#(( and they will not be able to get out of this without squaring with that single ever-important fact

[ms-demeanor]

So I have vision insurance again which means I was able to go to the optometrist and get glasses through insurance for the first time in 11 years (instead of paying out of pocket and getting glasses from zenni) and here are my notes:

It's *NOT GREAT* that Luxotica is mentioned by name on the insurance card printout

I know everything got more expensive in the last ten years, but frames also got a lot more expensive and for some reason there was a huge gap in prices - my insurance covered $130 for frames and the office had a bunch of frames for $70 and a bunch of frames for $150 but basically no frames between those two price points.

When you say "I can't afford to go over the allowance" on XYZ thing they are not even *considering* the cost of progressive bifocals. So I was like "no coating, cheap frames, no extras" and then they were like "okay so the progressive bifocal is going to be over a hundred dollars more" and I was like "how much is the bifocal with a line" and they were like "oh that's only $15 but we don't consider that appropriate for your age, we recommend this other kind of lens" and it doesn't matter what you consider age appropriate for me, I can't afford that so we're not doing that.

The seventy dollar frames are all kind of trash. Super thin, super bendy, and not in a good "flexible fit" way but more in a "if you fall asleep in these you will wake up with broken glasses" way.

They wrote down my reading prescription wrong? For the last ten years I've been slowly creeping up from +.25 to my current +2.50; they told me it had increased but the printout said +.75 so either my prescription has been wrong for a while or they missed the 2 at the front of that number and my glasses are going to show up with a low magnification. (I noticed after I'd left the office but before the glasses arrived).

Given all of that, with insurance: $25 for a pair of glasses, which included the office copay.

So then of course I went to zenni and ordered glasses anyway because I've been wearing the same frame design for seven years and want another pair that look exactly like that.

Progressive bifocals WERE the most expensive part of the order, and because my prescription is stronger they are getting progressively more expensive - initially the upgrade to bifocal cost something like $30 for a lower magnification, now they're $85 for the stronger prescription.

And that's it, that's the expensive part. Fifteen dollar frames, five dollar anti-reflective coating, total for bifocals was around a hundred dollars; I got a pair of single-vision sunglasses for under $20.

Part of the reason I decided to spend more at zenni than at my optometrist's office was because I was able to get good, sturdy frames that I know fit my face and will survive mosh pits and me falling asleep on them without cracking. In order to get the same thing at the optometrist's office I would have had to pay thirty dollars more for lenses as well as forty more for frames so I would have walked out of there paying more for a pair of glasses with frames that I wasn't super excited about (there was a pair that was *okay* but not great that were similar in construction to my current frames but more bulky and square) than I did for glasses that I know I like and a pair of sunglasses.

I did end up paying less out of pocket for the visit than I would have without the insurance, and $15 for a pair of back-up glasses isn't bad. But it was all-in-all a frustrating experience.

However: I've been wearing the same pair of glasses for three years and the anti-reflective coating is worn away in some places and they're so scratched that they're impossible to actually clean in some places and large bastard looked through them last week and was like "OH! No wonder you can't tell when you need to clean your windshield! You don't get to drive at night until those are replaced" so no matter what glasses I'm wearing next week they're going to be an improvement.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

Stoking the Flames

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (one sided)

Length: 23.4k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, discussions of abusive relationships, implied past sexual abuse, smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, mentions of anal, breeding kink

Notes: Enjoy the calm while it lasts, because part 5 is going to be a whammy of juicy whiplashing content. Previous Modern! AU Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Your eyes shined brightly, something both almost a wonder and yet in something a bit emotional as you looked it over. Hand running gently down along the soft material as your eyes tracked it all the way down to the ground. The designs on it were a faint grey along the white colour, but they were there and intertwined along the arms and front of the skirt to create a gentle abstract look. There was a bit of lace along the arms as well but not so see through that you’d be able to notice much skin, more to give it a sheer look.

You hadn’t laid eyes on it in months, you hadn’t even expected to see it again. After the call that Ramsay had cancelled the dinner on you even despite that being the rescheduled one, you had give up on needing it. A fancy restaurant in Torrhen’s Square, and Ramsay had sent you out to a specific store to acquire a specific dress he wanted you to wear to the date. You had come close to buying it, a short, thin strapped red dress that was tight and showed off far more cleavage then you’d ever willingly choose alone. Waiting for the attendant to come back with your size, Jon had muttered to you that he’d be right back.

He had taken you there, not wanting you to take public transportation that far into the city alone. But you had waited alone for the dress, your mind solely on another. The one you in the present were gazing over. You had spotted it the moment you walked in, on a rack surrounded by other assorted things which appeared mostly vintage, but you were not told to get it, so you ignored it no matter how much it caught your eye. Before the attendant even came back, Jon had brought it over to you and nearly shoved you into the dressing room to try it on without listening to you protest.

He was right, you didn’t know how he knew but it had been beautiful. It had gone unspoken between you both, that Jon was very clearly trying to hold himself back from just telling you he’d buy it for you, standing begrudgingly quiet at the checkout counter. Then Ramsay cancelled, twice. And you knew such a dress wasn’t going to be needed for anything else, you didn’t do fancy events, it was supposed to be special. You had put it in the bottom of a box to donate, not wanting to look at it again and you thought no more of it when you dropped said box off one afternoon.

Yet now, you stood in Jons room, your eyes running all over the beautiful dress you thought you’d never be able to wear, all because Jon saw it in the donate pile, and rescued it. So you could wear it one day in the future like he thought you deserved.

Turning to look back at him, Jon was leaning back against his desk. Fiddling with his phone, he was clearly trying to pretend he wasn’t watching you adamantly. But his peeking grey eyes were wide as they caught yours, the expression trying to hide away that he was somewhat anxious about what you were to say about him keeping it for you. But your voice softened those worries in an instant, gentle as it was he could still hear from across the room. “You kept it this whole time just for me?”

Jon’s response however, just made your expression fall flat as his grew into a grin. “I don’t think it’d suit me.” Your head tilted before turning to look back at it, the beginning sound of Jon approaching before you felt two hands sit along your waist. Putting his chest against your back, he let his hands run smoothly up and down to your hip and back. Your hand busy running along the skirt of the dress which you could reach as he leaned down to mutter into your ear. “It looked beautiful on you, I didn’t want that to be for nothing.” Pausing before his voice ran a little rougher, while attempting to sound as if he wasn’t feeling so. “Even if it meant only showing you I kept it for you, because I thought maybe Ramsay would’ve done something nice for you once.”

Biting down on your tongue, something in you felt both distant at the name, but warm through your veins at the insinuation. Feeling Jons lips suddenly press down against your neck, you somewhat leaned back into his touch, only for Jon to interrupt himself, muttering muffled against you that he needed more room not less. Finally bringing a smile back out onto your lips with a small shake of your head. “I wasn’t trying to-”

His chuckle vibrated against your back, sinking into your skin and reaching your heart making it feel light at the sound. Interrupting you, Jon smartly switched back to the topic at the forefront of his mind. “You don’t have to wear it. I just wanted you to know you could, if you want.”

A hand left the dress, reaching to grasp gently at one of his hands only for Jon to grasp it in his larger one. Wrapping it around your front to keep you pressed against him, the side of his head rested gentle against yours as he looked down at your thought filled expression. “You don’t think it would be too much?”

Again he chuckled, pulling you closer it possible as he dropped his head back to kiss just under your ear to rasp into it. “It’s a wedding, darling. If there’s one place you’re allowed to wear a gown like this.”

Naturally, you had been hesitant to agree to go in the first place. You didn’t truly know the bride nor groom, but it was Sam’s brother getting married. Dickon apparently had told his brother to give him the names of people from the North he wanted to invite, and whatever partner’s they may wish to bring. Sam naturally knew out of anyone only two people would go with him all the way back to Horn Hill for such an event. Gilly agreed right away, excited to see where Sam grew up, and Jon didn’t hesitate to go.

Knowing Sam and his father had a not so good past as it was put gently to you. Jon hadn’t thought twice to mention to Sam that you’d be his plus one, before he had even brought it up to you at all. It made sense in his head, bringing you with him until he told you, and that nervous look came about your face suddenly.

Plans had all been made, but one thing remained. You had needed something to wear, and you had nothing appropriate for a wedding. That was when Jon opened the side of his closet that you rarely ever saw, normally where his Nights Watch attire was kept and you saw a familiar, long, white gown draped against the floor even from where it hung.

Starting to mutter that you didn’t have to wear it, you took the reigns and was the one to cut Jon off first that time. “I want too.” Trying to catch your eye from behind you, you choose to quickly let slip and turn in Jons arms. Not moving anywhere from him, but your hands now braced on his own arms close to where he had swapped to holding by your waist. “At least if I wear it for this, I’ll have a chance to wear it beside the one person who actually wanted me to get it.”

His brows narrowed. Your own face fell just slightly, as Jon picked up on you realizing the sudden switch in the emotions between you. You hadn’t meant it to come out that way, but it did and Jon had you way too close between him and his closet to escape his questions now. “What does that mean?” Shaking your head, you opened your mouth to a lie that Jon cut off before it even left your lips. “Why wouldn’t he have wanted you to get the dress you liked?” Your silence unfortunately, spoke that answer for you as Jon was smart enough to put it together. “You told me the dress you were looking at was just a style Ramsay had mentioned before.” Your continued silence only made it worse as you looked to the side away from him, Jon leaning down to try and catch your gaze more to his increasingly frustrated one as he more sternly muttered your name.

Fingers flexing meekly against where you held at his arms, your voice attempted to play it off as it meaning nothing, despite knowing the real answer was going to make him mad. “Ramsay sent me to that store on purpose.” Jon only waited for you to say the real answer you weren’t yet saying. “I was supposed to get the red dress specifically. For the date.” The manner which you awkwardly muttered the rest of it weighed a thousand pounds between you both. “So I could finally wear something that might make him want to actually...go to bed with me.”

You were both well aware that you had phrased it much more diplomatically then what Ramsay would’ve really said and you could see that anger flaring up in Jons eyes. Tone dropped there was an edge behind it, yet his hands held you no tighter. “Make him want to-” Cutting himself off, Jons head dropped for a moment as his eyes closed. Inhaling through his nose, you knew he was trying to keep it down for your sake here and now when he looked back up at you. One hand drifting from your waist to cup your cheek. “You shouldn’t be dressing a certain way so your own boyfriend will want to fuck you.”

Swallowing roughly, it seemed Jon had no issue jumping right to the more direct path of what you were speaking around. It wasn’t meant as a defence for him, and Jon knew that, but you so easily reverted back to someone a bit less confident in what you both had, defaulting to saying something just to appease Jon. “It wasn’t like that, it was only something he said once or twice. We did things anyways, he didn’t mean it.”

Head jolting back a little, Jon took the moment to look you over more seriously. Turning you by his hold at your cheek to meet his eyes, much wider but a more sad softness within them then you would’ve otherwise expected. His thumb ran along the skin of your cheek he could find each passing moment. “That has nothing to do with why he said it. He fucked you because you let him, you didn’t have to do anything to get him to do that. He told you to dress like that, to buy that dress in particular, because he wanted to prove to you and himself, that you’d always do whatever he said.”

“I only-”

Swapping to cup both of your cheeks, Jon turned your head up at an angle you had no choice but to look him in the eyes. “Darling, you don’t have to defend him, you know that.” Nodding ever so slightly in his hold, Jon sighed at the motion. Pressing his lips to your forehead before resting his against yours, your arms now gently grasping at his waist, the only sound in the air between you was his gentle rasp. “You don’t have to wear the dress, we can go out right now and spend however long it takes to find you one you like-”

Shaking your head as much as you could in his touch, your eyes were a bit brighter then before. “No, I want to wear it. You kept it for me.” Sighing deeply again, Jon pulled back to seek your eyes out only to find genuinity within them. That time, you leaned up yourself.

Meeting you in the middle, whenever it was a kiss you initiated, it never was anything more then something sweet and chaste. Wrapping an arm around your lower back, Jon pulled you close so one of your hands was forced high up against his torso. His other hand tilting your head at the perfect angle for him, despite you being the one to start. You went in with something innocent but Jon deepened the kiss within mere seconds.

His lips soft against yours, he always took the lead. His kiss guided you no matter who started it, pulling you along to let him enjoy you the way he needed. Which could be endless. It was still new to you, even after three months together, it was still a matter of getting used too. The way which Jon truly, deeply loved to kiss you. Some nights, Jon would hover over you in bed with the intention of sinking deep inside of you, but could get so preoccupied in your kiss that an hour could pass and he made no further move to escalate things.

Ramsay and Karl Tanner had only ever kissed you enough to keep up the appearance that they were trying. Kiss you to greet you once or twice in a day, but sometimes those weren’t even to your lips, a press to your cheek felt sweet at the time when you thought it was normal for men not to enjoy kissing the way you wanted to try more of. But now, with Jon? It was obvious how much they were both trying to trick you into thinking it was normal to never give you attention, that it was how relationships worked in the real world and you were just too sheltered as a child to have learned that lesson.

Yet, each breath of air as you stood there, was stolen by Jon with such passion. He controlled your every act here, and yet it was not a trick of any sorts. He could kiss you until you were faint, and still trail his lips along your neck afterwards without ever stopping. Even now, your hands wrapping around the back of his neck, Jons hand on your cheek moved to your jaw. Better keeping you in place, kissing you again and again with no care to stop. The hand around your front slid to your hip, running smoothly over your pants with his palm before it somewhat begun to tease elsewhere.

Never yet committing, but you felt his fingertips toy with the idea of digging into your ass without committing. He had never taken you there, not truly. The first night you both properly begun to make up though, he had introduced you to the idea. That it wasn’t just for him, that he promised that if you were alright with it, he could make you feel good with that as well.

Even now as he kissed you without moving indecently, you felt a flush crawl through your body at the thought. Jon had taken you in every other way that night. Tasting between your legs until he pulled tears from your eyes at how much he purposely left you overstimulated. How finally, finally, he let you get on your knees. The feeling of his hand at your jaw now reminding you of the controlling way he gripped your hair, how he ran his fingers through the soft stands even though he had you pressed right up against the coarse hair around his cock as he spilled down your throat. Then, you were alright enough to take him properly after. You weren’t even sure how much you came at that point, your mind a bit of a fog as Jon dictated the whole night. But then he wasn’t yet done.

Waiting until you could stand on two feet, Jon guided you to his dresser, the mirror sitting against it showing what a mess you were. Covered in marks and bruises from his lips and teeth, bruises along your hips where he grabbed you and the lewd, undeniable sight of traces of his seed left between your legs. Guiding you to relax against the wooden surface, Jon gently lulled you into it.

The feeling strange and hurt a bit at first, but the more Jon rasped in your ear and the more his other hand ran across your clit to help, did it get easier. One, then two, by the time Jon managed to get you to cum one last time for him, he had just managed to fit three thick fingers deep into your ass before he was done. Carrying you back to bed, you had fallen asleep not long after to the gentle murmurings in your ear that you did so well for him.

But now, Jon didn’t take it that far, no matter how much your mind felt a bit guilty for drifting towards it. Once, twice, three times Jon had gone back to kiss you again when he was the one who pulled back first. Gently nudging your nose as you playfully did it right back, a small smile formed on his face. His hand returning back to your waist much more obviously. “It’ll be our first time at an event as a proper couple.”

The fluster showed through your small smile, only making Jons grow brighter against his handsome features. “We’ll only be gone a few days?”

Jon nodded, returning to let the hand at your haw begun to run through your hair again and again almost mindlessly. “We’ll get there in the afternoon, the wedding is that evening. I thought we could stay the next day, have a chance to sleep in, walk around the town, and take our time going home the next day.”

Your eyes narrowing playfully, Jon picked up on your tease right away. “This going to be your first wedding under the Seven, Snow?”

Jon only leaned in to press a kiss to your lips again with a smirk. “If I don’t burst into flames walking to a sept, it will be.” Jon had no care when he interrupted your laugh with a more firm kiss of his own. Unbeknownst to you, Jon certainly was having other thoughts about being with you at a wedding, and how much he was fighting with himself to keep those thoughts down.

Not that you’d know, but you helped a good degree in that matter at the least. The joke far too easy on your tongue as your brow raised playfully. “Suppose every tradition sounds strange to someone who prays to a tree.”

Jon didn’t hesitate to roll his eyes, grabbed you by the waist and all but hauling you in his arms across the room. Only to catch the attention of Ghost, who didn’t hesitate to run over to you both taking it as a sign to play. Part of you could only dread as the weather begun to grow colder and colder, how swiftly both wolves would take advantage and see how often they could all but knock you down into piles of snow.

“So what is the point of this again?”

Theon didn’t even need to take his eyes off the screen, wide to the point you were surprised there weren’t tears. “To get the fastest time.” Your face fell instantly, looking over to where you knew he could feel your stare as you asked why specifically. The subsequent smirk only told you that he had been vague on purpose. “Do you want the real answer or the mature answer?” Your silence told him everything. “Normally you do it to get the best time in the world, there’s a site dedicated to speed runs of games and it’s a lot of competition to be the best. The real answer is Arya said I couldn’t beat her time and if I’m going to prove her wrong I need to practice.”

Your eyes rolled as you let a smirk fall over your face, the lack of any shock that Arya was involved in any way. As you merely sat and watched, you looked over to the window on the other side of the room, the sky growing pitch black out. Telling yourself not to look at the time, it didn’t matter. He’d come home when he’d come home, you knew that. He told you that. But for some reason, you felt yourself constantly looking over to the window waiting for car lights to suddenly appear when they continued not too.

The couch you sat on always felt like it has so much room when you were by yourself, until any one of the three came along and sat next to you, feeling like the were so broad their shoulders needed a seat and a half. A sigh left Robb as he sat next to you, and you not at all aware of how as he let an arm reach along to rest against the back, how close he could come to toying with the loose strands of your hair secretly if he chose to do so.

He asked casually, you thought nothing of it or his tone, despite the slight head turn of Theon as he picked up on it, as Robb asked if Jon was going to be late again.

You nodded casually. “He said he’d rather work the overtime shift now then give up his off hours to make up for it when we get back.” You didn’t see any expression on his face, nor did you have reason to think there would be any. Asking where the wedding was, your eyes glanced over to his finally which appeared to look normal. Now missing how Theon did in fact turn his head to watch a few times with a suspicious look. “Horn Hill. It’s just a little south of Highgarden.”

“I’ve never been in the Reach.”

You only shrugged, a first hand knowledge of there and here and you knew which was better. “You aren’t missing much. It’s by the Sunset Sea which is nice, but it’s so close to Dorne that it’s unbearably hot in the summertime. Can’t imagine a Northerner would have much love for it.” Robb jesting that you got used to the opposite had you smirk a little. “Getting used to the cold is a lot easier then getting used to the heat. You get cold you just pile on layers, you overheat there’s only so many things you can do about it.”

The joke was nothing he had never said before to you, and you thought nothing of it once more, a playful grin in both his eyes and smile as Robb leaned more against the other edge of the couch gesturing down to you with a nod. “Think there’s a few things you could do about being too hot.”

The flustered smile came with an eye roll, moving to nudge at him with your leg, it pulled a warm laugh from him as you told him to shut up.

Your hair had grown out in the past few months, longer then it had been in years. A bit in a mess from being at the end of the day, it was easier. For strands to be gently toyed with and you didn’t notice. Robb too was subtle, able to let his eyes drift away from you right as you’d possibly catch him watching you. Only a few times did Theon be the one to meet his gaze when he’d turn away, but you didn’t spot that either.

Theon though, wasn’t the only one. By the time lights appeared in the window, clearly Jon had gotten home but by then you had been too preoccupied with Grey Wind practically asleep on your feet to be able to get up, and neither Robb or Theon were willing to disturb the grumpy direwolf to get him to move.

On the surface, everything seemed fine. Jon arrived home, already peeling off his heaviest layers you gave him a soft smile when he caught your eyes. But greeting everyone else, did Jons eyes stray slightly behind you and spot exactly what he thought he saw. Robb knew he was caught, but you hadn’t noticed. His hand staying in place for now, the strands still through his fingertips as Robb raised an eyebrow.

A challenge towards Jon to say something. Robb was doing nothing inappropriate that you’d be uncomfortable with, but it was the intention behind it that Jon was not alright with. An intention they both knew you were not aware of. It had only been a number of days since the incident at the main Stark house and both were well aware that Robb more then ever had been watching Jon around you.

Jon also was very well aware, that something not comfortable was sitting in Robb knowing that you were going to be hundreds of miles south with Jon alone for days. In his paranoia, anything could happen.

Not entertaining this in front of you or Theon, Jon only left for his room to change properly. Leaving in the morning, Jon could only smile that you had nearly everything packed both for you and him, not bothering to waste a second knowing neither of you would want to pack so much so early. It took him longer then it needed to, coming back out there. Sitting at his desk finally, Jon’s eyes kept switching from his computer screen to screenshotting something down on his phone adamantly, only to suddenly close the tab to a half way finished report the second he heard the door open. Phone closing and sitting flat on the table as he made quick moves to type.

Jons eyes only glanced up enough to spot that it was Robb, and for a brief moment the thought that it was you about to catch him made Jon forget for a second that Robb was on his tails just as much only with purpose. Closing the door behind him, there was quiet in the room as Jon let his brother take his time.

He could see from his side view that he was looking around the room. Jon wasn’t fooled to why. Once Robb knew exactly what this room looked like, and now, something implored him to check again. And it was obvious. You slept in here with Jon every night, this was as much your room now as it was his and it was clear. Jon had made distinctive effort to make sure you felt as comfortable as he did, a blend of you and him as your own bedroom was beginning to look more and more like the spare room Jon once used for his office space.

A deep sigh left him, “What?”

Robb leaned against the side of his desk, forcing Jon to suddenly turn looking up with unamused eyes as his brother kept a calm. Yet with a tone they both knew sounded far too much like a lecturing tone their father would so willingly give. “You know I wish I didn’t even have to ask you this.” Jon only muttered out ask him what, and found an instant regret in the answer. “Does she have anything to worry about on this trip?”

Slowly Jon pushed up from his chair. Robb standing straight to face him as Jon met his gaze, narrowed and throughout unamused. “Does she, or do you mean do you have something you think you want to worry about?”

Both brothers stared each other down, more then one thought running through both of their heads at what could be at play here, which angle each were going with. But Robb made it simple, going right for what he considered to be the biggest issue. “Going to a wedding alone with her, after what Rickon saw on your phone-”

As much as he could afford to raise his voice without drawing attention, Jon accomplished best he could. “Why do you have so little faith in me?” The question clearly took Robb off guard more then his did Jon, pressing forward with something more hurt in his distrust seeping through. “You’ve known me our whole lives, and suddenly you think I’m as bad for her as Ramsay was? I get your mad I ever put her in that position, but as soon as you hung up I made my way home. To make things right.” Your name coming from his mouth, but with far less weight of vitriol then before. “It was her I hurt, it was her I needed to make things up for, to earn her trust back. I don’t have anything to prove to you.”

Trying to move passed him, Robb stopped him. Grabbing Jon firmly by the arm, not needing to even pull him back as Jon himself pivoted to face him once more. Though there was something apprehensive in Robbs eyes as he kept his even tone still, “I’m don’t want you to prove anything to me, I’m only watching to make sure you don’t hurt her again, even on accident.”

Eyes narrowing in doubt, Jons head tilted just a bit as if exaggerating that feeling. “Are you?” Robb letting him go, Jon only paced somewhat as he ran a hand over his mouth before turning back to face him. Gesturing out to the hall beyond the closed door. “I hated protecting her, because it always meant that there was someone to protect her from. If I could’ve chosen between winning her heart by always rushing in to rescue her, or never having her but knowing she’s safe? I’d rather she never date, then have her that way.”

Robb opened his mouth, only to be cut off before he could get a word out.

Why Jon even said it, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know why it slipped out, what he had been thinking days ago, but it came out regardless. “You’ve had relationships before me. You had a lot of good relationships, I haven’t.” That time your name came out more with a forced strain attempting to cover up something akin to a crack in an insecurity long pushed away. “The only girl I’ve ever been with outside of her? You have no idea how desperate I was to get out of that. I trapped myself with someone who made me hate myself, but the morning after father told us she was coming back, I called her to tell her I’d pick her up in White Harbour. By the time I got there that night, I had finally found the courage to break up with Ygritte just because I knew seeing her again would be better even as friends then anything I was for years.”

It was obvious Robb was taken back, something hesitant in his eyes that was not expecting something so open about a time they all knew Jon rarely spoke of. “What did she-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Not for that conversation it certainly didn’t, Jon thought. Saying your name again he finally wrapped around to what he had spent a long time stewing over many nights ago. “She’s the first real chance I have at being with someone I love, and I’m hers. And I won’t let that go, just because you can’t trust me with the girl I’ve been in love with my whole life.”

Much the way Robb hung up the phone that night before Jon could get another word in, too did Jon open his door and make his way out into the main hall before Robb could speak. Whatever state he was leaving Robb in, Jon couldn’t focus on that. His brother had three days without either of you to think about what it is Jon said, and if he cared enough to do anything different about it before Jon had the patience to tackle it again.

Jon was fine admitting it was complete bias. But he thought it so many times in the long drive south that knew were he in the car with anyone else for that long he’d have prayed to the old gods for peace and quiet long before now.

But Jon loved driving places with you. You could drive, but Jon honestly couldn’t recall the last time he ever saw or heard of you doing so. You grew up on Dragonstone, a small island that had little space for main roads in the first place, then you spent your years on and off in Kings Landing. A larger city, but so cramped that anything you could’ve needed was always within walking distance.

The North though, was far too large. It alone was half of the country in terms of land. You could stand in Winterfell and look in any direction, and for hundreds of hundreds of miles it still would only land you further in the North. Having four younger siblings, Jon and Robb both got very used to driving them around and so when you would stay North, Jon was happy to include you in that. Even better then you came back from Kings Landing for good and moved there.

Finding a place close to Winterfell meant anytime you needed to go anywhere a bit too far to walk, Jon was more then happy to drive you. He was used to having you in the passenger seat. You never felt the need to fill the air with talking, you and Jon could enjoy the silence of the road. Sometimes Jon would play music but always low so that only in complete quiet with the windows up could you really hear it.

If it was in the North, Jon knew where and how to get there like the back of his hand, but here you proved his best driving companion for another reason. The south alone he was unfamiliar with, especially when you had gotten into The Reach. Meaning he relied on you for a lot of his navigation, but you were good at it. Quick and to the point, especially when passing on the edge of the much more populated High Garden.

Especially when he would be North of the wall, he had some truly terrible directions before. Both from his brothers garrisoned with him, and from some of the free folk who simply forgot that Jon hadn’t always known their lands as well as he did now.

By the time he had gotten you both to the hotel, you had joked about how Sam and Gilly got to stay in the Tarly’s fine estate while you both were in a small space with just two rooms. Dropping your overnight bag on the bed along with his, Jon only jested that there was also a balcony. You turned halfway back with a flat expression along with one raised brow, “Two rooms, and a very small balcony.” In correction.

Turning back to look at the view, Jon had come up behind you. One hand tenderly grasped your hip to almost steady you as he inevitably startled you, the other reached around to slide open the glass door. Just enough the warm breeze blew inside as Jon gently guided you to step out. Pressing you between him and the railing, Jon dropped his head to your ear with a rasp. “Fits the two of us just fine.”

Just to tease you further, Jon let a hand slip down from your hip as if toying with the idea of slipping under your skirt before you laughed his name in an embarrassed manner, grasping and pulling it back up only to be greeted by a warm laugh in your ear back. Pressing his lips to the skin just below, Jon let that hand now much more innocently wrap around your stomach, your hands reaching up to push back the sleeves of his shirt to grasp at his arm, leaning back into his touch.

“How much time do we have?”

Jon didn’t even need to see your face to know you rolled your eyes, trying to hold back a smirk. “Not enough for what you’re thinking.” Jon only replied you both would if you shared the shower with him, but you had him there too without skipping a beat. “If we share a shower here, we are bound to arrive late.”

Another laugh left him, and another kiss was left to your hair at the side of your head before turning you back into the room. “You unpack while I go first.” He answered your question before you had a chance to even think of it yourself. “So when you’re done I can help you get ready.”

It was an offer Jon knew you wouldn’t be able to resist, and that was fine with both of you. He had long since mastered the ability to do your hair for you. At first glance it would look very simple, but Jon had happily spent a long while behind you in front of the bathroom mirror, doing every small little braid for you, which all eventually entangled into a larger braid like design that you had once said was common for women in the Stormlands.

It gave him the chance to run his fingers through your hair for an extended period of time. It was how he became so good at braiding hair in the first place. When younger, you would stay over at the main house to watch movies late with he, Robb, and Theon. The later two always ended up falling asleep first, and you both would normally end up the only ones awake, finally able to watch a movie you both wanted. Normally a horror one that your own parents would’ve never let you watch at that age.

You would always end up sitting close to Jon even though you claimed you weren’t scared until one night you had enough of whatever it was. Suddenly turning into Jons side to all but hide from the screen, Jon even only twelve at the time felt warm at how much you trusted him to comfort you. So you both ended up having nights where you’d watch horror movies alone, since no one else had any interest in them. In his room when he still lived on the second floor, Jon would gather things so you both could sit back comfortably on the floor against his bed, since that angle it was easier for you to just sit back against him.

Much easier time turning to hide now that you knew it was alright to just admit sometimes the movies were scarier then you could handle. But, eventually Jon found a habit. Your hair so long back then always in his reach, and he eventually found himself trying to braid it. Even if just an excuse to be closer, and he ended up learning how to do it very well to the point that, much to Catelyns dismay, when his little sisters were still very young sometimes they just came to him asking him to braid their hair instead of their mother.

Now he did it mostly with you, and the past few months was truly striking gold for something Jon secretly always enjoyed to be close to you for. Though, Jon could admit he was less focused on the task at hand when he had helped you into the dress.

It was curse, a terrible idea keeping it. Jon remembered how beautiful it looked on you, but this was unfair. He had to have you out all night with all those other people, when he could barley keep his eyes off of you. The way it fit parts of you perfectly, but draped along so many others and down against the floor like a proper gown, you looked as if you had been born to exist in another period of time. Jon could imagine you in dresses just like this every day and never tire of it.

He had it easy, both he and Sam being in the Nights Watch meant formal events were normally told to be used as representative moments. Or as Mormont put it, “If you’re going to get so drunk you throw up on your uniform, don’t wear it in the first place.”

Though, it also meant Jon had a far less annoying time having to dress for events. It was downplayed for times like this, but it meant he could wear something he was generally already comfortable with and not wonder what he should be doing to fit in with other men. It also worked, his all black was suited perfectly with the white dress on you at his side.

Coming up to the wedding, everyone was still scattered outside by the time Jon parked. Only you didn’t move with him right away to leave, letting go of the handle to the door, Jon turned to you murmuring your name. He could see your hands toying with what you could reach of the skirt of your dress with something nervous in your eyes, as if you wanted to ask him to drive you back to the hotel instead of getting out. Reaching a hand over, he ran it over your cheek, tilting you to look at him while he leaned over to reach you better. “Talk to me.”

He could tell you bit down on your tongue, glancing out to the crowd from where your eyes could look from the side before gazing down instead of at him. The nerves prominent in your voice. “I told you it’s too much.” Asking what, he already knew the answer when you said it. “The dress. It’s way too much.”

Speaking from nothing but complete sincerity, Jon let his thumb run over your cheek as he tried to lean down to catch your eyes failing to meet his own still. “You look beautiful.” But the way you responded hurt, his heart heart at the sincerity which you said that it was alright if he wanted to tell you the truth. “The truth? What truth?”

That had you finally meeting his gaze, something nervous as it was frustrated that he hadn’t figured it out yet. “That you don’t have to keep lying about these things.” Jon didn’t even have a response to that, just something uncomfortable in his stomach as you elaborated. “Everything that happened with Daenerys wasn’t your fault, I know that. She tricked you into all of it, or forced you, I don’t know the right word, but you didn’t do anything on purpose to hurt me. So you can stop lying about things to try and make up for it, you didn’t do anything I need to forgive you for.”

Oh Jon did not have time to handle this, in the car, outside of a wedding. Swallowing it all down, Jon tilted you to look back up at him. His eyes bright but almost a bit devastated at how little he could voice the heartbreak in him all over again. “Darling, I don’t know what you think I’ve been doing, but this isn’t it. I wanted to make it up to you, because no matter what happened when I was gone, I still was the one who left when you needed me. And I’m not lying. I promise. You look beautiful, and I want everyone to see how beautiful my girl looks.”

You both knew there wasn’t much time for this, and Jon could see the insecurity bleed into guilt in your eyes for saying anything in the first place. But you nodded, suddenly pulling from his touch to collect yourself and nearly rush out of the car as if now that you brought it up, all you wished to do was avoid the conversation. Jon could only follow suit, trying to shake of the sudden weight in his own heart, knowing this was a bad time to try and understand what you just revealed to him, in front of all these people.

A hand reaching your lower back, Jon guided you through to the crowd where he had easily spotted Sam and Gilly. The former calling out to Jon, who knew the smile on his face was a little more forced then usual only hoping Sam didn’t notice. Gilly commenting right away that she thought you looked wonderful, Jon’s eyes flickered to you, the smile looking forced but not quite obvious that Gilly would’ve noticed as you replied. “Thank you, but really you look stunning.”

Nodding to Sam she had a gleeful smile, “His sister Talla helped me pick it out, otherwise I’d have no idea what to wear to something as fancy as this.”

As you found a bit of ease talking to Gilly, who was happy taking the reigns of a conversation, Jon turned to Sam hoping his own sudden unease was not noticeable, though knowing Sam, he’d pick up on it eventually. “Have you seen him yet?”

Both men knowing who Jon was referring too right away. “Earlier. He’s spent most of his time with Dickon, so, if I can get through the reception then without having to talk to him then this will be easier then I hoped it would.”

Sams relationship with his father wasn’t what Jon would call something to be envious of. The man for all he heard, sounded like a nightmare to grow up with should you be like Sam, and not live up to whatever high expectations he had. Sam had once joked that maybe he’d like Jon at least, only for them both to come to the somewhat amusing realization that considering Jon was not really highborn, then there went any chance of that.

In fact he thought, out of everyone in this little group only you would fit that bill. Jons eyes lingering on you, but with that worry he knew Sam was already noticing. Not hiding it as well as he wished he was, but it all just ambushed him so quickly. Hand somewhat running ever so slightly up and down your lower back, neither of you sure if to comfort you or him at that point.

By the time Jon wondered if you had finally come down a little, things seemed to ease up for him as well. As if your nerves heightened his own, and when they simmered so could he. Gilly looked over to the sept, as she asked “So how does it work down here? Getting married?”

Glancing first between Jon and Sam, Jon could only give a slight change to his face indicating that he didn’t know either. Mentioning at her questioning face, “I grew up in the North as well.” Sam asking didn’t they have a sept near Winterfell. “They do, but I’ve never been in it for that. My brothers and sisters were the ones that worshipped the old gods and the new, since their mother follows the Seven.”

A small look was shared between yourself and Sam, gaining Jons bemused attention. “You are in for a ceremony then.” His eyes narrowed at you, but you only held a smirk holding back what you were truly thinking. Not bothering to elaborate for him, Jon could only let his smirk out more openly. For once finding himself not caring about such closeness, Jon somewhat turned you by your upper arms, before sliding down to your waist to move you towards entering the sept finally. The smirk growing to a grin as you let out a gentle laughing protest of his name as his push.

Jon pretended not to notice Sam’s watchful eyes, not used to seeing Jon so open about being with you. In fact he knew it was the first time Sam had seen Jon spend time with you since you begun to date, this was almost brand new compared to Jons previous silent affections hiding away in his heart.

The sept in Horn Hill was much like what you said most average ones were like. Catching his curious glance, you clarified that in Kings Landing the Sept of Baelor was massive and immaculate. The statues of the Seven surrounding the main floor and reaching high to a ceiling that was taller then you knew how to describe.

Here the statues were more what he expected. Surrounding a half moon wall where the main area was modestly decorated. Banners around of the ancient sigil of the Tarly’s, a red painted huntsman yielding a bow and arrow against an array of green like grass. The septon stood at the main top with what Jon assumed was Sams father and brother. Dickon looked only a little like Sam, Jon supposed. But it felt like he was looking up to Randyll Tarly and saw nothing between the two of similarity.

In truth, the other sigil around was some he was not familiar with. More of the older houses of the Reach Jon wasn’t terribly familiar with, let alone the south in general. Though, he was here for Sam, so it didn’t truly matter. Looking down to you, he could see the hand near him was clutching the skirt of your dress a bit tightly, the nerves returning suddenly. Without much thought, Jon slipped the hand from at your back to grasping at the hand. Pulling it free enough from the fabric not to draw attention, as he slowly moved to encourage you to just let him hold your hand. Tugging you the slightest bit closer under the guise that it was more crowded in the sept then out there.

The ceremony was something. Keeping you close, Jon couldn’t help but let his mind wander nearly the entire time. There was a lot of talking. Mostly by the septon, but he felt as if he talked endlessly and Jon couldn’t help but feel it was all for the spectacle of ceremony. He hadn’t seen many, but the Northern weddings were much more simple, more quiet and certainly didn’t require someone else to conduct it for them.

Jon could just stand at the Weirwood in his own home, with his family and do it himself. Little was even spoken between the man and his bride if anything at all. Some swore their sacred vows out loud before kneeling before the heart tree to pray, some said nothing knowing that their prayers and promises here were enough and needn’t be spoken for the sake of everyone else.

It didn’t escape Jon that in this imagine created in his head, he could see you. Not even dissimilar to what you looked like now. A bit warmer of a dress of course. Here the men draped their bride in a cloak of their family sigils, but in the North, it was not as formal of a design. Coming from ancient times when in place of the outer clothes they wore now, cloaks made with a fur around the shoulders were what kept people warm. The man would wear it standing there, and the bride would come out to be given his fur to keep warm.

Jon knew that his family had well kept furs from years beyond counting for that very purpose, not that he had a chance to use it as such. His father had married Catelyn in her home of Riverrun, far from his own home. It had been during a time of political strife for the country. His father and your own father and uncle were all heavily involved in the situation in those days but no one seemed to like talking about it. But Jon couldn’t imagine having a marriage in a place like this.

He felt out of place, uncomfortable almost. He wanted you out in fresh air in his home, in the place he fell in love with you. He’d sneak you away before the reception was even over, a smaller guest house seldom used would be the perfect place. Keep you to himself for a while, and slowly take you apart before keeping you in his bed as long as you could handle. Which Jon knew was dangerous to think in public, but he certainly was learning how much you could handle. How much he was teaching you to handle.

Inhaling deeply, Jon willed himself to keep his mind calm. Keep that thought from coming so close to the forefront when he had a night to get through before he got you alone. He could think about it then, not now, not in front of other people.

Jon begun to think you perhaps were a bit less invested then you pretended to be. Eyes forward, but you slowly begun to fidget your hand in his, before Jon picked up right away what you needed. Gently toying with your fingers, tracing over what he could reach. Glancing down to you, he caught your eyes a bit brighter then before, no doubt realizing your mind treading into a bit of boredom was noticed.

He didn’t know most of these people, so Jon let himself not care. Pulling you closer into his side, you were able to turn a bit to rest your head more by his neck, the brush of his curls dancing along your own skin in return. The rest of the ceremony felt odd, even once it picked up. Standing beside each other, holding hands lightly did the septon tie a cloth around them before undoing it just as fast and again all he could think was how preformative it was.

Only for it to be topped, by a loud deceleration by Dickon, “With this kiss, I confess my love.”

Jon couldn’t imagine a world in which his father would’ve ever agreed to something that exaggerated for the sake of it. Turning to you, your eyes were still brighter then before like you could shake things off as you held a tone towards him of knowing. “So, was it as exhilarating as you thought it would be?”

Looking down with narrow eyes, Jon only muttered as he pulled you close again into his side. “You southerners talk too much.” Over the crowd it mostly blended in, but so close to his ear Jon could only smile as he heard you laugh freely.

Leaning into him more, you let a hand reach over to grasp at the belt across his person, “The rest is easy. Food, drink..dancing.” Jon only jesting that he couldn’t wait to see what you southerners considered to be dancing.

By the time he did, Jon whispered it into your ear directly. “If my father danced like this at his wedding, would your uncle have a video of it?” Whispering that you could ask, a mischievous look in your eye knowing how dangerous that would be in the wrong hands, and how tempting it would be to accidentally gift that footage to one of his younger siblings. “Is every dance like this?”

Shaking your head, you held a laugh still in your voice. “No, eventually they run out of tradition far before they run out of wine, and then people can enjoy themselves like normal.”

It came out before Jon could stop it. Leaning more to your ear, a whispered rasp making you shiver even without his touch. “I don’t think the way I want to enjoy you is what they have in mind.” Looking up with wide eyes and a flustered look Jon only smiled. Pulling your head close to leave a kiss to your hair mumbling to fluster you even further. “Bedding Ceremonies probably aren’t as exciting as what we already do.”

Hissing his name, Jon shifted to let one hand drape along the back of your chair, his hand on the other side freely running along your arm as his other finished what was left of his wine. You instead nearly hid in yours as you muttered for him only, “Anyone could be listening.”

That time he didn’t even hide his voice, just leaning down to you a bit knowing if someone heard, then they heard. “If there’s one place it’s appropriate to talk about taking the woman you love to bed.” The roll in your eyes was not at all meaningful, mostly a diversion of the feeling in your chest no doubt before people noticed Jon was making you feel worked up. But Jon let his hand run smooth along your arm, letting his head turn to rest more against your hair before his lips pressed a kiss there as you both watched the final of traditional dances begin.

Your voice was gentle when you spoke again. “Gilly’s doing rather well.” Both looking to where on the dance floor with other family and important guests were, Sam and Gilly both had joined the dances, Jon commenting he was surprised she knows how to when you shrugged a shoulder. “She had been practising nearly every night to make sure she didn’t embarrass herself.”

He tried to hold it in, he really did. But he lasted about ten seconds before it slipped out. “Is that why you’re not out there?” Your face fell as you glared up at him, Jon barley holding back a grin. “I understand, you don’t want to embarrass yourself. It’s been years why would you remember any of it?”

You stuck to a glare in silence for as long as it took to turn back with a huff and a shake of your head. “I’d have gotten up and danced with someone to prove you wrong, if you weren’t right.” That time Jon laughed, only he pulled you along with him as he did so. Your face twisting into something much more soft then before. “Listen, about earlier-”

Shaking his head, Jon pulled his arm from across your chair to cup the side of your face as he turned to you. “It’s alright, darling. I’m not mad.” Letting his thumb run across your cheek, his face twisted somewhat. “When did you start thinking that way? That I was only doing all this as an act?” Trying to stutter that you didn’t say that, Jon caught you in the lie. “Thats what you meant.”

Letting his hand slip more down to run along your neck, the sensation gave a shiver through you as if awakening you enough again to find your voice. “Margaery said something about it. That Dany was trying to manipulate you to get back at me, that everything I saw or heard she wanted me to hear.. not because it was happening organically.” Jon would’ve interjected, but he could see you had one more point being held onto. “That and.. Arya had said that if you couldn’t get her to take responsibility, then you would.”

Inhaling through his nose, Jon took a moment as his eyes closed to consider that he knew Arya meant well, but likely didn’t know how to phrase things that wouldn’t give you the wrong ideas. Looking back, Jon let his hand toy with the edges of your dress mindlessly. “I didn’t tell you any of that, because I knew it wouldn’t make you feel better. All I cared about was proving I never wanted to hurt you, and I’d never do it again.”

Glancing to the side as if checking no one was listening, you nodded gently. “You didn’t need to prove anything, I wasn’t upset because I didn’t trust you.”

Leaning a bit closer, he let the hand toying with the edge of your dress drift back more to your jaw as his thumb ran along your cheek. “And if I did anything, I’d want you to be upset about it. I’d want you to not trust me for betraying you like that. You’re allowed to blame me for things, sometimes.”

Looking back around once more, you shook your head as if trying to dismiss the conversation. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this here.” Jons brows narrowed just the slightest picking up on your avoidance, but he let it go just for now.

The music finally having changed to something a little more normal, but on the slow side, Jon stood with a hand outstretched to you. That time you were the one who looked to him in a question, but he only nodded his head to the side where the dancing was to implore you. “When was the last time I got to dance with you for anything?”

A shy smile came over you as you accepted his offer. “Were we even teenagers?”

With a surprising amount of grace, Jon took your hand and all but spun you onto the dance floor before grasping both you by your other hand and pulling you into him. The timing worked well, the song only quiet and slow as Jon let one hand leave yours to run down your waist closer to your hip to keep you steady but close. The now free hand of yours ran to sit flat high on his chest, movements slow.

Jon could tell you were a bit flustered. Not used to something quite as openly romantic as this, but the thought only made him smile, catching your attention. “The Winter Harvest when you were twelve. That was the last time I danced with you.” Asking nothing but with curiosity why you both stopped then, Jons answer came with his hand at your hip pulling you just he bit closer as he leaned more down to you. “I was fourteen, my feelings for you were starting to get serious, and every other boy around me was only dancing with girls they were dating. I didn’t want you to think the wrong thing.”

A small smile came over you, nearly forcing one onto Jons in response. “Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Closing enough of the gap that you could nudge your nose with his. “Wouldn’t want you to think what? That I love you?” Not giving you the chance to look away, Jon captured your lips with his. Nothing urgent, but a chaste kiss with just enough of a passion put into it that your eyes were still fluttering open by the time Jon pulled back to look at you. Waiting until you met his grey ones, he let them flicker down not just to your lips again but what he could see before returning. “I don’t want you to worry about what happened. We’re moving passed it, I want to just look forward to whatever comes for us next. I’ll always be sorry for leaving you like that, but looking back on it now isn’t making you feel better.”

Hardly noticing anyone around you, your voice came out gentle with a small nod. “I’m not sure Robb thinks the same.” His brows narrowed but allowed you to elaborate. “You told me a while ago not to worry about it, but I know something’s wrong. He’s angry, I thought it was at me but sometimes he seems fine, other times I don’t know. But I do know sometimes he’s angry with you.”

If he gave anything away, Jon had done a good job of hiding it. Face twisting just a little as if only in response to new information, he repeated exactly what he had said before albeit with a new weight hiding behind the realization. “He just cares about you.”

“Why does caring about what happened mean he’s still angry with you?”

Shifting the hand on your hip, Jon cupped the back of your head. Pulling your front more into his chest as he swiftly adjusted positions to still look like you both fit in. Rasping low in your ear, Jon knew at least this way you couldn’t see his troubled expression. “He cares about you, I hurt you and he doesn’t want to see that happen again. He’s just holding me accountable-” Being cut off you looked up enough to mutter that you’d talk to him but Jon just soothed you right back into his front. “Let me handle Robb, right now, I want you to enjoy yourself.”

A small huff left you which mimicked a laugh, as your head turned up without pulling away, trying to nuzzle a bit more into his front.”I always enjoy myself when I’m with you.” Heart filling in his chest, Jon sighed deeply as he let his lips press a kiss to the side of your head. His eyes catching only for a moment, Sam. A look in his eye trying to convey what almost appeared to be pride, only for him to shake his head nearly indeterminable to Sam, before drifting his gaze away to you once more.

In truth Jon was starting to wonder if bringing you here was a scheme by Sam, just as an opportunity to watch Jon in a relationship he’s actually happy in. Sam more then once when this first started, told him he couldn’t be happier for him, and since he hadn’t actually seen you and Jon, only before when you were still just friends. Jons obvious affection for you that so blatantly breached the appropriate bounds of friendship, and the painful number of times he had to hold that back from someone else seeing it.

But now, nothing was keeping him back and considering how Sam both invited him to this but also seemed to be going out of his way to keep himself and Gilly from interrupting you both, he started to suspect that this was all just a long con to watch Jon with the girl he’s pined over all his life.

The music clearing up a bit, Jon wasn’t even sure how long you both had been there. Having you warm in his arms was more then he could’ve ever asked for, the way you nuzzled into his front as if hiding from the rest of the wedding to live in the small bubble only consisting of you both.

Turning to look as chatter begun to buzz about, Jon didn’t move you from his hold even as Sam and Gilly both approached. You tried to stand up properly, but Jon ran his hand down your hair a bit firmer as if to keep you right where you were, your hands slinking up more towards his shoulders to hold against him better as he did so.

If there was one thing from the event Jon knew Gilly would remember, it was what came next. Someone, what Jon could only assume was a friend or cousin of Dickon begun riling up everyone and Jon instantly knew what was coming next. Glancing at Sam with a knowing, you watched as well but with a bit more of a modest interest whereas Gilly begun looking rather confused, and soon almost a mixture of horrified and baffled.

Many of the women ferrying Dickon off, clothes slowly coming with it as laughter was shared, and even more of a sight, did many of the men pick up the poor bride, doing the exact same but with the amusement, laughter and music far more lively as they were ferried off, before Gilly muttered, “What was that?”

You were the one to answer, a more knowing tone as if a dread of yours in the future, as if Jon would ever allow that. “The bedding ceremony. Men take the bride and women bring the groom as they, you know,”

“Bed each other?”

An amused look in your eyes, you nodded but it did nothing to help alleviate the feeling. Jon taking over, failing to keep a grin off his face at the whole ordeal. “It’s tradition. Centuries ago, the only way to know if the bride and groom consummated their marriage was-”

Gilly’s voice raised almost comically horrified. “To watch?”

Sam tried to assure her, but it was no less helpful when he was as amused as Jon was. “I’m sure to you, it seems rather strange but every bride goes through it.” Again her voice emphasized the word every, and Jon couldn’t stop the grin at how unhelpful any of this was to make it make sense to someone like her. “It’s less important now, mostly it was also to ensure that the bride was a virgin on her wedding night, but since that’s not really important anymore,” Jons face twisted downward into a warning as Sam all but nodded at Jon and yourself to make a silent point. “It’s mostly just for fun.”

Each word with it’s own pause after it to make her point, “That does not sound fun.”

You could only mutter flatly leaning still into Jons front that you agreed. He didn’t mean to say it, let alone in front of Sam and Gilly as well, but it came out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Don’t worry, I’d prefer not to break a mans jaw when it’s our turn.”

You took it as flustered but playful as you normally did, not really responding verbally but a wide eyed smile smothered onto your face as you hissed his name, but Jon couldn’t help but grin right back as he let his hand at your hip pinch you just the slightest. Pushing you into him with a disapproving glare that held as much meaning as none towards him.

He ignored the way Sam and Gilly were looking at you both, and too he ignored the way that truly, Jon wasn’t actually joking. Being at a wedding with you, now of all times felt dangerous. Especially considering the unspoken intent behind the tradition they just watched. It wasn’t just consummating a marriage that was the concern, it too was to ensure, at least many centuries ago, that any child born to the woman was legitimate to the new husband.

That was the absolute last thing Jon needed to focus on at that moment, more thoughts of you and anything close to you being pregnant. He swore internally, he was going to throttle Tormund the next time he saw him for putting this in his head.

It was far later into the night then Jon intended to keep you out, but once the four of you had sat down to share a drink, it ended up being a few more. Jon could handle it fine, Sam wasn’t looking great, and certainly Gilly wasn’t either. How much she ever drank he’d be shocked by the answer if it was more then barley any.

You though, Jon knew better. You seemed fine, keeping up with how cognizant Jon was of everything but all it took was a look deeper into your eyes and he could see the slight glaze of a buzz. His hand gripped the mug in his hand so tight that were it made of glass, it would have smashed to bits. He barley had anything influencing him, but just on the verge of enough that he remembered the last time you both drank together.

And what happened in the car on the drive home. His grey eyes grew darker as he suddenly struggled to keep his eyes off of you. His thoughts consumed with what he wanted to do, and just like last time, having to fight passed a dress was so much easier then pants. He could sink inside you without a second thought.

It was growing, the burning impatience in him. The last time too he took you in his car, Jon knew what came the morning after, or what should’ve. He was going to wake you up with his mouth that morning, taste you until you woke up coming for him before fucking you into the bed. But he got called in before he could even taste you once, and then everything else spiralled after that.

Not this time, tomorrow was free of any need and Jon was not going to waste any time when he woke up. Part of him wondered if it would be easier to have you sleep bare for him, or if truly, you wearing clothes was going to even be an issue in the first place. Judging by how hot his blood ran, he doubted you’d be wearing anything within a few seconds of locking the door to your hotel.

At the rate Jon was feeling, he was truly beginning to doubt whether or not he would survive the drive back to the hotel. There weren’t many secluded roads between here and there as far as he knew, but his blood boiled thinking about sinking you down on his length in his front seat while you were dressed like this.

More then once as the night drew into a close did Sam ask if Jon was alright to drive, and more then once Jon assured him he was. It had been enough time since his last drink that most of the alcohol had made it’s swift path out of his system, and as Jon gestured to Gilly who was leaning so much against Sam she was practically asleep, Jon jested “Is she going to be alright?”

Looking over in his own amusement of her, Sam smiled. “We’re only going a short ride to the house, I’m sure she can survive by then.” Nodding over to where you were politely saying goodbye to Sams sister and mother, he added “She doesn’t even look drunk?”

Turning somewhat to catch your gaze, Jon only smiled with his own bemused glint in his eye, though what has hidden behind it still raged within his blood. Turning back, Jon swallowed that all down though, for as long as he could try. “She’s good at hiding it. Take care of of Gilly.” A half hug the two could share with the girl in question trying to drunkenly hug Jon back as well before Jon left them to their devices and made his way over to you.

Finally standing alone, Jon gently grasped your hips, leaning down so his curls brushed against your neck as he murmured in your ear. “Let me take you back to the hotel.” Somewhat trying to turn to look at him, Jon instead prevented you by leaning down further to press a kiss to the skin just under your ear. “I’m tired of sharing you.” Only muttering that you’ve barley left his side all night, Jon only rasped with a bit more of a grin. “Barley is still too much.”

You were much more composed then some of the others around as he led to the car. Mostly steady save for Jon having to guide you a bit more down the steps, he was trying to assess just how drunk you were, but even in your eyes you still could look at him clear as day. Driving out was easy, it was not a long way back to the hotel but each time Jon glanced at you did something further in his blood take over.

A pressing need to drag you onto his lap, but there was no real place to stop anywhere along the way. Even worse, you were quiet and none the wiser to the burning inside him. Looking out the window with a gentle ease from a night you didn’t expect to enjoy, but the dress on you still so tempting. It didn’t even show off anything really, not in that sense. Long sleeves, draping along the floor like a gown, it wasn’t tight and didn’t overly show off your plush curves, but somehow it made it more tempting for him.

As if underneath such a beautiful and innocent dress, was something only Jon was privy to. It was a body that was more beautiful then he could rationalize made any sense, you were as if designed just to tempt him and that only made his cock grow hard under his clothes. Hands tighter on the steering wheel, he risked another glance at a red light. Your eyes met his, and your voice soft and gentle only made the feeling grow more and more. “Thank you.” Muttering for what, your eyes were almost more tempting then anything else, with nothing but a feeling Jon knew was love deep in their depths. “For bringing me. I don’t normally like weddings, but being with you was more fun then I thought.”

Jons smile despite everything underneath it, was as soft as he looked back to the road as the light turned green. “Good, because you’re the only person from now on I’m bringing to any wedding.” Did that have a second intention behind it? Perhaps, but Jon knew you were too innocent to pick up on it, which only made it worse. Only made the need for you worse, how he could sit there and think of absolutely anything about you, and you’d never know.

It was a bit deplorable, that train of thought. How deeply Jon could fall into the depravity of something obscenely perverse and you’d be none the wiser that he was even capable of thinking such things. “You planning on going to a lot of weddings, Snow?”

Jon however, only smirked. “Just enough to see you dressed up like this more often.”

That time you didn’t even try to meet his flickering gaze. Something modest yet shy in his compliments and something much more obvious brewing. There was no doubt that you were beginning to put the dots together, at least some of them. How Jon had been the one to suggest the dress, encourage you to put it on, how much he wanted to buy it for you but held himself back.

How long the feelings between you had been so painfully close to boiling over, and Jon knew you still didn’t know the half of it.

Managing to make it to the hotel, Jon felt his insides almost burning too hot as he led you with a hand on your lower back into the building. The elevator doors closing before you both, Jons eyes tore down what he could see of your frame from beside you. How you were likely planning to get into the room, get out of your dress and have a shower to refresh yourself, not knowing what he had in mind.

The guilt was close in his heart as Jons eyes flickered up to where he knew the security cameras naturally were placed and his hand at his side tensed. Telling himself to just not do anything, eyes were clearly on you and he didn’t need to get you both into trouble before you even had one night here yet. How you were so utterly tempting, his hand on your lower back curling just enough to slightly catch the skirt of your dress between a few fingers as if tempted to yank it up and shove you against the wall here and now.

It was almost a painful wait. Each passing second until the doors opened, and then still Jon had to make it every step towards the door. You had even said something but his mind didn’t catch it, too distracted the moment your voice spoke out as to how he wanted that sound to be higher pitched, more needing, and begging his name like he knew he could make you.

Jaw clenched, his face twisted into something that to an outsider looked almost angry or frustrated but the moment you asked him gently to just prompt his attention to you, “Jon?” He only shook his head, nudging you forward the few remaining steps towards the door. First the key card, then moving you inside, it was as if Jon was ticking things off the list before he could get to what he wanted.

By the time he had finally locked the door, you already strayed too far from him. Sitting at the edge of the bed, you were carefully taking your shoes off. Swallowing, Jon roughly muttered your name. Head peeking up as you sat your shoes down carefully, Jon outstretched a hand taking a few steps inside the room further.

Pushing up to your feet, you gently grasped his and the tenderness which you did so and looked at him assumed Jon had better intentions then he truly did. Suddenly before you could say anything, did Jon tighten his grip on your hand as he first yanked you to him. Only a gasp had the time to leave you before Jon grabbed both your hips, turned you on the spot. More roughly then he intended too, Jons impatience took over as he suddenly pushed you against the wall. Crowding over you, Jon didn’t give you a chance to even gasp before he leaned down and roughly pressed his lips to yours.

Hands tight on your hips, he nearly pushed you into the wall further and further as if worried you’d tried to run from him, only to lose himself in a groan as you reached your hands up. Winding around the back of his neck before sinking into the thick curls loose around him. Whatever softness he should’ve begun with didn’t exist.

Deepening the kiss almost right away, Jon had your head at an angle where he was hovered over you enough that you had nowhere to go if not his lips. Again and again Jon kissed you, some trying to be loving, others letting his teeth bite and nibble down on your bottom lip with a growl forming in his chest. Dragging one hand up to grasp at your jaw, Jon barley could turn your head up before he let it slide behind your neck. Grasping at the hair he could find, Jon kept you pressed to his kiss as his own blood burned at the sudden pulling of your fingers at his curls.

Pushing you further into the wall, Jon had no relief. There were too many layers, but then he would have to part himself from your kiss, and he simply wasn’t ready. Each breath you gave, was taken without any mercy. You could barley get tiny sounds out of you, Jon stole all of them. Hand almost massaging through the soft strands of your hair, his lips were soft against yours but guided every movement.

A rougher bite to your bottom lip contrasted the softness, a gasp barley coming from you in such a perfect sounding pitch in his ear. Using that opportunity, Jon gently slid his tongue into your mouth. Brushing up against yours to such an addicting taste. Whatever you had during the dinner was gone, and just the remaining hint of a sweet wine graced his senses along with something so unique to you that he could only describe as a drug.

Your hands inadvertently tugged again, only to cause Jon to try and fail to ground into your hips. But his mind raged, he’d have to part, and he didn’t know if he could yet. Over and over with a gentleness did Jon taste inside of your mouth, his tongue heavy against yours making you powerless against him, your nails digging further into his locks as his grip on your hip begun already to leave hints of bruises in the shape of his hand.

Barley convincing himself to pull back, the saliva between you snapped as he opened his eyes to yours still sealed shut. Your lips more plush as they no doubt tingled like his from the force, and parted as if trying to catch your breath and yet bracing yourself for not knowing when Jon would take that away once more. It was right away, but much shorter. Urgent and pulled back with another hissing bite before he spared no second dragging his teeth down to your neck.

The hand on the back of your head, tilted you to the side as it then ran down your frame to join at your other hip. Jon hardly allowed himself time to press his lips or brush his tongue along the sensitive skin before he sunk his teeth down into it like a wolf subduing it’s prey. And it worked.

Gasping his name, you held more tightly against him as he bit until it left marks and the sucked the skin to leave a bruise that he barley offered you condolence with a kiss after for the roughness. Every single inch he did it to down to your shoulder, pressing a single kiss to what he could access before returning to your lips.

That time he was more soft and less demanding, but his hands had ulterior motives. Bunching up the skirt of your dress in his hands, Jon only pulled back from you enough to yank the dress up off your body. He didn’t care one bit what happened to it now, tossing it to the side before he ran his eyes down the length of your body.

Instead of the roughness the same though, Jon knelt down. His hands smoothing out against your hips before grasping each side of your underwear. His eyes seeking yours, bright and wide as if waiting for you to nod, as if you’d give any other answer by now. Slowly, Jon pulled them down your legs, patiently lifting one foot of the ground, then back down to the other. One hand ran up, palm smooth against your bare leg as the other didn’t even care if you saw.

Shoving the already damp fabric into his back pocket.

Lips finding your upper thighs, Jon gently prompted you to widen your stance, as a shaky breath from you hit his ears. Like a song in the air, the nerves in you as he did this when truly you should’ve been used to it by now. Closer and closer to the warmth between your legs he got before the thought hit him, looking up to you with a bright gaze, his voice rasped low in contrast. “Had anyone ever done this to you before?”

Your brows raised in surprise at the question, your voice a bit stammering as you tried to come off as more composed then your breathless tone spoke of. “I uhm, I mean you’ve done it many times now..”

Interrupting you, Jon smoothed his palms up and down your hips and thighs to his ease reach, his brows narrowed. Tone more curious and soft trying to convince you it was an innocent question. “I mean before me. You told me that you thought men didn’t like to, but did anyone ever even offer? Did you ever ask?”

Jons head fell forward, pressing against your mound as his eyes closed at how shyly you shook your head no. You were so much more innocent in mind compared to him. The moment Jon first learned about this, he had envisioned you. He was a teenage boy, you had been staying in his house even and still he couldn’t help himself. The older he got the worse the want got. He’d desperately look for videos and find none that were close. The women never looked enough like you to pretend, and if they did, the men never looked like him and it would shatter the illusion of being able to picture it as you both against his own bed.

His voice was a rough rasp as it came out, “So you assumed I was only offering to be nice, when you’d never even knew what it felt like?” Why the next question came out he wasn’t sure, but something deep within him needed to know. “Did you ever want me to?” Your eyes grew wide, and your lips parted in something stunned but you said nothing. He knew he had you. “Darling, before we were together, did you ever imagine me tasting you just like this?” The fact that you nodded was nothing short of a miracle, but it only pulled a growl as Jons forehead rested against you again.

Muttering in a rougher tone full of an emotion he would describe as angry. “Everything they made you do for them, to them, and they never even bothered teaching you what it felt like?” You tried to mutter his name, but Jon changed his mind. Suddenly rising up to his full height, his figure fully dressed felt so much broader and taller against you now completely bare. Leaning down to catch your eyes directly onto his, his curls creating a curtain around you both so there was little to distract you from him as he asked it. “Do you remember when I said I would get off thinking about you?”

Your hands held gentle at his waist, your eyes nervous but with a trusting that made his heart feel so heavy at being directed towards him as he continued.

“I need to know. What were you thinking about?” One hand changed to run smoothly down your hair by the side of your head, slightly stopping to tilt your gaze up to his. “When you called my name out in the apartment, what were you thinking about that made you feel that way?”

If Jon could place a bet on how hard your heart was beating at that moment, he was sure he’d win all the gold he could imagine on being right. Your hands twitched against his sides, but you didn’t move. Regardless, Jon could see by the heavier rise and fall of your chest that too were you breathing harder as you said it, an innocent little lie for your own embarrassments sake. “It just slipped out.” Tilting his head somewhat to indicate he didn’t believe you, you looked away as you found a more truthful little lie instead. “I was just trying to tune him out, and thinking about you in general was more comforting.”

That would’ve been heartbreakingly sweet if Jon believed that was the full truth. “Darling.”

Your eyes only closed for a moment, before sighing deeply. Looking back up at him, your fingers twitched and fidgeted more and more out of the pure nerves at telling him the truth, no matter how little he’d ever judge you for it. “I heard...I thought I heard something..from your room.” Head leaning down to try and catch your eye, you bit your lip before forcing it out. “Something like a groan..and it..it reminded me of what I thought you’d sound like when you..”

Freezing for a moment before the ice shattered and burned fire though him Jon felt his cock throb behind all his layers as he put it together. He had gotten off to the sound of your voice, and must have not been as quiet at one point as he thought. Groaning loud enough you heard through the walls. His voice distant as the grey in his eyes dimmer darker and darker. “And that made you cum?” Your eyes closed with something nervous inside you as you nodded your head, only for Jon to tilt your head back up to him indicating you needed to look at him properly. “My hand was around my cock listening to the voice notes you sent me, and my groan made you cum that easily?” You only nodded shyly, and once, but it had an immediate reaction.

Grasping you by the back of your head again, Jon pulled you to meet his lips. Deep and rough right away, refusing to let you part as he pulled you from the wall and turned you into the room. Only breaking apart as Jon all put pushed you to sit on the edge of the bed.

Instead of going to you, Jon stepped back. Your palms braced at your sides digging into the sheets as you watched, pressing your thighs together as if he didn’t desperately want to see how wet you were between them. But in a silence with black eyes did Jon start pulling everything off of him. Hardly looking away if he didn’t have too, your chest rising and falling quickly at the slowly uncovered skin of his body.

He barley even considered how it looked from the height you sat at. Pulling his final bottom layers off, only to expose how hard his cock had been. Heavy and thick your eyes were drawn right too it as Jon forced the groan in his chest down. “Don’t look at me like that.” Your eyes shooting up to his dark and needing but disapproving ones in question. “I want to taste you, don’t look at me like you want the opposite.”

Breathless but genuine, you made it so much worse. “I do though.”

Jaw clenched, Jons eyes closed as long as it took to force those thoughts back down, no matter how much you could see how worked up it made him. “Don’t.” Suddenly kneeling down before you, Jon pushed your knees apart. The brief sight of your hands digging into the sheets with something nervous, but his eyes pierced through yours with a roughness to match.

Ever so forward he shuffled, enough that one hand could leave your knees, skipping up to your side, only to gently cup your breast, his thumb right away brushing against the small bud as a gasp left you, muscles tensing a bit as he leaned up more to you, from his now lower position. Firmer he grasped and more pressure he ran this thumb over your nipple, but so much softer did you become in the touch, muscles tensing again before relaxing. Your eyes fluttering closed right as Jon ran his nose down the length of yours, nudging slightly as he rasped, his other hand pushing open your other leg by the inner thigh more. “Jon-”

Interrupting, Jon couldn’t take much more of this and cut you off before you could suggest anything else. “Lay back for me, right here.” Waiting until you nodded, Jon helped you lay back so your legs say over the edge and your hips were just a the right position to move you has he would wish. Only leaning up over the bed slightly, Jon cupped your cheek before bringing you to his lips. The kiss much more gentle but lingering, and even so he went back twice more when he himself was the one attempting to part ways.

Never picking up the pace, his lips sought a path down your neck. Reaching the valley of your breasts, Jon kissed down it as suddenly both hands roughly grasped at you, your back arching with a gasp released from your lips, but he didn’t linger. Not then. Staying with his hands groping you over and over as he felt your muscles tense already before the stretch became to inconvenient for him, back now kneeling on the ground before you.

Both hands pulled you more over the edge by your hips, his eyes catching your hands trying to grasp at the sheets and biting down against your lip. Down your stomach, Jon didn’t once let his lips leave your skin, a trail of saliva following his kiss no doubt cool in the open air, but he did not skip to where his feast awaited yet.

Instead, letting them trail down your hips and your thighs, pulling your leg wider to allow him to kiss his way half until gently pulling your leg up, resting it over his shoulder before swapping sides to do the same. Both thighs over his broad shoulders, he could feel the edges of your foot’s heel tracing along his back and looking up your hands dug deeper into the sheets.

Finally though, allowing his eyes to close, Jon had one need in mind and no longer the patience to draw it out. Hands tight on your hips to keep you pressed into the bed, Jon closed the gap keeping him from you.

He always tried to start slowly, gentle. His tongue making tiny, gentle swiping licks along your clit had you gasp right away, back arching if not for his hands pressing you down without much ability to move without his permission. Slowly he moved his tongue along the sensitive bundle, little patterns he knew got to you and with how quickly he felt your thighs around him tense, he knew you were more worked up already then you led on.

For everything any advice would try to give a man and make him an expert at such a task, Jon knew it was all useless. He didn’t need anything special or outrageous to work you up for him, simple, slow, simply not being predictable worked best with you. One pattern until you were drawing closer ever more to an orgasm, before Jon would change.

Each time he heard a little whine erupt from your chest, a beautiful little noise and never followed up with asking him or begging him for anything. You just lay there, and trusted Jons judgment. From small licks to much more sloppy work, Jon interrupted himself to suddenly suck at your clit, the cry then was perfect. He didn’t even bother opening his eyes to see how you looked, he couldn’t distract his focus.

Teeth barley scraping before returning to almost as if a kiss, soaking you as much as he knew that you were about to soak his mouth the moment he strayed downward to where you were truly offering the purest of tastes. But not yet, he needed to work you up to it. You came so painfully fast whenever he tasted you, and Jon needed to teach you to let him savour it. He knew how easily he could overstimulate you, but the taste was nothing you understood, he needed you to learn how to let him have you this way.

To ease you into handling more and more, to teach you how to keep up with Jons desperate, clawing appetite for everything your body could gift to him. Drawing you nearer and nearer, his focus on your clit was nearly stinging by then, but you couldn’t stop him. His strength compared to yours was something else entirely, and until you begged for him to stop, Jon would keep you here.

There was no one around, no one to interrupt. And nowhere to go in the morning that would needlessly take him from you. One would think Jon got as much pleasure running his tongue along your clit as you gained from it, but truly, he did. The small, breathless sounds trying to hide in your chest made Jons cock throb. He was so painfully hard, and yet currents of pleasure would run through his veins and attacking each nerve every time he felt you come close.

Making you feel goodoo was genuinely, without any exaggeration, something that Jon adored doing. It was something he could always give you, and it wasn’t the sort of gift that other people could so easily offer. And until Jon, no one else did offer it. No one cared about you enough, but the way your thighs tensed and your feet dug until the muscles of his back, Jon held back a grunt in his chest. If he was to be completely honest with himself, any man who didn’t enjoy being between a womans legs like this was pathetic.

Tighter his hands gripped you, and more he yanked you down the bed to hang over it’s edge so Jon could shift at what angle he teased you at. Once then twice he felt your end nearing, and both times just as you were about to part your lips and beg his name, did Jon leave you, letting his lips and teeth sink high into your thighs, the same bruising, indenting work he gave to your neck but where no one but Jon would see.

One orgasm denied one side, then another the other, part of Jon felt a wave flow through him of something burning at the image. He didn’t know how he’d ask you for that, if not wanting to accidentally kill you of embarrassment. Nor did he truly trust no one to see the photo if he did take it. But the image was there, bruising your inner thighs with his mouth, and the additional image of maybe pulling out of you just once to cover you with his seed, and take a picture of it.

Maybe he’d do it last, so that too would perhaps some still be inside you enough it was clear he had taken you time and time again more then one way. You’d feel terribly embarrassed letting him do that, but even if he didn’t have it in him to take a picture of the sight, he’d want to do it anyways. If, Jon thought, he was strong enough to be able to pull out of you in time.

Which was another issue all together, even telling himself he’d be willing to cum anywhere but deep inside you. Finally, as he sucked roughly at your clit to the point he felt your hand toy with raking through his curls, did Jon sink lower.

Shift your hips up more, Jon finally could sink down into your cunt. You were utterly soaked. His eyes opening just enough to see what you offered him, before smothering his growl against you. The vibrations making you cry out more and more, but Jon finally could run his tongue flat along your folds and seek the heavy taste of purely you.

Jon didn’t even register how freely and unbecoming of him did he groan against you, your taste better then any food or drink he’s had and you offered it up to him for free. He had to do nothing to convince you to spread your legs for him, and Jon was greedy to have it. His facial hair scratched raw against your new marks, your hand digging into his hair that time.

A rush of need coursing through him as you pulled at the strands. Jons eyes opened, nothing but black staring up at your frame, splayed out as he never stopped his mouth or tongue. Watching you with a darkness as he drank from your cunt, eyes rolling into the back of his head he closed them again and dragged his tongue along inside of you.

Soaking everything up, and even there he could feel you clenching around him so close. Sliding one hand along your hip, did Jon roughly grasp the meat of your ass, almost pushing you to his mouth more, his tongue running along you with nothing but a need to get as much taste as possible. Not even focused on bringing you to an orgasm, Jon growled and groaned more each time he sunk deep and was graced with more of your taste.

He could almost not hear your beautiful high pitched begs, the senses not tethered to his taste and touch alone almost were muffled as if underwater. “Jon, please..”

Barley willing to detach from your cunt, Jon just barley managed to hiss out in what was likely barley a comforting tone. “I’ve got you, darling.” His eyes fluttered open enough without ever leaving his tasting of you to see you nod, head nearly thrown back as it fell back to the bed, your hand no longer tight in his hair but holding on to him for all you had.

His mouth soaked you as much as you soaked him, drinking every bit of wetness you offered to him, and Jon leaving only the traces of his saliva to echo the greed to held in it’s place. The bruising around your thighs still making your feet dig deeper into his back instinctively as his coarse facial hair scratched at the raw skin, a sick blend of pain and pleasure that he loved keeping you on the edge of.

But Jon was tied, you were so close. He could sense you were so close and if you came, you’d gift him something perfect to drink of you, but then he’d have to let you finish. And Jon wasn’t sure he wanted to let you do that just yet. Maybe later, maybe not tonight.

So he bided his time, dragging you along that edge into the darkness but never letting you fall, just the tease that the fall existed without giving it to you. His tongue flat along your folds ran back to your clit just to tease before returning back to the source.

Inching you closer and closer and just as your head threw itself back with a cry of his name, did Jon take it all from you. So cruel and sudden too. All but throwing your thighs from his shoulders as he tore himself from your cunt. The moment your eyes opened trying to call his name in a painful confusion of being taken from, Jon leaned over the bed back to you.

One hand pressing into the sheets, the other Jon cupped your cheek, turning you to look at him. Your lips parted like his, but bitten at as opposed to his shining with the remains of your taste. Your hand grasped at his wrist as the other held at his side but Jon lowered to your lips. Roughly capturing you in a kiss, he didn’t spare time to use his advantage to slip his tongue into your mouth. Running it along your own, sharing the pure taste you never gave another man but him in the same way he ran his tongue inside of you.

A muffled cry moaned into his mouth and Jon wrapped his other arm around your back, pressing you high to his chest as he shared your taste, never giving you air to breathe with his tongue selfishly deep in your mouth as he pleased.

A desperate whine left you, and only then did Jon part from your lips. Hooded, black eyes staring down at yours still not even yet fluttering open as you tried to kiss him again. Only briefly did Jon oblige, instead choosing to part ways before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Resting his to yours, he tried best he could to slip the hand at your cheek behind your head, somewhat running down the length of your hair as he waited until he knew the sudden sting would’ve eased.

Pulling back, Jon climbed up onto the bed, motioning you at the hips to help let him push you to lay back against them fully. “Come on.” Your hair splayed out against the pillows, Jon pulled each of your legs to hitch up against his hips, spread again wide for him as his cock brushed between your legs, a stuttered cry leaving you, only to be gently simmered by a chaste kiss as he leaned down.

Not moving, his cock teased resting heavy and hard against you, only to refuse to part from your kiss either. Softer then before, your arms wrapped around him. So close pressed to his chest Jon could swear he could feel your heart pounding.

Letting one hand slip down, Jon barley needed to even move before he was at the perfect angle. Before you even could grasp how close he was to doing so, Jon murmured your name as he ran his nose along yours before pressing his lips back to you. At the same instance, Jons cock sunk deep inside of you. Tight and soaking warm around his length, but you held such little resistance. You fit his cock perfectly, and Jon knew.

He didn’t need to ask to know, that no man who had felt this before him had it this perfect. You were made to fit his thick cock, not anyone elses. It was a wonder any man had ever made you cum before him, certainly not with this act alone. It was impossible. You were born to be filled by Jon. And he knew, you were born for him alone. No one else could slide this deep, hear you gasp their name so innocently despite how well you were taking his cock. No one else truly knew what it was like to feel the grasping of your hands in his hair begging his name with a desperate ask you didn’t even understand.

But he did. And it was a slow answer. Gentle he was sliding out, leaving almost nothing left before his kiss almost acted as something soothing. A promise not to worry, and obliging greatly as he slid back as deep as you could take him. Dragging along such a sensitive wall as you already clenched around him, Jon knew he had to be careful.

You’d cum so easily at this point, and he had to control himself. He needed to keep you from it, and he knew you’d try to listen if he told you so. Barley pulling from your lips, again Jons length slid almost completely from your warmth before filling you again, and a painfully slow pace he did it without ever thinking he’d pick it up. Rasping against your lips as he pressed his forehead to yours, keeping you there with a hand cupping the hair at the back of your head, his other holding your thigh high against his hip to keep you wide open for him. “Need you to do something for me,”

Barley having managed to mutter his own words out, your hands grasped at his shoulders and into his curls as you couldn’t even get that much out. Moving as much as you could along with him, you nodded as words failed to leave you that were anything but cries of need.

Jon felt the weak desire overcome him, capturing you in another short but roughly urgent kiss before rasping against them with a command that was as strained as it was serious. “If you’re close, I need you to tell me and I need you to hold back, alright?” Jon couldn’t keep his mind straight at how you didn’t ask why, didn’t protest, just begged out in a whisper that you promised him and he felt his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Leaving your hair, Jon reached the same hand up. Grasping roughly at the headboard above you, as his other hand all yanked your thigh up higher, letting him sink even deeper. It wasn’t any faster, but Jon found the strength in him to use the leverage, pulling slowly almost out of you before much more roughly did he pound back deeply. The sounds obscene, but yet here he could find it in himself not to care.

One after the other, did his hips slap against yours, the sound echoing in the room as the not so sturdy bed compared to his at home, freely banged against the wall sat behind it. Slam after slam, only it too was accompanied by growls and guttural grunts leaving Jon as each time made his blood boil. You were so tight around him, but so utterly soaked that were you not keeping his cock in a vice, he might have slipped out. But you clenched around him as if afraid of him leaving you.

Forehead pressed against yours before keeping that composure was too much. Falling just so slightly into your neck, Jon found no care in tearing right into the marks he had made earlier, gasps leaving you as your nails scratched into his scalp and a growl responded. His teeth marking you up more as he kept the slow but pounding pace that you could only make beautiful tiny sounds over and over compared to the more unhinged sounds leaving him as if a predator.

The faintest of voices left you, “I can’t, Jon please..I-”

He could read you begging to say you were sorry, only for Jon to ease up. Trusting you to keep your legs high and wide for him, Jon let his hand around your thigh go to cup your cheek. Pulling you to meet his lips as he slowed back down to nothing more then a grinding with no roughness to be found. His curls growing damp as your hair too was, sweat forming between you both from how warm and close he kept you, but Jon craved it all more. Muttering again them so you felt his every word against your lips still, Jon would interrupt himself to kiss you before continuing multiple times. “Just for tonight, darling. I know it’s a lot.”

Nodding, your arms wrapped desperately around him. Another kiss both deep yet needing, Jon pulled you to hide in his neck. Never picking back up, but the strain in the muscles of the arm against the headboard meant that it was so much easier to give such shallow thrusts so deep inside of you. He knew you could barley even move against him this slow, but it wasn’t about that. Jon didn’t need you to do as much work as him here, he didn’t want you too.

As long as you let him inside you, that was all he needed, he’d do everything else. Including breathe through gritted teeth in your ear, biting down against it as well trying to keep the thoughts at bay but he couldn’t stop. The wedding was one thing, the texts were another, his plans for the next day acted either as the best or worst encouragement of those thoughts. And it was rougher thrusts his cock slid so deep that he struggled to not say it.

He wanted to, he shouldn’t, and he couldn’t. Not here and now but the want to say it was painful to hold back. But he was going slow with you, he wanted to be careful with you. He never wanted to hurt you again, and yet this might make you think he was attempting to trap you with him. In a sense, maybe it was that. Maybe he did want to trap you with him, but out of fear. A fear that he’d lose the best thing in his life, the one thing he could love who loved him back.

Pulling back, Jon guided your lips to his once again as he let his thrusts pick up once more. The thought hit him and it was inevitable. You were clenching so tightly around him, he couldn’t hold back, but as long as he kept your kiss, he wouldn’t say it.

Biting down on your bottom lip, the moment you parted your lips for him did Jon glide his tongue along yours. Picking up the pace suddenly, Jon felt himself nearly snarling into the kiss as you clenched around him, whined into his mouth but never disobeyed, never let yourself finish despite knowing Jon was determined to find his end inside of you. The headboard again banged against the wall, your skin slapped loudly against his too as he could hear how soaking wet you were each time his cock pounded so deeply, each time he went faster.

Tearing from your lips, Jon hid his face in your hair, a deep groan finding him as he begged himself not to say it. You clenched so tightly around him for a moment Jon thought you couldn’t hold on any longer, but you somehow obeyed and it was that which ended his resolve one way or another. A rasping husk of a voice growling your name into your ear did Jons muscles tense, the hand on the headboard flying back down to grasp at your leg and keep you wide open for him.

Each rough thrust was followed by thick spurts of his seed spilling inside of you, deep as he could manage and your nails clawed into his shoulders and back to not let the feeling bring you along with him. Instead, Jons seed poured and poured, thick and warm never leaving you.

Jon didn’t bother pulling out of you, instead, grasping you carefully did Jon move you up with him as he sat back on this knees, keeping you perched close in his lap. Your hands grasped at his shoulders with a cry leaving you, but he ran his hand down your sweat filled hair murmuring your name with a strain. Your eyes were bright as if needing to shed tears at the feeling of having to hold back, but Jon knew you’d never disobey him. He had you and you trusted that.

Cupping the back of your head Jon moved you to meet his kiss once more. Slowly his other hand moved you up and down. Your brows furrowed now trying to keep up, but Jon left your hair and pulled back. Lips parted and swollen like yours, he looked at what little of you he could see keeping you pressed so painfully close.

Both hands at your hips, and he didn’t keep the slow pace again. If the sound of skin smacking against each other was obvious before it was even moreso now. Bouncing you roughly, and none to kind of a speed up and down his cock. You let him fill you so deeply this way, hands grasping from your hips to both capture your ass tightly as he managed the same leverage only now you moved with him. Hiding in his neck again your lips were sweet and kind against his neck just needing to feel him more in some way as he did you.

Maybe Robb was right, maybe Jon was treading down a dangerous path but he couldn’t conceive a reason to think it was to be done out of malice. It was love, a love he’s always felt for you and now knew you long since felt it back and he wasn’t going to waste it. He was determined to keep it, and Jon just had to be careful not to allow such thoughts like the darkness in his chest give any including his brother a reason to think Jon would hurt you, in one way or another.

Twice more Jon spilled inside of you, both times never once letting you leave his cock as he bounced you roughly the entire time. And one more when he tipped you back down against the bed, and the last was found in a slow grind as his lips refused to leave yours. And never once did you falter in his orders to not cum yourself. He’d make up for it, but right now, he needed that control.

If he controlled this, maybe Jon wouldn’t lose it, and control in the one way he was still trying to keep out of his mind. It didn’t help when you fell asleep in his arms, his cock still deep and half hard inside of you with your front tucked into his chest.

You didn’t have to worry, Jon wouldn’t do that to you. But it didn’t stop him from desperately wanting too, and it seemed, Robb knew and distrusted that want in Jon no matter how little you sensed it

Hardly any time was spent between getting your stuff all into the house, and Jon leaving again. Kissing your hair as he passed you by muttering he would be back in an hour, you didn’t have a clue where he went, but being gone for nearly three days you assumed he had things pile up to handle, and didn’t think much more of it. Instead, you carefully begun putting everything away.

Sam had spent the second day showing yourself, Jon, and Gilly around Horn Hill. It was a nice break, truly. The Reach was warmer then the North even on it’s warmest days up here, and it was with a nice breeze as rivers ran throughout the town as it did many in that area in general. Part of you had worried you’d make things awkward at first. You’d spent time with the three of them before, but never as someone who was dating Jon, and in some manner you convinced yourself much like you did a few nights ago at the Stark house, that meant you now were only intruding on his time.

Instead it was fun, a time to forget everything that happened up here and just feel a bit like a person again. Being able to have lunch out on a patio of whatever bistro it was Gilly picked out, enjoying the sun and no pressure of anything on your mind. Today had mostly been driving back, but that was fine with you. It still was time with Jon you treasured, but now you faced everything once again.

Still you did not know what the issue was, what was between the brothers and suddenly you felt a sweeping around you of guilt that you were indeed at the centre of it. Robb appeared at the door, not being noticed as your back was facing him putting the remainder first of Jons things away. If he did greet you, you assumed it would be warm and welcoming back as usual, yet it wasn’t at all.

Nor did the question make sense to you. “Did anything happen?”

Turning with half a startle, your brow raised in question and your tone stretched the words in a slight pedantic manner. “We watched two people get married?” Not grasping why his own face twisted downward, Robb pushed up off the frame he leaned against of the door and walked in a bit more casually. Trying to drop a tone you now both knew was there, leaving you to close Jons drawers to put his bag away in the closet as you spoke. “I didn’t get extremely drunk if that’s what you were alluding too.”

Now hauling your own bag up onto the bed, you begun unpacking your stuff as Robb was now the one who was confused, or more accurately, he now shared your confusion. “That’s not- you’re allowed to get drunk at a wedding.” Muttering to yourself a bit childishly you only mentioned that you didn’t know what else he was expecting to happen. And not to your knowledge, but Robb stood a bit hesitant now to bring it up when you didn’t even guess what he had meant, or that you were supposed to be paying attention to something to mean in the first place.

“We have a fun time, Robb. Nothing to worry about.”

Trying to placate him, but not noting his narrowed eyes before covering them up as he walked beside you, grabbing at some of your things and putting them where he seemed to guess correctly their new spot would be in Jons room. Tone even, but a bit stilted as if holding back the frustration he walked in with. “Jon didn’t do anything?” It was a pure jest, the quick manner you joked in asking if he what, ran away with you to elope, but when you met his gaze Robb only tilted his head asking you to be serious.

Glancing away with a bit of nerves, you stammered in trying to maintain an air of normalcy that felt like it didn’t exist half the time with Robb anymore. “I don’t know what you’re worried happened, or even why, but nothing happened. We went to a wedding, we spent the day with friends, we drove home.” Meeting his gaze again with something bright yet soft hoping to get that through his curly haired head, “There’s nothing to worry about. Or to even think you would need to be worried. I didn’t get too drunk or anything.”

Head jolting back a little, Robb gave you a questioning look. “Why do you keep-”

You didn’t mean to raise your voice, it came out that way on an instant as you dropped the clothes in your hand to look at him. “Because you’ve been mad at him, or me or both of us ever since you picked me up from the bar that night.” Trying to run a gentle hand comfortingly down your hair as he insisted he wasn’t mad at you, you flinched away with something stinging behind your unpleasantly warming face. “If you’re not mad at me, you’re mad at Jon because of me. I’m sorry I got so drunk you had to pick me up, and I’m sorry you had to put up with me when everything with Daenerys was happening, but I don’t want you taking it out on Jon. He didn’t do anything wrong, and whatever you think he did he made up for it.”

It slipped out, you could tell it slipped out when his eyes closed with an exhaustive look on his face the moment the words were out there. “By what? Just fucking you more now, then you were afraid he was fucking her?”

Silence sat between you in the room. That warmth turned something unpleasant now felt even worse and the sting in your eyes felt as if you were about to let tears form. Instead your face steeled in it’s expression, snatching what was in Robbs hands and turning away from him as he called your name. “You can leave.” Once again, you felt the genuinity in his voice trying to apologize for what he clearly said in an unnecessary malice, but that didn’t make you feel any better. There was little chance Robb didn’t sense the waver in your voice as if trying to smother back any tears. “I don’t need you making me feel guilty for-”

It was too awkward for you to say, but you both knew what you meant. You didn’t need Robb of all people, someone who both deeply cared about you but you deeply cared for, making you feel ashamed for having a healthy sex life with your own boyfriend. You didn’t want to make this problem between them any worse then you already were. A hand ran over your back and you hated that Robb was so good at being instantly comforting as he said your name.

But you shrugged it off, now both of you fully aware you were trying not to cry. “I don’t understand what I did to cause all these problems, but if me being here is making it worse-” Robb tried getting you to face him, but you pulled from his touch, roughly jumping back into your point. “Just tell me if it would be better if I moved out.”

Robb didn’t say a word, nor did you see his heartbroken expression that you had taken his ire towards Jon so much more personally then he ever imagined you would. Maybe it was easy for you to blame yourself for what happened with Jon if you so quickly jumped to the conclusion that you were the issue between him and his brother. But none of that registered in your mind.

Though, he chose the better route, changing his mind as he tried to speak before cutting himself off. “I don’t want you to move out, love. Jon and I are dealing with something and I’m so sorry you feel like I’ve been taking it out on you.” Your eyes flickered to the side, not one to say things he didn’t mean in such a warm tone, you nodded. “I don’t want you to be upset, I went all the way to White Harbour to get fresh seafood so I could add them to dinner. Since you were coming home today.”

A small smile left you, and a little shrug at your shoulder with a far less enthusiastic but still meaning tone in a playfulness. “You went all the way out there?” Robb nodded, as if you could see if, but still you sensed it. “Why?”

That time you didn’t flinch when he ran a hand along your upper back. “You’ve made dinner nearly every night the past few weeks, I wanted to do something nice for you back.” Muttering a quiet thank you, Robb knew at least when to let a situation simmer out. “I’ll leave you be. Do you know when Jons back?” Guessing in about an hour, you finally looked at him, but your not so well hidden rattled expression was met by a more apologetic one from Robb as your face asked why. “So I can time it, I’m not trying to leave him out of things.”

He tried to reassure you, you’d give him that, but of what you still didn’t really know. You could only guess but you nodded as he left you be. Barley home for less then an hour and already you caused a problem.

Trying to go back to putting your things away, it was as if your hands were stuck as they finally went to handle the dress. Looking it over, your mind was caught on a memory. The way Jons face looked as you paid for it at the counter, how much even then you knew he looked as if he were desperate to let him buy it for you despite the fancy price tag. He had more money then you, he and his family always did, but you didn’t want to feel as if you were trying to get more from him then you already had at that point.

But it was something held back that now you knew was something much more soft and affectionate in him wanting to do something for you out of those feelings, but not wanting to step on your toes or be obvious about it. It felt similar as you looked to the now half closed door Robb left from. Like he was holding something back from you, but this time, you couldn’t grasp what that could be, or why you had caused him to take it out on Jon of all people.

By the time you were finished, did Ghost come trotting into the room nearly knocking you over to greet you. Which was just who you needed, picking up quickly that you seemed upset, you sat up on the bed as Ghost joined. Laying his head in your lap as you scratched along his ears before slowly letting your eyes droop.

You fell asleep without even realizing it, only to awake to a warm hand running through your hair and a gentle rasp to lull you awake in the most peaceful sounding manner your dreamless mind could’ve come up with, Ghost still cuddled into you as he chose to nap along with you. “Robb has dinner ready.” Before you had the chance to push up on your palms, Jon ran his hand more smoothly along the side of your head with a firmer touch as it prompting you not to rush. “Do you want me to bring you a plate here?”

Peeking up at him, part of your mind recalled the way Robb tried assuring you that everything was fine, in a manner of speaking and that it wasn’t your fault, but nor did you want to test that. If it wasn't your fault, their rift wouldn’t have started with a night you were the problem. And Jon bringing you food Robb went out of his way to make for you, while staying in the quiet and calm of Jons room sounded more comforting while you were still upset, you didn’t think it would help.

Instead you shook your head as Ghost too perked up to jump off the bed with you. “If you let me stay here, I’ll just fall right back asleep.” Grabbing both your hands to help you up, before letting go to guide you by your waist down onto both feet, Jon pressed a kiss to your forehead that lingered, muttering that coming home to you and Ghost napping together almost made him feel bad enough he didn’t want to wake you in the first place. Your smile was soft as he pulled you into his side, supporting you until you shook off the sleep the way Ghost could in seconds as he shook his head and fur out before darting out the door. “Did you get whatever you needed done?”

Jon nodded, a warm hand still running up and down your arm as he led you out, firmly enough you felt his touch even through the thicker sweater you wore. His voice rasped low in your ear as if still easing you out of sleep. “Had to drop something off is all, I’m still yours for the evening.”

It came out in tone as a joke, but it was said with a smile softer speaking then just that. “Hopefully for more then just the evening I hope. Or did seeing people get married make you think twice about us?”

Jon slid his hand down from your arm to your waist, a light pinch pulling a louder laughing protest from you, and a handsome but lovingly mischievous smile from you. At least you knew Jon well enough to know that was a firm no in his language.

Though the laugh in you didn’t last that long when as you expected, Robbs eyes met yours when you walked in, glanced to Jon, and got just the slightest bit less warm again. And once more, did you recall the bubble of peace you felt the past three days were nothing but a distraction from the truth that Jon and now Robb too were lying to you about.

The problem between them was you, without a shadow of a doubt.

Looking up to sky, Jon sighed deeply. The stars were bright that night, few clouds if any were there to block the view of the night as he sat there. Hand running over Ghost who sat by him as his head lay on Jons lap. Glancing next to the house, only some windows had any lights on and two of which were his room and that halls side of the bathroom where you no doubt were still showering.

His eyes darted in the darkness but found no one to interrupt, and no one to watch. Another sigh left before Jon shifted. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through one picture then the next in what he screenshotted before hovering over the screen with his thumb. Tempted to delete the evidence, it was the only logical course. He had been secretive about it from minute one, and he had left as soon as he got you back just to hide it where it wouldn’t be found anywhere near the house.

Sam had mentioned that when they were in Horn Hill, there was an old jeweller he wanted to visit. A gift for Gilly he had in mind, a necklace with her favourite animal on it since she never owned anything like that before. Jon had looked it up and his eyes had been drawn to one section of their website, and before he knew it, he was making notes on his phone to screenshot and keep for later.

That day after the wedding, Sam had gotten you to distract Gilly with something so he and Jon had an excuse to head over without fuss so he could buy it. But as Jon stood there, Sam discussing something with one of the workers, Jons eyes kept getting drawn to one section. Arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the more sturdy edge of the glass case, his brows narrowed trying not to think about it.

But, then he pulled his phone out to send you a message on how much longer he and Sam would be. He didn’t even look at the screenshots, just saw the icon of his gallery on top of his home screen. Like his lock screen was he and you, his home screen was you and Ghost. It was all he needed. His phone put back in his pocket, Jon managed to stand there for another ten minutes before he broke.

Muttering to Sam he’d be right back, Jon swiftly made his way to the other side of the store. A completely different attendant behind the counter, whom seemed quite ready to make a display of his wares. A section of far, far more expensive things was over on that side but Jon gave the man pretty much no time to make any pitch. He had the screenshot, he knew what he was looking for and he saw it right away.

Interrupting his greeting with a low, discreet rasp Jon just pointed down into the glass display to a very specific item. Only muttering that he needed that one in a specific size, and by the time his head raised to meet his expression the poor attendant was clearly taken aback by Jons blunt and curt demeanour. But, he did so swiftly. The right size acquired, before he could even ask if Jon wanted it properly displayed in one of their custom jewellers boxes, Jon shook his head. Saying he’d take it directly before paying what was far more money then most would for that sort of thing.

The attendant was grateful, no doubt working on commission and the amount of gold Jon handed over meant he would get a hefty sum of it. But seemed somewhat off put by him, and none too happy Jon stuck it in his pocket with nothing to protect it. Jon didn’t care about the fanciness of it all, he needed one thing and that was it.

By the time he made it back to Sam, Jon didn’t judge him for agreeing to that very sort of packaging for the necklace. Gilly had come from very little growing up and wasn’t used to this sort of luxury, and Jon didn’t blame Sam for wanting to spoil her. Noticing a smaller necklace that matched he gestured to it with something bright and knowing, “Whats that one?”

Sam looked abashed, but Jon much like Sam had felt for his situation, couldn’t be happier about it. “It’s for little Sam. I thought if his mother was getting something, he might feel left out.”

Jon managed a genuine laugh, trying to ignore how suddenly something that didn’t even weigh half of an ounce, suddenly was so noticeable in his pocket it felt like it was full of chunks of steel. “Careful with that.” Sam looking to him in question as Jon tilted his head in am amused expression. “I have five brothers and sisters, Sam. You start feeling like you need to always get one of them something extra then everyone else wants something extra too.”

He picked well, and Jon assured him Gilly would love it before the two headed out into the street to find you both, and settle on a place to eat.

Now though, in the settled cool night air did Jon sit in a clearing in the area before the wolfswood beyond him with Ghost. Looking through those very screenshots he took before sighing deeply, deleting one then the other and any note or tab associated with it. He had it, it was his, he didn’t need the evidence on his phone to linger.

Jon had drove all the way to his station at the Wall, the top drawer where some of his most precious reminders for his rougher days were kept, including two of his favourite pictures of he and you, and he kept it there. Locking it before leaving once more just to be sure no one would find it as it sat right atop a photo where you sat. Some of the others questioned what that was about, but no one saw really.

And you never asked him when he got back what he did. And he never hinted at it. Jon had not a single clue when he would do anything about it, but at least now it was there. Ready when he was, or, Jon knew he was ready. More it was ready when he hoped you were. Jon could drag you out there with him right now and be more then ready, but he needed you to be at that point and not a moment before.

Maybe too he could focus on that. If he kept it at his work desk, he would focus on that and not the other thoughts. He could keep them at bay until he sorted things out, made sure you were ready for any of that, found some miracle to fix things with Robb before he’d do any of that. Just now with a physical motivation to push him to figure all of that out.

But then it would itch at his mind. Jon sighed deeply again, letting a hand run down his face with a frustration at how much he couldn’t make it go away. The guilt didn’t mean it didn’t run through the worst parts of Jons head. That the worries Robb had about what Jon would do weren’t entirely unfounded, since he was thinking of them. He’d never act on it, but it all kept compounding making his thoughts about you more and more intense, more obsessive over the matter.

Jon was fully aware how much his thoughts were rushing into this, but as much as he could prevent himself from acting on it, he could not stop thinking about it. But that was why he bought it. Obsess over one to avoid wanting to do something about the other. As long as Jon kept the engagement ring a secret, just maybe that could take his obsession away from the thoughts clawing at his mind.

About how much Jon truly and desperately couldn’t stop thinking about getting you pregnant.

[bunnieswithknives]

As an avid D&D player and DM, I love this magic system you've created so much- bc it means that necromancy exists like it does in D&D, but because David is David (TM), he just goes "yeah, but yk what would make this better? Puppets." and just is flying by the seat of his pants trying to create a fusion of DIY crafts and reanimation. he even could be inadvertendly creating an entirely new form of magic while messing around with the Book and his puppetry, but no one will ever know bc he just wants to play around with his little flesh puppets instead of, idk, sitting down and writing an actual grimoire/codex on it and i love him so much for that <3

Really tho!! This is the closest anyone has ever come come to actual reanimation in this universe, not just souless zombies or possessed lamps, real breathing creatures with the souls of people and working innards to back it up! And he's not even writing it down!

[royalreef]

(( Working on updating my rules today (after having already cleaned the house), and trying to figure out how to phrase this change to them.

Namely, I want to start writing Miranda's self harm impulses and urges and even attempts a little more graphically, and talk a lot more about the trauma and what she's gone through in the way that they still intrude on her life and that she's still ending up traumatized through the Merkingdom again and again. I feel like it's dishonest, a bit, to not feature them, because understanding them and understanding Miranda's own feelings regarding them is key to knowing how to even move forward or what that might even look like to begin with.

Like, my point is that you can't have Miranda without the ugly parts. That's one of the themes that I'm working with here, and something that's very important to me. You can't have her without her trauma and abuse, and you can't have her without the atrocities that she commits and which she serves as a part of the Merkingdom's royals. You have to come to terms with both, and part of that is truly understanding and getting how nasty they are to begin with. I refuse to make them look cool, or fun, or enjoyable by any definition. If violence happens, my goal is to write it as deeply uncomfortable and horrific and possible, and the repercussions of that violence are always going to ripple out and grow larger and larger over time.

It feels wrong to me, to mention all of this and to have it feature so heavily, but not be willing to ever look it in the eye and see it for what it is, you know? Innuendo and fading-to-black just aren't cutting it here. There's a lack of understanding that these promote, and I'm not a huge fan of obscuring the very things that I am trying to get people to grasp.

[waywardsalt]

there is undeniable opportunity to make bellum x linebeck fucked up but i dont have it in me. im a sucker for it just being fine with a side of like. light nautical crimes against nature but i cant make it toxic or w/e after a certain point. theyre chilling

[livelaughlovekill]

panic

[cesium-sheep]

I ended up chatting with amy for a bit about how sick I am, and about fighting to exist before. it was really nice to talk to them. they understand the shit I say, I have some longer friendships but they're the longest contiguous contact so they understand me to an exceptional degree. they understand how bad it is, even though or because I can't actually explain.

it's easy to just depersonalize and forget and drift by, I was depersonalized for so long both interpersonally and psychologically and it's so easy to fall back into, especially with the brain fog and the literal physical numbness. but being sick is so lonely.

I miss them. I miss you all.

I miss everything.

[sunsburns]

okay but logan taking an interest in neighbor who works in fashion?? he always sees her carrying stacks of magazines, dressed in her chic attire that is sometimes a bit too tight in all the right areas, glasses slipping off her nose, always making calls on that damn phone, and yet he always wishes she looked his way…

oh anon ur cooking here. i think this is what's pulling me out of my writing slump 🥴 (wade breaking the fourth wall, suggestive 16+)

the first time he noticed you, it wasn't even in your building complex, but rather the stairs to the subway station down the street. you were rushing up the steps while he, wade, laura and al were just about to enter. it was al who noticed you first, calling out your name and poking your side with her walking staff.

you shrieked, dropping one of the fabric rolls you had been carrying, a curse at the tip of your tongue before you realized who it was. "al," you sighed, a little relieved, when you saw her and wade, who was dressed in a "i love nyc" t-shirt.

logan, being the gentleman he was, picked up the roll you dropped, handing it back to you. it was then that you looked at him, or well, briefly glanced his way with a quick "thank you" before wade started fucking talking.

that son of a bitch.

he didn't even have the courtesy to introduce the two of you to each other.

it was obvious you were in a rush, lips in a tight smile as you nodded and tried to smile at wade telling you all about how they were about to "hit up" times square.

logan felt bad for you, but only a little bit. the longer you stayed to listen to wade's painful monologue, the more he could look at you. he was a little shameless about it, perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing he could've done, but god you were just a sight for sore eyes.

a pretty thing in a mini skirt despite the cool late september breeze that was starting to kick, white, lace and ruffled. delicate with tall brown leather boots. and a washed-out denim vest you wore as a top, two buttons undone, a little pink bow tied to the pocket. logan didn't know a lot about fashion, but he liked the way clothes looked on you.

and then you were gone, al kicking wade across the shin to shut him the hell up when she realized you were in a rush. she let you go, and you left, quickly trading numbers with laura and without saying much of a goodbye or another glance logan's way.

but he watched you go, watched the way your skirt moved with the wind too.

"yeah, look at it bounce. god, i am no better than any man. " wade hummed, leaning all his weight on logan's side. "i didn't peg you as a creep, honey badger. with the way you were undressing the reader with your eyes, i would've thought you were on a registered sex offender's list."

"shut the fuck up, wade."

logan could hear the way laura snorted, her and al continuing their way down the stairs.

wade held his hands up in surrender before logan could try anything (and by anything, he meant to cut him to pieces. wade can't deal with that right now, the blood would take ages to get off his white shirt). "i'm just saying, after living with us for a few months, i would've thought you'd met her by now."

logan raised his brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i mean, she literally lives across the hall." wade turned his head to the side, pointing his thumb at logan, "he can't possibly be this stupid, right? it's gotta be for the plot to build up tension or something."

from that day on, logan's started to notice you more. not that he was looking for you, he's not that big of a creep. but he's spotted you out the window some days, running down the sidewalk, always in a rush. then he was able to hear the way you slam your door shut when you leave in the mornings or when you get back home.

every single day, you're usually out and about. unless it's a sunday, those are the days you stay in your apartment, sewing and hanging out with blind old al and sometimes even fucking laura. turns out, you were the one who got laura all of those new clothes, made them for her.

jesus christ, how out of the loop was he?

you stood out like a sore thumb, always carrying something. whether it be magazines, sketchbooks, fabric rolls, or bags, you're always struggling to open your door when you get home, keys sometimes slipping from your grasp as you're trying to juggle everything.

one day, logan had come back from a run and spotted you in the hallway. well, he had heard you from floors below and was able to pick up the lingering scent of your perfume by the time he entered the lobby. it took him a bit of courage to walk up the few flights of stairs knowing he'd bump into you.

what the fuck was this?

he was a grown-ass man for god's sake. you had him overthinking and blushing at the mere thought of being in the same space again.

when he saw you in the hallway, you were on the phone, the device tucked between your ear and your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you tried to pick up your keys. you were wearing a black dress that day, a black hat and a big maroon scarf around your neck, "no, emily, don't fucking buy it in that colour. it looks like fucking vomit. i don't care what amy told you, she's basically colour blind-"

you stopped mid-sentence when logan appeared in front of you, grabbing the keys for you. "oh- uh. thanks."

"yeah, no problem."

he noticed your nails and glasses were dark red to match the scarf. lipstick too.

you didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, he could tell from the way you froze, as if you didn't know what was supposed to happen next. he had disrupted your daily pattern, everything in your life moving constantly and quickly but all of a sudden everything is slower. it left you breathless.

"you're logan, right?"

he furrowed his brows. he hadn't expected you to remember him, nevertheless, remember his name. "yeah."

"wade told me all about you," you said, and your eyes dropped from his face a little, then lower, a smirk not too different from a sly cat's. you were staring shamelessly, eyes following every part and curve of his body, the way his long-sleeve shirt clung to his skin with sweat. "you don't seem austrailan."

logan tried not to groan. the picture of wade's stupid face in his mind now that you've mentioned him. he hated that the two of you seemed close. "i'm canadian."

"aren't you full of surprises?" you laughed, a smooth, teasing sound, and finally pushed the keys into the nob, unlocking the door. you turned, lingering by the door as if you were about to invite him in, but then the voice from your phone was trying to get your attention and you nearly seemed disappointed. "i'll see you around, logan."

and you were gone again.

logan liked to see your different outfits every day, dawning a different style every time you walked out that door. it was like you could never settle for one style, but you managed to look so fucking good in everything and every colour you put on.

he could never get tired of it. never get tired of you.

you and your tiny bottoms that he swore were getting smaller and smaller every day, even though the city grew colder and the days shorter. you and your stupid phone calls that sometimes went on late at night. you and your clothes, every single one different from the last.

you and your sketches, the ones he had started to find loose pages on the floor of the small hallway between your apartments, pretty designs of lingerie on a model that looked a little bit too much like you for it to be a coincidence.

though you never made another attempt to talk to him, you knew he was watching you. but you never chased, your heels were too expensive for that. you were just trying to give him a reason to come on you.

to you**

to come to you.*

sorry. typo.

[flowercrowncrip]

Today (July 19th) is Changing Places awareness day!

[Image description: a photo of the changing places toilet with the features listed below /end ID]

What is a changing places toilet?

A changing places toilet is a toilet which can be used by disabled people like me who can’t use a standard accessible toilet. This may be because someone needs extra equipment, and/or room for carers to help them. The main features of the changing places toilet are:

Lots of room! Changing places toilet must be at least 12 square metres. This means that there is plenty of room for a wheelchair user to turn around as well as room for up to 2 carers.

A peninsular toilet! This is a toilet which has enough room on each side were wheelchair to be positioned for transferring. As with standard accessible toilet there are grab rails on each side.

Accessible washbasin! The washbasin must have room underneath for a wheelchair user. An adjustable height washbasin is preferred.

A ceiling hoist! This allows people who cannot transfer independently to be able to safely get out of their wheelchair. A person brings their own sling which is hooked onto the hoist allowing them to be lifted.

An adult size changing table! This allows people need help with undressing to use the toilet, or help changing incontinence pads to have their needs met safely and with dignity. Without a changing table, many people have to resort to lying on the toilet floor to change their pads which is unsafe, undignified and unhygienic.

Why raise awareness?

The lack of changing places toilet means it’s hard for disabled people like me to leave the house. It’s limits our ability to socialise, access work/education, exercise, travel, and even attend hospital appointments. (In the UK there are only 93 hospitals with a registered changing places toilet).

I have to plan my entire life around the few changing places toilet that exist, which massively shrinks my world. It’s incredibly difficult for me to travel (less than 2% of train stations in the UK have a changing places toilet), go days out, visit the hospital, and otherwise experience the world outside my house. Hopefully one day every event like Pride or music festivals will have a mobile changing places toilet, and there will be public changing places toilet with 24/7 access in every town, as well as changing places toilets in public buildings like leisure centres, libraries, museums, cinemas, tourist attractions and shopping centres.

More info including what you can do to help the UK campaigns for more changing places toilets can be found at changing-places.org

[sturnsdarling]

'Chris likes girls who don't like him back'

Late night streaming with your best friends turns to a conversation about the boys' type, and Chris gets called out

vibe check: flirty fluffy fun, 3/4 of my favourite f words

1.4k words

A/N: i had this idea literally straight away after what Matt said about Chris' type.........the idea of being Chris' best friend that he openly fancies but you're 'not interested' makes MY TOES CURL BRO LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING anyway I hope you love this.

love and cigs, merc

"Matt he's right there what the fuck are you doing?!" you scream down the mic, nearly throwing your controller across the room as you jolt back in your chair.

You watch as Matt gets sniped in the head from the back, laughing as he wails on this desk, making the whole stream glitch and nearly crash. Chris is laughing along with you, trying not to make it obvious that he's watching you, and not Matt.

"Matt, bro you need to fuckin' up your game, y/n/n is actually carrying us right now." Chris says as Matt picks his chair up off the floor and sits back down in a huff.

"I always carry when I come on with you boys" you smirk, looking at the tiny square of Chris on your screen.

"yeah because you're a little sweat" Matt chuckles.

The boys had been streaming everyday for over a week now and, after some convincing, they managed to get you to join in on one of their games. At first you were apprehensive, obviously, but they explained that they were trying to diversify their platform and find a more mature audience so, actually interacting with girls on the internet was their first step.

You and the boys had been friends for forever, you met them through Nick in elementary school and had basically all been inseparable ever since, you'd been in some earlier videos but the fans back then made it very difficult to just exist around them so, you took it upon yourself to only exist in their real life, not their online one.

Cut to right now, you're nearly two hours deep in fortnite trios with the boys on stream, everyone was super excited to see you when they announced that they'd be joining and, other than a couple comments that you all ignored, it was going really well.

"Matt, someone asked what our types are" Chris laughed, reading the chat.

"I'm not answering that" Matt dead panned, screwing his face up at the camera

"I can answer it for you both, for sure" you chuckle, "chat do you want me to answer it?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes, omg yes" Chris was reeling off the answers in chat, "everyone wants y/n/n to answer, Matt should we let her?" Chris asked.

Matt rolled his eyes with a smile, "g'head, y/n/n, expose us" He chuckled.

"okay, so" you said, in your best girly gossip voice, "Matt likes nerdy, reader, soft girls" you begin to explain, your train of thought is interrupted by Chris erupting into laughter.

"dude she's so right! you love a girl that looks like she's always buried in a book" Chris wails.

"what are you guys even saying?" Matt complains, the smile etched across his face giving his tone a lot less power.

"you definitely want a girl who will go on a hike with you or some shit, Matt" You say, enjoying this whole interaction a bit too much.

Chris was keeled over in laughter, loving finally being able to talk about this kind of stuff on the internet without everyone going insane.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, Chris, you're next" Matt states, Chris shrugs in reply.

"i don't give a fuck, call me out y/n/n, gimme the best you got" Chris sits back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

"hmmmm" you say, exaggerating your thinking, "what is the famous Christopher Sturniolos type" you rub your chin, pretending to be thinking deeply.

A knowing smirk is spread wide across Chris' face as he stares at your face on his screen, tongue prodding the side of his cheek.

"I know Chris' type" Matt adds, a menacing smile on his face.

"g'head matt, you take this one" you gesture to the boy on your screen.

"Chris likes girls who don't like him back" Matts brows raise in accusation towards Chris.

You try and hide the smile forming on your face, attempting to look as focused on the game as possible as your tongue prods at your teeth. Neither of the boys say anything, both of them cheesing, Matt in a teasing and knowing kind of way and Chris more so in a 'I cant say what I wanna say' kind of way.

"damn, Matt, you just called me the fuck out" Chris shakes his head, looking to the tiny version of you on his screen.

You're still quiet, trying to fight the smile on your face and look as focused as possible, you catch Chris looking as if he's looking at you on his screen and shake your head with a chuckle.

"what you grinnin' at, kid?" Chris smirks.

You raise your brows, shaking your head with a downwards smile, "no, nothin', nothin" you say, returning your focus back to the game.

All of the viewers watched the interaction and were blowing up the chat with comments about how Chris definitely likes you, saying things like 'did you guys see that?!', and 'think they're slick look at how they're both smiling!!!!!'. Chris was reading the comments and trying to hide the red blush crawling its way onto his cheeks, Matt was relishing in the fact that Chris was so obviously nervous, and you were just trying not to react.

"Chris, dude, you better wipe that smile off your face, chat's onto you" Matt pokes the bear.

"chat ain't onto shit, Matt, shut the fuck up" Chris says, trying to be serious but unable to push his smile down.

"you know i'm right though, you do like girls who don't want you" Matt pushed on with his joke.

"Matt, shut your fuckin' mouth, dude" Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head, his smile still prevalent.

You couldn't help but laugh, still pretending to not care about the situation unfolding. In hindsight, it probably made it all the more obvious that you knew exactly what Matt was referring to.

"you're awful quiet, y/n/n, you got nothing to say on Chris' type?" Matt extends his joke over to you and your attention is immediately on him.

"nah, you hit the nail on the head, I think" you shrug, stretching back in your chair and adjusting your headset.

"oh really?" Chris replies, brows raised in accusation.

"mhm" you nod, faux innocently.

Chris kisses his teeth, nodding and trying to hide the smile on his face once again.

"yeah, chat, Matts right, I like pretty girls, who don't like me back" Chris says, subtly turning his attention to you and then back to chat.

You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning forward once more to lock into the game.

"you're ridiculous, Chris" Matt chuckles into the mic, watching you shift in your seat, trying not to blush.

The rest of the game went off without a hitch, you guys went on to win multiple times and all the viewers eventually stopped trying to get the conversation back to Chris' obvious crush on you. You played until the early hours of the morning, joking and laughing with the boys' just like old times and relishing in the fact that you were finally able to be a part of their online presence again. When it hit around three a.m you told them you had to sign off, explaining that you had to be up early for college that morning.

"guys, I gotta go, but I'll text you when I wake up" you said, pulling off your headset, and brushing your hair back with your hand.

"alright, y/n/n, thanks for helping us bury kids, its always a treat" Matt grinned at you, shooting you his token boyish smile.

"you know I live to humble kids on fort, Matt" You shrugged, putting on your best boyish persona, earning a laugh from Matt

"okay seriously, I gotta go, bye chat!" you smile, "bye boys" you go to switch off your computer but you're stopped by Chris booming voice.

"bye, beautiful" he says, a cheesy grin on his face.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as an uncontrollable smile finds your lips, "bye, Chris" you reply, switching off your computer.

The whole chat erupts with people losing their minds over Chris calling you beautiful, the boys say nothing, Matt just shakes his head, laughing at the chat as he watches Chris, grinning with pride and completely unashamed of his very obvious crush on you.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[spencerreidenjoyer]

giddy up | spencer reid x reader

Spencer gets shot in the leg. You help him feel better about it.

wc: 1.7k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: s5/jesus hair reid, established r/s, reader and spencer are both switches, riding, grinding, frottage, porn without plot, fluff and smut actually

a/n: was thinking about writing jesus reid/crutches reid for a long time and this was the only thing that came to mind. I am only a little sorry about it. (also find this fic on ao3!)

Of all the things Spencer could complain about after having been shot in the leg, not being able to fuck you properly is something you definitely did not consider.

You’d been worried sick when Penelope had called you, when Spencer had woken up after surgery. You were the first person he’d called for.

No unnecessary pressure on the leg, the doctor had said. Spencer was to use crutches at all times until the doctor cleared him. You don’t remember the rest of the doctor’s instructions, at least not now, when Spencer’s doing much better. He’s just been cleared to walk off his crutches, but he still has a slight limp in his step and starts to wince when he’s on his feet for too long. He hasn’t healed completely, but it’s enough to put you at ease being around Spencer, not having to worry excessively about him. 

While you know he’s grateful to have only gotten shot in the leg and not somewhere more risky, Spencer’s got a mouth on him, which leads you to where you are right now:

“I’m so tired of not being able to fuck you,” Spencer groans. 

You’re lounging in bed with him when he says this, and you whip your head around to look at him, shocked at his sudden admission. “Damn. What’s the matter, baby?”

“I just–” Spencer huffs in the middle of his sentence, like he needs to find the right words. It blows his hair out of his face. It’s cute, but what he says next is filthy in comparison: “I miss fucking you. Properly. Not just handjobs.”

“I thought you liked my handjobs, babe.” You pout, pretending to seem upset. “And my mouth.”

“I do!” Spencer is quick to correct you, insisting, “I like all of that, but it just doesn’t feel the same.”

“As to when you’re buried inside of me?” You whisper, resting your hand on his chest, giggling when Spencer turns red. While he was no longer the innocent, virginal nerd you’d met him as, sex talk still flusters him from time to time, and you love to fluster him.

“Baby,” Spencer whines at your teasing. “I’m serious. I miss making you feel good too.”

“You’re good with your hands, though,” you swoon, mind drifting. “And your mouth. Really good with your mouth.”

You think about Spencer asking you to sit on his face for the first time. Neither of you were exactly used to the position, Spencer typically preferring to be between your legs when he went down on you. But the way his tongue was expertly flicking at your clit, slipping into your hole, making you feel so good until you were making a mess of his face, your slick everywhere–

“Hey, focus.” Spencer taps your cheek, and you puff your cheeks. “I want you to feel good too.”

“I know, pretty,” you hum, letting your thumb trace his jaw. “I think I have an idea.”

Spencer quirks a brow in attentive curiosity. You, getting up from laying next to him, swing your leg across his hips. You sit down squarely on his crotch. 

Spencer’s eyes widen. “O-Oh.”

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” you coo. Spencer nods hurriedly. 

Spencer looks up at you with wide eyes, roaming all over your body but unable to leave it. He watches you roll your hips into his crotch. He lets out a pitiful whine. You feel him hardening between your legs already. You grind against him like this, solely intent on working him up. You know this kind of pressure isn’t enough for Spencer, pleasure dulled between layers of fabric, so you aren’t surprised when Spencer asks, “More, please?”

You smile. “Poor thing.”

“Please, darling,” he exhales. 

“Okay,” you hum, climbing off of him so you can get your shorts and underwear off. His eyes are so big as he stares at you, all of you, like he’s still surprised that he gets to see you undress. You laugh, and snake your hands into the waistband of his pyjama pants. You push them down, until his hard cock springs up, bobbing against his stomach. You meet Spencer’s gaze, before pressing your cunt to his cock.

You both gasp, feeling each other’s warmth. You’re so wet you know you must be making a mess of Spencer right about now. You don’t slip him inside of you just yet, instead grinding your bare pussy against Spencer’s length. You can’t imagine how it feels for him, but you see the way his face is scrunched up in pleasure – what you’re giving him is not entirely enough. You know he misses sinking into your wet heat, and you’re just giving him a taster, sliding his cock along your slick folds, pressed against your leaking hole.

“Spencer,” you moan, rocking your hips harder. It feels so good, Spencer’s hardness against your cunt, the tip of his cock nudging at your clit every time you press your hips down. It’s too much yet not enough, both you and Spencer needing that sweet relief, the feeling of his cock pressing into you. Still, you want to drag it out for him, and you grind your pussy against him some more. “You feel so good, baby.”

“It would feel better if you let me fuck you, darling,” Spencer grunts with gritted teeth. You can tell he’s desperate, his hands antsy by his sides, nails digging into his palms. 

“Mm, not yet,” you hum, feeling a little bratty, enjoying the feeling of building tension, growing arousal between the two of you, between your legs. It’s heaven grinding against Spencer like this.

And maybe you’re too wet, or Spencer is too convincing, because by some act of God, when you roll your hips down against him again, the head of his cock is breaching your entrance, and you moan when you feel his tip pressed inside of you. “Oh–!”

“Fuck,” Spencer moans, long and drawn-out. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

You can’t blame him, since you’d put a stop to sex with Spencer as he recovered. You’d only started giving him handjobs and blowjobs once you were sure an orgasm wouldn’t break him – “I promise an orgasm won’t hurt. It’ll be fine. I’m a doctor.” “You’re not a medical doctor, idiot.” – even then, penetrative sex was off the table.

Until now, as Spencer’s cock pushes deeper inside of you, and the rolling of your hips only serves to remind you just how good Spencer feels. You’ve missed this, his thick cock pressed inside of you, splitting you in half, filling you up until you don’t know anything other than his name. 

“Spence,” you whine. “Feels good.”

“I know, darling,” Spencer groans. “You feel tighter than I remember. Wetter too.” 

He sounds so nonchalant saying these things, and that only serves to drive you more insane. When did he get so confident, so cocky? You want to say something witty but you can’t find the words. Spencer just continues, almost bored to the untrained ear, but you know Spencer’s barely keeping himself together, “So, are you going to ride me or not?”

You grumble, your thighs flexing as you push yourself up, shifting from a rolling, grinding motion to bounce on Spencer’s cock instead. You don’t think you’ve done this before with Spencer, always content letting him get on top, so the new angle makes the both of you a little crazy. He moans, and so do you.

Like this, Spencer’s cock fucks you deeper, harder, the weight of your bouncing thrusts driving him into you until you feel positively ruined. You cry out, desperate, “Spence– Oh, Spencer, oh my God–”

“You’re riding me so well, darling,” Spencer says in awe, slack-jawed. His large hands come to hold your waist, feeling you bounce on his cock, helping you with the laborious movements. “You look so fucking hot right now.”

You whine, thighs already feeling the burn, but the way Spencer’s using your weight to fuck you down onto his cock has you feeling lightheaded. You think you like the feeling, being pushed around like a warm, wet fleshlight for Spencer to fuck into. “Spence, so deep–”

“I want to fuck you so badly right now, my love,” Spencer groans. You feel his hips bucking up into you slightly, right when he pulls your ass down against him, but you know his movements are restricted because of his leg. Still, his desperation to bury himself into you is wild, and your head spins. “But I can’t, and you’re doing so good fucking yourself on my cock.”

You tremble, using all your strength to fuck yourself on his cock, sobbing because you just feel that good. Spencer’s filthy words and the intensity of it all has you weak, and you wish Spencer could just flip you over and finish the job.

“Come on, darling,” Spencer encourages, his hands squeezing your ass and your thighs. It makes you feel wanted, a desperate Spencer’s way of feeling you. “I’m so close too. You’re doing so good.”

“Spencer-!” You sob, clenching around him as you come, your orgasm wracking through your body like electricity in your veins. It’s so good, too good like this, Spencer pressed up inside you like he could split you in half. 

You’re frozen as you feel him inside, his cock twitching as he blows his load. It’s warm and wet and sticky, as you feel it drip out of you. You almost can’t believe it, feeling Spencer buried to the hilt of you after months, and you wonder why it hadn’t occurred to either of you to do this sooner. 

You whimper as your emotions rush over you, and Spencer is quick to pull you close, his lips pressed to the top of your head. “That was crazy. You’re amazing. And perfect. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say, still a little breathless. “We should do that more.”

“Until my leg is better? Then I can fuck you the way you want,” Spencer soothes, his hand petting your hair, and that certainly sounds like a good idea.

“Yeah. But we should also just do that again some time,” you giggle, resting your head on his chest. You feel his heart pounding under your ear. “I like riding you.”

Spencer laughs heartily, a warm sound that is like music to your ears. “Giddy up, cowgirl.”

[pleasantboatpress]

so, you wanted to start bookbinding?

so @princetofbone mentioned on my post for "factory settings" about wanting to know more about the binding style that i used for it. so i thought i might make a post about it.

i was as terrible as i always am for taking in progress shots, but i can link you to the resources i used in order to make my book. i would also like to point out that "factory settings" is my 120th bind, and i have been doing bookbinding as a hobby for just over 3 years now. unfortunately this means some of the methods that i used for that bind aren't particularly beginner friendly, just in terms of the tools and methods i have used, but i would love to point you in the right direction when it comes to resources. i dont say this to sound pretentious which i fear i might come across, just so that youre fully informed. getting into this hobby is fun and rewarding, but it can definitely be intimidating.

with that caveat, heres a list of links and resources that i have used for bookbinding in general, with additional links to methods i used specifically in regards to this bind.

ASH's how to make a book document. it gives you a great introduction into typesetting fics (where you format the text of fics to look like a traditionally published books) and then turning them into a case-bound book (the style i used for "factory settings"). it is comprehensive, and explains how to use microsoft word to do your bidding. it was invaluable to me when i was just starting out! currently i use affinity publisher to typeset/format my fics for printing, but i only bought and learned how to use that after i had been binding books for a year and a half. i made some beautiful typesets with word, and some of my close friends use it still and design stuff that i never would be able to in my wildest dreams (basically anything by @no-name-publishing)

DAS Bookbinding's Square Back Bradel Binding. a great style to do your first bind in! this method requires, when making the case, to attach the cover board and the spine board to a connecting piece of paper, which makes it so much easier to match the size of the case to the size of the text block (your printed out and sewn fic). using this method is what allowed me to get much more accurately fitting cases, and made me much more confident with the construction of the books i was making. a well-made book is something that is so wonderful to hold in your hands!

DAS Bookbinding's Rounded and Backed Cased Book. This is the specific method that i used to create my bind for "factory settings"! even before i could back my books, i found that watching DAS's videos in particular helped me see how books were traditionally made, and i was able to see different tips and tricks about how to make nicer books.

Book Edge Trimming Without... i trim the edges of my text block using my finishing press and a chisel i have sharpened using a whetstone and leather strop with buffing compound on it. i follow the method for trimming shown in this video!

Made Endpapers. i follow this method for my endpapers, as i used handmade lokta endpapers, and they can be quite thin, but they look beautiful! i used "tipped on" endpapers (where you have your endpaper and then put a thin strip of glue on the edge and attach it to your text block) i used for a very long time before this, but these feel like they are much more stable, as they are sewn with your text block.

Edge Sprinkling. this is the method that i used for decorating the edges of my text block. but the principle is basically clamping your text block tight and then sprinkling the edges. i do not believe you need to trim the edges in order to do sprinkles on the edges, and that's what makes it accessible! i personally just use really cheap acrylic paint that i water down and then flick it onto the edges with my thumb and a paint brush.

Double-Core Endbands. i sew my own endbands, which i followed this tutorial for. that being said, it's kind of confusing, and this video is a bit easier to follow, but it is a slightly different type of endband.

Case decoration. i used my silhouette cameo 4 to cut out my design for "factory settings" in htv (heat transfer vinyl). i also used my cameo 4 to cut out the oval of marbled paper on the front, as i honestly didn't want to try my hand at cutting an oval lol. i also glued some 300 gsm card with an oval cut out of the centre of it onto the cover before covering it with bookcloth, to get a kind of recess on the cover. i then glued the oval of marbled paper onto the top of the recessed area once it was covered with bookcloth, so that it was protected. the images i used were sourced from a mix of rawpixel, canva and pixabay. a more accessible way to get into cover decoration is by painting on a design for your cover as described in @a-gay-old-time's tutorial just here. or even doing paper labels, which look classy imo.

physical materials. sourcing these will depend on your country. i am located in australia, and have compiled a list with some other aussie bookbinders of places to buy from. here is a great post describing beginning materials for getting started binding.

@renegadepublishing. this tumblr is great! its what got me started bookbinding, and being in the discord has been inspiring, motivating, and honestly just one of the best online experiences i have ever had. it is full of resources, and most people in there are amateur bookbinders, with a couple of professionals thrown in. the discord is 18+, and anyone can join!

i'm sorry this post got so long, but i hope that this has a lot of information for you if you would like to get started bookbinding. its one of the best hobbies ive ever had, and i genuinely believe i will have it for the rest of my life.

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

contents: fluff. established relationship. found family. megumi takes up baking and it takes you back to your teenage years when a certain white-haired someone pined for you. 1.4k wc.

Nine year old Megumi has a crush on someone. You were pleasantly surprised when he asked you to take him to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients, and you inquired if there was a special occasion or a school cooking project as you both walked along the aisle and collected the items on his list that he prepared beforehand.

Your heart melts when you learn that he was planning to gift the pretty girl in his class something homemade, and he decided on butter cookies because she mentioned in passing that it was one of her favorite snacks. You think it’s incredibly sweet that Megumi came up with the idea himself, and even more so that he wanted to set aside a weekend to create something completely from scratch with his own two hands when purchasing a square tin would’ve been much easier.

It certainly reminds you of an insufferable yet equally lovable sorcerer that’s way too tall for his own good with too bright blue eyes that make you forget everything around you if you stare into them a little too long. When you both were just two young teenagers pining after each other and he showed up with a white pastry box hidden behind his back on a summer day, with the strawberries in season and nurtured and harvested to perfection. You smile at the pleasant memory before forcing yourself back to reality.

When you are getting ready to pay for the things you and Megumi placed on the conveyor belt, he stops you and pulls out his Digimon wallet (courtesy of Gojo’s taste in presents) and explains he wants to purchase it with his own savings and be able to say that this gift is entirely by him without receiving any help from others.

You almost had to hold back a tear because when did this boy become so sweet? You suppose he always was this sweet and thoughtful, it just took a bit of time and some trust for him to fully warm up to you and Gojo despite the circumstances with his family and almost being sold off like a pawn to the Zenin clan. And now he has a home where him and his sister could feel like they belong and be surrounded with people that he could depend on because at the end of the day Megumi is just a boy much too young to be growing up too fast.

You announce your return home to Gojo and Tsumiki with the soft thud of the grocery bags being placed on the kitchen counter, and Megumi scurries into his bedroom to fetch the printed recipe he tucked away in a drawer. You carefully take out each item from the bags to place on the surface for him to get started, and white tufts of hair come into your peripherals and Gojo greets you with a cheeky grin.

“Angel, you’re back.” His hand falls on your hip and he softly pecks your lips when you turn your head toward him. He does a quick scan of the contents in front of you, and he decides you must be some kind of mind reader or his telepathic messages have finally reached you after several days now. “Aw baby~ Don’t tell me you’re baking something for me? How did you know I was craving—”

“Not me.” You shake your head and cut him off promptly. “Megumi.” And at the mention of his name, the young raven-haired boy enters the kitchen with a loose paper in his grip. You offer him a polite smile before addressing that everything he needs is on the counter and point to where the baking equipment are, and if he has any questions or concerns then you’ll be in the next room with Gojo as you drag your boyfriend by the arm to give Megumi his privacy.

“You see, Satoru, our Megumi here has a crush on someone. And he’s taken it upon himself to bake her cookies!” You say just above a whisper, a proud smile lining your lips and Gojo arches a curious brow. You catch a peek between the threshold that separates the kitchen and sitting area with Gojo looming behind you and find Megumi checking off the ingredients and looking over the instructions. He’s being thorough, that’s a good start.

“Megumi, eh? You know, I’m a little surprised he’s crushing at all. He’s quite the serious kid.”

You huff at him softly. “Well, serious or not, I think everyone is allowed to have crushes. Besides, doesn’t this remind you of something? Like that time you baked me a strawberry shortcake because strawberries were my favorite?” You look back up at him, and in your gaze there was always a sort of sweet and dreamy expression that never fails to make his heart swell three times too big.

“Ah.” Gojo chuckles, and his mind drifts back to the fond memories of his own youth, when he too used to try his hand at baking sweets in the hopes of impressing you. He remembered how long it took and how many attempts he made since he had no prior experience. There was a lot of flour and eggshells, and maybe he did set the oven on fire… but the moment he saw your face light up with your beautiful smile it was worth all the trouble and the mess. “That was the cake that changed it all for us, huh?” His arms move to your waist and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You nod and hum affectionately, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck though with his height he had to bend down slightly. “That’s one way to put it. But as much as I appreciate the sweet gesture, I am so glad you left the baking to me since then.”

“You’re still teasing me about that to this day?” He playfully nips the sensitive spot on your neck causing you to giggle and lightly shove him away. “But hey, I never claimed to be a master chef. A little bird told me that maybe a homemade cake from me would be the thing to win your heart.”

“Well, I hope you know it was more than the cake that won my heart.”

“Yeah, I know it was my good looks and charm, you can’t get enough of me.” Gojo teases, peppering kisses over your shoulders and neck before pulling back just enough so his smirk comes into your view. “Enlighten me then. Since I still don’t have a clue why an Angel like you fell for a great catch such like myself.”

You playfully roll your eyes at his jokes, and you mull it over for a long moment to purposely keep him in anticipation. There are so many reasons that made you love Satoru Gojo back then, and every day you find new things to love about him. But for now the two qualities that come to mind should suffice for an answer. “Maybe it’s because I found you funny. And cute sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Cute most times, I think.” Gojo quips, and he gently pinches your cheeks. “And of course, my sense of humor is legendary. Who else can make you laugh like I do, hmm?”

“Alright, I think that’s enough flattery for you in one day. Any more and I’m afraid your enormous ego might burst.” There’s a teasing lilt in your voice, and suddenly the air around you feels sweeter as Gojo brings you closer to him and kisses your cheeks before resting his forehead against yours.

“But you know I love you, right?” He says in a much softer tone. “I might tease you a lot and act like an idiot sometimes, but I do appreciate you still being here with me through it all. Without you, I don’t want to imagine what my life would be like without you. You make me a better person, you know that?” He tenderly cradles the side of your face and gazes lovingly into your eyes before there’s a flash of his dimples and a boyish giggle. “And the fact you think I’m cute is icing on the cake. Pun intended.”

You groan softly but the laughter that came shortly after is one of genuine affection. “I'm gonna go check on Megumi.” Before you turn on your heel, you plant a big smooch on his cheek then you’re gone the next second. He stands there, grinning from ear to ear as he rubs the spot you kissed like he still was (and he still is) the lovesick boy just a few years back.

꒰ note ᰔ the idea where megumi takes after gojo in some ways really squeezes my heart and that’s what inspired this little piece. ꒱

[mo-aiki]

I now love you, is it too late? (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)

Summary: Heartbreak and romance are two sides of the same coin. They both deal with love between another. Your heart is broken but you are trying to move on, but someone is preventing you from doing so.

Notes: I never thought that the previous story would blow up like it did. You can read the first part here.

Warning: alcohol consumption, drugging someone, forced love, obsession, stalking, mentions of violence, I don't condone it, I just write it.

The days after his conversation with you, he should had been elated. For the first time in his life, he wasn't bothered by you and your antics. He could finally get work done without you bother him at every corner to come visit him or play with him. For the first few days, he was able to finish everything for once in his life instead of having a pile to do the next day. But overtime, somehow he was dreadfully bored.

His office felt quiet. Almost too quiet. The only sounds he could make out were the papers shuffling, the clock ticking, and the the voices that came in and out of his office.

Also, overtime he had completed work for the month. He was used to working more the next day and having work stacked up to the point that he needed to catch up, that now he has no idea what to do once he finished work for a month or two.

Alaric thought he could read. He has always enjoyed reading in his free time. But once he got to reading, he felt bored once again. He never realized that the books he read were nothing but boring. The books were full of political theory, history of the most boring topics, and informative information.

His lunches were quiet, his dinners were quiet, and his stomach often rumbled when he forgot to eat.

Life felt repetitive, boring, and dull. He was stuck in a routine of eat, work, and sleep. Nothing ever happened.

When (y/n) was here, she would always drag him somewhere, she had wanted to go to. To go shopping, a picnic, a play, an opera, to watch duals, or to eat. He always felt tired after those things, but at least it brought him excitment.

(y/n) often made sure he would eat flavorful foods and her favorite foods, to the point that he knows everything she likes.

(y/n) often made a ruckus in his home. Always talking, calling servant’s, squealing at her romance novels, and chatting with everyone.

'At least the manor was never deadly quiet whenever she was around...' he thought of as he smirked.

Wait. Why is he thinking about her?

He should be happy that she is no longer bugging him as often as she did.

He saw you outside. He was shopping for new cufflinks. His were "getting out of style" his secretary had told him. Maybe it was just a ploy to get him out of the manor, but he still went out nevertheless. He was in a jewelry shop. Unconsciously, he went to the one you often visited. The man knew who he was anyways, so might as well cut to the chase.

"Ah?! Your Grace!"

The man seemed to be looking for (y/n). "Where is Lady (l/n)? Doesn't she often accompany you?"

He just stood quiet for a moment before his secretary popped in. "His Grace is here to get cufflinks."

The man's eyes brighten. "Ah. Lady (l/n) has already thought of that for you. Please wait here Your Grace."

He brought out a box that he had gotten from a certain part of the store. He opened it, and there were square shaped, dark blue jewels, bordered with small diamonds, the metal gold. It looked like it suited him. Very well. She knew his taste well. She knew what he liked.

"If Your Grace does not like it, you can commission another..." said the man selling him the product.

Alaric shook his head. "No, it's perfect."

He signaled at his secretary to give him a generous check in his name as he left the shop, only to find you, looking at the ocean view from across the shop.

Why did it look like you were looking for something?

More importantly, why did it look like you were looking for someone?

You wore a bright dress, your favorite lace gloves, your prettiest sunhat and carried your favorite parasol.

He was confident that he was the only man who has ever had a very close relationship with you, other than acquaintanceship.

Wait, why was he thinking this?

Why should he care if you saw another man. This is an engagement of convenience anyways. There is no point in scrutinizing every man that either comes or came in your life.

But if you were going to be talking to men after him, they better be better than him. He was not going to be beaten by some half-rate man, who has never held a sword in his life, who has never had to train often to live up to your a standard(s), who has never had to deal with the responsibilities of being a duke from the moment he was born, who has not needed attention from you, and who has never lived up to your ideas of love.

He wasn't going to lose to a man who never even knew you like he did.

But he saw you were being accompanied by a maid after his thoughts had raged through his head. He walked closer towards you. He saw you.

Your eyes had seemed like the eyes that often looked his way when he greeted someone. Not like their lively selfs that he was so used to from you. Your eyes always shone brightly when he was in your presence.

Your smile, one of formality, not your genuine one. You smiled the brightest whenever he was around. Anyone could tell with that smile that you loved him.

You looked like any other person he had interacted with. Formal and in-line with etiquette.

Even your speech was formal. It was no longer bright and cheerful. It was no longer, "Alaric! What are you doing here?", it was now, "Pleased to see you, Duke Caius."

"It's pleasant to see you too, Lady (y/n)." he responded back.

You nodded you head while a wave of silence came through. He didn't talk, you didn't talk, both of you were looking at the distance of this port.

'She is rather quiet. Too quiet..." he thought in his head. Often she was the one who started up a conversation.

"I'm very sorry Duke Caius, but I must leave. I am shopping with a friend, and I wouldn't want them to keep on waiting for me, so, please excuse me."

You started walking off slowly, but then he spoke. "Would you like for me to escort you?"

You turned your head. He thought you would be smiling and agreeing to his suggestion immediately, holding his arm in a loving manner and chatting with him the entire way, like you used to do whenever he had brought out that idea.

But you had shook your head. "No, but thank you for your suggestion, Duke Caius. My guard is nearby here anyways."

You walked off as he could only look at you and your maid walking. He didn't even realize that his secretary had came back, as he only chased after you in the same direction.

He saw from a distance, you holding the arm of some man. A dull man. He was mad at that moment, but his anger wasn't towards you, it was towards the man you were with.

You had became more distant with him. Avoiding him at every moment, like he was the plague. Every time he noticed her, she had seem to always step away from him, with every step she had taken, walking away from him instead of towards him like they used to do.

At parties, you would often avoid him, while his arm was being stuck onto by Lady Thompson.

Social events had you talking to the ladies, sparring no time for him.

Outings with no small talk.

Every little thing you had done to distance yourself from him, almost drove him insane. His head now full of questions for your sudden change in personality. In the span of a few weeks, you had all of the sudden became the most formal person on earth, to the point people started questioning the legitimacy of the relationship.

"It seems like they will break up soon..."

"Are we sure they are engaged? Lady (l/n)'s sudden change in personality must mean something..."

"How sad this relationship had to come to. It feels like they are in a married’s quarrel!"

"I heard that Marquis (l/n) is planning on annulling their engagement..."

"Really?!"

These nobles and their chatty lips. These rumors meant nothing. (y/n) would never let something like an annulment happen to them.

He was bewildered. Shocked. Almost appalled with this letter.

He thought that she had delivered a letter to write to him once again, but this time, this letter was from Marquis (l/n).

Dear Duke Caius,

I regret to have informed you, that I am making a selfish and personal decision to annul this engagement between you and my daughter. I have came to this decision after her reaction and my bewilderment at the Royal Ball from 4 months ago, after you had escorted Lady Alina Thompson instead of my daughter.

I could see the heartbreak in her eyes, and as a father, it is painful to constantly see your daughter in constant heartbreak from the very boy you had known since he was young.

When your late father and I had planned this engagement for the both of you, I knew I would have to give up my precious daughter to a man I could trust, not a little boy who has yet to grown up.

You have yet to proven to me that you could be a man I could trust you with my only child, my daughter.

I wish you well and hope you will continue to collaborate and see the (l/n) house positively and as allies.

Sincerely,

Marquis (l/n)

The letter came with the annulment papers with it. He quickly looked through the papers too see your signature on them and your thumb print.

He stood quiet for a minute, before chuckling. "(y/n)...oh (y/n)..."

He felt like ripping the papers to shreds in the very moment.

You were happy for once in your life. You had met someone special to you. Arthur Johnson.

A stableman who engaged in conversation with you when he was working for your family. He always had a kind demeanor. soft spoken, and was often willing to hear you. Despite your age gap with him (being 10 years), his status as a commoner, and his rugged appearance, you felt like for the first time in your life, you had actually met your prince charming.

He took on dates to the crowded places like small festivals and the farmer markets. Your first present from him being a cheap pendent necklace from him.

His personality was well liked by everyone as he seemed to have a good relationship with everyone.

His voice was deep and attractive, smothering your ears and causing you to blush around him whenever he talked.

He always called you 'princess' or 'my lady' whenever out and about with you, causing you to be flustered at such comments.

He had introduced you to his ailing mother. You never felt so bad for anyone. You had offered to help him, but instead he rejected such offers from you. "My lady, you really don't need to help us..."

"Nonsense Arthur! Your mother is sick and-"

He always shook his head. "I do not want to rely on my lady to always help us. Thank you for the idea though."

Elliot was boring.

Gregory was pretentious.

Adonis was suspicious.

Adrian was paranoid.

But Arthur, was a gentleman.

Until you never heard back from him one day.

He had holed up in his manor until something had happened. He had gotten news of you being spotted on dates with other men.

Afterwards he had a reason to leave the manor from this point onwards. You were with a man after man often times. Talking, chatting, flirting, and being brought around with. He had his secretary look at the backgrounds of those men.

Low-ranking noblemen, and sometimes even commoners.

The perfect people to direct his anger at. After all, what are those families and people associated with them, are going to do against the wrath of Duke Caius and the Caius Duchy.

All of the sudden, these men had been riddled with debt and their families in financial ruins.

A son of a baron, tricked by a scammer he had paid for. He had fell for it, meaning he was too naive and not needed for (y/n), who was just as equally naive.

A son of a viscount, conned and arrested for the possession and the selling of forged art. The real artwork, costing millions, and in his own manor. He "might" had hired an artist to help him with it, paying off their own debt and giving them money. He was too irresponsible that he didn't even check to see if the artwork was genuine. (y/n) would had lived a life of cleaning up after him.

Another son of a baron, swallowed by loan debt after taking out loans to do his playboy schemes. He often bought expensive stuff in order to impress the women he was trying to bed with. Where did he get the loans from? He sure doesn't know, does he? He had troubles with infidelity. He will he constantly cheating on (y/n) if Alaric didn't catch it early enough.

A son of an earl, swallowed in gambling debt by him. He had seen him in the casino houses, and he thought why not taunt him. Plus, he paid off the casino house to always make him win no matter what. He was a gambling addict, spending his days holed up and gambling his money away. (y/n) would be left to die on the streets with nothing if she had been with him.

A stableman, in loan debt as well, after he had offered to help him with his ailing mother. But now his mother dead, and the loans still needed to be paid off. Otherwise, he could just kill him and sell his organs to the black market to get all the money back from him. Guess what option he did. He was poor, and poor men don't deserve her love if they cannot give her what she wanted. Plus, he might just brag often about his now, new lifestyle if she were to be with him.

The stableman was the most annoying in his eyes. His last words before he had slain him were, "Protect her for me, please, for this old bachelor..."

All of these men strengthen his point overtime. That he was the perfect man for her.

He is skeptical and less naive.

He is responsible.

He has never had issues with infidelity that he has known of.

He has never been financially irresponsible with money, nor has he gambled.

He has always had the ability to give her everything she has ever wanted.

He came to the eventual conclusion.

No man could replace him.

You felt trapped.

A rumor had spread around about Duke Caius's wedding day coming up. You thought he was just going to get married to Alina, but instead you and your father were summoned by His Majesty.

He was congratulating you and your soon to be wedding day. "Congratulations Lady (l/n)! You must be a happy bride. And you too Marquis (l/n)!"

You and your father were confused, but still acted like everything was normal, until you brought it up. "Excuse me Your Majesty, but who has told you about this. I thought I had wanted it to be a smaller event..."

His Majesty let out a gleeful laugh. "Duke Caius came to me last week, talking about how now he had decided to plan his wedding. I thought it was a splendid idea! And thus I had given him permission to use the chapel. He seemed elated at the idea, and thus was willing to plan the wedding himself."

Your eyes widen as you nodded. Your head blanking out the entire time. 'Isn't that impossible, unless...'

You went running out of the palace, finding a carriage to use to get to the Ducal Manor. You needed an explanation of what was going on.

Once you got there, you immediately asked the butler where he was, only to see Alaric, looking happy to see you as he came down the stairs to the front of the manor.

"(y/n), my bride! You are just in time for your dress fitting."

He snapped his fingers to have the servants taking you somewhere as he followed, you resisting. "Wha-? No! Alaric, I have to ask about something!"

He smiled in front of you. The previous you would had elated and been happy at his smile. But now it felt uncanny. Like something was off.

"You have finally called my name..."

You gasped as the servants kept on dragging you to your dress fitting. His hand over his heart as he looked like a sad puppy all of the sudden. "Do you know what it feels like to be called one name for my whole entire life with such endearment, only for it to be taken away?"

"No! That's why I'm not here! LET GO OF ME!"

He snapped his fingers as the servants let go of you. He walked towards you, as he placed his hand on your cheek. All you could feel was how cold it was. Like it was ice. You looked directly at him. "I am here to ask, why are we getting married?!"

His puppy face came back, as both of his hands cupped you face. "(y/n), I thought this is what you had wanted..."

Your eyes widen as he looked directly at you. "A big fairy tale wedding, your dream dress, your knight in shining armor sweeping you off your feet, true love's first kiss...isn't this what you had wanted all your life?"

This is what you had always wanted, but not like this. Not while Alaric had this sudden shift in personality and when he felt completely different form the Alaric you had knew.

But also, when your feelings for him had wavered like tides in an ocean. "But I thought the annulment had gone through..." you had said to him.

He chuckled, soon going onto full blown laughter. "(y/n), I know you still want to get married to me. So let's have the wedding of your dreams." he said while placing a kiss on your forehead, something you would had blush at, if everything about this wasn't sketchy.

"But! But!"

"No buts. We are getting married in 9 days anyways. Now, let's go to your dress fitting!"

Everything was too sketchy these past 7 days. Alaric had a sudden change in personality. An extreme one in fact. He all of the sudden became loving.

Following you everywhere.

Bringing you onto his lap while he works.

Having picnics with you.

Having tea with you.

Being your dance partner for practicing.

Locking you in his manor and giving you a splendid guest room while at it.

Coming into your room and reading you to sleep.

Increasing security around you.

Feeding you himself, personally.

Disciplining the male servants if they had touched you.

And the most weird one, not leaving your room, even while you slept.

He had changed, but for what? Now all you felt was creeped out by his sudden shift in behavior. Every single little thing done by him almost felt suffocating. Like he so desperately needed you to either be beside him or to in this manor.

You wanted to see your friends again. You wanted to talk to people again. You wanted to see your father again. You wanted to go shopping again. You wanted to see Arthur again. You wanted to do the things you did. You wanted to leave this suffocating manor for once and do something other than being restrained by him.

So you snooped. When he left, you went around his office. Previously, you had always barged into his office, always running your mouth in a tasteless way. But this time, you had avoided his office, unless he dragged you to it to be with him.

You looked around with something on your mind. "He must have the annulment papers somewhere..."

There was a family portrait of him and his father in his office. A portrait must mean that there's something behind it. Touching the frame, you opened up a secret compartment that was full of bank statements. "Elliot Lancaster, Gregory McClain, Adonis Lovesett, Adrian Hill, Arthur Johnson..."

All the men you had been with. The bank statements had shown how their wallets had gone empty in the span of a week or two.

Elliot and his family had gone bankrupt and sent to an island in the north.

Gregory had been charged with forgery and sentenced to 3 years in prison.

Adonis had been bankrupt and charged with assault against a Marquis for mingling with his wife.

Adrian had been cut off from his family due to his gambling addiction, and has now gone further in debt.

And Arthur. The nice man Arthur. His body was never founded when his mother reported him as missing.

Your eyes widened in horror as you looked at the other pages. He had planned it. From the financial debt to killing Arthur and selling his body parts on the black market. Each paper described the reports of the deeds he had done.

Especially for Arthur. His was the most gruesome one. Chopping him up into bits and selling his innards to the black market while dumping the rest to the ocean on Beckett's Beach, where you took your first date with him.

You couldn't help but squat out of fear immediately. Were you responsible for all of these mens' demise?

Would Elliot and his family still be living in the capital in peace if he never met you?

Would Gregory go back to being his artistic and art loving self if he didn't buy from that one painter you had told him to buy from?

Adonis was already kinda shitty.

Would Adrian change if you had stayed with him?

Would Arthur still be alive if you never noticed him?

You didn't know, and that's when you started crying. Your tears fell down rapidly like waterfalls. The papers, the bank statements, the pieces of news, the reports, all of them now wet with your tears on the paper. You couldn't help but feel for them, especially Arthur.

Arthur was now dead, and his mother soon meeting him.

And it felt like it was all your fault.

"We'll always be together, my lady, this old stableman promises."

Crying alone in Alaric's study, you thought about the moments you had with Arthur. They were all going to be a faded memory of the past. If only you weren't so naive and if only you knew.

"Why is my bride crying?"

Your head turned to see Alaric at the door of his study. You gulped as you got up, dusting your dress while at it. "I-it's nothing, Alaric..." you stuttered, trying to hold back your tears.

He came close towards you as he looked at all the papers on the ground and the portrait, open. He chuckled for a bit. "Did you read these?"

You shook your your head. "I just...found them, that’s all. I swear I didn't read them!"

He looked at the papers, then at you. You could tell he knew that you were lying. He always said you were an open book and how you wore your heart on your sleeve. "Don't bother lying (y/n)."

He pointed to the part on which you had stained with your tears. The paper transparent as he put the papers down on his desk, walking closer to you. Each step growing closer, each step he took feeling like he was mad. Each step felt like an eventual punishment for your actions. "Why were you snooping around in my office, (y/n)?"

You answered with the first thing on your mind. "B-because! I just...w-wanted to l-look around, Y-your Grace..."

"I told you..." He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "Call my Alaric once agin, (y/n)."

His words laced with anger. He was speaking almost like he was threatening you. He looked at the pendent around your neck. Almost like he never noticed it before. Taking the pendent in his fingers, he looked at it obsessively. "Who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"

You gulped instead of speaking. His hands felt cold when he touched your cheek, looking at you with his angry eyes. "I said, who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"

"A-Arthur..." you mumbled.

"Who?"

"ARTHUR!" you said even louder before he started laughing hysterically.

"That peasant? Why bother keeping something cheap around your neck. I thought you hated these things?"

You used to, but now this necklace represented Arthur. "I-it's none of your b-business, Alaric!" you yelled out.

"It is my business. Considering you are to be my wife soon, something like this is unacceptable for a Duchess..."

He slowly got closer to your ear. "Especially if it came out that a peasant gave you such a thing...I wonder what would happen to your father...for allowing you to be romantically involved with a man of dirty origins..."

Your eyes widen. "Arthur isn't like that! You don't know him!"

You tried to walk out, only for Alaric to hug you from behind, holding you in a tight grip. You felt like you were losing air by the second once he held onto you. "He's never told you? His mother was apart of a brothel..."

You breath stopped as he whispered more into your ear. "He was the illegitimate son of a noble...people like that deserve to be killed for grasping an ounce of your attention..."

You tried to get out of his grip, but instead he had ripped off the necklace on your neck, letting it fall onto the floor and walking off to his desk, letting you go. You cried as you turned back to look at him. "You-you monster!"

He opened a velvet box with a diamond and sapphire necklace, placing it around your neck, smiling. "My beautiful (y/n)..."

He gripped you arms tight, dragging you to the mirror in the study while putting the necklace together, smiling.

"We will be together forever and this necklace, is to symbolize your new life as Duchess."

You only looked at yourself wearing the necklace as Alaric's hands kept you still.

"You can never leave me now..." he said, as he kissed your cheek.

You in your wedding dress as he went out into the hall.

Walking down the aisle with your father.

The flower petals dancing around you.

The songbirds singing their songs.

And your once dream husband at the alter.

"Do you take Duke Caius's hand, in sickness and in health, in wealth and or none, in forever lasting love?

"...I do..."

The final words of your previous life.

A/N: A part 3 for married life or not?

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[cupidlovesastro]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 #𝟏𝟕(𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬)⋆˚✿˖°

disclaimer: please don’t take this personally, this is just my opinion of placements i find hard to deal with not only astrology wise, but also based on real life observations and experiences i’ve had or witnessed

🍨other post you may enjoy🥠

astrology observations #16 (child of the sun)

astrology observations #15 (hippie edition)

astrology observations #14 (real life experiences)

7h chiron- they seem to that the worse and most toxic relationship i’ve ever seen. and honestly from what i’ve seen, they are usually the victim of the relationship. they do grow a lot as a person from this but the damage is a lot

gemini placements paired with pisces placements- this mainly applies to sun, moon, and mercury, but they can be incredibly manipulative, to the point they believe their own lies. they also have a tendency to lie for no particular reason

1h/7h/5h pluto- they end up attracting people who are insanely obsessive or crazy over them. like to the point it’s unhealthy. people are also oddly possessive of them too, and they can easily be objectified by others

mars opposite or square venus- there’s an imbalance of feminine and masculine energy. although with square there can be a compromising or “agree to disagree energy”, with opposite, this is constant push and pull between the energies which can cause inner turmoil

moon opposite venus- in men this makes someone who’s misogynistic. there’s a lack of understanding for feminine energy and a lot of, blaming women for things. also a lot of toxic masculinity, and not wanting to be vulnerable. in women this can show being uncomfortable with your femininity and not being able to express it

any planet being aspected 5 or more times- this is especially important for moon, mars, and sun in my opinion. this can cause so many different conflicting energies for that planet or planets. there can be a lack of understanding for that planet as well and having a hard time relating to that planet since it’s aspected so much

taurus moon- i actually enjoy taurus energy, but taurus moon can definitely be difficult. they tend to dwell in their emotions for long periods of time and have a hard time getting over things. they can also tend to isolate their self

10h/4h uranus- inconsistent parental figures. possibly ones that came in and out your life without any warning or particular reason. they were unpredictable and you could never tell what their next move was. although they may have been very smart and taught you a lot, they weren’t very physically present, and if they were, they weren’t emotionally present

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC Prompt Idea: Dangerous

Cassandra's main thing is being able to read and understand body language. Yeah, to a degree all of the Bats possess this skill but Cassandra takes it to a whole new level. Nobody is better at it than she is.

In a way she sometimes reminded herself of a machine the way the information filtered into her brain. The way it categorized each and every person she came across. On the street, in her house, even in the mirror. Everybody had something.

So to come across a person who outwardly looked normal on the outside that she couldn't read she didn't understand. Yes, he has data but the data isn't making any sense!

He's just sitting there texting on his phone, chuckling harmlessly.

Yet every instinct in her body and everything 'harmless' that he was doing was a red flag. It was strange and wrong. But the biggest problem is that she couldn't even identify what about him was so dangerous.

Texting Somebody: Dangerous.

Laughing: Dangerous.

Relaxed Posture: Dangerous.

He wasn't even looking around! He was completely drawn in by whatever was on his phone, having absolutely no care in the world as the bus continued and this kid - who was probably no older than 14 - was just texting away.

It wasn't until the bus suddenly screeched to a halt and the doors were smashed open by some low legal thugs that those signals made sense. They made sense because while everybody else complied with the commands of the men - even Cassandra who might have alerted Oracle before she got to her knees on the floor.

Yet this kid stayed in one place.

"Didn't you hear what I said, kid!? Get on the damn floor!"

The kid didn't even look up before he reacted.

The once non-existent tension in his body changed with no outward sign as he shoved himself forward, shoving the barrel of the gun upwards before punching the man in the jaw so hard that Cass heard it snap out of place as he was thrown backwards against a bar in the bus aisle and dented it. The other two men who were in on the attack were caught off guard as this kid flipped the safety on the gun locking it and in the same fluid motion threw the gun at one of the men, smacking him square in the forehead.

Cassandra was still wrapping her mind around this reckless action before the kid pulled another, rushing towards the final man, grabbing another one of the aisle bars and swinging himself, kicking him in the chest and knocking him right back out the door they'd entered through. The gun went off as it was dropped, but all three men were disarmed and the kid picked up the guns. Dropped the clips into his hand, emptied the chamber then discarded them on one side of the bus before he simply tossed the clips out the nearest window, the clips slipping directly into a drain without any bit of aim.

"What the hell are you, kid?" Groaned the first man, "A bat?"

"Bat? No way, man. Anyways, thanks for the lift Mr. Bus Driver." The kid then promptly walked out of the door, jumped over the man on the ground and made his way down the street.

Cass couldn't wrap her mind what just happened but she understood the warnings.

That kid was dangerous.

She had to get him on the team.