Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines (Completed)

Robb Stark X Reader - The Young Wolf (Requested)

You were shit at your job; there was no doubt about it. You weren't a born cook, nor a skilled kitchen girl, but here you were labouring over a stove in the Kitchens of Winterfell, slaving away to create a feast fit for the King and his family. You had been chopping onions with tears trickling down your face when the main cookery maid pushed you out of the way, sending you a glare before quickly slicing through them with a skill you had yet to master.

"Just stand by the pots and try not to make a mess of anything," she hissed and you nodded before taking you place beside one of the stoves. It was no lie that you had been hired for your looks; you were a pretty girl and older Lords would find you appealing, which pleased the rest of the staff, despite making you feel like a piece of meat. But of course you would flirt along, hoping for a tip of some sort; men always tipped you in hopes of a little more than a serving girl, though you never allowed them to bed you.

Serving wasn't all bad, especially when it was just the Starks dining. The family were kind and gave you thanks for your work, where many other high-born families were unlikely to. And their oldest son Robb was sweet, often sending you hidden smiles and winks, and though he was a few years older than yourself you couldn't help but return the coy smiles.

You weren't so much a fan of Robb's friend Theon, however. He was a much more handsy boy, there was hardly a meal where you wouldn't feel his hands on your behind as you leant over the table to pour extra wine or put out extra bread. You had told the older serving women about it but they told you that he was a boy, and that was how boys behaved in high-born families. You knew they were wrong, Robb had never as much as put a hand on you and he was high-born, though you were sure you wouldn't have minded as much if he did touch you as Theon did.

"Y/N, you've got work to do," the older cook yelled to you, shocking you out of your thoughts and causing you to jump. You quickly straightened out your dress and picked up the two jugs of Dornish wine which were sitting by the doors before lifting your head, forcing a smile onto your face and walking out into the crowded room.

The evening had started out well, you had shared some fleeting glances with Robb and given him a sweet, flirty smile every time you had caught him watching you. It had all been fine until you felt a large hand smack against your backside, causing you to gasp in surprise as you span to glare at the man, only to find the King smiling back at you.

"Pour us some more wine, pretty girl," he roared happily as he watched you move towards his cup, his smile growing as he wrapped his arm around your waist. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he grunted out as he pulled you in closer causing you to spill some of the wine onto the wooden table. You could feel the Queen's eyes boring into your back and your cheeks flushed as you attempted to move away, only to be held in place by her husband.

"It's Y/N, Your Grace," you paused for a moment, silently searching for a reason to escape. "Please excuse me; I need to find something to clean up this mess," you told him with a smile before quickly slipping out of his grip and hurrying back into the kitchen, allowing the door to close gently behind you as you leant onto the cool wooden work surface.

A few moments later, you heard the door open and close behind you and flinched at the sound. You didn't want to deal with more drunk men, with their grabby hands and bad, alcohol tinted breath.

"Are you alright?" you heard Robb speak softly, and you turned on the spot to stare at him in surprise, giving him a quick but silent nod. "You don't have to serve anymore tonight if you don't want to. We all know what the King can be like," he told you and you smiled gratefully over at him, your hands running over your skirt as you grew uncomfortable in his presence.

"Thank you, M'lord," you muttered under your breath and he smiled softly at you. "You and your family are very honourable to show me such kindness," you added before turning back to the table and grabbing one of the rags, dragging it lightly across the surface, cleaning to distract yourself from saying something stupid.

"They weren't my families orders, they were my own," he told you, moving around the table to look into your face as you smiled up at him.

"Then thank you. You are a kinder man than most, M'lord," you told him, allowing a smile to creep onto your face as your eyes met his, blushing lightly as he held your gaze. Of course you liked Robb, he was tall and broad and handsome, and not too much older than yourself. And though you knew his parents would never approve of you as a match, you liked to imagine what your life would be like, and what features your children would have. Would they get his curly hair, or his soft brown eyes?

"Actually, I think it was more greed than kindness. I don't like other men touching you," he muttered and you chuckled lightly at his confession, your cheeks turning redder as you felt his eyes on you.

"I didn't think you would be a jealous man, M'lord," you chuckled , leaning in your elbows against the table which sat between you and smiling up at him, getting a boost of confidence as he ran his hand through his hair, his cheeks heating up and turning red.

"I'm not jealous," he huffed at you, moving to copy your stance against the table so that you were looking into each other faces. When he saw your smirk he spoke up again. "I am not jealous," he told you more firmly causing you to chuckle.

"Of course not, M'lord," you smirked again and he scoffed at your laughter.

"If not liking seeing women being manhandled by our fat, drunken King is being jealous then I am the most jealous man in the Seven Kingdoms," he hummed at you, still staring into your eyes and moving his hand to push some of your hair back behind your ear before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips.

You pulled away quickly, standing up straight as you looked at his shocked expression. "I'm sorry, M'lord, but this isn't a good idea," you told him as you crossed your arms over your chest, turning your back on him as your eyes filled with tears.

"Y/N?" he questioned, coming up behind you and putting his hands on your shoulders. "What are you talking about?" he asked letting his fingers run gently over your uncovered shoulders.

"It isn't right for a high-born to be kissing a woman like me, you should be speaking with the little Ladies in there and sweeping them off of their feet," you muttered, shrugging out from under his warm hands and moving away quickly, attempting to stay looking the other way. You knew that if you saw his face you would lose all resolve and kiss him again.

"I don't want them, I want you," he grumbled like a spoilt child, coming up behind you again and pressing his lips to your neck, kissing the soft skin gently.

"Your Mother would hate me, she has such high expectations for you," you spoke through gritted teeth as his lips continued to assault your neck, your hands gripping the rag that you were still holding.

"I don't care what my mother thinks, she'll accept you eventually," he told you as he pulled away, turning you around with his firm grip to cup your face in his hand. "I want to be with you, I've wanted to be with you since the first moment I saw you," he added, as he leant in to kiss you again, smiling into it when you kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

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