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₊⊹ riding bf!connie on a jet ski in the middle of the ocean
warm sunrays hit the curve of your back as you drop your hips- rotating them to revel in his lap.
“there you go, mama…take it all. s’your dick��
connie’s digits press into the fat of your hips, dragging you down on his thick length.
squelch- a particularly hard thrust has your thighs pressed against his burly ones. connie’s merciless; holding you down until your release glistens down the sides of where you two meet.
“to-too deep, con- fuck. swear i can feel you in my guts”, the untied string of your bikini bottom sagged off the shelf of your ass. the soles of your feet ache on either sides of the footwells, taking as much of his mean strokes as your environment allowed.
a soft snicker falls from connie’s straight lips. he’s basking in how disheveled he’s got you. a hard smack found your backside, connie’s pelvis juts upwards to remind you where you are. this was a token of appreciation as he’d flown you out to the sunny tropics.
the deeper he digs into you, the lazier your body becomes. more or less cockwarming connie to catch a breath. a soft tsk of discontent rolling off of your man’s tongue as he’d been mockingly buried in your tightness.
several seconds later you’re forced off of his dick with a wet -plop-. a mixture of your juices spilled out of you as connie turned you to face the jet ski’s handles.
“hold on to ‘em,” you do just as the raspy voice urged. connie wastes no time pressing his tip past the glistening threshold of your puffy folds. now he has the upper hand- a gorgeous view of the ink that ran down your spine.
the two of you meet with each lewd thrust, connie’s head falling back at the sight of your fat ass rippling like the soft waves that surround you.
“i know….know it feels good, ma. messin’ up these people seat”, the steering console pressed deeper into your chest, as you’re no longer the one in control. his eyes fixated on the ring of opaque cream at the base of his dick. your essence runs down to his heavy balls, the wet sounds travel out to the middle of nowhere.
connie stood to chant breathless whispers in your ear. backshots becoming sloppier and slower as he neared his release.
“Ah-! ‘m…gonna make me cum again!”, the force of your orgasm pushes connie out, his broad arm reaching around to rub circles into your clit. “who needs a beach…when i got my personal soaker right here,” he breathlessly snickered, watching as this motion prolongs your wet, gut-wrenching climax. shortly afterwards white ropes splatter over your asscrack, followed by the sounds of connie’s deep rumbles.
#6slux#aot x reader#smut#aot#aot connie#black writers#black reader#connie springer#minors dni#first post#connie x reader#connie x black reader#connie x black y/n#attack on titan
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✰ 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦.
✰ 1 / 02 / 03 / series m list.
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tags: bestfriendsboyfriend!jungkook, boxer!jungkook, cheater!jungkook (not on oc) , making out, grinding, mini tit play, oc is a piece of shit, sneaking around
note from cherry: shameless one is here!! debuting a morally grey (fucked up) lil three shot. yay!! Lmk what u think >_<
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
The grey, cloudy storm outside knocks on your window rather gently, brushes against the glass with it´s windy strokes as if asking to be let in rather than commanding you to. But you knew Jungkook wasn´t really asking.
"Hey doll" the sleezy smile spreads across his features quickly, his scratched up, tattooed hand wraps around the window seal while he kicks his legs over, invites the rain in briefly. The sliding window shuts closed behind him- shakes off the wetness from his leather jacket, runs a hand through his damp mullet.
"You look beat up, what happend?" he hums briefly, letting your exposed arms sneak around his neck while he find the familiar spot on your waist- he shouldn´t know that that´s where you like to be held. Does nonetheless, rubs his rough palms under the flimsy material of your cami.
"Street fight, coach said i shouldn´t but the bastard was asking for it" he lowly murmurs against your lips, unable to resist their proximity anytime he crosses boundaries again. Instinctively leaning down to meet you, splatter ink on to your skin that you would have to spend hours scrubbing off of every patch on your body he´d touch- everywhere, only to still linger around with his cologne.
He brushes his busted lip against your own plump, soft ones- vanilla, your usual lip balm that´s kept on at all times. Even on mundane days where the thrill of his presence lies low.
"Want me to patch you up?" your words fan against his small wound, breathe the hot air, thus the life, back into him like you always do. Like you´ve grown to do in the reflection of broken vows and in corners you should not be lurking in.
"Hmm, missed you" Jungkook grins, feeling your own smile creep up into your lips, invading that slight scowl you worse tentatively. Outside becomes louder, drags the trees against your window now, but you can´t hear it, not against your heart pounding in your eardrums, not when you try to ignore the guilt that bubbles up every time his lips hungrily meet yours. Clash, collide, collapse.
You moan at the wet sensation of his mouth trailing down your neck, he blindly finds your sweet spot and you let out his favorite sigh, tangle your fingertips into his midnight hair and tug on it near his roots. He matches the sound, groans and embeds himself deeper into your delicate skin.
You smell like his favorite too, cotton, a hint of lavender. He had always despised strong floral scents, especially artificial ones. They make his head hurt and his nose burn, he´d say.
Your breeze of lavender kisses his senses as much as it devours him whole. He indulges in it, drinks every drop, tongue darting along your skin to feel it rise, feel how you shiver through his open mouthed, hot kisses.
"Come on, let me clean you up baby" you speak through breathy moans, gliding your finger along his jaw, he whines; then chuckles "Fine"
"This is so unnecessary doll" his teeth chew down on his pillowed bottom lip, oozing out more red liquid - you wipe it again, scoffing "Well stop getting into street fights. Turn left" you nudge his chin, inspecting the dirty scratch on his cheek- shake your head as you bring the disinfectant to the cut up skin. Jungkook tries his best not to wince at the sting, but you see right through him, his eyes scrunch up briefly "Such a baby"
"You just need an excuse to sit on my lap don´t you?" the flat tip of his nose nudges yours, pokes little holes into your annoyed facade, he throws your other thigh over his hip aswell- planting you to straddle his larger frame. You proudly nod, shimmy his leather jacket off his shoulders and let him find his rightful place around your waist again. He massages the flesh carefully, taking his silver lip ring between his teeth while you apply the last little bandaid just above his eyebrow piercing.
The storm roars now, banging against your windows, breaking through to be acknowledged. But you´re oblivious. Focused on the routine like feel of Jungkook´s hands sliding up your cami to cup your breasts, he gropes the soft swells, brings his head forward to tug down the lace with his mouth, "So cute" he mumbles, runs his tongue flat over your hardened pebble. The neglected, bruised knuckles of his caress you with airy adoration that don´t seem to match their broken exterior, bled through, vulnerable. Contrary, they´re feather light, guarded. Almost, as if he´s still afraid to go too far. His cock strains at the memory of being nestled inside of your cunt.
"Kook.. she´ll be here soon you know" the sentence floods his mouth, invading your sweetness with bitter aftertastes- he´s aware that he can´t fully enjoy you without it stringing along, but he likes to pretend in these moments, that it´s just the taste of sweat, part of your giving body that he claims with vile breaths. Inhales, swallows.
Your airy noises of enjoyment deafen him, edge his tongue to swipe across the skin of your chest and make his palms itch to grind you against his clothed cock, run your throbbing, wet core over he bulge to create electricity throughout his system, strain his throat with gutteral groans only a equally hungry man would understand.
"Just a little, missed you all week" it echos through your made empty head, fills up your every cell with lust for something in your possession, inside of a grasp you dug your claws in, fitting in holes that aren´t yours- molds you never made, though you seem to fill them out better than their originator. You sneak your way down his body, work to zip open his heavy jeans while he´s long gone in pulling down your little sweatpants- sighs at the view of pink undies covering your pussy.
"Did you know i was coming?" he jokes, engulfs your hips into his hold and stutters out a curse at collision, "No, but I was hoping"
Every ragged, filthy drag of your panty clad core to his messily pulled out, thick cock feels like a hit of gratification, he glistens with the cover of your sins and swells at the fat tip every time you rub your needy clit against it, digs deeper into you.
His solid muscles flex under the touch of your eager hands, it burns on the surface of his skin and Jungkook wastes a thought on wishing it wouldn´t show when he faced the mirror later. Invisibly ruined by your fingerprints, committed to his pleasure once his hand wraps around his cock in solitude- even when he tries to wash off your remains, the chamber of his mind found it´s way back. In horror, his heart always pumped his blood in the route to where you tainted him.
"M´close" you whisper ravishing his jaw with your dainty kisses that don´t mirror an ounce of the true need coursing through you, you weren´t allowed to bruise his skin more than you had already done so in the secrecy of your affair, a single visible mark and it would be over. It can however, not be over, not yet, or so he thinks even when his milky cum splurts on his stomach, paints the sensitive flesh of your cunt as you lazily drag over it. Let out little whimpers that make his chest clench with ownership.
The fever dies out into a candle, he smiles, presses a kiss to your nose "We should be quick baby"
Fast enough to make it seem natural when he just undoes his no longer wet jacket at the front door while it rings expectedly,
"Hey- oh baby, you´re here already?" she chimes, turns the corners of her lips up in excitement
You watch as your best friend leans in, kisses his cheek on the side he´s been patched up on, "Yeah, came here just now, had to get fixed up first"
"What happend?" you hold back the answer that prudes the tip of your tongue, glance at his loose hold on her hips and briefly allow yourself to proudly smile, just before you recoil in shame.
"Street fight, all good"
The rain trickles down her wet hair, pools down at the floor but calms down significantly on the other side of your four walls, sings against the heavy curtains, asks you to forget.
"You smell so good" Jungkook tells her, letting the words intoxicate her innocent head with lovesickness, but his eyes dull with boredom even when she beams, he´s good at lying you´ve learned- even burries his nose into her hair.
"Thank you babe. Gucci flora, got it just the other day"
It takes a bit not to chuckle, stepping behind her back to carefully send him a knowing smile before you turn around- walk back up to your room and leave the lovers in their confined, rightful space.
#redcherrykook#jeon jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook smut#jungkook x you#jungkook bts#bts fic#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook fanfic
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your star next to mine
nobody loves the earth for spinning, not really. it's been turning for 4.6 billion years with no applause. the sun rises then sets, and the moon follows suit. the stars flicker in their wake and the earth spins regardless. spencer thinks you’re more than the sun, moon, and stars combined.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)
genre: fluff
content: established relationshippp ugh waking up to spencer reid <3 actually more like spencer reid waking up to bau!reader (spoiler: hes out of this world in love with her)
word count: 1k
note: writing this made me SICKKKK with longing and yearning (they r so in love and i hate them for it ugh) sorry sorry writing ab stars and spencer reid in bed AGAIN im sorry i just want to romanticise small moments in life (theyre coming for me with a strait jacket as we speak)
a line: It’s hard to tell where you end and where he begins—Spencer hopes he never has to find out.
When The Big met The Bang and science happened before eyes that did not exist yet, collided and made love to each other was your star next to mine? Tell me, my love; did someone ever wish upon the star we are made from? - m. chase
There are roughly 7100 languages spoken and signed on earth. Spencer himself is familiar with at least seven of them. Russian, Latin, Middle English, to name a few. You remember him explaining the intricacies of medieval typography during your third date—You think you fell in love with him somewhere between his comparison of Gothic and Carolingian scripts.
Before there were text messages made up of abbreviations and emojis, there were letters. Love letters of thoughts born from lovelorn minds that made their way into granite, pressed against the grain of paper. Before that, feathered quills dipped in ink, sometimes splattering on parchment. A testament to words too heavy to get out right, but a need to get them out all the same.
But the earth has been spinning for 4.6 billion years. And before that, there were cavemen that carved primitive symbols into stone—etches and notches that archaeologists still devote their lives to deciphering. Spencer sometimes thinks that had he not joined the FBI, he might’ve found himself in their shoes, decoding ancient scribbles, a circle with four notches, stick figures huddling around it.
Now, he thinks, there’s not much left to figure out after all.
You turn in your sleep, hand searching for him in the mess of sheets. No words needed. I missed you, even in sleep. I miss you. Spencer shuffles a little closer to appease you, the small crease in your brow softens, almost vanishes, content when you find the curve of his hip. When Spencer places his hand over waist, he knows you know what he’s saying. I missed you too. I miss you, even in sleep.
Your hand shifts to accommodate his, intertwining with his in a way that makes his chest squeeze. It’s a dance you’ve both perfected, your fingers settling into the spaces between his. His hands are far from soft. The callus on his left palm is rough and worn, a result of years in the field with his gun. Yours aren’t perfect either—nails a little less neat than you'd like, a few nicks from the hurried days of recent weeks. His thumb traces the back of your hand. You give a small squeeze in return. And then two more. It’s instinctual—fingers find fingers. Spencer gives three squeezes back.
But then your hand pushes past his, brushing lightly over the scab on the small of his back—A close call with a bullet during last week’s case. Even in sleep, you frown at the reminder. Not a big deal, baby, he’d winced through the burning pain in an effort to reassure you. You’d cried anyway. Later, you’d marched straight to Hotch, demanding better bulletproof vests—I don’t care if they have a bigger budget, I want the kind they use down in D.C.
Spencer gently takes your hand and places it on his chest. The tension in your brow visibly eases. For a moment, it rests there, still and quiet, before it stirs again, sleepily travelling up to settle on the curve of his neck. The birthmark on your shoulder makes a quiet appearance when his shirt slides off you a little. A lover’s kiss from a past life. Spencer hopes it was him in your life before this. And the one before that. And all the other ones before that.
He breathes you in as you nuzzle into his neck, the motion guided by how tightly he pulls you to him. The only thing he loves more than falling asleep to you is waking up to you. It’s hard to tell where you end and where he begins—Spencer hopes he never has to find out. You pull back slightly humming lightly into his skin, a good morning before the good morning. A hi again, i’m glad it’s you i’m waking up to.
The strands of hair falling into your face can’t hide the explosion of color in your eyes when they sleepily blink open. Once, then twice, before you’re closing them again—It’s woefully insufficient. Spencer thinks of how constellations were once used for navigation. They guided sailors across vast oceans, helping them find their way home.
Then you’re leaning in to kiss him, eyes still closed. When the big met the bang all those years ago. His hand moves from your waist, tracing the curve of your spine, down your arm, and back up. You catch his bottom lip lightly between your teeth and Spencer sees stars. He thinks it’s a wonder you still have this effect on him after 439 days—206 of those being nights spent together. His fingers graze along your jaw before resting gently on your lips. A journey from waist to lips—one Spencer would gladly make a thousand times and more.
As someone with a PhD in Mathematics and who prides himself in his comprehension of logic and reason, Spencer knows infinity is an abstract idea. It’s an unreachable concept through mere arithmetic. But for you, he’d solve for it a million times over just so he doesn’t have to spend a single day without you. Honest to god, he doesn’t think he can. Truthfully, he doesn’t know how he’s managed to go so long without you in the first place.
When you pull away breathless, grinning, it’s almost a little wicked. You're definitely fully awake now. Cheeks flushed, lips red and rosy and you’re both leaning in again.
No words said. Lips to lips. A universal love letter through the ages. Pieces of parchment, folded and sealed, wax stamps guarding tenderness in ink. Hairs tucked inside lockets. Pictures in weathered wallets. From the sea to the shore, from the granite to the quills, from the stone to the paper. No words needed.
Nobody loves the Earth for spinning, not really. It's been turning for 4.6 billion years with no applause. The sun rises then sets, and the moon follows suit. The stars flicker in their wake and the earth spins regardless. Spencer thinks you’re more than the sun, moon, and stars combined.
There’s nothing else to decipher. A fact, pure and simple. An absolute consistency through and through.
Lips to lips, over and over. The big meets the bang, again and again. I love you, I love you, I love you.
⋆✴︎˚。⋆ hi if you're here! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments or reblogs are very much appreciated!
ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: sidelines by phoebe bridgers sailor song by gigi perez
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x bau!reader
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Make Them Blue (Sam x GFReader) *Blurb*
Summary: It’s No Nut November and your boyfriend was not only dumb enough to get roped into participating in the challenge. He also stupidly decided to throw a belated Halloween party over the weekend…where you just so happen to bust out that sexy, little succubus outfit he’s been begging you for.
Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut. Slightly rough smex, cranky/pent up emo boy, slightly blue balls, and…Sam’s chubby, pierced dick.
Notes: Happy No Nut November all you, lovelies! 🤍💙
- “Just had to wear this fucking costume…” Burying his face into your neck, nipping and sucking at your hickey-riddled skin. Teeth tug at your cute, leather choker…roughly. Probably trying to snap it in a form of revenge; like the salty, little brat he is. “Couldn’t of been like a stupid pumpkin or something else…”
- Thrusting hard, you let out a shrill cry. The sound bouncing off, echoing through the cramped closet. Making your ears ring, heart leap into your throat. Hoping that it was muffled or at least covered up by the loud, thumping outside the slatted door. “I’m sorry, Sammy! I-”
- “Shut up!” Plunging deeper; his long length fills, stuffs you. Thick base stretching out your poor, little cunny. Gummy walls burning from the drag, puffy folds from the pleasurable ache. “Ain’t talking your way out of this one!”
- Bucking up wildly, his sinewy hips ram into yours. “Th-Thought you’d like it!” Fat tip bullying, that stud of his brushing and scarping maddingly against your cervix. With each sloppy, uncontrolled drive. Forcing a string of pathetic whimpers and babbles to fall from your crimson painted lips. “Said you al-always wanted to see m-me dressed-”
- “I don’t care!” Inked hands grope hungrily at your plush curves; squeezing, kneading them. Chipped black nails sinking in, tarnished rings leaving shallow indents in your supple flesh. “Making me lose the damn bet!”
- Landing a solid smack on one of your handles, snapping a studded strap on the other. Cause your body to ripples, tits jiggle. High pitched squeal escaping you from the sting. “Now you’re gonna get it!”
- Nimble fingers grip your soft waist tightly, lifting you high enough. For only his chubby head to stay wedged inside your trembling warmth… “Take it!” …before shoving you back down.
- Holding onto firmly, moving you as he liked…what suits his needs. “Let me use this pussy as a fucking cocksleeve!” Forcing you to mewl and whine at his strong strokes, brutal pace.
- “Til my balls are dry!” Slamming you roughly one last time, sheathing himself completely. Hot spurts of cum flood, coat…paint your gummy walls white. Small paunch bulges slightly from his pent up load.
- Crashing your lips, tongues tangling together in a messy kiss. Barely softening before starting to pump in and out again. Sticky seed trickling out from your abused hole, from around his cock. Splattering onto Sam’s forgotten ghostly mask, your impish wings.
Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @jediavengers, @jameskellysgirl, @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo, @laoif, @xhunnybeeex, @morganellison2007, @vaderswifey, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @fuckmyskywalker, @these-travels, @valyna27, @shadowycollectionpuppy-blr-blog, @paechyx, @bimbo-doll1206, @supernatural-lover, @bigaoibhe2024, @kllyslutz, @og-baby-ob14, @piastricentric, @elcaballerodragon, @byunnue, @doesntmattert, @soooooohyuk, @sassyenthusiastfart, @gaynslay, @abbygailparish08, @caro-pozos02, @marauder2sstuff, @cjlovesreadingxx, @ala2ilas-s, @rhiluvzani, @cocobear18, @pumpkinpiefilling, @polly-xo, @neymvrz, @jennasco, @lotte08, @roryheartz, @ahszcoven, @mrschristensen13,
@littlelamy, @khoatic-with-no-energy, @raiwpenl, @malinadbbdh, @strokingforyou26, @xspacexwitchx, @em-21, @hearts4sammonroe, @shouldbetakencareof2, @loxbbg, @supersoldatbarnesstuff, @thesilentreaderrrrr, @theoriginalsinner28, @dumb-slut-things, @indigoblues1207, @ald6518, @julxstrawberry, @nevaehthecreator1, @wh0sl0ttie, @tojis-missing-arm
#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen smut#anakin skywalker#anakin#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#star wars anakin#sw anakin#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin fanfiction#anakin smut#star wars#star wars prequels#star wars fanfiction#star wars smut#sam monroe#sam monroe x reader#sam monroe fanfiction#sam monroe smut#sam monroe life as a house#life as a house#life as a house fanfiction#life as a house smut#make them blue#make them blue 2024#no nut november#no nut november 2024
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🖤 ₊˚⊹ — make up
parring ➵ draco malfoy x m!reader
summary ➵ you like to fuck with him, just to make up with him.
warnings ➵ slight suggestive language/content!
age parring ➵ 17 - 18
extra ➵ slytherin & dominate reader. credits to @cafekitsune for banners!


many peers from any house can presume that your relationship with malfoy was endearing. unexpected definitely, but truely endearing.
dating draco was a bit difficult, he is arrogant, stubborn, has an extremely high ego, one prejudiced son of a bitch, and he constantly refuses to be manhandled in front of his fellow slytherins’.
one particular day, you had just entered the familiar common room after a long day of studying for a upcoming exam coming up later that same week.
you had also made the trip for another reason other than to study, to get your mind of your brat of a boyfriend.
but we aren’t gonna tell him are we?
you entered slumping on a arm chair, pulling our parchment after parchment of notes splattered with jet black ink.
around this time of the year, the common room being not full was expected due to exams.
you sighed and rested your chin on top of your hand. draco locking eyes with you as he came up to you.
❝ hey (l/n) ❞ he whispered as he sat his pretty little self on top of the arm rest.
you only looked up at him and raised your eyebrows as you got back to reviewing your work.
he began blabbing about harry potter, as usual. that would’ve never gotten you bothered but it was almost as if he was more interested and concerned about him more than his own boyfriend.
you groaned, proving that you weren’t listening to him.
❝ hey, what in merlin’s name is wrong with you? ❞
you scoffed as you discarded your parchments and dragged him down onto your lap, wrapping your arm around his waist. he yelped in looked around the room in habit.
❝ you constantly talk about harry, it pisses me off draco. ❞
he gulped, eyebrows furrowed, and looking down at your lips moving as you had more to say.
❝ besides you did the thing, where you check to see if anyone is around when i try to be affectionate with you! ❞
you began scolding him, he tried touching you to see if that were to able to calm you down. to no avail.
you snatched his wrist before he can touch your face.
❝look at you now, all hot and bothered.❞ you smirked as he huffed and tried to get off you.
that resulted in you propping him up, holding him up with you hands on his ass.
❝ h-huh? ❞ he gasped in response, wrapping his legs around your waist. also holding you tightly around your neck not wanting to embarrass himself anymore longer.
❝ stop it, your being annoying right now! ❞ he yelped out in a whine.
❝ draco’s so cute when he’s angry isn’t he? ❞ you teased him as you made it to your dorm dropping him into your bed getting on top of him in the process.
❝ stop it now! ❞ he growls.
you yanked on his blonde locks, forcing him to face you and you began.
❝ stop mentioning potter like he is your boyfriend you bitch boy malfoy. ❞ you scoffed at him, using his surname for extra measure.
his gaze softened as he looked up at you lips trembling, nodding profusely not wanting to anger you anymore.
❝ mhm! ❞ he whimpers, expressing his discomfort with your hair pulling.
you let go and grab his chin, adoring the cute little features draco was blessed with.
❝ you’re gorgeous yknow that? ❞ you smile at his watering eyes.
you turn him over, now him on top of you, your hand roaming under his robes.
you grabbed his chin with your other free hand and kissed him. draco melted.
he leaned forward accepting the kiss, heat rushing down his cheeks. your chests pressed together.
you only escalated by placing your hands on his ass, as you groped them.
let’s just say he never brought up the chosen one again.
୨⎯ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡 ⎯୧
#harry potter#harry potter x male reader#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x male reader#m!reader#male reader#dom male reader#sub male character#sub draco malfoy#leighbaylee#minaleigh
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SCENE︰EMO ID PACK
NAMES︰ acid. adder. adrian. aisling. alex. alice. alix. amethyst. annabelle. aqua. ash. ashlee. ashley. aspen. astley. avril. awe. axe. ayesha. bates. bell. bella. belladonna. bellatrix. billy. blade. blair. blitz. bloodie. bloodscene. blythe. bow. bree. butterfly. callie. candi. candy. celeste. chase. checkerz. clarity. click. coraline. couture. crow. cyril. cyrus. dakota. demi. demonia. devin. dino. dizzy. doge. dom. dominic. ebony. electra. elliot. emery. emmett. emo. epic. erin. evan. flash. fred. galaxy. gavin. gerard. ghostie. gif. gloom. gray. grayson. grim. gutz. happy. havoc. hazel. heyley. hunter. hyde. indigo. ink. iris. ivory. ivy. jack. jade. jason. jasper. jax. jeff. jet. jett. julie. kai kandi. kandiz. kat. kayden. killer. kit. kitt. kobi. kyler. lady. lapis. lee. lexie. liam. luna. lurk. lynx. lyric. lyxzen. mace. maddox. madeline. mae. malice. marceline. marcie. mars. mavis. meow. mia. midnight. mika. mill. nana. neo. net. nick. nina. noah. noob. nora. nyan. nyx. obscene. octavia. olivia. onix. onyx. opal. orange. orchid. pearl. phantom. phoenix. pierce, pierce. pitch. pixie. pop. punk. pusheen. rain. rainbow. raine. rainer. rave. raven. raver. rawr. razorz. reaper. ripley. river. rogue. ronnie. rose. rouge. roux. rubi. ruby ruby. sable. salem. sally. sapphire. sash. sasha. scythe. silvi. silvia. smiley. smoke. smokey. snap. snow. sonya. soot. sparrow. spike. splatter. spook. stella. steve. stripe. sunny. suzi. suzie. suzy. taffi. taffy. tag. tech. tempest. travis. trend. tyler. vesper. vine. vista. vivi. waffle. wave. web. wentz. wesley. wild. willow. wound. xander. z!m. zach. zack. zade. zaire. zak. zander. zara. zero. ziggy. zim. zircon. zoe. zoom. zyair.
PRONOUNS︰ awesome/awesome. ay/aym. bark/bark. bi/bim. bite/bite. black/black. bling/blingee. blood/blood. bone/bone. bow/bow. brace/bracelet. bright/bright. bright/colour. byte/byte. cat/cat. cata/catatonic. ce/cer. check/checkered. chem/chem. cir/circut. color/color. computer/computer. cool/cool. cos/cos. creepy/pasta. cringe/cringe. cry/cry. cut/cut. dead/dead. death/death. die/die. dino/dino. emo/emo. emoticon/emoticon. epic/epic. ev/ev. exe/exe. ey/em. eye/strain. fang/fang. fringe/fringe. game/game. gamer/gamer. ghost/ghost. gir/gir. girr/girr. glit/glitter. glitter/glitter. gloom/gloom. glow/glow. glow/stick. gore/gore. grr/grr. gun/gun. gut/gut. hor/horror. hx/hxm. hyper/hyper. hyperpop/hyperpop. internet/internet. it/it. ix/ix. kan/kandi. kand/kandi. kandi/kandi. kill/kill. kit/kit. knife/knife. lix/lix. loud/loud. luv/luv. mask/mask. meme/meme. meow/meow. mew/mew. mlp/mlp. mon/monster. mspaint/mspaint. music/music. neo/neon. neon/neon. net/net. nostalgia/nostalgia. nya/nya. nya/nyan. nyan/cat. old/old. online/online. pika/pikachu. pix/pix. pixel/pixel. plur/plur. pony/pony. pop/pop. pop/tart. queen/queen. quiet/quiet. rain/rain. rainbow/rainbow. random/random. rave/rave. rawr/rawr. raz/razor. red/red. rei/reina. scene/scene. scene/scenester. scenecore/scenecore. scream/scream. shx/hxr. si/silent. silly/silly. skull/skull. slash/slash. slice/slice. sound/sound. spi/spider. spook/spook. stab/stab. stick/sticker. sticker/sticker. stud/stud. swag/swags/swagself. thxy/thxm. troll/troll. tutu/tutu. txt/txt. vamp/vamp. video/game. virtual/virtual. vocaloid/vocaloid. web/web. windows/window. xe/xem. xey/xem. xy/xyr. youtube/youtube. ze/zem. ze/zer. ze/zero. zi/zim. zim/zim. zom/zombie. zomb/zomb.
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Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 17/?)
Promises are easy to make, keeping them is difficult. Do not swear loyalty, do not offer redemption—do not promise what you cannot keep.
Silco x fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)
Word Count: 7,4K
Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, oral sex (m!receiving), deep throat, a little bit of female domination, cowgirl position, unprotected sex, morning sex, suicide (but it will make sense I swear), mild anxiety attacks, Silco POV
Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.
Part 16
Deep, velvety petals curled into themselves in perfect, unnatural symmetry, so dark they almost absorbed the light around them. You held the flower delicately by its stem, turning it slightly between your fingers, studying the peculiar specimen. It wasn't common—black roses didn't exist. And yet, here it was, its petals an abyss of ink, velvety and impossibly dark. But it only lasted a moment in your grasp.
Before you could truly take it in, the rose crumbled into nothing.
Ash.
It slipped through your fingers like sand, dissipating into the air as though it had never existed in the first place. A cold chill crawled up your spine, tightening around the base of your neck. The air in the room shifted, thick with something unseen. You were alone—weren't you?—but you felt them. Watching.
It was time to leave.
The thought was immediate, instinctual, and you heeded it without hesitation. Turning on your heel, you stepped out of the room, the eerie weight of unseen eyes pressing against your back until the door clicked shut behind you.
The grand hall was easy to navigate after that—bright, pristine, alive with the hum of conversation. And there, amidst the sea of white and gold, was the sharp contrast of black. Silco. A solitary mark of darkness in an ocean of light. But he was not alone this time. The two boys from earlier stood beside him, their conversation flowing with an ease that suggested familiarity, perhaps even enjoyment.
Silco was the first to notice your return. Without breaking his sentence, he extended a hand toward you—a silent order. Come. You did. You stepped to his side, slipping seamlessly into the space he had reserved for you, but the sensation of being watched remained—a persistent itch at the base of your skull.
"My dear." Silco spoke smoothly, "Allow me to introduce two of Piltover's rising scientists, Jayce and Viktor." His tone was polite, measured, but there was something else beneath it. A note of calculation. "Viktor, in particular, is from Zaun—"
His voice faded into the background, his words swallowed by the sudden static in your ears.
Because you saw him.
A few meters away, near one of the towering marble pillars, stood a man. Older, his head nearly bald save for the short streaks of graying hair clinging to the sides. His beard was thick, well-groomed, equally as silvered. But it wasn't his face that sent a tremor down your spine. It wasn't the polished gold of his clothing, expensive and regal yet utterly at odds with the sheer emptiness behind his eyes.
Those eyes.
Black, soulless, unyielding.
They locked onto yours, unwavering.
And then he smiled. It wasn't a warm smile. Not one of recognition or joy. It was a hollow thing, sharp and false, curling his lips without reaching those abyssal eyes. Slowly, mockingly, he lifted his glass. A silent toast. A taunt.
Those eyes.
Suddenly, you were no longer in the grand hall.
The warmth of Silco's presence at your side was gone. The sea of white marble and glittering chandeliers had vanished. In their place was reinforced glass, thick and unyielding, standing between you and the world beyond. Heavy chains clung to your wrists and ankles, their weight dragging against the cold, sterile floor. Your fingers, slick with fresh blood, dripped crimson onto the ground beneath you—large, wet splatters spreading outward, the metallic tang of iron thick in the air.
You should have been unconscious.
The sedatives coursing through your veins were meant to take you down, to keep you docile. But somehow, you were still standing, your vision hazy yet locked onto the figure beyond the glass.
The Founder watched you in return. His expression was unreadable beneath the smooth, featureless expanse of his white mask, the cold gleam of artificial light reflecting off its flawless surface. The only part of him visible—the only thing that betrayed any semblance of humanity—were his eyes.
Those eyes looked at you as if you were nothing more than an experiment in progress. A little pet of his that would have to be taught to obey, by hook or by crook.
"She killed one of the scientists and severely wounded three others during the reflex test protocol."
A muffled voice, female, somewhere beyond the glass. Your gaze flicked to the source—the woman standing beside him, clad in the stark uniform of security personnel. Maybe she was their chief. Maybe she was the one who had put you down.
"She's becoming volatile. It was pure luck that I managed to sedate her, if I hadn't, she would have torn through the entire facility."
He didn't seem very impressed with the situation, in fact you could almost say he was amused. As if your escape attempt was somehow interesting to him. You got the feeling he knew how much you wanted to kill him and yet he wasn't impressed.
"Is the containment collar ready?"
The voice behind the mask asked—not the kind of deep, menacing voice that struck fear into your bones, but something higher, almost grating, yet muffled by both the mask and the thick glass between you.
You had vaguely heard about this containment collar they were developing especially to keep you under control. During the sessions where they tied you to the bed to inject, God knows what it was, into your veins, the scientists loved to talk among themselves and ignored that you were still there, turning over in agonizing silence. Because screaming, you learned over time, would do no good and would only hurt your throat.
"Still in the testing phase." the woman replied. "They're trying to regulate the voltage so it doesn't fry her brain."
"Put it on. She'll withstand it."
You moved. Instinctively.
A step forward—only to be yanked back, the cold bite of metal slicing into your wrists and ankles as the chains locked into place, unyielding in their grip. The force sent a sharp jolt of pain up your arms, grounding you in the present, in the stark reality of your captivity.
But it was enough. Just that single movement was enough to reveal it—something off about the space beyond the glass. The way the depth flattened, as though the walls were painted rather than real. The way details flickered at the edges of your vision, shifting, warping, like the world itself was fraying at the seams. A flaw. A crack in the illusion. The slip of a careless hand.
Your breath came in ragged, uneven bursts as you forced your gaze to focus. To see.
"It's not real."
And just like that, the illusion shattered. The memory peeled away like paper curling under open flame, the edges blackening, crumbling into nothing. The iron walls disintegrated. The chains dissolved into dust. The blood-stained floor cracked and splintered before vanishing into the void.
And suddenly, there was nothing.
No prison. No pain.
Only you.
And him.
"Not many manage to recognize the illusion, but I shouldn't be surprised."
No longer the same voice. No longer the same figure. Your muscles coiled, instinct screaming at you to be ready—to run, to fight, to act—but there was nowhere to go. Nothing but the endless dark surrounding you. Bootsteps echoed in the void and then he stepped forward.
The mask remained on that figure's face. Stark white against the void, an expressionless facade that revealed nothing of what lay beneath it. But his posture—the effortless confidence, the way he tilted his head ever so slightly, as if studying you with newfound interest—told you enough. Not to mention the golden glow where his eyes were before.
"I was informed of your capabilities."
Your pulse pounded against your ribs. The remnants of the fabricated memory still clawed at the edges of your mind, whispering, urging you to question reality even now. But this—this was real. You felt it in your bones. In the cold, electric pulse of dread crawling up your spine.
Your voice was steady despite the tremor in your blood.
"Who sent you?"
You had to ask, even though you knew exactly who it was.
"Your former master." The words struck like a knife, sharp and precise, slicing through whatever fragile composure you had left. A breath of silence. Heavy. Suffocating. "He wishes to reclaim what is his."
"Let me guess." You ignored how that phrase had that disgusting connotation of possession, as if you were nothing more than just a thing. "He promised you a piece of the throne once he carried out his coup."
You forced the words past your lips, steady, unwavering—despite the chaos raging inside you. Every fiber of your being screamed that something was wrong. That you were wrong. Your body was failing, muscles seizing, lungs tightening as if the very air around you had turned against you. For the first time in your life, you were at a disadvantage in a fight. And you knew it.
This wasn't a battle of strength. It wasn't even one of skill. This was something else entirely—something insidious, creeping beneath your skin like poison. You had to play carefully now. Because nothing would save you from this except yourself.
The figure before you remained composed, unimpressed, his stance one of effortless dominance.
"Precisely."
The confirmation sent a sickening weight to the pit of your stomach.
"And what makes you think I'd let you take me to him?"
A soft chuckle. Unbothered.
"At this very moment." he mused, voice smooth as silk, "Your body is convulsing in the arms of your beloved. That beautiful white dress of yours? Now a deep, soaking red. The entire ballroom is in chaos." the voice continued, relentless, almost amused. "Whispers of assassination spreading like wildfire. And your poor, devoted lover?"
A pause.
The air in your lungs turned to ice.
"Shedding tears over your corpse..."
A fresh wave of nausea rolled through you. You could see it—could feel it—the phantom sensation of Silco's hands pressing against your body, desperate to stem the bleeding, crimson staining his fingers, his sleeves.
"Souls destined to meet, but not to stay."
The words hung in the air, dripping with cruel amusement, each syllable drawn out as if they were savoring the weight of their implications. The image they painted was so vivid, so grotesquely detailed, that for a moment, it felt real. Too real.
Your mind clawed through the haze, frantic, desperate, searching for the precise moment it had all gone wrong. Think. Focus. There had been nothing in your drink—you were certain of that. No bitterness, no unfamiliar scent lingering at the rim of your glass. You had been careful, cautious, as always. And yet, your body was betraying you. Your limbs felt heavier, your breath coming just a little too shallow, your pulse wrong.
Then it hit you. The rose.
The moment replayed in your mind with cruel clarity—the way it had disintegrated between your fingers, reduced to nothing but fine, gray ash. So fragile. So harmless at first glance. But that wasn't just ash, was it? It had seeped into your lungs, into your bloodstream, lacing itself through your body like an invisible thread, tightening around your fate with each breath you took.
Fucking clever.
Your stomach twisted, not with fear—but with cold, simmering anger. But that wasn't what unsettled you the most. It was their final words. "Souls destined to meet, but not to stay." What the hell was that supposed to mean? A warning? A prophecy? A taunt?
Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms as you forced your expression into something unreadable, something sharp. If they were expecting panic, they would get nothing from you.
"I thought the plan was to take me alive."
Your voice came out even, measured, despite the way your veins screamed otherwise. A simple question, but a loaded one. A test. A challenge.
The figure simply smiled and that was what made your blood run cold.
"Oh, it is."
The figure's posture remained unnervingly composed, hands clasped behind their back, their stance almost leisurely. Like a spider waiting at the center of its web, watching you struggle, watching you understand.
"But you see, the art of resurrection is something our organization has perfected."
A slow, measured inhale. You took a step closer, gaze locked onto theirs, searching for any shift in expression beneath the mask. Nothing. Just that unwavering poise, that quiet confidence that made your skin prickle with unease.
"But you have another proposition, don't you?" you murmured, voice steady despite the way your pulse pounded beneath your ribs. "Because if this was just about abducting me, you wouldn't have gone through all this theatrics."
A beat of silence. Then, a small tilt of the head—subtle, but telling. They were pleased. You understood their game very well.
"I see potential in you." they admitted, their tone smooth, almost conversational. "Potential to be something more than a mere political pawn. Surely, you must know, your former master is unfit to rule. He is useful, yes, malleable, easy to control. But he is also a fool. Frankly, I'm impressed that someone like him was able to create something like you."
Your lips curled at the edges, though there was no amusement in it.
"I thought men like him were precisely what organizations like yours would want. Weak enough to be a puppet."
The figure didn't flinch. Didn't hesitate. Beneath their mask, you could feel the weight of their smile.
"Oh, my dear..." they mused, stepping forward just enough to close the distance between you. Not close enough to touch, but enough that you could feel the phantom weight of their presence pressing against your skin. "To be a puppet, one must at least be perceived as a figure of power... and smart enough that people don't suspect there's something wrong."
Your voice remained unwavering.
"That man would hold no true power. He would only have control over you, which could shift in an instant the moment you decided to betray him. As you already did." A slow, deliberate nod. A small concession. "But you and your companion... you are a different case entirely."
Their voice dipped lower, a quiet hum laced with intrigue.
"You two command Zaun without the necessity of external support. An alliance between us would be mutually beneficial."
Your fingers twitched at your side, resisting the urge to advance on that unknown person and rip off that mask with your fists. But violence wouldn't save you from this situation, it would only make it worse. At least you had an advantage... and they didn't know it.
"And what exactly are you offering?"
"Our assistance in taking Piltover."
The answer was delivered with perfect composure, smooth as glass, as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the world. No hesitation. No flourish. Just a simple truth, spoken with the ease of one who held all the cards.
"I assume that is Silco's ultimate goal... and yours as well. In return, we ask only for your loyalty to our organization. The new rulers of Piltover and Zaun, bound to us, would be advantageous for all parties involved."
A proposal. A trap.
Your expression didn't waver, but the weight of their words settled against your skin like a cold, invisible hand pressing into your throat. This was a delicate game, one of patience, of performance—one misstep, one crack in your façade, and you would lose control of the board entirely.
So you took a step forward.
Your gaze fixed on the slits where the mask's eyes were, searching for something—anything—that symbolized that there was some humanity there. But all there was that golden glow, very different from the dark, human irises of the one who once controlled you. But you held their gaze, staring straight in the face.
Your hand drifted—subtly—to where the dagger Silco had given you should have been. The comforting weight of it should be there, pressing against the fabric of your gown, a quiet promise of survival. But of course, you weren't wearing the dress anymore.
Not in this illusion. Still, it didn't matter.
Your fingers brushed against nothingness, but your confidence never wavered. You let the ghost of a smile flicker across your lips—just enough. A whisper of amusement, a faint glimmer of control.
"You're right."
The words came smoothly, effortlessly, slipping from your lips like silk. You let them settle between you, let them lull your opponent into believing, even for a second, that you had yielded.
"It is a beneficial alliance."
A slow inhale left your lips as your fingers curled around something unseen. The hilt of the dagger that wasn't there—yet for a fleeting moment, you felt it. The familiar weight. The cold press of steel against your palm and that was all you needed.
"But you overlooked something." Silence stretched, thick with expectation, anticipation coiling in the air like a serpent waiting to strike. Your grip tightened. "Silco would never cry."
The words left your lips in a whisper—an absolute certainty. And then, with one swift motion, you drove the dagger to your own throat. A sharp sting. The blade cut through your skin so effortlessly that it barely felt real. But the warmth of blood spilling down your collar, the taste of iron flooding your mouth—it was real. The choking sensation clawing up your throat, the burn of air struggling to pass through the wound—it was all real.
Pain flashed bright and brutal. But for just a second—no, less than that—before the world went dark. And then, just as abruptly, it wasn't.
Your eyes snapped open.
No cold steel against your skin. No blood pooling at your feet, no suffocating void swallowing you whole. No death.
You were still there.
Standing at Silco's side.
The grand hall, the murmuring voices, the faint clink of crystal glasses—it was all unchanged, untouched, as if the moment before had never happened. Your gown remained pristine, the fabric smooth and unwrinkled, as though it had never been stained with your own desperation. The two men Silco had introduced you to mere moments ago continued speaking, the conversation around you carried on seamlessly, as if nothing had happened—because, of course, nothing had.
At least, not in this world.
Yet your fingers drifted to your throat instinctively, tracing the place where you had felt the blade carve into your skin. There was nothing there. No wound, no scar—just smooth, unblemished flesh. Your action was a gamble. A desperate move, born from the realization that you had been trapped within your own mind, ensnared by an external force. There had been only two outcomes to your decision:
One, you would wake.
Two, you would have killed yourself from the inside out.
And by the looks of it you had won the winning hand.
Them a voice curled through the remnants of your consciousness, a whisper laced with amusement. A woman's voice. The real entity that had worn the face of your old master. The true force behind the illusion.
"Clever girl."
Somehow, you didn't feel particularly clever. If you were, you wouldn't have fallen into this trap in the first place. But one thing was certain—your former master was desperate enough to forge an alliance with someone from Noxus. Someone with abilities like that.
At the very least, this was a problem.
You could handle a physical fight. You had trained for that, had shaped your body into a weapon, honed your instincts into something near-predatory. But this—whatever this was—was something entirely different. Magic?
Magic in Piltover?
That, on its own, was dangerous.
Your mind replayed the sensation, the disorientation, the seamless transition between realities as if you had simply blinked and stepped into another world. No physical struggle. No warning. Just a shift—so subtle, so complete—that you hadn't even realized you were ensnared until it was far too late.
And yet...
You had the distinct impression that, whatever that thing—that woman—was, she had let you go. Not because she was incapable of holding you. Not because you had outmaneuvered her. No, it was a concession. A subtle lure, placed carefully to ensure you wouldn't completely reject the idea of an eventual alliance.
Their demand for loyalty was not about diplomacy, not about ensuring a balance of power. No, the currency they sought to trade was far more personal. Because what was the point of demanding allegiance if not to use what you had to offer?
Including you.
Silco's Pov ━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━
Viktor was a man of potential—intelligent, ambitious, driven by an innate hunger to carve his name into the world. But as long as he remained in Piltover, he was not reliable. Not yet. Still, Silco saw an opportunity. If there was one thing that weak men desired above all else, it was to shed their weakness. To be reborn stronger, unshackled from their frailties. And Silco had every reason to believe that, given the right motivation, Viktor could be swayed.
Singed would certainly appreciate the assistance, especially now, with plans shifting in unexpected ways.
But that could wait.
Because at that moment, Silco was far more concerned with her.
He had noticed it first at the ball—the way her entire demeanor had shifted in an instant. At first, he had assumed she was simply bored or tired, lost in some idle thought, but then... the change came. Subtle, but distinct. A rigid awareness coiled through her frame, her gaze flitting over every shadow, every movement, as if anticipating an attack that never arrived. Even after they had left the grand hall, even now, standing within the familiar confines of his quarters, that sharp, watchful tension still held her in its grip.
Silco studied her as he discarded his coat. She had barely moved since stepping into the room, only removing her mask, still eerily quiet as she stared at her own reflection in the mirror.
Something was wrong.
He approached, careful, calculated. One hand settled against the small of her back first—a silent presence, a tether to the present—before gliding up to the intricate laces of her corset. His touch was light, testing, watching for any reaction.
And then his eyes met her in the mirror. She had already been watching him.
"Are you going to tell me what happened, dove... or will I have to demand it?"
Silco held her gaze, the dim lighting casting shadows across his sharp features, his expression unreadable but utterly focused. His fingers lingered at the ties of her corset, unmoving, waiting.
"He tried to reach me again."
Silco's eyes narrowed, a flash of anger sparking in their depths as he processed her ominous words. He knew instantly who she was referring to —the founder of the Institute, the man who had haunted her life for far too long. The mere mention of him was enough to make Silco's jaw clench, his grip on the laces of her corset tightening fractionally.
"How?"
"He made some kind of deal with a Noxian organization. I believe the same one that hosted the ball." she started, her voice steady at first, but he could hear the undercurrent of tension lacing each word. "They put me in some kind of trance... I don't know."
She exhaled sharply, her hands lifting to press against her temples, as if trying to ground herself, to pull her thoughts back into order.
"It wasn't like anything I've ever encountered before." she continued, fingers rubbing slow, absent circles against her skin. "It wasn't an attack, at least not in the way I expected. It wasn't meant to kill me. If that was their goal, they had the opportunity, but they didn't take it. Instead..."
Silco listened intently as she began to explain, his brows furrowing in concern and growing unease. As she spoke, he could hear the tremor in her voice, the way her words tumbled out in a nervous, jumbled rush. It was clear that whatever had happened at the ball had shaken her deeply.
"They wanted to negotiate."
Realizing that she was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack by the way her chest rose and fell rapidly, Silco made a conscious decision to help calm her down. His fingers began to work at the intricate laces of her corset, slowly and methodically undoing the tight knots that held the garment in place. With each lace loosened, he could feel her breathing start to even out, her body relaxing incrementally in his hold.
"And what exactly did they offer you?"
"Alliance." Her voice was even, but he knew her well enough to catch the weight beneath it. "They would help us in a coup d'état in Piltover in exchange for our loyalty."
The offer was almost laughable.
Loyalty.
The word echoed in his mind, bitter on his tongue.
It was not something to be given lightly. Not to men whose allegiances shifted with the winds of power. Not to a nation that prided itself on conquest, on consuming everything in its path until nothing remained but the twisted reflection of its own ambition. Noxus was a beast of war, relentless, insatiable. They would reduce Piltover to rubble, raze it to the ground with brutal efficiency. And then, once the ashes had settled, they would turn their gaze downward—to the Undercity, to Zaun.
Because men like these did not grant power. They took it.
Their assistance in a coup was, in theory, tempting. It was, after all, a dream he had harbored for years—the fall of Piltover, its arrogant elites stripped of their thrones, its people forced to reckon with the weight of their own hypocrisy. To see them suffer as Zaun had suffered. To make them kneel.
But this? This was not Zaun's victory. This was not his war.
This was Noxus, slithering its way into a battlefield where it did not belong, whispering promises of power while tightening the noose around his throat. And they wanted her bound to them as well. His jaw tensed.
No.
He would not place himself, nor her, in the hands of a foreign empire that saw them as nothing more than tools to be sharpened and discarded.
Zaun would rise, but it would rise on his terms.
It would be his war.
His victory.
"I know this deal is something you would dream of, Silco, but I couldn't accept it... I couldn't."
As she continued to ramble, her words spilling out in a frantic, anxious torrent, Silco focused on the task of undressing her. His hands worked deftly, sliding the fabric of her dress down her body, inch by inch, helping to alleviate the suffocating weight of the heavy materials. He started at her shoulders, carefully easing the straps down her arms, his fingertips grazing her soft skin as he went. The dress pooled around her waist for a moment before Silco hooked his thumbs under the bodge, slowly tugging it downwards, letting it slither over her curves like liquid silver.
As the dress fell away, Silco took a moment to admire the way it highlighted the elegant lines of her back, the way her skin seemed to glow in the dim lighting of the room. He could see the delicate bones of her spine, the graceful curve of her shoulder blades, the soft swell of her buttocks as the dress puddled around her feet.
With the dress removed, Silco's hands began to roam over the newly exposed skin, his palms gliding over the smooth expanse of her back in a soothing, circular motion. He started at the base of her neck, his thumbs pressing gently into the tense muscles, working out the knots and kinks that had formed there.
Silco's hands slid lower, his fingers kneading and massaging the flesh of her shoulders, her upper back, his touch was a silent apology, a wordless way of telling her that he was there for her, that she was safe and protected in his arms. Silco's hands continued their path down her back, his fingers splaying out to cover as much of her skin as possible.
He could feel she melting under his touch, her body growing warm and pliant, her breathing evening out as he worked to chase away the lingering traces of fear and anxiety. Silco's hands slid lower still. He sought to erase the memory of her ordeal and replace it with something far more pleasant.
"You did well to refuse their offer, dove." he said, his words a quiet praise. "As tempting as it may have been, you knew that any agreement forged with such shadowy figures would come at a price. A steep one."
Silco's hands slid around to rest on the curve of her hips, his fingers splaying out to grip her gently as he pulled her flush against his own body. He could feel the soft, warm skin of her bare back pressing against his chest, the delicate lines of her spine fitting perfectly against the hard, sculpted planes of his own torso.
"We cannot know the true cost of such a bargain, not until it's far too late."
His thumb brushing over the soft swell of her breast, a gesture that was more about comfort than arousal. In that moment, Silco's focus was solely on erasing the vulnerability and trepidation that haunted her eyes. In that moment, with her naked body pressed against his own, her reflection staring back at them and the intimate nature of their embrace, there was no hint of sexuality in his touch.
"But I don't think a refusal will make them back down."She leaned back against him, her head resting lightly on his shoulder, and Silco felt the faintest tension in her muscles. "If that bastard was desperate enough to make a deal with those Noxian maniacs... none of them are going to stop."
Her voice was steady, but he knew better. There was something fractured beneath the surface, something raw and unspoken. Even though she had accepted the necessity of violence, there was still a part of her that remained terribly, irrevocably broken. And that part—Silco knew—was something he could never repair.
"And if... if they managed to reach me again and succeeded this time?" Silco watched as she hesitated, caught in the web of her own thoughts. He could see it—the way her fingers twitched slightly at her sides, the subtle, uneven rise and fall of her chest. The panic was creeping in, curling around the edges of her composure like smoke from a smoldering fire. "I can't go back to that place."
Her breath hitched just slightly at the admission, her eyes darting away as if ashamed to have spoken the words aloud.
"Sit on the bed." His voice cut through the air, firm, final. A command, not a request.
"What?"
She blinked, startled by the suddenness of it, but he was already moving, stepping away from her and toward the bed with purpose. He glanced back only once, raising a single brow—a silent expectation that she would follow. After a moment's hesitation, she turned. He watched as she reached for the robe draped over the chair, slipping it over her shoulders with slow, measured movements, as if grounding herself in the simple act of covering her skin.
Then, at last, she sat.
She scoffed, voice laced with bitter sarcasm. "You're excellent at comforting people, do you know that?"
Irritation rippled through her tone, sharp, unimpressed. She was visibly annoyed that he had shattered whatever fragile moment of vulnerability she had allowed herself. But Silco didn't care for the bite in her voice, nor for the way she bristled at him.
Instead, he moved.
Lowering himself to one knee before her. Just as a sinner would kneel in front of a goddess to atone for his sins. The shift caught her off guard. He saw it immediately—the way her breath hitched, the way her eyes widened, round as a startled fawn's. Shock overtook whatever storm had been churning inside her moments before, rendering her completely still.
Silent.
She didn't move, didn't resist as his fingers found the hem of her stocking. Silco took his time, dragging the delicate fabric down the smooth expanse of her leg with measured intent. His knuckles brushed along the curve of his calf as he worked, his touch neither rough nor hesitant, simply inevitable.
"You may think that." he murmured, voice low as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. His hands discarded the stocking to the side with little ceremony before reaching for her other leg, fingers finding their place once more. "But you're calmer now."
She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched—small, nearly imperceptible. He caught it. A glimmer of something beneath the surface. When the second stocking slipped free, Silco did not let her go. Instead, his grip shifted, fingers curling around the back of her calf, pulling gently—just enough to tip her balance, just enough to force her to meet his gauze once more.
The air between them stretched taut.
His expression was impassive, unreadable, but his eyes burned with something far deeper than mere words could ever convey. It was the same look he wore when handling matters of the utmost importance, when he was utterly unwavering in his convictions.
A look that left no space for doubt, for hesitation—only certainty.
Only truth.
"They will never take you from me."
A pause.
"Do you promise?"
Her voice was soft, nearly swallowed by the silence between them. There was a fragility to it, a hesitation, as if she was teetering on the edge of something too uncertain to name. Fear laced the edges of her words, coiling around them like the ghost of an old wound, but her eyes... Her eyes told a different story.
Silco had come to recognize that look—unwavering, searching, a silent plea wrapped in the kind of trust that should have never been placed in a man like him. It was a dangerous thing, trust. It made people reckless, blind. It left them vulnerable to betrayal. And yet...
Yet, he did not resent it.
He should have. He should have found her faith in him foolish, naive, something to exploit, to mold into a shape that suited his needs. Instead, it settled in his chest like a weight, something heavy and unfamiliar, something that twisted in ways he refused to acknowledge.
He reached for her hand, his gloved fingers brushing over the warmth of her skin before curling around it, firm but careful. A quiet possession. A claim unspoken. He could feel the slight tremor in her fingers—barely there, but present enough for him to notice.
He brought her hand to his lips.
A breath passed between them, slow and steady, before he pressed his mouth against her knuckles. The touch was measured, his lips lingering just enough to leave the ghost of warmth behind. It was not a kiss of affection, nor was it one of comfort. It was something else entirely.
A vow.
Something older, something weightier than mere words.
His lips barely parted from her skin as he murmured, voice low, steady, and absolute:
"Cross my heart and hope to die."
A promise.
And Silco never made promises he did not intend to keep.
[...]
Silco stirred from his slumber, a soft groan escaping his lips as he felt a strange sensation stirred to life in his groin. His body tensed slightly, muscles tightening as a pleasurable warmth began to coil and build at the base of his spine. Still half-asleep, his mind hazy and unclear, Silco tried to blink away the lingering tendrils of the dream that had led him here.
It was then that he felt it — a wet, silken heat enveloping its hardening length, a tongue swirling around the sensitive crown, teasing the slit and the ridge with a maddening gentleness. Silco's breath hitched in his throat, his hips jerking forward reflexively as the pleasure intensified, the sensation of her mouth around him sending sparks of electricity racing through his nerves.
His eyes flew open, blinking away the last of his sleep and focusing on the sight before him. There, nestled between his legs, was she, her hair a tousled mess around her face as she looked up at him with those stunning eyes. He could see the way her lips stretched around his girth, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she sucked him with a fervor that made his cock throb in her mouth.
"Fuck, dove..." Silco groaned, his voice a low, husky rasp as he struggled to regain control of his faculties. "What are you... ah... fuck..."
Silco's hand flew to her hair, his fingers tangling in the silken strands as he watched her work, his breathing growing heavier and more labored with each passing second. He could feel the vibrations of her moan, the hum of her pleasure radiating through his flesh and settling deep in his core.
Silco's head fell back against the mattress as she moaned around his cock, the vibrations of her pleasure making his eyes roll back in bliss. Her mouth and tongue working in tandem to drive him to new heights of pleasure. The sight of her, so eager and wanton was almost too much for Silco to bear.
He could feel her throat constricting around him, the tight, rippling heat engulfing his cock as she swallowed around his length, her nose pressing against his pelvis with each pass.
Silco felt the last of his restraint slipping away. His hips began to move on their own accord, thrusting up to meet her descending mouth, fucking into the warm, welcoming heat of her throat. The rhythm was sloppy, desperate, driven by the all-consuming need to chase the pleasure she was offering him.
He could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, the tension coiling tighter and tighter as his climax approached. The sensation of her tongue swirling around the base of his shaft, her teeth gently grazing his flesh, was enough to push him to the brink of madness.
"Swallow it, dove." he chanted, his voice a low, guttural growl as he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in her mouth, his heavy balls slapping against her chin. "Swallow every fucking drop..."
Silco's body went rigid, every muscle seizing up as the pleasure finally crested, washing over him in a massive, all-consuming wave. His vision went white, his hearing fading to a distance, ringing roar as his climax hit him with the force of a freight train. For a single, suspended moment, Silco was utterly lost, his mind blanking out as pure sensation overwhelmed him.
When he finally came back to himself, Silco blinked away the last of the spots dancing before his eyes, his chest heaving and his skin slick with a sheen of sweat. It was only then that he registered the weight of her body straddling his lap, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance as she climbed up to face him.
She was breathtaking, her hair disheveled and her eyes glowing with a triumphant, almost wicked light. As Silco watched, she swallowed making a show of it, and he could feel a rush of pride and possessiveness surge through him.
The sight was so erotic, so deeply, profoundly sensual that Silco felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, a sudden lightheadedness that made him feel as though he might pass out from the sheer intensity of it. In that moment, gazing up at her triumphant, arrogant face, Silco thought that if he were to die right then and there, he would have died a very, very happy and satisfied man.
As she moved to position Silco's sensitive tip at her entrance, a jolt of overstimulated nerves sent a shockwave through his body. Silco's hands flew up to grip her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises as he fought to ground himself against the overwhelming sensation.
"Wait..." Silco gritted out through clenched teeth, his voice a low, strained rasp as he struggled to rein in his frayed composure. "Too sensitive... give me a moment..."
Silco took a deep, shuddering breath, his fingers flexing against the soft curves of her hips as he fought to regain control over his fraying composure. As the sensitivity ebbed, Silco found himself acutely aware of every inch of skin-on-skin contact, every brush of her body against his. He watched, enraptured, as she began to move, her hips undulating in a slow, sensual rhythm that made his spent cock twitch and stir, already beginning to regain its hardness.
He let her lead, content to simply sit back and enjoy the show, his hands gripping her hips, without strength, just remaining there.
The sight of her was breathtaking, her hair cascading down her back in loose, tousled waves as she rolled and swayed above him. Silco let his gaze drift over her body, taking in the way her breasts bounced and swayed with each movement, the peaks of her nipples hard and straining. He could see the play of muscles beneath her skin, the flex and stretch of her abs as she worked herself over his still-sensitive length.
Silco's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as he felt the familiar tightening in his groin, the pressure building with alarming speed. He had thought he had more time, had believed he could hold off the impending climax, but her relentless movements had other plans.
His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, holding on for dear life as the pleasure crested and peaked, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside her. Silco's head fell back against the pillow, his teeth clenched and his jaw tight as he fought to maintain control, to keep himself from simply letting go.
"Dove..." Silco grunted, his voice a strained, desperate rasp as he fought to hold back the tide of his impending release. "I'm... fuck, I'm close again... you need to slow down, or I won't... won't last much longer..."
Even as the words left his lips, Silco knew it was a losing battle. The sensation of her body moving over his, the slick, silken heat gripping him like a vice, was too much for his overstimulated flesh to withstand.
"That fast?" she replied in a half-sigh, half-taunt. "I thought I could handle a second round."
Silco let out a half-snarl, half-moan, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger, frustration, and an all-consuming lust. One of Silco's hands flew to tug on her necklace to level their gazes; was it just him or did she never take that necklace off?
"Don't you dare act like this is my fault." Silco snarled, his voice a low, guttural rasp. "If you hadn't attacked me so fucking suddenly this morning, maybe I'd have the stamina to keep up with you, you wicked little tease."
"Well... I didn't see you complaining about that." She was giving that smile, that damn smile that Silco hated to love.
Silco opened his mouth to retort, a sharp, biting comment poised on the tip of his tongue, ready to lash out at her taunting words. But the words died in his throat as the pleasure crested. She was now riding him faster... deeper, obviously on purpose. The heat and pressure building to an unbearable peak before finally, blessedly, exploding outwards.
His hips jerked and spasmed, his body shaking with the intensity of his release as he emptied himself inside her.
It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a second of utter, mindless rapture that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Silco was lost in it, drowning in the all-consuming ecstasy of his climax, his mind blanking out as sensation overwhelmed every other thought or care. As the waves of pleasure began to ebb, Silco slowly came back to himself, his chest heaving and his skin slick with sweat. He blinked away the last of the spots dancing before his eyes, his gaze slowly focusing on her triumphant, wickedly smiling face.
Silco tried to muster up some semblance of outrage. But in that moment, with his body still shaking from the aftershocks of his intense orgasm, he found he couldn't quite bring himself to care. Instead, he simply shook his head, a wry, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You little minx." he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble. "If that was your attempt at killing me, dove, I must say, you have a rather... unorthodox approach to murder."
"It seemed quite effective to me."
She shifted against him, just enough to remind him of the position they were still in. The movement was barely anything—an almost imperceptible roll of her hips—but it struck him like a live wire. His breath hitched, his hands instinctively tightening around her to keep her still. A second time had been tolerable. Barely. A third would be his end.
"Either way, you'll have to make it up to me later."
Silco exhaled through his nose, a short, sardonic laugh. "And here I thought you woke up benevolent today."
She scoffed, stretching like a satisfied cat above him, all bare skin and teasing smiles. "Benevolent? To you?" Her voice was pure amusement, wickedness lacing every syllable. The corner of her lips curled just enough to taunt him. "In your dreams, Silco."
Ah. There she was.
Silco hummed, shifting lazily on the sheets, his body still steeped in the afterglow of his climax. But she was tempting fate, pressing her advantage like she always did—like she could. And he wouldn't allow that.
Not without consequence.
With practiced ease, he reversed their positions, his grip firm as he guided her onto her back. A sharp gasp left her lips when his hands settled on her knees, spreading them apart and placing himself between her thighs.
"I wonder if you ever consider the consequences before starting these little games." His voice was a low purr, silk laced with gravel, all patience and promise.
She swallowed, just barely, but he noticed. He always noticed.
"Tell me, now without your usual mischief." He leaned in, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of her throat, taking in the way her pulse jumped at the contact. "Why did you do it? Not that I'm complaining about being woken up like this... I'm just curious about your real intentions. If you want something, just ask me."
There was a pause. A hesitation, fleeting yet sharp enough to draw his attention. The way she was looking at him now was as if she had suddenly realized something.
"Because I lo—"
The words caught in her throat, her body tensing beneath him as though she'd realized her mistake too late. A second of silence. Then, a swift correction.
"Because I wanted to thank you." Another pause. "For last night."
Ah.
Silco felt a smirk of his own creeping into place, though he said nothing immediately. Instead, he let his hands wander, his touch as slow and calculated as his thoughts. She had almost said something else. Something he wasn't sure either of them was prepared for. But if she wasn't ready to admit it, he certainly wasn't going to be the one to say it first.
Not yet.
"Then I suppose it's only fair that I thank you as well for being such a well-mannered little thing, don't you think, my sweet dove?"
Part 18
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This chapter was actually just one with over 10k, but there ended up being a lot of things happening in a very short presentation space, so for the sake of your sanity and also because I wanted to focus a little on the relationship between reader and Silco, I separated this chapter into two distinct parts. The next one is almost complete, but I will re-edit it to work as a whole chapter and add a new scene that you will choose this time. Now I will let you choose between the two options below to continue from this ending and relax, there won't be any pregnancies in this story (I particularly don't like this type of plot).
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#silco x reader#silco x you#reader insert#arcane fanfic#arcane#arcane silco#minors dni#smut#no beta we die like silco
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Hello! I wanted to ask about your analysis of Cedricd Diggory and his family, especially because people are unsure of whether his blood status is pure-blood or half-blood since there's not much about his mother, his nationality; only prominent figure of their bloodline was Eldritch Diggory— unknown blood status and a British wizard who served as the fourth Minister for Magic of the British Ministry of Magic. Wouldn't that tidbit add to possible wealth for the Diggory family as they're descendants of him?
Like, we don't have canon answers, so I have speculations, headcanons, and theories — but that's something I do here often.
Not much is known about Eldrich Diggory, but all the three ministers that came before him (Gamp, Rowle, and Parkinson) were all purebloods and likely Wizengamot members (Gamp canonically was and I assume the others were too). So, I think it's reasonable to assume that the Diggories, at least back then, were purebloods and members of the Wizengamot.
Amos Diggory (Cedric's dad) works in the ministry and seems quite prideful in his son and family — suggesting they might still be involved in the Wizengamot. We also know they lived near the Weasleys and Lovegoods around Ottery St Catchpole which is a wizard-only village, which indicates, again, that they at least used to be pureblood and might still be. (The Weasleys and Lovegoods are both purebloods who live in Ottery St Catchpole, so, it suggests the Diggorys' blood status is similar).
They also seem to have enough disposable income for the Quidditch World Cup which they seem to have paid for:
“Had to get up at two, didn’t we, Ced? I tell you, I’ll be glad when he’s got his Apparition test. Still . . . not complaining . . . Quidditch World Cup, wouldn’t miss it for a sackful of Galleons — and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy. . . .” Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. “All these yours, Arthur?”
(GoF)
Mrs. Diggory also declines when Harry tries to give them Cedric's Triwizard winnings (yes, it was a choice fueled by morality, but it still implies they aren't short on money since a 1000 Galleons is a lot). Cedric also says this:
“Hi,” said Cedric, picking up a copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration that was now splattered with ink. “My bag just split ... brand-new and all ...”
(GoF)
So, again, the Diggories live comfortably and can buy a brand-new bag for every school year.
So, they seem to be well off, not Malfoy-rich, but doing well. I'd call them solidly a middle-class or even upper-middle-class family. They are likely still Wizengamot members, with Amos having a nice position in the ministry (though, nothing is known about it beyond the department). They were pureblood-ish around the 1700s. That being said, the Diggories are not listed in the Sacred 28, which could be either for Cantankerus Nott's resentment towards a Diggory of his time or that by the 1930s the Diggories were known as not pureblood anymore. There isn't really anything to say either way, but I find it more likely they married half-bloods and muggleborns throughout the years rather than muggles due to where they live (they live in a wizard-only village and go to school only with wizards, they have little to no opportunities to even meet muggles, so I think it's unlikely they married muggles. Again, not because of prejudice, but due to the fact they likely never really met any).
Mrs. Diggory, specifically, is implied to be a witch since she visits Hogwarts:
“Professor,” Harry mumbled, “where are Mr. and Mrs. Diggory?” “They are with Professor Sprout,” said Dumbledore. His voice, which had been so calm throughout the interrogation of Barty Crouch, shook very slightly for the first time. “She was Head of Cedric’s house, and knew him best.”
(GoF)
While the Fantastic Beasts movies showed a muggle at Hogwarts, this is a retcon considering muggles won't even be able to see the school due to how muggle-repelling charms work in the books:
The tricky part was getting onto platform nine and three-quarters, which wasn’t visible to the Muggle eye.
(CoS)
“This is it,” said Hagrid, coming to a halt, “the Leaky Cauldron. It’s a famous place.” It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn’t pointed it out, Harry wouldn’t have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn’t glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn’t see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Hagrid could see it.
(PS)
So, Cedric is essentially pureblood (I mean, his mom could be a muggleborn or half-blood but she's clearly a witch) as both his parents are wizards, he grew up around the Wizarding World his entire life and probably never met a muggle.
So, to summarise:
I think they have money, though I don't expect them to be super rich. I place them as an upper-ish middle-class. Like, they have disposable income and a very comfortable lifestyle, but they aren't the Malfoys or even the Blacks or Longbottoms (yes, I think the Longbottoms are pretty rich).
They might've been richer in the past, but by the 1990s they just don't give me the vibes that they are super rich, but they're doing well, yk?
They probably used to be a pureblood family around the 1700s
They may have started marrying in muggleborns/half-bloods between then and the 1930s or a Diggory angered Cantankerus Nott at some point.
They likely had a Wizengamot seat in the 1700 and it's very possible they still do.
Cedric is either pureblood or half-blood (his mom is a witch, but her blood status is unknown). Either way, he was raised very much like a pureblood with little to no muggle influences. I usually think of him as pureblood as it seems more likely to me.
#harry potter#hp#hp meta#asks#childofserpents#wizarding world#diggory family#cedric diggory#amos diggory#eldritch diggory#hollowedheadcanon#hp headcanon#hollowedtheory
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Heart of the Great Wolf
The Trials of Resurrection
Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader
Length: 34.5k
Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, insecurities, jealousy and possessive tendencies, smut, oral (f and m receiving), p in v, anal, m/m/f threesome (no m/m interactions)
Notes: How this came about I have no idea. This is a side story of what if Robb had been resurrected later in the main story. Don't ask how he comes back to life, I don't know pretend it makes sense. Series Masterlist Here
“At least one thing about our Queen hasn’t changed around here.”
Your eyes barley even twitched, let alone flickered up to look at the voice of the approaching figure. All you had heard for the better part of an hour had been the flickering of fire and the scratching of ink against the paper as you worked. The peace and quiet around you for so long had felt like a foreign concept in ways you truly had never once envisioned. Much of your life felt like that now.
Sighing deeply through your nose, you barley had even strayed from your writing whatsoever as you responded loud enough for you to be heard with your back to him. “If you mean how much paper work is involved in my day to day, then yes. Very little has changed except now I do it in the cold instead of the heat.”
The laugh was short and more like a bemused huff, but as he took a seat on the adjacent side of the desk you worked at, your eyes finally flickered up for a mere moment. An eyebrow raised at his still knowing expression before sighing deeper and returning to the page in front of you. “And you doing it in here, all the way on the other side of the castle is just a coincidence?” Your jaw clenched, eyes narrowing an an annoyance that you were so easily known by him. “I thought everything was going well.”
Your voice was low, and a bit on the heavy side saying more then you wished out loud. “Everything is fine. I simply have work I need to get done.” The moment he jested that you meant the work both in question would tell you that you didn’t need to do for them, you nearly dropped the quill in your hand onto the page if not for the splatter ruining what you had already done.
Some days now it was beginning to feel as if Theon knew all of you way too much at this point in your new lives. All three of your new lives.
“Feels like you should be happier then ever with this arrangement.” Muttering low under your breath that it was more complicated then that, Theon shrugged a shoulder. Leaning back into his chair with narrow eyes you knew were trying to figure something about without asking directly. “Alright. I’ll rephrase. It feels like everyone but you has gotten used to all this.”
That had you hesitate. Your eyes flickering up with a wider more genuine glance before darting back in front of you, that time both of you were well aware you were attempting to push away what you both knew was the looming point overhead of this discussion. “Well, if one were to begin adding up the strangest occurrences in my life, I’m not sure this would make it close enough to the top to stand out.”
Was that a lie? It felt like a lie. It all felt odd and wrong in your head. A world you now lived in as if you awoke one morning in the wrong life. Going to sleep one night, and in the middle you had been plucked right from your world into another. Close in matching and all the same but one detail which had the rippling effect of rattling out of place all which you finally thought made sense going forward. As if back in the world you fell asleep in, those were still seeking you out wondering how you disappeared and desperate to bring you back when you did not understand how to tell them you were in a world of a warped mirror of that same one.
It wasn’t as if it were a nightmare. No, not at all. But confusing, and one which left you stuck in the middle feeling as if you both were being torn in two separate directions. The other being your fear that your torn sides were harming the feelings of each separate one tearing you back and forth when that was never the intention. They knew that, but you also did not really know how they came about the arrangement that this became.
They had discussed it themselves. Both knew you well and neither wished for you to leave behind the memory of one trauma for the others so called selfish wants, but also did not wish to simply scorn the other with keeping what they once or currently have. You hadn’t slept that night, but in truth you wish you did. You hadn’t slept much at all since as well. For one reason or another, but this time was unique to the nightmares which normally acted as the source of your plague.
By now you simply went along with it, accepted it. You left the squabbling about it between them, but in times you just needed quiet was always when that doubt and questions came through you. In that silence you never seemed to get anymore, did the pricking inside your mind speak of things you did not deserve and would eventually ruin. None had given you reason to think it was heading in such a direction and yet you sat there thinking it. You always did when you were alone anymore.
What the cost was to either of them, and if the true plague was you for engaging in this plan created only for your sake. Without you there was no need for a plan, there was no need for the back and forth and tearing apart. No need to have caused what you cause and they simply could’ve existed in a better peace and not a sight of the issues which came thrown towards them. There should’ve been nothing but relief and happiness, but instead you stood in the middle offering the path of strife and conflict no matter what they argued wasn’t there.
You knew it wasn’t easy on either of them, and you couldn’t stop sitting there letting that self hatred flood you with a deep, impending guilt for being their source of harm. Theon had sat down with the words on his tongue still calling you a Queen, but you scarcely felt it anymore. A Queen shouldn’t have allowed this such a problem to come to pass. You wished you had said no to their proposal, you wished you had told them to go back and talk it out until a true solution was found that did not pit them against each other. You wished that you had just let them talk it out, while you slipped away into the dark and not returned. Allowing them to reunite without you there to poison the water by standing in the stream both their separate paths connected into.
Leaning forward, both forearms resting across the wooden surface did Theons brows narrow at you with his voice lower but with a sincerity tinged in an actual worry that time. “They don’t resent you for any of this you know.” Your hand paused in place as if to keep writing but the muscles froze as your heart picked up in a nerving manner. “They’re both doing what they think is best beacuse they care about you. There’s no reason to blame yourself, they’re men they knew what they were getting into when they decided-”
Without any regard for what you had even been working on, the topic slipping from your mind rapidly, you let the paper ruin as the ink scribbled meaninglessly across the page when you tossed it down. Pushing up from where you sat, you gave Theon what he knew was a half smile that was stilted and polite for the sake of it alone. “We both have other things to attend to then to sit here and talk, I’m certain.”
You didn’t even hear what he had said as you swiftly made your way, the need to not be followed nor bothered increasing as you walked the more silent corridors as evening begun to fall on Winterfell. You didn’t want to hurt either of them, that was the problem. But either choice you made, going along with what they came up with for your sake or leaving entirely to rid your presence as the only true problem of the equation was still harmful. It still hurt both, and all of it continued to be your own fault.
The tea sat steaming and warm in front of you, but your eyes still looked at it wearily.
“There’s nothing to worry about in there, your Grace. I assure you. Only simply herbs meant to soothe the body into a more calm state.” Your eyes flickered up to Maester Wolkan, whom only had a small smile come over his features as he sat at the seat across from you. The smaller table in his study sat by a window, closed and sealed for the winter storms, but small candles lit across the still reflected in the glass, making it appear brighter then the time would suggest. “I ask you trust me, if I could get away with giving you something stronger to accomplish such a task more effectively, I would have done so long ago.”
Your laugh as nothing more then a huff in your throat, but gently picking up the small cup the dark liquid sat in, you gently blew the hot air away just enough to let a small sip warmth the inside of your mouth and the scratching feeling as it trailed down your clawed throat. A deep sigh left you, eyes closing for as long as it took to move such a need for air before letting yourself have another smaller sip.
Setting it down, you had glanced up to Wolkan with that trepidation of a look you had appeared at his door with. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to say any of that to them, without making it all worse.”
Tilting his head a bit, Wolkan’s tone was light but also held a firmness which made him easy to convince yourself to listen too on matters twisted in your own head. “Now, what part of everything you’ve just told me is something you think either would want you to think, let alone try to convey to them?”
Brows furrowing, your head jilted back a little not at all grasping where he had been heading. “I apologize, you mean to say my second suggestion is the one I should-” Cutting you off with a much more stern tell of no, your shoulders deflated as you reached once more for the hot liquid. “It isn’t a completely unreasonable thing to-”
Again, Wolkan had much respect for you and your title, but little care to foster the darkness in your mind which all knew could fester as quick as could be. “Did the last time you ran off without notice end with positive results?” Your eyes met his, only to drop them flatly. Bringing the cup back to your lips, you mumbled into it as if to hide your words that it wasn’t the same thing. “It is, I am afraid. You think the opposite party is upset with you, you decide leaving is better then living in the delusion that you are a burden and not have a single idea what chaos such actions committed by yourself will leave behind for their own well being.”
Muttering once more into the tea, you at least felt a bit more of your muscles relaxing better then the almost painful agitation the tenseness in you had put them in for hours. “So what is your wise advice in place of my own foolish ones?”
“Everything is still relatively new, it needs time between everyone to get used to it. To let things settle into place and it will get easier the longer it goes on without adding to it with your guilt. A guilt, your grace, I assure you neither wish for you to feel.” You knew Wolkan had a good point, but the self hatred flowed through you like lava burning in the depths of a volcano. Do nothing was what he was saying, do what you’ve been doing for days, weeks now. But simply pretend as if it was not bothering you in the fear it was pushing each away from one another.
New life was granted to you, then him. That did not make sense to either of you in a comprehensible manner of possible, but it had and you both had been bonded because of it even beyond the love shared already. But now? Now it was too granted to another, and you had no idea how to contend with the contrast of both right in front of you, and not be in the way of their own time together they never had the chance to as the proper men they became.
Some nights you lost track of which it was, of who had who and you would simply find the one you meant to because the other made themself scarce so they did not have to see any of it. Both of them hated your time with the other and subjected themselves to a lonely night whenever it was not theirs and again, you hated it. Their solution was making them miserable, but you knew neither would have any of it if you protested it right now.
Though you were fairly certain you could put together whose night it was if it took you longer then normal to come across either of them. At this time of the evening as the people around the castle begun to settle in for the night, were you not already by Jons side he’d have long found you himself before you even had to consider looking for more then seconds of where he was without you.
Turning the corner though, there was the other. Leaning back against the table of the meeting hall, the lack of daylight sun hid away what of the red normally could be seen highlighted in its bright rays, leaving the dark brown you were accustomed too, curls luscious in a way you knew he woke up with much to your own dismay. No doubt his personal taste seemed to naturally match that of Jons, since aside from colour, the coarse and thick feeling of both facial hair matched the same style.
The only major difference was in small details. Still did Jon prefer darker greys and blacks contrasted to the browns and dark blues you were looking at now. Jons curls sat long, and could either be found shrouding his profile from the side from partial view or pulled back entirely. Instead of the dark brown curls you looked at sitting shorter, never needing much work at all, always the strands sat in the exact same way. He looked familiar in every way to the last you ever saw of him, but it wasn’t until he spoke and that warm voice made you, for a moment, forget what you had been worried about.
“Is there a reason you’re standing there watching me like a girl with a crush?”
Your eyes fell a bit amusingly flat as you slunk through the open door. Putting away the blade he was sharpening on his side, the wet stone being sat on the table behind him did he watch with bright blue eyes and a smirk for you to come to him as he always knew you would. Your voice a bit on the air of defensive and childish. “I think I’ve long since passed that phase of my life.”
Raising an eyebrow, his playful smirk grew more into a bright, charming grin as he was as amused of you as if no hint of the overcast in your head was weighing on you for hours before right now. By the time you got close enough, he reached a hand out. Yours delicately placed in his as he pulled you with grace in front of him.
Hands moving to your hips as he stood up straighter, your own trailed along the leathers across his chest with a light sigh to get out the remainder of tense feeling which may give yourself away. His tone however, gave you new thoughts to focus on with a different kind of sigh. “The way you’re looking at me, it never left.”
Yes it seemed new life had granted Robb Stark with an insatiable need to playfully mock you at any moment.
Attempting to childishly pull away, Robb only tugged you back without any care of the force as his grin shined bright. The gentle mutter towards you that there was nothing to be ashamed of was meant as a teasing jest, but you knew it struck at something inside of you. Unstable the mixture of shame and guilt, but before you could allow such things to flare up again, you merely swallowed as your head tilted. As if to indicate that he had a point, whether or not you actually believed him.
Gently calling our your name, Robb leaned down a bit as if to catch your eyes with more of a scrutinizing gaze inside his own. “Whats going on in that head of yours?”
It was too early, Wolkan had said. Give it time, don’t weigh either of them down with any of this before it had a chance to fall into that of a routine. Shaking your head, you let your fingertips dance up behind the back of his neck, the feeling of his curls grazing along your skin that you could toy with. Your smile was not quite bright, but hopefully as believable as it could with the comforting feeling of being so close to him again. “A long day is all.” Without missing a beat did Robb begin saying that you didn’t need to do all of those things when you cut him off with a more indignant feeling behind it. “Don’t you start. I get enough of this lecture from Jon as it is.”
The smirk on Robbs face twitched to life in front of you. “Perhaps between the two of us, we can actually make you listen for once then.” Almost letting your eyes roll to the side, knowing he could pick up the tinge of playfulness within the gesture behind the annoyance. Running his hands along your waist and hip firmly, you could feel him indiscriminately pull you a bit closer. “Now, are you sure that’s the only thing on your mind?”
You nodded, and in a way you felt bad. Robb returned to you and found a stranger, a hollow shell of the woman he loved and no longer could he pick up on the new, very well hidden details that one may recognize as lying. You didn’t want to blatantly lie to him, and it did not sit well in your stomach to do so, but you wanted to avoid hurting his feelings at all. So, you could at least hide the degree of it from Robb for now. Pretend what was bothering you wasn’t and he’d not bring it up again thinking for now there was nothing more on the matter to look into.
Pulling you into his side, Robb was just as he used to be in that way. Keeping you so physically close in front of anyone with not a care about the public display of the affectionate nature within him. Sensing however his eyes on you, you looked up to the side at him with the question of what coming from you in an amused way he was so closely looking at you without stopping his feet. His answer was at least, something amusing rather then painted over with any hurt of jealousy. “Does he purposely use the same oils on you that he does to wash his hair?”
Eyes narrowing in thought, you mostly shrugged the free shoulder not pressed to his side. “It’s not impossible. I don’t think I’ve really noticed what he uses.”
A grunt came from deep in Robbs chest, pulling you more purposely close so his hand wrapped around you could trail back to your hips rather then the more appropriate spot on your waist. You could swear you heard something indiscernible on his lips close to something of a curse no doubt towards the brother in question.
For your mind however, it did not come off as the sort of competitive jealousy it really was. Warped by the confusion and self doubt within yourself, you took it as a sign to stop letting it happen. If it was going to upset Robb, you’d ask Jon to return to using one that doesn’t remind his brother of him. There were a lot of little things like that to get used too.
Your day to day in Winterfell as a wife had never properly been with Robb, and you didn’t want to rub it in his face by not changing certain things to accommodate him or include him. You didn’t want to shut either of them out by being so blatant in front of the other, but it still was all you did. All you thought about for every hour of the day was whether or not you needed to do something different, or if you were reading too much into a certain reaction. Few thoughts came to you outside of this arrangement and it was quickly turning into a dark obsession brewing with an insecure self hatred.
Robbs chambers were always warm. He had rich coloured fabrics draped everywhere that soaked up all of the cold and kept it out of the room. It was the largest of the Starks chambers aside from the Lords quarters where his father and mother previously lived in. He preferred however, keeping you in here. The room as Robb had put it, muttering in your ear as he had been slowly pulling the laces of your dress loose one by one, that this was also the room he fucked you for the first time.
Even now, it was difficult for Robb to see passed it. Your time together as one in this room was only twice, but it also were your only times together living in Winterfell as man and wife before war and before..everything that followed war. Very often when the door would close, Robb did not hesitate to at least, indulge his eyes. Tonight being no different.
Before you could get far, Robb grabbed your hips and kept you standing in place, your back facing his front. His hands rose up, undoing the laces slowly but with a strong grip. Ensuring you felt everytime he pulled one to it’s loosest form and knowing eventually it would draw the fabric to the ground. The warm rumble of his voice matched his chambers, accent thick as the fabrics and furs and just as comforting in your ear too. Regardless if teasing was what it was doing. “I have a question. Did you have a hand in designing these dresses yourself, or was this sort of thing Jons doing too?”
Your brows narrowed, trying to think of what he meant in truth and only coming up with the most outright logic bound of an answer. “By the time he reclaimed Winterfell, I didn’t have anything. I had no possessions and anything I wore was what the Boltons gave to me to wear.” You felt for only a moment, Robbs hand tug roughly open one of the laces down your back with an unintended force of anger.
Coming back knowing Roose Boltons betrayal of he and you both was one thing for Robb, hearing what fate he forced you into after you came back was another. In truth, you did what you did with Jon. You told him far less of the worst of it, you didn’t want either being angry or guilty for something neither could change for two men long since dead now.
Regardless, you continued on to attempt to draw Robb back to the present. Away from a tormented past he could not stop not did you wish for him to dwell on. “Jon helped me acquire most of the things I have now, because I had barely the clothes on my back. And even then, the only things I even had before then were either what I could get from Castle Black, or what Maege provided.”
The fabric on your upper body begun to fall suddenly, intending to pool around your stomach had you not reached up to hold it against yourself. Robbs hands slid in front of you to undo the belt keeping it all up. You knew the moment his hands reached to your upper back and dug into the fabric as his nails tapped at your skin, he was giving you an order to let go. The dress falling in one piece to pool by your feet, the shift on you short, and a pure white with straps holding it around your shoulders thin enough little force could tear it.
Robb let his hands trail further, a free exploration behind you with his voice much more heavy then before, thick with a desire that all this time later, did not fail to shake your bones. “My brother has clothes made for you, and this is what he came up with? These pretty,” One boot tapping at your shin, indicating he wished for you to step out of it. Each word shaking with the two kicks it took from Robb to get the fabric away from where you stood continuing. “Weightless scraps of nothing? You didn’t chose these?”
It made sense he noticed it. The only dresses Robb knew of you to wear were before, much more fancy and ornate dresses which required far more steps and sometimes more then just yourself to even assemble them on you. Layers and steps none of them were so shameless save for the dress made for your wedding. You had not had a hand in making that either though, much like everything about your visit in Winterfell with the Kings Company, every part of how you were painted up and dressed was orchestrated by Cersei. You’d have chosen a dress much more heavy and modest were it not her choice what it looked like.
Other then that, you both spent most of your time at war. You couldn’t afford to dress like a lady out there and you both had gotten so very used to it as what you appeared like. This was much more what you used to dress like, but not quite as complicated in putting together as far as dresses went. Robb had different views of it then you did though. “Does he realize just about anyone could walk by and reveal how little it takes to see you nearly bare?”
Smoothing his palms over your shoulders, under each hand did you feel him hook one of the thin straps of your shift with a finger, but keeping it right there as if to let you know he could tug this off any time he wished. Swallowing roughly, your voice was on the edge of breathless as he kept you standing there for as long as he commanded it. “It’s not-it isn’t-”
Leaning over your shoulder, the scratch of Robbs facial hair ran down your jaw as his lips hovered over your neck. “Oh I know exactly what it is. He had you all to himself, why not enjoy every bit of it whenever he wants?” Very suddenly did both straps get pulled down your arms. The fabric of your shift falling with it as Robb moved from your neck to look over you from where he stood behind. A hiss in his throat came out as his hands spared no time roughly grasping at your ass, a gasp jolting you in place. Moving up to your ear with much more of a biting tone. “You’re the same no matter who fucks you. Just a good girl waiting to be told what to do.”
One hand circled around to your front, sliding down your lower stomach to your mound, fingers dancing across right above where you wanted but never even considered begging. Only a nod as if to just agree with whatever he said, no matter what it was.
The smile you felt as his lips ran down your neck was more sinister then it was anything. “Tell you to get on your hands and knees,” Sliding down his touch to your clit almost had toy jump despite the feather lightness he kept over it. The hand on your ass now grasping firmly at your hip, still a biting tone in your ear. “Tell you to swallow every drop my cock feeds you.” A little more pressure and your leg muscles felt tense standing there with so little despite such vivid images we could conjure. “I could tell you I’m going to gag you so you can’t whine at me when it’s too much, and what would you do?” The laugh that time was far more noticeably dark with purpose. “That’s right, you’d still let me.”
Pressing down harder, the pressure against your clit sent sparks through you, flying up into your core with a warmth that buzzed at you like a bee. Running tight circles, he spared no reason to build you up slowly, letting his free fingers tease down along your entrance as he smirked once more at how quickly he could work you up. Grasping at his forearm, Robb took the opportunity to pull you firmly into his chest, still fully dressed against how bare you now were. Each pattern tormented on your clit made you tense back into his support as the need filled you.
Barley finding the breath to let out your only thought. “Is that what you want tonight?”
Two fingers stopped their movement put pressed harsh against the bundle of nerves as he looked over your shoulder again. “Is what the thing I want? To gag you?” Biting down on your tongue you nodded, but Robb let his hand on your hip reach to tilt your head back in a stretch to better meet his narrow eyes as they glistened with something teasingly cruel. “Wouldn’t have to hear you go on when you pretend like you don’t have anymore in you. Nothing but muffled whines instead of your pretty begs telling me to stop when we both know you don’t mean it.” His other fingers toyed down in the wetness you could so easily coat them with should he give you more, but they were positioned in pause like a threat, or promise.
With Robb it could go in either direction.
Almost a plea came breathless from you as if to sweeten the idea he was already putting forth with honey. “You could do whatever you want, and I’d be powerless to stop you.”
You could almost see the way Robb would raise an eyebrow in question as his voice rattled deep. “You think you can stop me now?” You had barley opened your mouth to protest that idea in need when Robb proved his own point. Those two thick fingers sunk deep inside of you, sliding to the knuckle as he had so knowingly dragged them along the sensitive wall causing you to arch back into his chest. Robb only laughed. Your core burned as you knew your wetness would only increase the longer he stayed there without movement. Or with, truly. Either one. “There’s nothing you can say that will make me stop when I’m with you. You beg and beg and never mean it, beacuse all you really want is to be fucked, isn’t that right?” Biting down harder, your eyes fluttered closed as you nodded. His grip on your chin tightening as if to signal you to open back to the room. “If I tied you to the bed right now and gagged you, how long would it take you to start whining against it for me to touch you? I’m betting not long.”
Ever so slowly did Robb pull his fingers as if to leave you but just as slowly let them drag right back up as you felt that warmth fill you in a jolt against him with a desire twisting and twisting so suddenly. You didn’t give him an answer, you knew this was not one of those discussions he wanted an answer. Robb asked and Robb would tell, you had to stand there and be good.
“I could cover your eyes. Make you wait and wait.” The hand on your chin slid down, pressing against your stomach for a moment as his eyes blazed before running them back in tight patterns against your sensitive clit. “Would you even know whose cock it was if we made no noise? You’d be laying there, not a clue if I was fucking you, or if it was Jon. Or who knows, maybe I left my door open and anyone could come in and have their way with you. Laid out like a feast for every man whose ever looked at you.”
Your head felt dizzy, something coursing through your veins making you weak as all the blood pooled in your middle. The coil in you twisting and turning leaning back against Robb the only thing keeping you standing. Unsure if you truly knew what you were saying, it left your lips like a sigh of need anyways. “I, I can handle it, I promise.”
Robbs laugh was dark, almost bringing your hooded, fluttering eyes back into the room as he his fingers alone felt so good dragging themselves inside of you as you clenched around them. “If only Jon understood what a needy little whore he was married too. How many men do you think would have fucked you by the time he realized what I was doing? What you let me do? Two? Five? Give every one of my men out there whose ever fantasized about you a chance, only your cunt doesn’t cost them a single thing.”
You clenched around his fingers, one leaving your clit to nearly shove in more roughly beside as a third, your legs shook needing to move a bit wider to give him space. A hand on your waist steadying you did not leave your clit for long, right and rough he ran over the bundle of nerves in tandem to how his fingers steadily increased the speed in which Robb thrust them in and out of you. Your wetness coating his fingers and making it painfully easy for him to sink as deep as he could get each time no matter how much he needed to go rough to get passed how tight you were clenched around him.
Robb however, refused to stop. A shine in his eyes knowing his words were soaking you as much as his touch inside of you was. Moving up to your ear with a bite before muttering into it with a bass vibrating through your body. “How quickly do you think he’d kill every single man who touched you? Would he untie you, pick you up in his arms and whisk you away like a valiant knight? Or would he take you then and there when he was done? Refuse to let you cum and leave you that way at my mercy to punish you?”
Small gasps came from your lips, eyes firmly closed unable to handle the world beyond his touch and voice as your nails dug into his forearm. “Robb, please..”
Tight, rough circles against your clit stood no chance against how deep his fingers thrusted deep inside of you, how each drag against your soaking sensitive walls waved again and again a dizzying pleasure twisting your insides until they were ready to snap. Biting down on your ear with a husking mutter thick in the manner he forced such words out. “Please what? Please let my men use your cunt like a whore, or does my girl want to cum finally?” Your nod was not an answer despite how much you thought it was. “Be specific. Say what you want and you can have it.”
Begging quiet and breathless, you were trapped against the edge of a cliff as every muscle in your body tensed being kept right there to be pushed off at any moment. Your only words the rawness in your head could even really hear, you felt as if you barley even understood the filth he threatened you with beyond wanting whatever he was to do with you. But he asked, and he required one answer. “Please let me cum, please Robb, please I’ll be good..”
Resting more against your front, Robb barley had to do any work to push you off that edge. He never let up his fingers both dragging in and out of you and the rough tough against your clit as you snapped and your blood both heated and cooled over. That coil twisting as you pleaded his name but he just kept the same pressure against you through it. Wanting to gasp for air you did not have as the coil snapped and burst like stories told of stars in the night sky.
Low mutters of curses hissed in your ear as you clenched around him tightly as you came. Aftershocks ceasing only a little bit as he moved from your clit to push your stomach more to force you back into his touch against you. Slowing his fingers until you had nothing left to soak him with that time. Dragging them out, Robb did not ask with any kindness.
The hand jumping to your lip, his thumb forced your mouth open and he sunk his three obscenely soaked fingers deep into your mouth. A whine left at the deep pressure but he used your mouth like he would when sinking his cock into it. Muttering for you to suck him clean, your heart pounded at how much you wanted more, an unhinged need burning through you as your mind had yet to clear of its dizzy haze. Grabbing at his wrist did nothing, Robb only shoved them in deeper while his other hand sunk down to again grasp roughly at your ass.
“That’s right. Every last bit of it, you know the rules.” Eyes closed you nodded, accepting the taste you wished didn’t have to be you but took without protesting anyways. The mercy only came when Robb felt the hint of a gag at how deep he pushed them into your mouth and let you gasp for air, traces of your own wetness and saliva coating your lips, not that your mind even allowed you the time to care of how it looked.
Which to Robb, was deviously perverse. Not even anything but his fingers and still your voice came out a bit strained, “I- you’re still..I need to..”
The haze was hard to discern what you meant, but Robb knew perfectly well. Waiting a moment for you to even stand up straight, your legs shook a bit from the sudden force he pulled your orgasm out with. Turning you to face him, you looked a needy mess already you knew and chest heaved trying to use the air to ground you. But Robb cupped the side of your cheek and part of your jaw to tilt you to look up at him. Blue eyes dark and serious and no room to disobey. “Get this all off of me.”
You nodded, swallowing down the moan of need still shaking through you. Nowhere near as steady as you wanted to be, piece by piece did everything come off of Robb before you had too freed his cock, thick and long enough even if he wasn’t already hard as could be it would be impressive. Your knees was the easiest to take his boots and breeches off but staying there at least the floor did not spin in tandem to your clit begging for more. Robb had no qualm with filling the silence. “If I were nice, I’d let you have a taste. But does my girl deserve my cock in this mouth?”
Biting your lip for a moment as you inhaled through your nose, you found more then just a scrap of a voice of something sweet and pleading without being begging. “I want it, but I don’t deserve it.” Asking with dark eyes why not, you didn’t have an answer but what you know was the only answer Robb was willing to take. “I wasn’t good.” Again, unmoving, unblinking he asked this time how. Your hands sitting in your lap, nails digging into the skin of your other hand to not touch before allowed. That time he wanted an answer, but you hesitated. Wide eyed looking up to his beautiful vibrant blue ones and you didn’t really know what the correct answer was, but you didn’t want to give the wrong one or lie. He’d know if you lied here of all times.
Instead, he gave pity. A hand running through your hair before his thumb again traced across your lips. “Unless you’ve been begging my name when you’re with him, you’ve been bad for almost three weeks straight.” Biting your lip, your eyes cast downward. The need and heat within you and the wetness coating your inner thighs felt off compared to the shame and genuine guilt you knew Robb did not mean to give you. “And I know first hand, you aren’t doing that.” Tilting your guilty gaze up to him by your jaw, if he picked up on how genuine the shame appeared he did not comment on it. “You beg Jons name like you were born to, don’t you? Pretty little begs too, can barley hear them over the rest of the noise.”
Gesturing with a nod of his head for you to move to stand, he grabbed your hands and helped you onto your feet before capturing your jaw, pulling you up to look at his narrow stare of a greedy disapproval. “Tell me, does my brother fuck you he's some animal? Something to shove his cock into and fuck like it doesn’t matter if he breaks you? You know how rough I am with you, my love. So why are you letting him be the one to fuck you like you’re some cheap five copper whore in the brothel outside?”
Hovering over your lips, Robb’s voice was angry and yet you knew his cock almost leaked with seed as it throbbed heavy between his legs. “Robb, I-”
Shaking his head you felt his lips brush yours with every hot spitting word. “That isn’t your fault he treats you that way. But you’re not married to some brute in a whorehouse are you? You’re married to a wolf. To two wolves. So why doesn’t my whore of a wife get on the bed so her wolf can take her like she deserves?” You nodded, and Robb had the audacity to smirk. “Good girl.”
Striking eyes watched as you sat gently on the bed. Only for a moment did you have to think about it, with Robb, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. But you almost forgot this was what he liked in truth, if you willingly climbed on the bed moving into such a position with Jon, you know he would nearly yank you off it and growl at you not to assume you should be doing things like that just for him. But Robb?
For the wolf saying he was going to show you love, you knew it was pure dark greed as he stared at your ass. Hands and knees just the way he liked, climbing up on the bed one knee at a time, he ran a hand down your spine whilst grabbing the other hip firmly. “He ever fuck you like this?”
You weren’t really sure if Jon would want you sharing those specific details, considering the only times you both had ever been in this position, Jon had pushed you down himself to roughly pound his cock deep into your ass. Biting you lip as a shiver ran through you that Robb no doubt felt, you shook your head no, keeping it simple.
Not able to see his reaction, all you had was the pleased lightness hinted in his voice. “That’s right. I fuck you like this, I control if you even get to fucking move.” Sliding the hand on your spine down until Robb reached the back of your neck. Twisting around to grasp at your throat, the air coming through to your lungs gasping in shock at the pressure to slightly stop it. “I bet he doesn’t even know what it feels like to fuck you, knowing how tight you get for me when I don’t even let you breath right before you cum.” Letting go, Robb no doubt kneeled straighter as one hand left you as he kept you steady. “This is why you need me. He has no idea how what to do with such a slutty little wife. But I do.”
Before you even had the word to beg his name, did Robb not at all gently slide inside of you. Soaking around, your thighs shook at the deepness and the stretch so suddenly. Both hands grasped your hips, and Robb didn’t give you the thought to consider his worth of mercy. Sliding back out slowly, leaving only the tip still inside of you before he slid back in deep and just as rough. A cry left you as a growl left Robb.
Robb had to fuck you harshly just to get as deep. You clenched around him like you were still the virginal maiden he ruined on your wedding night. If he had a clue what a little slut he had just married, Robb would’ve not even considered letting you sleep that night. He’d have taken you every single way he could think off. Cover every inch of you with his seed and teach you how to take his cock nice and deep that very night.
Slamming his cock into you roughly over and over, grunts forced from him each time as the sound of his skin against yours echoed in the room, only driving him to go harder. He should’ve, he thought. Should’ve kept his new wife naked, make you get on your knees and keep his cock in your mouth until you could take his whole length. If Robb could go back to that night knowing what you really were, he would’ve eviscerated every purpose of prayer you gave to the Maiden in hours.
Cries left you easily, head half hidden in the pillow you couldn’t contain it, each smack of his hips into your ass, you felt Robbs length slide deep and drag against your walls with a meanness. Never letting up never giving you time to adjust to his roughness, the moment you tried to meet his thrusts, Robb forced you further into the bed. Now more on your elbows he had your ass higher in the air at a better angle to pound inside of you. Your lungs burned with no air to ease it, and your insides screamed as a coil twisted like hot metal. Each pound radiating through you with a white hot pressure building and building.
The sound was obscene. Each smack of his hips pounding inside of you and how they increased with speed as they did echo louder, but too were you soaking around him. The wet sound drawing guttural groans from Robb only prompting him to go faster, the faster it was the louder the sound played as music would in a feasting hall. Trying to cry his name you had no words out, but Robb had plenty hissing through gritted teeth. “Fill your needy cunt, then I’ll fill it again. Beacuse you’re so fucking needy aren’t you, my love? You need my cock inside you more then anything.” He watched you try to nod from how your muscles no longer were able to hold yourself up. “Oh fuck, you’re such a perfect little slut, a good girl with the sluttiest cunt a man could ask for.”
“Robb..”
Leaving a bit of the roughness behind, Robb increased the pace, the room louder and louder and much more violent sounding as he growled at you whereas you did noting but beg for him. “That’s right, let everyone hear whose doing this to you. Let my men know that no one makes you beg and cry like this the way I do.”
Again and again you cried out his name and each in tandem with the way his cock sunk deep inside of you. Throbbing as you clenched around him, tears so easily falling down your cheeks but nothing mattered as long as again and again Robbs cock filled you with such a stinging pleasure that you would feel even as you fell asleep.
One hand reaching down to roughly seek your clit, treating it rough through his fingers you gasped out something much more of a desperate sob as suddenly it felt as if the waves came crashing through the walls and inside of you. Snapping around him, cunt clenching so hard around his cock Robb had to return to something rough enough he had to grunt through each pound.
But he didn’t stop, a grunt turned groan of your name did Robb sink deep spilling warm inside of you, but all he did was yank you back the second you thought he was done. “I said I’d fill you twice, didn’t I?”
By the time he pulled out of you, you all but collapsed onto the furs. Leaving for only a moment, Robb returned prying your legs open. Shushing gently at your whines while he let a wet cloth run between you to clean you up. Climbing behind you, Robb tugged your back into his chest. Pulling your hair from your neck out of his way. His lips pressed down the path of your neck and back up to your ear muttering your name.
A hmm gentle in your throat as you snuggled back into the feeling of his bare body behind you, Robb pulled you closer if possible. “I’m going to take you one more time later, alright? You’ll be asleep, but I’ll be nice and slow just for you. I promise.” You nodded, finding comfort in his hand running along your bare hip.
“Anything you want, my love. Anything..” You were breathless and fading fast, but the press of Robbs lips hit your cheek before the world ceased to be around your slumber.
Those who were not used to such a sight considered it odd, but if one were to add up the total amount of people whom had not been long accustomed to this side of the pair, it was precisely one. Not that you had awareness of it to his side of things, but you were preoccupied. Locked in a discussion with Arya that early morning and had not seen the narrowing blue eyes which had tore themselves up from you to the just as watchful, yet angry grey ones behind you.
Bright hours of the sun rising up beyond the clouds, did you find yourself unable to go back to sleep. It felt as if something was missing, it had for this entire time. Not just the occurrence of Robb being back in your life, but you for every night since kept having strange dreams. They were hazy and unclear, often jumping from one ambiguous image to another. Sometimes surrounded by flames, others in a bright frozen cold but all of it was a blurry story your dreams were not forthcoming on.
But like so many nights, you had nearly startled yourself awake. Faint sounds of higher pitched cries rang through your head right before your eyes opened, as if something was calling to you that did not exist in the real world around you. The yearning for something close to stop the sound but you had nothing to articulate why it kept bothering you. It was only a dream, forget about it. So you had crawled from bed early, needing the sting of the cold morning air to shake it off and here you sat.
You were perfectly fine with laying it loose for the day, but the moment as you sat down did Jon follow into the hall not long after did your hair change. Whatever tenseness existed on his shoulders left the moment your eyes lit up looking over to him. Uncaring in front of Arya of all people, did Jon come up to you on your same side of the table. Not even sitting down, but leaning over as both hands tilted your head up and back so he could lean down to meet your lips.
A raspy mutter only for your ears, “You’re mine today.” Before connecting his lips to kiss you. Perhaps a bit longer lasting and deeper then he intended, only drawing back at the clearing throat of Arya as if to tell him to do this elsewhere. Pulling back Jon pressed a kiss to your forehead before comfortably sitting beside you close. Glancing up with an amused brow raised at this baby sister. “You’re welcome to leave.”
The small bit of bread in her hand was tossed at him with no regard for manners, Jon hardly moving out of the way with a smirking grin of his own as Arya used a tone much more overly exaggerated then needed. “We were having a nice discussion until you got here.”
Jon begun, without even thinking, to grab food for himself and occasionally tossing something to add to your plate. Hardly bothering to meet your eyes peeling over at him in a playful silent protest that he’d simply gesture with the fork for you to get going already. Himself not getting very far in eating on his own, you knew he had glanced to you more then once before he muttered in a lull of quiet. “You don’t normally keep it completely loose.”
Brows furrowing before following his eyeline to your hair, you shrugged, speaking between small bites you returned to. Keeping the story simple, no matter the scrutinizing eyes Jon could look at you with and see between the half lies. “I woke up early. I didn’t have much in the way of energy to be willing to do anything about it.” Arya piping up in an understanding tone thats why she preferred keeping hers on the shorter side from now on, much easier to handle by herself.
Jon however, looked at you for a long moment. A few bites of his food shoved into his mouth before he stood up, motioning for you to sit up straighter. Despite Arya’s curious eyes, you hardly thought anything of it. Standing behind you now, Jon begun moving your hair around into small braids, knowing exactly which styles you preferred and what your long length finally could allow him to do. Styles he hadn’t seen on you since you were both teenagers before you started cutting it shorter then most girls.
But here, he stood behind you doing it for you as if a normal task for a man called King to do for his wife, but neither you nor Jon thought anything of it. You wanted your hair more up, Jon wanted to run his fingers through your hair and always found an excuse to do so naturally. It was that sight walked in on that caused a silent staring between brothers as yourself and Arya missed it entirely.
Was jealousy the right word? It would be easy to put forth that a jealous man such as Robb Stark watched you with his brother and felt jealous, but it seemed reductive. Pinning his issue down to one single trait rather then an amalgamation of events and thoughts which were growing and growing. It was simply being a Northern man that made his difficult demeanor appear as if it were simply angry and cold. If any could see through it to what was going on, it was you, but the secret held between brothers was how much they kept it from you.
In their minds, they had torn you in two without meaning to do so. Two sides of your heart and neither of them were less then the other but things were vastly different now. Robb and Jon both had dived head first into what was to be done with their titles and kingdom between them. They worked well with each other, but they had been prepared to do so all their lives growing up. Work and rule at each others side and the two of them enjoyed it.
But you were something else. You were the rogue in the equation which threw everything off about it. Probably more then anything else did they attempt to find a solution, or a compromise that would least hurt the other, and most of all, prevent making it hard on you. Yet there posed something which had gone unspoken, but was impossible to ignore or avert ones eyes from. Over the passed weeks it was Robb who had noticed it’s extent. Of course on one side was you.
You had died with Robb. Side by side in betrayal you and him had left the world together. There was no way to turn a blind eye to the effect that had on you coming back. A year spent trapped within the grasp of the Boltons and you had little else to you but to obsess over the manner which you had never really been able to mourn that death. Yes you had sat in a cell alone for months, and spent many more in these very halls, but none of that was a life. You were not a person then, you were not truly alive then.
Thus no one could deny the impact bringing Jon back had on you. No one around you at any moment understood how that changed you. How it tethered you to him, made him your purpose. No one, not even you truly understood the degree to which you needed him. Jons new life owed everything to you, but your new life was nothing without him still there. And it was not just love it brought between you.
Robb was the one who could look at Jon and truly notice what was different. He was many things with you, but the one word he knew he had no reason to attribute towards himself, was controlling. Yes, he would take charge when necessary, but you were your own and he did not watch you as if to make sure you were doing what you were too stubborn to do for yourself. You were bad at taking care of yourself in unique ways, but Robb found little reason then and now to dwell so heavily on it beacuse if you needed help, he was there. You were your own person otherwise.
But Jon? As Robb sat down beside Arya and across from you, did he think to himself, that you being the one to bring Jon back, had made him a controlling man towards you. His eyes it felt were always either on you, or seeking you out, or his mind would obsess over you not being there. Always pestering you to do this and that. Watching what you ate as if you were a child who needed to be reminded to finish their food when that was never an issue you needed help with before. What were you doing, where you were, telling you outright when to stop beacuse he would force you to give yourself a break. Jon had a good mind for leadership, and somehow still held enough room for the other side of his head to consistently have something inside of him obsessing over you.
Of course Robb was still getting used to this new arrangement, but sending you off to Jon didn’t make him mad. It was something he had to accept, and he was coming to that point. Jon wasn’t. It did not take an expert to realize that Jon hated being away from you. Hated was almost too simple, he very clearly, utterly despised it. Robb almost wondered how little Jon was sleeping when you weren’t at his side.
There had been a morning not long ago where the sun had barley even been high enough that any light glowed inside the windows when Robb had slightly stirred awake. The door to his chambers closed and he was alone in the bed, and had assumed you woke early and slipped out for whatever reason. It wasn’t until later when you emerged seeming as if you had woken not long ago with Jon right at your side, did it occur to him.
Robb had his nights, but Jon’s night he claimed at the start of the day. Not saying a word but he had no doubt his brother had struggled to sleep without you, came creeping into Robbs chambers and gently scooped you up from his bed and brought you back to his, just so he could get some sleep with you beside him in the early morning. As if he needed you more then he needed anything else.
Watching now as Jon smoothed over the back of your hair he had done for you in a way he knew Jon personally liked, Robb caught his eyes again and the word came to him as strange as it felt to say about Jon of all people.
Possessive. Jon was extremely possessive of you and both brothers knew it.
“This is not the path, you know.” Glancing at you with a bemused smile, you knew he was avoiding answering what wasn’t even posed as a question. An exaggerated sigh left you alongside a grin you were unable to wipe off before he noticed. “It isn’t like you to keep secrets.”
Jon held a charming smirk across his face that brightened his eyes, but maintained a steady voice as if unaffected. “I’m not keeping secrets from you.” That time you were the one to raise an eyebrow with a silence demanding he explain himself. Jon though, was much more talented at keeping the ruse then you were. Taking advantage of the darker, empty corridor Jon leaned over to grab you and pull you in further to his side. One hand sliding across your hips and over your lower back keeping a hand pressed there on your spine. “Maybe I just want time with you to myself.”
You had meant it when you said it with such a casual tease. “You can have that whenever you want.”
Jon was quick though when he said what he said. “Can I?” Pausing mid step you looked over at him with lips parted slightly in question. Turning to face you better, he let the hand on your lower back encompass your hip as his other hand joined too. Your own reached forward, digging slightly into the belt around him keeping his weapons strapped to his side, but your fingertips at his front. Rasping low, Jon leaned down to catch your eyes. “When was the last time I had you to myself? Really had you?”
Opening and closing your mouth a few times, you ended up biting your tongue as your head hung slightly between you. There wouldn’t be any hiding Jon noticing the guilt festering within you, he saw everything with better clarity then you did. The excuse was hardly even an excuse, more just a rationalization to yourself. “I don’t want to be just leaving you alone.”
Tilting your head up to meet his gaze, two knuckles under your chin, Jon let his thumb reach out to stroke what of your cheek he could reach. A softness was in his eyes despite what you knew he must be feeling. “I know that. Doesn’t change that I miss you though.” Nodding, Jon only pulled you close by that same grasp before leaving a kiss lingering on your forehead. Pulling you in closer, Jon waited for you to wrap your arms around him before he did you. One around your back keeping you close, the other up around near your head like a protective measure as he pulled you into his neck by the back of your hair, murmuring into it. “We all have to get used to it, darling. I don’t want you upset by this and neither does Robb, but it’ll take time.”
Your voice was muffled, but he heard you without question. “None of this means I love you less.” Jon only chuckled, the hand around your back soothingly moving up and down a bit as you tried if possible to bury yourself in his touch more. “I don’t know how to do this. How to balance both of you..and without hurting either of you.”
The kiss left to the side of your head was gentle, as was his hand now smoothing down your hair, while his other hand stopped. “You’re not hurting anyone.” Your silence spoke of doubt, and using a grip of the back of your neck, Jon moved your head to seek your forehead once more. A kiss pressed before leaning down so his pressed to yours. The hand in your hair still smoothing along the strands. “You’ve been through enough, I don’t want you worrying about me and Robb. I’ll talk to him-”
Pulling back, your hands ended up on his sides almost meekly keeping him at bay. “No, Jon it’s fine. I should be able to handle this on my own.” Brows narrowing a little, as the painting in his eyes spoke of a gentleness seeped in worry. “I promise.” You both knew he would not keep you to that one, but he ran his thumb along your cheek anyways as if he was agreeing.
Leaning in closer, Jon nudged your nose with his. A low rasp murmuring in an entrancing manner for you to unconsciously lean closer into him. “Do you want to know the real reason I took you down here?” Muttering in a joke, you asked if it was beacuse he likes taking the long way out of being stubborn, but he only laughed gently. His warm breath dancing across your skin as he ran his hand down your hair at the side of your head, nudging your nose with his a little more as if to move you into a better position for what he wanted. “I took you this way, because I refuse to wait until tonight to have you to myself.”
Your eyes only fluttered open long enough for Jon to tilt your head up to a better angle, letting them return to closed the second he leaned down to connect his lips to yours. Soft and sweet he always kissed you with, no matter how rough everything else was, you could always count on Jons kiss being something that sent a floating feeling in your stomach awry. Just as he guided your lips to follow his lead, did Jon use his grasp at your hip to turn you.
Backing you up merely a few feet, he was gentle about how he pressed you into the wall. Cupping the back of your neck, Jon pressed up against you firmly making you have to tilt up even more to reach him. Your hands running up his chest and around the back of his neck. What of his curls you could feel from how he had pulled his hair all the way back did you toy with, your nails scratching at what skin you could manage.
Small nibbles to your bottom lip that went nowhere, soothing them with his kiss, Jon left your hip to cup your cheek and jaw, so front and back he had a hand to tilt you to his mercy no matter what. Down here nothing could be heard in such an empty area of hall, only the laboured breathing between kisses was heard along with whatever faint sounds you were unable to hold back. Each little cry of need or half a whine was let out into his mouth, to Jon it sounded and felt like you gifted him something.
Each cry from you into his lips were better then any music any could conjure for him. A creature of magic could appear before him, tell him he could have the best of song and instrument composed just for him and none of it would ever be better then what he could pull from you with his mere touch. Subtly shifting his knee out, Jon ever so carefully moved it so he begun dragging up the skirt of your dress until he could reach a hand down and snatch it.
Pulling it up to rest at your hip, your leg exposed somewhat to the parts dragged up your leg. One of your hand fell down to grab somewhat at his shoulder, as if that would be enough of any indication to Jon to put it back down to a modesty. No one was around, but you knew Jon. You knew someone being at risk of catching you both in such a position was never a true fear for him, not anymore. The times you had almost been come across in much more public places then here.
All of your time with Jon before was shrouded in the darkness. Never to be seen or heard from if he could help it, and when and where to withhold such behaviour was something you both had become somewhat of experts at. It was why being with Robb was so different feeling. He had not a scrap of reason to withhold what he felt where, and would be open with you in front of others. Yet he scantly even wanted men to be able to hear you, too jealous to choose if he wanted no one to hear, or for them to know what they weren’t getting.
Jon though, as he deepened the kiss, his knee pushed further between your legs now that the fabric was not so much in his way. Pushing you to widen your stance for him just the slightest, Jon kept it there to ensure you couldn’t get shy and close them again. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, and without any thought did you part them for him, only to be tricked. Pulling back enough Jon did, a more chaste kiss followed by a deeper and longer one each time, until he bit at your lip with more of a growl in his chest, both hands cupping your cheeks. The one with the skirt of your dress was pulled indecently high but he gave you no time to think.
Your gasp gave him opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, running along yours in a brushing of taste as your hands both gripped uselessly at his shoulders. Deeply did his tongue taste inside your mouth as if knowing just how long to keep you so utterly breathless before teasingly pulling back. Your lips naturally trying to follow as he parted from you, eyes closed and small strands of saliva still connecting you both as Jons dark grey eyes looked over you with a hooded greed within them. Lunging back more urgently, Jon pressed you harsher into the wall as your hands fell to his waist trying to steady yourself against him, but a moan leaving into his mouth only pulled a groan from Jon, pressing further into you enough that the layers adorning him shifted enough you could just begin to feel a twitch pressing further into your hips.
The hand not gripping the material of your dress cupped the back of your neck again to keep you against his kiss as if he were not the one who had pulled away. Dropping the skirt all together, Jon let that hand drift to your neck, down your throat and seeking the collar of the top of your dress. Unwilling to wait, Jon sunk a hand under the fabric without any care as he forced passed the tight squeeze to grope at your breast. A gasp flew into his mouth, but Jon only squeezed more firmly, seeking out your nipple and with little room to you, twisted and pulled at the small bud with a purpose.
His kiss biting into yours as he did so in tandem, his hips pushing further into yours, the growing feeling of his covered cock hard against you had a wave of feeling rush between your legs no doubt as he intended. Squeezing his sides, you tried to whine against him but Jon but harder, kissed deeper, and groped more roughly as if to put you back into your place, to just follow him. Which you so easily did.
Hands digging into the belt around him, Jon knew if you were worse behaved, you’d have made any move to have him do anything more. But you just let Jon’s lips press you into the wall, hand groping at your breast only for him to realize you would not disobey, you wouldn’t part from his kiss. Freeing your neck, Jon let go of the strands sifted through his fingers as he ran the other down, the collar pulled indecently down, without exposing you but enough that any who’d see if Jon pulled his hands would be able to tell anyways.
Not an ounce of shame existed in him. Kissing and biting at your lips as your chest as roughly treated in a way that had your own self arch up into his touch, you much more obviously able to feel the trace of his cock thick under his own clothes but he did nothing about it. Able to ignore his own need for as long as possible to get what he wanted from you, Jon was talented at that beyond what most women would ever discuss of their mens sexual prowess.
Twisting at your nipple enough you cried out louder into his kiss, Jon only pulled from your lips to roughly husk against them. “It’s alright, darling. I know.” Nodding barley, you tried to chase his lips, but Jon surged forward making the contact himself roughly. Yanking one hand out, Jon traced the length of your body down to your skirt once more before not quite hiking it up, but moving it to where he could seek your thigh underneath. Running smooth over your skin before hiking it up onto his hip, pressing them more into yours as you cried out against him more.
Fingertips running over the already damp fabric covering you, a frustrated growl left Jon as he gritted against your kiss. “Why do you even bother with them?” Not giving you a stuttering chance to find a real answer, Jon gripped the fabric. Tight in his hand as he pulled, more of a yank on them to strain it’s hold, his other hand leaving your chest so suddenly to meet on the other side as both hands suddenly and roughly ripped he material from where it hid your most exposed parts. All without your notice, did Jon quickly put both scraps into one hand, tucking it away on his person without any care for what he did or for such a perverse act of keeping them in secret.
Two fingers seeking out your clit, just as you nearly jumped from the touch, Jons other hand slid behind to grasp at the meat of your ass, forcing your hips forward into his touch more. Rough, tightly kept patterns he moved against the sensitive bundle of nerves with urgency, pulling from your kiss again to watch your eyes before dragging them down what he could see of your body. Yet his voiced while rough and raspy was more on the edge of gentle then you’d expect. “How many can you handle?” A question sounded through your throat as Jon caught your eyes with his dark ones asking for a seriousness. “How many times do you want me to make you cum right now?”
Your voice was meek but you answered honestly, as the brewing tightness inside your core flamed hotter and hotter in a twist as you felt more and more wetness coming from you as you looked into his eyes. “One?” Jon only shook his head with a narrowed expression. “Two?”
Much more firmly, he gave his own final judgment. “We’ll do three.” Your eyes closed, hanging between you as you bit your tongue, hardly concealing the whine in your throat. Down that same path into your insides and core did the coil within you twist. Jon letting your clit almost roll and get tugged on as if your breasts getting the same treatment, your breathing picking up as your lungs stung to keep up with your racing heart. Calling your name more rasping and thick in voice then you could handle, you barley could look up at him as his fingers worked you over as his other hand left the imprints of bruises where he was holding your ass. Fingertips digging into the plush skin with no shame. “Three now, and I’ll give you all the rest later. Okay?”
Your nod was not enough, he always demanded you make yourself clear to him on such matters. “Okay, I promise.” Jon only let out a bright but gentle laugh, muttering that he didn’t need you to promise but you leaned up to meet his lips before he could continue.
Closer and closer the waves flooded into you, but the waters were as warm as Jon against you. Your hands rushing to the back of his neck to cling to him, almost letting him shift your hips so you had to be more at his mercy. Rough and harsh he was on your clit but just the right amount of pressure did he give and that coil snapped outwards and cried his name into his lips with a perfect need. The feeling dizzying you as a tensity gave to each muscle and yet you never even thought to pull away as Jon let that hand on your clit slide down running up and down your wetness with a bite to his kiss.
With no mercy, did Jon wait until he could sense you had just begun to come down before sliding two fingers thick inside of you. Dragging against your walls pulling a cry that had you instantly drop your head down onto his shoulder as if to hide. Pulling you back up with a somewhat tender hold of the hair at the back of your head did Jon pull you back up to meet his eyes. A whispered beg of his name as you almost winced as he sunk as deep as both could go.
Not leaving you, but gently running his nose down the length of yours his voice was full of a needy heavy and distinct, yet spoke with a lightness of concern that struck at your already pounding heart. “Hey, hey, look at me.” Finding your eyes proper, Jon eased up on the manner which he was more slowly pulling them partway from you before even as slowly filling you once more, keeping you on a lightheaded edge but not pushing you. “Are you alright?”
Nodding, you tried to seek his lips but Jon kept you back with an ask of your name to be sure. Eyes closing as you sought your voice beyond the needing beg desperate to seep back into it before looking back at him. “I’m fine, I promise. You’re just..”
“A lot?” Your laugh was breathless, and interrupted halfway through with a small gasp as another quickly forming wave flowed through you. Your hands grasping at his waist now, a tighter hold trying to keep his stature and warmth crowded in front of you, as if Jon had any intention of going anywhere else. Tilting your head back up to Jon, his lips were light and chaste against yours despite the racing in your blood of what he knew he was making you feel like. A burning fire in the dead of winter.
Leaning you more back against the wall in a more relaxed manner, in the back of your mind you could sense that Jon was changing tactics for your sake. Whether or not he believed you were fine didn’t seem to matter in if he said it. Going from a blaze of urgency to a softer, more easing and guiding manner he clearly had decided you needed to be taken care of in a more gentle manner. Days you had been taken by both wolves, and for days on end you begun to feel overwhelmed. Not just in the guilt manifesting in your deluded mind, but a physically overwhelmed sensation that both made you weak and pliable to either of their need, but it was making you overly sensitive.
None of the issue was a blame on either, but if one was likely to notice more then the other it was Jon. No more striking of a comparison then your life now, the manner which they were the same yet extremely different. In the heat of the moment, Robb had a little more trouble recognizing signs you needed to slow down. Obviously both would simply tell you that you should feel comfortable vocalizing that, but you never would. It wasn’t...well it wasn’t how the women in your life raised you.
You were never really told that it actually was alright to voice discomfort to a man in sexual situations, you had a duty. And even though you knew Robb and Jon both despised whenever you’d fall back into that sort of mentality with them, Jon was simply a little more soft in the moment which gave him time to recognize it. The slow way his fingers were still thick inside of you, but dragged them slowly along something sensitive inside of you, never picking that speed up or adding more. The hand around the back of your head, running through you hair almost in a massaging manner as he pulled you closer to your end and despite the grey bleeding out into black, his eyes gazing down at you in something bright but watchful and almost adoring.
He was wild and unpredictable. A man turned feral wolf unable to control his need, but also gentle and watchful no matter how far gone between you both the passion had led you down. Robb was somehow just as much an anomaly. So much more predictable and traditional, you knew what you were always getting into with Robb and yet the degree to with he would drag you down into his level of depravity was perplexing.
Forcing you back into the world was a sudden shift from Jon though, that man gentle and watchful had suddenly switched. Near hissing your name until you looked up to meet his eyes only long enough for Jon to capture your lips with his in a much more needing and biting aggression. Leaving the back of your hair to join his other hand still sinking his fingers in and out of you slowly, but letting his others drag along your wetness and move upward to run back at your clit. The coil inside burning hot and it hurled you faster towards your end then you thought you were.
Head light as he would chase your lips any chance you took to pull back for air until you cried out. The snap sudden and hands grabbing at him hard with a need to ground yourself but Jon simply bit at your lips rough enough you felt a tearing tingling feeling vibrating against them as if he made mean to draw a cut.
Hardly coming down still your thighs shook in such aftershocks but Jon all but growled your name, forehead pressing against yours and tilting you downward to watch as he hiked your dress enough you could see. Not bothering to give you any chance to get your hands on him further, Jon used one hand to pull his length out, thick enough that the still feeling of what you could describe a soreness begged for mercy looking at. But it was unbearably hard as he lined himself up with your soaked entrance. His other hand returning to the back of your neck did Jon force your lips to meet his as he sunk deep inside of you.
Free hand holding up your thigh around his hip, fingertips pressing into the skin as if to remind you that he knew you might be overwhelmed but he needed you to just let him take care of you. For how tight you could be around such a girth, Jon always managed to slide deep inside of you as much as possible in one smooth thrust as if despite everything you had been designed for him. You knew he felt as such.
Licking into your mouth upon a small gasp of pleasure drawn from your core, you had not the head space to realize he was making more of a display then you knew. Going slow enough that the degree of need flowing through you as you grasped at him was palpable, and a more distinct showing that even when his cock was deep inside of you, that was not the only way he would be. Never once did he let you leave his kiss, your lightheadedness mixing with a dizzy feeling the closer he drew you with him to his promised third end.
Sliding in and out of you at such a steady but slow pace, you felt every inch as he moved along your soaked walls. Feeling so full and at such a speed did it really put itself on display for your senses. A burning hotness within you grew and grew as you had no control but to cry as he too, took control of your mouth as well. You both knew in such moments, he controlled you, and you let him. Wanting to beg and plead to him how good he felt inside of you but Jons growling in his chest as he refused to leave your kiss indicated he felt the same.
Heart racing and you only able to meekly hold onto his waist, hardly in the position to try and move with him. No, Jon moved against you, cock slowly filling you, leaving almost to the tip before once more thrusting back enough that were you both bare, the sound would’ve escaped beyond the muffle of your clothes and be heard through the empty hall.
A whine sufficing as a cry of wanting to beg him, plead how good he felt inside of you, a sad, desperate murmur that you loved him as he fucked you slowly against the wall. But his kiss stole your voice and breath and every sound just as he wanted. Already a shaking feeling in your muscles did you wrap your arms more around his shoulder and back as that feeling once again raised it’s weary head and sent you down the hill to that burning water to radiate all over your body. Closer and closer did you go, clenching around Jons length as he throbbed inside of you. Hands tight against your hair and your thigh as he held but the moment you snapped and waved over with a cry in his kiss did Jon let out a guttural groan into your mouth in return.
Thick and hot his seed was as it spilled inside of you, his hips never slowing until there was nothing left to offer. For now. Were you in the confines of his chambers, that would’ve merely been a first, light coarse for what he really wanted to do to you. How long he could go. Letting your leg down, Jon ensured you were steady on your feet before tucking himself back.
One hand cupping the side of your neck, Jon tilted your head up by your chin to meet his dark eyes, both of you catching your breath close to the other enough you felt the air leaving him his your cheek, almost as hot as the seed he filled you with. A handsome smile came over him with a breath of a laugh, leaning close to capture another kiss but to also run his nose against yours, not moving an inch from you too far until he knew you had returned back down to the ground. He’d take you until you passed out tonight, he didn’t even need to state it for you to know.
Except as he nuzzled against you in return as you did him, did his voice hiss out more rasping and rough then he would’ve spoken to you with. “You wanted a free show or what?” Brows narrowing in an innocent confusion, as Jon turned to the other side of the hall did you gasp in a shock and startle. But Jon, only pulled you closer into his front. A protective hold on you without question as he glared down the other Stark there. Muttering as you felt the flushing of embarrassment cause you to hide more in Jons chest, asking how long he had been there. Jons answer only flooded your nerves with that humiliation more, but the gentle caress of the hair at the back of your head suggested he knew that when he said it. “Almost the whole time.”
You glanced over with one eye, despite who it was you felt something of that guilt and shame at being caught. His blue eyes bordered on dark as he stepped closer with something sharp and rigid in his jaw, arms crossed against his chest as he stood there eyeing down his brother, whom was keeping you protectively close to his chest. Robb was the slightest bit softer looking towards you but his words did not help. “The only reason he did this here, love, is he wanted me to see him take you.”
Coming too close, Jon pulled you more into him. Tucking your flustered head from Robbs prying eyes as Jon considered them. “Robb.” Stopping his brother in his tracks at the unmistakable warning in his voice, Jon tilted his head somewhat in his narrowed gaze that said something you did not have the privilege to see or interpret. Rasping deep close to your ear as if responding to something Robb had spoken silently, considering nothing was shared out loud. “She’s not yours tonight.”
Moving backwards a bit, you looked up to a confusion to Jon. Tearing what seemed to be a tense stare off between the two, Jon softened as he cupped both of your cheeks. Pressing a kiss to your forehead and a longer, chaste one to your lips once then twice before muttering against them. “Go on ahead without me for now. Tell them I’ll be right there, I need to talk to Robb for a moment.”
A bite of your tongue he could see, Jon merely left one more kiss to your lips as he let his thumb run over the skin of your cheek. “Let me talk to Robb right now, and I’ll take care of you tonight, darling. I promise.” Nodding, he gestured for you to go, not letting his hands leave your frame until there was no other choice.
A deeply embarrassed fluster was flush across your face as you had to pass Robb to even go in the direction you needed. Without seeing the flash of a much more quick and deep rooted anger Jons eyes sent towards his brother the entire time, Robb had stopped you in your tracks to pull you a little closer to his side. His whisper not quiet enough that Jon wouldn’t hear, which no doubt was purposeful as he let his hand run gentle at your other cheek then Jon had just been touching. “He take care of you?”
“Robb.”
Not letting you turn to address the more stern anger in Jons shout, Robb raised an eyebrow with a charming smirk to entice you to answer. Wanting to glance between them with more to say but you didn’t quite know that he was getting at. Only nodding, as Robb then looked you over. Stepping close to your front he leaned down.
A whisper still enough for Jon to hear, “And the days he doesn’t, my bed is open to you for more then just what we agreed on.” You took it with much more innocence, but the gesture had Jon clench his jaw, turning from the sight with an anger deep in his agitated frame as Robb captured your lips in a gentle kiss. Hardly lasting long he nodded only once in the direction for you to go. Both waiting until the sight and sounds of you were long gone did they turn back to face one another.
“How often do you do this?” Roughly asking what, Jon felt little patience in him for this. Part of him was still buzzing from how perfect it always felt to make love to you, and having that interrupted no matter what set him off. But he too, was set off from last night and his own anger that might have ended him this discussion anyways. Robb’s comment was made in an anger, gesturing to where you had disappeared down the hall with offence. “Fucking her out in the open where anyone could walk in on? She’s your wife and you’re out there fucking her like you’re in the middle of a brothel.”
Jon found himself raising his voice in an angry audacity almost right away as he stepped closer to his brother. “I love her. I don’t fuck her like a whore, and I certainly don’t treat her like one.” Almost something amused sat in Robbs comment almost challenging him on that fact, but Jons face twisted as he gestured in general to Robbs person. “I heard you two last night.”
He was quick on the draw, Jon could give him that. “You listen to me fuck her often, Snow?”
That only inflamed that temper within him to draw out claws that much faster. “Everyone in the castle could hear. The way you talk to her-” Cutting himself off Jon ran a hand over his mouth as if to contain the ire and frustration so close to boiling over, despite the calm temper sitting in Robbs eye.
“What about it?”
Challenging Jon to say what he meant, Jon decided he refused to say it in any way that flowered it up in honey whatsoever. Robb knew Jon had said it with something feircly protective in him towards you. “She was your wife first. How about you try fucking her like you love her for once?” A short ask in a drop in tone for Jon to repeat himself, he pulled no punches as he let your name come growling out. “You fuck her like you hate her, and you want to judge me for where I spend my time with her?”
Only, the best opponent for a Stark in anger, was an equally as angry Stark. Robb was a good contender to throw back at his brother just as well. “I’m not the one leaving her bruised all over. Whenever I have her after you, it looks like you beat her.” The flare that struck within Jon did something near dangerous flow over his eyes, and yet Jon made not an inch of reaction despite that sudden pounding in his heart. “If you were anyone else, Jon, I wouldn’t be letting her anywhere near your bed.”
They both were letting their tempers make it personal, it didn’t need to be an attack on either, but neither were men well received for such harsh comparisons. Nearly getting into his brothers face his voice dropped to an edged husk like a sharp blade. “You of all people don’t get to throw that at me. Or are you going to honestly tell me that you aren’t way too rough with her every night you have her?”
It was the truth, and Robb could only ever phrase it to Jon in such a way, but it was not the right emotions brewing between either of them to make what was said, land anything close to being taken in the right way. “She wants me to be rough with her.”
Jon only growled out, “She want you to hurt her?”
Staring the other down, both felt that anger too close to the surface. If neither had said anything they would regret later by now, both brothers knew they were treading awful close to that line. Robb stayed as steady and calm as he always did, but nearly hissing out with a seething anger. “If you’re accusing me of something, Snow. Best say it now.”
Breathing ragged and harsh as it was deep through his lungs, Jons voice dropped rough with something much more visibly worked up in his every manner of his person. “I’d never treat her the way you do.”
“I’d never use her in public like she’s a show for men to get off on watching.”
Both could argue you never complained with either of them and it would be true, but the distance between how they were in such intimate scenarios with you were almost too different to see eye to eye in anyway here. The tension to thick and riled up to be compatible in any way. The feeling in his chest, heart pounding and yet it all beat in the direction yearning to be where you had gone, but that man overpowered the wolf long enough to push down the rawness for reason even for a moment.
Sighing out, Jon opened and closed his mouth a few times, but the wave coming across his eyes much more serious and concerned seemed to have luckily, struck Robb that whatever he was to say needed to be listened too at the minimum. More of a rasp, no one would hear save for Robb what he was about to say. “Things were easier between you two before, but it’s different now. She’s...” Finding his eyes, Jon felt what you must have felt towards him months ago. The need to spare a loved one from such a horrible knowledge. So he downplayed it, and both knew he was doing so. “The things she’s been through since she’s come back, she’s not the same anymore, Robb. She’ll never tell you if she wants to stop, she won’t tell you no when she knows she needs to, she’ll never do anything that she thinks might displease you. She’ll trick you into forcing her past her limits if she thinks she needs too.”
Robb only asked what did he mean by that, and when Jon didn’t answer, both felt unwell at either the truth or the following assumption. Looking away, Robb returned his brothers gaze after a beat passed with a tone calmer then before but full of a worry. “You’re saying she’d-”
Jon hated that he knew where it was going, but was as blunt as he knew Robb deserved to hear the extent of it. “If we weren’t raised by our father, if we were worse men? She’d let us take her against her will if we wanted it, and she’d still pretend she liked it for our sake. She’ll do whatever it takes to please you. I’m not telling you..” Both men nodded knowing where that one was going, brothers unwilling to address that so specifically as Jon continued with a clearing throat. “I am saying you have to be more careful with her. You have to make sure you’re watching for signs she’s about to lie to you when you ask if she needs to stop.”
You would’ve let Jon take you roughly if he hadn’t picked up on how overly sensitive you felt, and Jon hated that you trusted him even if he’d actually be hurting you. And he knew you trusted Robb the same, but he needed Robb to know that too. Nodding, the blue in Robb’s eyes much more matched the bright sorrow no doubt radiating in Jons greys. Thinking for a moment before he nodded, something more confident and firm in him. “I have to do better to take care of her.”
Jon though, none of the anger left, gave nothing but a peace offering in form of the truth. “We both do.”
Robb had the right answer though, one not so marred in Jons ill memories of the unknown to Robb as he lightened the mood standing in that corridor. “Who knew it’d take two of us to even try tackling whats wrong in her head.” Jon jested back, both glancing to where you had gone that you were the most exhausting woman a man could try to love. Both laughed lightly at that, facing the other again, as Jon extended his arm in a final offering. Robb took it with a shake. “You two have tonight with each other, tomorrow,”
“We start fresh?”
Robb could only add with an amusement, “She’s going to hate being part of that talk. Stubborn as all hell.”
Jon however laughed, again a bright look full of a distant adoration so vivid in his eyes watching where you were not. In truth, he seemed to have mumbled the quiet part out loud, but in a stroke of luck, Robb knew exactly what he was talking about for himself too. “And I’d never trade that about her for anything.” You were exhausting the two wolves knew, but Robb and Jon also knew who was up to a great challenge if not a pack of wolves?
The meeting went so much easier then the tension minutes before would’ve suggested. You and Robb worked well together, much of his thoughts or strategy complimented by you. But too were you also so natural at Jons side. More of the support for his decisions, and if Robb were to admit, you looked quite good at his brothers side. You looked perfect at Robbs he knew, but you also somehow looked like you too were made to stand at Jons. The only question now was what to do about that, but Robb knew that would have to wait until tomorrow. Robb wanted you, he loved you, but still he could see.
And there was no denying the simple fact that Jon looked at you like he truly needed you.
Little did something feel better then the hot water steaming around you. Not simply the grime of the day soaking off of your skin, but from the cold air exposed before getting in to the heat now engulfing every part around it, it made the pain that much easier to sit with. Faint were the sounds of your dreams which woke you so early the night before, and now sitting there you could ignore the rest of it for even just a moment.
Though, the just as warm figure behind you helped in that manner. Running through your hair, Jon had rinsed out the oils you had chosen for yourself that time, and now had begun busying himself with gently running through the long locks with a comb to untangle the rest. Rasping low in your ear as your eyes sat closed at his insistence that you enjoy yourself and not do anything. “You can’t avoid it forever.”
A murmur on your tongue, even without looking you could see the bemused grin forming across Jons face as you said it. “I think you’re underestimating my ability to run from my problems.” Mumbling that he certainly was not doing that, both of you knew were you facing him you’d have nudged him from you in a playful protest. “You know him in a different way then I do. You don’t have to worry about him putting every negative viewpoint he might possibly have known in his life and hurl it towards you for a life he doesn’t understand.”
Shifting so Jon could drape your hair along the front of one shoulder, he then slid that same arm across your frame, pulling you to lean back against him by your collarbones. One hand shifting up to hold at his wrist. “And I grew up a bastard, and married his highborn daughter. You don’t think that puts me down a notch in his eyes?” Mumbling that it was higher up of an opinion then you would be right now, Jon chuckled slightly before pulling you closer. “He’ll find out eventually.”
Inhaling deeply, you let your head fall back a bit against him, his other hand slinking around to your front to pull you closer as you sat between his legs. “And I’ll handle that when it comes to it, but I’m not looking for a reason for my father to judge me more then he does now.”
It took quite a while before you were willing to get up, and Jon never once hesitated in giving you that time, the hot water around now acting as a soother to you from the many encounters of passed days. How such a discussion came about to what would be said when your father learned of your new unique position, you had no doubt you’d rather not have to think on it. Pulling you up from the water, Jon had only gone as far as to wrap a long but silk made robe around your shoulders before guiding you into the other room.
Feet cold against the stone, you naturally sought out the furs in front of his fire. The cold of his room was always prominent, even moreso as the snows begun to fall and fall without failure. Never did it bother you, but in that moment it was as if the waters you just emerged from had been as cold as ice. Only the skin touched by the light of fire had anything soothing feeling towards it, your bones yearning to wrap a thicker shall or even a blanket around you by this point.
Your vision from the side told you that somehow, Jon had not the same feeling about the cold. Door locked and uncaring about the same insecurities you did about it, he hard only thrown on a pair of breeches. Not even laced up as they threatened to fall as they sat temptingly low on his hips. Flickering back to the fire, you felt a guilt for it as if spying on a sight not your business. He was not walking around that way for you to leer at and yet you found the inclination strong all the same.
Step by step you heard him approach, and yet as your arms had crossed your front pulling the sides of the robe closed, did Jon gently pull the sides down your shoulders with the silent command for you to let it fall where he allowed it. Dropping around your feet, your bare frame now drying better in front of the fire was not given the chance to shiver from the air. Pulled back into Jon once more, an arm wrapped around to your stomach and the other smoothing his palm up and down your waist to hip.
The still warm droplets of water fell from where they clung to the curls of his hair, down onto your skin where he leaned over your shoulder. The side of his head pressed into yours, Jons eyes and yours followed one single drops path where it fell on your collarbones, down over the curve of your breasts and down between before losing steam as it came down to your hips. Another and another as if he was muddying your ability to stay dry now with the desire to watch what came from him spill down onto your skin as if watching something far more perverse in nature.
Tilting your head somewhat to partially see him in your view, Jons voice was a low rasp but thicker with need then before. As if only as he spoke deeply did you feel the undeniable twitch of his cock begging to go back to being uncovered and close to you as he wanted. But did not make any move to do so, not quite yet that was. “I want to make you feel good.” Murmuring your name, Jon leaned over a little more to ensure you were looking at him. “Do you want that?”
Nodding at first, you should’ve known Jon would not accept such a response. He expected it out loud, and barley did you have the courage to whisper. “Please?” Jon only smiled something much more charming as he stretched the more awkward angle to seek what of your lips he could reach. Guiding you to lay down right where you were, Jon kicked away the fabric of the robe away onto the floor useless to him now.
Braced up against your palms, feet planted on the ground with your knees more bent, Jon sat more comfortably at your side facing the opposite manner so your eyes could easily meet. Letting a hand ride up, he ran gentle over your face and by your cheek, almost instinctively did you lean into his touch as he switched to cup your cheek completely. Thumb now taking over running back and forth. Reaching back up to grasp at his wrist, your own thumb pressing over his pulse had him shiver.
Almost twisting his face into a frown had you not know him better, Jon instead of making any words, slid his hand to the back of your neck. Pulling you to him as he leaned forward to capture your lips with his. Gentle he was as soft as his lips were, you never felt anything but that jump of lightness in your heart at such a motion. Not anything deep, but a guiding lead as he refused at every gesture to allow you to pull away.
Once, then twice did he try on his own only to fail and return to force your lips back to his as if he were not the one who tried to give you the air. Deeper and deeper did he kiss you, seeking out any and every need within him to keep that gentle press against him as much as you felt that lightness move from your chest to your mind, clouding it as you wished to reach up to him. Instead Jon leaned more over you, keeping you in need to stay braced against the furs to even meet him in anyway, but Jon more then made up for it.
Only tearing away as he bit your lip, pulling a gasp from you, Jon ignored the urge to slide his tongue into your mouth and made his way to press his lips against your jaw and neck. One hand moving to the opposite side of your head to tilt you better to his need, but Jon licked and kissed a wet path down your neck only to bite down. Returning up that same pathway, you felt Jon give more of a growl to you as he sunk his teeth.
A buzzing flew though you with something sharp as gasps came out in high pitched need, eyes fluttering closed at the scraping of his teeth pulling a desire from you more and more as your thighs tensed wishing to push together. Harder and harder did he bite, before his lips soothed the sting before returning to such the same animalistic instinct. Unable to stop himself from nearing the point of too far and yet never once did the need in your heart turn from such strong trust to fear. Never with Jon would you wish to feel that as if he’d treat you the way Ramsay had.
Pushing you down more, Jon shifted his own stance so he could hover over you. The hand on your face now drifting downward, seeking your knee as he reached blindly behind him and made them move to lay down, forcing you to simply lay out and relax. Yet his path of his lips did not make that easy, a wetness growing between your legs as each breath could be heard more labouring from you as every single sound was higher pitched then the last.
Not even the wince was truly correct, more of something overwhelming as when your legs lay out did Jon grasp at your breast. Calloused hand groping at the plush skin not even with any showmanship or finesse. Just the greed of a man who wanted more, lips moving down to your collarbones with every intent on stopping at your breasts.
His body moved down with him, less and less of him so easily available to see but his still damp hair, curls black as they created a tickling curtain where it fell around his head against your skin, his facial hair much more a raw scratching that had your hand dig into the fur with a whine so close to the surface.
Kissing the top of your breast which was not occupied by his hand, Jon finally glanced up to you only for a moment. Staring from your neck no doubt bruising as you felt the sting against it, down and down to your breasts before his hand returned to grasping at you. Fingers gently grabbing at your nipple, only pulling and pinching enough that matched his gentle manner his lips found the other.
Sucking gently at the bud of your breast did your back arch up into him. Fingers still digging into the fur as the other sat stretched above your head doing the same unsure what you were supposed to even do beyond barley withholding a whine of his name. More and more his lips found that of his teeth and as he more roughly pulled at your nipple did Jon bite down on the other.
That so much more a growl leaving from his chest, that feeling of sparks burned from his touch and flooded your bloodstream down and all through where it reached. The more he yanked at your nipple with a force, the more Jon took the other between his teeth rather then any gentle soothing with his lips or tongue. Bites around the rest of it as the sting on your neck was tenfold here. A pleasure much more distinct and needy begging to be brought to the surface.
But not yet finished was he in his path. Moving down Jon continued to not let any spot he passed go without a kiss. Between the valley of your breasts and down your sternum, Jon took his time at your stomach. The scar with careful near pecks before shifting fully. Kneeling more between your legs now on his knees, Jon grasped both of your thighs and spread them wide. Grey in his eyes disappearing to the black as he looked at what wetness you already gifted him. “Relax for me. I’ll take care of you,”
Hardly sitting up on your elbows, your neck and chest stung with indents of teeth and forming bruises as it heaved for the air he always made you feel as if it were a struggle for. Lips parted you nodded, an unsure glaze over your eyes that never ceased to accompany such an act but Jon was too busy staring what you so easily let him have between your legs. You never felt confident in this the way he was in how much he wanted it but you did not dare say no, not when your body burned everywhere you could still feel his touch. Fire alight on your upper thighs where he was keeping them pushed apart for his witness. Shifting downwards, Jon only rasped with an accent so thick you barley would’ve heard if not for the quiet around you two. “I’ll never get over the way you taste, darling.”
Head dropping backwards against the furs in both an embarrassment and also a deep shiver racing down your spine. You didn’t know if he even cared at this point at how you always reacted to his genuine thirst for the wetness he would drink from. Starved and in need, Jon never cared about anything he could taste more then what he could get from prying your legs apart.
Jon lay between your legs, pulling both over each shoulders with such a dark gaze staring with an intensity that could intimidate most. Lips finding your mound, you bit your lip from any noise but Jon with a hand holding you steady at the hip, slid more down to your ass. Not even grasping properly, but a sharp squeeze with his nails to add as if grabbing your attention to not hide from him. He could not look to you, thus he needed to hear you. Your breath shaky as he kissed down to your clit but the cry was an outburst you did not necessarily mean to come out so sharply.
Licks of his tongue almost like that of a kitten, Jon never picked up any pace of significance. Soft and sweet as if savouring something before seeking his feast, your body burned despite it. A fire forming in the pit of you core and were Jon not holding you down, you’d have arched to his touch more. Instead held in place, Jon grew more and more bold. Small flicks of his tongue, turned into more purposeful motions and the pressure begun to increase. Both in against your clit from his touch, but within your core it increased faster then normal.
You were sensitive, but that made it you were sensitive to touch of any kind. Jon was cruel however in what he would bring you to your finish from his touch on you alone. Much more sloppily did he care for your clit. Tongue flat against it, patterns you could not even discern and his lips taking it with a sucking as if your nipple. But the bundle of nerves so strikingly waved desire through you that your hand beside you within the furs grasped at his hair by instinct.
The hold was light, but Jon grunted. The vibration pulling a whine in your chest, and thus he did it once more. Further and further did his tasting tongue drag you down as he soaked you in pleasure. His lips and tongue so powerful against you as your thighs tensed. Your hand remained gentle raking through his curls but the other stretched bent above your head was positioned still grasped the fur tightly.
A growl against you and hands tight on your skin as he held you down, that thread keeping you from beyond had suddenly snapped as Jon almost ran his mouth over you as if a kiss meaning to tease you with his tongue. A shamelessly greedy manner to be between your legs and yet as your orgasm flooded your veins and clouded your mind calling his name did Jon shift your hips up.
Sat a bit more upwards, Jon now held you down where he could sink his head down properly into your cunt as an animal drinks from a pool of water in desperate calling. Only the dark curls could you see but your cries left without any ability to stop them. Your hand did not maintain hold through his curls to keep him there, but rather a tether to the ground where you’d float away otherwise.
Your wetness on full display for him, made only stronger by the saliva coating you as much as your heavy taste coated his tongue. The grunts from him only increasing, further and further licking inside of you. Tongue running flat along from your clit down, and growling emerging from his chest as he shifted his hold on your hips tighter to tug you to his mouth closer.
A burning feeling was all you had, just the fire beside you and the sounds of Jons mouth feasting between your legs and yet it echoed in the head of you who could only feel that fire for him. Nothing else existed and your lip would bite down as much as you could not keep them from parting with a moan out to the quiet of the night.
One hand running down to your ass, Jon shifted you better once more as if never happy yet. As if nothing could make any of it any better until as your mind was nothing but a beg of him, he wanted no sense focused on anything but you. Coating his tongue your wetness did, and every brush and lick as he found inside of you was almost not for you. The pleasure a coincidence, a side effect to the true desire which was giving Jon yourself in ways you only had known and trusted from him.
Crying out his name another flood of need waved through you, muscles all tense and yet as your feet pressed into his back, Jon growled as his tongue was deep inside of you. The vibrations strong and so sharp you would’ve jumped were he not holding you down. “Gods, Jon, please..”
Were his eyes not closed, they’d have rolled into the back of his head at the sound. Your begging like that of a siren in the sea to him, and he swam directly towards the source. Waters flooding around the man whereas here, it was the wetness mixed with you and his saliva making such a mess that were he not drinking all of what you gifted him, the furs below no doubt would’ve been soaked and Jon would not have held a single regret as such. A reminder of what he was graced with now no matter what past and present beholded to him. He could always lay you out on the furs before the fire in his chambers and always taste that sweetness no dessert could replicate.
Lay you out bare on the table in the hall and Jon would taste you as all else ate what was baked for any such occasion. Before you could even articulate it, before words could form such a burst of sparks turned to flames and did you writhe against his touch. A groan left Jon as his name left you, hands now braced at the thigh over his shoulders, did Jon not give you a single inch untouched.
Tongue flat against you and sliding as much as he could inside of your warm, soaking cunt as you clenched around the nothing truly filling you with as much crying need as his cock could give. Jon did not understand how some people saw this act as merely build up to the next event. Jon had you bare laying out for him for long enough that sweat was beginning to form over you in a way that made another groan come out against you.
Sparks too much as your hips flinched a little from his mouth but Jon was not done. He struggled to be done. Returning up to your clit with fervour, your hands tightening in his hair did not in fact, ease up the manner which he drank from you. In fact, it only spurned him on further. One hand reaching upwards, Jon ran over your front grasping tightly at your breast as if to gain your attention. The hand above your head reaching the language, reaching down to grasp his as you both held tight. Jon with such a tight hold on you as each shock of pleasure too much he kept you firmly on his tongue.
Your insides twisted without words to describe it, you faintly could breathe there was such a strong pleasure burning like a fire in the wild in your core. It never eased up as he never let you, cries coming from your lips as eyes stung with tears.
Further and further Jon dragged you down to the depths. One after another, you lost count as you suspected he wished for you too. Seeking a pleasure he could greedily provide you in contrast to what he still aggravatingly knew was such a rough manner his brother treated you. Jon knew he was rougher with you then he sometimes realized, but never did he do it on purpose. Never did he fuck you with angry words and spitting insults and yet you enjoyed it. Almost enough it would make Jon second guess your time with him.
But looking up, grey eyes scouring over your arching body with marked breasts from his mouth on full display, his mouth never once stopping his taste, Jons eyes slipped back closed. Your hand in his hair was not directing, only grounding. Only keeping you from floating too far, but again was Jon not concerned with stopping.
Jon gifted to you what no man before him had ever done, and none enjoyed it the way he does. No one understood the way Jon was laid between your legs, thighs over his shoulders as your feet dug into his back trying to ease the pressure in your core from his tongue. The way you grasped for words but failed short of anything but pleads of his name, or how if he looked closely, the tears existed in your eyes? He knew all he needed to know. He was different with you then the way Robb was, but he was more then enough. He was something to you other men could never be.
A final flood into his mouth, Jon had not waited until you came down to sit upwards. Surging over your body, Jon captured the back of your head, pulling you up to meet his lips as your hands instantly wrapped around his own shoulders and back. Grasping at the long, loose strands of black curls hiding his greedy kiss from the watchful eyes he knew was not there.
Robb was right, Jon had taken you where he did earlier because he wanted his brother to see. Jon wanted him to see how a man fucks you slowly, keeps your lips so pressed against his that he had not the time to even entertain the idea of muttering such filth to you. The anger he felt at the words spoken and how you in such a state of mind had just taken it.
He knew Robb loved you but he did not come anywhere near close to fucking you as if that were true. Jon however, knew that even in the most depraved moments where it was not a mans cock inside of you but a wolf, he still was not jut fucking you. A word, a concept saved for the brothel in Winter Town, it belonged nowhere between you both. Jon no matter how rough, made love to you.
And as he licked at your bottom lip, taking advantage of how obediently you parted your lips to allow him to slide his tongue into your mouth sharing the sweet and heavy taste you had him addicted too, Jon knew there was nothing which would fuck the way he did you were it full of something beyond love. Overwhelming your mouth with his tongue matching the same as he drank from your cunt, you gripped at his hair and whined into his mouth knowing Jon would not let you go.
He needed to share, to taste your lips and mouth along with your wetness. He needed you to understand what he was so addicted too. What he could salivate like an animal over thinking about too long. How he did not understand why you’d ever want to suck his cock when there was no way it was anywhere near as close to a paradise above as you. Tasting you was never rough, it was never mean and could never push your limits beyond a saftey.
But he was not finished. The manner in which he has shared with you to soak so perfectly, Jon pulled your kiss closer by the back of your head to the thought that sliding inside of you was going to be so beautifully smooth. Restrained by his breeches, he hated that he even put them on for any modesty, but capturing your sweet lips once, twice, four times did he finally pull away.
Running his nose slowly down the length of yours as he rasped with such thick words, slurring together from an accent running strong in his desire. “Spread wide for me, darling.” Running his hand along what he could of your sweating hair, you bit your lip with a nod.
His dark eyes looking down at you, not even watching but feeling as you had to be the one to spread your legs wider for him. Jons touch only found in the form of his hands smoothing up the back of your calves. A brighter look in his eyes gave a nod that you did good, but surged both of them up to cup your cheeks. Passion bright between you as he could barley find it within him to move his lips elsewhere.
You felt as Jon sat up, holding his hands out for you to grasp as he pulled you up to a sitting position before him. Still having to lean down over you from the higher vantage point, but he kept your hands gentle in his. Bringing them down to the tops of his breeches, Jon gave the softest of smiles to your weary expression. “You’ve done this hundreds of times now.”
Nodding, you pushed away the nerves as if the first time seeing a mans cock. Undoing each lace without putting any form of show on, just slow and carefully as to not have any roughness to him. Free and loose, you begun pulling them down to low on his hips, the top of his hard cock visible eventually making you pause. Eyes looking up to meet Jons, he didn’t have to say anything. The look of encouragement that you could do this yourself, and slowly did you pull them down enough your face was level with his cock. Thick and red from the amount of blood pooling in him, you stared at it with your lips parted in a need.
Head turning to look up at him with a question, “Jon-”
He was quicker and shorter in tone with you. “No.” Cupping the side of you head, Jons dark eyes did not watch the tender words. “I want to be inside you, but not this way. Just the way you and I always do.”
Your heart flipped as you understood the insinuation. The gentle way. Nodding, he muttered for you to speak up. “I understand.” His silence as his hand raked through your hair was as good as praise. Eventually he took over for you, getting the rest of his clothes off and tossing them beyond sight as he leaned over you again, your legs still spread so wide like he asked.
Palms pressing into the furs at each side of your head, you sighed deeply in a desperate need for whatever he was to do next at his choosing. Rasping with such adoration, there was no aggression in the way Jon ever spoke to you regardless of what his touch might insinuate. “Some day soon, darling. I’m going to fill you with a baby. Give you my son.” It wasn’t an ask.
Your heart suddenly remembered the faint cries in your dreams without putting it together so directly. Nodding, you ran your hands through his curls with a gentle smile. “We can name him after your father if you want?” Jon’s eyes were wide and glossy but he didn’t say no. A nod of yes small but clear as he reached finally between you both. As if he was giving you a promise for right now, as if outside of this room, you’d walk out and a baby boy would be born to you both no matter how much it had yet to happen.
Crying out, Jon too hissed as he pressed the tip of his cock to your clit. Sensitive and soaked, Jon prodded against it as if teasing, but no smiles were found. Dragging it down with the same pressure, finally did Jon run along your soaking folds. Forcing his hand under your head to grasp at your hair, Jon looked you in the eye as he finally sunk inside of you.
The stretch making you gasp, the sting so perfect and yet the pain from so much of it present. He slid slowly, deep as he could go, as you could take him and yet your tight walls clenching around him did not seem to effect how his cock had entered you in one smooth thrust. Holding around the back of his neck with a crying gasp, your legs laid wide shook. Begging his name, but Jon shushed you as if soothing something upset.
Jon didn’t even blink when he pulled almost all of the way out of you. Tip remaining and such heavy breaths from your breasts now turning colour, Jon caressed your head and hair as much as he could before slowly thrusting back inside. Dragging his cock along your such sensitive walls pulled tears, but your lips were left open in endless cries both his name and silence. Jon never wavered as he looked down to you, demanding in his expression that you not close your own eyes.
Each slide of his cock was followed by such a humiliatingly wet sound. Pushing inside of your cunt, it could be heard that it was so smooth beacuse he had you so soaked. It was slower then even before, the way he gently pulled out of your walls nearly completely before thrusting back in. Ensuring every single moment he could see your eyes as he did so. Embarrassing it felt, but he did not do it as such, but a need of his own. To look into your eyes and know this connection between you both was here and real beyond any doubt. He had to look at you, in your eyes as if it was his own tethering to the ground.
Muscles tensing above you the more and more Jons length thrusted in and out of you, but the drag radiated from where it clawed at, pooling to your blood and veins and only able to be vocalized as pleasure beyond, “Oh fuck, Jon..” Your eyes fluttered shut, only for a moment trying to drag them back open without prompt. A prideful feeling struck within Jon that without any orders he had you so obedient for him.
Trying to move your hips with him, Jon only leaned down to press his lips to yours. Shifting so he could pull one of your legs by the thigh to rest up on his hip. Speeding up to overtake how much you could match him in thrusts, eyes pleading you to just let him take care of you.
You felt unbearably full, the thickness of his length always managing to draw out the most beautiful pain that you never thought you’d want to be asking for. Sweat building between you both and none of it from the fire beside you alone. Biting at your lips, you didn’t even need to gasp to know what it was to come, parting your lips and as he had before, overtook the charge. Brushing over your tongue as a sound of need gifted from you to him as Jon picked up just the slightest.
Your other leg bending up to his side to match on it’s own, the drag of his cock from your soaking warmth had you clenching around him, a grunt to you right back. Just slightly faster was enough to arch up into his front. Tearing from your lips as thrust after thrust did he move his hips with yours, cock sliding barley half way out before Jon lost his patience and thrusted right back inside of you as deep. Forehead leaning against yours, the trail of saliva connected between you only to break as he husked out with such a rough, guttural force. “You’re mine, darling. You’ll always be mine, and I’ll always be yours.”
He expected no response, words not easily coming to you in such a state. Pleads and cries and begs all whispered and whined like music in his ears as much as the sound of your wetness taking his length with a perfection. He could share you with one, he could do that, but he wouldn’t give you up. He’d make it work with Robb, he had to. Neither wolf could afford to ruin this, as much as he didn’t want to hurt you, Jon too didn’t want to leave you. He couldn’t and wouldn’t.
Grasping the thigh on his hip, Jon pushed back enough on his knees still thrusting slowly inside of you. With gritted teeth Jon suddenly pushed your leg as much as he could up against your chest, grasping the other and wrapping his arm around it to push it to the same.
One foot resting along his back, the other too tightly held in it’s bend with nowhere to go, you gasped with a bite of your lip as Jons hips drove into yours faster again. No rougher, but faster did the slight sound of skin against skin fill the air beyond your cries of need to one another. The coil within you at the new angle twisted unbearably fast, a flooding heat fill a sparking explosion begging to occur once that coil snapped and Jons cock started to drive you faster and faster to that end.
Eyes growing wider, almost begging to him did your voice grow frantic, unable to handle the warmth as you clenched around him. “Jon, I..I- oh fuck, Jon please.”
A true growl left Jon that time, a smooth slide in and out of you he only picked up somewhat in speed but you were so tight around him this way. You were so perfectly out on display for his cock and Jon felt his head drop at the way he started to throb inside of you over it. Forcing out in rasp, “Come on, darling. Come on, I need to feel you around me, give me this one..” Leaning down Jon captured your lips in a messy manner before your lips fell open in a cry. Grunting into you, Jon begun thrusting harder into you as that wave exploded.
The fire flooding you and bursting with that perfect amount of pain, Jon never ceasing how deep he had to fuck you, how much he had to keep going rougher just to fill you the same. Whatever nothings of begs coming from your mouth, Jons eyes fell shut. Head dropping into your neck, your orgasm spinning your mind to only him, did Jon throb deeply before your name slipped muffled into your skin and hair.
A heat suddenly filled you so deeply, Jons seed spilling inside of you hot and as thick as his cock was, but he never stopped. He sat up on his knees, thrusting faster with just as much momentum. A darkness in his eyes, looking down to your body covered in his bruising work as he rasped with a dark desire. “We’ll go as long as you want, as long as you need. Always, I promise, darling. I promise.”
Your orgasm had hardly faded, his hot seed deep inside you as if both were desperate to find harmony with one another, but Jon kept going. Thrust after thrust until the world begun to fade away from your desperate form. Arms wrapping around the back of his neck in his hair, you begged for him to stay, and Jons cock went harder at the sound.
Only the sounds of Jons rasp did you hear in the growing fading lost in the pleasure. “Sleep, darling. You’re safe with me.” When your eyes closed and head dropped to the side you did not know. But you did in fact know, that Jon hadn’t stopped when you did. You didn’t want him too. Spilling inside you so much that when you awoke eventually it coated the inside of your thighs as if you were so full of him that it had nowhere to go but paint your skin too.
Bare in the bed with the fur gently pulled atop, Jon had finished at some unthinkable time after you slept, and brought you to bed eventually. Where your place to him, was always at his side. But that was the thing wasn’t it? Because Robb too, thought the same about you as Jon. And both were men who expressed the degree of their love through fucking you, no matter the toll it was beginning to take.
It wasn’t just the direwolves which seemed to have disappeared that afternoon, it was you as well.
Robb had you one night, Jon the other but where were you now? Back and forth they had you for the night but suddenly you were nowhere to be seen. Theon did not know, Olly did not know, no one seemed to know. Nor did Arya have a clue where Ghost and Greywind were. Suggesting they had gone out for a hunt, but they had done that last night and wouldn’t have needed another so soon.
In the ask if they should be worried, Robb held the level head. Saying it was fine, and no doubt you were somewhere still in the castle clearly since no one too had seen you even trail outside. “Jon, she’s somewhere. We just have to find where that where is.”
Sighing deeply, Robb could almost taste the overbearing anxiety emanating from his brother. Neither too, could see through the eyes of their respective wolves. Something which seemed to happen when one was in a deep sleep unable to be so directly interrupted. Which was good, they were asleep and there were only so many places that was. Your name leaving Jons lips, “Wherever Ghost is, that’s where she is.” Robb asked why, and curiously Jon almost hesitated for a moment to answer. “Because if I can’t protect her, then Ghost does.”
Not dissimilar things they had done, Robb during the war once rumours of Renly Baratheon’s strange death came from his mothers account, Robb was unwilling to risk anything else. Greywind watched you at all times, kept tabs on you and could report back to Robb as well as any soldier, if not better. “You can’t trust her inside our own home?”
Jon was holding something back he knew, something he wasn’t saying but Robb doubted it would be an easy task to try and pry it out of him. “No. She has too many enemies out there. All it takes is her getting too far outside the walls and who knows what could happen to her.” Robb could only relent with a slight tilt of his head, dark and murky history passed told that story very well.
Sighing deeply, Robb stopped to turn to his brother in the middle of the corridor. “Jon.” Trying to get his attention, it struck Robb almost as amusing the degree to which his brother had changed. Older and more put together much like himself, now much of the time his hair pulled all the way back much like father always did in the warmer weather. But the wide, bright eyes a striking grey did not look the sternness of his father. It much more looked like a mix of Ned Stark and..someone else. As if hints of whoever Jons mother was, hints of her could be seen in his eyes, in the more soft way his face could be.
After all these years, Jon still was somewhat of an anomaly to Robb. But unlike the angry brooding he had been used too, Jon held it now with a very different responsibility and weight. He was somehow darker, angrier, and even more broodsome but Robb understood that. Coming back changed Stark men. But it also meant Robb knew how to tackle the ticking obsession in his brothers mind.
“Ghost and Greywind are somewhere not far. No one has seen them or her leave the castle. We know her. Where would she go?”
It wasn’t there first guess, but it was Robb’s third once the more calm search had begun. Thinking that perhaps if you were overwhelmed by something you’d go to where there was quiet without any doubt, and there now was only once place which was not where you had been in years. Slowly opening the door, Robb peaked his head in first.
In another life the sight would’ve made him smile, but as cute as it could be there was something telling about what led to it. Creeping the door open slightly, he nodded for Jon to glance in next to them. Jon sighed in relief but too held the same wide, bright eyes as Robb did over what truly they were looking at beyond surface level. The middle of the afternoon was not a time you would be doing this normally.
You had snuck off, so exhausted you had abandoned the duties you stacked upon yourself to rest. Your old chambers were mostly bare. Your personal things had mostly been taken with you to Kings Landing after you and Robb had married, and no doubt not a scrap of that came back. But sheets and furs still clean in there for any guest reasons, it could be relied on to sleep.
Curled up in the middle of the bed, you had wrapped a thick shall around you as if a blanket. Hands tucked up into your chest closer to one side but your head against the pillow was leaning backwards to the opposite side. You were not in the bed, not fur covering you from the cold, but both brothers realized they did not need to be.
Since you were not alone in that room in slumber.
Sturdy behind you, a great sized beast covered your entire body’s length. Leaning forward as if their face was meant to be resting up against your neck. Keeping you warm but safe at your back was Greywind. Your head tilted back as if to nuzzle back against him when he most likely nudged at you for your attention.
On your other side, his head resting so close to you that were you to move your head back to match where the rest of you was faced, they would be able to rest it atop yours. Ghost laid on your other side, facing you just as asleep, but keeping you warm and a degree of comforting. One at your back one at your front, both direwolves slept soundly along with you as if acting guards so none could disturb you in your sleep all together.
It didn’t occur to them until that moment it seemed. The signs all there, your pure exhaustion growing day by day, more sensitive but too were you running ragged. Your duties no more pressing or exhaustive the past few days, you had not strained yourself physically in need of a nap to recuperate. No, it was Robb and Jon who had stressed you.
Marks on your body from Jon the night before more visible then anything Robb would’ve left behind, but he knew too well the manner which was with you in such times. Jon glanced to Robb as he tore his eyes from your sleeping frame to his brother in a wide guilt. They both felt the same thing that Jon whispered in the otherwise peaceful air. “We should’ve gone easier on her days ago.”
Robb echoed exactly as Jon had put it, now that he could see the result. “She needed to rest, but didn’t know how to say no to us.” Grey meeting blue, they both let that build and build inside them. That guilt. Resting in the middle of the day alone, hoping to be ready for one of them that night. Still even when you had to run and hide away from their insatiable appetites for you, you still did it for the benefit of their own wants and needs.
It went entirely unspoken. How Greywind and Ghost both slept with ease at either side of you in the bed. Neither even indicated it ran through their heads. That was something else. That was a leap, a step they hadn’t even considered until that very moment. Considering that was too much. You were Robbs wife as you were Jons, but already sharing you was something different. They shared your body separate from one another. Sharing your small and intimate moments of love like that? That was a step not Robb nor Jon was ready for.
Closing the door behind them, both leaned closer to the other in hushed tones to speak. They refused to speak on that step, but there was one. And of all people who thought of it, it was Jon. The strange idea that Robb never would’ve thought that was an idea he’d consider.
But he did. Jon almost took charge the moment Robb even entertained that idea. Laying out rules and limits and established what was what. “You know a lot about this sort of thing, Snow?”
Whatever reaction he expected, a dark look with not a single shift in demeanour to anything guilty or unusual, it was a strange thought that yes. Perhaps he does. Trying to pry Jon shook his head. Trying to further ask if it was about you, Jon was a little more tense. “I just do. The details don’t matter.”
Raising an eyebrow, Robb let it slide for now at least. Nodding down the hall away from the door, both brothers knew they had much more to discuss in private. Jon of all people knew that he needed to ensure this time, you understood exactly what the two wolves would be talking you into.
Unbeknownst to either, at some point in the next while did Robb and Jon separately come to check on you. Each time, you lay there with Ghost and Greywind more peaceful in sleep then you had in days. And even further unbeknownst to each brother, did you lay there between large wolves of safe warmth, did you not have dreams with were peaceful. Again you dreamt of cries. The feeling of something to be in your arms that was missing, and more did you recognize that the cries were familiar, even if for now, you couldn’t place it.
But when you awoke, you did have the distinct memory of amongst the rest of the foggy dream, you saw bright, wide green eyes like yours.
It was not often that being well rested made you suspicious. For four days and four nights both Starks had taken it very easy on you. Robb never engaged in anything physical beyond the comfort of his kiss, and only lulled you to sleep with a more firm but intimate touch without pushing it to something else. Jon as well, he had toned everything right down to nearly a halt besides his lips to yours. Pulling you close to his chest in such a soft and warm way as you both fell asleep wrapped up in each other innocently. Neither addressed why they had begun acting as such, but they did.
Robb one night, Jon the other and repeat for another two day cycle. You did not complain, but you wondered why. Fierce men of need your wolves were, but yet anytime you brought up anything you could do for them in that manner, they’d shut it down. Robb would laugh with a charming smile. Pull your lips to his by a grip on your chin and mutter enough that you felt a flustered smile come about. “Needy little wife. Can’t even enjoy spending time with her husband without jumping him, can you?”
You’d stammer a protest that it wasn’t what you intended so forward, but Robb would only drag you over to the other side of his chambers, and get you ready for bed with him. Pulling your back firmly into his chest as you both would be able to see Greywind on the furs by his fire. Circling around before curling up facing you both as all three of you fell asleep in the calm.
Jon on the other hand, did not even entertain that discussion. Kissing your forehead before cupping your cheeks to tell you with no uncertainty, “It’s cold tonight, darling. How about you just stay close to keep me warm.” When you had pointed out he in fact was the unusually warm one, he laughed brightly and pulled you in for a chaste kiss. “We keep each other warm.” Ghost both nights hopped up onto the bed as Jon turned you to face him, tucking your face into his chest and keeping you safe in his hold as Ghost lay partially across your feet and snuggling his head in the space your legs intertwined with Jons.
You were so much more well rested and in better both shape and spirits but the why eluded you. The sudden silent solidarity on going easy on you between them when neither indicated thats what they had talked about the other day. Now however, you walked alone to his chambers as evening fell on Winterfell. Jon had made only a scare appearance when food had been put out for supper, pulling you to press his lips to the side of your head muttering that he had somewhere to be, and for you to keep eating.
Robb had not made an appearance at all, but not long after were you to make your way. No guards outside his chamber doors, meaning either he was not in here as you thought or he had told them to leave him in peace for the night. Part of you wondered as you grasped the handle to the door. Did you just walk in? Did you knock first? You didn’t knock when entering Jons chambers without a specific call, but the foolishness then hit you. What would you walk in on of Robb that you weren’t supposed to see? What of him had you not seen or done by now?
As it turned out, that was the right answer. Slinking in as you only opened it enough for you before closing it behind you. Stood at the other side of the room, both much more casually dressed down as if settled in for the night, Robb and Jon stood speaking in hushed tones before both of them turned to the sound of you walking in.
You suddenly felt strangely overdressed, still put together with a proper gown when they looked much more comfortable and at ease. An eyebrow raised, your head tilted the slightest as your tone took on a much more mocking but confused edge. “Being summoned by a King is one thing, but two? A girl isn’t quite certain what to make of that.”
A smirk easy on his lips, Robb made his way over to you, a hand out to gesture to you. Taking your outstretched one, he gracefully pulled you over to him enough you grabbed at his forearms to steady yourself as he held low on your waist. “I imagine most would be nervous about that.”
A single nod of your head slightly to the side to indicate you understood such a stance, but you felt nothing of that nerve as the bright blue of Robbs eyes so easily watched you with that gentleness you for so long had missed. “Should I be?” More of a playful ask, but Robb’s face only flashed with a passing thought of what if you should, without committing to anything beyond the still faint smile.
“Only if you’ve been bad.”
Lips parting slightly, normally such rhetoric was saved for when he had you alone. Your head turning to glance over to Jon, leaning against the wall by Robbs window, arms crossed his chest. Jon looked at you with dark eyes shining in an intensity but he said nothing. Only gesturing with a nod for your focus to return back to Robb. Biting your tongue as you did, finally did you notice that Robb was not so far off either. Intense eyes but more bright as he had you close to him already, not that you understood what this was.
Continuing from where he had left off, still with a tone more flirtatious in nature but still serious to the degree it didn’t shift the air entirely. “Jon and I have been thinking it over, and we both realized you haven’t been very honest about how you’ve been feeling.” A protesting lie was so naturally to come out of your mouth that Robb cut you off. “That wasn’t a question, my love. I didn’t ask for an answer.” Without even thinking, you stayed silent right away. The beat passing between did that silence only make a grin grow on Robbs face. Turning to his brother in amusement, without letting go of you. “Is she only behaving this good because you’re here?”
Trying to glance between them, Jon only looked at you from the distance he stood at with the same dark eyes. Inhaling in thought Jon opened his mouth with a tone that matched in how it rasped out deeply. “She’s always good for me.”
The shiver running down your spine felt dizzying, you really felt lost so far, but Robb’s tone alone demanded you look back up to him. “I don’t even know why we planned any of this, Snow. You could’ve just ordered her to do this and she’d let us. Wouldn’t you, love?” He didn’t even look at Jon as he asked him it, nor did either brother take their eyes off you as Jon answered that he isn’t like that with you.
Biting down on your tongue harder, your heart picked up a tad as you tried to grasp what this mood was and came up with nothing. Finally asking, each word slow and careful as if you could offend either of them for what you didn’t even know about. “I’m sorry, did I do something? I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
Still not bothering to move, Jon answered for Robb with a rasp that had your blood warm a bit. “Of course you don’t.” Meeting his eyes, there was no denying the free manner Jon scoured the length of your body and back. “It doesn't matter what we do, you’re too innocent for any of this to occur to you.”
Tilting your head back by your cheek to Robbs gaze once more, his hand begun trailing from hip to waist to hip, each movement taking a bit of your dress with him almost purposely. “Something about this arrangement isn’t working.” Before you could even think to spiral, Robb knowingly shut it down and fast. “You didn’t do anything wrong, but there is something, a few somethings that need to be said out in the open.” Gesturing over to where Jon still stood, “We’re terrible at sharing you.”
Your brows furrowing, you felt something akin to insulted on their own behalf. Jumping to a defence without hesitation. “I’ve never said that, I’ve never wanted either of you to think I’ve even implied that. We’re fine, we just need time-”
Echoing what now more then one person had said but Jon interjected. “If everything was fine, you wouldn’t be running off in the middle of the day just to sleep in peace without either of us.” You had no idea they knew about that. It was becoming a small little routine when it became too much between them. You would be confronted by Ghost and Greywind naturally sensing your distress and slumbering between the two large get warm direwolves for a little while had become a way to ease you during the day. But you didn’t want Robb and Jon to know, think you didn’t want to spend that time with them but you truly just needed a rest.
Grabbing you by the arms, Robb walked you backwards until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed as he prompted you to sit down. Crouching before you, to look up with that sweet tenderness did Robb come off a little easier about it then Jons unmoving tenseness that you almost couldn’t read from this far away. “I’m not accusing you of anything. No one’s said that but us. We know we’re pushing you too much. Being too rough with you too often.”
A bit of fidgeting coming over you as you looked now at nothing trying to avoid it with a fluster and guilt in your chest. More muttering then anything, “I would’ve said something if I was struggling with-”
“No, you wouldn’t have.” Both your head and Robbs turned to Jon, your more wide eyed and guilty as his grey ones read through your excuses as easy as language came to him. “If we took you every single night until you were desperate for us to stop, can you look at me and tell me you’d honestly say anything?”
You couldn’t lie to Jon, and he knew it. He knew your tells better then anyone when you’d go to form one in your head even before speaking it outloud. Your head dropped a little, and a shake of no confirmed it for both men to hear. It begun to feel as if Robb was leading whatever this was, whereas Jon almost was here to ensure you were kept on a leash. Not let you get away with trying to talk your way out of them thinking you wanted them to change the arrangement they decided for your sake alone.
Reaching up to turn your head to look back at him, Robb let it run down your cheek and settle at the outside of your thigh comfortingly. “Why do you think we’ve taken it so easy on your for days, love? We suddenly stopped wanting you for an unknown reason?” Where your insecurity sat on that issue, you didn’t know for sure. “It’s not easy on us either. You fell in love with two jealous and possessive wolves, sharing you the way we have has been hard. Trading you every other night isn’t working, not being able to be with you properly when we need you the most just beacuse it isn’t our night isn’t working.”
“Are you saying..” You didn’t even want to entertain finishing that thought, you couldn’t handle that thought and Robb could feel it right away as your panic almost picked up considering it as a possibility.
Cupping your cheek, he moved to sit straighter with a smile comforting on his face. “Not even close. We’re saying we need to find a new way to share you. Something that works a little better for all three of us, so we don’t always feel like we’re missing you all the time, and so you don’t feel like you’re letting either of us down.”
It was when you hesitantly asked what they had in mind to start something different, did your eyes find themselves drawn to Jon. A rough exhale as he turned away from watching you with his jaw clenched something agitated strongly. Through more gritted teeth you could only hear not see him say it. “Just tell her.”
The hand by your leg drifted up to your cheek again, only to slide to the back of your head a little more firmly as Robb leaned up even further to you. His warm voice less soothing and much more alluring as your breathing no doubt begun to pick up. His eyes glancing to your lips, downwards and then back much more satisfied. “You and I are going to spend some time with each other, then you and Jon are going to spend some time with each other. Then we see how well you do between us.”
Waiting for it to connect, your eyes widened as you looked between them. “You-”
Jon still hadn’t looked back at you, almost more rough and deep his voice turned trying to force it out. “You know what that means, darling.” The lightheaded wave surging through you that indeed you did, but Robb had said- “Me and Robb agreed on this, but you have to say yes.” Finally looking towards you, Jon certainly held more intense scrutiny then Robb did, looking for any sigh you were about to lie just to say yes for them.
But something about it didn’t..not appeal to you. It was nerve wracking but in truth everything about the two of them made you nervous, especially so physically. “How is that going to work? One leaves the-”
Robb interjected that time. “Neither of us are leaving this room. You do all of this in front of us. We share your body already, there’s no reason to hide it.” Hand at the back of your neck tightening somewhat until you let out a shaking exhale, not much way of hiding the growing need behind it. “Is that a yes?”
You nodded, but Jon was short and almost in a command when he nearly growled, “Outloud.”
Heart picking up in speed, those nerves suddenly flowed through your bloodstream, leaving you feeling lost just sitting there so still and yet this felt strange to want between both of them after so many weeks of a heavy, heavy guilt. “I do. I want this.”
Robb and Jon looked to the other, waiting for a single nod from his brother did Robb turn back to you, pulling you to stand with him. Not a man to waste his own time, Robb almost instantly pulled off the shall which hung around you letting it drop of the ground. One clasp in the front of your dress, then another, then four more before it fell open to the shift underneath.
His eyes brightening as they did turn to something leering with a smirk. Peeking back up to your gaze, you knew he meant and succeeded at the tone perfect to seduce you. “My brother was right. You are so much better when it’s going to always be this easy to undress you.” Pushing it from your shoulders, your arms moved flat down to allow it to drop. The second his hands grabbed at your shift did Jon tell him to stop.
Turning his head with a glare, in your heavy breathing did you find focus enough to tell Jons hands crossed his chest were formed into fists as if needing to clench them roughly to stay grounded while the rest of him begun to look much more like a caged wolf, desperate to be let out in the feral wild. Speaking directly to Robb he let out, “You can’t have everything.”
Peeling his gaze back to you, Robb ran his hand down your side, thumb teasing the curve of your breast before settling on your hips, your own hands up to his waist with nowhere else to go. “I had all of her first, Snow. The first cock she ever took was mine.”
You had not the senses to notice how worked up and unstable he was making Jon as he continued to not invade the two of you. But your core felt a warmth as such a memory came to you once more. The way he made you watch, how little he gave you time to truly work up slowly until he fucked you like a man chasing his end with perversion. And how much you liked it.
“Do you want to take me again?” One hand drew up your arm, over your collarbones and to your neck before running his fingers over your bottom lip, slightly pulling at it almost to force it to drop open. “Show him that I’m the one who taught you how to take a mans cock so deep down your throat? Show him that you sucked my cock only once and it became all you ever wanted to do.”
Oh the flustering embarrassment wanted to throw up in a whine but you bit your tongue trying to not protest, tempting Robb to call out such an obvious lie. You muttered a half truth, but it only made Robb grin in such a dark, wolfish manner. “I thought it was normal to like it.”
Pulling down your lip, Robb held not an ounce of shame as he let his thumb slide into your mouth. Pressing somewhat against your tongue as he raised a knowing brow, you closed your lips around it and gently sucked. The darkening in his eyes spoke you did the right thing. “It isn’t normal that good girls let a man spill down their throats as if it was to be your last meal. It isn’t normal for a good girl to be so quick to drop to her knees the moment a man even suggests he might want you. You’ve never been a good girl, and you know why.”
Nodding somewhat, Robb let his other hand begin unlacing what he could of his breeches from there. Gesturing downwards without removing his thumb, in fact as you sucked he pushed it deeper to the knuckle. Just as he pulled it out for you to try and gasp a bit for air, did you too sink to your knees in front of him.
Safe it was, somewhere in the back of your mind telling you, not to look at Jon yet. Not to agitate the wild white wolf before it was apparently his turn. Instead Robb laughed darkly down to you as he tossed off his softer shirt exposing his chest to his warmer chambers. “I’ll let Jon have you when you’ve proved you earned it. Good girls don’t deserve the things he wants to do to you. And you want to prove to Jon you’re a good girl right?” Shamelessly you nodded, a fog filling your head as it did warm between your legs. “Pull me out then. Get to work.”
You hadn’t even noticed Jon pacing to the other side of the room. Forearm raised up braced against the stone of Robbs fireplace, dark eyes and jaw heavy set as he found himself unable to not look at you the whole time. As if he needed to know. Needed to know for himself that if Robb could speak to you this way, then Jon knew, there was practically nothing he couldn’t do to you anymore. A wave of need flying through him as he turned to see you slowly unlacing his brothers pants when Jon turned away with his eyes closing at the thought.
That Jon did have a set of chains he had always thought you’d look beautiful in.
Slowly did you begun to pull the material down his legs, leaving him in nothing and not too an ounce of shame. Grasping the back of your head, you needed no more instructions. Gentle to rasp his long length, your eyes fluttered closed as you pressed a kiss to the tip. Small as a peck and downward his length one side then the other. Only just briefly using your tongue to leave any sort of proper wet trace for him, trying very much to ignore the way you could feel Jons eyes staring at you.
Only starting with the tip of Robbs cock, he shifted his hand to a position better he could control you with, pushing you down right away, taking away your ability to go slowly. A whine suddenly erupted from your chest as your hands reached up suddenly to grasp at his thighs to try and steady yourself.
The pressure so deep was overwhelming, almost panic inducing if you did not also love how as soon as he got you just over halfway did Robb move you off. The same spot he pushed and pulled your head, your mouth warm soaking his cock as your tongue tried to keep up in any favourable manner. Still just over halfway when you heard Robbs voice, more strained but heavy in a command. “Do the rest yourself.”
Stopping for a moment, trying to will your hear to settle you let your hands drop to brace against the stone floor. Gently moving until just the tip of his cock was in your mouth, you sunk deep back down the length that always set your heart on edge. Filling your mouth, you felt that lighter fog grow more in your head that Robb was so good at pulling from you. Something as you bobbed up and down his cock did you know he was special in that sense.
He could throw you around and talk down to you, make strict commands with little to no praise or reward and everytime it made that fog grow. A feeling that was as if you were an object to hand yourself over to him. A pleasure toy he could order around and you felt even more sensitive all over knowing that. The hand in your hair wasn’t even for you. It was for Robb to control whenever he wanted, he wanted you to know he could control you at any point.
Inch by inch you slowly begun to take his whole length, your arms braced down shaking slightly at the feeling but you never pulled off. Your saliva mixed with what of his cock already begun to leak for you adding both to a taste you needed and an ease at how deep you took him.
Just as you came close to taking his whole length, did Robbs hand tighten to force you to stop. Looking down at you, you kept his gaze with a whine inside you as he dragged you mostly off his cock before sinking you down. Forcing every inch to drag heavy along your tongue until your nose was pressed into the coarse hair around the base of his cock.
That’s when he started to speak again. “I don’t know how you can look at how much she likes it, and not want her to do it every single night.” Gods, he was making it worse. A flustering humiliation as if exposed for such a way you let Robb use your mouth that Jon didn’t enjoy that much, and too how worked up he was purposely trying to make his brother feel. Not knowing Jon never looked at his brother once, just you. Hand clenched high on the wall as his muscles shook watching how you were just kept so deep down Robbs cock.
Your palms tensing at the feeling, knowing you weren’t supposed to alleviate the pressure making your heart pound by grabbing onto him. You knew the rules and your head felt so foggy without Robb even touching you beyond a gentle passing of his hand to your breast down your body. Too you felt Jons eyes no doubt matching that of a wild animal, he said nothing as Robb spoke again.
“You may not have known many women, brother. But none of them are like this one.” His eyes tearing back down to you as if expecting you were still waiting for him to return your gaze, which you certainly were. Tears forming in the sting behind your eyes, the slightest hint of saliva threatening to fall beyond your lips the longer you were kept taking his whole length. Still, he spoke. “Whores will put on an act and pretend they like it, but she truly does. Men can do anything to a whore because they paid for that right. But I know you already know. She’s better then a whore. She acts one because she will do anything you say, and she always likes it. You think how I shove her pretty face into my bed and fuck her from behind like a brute isn’t nice? Well, she doesn’t want nice, does she? Any man can give her nice. She’s not a stag anymore, Snow. A little she-wolf. And wolves don’t fuck nice.”
None of it was really said at or even for Jon. It was humiliation. It was still about you. Spilling such perverse secrets about you outloud as if that was going to change the way Jon looked at you, but with the confidence that it wouldn’t. It was meant to make you wet without ever coming close to touching you and you hated that embarrassing you as such worked so well. You’d clench your thighs together if you thought you could get away with it.
For Jon though? He was nearly digging his nails into his palms. He had to look away again. Unable to watch the way his brother and you looked each other in the eye as he was that deep inside of you. But Jon knew what it felt like. Robb was slightly longer, but Jon certainly was thicker. More then being mean, Jon knew letting you use your mouth on his cock was harder to justify. There never had been a time you sucked his cock, and not at some point, tried to hide the fact that you woke the next morning with your jaw slightly sore.
He stretched you open no matter where he fucked you, and still you took it. But he didn’t understand any of what else he was seeing. The way Robb barley needed to touch you, could talk down and embarrass you with that confidence in comparing you to a whore. It baffled him, why his brother wasn’t choking on the inside at how little he was touching you. How he didn’t destroy his own heart by speaking to you in such a way. But yet you wanted all of it as much as you wanted the opposite Jon gave you. His eyes kept tearing back to look at you, and he knew you felt his gaze, but he could never stay watching. He hated this idea, it was his and he hated it, but his cock throbbed under his breaches thinking about how much he wanted his turn with you already.
Slowly did Robb begin controlling you again, moving you up and down his length making it obvious when pulled more off how much you were soaking him. Good, he’d keep it that way. It would only help.
Heart racing inside your chest, you felt Robb begin to move faster and faster, before simply uncaringly shoving you back down. Coarse hair scratching at your face but your eyes sat closed with a sound of need vibrating against his cock throbbing in your mouth. Deep as he was, there was nowhere for his seed to go but sink down into your stomach as soon as he was to finish. And you could tell he was close.
Muttering your name with gritted teeth, he didn’t pull you off at all to look at you, merely holding your hair so tight it made you cry perfectly around him. Gritting out simply when he finally felt his orgasm peak, he too held you against him. “Fuck..”
The sounds of muffled gags filled the air. His warm seed coming out in spurts that felt as if they never ended. You struggled to even swallow with his cock so far in your mouth, but you wouldn’t be allowed to come off until you took all of it. The tears fell freely then, your hands tense against the floor and your heart and head so foggy and lightheaded that you hardly could hear what sounds you were making beyond swallowing and gagging.
Only once you had nothing else left, you normally would’ve been good. Clean his cock of everything else but Robb pulled you from him right away. Leaving slight trails of saliva and his seed visible against your lips as you gasped for air so suddenly. Running along the back of your neck massagingly, Robbs other hand tilted your head up. Cupping the side of your face and running his thumb over your cheek. You knew you looked up brightly at him as if to ask in silence if you were good. Robb only nodded, a bit of a smug pride in him.
Slowly your heart slowed, lungs filling with air as Robb slowly pulled you up. Not to stand, but sitting you back on the edge of the bed. Smart it seemed Robb was though, the feeling of metal finding your lips and prompting you to drink. The taste of wine unexpected, but you realized in the back of your mind it was to wash out the rest of traces of you. Not enough to give even any change to you, but certainly enough that it wiped clean your mouth as if starting you fresh.
Only a panic was felt in your confused fog of a head at the sudden feeling of Robb pulling away, but replaced just as fast as Jons striking warmth suddenly kneeled in front of you. Cupping your cheeks as you caught your breath, your hands gripping the fur below them as your eyes struggled to stay open yet. “Are you alright?” You nodded, but running one hand down your hair soothingly, Jon leaned closer with a worried look in his narrow eyes. “Catch your breath first.” Your heart finally settled enough you didn’t need to feel that strain in your lungs when Jons voice made your eyes open to find his grey ones both bright and yet dark and black. “There we go.”
Leaning enough he could nudge his nose against yours, you felt relieved that his curls were loose. Resting your forehead against him, the dancing of his curls hit your skin as your hands moved to grasp at his shoulders. A hand ran soothingly over the back of your head until he gestured for you to look back at him.
Your eyes slipped closed first, following his lead as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. Now the only thing for him was the taste of wine and you. Not urgent not even greedy, Jon deepened it despite his kiss being slow. Something which exploded into your mouth of a passion he had not words to express whatsoever. Only pulling away after pressing two more shorter kisses to your lips. Jon waited until you opened your eyes to meet his gaze again. “I’m going to take this off you.” Gesturing down to your shift.
Nodding, you barley had to move, Jon pulling it up your hips and waist before your hands cooperated to let him take it all off, letting it drop blindly beside him. Sighing deeply as he looked over your now bare frame, that dark need returned quickly as did the tension in his jaw. One hand of yours curled back into his hair, the other gripping his shoulder as you waited. That time you noticed Robb freely looking at you. His cock still hard as ever and soaked. Covered in both your mouth and his own seed, but leaning against a wall closer then Jon was before by the window, arms crossed with a needing yet curious gaze.
Drawing your focus back to him as Jon muttered your name, one hand moved down to your breast. Rough, calloused hand groping the plush skin as you moved into his touch. Thumb running over your nipple already toying with what he would normally do, as his other hand too drifted to the other. Grasping handfuls of both breasts, Jon groped roughly. Squeezing as he pushed them together and back as your eyes closed and a small cry left you.
“You can play later, Snow-”
Head turning over to glare at him, Jons voice was but a deep husk biting in anger. “I didn’t interrupt you.” A stare off before Robb relented, leaning back again to the wall as Jons eyes did not soften as he returned to your gaze. Voice softer, but the husk shuttered your insides in a warmth no matter what. “She deserves to be touched.”
Small sighs leaving you that wanted to turn to moans as the sparks he pulled as his fingers twisted at the buds in the perfect point of pain. Trying to stammer a voice out, but each twist and pull and grope caught you enough that no sound could be said unless forced out between breathless sounds of gentle need. “What are...what do you want me to do?”
It was a genuine ask, what he wanted. But Jon left one breast to cup your cheek. Hooded eyes staring back at his leering ones. “Nothing. You know that. Come on.” Suddenly moving to lay you back against the bed, your heart begun to race all over again as Jon positioned your legs to hand the right amount off the edge with your hips. Pulling his own shirt off, he leaned up over you to capture your lips with his. The slightest tease of his tongue against your bottom lip but he pulled away just as you parted them. Kissing a path of light and gentle presses of hips lips down your neck, between the valley of your breasts, stomach and finally kneeling on the ground in front of you with his hands on your thighs.
Sliding to your knees, Jon pulled them apart as your eyes closed and tongue bitten down on, avoiding the sight which flustered you so. First bracing them to your thighs as if prepared to push you wider for him, Jon was slow in his start. Much more innocent kisses left to the inside of your thighs, but the further to your soaking warmth he got, the more rough it was. The more he left a sucking bruise, the more he dug his teeth just enough he could pull away and see indents. One side matching the other before finally Jon pushed one leg open wider, and bracing the other up on his shoulder, letting your calf and foot rest falling down against his back.
Not that you watched, but black eyes scoured the sight. A darkness of the warmth you gifted his mouth but not yet diving in. Jon was gentle, letting his nose brush up against your clit as if to ease you into it. The first swipe of his tongue to your clit, a small whine burst from you like a shy moan trying to hide itself, your hands on either side of you grasping the furs between your fingers on the bed. One lick then the next, gentle and sweet as if a treat being given.
Yet it was not a treat, Jon treated you as if you were the feast. Tongue running flat against your clit, suddenly sucking the bundle of nerves sharply. Small patterns made, you could hardly tell what they were beyond the rising heat in your core, the buzzing around it from the feeling growing hot within you. Lick after luck, a gentle sucking but cut off by his teeth ever so slightly grazing against it and your back arched up off the bed without thinking.
Jons hands at your hips firmly, allowed one to sit at your stomach and force you back down to the bed without any other words. So worked up you felt, your head growing heavy and foggy ever more as Jons tongue drew you closer and closer, just tight motions to your clit without mercy, the sloppiness of it knowing it wasn’t just for you. Grasping your hips both tightly, you would’ve jumped in his hold otherwise as the first one snapped. A twisting metal inside of you that had been chipped away at slowly and yet Jon gave no time for you to enjoy it alone.
The moment your orgasm first flowed over you, did Jon run his mouth over your core with what was no other then a greed. Tongue fat and flat as he soaked up everything he could taste with a grunt. Pulling your hips more to his mouth like a starving animal. Soaking you more then he even was you, Jon feasted upon the sweetness of your cunt.
Running inside of you before tracing a path to your clit and back. His mouth never ceasing his work as growls came from his chest vibrating against you. One hand of yours suddenly drifted to his hair, not harsh in his curls but almost the way you’d grasp at his hand when you needed his touch more. Burning inside of you, Jons tongue felt so good against you that you didn’t even hear the beginning soft whispered pleas of his name.
Drinking from you like an animal at a watering lake, one hand ran down from your hip more to grasp at the meat of your ass, not just making you lay closer to his mouth but raising you up somewhat from the bed so he had even easier access. A mess he made of you as you felt the white hot twisting again but the nerves in your body filling your blood with a pleasure you couldn’t do anything about but lay and take it.
To Robb, you were an utter sight. Lips parted open in gasps and cries, eyes unable to even look at a bit of what was being done to you and your body arching on display as your hand yet was so gentle in Jons curls. He had never seen you this way, or had you this way, and again did the jealousy flare up that Jon had this over him. Without much experience of this himself, Robb still could tell almost with an anger, that Jon certainly knew what he was fucking doing. The man drank from your cunt like an expert beyond learning.
Running along you from cunt to clit and back, Jons own mouth was so warm against you and a sweat begun to cover you. His heat bleeding into yours. Growls leaving him at the taste, Jon would more likely attack the first man who tried interrupting him now then parting from you. He was utterly addicted to your taste, without even meaning to lead you there Jon pulled you to a second orgasm and yet as you gifted his mouth more as you shook around him, Jon only was more aggressive about it. Never let up.
Tears that time fell from your eyes but at how overwhelmed the sting would become the longer Jon kept you there, the more he refused to ease up because he knew your limits and you didn’t. One orgasm again, then another before he had anywhere near his fill and you felt weak in your bones. Tearing from you, Jons forehead rested against your mouth to catch his own rough breath before his black eyes tore up to his brother. “Remember what I said?” Robb must have nodded because Jon continued to rasp out, “Get her up.”
Eyes opening, you tried pushing up on your elbows to see him, but Jon suddenly rose as he uncaringly shoved the rest of his clothes off, standing before the bed never looking away from you at his thick length taunting you. Robb it seemed, had no qualms about snatching you up, kneeling bare on the bed behind you with a hand grasping at your neck with one and pulling at your hip with another to get you to sit more on your heels in front of him. Muttering low in your ear but not enough Jon couldn’t hear him.
“So many rules he has for you. You let him control you, don’t you? I order you around, my love, but you let Jon own you.” In truth, he didn’t seem angry about it and it also was not a lie in your fog of a mind and you nodded. The hand at the base of your neck only tightening a second to get your eyes to stop fluttering closed. “If to me you’re a whore, to Jon you’re nothing more then a toy to fuck, aren’t you?”
Biting your tongue noticeably hard you nodded, Robb laughing dark in your ear as he moved you to pay attention as Jon kneeled in front of you. A hand coming to the opposite side of the arm at your neck of Robbs, Jon cupped your cheek. His other holding something you had yet to notice. “If you don’t want this, it’s alright to tell us. Now, or at any point. You say anything, and this stops.”
Trying to shake your head, Robb moved his hand at your neck more down to sit at your waist awfully high close to your breast. “I won’t want to-”
Tugging you to look at him more seriously there was no room for question here. “No, darling. You tell me the second you stop enjoying it. No matter how close either me or Robb is, you tell us you can’t do this anymore and we stop.” Robb assuring in your ear that the last thing they want is for you to feel too guilty to say no. Leaning forward to catch your eyes Jon asked, “Do you understand what we’re about to do?”
A very quiet “Yes.” And Jon handed something to Robb behind you.
As he grabbed whatever the vial you saw was, he allowed Jon to suddenly grab you. Pulling you up to straddle him perched just against his cock near red from the blood pooling there for so long you imagined. His thumb moving down to run over your clit, you jumped at the sudden spark but not nearly enough to avoid the way Jons other hand grabbed at your side. Holding you steady right up against him the moment you felt it. Some kind of oil on Robbs fingers as he pulled one cheek of your ass wider and sunk one finger to the knuckle in your ass.
Head dropping to Jons shoulder he buried his face in your hair with gentle shushes as one hand ran over the sweating strands knowing it always was a lot to do this. Slowly one by one, Robb moved his fingers in and out of you. Opening you up perfectly for him despite the strange feeling of a pain and pleasure unique to such an act. Robb hissed close in your ear to his brother. “Can she take three?”
You felt Jons eyes staring down at you, and a single nod was given. Suddenly the fingers at your clit slid down, two sinking deep into your soaking entrance as Robb pushed a third finger into your ass. Full in both, tried to raise your head up to say anything of need, but words failed as you were nothing but a mess between them.
Cupping your cheek to look at him, Jons eyes tore up and down with almost a disbelief. “You’re a mess, darling.” Both your hands at his shoulders, you just nodded with a cry making your head drop. So suddenly without any notice, did the feeling and sensitivity draw another orgasm from you. Robb not stopping how deeply he let his fingers sink in and out of you, used his other hand to brace your hip steady as Jon kept two of his to the knuckle inside your cunt as he held your forehead to his to keep you grounded to something. Muttering in a rasp once more, “You have no idea how perfect you are.”
Trying to shake your head as your thighs shook, Robb suddenly leaned more over your shoulder to bite at your ear and down to your neck. “Letting us do this to you? Letting both of us take out turns fucking you every night the way we want? Letting us both love you no matter how much it pisses the other one off? You are perfect for us, love.”
You had not the head space to quite comprehend what he was saying not did they expect you too. “She ready?” Jon must’ve been asking Robb that, beacuse whatever mumble Robb said in return Jon pulled his fingers from you and grasped at your hips. Moving you up to his cock like a boneless rag doll, looking to your eyes Jons were black and once more serious as anything. “Anytime, darling. Any time you want to stop, I promise.”
You didn’t respond, and Jon must not have expected you too with the mess you were. Sinking you down not so slowly, taking his thick length even with how much he prepared you was always something that shocked you. Grasping around his shoulders and back with a cry, the stretch and the fill was such a pain and pleasure that your whole body felt it was a burning inferno. But he wasn’t done, or they weren’t.
The tip of Robbs cock at your ass, he cupped your neck and jaw to slightly turn you to look at him, only to be met with hooded eyes, and a glassy look over them that spoke you were not quite going to be totally aware. “I’d tell you to breath, but pretty little whores have done this a thousand times haven’t they?”
Jon almost protested at that language now, but you just nodded meekly. Jon as he cupped your cheek to look at you, also caught that glassy look behind your eyes. Sharing a worried look to Robb, he was assuring in his nod that you were alright. And in fact, putting you into such a space seemed to be the best for this. Not much of a flinch but a gasping cry into a begging sob as Robb slowly filled your ass with his cock.
Sinking every single inch and savouring how tight you were gripping him, Jon was hardly better off with the way your walls clenched around him. A growl making his breathing more unsteady as he now kept your eyes on his, another hand steady at your hip the opposite of Robb. A small attempt to call to you, “Darling..”
But you nodded as if he gave you a command, hands perched on his shoulders again you sat up to try and move, wanting to feel him fill you again and again but both wolves kept you steady. Robb seemed to know the manner which to speak to you here, “You don’t give, love. You just take.” That nod matched what you gave Jon.
Your head was hardly out of the clouds, nothing but such perfect pleasure as both cocks long and thick filled you every inch and you didn’t understand how you were supposed to be anything else but this. Robb moved first, easing in and out of your ass as the strangeness subsided to an unusual desire making cries from you much more loud and distinct.
At the same time, almost in matching, Jon begun moving you up and down his cock. Slow it started, both finding their pace as you cried between them with no words. Just a fire inside of you that wasn’t being put out and all you could think was maybe it was to be found in being filled by both of them just like this. Robb pressed close to your back and Jon your front, you were warm and trapped between two unbearably strong wolves.
The sounds of skin slapping against skin was something else in that room. The manner which Jon and Robb could work in rhythm of how to fuck you faster and harder and never break that harmony of sinking so deeply inside of you. Deeper and rougher Jons cock dragged thick against your sensitive walls and Robb dragged against something you didn’t even understand but was nothing but moans to accept.
“Gods, please...” You barley had a voice, a high pitched breathless beg as tears fell from you and yet you moved with them as if you were born to it. Rougher and rougher both of them begun to pound into you, in one moment Robb could drag you back against him.
Mutters in your ear between each rough fuck inside of your ass, “Innocent little wife, taking two wolves like a perfect slut. A toy just for us.”
You’d say yes in a moan, only for Jon to pull you back to him and fuck up into you each time he bounced you back down onto his cock. A rough, urgent and biting kiss to your lips, saliva connected you both as you found his eyes. Close enough his hot breath danced across your sweating skin. “You were made for us, darling. Fuck- the old gods created you just for us, for this.” Another kiss he gave you no chance to respond not that you could.
Flooding you, your orgasm twisted that coil and released it in a snap as fast as it too begun to wrap around that burning inside your core before it was even over. Robb was so deep and so unforgiving the way he fucked into your ass over and over, treating you with all the aggression you’d see on his face during the war but being taken out by your ass surrounding his cock like a vice he had to fuck harder just to sink into. Jons cock so deep and so thick you felt as if his promise of a child was to come true in this position alone. Sometimes finding his eyes but you were not at all aware of the beauty they found in how starry eyed you seemed to be in taking both of them as mean as they were inside of you.
Robb hissed as he suddenly held your hip a lot tighter, his thrusts rough and slower out of sync with Jons as he found himself close. “You better be close, Snow because she’s too fucking tight to hold back anymore.”
Kissing you once more, Jon actually slowed down. Never letting you more then halfway off his cock before sinking you back down slowly but matching his brothers pace. Rasping in an entrancing tone to you, “Can you come for us one more time, darling?” Nodding yes, he made you say it outloud with a more stern order and you nearly begged it.
Trying to move against both of them, Robb rested his forehead against the back of yours as both hands were grasping you low more by your ass to ensure he could pound into you with as much force as he could with every cry you gave him. Jon fucked up slowly into as he cupped your cheek with one hand and guided you to bounce slowly up and down his cock with the other.
He didn’t need to do much, but pulling you gentle to his lips. Your gasp letting him slip his tongue inside of you, your grasped at his curls desperately as both mens cocks throbbed inside of you to the point it flushed you with that perfect explosion of heat. Burning through you, Jon didn’t let you go. Never let your moans and cries leave anywhere but his kiss and yet the moment you clenched around both men, did their ends find you.
Robb pushing himself deep inside of you, as he finally came. Spurting ropes of seed inside of you endlessly as he moved his head to kiss at your neck as he came down. Jon refused to let your kiss go, suddenly pulling you down far onto his cock as much as possible before he too finished. His cum was noticeably thicker and much hotter compared to Robb who filled you more.
You fell limp against Jon when he finally pulled from your lips. Muttering your name, Jon suddenly while still inside you, grasped at your sweating hair and cupping your cheek with another. Nudging your nose with his me rasped in a gentle urgency. “It’s alright, you’re alright you did perfect for us. You’re perfect.”
Robb kissed his way to your ear, “No man but us has ever had such a beautiful, sweet wife to fill over and over.” Pressing more kisses to your neck, both wolves kept you there and on their cocks until they were even ready to think of leaving your tight warmth. Robb started first, shushing and consoling you each and every inch until you had none left of his length. Cupping your ass with one hand and running his other up and down your waist, he did the same of gentle words as Jon pulled out of you too.
You knew you were awake, but you felt little but the warmth between them, their seed which spilled double so deep inside of you and the phantom sensations as if they were still inside you. Barley hearing Robb muttering to Jon, “She’ll be like this for a while. Lay her down.”
Twisting you, Jon laid you on your side, an ease for the much rougher act for your ass, but parting your thighs from one another to ease the tension of strain he knew he gave you. Without thought, as Robb laid on this side at your back with a soothing hand over your back and side, you found yourself seeking out Jons warm front. Pulling you close to curl into his chest, his grasp was by your hip more as he let the top of his head rest in your hair. Your own head as such, leaned back a little bit, seeing out Robb who pressed a kiss to your neck and the back of your head as he nuzzled against it. A genuine whisper on your lips, you hadn’t fallen asleep but you were too lost to the clouds of Robb and Jon to have any energy but lay cuddled between them. “I love you.”
In truth, after a moment, both men chuckled a bit realizing that was likely at both of them. Robb moved to mutter it back in your ear before pressing a kiss to the skin below it, Jon tilting you enough to press a kiss murmuring it against your forehead. Again did your body seem to seek both of them out to go back to the comforting way they held you.
Neither Robb nor Jon addressed that they lay with you here, in the exact way they had stumbled upon you napping with Greywind and Ghost. All four of them were your wolves, as you were all four of theirs to protect and treasure.
As you lulled to sleep, your mind faded into a dream of the sounds and sight of a dark haired baby boy with bright green eyes staring up at you, a wolf placing him in your arms and pulling you close to kiss the side of your head as the feeling that something which was missing might be found here.
Somewhere in another dream was a life you wondered if it was your true one, and this was the distant fantasy.
#jon snow x reader#robb stark x reader#jon snow#robb stark#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#jon snow x you#robb stark x you#jon snow imagine#robb stark imagine
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Heyyy☺️ well if it's still possible to request for the bingo... could I request Helion x Reader x Azriel with public sex, please
Anything for youuuu!
CW: D/s dynamics, oral (m!receiving), orgy (not described in detail)
Scarred fingers tug at the golden collar around my neck. I hum, settling back against my lover's broad, warm chest, sipping the wine from his cup since mine ran dry a while ago. I should've known he wouldn't drink at an event like this, my keen-eyed shadowsinger preferring to keep his mind just as sharp when it's not just us tucked away in the palace.
And tonight's crowd is sizeable, to say the least.
My eyes drift, as they always do, over the writhing bodies to Helion at the heart of it all: shining like the sun with a lovely faun straddling his lap. The antlers rising from her dark curls are strung with little golden faelights, and the freckles splattered across her bare back match the sweet little white speckles on her furred legs. She's a beautiful female, a favorite of his, and they're always such a joy to watch together.
But tonight, I feel a little more possessive, like something vicious and feral has seized my heart. The wine helps to dull the feelings swirling in my breast, but it doesn't erase them. Not completely.
"You truly don't mind?" Azriel asks, trailing those lovely fingers along my spine as he nips the tip of my ear. I tilt my head curiously, and he wastes no time sprinkling light, teasing kisses along the line of my neck as he grabs my hips, tugging me more fully against him. Here in our shadowed alcove overlooking the party, no one's paying us any mind.
I wouldn't mind if they did, though. This time, at least. I wouldn't mind showing him off.
"I certainly don't mind this," I giggle, tangling my fingers with his as the shadows whisk my cup away.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"What do you mean, Azriel?" Hazel eyes flicker with uncertainty as they meet mine, and I lean up to brush my lips lightly against his. "Clearly I don't mind sharing, not with you."
"With her?"
"I haven't minded in the past." All true. And I might not mind now if we hadn't started this...thing with Azriel. Those strong, rough hands turn me in his lap until we're face to face, and I rest my hands on his broad, sun-kissed shoulders. Veins of copper snake between the flecks of green in his hazel eyes, reminding me of the ancient pine trees and snowcapped mountains he tells me about on the nights when the fire burns low in our chambers and sleep has yet to find us.
If I ask kindly enough, I wonder if his High Lord would allow him to take me. Just once. I'd like to see it, all of it, to know him better...if he would allow it.
There are still so many parts of Azriel I cannot touch. How unfair it is that he should be able to see all of me and keep so much of himself tucked away.
"And now?" A ghost of a smile plays at his lips at my disgruntled hum. "You're too tense to be enjoying yourself, my jewel."
"I am, it's just...I think I'm feeling a little sensitive. A little possessive. Like I want to claim what's mine." Light dances in his eyes once more, and Azriel leans his head back to watch me as I straddle his thighs. "But I'm aware that I...I might not have a right to. Not really." Not as far as he's concerned. Everyone knows where Helion and I stand, where the boundaries of our relationship lay.
If I'm honest with myself, Helion's truly not the issue tonight. But this isn't a subject I know how to broach.
My fingers trail over his tattoos, beautiful swirling lines of black ink that never seem to dull against Azriel's skin, following them down to the golden chain connecting the piercings decorating his chest.
I wonder if he wears gold when he's away from us, too. If he keeps that reminder of warmth in those cold, distant mountains of the north. If he thinks of us at all.
His wings rustle as his fingers catch my chin, bringing my gaze back to his. I chew at my lower lip until his thumb tugs it free, running over the plush, bitten flesh until it sneaks between my teeth instead. I swirl my tongue over its tip just to watch that slow, calculating smirk spread across his handsome face.
He really is too good looking.
"You've been doing a lot of thinking, haven't you?" He nods when I do, tapping the tip of his finger lightly against my tongue until my lips part for him. "Too much, perhaps."
Shadows swirl over my skin, cool and sweet as their master. I think he likes the look of them on me. They slip beneath the sheer fabric of my gown, and his eyes follow them down, down, down to where the fabric bunches around my thighs. My breath catches in my throat as they slide over the most sensitive parts of me, touching and teasing as his fingers slide between my lips.
"You're so lovely." The whispered praise settles over me as the din of the party grows muffled, like it's all slipping away. In our shadowed corner of this gilded hall, he is the brightest thing I see. I can feel his body stirring in response to mine, the hand squeezing my hip tugs me forward, urging me to move.
So I do.
Planting my hand on the muscled plane of his abdomen, I shift my hips until I find a rhythm that makes his breath hitch. Azriel's smoldering hazel eyes grow heavy-lidded as he watches me, and I finally allow mine to close as I focus on how incredible the hot, hard length of him feels beneath me. He moans appreciatively, his grip tightening on my hip, and suck hard at the fingers in my mouth just to hear more of those lovely noises.
Between the stimulation from his shadows and the feeling of him beneath me, completely at my mercy, I think I could spend forever like this. Gods, I want to.
Another pair of hands, warm and familiar, brush over my bare shoulders as Helion's mouth closes over the pulse in my neck. I gasp has he sucks hard enough to leave a mark, and my dress vanishes in a whisper of raw power...along with Azriel's pants. When Helion decides he wants something, he usually takes it. I open my eyes when I feel him reach between Azriel and I to drag the tip of the shadowsinger's cock along my sex. The Illyrian beneath me watches with a hazy, feline smile as he trails his damp fingers from my mouth along the center of my body, marking me. Claiming me.
"You might be content to hide here in the shadows, my loves," Helion whispers against my temple, "but not from me. Let me watch you."
"We're not hiding," I gasp as slick fingers swirl around my clit, "are we, Azriel?"
"I'd argue we've attracted quite the crowd- fuck," our lover hisses as Helion's thumb slides over his tip, swirling our arousal along the flushed, sensitive skin.
"Well, if you're not hiding, sweetheart, would you be willing to entertain us further?"
"Sir?" I ask sweetly, fluttering my lashes as I look up at him, and he gives me a regal smile as he settles on the lounge at our lover's side.
"Get on your knees," he commands, giving Azriel's cock an appreciative squeeze. Our lover's strangled whimper has me scrambling off of his lap onto the plush rug beneath us. Lowering my lips to the tip of his cock, I whine as Azriel's shadows slip inside of me, stretching me. Preparing me. Helion's hand tangles in my hair, gently guiding my movements, urging my head lower. It feels good to give him control, to allow him to use me like this. To not have to think.
"Good girl," the High Lord murmurs. "Let us see you. Let everyone see you."
#talk to me#ask game#kinkvember bingo#azriel x reader#azriel x reader x helion#helion x reader#helion x reader x azriel
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𝟎𝟔 - 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨

pairings. idol!ot13 x m!14thmember!oc. word count. 0.7k. genre. parellel universe au, extra member au, angst.
warnings. sasaengs.
writers notes. introducing the people i hope disappear from the face of the earth - sasaengs. you guys heard about the jk situation? fucking disgusting. anyway, one more before i disappear lol. i hate like 4-5 paper works due and i think im not sleeping anytime soon, feel free to drop me any inboxes.
my imperial friend and supporter, @sousydive
network: @mansaenetwork
[open] series taglist. @vixensss @mnjrosn @hazeljisulatte @straykidsstanforeverandever @cchewhaz
@i-am-confused-about-life @unlikelysublimekryptonite @nenesvt
chapter index | navigation | main page | kofi | ao3
The van was quiet except for the steady hum of the engine and the soft, even breaths of the members scattered around him. Wonwoo adjusted his glasses carefully, the frames slipping down his nose as he tilted his head just slightly to glance at Gyuhan, who was slumped against his shoulder, fast asleep.
Gyuhan looked younger like this, the sharp edges of his determination softened by exhaustion. His lips were slightly parted, his dark lashes casting faint shadows against his cheeks. Chan was curled up on Gyuhan’s lap, his fingers tangled in the fabric of Gyuhan’s hoodie, as if even in sleep, he was afraid Gyuhan might disappear if he let go.
Wonwoo’s chest ached.
It had only been a few months since debut, but the weight of their past lives pressed down on them all—everyone except Gyuhan. Sixty years of memories between them, lifetimes of experience in the idol industry, and yet here they were, watching their youngest member struggle to keep up, not because he lacked talent, but because he was the only one who hadn’t lived this before.
The comments online didn’t help.
“Why is Gyuhan always a beat behind?” “He’s dragging the group down.” “They’d be perfect without him.”
Wonwoo had seen them. He knew Gyuhan had too.
The music cut off abruptly, and Gyuhan had stumbled, his chest heaving as he braced his hands on his knees. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto the polished floor.
“Again,” he panted, reaching for the remote to restart the track.
Soonyoung, who had been watching from the corner, stepped forward. “Gyuhan-ah, it’s 3 AM. You need to rest.”
Gyuhan didn’t look up. “I’ll rest when I get it right.”
Wonwoo, leaning against the mirror, caught the way Gyuhan’s hands trembled—raw and blistered from hours of practice. He pushed off the wall. “You are getting it right.”
Gyuhan finally lifted his head, his eyes dark and exhausted. “Then why does it still feel like I’m failing, hyung?”
The words hung in the air, heavy and unanswerable.
Because the truth was, Gyuhan wasn’t failing. Not really. He was learning at a normal pace—an exceptional pace, even. But compared to the rest of them, who moved with the effortless precision of decades of muscle memory, he stood out.
And the world had noticed.
On the day of the fan meeting, the venue was packed, fans waving lightsticks and screaming their names as SEVENTEEN moved through the crowd, stopping at each section to greet them. Gyuhan smiled brightly, bending down to accept letters and small gifts, his laughter ringing even as Wonwoo noticed the tension in his shoulders.
Then he saw her.
A woman in the third row, her expression cold, her gaze locked onto Gyuhan. Wonwoo’s instincts prickled. He’d seen her before—at the last fansign, lingering near the exit, watching.
Gyuhan reached for a stuffed toy a fan had dropped, and in that split second, the woman’s arm jerked forward.
Something dark and liquid arced through the air.
Time slowed.
The bottle hit Gyuhan square in the face, ink splattering across his skin, dripping into his eyes, his mouth, his collar. Gasps erupted around them. Gyuhan staggered back, his hands flying up instinctively, but he didn’t scream. Didn’t even look surprised.
Just… resigned.
Chaos erupted.
Mingyu lunged forward, his voice a roar as security grabbed the woman. Chan screamed Gyuhan’s name, his face white with shock. The other members surged around him, blocking him from view, but Wonwoo couldn’t move.
Because Gyuhan, ink streaking down his cheeks like tears, whispered something that shattered him:
“I’m sorry.”
That night, Gyuhan sat on the edge of the bathtub, scrubbing at the stubborn stains on his neck. The ink had mostly washed off, but faint traces remained, clinging like shadows.
Wonwoo leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed, his throat tight. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Gyuhan’s hands stilled. He didn’t look up. “Then why does it feel like I do?”
The words were quiet, broken.
Wonwoo didn’t have an answer.
Because the truth was, they had failed him. Their experience, their past lives, their carelessness—they had set him up to be a target. And now, ink-stained and bruised, Gyuhan was paying the price for existing in a world that hadn’t been made for him.
Wonwoo wondered if, in all their sixty years of memories, they had ever hurt someone as badly as they’d hurt Gyuhan—without ever laying a finger on him.
What can we do? What could we do? Why are we even failing in this life, too?
© yiichan, 2025
origin of divider
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True Father- (Helaena x M! Reader)
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʙᴏʀɴ ꜱᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀᴇᴍᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴀᴇɴᴀ & ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ/ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟᴀᴇɴᴀ. ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜱɴɪᴘᴘᴇᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ᴅ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ.
It took everything to keep yourself in the good graces of hawking eyes that loomed from stone perches. How’d it always been when kneeling to pick up a wandering spider, spindly legs creeping over your fingers until crossing the bridge to hers.
The two of you more focused on caring for the bugs and birds that crossed kingslanding to find you. “She’s an idiot” Aegon would grumble to his younger bother, both still watching the two of you below.
They’d always be watching. As the years passed and bodies grew to carry smaller ones. Your hands smoothing over the fabric of Helaena’s gown and the rounded curve of her belly. Always there and lingering while Aegon slithered away to brothels and Aemond sadly departed for classes.
You would remain with her, even while her siblings grew to hate yours. “I could never hate you…” her voice soft in your imagination, eyes dancing over the written words of her most recent letter to you.
It the early day when no light from the sun reached the tower you wrote back to her. Scribbling down on the pages and waiting for the ink to dry before sealing the letter shut. Packing a bag with toys and gifts to bring and shower the twins with.
Arms open as the small bundles of white hair jumped to you. “Hello my darlings !” Strong arms hoisting the twins up as they squealed in excitement. Excitement Helaena could only join as she crept closer in. The privacy of the woods allowing the soft press of your lips to hers, foreheads pressed close and tired eyes able to rest.
While always loyal to your family the burden of the war grew heavy on weary shoulders. Declaring for Aegon only if it meant the safety of Everyone for what your mind planned. Even in the dead of night with another letter being written the sound of thundering feet filled the halls. The guards at your door ushering you awake as a great commotion filled the castle.
“What- what has happened !?” Came quickly from you as Helaena came into view. Jaehaera pressed tightly to her chest as you pushed past the worrying ladies, “they killed the boy…” was all the words she could muster. Eyes glassy and distant even when meeting your own.
The night didn’t go much better on as emotions quickly ran high and far higher. Spending it soothing Jaehaera while Aegon came and quickly broke down. Perhaps hearing your own screams didn’t come easy as the still room made a mockery of you both.
Hand in hand, looking over at the blood drenched cradle while Jaehaera slept cradled in your arms. “We should go” was all that you managed to whisper holding her hand tighter.
The sack in her free hand almost non existent as quietly the dragon pit was relieved of Dreamfyre.
Touching down and walking uninterrupted until the black council stood before. Face splattered with dried crimson and Helaena’s stained hands, setting the thudding sack onto the table. The dark crown of rubies and sapphire eye spilling out with each head of silver hair in accompaniment.
#male reader#reading#fantasy#house of the dragon#house targaryen#hotd spoilers#hotd#helaena targaryen#queen helaena#hotd helaena#helaena x reader#helaena x you
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Weisshaupt: Receiving the News
Featuring: Elysia from @bubblecat-co, Jerran from @teamtakagi, Kalais M. from @sleepingtodream and Lin from @wardentabriis
Companion piece to Jin’s Letter here: https://www.tumblr.com/wickedadaar/787890673657479168/weisshaupt-jins-letter?source=share
Word count: 583
The day after returning from Rivain, Jin sat in silence in her office in the dead of night, rereading the letter she had received that afternoon for what must have been the tenth time, still unable to believe it. Weisshaupt was in danger. The darkspawn horde was led by an archdemon, and it was marching on Weisshaupt. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and splattered on the parchment as her jaw hung open. Once she was finally able to move again, she went to work. First, she needed to write Elysia. She needed to leave a note, a letter, something for her so she would know where Jin went. Knowing how grave the situation was, she needed to say goodbye. She couldn’t talk to her face-to-face; that was out of the question. Her sense of duty and loyalty to the order were unshakeable, except when it came to Elysia. If anyone could talk Jin out of this, it would be her. That’s a chance she couldn’t take. Her brethren needed her. First Warden be damned, she was going to Weisshaupt and bringing every Lighthouse Warden she could with her.
She moved quickly, gathering supplies before using the bell the Caretaker installed to rouse the rest of the Wardens. They slowly emerged one by one from their rooms, half asleep and rubbing their eyes. “Sarge, what’s going on?” Kalais was concerned. “It’s the middle of the night, Sarge. Is someone dead?” Jerran joked, clearly annoyed at his rest being interrupted. “It’s Weisshaupt,” Her tone was grim, and her expression was solemn. “The horde is led by an arch demon, and it’s marching on Weisshaupt.” Silence fell over the room as the news sank in. The air became thick and tense. They all looked to her for guidance, for orders. “Get dressed, gather your things. Leave notice for those you might leave behind. We’re leaving as soon as possible.” She disappeared back into her office to don her gear and finish gathering her things. She left Elysia’s letter in the middle of her desk, impossible to miss. She kissed it for luck and muttered to herself, “Forgive me, my love.”
When she reemerged from her room, nearly every Warden under her command was dressed and ready to depart, except Lin. She couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t a Warden anymore. She chuckled wryly to herself as she slid a note she had hastily scribbled under his door so he knew where they had gone. “Darkspawn endangering Weisshaupt. Warn the others. Gone to help -JC,” was all the note said, but it was unmistakably her handwriting, tight and neat, written with Warden blue ink. She turned back to the others. “When we get there, we’ll break off into small groups. Morella,” she looked to her Lieutenant. “You’re my second in command. You’ll lead one group, I’ll take the other.” She turned back to the rest of the group. “This might be our last stand, ladies and gentlemen. I wouldn’t want anyone else fighting by my side. I’m incredibly proud of all of you. Stay safe, watch each other’s backs, and let's give those bastards everything we’ve got. Let’s show them what the Grey Wardens are made of.” There was a round of cheers as she rallied them, leading them through the Lighthouse and to the eluvian that led to Weisshaupt. This was it, what might very well be their last fight. They were staring long into the abyss, and glowing red eyes were staring back at them.
#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#rrau#rooks roost au#oc: jin connor#rrau weisshaupt#rooks roost weisshaupt
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roo’s master list
Hi I’m Roo and I write stories about men who aren’t allowed to die
I also draw things sometimes, and you can check out my art blog any time: @the-rachie-roo
Baldur's Gate 3
Making Villains (out of Lovers) (Enver Gortash x F!Dark Urge)
Rated: M
31,490 words
Warnings: Graphic Violence, Gore (heed the tags)
Incomplete
Her hands trembled as she turned to the final page, and a cold sense of dread clutched her very soul. The last entry. The final words of her former self, surrounded by what she somehow instinctively knew to be splatters of her lifeblood. WE WILL NOT DIE. WE CAN NOT DI-A smudge of dark ink spilled across the page where the pen had broken, cutting off anything else her predecessor might have said. Silencing her forevermore
To stand in defiance of gods will always come with a price. Cressidel should know this well enough by now, even with a mind void of memories and nothing but bloodstained pages to characterize the woman she once was. But when faced with a haunting figure from her past, she must determine whether there is a price too great to pay for the one piece of her life's puzzle that she wishes to remember.
A Thousand Tomorrows (Gale x F! Tav)
Rated: M
3,374 words
Warnings: None
Complete
Gods, he’d never tire of seeing the small dimples indented into her cheeks or the way a boundless joy filled her gaze. Here and now, it seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d been a worn, cheerless woman, void of light or hope in her eyes. It had taken well over a month after meeting before he’d glimpsed even the barest tug of a smile upon the corner of her mouth, and now here she was. Grinning up at him, looking for all the world like she’d finally found peace in her soul. And perhaps she had. Perhaps they both had. For Gale and Tasra, the hope of a brilliant future banishes the darkness of the past.
Skyrim
Dragonsoul (Miraak x F!Last Dragonborn)
Rated: M
14,727 words
Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence
Incomplete
With the World-Eater vanquished, and a fragile peace brought to her homeland, the Last Dragonborn finds herself answering another call when a mysterious threat breaches her world, bringing more questions and fewer answers. Seeking truth beyond the realm of all she has come to know, she is startled to find a soul who seems to mirror her own, despite the cruel destiny which has pitted them against one another.
Genshin Impact
Scorched Wings (Mavuika x Capitano)
Rated: T
10,364 words
Warnings: None
Incomplete
And it was in the moment he gazed into those twin suns that the Captain found himself briefly wondering what it might be like to burn within the scorching strength of her eyes.
Five times the Pyro Archon seeks out the Harbinger + one time he seeks her
#writing#my writing#master post#oc: gislie#to be updated#fic: dragonsoul#fic: scorched wings#mavuitano#durgetash#fic: making villains (out of lovers)#oc: cressidel#oc: tasra#gale x tav
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Hot Chocolate (Husk x Reader) [VoxTek Winterfest, 2024]
Nobody likes a breakup, but everybody likes hot chocolate.
Mature, No Warnings, F/M, M/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Hot Chocolate, Fluff, Alcohol Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Break Up, Crushes, Oneshot, Recipes, POV Second Person, Ambiguous Gender Reader, Character POV, Explicit Language WC: 1,674
One of three prompts I picked up as part of the VoxTek Winterfest, 2024! Thank you so much to the beautiful organisers over at @voxtekinc. @redvexillum and @redfoxwritesstuff are both superstars! If you get the chance, make sure you check out the other amazing stories written by skilled, delightful authors.
It’s written in his notes somewhere. Tucked away in a faded, leather journal, the recipe is inked in red on yellowed pages. Each one is as fragile as the frayed cover, threatening to erase the words contained within it. Yet he handled it with the utmost care, and his claws traced the thinning paper like it contained his very essence.
From the outside though, his face remained a picture of indifference while he read:
Angel’s Naughty Not Nice Boozy Hot Chocolate Bonanza
Main shit:
1 Cup Milk
2 oz Milk Chocolate
1 oz Semi-sweet Chocolate
1tbsp Light Brown Sugar
¾ tsp Cinnamon
¼ tsp Ground Ginger
¼ tsp Nutmeg
Pinch of Cayenne Pepper
Pinch of Salt
1.5 oz Spiced Rum
Stuff for the top:
Whipped Cream
Marshmallows
Cinnamon Stick
Pinch of Cocoa Powder
How to do it:
Slap that milk, sugar, and chocolate into a small pot.
Cook it all on a low heat and simmer that sugar!
Make sure to stir until the solids are all dissolved.
Stir in those spices, baby!
Take it off the heat, and pour in more rum than you’re meant to.
Tip it all into a mug.
Time to get creative! Put that thick cream all over the top of that slutty drink, and put in one big, juicy cinnamon stick.
Balance some marshmallows (optionally toasted) on top with the cocoa powder - and BOOM! One Naught Not Nice Hot Chocolate to keep your insides warm all night.
Hell wasn’t meant to be cold, but you supposed it was cathartic in a way. You could wrap yourself up in a blanket, stare out of the window at the cool undertones of the otherwise dismal city, and wonder where everything went wrong.
At least, it had been cathartic for a single day. After that, you felt rotten. Mushrooms were sure to sprout from your softened bark in the advent of your mental passing. You weren’t evergreen, so you were destined to lose your leaves. Even you knew it was going to happen long before it did.
Yet despite it all, you had clung to your splintered relationship with a sense of sunken cost fallacy. You’d held onto it so hard that the branches you used to support yourself snapped from under you, and reality came crashing down around you.
Charlie tried to cheer you up by talking about all the cool things that you were going to do together to celebrate Hell’s Winter season. The hotel was gearing up for some sort of gala, but you couldn’t find the enthusiasm for it. Sure, you’d probably enjoy it when it happened.
When it happened that was - not before it happened.
For the time being, you were trying to recover, and no amount of festivities were going to help you. You needed to pick yourself up and out of your rut. That was why you decided to leave your room finally. The pyjamas stayed on, of course.
Walking through the hallways allowed you to see a glimmer of Charlie’s exuberant plans for the hotel. Garlands dressed the walls, with decorative lights and finer touches of elegance the likes of which you expected from royalty. In the time you had been tucked away, the hotel had been transformed into a castle.
The personality from other members of the hotel also bled into the scenery. Entrails weren’t hidden among the drapery that you were sure Charlie had not seen. The gorey decorations were followed by glitter splattered across every available surface. A few impaled insects were pinned to various, inconsistent places like some sort of messed up bug hunt, and other oddities made their home in the environment.
One sinner was noticeably absent from the display, however. But you knew where to find him. The truth was, he never really strayed far from where he lurked. Knowing he would be there made your journey seem worth it. Every step was one closer to seeing that familiar face.
He was the one consistent thing you could think of.
Sure enough, when you arrived at the bar, he was there. With his head nestled in his arms, an ear flicked in your direction in acknowledgment even before he saw you. The straight line of his eyes outwardly expressed the same lackluster feeling you felt yourself.
Even as he turned to see you, only his eyebrow raised. Claws scraped against wood as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, and he took in the sight before him: a lack of hygiene and happiness.
“Well, if it isn’t Sinsmas miracle come early, I don’t know what is” Husk said. His comment lured the faint traces of a long overdue smile from you.
You took a seat at the bar. “I thought you didn’t celebrate,” you retorted. “Or has Charlie gotten into your head?”
Husk scoffed at this, and he rolled his eyes with a dismissive wave to the decorations in the foyer. The hallways were barren in comparison. Somehow she’d managed to cram so much into the space that it could of been mistaken for a shop rather than a hotel. All that was missing was the pricetags.
“Fuck no. Place has enough sparkly shit in it to light up the entirety of Hell, and the girl expects me to be able to focus on makin’ some fancy cocktail lineup. Not happening.” Husk let out a sigh before he sunk back into his arms.
Silence fell over the pair of you, and you allowed yourself to focus on the bottles lining the shelves of the bar. There was Paradise Bloom, Seven Sins, Impish, and even Serpent’s Spit. Your attention ended up staying on the last bottle, similar to how your body ceased any other movements.
A pair of slit pupils traced the surface of the countertop over to you, however.
“Are you,” Husk began, “y’know…” Both of you looked at each other, having been snapped out of your trance. The image of your ex were still fresh in your mind, but they were being replaced by the need to focus on what you were going to say.
“Yeah - yeah, I guess,” you replied. Husk nodded in response, yet as silence threatened to spill once more, he pulled back with a sigh. Blunt, he asked you to stay where you were before he did the unthinkable.
He left the bar.
Blinking idly at him, you watched while he wandered off into the hotel through the garish decor blocking his path. You heard a crash along the way which was followed by a string of curses. After that, there was nothing. There was nothing for a while until Husk came back with a pan.
A thin wisp of steam wafted from the pan and around Husk like a scarf. No words were shared between you, instead, you observed as he placed the pan onto the counter. He rummaged around the glasses until he pulled out a decently sized one.
What he poured from the pan was a creamy, brown liquid, and the scent that hit you was divine. It smelled sweet like chocolate, with a flurry of spices that tried to take the centre stage. You hadn’t noticed the cinnamon stick he held, but when it hit the drink, you were left to admire the creation pushed in front of you.
“Wouldn’t ever advertise drinking when you feel shitty, but since you’re fine and all,” he said. “Figured you might like it. It’s not goin’ on the menu for Charlie’s thing, so keep it between us. Just a boozy hot chocolate.”
You pulled the glass closer to you, the chill exterior contrasting with the heated contents. Husk dusted down himself, clearing his throat, and your attention returned to him.
“Thank you,” you soothed.
He rolled his shoulders with a curl of the lip. “Don’t mention it - I tried to drink one with the cinnamon stick once, and it was pretty good. Might be worth a try.”
You glanced down at the cinnamon stick that you pinched between your fingers. Thanking him again for the idea, you gave it a try. It took some effort to pull the drink through the stick, but it was well worth it.
The melody of flavours that hit your tongue was nothing short of delicious. Sweet hints of chocolate and sugar mingled with the warmth of the spices and rum you picked up. You couldn’t help yourself as your expression lit up.
With a delighted hum, you continued to take another sip through the straw. Turning to Husk, you were about to tell him how much you liked it when you saw his face. He wore a genuine smile, and his pupils had dilated to hide the bright yellow of his eyes in favour of an intense darkness you could fall into. Even his posture had changed. The slack shoulders seemed more relaxed.
“You don’t gotta tell me it’s good, I know,” he chuckled, and you nodded. Averting your eyes, you let the flavour sit on your tongue as you stirred the stick into the drink. Husk mentioned it was a shame there was no cream, and you chimed in that you didn’t mind going to get some if he would be happy to make it again.
“Sure thing,” he cooed. “Anytime.”
For a moment, a twang of shame washed over you. It was hard to deny that you pictured yourself with him when you had seen that smile. Sure, you had seen it before, and maybe it was the breakup that was making you crazy - but you had a soft spot for him. From the second you had stepped foot inside of the hotel, you had had a soft spot for him.
There was no way you could blame the rum when you’d only had two sips.
When you didn’t feel so bad, you would see how things went. You didn’t want him to be a rebound if you were going to follow that feeling. In the meantime, you had a hot chocolate in your hands, and good company.
That was the best way to heal.
#husk (hazbin hotel)#husk (hazbin hotel) x reader#VoxTek Winterfest 2024#minors dni#x reader#fanfiction#my fics
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“Christmas Witch’s Last Minute Shopping Trip”
@mina-m ‘s challenge Day 30 - Christmas Village
When you look at Christmas village figurines everything is snowy, so I tried to add some snow with acrylic to incorporate that. But a lot splattered on the Christmas witches herself and it’s hard to see her signature purple hair (also hidden somewhat by the collar of her fur trimmed coat).
For fun - evolution of this piece under the cut -
Sketch:

Inked:

Painting Day 1:

Painting Day 2 / Final piece :

Inspiration:


#christmas witch#mina's enchanted drawing challenge#art is just for fun#watercolor#with some acrylic snow#inspired by#bruges#Bruges Christmas market
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