#M splatters ink

[thesassypadawan]

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.

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[leighbaylee]

🖤 ₊˚⊹ — 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

[rise-my-angel]

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.

[pupsmailbox]

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. x3/x3. x]/x]. xD/xD. xe/xem. xey/xem. xP/xP. xy/xyr. youtube/youtube. ze/zem. ze/zer. ze/zero. zi/zim. zim/zim. zom/zombie. zomb/zomb.

[activesplooger]

For a story request for kinktober, could see maybe yandere!vox who is extremely possessive of y/n and goes absolute feral with the need to ‘claim the reader’ after seeing them talk to Alastor??

~em

FUCK YEAH ILY ANON <33333 YANDERE VOX EWFHJKWBFHWBEF

𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕯𝖆𝖞 3 » ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

»»—-𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔖𝔪𝔲𝔱—-««

𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: (MDNI) Kinktober day 3!!! i didn't edit this btw so sorry ill revise l8ter. and that wraps up my requests for now so i'll prolly get to work on my help me (vox x assistant!reader) fic! kinktober requests are open for the whole month so ask as you please!

𝕮𝖂: yandere behavior (vox), oral (m-receiving), front-door penetration, possessiveness, recording w/o consent

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You have a 'friendly' chat with Alastor relating to private matters. Your possessive partner, Vox, sees this and feels the urge to mark his territory. Despite your reassurance that the talk was anything but romantic, he still pounces on you with vigorous determination...

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1,809

»»———-————————————————-««

You're currently sitting through a monotonous routine overlord meeting, fidgeting with a pen in your hand as Carmilla Carmine drones on about stuff you honestly couldn't care less about. Usually, you'd have Vox by your side during these meetings, which would help things be less boring. Whether it was holding your hand under the table or making fun of the other overlords, Vox always helped entertain you. But, unfortunately, he couldn't attend; he's stuck at the Vee tower, trying to calm Valentino down after another temper tantrum.

You start to gnaw at the end of your pen subconsciously, your thoughts drifting to Vox and your plans for the day after this god-forsaken meeting. All of a sudden, a bitter taste hits your tongue. Looking down, you see pen ink splattered everywhere—on your clothes, your mouth, the desk. Forgetting where you were, you jump out of your seat and exclaim, "Shit!". The room goes silent, every overlord turning their attention from Carmilla to you. Fuck, that's embarrassing.

Carmilla raises an eyebrow, a stern expression on her face, "Everything okay, Miss L/N?". "Y-yeah," you stutter, sitting back down and avoiding eye contact, "sorry.". She sighs and focuses her attention back on the "important" subject matter. You wanted to bang your head on the desk and cry. This moment is definitely gonna replay in your head at night and keep you awake.

The buzzing of your phone vibrates in your pants pocket. You pull it out and see a notification:

Hiding your phone under the table, you smile softly. At least you had something to look forward to now. 30 more minutes, you've got this. You pocket your phone once more and pretend to pay attention.

--

The meeting concludes about 20 minutes later, a bit earlier than expected. You get up out of your seat and try to ignore the stares at your ink-stained outfit from the other overlords. Vox wouldn't be here for another ten minutes, so you figured you'd just wait outside the building until he came. However, just as you are about to exit, someone grabs your forearm and yanks you back. You're met face-to-face with the radio demon, Alastor. His smile stretches ear to ear, but it doesn't fool you, Vox has told you all about him and specifically told you to avoid him at all costs. You've interacted with Alastor before. However, Vox was always present with you each time. What could he possible want from you?

The deer grabs your hand and shakes it with a violent fervor. "Why hello there, my dear," he happily greeted, "pleasure to be meeting you without that pesky picture box by your side, quite a pleasure! You take your hand back and size him up, "Uh huh, nice seeing you. Bye-". Turning on your heels, you attempt to leave. Before you can successfully exit, Alastor seizes your hand again and pulls you back to face him, "Why, how rude! Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's impolite to leave when one is speaking to you? HA HA! Anyway, speaking of the bothersome television-". "We weren't talking about Vox-" you interrupt. Alastor chimes in again, his jubilant demeanor never faltering, "Oh, but we are now! Where is your dear Vox, hm?". "Home." you state flatly. "Really?" he asks, eyes narrowing as he pries, "and why is that? Trouble in paradise? You seemed rather preoccupied during the meeting, perhaps you were dwelling on some type of argument?". "What, no-." Alastor cuts in, not bothering for an answer and just wanting to stir the pot, "Or perhaps you were". Alastor's sentence gets interrupted by the loud rumbling of doors slamming open.

In the doorway, you see Vox glaring at Alastor, teal sparks of electricity igniting from his antennae. Oh shit, he's pissed! Good luck, Alastor, because you're about to get your ass beat! Just when you think a battle is about to go down, Vox strides over to you and slings you over his shoulder, rushing you out of the building as fast as possible. "Ah!" you yelp at the unexpected move, "what are you doing?!". He doesn't answer, only exhaling roughly as he ushers you over to his limo.

A VoxTech employee opens the limo door for you both with haste. Vox throws you through the door, landing on the plush limo seats as he follows soon after. The employee closes the car door and retreats to the driver's seat after Vox gets in. “Driver!” he calls out, “put up the privacy divider and stay parked!". The driver does as he says with a weak "Yes, Mr. Vox" in response.

"Love?" you spoke quietly as he sat across from you, a menacing look on his face. "աɦǟȶ were you ɖօɨռɢ with ɦɨʍ?!" he asked, voice glitching as his anger rose. "What-? Oh, Alastor? Nothing, he just-" Vox cuts you off by yanking your arm, examining the place where Alastor grabbed you, "Why was he FᵾȻꝀƗNǤ touching you?!". "I-I don't know I tried to walk away from it," you explain, trying to get him to understand, "nothing happened, I swear!". He releases your arm and leans closer, faces inches apart from each other, "It doesn't matter if nothing happened! He still fucking touched you! Have I not made it ᵽɇɍfɇȼŧłɏ apparent that you're ʍɨռɛ, or should I have been more clear?". Before you can respond, Vox pushes down on your shoulders, sending you down on your knees on the limo floor. He kneels on the seat, one hand undoing his belt while the other pushes two fingers into your mouth, "I'm gonna make it clear to all of Hell that NØɃØĐɎ ɃᵾŦ MɆ is allowed to touch you. Got that, princess?". You speak in a muffled tone, trying to talk coherently with teal claws shoved in your mouth is nearly impossible, "Mmph, what do you mean?".

Vox chuckles grimly and removes the digits from your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting your lips and his claws. He pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his hard, leaking cock, just inches away from your face. "What I mean is," he begins, tangling his fingers in the back of your hair, "I'm gonna claim you as mine, and everyone in this ring of hell is gonna see that...". Your eyes flicker up to him, heat pools in your core as you anticipate what's to come, "Vox..?". "Shh," he coos, pulling your head into his cock, "smile for the camera, doll.". The last thing you see before being pushed onto his dick is a red dot blinking at the top of his screen. He's recording you.

Before you can dwell on that, you suddenly find yourself being face fucked. You wrap your lips tightly around his needy cock as he thrusts into you, teal claws digging into your hair for balance. His tip graces the back of your throat with each thrust, causing you to gag. "Relax, princess, don't choke," he murmurs, releasing his tight hold on you to lovingly stroke your hair. You moan softly at his affectionate touch, sending vibrations through his length. That was enough to send him over; he thrusts in your mouth with reckless abandon as he rides out his orgasm. Hot spurts of cum shoot down your throat and you swallow every last bit of he.

He pulls out of your mouth and makes eye contact with you, his glare is possessive and dominant. The red dot is still blinking at the top of his screen, he's definitely not done with you yet. Vox pats the seat beside him, signaling for you to sit. You do as he says. The arousal between your thighs starts to become uncomfortable, begging to be dealt with, "Please, Vox...". Vox smiles sinisterly, moving over you until you're pinned down on the limousine seats, "Please, what?". "Please," you beg, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "fuck me...".

With that, a low growl escapes Vox's throat and he immediately gets to work undressing you. He doesn't even bother taking them off. Instead, he uses his claws to rip them straight off your body. "Vox! Those are my nice clothes," you reprimand. He scoffs with a playful smirk, "They were stained with ink anyways.". He removes his shirt and discards it on the floor, laying his weight fully on top of you. Pressing kisses to your neck, you feel his already full-mast erection prodding against your stomach. "Besides," he speaks between kisses, "I'll just buy you new clothes. Whatever you want, on me.". Your heart flutters at his words, how can he be so sweet and so fucking crazy at the same time?!

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer as his eyes rake over your naked form appreciate. He reaches out and traces a claw across your curves, stopping at your breast and squeezing the mound. "Mine," he mutters softly. His hips snap into yours in a brutal rhythm, his large cock filling your dripping cunt completely, "You're mine, understand? This body, these curves... everything belongs to me now.". "You speak between moans and gasps, "Y-Yes, fuck, just please don't stop...". Each powerful thrust sends him deeper, the sound of skin slapping skin fills the limo. Poor driver, he can probably hear everything.

He pistons into you harder, "Fuck, doll, you're taking me so well." Reaching out, he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You don't bother responding, you're too preoccupied with the immense pleasure in your core.

Moans and grunts slip out of your mouth as you get fucked senseless, your orgasm impending. Vox recognizes that you're close and grabs at your nipple, "F-fuck, you're close. Beg for it, beg for release.". The added pleasure of his touch sends you almost over the edge, desperate for release, "Pleasepleaseplease, Vox, I can't wait any longer...". He leans forward, chuckling lowly as he whispers in your ear, "Come.". Your pussy clamps down on his cock as you cum, eliciting a guttural groan from Vox's throat. His hips jerk erratically as he chases his own release.

He comes once again, spilling his seed deep inside you as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over him. For a moment, you remained inside each other as you caught your breath. Vox withdrawals from you with a 'pop' noise, sitting up on the limo seats. You reposition to lay your head on his lap, his hands moving to play with your hair as you rest on him.

The one blinking red dot fades out, "Hey, Vox? That recording isn't going anywhere, right?". He laughs softly, running his claws through your hair gently, "No no, that ones for my personal connection.".

Liar. What you don't know is that the whole recording was a live broadcast to all of the VoxTech channels, just a 'friendly' reminder of who you belong to <3

The end :]

--

ENJOY!!!! last day of kinktober (4 now until i get more requests) so onto the Help Me series!!! did ygs like the text thing? bc if so i wanna put it in my series for help me for the future so lmk!!!

[rolling-storm-writing]

True Father-  (Helaena x M! Reader)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʙᴏʀɴ ꜱ��ɴ 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.

[vicsy]

maxiel demon hunter au | 4.3 k | M happy halloween! I'm excited to share this little titbit with you. I hope to make this into an entire fic one day (have a title picked out already!) and crafting this universe brings me so much joy. I was really looking to sharing something spooky with all of you. <3 tw for mild body horror | set in the same universe as this fic

This time, they take Daniel's eyes.

It's the sounds that catch up to Daniel first, like whiplash. Dulled squelching, then wet splattering — one, two, three; splat, splat, splat. Daniel is weirdly comforted by counting. It serves as a fitting substitute to the vacuum that eats up the screams, the stuttering gasps of air riddled with desperation. Missing one eye, Daniel watches himself scream inaudibly, blood pouring down his face, his neck, soaking his torn and tattered clothes.

He is but a mere spectator to a leading man in his own torture chamber.

The hard flooring digs into his knees but the ache in them is phantom. Daniel's here and there, tormented and helpless, driven to the brink of passing out and forced to endure a twisted spectacle. A hand, cold as ice, cradles his bloodied cheek, tender. Tilts his head up from where he's kneeling, shackled to the floor, his wrists rubber raw. Here, tenderness is a perpetual deceit. The figure standing by the other him is indistinguishable, a moving black ink stain with many arms and sharp angles. Daniel knows him. It's why he doesn't hold his breath for what comes next.

Pressure on his face, no, not his but it is Daniel. One finger pulls down his eyelid, the other digs into the corner of his eye like a fish hook. Daniel imagines a scoop treating him as a tub of ice cream. It's hysterical. He must still be screaming. His brain must be shutting down. Pain does that, eventually.

It takes time, the remaining eye. Pressure builds in agonizing waves; his vision blanks out but Daniel is watching from afar, out of body, bound and motionless, drenched in animalistic fear. Pulled out of the socket, meticulously and with a caricature of care, Daniel follows the optic nerve still attached to his eye stretching up, up, further up until it snaps like a string. He must be screaming louder. He must be dying. But Daniel hangs on.

In the hollow spaces where his most prolific weapon used to be, blood pools and then overflows, a crimson waterfall marring his flesh. The floor beneath him is slippery, sticky; Daniel feels the blood on his hands but when he glances down, they're clean. It's not right. None of this is. They took his eyes.

He won't know an enemy from a friend; a clean soul from a wretched one.

Laughter. It fills out the void. Fingernails scratching the chalkboard, that laughter. Daniel knows who it belongs to, that distortion of joy. Shadowy figure standing above him raises four of its hands. Some miss fingers, one looks like a scythe. All of those limbs are covered in Daniel's blood. It glistens, taunting.

Daniel's throat closes up. His eye, held in between bloodied fingers, becomes the sole focus of his attention. He blinks; the other him can't do such a thing anymore. He thrashes in place instead, spitting curses that fall dead on Daniel's ears but he recognizes the shape of them leaving his own lips. That figure — the monster, the demon, the death itself — raises one of its arms, studying Daniel's eye under the yellow light coming off the ceiling. Why is there light?

He can't save himself. He needs to save himself.

They took his eyes. He ripped Daniel's only defense to shreds.

The figure moves again, wobbling and buzzing, then it parts at the top where its head supposedly is. Daniel can't make out its features but he knows. Doesn't he? He knows him well. There's teeth now, startlingly white. Black, viscous saliva drips off the tips. A droplet lands on Daniel's cheek; one of him flinches without moving, the other has his skin melting, sizzling, exposing the bone. Fear becomes a creature of its own. And it wants to escape.

Daniel watches, then, consumed by the opulence of fright, as the being made of shadows and everything unholy pops his eye into its gaping maw and snaps it shut.

In the seconds that stretch into an eternity, Daniel's body gets squeezed and lifted off the floor. All the teeth, the open maw, his own eye staring back at him from the inside, unblinking – brown with a tinge of red. There is a roar and a screech; Daniel faces his disfigured state. Then all is ribs crack under pressure and he breathes in at once.

It consumes him.

When Daniel's eyes fly open, as abruptly as a flock of birds spooked by a stray dog driven by nothing but hunger, Max is the first thing he sees. He leans against the doorframe of Daniel's bedroom, already dressed for the day.

"Why are you on the floor?" Max asks matter-of-factly. He sounds like himself, maybe a bit croaky. Daniel's gotten used to him like this. And it's not the first time Max drops by his room unannounced.

"Uh. Morning yoga?" Lame answer to the shitty start of the day. Is it still morning? Daniel's back doesn't waste any time reminding him of the comfortable mattress he seemingly fell off of during the night. Not like he has that much control over the horrors clinging to him like an ex that can't take a hint. "Shit. Give me five and I'll be good to go. We gotta pop by Alex's first thing, though."

His legs are tangled awkwardly in a thin blanket. Half of it is still draped over his bed. Daniel rubs at his eyes, keeping himself upright. The soft prickle of eyelashes on his fingertips, the spots dancing in his vision — kind of stupid to need reassurance. This shouldn't be that big of a deal. Fighting off a wendigo and getting to keep all your limbs, now that is fucking terrifying. Nightmares are practically in his job description, a walk in the park. But this kind–

"Of course," Max says. He sounds closer than he was moments before. Daniel looks up and spots a helping hand. Ah, his poor dignity.

"Mate, did you sleep in the freezer? Your hands are cold as fuck," Daniel mumbles while Max hauls him up to his feet without much trouble. Huh. Maybe Daniel's just running hotter than usual. Shouldn't be a surprise considering his nighttime adventures.

"It was very tempting to spend the night in there," oof, bitchy. Now that's his Max. He huffs, annoyed and lets go of Daniel. "I had a Red Bull with all the ice we had. We need to buy more on the way back. It's a fucking desert outside."

No fucking wonder.

Daniel sways on his feet a bit, admittedly shaken. Looks down at himself and spots a new stain on a faded Bills t-shirt he slept in. He must be sweaty and gross after a night he had but there's a foreign tackiness, too. Remnants of the horrors conjured in the depths of his subconscious stick to his skin like molasses. Daniel's getting the urge to scrub himself clean with bleach, wiggle out of this weird state. At least for Max's sake.

"Fucking peachy," scratching the back of his head, Daniel pads to the adjoining bathroom. "I'll be out in a tick."

Max's response reaches him as he shuts the door.

"I'll wait in the car, Daniel."

He always does.

Splashing cold water onto his face rewards Daniel with a handful of miraculous minutes where he isn't trapped in the suffocating heat of the summer. A shower would have been ideal but he's running late. Alex would bitch about him not being on time again for the next month or so. Looking himself over in the mirror, Daniel assesses the need to shave sometime soon. It can wait. Sporting a beard isn't all bad. He stares his reflection in the eyes longer than necessary — two normal eyeballs, both intact, same color to them. Brown tinged slightly with red. People barely notice but those who know what to look for are always the ones asking Daniel to remove sunglasses he wears most of the time.

Funnily enough, it's the one thing he forgets in haste on the way out. Daniel never leaves the house without his hunting knife, strapped securely onto his lower back under a billowy t-shirt so nobody calls the cops on him for carrying a scary looking weapon. But, fuck, his shades. The sun shining mercilessly in the cloudless sky will give him a headache soon enough. Daniel curses himself, shielding his eyes from the sunlight with a palm of his hand.

His neighbour walks by on the sidewalk, a tiny dog trotting next to her. Daniel stops just short of the driveway to give her a nod and a slight wave; a cursory motion. She beams back at him and her dog decides to join the interaction by yapping uncontrollably, pulling on the leash. Daniel tells himself to be cool about it but he still tilts his vision sideways out of sheer habit. His eyelids twitch, reacting to the sun blasting from above. Daniel keeps his smile cheerful and his gaze trained on his neighbour. A translucent glow enveloping her shoulders and chest greets Daniel as it did numerous times before. She's perfectly human. The dog, on the other hand… he can't vouch for that creature.

Finally making it to the car, Daniel opens the door and climbs into the driver's seat. It's cool inside. The aircon is doing its magic just fine but the wheel feels like lava to the touch. Thank fuck Max had the car running before Daniel dragged himself outside. He can do with a little less worry, today of all days.

When he turns his head in the direction of the passenger seat, Max looks like he's seeing an army of ghosts.

"Max?" Daniel waits for the other shoe to drop. It's been weeks. His hand finds the hilt of his knife on pure instinct ingrained into his bones. Max remains unmoving, staring ahead through the windshield. His mouth falls open, his lovely lips look chapped. "You alright there, buddy?"

Daniel counts the seconds of uninterrupted silence. Studies the side of Max's face, the sharp line of his jaw. Counts his steadily increasing heartbeat, too, waiting. Max's lips continue to move without a  hint of sound. Daniel's grip on the knife tightens.

Every scrap of thought in his brain comes to a screeching halt. His vision feels like burning. Max slumps forward, his back bowed. That nightmare Daniel went through flares up at the back of his mind, alive and vivid. His breath catches and a lump lodges itself in his throat like a rotten bone.

He can't be out of time. And Max–

Max snaps out of it. With a full body jolt, he reels back and his body hits the side of the door. He's facing Daniel now, chest heaving. Daniel lets go of the knife and pulls his hand forward, almost placating. It's not fear rattling his bones; it's something worse. His eyes twitch involuntarily. Once, twice. Max seemingly deflates.

"No, I felt like– felt like remembering. But no luck," he swipes a palm down the side of his neck, then the back of it. Daniel holds his breath and only allows himself to breathe evenly when Max shrugs, like nothing happened at all, and nods at him, squinting. "Too bright for you today, no?"

"Sure," Daniel responds flatly. Begrudgingly, he makes a show of reaching for a pair of shades he remembers stashing in the glove compartment and Max thoughtfully moves his bare knees out of the away. He's always wearing the shortest of shorts and Daniel really can't blame him. Swampy summer hellscape in the middle of July is drastically different from where Max is originally from. There is irony in that fact, as far as Daniel knows. "Eyes are kinda itchy today."

Light sensitivity, he explained to Max back when they first got to know each other. Truth wrapped in a crisp, white lie. That, and an occasional migraine or two was a small price to pay for the ability to tell souls apart. Daniel had seen some that shone righter than the sun itself; he'd also seen those darker than a thousand nights. The latter taught him the most valuable lessons. Otherwise Daniel wouldn't be still alive and kicking.

They drive through the morning rush and the cacophony of a small town dealing with the worst possible heatwave in the last decade or so. Daniel blasts the aircon heedlessly, secretly asking whatever powers that may be for his engine not to kick the bucket. Max is looking out the window. Daniel steals a couple of glances at him, rightfully concerned, and only catches the back of his head. He almost reaches to smooth Max's hair sticking out from the humidity but thinks better of it and keeps both hands firmly on the wheel. His gaze darts down to Max's pale thigh instead, his fingers drumming a rhythm on it that Daniel can't place. And it bothers him.

"What do we need from Alex?" Max enquires.

We.

"He caught wind of some shady business. Possible sighting near the place where they're repairing the highway. You know, by that one dodgy looking exit?" pure lies. Daniel clears his throat. "Might check it out tonight."

Max hums. They ride the rest of the way in silence. Daniel tries to keep the dread at bay.

For people like Daniel, Alex's coffee and tea shop is a convenient front. For those who live in the blissful ignorance of the supernatural, it's another pleasant establishment to spend your hard-earned money at. Either way, for the last couple of years Daniel's made the best out of his friendship with Alex ever since stumbling to the shop after closing hours, bleeding out and poisoned. Alex kindly saved his life – for free since Daniel was a new customer – and the rest is rapidly evolving history.

Daniel parks in the free spot right by the entrance and kills the engine.

"Wanna head in with me? We could grab a bite after," to his offer, Max makes a noncommittal sound. Daniel's nerves ease up, strangely.

"Not hungry. I'll just walk around," Max fishes his phone out of his pocket, wiggles it in front of Daniel's face, sounding pleased. "I'll keep myself busy."

He promptly exits the car and stops to watch several cars drive by. Daniel follows Max suit. It's easier, if he's being honest with himself, to make these visits by his lonesome. Daniel catches himself missing Max's company from time to time but not this instance. He eyes the broad line of Max's shoulders, the back of his neck. Then convinces himself not to let his gaze slide down and maneuvers between people passing him by.

Walking inside the coffee shop, Daniel's senses gets hit with an amalgamation of enticing smells and monotonous pre-lunch hubbub. The guy behind the main counter is new. Super young and super into flirting with a couple of customers who are way out of his league if Daniel was to judge. He should not pry so publicly but does so anyway, briefly lifting the shades up. The glimmer of the new guy's soul is patchy, purplish but mostly light blue. All clean across the board. Daniel covers his eyes again, then turns on his heels and walks towards the opposite side of the cafe. There, stashed in an artisanal looking corner with a myriad of meticulously stacked wooden shelves, Alex has his hands folded across his chest and his hip propped against the sturdy looking counter. He's giving Daniel a pointed look.

"That's your new guy?" Daniel asks instead of a greeting, pointing back at the counter with his thumb. "Is he–"

"Witchy?" Alex interjects. His smile seems twitchy and he blinks a bit maniacally. "Absolutely. You saw yourself, didn't you? Franco has a long way to go but I can work with that. Though, checking out my recent hires is not why you're here, Daniel. We both know it, so let's get to it."

Daniel places his elbows on the mahogany table separating him and Alex, then slips his shades to the tip of his nose and stares in faux indignation.

"Oh my, Alexander, so forward," he drawls. "No special treatment for little old me?"

Alex levels with him, lips drawn into a thin line.

"Uh-huh," he eyes Daniel with utmost suspicion. "Are you done playing house with a demon?"

Yeah. That.

"Alex, c'mon–"

"You yourself told our good friend Charles not to beat around the bush and deal with a hitchhiker in Pierre's soul with your fancy demon knife," Daniel unglues himself from the counter, turning his back on Alex, exhaling audibly on purpose. Anger is an old friend paying him a new visit but Daniel's hospitality appears lacking. When he turns back around, Alex places his hands in his hips and continues on with his tirade. "You know, the knife? One that, wait, let me remember this correctly. Hm. Right! One that famously sends demons back to the luscious green pastures of hell."

"I don't think they're green," Daniel tries. His attempt at a joke lands limply between the cracks. Alex is not having it.

"Daniel."

He rolls his eyes and cranes his head to beg the painted ceiling for mercy.

"God, you're so testy today."

"I'm just looking out for you," Alex exclaims and then lowers his voice. "You think I wouldn't prefer less funerals?"

Daniel clamps his mouth shut. He looks outside the panoramic window by the entrance and, by design, spots a familiar figure. Max is leaning against his car, bathed in the afternoon sun, tapping on his phone. Next to him, a cat sits on the hood of Daniel's car, languidly swaying its tail around. From where Daniel stands, the cat seems to watch Max keenly.

They made him take an oath, back in the day, official as hell. Daniel swore on some dusty ass book and got a hunter's coin in return. Thing is, folks don't become demon hunters on a sudden whim or because they're craving to spice up their life. Nobody gets dropped into this life willingly. Daniel has learned that lesson the hard way.  

Daniel did a couple of hunts with a guy named Carlos, who came from a long generation of demon hunters. He was a peculiar fella but so damn good at his job. Daniel made sure to stay in touch with him, just in case. Making connections is part of the whole family shebang. Carlos spoke of hunting like it was written in his destiny or whatever, like it was a testament to his skills and his family's legacy. Daniel, on the other hand, felt a gap in that connection. He was just born with funky vision. Otherwise, perfectly mundane.

As long as Daniel had his eyes, he was a valuable asset, a diamond cherry on top. Without his vision, well. Demon hunting doesn't have a pension plan.

He took that oath just for the hell of it. Apart from being outdated and unnecessarily convoluted, it has one golden rule that every hunter, young and old, should follow unequivocally. Daniel abided by it without much thought, up until the ever-present oath came in butting heads with his own set of morals and his gut feeling screaming at him to abandon it at all cost.

"Yeah. I know," Daniel murmurs, switching his attention back to Alex. "Look, I'm taking care of it. It's not all bad, ya know? Just a little more time before I can do my thing. And save a life."

Save himself.

Alex regards him with something akin to pity. Daniel slips his shades off and pockets them away. He can't bring himself to find any solace in the azure hue engulfing Alex from head to toe. And he could do without lectures surrounding his fuck ups.

"I'll be right back," Alex says, finally. He disappears behind the door next to the shelves that have medicinal herbs written on them in intricate cursive.

Daniel lets his eyes rest, shutting them softly.

Then, he remembers.

A summoning circle laid out with bones. Markings older than time itself etched into the stones on the ground soaked in rain. Bile rising up his throat as the smell of sulfur hanging thick in the air hits Daniel and his knees buckle. Eviscerated bodies, dozens of them, their faces burned off; an assortment of limbs strewn all over the circle. And blood. Rivers of it feeding the soil beneath.

He remembers, again — shaking, gripping his knife until his hand went numb. Rain pouring into his eyes. Silence ringing loud, louder than the screams Daniel heard from afar. In the middle of the summoning circle, curled in on himself, a naked body of a man. Pale as death. Daniel's legs leading him forward, his instincts going off like a siren. Kneeling on the ground and ignoring the squelch upon making impact with the ground; rolling a cold and limp but breathing body onto its back. And then immediately going half-blind.

He broke the oath that night.

The door creaks. Daniel opens his eyes.

"Don't forget," Alex says as he pushes a piece of what looks like parchment paper across the table. Daniel stares at the scribbles written all over. They wouldn't make sense to him, ever, but Alex is a master of his craft. "Skin to skin, then the activation word. Don't mess it up. Took me a week to draw this seal properly. I already feel the build up effect of all the previous ones diminishing. Rapidly. There is only so much my seals can do."

Daniel folds the paper and carefully slides it into the back pocket of the jean shorts he's wearing. He shouldn't delay activating the seal.

"My thanks to you, Alexander, the great seal master," he tries to sound cheerful. Beams with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, then end up dropping the act. Daniel studies the cracks in the table before he manages enough courage to look up at Alex again. "Hey. Can you do me a solid?"

"I'm still in the middle of doing a rather big one for you but sure," Alex sighs, overdramatic. "I'll just add it to your tab."

Daniel chews the inside of his cheek, ruminating. He breathes in, then, lowering the pitch of his voice.

"What's the color of Max's eyes?"

"Max's eyes? Why–" Alex catches himself momentarily. Daniel sees when the full weight of realization sinks into his mind. His eyes soften and he gives Daniel a tight-lipped smile, rolls back his shoulders. He looks aside, to the panoramic window, then back at Daniel. He's talked to Max before, and seen him up close. Daniel knows he's stalling. Solemnly, Alex says: "Blue. Rather pretty."

It fits the picture Daniel had painted in his head. During some sleepless night, it was all he could think about.

"Pretty, huh?" he repeats. Then raps his knuckles on the table, bidding Alex a goodbye. "Thanks, mate. I really owe you one."

"Use protection!" Alex yells loudly after him. Daniel cringes, his shoulder lifting up to his ears. Motherfucker. He catches Alex following up, though more quietly: "And don't die."

That's the plan. Easy on paper, impossible in the long run. Daniel could really use the odds being stacked in his favor.

Outside, the air feels thick. Daniel tries to will his lungs to expand but it's a hopeless ordeal. He puts his shades back on, shrinking in on himself in defeat. The paper seal stashed in his pocket feels like it's going to leave a burn mark on his ass. Maybe Alex did something to it on purpose. Daniel could really use a laugh now.

Instead, he thinks of how he's going to covertly press a new seal onto the designated spot on the back of Max's neck, same place he'd placed many that came before. There ought to be some scarring. Daniel thinks of adding another shackle to the gaps in Max's memory and the other things sealed away by Alex's magic, things way beyond Daniel's comprehension.

He thinks of the time running out; of his own selfishness and want. Thinks he might never find it in himself to let go.

"We can go now?" Max asks without missing a beat as he pushes his body off the car. Daniel's head darts up, his train of thought tearing itself away from the plague of possibilities. "I found a woman who agreed to talk to us. Maybe she knows me."

Daniel's stomach churns.

"Great," he steps in front of Max and digs around in his front pocket. "Wanna drive for a bit?"

He offers up the keys and Max swiftly swipes them from Daniel's hand. Even with a brief contact, there is a hint of cold to the touch.

He knows his way around Max by now. Knows how unintentionally funny he is at times and how picky he's with food. Daniel has gotten used to having Max in his space, keeping him all to himself; driving around the city and looking for answers Daniel already knows but he's too fucking selfish and self-righteous.

For the first time today, Daniel has enough guts to really looks at Max.

There is darkness he cannot escape; eyes he cannot hide from. At times Daniel considers his gift of vision nothing but a fatal curse. With Max, he avoids using it as much as he can allow. Look everywhere but directly into his face. Yet every single time Daniel dares to hope the outcome would be different, dares to hope the seals worked their magic, he's proved painfully wrong. His shades are of no use; Daniel doesn't need to tilt his vision sideways either. Not for Max.

As if filled out with pitch black ink, the eyes darker than the cavernous void always stare back at him.

Daniel blinks and his heart gives a devastating tug.

Shadowy arms, familiar in their wretchedness, caress Max's head, his cheek and his shoulders; wrap around his waist, slide down his thighs and envelop him whole. Some hands miss fingers and one looks like a scythe. Those limbs, they are not covered in blood. Not anymore; not yet. Daniel knows it's temporary.

It always ends in blood. And, for Max, Daniel is willing to spill rivers of it.

[wheneverfeasible]

Bloody Hands, Broken Hearts: a Mafia AU

Chapter 1

chapter wc: 4.6k || rating: M (for now) || cw: blood, violence, reference to death of a minor original character, sex trafficking, past rape/non-con, homophobic language, derogatory language towards sex workers, sexualized use of “Daddy”, mean dom!Eddie, feminized!Steve || ao3

summary: No UD. Years after being sold through a sex trafficking ring to a member of the mafia, Steve’s former master is deposed by one of the most feared men in organized crime, Don Kas the Bloody-Handed. Except, much to Steve’s surprise and horror, he knows him by another name: Eddie Munson.

~

An annoyed tsk left pale lips as the man picked at the drying blood on his thick, silver rings with his thumb from where he was leaning back against the sturdy mahogany desk. His legs were crossed before him in his repose, one bloody hand pressed against the disordered papers on the desk, uncaring that they were being marked by the deep red splattered across his palm and knuckles, already drying a dark hue not unlike the color of the desk itself.

After a tense, silent moment of the man examining his rings and nail beds, dark eyes flashed up to take in his captive audience. Quite literally. Though they were unbound where they were made to kneel on the floor, the men holding guns on either side of them and on the other side of the door let them know that escape was futile.

Steve was fucked.

The thing was, everyone knew of Kas. Kas the Bloody-Handed. That’s what people called him, at least, and looking at the glint of his silver rings smeared with the umber of dried blood, Steve could acknowledge that it was a fitting name. However, that was not his real name, and it was with mounting horror that Steve realized that that was not the name Steve knew him by.

No, to Steve, the man before him was none other than the boy Steve’s former best friend had taken the most sick delight in tormenting: Eddie Munson.

Munson looked different now, but there was no denying that it was him. He had more tattoos nowadays, including one curling up his neck to brush against his jaw and both his forearms covered in them as seen with his fancy dress shirt’s sleeves rolled up, exposing the dark ink. He also had close-cut facial hair now that was a slightly lighter color than the still long and curly dark brown hair he now had tied back into a low and loose ponytail with a piece of cord. There was a coldness to his dark eyes now too, his once more wiry frame now a little more filled out with compact muscle.

In another lifetime, Steve might have been able to acknowledge that the man was attractive, might have had another reason than fear making his mouth go dry and needing to thickly swallow. However, as it was, Steve could only flinch and duck his head further when those flint hardened eyes passed over him.

He was luckily not at the front of the group kneeling on the rug before their former master’s desk, in front of their former master’s fireplace in their former master’s bookshelf lined study. There were a little more than a half-dozen of them, all trembling with fear at the knowledge that whatever horror they had been living through before, it was about to get a whole lot worse.

Munson, or Kas, was notorious, infamous even. He had been a nobody once, until suddenly he was a Somebody with a capital S. He swiftly moved up the ranks of his clan, earning respect borne of fear for his ruthlessness, until suddenly he was sitting on the metaphorical throne. He was not happy there, however, and all too soon he was making a name for himself amongst the other families too.

All too soon the other families began falling before him like dominos, one right after the other, bending the knee or—if they refused or otherwise displeased him—being eliminated entirely.

Which was what had occurred here to Steve’s former…employer. Not that Steve or the others got paid for what they did. Or had done to them. Steve couldn’t even say that behaving well and pleasing whoever they were sent to had them being treated better, since more often than not pain was part of their client’s pleasure.

As for their master—or Daddy, as they were instructed to call him—he was the worst of the worst. The way he showed his favor was through far more than just simple pain. Pain was something Steve could handle. It was the attention that was the terrifying part. Yet, Steve bore that attention willingly, for it kept it off of all the others.

“Tell me,” the voice of their new master softly intoned, his voice like thunder in the tense silence of the room, despite being little more than a murmur. Munson’s voice was a little raspier than Steve remembered it being, but then it had been years since Steve had last seen much less heard the other man. The man had dropped out of school during his own senior year, Steve’s junior, and no one knew what had become of him. Now Steve knew, at least.

Every ear was straining to hear what their new master would say next, though every eye was trained on the ground before their master’s feet. Steve was suddenly thankful his hair was a little longer than he personally liked, grown to be easier to grab and manipulate the head to which it was attached. It also allowed him now to obscure his face ever so slightly as he swiftly lowered his head and his gaze when Munson’s eyes scanned over them.

“Tell me,” Munson said again, and even with his eyes on the man’s blood splattered shoes, Steve could tell that Munson had a sardonic smile on his lips. “Which one of you was Porzio’s favorite?”

Steve barely withheld a flinch. Of course Munson would want to know that. Unlike his former owner, Munson wasn’t an idiot. He couldn’t be to get to where he was now. An idiot would only get themselves killed. Case in point: Carmine “the Uber Dead Asshole” Porzio, gone and soon to be forgotten in the year of our father…Christ, whatever year it was nowadays.

It was hard to keep track of time when you spent the majority of it on your knees or with your face shoved into a mattress.

But Munson wanted to know Porzio’s favorite. The one who he kept with him the majority of the time, the one used for his own personal pleasure, the pleasure of his most loyal lieutenants. The one who was treated like nothing more than decoration, as though their ears suddenly stopped working just because their mouth was filled.

It was a smart move, really. An excellent way to obtain secret gossip or information that might not be in the books. The favorite was a fount of information, but also a great liability. Sometimes it was better to cut the head off a snake before it could bite. Munson obviously knew what he was doing, which should be evident by now. The only problem?

Steve had been Porzio’s favorite.

He knew what he looked like nowadays. He hardly looked like the King Steve he had once been before everything, hardly looked like the rich and privileged jock Munson would have known him as. His own muscle mass was no longer what it had once been, the loss of weight only natural after everything he’d been through, and bruises littered his body where he’d either been punished or been used for pleasure. Sometimes those were interchangeable.

Not only that, but his clothing was far from what Munson would have last seen him in. No polos, no jeans, no letterman jacket. Instead, Steve wore what the others wore, his body hair waxed away in an attempt to add to his feminization. Aided, of course, by the short black skirt that exposed the majority of his thighs through the fishnets, and the red lace bustier top that only just covered nipples but left his midriff exposed. Matching red strappy heels laced up his calves, with a thick black collar completing the ensemble around his neck, a dainty little silver ‘V’ dangling from it like a license.

It was entirely possible that Munson wouldn’t recognize him. After all, they both might have made a name for themselves in school, but Munson hadn’t been there for the disaster of Steve’s senior year, and it wasn’t like they had ever directly interacted before. Tommy always did the majority of his bullying when Steve wasn’t around, knowing Steve didn’t approve of it, so it wasn’t like Munson and him had spent any great amount of time together.

It helped that the makeup he wore was smudged too, which would hopefully act as a camouflage. Perhaps, if he answered things in a way that pleased Munson, if Munson could look past the fact that he was a guy in this role he’d been forced into, perhaps he’d live to see another day.

His lip was already split and his cheek already bruised by Porzio’s earlier slap, so he wasn’t looking forward to having the rest of his face caved in by Kas the Bloody-Handed.

Swallowing back his nausea, Steve drew in a breath and began to lift his head to call attention to himself and away from the others, when another voice stopped him in his tracks.

“I am, sir,” Janice called out, standing from her kneeling position at the front of the huddle. Steve’s head jerked to look at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. Her fingers twitched at her side, swiping horizontal to the floor ever so slightly, though she didn’t look at him. Stay quiet, that action said. Stay safe.

Steve’s stomach clenched painfully, and all the affection he felt for his girls surged through his bloodstream. He had tried, hard as he could, to protect them from the worst of things. He couldn’t do much, but he had made certain Porzio was focused entirely on him and none of the others. They worked as well, but Porzio was the most sadistic, the most vile; he would happily take it all on to save his girls from that.

To think that now, in the face of one of the most feared men in organized crime, they would try to protect him…it was beyond anything he’d ever known. No one had ever sought to protect him before.

Munson’s brow ticked up, his gaze sliding like oil over Janice’s trembling body, but she held firm with her head up. His sardonic smile only grew. “Are you now?”

He appreciated her help, he did, but he couldn’t let Janice risk everything for him. Before he could stand, before he could come clean with the truth, a firm hand was pressing down on his shoulder as Mona stood up from behind him, forcing him to stay kneeling.

“I was also a favorite, sir,” Mona says, making Steve wonder what in the I-am-Spartacus hell was going on. Still, warmth and fondness for his girls spread through him quickly as he looked around and noticed every last one of them had bunched muscles indicating preparation for movement. For him.

Munson looked a whole lot less amused, however, his brow dropping into a deep furrow as his gaze settled on the new apparent favorite. Kas was well-known for not taking fondly to liars and cheats. If he suspected that they were trying to pull a fast one on him…

Just as Munson was opening his mouth to say something, looking far less than pleased, Steve hurriedly shot to his feet. “It’s me,” he said quickly, almost breathlessly, wanting to say it before someone else decided to shout out Spartacus in a misguided attempt to help him. He moved to take a step forward and away from the others when he froze in place by the sound of a gun being cocked and levelled behind him.

Another tense hush fell as Munson stared at him, his eyes dragging over Steve’s form with both brows raised this time, an almost startled air to his mean smile. He waited a few moments more before flicking his wrist, the sound of the gun and man holding it returning to standby mode. Two fingers were then crooked at Steve to indicate for him to finish stepping forward.

Steve glanced at Janice and Mona, giving their beseeching looks a small shake of his head, and then they were slowly and reluctantly returning to their kneeled positions. Taking a deep breath, Steve crossed the distance and moved to take his place in front of Munson, kneeling at his feet without hesitation. “It was me, sir,” he murmured, keeping his gaze down. “I was Master Porzio’s favorite.”

It took all of his willpower (and training) not to flinch when Munson’s chunky rings came into view, his calloused fingers touching Steve’s chin to lift his face to meet his gaze. Steve couldn’t suppress the tremble at finally meeting Munson’s eyes for the first time, terrified of seeing recognition there.

Instead, Munson’s eyes stayed hard and flat, though with a touch of curiosity. A small smirk curled his lips. “Well now. Who would have guessed Porzio was a fudge packer,” he lightly sneered. His gaze moved over to the kneeling women before back to Steve. “And this is why they lied to me, to protect the fairy amongst them?” He snorted. “Who knew there was honor amongst whores.”

Munson’s thumb slid lightly against the edge of Steve’s bottom lip, and well familiar with the gesture, Steve parted his lips obediently. Something dark but pleased flashed behind Munson’s eyes, and praying he was doing the right thing, Steve let the tip of his tongue flick ever so softly against the pad of Munson’s thumb.

Almost immediately after, Munson pressed the rest of his thumb into Steve’s mouth, pressing down on Steve’s tongue enough to make him briefly gag. “Suck,” he ordered harshly, and Steve obeyed.

The familiar taste of sweat and blood filled his mouth as Steve’s lips wrapped around Munson, but he paid it no mind as he worked at fellating the man’s thumb. He kept eye contact the entire time, his hands curled in his lap, as he worked his mouth over the digit. He swirled his tongue over the thumb like it was a cock head, bobbing his head ever so slightly. Munson’s dark eyes watched him the entire time.

Just as Steve was beginning to wonder if he should start faking some moans, Munson pulled his thumb from Steve’s mouth with a slick wet sound, leaving a small trail of spit over Steve’s lips. Munson lightly snorted, lifting his gaze to look at his men. With silent communication, the men nodded and motioned for the kneeling women to stand, ushering them out of the room.

Steve could feel the eyes on him, knew his girls were looking at him, but he knew better than to return the look. Instead, he kept his eyes firmly on Munson who now leaned back against the deck with his arms crossed watching Steve.

Once the thick doors clicked closed behind the others, leaving Steve and Munson alone, a wry grin curled over Munson’s lips. “I can see why you were the favorite, if you suck cock half as good as you suck thumb.” Munson shrugged, pushing off the desk with a small snort to walk around it, settling in the leather chair behind the massive thing. He reached forward and tapped the desk beside him.

Once more obeying wordlessly, Steve swiftly stood and moved around the desk, settling his ass just to the side of where Munson sat as had been indicated. A derisive laugh left Munson then, but he didn’t look like he was about to punish Steve for being what he was. Or who he was. Instead, he looked mildly contemplative as he rested his elbow on the armrest of his chair, propping his chin up with his fist.

“Tell me, sweetheart, you got a name?”

Relief coursed through Steve so quickly he lost his breath for a moment, as though lightning had struck him down. Munson didn’t know his name, meaning he didn’t recognize Steve. Even better, Steve hadn’t gone by Steve in a while. He needn’t worry about someone slipping up and revealing that information when none of them knew it either.

“I’m Vee,” he answered, fingers moving up to lightly graze against the charm hanging from his collar. “But you can call me anything you want…” Steve swallowed quickly, glancing down before peeking up demurely through his lashes, “Daddy,” he finished on a soft breath.

A grin spread across Munson’s lips, and though it wasn’t quite as manic as the ones he used to smile back in high school, a spark of something like genuine amusement flashed behind his eyes. He leaned forward then, sliding his hand over Steve’s fishnet covered thigh until his fingers brushed ever so slightly under the bottom hem of his tight skirt.

“I’ll keep that in mind, precious,” he smirked. “And maybe you can keep your status as favorite, if you’re a good little boy.” His eyes traveled once more over Steve’s body, his smirk growing. “Though I bet there’s nothing small about you, Vee.”

Steve swallowed, feeling oddly flushed at being on the receiving end of Munson’s gaze. Of Kas’s gaze. He had to remind himself that this was more than just his former schoolmate; this man was perhaps one of the most dangerous men alive. His vast network spread far and wide, spies hiding everywhere.

“I’ll be good for you, Daddy. Promise,” he said softly.

“Oh, I’m sure you will, precious. I don’t tolerate failure.”

What was expected of him now? Should he slide into Munson’s lap? Move underneath the desk? Bend over the top? Wouldn’t be the first time he was in any of those positions in this very room. Munson simply continued watching him, however, indicating nothing.

Just when Steve was ready to beg for an order, Munson sighed and removed his hand from Steve’s thigh, settling back further into the expensive rolling leather chair, pressing his fingertips together into a steeple before him.

“We will be remaining here for several days as we go over Porzio’s records,” Munson stated, startling Steve slightly. He was unused to being addressed about any affairs other than what happened in the bedroom. Or anywhere else his master wanted him. Having Munson tell him what was going to happen now was thus unprecedented.

“You and the other whores will have your room guarded at all times and you will require, let’s say, a chaperone of sorts to move around the manor, at least until I can trust you,” Munson said with another small smirk. “Once I am satisfied with my acquisition of the estate, we will be moving to my main residence. Should you and the others please me during this transition, we can negotiate a reward for behaving so well. Do you understand?”

Though Steve’s insides always pinched at being called a whore, seeing as how neither he nor the others ever chose that particular career path, he had enough practice now to ignore such things. It wasn’t like someone of Kas’s reputation would care overly much about their sob stories. No, Steve gave such things only a passing thought, his mind caught on the end of his new master’s sentence.

“A reward?” he couldn’t help but ask, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Luckily for him, Munson did not seem to be particularly annoyed at his wagging tongue.

“The exact circumstance of which will depend entirely on you,” Munson agreed. “Consider it a quid pro quo situation. You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. I can guarantee that this is a far better deal than you had with Porzio. However,” he cautioned, holding up a single finger. “Any failure to comply or please me will make whatever Porzio did to you seem like a shy lover’s kiss.”

Steve swallowed down a grimace. That he understood perfectly well.

“I will also have a doctor visit to ascertain your health,” Munson added with a small shrug, clasping his hands before himself. “I have no use for spoiled goods.”

“Master Por—”

A loud smack of hand meeting wood startled Steve greatly enough that a small noise left him as he jumped, leaning away with wide eyes. Munson stared hard at him, leaning in with a small growl of warning.

“Porzio is not your master now, Miss Vee,” the man sneered mockingly. “You will no longer refer to him as such. You may call him either ‘Porzio’ or ‘that pig’ and nothing else, do I make myself clear?”

Steve swallowed, hastily nodding his head. “Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry, Daddy,” he rushed to say, dropping his gaze and trying not to tremble too greatly. His—Porzio was never consistent. Whether he liked you timid or not could change at the drop of a hat, moving from one extreme to the other at a moment’s notice. He didn’t know if Munson would appreciate a fearful display, or become annoyed with it. Only time would tell.

“I-I merely wished to assure you that we receive regular checkups to ensure our optimum health,” he murmured quietly. “But we will gladly submit to any examination or procedure you wish of us.”

Munson sat back in the chair as he studied Steve with an unreadable expression now. He glanced down at his still bloodied hand and the rings there. He gave a small snort, moving to slowly and carefully pull the stained items off his fingers and settling them in a small pile on the messy desk.

“Clean those,” he ordered. “And then bring them to my room tonight.” He smirked then, his eyes sliding over Steve’s figure once more. “We have much to…discuss,” he murmured, his brows raising slightly. “And Vee,” he added when Steve nodded and moved to stand up, causing Steve to pause.

Munson’s smirk seemed colder then, causing Steve to shiver as though physically chilled. “While I appreciate your immediate acceptance in the change of leadership around here, know that how quickly you switched your loyalties has not been unnoticed. Should you ever attempt to switch them again…you will not find the outcome favorable. Do I make myself clear?”

Dread settled low in Steve’s belly as he stared at Munson with wide eyes. He was standing on the edge of a precipice he hadn’t known existed until too late. He should have realized things would not be as easy as he had hoped they would be, should not have grown complacent when Munson didn’t recognize him.

Licking his lips, Steve swallowed back the threatening rise of bile. He dropped his head, chewing lightly on his bottom lip before glancing at Munson through his lashes once more. “I had no genuine loyalty to…to that pig, Daddy,” he murmured. “He was not a respectable man. Unlike you, sir.”

Had it been Porzio, he would have attempted a coy smile. He had a feeling Munson would be able to see right through it, however, so he instead tried to look as earnest as possible without actively begging. He slowly slid off the desk, catching Munson’s eyes.

“We know who you are, Daddy. None of us would ever dare to oppose you. I know the loyalty of a whore means nothing, Don Kas, but I was the favorite. The other girls will follow my example, and I pledge my loyalty wholly unto you.”

Munson snorted, looking for all the world like Steve amused him. Like Steve was some insignificant insect with delusions of grandeur. The man rubbed at his facial hair with a wry smile that did not meet his eyes. “And what of your body, darling? What if I told you that your dear Mr. Porzio and I shared…similar predilections.”

Steve squared his shoulders, a more genuine smile on his own lips because he had already been expecting this, had known his career on his knees was far from over. One hand on the desk as he leaned over to grasp the waiting rings and the other on his hip, he offered a small shrug of a shoulder.

“My body already belonged to you the second Porzio thought to move against you,” he replied easily. “He was not my dear anything. Not when I was already yours, Master.”

Munson studied him for a moment, but something almost pleased curled at the corners of his lips. “I think I much prefer you calling me ‘Daddy,’” he replied, reaching out to grasp Steve’s chin again for the briefest moment. He withdrew almost immediately. “Go now. And wash your face of that makeup while you’re at it. Make yourself presentable for me tonight.”

It was as he expected. He could not be bitter or regretful when he’d known this was coming all along. It was, after all, much better than his own blood staining the rings he now held in his palm.

“Yes, Daddy. Should I prepare myself for you?” he asked easily as he straightened. He would play his own part well. He was used to this role he’d been thrust into ever since he put his trust in the wrong person. He had seen it enough with his own parents, making him wish that little high school Steve Harrington had known what he knew now:

Love is just a fairytale.

Standing from the chair, Munson let out a soft huff of laughter, amused by Steve’s words. “You really do have your lines down, don’t you?” he scoffed as though reading Steve’s mind. “No matter. We’ll see how well you play your part tonight,” he said in a tone that was almost teasing, his hand moving to settle over Steve’s lower back to guide him around the desk and towards the carved double doors.

He paused then with a hand on the doorknob, eyes almost black as he grinned a shark’s grin, and let his voice drop to an almost conspiratorial whisper. “Trust me when I say that nothing you could do would prepare you for what I have planned tonight, sweetheart.”

Munson opened the door then, ushering Steve out with a slap to his ass, though the soldiers guarding the door didn’t react at all. However, Steve could not spare them even a passing thought as his blood turned to ice in his veins when Munson’s grin grew, uttering the words that sealed Steve’s doom.

“See you tonight, Harrington.”

As the door clicked closed, as his prison guard stepped forward to take him by the bicep to drag him away back to his gilded cage with the others, Steve felt that blade of ice pierce his chest with extreme certainty.

There was no escape for him. His fate had been sealed the day he had defied his parents, had fled town with the boy he had thought loved him, and he had only brought it all upon himself. Munson was going to kill him. Maybe not today, maybe not even tomorrow, but one day. Perhaps even one day soon.

Thrust into the room he shared with the others, he felt the door close and lock behind him, heard the worried voices and careful touches of his girls as they frantically tried to make certain he was all right, but it was like hearing them underwater, like he was wading upstream through a deadly current. He was shaking, he realized, fat tears sliding down his cheeks.

Only belatedly did he realize his hand was hurting where he had curled his fist around the chunky rings. With an almost detached curiosity he glanced down as he released his clenched fist and stared at the rings he may very well be cleaning in preparation for his own blood and skull and brains to stain their surface.

Absently, he reached out with his free hand to pluck a strand of hair caught in the snarled teeth of a silver monster. There was a clump of bloody scalp still attached to the end of the follicle.

Steve laughed.

~

Next chapter…

~

This scene comes from an idea that would not leave me alone until I wrote it down. I don’t know if I’ll ever continue it as it is quite different from my usual stuff, but I do have some ideas for possible continuation and further backstory for our two leading men

Yeah nvm I’m gonna continue this, it won’t leave my thoughts

~

Fun fact: I almost named the second OFC Monica but then I realized that with the first one being named Janice that I was unintentionally writing it as a Friends crossover and I had to change her name before I named the next one Phoebe or something 😂 oops my bad

Also, Porzio means “hog”, while Carmine means “vivid red” lol

~

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[roadkillxd]

dom bf edging ghost🤭

It's just a little drabble but I'm not super great at dragging sex out. However I really, really enjoyed writing this :)

Ghost x M!Reader  ↪ 568 words — 18+ / SMUT

Content tags — cis male dominant reader, cis male submissive Ghost, edging, gags, praise kink, subspace, bondage, oral sex, rimming, fingering, insinuated breath play, very mild scent kink, and anal sex.

Ghost’s wrists are crossed and bound above his head with soft rope that loops around the metal bed frame. The muscles there bulge as he pulls tight against his restraints, veins prominent beneath the scars and the faded ink.

He growls behind the strip of cloth in his mouth—less a true gag and more for show. An implied purpose over a practical one, to keep from teetering over that perilous edge, the one you ride so carefully, driving Ghost insane emotionally and physically.

Like now, with his cock angry and red. Swollen hard and pulsing against the slick plane of his stomach, wet from the copious amounts of precum you’ve milked from his straining prick.

His chest is heaving, nostrils flaring, as you kitten lick at his rim before suckling at his balls, inhaling his musky scent, the redness of his face and the angry panting reminding you of a cartoon bull with steam coming out of its ears.

You lick a line up his cock, smiling at the thought before pulling away from the sensitive glands beneath his tip, earning a frustrated growl as he slams his head back into the pillow with a muffled, albiet loud, “FUCK!”

“You’re doing so good for me, lovey,” you purr, pressing a chaste little kiss to the tip of his cock that has the stiff flesh kicking violently, slapping wetly against your cheek and smearing little pearls across the flushed skin.

“I’m gon’a fuckin’ kill you,” he groans, lifting his head back up to glare down at you, eyes ablaze, and you only grin, nipping at his thigh.

You’re going to be in so much trouble when he recovers from this.

“D’you want me inside you, love? Filling you up? God, you’ve been so good…” you coo, and Ghost huffs, though you don’t miss the way his eyes flutter before he squeezes them shut.

“Fuck you,” he spits, flinching when you cup his cheek only to press into your touch the next moment.

“Yeah?” You breathe, shuffling up to kneel between his muscular thighs, his tongue peaking out past the drool drenched cloth for a second as he takes a steadying breath. Your hand moves from his cheek to his throat, lightly squeezing, and you can visibly see Ghost’s mind shutting off, his brain finally going silent as his eyes glaze over.

“Please,” he rasps, and you oblige him.

He’s already stretched, having lazily fingered him throughout the ordeal, and your cock nudges against his lax hole, sliding in easily as you sink into his tight walls.

He tenses the second you bottom out, crying out, and you visibly see his cock pulse as he finally cums, his hot spend splattering across his body in rolling waves. He nearly jackknives, knees trying to tuck up and almost kicking you in the jaw from the intensity of it all—of being pushed to the edge so many times and finally being allowed to topple over.

You soothe him through it, cooing and murmuring bits of praise, rocking your hips gently to coax him, to help him ride it out. His strangled gasps and choked moans are music to your ears, filling your core with warmth as you trace the scars of his body, teasing at his nipples as he slowly comes down from his high. You lean down to carefully kiss at his tears, and he clings to you like a lifeline.

[fallingforfictionalcharacterss]

Hiiiiii, can you write something where Draco and I are friends but crushing on each other. And then he gets into a fight, preferably about me, and I have to stitch him up and we get together? I hope you get what I mean. Love your blog.

Thank you so much for your request, and sorry for the delay. Hope this story will make it up again!

Yours 

Warnings: mentions of blood, I´ve done the Weasleys dirty in this one and I´m sorry but I needed an antagonist

You were sitting in the common room, your eyes flickering over the pages of the book in front of you. But somehow, the words blurred in front of your eyes, and even though you tried your best to understand the text, your mind simply didn´t process a single word written in an incredibly small and curved font on the heavy pages.

You groaned in annoyance as you dropped your quill, not even caring about the small sprinkles of ink splattering all over the old book pages, which Madame Pince would definitely hold you accountable for. You rubbed your eyes which were burning already from trying to decipher the writings for the last few hours. Your head was throbbing already and the fact that some first years were having some strident conversations only a few meters from you in their shrill voices, didn’t help at all. But no matter the circumstances, you still needed to finish your assignments.

But as your gaze fell on the parchment in front of you, you sighed once more. Because even though you were already sitting here for what felt like an eternity, you hadn’t even finished half of the writing you had to do for your essay in Professor Binn´s class. With your fingers you massaged your temples, trying to somehow ease the pounding of your head as you tore your gaze apart from your parchment again and looked around. You glanced at your friends, who were sharing the table with you, engrossed in the literature in front of them, just like you were supposed to be as well.

But your essay was long forgotten when your gaze wandered from Pansy to Blaise before it got stuck on one of your friends. One, who was able to make you forget what you were doing, no matter how important your task was. Because there was for sure nothing more important in this world than Draco Malfoy.

Draco and you had been friends for years by now. Your families had known each other even before you had come to Hogwarts and from time to time, you had already seen him and had always gotten along with the blond boy back then. But since you attended Hogwarts, the two of you were almost inseparable. Ever since the first day, when you had sat down next to him after the sorting hat had announced that you were a Slytherin from that moment on, and he had applauded louder than anyone else in the room and had greeted you with a board grin on his face when you had strutted down the aisle with a smug grin on your face, you had been. You would sit together during the meals and classes, would study together, but also spend most of your free time with one another, sometimes with, sometimes without your other friends. And honestly -even though you loved all your friends dearly- you didn´t mind whether they kept your company as well or not, as long as you were just with Draco. The tie that the two of you shared was something special and over the years it had only grown stronger.

What you hadn’t expected though was that the older you got and the stronger the connection between the two of you grew, the more your feelings towards the blond Slytherin changed as well. Because while when you had been nothing more than kids, Draco had been nothing but your best friend in the entire world, now that you were almost grown up, he was much more to you than that. He truly still was your friend -you had no doubt of that- but by now the boy who would always look at you with the sweetest smile on his face that he only ever showed to you, the boy you would spend more time with than with anyone else and the boy who you shared all your secrets with, had by now become a secret as well. And little did Draco know that he was the only secret you hid from him as well. Because what your best friend wasn’t aware of was that you had developed by now an oh so slightest crush on him, and felt your heartbeat quicken whenever he looked into your eyes and shivers running down your spine, whenever he touched you, completely unaware of how your legs threatened to give in every single time he did so.

And even now that he was sitting right in front of you, lost in the rather boring world of Wendelin the Weird, you felt your heart beating faster in your chest once more, even though he did nothing more than just being there. You knew how absolutely crazy and kitschy it sounded, but the sheer existence of Draco Malfoy was already enough to make a small smile creep on your face. And the fact that you were lucky enough to sit right here and watch him just being himself, made you feel like you were the luckiest person in the world. Your own essay was completely forgotten as you watched Draco´s quill gliding over the parchment, creating an artwork of words, scribbled down in his beautiful curvaceous yet neat handwriting. While one hand was holding the quill, the other held onto the parchment, preventing it from slipping away. You noticed the way the dim light of the candles was reflected by the rings covering his slim fingers. Your gaze wandered up to his hair, which was shimmering in the light as well, making it look almost golden. It was by now almost long enough to fall into his eyes, and he brushed it out of his face every few minutes with an impatient movement. You could see that the small frown he always held on his face only deepened now that his silvery eyes danced over the pages of the books in front of him before fixing on the parchment he was scribbling on again.

You didn’t know how long you had been staring at him like that, taking in every small detail of his presence, before Draco finally noticed your gaze lingering on him. When he looked up and locked his eyes with yours, his delicate facial features softened slightly and his lips curled into a small smile. It took you a few seconds to realize that he had caught you staring, but when you did, you quickly lowered your gaze again, feeling the blush creeping on your cheeks before you remembered that Draco wasn’t only someone you had a stupid not-so-little crush on and had to be ashamed that he had caught you staring, but that the boy was also your closest friend and there was nothing wrong with looking at him from time to time. So you slowly glanced up at him again, and realized that his gaze was still fixed on you, still holding so much more tenderness in his eyes than you had ever seen when he looked at someone else. You slowly returned the smile he threw you, trying to get yourself out of that embarrassing spiral of admiration again and back to reality.

“Are you alright?”, Draco asked in a low voice, eying you slightly concerned.

Your smile only grew wider and you nodded.

“Yeah, just a bit hard to concentrate today.”

Little did Draco know that you mainly struggled to focus on your homework because he was just way too beautiful to not get distracted. All that Draco noticed was the way your hands were still pressed to your temples and you closed your eyes in annoyance when one of the first years keeping your company let out an particularly loud laugh.

“Hey!”, Draco barked, as he turned around to the kids and threw them a deadly glare. “Some of us still have to work here, so either be quiet or get lost.”

One of the kids already wanted to protest, but as it looked up to Draco, realizing who was just staring down at them, it quickly lowered their gaze again and the children quickly packed their things and fled out of the common room.

Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest and watched them leave with narrowed eyes, but as soon as the door closed behind them, he relaxed again and a smug smile appeared on his face.

He turned around to you again.

“Better now?”

You chuckled.

“That was kinda mean.”

Draco mirrored your grin and shrugged his shoulders.

“What did you expect?”

“Oh yeah, when his princess is unwell, he always makes sure to take care of whatever causes her discomfort.”, Pansy suddenly stepped in, before you could answer.

She and Blaise exchanged an amused glance, while you just rolled your eyes, trying to hide the blush that threatened to appear on your cheeks once more.

“Don´t tell me they didn’t annoy you as well, Pansy.”, Draco huffed, avoiding your gaze.

“I never said I would mind.”, the girl chirped happily.

“But it sounded like you did.”

“I´m just questioning your motives.”

“My motives are to get rid of those annoying little bastards so I can study in peace?”

“So you can or so (Y/n) can?”

“And if so? Why shouldn’t I help her out?”

“Why should you?”

“Have you ever heard of the term friends, Pansy?”

“Is that what you are?”, Pansy asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Merlin, Pansy, can´t you stop it for once?”, you asked, slightly annoyed.

Pansy was fully aware of the feelings you had for Draco. She had somehow already known it even before you did and had teased you about it the entire time. And when you had -not long ago- finally admitted to your roommate that you actually felt something more for the Slytherin than just strictly platonic friendship, you had hoped that this would finally satisfy her curiosity and she would shut up about it. But you couldn’t have been more wrong. Because even though Pansy had solemnly promised to not tell Draco about anything you had told her, she still brought it up at every chance, and mostly in not very subtle ways. But luckily Draco wasn’t aware of the truth behind her words, even though you sometimes suspected that he had a faint idea that there was more to this than he saw at the moment. Still, he always brushed Pansy off and never brought any of this up to you on other occasions, which left you on the one hand really relieved, but on the other hand also slightly disappointed. Even though you were totally fine with Draco and you being nothing but friends, you still wished from time to time that your feelings weren’t one-sided and that someday, Draco would make some kind of move on you. But at the moment, it looked as if it was more likely that hell would freeze than Draco doing so. But just as persistent as Draco was in denying that he had any feelings for you besides friendship, as persistent was Pansy in trying to change his mind.

“I will stop the moment the two of you will stop denying.”, Pansy stated with a sly grin on her face.

“Not gonna happen.”, you said, and even though you had been the one who said it out loud, you could still feel the stinging in your heart as you saw Draco nodding in confirmation.

“Maybe you should just play pretend at least once. I´m sure she will shut up then.”, Blaise snickered.

You let yourself fall back in your chair and sighed dramatically.

“Don’t do this to me, Blaise. Not you too.”

“I just want your best (Y/n). You know that.”, Blaise smirked as he winked at you.

“And what exactly would that be?”

Blaise´s gaze wandered from you to Draco and his grin only grew wider, but just as he opened his mouth and you were already preparing for yet another implication you would have to defend yourself against, Draco cut his friend off.

“Speaking of the best, we have to leave, Blaise. Quidditch practice is going to start soon.”

You let out a small sigh of relief when Draco and Blaise started packing their things, hoping the topic was over for now. But Pansy wasn’t pleased at all.

“You can´t leave.”, she whined. “Not now that it just got interesting.”

Draco threw your friend a sly grin.

“Feel free to join us, Pansy. We can always use some cheerleaders.”

Blaise and you snickered, as Pansy pulled a face.

“Have you taken a look outside? You can´t expect me to get out there in this weather.”

And even though you loved to watch your team -and especially Draco- practice, you had to admit, that the thought of getting out there while it was raining and storming wasn’t very intriguing.

Blaise rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, Draco. It´s unreasonable to ask her to sit on the stand with an umbrella and a cosy raincoat while we´ll only hover on our brooms somewhere in the sky, hoping we won´t be struck by a lightning.”

Draco grinned at his friend.

“Right Blaise. How could I not think of that.” He turned around to Pansy and you and made a slight bow. “Enjoy your evening ladies. Maybe you´ll think of us when you´re sitting in front of the fireplace while we're out there defending the honour of our house.”

Now it was on you to roll your eyes, even though you had to try really hard to hide your smile.

“We will, Draco. I promise.”, you said in a honeyed voice.

And when the boys turned around to leave, Pansy couldn’t bite her tongue and quickly added: “What is it Draco? Don´t you want to kiss your beloved goodbye?”

You nudged Pansy almost as hard as Draco nudged Blaise when the tall boy shouted over his shoulder: “If Draco doesn’t want to; I volunteer!”

When the door of the common room closed behind the boys, you fell back in your chair and threw Pansy a deadly glance. But as your friend just grinned at you cheekily, you couldn’t help but mirror her smile soon. As much as you hated your friends from time to time; there was no way you would ever want to change them for anything in this world.

But if you had hoped that Pansy would let the matter rest now that Draco had left, you couldn’t have been more wrong. Because when you had packed your things as well and curled up on one of the couches in front of the fireplace, after some Smalltalk, Pansy came back to talking about her favourite topic. She eyed you from the side, while you stared into the flames, completely unaware of the fact that Pansy was already planning the next discussion. The Slytherin shuffled a bit closer to you and placed her arm on the backrest of the couch while turning to you.

“Sooo…”, she started in an innocent voice. “What was that about? Earlier, I mean?”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“What was what about?”

“Draco...”, Pansy started, and you let out an annoyed groan, knowing where this would go, but Pansy continued unbothered: “Draco and you were completely in denial once more.”

“There´s no need to be in denial if there´s nothing going on, Pansy.”

“But you have a thing for him.”

“So?” You knew it was pointless to lie to her.

“So? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Oh yeah, that would have been fun. Hey Draco, you just told everyone we´re just friends but actually I think I´m hopelessly in love with you, so why don’t you just change your mind?”

Your voice was oozing with sarcasm, but Pansy acted as if she didn’t notice and threw you a sweet smile.

“Ain´t that hard, is it?”

“It is. Draco is a great friend. And I don’t want to lose him. Things are good the way they are. Why should I change anything about it?”

“Because things could still be much better (Y/n).”, Pansy answered. “And I won´t stop bothering you until the two of you will finally admit it.”

“Good luck then. Because I won´t make a move on him for sure. And Draco won´t do so either because he is simply not interested in me like that.”

“How do you know?”

“He would have told me. We´re friends.”

“Just like you told him?”, Pansy asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I… Well, that´s… That´s different.”, you mumbled, fully aware of the lack of logic in your argumentation. And Pansy was so as well.

“Is it?”, she stated, in a now much softer voice.

Instead of answering, you just shrugged your shoulders, before your gaze settled on the fireplace again, while your mind drifted off to a certain blond boy, making your heart beat faster once more at the mere thought that Pansy´s words held at least some kind of truth.

Little did you know that Draco faced a confrontation with this delicate topic once more this day as well. And not only the comments Blaise teased him with as soon as the door of the common room shut behind them. Draco faced an even more uncomfortable situation soon after the Quidditch practice was over.

Blaise and Draco had just left the pitch and were on their way back to the castle, chatting about the upcoming game against the Gryffindors, when they spotted said players walking towards the pitch, they had booked this afternoon as well. The Gryffindors, led by Harry Potter, were still several meters away when they spotted Draco and Blaise. But while Potter seemed to want to avoid a confrontation and stay well clear of Draco, the Slytherin didn’t want to let the chance pass to humiliate his archenemy once more. So Draco walked directly towards Potter and the others, who already eyed him distrustfully, with a sly grin on his face, followed by Blaise, who -even though he detested the Gryffindors just as much as Draco- preferred to just ignore them and not get into any trouble. But since Blaise knew that Draco was up to no good, he followed his friend, with a discontented face.

“Oi, Potter!”, Draco called the Gryffindor out, who let out an unpleasant sigh, trying to ignore Draco, until he couldn’t anymore since Draco cut off his way.

“What is it, Malfoy?”, Potter asked with an annoyed look on his face, while his teammates surrounded him like some bodyguards.

“On your way to the pitch, Potter?”, Draco asked in a haughty voice that he mostly only used when people like Potter and the other blood traitors were around. You hated it when Draco talked to people as if they were below his dignity -even though they were- and the boy knew that very well. But since you were nowhere to be seen, you also couldn’t mind, could you?

“I don’t think that´s any of your business, Malfoy.”, Potter answered coldly.

Draco raised an eyebrow unimpressed.

“Oh, it will be. The game is coming up. It wouldn’t be a challenge if you would break your neck today, would it?”

“I could almost think you´re worried about me.”, Potter returned, before wanting to pass Draco, but the Slytherin stepped in his way once more.

“Only worried that I won´t get to witness the moment you´ll be reunited with your filthy mudblood mother.”, Draco spat out.

He smirked smugly as he heard the gasps as soon as he had said the m-word. After a short shock, Johnson, Bell and Spinnet had their hands full, trying to prevent Harry and the Weasley twins from lunging at Draco. He wanted to add something to infuriate his opponents even more, but Blaise was quick to step in the way.

“Let´s go Draco. (Y/n) and Pansy are already waiting for us.” Blaise´s voice sounded uninterested, almost bored, but deep down, he was slightly concerned that Draco´s behaviour one day might actually hurt him. And when he scanned the tensed features of the Gryffindors and the fact that there were ten of them but n the other side only Draco and him, he knew it wouldn’t take any good turns if Draco would continue pushing his limits.

Draco´s eyes flickered from his opponents to his friend, as he thought about it for a moment. Then he gave Blaise a short nod and gave the way free.

“I see you at the match, Potter.”, he hissed, while shooting the boy a spiteful look.

But as Draco and Blaise just wanted to leave, someone called him out again. Because while Draco had always thought that he was rather good at hiding his feelings, he was completely clueless about the fact that almost the entire school already knew that Draco was all over you ever since the two of you had met. And when Fred Weasley had seen how Draco´s face had softened for the split of a second when Blaise had mentioned your name, the red-headed boy decided to push his luck after Draco had had the audacity to talk about Harry´s mother right in front of him like that.

“Malfoy!”, one of the Weasley twins called him out. Draco ignored it. “Don’t you want to send (Y/l/n) down here when you get back?”

Draco froze when he heard your name. He clenched his jaw, as he slowly turned around, eyeing the boy distrustfully.

“What was that?”

“I asked you to send (Y/l/n) down here. She might want to see how real Quidditch is played, don’t you think George?”

The other twin, who had easily understood the plan, nodded in confirmation, the same mischievous grin on his face as his brother.

“I was thinking just the same, Fred. She won´t get to see that often, since she´s in Slytherin.”

Draco stepped closer to them, a murderous shimmer in his eyes.

“Say this again. I dare you.”

The Weasleys chuckled.

“Ohhh, now I´m really scared. Aren´t you too, Fred?”

“I´m already shaking in my knees, George. But honestly mate,”, Fred Weasley turned around to Draco with some fake pity on his face, even though Draco saw the corner of his mouth twitching. “Don’t you think (Y/n)” The Slytherin flinched. How dared this blood traitor to think he would ever be on a first name basis with you? “is a bit out of your league?”

“Way out of your league.”, his brother added.

The twins watched how Draco´s face reddened. They had barely ever seen him that close to the edge. So why not push him a bit further?

“Maybe I should ask her to cheer for us at the next game. Then she would be on the side of the winners at least once. And maybe afterwards she would be down for more? What do you think (Y/n) would say if I would ask her out, Malfoy?”, Fred Weasley asked, even though he had no intention of actually doing so. You were the enemy after all, plus, everyone knew that you would most likely hex him to Mars if he would still try to do so. But the way Draco´s jaw clenched showed the Gryffindor that he had hit just the right spot. “I don’t think she would mind, I mean her standards can´t be that high, can they? She´s friends with you after all. That´s what you are, aren’t you? Just friends?”

“That´s none of your business Weaselbee.”, Draco growled through gritted teeth.

“Seems like I´ve got it right then. So, if you are such a good friend you won´t mind if I would ask her out someday? I feel like the two of us could have much fun once we got to know each other and we could…”

But before Fred Weasley had even finished his sentence, Draco had decided that he had heard enough. He had always been one to not let others know how much he cared, and to be careful to express his emotions. And even though he knew very well, the Gryffindor was just talking like that to provoke him, at this point, he didn’t care anymore. No one was allowed to run their mouth over his girl like that. But while normally, Draco would have planned his revenge carefully and over a long time, hitting his target when they expected it the least, right now he didn’t want anything else but the red-headed boy to just shut up. And when Draco´s fist hit the boy´s jaw, he saw red.

When you heard the door of the common room open, you recognized the steps immediately. You turned your head and smiled at the boys who had just entered the room.

“Finally! What took you so long? The others had been back almost half an hour ago. We already thought you got lost or…”

You stopped mid-sentence and the grin on your face froze as the two Slytherins walked up to you and you could take a closer look at them.

“By Merlin´s beard. What happened to you?”, Pansy gasped, as she jumped up from the couch and walked up to your friends. You followed shortly behind.

The same question lingered in your mind as well, but you would also be able to get your answers later on. Right now, it was your top priority to get Draco to sit down, since he looked like he could barely stand on his own anymore, and you had no doubt that if Blaise would let him go, Draco´s legs would give in the very same moment.

Quickly, you walked up to them and grabbed Draco´s arm; the one that wasn’t wrapped around Blaise´s shoulder. With joint forces, you managed to place Draco on one of the couches, where he sank down immediately, letting out a small groan. On any other day, you would have scolded the boys for sitting down on the expensive fabric in their dirty Quidditch uniforms, but now you were much more concerned about the blood. And not only because it would ruin the material even more than all the mud, but because you had no idea why it was there in the first place.

When Draco and Blaise had both sat down, you brightened the light in the room with a swish of your wand, taking a closer look at the disaster.

Blaise had a chapped lip, but besides this and the gloomy look in his eyes, he seemed to be alright. With Draco, you weren’t that sure of that. His entire face seemed to be bruised and his nose was bleeding heavily. When he tried to stop the blood flow with his hands, you noticed, that his knuckles were stained red as well.

“What happened?”, Pansy asked once more, while you were digging in your bag for a tissue.

Draco just pressed his lips together, probably trying to avoid choking on the blood.

“Blaise?”, Pansy asked when she realized that he would be the only one she would get her answers from.

By now you had found a tissue and handed it to Draco, who pressed it against his nose. Red stains spread across the material in no time.

“Ask the knight in shining armour.”, Blaise huffed.

You frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Blaise looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“I mean that your boyfriend gets himself willingly beaten up just to defend your honour.”

The way the boy glared at you made you almost feel like you had been the one who had to be held accountable for this. You wanted to say something, but Draco was faster.

“Shut it Blaise.”, he mumbled, his voice sounding muffled through the tissue.

“Oh yeah, why should I say something about it? I only took a punch to get you out of this alive. And all of this because you can always dish it out and never take it.” You had never heard Blaise raising his voice like he did now. If you wouldn’t know him for such a long time, it would be rather scary to see the naturally intimidating-looking boy like that.

“Why don’t I get some dressing material to stitch you up first?”, you suggested, before Blaise could get himself into a rage. “Unless you want to get to Madame Pomfrey. It might be better if she will take a look at this. Especially your nose Draco. You should really…”

But Draco shook his head firmly before flinching in pain.

“Won´t get there just because of some stupid scratches.”

You looked at the boy with narrowed eyes. Normally, Draco was the first one to get carried away when he felt unwell, making everyone else around him suffer as well. But now that he actually had a reason, he didn’t want to play the dying swan? Something felt off about this. But you would have enough time to think about it after you had stitched him up again.

“Then I´ll get the dressing material to take care of the two of you real quick and then…”

“No need for that.”, Blaise huffed, as he stood up. “I´ll get to my room. Looks like Draco is in safe hands now.”

For a second you thought that you had seen the corner of his mouth twitching before his face hardened again and he stood up.

“Are you sure about that?”, you asked him worriedly.

Blaise nodded.

“I´ll be fine. At least as long as I won´t get beaten up again just because the two of you can´t figure yourself out.”

Then, without another word, Blaise left, leaving you even more confused than before about his strange comment. Pansy sighed and stood up as well.

“He´s gonna get a grip on himself again soon. Don’t worry, I´ll make sure he´s okay.”

Then she followed Blaise and left as well, leaving Draco and you alone. You looked at the blond boy whose hair was now completely messed up and whose eyes were halfway closed. You felt some stinging in your heart. Whoever had done this to him; you would make them pay for it. But only after you had made sure that Draco was alright. Carefully you brushed some strands of hair out of Draco´s face, making him open his eyes again fluttery.

“I´ll get everything together and then I´ll stitch you up. Are you okay with that?”

“Do I even have a choice?”, Draco chuckled, but since his voice sounded still weak and his face was much paler than usual, you couldn’t bring yourself to mirror his wry smile. You worried just way too much about him now to even bring yourself to throw him even the smallest smile.

“I´ll hurry.”, you said before you stood up from the couch.

But before you could leave, Draco grabbed you by the wrist, making you flinch at the unexpected touch.

“Stay.”, he whispered.

You felt goosebumps creeping over your skin when you heard how raspy his voice sounded.

“And who´s gonna stitch you up then?”

“I don’t need that. I just need you. So stay. Please.”

You tried to ignore the warmth flushing through your entire body. But right now wasn’t the right moment to get irritated by Draco´s words. Gently, you disengaged Draco´s grip and stepped back.

“I´ll be right back. And then I´ll stay. I promise.”

It didn’t even take you five minutes to gather all the things you would need to take care of Draco. Then you rushed back to the boy who still sat on the couch, sunken down and his head resting on the backrest.

When the Slytherin boy heard your steps coming near, however, he carefully lifted his head and gave you a weak smile. After you had chased away some onlookers, threatening to hex anyone who would come near you or even dare to look in your direction, you got yourself a chair and sat down right in front of Draco, before you asked him to sit up a bit straighter. He followed your command, but you could see him pulling a face in pain as he did so, making your heart ache as if it wasn’t him that had taken the punches, but you. Even though you felt as if it would have been much easier to be the one being beaten up than watching the person who meant the most to you in this world suffering like that.

You brushed some strands of hair out of Draco´s face before you started cleaning his wounds tenderly and systematically. The boy flinched whenever you touched him, but he bit his tongue until you tried to sterilize the bleeding parts of his face.

“Damn it (Y/n). Are you trying to kill me with this stuff?”, he hissed and glared at you.

You pulled back slightly, feeling guilty that you hurt him even more, even though you knew you had to do so to prevent his wounds from becoming infected and making things only worse.

“I´m sorry.”, you whispered. “I didn’t mean to. If you need a break…”

But Draco´s gaze softened again immediately when he saw the concern clouding your face as you lowered your gaze, not able to withstand his deadly glare.

“It´s alright.”, Draco said, his voice sounding much gentler now.

“Are you sure? Maybe we should get you some professional help after all. If you don’t want to go to the hospital wing, I could get Madame Pomfrey to come here or…”

You fell silent when you felt Draco´s hand touching your chin, forcing you to lift your head and look at him.

“It´s alright darling. I trust you and I´m sure I´m in the safest hands I can be right now. Let´s just get this behind us as soon as possible, okay?”

You nodded and let out a small chuckle.

“I should be the one calming you down, you know that? Not the other way around.”

Draco mirrored your smile.

“Not everyone can be as tough as I am, love.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Draco was many things, but tough wasn’t a word you would use to describe the boy. At least not before today.

“Obviously.”, you laughed. “But if your that tough, you will let me finish disinfecting your wounds now, won´t you?”

Draco nodded, even though he looked as if he would rather not be having you continue.

“Of course.”

After several minutes, you had finally finished stitching up his face. The tinctures you had used already worked wonders. The bleeding had mostly stopped, and the bruises already started to fade. Now it was only Draco´s hands that were left. Carefully, you took his large hand in your smaller one and started cleaning up his knuckles. But luckily, most of the blood on his hands didn’t seem to be his.

“Let me guess, I don’t want to see the other guy.”, you tried to tease him, when you had finished treating his first hand and now examined the second one.

Draco shrugged his shoulders.

When you noticed that he didn’t answer and avoided your gaze, you looked at Draco concerned.

“He is alright, isn’t he? You didn’t… hurt him that bad, did you?”, you asked in a shaky voice.

You knew that Draco would never try to hurt someone permanently on purpose, but you also knew that he was rather impulsive, and you had no doubt that under certain circumstances, the situation might escalate. When Draco still didn’t answer, you started to panic slightly.

“Draco, what happened? You know you can tell me. But if you did something I need to know so we can work this out and…”

“Everyone else is just fine, okay?”, Draco cut you off in a sharp voice. His hand clenched around yours as he glared up at you for the split of a second before he lowered his gaze again. “I… I barely even landed one punch.”, he added in a lower voice, sounding almost embarrassed, and you noticed a rosy shimmer creeping on his cheeks.

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, that you tried to conceal with a cough. You had never taken Draco for someone who would physically attack anyone -he would leave that to others- but when he had entered the room, you had somehow automatically assumed that he had been involved in some kind of spectacular fight. But then another thought came to your mind, that whipped away the small grin you tried to hide so hard again.

“Did somebody waylaid you?”, you asked. Your voice was already shaking from anger at the mere thought that someone might have been so cowardly that they would…

“Nobody did so, okay?”, Draco said, sounding slightly annoyed by now.

You sighed and put the dressing material to the side. Still, even if he was by now completely stitched up, you didn’t let go of Draco´s hand when you asked him: “Don’t you want to tell me what happened?”

But Draco just shook his head.

“Why?”

Draco hesitated before he answered: “It´s embarrassing.”

You frowned. It wasn’t like you didn’t know any embarrassing stories about Draco yet. You knew each other for such a long time and told each other everything. You couldn’t think of a single scenario that would be so awkward Draco wouldn’t want to tell you.

“So?”

“I don’t want you to think of me poorly.”

Your thumb brushed over the back of Draco´s hand, making him shiver. Even though the situation was serious, you couldn’t help but feel a pleasant feeling spreading across your body as you noticed his reaction.

“Draco, we know each other for so long. We´ve been best friends ever since I can remember. Nothing you have done could ever make me think that. I´m simply worried. Things like that don´t happen that easily. And Blaise made those strange comments…”

“Blaise doesn’t know what he´s talking about.”, Draco huffed.

“But something must have happened.”, you contradicted. “So what could be so bad you don’t want to tell me?”

The boy looked at you with narrowed eyes, as if he wanted to estimate if he could actually trust you with that. And he seemed to come to the conclusion that he could because he blurted out: “One of the Weasleys provoked me, so I went for him. But he was with the entire Quidditch team, so Blaise had to get me out.”

You looked at Draco in disbelief.

“Blaise and you against… how many? Seven Gryffindors? Have you completely lost your mind?”

“Ten. Their substitute players were there as well.”, he mumbled while lowering his gaze.

You let out a snort.

“Oh well, even better. What in the name of Salazar is wrong with you Draco? Did you want to get yourself killed?”

Draco looked at you defiantly.

“You weren’t there. If you would have been you would understand. If you would have heard what that Weasley boy has said. I couldn’t just stand there and let him run his mouth about…” He stopped.

“About what? Tell me Draco. What is so important that it´s worth getting yourself beaten up like that. And Blaise too?”

“I never asked him to step in.”

“So he should have just watched?”

“Would have been better for him, wouldn’t it?”

“And you would be in the Hospital wing now then. In the best case.”

You shook your head in disbelief. As much as you loved that boy, sometimes his ego was just too big for his own good.

“Would have still been worth it though.”, Draco mumbled under his breath, but you still caught it.

“What in this world could ever be worth it to get yourself in such a situation?”, you asked, your voice slowly getting louder. Even though you were furious about what the Gryffindors had done to Draco, right now, you were just as mad at the boy himself. “Let me tell you, nothing is worth it. That was just stupid. So what the hell were you thinking?”

"I was thinking that nobody should talk about you the way he did.”, Draco said vehemently. As he returned your gaze you could see his eyes sparkling.

Your face fell.

“What?” You were pretty sure you had misheard.

“I think you heard me very well (Y/n).”

“But that´s… I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

Draco sighed as he looked down at your fingers still intertwined with his. He knew you wouldn’t give in until he would tell you. And maybe he should. Actually, he also wanted to. He trusted you with his life and he didn’t want to keep a single thing from you. But on the other hand, he also wanted to protect you. And not only you but also the relationship the two of you had. Because Draco was, just like you, scared that talking about his feelings for you to you, might ruin your friendship. It could also lead to something more, something he was craving much more than anything else. But would this be worth taking the risk of ending up with nothing at all? Draco had always been precarious about his decision to keep such an important thing from you. And after everything that had happened today, he thought that maybe this had been the wrong decision. Maybe this situation would have been preventable if he would have known where he actually stood with you. And if you would have known where you stood with him. He didn’t put the blame on you for what had happened though. Not at all. This was all his fault. His, and the one of this stupid red-headed Gryffindor with that stupid smile on his face that Draco had wanted to whip away so badly. And now that he looked at you, returning his gaze worriedly, while your hands were still cupping his, he knew that he couldn’t keep it away from you. Not if the secret he had kept from you had led to the situation that had deepened the lines of worry on your face and had taken that beautiful smile of yours from your lips.

“Fred Weasley. He just… He was talking about you. About how you should come to see them play so you would see how Quidditch actually gets played.” He stopped, thinking about what he should tell you next.

“And that set you off?”, you asked, your frown also visible in your voice.

Draco shook his head.

“Not yet. But he was also talking about how… If I thought that the two of you could ever be a thing. And how your standards couldn’t be that high since you´re friends with me. And… How the two of us are nothing more than friends and I… I just lost it then.”

You looked at the boy you had always assumed that he saw nothing more than a friend in you after all with widened eyes. Draco returned your gaze for a second, not sure how to read the expression on your face, before he figured out he might have said too much and looked away again. You stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out how you could figure out why Draco was so upset about it without him getting mad once more. He must have obviously known that Weasley had just wanted to provoke him with his words, but then again Draco had heard much worse things than that. He knew that you would never be interested in a blood traitor like the Weasleys were and that your standards were, in fact, extraordinarily high, since you chose your friends carefully and you opened not only your arms but also your heart to even more precariously. And even though you hated things to be that way, Draco and you were just friends. Nothing more. It wasn’t like you wanted it that way, but you had always assumed that he did. So why in the name of Salazar would these words upset him so much that he would lose control like this for the very first time?

“I still don’t get it Draco.”, you said, your fingers nervously fiddling on his, “You know I´m way out of league for any Weasley and I never thought that you would care what one of them thinks about me. Or about you. About us.”

“You didn’t hear the way he was talking about you. As if he could have you. And I couldn’t. As if you would belong to him. But you are mine. Mine only. Aren´t you?”

You looked at Draco in surprise. It wasn’t only his words that caught you off guard, implying things you had to this day only dreamed about; what caught your attention, even more, was the desperate sound of his voice and the pleading look in his eyes as he returned your gaze. As if he was scared that you would contradict him, turning him down. Draco had never been one who was begging for validation, at least not in a verbal way. But now he did. When you looked at him it felt as if he was asking you to reassure him that you belonged to him indeed. That you would be with him and that you would stay with him. You felt a wave of warmth and adoration flushing through your body as you looked at him looking at you in a way you had never seen him looking at anyone before.

“Yours. And yours only.”, you confirmed, and your heart was pounding in your chest way too fast as you added in a low voice: “In any way you want me to be.”

And when Draco smashed his lips on yours, you could feel all the emotions that the two of you had held back over the last few years. It was an eager kiss, telling you all the things Draco hadn’t found the words to say yet, and the other way around. The boy cupped your face in his hands, pulling you even closer and you gave in to him as if it was the easiest thing in the world. And honestly, it was. In the new sensation of his lips on yours, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and his hands brushing over your cheeks oh so slightly, before his grip tightened once more as if he would never want to let you go ever again, you found a feeling you had been longing for ever since you had become aware of your feelings for the boy, and most likely even longer.

You probably would have stayed like this forever, if Draco wouldn’t suddenly have flinched and pulled back slightly.

“Careful love, I´m not in top condition yet.”, he mumbled, after you had unintentionally placed one of your hands on one of the bruises still covering his face.

You looked at him ruefully.

“Sorry.”, you mumbled, while your fingertips caressed said bruises with a featherlight touch, wary to not hurt him again.

A small smile crept on Draco´s lips.

“Don’t ever apologise for this, darling. You have no idea how much I needed this.”

You mirrored his smile.

“I might have a faint suspicion.”, you answered, making Draco chuckle. You took his hand in yours, letting your lips ghost over his bruised knuckles, placing some small kisses on the parts that looked the worst. “But the next time just come up to me right away. There´s no need to get yourself almost beaten to death first.”

“If that´s the reward than it´s a price I´m willing to pay.”, Draco responded, before he pecked your lips once more.

You knew it was a joke, but still, it hurt you to know that you were at least somehow responsible for what had happened. You looked at the boy with a grave face. Your forehead was pressed against his and even though Draco felt the pounding in his head, he still tried to pull you closer, not wanting to have the slightest bit of anything separating you.

“I´m serious, Draco. It´s just… I can´t stand to see you hurt.”, you mumbled. "And if something would go wrong... If something would ever happen to you..." Your voice broke.

Draco tucked some strands of hair behind your ear and smiled at you.

“I´m serious as well, love. But then again, I can´t think of many things I can spend my time with in a better way. Especially now.” He wanted to pull you closer again but grunted from the pain he still was in, even though he felt like every centimetre of his body that was burning and stinging was totally worth it. “But maybe I shouldn’t exaggerate for now.”, he added, before sinking back onto the couch.

You helped Draco find a position that was somewhat comfortable for him, but as soon as you leaned back next to him as well, he changed his position again, shuffling closer to you, laying his head on your shoulder, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Are you comfortable like this?”, you asked, still concerned about his battered condition.

But Draco just nodded and hummed in confirmation, before turning his head slightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck to pepper some light kisses all over your sensitive skin, making you sigh.

“I´ve never been better.”

You let out a chuckle, but Draco was serious.

“As long as we just stay that way, I can´t see a single reason why I should complain.”

You felt as if your heart might burst from affection as you looked down at the boy, who looked -besides the bruises still covering his body- so peaceful and content as you had barely ever seen him. And you felt just the same. Slowly you started to relax and melted into the touch of the boy you loved more than anyone else in this world.

“Then we might as well never get up again.”, you joked.

But both of you knew that the way it was right now, was actually the best you could wish for. And that you would never want to change anything about it indeed.

Taglist: @xodracomalfoyxo @marigold-morelli @army24—7 @lbhmoon @cappgyuccino @writingwitch007 @myomy0ss @tinafuentes @dmslvt @Slytherin4eva @foulkryptonitepeanut

[dimicul]

I’d like to think Simon’s first ‘girlfriend’ was purely on accident.

Ink stained fingers, scratched up beaten palms - he has his hands around a paperback book he had been eyeing for weeks now. He’s not one to steal, he knows from his right and his wrongs - Simon doesn’t see anything wrong with sitting idly on the stairs of an empty hallway, nose in the dusty pages.

It’s his retreat. From the world, from his classmates, from home. Letting his blackened eyes skim over the words slowly, the worlds and wonders of sci-fi alien ships and snotty romances blurring his reality for only a few hours. Maybe it was a bit sad - he didn’t want to go out and kick the ball around for lunch, instead he wanted to draw his knees into his chest and read the rest of this Dickens paperback. Peace and quiet.

It’s not until a girlish, skittish voice echoes from the top of the stairs. Simon’s always been someone on high alert, having to live life on ‘fight or flight’ mode. His shoulders tense, head peering up, tightening his hold on the pages. A girl. Simon scrunched his nose up. Most of the girls in his class were annoyingly cheery or just painstakingly shy, but Simon was also aware nobody really wanted to be friends with the quiet boy with purple and blue-ish hues on his skin.

“‘M just gonn’a wash my hands!” The voice calls out to someone before they rush down the stairs, the tapping of their kickers hitting the concrete steps. Lisa Wright. Small, skinny little girl with knobbly knees and black unruly curls. Simon feels like a deer caught in headlights when her bright expression flickers to his. Lisa smiles, an unusually warm one that softens when her gaze flickers to the book in his palm. Instantly, he shuts it away, expression souring.

“Lads like you don’t read, Simon. Ye’ too fuckin’ thick.”

It hits him like a wave of nausea. His teachers didn’t care if he read, in fact they said he was reading at a higher level than most people, but he didn’t know Lisa. Small Lisa with her baby pink chipped nails and pain splattered clothes. Somehow messy but put together, like her parents cared enough to iron her clothes and kiss her to bed.

A week passes after their weird stare off, and she’s somehow always finding him - well, that was what Simon was in disbelief about, but the girl can’t help but giggle - “You’re always sat there!”

A few weeks pass, Lisa is stopping now. To talk to him. It’s stupid little questions, about their maths homework or about the cartoon character on his school bag, and Simon is left with his ears burning red at the tips. Lisa Wright was a kooky, crazed girl with no awareness whatsoever, and Simon was left wondering why he was starting to look forward to speaking to her.

“You still haven’t finished that book.” Lisa had said in a matter-of-fact tone, looking up from the plush carpet under them. Their English teacher had let Simon sleep on the rug for an hour before lesson. He knew the bruises were getting worse, he could feel a sharp shooting pain every time he nudged his back up, but when Lisa opens her mouth he’s found himself to be distracted. Like she sees past the black smudged under his eyes, the crinkled uniform, sullied skin.

“It’s long.” The young boy mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He sits up warily, eyes flittering to the book in her hands.

“What are you doing?” Simon freezes, heart jackhammering in his chest - he lunges forward and snatches the Dickens book out of her tan palms. It was his - his property, and she had been holding it all wrong -

“I just wanted to read it!”

“Then don’t break it.” He grumbled back, fingers tracing the binding.

“I didn’t.” Lisa insisted, her eyes rolling back dramatically. Simon knows if he had done the same thing at home, his parents wouldn’t have approved. Simon sighs, and points to the binding.

“You can’t hold it like that - you gotta be car’ful with the pages.”

Lisa copies his movements. She holds it gently, finger tips brushing against the pages. When he nods, much to her delight, she beams.

The next day Lisa was carrying a book.

“Look! I told my mum ‘an I wanted to read like you!” She bubbles, pointing at the cover when they’re situated on the carpet again. It’s hard for him to look up with the searing pain in his neck but he nods, cheeks flaring up. Roald Dahl book. James and the Giant Peach.

“I didn’t like that one.” Simon mutters, playing with the loose thread on his school trousers.

“Why?”

Simon shrugs, almost embarrassed. “‘S scary.”

When her eyes light up with amusement, lips drawing into a grin, Simon flushes again and grips the plush pillow beside him. Lisa is giggling a little. She was making fun of him. Of course she was. I mean, she was Lisa Wright, with her all her preppy little friends and colourful beads in her curls - why would she wanna be friends with someone like him? A good for nothing twat who’s scared of books. Simon tenses his jaw so hard he can hear it crack.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to be scared.”

Obviously, it takes him by surprise. He’s never been told that. Never really felt it either. But the next day, when school ends and he’s sat perched on the office waiting chairs, slumped with his school bag alone because mum had forgotten to pick him up again, he understood. He doesn’t have to be scared with Lisa.

Lisa and her mum pick him up instead. He’s sat bright red in the back of a white Corsa - feeling a little grubby to be in the plush seats - listening to Lisa beg and beg for him to stay. “Just for tea!” she says.

He didn’t have to be scared. Not when Lisa’s big dog jumped up at him and his arms go to protect him instinctively, because the girl is calming the canine down and coaxing him with a smile. He didn’t need to be afraid when Lisa’s mum bombards him with questions about his mum, or his scars - the girl is lying for him, telling her it was football.

“Is your mum nice?”

Simon looks up from the faded comic in his hands, fingertips stained from blueberry sherbet sweets. His mum used to be nice. She used to sing and dance clumsily to Just Dance, pulling Simon in to join her, peppering him with kisses when they’re done, sweaty and happy. But now all she did was sleep, and if it wasn’t that, it was yelling. At him. At anyone.

He was too young to understand at the time. She was absent from parents evenings, forgetting to pick him up, neglecting the house work. He missed his mum - the once bright and lively woman he could trust. Now, he can’t even run behind her legs when Dad was drunk.

“Sometimes.” Simon says quietly, the shame burning in his throat. Perhaps Lisa had realised, and he had to give her credit for being so perceptive. But he hated it. Simon didn’t need pity, he didn’t want it.

“Well, I think you’re really nice.”

“Don’t care.” He grits out. His ears redden.

A beat passes, and she’s tilting her big brown eyes up at him. Simon realises how similiar she is to her mum.

“Are you my boyfriend?”

“No!”

“Mum has one. His name is James. He taught me how to chop fire. But sometimes, they kiss ‘nd stuff.” Lisa’s button nose scrunched up and Simon feels himself becoming a beetroot.

“Well, I don’t wanna be yours!”

“Oh.” Lisa slumps her shoulders, almost looking a bit confused. Simon shouldn’t have come here. He blows out a breath of frustration, adjusting the blue collared shirt around him.

“Is it because I can’t read?”

Simon frowns. He’s not sure of Lisa is pulling his leg, but judging on her purely puzzled face, she seems to be genuine. “You.. can’t?”

Lisa nods. “Not like you can. ‘M too daft to read. The words go all weird.”

The cogs in Simon’s brain are cranking, her words igniting something familiar. He thrusts the comic towards her. “G’won, read that.”

“No!”

“What, you scared?” Simon sneers at her outraged expression. She’s rolling her eyes again, something she knew got on his nerves.

“You’re the one scared of a peach!”

His expression goes stony. Lisa narrows her eyes and glares at him before grabbing the comic harshly, brown eyes bobbing up and down the pages.

“Bhaat… man. Batman.” Lisa sounds out. Simon snorts.

“You’re really that bad?”

“Goooth.. Ghootam.. Goothum..”

—-

[ask-splat-agents]

Welcome, Agents!

Hello all! This is my side blog for my Splatoon AU, where you folks of Tumblr can ask the agents & idols questions! Main Blog: @abyss-is-lame Ask rules and info ↓

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CHARACTER INFO:

- Three (Atlas Incan): Demi-lesbian, She/They/Cryo, Demigirl, 17, Taken, Captain of the NSBS - Four (Zaki Oni): Bisexual, She/Order/It, Demigirl, 14, Taken, NSBS Agent + Parallel Canon - Seven (Apollo Mercury): AroAce, It/Test/Cleans, agender (fem appearance), 16, Rescued Sanitized Octoling, NSBS 'emotional support' - Eight (Estelle Octavia): Lesbian, She/Her/Ink, Female, 16, Taken, NSBS Agent - Neo (Kiran Anderson): Omnisexual, She/Fang/Sands, Female, 15, Taken, NSBS Agent - 33 (Nixon Incan): Biromantic Asexual, Splatter/He/Squid, Ghostboy, 18, Taken, Second In Command in the NSBS - 44 (Liam Oni): Pan & Poly, He/Zim/Zis, Demiboy, 15, Taken, NSBS Agent - 88 (Astro Octavia): Gay, He/Slick/They, Male, 16, Taken, NSBS Agent - Dedf1sh (Ahato 'Acht' Mizuta): Unlabeled, They/Musics/Songself, Enby, 23, Taken, NSBS Member

OTHER:

This is an AU! If you look at something and think 'thats not canon', it probably isn't. All art on this blog is made by ME! If it's not, credit to the original artist will be provided. Systems & Alters are free to interact!

[ynmnrmt]

You & Me & Rhea Makes Three: Chapter 3

rhea ripley x m!reader x m!reader's girlfriend

word count: 2,450

warnings: explicit sexual content

a/n: Warning! Contains enthusiastically consensual heterosexual sex between two people in a committed relationship. Reader discretion advised!

(The story so far: chapter one, chapter two)

Rhea holds the pot upside down over the sink to scrape at the rice that encrusts the inside from a different angle. "This would really piss me off," she says lightly, "but that was a fucking beautiful risotto."

"I love him for the sex," says Jennifer, as she dries off the plates, "but I'm going to marry him for the cooking."

"I am here," you say, and as you reach for the forks to put them away Jennifer rests her head lovingly on your shoulder for a moment. "If I said that about you they'd put me away."

"Alright, there's the ass, too," she shoots back, ribbing you physically, she presses up against you as much as she can while side to side. Rhea laughs at that.

"I think I'd love you for the cooking," muses Rhea fondly, distractedly, while she chisels a long curl of solid rice off the pan, "but marry you for the sex...alright, why would you marry Jen?" she asks you.

"Legs," you say instantly, which is not the real reason.

"But Rhea's are bigger than mine," whines Jennifer. "And stronger, too."

"So what? I still like them," you say, and favour her with a kiss, right on top of her head.

"I could be maid of honour," suggests Rhea, "although I could also be best man."

"I sort of pictured you as the officiant," says Jennifer, "because you'd tell us to kiss and then we'd do it, and, now I'm just thinking about you in a tux, I hope you're happy."

"I am," you supply, raising a hand with a cup still in it, and then you all laugh, and as you do Rhea flicks some soap suds at Jennifer, and they splatter on your hands too. Somehow the gentle rattle of the washing-up in the sink seems deeply nourishing to you.

Then Rhea’s phone rings, she wiggles one hand from its glove to answer it, and she says nothing, just listens. When she hangs up it is with a sudden look of disquiet. She turns back to you and Jennifer and says “I’m sorry, I have to be somewhere very soon and – could you guys oil me up before I go? I know this is really awkward, and-”

“No, no problem,” you hear yourself say.

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” adds Jennifer at practically the same time.

“Really? Aw, you guys are the best,” declares Rhea, and immediately pulls off the other glove before stripping off her shirt, and it turns out you were right, she wasn’t wearing a bra today. It’s only when Jennifer plops the tub of body oil down on the table that you realise you’ve been standing there, completely hypnotised by Rhea’s immaculate torso. She giggles at that – then shuffles out of her cargo pants and underwear, too. You want to be blasé and casual about this, you’ve seen it all before after all, but it’s just as exciting as it was that first time. But the faint lustful tremors in your muscles, the lingering arousal, that was all already there while you were washing up.

Jennifer takes a palmful of oil, and you do too, and you both approach Rhea in a pincer movement, coming in on both sides of her as if to surround her completely. And you do, eagerly greasing all the way around one powerful arm, one long sweep from her shoulder to her wrist – then you take your time about it, to make sure you didn’t miss anywhere, and, yes, to spend a bit more time touching her. By the time you pass her shoulder and get onto the taut musculature of her back you start to worry she’ll be late.

But it turns out that Jennifer’s lingering even longer over her task, because you’re the first to sink to one knee and start on Rhea’s legs, those thighs that seem to fit so naturally in your hands even though you can hardly take hold of them. Is it that, or is it that your hands crave the warmth of being against her fine inked skin? As you swish oil up the inside of her thigh, without meaning to, you brush her pussy and she yelps.

“Oh! Sorry, Rhea, I didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t mind,” she shrugs, that initial shock given way to her now-familiar warmth. “In fact,” and Jennifer looks between you and her, horror and lust rolled into one, “why don’t you do it a little more, and charge me up a bit? Give me something to look forward to? I did think that since you’ve been so nice oiling me up, maybe when I’m back you could oil me down as well.”

“Well, um,” Jennifer chokes, her fingers wavering on Rhea’s sculpted abs, “yeah, maybe that would be nice?”

So you give Rhea a brisk rub, pretend even to yourself you haven’t just pawed at her legs like you were trying to soften them up for dinner. You cannot bear to meet Jennifer’s eyes, even though she gave you the go-ahead. When her hands touch yours, to ease Rhea’s booty shorts over the lovely swell of her ass, you sigh with relief that this has not gone too far, that you have not revolted her with your own desire.

As you wrestle the buckles of Rhea’s bodice into place, you cannot quite avoid touching her some more. There is no clear delineation between the corded muscle of her pectorals and the softer tissue of her breasts, and you do not care. At least Jennifer is here next to you and clearly enjoying the process too.

“Thank you,” says Rhea, sweeter than should be possible for anyone wearing that much black leather. “I think this is my favourite part, when I’m all sparkly and shiny like this…” She wiggles slightly and Jennifer’s nails dig into your palm, you gasp, more from the thrill than the pain. Then Rhea’s phone jingles again and she swears incredibly loudly before she rushes out the door, promising as she does that she’ll be back soon and blowing you several kisses each.

Your gaze slides sideways to Jennifer – but you cannot meet her eyes, because she’s rested her head on your shoulder. “Well,” you attempt, “that was-”

“We ought to finish the washing-up,” she says quickly, and she’s probably right. But instead of moving back to the sink, she casually takes out another gob of oil. “Would you do me, too?”

“Yes!” It comes out like a confession, like a cry for help. As your slippery fingers undo the buttons of her blouse you find yourself gabbling “I’m glad you understand, I wouldn’t do it if you weren’t okay, I only want to make you happy,” and you splodge greasy stains onto the material of her bra.

“Do my legs, like,” Jennifer’s voice catches for a second, “like you did hers.”

“You don’t need to compare yourself to her,” you insist, back on your knees, undoing her zipper. “Rhea’s sexy, fine, I love you.” For all that you feel guilty about everything you’ve done with Rhea, when Jennifer’s pants come off there’s a darker stain down at the very tip of her underwear, it’s not as if you were the only one who enjoyed it. You blot it out with the oil as your hands ring around her thigh, this way you don’t have to think about it – and as you go up and down her leg you feather it with kisses, wanting to make it somehow more special for her.

*

You lie alone on the bed, and worry that this is how it will be when the other shoe drops, for there must be another shoe, somewhere, then Jennifer’s voice floats in through the door “Okay! Ready!”

So you cover your eyes, there’s her soft footsteps, and when you look again you gape, you nearly laugh, but that couldn’t possibly be appropriate. Jennifer’s posing there with her body wrapped up in spiked black leather that doesn’t come close to fitting properly, she’s wearing one of Rhea’s outfits.

“What do you think?”

“I think,” you say, rising from the bed to take her in your arms, “it looks even better on you.”

“Don’t lie,” she insists, and rests her head on your chest. The outfit pokes you a bit, now’s not the time to complain though, so you lay her carefully down on the bed. She pulls at your clothes, and you fumble with Rhea’s, not exactly sure how to get them off Jennifer or if they’re even the right way round.

While Jennifer’s far from naked, you can see a lot of her skin, and that excites you the same way as the first time, too. Perhaps that’s why your hands fumble, why this buckle is getting away from you. “Didn’t these have a zipper?” you ask, and have to reposition yourself to get the shorts past Jennifer’s knee. With them confined to only one ankle, you settle down again, but things keep going wrong – you accidentally trap a strand of her hair, and then as you’re still partway through the muffled apology she manages to poke you in an especially sensitive area.

“I want this to be good for you,” she protests limply, in such a way to break your heart a little, and, less pleasantly, put off your erection. “That’s why I wore this stuff, I wanted…”

“You didn’t need to,” you insist, trying to get some life back into it, “you are good for me,” and in tribute to that fact you kiss her, touch her in special places where you’ve shared many happy hours before, somehow it all seems wrong, as if it bounces off the black leather armour she’s inexplicably brought between you.

“Please fuck me hard,” she whispers, and with your blood flowing again, you do, you’ve found a position where you’re hardly being poked by the metal studs at all – a little poke about the entrance, she’s sopping wet, which is a relief, and then in with all your might. For a few strokes of steadily mounting pleasure it seems like it’s going well, Jennifer gives out her breathy squeaks of enjoyment – but then it turns into a squeal, her hand is on your chest, you back off instantly and in a wretched voice she says “Too hard.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, not sure how best to comfort in this situation, “I should have-”

“No, I’m sorry,” she shoots back immediately. “I said to go hard, and then – oh God, I’m sorry, I’m no good at this.”

“Hey, hey, come here,” and you hold her, firmly ignoring the twenty-seven different places the spikes have got you. “You don’t need to be sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, I just want...what if we tried this?” As she feels your mutual centre of gravity rotate, she giggles nervously but excitedly, and when she eventually winds up on top she does look a lot more cheerful. “This way, you can decide how hard we go.” And you try to ignore the valence of a woman in black leather riding you, perhaps you both would have arrived here anyway, without any kind of outside inspiration.

Jennifer takes hold of your cock and hovers about over it, trying to get everything lined up like she’s parking a car. Then she drops, and thank God, it goes straight in rather than taking her whole dead weight on top of it. It still knocks the wind out of you, but the noise of delight she makes, the way she convulses inside, you don’t really mind.

You grasp her hips, help her to bounce, your touch hungry for her skin and only slightly distracted by the feel of the black leather along the edge of your finger. This, you decide, is just for you, you and Jennifer, nobody else, and when Rhea returns that will be something completely different.

Before long she flops down over you, and there again the sting of the studded outfit, which in fairness to Rhea wasn’t really meant for a performance like this. You rub your cheek against Jennifer’s, too close for eye contact. She still wriggles about with the back half of her her body, around the immovable rod of your cock, and whimpers and moans out her response as she does.

Normally, you think, you would have come by now. You’d at least be in the region, but as Jennifer shifts up and down you find yourself just lying there like an inanimate object. She still excites you, of course she does, there is still the amazement that she’s letting you do this to her – so why does it not feel the way it used to?

Still wary of being too rough, of doing anything she might not like, you start to thrust as well. She trills like a bird, and breathily in your ear splutters out “Oh fuck – oh fuck – I want you to come, please come” before she degenerates into meaningless noises of relief while her pleasure spatters in droplets on your thighs and stomach.

You clutch her to you, the black leather warm in your hands over the little body inside it, and as one long gasp emanates from the depths of her throat there it is, the inescapable tipping point, she is pressed into the bedclothes but you see her face in your mind’s eye, and you see Rhea’s, too, the darkly made-up smile, the whole orgasm squirts up into Jennifer as for a second you waver between who exactly it is you’re fucking. She comes back into focus with the tail-end spasms of her own climax.

“I love you,” you tell her – too hastily, as if you have something to hide. Her mouth is wet on your neck, either the tenderest kiss or just a bit of dribble.

As you lie there, cooling on the bedclothes, Jennifer snuggles in very close to confess “I thought about Rhea, a little bit, not the whole time...I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay,” you say, thinking back on how this was meant to just be for you and her, so much for that. “I’m glad you think she’s sexy. It would make all this very awkward if you didn’t.”

“I really liked it, when we all went to the supermarket together the other day,” she drowses, no, not upset now, not that, “because it was sort of that thing, the thing of the everyday, with...I really want this to work for us.” You give her a little squeeze, and then a lot of a squeeze. “I mean, you want Rhea to be part of this relationship, don’t you? You’d like that, right?”

“Well, yes,” you begin.

“Then that’s good, then.”

[noxexistant]

Thinking about the implications of Oscar and Morris having been abandoned, but Race knows their father works for the trolley company. Oscar doesn't try to deny it so it's not exactly a secret, but I don't get the vibe it's something they'd openly talk about either.

oh my god i think about this ALL THE TIME

like, how did race know? why did race know? and why did he know to bring it up specifically to antagonise oscar?

it’s one of my more firm headcanons that “delancey” is not the brothers’ real last name, so that removes the obvious connection race (and the other newsies) could’ve made with a “[blank] delancey” working for the trolleys. so, consider:

race saw the brothers soaking the trolley workers.

he’s seen loitering around a lot in various scenes, notably reading one of his papes and smoking on a balcony when jack and davey are first selling together, and he runs when he sees snyder. i like to think this, y’know, means something, it’s something race intentionally does. he hangs around and sees what he can overhear, what he can see.

so, race is out late, skulking and loitering to get his first claim at the gossip mill - information’s valuable, if he finds anything good he’ll be able to sell it for papes or money or food or favours - and he hears the commotion from where the striking trolley workers are stationed. he knows better than to walk over on the street lest he get caught up in it, so he clambers up to a roof with a decent vantage point and watches, peeking over the edge.

there aren’t many trolley workers left still out this late, but there’s a group of them, and it’s all in utter chaos now as they wrangle with two smaller figures swinging at them like their lives depend on it. the delanceys. morris has a bat, race can see the glint of oscar’s brass knuckles occasionally catching the light. the blood on the street and alley walls catches the light too, though in the night it looks more black than red. like ink. splattering all their surroundings and the delanceys themselves.

they’re largely silent and efficient, dead cold like they usually are even when faced with the frantic hollering and shouting from the men they’re beating to the ground, but when they’ve all been subdued, oscar turns his attention to a man they’d apparently singled out. he’s been slumped on the floor most of the time the brothers were fighting the rest, but now he’s scrambling back, cornered against the wall by oscar. morris is hanging back.

“been a while, huh?” oscar says conversationally. race strains to hear, brows furrowing. “bet ‘m bigger’n you remember.”

the man says nothing. oscar grabs one of the dropped bats from the ground and strikes the wall beside the man’s head, so hard and rough the wood splinters against the brick.

“or you don’ remember? huh? you need me to let you know? who am i? who am i, pa?”

the man’s still silent. he tries to climb to his feet, but oscar kicks him hard in the chest and knocks him right back down, knocking a haggard wheeze out of him.

“i’m your goddamn son, you lousy son of a bitch! oscar, yeah? you named me. an’ then you didn’t do much else, ‘cept drink and holler and beat my little brother an’ fuckin’ leave!”

there’s a beat of silence.

“beat you too,” the man finally speaks, voice low and croaking. oscar hits him directly in the face, and even from the rooftop race can hear the crack of his nose breaking. morris staggers back, his bat falling to the ground with a wooden clatter, but he freezes entirely like an animal when the man’s gaze snaps to him with the noise.

“don’ you look at him!” oscar shouts, and hits the man again to get his attention back. “you look at me. i’m’onna make you proud, pa. show you everythin’ you ‘n ma taught me ‘bout the world.”

race feels nauseous. nauseous and fascinated. like watching a trolley accident, he can’t tear his gaze away. the man - the delanceys’ father - tries to fight back, but oscar fights dirty and don’t give him one chance. he beats him ‘til he can’t even lift himself up, and only then does he look over his shoulder.

“mo,” he says, breathless. rough, but also too gentle for the blood soaking him. “c’mere. your turn.”

morris shakes his head. oscar goes over to him then, like there ain’t a man laying half-dead, and their conversation’s too soft for race to hear but it seems to convince morris. they walk back to their father with their hands linked, and with his free hand oscar picks up the bat and hands it to morris’ empty palm.

“say hi to ‘im, mo.” oscar kicks the man in the chest again. “pa - ‘s’morris, see? alive an’ strong an’ worth more than you’ll ever be.”

“hi, papa,” morris says quietly. oscar squeezes his hand and releases it, then squeezes an arm briefly around morris’ shoulders too as he brings both hands to the bat and finds his grip.

“make ‘im sorry, mo. make ‘im regret it.”

morris raises the bat.

race leaves, but not quick enough to not hear that first hit.

[nocturnalghoul]

A short little Frankenghoul aside wherein Mountain finds a left behind relic of their past.

words: 594

Mountain quickly came to realize this was not something he was meant to find. He had recognized the script on the cover of the notebook as belonging to the proto-ghoul they all called Creature Feature and thought it was another part of their usual trades at first. Upon opening the notebook and seeing the frantically scribbled words he realized that whatever this was, it was deeply personal. 

I feel myself searching their faces for the marks of my kin but come up empty. Yes, we are from the same infernal source but I feel there is no such thing as anybody like me. I am not purely infernal, yet not of man either. I can feel the strings connecting us but they will never be enough

Ah, so it was a diary of sorts he thought to himself. He knew he should proceed no further but was unable to will himself to stop. As he carefully flipped the long since yellowed pages he couldn’t help but scan over the words scrawled upon them. There were many places where the ink had long since faded or pages torn in fits of rage but the overall image was still there. Mountain had always known them as a calm and collected ghoul, however strange, but this painted a completely different story. As he moved on the script became increasingly erratic, bits of ink splattering all over the page.

They will come to rue what they made me- 

- this shall not be my first taste of the tender flesh of man--removed my capacity for love so I must indulge in the anger and hatred

If they want to make me a beast then I shall act as one. 

A few ripped out pages 

-On this beautiful moon just like the night I was summoned I have ripped their beloved “Papa” away-

Oh but that sweet taste of retribution! I hope they never forget the image of white fangs and matted fur growing wet with blood. Let them paint portraits-

-semi-satiated boil of blood inside my mouth-

The remainder of the next few pages were illegible, having been stained long ago with copious amounts of blood. Mountain skipped ahead then, not wanting to ruin his mental picture of the kind intelligent ghoul he knew. Finally he found a section where the handwriting had calmed down close to the end of the book.

To mutilate not one but two ghouls, how could the Dark Prince let his followers do this? 

I have searched along all infernal connections I hold for close to a year and have come to the realization that this blasted Earth magic that has been forced upon me is all that remains of my love. 

He is no more, however he also is trapped within me. Must I not only be confined to this wretched form but left with only a shadow of the only one I care about? What sort of fate is that? Another reminder of how truly lonely a role I have been cast.

Mountain wanted to find more, but he could sense them approaching quickly through the woods. The soft internal anguished wolf’s howl that was layered underneath their entire psyche was growing louder and louder, likely as they panicked trying to find their forgotten memento. He placed the notebook back onto the rock he had found, leaving a few sprigs of lavender on top as a peace offering. I am sorry my kin, for all you have been bestowed -M he scrawled onto a scrap of paper before tucking it between the notebook and the flowers and leaving down the path back to the abbey.

[selkies-world]

Can someone with child experience DM me??? There's a scene I'm writing which features an 8 - 12 year old girl (her age is still being decided, but rn she's 11 & that works for every other aspect of the story) and she goes into a flashback of severe trauma, and I'm just not sure how to make it seem less forced / staged. I have 0 experience with children of any age group, especially not traumatised ones. All I know is theoretical.

There's a very edited version of the first attempt at the scene with a lot of details redacted below the cut. Following that, there's a very edited, bare-bones version of the second attempt at the scene with the same details redacted.

If you DM me, I can tell you about the details - I just don't want to post them here because they contain 2 major plot-reveals.

[Please keep in mind this is for a piece of original writing which will be getting published as a book, so please don't steal / copy these scenes for fics. I have no issue with you taking inspiration from them, but remember there is a distinct difference between taking inspiration & copying directly. Please don't make me regret posting this by making it into a copyright nightmare. Just be respectful.]

Characters:

K (11, f)

L (26, m)

F (28, m)

P (21 - genderfluid)

J (25, m)

S (23, f)

The set-up:

F is K's guardian, though doesn't have full custody. F, S, J & P have lived together for years & K is used to seeing them all as her family unit, though F is her primary care person, guardian & main parental figure. L is new, and the other adults trust him, he is close to F. K does not feel close to L, but she tolerates his presence because she knows the rest of her family like him. Up until this point, L has been left unsupervised with K twice, and nothing bad has happened, though it was for much shorter time periods and there was always someone else within shouting distance. In the days leading up to this scene, he has noticed her behaving slightly differently than what he's grown used to seeing from her, but he isn't close enough to her to know or guess why.

L has 0 child experience.

The first attempt at the scene:

P & J have already gone out for the day. F and S say they're going out so L prepares to leave, but K refuses to go. F asks L to babysit - F & S won't be out long, anyway. The most L will have to do is make sure K doesn't burn the house down if she makes pancakes. L agrees, figuring an 11 year old who low-key loathes him will generally stay up in her room anyway & he won't actually have to act as an authority or as supervision. F & S leave.

Later, L hears a crash & goes to investigate, then finds out it came from K's room. He knocks & pushes the door open, & sees her bedroom is completely trashed- her jigsaws are thrown around & the pieces are lying all over the floor and surfaces, soft toys are lying on the floor, books are ripped, dolls are decapitated and scribbled on, baby dolls have been thrown at the walls & some have cracked, the mirror is broken, clothes are strewn from the closet all over the floor, there's blood on the wall from where cut hands were after coming into contact with the broken glass. K is curled up between her bed & a cabinet & is crying silently / possibly sobbing.

L approaches slowly, and notices the dolls have been mutilated - arms have been snapped off, heads have been turned, faces have been suffocated, legs have been broken off with their elastics hanging out of the joints, clothes have been ruined, ink and paint and blood are splattered across them all.

L sits down near the cabinet & observes the room from K's perspective & realises she destroyed the room & her toys in an outburst. Eventually after trying to wait her out, L asks what K remembered - he is aware she has PTSD, but all the adults had said she didn't remember her trauma.

K makes a statement about the pinnacle of the traumatic event she went through.

Hearing it out loud triggers her into saying it again & again, until she's shouting it. She also begins to scratch and claw at her skin and her hair.

L reaches out & pulls her out of the space she'd fit herself between the bed & cabinet because he thinks he's helping by preventing her using the bed or cabinet as tools to hit herself against if her behaviour were to escalate. K proceeds to scream at full volume & starts hitting & kicking him. L lets go, K doesn't expect it & begins to fall because of the momentum. The angle would have her hitting her head on the cabinet. L reaches out again to steady her, and proceeds to get kicked in the stomach & bitten. He backs off entirely, and can only watch as K proceeds to scream & cry & hit / punch / claw herself.

[CUT]

K is entering the numb / nonresponsive part of her episode. She looks at all the destruction in her room & her broken toys & starts to sob as she shuts down.

L approaches her slowly, and says her name until she reacts. When she does, she says she didn't mean to break the toys, and says they'll never be fixed. L says they can fix them, and it'll be OK. K repeats his words and he confirms the statement. Then she registers that her hands are cut, and holds them up to him - her palms are cut from broken glass, there's shallow cuts of her faces from her own scratching / hitting, and there's blood smeared all over her. L says he can fix that too, and takes the barely-responsive K through to the bathroom to try and DIY some first aid (he knows animal / vetenary first aid but not human first aid). K shuts down entirely & is mute & limp as L patches her back together, & stares through him when he speaks to her to try to engage her.

[CUT]

By the time F & S return, K is passed out on her favourite armchair in the den & L is on the couch. K is hugging the 1 doll L was able to mend entirely for her, though it's still very clear it was broken. K is very visibly bandaged together. F asks wtf happened, L recounts the event. S gets a blanket for K, and F & L go out the back to discuss it all so that F doesn't have to try to control his reaction. After his initial reaction, F goes on to tell L about K's trauma.

To me, this felt very forced, and relied too heavily on K trusting L to put her back together, which seemed unlikely after her outburst, and the amount she has been openly hostile / cold towards him up until this point. It also seemed like a helluva lot for F to come home to & a lot for L to explain, especially without K backing his story up.

Cue version 2:

P & J already left & are expected to be out all day. F, S, L & K are in the living room, K is playing on the floor & partially watching cartoons, L is getting low-key absorbed into the kids cartoon on screen. F & S go out, and it's only supposed to be for an hour, so L agrees to stay with K, who says she doesn't want to go out. F & S leave.

A while later, the cartoon ends & a news show comes on. K complains & L looks for a different cartoon or kids channel. He puts on another cartoon show, and K doesn't protest. As the theme tune starts, L sees K starting to mime / hum along to the lyrics & assumes she's enjoying it. He then notices her beginning to act bizarrely towards the doll she's playing with. When he asks what she's doing, she ignores him & continues humming along to the tune. She keeps humming the tune on a loop even after the theme tune stops & the cartoon starts. L gets worried & notices that K seems to be in a trance. He asks her to stop what she's doing to the doll, which she doesn't hear. He tries to redirect her attention, which she doesn't hear.

Finally, he crouches down on the floor and shakes her shoulder to try and get her attention, since he's getting very disturbed by what she's doing to the doll. K freezes & goes silent, and pauses the behaviour. L praises her & returns to his place on the couch & lightly says for her to watch the TV, but he is still uncomfortable when he looks at the doll.

K stays frozen for a few moments as she watches the screen, before L notices her starting to tremble. He asks what's wrong, and realises she's crying. She keeps shaking & drops the doll. K is staring through space, and then begins to scratch & claw at her neck, gasping & sobbing about how she can't breathe. She's kicking at the space in front of her & struggling as if she's being restrained. L tries to get her to speak, but as he watches how she's moving & behaving, he realises it was the same thing she had the doll do repeatedly a few moments before.

L turns the TV off & tries to help K, but she keeps kicking & clawing & fighting herself / the air, so L relents & sits back, but keeps talking to K. L has now realised K is going through a reenactment of her trauma - which she had previously done to her doll. He was aware of her PTSD but not of the trauma itself, but as he witnesses her relive it, he can make a pretty good guess at it.

When K finishes the reenactment, she shuts down & looks at the doll. She's out of breath & has cut herself with her nails, but doesn't seem to register any of it. Instead, she looks at the doll & cries because she thinks she ruined it. L redirects her to the kitchen, and puts food in front of her, but K doesn't respond or eat or drink.

[CUT]

When F & S get back, F sees the doll (which has been left behind as accidental evidence) & realises what happened, since he has seen K go through this before, though she hasn't had an episode in ages. He finds L & K out the back, with L trying to get K to make daisy chains because he couldn't think what else to do, though it's more L failing at making the chain & K staring through it. F goes into Dad Mode & deals with K appropriately according to what's worked in the past for her PTSD episodes.

[CUT]

Later that night, K is passed out on the couch with her doll & a Teddy & a blanket, since she didn't want to leave F's side all evening & fell asleep after dinner & F didn't want to risk waking her up by trying to carry her up to her room. L & F are in the kitchen, & L asks about the episode. F goes on to tell L about K's trauma.

Again, this one seemed to rely too much on K agreeing to stay home with L, though it seemed like a better option as it included L witnessing her initial trigger (the theme tune of the cartoon, which had been playing in the background when she had experienced the trauma initially), her unconcious response (reenact it on the doll), L's redirection attempt (touch her shoulder), & K's conscious response (reenact the trauma on herself / re-experience the trauma as if it was the initial event).

But it still feels quite forced, even though I think it's closer to a realistic trauma response (if it was a car crash, for example, and there was 1 song playing on the radio when the impact happened, K screamed as the car rolled & was awake but trapped in the backseat while her parents died in front of her - then her trauma response would be triggered by hearing the song again, which would result in her randomly screaming for her parents & trying to struggle against a non-existent seatbelt.) That was my logic for trying to figure out how she would need the triggering stimuli (theme tune) to make the trauma response start. I feel like this part was missing in the first version of the scene.

Additional information:

K is trusted to go out by herself, is often left unsupervised & is trusted to go over to her friends' by herself & return by herself

Her friends are rarely (if ever) supervised when they play outside & she is trusted to be with them & not get harmed or in danger or in trouble

My questions are:

She was hostile towards L upon first meeting him, & continued to be so for their next few interactions, especially when he accidentally offended her by being (unknowingly) insensitive towards F in front of her. F admonished her for it & they struck a deal, where K tolerates L without being openly hostile towards him, but doesn't have to pretend to like him

None of the characters have access to a phone for the duration of this scene, so L can't just phone F & ask wtf to do

Her trauma is NOT CSA

Do 11 year old girls even play with toys / dolls? This part of the scene came in when I had her written as 8 - I increased her age to 11 for the sake of how much freedom she is granted outside of the house, but I'm not sure what the new, age appropriate things would be for her to be doing when she begins to reenact / re-experience the trauma.

How do trauma responses in children work? Or how do PTSD episodes manifest / appear in children?

What should L be doing here? He has 0 experience with children of any age, and has only coaxed his own peers through anxiety / panic attacks in the past

How would K be behaving during a flashback? Would she be attacking herself, or L, or both? How should L be responding to each of these behaviours?

In contrast, what should F do when he returns? He is experienced in her episodes & is aware of her trauma & has gotten her through this before & she trusts him. How would his response differ from L's?

How would F feel when he comes back & sees he missed K's first episode in ages? And how would he feel about the fact he had left L responsible for K during that episode?

Please either comment on this post / in the tags, or DM me.