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wholoveseggs · 3 months ago

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Dark Star {Part Three}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Three

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Klaus and Marcel hit a dead end searching for your killer. Until Cami offers a fresh perspective that could change everything. Kol uncovers a spell that might resurrect you, but the cost is steep. And centuries ago, under starlit skies, you surrender to a forbidden night with Elijah, binding your fate to his in ways that transcend time.

♡♡ It's finally time for some smuttt, ~ xoxo {Here is my playlist for the vibes} ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, first time, a bit of drinking, lots of religious talk, stargazing, so much sinning, Kol being Kol, Cami trying to help, a bonfire, dried fruit & magic mushrooms...

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss

It was almost the end of Cami's shift when Klaus and Marcel walked into Rousseau's, the former looking unusually grim. Cami was used to seeing them bickering and bantering, but the atmosphere between the two was tense and charged. They sat down at the far end of the bar, and Marcel leaned over, grabbing a bottle and two glasses, pouring the drinks with an air of forced casualness. Klaus sat with his shoulders slumped, a frown creasing his brow, his fingers tapping anxiously against the countertop.

"You have to pay for that," Cami pointed out, a teasing smile playing on her lips, her hands busy cleaning glasses.

Neither of them smiled back, their expressions serious, and the smile faded from her face. "Okay, what's going on?" she asked, setting the glass down and walking over, her gaze shifting between them.

Marcel hesitated, exchanging a glance with Klaus, before sighing. "It's about Elijah," he said finally, his voice low.

"How is he?" she asked, concern coloring her tone. He had been seeped in grief since your death, and it was hard to see him like that.

"Not well," Marcel replied, rubbing his temples.

Klaus’s hand wrapped around his drink, his knuckles turning white. "He won’t speak, eat, drink," he said, his voice rough, his anger barely contained. "All he does is sit by the window, staring into space."

"Can you blame him?" Cami asked softly, her expression mirroring the grief in her voice. You had been a light in the family, always finding ways to bring them together, and she missed you, too.

"No," Klaus growled, taking a large gulp of his drink. He set it down so hard that tiny cracks formed on the surface of the bar. "That’s why I have to find who did this."

Cami nodded, looking at Marcel. "Any leads?"

Marcel shook his head, an edge of frustration in his voice. "Nothing. All of my connections… they’re either too afraid to talk, or Elijah already found them first." He hesitated, then added, "Including every last member of the Strix."

Cami’s eyes widened, the full weight of the statement sinking in. "He killed… all of them?"

Marcel nodded. "Anyone he thought might be involved, he left dead. Half of them didn’t even know her name."

Klaus slammed his hand down on the counter, anger sparking again. "This is unacceptable," he hissed. "We have nothing but Elijah’s trail of bodies. It’s like the killer is a ghost… we don’t even have a description, not even a name."

"So… no witnesses, no surveillance," Cami muttered, trying to think.

"No magical trace, no scent," Klaus added, his voice filled with frustration.

Cami tapped her fingers against the bar, her brow furrowing as an idea formed in her mind. She braced herself, knowing Klaus wouldn't like it but deciding to speak up anyway. "What if… what if it wasn’t a member of the supernatural community?"

Klaus turned, his gaze darkening. "Cami… she died with a stake in her chest."

"So? I didn’t say they didn’t know about the supernatural, just that they might not be part of it," she countered, crossing her arms and meeting his gaze.

Klaus sighed, leaning back in his seat. "They broke her bones, Camille. All of them," he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "A human couldn’t do that."

"A group of humans could," Cami replied, her gaze flickering between the two vampires. Neither looked convinced.

"Why would humans target her?" Marcel asked, skepticism lacing his voice.

"Why not?" She shot back, her eyes narrowing. "You feed and kill a lot of humans, Marcel. Maybe someone got revenge."

Marcel flinched, a flash of guilt in his eyes.

Klaus’s jaw tensed, his fingers tightening around his glass. "But why her?" he said quietly, his voice low and strained. "Why not go after me, or one of the others?"

"Maybe because she was the weakest link," Cami said gently, hating how it sounded even as she spoke.

Marcel sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It’s… not a terrible theory, Cami. Especially if we’re dealing with someone who had something personal against her."

Klaus's gaze shifted, staring into the distance, his expression troubled. "We’re missing a piece of the puzzle. I just know it," he muttered, his voice distant.

"Well, there is another option," Cami said quietly, an idea flashing into her mind.

Klaus turned, his eyes meeting hers with a slight challenge in them. "And what would that be, love?"

"Go to the police?" she suggested, her voice firm despite the tension in the air.

"What?" Marcel and Klaus blurted out, identical expressions of confusion and shock on their faces. Klaus began to laugh, his entire body shaking with mirth. "You’re hilarious, Camille," he gasped, tears of laughter streaming down his face.

"No, no, I’m not joking," she retorted, her expression unflinching. "You could talk to the police, tell them that your sister-in-law was killed. You could offer a reward, get them to really investigate."

Klaus and Marcel exchanged glances, neither looking keen.

"And what can they find that we can’t?" Klaus asked, his expression souring.

"Forensic evidence," Cami said immediately. "Traces that can lead them to the killer."

"And then what? They go to prison?" Klaus chuckled, shaking his head.

"If they’re human, yes," Cami replied firmly, crossing her arms.

"And if it’s not a human? How will the police catch a vampire or a witch?" Klaus challenged, his brow arching in skepticism.

"They won’t," Cami admitted, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. "But it's worth a shot?”

Klaus shook his head, his tone brooking no argument. "Absolutely not."

"Niklaus…" Marcel began, his voice trailing off when he caught sight of the fury in Klaus’s gaze.

"The only thing the police will do is get in the way," Klaus said, his voice cold and final.

"In the way of what? You aren’t doing anything," Cami shot back, her own temper rising. "Sitting here drinking and wallowing isn’t going to find who killed her."

Klaus rose to his full height, his anger flaring, casting an intense shadow over the dim bar lighting.

"Woah, woah, relax," Marcel interjected, sensing a fight brewing. "We are not getting anywhere arguing."

Klaus sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You can try it your way, Camille. Go tell the cops," he muttered, waving his hand dismissively.

"And you can go do whatever it is you do," Cami shot back, grabbing her phone from her pocket and speed-dialing the number.

Klaus watched her walk away, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully, before turning to Marcel. "Have someone tail her. If she gets in over her head, intervene."

"What are you going to do?" Marcel asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

"Finish this bottle, then that one over there… and possibly that one," he said, gesturing toward the collection of bottles behind the bar.

Marcel sighed, lifting his glass and clinking it against Klaus’s. "You can count me in."

13th Century Europe

As soon as the sun began to set, you climbed out of your window, heart pounding as you crossed the convent grounds and took the path leading to the forest. Shadows stretched over the path, but you kept moving, quickening your pace to ease your nerves. You were going to meet Elijah, the thought filling you with both a heady thrill and a quiver of fear.

Ever since the day in the field, when he had kissed you, and you had kissed him back, everything had changed. He had begun attending church, sitting near the back during Mass, his dark eyes meeting yours, his gaze a gentle, knowing promise. After the service, he would linger, waiting until the others had left, stealing quiet moments with you, his hand brushing yours, his soft words dissolving your willpower. The guilt weighed on you, but the pleasure, the anticipation… it was overpowering.

Tonight was different. Tonight, you would meet away from prying eyes and listening ears, beyond the convent walls. The trees loomed before you, their branches dark and skeletal against the fading twilight. You took a shaky breath, then heard soft footsteps from behind. You turned to see Elijah stepping out from the shadows, his gaze warm and intense.

"I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind,” he murmured, his words wrapped in mischief.

“Maybe I should have,” you replied, a blush warming your cheeks.

He chuckled softly, the sound curling through you like smoke. “Shall we?” he asked, extending his hand. Without hesitation, you placed your hand in his, letting him lead you deeper into the forest. The last of the sun’s light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows over the earth.

The excitement fluttered in your chest, but as you glanced back toward the convent, doubt slipped in, and you resisted the urge to cross yourself. As the night deepened, you reached a small clearing where moonlight streamed through the branches, illuminating the grass in silvery light.

“This is beautiful,” you breathed, looking up at the stars. They seemed brighter than ever, as if they had appeared just for you.

He nodded, pulling a blanket from his bag and laying it on the ground. He sat down, patting the space beside him, his hand beckoning you.

You sank down next to him, the warmth of his body soothing, calming the flutter of anxiety within you.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his lips brushing your temple. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," you replied, letting out a long breath, the tension leaving your body.

"Good," he murmured, his fingers trailing along your arm.

You leaned into his touch, enjoying the feel of his skin against yours. "I can't believe we're doing this," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through you. "Doing what?"

"Sneaking out," you said, smiling shyly.

"There's no sin in two people spending time together," he said, his tone laced with amusement.

“But there is a reason we’re hiding,” you replied softly, thoughts of the convent creeping in. “If the villagers knew…if Mother Mathilde knew…”

“Then let them know,” he murmured, though his tone turned more serious. “Life’s blessings should not be squandered in fear. Sometimes, it’s worth the risk.”

You thought of the sermons, the warnings, the fear of losing God’s favor. Yet, as you looked into Elijah’s eyes, something inside you rebelled, a longing to believe that this closeness, this love, was a blessing.

You distracted your trembling hands by digging inside your bag, pulling out some dried fruit, cheese, some wine you borrowed from the church, and a special treat you'd been saving. Elijah chuckled as he watched you lay the food out, a grin on his face.

"What?" You asked, blushing.

"You brought all of this?" He replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," you said, the flush in your cheeks deepening.

Elijah took a piece of dried apple, chewing it thoughtfully. "What is that?" he teased, pointing at some dried mushroom caps.

"Special mushrooms," you replied, your heart pounding. "They make everything feel more...real,"

"Oh, really?" Elijah asked, a playful smile spreading across his face, "Show me,"

Your hand shook slightly as you took a piece, placing it on his tongue. He closed his mouth, the muscles in his jaw flexing, a hint of a smirk on his face.

You took another piece, placing it in your own mouth, the earthy taste filling your senses. You chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, a warm, tingling sensation spreading through your body.

"And the church allows this?" he asked.

You shook your head. "They would be furious if they knew,"

"So it's a sin to eat these?" He teased, popping another one in his mouth.

"I think it brings me closer to God," you said, smiling.

"Mmm," he chewed, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Perhaps."

"Well?" You asked, the suspense too much to bear.

He swallowed, his gaze meeting yours. "Interesting," he murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching.

You smiled, relieved that he seemed to like them. "Try the wine,"

He took the bottle, uncorking it and taking a long swig. "Not bad," he said, handing it back to you.

You took a drink, the sweetness coating your tongue, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your veins. The cold night air seemed to fade, replaced by a feeling of contentment.

You ate the rest of the food, the conversation flowing easily. You told him stories of the convent, the sisters, and your childhood. The world around you becoming a bit hazy, the trees moving with the wind, the moonlight casting a soft glow on the forest floor.

Elijah was a good listener, his eyes never leaving yours. He was charming and witty, his humor making you laugh, his presence making you feel safe.

As the night wore on, the wine and the mushrooms made you feel bolder, loosening your inhibitions. You were lying on the blanket, looking up at the stars, the night air cool against your skin. You curled up against him, feeling his warmth as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"Being with you, it feels right," you confessed, tracing patterns on his chest.

He hummed in agreement, his arm tightening around you.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of closeness, the sense of connection. It was a feeling unlike any other, one that filled you with a deep contentment, a peace you had never known before. You had searched for this feeling in God for so long, but it was Elijah who had given it to you.

"Do you see that?" he asked, pointing at a cluster of stars. "It's the great bear, it holds the brightest star in the sky,"

You smiled, watching the constellation, the stars seeming to dance across the sky. "Tell me more," you said, nestling closer.

"It’s a protector, a guardian watching over us.” His gaze lingered on the constellation, his expression distant.

You watched him, captivated by his words, by the passion in his voice.

"I used to look at the stars when I was a boy," he said, his voice soft. "My mother taught me their names, and their stories. I would sit with her for hours, listening as she told me tales of gods and heroes, of quests and battles."

"How very pagan of you," you teased.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I suppose so," he mused.

You glanced up at him, seeing a hint of sorrow in his eyes. "Where is she now?"

"Dead," he said simply, his gaze fixed on the sky.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, a wave of sadness washing over you.

"It was a long time ago," he replied, his tone detached.

You sat in silence for a moment, the air heavy with sadness and regret. You had no family, none that you remembered, that pain had been dulled by the passing years. But his felt raw, still fresh.

He looked at you, a sad smile on his face. "I didn't come here to burden you with my sorrows,"

"It's not a burden," you protested, shifting to meet his gaze.

He smiled, the sadness fading. "Perhaps not," he murmured.

You began to shiver as the night grew colder, the thin fabric of your habit doing little to protect you from the elements. Elijah noticed, pulling off his cloak and draping it over your shoulders. The warmth of his body lingered on the fabric, his scent enveloping you.

"I'll build a fire," he said, rising to his feet.

You watched as he gathered the materials, his movements quick and efficient. You marveled at his skill, the ease with which he created the flame, the flames dancing across the dry leaves.

"Aren't you afraid someone will see?" You asked, worried about the smoke and the light.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No," he replied, settling down beside you.

You felt the warmth of the flames, the cold night air forgotten. You looked up, seeing the stars again, the constellations shimmering above.

"I wonder what the stars are made of," you mused, staring up at the vast expanse of the night sky.

"Hmm, perhaps the same things as we are," he said softly.

"Flesh and blood and bone?"

"Yes, and water and air,"

You nodded, a thoughtful expression on your face. "Do you think God is a star?"

He laughed, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. "Perhaps, it's a pleasant thought, isn't it?"

"Mmm, to think of him looking down on us, guiding us," you sighed, a contented smile on your face.

Elijah smiled, a melancholy look in his eyes. "That would be a nice thought indeed."

The two of you lapsed into silence, the fire crackling, the air thick with the scent of wood smoke. You sat curled up together, watching the stars and enjoying the night.

"Will you tell me a story?" You asked, glancing up at him.

He smiled, a look of surprise on his face. "A story?"

"Yes, like the ones you used to hear, about the star gods," you pressed, eager to learn more about him.

He chuckled and got to his feet, walking over to the fire and stoking it, sending sparks dancing into the night.

"There once was a great goddess, with many mortal children, who she loved with all her heart. But one day, one of her mortal children died at the hands of a beast, and the goddess was filled with grief. She set out to avenge her child, and in her grief she created a weapon, a blade that could cut through the very fabric of the universe."

You watched him, enthralled by his voice, by the story he was telling.

"With this blade she wanted to protect her children, but instead, she ended up dooming them. The goddess stole her children from death and sold them to time, who is far less merciful,"

He paused, his eyes glimmering with emotion.

"Now those children walk the earth, forever tormented by the knowledge that they will never die, and by the guilt of having brought so much suffering into the world."

You sat in silence for a while, the fire casting shadows on the trees, the only sound the crackling of the flames. You thought about his story, the weight of immortality, the price of defying death.

"Does it frighten you, the thought of an endless existence?" He asked, his gaze locking with yours.

"Yes," you admitted, feeling a shiver run down your spine.

"It frightens me too," he said, a grim smile on his face.

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in.

"I've never heard a story like that before," you said finally, your voice barely a whisper.

He gave you a faint smile. "It's an old legend, from my homeland,"

"What happened to the goddess? Is she still out there, somewhere?" You asked, curious.

He sighed, a faraway look in his eyes. "She was banished, forced to watch the earth from an empty place, an eternity of loneliness. Despair her punishment."

"That's awful," you murmured, feeling a sense of sadness wash over you.

"That's the fate of anyone who defies death," he said, his voice low and solemn.

You reached out your hand, beckoning him closer, the distance between you unbearable. He sat back down on the blanket and wrapped his arms around you, the warmth of his body soothing, the feel of his breath on your cheek comforting. You looked into his eyes, the dark, mysterious depths drawing you in, the flames flickering.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured, his fingers caressing your cheek. "Death will never touch you,"

"That isn't what I'm afraid of," you confessed, a blush creeping into your cheeks. "It's the idea of a life without you that scares me."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Then we'll just have to make sure that never happens."

You laughed, the sound a mixture of joy and relief. Then you pulled him closer, your lips meeting in a tender kiss, the firelight casting shadows on the trees, the wind rustling the leaves.

You lost track of time, lost in the moment, in the taste of his lips, the warmth of his embrace. It felt like a dream, the flickering flames, the gentle breeze, the stars twinkling above. But it was real, and in that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you were supposed to be. And what you wanted was pleasure.

"Touch me," you whispered, pressing your body against his.

"What would God say?" he murmured, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Let's find out," you breathed, kissing him again, the fire burning hotter, the night growing darker.

He pushed you gently onto your back, the blanket soft beneath you, the bright night sky above. His lips trailed down your neck, his fingers slipping beneath your habit, teasing the skin of your thighs. You arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips, desire pooling in your core.

He pulled away, his gaze burning into yours. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," you gasped, desperate for him, for his touch, for the release only he could give you.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, his voice strained, the desire clear in his eyes.

"You won't," you promised, tugging at the laces of his tunic, aching to feel his skin against yours.

"But you are an innocent," he murmured, a gentle smile on his lips. "I do not wish for you to regret this, not with me."

You cupped his cheek,"I will never regret being with you," you whispered, your thumb caressing his lower lip. "Never,"

He gazed at you for a moment, then bent down, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. Then he pulled back, removing his tunic, his body bathed in moonlight. Your breath caught in your throat and you reached out, running your hands over his chest, his skin smooth and warm.

He tugged at the hem of your habit, his gaze locking with yours. "May I?"

"Yes," you whispered, lifting your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head, exposing your bare skin to the cool night air.

He tossed the garment aside, his eyes roaming over your body, a hungry expression on his face. "You are so beautiful,"

"So are you," you replied, drinking in the sight of him, the lean muscle of his torso, the planes of his chest, the strength in his arms.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his hand trailing down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He slipped his fingers inside your undergarments, finding your most sensitive place, his touch setting every nerve alight.

Why must sin feel so good? Did God give us this chance to feel pleasure just so we could resist temptation, or did He create our bodies so we could enjoy it? This felt like the latter, the way your body was reacting, the pleasure building with each stroke of his finger.

You moaned, clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. He pulled away, his breathing ragged, his eyes filled with desire. "Are you certain?"

"Yes," you whispered, pressing against him, craving his touch, his closeness.

"Very well," he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, the look on his face making your heart race.

He shifted, sliding his hand down your body, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your undergarments, pulling them slowly down your legs. You blushed, the realization that you were naked in front of him, the vulnerability causing your heart to hammer in your chest.

He placed his hand on your inner thigh, his fingers parting the damp curls, his thumb circling your swollen nub, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you, the feeling unlike anything you'd experienced before.

You gasped, clutching at the blanket, the feelings he was creating within you overwhelming, your body responding in ways you didn't know possible.

He teased you, his touch light and deliberate, his fingers stroking and exploring, learning what gave you pleasure, what made you moan, what made your hips buck. He kissed his way down your body, his tongue flicking against the hard peak of your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, his mouth hot and wet.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, your need for him desperate. He kissed his way lower, his tongue tracing the curve of your belly, the sharp jut of your hip bone, his hands gripping your thighs, parting them, exposing you completely. You gasped, the realization of what he was going to do was shocking, thrilling, shameful, and yet so, so right.

He dipped his head, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his stubble tickling, the sensation making you gasp. He glanced up, his eyes locking with yours, a smirk on his lips. Then he lowered his head, his tongue finding the hidden place that ached for his touch, his fingers stroking, teasing, building the pleasure within you until it was almost unbearable.

Your hips bucked, your breath coming in gasps, his name tumbling from your lips, the word a plea, a prayer. His tongue licking and stroking, tasting and exploring, the sensation pushing you higher, the pressure building until it was too much, until you could no longer hold back, and you cried out, the waves of pleasure crashing over you, your body shuddering.

No, this wasn't sinning, this was heaven, and when you fell, it was his name you cried out.

He moved, his lips meeting yours, his body settling over yours, the hard length of his manhood pressing against your thigh, the feeling strange, yet exciting. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him hungrily, the taste of him sweet and intoxicating. He broke the kiss, cradling your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours.

"Ready?"

"Yes," you whispered, desire coiling within you.

He kissed you again, his tongue tangling with yours, the heat of his body enveloping you. He positioned himself, the tip of his manhood teasing your entrance, the feeling foreign and thrilling. He groaned, the sound muffled against your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he pushed forward, the sensation a mixture of pain and pleasure.

You clung to him, burying your face against his shoulder, the fullness, the feeling of him stretching you, the pain slowly ebbing away, replaced by a different kind of ache, a desire to have him deeper, harder. He smiled down at you, his eyes filled with love, the look making your heart swell. He began to move his hips slowly, as he held you close, his arms wrapped around you.

You gasped, the sensation exquisite, every sermon about pleasures of the flesh were erased by the reality of it. The church had gotten it wrong, It wasn't about fleeting pleasures, like indulging in too much honey cake. It was about connection, the joining of two souls, the sharing of love and passion.

He held you like a precious thing, his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. You arched into him, matching his movements as he whispered your name, his voice hoarse and strained, his hands gripping your hips, his movements growing more frantic, his thrusts deeper, harder.

The stars above seemed to burn brighter, the fire flickered, and the forest became alive with the sound of night creatures and the rustle of leaves. The pressure within you built, the sensations becoming overwhelming, the tension almost unbearable.

You cried out, your body trembling as you reached your peak, the waves of pleasure coursing through you. He groaned, his body tensing, his fingers digging into your skin as he followed you, the world seeming to stand still, the night air thick with the scent of smoke, of earth, and the sweetness of pleasure.

The world came rushing back, and he rolled onto his side, pulling you close, his lips brushing against yours. You lay together, your bodies entwined, the sound of your heartbeat the only thing you could hear.

"I have never felt such happiness," you whispered, a smile on your face.

He chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest, the sensation pleasant. "I'm glad I did not disappoint,"

You giggled, shaking your head. "You could never,"

"You are too kind," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You sighed, contentment washing over you. You gazed up at the stars, the vast expanse of the night sky making you feel small, but protected, sheltered in his arms. It was as if the entire universe had been created just for the two of you, as if nothing else mattered but this moment, the feeling of peace and contentment.

"You know," he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. "I think we can stay here for a while,"

"That sounds nice," you replied, nuzzling against his chest, the smell of his skin, the warmth of his body comforting.

He hummed in agreement, his hand stroking your back, the sensation soothing, the night air cool on your bare skin. The fire began to die down, and he rose to tend to it, the flames casting shadows across his body, the sight mesmerizing.

"It is strange," you said, propping yourself up on your elbow, watching him. "I never knew I could feel this way, so happy and peaceful,"

"Life is like that," he said, a thoughtful look on his face. "We often do not know what is waiting for us, but the path we follow leads to places we could never have imagined,"

You stood, grabbing the bottle of wine and walking over to him, your legs were trembling slightly and you tripped, falling into his arms, the red wine spilling over the both of you.

"Oh," you exclaimed, a blush creeping into your cheeks, his bare chest sticky with the sweet wine.

He chuckled, steadying you, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"I see that the mushrooms are having an effect,"

"Is it that obvious?" you asked, blushing, the blush deepening when he laughed.

"I believe the drink is helping as well,"

You looked up at him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his hair messy, his skin flushed.

"I suppose so,"

You handed him the bottle, his gaze holding yours as he drank, the wine dribbling down his chin. You stared, mesmerized, the sight igniting a fire within you. You took his hand, pulling him closer, tasting the sweet liquid from his lips, the wine mingling with the taste of him. Then you pulled away as a strange thrill sparked within you, and you began to skip around the fire, laughing, your hair flying wildly, the stars seeming to twinkle brighter.

He laughed, his voice echoing through the night air, the sound making your heart race. He caught you in his arms, lifting you off the ground, twirling you around, the flames dancing around you, the night sky a canopy above, the fireflies sparkling in the darkness. You felt so wild and free, and you wanted to dance with him forever, to stay lost in the moment, the night a dream, the stars a song.

"You make me so happy,"

He gazed at you, his eyes filled with emotion, his expression tender. "As you make me, my love,"

You paused at his words, the weight of them sinking in, the realization that he truly loved you, that he felt the same way about you as you did about him.

"Elijah, I- I," you stammered, the words failing you.

"It's alright," he murmured, his lips grazing yours, his touch soft and gentle.

"I've never felt this way about anyone, I-" you gasped, the feelings too big for your words.

He smiled, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of closeness, of being wrapped in Elijah’s arms. But the reality of what you had just done, what you had been doing for weeks, began to sink in, bringing a wave of dread beneath the warmth.

“I’ve never known a life outside the convent,” you murmured, tracing delicate patterns on his skin, feeling the quiet pull of guilt. The convent’s walls, the endless rules, and the silent prayers suddenly felt a world away, and yet their shadow lingered.

“But now you have,” he whispered, his hand moving softly through your hair.

“What will become of me?” you asked, a tremor of fear slipping into your voice as you looked up at him. You thought of Mother Mathilde, of the church and their harsh lessons on purity and sin. The thought of facing them now, of explaining what you had done, made your heart pound with a quiet panic.

Elijah’s eyes softened, and a slight smile touched his lips. “We’ll go wherever the stars take us,” he promised. “The world is waiting for us.”

You bit your lip, a mixture of fear and excitement blooming inside you. The idea of leaving, of stepping beyond the safety of the convent walls, thrilled you in ways you could barely understand.

“Do you swear it?” you whispered, the question catching in your throat.

He pressed his forehead to yours, his gaze never wavering. “I swear it,” he said, his voice full of conviction.

"I love you," you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips.

He smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "And I love you, more than the stars and the sky,"

You closed your eyes, resting against him, feeling a warmth unlike any other. Yet, as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, a quiet fear lingered. The convent, the rules, the life you had always known... They weren’t gone. They waited for you.

You had defied God, broken every rule. And you would face the consequences.

The question was, when.

Freya entered the courtyard, carrying a cup of blood, and found Rebekah already seated beside Elijah, her hand resting gently on his arm as he sat in silence. Rebekah’s gaze was fixed on her brother, her eyes full of worry, unwilling to leave him alone in his grief. Elijah didn’t seem to notice her presence, his eyes distant and hollow, fixed somewhere beyond the walls around them.

Freya approached, giving her sister a small nod before placing the cup beside Elijah. He didn’t move to take it, but his eyes flickered, betraying a glimmer of longing. His skin was ashen, his hair unkempt, and his clothes were crumpled and torn. It was a painful sight for Freya and Rebekah, both of whom knew him as the ever-composed, dignified brother.

“You should feed,” Freya urged softly. “I’ve added some herbs that might help.”

“I am not hungry,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Rebekah squeezed his arm gently, glancing up at Freya with a look that conveyed her own helplessness. “She wouldn’t want this for you, Elijah,” she said quietly, her voice full of tenderness and sorrow.

Elijah’s gaze shifted slightly, the grief in his eyes so profound that Rebekah felt it cut through her as sharply as a blade. “Don’t,” he said, his tone hard, as if even hearing your name spoken aloud was more than he could bear.

Freya and Rebekah exchanged a silent understanding, both realizing that Elijah’s pain was too raw, too deep to be soothed. The three of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of loss hanging thickly in the air.

“What did Klaus and Marcel find?” Elijah asked at last, his voice cracking, though he tried to keep it steady.

“Nothing so far,” Freya answered. “Not a lot of people left to question after-”

“After you dismembered most of the suspect pool,” Kol chimed in from the balcony above, his tone light, a mischievous grin on his face.

Elijah’s gaze sharpened, fixing on Kol with a coldness that might have made anyone else falter. Kol only smirked, strolling down the stairs to join them.

“You’re no help,” Freya hissed, irritated.

Kol grabbed the cup of blood and swirled it lazily, shrugging. “Not in your little murder investigation, no… But I do have something rather interesting to share.”

Elijah’s gaze flickered, the faintest trace of curiosity surfacing. “And what would that be?”

Rebekah looked up at Kol, her wariness evident. “What is this about?” she asked, her tone guarded.

“A spell,” Kol replied, setting the cup down and glancing between them, an almost devilish glint in his eyes. “A very old spell.”

Freya’s eyes narrowed. “Kol…” she warned, sensing where this was leading.

“A way to bring her back,” Kol said, his gaze drifting to Elijah.

Elijah sat up straighter, his expression a mix of disbelief and restrained hope. “Explain,” he demanded, his voice hard.

Kol’s smirk softened, his tone turning serious. “It's a spell that can bind two souls together, to form a connection that transcends death itself. A bond that can be used to pull a soul back into its original body, no matter how long they've been apart, no matter how many miles have stretched between them, or how deeply the grave has claimed them."

Elijah was on his feet, his eyes wild with a mixture of desperate hope and anger. "Why did you not come forward sooner?" he snarled, advancing toward Kol.

"Because I only just found the damn thing," Kol replied, not backing down. "It took months to translate the Latin, longer to decipher the incantation, and then I had to identify the ingredients."

Freya’s eyes narrowed. "Ingredients?" she asked, suspicion clear in her tone.

"Some of them are... difficult to come by," Kol said carefully. "And they require a rather unique skill set."

"Get to the point," Rebekah interjected, her gaze as cold and unyielding as Elijah’s.

Kol’s eyes flickered with a hint of challenge as he explained, "The spell requires a witch descended from a long and powerful bloodline. As well as a blood sacrifice, lots of blood."

"Human?" Freya asked, her expression hard.

Kol’s smile returned, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Oh, witch would suffice, or vampire."

"And this witch from a powerful bloodline? I’m guessing Freya can’t perform the spell," Rebekah said, her gaze sharp.

"You guess correctly, sister dear," Kol replied, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You’ve got a solution, and I’m not part of it?" Freya cut in, her tone incredulous.

"I wouldn’t dream of it, sister; we’ll need you. But this spell calls for more power than any single witch can provide," Kol explained, his gaze shifting between his siblings.

"Who do you have in mind?" Rebekah asked, her tone laced with suspicion. "Davina?"

“Absolutely not. My girl’s not getting involved in this,” Kol said firmly, his gaze hardening.

"Who then?" Rebekah pressed.

Kol’s grin returned. "Miss Bonnie Bennett, remember her? Lovely witch, very powerful, and quite capable of casting the spell."

"The Bennett witch?" Elijah echoed, skepticism in his voice.

"The very same," Kol said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "The problem is, we aren’t exactly on friendly terms. She won’t be eager to help us."

"What other ingredients do you need?" Elijah asked, his eyes boring into Kol.

"That's the tricky part," Kol sighed. "To pull her soul back, we need someone connected to her, someone who cares deeply for her."

"And?" Rebekah urged, sensing there was more.

“We need their heart,” Kol finished, his gaze flicking to Elijah. “The spell requires the heart of the person who loves her most.”

Silence fell as Elijah absorbed Kol’s words, his expression unreadable. His jaw clenched, the weight of the sacrifice sinking in, but he held Kol’s gaze steady. When he spoke, his voice was low and unwavering. "How soon can you get the Bennett witch here?"

"I'll go to Mystic Falls myself and fetch her," Kol replied, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"I'm coming with you," Rebekah said firmly.

"No," Kol shot back, his tone suddenly sharp.

Rebekah’s eyes flashed as she fixed him with an unwavering glare. "Why not?"

"You need to stay here, to take care of him,” Kol replied, gesturing toward Elijah. “We can't afford him going rogue again."

"I'm fine," Elijah snapped, his gaze hard.

"Sure you are," Kol quipped, a wry smile playing on his lips.

“Kol,” Freya cut in, her voice laced with warning.

"I won't be gone long, a few days at most," Kol said, looking between them.

Elijah’s jaw tightened, a flicker of conflict in his eyes. "Very well," he conceded, his tone resigned.

"Splendid," Kol said, his smile returning. "I'll leave immediately. I can make the flight tonight."

"I'm still coming with you," Rebekah insisted, her gaze locked on Kol.

Kol rolled his eyes, then relented. "Fine. Let's go,"

Rebekah nodded, rising to her feet. She placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder, her gaze softening as she held his eyes a moment longer than necessary. “We’ll get her back, okay? No matter what.”

Elijah’s expression remained impassive, but when his gaze met hers, Rebekah saw a glimmer of hope… a faint belief that maybe, just maybe, you would return to him.

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

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rise-my-angel · 1 year ago

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Jon Snow and Robb Stark

Pairings: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 17.5k

Warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, discussions of various kinks, mentions of past sexual assault and trauma, talk of pregnancy, hard dom/soft dom/sub dynamics explored, bdsm related content

Notes: The dynamics are based off of pairings from my series Heart of the Great Wolf, but can be read on it's own for the most part. Broad strokes for it being read without my fic series context: the relationship timeline was the reader secretly seeing Jon pre start of show/books, then married to Robb in an arranged marriage during the Kings visit to Winterfell, and then back with Jon post his resurrection hence why his sections are split into two parts. Might contain some spoilers for part 3 and a bit of part 4, for my fic in some places.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

You two had never gotten far that normal aftercare was ever needed. Jon might be teasing, but he was gentle and slow, and that went right through start to finish.

Sometimes, all you had was the alone silence of the middle of the night, and whatever you two had tentatively done with one another always ended with a struggle to let the other go. Jon simply didn't have time or the freedom to take care of you after making you cum. Even when it was something more simple, kissing the other on his bed, his back against the wall and you perched in his lap, as the closest you got as a grind against his covered cock. Jon would kiss you gentle once on the lips another to your forehead as he held you tight until he was sure you were alright to be on your own.

The last thing he wanted was to send you off to your own chambers, feeling as if Jon had just mindlessly kicked you out.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

There is very little Jon takes more seriously then caring for you after sex. He knows exactly what he is, intense and overwhelming, and he knows he is rougher with you then he sometimes realizes in the moment.

As soon as you both settle from your peaks, Jon will pull you quick into his arms. Some nights he will keep you on his lap, tucking your face into his neck as he runs a hand over your hair and the other gentle along your back and waist, until he feels your breathing return to normal. Or Jon moves to lay you out, normally somewhat on your side so he can turn to face you, tucking you into his chest. His own face buries in your hair as his voice is low and rasping, soothing words to you of comfort. Praises of how well you did as he tries to convince himself to be gentle if he kisses you.

Jon will always ensure you feel safe, and loved before anything else, and he will keep running his hands gently on your skin and murmur comforts in your ear until he feels you fall asleep. Even then, he normally continues to stay awake, watching you until he finally feels his eyes beg for sleep of his own. The rougher he takes you, the more gentle and soothing Jons touch and words are after as he coaxes you back for him.

Robb Stark:

Robb is fully aware of how hard he goes with you. You have minimal experience outside of him, and he brought you into this sort of thing with rough thrusts and a dominating nature. But it also means he knows how much he needs to make up for that when it's all over.

He will check up on you, ask if he went too far or if you didn't enjoy something and the next time he pays close attention to how far you've dropped and when. Which with him, is often. But Robb switches when it's all over, and the second he looks at you, all he sees is the love of his life and he wants to bring you calmly back to him. He'll hold you, speak soothingly to you with tender touches along your skin and many times he tries to get you to talk. The more you talk, the more clear your head is, and if he can make you laugh then Robb knows you're alright.

Much of the time, you often end up falling asleep together in the same position your aftercare was spent. Robb usually on his back, his arms wrapped around you as he tucks you into his side and your head drapes comfortingly on his chest. For all his talk, Robb loves nothing more then to just lay in bed and cuddle with you when you're done, and he adores that you are just as needy for a loving touch.

If anything, aftercare that Robb needs from you, is to just let him hold you and keep you tucked into his arms as much as you need his touch to calm you down as well.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you were to ask Robb, his brother would joke that it's his hair he likes best about himself. But in truth, Jon never really thought much of it in that way. Of himself. He looked how he looked, and he didn't really care about much of it.

Robb was more handsome and Jon didn't really care what girls thought of how he looked because as long as you liked how he looked, that's all that mattered.

On you? Jon had two answers, if it were blatantly sexual Jon would say your breasts. Soft, seemed to be made to fit perfectly in his hands and you were sensitive as all hell, that simple touches could work you up in an instant.

Not sexually though, it would be your smile. Not just any, but that soft, gentle one you'd give him when no one else was looking, beacuse you just wanted him to know you were paying attention to him no matter what. You were so stone faced all the time, but whenever you'd give Jon that smile? It could make the worst of his days better in an instant.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Easily that would be his hands. He did much with them and despite the amount of which was death and bloodshed, Jon knew he never did it beacuse he liked it. Jons hands were to him, a reminder of the man he had become, someone who at their core, was a protector. Of you, of the innocent, fighting for what was right when no one else would make the sacrifice.

But they also were the same hands that calmed you down. Your worst moments, trapped still somewhere in a hell of Ramsay Boltons making, they were the same hands that would cup your cheeks, run along your soft skin until you looked at him with those eyes.

Eyes that were something he could never get enough of. Soft and wide, you held so much more emotion in them now then you ever did before, and Jon adored it. You almost couldn't hide from Jon as long as he could find your eyes, and read whatever was in your head in seconds. They were beautiful to him, and they were the same eyes he kept dreaming that your children together would have, and that made them the thing he adored the most.

That, and Jon knew he had a tendency to make you look him right in the eyes when he was inside you, and he was weak to how needing they always looked when you did.

Robb Stark:

Robb easily loves his hands. How since you've been married, since you escaped Kings Landing and came back to him, all hes wanted to do is use those same hands to protect you. It's easy to tell, Robb almost always has a hand on you if he's near and it's heavily rooted in how he knows your safe and he can protect you, if he feels you right beside him.

He also knows how much of a mess he makes of you with them in so many ways. Those hand go quickly from innocent and protective all the way to perverse in seconds. And he knows exactly where to put them to make you melt to him.

On you, his favourite more innocent part of your body is your hips. They're perfect to him, shaped just right to the way he can so easily imagine you with his child right in your arms, a son perched near your hip as even then, you still speak to his lords and knights with command. He has a hand on them a lot, likes to move you with hands on your hips, they're just soft and perfect for him.

More on the filthy side, Robb fully can admit he is utterly obsessed with your ass. He knows it, you know it, there's no question. He wants you in pants all the time just beacuse of how well they shape your ass, the harder he smacks them the more he watches your cheeks jiggle and he gets worked up aggressively when he can see the red outline of his hand print after he's slapped and groped your ass as much as he can get away with.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Call it insecurity, but Jon almost didn't want his end to be part of the equation with you. If he could make love to you and not have to worry about that, he'd have been ready a long time ago.

To him, sure it felt good, but when he was with you he was always plagued in the back of his mind. Getting you pregnant was truthfully his biggest fear, and so he spent a lot of time learning what felt best for you when he touched you, and not wanting to let you do much back. Jon loved learning what made you cum, but he was almost strict in not really letting you reciprocate. He liked making you feel good, and he didn't ever want to risk ruining your life by getting you pregnant, and he certainly refused to force his own child to be born a bastard.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon knew as soon as he slid inside you for the first time, it was different. Not a shred of that insecurity was in his mind anymore.

He fucked you against the wall that night steady and slow, and there was not a shred of doubt in his mind that he wanted to cum as deep as he could. Pressing you tight against the wall and sinking as far as you could take him, all Jon wanted to do after, was do it again. And again. He dreamed about it, he craved it, he loved cumming inside you and he didn't have the sensibility or willpower anymore to stop himself.

He was quick all on his own to have everything to brew you moontea, he wasn't about to get reckless. Until you were both in the right place together, Jon would make sure part of taking care of you after was to make you some as you rested. Easing whatever parts of both your minds would worry if you became pregnant before either of you were ready.

But really, Jon wanted only to spill inside you, and when you couldn't take anymore then he'd paint your beautiful skin with whatever he still had left.

Robb Stark:

There are only two places Robb wants to cum, down your throat or inside your cunt. If some gets elsewhere then you look like a dream painted with his seed, but if he isn't cumming inside you, he wants it down your throat.

He would watch you swallow his seed and the man could almost orgasm again just from that sight and feeling. The knowledge that even just your stomach is filled with him, as much as he fills you with his cock, makes him lose his mind. And you swallow him so happily too, as if you love the taste of him and he suspects you are too embarrassed to admit you do.

But he also loves cumming inside you. At his core, Robb is a man dedicated to family, it means everything to him. And he wants every and any chance to start one with you, so he always wants to cum deep inside you as many times in a night as he an get away with. The more he does, the sooner likely you may find yourself pregnant.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

It's not dirty, nor is it much of a secret really, but Jon sometimes wondered if you truly understood just how long he's been in love with you.

He knew Lord Stannis Baratheon's daughter was coming to serve as his fathers ward, but he didn't think much of it until the day you arrived. He and Robb were 10 and had been in the training yard. But his memory was so striking and vivid when his father had come by with this small 8 year old girl with scared eyes looking everywhere with uncertainty.

Robb was swinging a practice sword at him, and almost accidentally smacked him in the head, beacuse Jon had stopped paying attention since he was staring so much. When he realized who you were, he almost wanted to throw up at realizing he was going to have to spend months in the same home as you, beacuse he thought you were the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

When you had been introduced to Robb, you looked at him after and asked what his name was. He was nervous telling you he was a Snow, but as soon as you asked simply if he was the other son of Lord Stark which your father mentioned, he realized you had barrelled right past the fact that he was a bastard and just lumped him in the same place as Robb.

Jon hadn't ever said it, but he was pretty sure he fell in love with you then, and it never stopped for even a second after.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon sort of has two secrets. One is more blatantly filthy, one is a little more serious. The serious one is something you think is only a joke.

He had told you once, that he had previously wondered when he was thinking of taking the black, if he should just take you far north instead. Leave, and build you a nice, warm home there where you could just be together. But in those dreams, Jon genuinely wanted children. He could see at least five, in that memory. Four little ones running around, and you swollen with his fifth child, beacuse who you two were didn't have to matter.

It was a sensitive subject for you now, and he would never even consider pushing before you were ready. But by present day when he would joke that his dream was up to ten children, Jon didn't know how to tell you that he wasn't really kidding. He never thought he would have a family, and now that he could with you, he wanted as many as you both could possibly have.

His second was blatantly filthy. Jon loved your breasts, perfect size for his rough hands and they were so sensitive. But Jon heard something from one of the free folk once, and now he held this dirty image of marking them up. Bruises and indents from his mouth and teeth until they turned colour, marking them right up until they were so sensitive you could tear up.

Then he wanted you to lay out on his bed, and he'd climb up over you and fuck them. Slide his cock in the space between your breasts and fuck them like he was inside you.

Then, just to finish the image, right when he was about to cum he'd pull back enough to make sure he coated both of your breasts in his seed, before grasping you again roughly to spread himself all over them.

Not in any life would Jon want to ask you for that, but it didn't stop him from thinking about everytime his teeth ran over the small buds on your breasts.

Robb Stark:

Robb has done it in small doses, tying up your wrists behind you, but Robb dreams of you letting him go a little more feral with it.

He wants you tied up all the way, at nothing but his mercy, can't move on your own, tie your pretty legs to the bed posts to keep you spread and your hands together up above your head. He'd blindfold you, too.

He wants to be so in control of everything that happens to your body in that scenario, without you even being allowed to see what he does, he wants you to trust him to such a degree you give up all your control left.

He won't ask you for that, he knows he'd be asking for something that's too extreme, so he does it in small doses. Makes you keep your eyes closed, ties only your wrists, only drags a small blade down a shift to expose your breasts when really if he could, Robb would do so much more. Maybe keep you standing in the middle of his bedroom, hang your arms up above your head with rope and cut off all your clothes like they're nothing to him. He has no idea where this desire has come from, but gods does he ever come up with new and inventive ways to ease you into every bit of it.

Maybe one day, you'll let him be enough of a animal, to just let him treat you like a pretty little slab of meat he can do whatever he wants with. Just once.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Not a shred of experience to be found. But Jon wasn't embarrassed about it.

He didn't care what others said about him, they didn't know Jon had you. Jon had been in love with you since he was 10, he never wanted any other girl that entire time, and he couldn't convince himself to look at one long enough to even try for a kiss. You and Jon were each others firsts. He was 18 by the time he kissed you that night in the wolfswood, and he was so happy he saved it for you.

After that, he dreamed of learning what you both liked together, and he enjoyed discovering all of it. You never went that far together, you both enjoyed taking it slow, but it was always at the exact same speed as the other.

So he'd let Theon make his jokes about him not being with a girl, Jon and you would get there when you both were ready.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon knew his approach to physical intimacy with you was different now, but he didn't like thinking about why.

On one hand, he knew you had much more natural experience. You married Robb, he took your maidenhood, and he taught you everything you had learned of sex in the three and a half years you shared. But then you were the Boltons captive, and every single bit of confidence, every part of you that was growing comfortable with sex was destroyed, taken away from you by force at the hands of Ramsay. And in a horrible way, whatever confidence Jon had spent 6 years building with you, was taken away from him too.

Calling his time with Ygritte “experience” made him feel unwell. It wasn't that. It was survival. Jon knew in his time travelling with her, he had tricked himself into thinking it was normal. Pretended it was normal to never want it, pretended it was normal to actively feel such deep self hatred if his body even remotely enjoyed the physical sensations alone, pretended it was normal to actively find ways to avoid letting her near him if he could. He didn't want any of what Ygritte took from him, but that was all the experience in terms of sex that Jon had.

It was why he pushed so hard to do certain things, like putting his mouth between your legs, with you as often as he did. If he consumed his mind with doing it with you, it negated the force in which made him learn about it in the first place. It wasn't easy, and he still knew he was avoiding talking about the worst of it with you, but Ramsay had hurt you more then Ygritte forced him, and so Jon preferred to focus on taking care of your safety.

Robb Stark:

If he were to summarize it in simple terms, Robb would say girls liked him more then he liked the girls. He wasn't stupid, he understood it. Robb knew he was handsome. He was the eldest son of Lord Eddard Stark, and he was also the heir to Winterfell. Robb knew he had a charm to his attitude that swooped in the easy giggles from girls.

But Robb more enjoyed that in a playful manner then he did serious. Sure he had sex with some of them, a few of them more then once but he never really had feelings for them beyond surface level affection. Never enough that his father or mother even would've really met any of them except in coincidental passing. Hell, compared to Theon the two men used to joke, Robb may as well have the experience equal to that of a septa.

By the time he married you, he hadn't been with a girl physically in years, and even if he did, all it meant was he knew how a girls body worked a little better then most guys. He knew your body better then you did before he ever touched you though, considering how overwhelmed he made you on your wedding night.

You were always so innocent compared to him, that he knew it made you feel as if he had hundreds of girls before you. But in truth it had only been a handful. And more importantly, he had never been anywhere near in love before he married you, and so you were the only experience he cared about.

He didn't fuck you on your wedding night like he did other girls, he fucked you in a way he had carefully planned out that you would enjoy. His experience just meant that he went in with more confidence then not on your wedding night.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

You two had never gotten that far, so he never really had a reason to think about what he preferred.

Jon did enjoy standing behind you when you two were alone, his hands gently trailing along your skin or under the collar of your dress. His hands rough and pulling gasps that you would bit your lip to prevent when he would twist and pull at the small pink buds of your breasts. Jon would always press his lips lightly to your neck, beacuse he loved how you would instinctual lean back into him. Rely on Jons firm stature to keep you standing on two feet as he eased you into his touch.

Maybe he was biased too, but if he were touching you more intimately, he liked having you sit on a surface as he stood between your legs. It was the way you two were positioned when he touched you for the first time out in the wolfswood, and he treasured that day a lot. He loved cupping your cheeks when standing before you like that, knowing as soon as he'd let one hand drift down your arm, you'd almost tense up in wonder if you'd feel his hand jump to pull the skirt of your dress up. Or if he'd simply wrap it around your waist to pull you more into his kiss innocently.

It wasn't a position of sex he liked about it, he just knew you associated it with the same afternoon he did, and Jon loved to tease you with his touch so you could only wait and see if he'd once more grace you with the experience again.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

There was no question Jon didn't just prefer missionary, he adored it.

Not a single other way he's taken you has Jon liked more or even anywhere near close to when he simply hovers over you with your legs gently spread for his body. One large hand hoisting your thigh up onto his hip while he felt your other leg move to almost wrap partially around one of his legs as if needing him to keep you steady flat out on the bed.

He loved taking you when you were nice and comfortable, spread out on his bed or on the furs in front of the fire in his chambers. He'd hover over you and be able to see every inch of you, move your legs either apart or over his shoulders when his mouth watered at the thought of tasting you. He could kiss you anywhere that way, and hold you down, as his strength meant he could keep you there as he kissed his way down to your cunt. And it also meant he could follow that path right back up and force you to taste yourself on his tongue while his other hand moved to sink his cock deep inside you. All the while, Jon could watch you and your eyes perfectly and you never had to do the work if he held you there. Just the way Jon wanted it.

Jon loved being able to control the pace he would fuck you at, ensure you were nothing but in deep pleasure. He could reach his hands up, interlock his fingers with yours and press them into the sheets. He could watch your face twist in pleasure, and your hands would tighten around his own fingers too, the closer you got. Or he'd let them go free, and you'd unknowingly claw your nails down his back as you arched into him as you came. He could bury his face in your neck or hair and the position meant he could go as fast or gentle as he wanted.

There was not a single thing which would beat how much he could focus on you when Jon took you in simple missionary.

Robb Stark:

He loves taking you from behind, and there is no way Robb could deny it. Nor would be bother to. He was a gods forsaken wolf about it.

The second time he ever fucked you, he had been apart from you for months. Now back, you were both going to war, you had just escaped Kings Landing and hadn't been with him since your wedding night. But he had spent so much of that time, letting his mind drift to you during his days, that finally seeing you again he almost jumped into it as if you'd been with him all that time. Theon had once commented that he could've mistaken you two for being married for decades, the way Robb would bring you up more then he ever had in the eleven years the men knew one another.

But then he had you back, in his bed as you raked your small hands through his curls that so gently woke him up, and more importantly, woke his cock up. He flipped you over, and as soon as you were on your hands and knees he yanked your hips so you basically were only lifted off the bed only by your ass, so he could fuck you from behind. The way in which you so willingly submitted to him in that position, how Robb could pound into you like that as fast and rough as he freely wanted, and all you could do was cry his name and take it.

You soaked his cock like none other when he had you on your hands and knees, and sometimes he'd shove a hand in your hair and hold your face down to the pillow and all you'd do was clench tightly around his cock.

He knew he was acting nothing of a gentleman, and his mother would be utterly ashamed that Robb would take his wife like a complete brute. But when you were bent over in front of his cock, giving yourself over to his mercy or lack thereof and would beg for more even when he was rough about it? It made him lose his mind.

Besides, Robb was quite blatantly obsessed with your ass and from that position, he could smack and grope it all he liked. But when you really lost yourself to his cock? Your own hips bouncing back on him the whole time he fucked into you? Well it would just make him run his mouth even filthier towards you for it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Goofy was not a word anyone had ever used to describe Jon Snow.

He was brooding, intense, he felt things very raw and that extended to you entirely. Jon would tease or smirk at the start when he'd kiss you, but the second it got a little more serious he dropped the act. He took your pleasure seriously, your mood seriously, and he didn't want his time with you to turn into a laugh when it was such limited time in the first place to have with you.

He loved to hear you laugh, don't get him wrong, but his physical time with you was limited, and it just wasn't the place he wanted to do that.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If Jon was not a humorous man before, he was even less so now.

Both in life and sex, but it was more obvious when he was with you physically. Jon didn't even smile when he fucked you, not beacuse he didn't like it, or love you, but he felt nothing to be amused by. Sex was very serious to him, your safety and your well being couldn't be watched if Jon was goofing around or making you laugh.

He dedicated every ounce of focus to taking care of you, and he didn't like humour being involved there. Your safety was not funny to Jon. Sex with him was never goofy. It was intense, raw, and overwhelming for both of you. He had time to make you laugh later, that's what his words of teasing were for.

Not for the bedroom, though. Not now, not ever.

Robb Stark:

Robb would chuckle dark in what he know was a bit of a sadistic tendency towards you.

Would chuckle as you were a crying mess for him, or sometimes he would laugh at how you sounded begging for him, or gasping out that you love him. It meant you had him comfortable enough to drop the dominance enough to show the cracks of the mischievous boy underneath the rough man.

Even better was if he could make you laugh after sex, that was even better then during. He loved hearing you laugh, it was a gorgeous sound so many men would never hear in their lives. Robb loved that he was trusted enough with you, that you would let him hear you giggle like a little girl in the most venerable of moments of intimacy. He loved seeing you relaxed enough to feel that amused at anything.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

Jon Snow:

If there was a place in Westeros which that kind of personal grooming for men was common, the North wasn't it.

He didn't let it get out of control, but it wasn't as if smooth, clean cut men were the norm here, and Jon was not that anyways. His hair atop his head was long, wild, black, and thick and it was around his cock as well. Coarse and rough, more like his facial hair.

But at the least Jon did enough to ensure it was fair to you.

Always clean and trimmed enough that it wasn't out of control, but Jon didn't exactly put time into it. He didn't really care, only enough that was to treat you right.

Besides, if Jons cock was deep inside you, he knew when it was on the longer, wilder side, that coarse dark hair could brush against your clit and he knew the sensation was enough to make you grasp tightly around his shoulders and back. Once he learned that, he trimmed far less often.

After all, he knew you liked how much his facial hair could burn against your sensitive skin, so why would the hair around his cock be any different.

Robb Stark:

He won't lie to himself, Robb is sort of a classic Northern man in that sense. Body hair didn't feel like something he should be ashamed of. He wasn't a wild man around his cock, but he didn't trim as much as what he assumed fancy Southern men would like to do.

Tons of them in the Kings visit were clean cut, no facial hair to be found, and groomed all fancy, and Robb hated that his mother had his curls trimmed and face clean cut. She said it was for the Kings visit, but he knew it was supposed to be for you, even though Robb knew you liked him with facial hair. You had told him as such more then once before. But at least during the Kings visit, Jon had to suffer with him on that one.

The hair by his cock was dark, coarse, and unlike the hair on his head which tinted a Tully red in the sunlight, below his hair was as dark as it ever was. It was trimmed only enough that it wasn't obscene for you, but you also clearly didn't care that much. You sucked his cock no matter what state the hair around his cock was in, so as long as it was manageable he didn't think much of it.

Robb knew he fucked you like a wild beast, so maybe it made sense he kept himself groomed only slightly above one in return.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon doesn't have much of an active physical relationship with you, mostly due to the nature of keeping things secret.

The biggest part of what he can give you, is simply romance at its core. Gentle touches, soft hands, doing little things for you and always with low tones and comforting murmurs in your ear. Sometimes if he had you in his lap, then he could feel his heart tearing at him a bit, insecurity yelling as he doubts whether or not he's treating you well.

He wants you to be loved, no matter what he's doing and even though you both hadn't reached having sex, he's just as romantic about all the rest as he is when you're both innocent and fully clothed.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon is as romantic in the moment as he is utterly intense.

His emotions are at an all time high when he's fucking you, and yet he feels almost terrified of letting you think he's anything but obsessed with loving you with all his heart. His touches are tighter, rougher, words harsher as they come out, but Jon will cling you to just as much as he knows you do him.

Sex is intense with Jon, and making sure you feel loved, safe and cared for is his biggest priority.

You've both had your share of being forced on by another person and Jon will do everything to ensure you never come close to that again with him. Jon knows he's addicted to you, worships you, he'd go to the ends of the earth and back for you. And if you don't feel that and more when Jon is inside you, then he would consider that a failure on his part.

He's raw and intense, but romance and intimacy is what he treasures with you now and he would do anything to ensure he never gives you less then that.

Robb Stark:

If Robb was aware of a massive problem he struggled with, it was that he tended to forget the romantic side of sex with you.

He loved you, he adored you in every single way, but Robb definitely was a bit on the rough, and hard dominant side when he fucked you. Rough attitude, degrading words, harsh and controlling touches and he didn't kiss you a lot during sex.

He wanted to hear you whine and beg and he couldn't do that if he were gentle and sweet. He could be the meanest parts of himself knowing that he would take gentle care of you the moment he was done.

You were the love of his life, he wanted to take you home and treat you like the actual Queen you deserved to be with him in Winterfell, but at war it was different. He wasn't always like that during sex, but it was common enough that he had a heavy heart knowing you trusted him to truly take care of you when you handed your obedience over to him like that.

Robb knows he is more of a man that thinks of sex as fucking rather then making love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you were in Winterfell, no, he didn't masturbate.

Jon wanted to spend time with you, treasure every chance he got to feel your soft skin, your beautiful lips against his. If you were in the North, Jon had no thought of it, beacuse he had everything he would be fantasizing about anyways. You slowly explored things together, so if you were right in front of him, that was enough. But you weren't always there.

He hadn't started touching himself thinking of you until nearing fifteen. But really, what else was a teenage boy, with a crush on his best friend, supposed to do? It happened more after he kissed you though, he was eighteen and exploring more of an appetite for things sexual in nature anyways.

When you weren't there he would try and hold off, but sometimes you were gone for so long that he couldn't help it. It wasn't ever as satisfying as even being near you like that, but it was all Jon had when you'd be away from him for months.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon has you. He doesn't want anything else.

He came back to life, and only minutes after that did Jon slide his cock deep inside you for the first time, and he lost all interest in doing it himself then and there. He wanted you, your touch. Your wet, warm, and tight walls that clenched around him.

The only time he came close to masturbating anymore, was if he would bring your hand to his cock, covering it with his bigger one and help guide you to stroke him. But only ever until you felt confident to take over, otherwise any touch his cock got, he wanted it to be with you.

Masturbating just didn't interest him now. Jon had you, and he wanted you. Why settle for less then when he knew you wanted him as well?

Robb Stark:

Never once since you came back to him after escaping Kings Landing, did Robb not have you right there at his side. So in truth, Robb hadn't masturbated since you came back. What would he want that was better then his pretty little wife right in front of him?

When he was acting Lord of Winterfell, he admits he masturbated a bit more in the very dead of night then he used too. Partially the stress of everything, being away from his new wife after one night messed with his head on top of everything.

Robb would end up kneeling on the bed, grasping rough at what was supposed to be your pillow and stroke his cock. Through gritted teeth Robb would mutter as he did so how much he missed you, how much he wanted you back with him and how much he wanted to teach you beyond your first night together.

But then you were finally back, and Robb once more found no love for his hand when he had his pretty, needy little Queen ready to do whatever he said.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Without ever actually having sex, Jon didn't really have much of a concept of that kind of thing. He knew what he liked when you two were physical, but that level of sexual interest hadn't existed yet.

He had things he liked of course. He adored when you would run your hands through his hair, nails scratching along his scalp and giving little instinctual tugs when Jon would be a little more bold. He also knew he liked to take care of you, he liked making sure you felt good, and he loved to tease you until you might just pass out from a flustered embarrassment.

It was never in a context of genuine sex, but you and Jon learned together what you liked. You just didn't have the chance to take it that far.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you were to ask Jon directly, he'd say he didn't really have any kinks. But the more he'd think about you, the more he touched you it was clear there were some major ones.

Always making sure he was soft about it, and gentle as to not push you too far, but Jon loved being dominant with you. His entire life was at the bottom, out of his control and lacked any choice. But now? Now things were different, and you trusted him with your well being during sex and Jon took charge of that with immense responsibility.

He didn't like feeling not totally in control when with you, and dominance was the most natural way Jon presented himself during sex.

Jon didn't admit it to you, but he was obsessed with cumming inside you for a reason. He wanted to fill you with his seed constantly, over and over, keep it deep inside you until neither of you had anything left.

Jon would genuinely dream about keeping you tied to his bed, fucking you over and over, until you were with child.

Gods help him when he was with you, and his mind started to think about getting you pregnant. Because Jon didn't stand a chance of composure after that, all he dreamed of was you letting him spill inside you again and again until you swelled with his child.

And if that was a kink, then Jon absolutely had it.

Robb Stark:

Robb knows he can get a bit mean during sex.

He's dominant, very dominant. A strong, controlling weight on top of you that knows exactly how to order you around in the most pleasurable way for you. He gets off on being controlling dominant, and he also really gets off on how insanely obedient he's taught you to be.

You trust him so much that he could ask you to anything and you'd do it because you trust him to take care of you. It drives him mad how much you submit to him.

How he adores you with all his heart, but Robb degrades you like you're a whore in some brothel he's paying a copper for. And how much you love it. He so easily calls you a needy little slut, his whore of a Queen and you will whine everytime he hisses those things in your ear.

He also admits, that perhaps what helped him get used to being called a King, was hearing you say it as he fucked you. Having his Queen beg for her King to fuck her certainly made Robb learn he enjoyed it, at least as long as it came begging out of your pretty mouth.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

One might think his favourite place to be with you was the privacy of his own room, but it was really the opposite.

Jon had five siblings, three of the youngest which liked to barge in on him at any moment during the day, meaning anything he and you did in his room like that had to be very easily hidden.

Most of the time, you and Jon liked to just go for a ride on horseback for a while, and wherever in the wolfswood you would end up was where the most exploration you two had with the other. No one was around, the likelihood someone would find you exactly there was so minimal in the vast, large expanse of the not very populated North.

You both loved being outdoors like that, where no eyes would find you and you could be as close and affectionate with the other with total freedom.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon has two similar favourites, and a guilty pleasure.

Mostly, he loves taking you in his room. Either he wants to lay you out on his own bed where he can climb over top of you and take you as many times as he wanted, or Jon would do so as you were both bare on the fur in front of his fire. His room always ran cold, but between the heat of the fire he diligently would tend to, and the quite warm temperature of Jons own body heat, even on the coldest nights he could have you sweating if he fucked you in front of the fire for long enough.

He loved the intimacy, the freedom of fucking you where was the most personal to you both, and now his position and title meant being barged in on was unlikely. Jon would pull you into his arms, and let you tuck into his chest bare as anything as you fell asleep. If in his bed it was easier to cover you up. But if he laid with you after out on the fur, if someone walked in now, that was their fault.

He did however, have a more perverse pleasure in fucking you up against the Weirwood tree in the Winterfell godswood, the night sky all around. Jon loved taking you deep for only the unjudging eyes of the old gods to bear witness to his need for you.

Robb Stark:

If Robb is a traditional man in any way it's how he has no interest in fucking you anywhere but in his room, in his bed, or at least what tent acted for your room out in his army camp.

He's fine with people hearing you, if anything he hopes his men have had a few good nights with their own hand listening to the degree to which you whine and beg when his cock is pounding into you. But he never once would let them see even a glimpse. Not a chance.

One time Theon had walked in, and Robb got so mad at what he almost saw that the Greyjoy later swore Grey Wind was about to rip his head off. After that, Robb would have Grey Wind guard right outside your tent together, as long as he was there, no one came in for any reason.

The direwolf would come in to sleep when it was all over, but he kept guard so Robb could fuck you into the mattress as hard as he wanted without any more risk of someone seeing you so pretty as you took his cock over and over.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

For a man who was terrified of getting you pregnant, Jon knew it was strange to get worked up watching you with children. So much of the time you were stoic and serious. But you were so soft and easy to smile with children that he couldn't get enough of it.

Much more specific, the first kiss you shared after each time you would return to Winterfell would work Jon up. You two always having to wait until the dead of night, and finally when he was able to kiss you after however many months it had been, it inevitably turned into you both kissing passionately for quite a while.

Jon had to learn how to be very controlled when he wanted you, knowing neither of you had the freedom of just being able to express that whenever you desired.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Were you to strip Jon down to his bare essentials, he would honestly just be turned on by you at any time. It took mostly, for you to even be a thought in Jons head for him to want you.

Your soft eyes gentle smile and even more gentle and caring touches worked him up. Worse so, the more innocent your kiss, the more genuine your touch that wasn't sexual, it would make Jons cock the hardest the quickest.

You two were together and had the freedom to show it, Jon had no more reason to want to hide how much you made him want you. It definitely wasn't always sexual, but sometimes it was a struggle for Jon to not let it turn sexual.

He didn't want you thinking he saw you as an object to fuck, sex was something he trusted so much between you both that it was an extension of how much he loved and adored you. But it also meant, you made his cock stir more often now then Jon had likely even been hard in his entire previous life.

Robb Stark:

Jealousy was one of Robbs most blatant traits. He was so jealous of the way other men looked at you or spoke about you to the degree that it made him noticeably possessive.

But what made it so strong as a need to fuck you, was how little you noted or cared about any attention that didn't come from Robb. You ignored or didn't know what men were leering at you like, but the second Robb came over with rough touches and a strained voice he was so jealous, you'd ease it by instantly going to him with gentle words and a soothing, innocent touch.

He wants his men to hear you, because none of them with their whores visiting their own tents get from them, sounds anywhere near what Robb pulls from you for free.

You are the love of his life, and what turns him on too much is how easy it is for you to remind men of that just by your innocent dedication to his love in public. He would keep a hand on you, kiss you, be sweet with you in front of his men and you would get flustered over it but let him do it because you knew that's how Robb liked to treat you.

Robbs own jealousy was a motivator, but he also knew he was easily turned on by your continued ability to be so damned innocent.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

You would tell him it's ironic, considering half of the time he spent with you in the training yard over the years was him knocking you into the dirt, but Jon would never do anything that would hurt you.

His touch was sure to always be gentle no matter what, and never too rough or demanding. He also knew that he didn't want to treat you the way he knew a lot of men treated women they were with. Or if he were honest, the way Jon reluctantly knew Theon was with women. You shared a stretch of corridors with Theon where your own chambers were and thus you and Jon spent much time when in your chambers, coping with what was inevitable to hear.

Jon didn't want to be harsh and vulgar, treat you in a way that would make you feel as if you were just like a whore in a brothel he paid for. You had brought up, or tried to nervously bring up something you'd heard about from one of the girls around and Jon shot it down.

He knew somewhat of the girls you meant, and a few of them worked the brothel just outside the castle walls in Winter Town. And Jon just didn't want to treat you the way most men treated those women.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

A lot of his previous turn offs remained the same. Only now, Jon had to work on his own intense possessiveness versus his needs. He was a lot rougher with you now, and he had to consciously remind himself that he didn't want you to feel used.

He didn't fuck you hard like that beacuse he wanted to treat you that way, Jon would just lose himself in how you felt around his cock. But it all tied into not liking to feel out of control. He struggled to let you suck his cock, beacuse he would too easily lose control and overwhelm you by going too rough.

Jon didn't like being out of control, but he knew he was lucky that you did not want to be the dominant one in bed, as much as Jon did not want to be the submissive one. It worked well, you trusted to hand your safety over to Jon and he got to be the one to take care of you entirely. He wasn't really much interested in the opposite, he didn't want to be ordered around or told what to do, not for this, not with you.

He knew he had to work on how intense and rough he would get, but Jon sometimes just didn't realize how rough he was getting. You never seemed to dislike it, but he didn't want you thinking you were just here for someone to fuck. He loved you, he adored you, and he wanted to be the one to take care of you.

Anything less then being in charge, Jon just wasn't interested in anymore. If he ever really was in the first place.

Robb Stark:

Robb really only had two hard limits for himself. He didn't want to fuck you with any risk that someone was going to see you, and he refused to do anything that would genuinely hurt you.

He went rough and played dirty but not once did Robb like the idea that you could get hurt by his hands. You trusted him with your safety in bed and Robb would always take that responsibility with the heavy weight it deserved. He knew your limits and would never push you, if he thought he was at risk he would stop.

Check in with you, gauge what kind of response you gave and decide if he needed to ease up for your sake or not. Robb would slap your ass until it was red and painful, but only beacuse you liked when he did it. That smacking would never go anywhere but your ass, and maybe your cunt when you were being particularly needy.

Otherwise his biggest no is having anyone see you. Again, he ended up having Grey Wind stand guard outside his tent anytime he intended to fuck you, just to make sure the King in the North was given the proper time with his pretty little wife that he needed without interruption. You were his, and he wanted none of these men in his camp to have a chance at seeing you no matter what he teased with.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

It was ironic that you ended up being the one married with more experience, considering that Jon knew you had so little idea about sex it almost was endearing.

He had joked once that if your chambers were by Theons, how did you still know so little about sex. And you'd shove him all flustered, muttering that just beacuse you could hear sure as hell didn't mean you listened.

You had come to him one day about taking his cock in your mouth, and Jon knew you had learned it from those girls who worked in and around the Winter Town brothel. You weren't a whore he was paying for, he didn't want you on your knees like they would for any brute who had a copper to spare.

He had known somewhat about tasting a girl between her legs, but by the time he heard about it, you weren't graced with enough time for him to even try and bring it up. It was a story Theon had told when he, Jon, and Robb had a little too much wine one night. Robb had shoved the man and gotten up to find a tree to piss on, leaving Jon to listen to a drunk story but he was far too unconfident to ask a single question about it. By the time Jon might have wanted to bring it up to you, you had to leave for Kings Landing and wouldn't return until you did with the royal company to marry Robb.

And that was the end of anything he assumed.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If Jon could abuse his new title, and simply order you to not suck his cock anymore, he might have. But that was too authoritarian, and way too controlling.

The issue for him was, Jon didn't like being the one not in responsible control, and he was too wild and unpredictable when you took his cock in your mouth. Jon would much rather live and die between your legs.

It was one of the first things he did when he had come back, and maybe that turned it into an addiction. Jons mouth watered at the very thought of tasting you, and he a time or two had done it for a few hours continuously beacuse he truly couldn't convince himself to leave. He never tasted something like the wetness he would drink from you, and he never would anywhere else. It was like an oasis crafted for him alone.

Sure, it felt unbelievable when you sucked his cock, but if he was going to lose control he'd rather it be with his mouth attached to your cunt where the most pushing he could do was shock you from too much pleasurable stimulation. Rather then pushing your safety and your anxiety too far, with his cock in your mouth when he knew it could go from enjoyable to unpleasant for you in a second.

Robb Stark:

There was no point in lying about it. Robb lived for you sucking his cock.

It was one of the first things he fantasized about still during your wedding night. He imagined guiding your mouth over him so often when you and him were separated after the wedding, that when you came back to him, it was the first thing he properly did with you. Had you suck his cock like a good girl, and ever since he was obsessed.

How well you did, how much you truly, desperately wanted to be able to take all of him, how you'd close your eyes and barley realize you were letting out hums of moans and needy whines the more you sucked him. He'd guide your head at his own choice of pace, and he loved filling your stomach with his seed as if that was all you needed to live off of.

He'd known somewhat about putting his mouth on you, but by the time he had wanted to try, you two were at war and there just wasn't a whole lot of places to figure out what he'd be doing properly, and he wasn't about to go asking whatever whores his soldiers hired, to ask how to taste his own wife. That, and Robb didn't want to make you feel nervous by introducing something so intimate, and so brand new to you so suddenly.

He desperately wanted too, but it was just something he didn't know quite how to bring up to you yet.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Without ever having sex, pace wasn't exactly something Jon payed attention to. The rate in which your actual relationship developed was slow.

You had known each other for fourteen years, been together for six by the time you both wanted to try having sex, and even then you both realized neither of you were ready.

Everything he did with you was slow, he didn't rush, he didn't push, and he made sure everything he did do, was gentle. Exploring exactly what you liked, and making sure you felt loved when doing so. Something more of an urge in him sometimes whispered in his ear to go faster, or rougher with you but he could push that down easy. In your minds at the time, you both had all the time in the world.

If it all took a slow, loving pace to get there, then so be it. Or so you both once thought.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon tries to be gentle, he really does.

He often starts out slow. A loving gentleness rooted in how heavy you make his heart feel, but the more into it Jon gets, the more of something of a darker animal inside him does he let out.

He never contains himself the entire time, it's impossible. At some point, even if just right at the end, Jon will end up pounding his cock into you fast like a true wolf with his mate . Whatever dark, needy filth locked away in his head accidentally pours out in a deep husk in your ear beacuse he can't stop it.

Don't get him wrong, its passionate, intimate, and always ensuring you feel safe, loved and protected, but once Jon can hear how wet you are each time his cock sinks into you, its the beginning of the end. That's music to his ears, and he returns such a harmony right back. Fucking into you rough enough that anyone within 50 feet can probably hear how loud and rough of a slap Jons hips rutting into yours becomes. If the slap of your skin together echos in his ears, hes likely already too deep into the darker part of his mind to slow down.

He would never push you too far, never once. But Jon is unpredictable. He can start slow, sliding his cock almost all the way out before pushing himself back in as deep as he can, all the while you feel every inch of him beacuse he's just going that slow. But eventually, he picks up the roughness, and right near his final orgasm, that slap of skin becomes a steady smack as he rushes himself towards being able to cum one last time deep inside you.

But Jon knows his limits, and he is always hyper aware of how close he's getting to pushing you to yours and never once in his life will Jon ever actually cross that line. He'll get right up to it as close as can be, but never will he even slightly tip over into pushing you too much.

Robb Stark:

If there ever was a man who was a real wolf in the bedroom, it was Robb.

Slow was saved for when he used his fingers on you, and that was it. As soon as that man gets his cock inside of you, it's done. He is fucking you rough and fast until you are soaking his cock around him in a desperate cry.

Hes slow when he's in your mouth, beacuse he knows that's something you both enjoy, and he doesn't want to hurt you by pushing you too far, but your cunt is another story. Robb will fuck you fast to the point you can barley catch your breathe before he's pounding back inside of you.

The slap of your skin together is telling of how rough he goes, and the men have sometimes joked they're shocked you can ride a horse the next day, let alone bloody walk. Sex with Robb is fast and dominating, and he is happy to slow down and take his time doing everything else with you, just not when your warm cunt is clenching around his cock.

He knows if he could take you home to Winterfell, he'd be much better. He'd take you slow, take his time with you, but you were both out at war and he didn't have the luxury no matter how much Robb wished he could take you gentle and slow.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

When Jon thought about in in retrospective, it might have been the perfect time for you two to have quickies.

Always in secret, never having as much time as you both deserved with the other. Were you two actually having sex, fucking you fast and quick would have been optimal. But as it stood, you never had sex. So you two never did anything even close to that.

But, in Winterfell? With his father, the household guard, Lady Catelyns judging eyes, and the varying rambunctious nature of Jons five siblings, having you quick like that would have been risky.

Someone would catch you. Anything you did had to wait until you knew you were alone. Hell, Jon once got a little too eager to gently kiss you one evening, and as it turned out, Arya had spotted you both in the stables, and that's how she found out. Jon trusted her not to tell, but he never took anything of that risk again.

In total private where he could take his time, or not at all.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you went to Jon right now and asked if he liked quickies, he'd say no. He would say he hates them. And that would be the biggest lie he's ever told in his life.

It's possible he was abusing his status as King in the North to do so, but if he were a little late to the meeting, no one was going to say anything. And he was far better at pretending everything was fine then you were, so if only Jon walked in, no one would know. Except Tormund. Somehow Tormund always could tell, and Jon would spend the next 20 minutes actively ignoring that prideful but amused glint in the mans eye.

But he loved quickies. Jon loved fucking you needing and fast. Finding an empty wall to shove you against, sinking deep inside you and overwhelming you in seconds to the point you were powerless to do anything but let Jon take you. The way you'd cling to him in those seconds after, knowing this was all you had for now when normally Jon would kiss and hold you tenderly. It just made you needier for that later.

He never would admit it, saying he only wanted you when he could take his proper time and care. But the amount of times Jons almost gotten you both caught, beacuse he desperately needed to fuck you out of nowhere, was starting to stack up quickly.

Robb Stark:

One man truly and honestly hates quickies with all his being, and his name is Robb Stark.

If he has to fuck you quick, he's not going to do it and that is without exaggeration, the end of that. Robb wants to take you apart, he wants to ruin you for hour and hours until you have nothing left but his cock inside you, and then he'll build you back up like the Queen you are. That takes time, and patience.

Robb almost gets more worked up the more he cums, he hates the idea of fucking you quick in the middle of the day. Robb has things to do, he can control himself long enough to just get over it if he wants you. Part of it goes hand in hand with not wanting anyone to see you or come close to catching you, since Robb has no shred of privacy to touch you outside the isolation of your tent at night.

You're the love of his life, he wants to make sure you never question that fact. He may whisper in your ear like you're a whore in a brothel, but he won't fuck you like one. Not like he's here to throw a copper at you, cum and then leave. He hates that idea, it doesn't even appeal to him.

Robb wants you proper, in a bed, where he can fuck you hard, and then show you how much he loves you. He can't do that if he just ruts inside of you like an animal, roughly against a wall in the middle of the day.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? Etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Technically, Jons entire relationship with you was the risk. He was a bastard, you were a highborn girl and niece to King Robert of all people. You were supposed to be courted by men like Robb, not a bastard with nothing to offer you but his heart.

He didn't try any experimenting or risk taking in sexual terms beacuse you two didn't have that freedom. The risk, was what Jon already did.

The risk was that night in the pouring rain in the wolfswood. He was 18 and you were nearing 16, he and his brother would hunt you and Theon in the wolfswood and see who could make it until midnight without being caught by the two wolves who knew this land like the back of their hands.

It was close to the end, Theon had been caught and Robb had given up once the rain started, so it was only Jon and you left, and Jon had finally caught you. Grabbed you from behind and held you to his chest with a low rasp of his victory, teasing in your ear.

He didn't know at first if you understood why the air changed. You were younger and certainly more innocent then him, but you were suddenly nervous enough that Jon felt confident it wasn't just him anymore. You tried to run, escape the way the air between you two changed to something heavy you didn't understand, but Jon didn't want this to stop. If you left now, he may never be confident enough again. So he grabbed you once more, tossing your back against a tree to make you stop running. You were soaked from the rain, eyes so wide and bright with lips just slightly parted in confusion, and it was too much for him to hold back.

It was the biggest risk Jon ever took, but he moved quick. Cupping both of your cheeks and leaning down to press his lips to yours. But the fact that you arched right up into him? Kissed him back eagerly and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck?

Jon knew there was no risk of him getting caught being with you that could outweigh how much this one payed off that night.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Risks were half of what Jon took now. Risk this fight, risk that battle but none were more worrying then every risk he took with you.

At every turn since having you back, it felt as if something threw a new test between you at every opportunity. Put on question how much Jon could protect you, and too many times did he not know how to stop it.

But, if there was a solace, it was that risks were only not unwilling to be taken when it came to taking you. Neither had done much and Jon fantasized about more and at every turn, he was fairly certain you would want what he wanted. He worried about it, worried that he was too rough, was too demanding, his intentions too forward but each time you came back to him with as much eagerness as the first time.

He knew he was gaining advice from either the best or worse sources, as the free folk around him all spoke rather blatantly about the sexual things they had done. Some of which Jon barley heard of, most of which Jon knew you had never known existed. And it took some work to tell himself not to try everything, but he certainly thought about them. Would hear the men go on about it, and just as he wondered why do it if it wasn't good for the woman, he'd hear just that other side from them and suddenly Jon learned far more about ways in which he could take you that you might enjoy, then he ever imagined. And he was willing to do them all, as long as you liked the idea, and it didn't harm you?

Jon might never say that he wants those things, but if they came up between you, he'd want to do it in a heartbeat.

Robb Stark:

One may think Robb would be a risk taker considering the degree to which he can fuck you any and everyday with his dominating mind and desires. But in truth, he doesn't like to take risks with you. That scares him, no matter if it's innocent or sexual in nature.

You're his wife and he came so close to losing you the way the Lannisters murdered his father, should Ser Barristan Selmy not have helped you to escape Kings Landing.

Taking new risks with you, while can be fun to playfully bicker about when you are naked in his lap as he keeps his cock sunk deep with a silent hope he's helping his seed take, he rarely will introduce anything that would be considered one.

You both are at war, you fight by his side in battle, that's more risk then Robb ever wanted with you, and he won't do any more beyond what you two already have.

He wants you home in Winterfell, swollen with his child before the proper start of Winter, he doesn't want to risk you in anyway that delays that anymore. He knows it's a big paranoia considering how much you trust him with your body, but Robb knows what your limits are and what his limits are and he refuses to go beyond those in any capacity.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon didn't have much way of gauging what he'd be like with you, at least in that manner. Much of what you two had done could've taken of their time and wasn't too taxing on either of you.

He'd draw it out as much as he could for you, and on the nights he managed to be weak enough to have you perched on his lap in his bed, he wasn't really aware of the time which passed. Of course, the time that passed sometimes went well over two hours without realizing. Sometimes he'd cum, but he could keep going after, likely the most he had in one night with you was three, but again, it wasn't quite direct touch and he had no way of knowing what being inside you might be like.

On his own, where he'd have too much of you he missed and no way to see you? It depended on how worked up he was. If he was mostly just horny, he could look to a memory of you and not last long and be satisfied.

But on nights he really missed you, he'd take out a stashed article of clothing of yours that he kept close. Grey eyes drifting to a letter of yours, and trying to read it and hear your voice in his head. Bracing a hand on the stone wall near his window, and the other on his cock, Jon could keep himself that consistently worked up for at least an hour straight on those nights.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Whether it was always in him to be like this with you, or if something about returning to life changed aspects of himself, Jon didn't know. But he could last for longer and stay hard so much longer then most men.

Jon could cum four times in a row and still be as hard and desperate as before the first. As long as something of his cock was inside you, Jon seemed to be able to last as long as it took to wear you out. His cock having that aggressive drive to fill you until he was empty just so he could do it all over again the next night. Hours it would last.

That night in the Ice Cells of Castle Black, Jon had no concept of how long he had been fucking you, but it was certainly past the hour mark by the time he pressed your back into the floor.

Again, Jon knew there was something not normal about the degree of his stamina, judging by the fact that he could spend hours fucking you so much that you practically would pass out in his arms, and Jon still would lay you down under the furs of his bed, telling himself that he can't just take you when you're this sensitive and already falling asleep.

If you truly tested his resolve, Jon would start at sun down and still be taking you by sun up. He'd need good few rests of a couple moments in between, for you and him, but it wasn't as if he needed much recovery time. On a good night, Jon wouldn't even get anywhere less then still more then half hard when pulling out of you until you two were fully exhausted.

Robb Stark:

Gods be good, the more Robb cums, the longer he can go it seems. You'd think he actually gets more hard after each time he cums inside you.

He has to rest in between, normally beacuse he knows he is rough on you and he doesn't want to accidentally push you from sensitive to in pain, but once the dust has settled? He's ready to go and Robb will tell you to just lay there and take it like a good girl if you're too tired to do the work.

He's perfectly content with doing the heavy lifting in bed for you, doing the hard work beacuse this is nothing compared to the hell outside your tent.

There are some nights his men are fully aware neither their King nor Queen got a wink of sleep, beacuse the guards near his tent could hear you both all night without exaggeration. If something could magically give Robb more energy when it made no sense, Robb had found that magical source in sinking his cock deep inside you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon hadn't even gotten his cock inside you for the first time, he certainly wasn't about to let some pleasure toy get there before him.

He didn't really see the point as well, but he considered that maybe since he's a male, he might be unfairly overestimating the ease in which women would pleasure themselves. Men were a no brainer, but Jon had to take his time learning to fine tune your pleasure like a delicate instrument and toys might help in that capacity alone.

But he knew you didn't even realize such a thing existed, and he wasn't about to introduce that to you when he himself didn't like the idea.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Not a chance.

You had a significant amount of trauma behind you now, and thus you trusted Jon to take every step of the way to ensure you were safe and alright. Jon had no interest in using anything like a toy on you, he wanted to feel you, he wanted you to feel him.

Neither of you liked fucking in a way together with little physical contact and using a toy felt so lacking of intimacy. So lacking of passion. He couldn't gauge how you were feeling, or if you were close with a toy. Jon knew where you were at by the tiniest of clenches of your cunt around his cock or fingers and he'd never know with some toy inside you.

You wanted him, not something just used by him. And Jon wanted you, he wanted to feel you not just watch you get that feeling alone.

Robb Stark:

He wouldn't consider them toys, but he has tied you up before. Not much, just by the wrists but he wouldn't say that was a toy.

He knows what toys are out there and he dismisses that idea. What would something not real do for you that Robb couldn't give you himself in droves. He already has a cock that drives you insane, he has long fingers that reach your sensitive walls beyond what any toy could provide you.

Robb wants to tie you up more, blindfold you even but that was more of a, he wants you to trust him even more, sort of thing, rather then he wants to get wild with what he fucks you with. He wants what he introduces into sex to be a tool to help make the sex more pleasurable for you, not something to act as the sex itself without him.

Robb recalled once asking Theon what the point of them was, and having a good laugh between them that it's probably just what some Southerners invented beacuse their too boring with small cocks to actually pleasure a woman with what they barley have themselves.

And judging by how much you are utterly weak for Robbs touch, he would consider that to be likely more true then not.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon had to be subtle about it, but he was relentless.

Knew the exact look to give you to make you stiffen up and hide how flustered you could get. Knew just how briefly of a touch of his hand across your lower back as he passed in public to make your breathe hitch. Jon of course, also teased you just in words. He was quite good at teasing you at all stages of your friendship together but he was sadistic once you were were involved.

Some teasing was normal, others sounded more biting and mean to people around when you knew he was just trying to get you worked up. Get you annoyed, so that he could feel you melt against him later when he finally kissed you at your most irritated at him, and tease more that you were quite predictable.

This passed to touch as well, the first time he pleasured you was simple. A nice, exploration of his fingers on your clit as he worked out what you liked best, and just as he payed attention to what it is you about to cum looked and sounded like, did he pull away. Then he worked you up and did it again as you almost whined.

He loved it, he loved keeping you on an edge that had you not being able to do anything but rely on his touch, before he took it away at the perfect moment.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Gods be good, he is one of the seven hells sent directly to torment you. Jon no longer has to be subtle or secret, he can just tease you. It doesn't matter.

He doesn't act that way in public, no. But he doesn't need to hide his wants, desires, intentions. No, Jon can work you up in seconds and just keep you dangling over a free fall all day long. It's in his words, they aren't filthy, but they are needy. He wants you and he tells you, but he won't take you. He saves it, and torments you with his own patience.

He some days, won't let you cum. Gets you right there, and takes it away. Sometimes more then once in a row, and many times, he will keep you like that for days. Some times he teases you all the same the next night, sometimes Jon takes your orgasm away at the last minute in one overwhelming night and will just leave you like that for a week.

He loves it. He loves keeping you that way, keeping you needy for him, that the second his voice rasps low in your ear, you shiver for him.

If teasing you in and out of the bedroom could be a feat worth crowning one of, Jon would've been a King months earlier.

Robb Stark:

Robb wishes he had the patience to tease you, he does. But he doesn't.

He does it in small doses, will yank you to him and whisper that he wants you naked in his bed when he returns or that he expects his good girl to show her king her appreciation later that night. But it doesn't tease beyond that really.

He prefers to take his time with you, and teasing you like that doesn't really fit into that mindset for Robb. If he wants you, he wants you then so why would he tease you for later? Part of it stems from how much you are by his side. Robb constantly has you beside him, often with a hand on you somewhere. Leaving a kiss to your hair, or a gentle kiss as he runs his thumb along your cheek in front of his men beacuse he needs you to breathe more then the air around him.

Robb doesn't want to tease you more then the little bit he does, he just wants you. And out in a war, there isn't a worse place he could think of to be a tease. He will work you up as much as it takes for you to know he wants you in his tent that night before it got too late to take care of you, but he has no patience for teasing beyond that. He already has you, he doesn't want to waste that time.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

If he and you are in the castle in Winterfell? Jon tries his best to be very quiet. He wasn't loud, more of a growl or a hiss at the sensation.

But sometimes a deep gutted groan could leave him, and that certainly was not common enough of a sound from Jon to pretend it wasn't for something filthy.

He had one trick though once he and you got comfortable enough. Jon would yank down the front of your dress, usually pulling your arms from it or unclasping it enough so it pooled around your waist, and occupy his growls or grunts with his mouth on your breasts. It was the most perverse thing the two of you would do, but it kept Jon quiet, while his other hand honestly? Well if his mouth wasn't hiding your high pitched, beautiful gasps and whines in his kiss, he'd reach a free hand up and roughly cover your mouth as you grasped at his wrist with both hands. Burying in each other to hide the sounds of your sinful secret together.

If you two were out in the wolfswood alone, it was a bit easier. Jon would let himself rumble deep, and freely encourage your breathless gasps with a gentle press of his lips over your cheek, forehead, neck, whatever he could reach.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Take that growling and grunting, and multiply it by a hundred. Jon once more, knows he no longer has any need to hide what you two do. No one cares that he has you in his bed, and so no one who could even hear through the thick stone walls that muffled much noise, would think twice.

They knew you two were together, it didn't matter now.

Jon could growl and hiss as you clenched tight and soaked around his cock, bite at your neck until he could rasp deep and strained in your ear, as he spoke the first things on his mind usually much more needy and filthy then he intended.

If he was trying to be discreet, he would bury his mouth into your neck with kisses, licks, bites, sucking rough bruises into the skin and it would cover the deep noises from within. But in turn it made you gasp and cry for him so loudly that everyone would hear anyways.

Jon wasn't really a talker, not with sex especially. The closer his orgasm got the more his heart rambled, but it wasn't intentional. He spoke from his deep desire for you with raw intense honesty. All in between rough breathing to keep him collected, only to feel that hiss or growl in his chest at how beautiful you felt around him.

If no one heard you two in low tones though, many would simply be able to hear the smack of skin as he fucked into you rough, or the hard bang of a table slamming against a wall, if he took you somewhere more public.

Robb Stark:

At the most dense, Robb has had an army camp of almost thirty thousand men at the start of the war, when he had joined with the River Lords. If someone had told him that all thirty thousand men had heard Robb and you fucking at night, he'd smirk with pride and say he hopes they got off nice and hard to how perfect you begged and pleaded for your Kings cock.

Robb is a talker in bed, he runs his mouth as filth pours out. In return, you cry and moan and beg for him, and it all is a harmony of filth that he knows so many men by now have heard from you and him.

Robb doesn't moan, he growls and he groans rough when he's deep inside of you, his voice normally warm and soothing dropping to a strained roughness that scratches at your ears as much as it soaks you between your legs as well. Robb knows just what to say to make you an obedient little mate, and he takes full advantage of that the entire night.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Jon Snow:

If the only thing Jon was allowed to do for the rest of his life was kiss you, he'd never have a single thing to complain about. Last life or this one, Jon was addicted to your lips.

The way they were so soft, moulded to his perfectly, how sweet they tasted and how much you let his tongue explore your mouth with strong desire. He adored having his lips on you somehow, and the only thing that changed one he came back was he could now do it without fear of being caught. But the love for it stayed the same.

Kissing foreheads was something he always did with everyone, his brothers and sisters and you, but what was different is how rare it was that he gave you any passing kiss alone. A brush of his hand, lingering too long and getting too close to your lips when he pulled back.

To Jon, kissing you is practically a hobby. He finds his lips to you in some way constantly, and if he's inside you then he adores keeping your lips pressed to his. He loves to cum deep inside you, keeping your lips trapped against his kiss. Jon wishes to hear your moans, and swallow them into his own mouth, just so he can lick into yours and demand more sounds gifted into him.

If Jon would be able to say he has one talent, he was confident enough to say he's quite a good kisser. And he wants all of that to go to none but you. Jon kisses you more, then an entire brothel of whores will kiss all their paying men in their entire lives.

Robb Stark:

Telling you now would be so unfair, he knew. If he said it now, the man wasn't there to defend himself or refute it, and beacuse of that, he didn't want such a comment to change your view of your best friend.

But Robb was not stupid. Robb was more observant then he was likely given credit for on this one, but it didn't bother him so he didn't bring it up to a soul, not him, and definitely not you.

He didn't know the true extend of how strong it was, or if he had feelings, or for how long he felt this way. Robb didn't know those details, but he knew without any doubt, that in one way or another, Jon Snow wanted you.

He had suspected it for a while since your last visit. The way Jon would look at you, was so much more then the man thought he was giving off. He was so brooding and grouchy the month before you arrived with the Kings company, and Robb truly felt bad. Here Jon was, desperately wanting to fuck you, his best friend, only to now watch you get married to Robb.

But now, Jon was at the wall, and you were Robbs wife. Telling you now would just be rude, and a breach of trust that Jon didn't know Robb had been holding onto. But the real thing that he wasn't saying, was that if for some miracle, Robb won the war, and brought you home to Winterfell, he had seriously considered it.

Either Robb would get lucky enough to find a way to bring his brother home where he belongs, or Jon would simply come visit, the way their Uncle Benjen came to visit their father. There was no harm, you were Robbs wife after all, that wasn't breaking a vow.

But Robb couldn't help but wonder, if he could at the least get Jon to come visit from the wall, he wondered how easy it would be to convince his brother to fuck you. Now, Robb wasn't just handing you over to his brother, but just maybe, Robb wondered, Jon might be open to sharing at least some parts of you, if just your body.

Robb held out hope he could bring you home one day, and just maybe, find enough in his jealous heart to share at least something of you with Jon. He was at the wall after all, and you were his best friend.

It wouldn't be much, but maybe the wall would be a little less lonely for his brother, if Jon were to go back with the freedom to know what it felt like to slide his cock into his best friend's sweet, soaking cunt, and more perversely, how it felt to willingly fuck his brothers wife.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Jon Snow:

Jon had an ongoing joke with Tormund, just taking any opportunity the free folk could find to make some comment about how small Jon was.

It had stemmed from a nickname which Tormund called him all of his own choosing anyways. The tall, lumbering man with wild orange hair, thick beard and loomed over most. He would joke and call Jon "Little Crow", and that turned right into jokes about his size. But in honesty, that was the furthest from the truth.

He didn't quite realize at first if he was well endowed, Jon having little to no interactions that would end up at discussing cock size, all he knew was the nights he'd help guide your clothed self over his covered cock, at his most hard Jon knew he would sometimes feel you shake, hold tightly onto his shoulders and try to hide the nervous exhale at the feeling. Well, if the free folk were anything, it was not shy about that sort of aspect of them. Only realizing internally that there weren't quite many who matched up to him.

He was long, yes. And it showed even when he wasn't at all hard, how long he was. But it was how thick his cock was that was the intimidating factor, at least in terms of fucking you. His cock was long, but adding just how shockingly thick his girth was, he always left a stinging burn when he slid inside you.

Jon was just lucky that you craved that very feeling as much as he wanted to give it to you.

Robb Stark:

Robb has a distinct memory of when he had sex for the first time, how the girl afterwards when getting dressed, made a comment that for someone whose never been inside a woman before, Robb knew how to use a cock like that.

At the time Robb just wanted to put his clothes on and leave, but she then kept going. Saying that most men with a big cock were idiots, and that Robb fucked like a man who was compensating for a small one but without the small part. He didn't care about that until he married you. Then suddenly, Robb was all too aware that yes, he was well endowed and knew how to fuck.

Because now you were his little innocent wife about to take her first cock, and it was long and thick. He had kept your eyes on his when he finally undressed so you didn't get intimidated, only to then make you watch as he slid inside you for the first time, so you understood how much you were taking inside you.

He knew you would feel that sting the next day constantly from his size, but that just meant Robb knew he needed to work you up and make you wet as could be to reduce the chance of his thick cock hurting rather then being a perfect pleasurable amount of pain.

Though, Robb would admit, he got off way too much at how wide his cock stretched your pretty mouth when you sucked him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Sex wasn't something he thought of all too often. Honestly, most of Jons sex drive in those days were also tied simply with how much he missed you.

He felt more worked up about being with you when you were in Kings Landing and he couldn't do a single thing about that. He never told you just how often he'd read your newest letter to him, sitting it on his desk, bracing one hand against the stone wall in front of him and stroking his cock with the other as he read it. Trying to hear your voice, pretend as if he knew what your hands on his cock would feel like, pretend he had any clue what being inside you could feel like.

He ruined a few of your letters with that habit, not that he ever said it to you. But it was just something desperate really. He felt lonely without you.

When you were in Winterfell, he wasn't that worked up. He knew his time with you had to be careful, and you two would enjoy the other to the fullest when you got away alone. But when you were gone, you weren't just the woman he loved. You were his best friend, and being in love with your best friend meant that a lot of how much he just missed you, ended up tying itself into how much he yearned to touch you.

You were so much more then just a woman he wanted to touch, but when you weren't there to calm him down with your mere comforting presence, Jon had no outlet but that.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If putting gold on it, Jon would say he doesn't have a high sex drive. And if he did bet on it, he would wind up being the poorest man in all the Seven Kingdoms.

It wasn't out of control, Jon had a strong drive and focus as a leader, but he could take you any time of the day. He didn't ever not want you. Jon could control his want when he needed to, and that was easy but the moment he could find any excuse to take advantage of your alone time, Jon felt his need clawing at his chest like an animal desperate to rut.

He fucked you quick during the day all the time, beacuse he was always just that ready to take you, always wanted you even when he was skilled at never showing it. He didn't want you thinking he just wanted to fuck you like an object, you weren't a whore in a brothel he wanted to use.

Jon absolutely adores you, but both your pasts have made sex something a bit strangely tied to how Jon shows he loves you. A lot of sexual trauma sat between you two, you from Ramsay, Jon from Ygritte but together you and him were learning to move forward and find a healing together. That just meant learning that Jon was a wolf with a ridiculously large appetite, but it was always with love.

He didn't want to be without you, and sometimes the only way Jon, a brooding, stoic man of not many words, knew how to express that was to taste you, kiss you, and fuck you. It was a way to express his feelings as well as move together past something that still deeply haunted you both in your own ways.

But if you asked him, Jon would say he doesn't have a high sex drive, and Tormund and Theon who have to stand there and watch how ridiculously turned on Jon would get around you constantly, would just glance at the other with an exasperated shake of their heads at Jons degree of denial.

Robb Stark:

It was a bit complicated, essentially, Robb only had much of a sex drive when he knew he had time.

First leading a war, then becoming their King and having so much of the Lannister regime fighting against him alone that he had to split his mind into two. If he was thinking about the war, he didn't want to distract himself, and you were a perfect Queen by his side and knew exactly when Robb wanted to focus.

But then at night, when it was quiet and Robb could have you all to himself, then he suddenly felt that drive come crashing through the walls of his tent and bombard him. Once alone, you worked Robb up to wanting to fuck you in seconds. You just had to look at him alone in your tent and Robb was already almost fully hard, you made it so easy.

Sun down to sun up, Robb wanted you again and again and he could think of nowhere else he wanted to be then with you, and inside of you. You were his perfect girl, and your drive matched his perfectly too. You always wanted each other at the same time, so once Robb wanted to fuck, you were ready to hand yourself over to his cock and his mercy or lack there of, depending on the day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon never slept very well. Always would either wake up and be unable to go back to sleep, or he couldn't fall asleep in the first place. And in truth, it left a lot of nights where all Jon wanted to do, was leave his room, go down the stairs to the corridors your room was in, and find his way into laying in bed with you. He'd imagine how gently he'd crawl in beside you, gently guiding you onto your side so he could pull your back against his chest and hold you tight.

But he couldn't do that, no matter what you two did, sexual or otherwise, as soon as you and Jon were with the other, falling asleep in the others bed was a bad idea. You or him would gravitate into the others gentle embrace fast asleep too unplatonically to explain it away should one of his siblings walk in.

Which Jon hated, considering during your first visit to Winterfell, you sometimes had difficult nights you couldn't sleep or a windy storm would blow through the castle and more then once you'd find your way to Jons room asking if it was alright if you slept in there, you feeling a bit nervous being in that corridor all alone.

So now, Jon would spend his nights with you, exploring you, kissing you and he'd have to part ways to sleep separately and he never slept more then 5 hours at the most after that. He missed having you close too much.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon still didn't sleep well if you weren't there.

His bed too cold, his arms with nothing to pull tenderly into his chest, he couldn't lean over and press a tender kiss to your sleeping lips beacuse you were too beautiful to resist. He wanted you in his arms at night.

But when you two would fuck, Jon willingly didn't sleep for a while after as well. He'd run his hands gentle along you until you fell asleep, then he'd switch between watching you in more peace then you ever looked in your waking hours, or running his hands along your bare skin beacuse he loved how soft you were under his rough, large hands. On nights he wore you out particularly rough, you'd fall asleep so easily and he loved doing that for you.

You had nightmares now, more then you were ever willing to admit, and the more exhausted Jon made you with his cock, the better you slept after. And Jon liked to hold you, watch you sleep and ensure he was keeping you safe even now from the horrors in your own mind. And only when you had been quiet and peaceful for a good half hour to an hour, would Jon finally fall asleep.

You were the most vulnerable when you slept in his arms, and Jon was there to protect you. And he just liked staying awake to do that, getting some time to himself to admire you blatantly without you getting flustered over his loving gaze for so long.

Robb Stark:

Robb only slept well with you twice since marrying you.

Both of those times when you were in his bed in Winterfell after becoming his wife. Robbs room was decorative and the fabrics draped around kept the heat in well so it was always cozy in there, and under the furs of his bed. Robb never treasured a nights sleep more then the only two times so far he had in his bed with you as his wife.

He slept terribly in the war. Some nights he was so busy you couldn't even convince him to come and sleep at all, and you'd have to try again the next night. So when it was all said and done, Robb would lay with you asleep in his arms and be awake for a while. Longer then he was honest with you about.

He'd run through war strategy day after day, and at night try and piece together the life he wanted to bring you home to once this was all over. You didn't sleep well either, but as long as Robb fucked you, you slept better then he did and so he'd do it every night if it were that easy. When he did sleep, it was more what he wanted, being in bed with you in his arms, but Robb never got as much sleep as he would have, should he be able to bring you home safely to Winterfell.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine

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cbrownjc · 8 months ago

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Some spoiler thoughts for episode 2x05

I haven't done a rewatch yet, so these are just some initial thoughts on the episode (spoilers):

Daniel was so not let go after those 3 days. Bank on it.

Daniel already said it -- the drug den thing was a fabrication of his memories being rewritten. But, more to it, Louis' memories of that time were also rewritten. Between that as well as his extensive burn? Who knows what Louis even remembers of the 1970s either.

Neither Louis nor Daniel remember a damn thing of what happened during what would be the Devil's Minion period! (Particually because who knows how long it took Louis to even heal. With those types of burns, I'm going to say a few years at least.)

The show left things extremely open-ended for both Daniel and Louis' characters at the end of the flashbacks which can be filled with whatever the show writers might have ideas about that time period over how many whatever seasons. They haven't locked themselves into one single thing going forward leaving it open-ended that way.

Yeah, even if they want Louis and Daniel to have had sex sometime later. Because again, they both don't remember anything. 😏

But Armand -- Armand does. He remembers all of it. And oh you dear, f-ed up gremlin, I really did think you might not have been responsible for Daniel's memories, but now I'm starting to wonder . . . .

Louis, in 1973, doing what he does in Merrick. Because it was remembering Claudia -- how she manipulated him -- that sent him running into the sun. And even though he tried -- and failed -- to do it in 1973, he's going to fully remember it in the present day too IMO and, this time, he'll succeed at doing it.

Because yes, in Merrick, Louis actually succeeds in killing himself. It's only because of how vampire blood works, and a lot of it being poured over Louis' body, that he is revived. And I really think we are headed toward a "rule of three" wrt this. I think Armand clocked Louis was close to killing himself sometime directly after Paris because of maybe almost really trying so, and that is why Armand put a veil up over Louis' mind.

Because even back in 1973 it's clear that Louis actually didn't remember the bit about Claudia until he drank Daniel's drugged-up blood! Between that and Arman directly saying "She didn't love you!" (which yes, was a line taken directly from toward the end of the IWTV book that Armand says to Louis about Claudia), whatever cloud Louis was actually under in 1973 lifted for a bit . . . enough for him to run out into that sun and almost succeeded -- which I feel we'll learn/see was actually his second attempt.

His third (and final) attempt will be in the finale. And that time will be the one that succeeds. (And then he'll be resurrected/reborn).

"Am I going to be on suicide watch for the next 1000 years?" Yeah, Armand, it looks very well that you are -- will be.

I loved Luke as young Daniel! And I feel very sure we're going to see more of him. He and Jacob had such a bouncy chemistry.

And oh, the scenes between him and Assad as Armand -- so creepy and sinister! Just what it should be at this point in time between Daniel and Armand, at the beginning of things. They even had Daniel held prisoner in the house for three days, the same length of time he was held in the cage in the books. But everything Armand did to Daniel here was so much more unnerving, particularly the chair thing.

So . . . Armand really didn't know the Talamasca was watching then? Hmm, okay show but I'm side-eyeing that one. Because really, he should have IMO.

Though I did notice that Daniel strategically didn't show Louis the pictures of him and Armand taking Daniel out of the house. Which I still don't think makes any freakin' sense, them doing it the way they did, even with Louis being hurt like that. I supposed Louis wanted to make sure Armand didn't hurt Daniel still, but . . . .

And oh, Armand. I can see any and all attempts to defend you wrt what is coming have really slipped away much after this. I know why you are doing all of this, I get it I do, but . . . *sigh*

You should have told Louis that Lestat was saying, "I love you." But you are still so scared of being alone . . . this is all going to bite you back next season Armand. So, so much.

Would I say it's my most favorite episode of the show ever so far? Not yet. But I known it's the one of Season 2 that I'm going to rewatch over and over the most so far. Yes, I love it for the beginning of Devil's Minion that it gave us, of course. But I love that it also really started to show the friendship and trust that Rolin Jones kept saying last season was between Louis and Daniel. Louis and Daniel just being friends is something I never expected going into the show and has become such a favorite dynamic of mine too.

So yeah, it was a wonderful episode. I do think it was hyped up a bit too much in the "most disturbing thing I've ever seen" department because I actually did not find it to be all that disturbing in the horror department. But as far as character development and dynamic building goes it was stellar and revealed some great things, so I can ignore my little nitpicks.

#Daniel Molloy #Louis de Pointe du Lac #Armand #The Vampire Armand #Devil's Minion #The Devil's Minion #Interview with the Vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv #iwtv spoilers

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corazondebeskar-reads · 1 year ago

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toni's fanfic masterlist

a collection of all of my fic, mostly ft. Din Djarin and Joel Miller

Key: 🏴 = dark, 💕 = fluff, ⛓ = bdsm, 💀 = dead dove do not eat

18+ ONLY, minors DNI. All fics on this list are explicit and f!reader unless otherwise stated.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

last updated: 10/25/2024

Din Djarin

Series

⛓💕 well it's love, make it hurt

(Complete, dom!Din Djarin x f!reader)

summary: After The Mandalorian begrudgingly teamed up with you for a big-ticket bounty, you find you work surprisingly well together, and you propose a short-term partnership. Weeks become months, and your hunting partnership becomes muddled as you explore a new dynamic onboard the Razor Crest.

🏴 live to rise

(complete; gladiator!Din Djarin x f!reader)

summary: The Last of the Mandalorians have fallen; their Mand'alor captured. Stripped of his armor, his weapons, his people. Din rises to fight another day, grasping onto the hope that his son still lives.

No fighter has won their freedom from the Empire's arena before. With the help of a servant girl, can he hope to break free?

One Shots

don't let me get carried away

summary: Mando finds the toy you use when he's gone and makes you demonstrate.

for Manda'yaim (Din Djarin x f!reader x Paz Vizsla)

summary: Now that they have reclaimed their homeworld, the Children of the Watch resurrect an ancient ritual to secure the future of their people. Reader is one of the volunteers chosen to bear the next generation of Mando'ade.

🏴💀 worry not

summary: Mand'alor Din Djarin is haunted by the Darksaber, and you suffer the consequences.

💕 mhi ba'juri verde

summary: After Din is crowned Mand'alor, you make good on your promise to fulfill the rest of your vows.

🏴 ori'skraan

summary: The Mand'alor needs to feed to regain his strength, so you are called upon to fulfill the most sacred of your duties.

🏴💀I'll take care of you

summary: Din takes care of you after a head injury leaves you helpless.

stuck in a lonely loop

summary: Din can't let go of the feeling that something's wrong, even if you deny it.

🏴nobody is coming to save you

summary: You get caught by a Mandalorian bounty hunter after fleeing your marriage.

something worse

summary: you're an imperial officer loyal to moff gideon — until a run in with the mandalorian and his weird magic baby.

💕 fine

summary: din takes care of you when you get sick.

Din Djarin x reader x Boba Fett

copaani gaan? (Din Djarin x f!reader x Boba Fett)

summary: Din catches you blushing after Boba Fett flirts with you. He instigates and encourages you to fuck Fett while he watches.

mhi me'dinui an and prequel (Din Djarin x f!reader x Boba Fett x Cobb Vanth)

summary: After the events of The Book of Boba Fett, you get railed by Din Djarin, Boba Fett, and Cobb Vanth.

Joel Miller

Series

🏴💀 all I did was what I had to (complete; dark!Joel x f!reader)

summary: this is a series of snapshots following dark!raider/hunter!Joel Miller and f!reader, who he saves from her abusive spouse for a slightly better situation. It's very dark and so far all the parts involve watersports, if that's your kind of thing.

you know you never stood a chance (complete; qz!Joel x f!reader)

summary: When your neighbor Joel finds out you've resorted to prostitution to make ends meet, he makes sure he's your first client, and proposes a different deal.

ain't no rest for the wicked (complete; tess x f!reader x joel)

summary: Joel would never complain about what he and Tess have. The only thing is that, sometimes, he’d like to be the one in control. Tess has a proposition: she’ll find a sub for Joel that they can both enjoy. It’s not an easy feat... until they stumble upon you in a dark alley.

🏴💀 the art of breaking (mini-series)

summary: Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

🏴of rage and ruin (ongoing; werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader)

summary: Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though.

fall, with you (complete; mini-series)

summary: to love fall. to fall in love. to fall, with you. a burgeoning romance with joel miller. a collection of autumns long past. the end of the world. falling, falling, falling, with you.

🏴💀⛓ how to break a girl in ten easy steps (mini-series)

summary: joel miller is a lonely old man, but he likes it that way. he has everything he needs: a nice piece of property in the woods, a cozy cabin, and plenty of cash. there is one thing missing, though. one thing he needs that he can't give himself.

One Shots

🏴💀 the devil you don't know (or however it goes)

summary: When Joel's men bring back the (adult) daughter of a rival group of hunters, he sees an opportunity. This is VERY dark.

-- the aftermath (by demand; my thoughts on the possible endings. i stand by the original though.)

💕 a home amongst the stars

summary: Joel gets home after a late patrol and finds solace in your warm body.

💕 to know that you're mine

summary: Joel Miller is a pussy eating king with a praise kink. That's it, that's the fic. sub!Joel if you squint.

remember what you're staring at is me

summary: A videotape is left on your porch one morning, and it changes everything about your budding relationship with Joel Miller.

drabbles/ficlets

🏴💀 too much

summary: you never know when to shut up.

🏴 not enough

summary: a companion to "too much;" it's rough sex and choking with Joel. that's it, that's the fic.

🏴💀no one could save me but you

summary: You're under the care of Dr. Miller at an inpatient mental health facility. He has a vested interest in your "recovery."

🏴💀seasons don't

summary: Your husband dies a hero, but it's no comfort to you.

🏴💀no loyalty in the apocalypse

summary: Your group falls victim to Joel Miller's hunters.

💕 let's all go to the lobby

summary: a date night with joel miller

💕 could be

summary: jackson is not your home. joel miller is not your boyfriend. but they could be.

💀 get some on my love

summary: you visit Joel Miller to get what you need.

Honorable Mentions: Events

(most of these are in the other sections but if you want to read through in order, there's this.)

Kinktober 2023

Febuwhump 2024

#joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fic #din djarin x f!reader #dom din djarin #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfic #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #joel miller x f!reader

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violetsiren90 · 9 months ago

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New Rules | Teaser

Table of Cotents: Teaser (Prologue); Don't pick up the phone; Don't let him in

Pairing: f*ck boi!Jisung x f!Reader

Genre: choose your own adventure; drabble/vignette series; angst and smut; f*ck buddies; college/post grad

Summary: Jisung has had you wrapped around his finger for the last half-decade. You know good and well that it's time to move on…but you can never seem to follow your own rules long enough to shake him.

*Based on the lyrics of "New Rules" by Dua Lipa

Content warnings: 18+ (minors, dni) Explicit smut; toxic relationship; Jisung is a manipulative little shit (There will be specific trigger warning for each update); For prologue: undressing, kissing, necking, dry humping, groping, fondling, Jisung has been drinking; lots of negative emotions and psychological conflict, raw LUST.

Word Count: Each drabble will probably around 1500-3000 words; total number of drabbles undetermined.

Author's Note: This is gonna be my fun little side project while I work on a my heavy chapter fic! Another one of my attempts at trying new things this year - a choose your own adventure centering around toxic romance. 😈💔🥀 Each update will have a poll at the end which will determine where the next drabble goes. The readers will literally be deciding the trajectory of this story! If you would like to participate throughout the series, let me know in the comments and I will add you to the tag list for updates!

As always, if no one has told you today, please know that you're loved, and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Prologue:

(first poll below)

His hand finds the tack fastener on the front your jeans, and as he slips it deftly through the buttonhole with his finger and his thumb you feel a familiar chill creep into your chest. One little motion and it’s as if he snuffs out an invisible flame inside of you. And yet, you want them there, his fingers on the wick.

Tasting the liquor on his tongue, you pull away to press your lips below his jaw and against the thrum of his pulse point. You can feel from the force and urgency of his nimble hands as they skirt and grasp your form after peeling away your pants that it’s going to be quick and dirty. It always is, every time you cross the blurred boundaries of your friendship into the realm of carnal pleasure.

It never starts that way, though.

It starts with fingers gently lacing through your own, large pleading eyes full of innocence that dip to your lips and kindle darkly with lust…and then a kiss; one you’ve nearly starved for craving. That’s always how it starts.

But then, eventually and inevitably, you feel it - the sudden shift. The moment he drops the pretense with a simple word or touch that falls like an executioner's axe over the feeble hope that you so relentlessly resurrect.

He lets out a soft little whimper, tilting his head back to bare more of the skin of his throat, and just as quickly as the first flame extinguished, another licks through your viens. You scrape your teeth over his smooth, taut flesh and you feel him tremble beneath you. If just for a few moments, drenched in the scent of cheap booze and the pallid lens of moonlight, he’s yours for the taking.

And you want him, but fuck him. You hate him for pretending to care about you every single time when all he cares about is how you can make him feel. You hate yourself for how you let it consume your flesh and seep into your soul - the feeling that you are the only one who can bring him to that place between the planes of reality in which he finds deliverance through your body.

You pin his shoulders back against the headboard roughly, lascivious eyes drinking in his expression as it contorts with the intensity of his gratification at the plush, rhythmic pressure of your mound over the knot in his jeans. Thin cotton and rough denim massaging one another and at the friction growing damp.

A dance that you've memorized.

Another piece of your being chips away, as it does each time you relent to the greed of his hands and mouth, and a shiver slithers down your spine as his beautiful fingers slip up your shirt to grope at your breast.

When was the last time you felt truly whole? When, outside of the minutes of breathless darkness when he fills you?

~To be continued~

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anyamaris · 1 year ago

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Chasing Fate

Word Count- 4k

Summary- When you find yourself running behind, fate draws you into a random coffee shop where a dark figure takes an otherworldly interest in you.

Pairing- Falling Angel!Soobin x writer!fem!reader

Genre/Trope-Strangers to Lovers AU, Fated Lovers AU smut

Warnings- Vulgarity, sexual language, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving) stalking behavior, darker themes (I mean, he is a fallen angel), possessive talk, minors DNI 18+

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark@millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions@changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

A/N-Thank you to @mint-yooxgi for SOOOO much of this, from helping to develop Fallen Angel Soobin to some of the terms of endearment as well as supporting me every step of the way. @1-800-shedevil for beta reading and being my biggest hype sister. I adore you both so very much and love how much you support me. BIG KISSES!

The chime above the door rings through the small, cozy space as customers come and go throughout the day. Day in, day out. The murmur of voices, the grinding sound of roasted beans, the soft hiss of the frother as the baristas create some concoction or another. The daily dose of the bitter brew is the ultimate cure for the constant stream of half asleep zombies, each heading off to spend their day doing something productive.

It had been long since the figure in the corner had felt the urge to rush off to a destination like the steady parade of faceless figures he observes. His stoic face unimpressed as he studies his colony of ants, plodding along to fulfill some small happiness within their short, sad lives.

How he envied them.

It has been ages since his fall to this achromatic pit, a perpetual purgatory of anemic grey tormenting his wretched soul. How could these mindless drudges laugh, smile, delight in something as simple as a steaming mug of espresso and milk? The inability to even stoke the fire of a mild irritation causes him to sigh, his hands having long bled the warmth from his own cup as he sits watching.

His world is upended in the span of a second.

The chime of a bell.

In the countless instances he’s heard that incessant ringing, this is the only one that matters as time seems to grind to a halt. A cool breeze carries the scent of warm, buttery honey with a hint of floral citrus to balance the richness. The aroma threatens to overwhelm him, long forgotten sensations stirring. The potent shock of the resurrection of his emotions choke him, his hand unconsciously clasping his chest as he struggles to endure the assault. Only a moment ticks by as the scent reaches him, then he’s frozen in time as his world fills with color. Infinite shades of red inundate his sight, dark eyes locked onto the beautiful creature poised at the door, the curve of a smile in that rosy mantle sending a shockwave through his system.

The melodic tinkling of a small laugh shatters the tentative control he has over himself. An aria cuts through the symphony of noise he’s endured for ages. A singular voice reviving his entire being.

His long atrophied heart seems to give out a painful shriek at the potent rush of his lifeblood. The silent struggle of the shadow figure in the corner of the small cafe goes unnoticed, but for him, it’s as if he’s been resurrected, awakening from the tedium of his purgatory. It was only a moment.

The moment that alters his entire existence.

The moment he saw you.

The moment passes, and he can only cling to his teetering sanity, watching as you order your coffee. You are exquisite, radiant beyond comprehension. The curve of your neck causes him to tremble. The lilt of your voice a sonata made for him alone, kindling his very soul.

Your scent wakes him from his endless slumber, the sight of you defibrillating his long withered heart. The sound of your laughter cuts through the never ending drone that surrounds him. The world falls away around him and he can only see you.

His dark eyes blacken as he watches you leave, taking the cosmos with you. Abandoning him in the frigid, ceaseless void he’s been condemned to. As your warmth seeps from the cafe, he stands, his purpose clear.

His hands clench as the need to touch you takes over his reason, longing for the sensation of your silky flesh in his palms. His mouth salivates at the thought of your essence on his tongue. There is no other purpose anymore. He has only one objective, one singular desire.

You are his only aspiration now. You are his holy grail.

And he must have you.

You were late, again. Always running late. But you had to have your morning coffee. You have a meeting with a writer in a different location and it threw you off this morning, but you’d spotted a decent looking coffee shop on the way. Luckily it hadn’t taken long to get in and out, and then you were on your way to your appointment.

“Slow down speed racer, your writer isn’t even here yet!” you hear someone yell and you just breathe out a sigh of relief, slowing down to relax for a moment before you make your way to the conference room. Between your editing job with the company as well as being a writer yourself, you were always on the go or lost in your head in front of a computer screen. Settling into your seat as your writer makes their way in, you just throw yourself into your workday.

By the time you’re opening your apartment door and kicking off your shoes that evening, you’re beyond exhausted. You’d wanted nothing more than to shower and get a warm cup of something soothing and just lose yourself in your current story. But after bathing and throwing on your comfy pajamas, your eyes are already drooping. “Tomorrow…I’ll wake up early and write in the morning….” You murmur to the empty space, and before another thought can form, the bliss of sleep was washing over you.

Your sleep was deep but restless, and as you sink into the haze of dreams you find yourself in a dark alley. There’s no sign of life around, not the scurry of a rat, nor the bustle of any vehicles; none of the noise you’d hear deep inside the city. The silence is eerie as you look around, but there’s a red glowing light surrounding you, almost as if you can see your own aura. Confused but curious, you make your way out of the alley into the empty street.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” you call out, and a warm breeze suddenly stirs the trash littering the alley around you, the rough scraping sound startling you.

“Yessss….”

The velvet utterance brushes against your senses, so much weight and significance behind the simple note as it engulfs your entire being. A shiver runs down your spine as the heat of the word seems to caress your skin delicately. With a gasp, you spin around and face…nothing.

“Who..are you?” you whisper, walking slowly down the bleak passage. Your arms are outstretched, reaching for the owner of the bewitching voice, even knowing that they should be drawing in around yourself.

“Yours.”

The statement halts your breathing, the sheer power behind it almost knocking you to the ground. “What-?” you begin, but a pressure halts your question, as electricity fills the air around you. Force seems to bear down upon your soul as the rustling of wings and the muffled thump of boots on the pavement resonate behind you. As you turn, your vision is filled with a large figure, massive black wings spanning your entire field of view. The silhouette of a towering man steps towards you, hand extending towards you.

“Come to me…”

The voice seems to echo in your head as you sit up, gasping for air and clutching your chest, the damp garment clinging to your skin. You can swear you hear the rustling once more of those massive wings from outside your window and a shiver wracks your body. Not in fear…no…not in fear…

“Where are you?” you sigh, fingers reaching out into the darkness. An overwhelming feeling of loss settles over you in the quiet room, the distant sounds of the city waking up cutting through the haze of the predawn light. Falling back against your pillows, you close your eyes, wondering why your dream affected you so much; why you longed to go back into your dreams to find the winged being who called out to you.

Days filled with writing, editing, and working. Rushing to and fro, the bustle of the city around you fueling your mornings and afternoons into the early evening. But it was the nighttime that you longed for; the dip of the sun below the horizon, the twilight’s call for your eyelids to drop. For your slumber to overtake you so you can get one more glimpse of your mysterious stalker, your shadowy suitor. Deep down you know that running from him is the correct response, yet his presence in your dreams inspires only an intense yearning, a hidden desire to be claimed by him. For him to assert his dominion, to step forward into the light so you may give yourself to him.

Always upon waking, you find yourself continuing to look for him, though he exists only in your fantasies. Perhaps your writing was bleeding into your subconscious and you just needed to bring him to life through your work.

Perhaps.

The weeks turn to months and you desperately urge him from the shadows, calling to him through your words on paper, the pages on your computer screen. Yet he eludes you, defying your every tactic to reveal himself. Never have you struggled with a character as much as you have him. He didn’t even have a name.

The more you write, the more you need to know him. To see him, to feel him, to hear his voice again.

To touch him.

Days filled with longing for the night, the anticipation of his nocturnal visit your primary goal. For just one more night filled with his enigmatic presence, eyes closing eagerly for the imminent appearance of your winged obsession.

A mania seems to be overtaking your mind, almost distraught at his elusiveness as you give in to your exhausted slumber.

Yet another dream, the same dream, time and time again. As you wake clutching your chest, you let out a mournful cry. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?! You’re not even real!” your voice is thick with agony, a throbbing ache in your heart as well as between your legs.

“Am I not?”

The velvet tone causes you to freeze in sudden fear as your curtains flutter, drawing your gaze. A soft laugh washes over your entire being as you focus on the large dark figure on your balcony. “I am as real as your desire for me.” At your startled cry, the figure takes a step into the doorway. He appears as massive as he is in your dreams and you can’t help but recognize the shiver of excitement under the thin veneer of fear.

“You-you’re….this is a dream.” You tell the shadow gazing at you, vulnerable and alone in your bed. Slipping from beneath the covers, you stand on shaking legs, telling yourself to run but…all your feet want to do is move towards him. “This isn’t rea-” Your statement is cut short as the man…or whatever he was is suddenly in front of you, arms to either side, encasing you against the wall.

Your heart feels as if it’s trembling in your chest cavity and his instant proximity has you quivering. You hadn’t even seen him move. “What-” your voice cracks and you swallow, trying once more. “What do you want?” You stare into his eyes, his features now visible. Dark hair that frames his beautiful face, eyes black and gleaming in the moonlight. His plush lips form a smile as his lashes flutter, a soft laugh emanating from his throat. Velvet and honey with a slight edge, you can’t help but feel yourself react to him. Clenching your thighs together, you let out a small whimper.

His pause is heavy with significance as he seems to inhale you, his nostrils gently flaring, his lips parting on an audible exhale. “What is it I want?” he asks, head tilting as his eyes open, capturing your gaze in his. It seems a galaxy of stars have taken up residence in them and you long to explore their infinite depths. “You ask the wrong question, my precious one.” his tone lowers even more as he brings his lips to your ear, the sensation of his breath eliciting an involuntary moan.

“It is not what I want ... .but whom. That I am here with you should answer that quite succinctly.” His words wash over you like a wildfire, your entire being, your very soul screaming for his touch. “It seems I am not alone in my yearning.” He chuckles softly. “I can smell your desire, beloved.” Your cheeks burn at his words but there is no way to refute them. The moisture pooling at your core defies any argument you try to form against him.

“You can…smell…me?” you manage, throat working desperately, palms planted to the wall behind you. Yet, despite how near he is, he’s not laid one single finger on you. This fact should calm your racing heart, yet it only serves to accelerate the pace. Instead of answering your question he merely draws in another deep breath, letting out a small purr to agitate your already frenzied senses.

“Are you-are you here to…hurt me?” you whisper and the sudden hiss as he draws back to look at you sends a shock through your system. His eyes almost swallow you whole as his entire body seems to shake. “The very thought of harm coming to you pains me in ways you cannot comprehend.” The honeyed voice is now as sharp as a razor's edge, yet your thirst for him only increases at his words. “I would rend flesh from any being who so much as dares to consider such a vile thought.”

“I simply long to touch you…to press my lips to yours…to hold your precious hand in mine. You’ve captured my very soul with your existence, and I am yours to command.” As you quake at his confession, he sinks to one knee before you, his heavenly face tipped up to gaze at you. “I will not lay a single finger upon you without your permission, despite my overwhelming longing for you.”

This must be a dream, you think to yourself as you take in his form, crouched before you, glorious eyes begging for you to accept him. Slowly raising your palm from the wall, you find yourself reaching for him, tipping your hand to bring your palm to his cheek. The breath he lets out at your touch is filled with relief, as a man dying of thirst takes his first sip of water. He vibrates under the simple caress of your hand, as if the connection has completed some broken electrical current.

“If I allow you to touch me, what then?” you find yourself asking, and his body stills, a pressure seeming to fill the room. Ever so slowly you watch his large black wings unfurl as he stands to his full, commanding height. You can only watch in awe as the massive appendages loom over you, as he splays his large hand, palm out towards you. “You would be granting this fallen angel sanctuary in his endless tormented existence. To be granted your warm embrace would be the ultimate solace to my anguished continuance. For this…for you alone, I would bestow upon you any treasure, fulfill every hunger, lay the very world at your feet, if you so crave it.”

“And if my only want is you, and you alone?” you dare to ask, your breath hitching, throat closing tightly as you watch the tremor in his extended hand at your words. His lashes flutter as his tongue darts out over his bottom lip, hooded eyes never leaving yours. “Then it is I who would be receiving the most priceless of treasures in you, for you are the world in my eyes.”

True to his word, even though you can feel the room itself almost vibrate with his energy, he has not disturbed one hair on your head. He merely watches you with an infinite patience that defies the intensity of his gaze. Time appears to stop as you consume the picture of this dark angel in front of you, this beautiful heavenly being offering you your every desire. For the longest moment you just savor his form, pure radiance illuminated by the white light of the moon haloing him.

Without a word you step forward, raising your hand palm out to press to his, staring into the endless abyss of his eyes. “You may have me, take me, touch me, taste me in any way you so wish if you answer one simple question for me.” you breathe out, the tingle of your skin against his drawing out a small gasp. “Ask and it shall be yours.” No hesitation, only the eager urge to please as he observes you.

“I wish to know your name.” you breathe out, your fingers interlacing with his. His eyes close slowly, and he sighs out heavily, a tremor rippling through the length of his body. “You may call me Soobin.” tumbles off his lips a moment before they are upon yours, his arm wrapping around your waist to tug you into him. “Soobin-” you gasp into his mouth and he hums in delight as you let go of his hand to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.

“How I’ve longed to hear you say my name, My Light.” his breath mixes with yours as his tongue plunges into your mouth, free hand dipping to cup your ass and press himself into you. It’s obvious he’s large in every aspect as he lifts and you wrap your legs around him. The moan that escapes your throat is full of need as he grinds himself into your core, eliciting a sharp gasp from him. Before you can register, your panties are torn from your body, leaving you only wearing the flimsy shirt you’d gone to bed in. “Oh-please touch me, please fucking touch me-” you are crying out, and he complies immediately his long fingers on your ass brushing against your weeping slit as he presses his clothed crotch to your sensitive nub. The friction of his pants against you tears a moan from your lips, and his mouth is eager to receive it.

“Anything for you, anything you want-” he groans as his fingers tease at your entrance, his mouth trailing kisses down your chin, to your jawline and along your neck. Your hips have a mind of their own, jerking and writhing as he spreads your pussy from behind. “So fucking soaked, My Precious….” he growls into your neck, sharp teeth brushing your pulse. “Soobin!” you cry as he pulls back, his hands withdrawing to grasp your thighs, almost sobbing at the loss. But before you can so much as utter another word, he’s on his knees before you, throwing your thighs over his shoulders. “My tongue longs for your taste-” he hisses, then he’s burying his face into you, overwhelming you with a flood of pleasure.

You can feel his fingers, spreading you apart, your wet folds sucked into his mouth as his nose nudges your clit. Immediately your hands are in his hair, tugging as you cry out his name. The wet noises of his tongue as he laps at you, then draws back to suck eagerly on your aching bud have your thighs trembling as he holds you in place. “You taste better than ambrosia, My Light, I could drink from you for eternity-” his whispered voice only adds to the intensity as you feel the familiar burn of your impending orgasm building. “Oh Soobin-” you moan out and his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, his tongue slipping inside of you as his nose rubs your clit.

The moment his tongue enters you, you can’t hold back any longer and you’re screaming and bucking in his arms, flooding his tongue and face with your climax. He lets out pleased noises as he holds you in place, indulging himself in every last drop before he finally presses a kiss to your bud. He stands and lifts your limp body gently, moving to splay you out on the bed. Removing your shirt with a tug, he sheds his own clothes quickly before climbs between your legs, his long thighs parting yours. You rake your eyes over his long, lean body, still quivering with the after effects of his mouth, opening easily to him as he hovers over you.

The urgency of your desire for him is so profound that you feel tears prick your eyes, reaching for him in desperation as he settles his weight onto you. “Please, please-oh I need you-please-” the endless pleading falling from your lips darkens his eyes, his lip in his teeth as he slides his long length against your dripping cunt. “You’re mine, my precious love. My Light, My Heart, My Soulmate-” he whispers softly as he shifts his hips, drawing back to position his cockhead to press against your tight opening. “Yours-take me, I’m yours, please-” His hand grasps yours as he grips the sheets in the other, your hips lifting to add to the needy cries.

His gaze holds yours as he pushes forward into you, his thick girth stretching as his lips part in a moan. “Yes! Oh please-” you cry out, and a ragged moan rips from his throat as he thrusts forward, burying his cock to the hilt within you. “Don’t stop!” You scream and he complies, hips drawing back to snap back into you, his moans and cries harmonizing with yours. The sting and burn of his girth stuffing you full only adds to the insane rapture, making you whole. As if without him you were an unfinished puzzle and he is the final piece.

You take in his glorious features, his lust glazed eyes as he thrusts into you, his beautiful parted lips, his massive wings a canopy over you as if he’s shielding you both from the world. On a whim, you drop your fingers to work at the muscles of his back where the wings protrude and he lets out a musical medley of moans and cries, his hips rolling as he plunges faster and harder. Your entire body is on fire, every touch, every breath of his raging across your nerves, your nipples tightening as you arch your back.

“More, more, more, I want to hear you sing for me-” you gasp and he starts to tremble as you clutch a wing in each hand, his cries only swelling in volume as he drops down to claim your mouth with his. Your thumbs knead along the muscle of his wings and his hips begin to stutter as you tip your hips up, the friction of his body pressing against your clit. The tight coil deep within you threatens to shatter as his breathing hitches, his mouth torn from yours on a long moan. “Everything, give me everything, come in me, fill me, Soobin-Complete me-”

His eyes meet yours and you gasp at the pure white swirling in them as he parts his lips to let out a strained cry, choking on his moan as he tips you over the edge with him. Your strangled cries blend with his in a symphony of bliss; you feel him burst within you as you clamp around him, clenching and pulsing together as you both let go. Waves of pleasure wash over you as he empties himself, your tight walls milking him dry before he finally collapses on you, his head pressed into your neck. His irregular breaths puff against your skin, the sensation causing you to clench around him again, drawing out a whimper as he wraps his arms around you.

“Mine. All mine.” he rasps out and you just run your fingers through his silky hair, sighing in contentment. “You belong to me now, as I belong to you.” he whispers, drawing back and cradling your face in his palm. A warm rosy glow surrounds you both, seeming to pulse in time with your matching heartbeats.

“At long last, I’ve found my heaven on earth, and I’ll never let you go.”

#cultofdionysusnet #ksmutsociety #soobin smut #choi soobin smut #soobin au #choi soobin au #txt soobin smut #txt choi soobin smut #txt smut #mochamadness:theperfectpair23

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lerulpes · 3 months ago

Text

to the end (f!Rook x Emmrich)

Got really sad about his "you'll outlive me" dialogue/quarrel, so. Something about outliving a loved one. Bit of spoilers about Manfred. Angst and barely no comfort.

The Grand Necropolis air was colder than Jezebel remembered. Although the winds howled somewhere in the distance, it felt like time has stopped where she was standing, and the stiff cold was suffocating her.

As Emmrich always said, death comes when you least expect it. A sudden strike - and there is nothing. A few days ago, they were a happy family, today she and Manfred are burying him. How convenient of him, she thought to herself, to die here in Nevarra and not anywhere else.

On his last day he was giving a lecture on some metaphysical topic - Jezebel couldn't really remember it, it was all a blur now. She was working in her office when some kid showed up at her doorstep and tried to catch their breath.

"What the..." she murmured, raising her eyes at the student. She recognised their face. "You're from Emmrich's group, aren't you?"

"Mistress Ingellvar... you need... to go..."

"Goddamn it, what happened?" Jezebel approached the student.

"Professor... he..." the kid couldn't say what Jezebel feared they wanted to say.

The woman ran out of her cabinet to where the lecture was held. No, not now, not like that! When she reached the room, she saw him prostrate on the floor, students crowded around. Jezebel ordered them to step away. She fell on the floor beside her husband and caressed his face.

Emmrich opened his eyes, not really focusing on anything but his wife. "Jezebel," his voice was weak, almost a whisper. "You came." He managed to smile, reaching out his hand to caress Jezebel's face in return. When he touched her cheek, he felt the wet treks of her tears.

"How could I not?" Jezebel said sobbing. Every bit of make up she put on her face in the morning now was running down with the tears.

"I'm afraid, dearest," Emmrich coughed, "that my Watch is done." With these words a new wave of tears erupted from Jezebel's eyes. "Don't cry for me, my dear. Stay strong. And take care of Manfred for me, please."

Jezebel sobbed. "I will, love," she kissed Emmrich's hand.

"That's my girl."

His breath grew more shallow with each passing moment, as grew the stream of tears from Jezebel's eyes. She fell on Emmrich's chest, crying and sobbing. As a last caress, he ran his fingers through her hair - and his nand fell with no strength left.

Jezebel stood next to the fresh grave. "In loving memory of Rupert Volkarin and Elannora Volkarin", said the tombstones of his parents. "In loving memory and undying devotion of Emmrich Volkarin", said his own tombstone.

She heard bones rattling behind her - Manfred finished picking flowers. Jezebel smiled at him. "Go on, my boy," she gestured to vases in front of each tombstone. "Do it for him."

Manfred obeyed and put the flowers in the vases. When it was finished, he stood beside Jezebel once again. "Gone? Forever?"

"Well, if you will someday return to the Fade..." Jezebel chuckled. "But he is gone, yes."

"Not raise? Like Manfred?"

"A Watcher should be accepting of grief and loss. And death. Yes, Manfred, I know we resurrected you, but..." Jezebel closed her eyes. "We can't do it, Manfred. Not when the wound is that deep."

She felt a new tear run from her eye to her chin. She said quietly: "Oh dear, I will never see you again, will I?" The next moment she felt skeleton hands hug her from her side. "Oh, Manfred, my boy," she chuckled, "thank you."

"Must support. Must care." Jezebel hugged Manfred in return.

"Let's go, kid," She turned around, trying not to burst into tears again. "He wouldn't like to see us like this."

#emmrich x rook #emmrich volkarin #rook dragon age #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #angst #i am sorry for this but i needed it

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burnmarksofficial · 1 year ago

Text

꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ─ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐀 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

❨ series masterlist | request | taglist ❩

jaeeunlee

liked by redbullracing christianhorner 126,764,784 others

jaeeunlee bring on 2021

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user I hope you dnf every race

kimimatiasraikkonen I told you this last year now where is my money also I'm gonna beat you in the driver standings ⤷ jaeeunlee you wish old man ⤷ user these two >>

redbullracing bring on 2021 🫡💪 liked by jaeeunlee

user KOREA REPRESENT🇰🇷 rahhhh

minjihwang 이런 경주 시간은 말도 안 돼요 평소에는 무슨 일이 일어난 걸까요? these race time are ridiculous what happened to things being at normal times? ⤷ jaeeunlee 시차 엄마 time difference mum ⤷ user my fav mother-daughter duo!!! ⤷ user I would like to personally thank Mrs. Hwang for birthing Jae and her siblings ⤷ minjihwang your welcome.

user ain't no way she's gonna get anywhere near verstappen 😂

arilee 아빠는 네가 자랑스러울 거야, 우리 모두가 그러하듯이 dad would be proud of you jae, just like we all are ⤷ jaeeunlee 고마워요 언니 thank you sis ⤷ user I'm tearing up rn 🥹🥹

user FINALLY SOME FEMALE REPRESENTATION

daehohwang 그 사람은 내 여동생이야, 네, 여기 계신 여러분, 내 여동생이 레드불에 있다는 사실이 자랑스럽습니다. 재… that’s my sister , yes everyone here that MY SISTER IS IN RED BULL we’re proud of you Jae… ⤷ jaeeunlee 네, 사람들에게 당신에게 정말로 여동생이 있다는 사실을 상기시켜주셔서 감사합니다. 하지만 고마워요 호베어 yes thank you for reminding people you indeed have a sister but thank you ho-bear ⤷ user god if only me and my brother were like this

user the goat has resurrected

daeeunhwang 끝까지 자랑할 권리를 줘서 고마워 언니 thank you sis for giving me bragging rights till the end of time ⤷ jaeeunlee 물론이죠 you are welcome

user I bet she’s going to go through the barrier in monaco like her dad did ☺️

sajalee 재 님, 이제 이렇게 큰 월급을 받으셨으니 새 ps4 사주실 수 있나요? 당신은 더 이상 한국에 살지 않고 우리가 자주 만날 수 없다는 걸 알고 있으니 제발 도와주세요. 형 아웃. 하지만 어쨌든 사랑해 언니는 빨리 너를 큰 화면에서 보고 싶어 I'm so excited for you Jae, now that you're on this big salary can you buy me the new ps4 since you know you don’t live in Korea any more and we don’t see each other often please, help the bro out. but anyway love you sis can’t wait to see you on the big screen ⤷ jaeeunlee 우선 감사합니다 자자님도 할머니가 자기 꽃병에 무슨 일이 일어났는지 알아주셨으면 좋겠나요… first of all thank you jaja also do you want halmeoni to fins out what happened to his vase... ⤷ sajalee 아니요! no! ⤷ user bro saw a chance and took it but forgot who he was messing with

user nepotism at its finest

choiminho_1209 Jae, 많이 컸구나. 너희 아버지가 한국을 대표해 F1을 제패하고 우리를 지도에 올려놓으시는 모습을 본 기억이 난다. 넌 그들에게 지옥을 선사해 Jae you’ve grown up so much, I remember watching your dad dominating f1 representing Korea and putting us on the map. you give them hell ⤷ jaeeunlee 감사합니다 thank you

user the story continues

lewishamilton i believe in you jae, welcome to f1 and stay strong though the hate you are gonna do great things ⤷ jaeeunlee thank you lewis ⤷ user the fact she is already getting recognition from the goat means she must be GOOD 😌

user she's slaying on the main again!!!

chaelincl i knew it!!! you’ve done well, from the day your dad introduced me to you i knew you were going to continue his legacy ⤷ jaeeunlee 고마워요 언니 thank you sister

user more asians in this sport, they own everything nowadays

yukitsunoda0511 今ではアジアを代表していると思います。おめでとう！！ I guess we’re representing Asia now. congratulations!! ⤷ jaeeunlee 今度はあなたの言ったように食事に行ってもいいですか now can we go out to eat like you said

user another china invasion 😡

sebastianvettle i’ve seen you progress over the years, your dad would be proud!! redbull will take care of you… ⤷ jaeeunlee thank you seb

user the story continues

liamlawson30 redbull jnrs represent!!! ⤷ jaeeunlee as one should

user making history like her dad 👑

danielricciardo so proud of you little jj can't wait to see you on the track ⤷ user The fact that jae responded to every driver but daniel... ⤷ user I though daniel and jae use to be close? ⤷ user somethings not right between jae and daniel ⤷ user another reason to hate jae like she did daniel dirty ⤷ user what happened to daniel and jae they were supposed to be THE f1 duo ⤷ user is this brocedes 2.0 ⤷ user jae replied to all of the other drivers but not daniel, something definitely happened ⤷ user nahh I don't blame her he is joining the team that killed her dad m*laren ⤷ user that hasn't been confirmed yet

user I have a feeling the 2021 season is gonna be filled with drama

leetaehyung Jae가 말로 표현할 수 없을 만큼 자랑스럽습니다. (모든 경주를 지켜볼 것입니다) so proud Jae words cannot describe (I will be watching every race) ⤷ jaeeunlee 너 예전엔 아니었어? you weren’t before? ⤷ user broo got caught big time ⤷ user best football x f1 duo

user here for Jae's friends comments 🤞

junsehun 내 목장이 p.o.를 통과하는 것을 허용하겠습니다. 상자. 농담이었는데 이제 한국을 대표하는 빅리그에서 뵙게 됐는데, 이 재재를 위해 고생하셨고 성과가 있었습니다. I’ll accept my paddock passes through p.o. box. I’m just joking Jae but now we get to see you in the big leagues representing Korea, you’ve worked hard for this Jae and it paid off. ⤷ jaeeunlee 누가 합격한다고 하던가요 선생님 🤨 who said you were getting passes sir 🤨 ⤷ user THIS IS WHY I LOVE JAE ⤷ user best basketball and f1 duo

user Jae with her friends and family >>>> Jae with everyone else

hanyejun 이제 귀하의 GP를 평가하는 시리즈를 만들 수 있습니다. (scotty j tiktok과 유사) 하지만 우리는 힘들고 어려운 일을 겪었고 당신의 우울함도 겪었습니다. 그날의 공포는 생각나지 않지만 대체로 당신이 해냈습니다. Jae Jae, 나는 당신이 자랑스럽습니다. now I can make a series rating your GP. (similar to scotty j tiktok’s) but we’ve been through thick and thin and your downs, don’t remind me of the horror of that day but all in all you made it Jae Jae, i’m proud of you. ⤷ jaeeunlee 10/10 아니면 내 차로 너를 때렸어 (저렴한 차) 10/10 or I hit you with my car (the cheap one) ⤷ user okay this made me stan her SO hard 🤭 ⤷ user best ice hokey and f1 duo danny and Scotty better watch out 👀 ⤷ user nahh they are clear of these spoilt nepo's

user Jae really is such a different person with people that she genuinely cares for 🥺

parkjiho 포뮬러 1에 들어가고 싶었고, 모토 GP에 들어가고 싶었을 때, 인제 스피디움에서 밤낮으로 트랙에서 열심히 일하는 모습을 본 기억이 납니다. 비가 와도 넌 f1 진출을 축하하지 않았어 Jae Bear FIA가 너한테 장난치기로 결정했다면 나한테 전화해 바로잡아줄게 I remember when you wanted to be in Formula 1 and I wanted to be in Moto GP, day and night I saw you work hard on the track at Inje Speedium. even when it was raining you did not stop congrats on making it to f1 Jae-bear if the FIA decided to fuck with you call me and I'll set them straight ⤷ jaeeunlee 우리가 얼마나 멀리 왔는지 봐 look how far we have come ⤷ user I ❤️ women in motorsports ⤷ user this just shows how much work and effort they put in

user the only nepo's with actual talent

kimlia 재야, 네가 해냈어. 지금은 아무것도 믿을 수가 없어요. 너는 나의 첫 번째 날이고, 네가 아빠처럼 포뮬러 드라이버가 될 거라고 말하며 제주 해변을 뛰어다녔던 기억이 난다. 해냈어, 제이!! … 비록 많이 만나지는 못하더라도 전 세계 어디에서나 항상 응원하겠습니다. Jae you did it. I can’t believe anything right now. you are my day one and I remember running around on the beach in Jeju saying you were going to be a Formula driver like your dad. you did it, Jae!! … even though we don’t see each other much I will always support you even from across the globe ⤷ jaeeunlee 그리고 나는 전 세계에서 당신을 지원할 것입니다 Lia and I will support you from across the globe as well Lia ⤷ user kinda want Lia to introduce Jae to Lily ⤷ user how would they know each other ⤷ user Lia and Lily are both golfers bro ⤷ user won't it be awkward seeing as Jae replaced Alex

user I swear Jae's friend group is so iconic I can't 💅

rkive Redbull에 입사한 것을 축하합니다… 이 놀라운 성과를 축하하기 위해 GIF로. 당신이 원하는 티켓을 얻었습니다. 무대 뒤에서 봐요🤭🤭 as congratulations on getting into Redbull… as a gif to celebrate this amazing achievement. I got those tickets you wanted. I’ll see you backstage 🤭🤭 ⤷ jaeeunlee 응, 정말 고마워 okay, thank you very much ⤷ user dawg flirting in the comments and she just ignored him ⤷ user Jae 💀

user 🤮🤮🤮

jin 행운을 빌어요 제이!! 자신을 돌보고 수분을 유지하는 것을 잊지 마십시오 !! best of luck Jae!! Remember to look after yourself and make sure you stay hydrated!! liked by jaeeunlee

user girl really thought she did something 🙄

agustd 다가오는 시즌을 축하하고 행운을 빕니다. congrats and best of luck for the upcoming season Jae liked by jaeeunlee

user the fact that she is just 18 🤩

uarmyhope 빨리 트랙에서 뵙길 바라요 Jae!! Can’t wait to see you on the track Jae!! liked by jaeeunlee

user max >>> Jae

j.m 이번 시즌에 당신이 굉장한 모습을 보고 싶습니다! can’t wait to see you smash this season! liked by jaeeunlee

user I feel bad for the grid...they have do idea what they are getting into

thv 자랑스럽다 재화이팅 ✊ proud of you Jae hwaiting ✊ liked by jaeeunlee

user I just know Jae will make F1 her bitch 😭😭

jeonjungkook 한국 Jae에게 우승을 안겨주세요! Bring home a championship for Korea Jae! liked by jaeeunlee

user as an A.R.M.Y I support Jae ✊🏼

sooyaaa__ Jae에게 행운을 빕니다! hwaiting Jae best of luck! liked by jaeeunlee

user real BLINKS support Jae 👏🏼

jennierubyjane 축하해요 아가씨 ❤️💙 congrats girl ❤️💙 liked by jaeeunlee

user Jae fr uniting the most powerful fandoms in the world...the rest of the grid is shaking rn 🤭

roses_are_rosie 정말 자랑스럽습니다 언니, 대한민국 모두가 당신 뒤에 있습니다! so proud sis all of Korea is behind you fighting! liked by jaeeunlee

user Jae really got ass whole nation behind her

lalalalisa_m OMG 정말 기대됩니다. 첫 번째 GP에 가겠습니다. 재야 축하해… OMG I’m so excited, I’m coming to your first GP. Jae congratulations… liked by jaeeunlee

user god she is so overraterd and she hasn't even raced yet 🙄

xxibrgn.x Jae님, 이번 성과를 축하드립니다!! 제가 목장에서 보이더라도 놀라지 마세요 ;) Jae, congratulations on this achievement!! Don't be surprised if you see me in the paddock ;) liked by jaeeunlee ⤷ user the fact that G-dragon acknowledged her...🤯

user go back to china

itzy.all.in.us 앞으로는 경마를 종교적으로 지켜볼 예정입니다. Going to be watching races religiously from now onwards liked by jaeeunlee

user Jae def ran out of replies which is why she is just liking now 😅

realstraykids 역사가 만들어졌고 우리는 이를 지켜보는 영광을 누리고 있습니다. history has been made and we have the honour of watching liked by jaeeunlee

user the fact her brother and sister groups official insta's are showing her support 🥹🥹

ateez_official_ 팀이 당신을 지원하고 있습니다 !!! 당신의 존재로 우리를 우아하게 만드는 당신의 경주를 지켜볼 수 있어서 기쁩니다!! 화이팅 the team is supporting you!!! We’re excited to watch your races as you grace us with your presence!! Hwaiting liked by jaeeunlee

user I don't even think the tifosi or the orange army will be any match for J-nation

user these comments are giving me whiplash 😅

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whxre-bxby · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I love your stories <3

I had an idea for either a Zdinarsk x Reader or a Quaritch x Reader, It could be something like where your their close friend at first but then slowly devolp feelings for each other?

Please not It is completly ok to deny my request,

Have a great rest of your day <3

(Yes! Love it, here we go)

Recom Miles Quaritch x Human f. Reader

"Heartfelt Confessions" <3

Masterlist

"I think you're beautiful in every way possible. You're probably wonderin' what I'm goin' on and on about. If you ask, I'll just say it's about your plants..." "What are you going on and on about?" "Plants..."

Summary: Quaritch and you are close friends but one night, he can't help but confess his long-felt feelings to you in Na'vi. Thinking you won't understand he doesn't think much of it. But little does he know, you've been learning Na'vi to impress him.

WARNINGS: Smut, fluff, angst, cursing, size difference, unprotected sex, penetration, fingering, riding

Word Count: 4870

Words in italic are Na'vi!

You were sitting at Quaritch’s table, in his room when he walked in. His eyes instantly found you and his stern gaze was enlightened by a soft smile. A pleasant surprise you were.

“Hi.” I muse, noticing his tense appearance.

“Evenin’.” he greeted me back while slightly turning to the side to close the door behind him. His room was big. He had a table, a bathroom, a small kitchen and a large bed. Well, everything in here was large to me. I almost had to climb onto the chair I was sitting on.

“What a fuckin’ week this day’s been.” Miles groaned, rubbing a hand down his face before slowly making his way to the table.

I smile and stifle a small laugh. He was clearly stressed again. Not that it was uncommon. It wasn’t. It just managed to amuse me to a certain extent every time.

Quaritch and I were close friends. I knew him since he was human. At that time we never talked but he would often go out of his way to greet and smile at me. Something he never did to anyone else at base. I took his actions to heart and once I found out he was being partly resurrected, it didn’t take long to resume the small connection we had.

His recom body noticed me almost instantly. I could tell that the Avatar knew my face and was trying to figure out from the overload of memories it received, who exactly I was.

Once we overcame the first step of our slightly awkward introduction, things went smoothly. The Colonel would start to greet me and smile whenever he walked past. That soon escalated into asking how each other’s day has been and soon we would have long and pleasant conversations whenever we saw each other.

I would leave my paperwork behind and he would dismiss his soldiers to talk to me.

“Hey, at least it’s over, right?” I say, leaning forward so that my elbows are resting on the table. Quaritch gives me a second-long agreeing smile before sighing again and slumping into the chair in front of me.

“How’s your day been?” he asks and I see how he pushes all his worries away, to give me his full attention. It was something I always admired about Miles.

“Fairly normal. I guess better than yours.” I say with a light chuckle. Quaritch drops his head defeatedly with a small smile again.

“Yeah, not hard to beat.” he replies, wiping his hand over his mouth before straightening his posture.

“What’ve you been up to?” Quaritch asks me, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. His bright yellow eyes are fixated on me. Not once has he let his gaze falter. I could only keep eye contact for a few seconds before having to look away, but Miles was different.

“Trying to study this new plant.” I say, waving it off because I never thought it was interesting for others to hear.

Quaritch stays still, watching me with his sparkling eyes. Almost as if he were waiting for me to continue. My confusion becomes visible.

He nods in a way that encourages me to keep talking.

“We’re still trying to come up with a name for it, but it’s been messing up all the samples in the lab.” I add, glancing at him to make sure I’m not boring him.

Quaritch blinks but his ears remain perked forwards, giving me all his attention.

“Somehow, its cells are able to change and we don’t know why. It can alter the amount of cells in surrounding plants too, so it’s really been messing up all our tests.” I say, rolling my eyes when I remember the fight that plant put on.

My eyes fall back on Miles’ face and he has an amused smile stretched across his lips.

“Anyway, that’s been a pain. Because it seems to also be able to change whether it wants to be poisonous or not. Like it has a mind of its own.”

“Ain’t that a bitch.” he mumbles through his small grin. Quaritch liked seeing me complain. He as a Colonel couldn’t because he was ranking so high, so he got a kick out of seeing me do it for us both.

“Yeah. Might as well name it something like that.” I say, leaning back and palming my forehead.

“ ‘M sure there’s somethin’ for it in Na’vi.” Miles mumbles and his tail slowly sways behind him.

“Out of the two of us, you should know that.” I smirk at him, attempting to playfully tease him about not remembering enough of the native language that was taught to him.

“Heh, not that advanced, sweet’eart.” He chuckles, finally letting his eyes fall to the surface of his wooden table.

“I’m sure you know other words, right?” I ask, opening my water bottle and taking a few sips.

“Yeah, uh… blue morons.” Quaritch says and I catch the Na’vi words.

“What does that mean?”

Miles chuckles at my eagerness to learn. “Blue morons.”

“Oh, wow. How philosophical.” I muse. “Wise words you used there, Colonel.”

“Comes in handy when you come across one.” he replies, cracking his neck and rolling his sore shoulders free from stress.

“Hey, they’re not that bad. If they were, I probably wouldn’t like you as much as I do.”

For a second, Quaritch’s eyes light up. Mine are looking down as I chuckle so I don’t see it happen, but his lips part slightly and his tail stills as he replays the sentence in his head.

“Still don’t know why you do.” He grumbles, and I sigh, dropping my head back in frustration.

“We’re not going over this again.” I say, knowing he often feels the tiniest bit self-conscious. Our age gap is significantly big. Not physically, but he is still his 50-year-old self in his mind.

He’s just gazing at me, seeming to once again be engulfed by his thoughts.

“Teach me more Na’vi.” I say, wanting to distract him from it.

He scoffs. “Don’t think I’m even pronouncin’ half of it correctly.”

“Doesn’t matter, I like hearing you say it.” I say, propping my head up on both palms.

Quaritch is staring at me again, not seeming to have predicted that answer from me.

“Come on, enlighten me.” I urge him on, watching how his ears twitch in the direction of my voice. “Pleaseee.”

He blinks a few times as if he were waking up from a type of hypnosis.

“Fine. What do ye’ wanna hear?” Miles doesn’t seem very amused by my requests but he complies.

“Anything. It doesn’t matter.”

He huffs out a dramatic sigh before remembering a few sentences he was told to practice. Miles started out with the basics, naming off a few body parts, verbs and nouns until he got distracted.

You are dreamily gazing up at him, enjoying the sound of his voice speaking the foreign words. Your plan is to surprise him by telling him you had started learning a few things too.

He stops in silence for a few seconds, gazing deeply into your innocent big eyes. Something catches him and he’s debating whether he should or shouldn’t say what has been on his mind for weeks. You wouldn’t understand him anyway, so he could let a few things off his chest. Perhaps it would finally help him sleep better. Knowing he told you his feeling in a way you didn’t understand could help him finally blow off some steam.

His work was stressful but what bothered him the most was you.

Not in the way you think. But you clouded his mind throughout the day. He couldn’t shake his emotions and did his best to contain them around you. Miles loved spending time with you but it pained him a little more every time when you two would part and he would still have his feelings bottled up.

Never did he plan on telling you. Miles promised this was something he would take to the grave because it would affect your work and friendship. The connection you two had, despite being a human woman and a recom Avatar, was something Quaritch truly cherished and he would never let his stupid feelings get in the way of ruining that.

You were much younger than him. Miles would tell himself that it’s better for you to be with a human who is younger. You two just don’t fit in that way. Not that he was insecure about himself. He wasn’t. Quaritch admired his looks and was often cocky about it but he would never dare ruin your life by becoming a large part of it as an Avatar. With your young age, you had a bright future ahead of you. Unlike him. He might die tomorrow on his next mission and never come back. You needed to have someone reliable and trustworthy.

But now he has an opportunity to tell you without knowing. What could go wrong?

“I like what you did with your hair today…” Quaritch starts. His raspy voice takes on a rather soft tone as his eyes start to slowly roam my face.

I smile, tilting my head and listening. He doesn’t know I can understand most of what he’s saying. I’ll surprise him when he’s done.

“Don’t quite know how ya managed to braid it up like that,” he chuckles as he examines the loose strands hanging from my tied-up hairdo.

“But it looks nice.”

I choose not to react. His words have mesmerised me and his voice is comforting all of me. I didn’t know I needed his presence this much until now.

“Haven’t seen you do your hair in a while…” Miles continues and I almost scoff. So much for him being a beginner. He was doing really well.

“You should do it more often. It looks good.”

Only good, huh?

“Makes you look beautiful.” Miles softly speaks, letting his eyes dreamily rest on my face.

Suddenly, I freeze. Not visibly because I wasn’t really moving, but my amused smile fades and my breathing stops. I wasn’t expecting that.

“Of course, you always look beautiful.” he says, with almost a light chuckle.

“That’s why I- feel so connected to you.” Miles has started fiddling with his hands, but it wasn’t too obvious.

Was this a confession?

“Everythin’ about you is beautiful to me.”

I’m speechless. Never would I have ever thought that Quaritch felt this way about me. But I knew he wasn’t lying. The look on his face, his soft voice, the calm body language and the slightly saddened eyes. Miles was being genuine. This was his heartfelt confession.

“Ye’r probably wonderin’ what I’m goin’ on and on about.” He stifles a breathy laugh. But even through that, I can tell he is hurt.

“If ya’ ask, I’ll just tell you it’s about your plants.” Those words he mutters under his breath.

The last sentence wounds my heart. I feel sad for him. That he doesn’t feel like he can properly share his emotions with me. Miles often doubts himself and I know that he doesn’t think he is good enough for me. Even though right now, what we have is just a friendship, Miles fears hurting me.

My heart is racing and even through my sadness for him, I’m ecstatic that he feels the same way about me. I’ve been in love with him for a while but through his worries, I never wanted to tell him because he would definitely completely withdraw himself from our friendship. Probably out of fear of ruining my life, even though I still don’t understand how he could ever do that. All he does is brighten my days.

Finally, I have the opportunity to make it work out for both of us.

“What are you going on about?” I ask. The question should have sounded amused but my voice was quieter and my joking side has died down. Miles noticed this. I could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion for a few seconds. But he seemed to brush it off quickly.

I watch him swallow nervously and for the first time ever, his eyes can’t hold eye contact with me and instead, he chooses to gaze down at the table again.

“Your plants…” he replies. His voice is barely above a whisper.

I’m scanning over his face, noticing the worry in his expression and the slumping sadness, weighing down his broad shoulders.

There’s a minute of silence as I watch him, thinking about what I should do next. Quaritch looks uneasy. Me being quiet is unusual and he doesn’t understand why it’s happening right now.

“You think my plants are beautiful?” I ask him in Na’vi. Miles’ body freezes for a good few seconds before he slowly lifts his eyes to meet mine again. He doesn’t have to look up far because he is still towering over me with his extreme height. Even while sitting.

His mouth opens in an attempt to say something but he can’t form any words at the moment. Miles’ bright yellow eyes are wide and filled with surprise.

“You understood it all, didn’t you?” he breathes out and his figure slumps in defeat, preparing for my confirmation. I give him a gentle smile and nod, watching his ears droop in regret.

“Yeah, I did.” I say, wanting to somehow comfort him.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I ask, reaching for his hand but Quaritch almost flinches away from me. Like a bear afraid of a mouse.

“I should leave. It’s gettin’ late.” He spills out, abruptly standing up and stumbling back a few steps while his hand nervously rubs the back of his neck.

“This is your room.” I argue against him, trying to think of a way to calm him down. He looks like his world is falling apart.

“Miles, stop.”

He listens, standing in the middle of his room. Yet, he refuses to look at me.

“Tell me again.”

He stares at me like he’s seen a ghost.

“I want to hear it from you in English.”

“Y/N, stop. I don’t-”

I interrupt his movements and words by jogging over and stepping in between him and the door. Quickly, I lock it and give him a challenging look. Quaritch looks extremely confused by my actions.

“Say it, otherwise neither of us is ever leaving.” I demand. He scoffs, looking up at the ceiling. My stubbornness always ceased to amaze him.

“What are you doin’?” he asks me. His voice is leaking with despair.

“Just do it.”

He sighs, taking note of how stupid he is for letting me get to him so easily.

“I think you’re beautiful. Happy?” Quaritch says. He looks tired and weak. The way he speaks his words shows me his low energy.

“No, you didn’t mean it.”

A second ago, Miles looked like he was in love. Now he looks like he could kill me. At least I know it’s really him, because this is how he is. And I happen to love it.

“If you don’t give me your full confession, I’ll do it instead.”

My words catch the man’s attention and he chooses to stay quiet.

“One would think you would be mature enough to say you love me.”

Miles stays silent.

“Do you?”

He takes a moment to think about whether he is giving up all his fight now. He is.

“Yeah…” Miles whispers in defeat. Checkmate. He couldn’t get out of this.

Without hesitation I move towards him, standing on my tippy-toes as I wrap my arms around his slim waist and embrace him into a tight hug.

The sudden contact makes Quaritch tense and he raises his arms. His eyes peer down at me while he tries to understand what my reaction meant.

“I love you.” I mumble against his hip, not letting go.

Miles’ face lights up and his drooped ears once again perk forward. What a rollercoaster of emotions this is.

“Say that again?” he asks, needing to make sure he heard me correctly.

“I love you, Miles.” I repeat, looking up at him this time.

His stomach twists in excitement when he hears his name. I can feel it. Once again, he looks mesmerised and it makes me melt against him. We feel very comfortable around each other so this really just became the sprinkles on the ice cream.

His lips are parted again in surprise as he tries to come up with something to say but there are no words he can find. The moment is so special to him, he is once again afraid of ruining it. So instead, I feel his large hands cradle my head and back against him.

Luckily, the night was young, so I had time to comfort my big blue Avatar. We sat down again and finally, Miles told me all his worries. He explained that he didn’t want people to think badly of me because I was dating an Avatar. It’s common that people get their reputations lowered for spending too much time with recoms. Even though they are the RDA’s leading force in completing their mission successfully, many others still aren’t fond of the Avatar Program. Their rules are that natives are enemies and anything that is blue, must be located outside of Bridgehead City.

No one directly told this to the Deja Blu team, but the Marines often caught on to the dirty looks they received.

Quaritch was afraid to ruin my career by dragging me down the social ladder.

I of course reassured him that that won’t happen and that I would much rather be around him than pretend to be someone I’m not around others. Adding to that, why would I care about what others think? As long as I’m happy, which I am with Miles, I don’t need to worry about other people’s opinions.

Those arguments were able to silence Miles’ worries. At least for now. After that, he deepend his confession because he said he can’t sleep without knowing he’s told me everything. Of course, I listened intently.

“Would you like te’ stay the night?” Miles asks, anxiously glancing down at me. His fingers were once again intertwined and he kept fiddling with them. Seeing him feel nervous is completely new to me. Miles is the most confident person I know.

“Are you okay with that?” I ask, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. But the truth is, I really wanted to stay and I was hoping he’d ask. Here in the RDA, everything is about work and professionality. No one gets much time to themselves. Even while Miles and I were friends, I found myself longing for his touch and presence. I would hug him for a second too long and subconsciously lean into him when he was next to me. Perhaps I was touch deprived, but often he would mirror my actions. His hands would linger on my back at random times. Or his tail would curl around me. I think we both need this.

“More than happy.” Miles smiles. I get ready for bed while he signs off on his tablet.

His bed is extremely large to me, I feel like I could run laps on it. Without further ado, I drop down face-first onto the mattress. The long day we both had was starting to take a toll on us.

I heard Miles chuckle from the other side of the room.

“Comfortable?” he asks teasingly, while I try to free my tangled legs from his heavy blanket.

“Not yet. I’m cold.” I say, giving him a cheeky grin. He doesn’t seem to quite catch on to what I mean so I sign grabby hands at him. His ears perk forward and his eyebrows raise before he drops his head again and chuckles.

“Never thought I’d get te’ have ya like this.” he smirks, putting the tablet down. Miles walks over to his coat hanger and pulls his tank top over his head, throwing it over the chair next to it.

My movements stop and I sit on the bed, watching him like a lovestruck idiot. I had entered his room in my sleepwear which was my oversized shirt and comfortable shorts. Meaning I didn’t have to change.

Quaritch moved his hands to his belt and I watched him, not noticing his sly smirk as he watched my reaction. I was too preoccupied with staring at his hands.

A teasing whistle made me glance up and lock eyes with him.

“Somethin’ caught yer’ eye?” he asks, smugly.

“Okay stop teasing. Wait until I get my clothes off.” I scoff, waving him off. His eyebrows raise in surprise again. My words caught him off guard. Miles’ silence makes me replay my sentence in my head and I gasp.

“No- wait. I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I sure as hell won’t be complainin’.” Miles grins, and I notice he’s discarded his camo pants now too.

My limbs feel like rubber as I watch him walk over to the bed. He effortlessly pulls the heavy blanket up, sliding under it with me. Miles settles down, covering himself with the cloth while I sit next to his side and just stare.

“I can’t sleep with you starin’ like that.” Miles mumbled, opening an eye to look at me.

“I can’t sleep with you next to me.” I blurt out. I was way too excited to just fall asleep now.

Once again I manage to catch him off guard and both his eyes open. He doesn’t say anything. His eyes just scan my body, taking note of my restlessness it seems.

“You ain’t tired?”

I shake my head ‘no’ a bit too hard which shows him my energy. A small grin slowly spreads across his face, letting me get a glimpse of his sharp fangs.

“Need somethin’?”

I blink a few times. Surely he doesn’t mean what I think he does.

“Just ask, sweetheart. You’re gonna get it.”

My heart is pounding in my chest.

“I don’t know what-”

“I don’t want to ruin you, baby. If you want it, you’re gonna have to do it.” Miles says and for whatever reason, his words sound reassuring to me.

I swallow thickly, staring at him like a deer stuck in headlights.

“Tell me. You want this?” he asks. I think for a moment before slowly nodding.

“Yeah? C’mon, use your words, pretty girl.”

“Yeah…” I whisper. My voice almost gave out.

“Let me help you.”

Miles suddenly became extremely caring and attentive to me. I noticed how careful he was when touching me. As if he were afraid that the blue of his hands would permanently stain my skin.

He helped me out of my clothes, once I was ready to let it happen.

“Goddamn, baby. Been dreamin’ of you like this for ages.” he groans, letting his predatory eyes take in my bare skin.

He was still afraid of hurting me so instead, he let me do what I wanted. In a way, he got his kicks out of it too.

Miles loved seeing you use his body. Perhaps it was the irony of the size difference that amused him or just that you were so sweet and soft.

You were just getting off by using his hand, holding it in place and fingering yourself with it. Quaritch refused to take action at first. But seeing that got him so pent up that he was rock-hard under the blanket. It was visible, very visible, but he didn’t care. Miles couldn’t rip his eyes from the sight in front of him. You petite, delicate hands, struggling to use his large and heavy ones. The squelching sound that was elicited from your pretty little pussy, every time his fingers reached knuckle deep almost had him cumming. The fact that your slick was dripping down his fingers made him feral.

“Aight’ that’s it. C’mere.” Miles almost ordered, pulling his fingers from inside you. It startled you but soon, your mouth was salivating when he revealed his leaking, throbbing cock. It was huge and you knew there was no way you could ever fit it all without getting injured, but it looked so tempting.

Within seconds, his hands were on your hips, pulling you on his lap. It seems as though his usual confidence has returned.

“You gotta take over, I don’t wanna hurt you.” he breathes out, letting go of my hips. I nod, quickly arranging myself on top of him. My hand reaches for his aching dick while he puts his hands behind his bed, gripping onto the head of the bed to contain himself. His body shudders when I glide his tip through my wet folds, smearing his pre-cum all over my swollen pussy lips. Everything about him turned me on so much, I couldn’t think of anything else but stuffing him inside me.

The second I start to slowly sink my body down on his tip, Miles tenses and his head drops back. I see how his teeth dig into his bottom lip, making the soft skin turn white.

“F-fuck…” he hisses through clenched teeth. “So tight, baby.”

I don’t stop, letting myself get distracted from my discomfort by his pleasure. The stretch made my insides burn and ache but seeing how good it felt for him motivated me to pull through.

I managed to take just slightly over half of him into me before I realised it won’t be possible to get more. My senses were already overwhelmed with how full I was, I could barely move.

Soon, my hips started to rock back and forth and eventually, I started to gently bounce up and down him.

Miles was groaning and almost panting, digging his fingers into the pillow beneath his head. His eyes were fixated on me and the way my body moved.

Very quickly, my legs got tired because I had to push myself up higher since he was so big.

“A little- hmph… help please?” I mewl, realising I can no longer keep pace. I definitely don’t need to ask Quaritch twice. In an instant, his large hands grope my ass before lifting me off his cock. He doesn’t push me further down him to force me to take more, he just supports my movements which I greatly appreciate.

Miles’ ears are pinned back, his tail is thrashing and his fangs are bared as he focuses with pinched-together eyebrows on pleasuring both of us.

I started feeling bliss when he applied pressure on my clit with his rough thumb, gently rubbing small circles on it before gradually speeding up with our pace.

My eyes were half-lidded as I steadied myself on his arms. Quaritch was in full control now but he still listened and didn’t switch anything up so that I wasn’t in pain.

“Miles- I..” I whine, arching my back while he repeatedly pulls me down his length.

“You can cum, baby. It’s all f’r you.” he groans, starting to buck his hips up and off the mattress to meet my movements. The plush skin of my ass was slapping against his abdomen and upper thighs, turning my skin red.

He applied some more pressure on my clitoris and I was over the moon. My legs trembled and my body shook while Miles continued to thrusts up into me. My orgasm made my pussy clench around him which had him cursing and cumming deep inside me. Almost instantly, my pussy was overflowing with his warm and thick cum. It was running down my thighs and onto the base of his cock.

I leaned forwards, planting both my hands onto his midsection to support my weight while I regained my breath. Miles was panting hard and he dropped his head back into the soft pillow while his large hands gently stroked up and down my waist in a comforting manner.

“God, I love you so much, darlin’.” Quaritch whispered, moving his hand up to stroke it over my head and gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I love you too.” I whisper, slowly falling into his chest. He smiles, pulling my head to his and for the first time, our lips connect. It’s a soft and gentle kiss. Miles is clearly watching out with his fangs so as to not overwhelm me with the size difference.

When we pull away, he gently pulls me off of him. Our mixed fluids are covering the insides of my thighs and his lower area but right now, we’re both too tired to mind.

“You tired now?” Miles jokes, nuzzling his face against my cheek. I smile and nudge him in the chest.

“Exhausted.”

“You can sleep, baby. I’ll take care of you.” He reassures me. Even though there was no hazardous danger, his words comforted me and made me feel safe.

Very soon, I was snoozing on his chest. Miles had laid me down comfortably on top of him and covered both of us with the blanket, before turning the light off and getting some sleep himself. Luckily, neither of you had to get up early in the morning tomorrow.

Tag List: @numarusworld @number1gal @jatwow @ken-dala @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ikranwings

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vase-of-lilies · 1 year ago

Text

❀ Pairing: Dark!Vampire!Wanda x Vampire Hunter!Reader(F) (Some Wolf!Bucky x Reader x Wanda)

❀ Warnings: Non-con, dubcon, violence, vampire-esque content, dark!Wanda (she’s a warning…), blood and gore, draining of a body, biting for sexual stimulation, overstimulation, fingering, violence, swearing, use of a dagger, knife play, forced to strip, getting bitten by a vampire but not turning into one, bondage (restraints from ceiling), a punishment, pet names (Sweetheart, little one, etc.), slight somnophilia, spanking, and more!

❀ This is my second entry for @eloquentreverie ’s dusk till dawn challenge! The sentence I chose is:

“Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want to watch you.”

❀ Disclaimer and Authors Note: The pictures only represent aesthetics and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. The pictures go to their rightful owners on Pinterest, and the comic-style pictures belong to the beautiful artist Jenifer Prince.

❀ I hope you like this addition to the collection of Creatures and Foreigners! I would die and be resurrected for vampire!wanda. Literally. This is a re-write, since the original was in 3 parts. To keep this organized, I just made it one post!!

It was time… It was time to catch the creature that was terrorizing the beautiful village you live in. Yorkshire is where you are from, where your beautiful home stands. It's a small cottage with a perfect view of the mountains gracing the East, the sunrises your favorite part of the day. When the sun sets in the west, it's when everyone locks their doors with iron chains, keeps a wooden stake by their beds, a garlic circle around their homes, and prays to the [whichever you believe in] and hopes they survive the night.

You finally had the will to change this. To help the people you love feel a little safer at night who were terrified of the vampire who lived in the castle on the South Hill. The dark bricks and stones towered over the town, casting a large shadow over everyone at dusk. That shadow was the sign that it was time to prepare for the worst, for the creatures of the night to begin hunting for their midnight snacks. And lastly, for the vampire to find her next source of blood.

For Wanda, she always loved human blood but never complained with cow, or sheep blood. It was the blood of a fighting soul that tasted best to her. There was something so satisfying watching the life drain from someone’s eyes once their body is empty of their blood. However, whether it was a man or a woman, she loved to torture them before she killed them. She would keep them locked up for days, weeks even, and keep them on their toes. She would feed them one day, and then break their legs the next. She was a storm that you never want to be stuck in the middle of.

Packing your sash full of what you need was not a challenge at all. Each piece of equipment had a slot that it belonged to. One for your wooden sword, a small chain of iron links, garlic garland, iron cross bow, and last but not least your gun with the solid iron pellets ready to kill any vampire you see. It was not very heavy as one would think, having it around your shoulders made it very easy to access everything as well as keeping it light for you to carry around the woods.

Wanda, being one of the only vampires in Yorkshire, knew she was being hunted. She could sense the tension coming closer to her castle every step you took down the newly stoned and paved pathway. She could smell your villager blood from miles away. It was a scent she could decipher in a split second. Cow blood smelled cold, almost like a winter morning. But human blood smelled like the moon had created it, making it much more appetizing than a mere animal.

~~~~~~~

You could see the dark bricks of the castle from a far, your wooden sword drawn and ready to strike anything in its path. The forest became silent, indicating a predator was near and hungry. Leaves were heard crunching under fast footsteps coming closer and closer by the second. Your head whipped from right to left, not knowing where these footsteps were exactly.

“Show yourself creature!” You shouted into the darkness of the forest.

“Who are you?” A dark voice echoed in your surroundings, not pointing in a certain direction.

Not shying from her, you answer honestly. “Y/n, of Yorkshire.”

She chuckles, “Ah, so townsfolk, hm?” She watches from behind a tree as you struggle to find where her voice is coming from. She senses your fear, so to make matters worse she drags her nails against the trees creating an ear-splitting noise, making you drop your weapon and cover your ears.

“Ah!!” You shout in pain. As you pull your hands from your ears your skin is coated in the sticky, crimson liquid. “Your time has come, y-you evil creature!”

Wanda chuckles at your struggle, “My time will never come… but yours have.”

Your brows furrow and you reach for your iron bar. You smirk as you hear the hissing of the vampire, her power of sounding everywhere fading significantly, pointing in the direction of where she could be. “Don’t fucking come near me!” She growls, hiding behind another tree.

“Oh, so I found your weakness…”

She whimpers in response, “Don’t t-touch me!” Lighting your lantern, your eyes catch movement, and you grab the chainlink and throw it to where you see her.

“Aha! Finally!” You walk over to her, smirking at her as she falls to the ground. “You are going to grant me a fortune…” You say darkly, looking at her with false pity in your eyes. Around you, a growling catches you off guard. Looking around, you don’t see anything immediately, but what Wanda says churns your stomach.

“Y-your in t-tr-trouble.” She stutters, moving away from you slightly. Wanda smirks and you jump back in fear as a large black wolf shields the vampire. Grabbing your dagger, you lunge forward with no fear.

“She’s mine!” You growl, slashing the wolfs shoulder making him whimper but he pushes through and pounces on you, biting your leg and ripping a chunk of skin off. You scream in pain, and scamper back as He rips the chains off of Wandas body.

The last weapon you grab is your gun. You cock it back and point it at both the vampire and the wolf. “Stay back!” A whimper leaves your throat as you scoot back again, your leg dragging against the damp and cold soil below you.

Wanda glares at you her eyes turning red and a red light appearing at her hands. Before you can pull the trigger, she flings the gun from your hands and your head follows it. Like lightning, your sash of tools was cut from your body and you were flung over Wandas shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Your arms and uninjured leg flail as you fight against the strong grip of Wandas arms around you, and as you look down from over her shoulder you see the wolf looking up at you smugly. He was with her all along, he wasn’t trying to take her too… You sighed and continued to struggle, all the way to the castle, down two flights of stairs, and through a door to a dungeon full of cells. She throws you onto a dingy cot in the corner of a cell, cuffs your wrists with metal cuffs that don’t hurt her, and leaned against the bars.

“Let me go you monster!!” You pull the chains connected to the wall hoping to break them. But to no avail were you able to get out of the rings that locked your wrists.

“Not happening.” Wanda states, staring at you from the edge of the cell. She looks at your leg and her hands turn red once again. You were scared as you felt the tingle in your leg, watching in awe as the chuck of skin missing from your leg was miraculously healed with only a few scars. It was just like the townsfolk said, she will torture you one day, and heal you the next. Making you unaware of what is going to happen next.

You growl and shout at her. “What do you want from me??” You look up at her, tugging and pulling against the chains again.

A hard slap across your face shuts you up, and you fall against the cot in surprise. You feel the hand shaped sting and a bruise already starting to form from how hard she hit you. “You tried to kill me and wanted to kill my baby!” She rubs soft circles against the wolfs slick black fur, and he whines softly as she grazes over the cut on his shoulder.

You look at the wolf who is now eye level with me and you glare as you see your blood staining his teeth. “F-fuck you.” You whisper at him, scooting back as you feel blood dripping from your nose, the act of the slap causing trauma to your nose as well.

“Oh don’t listen to her baby,” Wanda says calmly as she kneels next to the wolf beside her. “You’re such a good boy.” She smiles as he lets out a happy ‘arf’ and you roll your eyes at them.

“He’s a dumb dog.” You scoff, leaning against the cool brick wall as you hold a piece of your dress against your nose. To your surprise she slaps you again, making you whimper once again.

“He’s not just a dumb dog!” She shouts, outraged at your utter disrespect towards her loyal friend. As she was about to lunge at you, a gust of wind blows against your body and you look up to see a greek god of a man, who was formerly the wolf. You yelp in astonishment, never thinking that a werwolf and a vampire would ever be on the same team.

“Mistress, she’s not worth it.” The man says, holding Wanda by her hips as she tries to scratch and punch at you. You scoot impossibly further from them, and you see Wanda visibly relax as the man holds her hips in his hands.

“Bucky, she hurt you… she has to pay.” She whispers, ghosting her fingers over the wound on his shoulder.

He only chuckles and cups her cheek. “Hey, it’s ok… it’ll heal up in no time. She’s weak, it barely hurt.” He kisses her lips, and gently runs his fingers through her hair. You growl and you look away from them, telling yourself internally that you are strong and that you almost had the vampire until the stupid dog showed up.

She only sighs, staring up at him. “Such a good boy, protecting your mistress…” You mute them in your head as you look around, trying to find any way of escape. Pulling against the chains keeping you locked to the wall was not an option anymore, and fighting was practically useless against either monsters. Maybe it would be a good idea to cooperate. NO! No, don’t fall for her enchantment. She is evil.

As Wanda sends a final slap to Buckys ass, he leaves the cell and you jump at the door slamming. It was when you were alone with Wanda that your fear really kicked in. “Hmm… look at you all scared.” She saunters over to you, a sadistic smile pulling at her lips. Chills are sent up your spine and a shiver shortly follows. You are vigorously pulling at the chains, whimpering every inch she comes closer to you.

She sits down on the cot next to you, grabbing your newly healed leg and digging her finger nails into the sensitive skin. “Ah!! St-stop! Stop!” You sob, trying to push her away with all your might. She doesn’t budge and chuckles.

“Now why would I do that?” She raises her brows at your reaction, smiling as you writhe against her, your whimpers music to her ears. She is arouse by your writhing and she digs her nails even deeper, tears free-falling down your cheeks. She ignores your pleas, shaking her head in disappointment. “You hurt my love. I certainly won’t stand for that.”

You turn your head, your teary eyes focusing on the lines of the bricks stacked around you in your small cell, trying to ignore the pain in your leg. “What d-do you want f-from me?” You ask in a shaky voice, trembling under Wandas touch. You are confused as you feel warmth on your leg where her fingers had drawn blood.

“You taste so fucking good…” She whispers. You furrow your brows and you realize she had tasted your blood. You pull at the chains, managing to kick her away from you as you struggle. She growls, having none of what you are giving her. She pounces on top of you, making you groan in pain. “Be grateful I didn’t kill you!”

A pained whimper makes you resent her even more, so you gather spit in your mouth and spew it onto Wandas face. She wipes the spit away in disgust and smacks you across the face again, much harder this time. Your vision becomes blurry and your head feels like it is in a daze. “Please, l-let m-me go,” You stutter, whimpering as you feel helpless looking up at her from your position below her.

She ignores you and she runs her nose against your neck and to your ear “No,” she whispers, her fangs barely grazing your neck. With a smirk, she closes her jaw, puncturing your skin with her teeth. You scream in pain, your back arching against her as you struggle underneath her.

It takes everything for Wanda to not drain you, so she pulls back reluctantly. “Shit, you taste like heaven,” she moans at the taste of your blood, smiling as she licks up the puncture wounds adorning your neck. “Mmm, you look better like this…” She says, looking at your writhing and twitching body on the cot. She bites her lip, her pussy starting to form a slick spot on her under garments. Her smirk scares you, and you stare at the ceiling trying to pull at the chains but failing miserably.

“Please, n-n-no mo-more,” you curl against yourself, trying to hide your vulnerable form from your captor. She smacks your thigh, making you turn around on your back again. She chuckles darkly and bites her lip once again.

“Look at you…” She says, not pitying you one ounce. It takes much strength to try and sit up, but you manage to do so with a lot of pain. Bowing your head into her lap, you beg her to make the pain stop.

“Please! Pl-please it hurts s-so b-b-bad!” The bite pulses in pain, my blood pumping to try and close the wound. Sobs and whimpers make your body shake, and Wanda takes notice to her puncture wound on your neck. She sighs and begins to heal it, gently lifting you up.

“It’s ok…” She says, rubbing small circles on your back as she lays you down on the pillow at the top of the cot. You quietly thank her as you feel the wounds on your neck close, the pain ceasing completely.

“Why are you keeping me here?” You ask in a raspy voice, confused as to why she hasn’t killed you yet. She looks at you with a tilt of her head, thinking as to why she is keeping you. She smiles to herself and comes to a conclusion.

“Because I like you. I don’t like that you hurt my baby, but I do like you.” You shook your head. Because she liked you? What is that supposed to mean? Not wanting to be on her bad side, you take the time to apologize.

“I-im sorry I hurt him. I was trying to make my town finally proud of me.” You sigh softly, scooting away from her and pulling at the chains again.

“It’s ok sweetheart, you’re safe with me.” She whispers.

“Dont you understand that Im scared of you?” You whimper, “Y-you bit me, a-and hurt me,” Your eyes meet hers, your confusion making you angry. “What is my purpose? A-am I just a toy? What am I?” You ask her, salty tears rolling in beads down your cheeks. She sighs and wipes the tears from your skin, giving you a soft kiss on the nose, ignoring your questions.

“You’ll get used to me, I promise.” She smiles and pulls away.

Your eyes narrow, as she stands up, leaving you. “What am I? Pl-please tell me!” You ask desperately, standing up with her but only making it so far until the chains pull you back.

“Ill see you tomorrow, sweetheart.” Wanda says with a soft smile on her lips, closing the cell door and locking it. She makes her way up the stairs, ignoring your screams and profanities as she locks the dungeon door behind her and hanging the keys on the hook right next to it.

When the sun rose the next morning, you waited anxiously for Wanda to come back down. Maybe she forgot about you, or doesn’t want to deal with you. What you dreaded most was the fact she may use you as a human blood bag and kill you. You didn’t fear death, you feared the feeling of your blood draining slowly from your body. The blood bubbling at every bite she leaves on you. The fear blocked the fact that it was morning, and she was most likely asleep in the darkness of her chambers above you.

As you waited, you too fell asleep, dreaming of a place where you would rather be. Safe and in your best friends presence. “Steve… I miss you so much,” You whisper before fully dozing off. Deep in sleep, you don’t hear the metal cell door open and Wandas soft footsteps enter the room. You were too focused on staying warm in your shivering state.

Wanda took note of your cold and shaking body, so she waved her hand and a soft, furry blanket appeared around your body. She smiled as you cuddled into the soft material and watched you sleep for a moment. Falling out of her staring trance, she sits down on the cot next to you. She gently rubs your back whispering, “Sweetheart? Sweetheart, wake up.” Instinctively you lean into the soft hand against your back, but the memories bombard their way back into your head making you sit straight up and scoot all the way back.

You stared at Wanda with wide eyes, scared of her further intentions. You are confused as she hands you a bowl of cut up fruit and vegetables, curious as to where she got this food. “Here you go, eat up.” You furrow your brows and look down at the fruit, picking at it. Fishing for some type of sign of poison. Wanda just chuckles and leans against her hand as she watches you. “I promise, its not poisoned. You need to eat, especially after I drank some of your blood yesterday.”

Exhaling the breath you were not aware you were holding, you pick up a ruby, red strawberry. Ripe and firm to the touch. You close your eyes and let out a satisfied hum as you take a bite, the sweet tasting strawberry surrounding your tongue with glorious flavor.

Wanda moves closer to you, sitting right next to you as you eat. She nuzzles her nose against your neck where two little fang marks sit proudly. You don’t take notice of her fully, the delicious fruit distracting you from Wandas intrusions, even lifting your head up in response. She hums a small chuckle and kisses your cheek, “You are so beautiful, little one. So beautiful.” Freezing your chewing, you swallow and look up at her in slight surprise, her comment catching you off guard.

Butterflies flutter in your belly at the closeness between the two of you, her warm breath against your lips and chin. “Do you really think so?” You whisper, not believing what she is saying at first.

She nods, “I do, you’re so pretty…” She whispers back, kissing the soft skin of your neck. “And you smell so good, little one.” She hums as her nose moves up your neck, her lips pressing soft kisses in between soft sniffs. The gentleness of her gestures makes you drop the glass bowl in your hands, causing it to shatter against the stone floor.

Both you and Wanda jump and she pulls away quickly. “Damnit, I can’t get many bowls or plates these days.” She murmurs, starting to collect the broken shards.

“I-im sorry, I-it slipped,” You stutter, kneeling down to help pick up the shards too. You were too quick with the glass, cutting your finger in the process making you pull back with a wince. A small amount of blood oozes from the small cut and Wanda freezes, her pupils blown full at the smell of the exposed blood.

She holds back, grabbing a small cloth from her dress and hands it to you, “Here.” She says curtly, but she is stopped. She tilts her head as you hold your hand out.

“I can see how much you want it,” You say softly, wincing as she gently holds your hand in hers.

“Are you sure?” She asks hesitantly, softly moaning at the smell as she gets closer. You nod and she brings your finger to her lips, licking the wound and emitting a low hum at the taste. Her eyes close and you look at her curiously. She is in a euphoric state, she is vulnerable and not paying attention when she is drinking your blood. Slowly you begin to become dizzy, the amount of blood coming from your finger increasing by the second.

Before you can warn her, you fall against the mattress, fully losing consciousness at the loss of blood. Wanda sighs, laying down beside you on the bed. “It’s ok, I got you…” She whispers, her hand roaming the front of your body softly. Her hands cup your breasts, her finger grazing your pebbling nipple from under the fabric of your dress. Wanting to feel more, she unties the twine keeping the leather vest of your dress on and she smiles as it comes loose, your breasts showing themselves under the thin tunic.

She reaches down your tunic, rubbing your bud softly between her fingers. Her lips kiss your neck, moving slowly down to your slightly exposed back. You feel her as you sleep, but you can’t comprehend anything to stop her. A small whimper exits your mouth and she pulls away for a moment, waiting for you to settle down again. Once your breathing is even, she explores further, lifting your shirt from your tucked in skirt.

Her hand smoothes over your belly and just over the waist band of your undergarments, pushing under the fabric and to your soft curls underneath. She smiles as she buries her face in your neck, her fingers softly opening your petals and gently running her fingers over your slit. As she holds your folds open, she rubs circles over your clit, making you moan quietly in your sleep.

As she pleasures you, she bites your neck softly only sucking a small amount of blood this time. Your gasp makes her smile around the wound on your neck and it makes her want even more of you. Her finger moves faster around your sensitive bud, your back arching against her front. Your legs open even more as you lay your head back against her.

As she moves even faster, a strong and mind numbing orgasm washes over you, pushing you over the edge. Your legs shake in your sleep, and Wanda smirks as she removes her fingers from your undergarments. She brings her fingers to her mouth and hums in delight. “Absolutely delicious, my love.” She whispers in your ear, smirking as your breaths calm down from pants, to a normal rhythm again. Her hand moves to your breasts again, just holding the soft flesh in her hand and palming against them.

She sighs as she senses you waking up, and makes sure everything is back in order; your shirt tucked into your skirt, tunic back in place, and laces on your leather vest tied with a bow at the top. Sitting up, she frowns at the raw skin and dried blood from around your wrists and unlocks the cuffs. She wraps her hands around the raw flesh and heals them in an instant, kissing them softly.

She has hope that when the sun sets and the moon rises, you will no longer be in pain. “Mm, such a beautiful girl…” She whispers before she leaves the cell for the night, not thinking twice of the unlocked chains and completely forgetting to lock the cell and dungeon doors.

~~~~~~~

You were only asleep for a small amount of time, waking up without Wanda anywhere to be seen. You sigh and sit up, feeling quite odd in your lower regions. However, the lack of metal around your wrists made every other thought disappear. Being able to walk around the cell felt nice, but your curiosity took you further. Right to the door. As you pushed, you were even more astonished as it opened.

Pushing your luck even further, you walk up the spiral staircase to the door of the dungeon. With a gentle nudge, it squeaks open to reveal a large corridor, torches lit on each wall and blood red curtains hanging from each tall window. You were trapped and you were finally free, but the first thought you had was, ‘Where is Wanda?’

You wandered through the hallways, finding your way to the great hall, you come across a grand staircase. Alining the stairs was beautiful red and gold carpet and above it was a dark and spider web-covered, crystal chandelier. It shimmered as the fired torches flickered around the hall. You start to make your way upstairs, and as you walked down yet another hallway, you are stopped by a growl behind you and a searing pain in your leg.

You instantly scream in agony, struggling against the iron jaws of the werwolf. He didn’t let up, even after hitting his head as he dragged you down the hall and to a bed room. Wandas bed room. Your eyes widen and you dig your nails into the carpet, only resulting in bleeding fingers. As you entered her room, you look up in fear as the woman towers over you.

“Well, what do we have here?” Wanda tuts, looking down at you.

You sob loudly as the wolf digs his teeth into your freshly healed leg. You yelp and you look up at her, “I- I wasn’t going t-to es-escape! I wa-wa- AHHH!” The wolf bites down even harder and you try your best to hit him, but it doesn’t phase him.

“Buck, stand down…” She says, calling off the dog. She grabs you harshly by your shirt and drags you to her bed, throwing you on the mattress. “Don’t lie to me!” She growls, glaring at you as you push yourself away from her, scooting to the top of the bed.

At this point you weigh out your options: One, you try to escape and get killed by Wanda, “Buck” the dog, or your village when you get back with no vampire. Or two, you stay here and get food, possibly a lover, and a pet dog. The latter sounded more than enjoyable and you break saying, “I- I promise! Th- the chains we-were off me wh-wh-when I woke up! P-please! I- I don't want t-to leave!”

“Are you sure?” She asks with a growl, crawling towards you with a scowl on her face. “If you’re lying, I’ll feed you to him…” She says, pointing to Bucky who falsely lunges at you just to scare you. As you jump back from him, Wanda only chuckles.

“I-I’m not lying! Y-you’re so kind, a-and fed m-me!” You try, and Wanda sits down across from you on the bed. She grabs your ankle and pulls you to her. Her hands glow a bright red and the pain subsides from your leg again. You sigh in relief, hoping that she will forgive you.

As she looks at you, she shakes her head and sighs softly. “I believe you, but there will be consequences.”

Letting out a breath, you nod in understanding. “Y-yes I understand, please forgive me, i-it won’t ever happen again.” You sob, following her gentle movements as she pulls you to her arms. Your head falls onto her chest and she comforts you as you calm down.

“I forgive you, little one,” She whispers, kissing your head softly and tickling the skin of your arm. “Now let’s go, I need to punish you.” She says, sitting up. Suddenly cold as ice again. Her bipolar emotions confuse you, just like the village said, she keeps you on your toes.

She hardly grabs your wrist and pulls you down the flights of stairs to the dungeon again. You swiftly follow her, trying to keep up with her fast walking pace. Once in the dungeon, she pulls you to a different portion of the room, one full of many torture devices now considered controversial to use. You freeze as you take in the new surroundings and you jump as the bars slam closed and lock behind you.

Wanda steps into the far wall of the room and grabs her tools she desires: Rope and a wooden paddle. You stared in horror at the tools as she lays them down on the table next to a long chain connected to the ceiling. From a hidden sheath on the side of her thigh, she pulls out a sharp dagger, pointing it at you.

She stalks towards you, holding the knife at the height of your neck. Backing up, you whimper as your back hits the cold, metal bars, Wanda then putting the tip of the blade against your neck. “Strip.” She says, pulling away from you. Frozen in fear, you don’t account for her command and you stare at her. To make you cooperate, she sends a glowing ball of energy towards you making you duck in response.

“Im going to repeat myself, and you better listen this time…” She says in a dark voice, only warning you once. “Now, Take off your clothes. Slowly. I want to watch you.”

Swallowing your pride, you obey her. Untying the twine holding your vest over your torso, untucking your tunic from your skirt, pulling the string from around the back, and finally the removing of it all. Wanda was in fact a very patient women, and she made that clear. She growls at your speed and makes her hand light up with energy again. “Slower…” She says. Once again, you obey.

One piece of clothing after another, no less than four (4) seconds between each. Finally, you were down to your brazier and pantyhose. Wanda watches at you, a sadistic smile on her face as she saunters towards you with the dagger in hand. She grabs your wrist and pulls you to the middle of the floor. Of course you struggled. Wanda was angry, and you had only seen a sliver of it.

“Good girl… hold your wrists together.” She says, holding the dagger to your neck again. You felt immense fear as you held them together, and sucked in a breath as a tendril of red energy wraps its way around the dagger keeping it against your neck. Wanda moves around you, grabbing the rope from the wooden cart settled near by. She comes to your front again and begins to wrap a few rings of rope around your wrists. Circle by circle of rope, you were rendered unable to move your hands anywhere, only your arms could move up and down.

You whimpered as Wanda wrapped a heavy padlock around the middle of the rope and easily pulled your arms up to the hook hanging above you. She steps away, taking the dagger with her and moves to the far wall. Using her strength, she pulls the chains connected to the ceiling up higher than it was before, pulling you up with them. You arms pulled against your body and when she finished locking the chains in place, you could barely graze the floor with your toes.

Whimpers left your mouth and you could’t hide the fear anymore. Salty tears fell down your cheeks and landed on your chest and the floor. With false pity, Wanda pouted her lip. “Aw, don’t cry little one… It will only hurt a little.” Her voice was full of lies, and you knew this pain would be excruciating.

Tears fell down your cheeks, but Wanda paid no attention to your emotions, only your reactions to the sensations she was going to give you. In an instant, she had cut through the thin material of your brazier leaving your breasts exposed to her. She smiles and leans down, kissing the ample skin of your right breast. Your nipples harden in the cold atmosphere of the room, Wandas mouth and hand going straight to them. She rubs, licks, sucks, rolls, and pleasures your buds, pushing a burning desire in your lower belly. She could sense this and smirks as she runs the knife down your torso.

She turns the knife against your stomach, tilting it and smirking at the small bit of blood pooling at the surface of the small cut. “Mm, I can smell you… my god you smell so fucking good, little one.” She smiles against your breast and kisses along your belly all the way to the small cut just above your belly button. As her lips encase the wound, she moans in delight at the taste of your blood. Her sharp fangs graze against your skin and she nips as she moves lower.

Her dagger is now in the waist band of your underwear, teasing the fabric, slowly tearing it. As she makes it through the elastic, she puts the knife down and rips your underwear in two, tossing the fabric at your feet. As you stand bare in front of her, she stands back, a smirk adorning her face. “So beautiful…” She whispers, starting to circle your hanging body. You cross your legs, trying to cover your most intimate parts, but are quickly stopped as Wandas hand slaps your thigh. “No, keep them open. I want to see what’s mine!” She growls, smoothing her hand over the skin of your legs.

As she stands behind you, she grabs the paddle, spinning it in her hands. “Alright, how many should we do?” She asks to no one in particular. She hums and chuckles, “How about until you bleed?” She whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe. She takes a step back and raises the paddle, swinging it against your ass, hard. You scream in agony, attempting to walk forward, only moving right back to where you were. Wanda admires the red mark on your ass, smiling as she rubs her hand against your burning skin.

Another swat, another scream. More tears fall down your face with each and every hit from the wooden paddle, yet the fiery feeling in your gut gets stronger. It was a confusing feeling, getting aroused from being beaten.

It felt like ages when Wanda finally stopped. Your ass was sore, bloody, and bruised. A dark black and purple spot forming on each cheek. She puts the paddle down and reaches for more rope. You silently groan at the thought of there being anymore to come. Gently, Wanda grabs your knee, wrapping the rope around it and pulling the excess rope to the hook above you. The raises your leg, slowly starting to expose your slick folds to her. She follows by securing your other leg in the same fashion.

Now fulling spread out for her, she hums at her work. “Are you ready for the good part?” She asks.

You shake your head and look at her, “N-nothing g-g-good is going to co-come.” You stutter, your voice scratchy from the previous screaming. She sighs and shakes her head.

“You poor, little thing. There are so many things I can make good, if only you would obey, and submit to me.” She steps closer, her hands holding your hips.

You look down at her, whimpering in response. Your silence is enough of an answer to her, indicating you were not falling for her games just yet. She removes one hand off of your hip and looks down at your pussy. “Look how wet you are,” she says, rubbing her hand over your soaked lips. You struggle to close your legs, the rope rendering you completely un able to move. Her fingers spread your pussy open, your clit revealing its throbbing self.

Your slick covers Wandas fingers as she dips her fingers close to your hole, smirking at your reaction. “You must be so sensitive, huh? Your ass all bruised. Is that what made you so wet?” She tilts her head up, looking for an answer. You shake your head quickly, not wanting to admit that it was the exact reason you were wet.

To your horror, Wanda approaches the chain holding you up again. She raises it until you are much higher than before, your body swaying with her movement. Wrapping the chain around the hook to keep you where you are, she returns to you, your pussy right in front of her face. “I’ve been waiting to taste your delicious nectar all day…” She says, kissing your inner thighs softly.

You hold your breath as she takes her first taste of you, her tongue licking a stripe right between your petals. Her tongue swirled around your clit, the bud inching to be touched. You can’t deny it, the pleasure that she is bestowing upon you is mind-shattering. The moans from your mouth make Wanda smile, her fingers coming to join her mouth.

She sucks on your clit, her lips closing around it, and her fingers poking at your hole. You try to avoid her but it doesn’t work. As she continues to suck on your sensitive clit, two fingers slide into your pussy. You let out a soft sob, an unintended moan slipping out right after. Something inside of Wanda loves the sounds you make, her pussy feeling the same tension as yours.

As she works her fingers in and out of your cunt, you are already close to your first orgasm and Wanda can’t wait to see it. She witnessed one while you were asleep, but she knew it was nothing like when you would be awake. Faster her fingers became, and your moans became louder as they curl inside of you, rubbing against that one good spot.

One soft graze of her teeth against your clit was what sent you over the edge. Your legs shake, your orgasm passing through your whole body. Your mind was empty and seeing white, your chest was heaving, your pussy was throbbing, and your toes curled in pleasure. But Wanda didn’t stop.

An hour went by. She devoured your cunt, not letting you take a break. Five orgasms later, she finally pulled away from your pussy, letting you rest. You were exhausted, your eyes barely able to stay open and your mind unable to comprehend how long you had been tied up. Wanda looked up at you, kissing and rubbing your legs to soothe you. “It’s ok, little one, its all over now.” She says with a soft smile, your head hanging in front of your arms and looking down at her.

She walks to the wall and gently lowers you to the ground. She unties your legs, but keeps the rope around your wrists. Picking you up, she brings you to your cell again, laying down with you. She pulls your tied arms over her head, forcing you to hold her and she hums as she nuzzles into your neck.

You lay silently, sleep taking over your system. Wanda hums a quiet lullaby, knowing deep down you loved every minute you were in that dungeon. Maybe someday she will move you out of the dungeon and into a room of your own. Or even her room. But at this moment in time, she wanted to hold you and tell you everything is going to be ok, because it will be. She will protect you and never let you go despite your desperate attempts to escape. Some days she purposely lets you escape, get halfway into the forest, and have Bucky drag you right back into your cell.

It is laughable what effort you put into it, even though you know she will catch you Every. Single. Time.

And you accepted that. She won no matter what. You even learned that Bucky really likes his chin scratched in his wolf form, but you both have a love-hate relationship. Always calling him a dog, or a mutt, and him calling you a blood bag.

Wanda kept her word and protected you from anything that was thrown your way. In return, you kept her full of nutrients and energy. She used you for dessert, blood and body both. You learned to love it. Everything Wanda did to you, for you, with you, was out of love. Love and of course, lust. Your blood kept her alive, and she looked forward to it after a long night of hunting.

She deserved it. After all, she saved you from your horrible town, right?