Easy

24 - The Unlikely Pair

25 - The Future Lady Lannister

26 - Land Lords meet Sea Lords

27 - Land Lords meet Sea Lords pt 2

28 - The New Stark Family

29 - Needing More Allies

30 - Messages of War

31 - The Stag King

32 - Tiny bit of Hope

33 - There’s no pause in War

34 - The Secrets We Keep

35 - The Wolf Shows It's Teeth

???

Comments / reblogged thoughts really appreciated ❤️

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @1not-today-satan1

@melvia-ito

[i-think-i-have-too-many-fandoms]

So I think I'm gonna open up requests for smau's for all of my fandoms, basically just like a couple insta posts and Twitter posts for your favorite character that may be on my list (the pinned post on my account) I'll also have them all tagged below 😁

Just tell me who and add a little description, or not and I can come up with something on my own.

[alloftheimagines]

mason kane | you are a memory

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

words: 3000+

warnings: set during citadel ep3, angst, pain, blood, nothing more than what's in the show

prompt: Reader/oc is a spy for citadel too but she known she was a citadel spy she was safe when the fall happened and when the train event happened and reader thought that they would let mason live a life without the spy life and them so she would continue help out with rebuilding citadel back up etc. maybe building some assets etc then when Nadia and he goes to the safe house they meet back up there some way or another if that makes sense to like Nadia some how got in contact with reader??  tag: @thefictionalgemini

It feels like you’ve waited centuries for that sound: the door opening. For years, you’ve lived in the safe house alone, never stopping your search for other Citadel members and doing what you can to aid them when needed. But few of them survived, and even less had reason to come to you. 

But you knew, somehow — or at least hoped — that he would come home. That you’d see him again. 

It feels like a dream, then, when Nadia steps through the threshold, offering you a crooked, familiar smirk before shifting aside so he’s in full view behind. There’s a sorrow in her eyes you don’t dare unpack, not yet. For now, your gaze crawls across his frame. He’s barely changed. Hair still short and brushed back, eyes still that unbearably bright blue. Laughter lines bracket his cheeks along with rough, red-tinted stubble, and it feels like no time has passed at all now. An eternity shrinks between you in a second, and your heart restarts, your world turning to colour. 

“Mason,” you whisper, voice cracking, tears brimming. You want to run to him, fall into him and never let go, but Nadia is watching and… he is, too, with furrowed brows. Confused. 

A cold wave crashes through you as you look at Nadia again, and her nod confirms your fear. He doesn’t know you. 

Mason clears his throat, dropping the case to the ground and rubbing his hands together as though trying to warn him. “We know each other, then. You’re the one Nadia told me about. Y/N?” Your name twists across his tongue like a stumbling dancer in their first lesson. Unsure of the steps. Unsure of how it should sound. 

Something inside you cracks, but in all your solitary years here, you’ve never allowed yourself to succumb to all the pain and grief dwelling inside you. You’ve never let yourself give up, not on him or on Citadel. So you tip your chin and hope it doesn’t wobble. 

“I guess you could say that. I was usually in your ear.” You tap an imaginary earpiece, feeling awkward and stiff and lost. More lost, more alone, than you have in this empty house for years. “I worked on communications in Citadel. Never usually in the field.”

“I can’t believe you’re here after all these years,” Nadia said, voice soft as always. It’s clear that while Mason has lost his memories, she has found hers just fine, and you wonder how that’s fair. How it came to be.  “How did you know we were coming?”

“I didn’t. I’ve been here since we went dark ten years ago.”

“Are there more?” Mason glanced around, rubbing the back of his neck. “More people waiting for us?”

You shake your head, a pang of well-hidden grief shooting through you. “No. Just me.”

His gaze snaps to you without warning, piercing and all-consuming and utterly surprised. “You’ve been hiding here alone for the last decade?”

“Yep. So if I start talking to myself, don’t be too worried. I’m not used to company.” You smirk and turn away from him, rubbing your aching sternum. “It was Carter who told me to head here. Said he’d be in contact. We were back and forth for years until he went dark, too. The only connection with Citadel I had left. I tried to track him down, but… I don’t have the field experience. Not like you. Think he’s alive, though.”

“You know where he could be?” Nadia asked. 

“I have my theories.”

“As much as I’d love to hear them, I need a shower first. That okay?”

“Knock yourself out.”

She traipses up the stairs with a final, pointed glance as though to say “You’re welcome" for leaving you alone with him. But you’re the opposite of thankful. In front of Nadia, you might be able to act professionally. Unaffected. But it’s just the two of you now, and the man you love doesn’t even know you, and he’d always had a knack for completely unravelling you. 

The silence is stifling. You motion to the living room, to the couch. “You should sit. You look like you’ve had a rough time of it.”

His smile is wry. “That’s one word for it.”

You follow him in, and he sighs as he plonks himself down. He pulls a lighter from his pocket and begins flicking it, and for a moment you’re certain that you were wrong; that he knows himself, knows you. It’s such an old, familiar habit. So many times you listened to that metallic click, let it soothe you as you figured out a plan today. 

He catches you watching, then, and hope is washed away as quickly as it came. There’s none of that old fondness in his eyes, even if natural confidence still oozes from him like blood from a wound. 

He’s Mason, but he isn’t your Mason. 

The man you’ve been waiting for, the man for whom you prayed over and over to be alive, is not here anymore.

“Didn’t Bernard ever contact you?” he asks finally. 

“No.” You narrow your eyes, wishing you were comfortable enough to sit beside him. Wishing you could reach out, touch him. Ask him where he’s been. You’re not sure you want to know. A lot can happen in ten years, especially to a man who doesn’t know his own name. “Should he have?”

“He’s the one who came to me. Told me who I was. He needed my help.”

That bastard. He’d left you in the dark. Disposed of you. You want to believe that he walked away too, that he needed it to be this way to keep any agents still living safe, but… He could have contacted you. Could have found you here. This safe house is one of the few Citadel-owned places left untouched, unknown by your enemies. Perhaps the silence had protected you, but it also drove you crazy. You’d felt like a prisoner most days, always waiting for your computer to ping or an agent to show up and liberate you. 

You’d wasted your life waiting. For Bernard. For Mason. For Citadel. 

Your fists clench at your sides, and you can no longer look at Mason. “I didn’t think you’d made it out,” you admitted, voice thickening just slightly. “I thought you were dead.”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “I don’t understand,” he said quietly. “They just left you here, no contact with any of us? Why?”

“Maybe they didn’t want anybody finding out about this place. It’s the only sanctuary we have left. They wouldn’t compromise that by communicating with me, and honestly, I didn’t know what else to do. Citadel was my life. I had to keep trying, keep hoping…” 

It’s a lie, of course. Mason was your life. Citadel was a close second. Bernard had known that; perhaps that’s why he hadn’t bothered to find a way through to you. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted you to know that Mason was still alive, because you’d never been discrete about your feelings for him. You wouldn’t have let him go without a fight, and they’d needed their entire operations to become invisible. 

They needed him to forget while you stayed here, a ghost in a house much too big for one person. They’d known that you’d wait for eternity if it meant the chance to see him again.

You finally sit in the armchair across from him, folding your hands on your lap as anger glows like embers in your gut. “I thought you were dead,” you admit. “Carter told me about the train, the explosion… He told me you were probably dead. Both of you.”

Mason looks down at his hands. “I can’t get my memories back. They were destroyed. Gone. I know that I should know you, but I don’t.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I guessed as much.” 

“There’s no other way, right?”

You shake your head solemnly. “Not that I know of. Then again, nobody tells me anything, clearly.” You can’t help the bitterness seeping into your words. 

He rubs a thumb across his chin. “It’s weird. I feel like…” He trails off, and you lean forward curiously. 

“What?” 

A shrug. “I’ve seen your face before. I got flashes sometimes — memories, I guess. You were in them.”

Your heart lifts just a little. 

“And your voice.” His volume lowers. “I heard it. I never knew whose it was. Thought I was going crazy. But it’s yours. It was you.”

Your fingers begin to tremble. You don’t know what to say. It feels cruel, somehow, him telling you this. Dangling hope in front of your face. He can’t know how much it hurts, of course, but it makes you grit your teeth all the same. 

“So where did you end up all these years?” you ask, hoping the answer might give you some closure. Some truth. 

“I went by Kyle. Got married. Had a daughter.” His mouth upturns at the corners, and it makes you want to die. 

He got a new life. You were here, rotting, waiting, and he was making a family. 

“Where are they now?” 

“Back home,” he says. “With Bernard’s wife. Safe.”

You nod. It’s an effort to keep your features smooth as your gaze snags on a bloodied tear in his jacket. “You’re hurt.”

In an instant, you’re up, heading into the kitchen to grab a first aid kit. When you get back, you motion to his jacket and he takes it off obediently, wincing. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

A deep one, clearly made by a bullet. You sigh and perch beside him, forgetting that you should probably ask before getting this close to him. Forgetting that you’re not the one who should be tending to his wounds anymore. 

He hisses when you dab the saline-soaked cloth to the graze. 

“You used to be tougher,” you tease. 

He smirks at that, crooked and warm if not steel-edged as a knife. Electricity buzzes through you, because you’ve missed the way he tries not to laugh at your shitty jabs. The way he tries to hide his humour, but it comes out through his cracks all the same. “I wouldn’t know.” And then: “Will you come with us to find Carter?”

The question throws you off-guard, and you look around. This prison is also your shelter, and you’re not sure you know how to jump back into the real world, a world of crime and violence and him. He’s married. He isn’t yours. And why should you aid them, when Bernard cut you away from the rest of the group so cleanly? 

“I don’t know,” you confess quietly. “I’ve been hiding for a long time. I think I’m more useful here.”

“We could use all the help we can get.” 

The cloth comes away red, but the bleeding has stopped. You get the bandages ready and hum, pretending to deliberate. 

He stops you with a hand across yours. “I mean it. I don’t remember how to do this.”

“It’ll come to you.” You snatch your hand away; keep unrolling the bandage. Maybe it’s weak, maybe it’s cowardly, but you need a moment to breathe after this. Need a moment to adjust to a world where Mason isn’t dead, but still isn’t Mason. You need to figure out if keeping this house safe, keeping Citadel and its missing members safe, is worth it after the way they’ve pushed you aside. 

“We need you.”

“You did okay without me for the last ten years,” you snap, wishing immediately you could take it back. 

Overwhelmed, you abandon the bandages and the wound, averting your gaze because even now it feels too heavy, too dangerous. Like he could strip your skin and bones away if he wanted. Like he could leave you raw. 

You used to like that about him. Now you hate it. More so because he doesn’t even realise he’s capable of it. 

“I was living a lie.” His voice is firmer now. Raspier. “I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t choose it!” 

“Neither did I!” you erupt. “I thought you were dead, Mason! I was here, alone, always wondering if you were. Wondering whether anything would ever change! And now you’re here and you don’t know me, but you’re asking me to be somebody I haven’t been in a very long time. What am I supposed to do with that? How the hell am I supposed to be okay with it?”

A wrinkle burrows between his brows. For moments, he remains unreadable until he finally looks up at you. “We weren’t just working together, were we?”

You can’t answer him. You don’t want to have to tell him that you were in love, that everything that made life worth living had been snatched away the day he went missing. 

“Tell me,” he demands, standing up. “Tell me, Y/N. Were we together?”

Your chin wobbles, and you can’t keep pretending. You can’t keep ignoring the hole in your chest. “Yes.” 

It’s clear he doesn’t know what to say, and you know that there is nothing he could. Nothing that would make it easier, at least. You are cursed, the one who will remember. The only one who longs for endless nights tangled between the sheets and stupid back-and-forths through his earpiece. You’re the only one who remembers the rush you felt when you worked together, him in the field and you safe by your computer. 

You’re the only one who remembers the night he told you he loved you, and the morning you said it back. He gets to move on, gets to feel nothing but indifference, while you carry a decades’ worth of grief and yearning and pain on your back. And you could deal with that before, when your days were made of aimlessly checking for messages or signs of Citadel activity and scrambling your eggs and staying in your pyjamas because nobody saw you anyway, but now he is inescapable and you find yourself wanting to shut the door in his face just so you don’t have to look at it and see the man you used to know buried under the haze and amnesia and this new life you have not been apart of. 

Eventually, he steps forward — and somehow looks apologetic. “I wish I remembered,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. But do you honestly want to stay here, alone? There must have been a reason you stayed. It wasn’t just for the view, right?”

For you, you want to say. I was waiting for you.

But he’s right. Your memories might remain intact, but you were once much more than this. You were quick, determined, unrelenting. It had taken years before you stopped searching for sign of Mason every day. But you had. You’d dwindled. Perhaps you’d given up without realising it. 

The person you used to be would never have grown this despondent. You would have stitched your own broken heart back together and yanked back your power, proving to Citadel you’re a worthy asset. The only one skilled enough to perform what they needed. To fight terrorism and organised crime from behind a screen. 

You miss that fire in your belly. Now, it's no more than ash. 

Finally, you turn your hardened stare back to him. “No. It wasn’t just for the view.”

He nods as though he knows your mind has changed, determination sharpening his own face. “Then you’ll help us.”

“I’ll help you,” you decide. Even if it hurts. Even if you’re not sure you want to anymore. 

The back of his hand brushes yours, and your skin tingles. You look down and know it was no accident; his fingers twitch from the impact like a bird stunned after hitting the window. When you lock eyes, you see a flicker of him. Your Mason. Arrogance and softness all at once. A lion ready to pounce because he’s never known how to stay still. How did he manage it, being a family man? 

What did he think when he saw glimpses of you?

It doesn’t matter. Your Mason might be gone, but so is Kyle. He’s someone new now, and you’ll just have to get to know this new version of him. 

Just as he’ll have to get to know this new version of you. You’re not sure who you’ll be yet, still scarred and unsure, but you think that if he can walk through your door and find you against all odds,, maybe you can find him, too. 

He keeps his eyes on the view behind the window, eyes turning the same forest green as the trees outside. Still, his arm is warm against yours, his broad shoulders squared and ready. 

“Good,” he mutters, sending you a half-smile. “Because I’m going to need somebody to tell me who I really am. Who Mason Kane is.”

That, you might just be able to do. “An asshole,” you quip dryly. “Mason Kane was an asshole.” And god, did he love it when you said so. 

As though it’s ingrained in his muscle memory, Mason lets out a chuckle — half-joy and half-disbelief. He raises his brow, flirtatious though you’re not sure he knows it yet. “That right?”

“Yep.” You cross your arms over your chest and try to stifle your hope, but it’s no use. It comes anyway. “With a capital A.”

This man might not be Mason, but he’s a hell of a lot like him. For now, that has to be enough.

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Winter Market

Pairing: Modern!Robb Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: none, just fluff!

Word Count: 1067

Summary: While running your own stall at a Winter Market, you run into an old schoolmate of yours -- none other than Robb Stark.

A/N: A day late, but I had to edit this one and I was distracted yesterday. My bad. But expect either one more tonight or two tomorrow to wrap up my Fluffcember event! Hope you enjoy this one!

Fluffcember Masterlist

The Winterfell Yuletide Market was famous throughout the realm, boasting some of the most unique and talented craftspeople from all over the world. They also had a section reserved for local artisans only, which is where you found your stall. After your rocky divorce you’d taken up soap and candle making as a hobby to keep your mind and hands busy. You’d even looked into getting a hive of bees for beekeeping, but it had been too late in the season to have them shipped from Honeyholt. 

You were lucky to get the stall, which you had to keep reminding yourself as the temperatures dipped into the negatives. The sad little space heater under your table could barely keep your feet warm. Being a born and raised Northerner, though, you weren’t going to let the cold close you down like some other stalls had. 

“Hot cider, courtesy of Stark Tech?” a voice asked, pulling you from your trance. A steaming mug of cider appeared in front of you and you followed the gloved hand holding it up to the auburn curls and striking blue eyes of none other than Robb Stark.

It had been a long time since you’d seen him, having gone to school together many moons ago. Since then it had been easy to follow his meteoric rise in the Tech industry, taking over his father’s company when he passed too soon and managing to nearly double profits within the first year of his reign. Stark Tech was one of the biggest employers in the North, and the major sponsor of the Market. However, you had not at all expected to see the CEO of the company walking around, handing out free cider to the stall owners.

If he recognized you he didn’t let on, but you accepted the cider anyway. Anything to help keep your hands warm was welcome at this point. Only an hour left to stay open, but the temperature was dropping quickly. 

“Thank you, Mister Stark,” you said, not letting your voice wave from shivering.

He smiled his blinding smile, then tilted his head a bit. “Have we met before?” 

You smirked, sipping your cider that was impeccably spiced. “We went to school together.” You gave him your name and his blue eyes lit up with recognition.

“Yes! How’ve you been?” 

You gestured to the stall around you, “Alright, I guess. I got accepted to the biggest Winter Market in the North, so I’d say pretty good.” 

“Ahh, yes,” he said, picking up a teacup candle and inhaling deeply, “Oh, I’m sure Sansa would love this. Rose, right?”

“And sandalwood,” you added. “My gran collected fancy teacups all her life. When she passed last year she had left them all to me. I had no idea what to do with them until after…well, you don’t want to hear about all that.”

He smiled wide, picking up another candle to sniff. “On the contrary, I would love to catch up. You’re here for another hour, right?” 

You had to stop your jaw from dropping. You’d been out of the dating loop, but you could’ve sworn he had just asked you out. The few attempts you’d made at online dating had yielded absolutely nothing — in fact, the matches you’d gotten had made you want to throw your phone into the White River and erase all trace of yourself from the internet forever after scrubbing your eyeballs and brain with a toilet brush.

“Are you asking me out, Stark?” you asked for the sake of clarity. More than once you’d been accused of coming off as cold rather than cool. 

He smiled again, “I am indeed. Unless you’ve got plans after this, then we can pick another night.”

“Oh yeah, after this I’ve got big plans with my cat and my streaming queue,” you joked, heart fluttering as he let out a warm chuckle, “I’d love to go out with you.” 

He sniffed another candle and added it to the growing pile of teacups in the crook of his arm. “Excellent, I’ll meet you here after closing if that works. We can go to the Direwolf and Dragon?”

“I love that place! They have the best whiskey selection.” You nodded eagerly, perhaps a little too enthusiastically but you were beyond caring. This was Robb Fucking Stark, every girl’s crush in school and even though you were a fully grown adult woman with her own bank account and apartment and business, the giddy teenager within you was ecstatic.

“And she likes whiskey,” he muttered to himself with satisfaction, “Excellent. While I’d love to stay and keep chatting, I’ve got more cider to hand out. How much do I owe you?” 

He gestured to the four teacup candles in his arms and you told him the total, then wrapped each one in tissue paper and put them gently into a paper gift bag. Your stomach turned at the thought that these were for a girlfriend, but you hadn’t seen anything about his dating life recently. He’d been dating the heiress of some big agricultural company down south for a few years, but you knew they’d broken up a while back. Around the same time your divorce was happening, come to think of it.

As you wrapped, you asked, “Who are all these for? Teacups aren’t usually decor for bachelor flats.”

He chuckled again, “My mother and sisters. And my PA, Steffon, he loves anything pine scented. The fact that the cup has pine boughs on it I think bodes well, too.” 

You passed the bag over your display and your gloved hands brushed as he accepted it. Even through thick layers of material, you felt something electric pass between the two of you.

“Well, I’ll see you in an hour then?” You asked after clearing your throat and shoving down some rather naughty thoughts.

Robb’s curls fell in front of his face as he looked down and checked his smart watch. “Forty-three minutes, to be exact.”

“Then I’ll see you in forty-three minutes.” You smiled at him. He continued on his mission of handing out hot cider. Try as you might, you couldn’t help but count down the minutes as you sipped your cider.

Fluffcember Masterlist

[kneel4robbstark]

NORTHERN ATTITUDE

Game of Thrones ♔ Robb Stark/Original Female Character + Jon Snow/Original Female Character ♔ Enemies 2 Lovers

˚☽˚｡⋆𓃥˚☾˚｡⋆𓃢˚☽˚｡⋆𓃦˚☾˚｡⋆𓃥˚☽˚｡⋆𓃢˚☾˚｡⋆𓃦˚☽˚｡⋆𓃢˚☾˚｡⋆𓃦˚☽˚

⚔︎ S Y N O P S I S ⚔︎

If I get too close and I'm not how you hoped

Forgive my northern attitude, I was raised out in the cold

“They make a lovely couple. A Reynard and a Stark. They have no idea how dangerous that is.”

“Trust me. They do.”

King in the North, Robb Stark, is enemies with the Princess in the North. His first love—and his brother, Jon Snow’s. They loved to hate her as boys. But as men they hated to love her.

♫ P L A Y L I S T ♫

⚔︎ M A S T E R L I S T ⚔︎

***rating: 18+ (smut)

Dinner & Diatribes (coming soon!)

[sweetangel1111]

The fact that they confuse Sebastian Stan with Richard Madden is just funny to me.(the two look just a little alike, some people think Sebastian is on game of thrones) lol.

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2024-03-13

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Robb Stark stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

❆ Early Christmas￨Prt. II￨Prt. III [Modern! A.U.] ⧫ by letsasoiaftogether • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: "Robb Stark gets a surprise just a week before Christmas"

❆ Falling for You by imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "[An employee of the palae, you find yourself] falling for the King in the North, quite literally."

❆ Last Christmas by imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul • 〔F〕 •

Summary: The reader returns to Winterfell after spending three years in King’s Landing and three years since the last Christmas spent with Robb.

❆ Down Hill by the-dendrophile-bookdragon • 〔F〕 •

❆ Holidays with the Starks [Modern! A.U.] by megsironthrone • 〔F〕 •

❆ Mistletoe￨Prt. II by blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms • 〔F᜶M〕 •

❆ New Year's Kiss [Modern!Royal! A.U.] by megsironthrone • 〔F〕 •

❆ Snowball Fight by imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul • 〔F〕 •

See Also: Navigation || Robb Stark Master Index

Authors: @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms || @imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul || @letsasoiaftogether || @megsironthrone || @the-dendrophile-bookdragon ||

[yourloverfromthepast]

Kingo: Y/n, truth or dare?

Y/n: Uuhm, truth

Kingo: Would you rather kiss Ika-

Y/n: Ikaris.

Kingo: But...but I haven't even finished my sente-

Y/n: Again, Ikaris.

Kingo: Oh my- could you please stop interrupting m-

Y/n, shouting: IKARIIIIIS, KINGO JUST DARED ME TO KISS YOU, COME HERE

Kingo: HeY thAt is NOT TRUE!

[brinleyparke]

I added two new prompts

[bbywhitefox123]

description: Essex in an ER nurse and Richard Madden needs his wound stitched.

warnings: cheating

Essex leaned against the marble bar, the hard, smooth surface cold against her bare arms, and let the thumping bass of the nightclub drown out the roar of her thoughts. All around her, bodies moved to the pulse of the music, but she couldn't shake the gnawing memory clawing its way to the surface.

She'd dragged her tired ass home that morning, practically dragging her feet, dead on her feet from a double shift that left her hollow inside. That little girl...fuck, she hadn't even been five years old. Essex had stood there, helpless as the flatline echoed through the sterile room. And now she just wanted one thing - Andrew. She needed him to hold her, to tell her everything would be okay, to breathe some goddamn life back into her.

But when she walked into their bedroom, the bed was empty. Sheets twisted in a mess of sweaty fabric, undone, like he'd just rolled out of it. The fuck? It was seven in the goddamn morning - Andrew never got up this early unless he was dragged by the hair.

She heard the shower running from their en suite. A bitter smile tugged at her lips. "You, showering this early? Fuck me, maybe the world is ending," she called out as she leaned against the doorframe.

But there was no answer. And then, she heard it-Andrew's voice.

From behind her.

Essex had spun around so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet. There he was, standing in the doorway of the bedroom, holding a tray with breakfast. A smug grin plastered on his face like he hadn't just ripped the fucking floor from under her.

Her breath hitched as she whipped back to the bathroom. And that's when she saw her - a woman, dripping wet, stepping out of the shower like she fucking belonged there. Her face flushed, her dark hair stuck to her shoulders like some goddamn soft-core porno star. Her hair smelling of Essex’s new vanilla shampoo, and Essex’s soft towel wrapped around her lean body.

"You sick fuck," Essex hissed. The fury ripped through her, white hot. She barely remembered crossing the room, barely felt the sting of hot coffee splashing over her hand as she hurled the tray of breakfast straight at Andrew's chest.

Andrew had stammered out something, trying to backtrack, to gaslight her, as if there wasn't a naked woman right behind her, scrambling to cover herself with the towel. "Babe, it's not what it looks like—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Essex screamed. Her voice had been raw, brutal. She'd snapped. Chasing him around the house like a goddamn lunatic, plates smashing, her anger tearing through every fucking inch of her. The woman had tried to sneak out - god, the nerve of her. Essex had grabbed her by the hair and dragged her sorry ass out the front door, naked as the day she was born. She didn't give a shit who saw.

She caught her reflection in the mirrored walls of the nightclub now, her eyes hard, lips pulled tight in a sneer. No wonder Liam had told her not to come tonight. She'd debated it herself. Staying away would've been smarter - less messy. She wasn't sure what the fuck she was doing here anyway.

But she was here now, and there was no turning back.

She caught the eye of the bouncer guarding the entrance to the VIP section. The guy looked her up and down like she was another drunk chick trying to sneak her way in. Her lips twitched.

"I'm with Liam Keller," she said, her voice biting and sharp, daring him to challenge her. The bouncer's demeanor changed immediately, stepping aside with a nod.

As Essex walked past, she forced herself to think about anything other than that night. But it didn't work. She could still feel the rage simmering under her skin. Still taste the satisfaction of that door slamming shut behind the naked woman she'd thrown out like yesterday's trash.

She shook off the memory as she entered the dimly lit VIP lounge. Screw Andrew. Screw everything that had led her here. Tonight was for Liam. Maybe not the smartest choice, but fuck it. She wasn't here to make good decisions anymore.

Essex squared her shoulders as she entered the VIP section, the lights softer here but still pulsing with that nightclub energy that made everything feel charged. She spotted Liam near the back, surrounded by a cluster of people, his face bright with that easy, carefree grin he always wore. He looked good — better than good, actually, and for a second, she wondered why she'd even considered skipping this night.

She strutted over, her heels clicking on the floor, and as soon as Liam spotted her, his face lit up even more.

"Look who finally decided to show up," he said, opening his arms wide.

Essex smirked and rolled her eyes as she closed the distance between them. "Couldn't miss the chance to see you freak out about turning ancient," she teased, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "How's it feel, old man?"

"Ancient? I'm in my prime, baby." Liam laughed, his arm sliding around her waist for a half-second before he released her. "Thanks for coming, Essex. Thought you might ghost."

She shrugged, her eyes scanning the crowd around him. "I thought about it."

He smirked, but before he could respond, a familiar face caught her attention. Her old friends—people she'd left behind when she'd cut Andrew out of her life. They saw her too, a moment of surprise flashing across their faces before warm smiles replaced it.

"Essex! Oh my god, is that you?" one of them squealed, rushing toward her. It was Zara—God, she hadn't seen her in ages. They'd been close once, but after things went to shit with Andrew, Essex had disappeared without a word.

"Hey, Zara," Essex said, forcing a grin as she hugged her. The others followed, all chattering and throwing arms around her like nothing had changed.

"You've been a ghost!" Zara accused, half-laughing, half-pouting. "We missed you. You just...vanished."

Essex gave a noncommittal shrug, her lips twitching into a forced smile. "Yeah, well...life's a bitch." She gave them a pointed look. "You know how it goes."

They nodded, sympathy in their eyes, but the small talk buzzed on, and Essex let herself fall into it for a few moments. It was easier to pretend, to act like everything was fine, than to face the mess of emotions brewing beneath her skin.

But then, from the corner of her eye, she saw him—Andrew. That familiar swagger in his step, that smarmy fucking grin on his face as he approached. He opened his arms wide as if expecting a hug, his eyes gleaming like he still had some kind of hold on her. Like she would just fall back into him, forget everything that had happened.

"Essex," he said, all too cheerfully, stepping closer. "You look—"

She didn't even let him finish. Without missing a beat, Essex brushed right past him, her shoulder deliberately bumping into his chest as she made a beeline for the bar. She heard his footsteps falter behind her, could feel his confusion lingering in the air, but she didn't care. Fuck him. He wasn't worth the breath it would take to acknowledge him.

The bartender gave her a knowing look as she leaned against the counter. "Vodka. Double," she snapped. She needed to drown everything in her head—the memories, the regret, the anger. She couldn't do this sober. Not with him here, not with everything inside her screaming to explode again.

The glass appeared in front of her, and she didn't waste a second before throwing back the first shot, the burn sliding down her throat like an old, familiar friend. It wasn't enough, though. She needed more.

Another drink appeared, and this time she sipped slower, letting the alcohol seep into her bloodstream, trying to take the edge off. She could feel her old friends watching her from a distance, whispering among themselves, probably trying to figure out what the hell had happened between her and Andrew. She could feel Andrew, too, lurking nearby like some fucking vulture, just waiting for his chance to pounce.

She didn't give a shit. She was here for Liam, for a night of drowning out everything in her mind, not to play nice with her ex.

She downed the second drink, ignoring the voice in the back of her head telling her she had work tomorrow. She didn't give a fuck about that either.

Essex could feel the vodka hitting her bloodstream, dulling her edges, and pulling her deeper into the swirling madness of the nightclub. After downing two more drinks, she found herself pulled onto the dance floor, bodies grinding, the music pounding too loud to think straight. She wasn't even sure how it had happened - one second she was at the bar, the next she was pressed up against Liam's chest, his hands roaming a little too freely down her back, tugging her closer than she wanted to be.

Her arms were loose around his neck, and her body moved on autopilot. But her mind...her mind was fucking screaming. The longer she stayed here, the more the haze in her brain cleared, the more she saw just how screwed up this entire scene really was.

Zara, with that plastic smile plastered across her face, had waved her over earlier, all bubbly and fake as fuck. But Essex had caught the way Zara leaned into another friend's ear when she thought Essex wasn't looking, whispering something that had them both giggling like fucking teenagers. Something about how Essex had "disappeared" because she couldn't handle Andrew's wandering dick.

Essex clenched her teeth as she pushed harder against Liam, using the rhythm of the music to drown out her fury. Zara wasn't worth it. Not tonight.

But it got worse. Every time she glanced over at Andrew, there he was, laughing with some girl who was giggling way too fucking much at whatever dumb shit he was saying. His hand was on her thigh now, edging higher, and Essex felt a surge of bile rise in her throat. She had once been that girl. She had once been the one laughing at his shitty jokes, thinking she was special. She was sick of it, sick of all of them.

Liam's hands slid lower, brushing the curve of her ass, and she shoved him back instinctively, just enough to send the message.

He gave her a cocky grin. "What's the matter, babe? Thought you liked a bit of fun." His fingers brushed the waistband of her skirt again, trying to reel her back in.

She narrowed her eyes, her voice sharp. "Keep your hands where they fucking belong, Liam."

He laughed, but his hands didn't move for a second. "Relax, Essex. You're just wound up. Come on...we can pick up where we left off." He leaned in close, his breath hot against her neck. "You know you missed me."

Essex shoved him harder this time, breaking free of his grasp. "I didn't miss shit," she snapped. "Keep dreaming, though."

She turned away from him, her eyes scanning the crowd. She felt trapped - by the sweat, the bodies, the bullshit games everyone was playing. It was like she'd fallen back into a cesspool of all the reasons she'd walked away. Zara, gossiping behind her back. Andrew, still a snake, flirting with anything that had legs. And Liam, always thinking he could fuck his way into her life like nothing had changed.

The realization slammed into her like a punch to the gut - this was why she'd cut all these people off. This was why she'd distanced herself. They were toxic, selfish, and nothing had changed. If anything, they were worse now.

She needed out. Fast.

Essex made a beeline for the edge of the dance floor, weaving through the grinding bodies and flashing lights, barely muttering apologies when she bumped into someone. She needed air. Space. Fuck, she needed a fucking cigarette or a stiff drink - or both.

As she reached the exit to the VIP section, she heard Andrew's voice behind her. "Essex, wait—"

She didn't wait. She didn't even slow down. She didn't have the energy for his bullshit tonight, not when everything inside her was screaming for an escape.

But Andrew, stubborn as ever, caught up with her. "Hey, I'm talking to you," he said, grabbing her arm, a sliver of anger in his voice now. "What the hell's going on? You've been weird all night."

Essex yanked her arm free, spinning to face him. Her blood was boiling, and she was done holding back. "What's going on?" she spat. "Are you fucking serious? Look around, Andrew. You're still the same goddamn asshole you were when I left. Flirting with anything that moves. Acting like you're the king of this fucked-up little group."

Andrew's smirk faded, his brow furrowing. "Come on, don't be like that. You know how it is. It's just-"

"No, Andrew. I know exactly how it is,"

Essex cut him off. "That's the problem. I fucking know you. I know all of you. And I'm not playing this game again." She took a step back, her eyes blazing with anger. "So fuck you. Fuck Liam. Fuck Zara. I'm done."

Andrew opened his mouth to say something, but Essex didn't care. She turned on her heel and stormed toward the bar again. She needed to get drunk. Like, really fucking drunk. More than she already was. Because if she stayed sober, she knew she'd end up making some fucked-up decisions - decisions she might not be able to take back.

And right now? She didn't give a single fuck.

And she drank for that. She drank for not giving a single fuck. She drank so much that her throat was still burning even when she went outside the ridiculously priced nightclub. The cold London air did nothing to sober Essex up. She sat on the grimy pavement, legs sprawled out in front of her, a bottle in hand, laughing bitterly at the mess of her life. Her throat burned from all the vodka, and tears stung her eyes as memories surged—Andrew, that cheating prick, Liam, the disloyal bastard. All of it hit her like a punch to the gut, and the absurdity of it all made her laugh again, wild and broken.

Her laughter abruptly stopped when she heard a rich, familiar voice cut through the night.

"If it isn't Essex from London," Richard Madden drawled, his voice teasing but holding that touch of curiosity she remembered all too well.

Essex blinked and looked up, and there he was, standing over her with that cocky grin on his stupidly handsome face. She smirked through the haze of her drunkenness. "If it isn't Richard Madden from the ER," she shot back, her words slurring just a little.

Richard let out a low laugh, his eyes running over her with that irritating charm that always seemed to disarm people. His brows furrowed as he noticed her smudged makeup, her red, swollen upper lip like she'd been biting it raw to stop herself from crying. She didn't say anything about it. Why the hell should she? She didn't owe him an explanation.

"What's this, then?" Richard tilted his head, his smile fading as concern crept into his eyes. "Are you following me around, Essex?"

Essex barked a laugh, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it. "That's the cops' job," she fired back, waving her bottle lazily in the air. "I believe you still haven't given them a statement."

Richard grinned wider, stepping closer. "Or maybe you're just a fangirl," he teased, his voice dropping lower as he looked at her, eyes gleaming with amusement. "You can admit it. Don't be ashamed."

Essex snorted, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please," she groaned, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sign my tit! Have my babies!" She made a dramatic gesture of grabbing her chest, shoving it forward with a drunken grin. "Is that enough for you to leave me alone?"

Richard's laughter was deep and real this time, his shoulders shaking. He crouched down in front of her, his face inches away, eyes glinting with mischief. "You're absolutely mental," he said, shaking his head. But his gaze lingered on her lips, noticing how red they were. Essex could feel his eyes on her like a heatwave, and despite the night's cold air, her skin tingled.

"Don't flatter yourself," she shot back, but her voice wavered slightly. She swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how close he was. His presence was overwhelming, the scent of his cologne filling her senses, mixing with the alcohol already buzzing through her veins.

Richard's eyes flicked down to her lips again, and she bit her swollen lip harder, trying to control herself. It was like he could see right through her, through the bravado and the sarcasm, and that pissed her off, made her want to push him away and pull him closer all at the same time.

"Sign your tit, huh?" Richard said, smirking as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "Don't tempt me, love."

Essex scoffed, trying to laugh it off, but her heart hammered in her chest, her body betraying her. She shoved him back lightly, forcing some distance between them, trying to regain her composure. "Don't get any ideas," she said, her voice steadier this time. "You're not that special."

But the heat between them was undeniable, and as she stared into his eyes, she could feel the pull. Richard wasn't moving away either, his gaze fixed on hers, and for a split second, everything else fell away—the shitty night, the memories of Andrew, Liam, all the bullshit.

It was just him. And her. And the charged air between them.

"Come on, Essex," Richard murmured, his voice low and teasing, but with an edge of something darker, something real. "You've had a rough night. Maybe what you need is a distraction."

Essex arched a brow, her lips quirking up into a smirk. "And you think you're that distraction, do you?"

Richard's eyes sparkled with a challenge, his lips curling into a confident grin. "I'm a damn good one."

Essex laughed at that, loud and genuine, pushing him back again with a bit more force this time. "You wish, Madden," she said, her voice a little steadier now, though her heart was still racing. She stood up on wobbly legs, brushing herself off, and gave him a pointed look. "Not tonight."

Richard stood up beside her, watching her carefully, but there was no disappointment in his eyes—just that same amusement, like he was enjoying the game they were playing. "Suit yourself," he said with a shrug, though his grin told her this wasn't the end of it. Not by a long shot.

As Essex turned to walk away, she could still feel his eyes on her, burning into her back. The night wasn't over yet, and something told her that this encounter with Richard wasn't either.

But right now, all she needed was to put one foot in front of the other and get the hell out of here before she did something stupid. Something she couldn't take back.

Not tonight.

Essex staggered back into the club, the loud thrum of the music immediately hitting her like a wall. She should've called a cab, gone home, curled up in bed, and tried to get at least a few hours of sleep before her morning shift. But the idea of facing her empty apartment right now felt worse than staying in this chaotic mess of a night.

She wobbled up to the bar and dropped the half-empty bottle of vodka onto the counter with a clink. The bartender—an attractive guy with an easy smile—raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm returning this," she said, voice slightly slurred. "You know, like in Lidl or Aldi with the beer bottles? Do I get a discount?"

The bartender chuckled, shaking his head. "I wasn't supposed to give you that bottle in the first place," he said, his tone playful.

"Well, you did," Essex said, smiling back at him. "So, now I want my refund."

He leaned in a little, still grinning. "I can't give you a refund, but how about another drink on the house?"

Essex laughed, her mood lifting just slightly. "Fine," she said, shrugging. "But make it strong."

The bartender winked and slid a cocktail her way, something fruity with a lot of alcohol. She grabbed the glass and took a long sip, savoring the burn as it went down.

"You come here often?" the bartender asked, his tone flirty now.

"Only when I'm not busy saving lives," Essex replied, deadpan. She didn't have the energy for anything more tonight, not even banter.

Still, the drink did its job. Essex slid off the barstool, tossing a quick "Thanks" over her shoulder, and made her way back to the dancefloor.

The pulsing lights and the beat of the music felt like a reprieve from her thoughts. The drink in her hand, she let herself melt into the crowd, the bodies pressing in on all sides, the bass thudding through her chest. Dancing seemed easier than thinking, easier than feeling. She closed her eyes and let the rhythm take over, losing herself in the noise, in the haze of alcohol and sweat and bodies moving around her.

She didn't care that she had work tomorrow. She didn't care about the shitty night she'd had or the hangover she'd regret in the morning. Right now, all that mattered was the music, the heat, and the oblivion she was chasing one drink at a time.

Essex's head was swimming, but the club was pulling her deeper into its wild, intoxicating embrace. The guy she had been dancing with - some tall, well-dressed bloke with a sharp jawline and a grin that promised trouble - had leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "Come with me."

She didn't hesitate, not in the state she was in. One drink had turned into five, and her judgment was more than a little clouded. She let him guide her through the crowd, their bodies brushing as they moved, and she found herself stumbling into a VIP lounge she hadn't noticed earlier. This place was far more upscale than the area Liam had rented for his birthday. Velvet ropes, leather seats, a few private booths tucked into the back. It screamed luxury. And money. A lot of it.

Essex leaned in closer to the guy, smirking. "So, what do you do again?" she asked, her voice a little playful, a little slurred.

He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that vibrated through her bones. "I'm a director," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"A director, huh?" Essex repeated, half mocking, half intrigued. "Of what? Porn?"

He chuckled again, clearly enjoying her cheekiness. "Nah, love. Movies. But who knows, maybe one day."

Essex rolled her eyes, though she smiled back at him. He led her to a booth in the far back, the plush seats sinking under them as they sat down.

<- Chapter 2 Chapter 4->

[countrymusiclover]

1 - The Arrangement

Part 2

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons

When I was a child I wouldn't have believed you if you told me that one day I would find myself tangled in the claws of both a Lion and Wolf......

Monterys Velaryon, a name that every young child knew of our house before my grandparents died. He was declared the heir to Driftmark at only the age of six and got control of an entire fleet of ships and sea. The name doesn't truly live alive to this day...except for the fact that I exist as the only true born child. My father only was with one noble girl but she died giving birth to me.

But in this world women don't get any claim to a household

Walking through the castle hallways I was lost in my own thoughts about our current situation. It was declared that House Velaryon was to no longer have any high power when House Baratheon took the Iron Throne from the Targaryen.  So we had a small castle that was near the same sea that brushed up against Dragonstone that was also claimed by the Stag house too.

Footsteps came running down towards me when I stopped to peek out one of the windows. "! There you are. I went into your chambers but couldn't find you."

"You know I don't care about being stuck up in the same rooms all the time." I responded leaning my back against the wall responding to my lady in waiting who was also my best friend, Chezney Ally.

She became close to me since she had lost her mother at a later age then I did. Unfortunately I never got to know who she was. Chezney had dark brown hair pinned up into two braids while she wore a light blue dress to match our house colors. "You're not trapped here, ."

"Really. Let's think about this shall we." I tapped my chin with my index finger in thought. "I live in a castle that is only surrounded by sea and the only way I will ever be forced to never see this place again is if I wed off to some snob lord far far away."

Chezney sends me a raised brow. "Don't say that you could be wed to a young lord who is actually nice to you."

"Pfft I doubt that. But anyway, what were you wanting me for exactly?" I questioned my friend.

She clasped her hands together. "Since you're not busy with ridiculous lessons can we go swimming off the castle."

"Absolutely you know I love the thrill." I nodded in agreement where we both ran through the hallways. I wasn't wearing flat dress shoes like she was. I was wearing riding boots with a knee length sea blue tunic shirt that was big enough on me it looks like a dress.

Chezney swings opened the door that led to one of the boat docks that was just a little high above the water. She ran to the edge not caring about her clothes get wet when she hit down into the sea. "Come on, !" She cheered, pooping her head above water.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear I ran forward and hugged my knees to my chest. I hit the water and felt my hair that was in a braid slightly fall apart. "If I ever have a husband they better be fun or I'm running away." I swam up taking a breath once my head is out of water.

"And I'll come with you if they allow that." She replied, grinning at me.

Splashing some water playfully in her direction I laughed. "Of course I'll allow it and if they don't then I'll find a way to make them."

"Yeah I know you will. Uh oh they found us." Chezney splashed some water back at me looking over my shoulder and her smile dropped.

Turning around in the water I glared at the young guard my father had assigned to me for my protection since he was always busy with being Lord of the Tides. "What are you doing here, Antler!"

"You're wanted by the small council, My lady." He bowed with the wind catching his dark brown curly locks.

Shaking my head I grumbled. "What could they want with me? And tell whoever is asking that I am spending time with my friend."

"I don't think that will fair over with your father, Lady Haelesa ." Antler gulped in a slight nervous tone. "For he is the one asking for your presence at the time."

"I better go. Can't keep daddy waiting I suppose." I swam away and Chezney followed after me. We didn't bother changing into dry clothes since he clearly wanted to see me right this second.  Tying my boot laces back properly I sighed following Antler through the dark hallways. The castle was usually cold during nighttime but during the day the ocean wind wasn't unbearable. I honestly enjoyed the taste of sea more than most did and that's saying something since we're all raised to be able to handle sea life. The three of us finally halted outside a set of large double doors where Antler knocked three times signaling we were there.

The doors opened and I stepped inside seeing my father's lord advisors and him sitting around a circle table. The doors were shut behind me where I felt slightly nervous since Antler and Chezney were left outside in the hall. "Leave me alone to speak with my daughter now." My father Monterys declared getting to his feet.

"What did you want to talk to me about, father?" I questioned softly under my breath.

His eyes locked on mine. "It has come to my attention that our house is almost gone. Our heirs are either dying out or are Bastards by my only living son. That needs to change before we're gone forever."

"Change how?" I nervously asked him.

My father rounded the table and came to stand in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders before he spoke out. "It is past time you were wed, ."

"What...no." Immediately came from my mouth.

He lowers his gaze. "This isn't up for discussion, dear. It must happen to save our house and name."

"That's not right, father.  Something shouldn't just be done because it's been done for a thousand years and no one else has had the balls to change the tradition!" I snapped at my father in disbelief.

He drops his hands from my shoulders. "Watch your tone. You are my daughter and you will serve your house like your mother did before she died."

"If the only way I will ever see the rest of the world is through a ridiculous marriage then I have one condition. Chezney comes with me to whatever house you're sending me to for the rest of my life." I suggested to him with my hands on my hips.

The lord of the tides paused in thought watching me closely then finally replying. "Fine. I'll inform Lord Tywin of the response.....just remember where you come from my dear girl."

"The Old, the True, the Brave." I mumbled back to him when he started to walk away from me until I realized what he had said to me. "Wait a second you said Tywin Lannister?"

My father looked over his shoulder. "Yes I did. Tywin of House Lannister. You are to wed his eldest son Jaime. You will be sailed to Kings Landing and from there the wedding should take place within a fortnight."

"But isn't Jaime a member of the Kingsguard? He took the oath. He can't marry or bear children with anyone. He would be exactly like my brother." Listing off my fingers, this wasn't making sense anymore.

Lord Monterys moved back and sat down in his lord chair. He ran a hand over his chin in silence. I knew that he had a lot of weight on his shoulders and I was probably making it worse. Yet I had all the time in the world to read up on all the houses and history that we had gotten from Dragonstone. "Tywin has assured me that he was removed of his white cloak by King Robert Baratheon. The man who now seats the Iron Throne. So you shouldn't be worried about such matters. Now go back and start packing your leaving in a few days."

"Okay...I still love you father." Pausing in my step just beside the double doors I eyed my father in his chair figuring this would be the last time I saw him.

He sends me a grin. "I love you too, ."

The day for me to leave my family home had finally come to pass. The whole castle staff had been gathering supplies and getting the ship prepared that would go to King's Landing. Gazing out the window I just sat on the windowsill listening to the sea hit against the castle as best as I could. There was no guarantee that we would immediately go to Casterly Rock so this comforting sound needs to be my last memory of home. ", can I come in?" Chezney's voice broke me from the silence.

"It's open, Chez." I answered her, seeing her peak her head inside.

She shut the door with her foot behind her. "Antler sent me to inform you that everything is ready. We just need to get you dressed to go."

"I'm not wearing a tight dress on that boat. It doesn't matter if I'm marrying the wealthiest family in the seven kingdoms, I will be comfortable for as long as I can." I responded to my friend watching her go over to my chest of clothes and shoes searching around for what we could pick.

Sliding down from the seel my bare feet hit the wooden floor until I snagged my boots on. Tying the laces I stood upright. "Okay so let's do one of your brother's old tunics that he grew out of." Chezney draws out some dark blue trousers with a sea blue tunic.

"Can you do the braid your mother taught you?" I asked her to sit down at the window once I had changed my clothes for the trip.

She nodded beginning on the braid. "I heard some of the kitchen staff gossiping about the man you're to marry. They said that Jaime is supposed to be so handsome and the best swordsman in the kingdoms."

"Looks and sword skill aren't all that should define a person. From what I read about the Lannister's they throw gold at all their problems. It's the decisions that someone makes that matters." I rolled my eyes when she finished the braid, letting my silver-blonde hair over my right shoulder.

Chezney shakes her head. "Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll find your right person before your wedding." We clasped hands and left the castle with my father accompanying us on the journey. I don't really remember much of the trip. It was just a lot of sea and not many nights of proper sleep before we were woke to see a much warmer climate and a large populated city unlike what I was used to.

One of the Baratheon guards helped me out of the boat when we ported it to land. My gaze shifted around recognizing the certain king and his queen that was Jaime's twin sister Cersei. "Lady Velaryon, here I thought that your house was gone for good. And all the material with your name had been forged into weapons." Someone remarked in my direction where my gaze shifted across the crowd of people.

I finally stopped searching when I met a second pair of green eyes and blonde hair that fell almost down to his shoulders. And a sword attached to his hip. "Jaime Lannister, I presume."

"The one and only, my lady." He smirked at me smugly.

Putting one hand on my hip I flipped my hair out of my face, getting the sense that I was right about what I read about this family. "Well, be careful, Lannister. My house may not be as known as yours. But I may surprise you and everyone here." Jaime smirked still down at me before I took a bow in front of him and Chezney just quietly smiled at our interaction knowing this was not going to be an easy arrangement.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[raqnarokr]

Why'd you only call me when you're high?

Pairing || Ikaris x Original Female Character (Mia)

Summary || Mia loved Ikaris since the day she first saw him. And he liked her not in the way she did. But when he finally understood that, it was too late.

Word count || 757

Warnings & Contents || +18 content, Minors Do Not Interact, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcohol, Implied/Referenced Cheating, No Happy Ending, Break Up, Angst, Drama

Author's note || This is written in First POV and Dual POV and based on Arctic Monkeys song with the same title.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language, so my apologies for any misunderstandings or mistakes.

→ Marvel Masterlist

“Now it's three in the morning and I'm trying to change your mind”

Mia's pov:

3am. They say there's three types of people awake at this time: the one's who have insomnia, the one's who think this is the supernatural peak time and the heartbroken one's. I'm the last option. And you're helping breaking my heart once again. I have 10 missed calls from him. I send him a message. A clear one. I'm trying to change his mind. Things are not gonna work. Not now. Maybe a few months earlier would work. But after what happen? No way I would go back to him. I prefer being heartbroken than humiliate myself again.

[...] → read more here

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[mindibindi]

hi! i have absolutely no idea how tumblr works, so i am assuming this is tumblr's version of a DM? anyways, just wanted to say that i absolutely ADORE your writing. i read "Fugitive" on AO3 which led me to post your about why Julia and David were, in fact, very much in love. boy, was it a long one. still, whilst reading it, i couldn't help but be utterly in awe of your diction and writing style. i'm currently a student, but i hope that one day i'll be able to write with the same prowess as you!

Hey there, THANK YOU and I AM SORRY. I briefly turned into a "Doctor Who" blog as the 60th anniversary specials were airing. Just catching up now with all my other fandoms! Welcome to tumblr (which does have a messaging app) but this is totally fine (asks can be responded to publically or privately). I always love hearing that my stories are still being read and enjoyed. I briefly came out of self-imposed retirement to pen "Fugitive" and because I felt so strongly about the pairing, despite the fact that we got so little of them. What was there was so rich, hence the long meta post(s?) which is kinda my thing and I make no apologies for it. (I'm also a student (lit crit of course) and I have worked as a writing coach too. I always say that you never stop improving your writing and the best way to improve it is simply to WRITEWRITEWRITEWRITE). I wrote another long meta post about David and Julia but tumblr banned it (cos sex with the Home Secretary is a heinous crime apparently). I also wrote another fic for these two, if you are interested. You can find it in two parts on AO3:

Thanks again for the mail and best of luck with your studies. :)