I seriously didn’t expect anyone to ask for a part 2, let alone a part 3!!
NOT MY GIF
As luck would have it, your grand plan of avoiding Robb in the hopes of forgetting that anything had ever happened between the two of you and that things would go back to normal before long, had lasted for an hour.
Robb, having cleared his day of meetings and strategy planning, had decided to pursue you. At first, this had meant romantically, but now it meant physically. If you were no longer going to go to him, then he would have to go to you.
He didn’t have to search for long. There you were, helping some of his men prepare food. Some of them were looking at you, some weren’t even looking at you but were looking at some of the other men, and some were more focused on the task at hand. He smiled as he watched you skilfully handle the blade, eyes glazed over as you got lost in the familiarity of the task at hand.
You knew that he was there, and Robb was aware of that fact. Your eyes had darted up to meet his and then you’d looked away again, an interesting shade of pink on your face. He waited patiently, busying himself with sharpening his sword, soon losing himself in the rhythm, just as you had with the food preparation, and before long, dinner was ready to eat, dusk had fallen, and you were standing before Robb, his hair practically red in the orange glow of the low sun.
You said nothing, standing in front of him. Whatever he had to say was important enough to justify seeking you out, so you supposed that you stay around to listen to him. He was your King, after all, and you were his makeshift handmaiden.
You could feel his eyes on your face, his expression unreadable. You cleared your throat, and it was then that his eyes darted up to meet yours. He rose, and you took an unconscious step backwards. He faltered, and you had the vague feeling that he had wondered if you’d thought that he was going to hurt you. Not all Kings treated handmaidens as nicely as the King in the North did.
“Come with me.” His low voice rumbled in his chest, and you barely suppressed a shiver. There was a dark undertone to his voice, an undertone that you’d heard whispers about between other female servants as they spoke about matters transpiring between themselves and other Lords and Ladies in the darkness.
He turned and walked, holding a hand out to help you across particularly rocky parts of the path, dropping your hand gently as soon as he was able. He was a gentleman, and you blushed often. Finally, you arrived a ways of the path from the camp, though it was still in your line of sight.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” His eyes held yours intently. It wasn’t meant to intimidate, it was meant to keep your eyes on his.
You shifted uncomfortably, deciding that the best way to get your thoughts across was to gracelessly blurt it out. “I can’t be near you unless I can be with you. The way you look at me is the way I’ve always wanted someone to look at me, and it hurts that it’s you. It hurts because this is wrong. You’re supposed to be betrothed to another, to help with the allegiance of your House with another, and I can never be that person for you. I love you but you -” what you had been about to say, Robb never knew.
His lips crashed down onto yours, his large hands grasping your shoulders as he held you tightly, though of course it wasn’t enough to bruise. He kissed you until the need for air became desperate, and pulled back to nestle his face into the crook of your neck, his lips resting against your skin.
“Don’t leave me, Y/N. I won’t marry that girl. I will stay by your side until this war is over, and then we shall be wed. I swear it.”
This fic is based on Look After you by The Fray which you can listen to here (recommended but not necessary). Peter has a bad day and really needs your comfort. NOTE: contains a mild spoiler for spider-man:homecoming if you haven’t seen it yet.
Words: 876 Warnings: none Pairing: Tom!Peter Parker x reader
not my gif
As soon as you stepped out of your last class of the day, you check your phone. It had been buzzing non-stop all period, which was mildly alarming to say the least. Upon investigation, you see that you have six texts, two missed calls, and one voicemail, all from your boyfriend Peter.
You quickly scan the messages. Each are short and mainly consist of the words “need you”, “now”, “please”. You click on the voicemail and hold your phone between your ear and shoulder as you open your locker and grab your homework.
“Hey, u-uh, I had a little incident with Mr. Stark and I… I’m just.. I’m at home, and May isn’t here, and I just really need.. I need you, (y/n), so if you could come over maybe or call me. It’s important.”