#sound box bluetooth

[ycomgadget]

The Perfect Companion for Your Music: USB Bluetooth Speaker

In the present educated world, having a flexible speaker can fundamentally improve your music experience. One such development is the USB Bluetooth speaker, a gadget that joins the comfort of the USB network with the adaptability of Bluetooth innovation. These reduced at this point strong speakers have turned into the go-to decision for audiophiles and relaxed audience members the same.

Why Pick a USB Bluetooth Speaker?

A USB Bluetooth speaker stands apart for its double usefulness. On one hand, the USB association guarantees a steady power source or direct wired similarity with gadgets like workstations, work areas, and even power banks. Then again, Bluetooth availability permits you to stream music remotely from your cell phone, tablet, or other Bluetooth-empowered gadgets.

Envision facilitating a get-together or loosening up in your room with a playlist streaming flawlessly. With a speaker USB, you can appreciate continuous music without stressing over battery duration, as the USB port frequently serves as a charging choice.

The Rise of Blue Speakers

Among the numerous accessible plans, the blue speaker has acquired prevalence, for its energetic variety as well as for its advanced and smooth appearance. A blue speaker isn't simply a device; a style explanation supplements any stylistic theme. Whether you're at home or outside, this eye-getting gadget adds a sprinkle of character to your space while conveying excellent sound quality.

Versatility and Portability

The minimized size of most USB Bluetooth speakers makes them profoundly convenient. Slip them into your pack, and you're prepared for an ocean side day, excursion, or even a speedy exercise meeting. Many models highlight extra advantages like waterproofing and upgraded bass, guaranteeing they are however solid as they may be utilitarian.

Moreover, a speaker USB offers unbelievable usability. Just fitting it into a USB port to control it up, interface through Bluetooth, and you're all set. This effortlessness pursues it an ideal decision for tech fans and amateurs the same.

Picking the Right USB Bluetooth Speaker

While choosing a USB Bluetooth speaker, think about the accompanying elements:

Sound Quality: Search for speakers with clear sound result and adjusted bass.

Battery Duration: Settle on a gadget with expanded battery support, particularly on the off chance that you intend to remotely utilize it.

Plan: A blue speaker is an in vogue choice, however focus on usefulness over feel.

Sturdiness: Guarantee your speaker is worked to endure day to day mileage, particularly for open air use.

Conclusion:

The USB Bluetooth speaker is something other than a gadget; it's a door to an improved sound encounter. Whether you're attracted to the comfort of a speaker USB or the beautiful allure of a blue speaker, there's an ideal counterpart for your requirements. Embrace the fate of versatile sound and let your number one tunes play any place you go.

Begin your excursion to prevalent sound with a USB Bluetooth speaker and experience the ideal mix of comfort, style, and execution!

[phagodyke]

omg.... my new nearest audiology department actually has an EMAIL TO CONTACT!!!!!!! we're so fucking back baby

[firehandlerfred]

With my WHOLE chest: fuck you bluetooth earphones

[zepskies]

'Twas the Night...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean listens, sometimes when you least expect it. This year, Christmas begins to become something new for both of you.    

AN: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa gift for @eldritchlibertine! The idea is based on this request from @whichwitchwanda (a story prompted from the header image).

Word Count: 2.4K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff and more fluff! Christmas feels. ❤️

A door burst open, and your eyes raised from the page. You nearly dropped your book into your lap when you saw it—the wide, bristled top of an evergreen tree trying to shove its way through the door of the bunker.

Or rather, it only seemed that way.

All the way up at the top of the rod iron staircase, grumbled cursing and muttering and arguing filtered down to you in the common room, where you were leaning back in your seat with an old copy of Wuthering Heights. You sat up, an incredulous smirk beginning to curve your lips.

“Dean, it’s not gonna fit.” That was Sam, obviously. You’d recognize his testy bitching anywhere.

“You kiddin’ me? All that work I spent sawing this thing outta the ground, I’m gonna damn well make it fit. Come on, put your big boy pants on.”

The equally familiar gruff, grousing tone of your man’s voice almost made you snort. You set down the book on the table and debated whether you were going to get up and try to help, or let them hash it out. You were surprised they hadn’t called out for you yet.

After a few more seconds of listening to their frustrated huffing and puffing, you shook your head and got up. You reached the top of the stairs, and their sounds of irritated, breathless struggle became even clearer.

“Dean,” Sam protested.

“Shut up. I’ve almost got it…”

“You’re gonna break the damn frame—”

“Something tells me you didn’t get this thing at Home Depot,” you remarked.

There was a pause, and Dean called your name questioningly. He also sounded a bit embarrassed.

“Yep, I’m here, Chevy Chase,” you said, laughing as you grabbed the branches that were stuck in the doorway. You bent them at the angle the guys needed to get the whole thing inside, and all too quickly you had to step out of the way as Sam and Dean broke through the doorway with the rest of the tree.

Sam caught himself on the wall, while Dean threw a hand out to grasp at the railing of the stairs. You grabbed Dean’s arm to help steady him. Once he had his feet planted, he slung an arm around your waist and looked down on you with a satisfied smile—one that he then aimed at Sam.

“See? Told you it would fit.”

“Where did you even get this thing?” you asked. You eyed Dean in curiosity, even as you were helping him stream the lights around this seven-foot monstrosity. You’d also taken great delight in putting on some holiday music. Now, Frank Sinatra’s “White Christmas” was playing from a Bluetooth speaker on the War Room table.

Dean shot you a distracted smile as he worked in concentration, bringing a string of lights around the part of the tree that was closest to the wall. He handed off the other end to you, and you wrapped the line of multicolored lights around.

“Eh, there’s a nice bit of forest a few miles out of town,” he said. Your brows raised high. You’d suspected, of course, but you still shook your head with a smile.  

“You know you need a permit for that, right?” you said.

“I tried to tell him,” said Sam. He was on his way up the stairs, heading out back to the car to get the box of ornaments he and Dean bought at Walmart this morning along with the pretty multicolored lights, all while you were still sleeping.

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, but just kept focused on his task. Once he started something, he had to finish it, you noticed. And when he got into something, he was Mr. DIY, putting in his all. You liked watching the crunch between his brows, the set of his lips, the sureness of his hands while he mentally calculated what they were going to accomplish next.

Most of all, you liked the look of self-satisfaction when he was done, and happy with his finished product. It didn’t matter if he was tuning up the Impala, making a home-cooked meal for the three of you, or decorating a wild tree. That face was the same. 

“Illegally obtained tree aside,” you said, not bothering to temper your smile, “I thought you guys didn’t really celebrate Christmas. Or any holidays, for that matter.”

Dean gave you a small grin, though again, he seemed a little embarrassed. He freed one of his hands to scratch at the back of his head.

“Yeah, well…weren’t you the one who was talking about the Christmases you had growing up?” he said.

You blinked, your mouth gently falling open in surprise. That had been a couple weeks ago, when the first snow of December began to fall over Lebanon. Late that night, after settling into bed together, you’d turned towards him in his arms. Maybe it was the turn of the season making you nostalgic, but somehow the conversation drifted into you making a confession, about what you missed the most about your family.

Your parents had passed on, and your sister was distant. She had her own family and her own life, and she wanted to keep it far away from the things you hunted. You couldn’t blame her, even if the thought of her always pierced your heart.

Beyond than that, what you missed was the house where you grew up, small but cozy and lived in. You missed the smell of pine and cinnamon that filled the living room every day of December. You missed the nights you and your sister curled up by the fire late at night playing imaginary games, long after your parents’ had put you guys to bed. You missed your mother’s cooking, and helping her bake molasses cookies on Christmas Eve.

You missed togetherness, the feeling of warmth and safety.

You tilted your head at Dean.

“Yeah, but…” you trailed, not willing to finish the thought as another suspicion grew in your mind.

“Just thought we could do some of that this year for you, that’s all,” he said. And he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. His hands were busy untangling some lights. “Matter of fact, we could all use the time off.”

You couldn’t help but pause. Your breathing shallowed, and no matter how much you fought it, tears stung in your eyes. You bit your lip to try and hold it all at bay. When Dean glanced up at you, he had to do a double take. It made you smile, despite your slightly blurring vision.

“Hey, what—”

You dropped your end of the lights and went to him. You raised up on your toes so you could wrap your arms around his neck in a warm hug. Dean uttered a surprised huff, but his arms came around your waist and gathered you closer. He soon realized he was still holding onto the tangle of lights, and he hung them on a nearby tree branch for now. His smile overtook his surprise and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“I love you. You know that right?” Your voice was muffled in his neck, but he heard you well enough. He chuckled and slipped a soothing hand up and down your back.

“I do know, actually,” he said, his voice warm and teasing.

A giggle escaped you. You tugged on his short hair in retaliation, making him chuckle.

“Hey,” he warned, but it had heat of a different kind. His hand began venturing down to your ass, but before he could do some retaliating of his own, a door swung open and Sam came down the stairs hefting a couple different boxes of ornaments.

He raised a brow, though he smiled at the way you and his brother were entwined. You half pulled away to nod at Sam, sniffling at quickly wiping at your face. Dean dried some of the wetness from the corner of your eye with a curled finger. You glanced up at him and couldn’t help blushing, smiling, despite your embarrassment.

Dean still had an arm wrapped around your waist as you peered over at the boxes Sam set down near the tree. One of them caught your attention and made your eyes widen.

“Oh my God. They’re Scooby Doo themed!”

The rest of the afternoon was spent decorating the tree with Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby echoing throughout the common room. After you made a trip to the grocery store, soon the smell of cinnamon, brown sugar and rich molasses joined the scent of pine throughout the entire bunker.

It was a Christmas Eve well spent. The night was filled with a rewatch marathon of Home Alone and Christmas Vacation. You agreed to Dean throwing in Elf into the mix, as long as you got to watch Love Actually, and The Holiday with Jude Law. Dean complained more than Sam about your girly chick-flicks, but he became just as invested in Colin Firth pouring his heart out in mangled Portuguese to Aurelia as you were, if less teary-eyed.

When The Holiday came around though, he was half asleep as he laid sprawled across your lap and the couch. Your nails gently massaging his scalp nearly did him in, along with Sam’s heavy-ass pour of eggnog. It was tradition, at this point.

By the end of the movie marathon, you were the one snoozing from your corner of the couch, your hand still in Dean’s hair.

He carried you to bed that night, your eyelids heavy as you teetered back and forth between slumber and the waking world. At least you were already in your pajamas. All he had to do was tuck you under the sheets on your side of the bed, then slip in behind you afterwards.

His arm draped around your waist, and you curled towards him, half on instinct as you let out a deep breath. Dean smiled as you settled against his chest. Your soft snores soon greeted his ears. Only then did he let himself rest…

Just not for long.

You woke earlier than you planned to in the morning, mainly because your man pillow was no longer beside you. You reached out a hand and found Dean’s side of the bed empty and cold, the covers pulled back. With a frown, you opened bleary eyes and checked your phone. It was around the ungodly hour of 5:30 a.m.

What the hell was Dean doing up at the crack of dawn?

Unless… You paused as your memory served you a grim reminder. Unless he’d had a rough night, kept up by memories and dreams he didn’t always want to talk to you about. It wouldn’t be the first time he came back to bed after a few hours with the heady smell of bourbon on him.

You got up with a sigh, rolling your neck as you did so. You just wanted to check on him. Maybe you could even persuade him to come back to bed.

You threw on a sweater over your pajamas and some fluffy slippers Sam bought you for your birthday—all to shield you from the bunker’s chilly air and ice-cold floors. You’d have to remind Dean to check on the heater.

You padded out of the bedroom and down the long hall…and became distracted by the Christmas tree in the common room. It really was beautiful all lit up. The lights softly flashed in green, red, purple, and gold. Traditional red and gold ornaments hung beside the Scooby Doo themed ones, with Fred and Daphne front and center, along with the rest of the gang scattered throughout.

And then you found Dean.

“Damn it…friggin’ piece of shit ribbon…” 

Dean’s muttering drew your attention to his hunched figure kneeling at the base of the tree. Your head tilted in wonder as your face broke out into a smile. What the hell is he doing? You tried to be light on your feet as you approached him from behind. Peering over his shoulder, you could almost see what he was trying do with some shiny red wrapping paper and a big golden bow.

Your heart swelled. Had he really gotten you and Sam something for Christmas too? He didn’t need to get you anything…

Dean’s hunter reflexes must’ve been tingling though, because suddenly he sat up straighter and looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw you standing there in your pajamas, arms crossed over your robe.

He actually jolted, muttering a curse as he tried to cover up what he was doing.

“What’cha doin’, babe?” you asked. Your eyes gleamed with amusement.

Dean tried to get up, but his foot slipped on a stray ribbon. He careened back onto his ass and knocked into the tree. Not only did its branches poke into his face and arm, making him wince, but he managed to displace a couple of ornaments, sending them tumbling to the floor by his hand. He grunted and raised up onto his forearms. For the pièce de résistance, that lovely golden bow landed right in his lap.

With raised brows, you took in the sight of your man—all bedraggled and looking sheepish (and adorable) as hell. Your hand went up to cover your mouth, but you were unable to quiet the giggle that bubbled up and escaped your lips.

Dean cleared his throat. “Hey.”

You glanced down at the bow, almost perfectly placed in his lap.

“Hey,” you replied, your lips curving into a smile.

You lowered down to kneel in front of him, and you took his face in your gentle hands before you leaned in for a sweet, sensuous kiss. Dean breathed into it. Your eyes shut along with his as you savored the moment, and him.

When you parted, your smile remained as you fingered the shiny edge of the bow. Dean began to smirk as well, despite how warm his face had gotten. His big hands found their way to your hips, welcoming you when you took a comfortable seat over his thighs.

You whispered against his lips, “I already know which present I’m gonna unwrap first.” 

AN: Lol there we go, a cheeky ending for you! Let me know if you liked this! ❤️💚

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[freeabortionslol]

Oscars night (Quinn Hughes x Reader)

hey gang how are we doing on this lovely Wednesday evening? anyways this is my first fic in like forever and it was kind of rushed so don't hate me I just wanted to write something.

summary: fluff, the reader is an actress going to the oscars for the first time with her childhood crush friend Quinn Hughes where there are several tension filled moments between the two until if finally cracks. the reader has a very strong friendship with the Hughes family with Luke looking at her as an older sister

warnings!! cursing, suggestive (???), marijuana, lil bit of angst (maybe), jealousy, mentions of alcohol, kissing, and lmk if I missed any but it's basically just fluffy as hell. I didn't fully proofread and it's lowk rushed but enjoy!!

wc: 4.2k

It was your first awards season with Quinn by your side. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, with you being the same age as Jack. You’ve always just been best friends, but the past couple of months things have shifted and the tension has been stronger than ever. You’re unsure if you're delusional or if he also noticed the way your hands lingered close when he handed you something. The two of you were staying in a hotel room near downtown Los Angeles for the Oscars. You were nominated for best supporting actress, and the film you appeared in was nominated for best picture. Your agent set up the hotel room and when she scheduled the room, she assumed you’d be sharing with your now ex boyfriend. While you and Quinn shared the room, there were two separate beds which disappointed you a bit, but you couldn’t voice it. You stayed in the bathroom getting ready for the night. Your agent wanted to have a hair and makeup team come to get you gussied up, but you insisted that the only person who could make you look the way you wanted, was you. You went for a more laid back look with less bold eye makeup, a blowout, and a floor length green gown with spaghetti straps. You put the final touches on your makeup look and slipped on your dress. The problem was, you couldn’t zip the dress up all the way unless you were trying to dislocate your shoulder. You thought about possibly asking one of your friends to do it when you got there, but the thought of showing up to the Oscars in an unzipped dress was mortifying. You decided to suck up your fears of intimacy with Quinn, and slowly opened the door. Quinn couldn’t hear the door open with the soft sounds of Mac Demarco playing from your bluetooth speaker. He was standing in the mirror fiddling with his tie trying to get it on the right way. You stood in the doorway for a moment just admiring how he looked in his prada suit. His hair hung messily parted in the middle just the way you liked it. You had to beg him to let you do it since he normally opted for the beanie + suit combo. You stared at him as he began to get frustrated. Huffing and puffing as he moved the tie around his neck trying to center it perfectly. You let out a silent laugh with a small smile and walked over towards him. 

“Here let me do it.” You grabbed his shoulders with both hands and moved his body to face you. Quinn was speechless as you untied his tie and began doing it your way. Your eyes were focused on the tie around his neck, but his were centered on you in your stunning gown looking beautiful as ever. He had seen you several times in various different articles of clothing including his own, but never like this. He had never seen you so glamorized before, at least never in person. You fit into it so naturally, and he had to remind himself that you were dressed for your world and not his. He had gotten so used to seeing you in the box wearing his jersey with a pair of leggings, and completely forgot what you looked like doing the things that you loved. The nerves of the night came over him like a wave. Worried that he wouldn’t do the right thing or that he might embarrass you, but nothing beat his thought of wanting to see that green gown on his bedroom floor.

“You look beautiful.” He said in his trance-like state which caused you to look up from where your hands were on his tie. Never in his life had Quinn looked at you like this, or even spoken to you like this.

“I-uh…thank you.” You gave him a small closed mouthed smile to which he returned back. You turned your attention back to his tie trying to cover up the red tint that had washed over your face. “You look very handsome.” You could feel his breath on your forehead as he smiled. His face was now painted with the same red tint as yours. “Lucky to have a guy like you as my date.” You finished with his tie and turned around signaling him to zip up your dress. He very gently moved your hair out of the way and began to zip up the dress. His knuckles subtly touching your bare back as he made his way up, which sent shivers down your spine. When the dress was fully secured he grabbed both of your arms and turned you to where you were both facing the mirror. He placed his head on your shoulder admiring the stunning sight in the mirror. He was taking mental pictures in his head and in this moment he declared that this was his favorite spot. Being so close to you knowing that his lips were close enough to leave soft and rough kisses trailed down your neck. The way he could hear your faint breathing against the top of his head and it made him wonder if your heart was racing just as much as his.

“The only lucky person in this room is me.” He planted a soft kiss on your jawline and walked to the other side of the room to retrieve his phone. You, on the other hand, were left standing in the mirror, but that red tint covering your face had become significantly more saturated. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the two of you arrived at the red carpet before the show, cameras flashed at full speed as people were shouting incoherent things at you. Quinn had dealt with cameras at awards shows several times, but nothing as intense as this. He had to remind himself that you were also a star and being an actress came with more publicity issues than being a hockey player. He was nervous. Not visibly nervous enough for everyone to notice, but enough to where you noticed. You felt bad for bringing him to this crazy event, but you knew that things would calm down eventually. Absent-mindedly, Quinn placed his hand on your hip pulling you close. He felt the need to protect you from the flashing cameras, and he didn’t love the photographers yelling at you to pose in a different way. There was one photo that stood out prominently that you knew would be the talk of the internet. You were wearing a small closed-mouthed smile leaning your head towards Quinn, while he had a stare that could kill as his hand held and strong grip on your waist. This was abnormal for him, as he was always smiling during award show pictures. As you moved down the carpet, Quinn’s hand moved from your waist to the small of your back, making sure that his presence was known behind you. You grabbed his free hand with yours, pulling him to where he was next to you as you whispered in his ear.

“You okay?” You asked as he looked directly into your eyes

“Yeah. I’m fine, just not used to all this.” He let out a slight laugh along with a smile that brought your nerves down significantly. You decided to intertwine your fingers with his and you both moved down to an interviewer from entertainment tonight. When you stopped, Quinn took his place standing next to you, but stepped back a bit. His hand found his way back to your hip which was cut perfectly out of camera view. The interviewer asked you several questions about your movie while Quinn stayed back. His thumb was tracing circles on your waist which sent shivers down your spine, but you did your best to hold back those thoughts during the interview.

“So, Ms. Y/Ln, care to introduce us to your date?” You smiled and placed your hand on Quinn’s shoulder to move him up closer next to you 

“Yes. This is Quinn Hughes. He’s a defenceman for the Vancouver Canucks. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and I thought why not take him to the oscars.” You let out a small forced laugh and Quinn looked at you and smiled.

“So Quinn, how's your first experience at the Oscars going? Do you love it? Do you hate it? Do tell.” Quinn turned his attention away from you and over to something in the distance, not wanting to make direct eye contact with the interviewer or the camera. 

“It’s-uhh…it’s definitely not something I'm used to.” He rubbed his neck and laughed, looking back at the interviewer. “I don’t know how she does this all the time. Truly she’s a champ for being able to walk through this chaos. Put me on the ice in front of thousands of people and I'm fine, but put me in front of a bunch of cameras and I freeze.” You laugh at Quinn’s comment which causes him to crack a smile at you.

“Sooo what’s the scoop here? Are we dating? Boyfriend and girlfriend?” The interviewer asked and you and Quinn immediately froze. Both of your smiles dropped in an instant along with your hearts. Without hesitation, Quinn stepped up to the mic and said “No. We’re just friends. Have been for a long time.” You felt your heart shatter on the red carpet. You knew that the two of you were just friends, but hearing it said out loud? By him? So publicly? It was bound to crush you. You couldn’t stop thinking about how quickly and naturally it came out of his mouth like he didn’t even have to think about it. The both of you said your goodbyes to the interviewer and made your way down the carpet. He made sure to keep his fingers intertwined with yours not wanting you to get lost or taken. He didn’t know why he had that fear, but it definitely showed. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the insane red carpet frenzy, you and Quinn finally made your way inside. His hand was still intertwined with yours as you made your way through the groups of people. You were stopped by several costars and famous actors you wanted to introduce Quinn to. While standing around with Quinn, you excused yourself to the powder room as he went to get drinks for the two of you. The infamous bathroom was filled with women you’ve only ever seen on a screen and you had to fight the urge to ask for a photo while you were washing your hands side by side. You looked up into the mirror, fixing your hair as your hands were shaking. The only thing you could think of was how Quinn answered that question. You were freaking out on the inside and just wanted to ball up on the floor and cry it out, but you couldn’t. Quinn wasn’t the only thing that influenced your nerves, it was also that you were nominated for your first oscar and the thought of losing was killing you. In all honesty, the thought of winning was actually worse. Having to go up in front of an entire room of some of the most hardworking people in the world and read a speech that you wrote in your notes app last night while giggling on the phone with Jack. You held back your tears as you stared in the mirror. You let out a couple deep breaths, each one shakier than the last. Suddenly, as if she was a gift from god, Billie Eilish moved in next to you, hitting her vape pen. The two of you had met on several occasions and have become “Award Buddies” being so close in age.

“Billie.” You let out, trying not to hyperventilate. She looked up from her phone at you.

“Yes?” She gave you a half smile as you stared at her blankly.

“That THC or nicotine?”

“THC.”

“Can I hit it please?”

“Go for it.” Billie handed you her pen and you took a long drag. The smoke already calming your nerves just from the feel of it in your throat. You weren’t a big smoker at all. You only really got high with Luke when he was staying at your house. It was kind of a sacred thing between the two of you, sometimes with Quinn joining along. It was safe to say that your tolerance was low, but you weren’t thinking about that when you took another long hit of Billie’s cart. After three long hits of the pen, you handed it back to Billie, thanked her, and made your way out of the bathroom. You expected to see Quinn at the door when you walked out, but instead you were met with a long line of women waiting for the bathroom. You made your way through the crowds of people standing around, your high still not hitting quite yet. You stopped yourself when you finally found yourself in the eyesight of the bar. Quinn was standing there, two drinks in hand, talking to a beautiful woman. She looked about his age, a bit shorter than you, and her healthy chestnut colored hair fell into flawless curl patterns. Her head flew back in laughter at something he said, his face gaining a smile with teeth which was something he only reserved if he was actually having a good time. You felt your blood boil and your heart sink as you watched this wholesome interaction between the two of them. You watched as her hand reached up to touch the tie that you had put on him just hours before, and you decided that was the final straw. Your territorial instincts kicked in as you pushed through the crowd trying to make your way to the two of them. You reached Quinn and you placed your hand on his back, rubbing it around.

“Hey baby.” You’ve never called him that, but it’s now or never. Quinn was startled by your presence but quickly put his arm around your waist, pulling you close. His touch made your high kick in immediately as you leaned into him. Your body felt like it was melting into his. You visualized laying in his arms at the lake house while Luke and Jack were laughing about something stupid. That’s where you wanted to be right now, not here.

“Hey pretty girl.” He kissed the side of your head and handed you your drink, subtly hinting to the girl that he was taken. The girl only smiled and walked away letting out a “Nice to meet you.” You moved your head into Quinn’s chest and began laughing uncontrollably.

“What? What’s so funny?” He cracked a smile. Your head burying further into his chest as you let out a muffled “Quinny I'm so stoned right now.” You laughed through your words. 

“What are you talking about?” He laughed along with you. You lifted your head up slightly so he could see your eyes. Your chin still rested in his chest while your arms were limp. 

“Holy shit. You were sober when you left me.” He placed his hand on your cheek and smiled. You leaned into his touch and kissed his hand before looking back up at him with a cheesy grin. He let out a soft laugh and rubbed his thumb against your cheek bone. Quinn knew how overly touchy you got when you were high. Every time the two of you smoked together, you insisted he held your hand, or you leaned your head on his shoulder. The night always ended in you lying on top of him because you liked the way the rise and fall of his chest made your brain feel. He moved his hand from your face down to your waist, to which you responded by holding onto his wrist for dear life. You stared at his facial features as a smile grew on his face.

“I love you so much Y/n, but you have to act sober, or the internet will go crazy.” His words made you immediately lock in, suddenly remembering where you were. You removed your chin from his chest but kept your grip on his wrist strong. You widen your eyes, trying to make yourself look less dopey, but Quinn immediately responded with a cringed face.

“Don’t do that. You look crazy.” He laughed. You stayed there with your widened eyes just staring at him, unsure of what to do. Absentmindedly your mouth parted slightly in response to the lazy state your body was in. Quinn quickly took his index finger to your chin and pushed it up to close your mouth.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Making your way to your seats was a challenge in itself. If Quinn wasn’t there you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to make it. He held your hand the whole way there keeping you close as you attempted to make yourself look sober. Sure, you weren’t the only person there that was high, but you weren’t a big smoker, so you didn’t know how to handle it. Not to mention, you’d never been high in public. When you made it to your seats, you made sure Quinn’s hand never left yours. You were in public, but you were still the same girl that gets high at the lake house with his little brother. You looked over at him remembering that he was just as nervous as you were before. You wished he was in the bathroom with you to hit the pen. His leg was bouncing up and down as the lights dimmed, so you removed your hand from his and placed it on his leg, drawing circles with your thumb hoping to calm his nerves. He looked at you with a soft smile that said “Thank you”. As the ceremony went on, Quinn found his hand behind your back, fidgeting with the strap of your dress, twirling it with his fingers. His touch made your face red and you wondered if there were any cameras on the two of you at this moment. Your hand on his leg, and his playing with your dress. You looked over at him to see him only watching the stage as someone was accepting an award. You leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

“Do you realize you’re doing that?” He whipped his head to face you. Your faces now only inches away from each other.

“Doing what?” He asked. His voice low but not quite a whisper. The feeling of his breath on your nose made your heart ache, as you realized you’ve never been this close to him before.

“The strap of my dress. You’re playing with it.” You gave him a slight smile, your eyes never leaving his. He mumbled out a quick sorry and moved his hand away, but you stopped him before he could do so. “No no. It’s cute. Leave it there.” His face turned pink as he smiled at your comment, and turned to look back at the stage. You cheered to yourself in your head at this sweet, and public, intimate moment between you and Quinn. After an hour of people receiving awards and terrible jokes made by the host, your category was finally up next. The high helped your nerves, but you were still shaking. Quinn removed his hand from the strap of your dress and grabbed your shaking one. Your eyes never left the stage as you sat at the edge of your seat in anticipation. Quinn glanced at you with a side eye. He hated seeing you all amped up like this when he’s so used to your calming presence. He leaned in close to your ear. 

“I have a really funny idea to piss off Jack, and throw everyone else off.” You turned to him, your eyes filled with fear, but softening at the idea of Quinn plotting something. It was something the two of you always did together. He was clearly doing it to try and calm down your nerves, but good lord was it helping. 

“What?” you asked, leaning back in your seat, letting him whisper in your ear. 

“If you win, I get to kiss you before you walk up.” Your heart dropped to your stomach as you flipped your head to look at him. Your eyes were in shock and your mouth parted slightly. You knew Quinn would suggest something crazy, but never THIS crazy. The thought of your first kiss with Quinn being in front of the whole world made you sad. You always wanted it to be an intimate moment, maybe in your apartment or down by the lake, but you also couldn’t pass up the opportunity to finally kiss him. You smiled at him, your faces so close to touching.

“Okay. Deal.” You handed out your hand for him to shake. “Jack is gonna lose his shit.”

The moment eventually came. The presenters were announcing the nominees and you got to see yourself in the camera on the screen. Your posture was slumped, you were leaning into Quinn, and your eyes were slowly falling closed. You quickly fixed yourself at the sight, widening your eyes in the way Quinn said not to do. He laughed slightly next to you. You quickly grabbed his hand with your gaze still locked in on the screen.

“And the Oscar goes to…” The presenter left everyone on the edge of their seats as she opened the envelope. You squeezed Quinn’s hand harder than before and he sent back exactly three squeezes which you knew meant “I love you” You looked over for just a split second to give him a smile, before looking back to the stage.

“Y/n L/n!” Your eyes widened more, if that was even possible. Cheers roared from around the theater. Quinn stood up first, holding out his hand for you to take. You were so caught up in the adrenaline rush of winning that you had completely forgotten about the deal you made with him. You stood up slowly trying not to burst into tears of joy. Quinn’s hands were set on your waist, so you rested yours on his biceps. You let out a little scream and jumped up and down twice. Quinn laughed at your reaction before he grabbed your face and planted a closed mouthed kiss on your lips. It wasn’t how you imagined it would be at all. The kiss wasn’t tension-filled or long like how you wanted it to be. You pulled back, your face red, suddenly remembering the deal. Without thinking, still at the peak of your high, you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a longer kiss. You made sure his bottom lip was tucked in between yours, wanting to get rid of his closed-mouthed idea. It was long awaited and hungry. You weren’t thinking about where you were as you moved your lips against his. You pulled him down slightly, letting him dip you. His grip on your waist tightened as you let your hand move to tug his hair. Quinn let out a slight groan as he pulled back and whispered in your ear.

“Not here, Movie Star. Go get your award.” He let out a slight chuckle and you quickly unwrapped yourself from his touch to jog up to the stairs. When you finally made your way up to the stage, all the nerves that had been building up had suddenly washed away. Not only had you just won your first Oscar, but your childhood crush just kissed you in front of everyone. The adrenaline of that was enough to quickly sober you up. Your speech was breathless and short. You made sure to exclaim your excitement through the microphone. You thanked everyone who worked on your movie, your family, and of course your “Sexy Date”. You quickly made your way off the stage, grinning wide with a slight pep in your step. You made it back to your seat looking at Quinn who had the cheesiest smile on his face. He quickly pulled you into a tight hug, burying his head in your hair.

“I love you so much. You’re amazing.” He muffled through your shoulder.

“I love you too. You have no idea how long I've wanted to kiss you like that.” Quinn pulled back from the hug and grabbed your hand to guide you to sit. Your heart began to race as you realized what you’d just said to him. Your mind started running through all the possibilities of what he would say. 

“Baby, I want you to kiss me like that everyday for the rest of my life.” He faced you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. You bit your bottom lip and grinned harder than you ever have before. You shifted your focus back to the stage as you rested your head on his shoulder, his hand finding its way back to your waist. You basked in the glamorous vibe of the celebrity-filled room, realizing the prize wasn’t the golden statue you’d just won, but the man sitting beside you.

Hughes fam & weird neighbor girl

Ellen Hughes: *Picture of Y/n holding Luke when they were kids* Lukey loves his big sister <3 Good luck tonight!!!

lukey pookie: *Picture of Y/n and Quinn kissing at the Oscars* Yeah apparently so does Quinn

jack attack: WHAT DA FUCK

Ellen Hughes: Jack. Language.

captain quinny: What can I say? Couldn’t help myself.

jack attack: Y/n ur bringing me to the next one and I get to kiss you

You: no.

[lolokouhm]

thinking about Geto, who's a really good driver. and it's not like he does some crazy shit on the road, no - he's just so calm and relaxed, tapping his fingertips in the rhythm of some slowed down remix of an obnoxiously sexual song you've decided to listen to. the car is quite old, but he made some adjustments to the speakers, so the sound coming out is full and deep, despite the fact that you're using some shitty bluetooth device to keep your phone connected.

thinking about Geto, who likes driving, but completely adores driving with you in the passenger's seat. it's just another night, same story - he texts you, then pulls up, you get inside and then the two of you drive somewhere, blasting the songs you've found on some weird playlists. these nights feel a little bit like a fever dream - you don't talk much, except for some short updates on each other's life. until you get hungry.

thinking about Geto, who quietly laughs when you announce that you're going to die if you won't get some chicken strips RIGHT NOW, so he drives to the closest KFC on the petrol station in the middle of nowhere. is his car going to be full of fries later on? probably yes. you're not the cleanest eater, but he doesn't mind. you love food and you always have this spark in your eyes when the chicken box is finally on your lap.

thinking about Geto, who turns right from the main road, just to slowly drive into the woods - this weird place that scares the shit out of you every time you drive next to it. you shiver and pout under the checked blanket you've been keeping in his car, but then he suddenly takes his hand off the wheel and puts it on your thigh and it's not that scary anymore.

thinking about Geto, who stops the car in the middle of nowhere, just so you could leave the damn chicken and get right there on his lap, complaining about the temperature in this autumn night, shivering, freezing even, but still completely willing to let him take off every piece of clothing you're wearing. his fingers do it almost automatically - he knows all of these. the hoodie you spilled the coke on last friday. the t-shirt with some rock band's logo you've never even listened to. the bra, which deserves some respect for still being able to hold on, despite the fact he's ripped it off of you so many times.

thinking about Geto, breathing faster and faster with each and every thrust, every kiss, every scratch on his back. the way you're breathing right into the crook of his neck, still shivering, but not from the cold. your lower lip tastes like this chicken and fries but you're still the most delicious thing he's ever had. his slender fingers tapping on the skin on your hips, just like on that wheel before, soft but determined to hold you in place when again, you whisper some sweet nonsenses that make his eyes roll.

thinking about Geto, who holds you tight and doesn't want to drive you back home. not tonight. not ever again.

masterlist ❤️

[putellasawfc]

gingerbread competition!

leah williamson x reader

-

christmas music sounded from the bluetooth speaker that had been set up across the room, the familiar jingle of all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey filling the apartment you shared with your girlfriend of four years with a contagious level of christmas joy. the days had finally began to get chillier, the nights getting darker earlier and that’s all it took for you to get into the christmas spirit, which is why you had a variety of seasonal based activities ready for leah and yourself to partake in during the three day weekend you both had.

originally, you had really planned for tonight to be the night that you unpacked all the christmas decorations that you had stored in the loft and begin decorating your house. but after a long day of filming for different youtube videos and tiktok’s with the other arsenal girls, neither of you could be bothered with lugging down the boxes and bin bags that were filled to the brim with tinsel, baubles, stockings and lights. so instead, you went with the second best option. decorating a gingerbread house instead!

leah had been very scrooge about it at first, whining and wittering on about how there’s no point because it never stays up, even calling the whole thing a scam at one point but you had just tutted, claiming she just didn’t know how to build them properly.

“i do know how to build them! they’re just all flimsy, stay up for about five seconds and that’s it!” she defended herself, her brows furrowed in frustration as you stifled a laugh at how much offence she had taken to your previous statement.

“alright, alright. i believe you.” you teased, continuing to empty the gingerbread house kits you had picked up the day before. “i bet i can make mine look better than yours though.”

you knew the leah williamson could never back down from a challenge, her competitive streak was too high.

she scoffed, leaning forward with her elbows on the wooden table. “yeah right. sorry baby, but you have no chance.”

“well i actually have full confidence in my gingerbread house decorating abilities, so.” you said, dragging out the ‘o’ as you spread the different icings and sprinkles amongst the table, between the two of you. “why don’t we put a bet on it?”

“what kind of bet?” she eyed you, and you thought about it for a moment.

“whoever wins gets to choose an ugly christmas sweater that the loser has to wear to the next event we go to?” you suggested, that being the first thing that came to mind.

the blonde thought about it for a second, her gaze falling to the items on the table before she pursed her lips and slowly nodded, her blue eyes finding you again as she held out a hand in your direction.

“you have a deal.”

you grinned, wrapping your hand around her own and giving her a firm handshake. “may the best woman win.”

now, here you were almost twenty minutes later trying your best to apply the white icing onto the roof of your house that had miraculously managed to stay up for longer than fourty-five seconds, after you had generously coated the sides in too much icing. you would never admit it out loud, but leah was definitely right about the whole thing being flimsy. you had almost given up at one point in frustration after the house caved in on itself a sixth time.

“maybe we should’ve decorated cupcakes instead.” you mumbled, licking off some of the icing that had smudged on your thumb.

“i hate to say i told you so .. but.” the lioness captain huffed, “i definitely told you so.”

“when have you ever not enjoyed saying that?” you shot back, taking a quick glance towards her own house that had yet to be built, the woman deciding it would be better to decorate the pieces first and then stick them together after.

“i have my moments.”

you shook your head in amusement, finally satisfied with the amount of white, red and green icing that coated the house to mimic snow and tinsel. you moved to pick up a small bag of sprinkles that had already been opened by leah earlier, looking into the bag with furrowed brows.

“could’ve saved some for me babe.” you frowned, not even a quarter of the bag was full anymore.

“oops, my bad.” her tone was anything but apologetic, an amused smirk sat on her face and you elbowed her gently.

“you sabotaged me? that’s a yellow card!”

“i didn’t sabotage you! i just had to make my house look good, you wouldn’t understand.” she sent a playful look of concern to your creation and you gasped in mock offence.

“you’re so mean! my little house looks great.” you pouted, “would’ve looked even better if someone hadn’t used all sprinkles but … it’s okay i can still win without them.”

she scoffed at that, before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, aside from the speaker that was still blasting out more christmas tunes as the night went on. you made do with the sprinkles you had left, carefully sticking them to the icing around your house, focusing on the outside of your roof to make it look like colourful christmas lights had been put up. you moved onto picking up different sweets, dotting them around the house wherever you thought looks best, just adding the finishing touches when a groan to the left of you caught your attention.

you raised a brow and looked over, not being able to help the smile that rose when you saw how much leah was struggling with putting the pieces together. she’d managed to get two to stick together, but then the other side would fall down, and then when she’d attempted to stick that side back together, another side would fall down, tangling her in a never ending cycle that was clearly annoying her with the way her brows touched and her jaw tensed.

“looks like your little sabotage was for nothing.” you chirped, revelling in the way it only made her more frustrated.

“shut up.”

you laughed, finally finishing the house before pushing it away slowly, relieved the whole ordeal was finally over. “ahhh, now i get to sit back and watch you struggle.”

“i’m breaking up with you.” she muttered under her breath, intense gaze not moving from her house.

“you’re not allowed.” you swiftly replied, leaning in closer to get a better look at the mess she was making. “maybe if you ask nicely, i could give you a hand.”

she didn’t reply at first, still attempting to finish the task herself, but when almost three minutes went by and she wasn’t getting any closer to completing it, she stomped her foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum and turned to you in annoyance.

“fine. help me.”

“uh, what was that?” you questioned, cupping your ear with your hand.

she rolled her eyes, throwing her head back in exasperation at your immaturity.

“please will you help me build my house?” she asked again, “before i throw it at a wall.”

you grinned, throwing an arm over your girlfriends shoulder and pulling her into your side, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek before nodding. “i’d love to.”

it took a little bit of work, the pair of you bickering back and forth when leah had accused you of putting too much pressure on it and you accusing her of letting go too soon, but eventually, the both of you pulled your hands away cautiously, giving it a few seconds just to make sure before you gave eachother a double high five, pleased that it had finally stayed put.

pushing it back slowly as you had done to yours previously, you both sat back and admired your efforts on both houses.

“think it’s gonna be a pretty close one love.” leah said, pulling up her phone ready to snap a picture for her instagram story, where you had planned to put up a poll to see who’d win.

“hmm, maybe.” you hummed in agreement, “but i think my gumdrops on the roof might just help me win.”

she rolled her eyes once again, but this time with less irritation now that the hard part was done with. “yeah, yeah. if you say so.”

the defender took a quick snap, moving her phone to show you her screen when not even second later did leah’s house fall apart, one of the pieces even landing on the floor with a soft thud.

“you’re having a laugh.”

[blackfemdoll]

𝒰 𝒮𝒪. . . 𝒫𝑅𝐸𝒯𝒯𝒴, ellie williams

black!fem!reader does bsf!ellie’s make up for fun. friends to lovers. yearning. i typed ‘doll’ instead of y/n, replace with ur name. wc 1.5k this is a reupload from my old account!

ellie had no idea why she even agreed to this. she tended to be much more easy-going when she was high, but still. she hated make-up. she absolutely loathed the way it felt on her skin. it felt like a mask — thick, heavy. felt like her pores were suffocating on whatever chemicals made up the composition of the products. and god… don’t get her started on cleaning it off. so much of it was meant to be waterproof or long wear, getting rid of make-up was almost as deliberate of an effort as putting it on.

but then her olive eyes flickered up to catch her face. doll. and the meaning found ellie. suddenly, it all made sense why ellie agreed to letting her make-up-loving best friend play around on her canvas.

doll only wore an absent-minded smile, holding ellie’s soft face in her fingertips as she used a weird egg-shaped sponge to press the concealer into her under eye. pleasantly oblivious. it’s like the pretty woman had blinders on. her gaze was fixed on the little space beneath ellie’s eyes and she was so deeply absorbed into the process of achieving an “airbrushed finish,” she didn’t notice ellie melting to her touch like putty. she didn’t notice those very green-colored marbled eyes drinking her in.

from doll’s beautiful sun-kissed brown complexion… to her thick, dark coils put up in a pineapple bun… to the acrylic nails ellie could feel slightly pressing into the flesh of her cheek… to that playfully delicate smile on her plump, glossy lips… to the silage of spicy sweetness enveloping the both of them. even the dreamy, watery sound of kelela playing from ellie’s bedroom bluetooth as the two of them shared the space of her bathroom — ellie sitting on the sink, doll’s waist wedged between her thighs.

it made sense now.

“i didn’t put a lot of concealer ‘cuz,” doll began, her voice as soft as her fingertips, “i wanted to show your freckles.” she continued pressing the sponge into ellie’s under eyes. “i really like them.”

ellie felt herself melting even more. she was sure doll would be able to feel and see the heat pooling in her pale cheeks — a recipe composed of three ingredients: shock, fondness, and embarrassment.

“really?” ellie cautioned. “i used to get made fun of for my freckles… i kinda didn’t like them.”

doll’s face contorted into an expression of disapproval as she pulled her hands away from ellie’s face and set the beauty blender back into her make-up box.

“they’re cute,” she affirmed and shifted through her box in search of a lip product.

ellie for sure was blushing. “thank you.”

the girl only beamed. her chestnut face radiated such a glow and warmth, it was infectious. she was like the sun. “you’re welcome, el’.” then she grabbed the product she was looking for — her nyx liner and a nyx butter gloss.

setting the gloss down, doll picked the liner up and returned her decorated fingers to ellie’s warm chin (the blushing heated her entire face). then doll brought herself closer to ellie… squeezing between her legs as she lowered the pencil onto her lip. gently, she swiped the colored tip along her skin.

“we’re almost done…” she muttered softly. “just the lips now…”

the paler girl’s entire body grew hot. doll was sooo close, ellie could see the beauty marks speckled around her eyes. her lashes were thick, long, and curly… framing those sweet irises of hers. and those irises were trained on her lips… attentively lining them with a pencil. having such a pretty girl focusing so much attention on her mouth made her a bit nervous. ellie wasn’t undisciplined around attractive women. but this was different. she was different.

“open your mouth a little…” doll instructed. and ellie found herself thoughtlessly obeying, parting her lips slightly so that doll could more easily access the corners of her lips. “good…”

oh god. ellie felt her eyebrows furrow at the hushed praise. she never really was the type of person to just obey someone else. she’s always been headstrong and a bit stubborn. but doll had powers over her that were unheard of. doll could tell ellie to move the ocean with a fork and ellie would do just that.

the coily-headed girl slightly blurred the lining of the pencil with the pad of her thumb. ellie only froze at the contact. and began imagining that the digit was instead doll’s lips — they were so plush, full, and juicy. she wondered how it felt to kiss her.

then doll set the pencil down and exchanged it for the gloss. it was peachy with a touch of red. she loosened the top and then raised her hand up to ellie’s lips. slowly, she painted them with the creamy substance.

“pretty,” doll praised with a smile beginning to spread across her face as the look finally came together. she pulled the applicator away and fastened it closed, wearing a proud expression as she marveled at her work.

it was a soft make-up look, since doll knew ellie hated make-up. “clean girl,” as they say on tiktok. no foundation, just a skin tint. some light concealer. a bit of mascara. some rosy blush and that to die for lip combo. it was worn well on ellie’s face — a nice little complement to her features without overpowering them and overwhelming her.

ellie felt like a deer in headlights. like an alien. she had never been someone’s muse before, so the praises were foreign. she only slouched as she sat on her sink, interlocked her hands together in her lap as she nervously wriggled her toes. her shoulders were high. poor baby was nervous.

“you look so cute,” doll gushed. she noticed that ellie seemed to feel a bit unnerved by the spotlight. but doll couldn’t help but profess how she felt. ellie only awkwardly half-smiled in response, to which doll rolled her eyes and wrapped her hand around ellie’s wrist, tugging it as if to pull her beside her.

“come down, ellie. turn around.”

once again, ellie mindlessly obliged and pushed herself off of the sink counter, easily towering over doll. but the shorter girl’s big spirit made ellie feel a bit… small. not in a bad way… but more like the whole world was doll, and ellie was her satellite.

doll wrapped her arms around ellie’s arm comfortingly with a beaming expression. “look at yourself. you are so cute.”

ellie hesitantly looked up into the mirror, standing awkward as ever. she held the hem of her hoodie’s sleeves in the palm of her hands and raised her gaze to her face. and the reflected image staring back at her was someone she could barely register as herself. she was so used to her bare face that such slight changes in her appearance could almost disorient her, but it wasn’t a negative experience. being so close to doll… ellie could even smell the strawberry conditioning deep mask in doll’s curly tendrils. feeling those soft hands on her face as she stood between ellie’s thighs. it was a core memory.

her rosy-painted cheeks merely imitated her actual flush. at her reflection, she could only offer an awkward little smile. like she was reluctant to admit she actually did look pretty cute. unlike herself, but cute. in a way, her head seemed like it was borrowed from another body in comparison to her hoodie, band tee shirt, and ripped jeans. but it was her.

doll’s own painted face smiled up at her. a soft glam. glitzy and doll-like. beautiful as ever. maxi dress-adorned body molded into ellie’s side. in many ways, they opposed each other. but ellie couldn’t help but love to see them side by side.

“yeah, it does look good,” ellie had to agree. then she pulled her eyes away from the mirror and looked down at her friend. “thank you.”

doll’s eyebrows cautiously furrowed. her happy smile became a bit insecure as she removed herself from ellie’s side. “do… do you like it? you don’t sound very happy.” oh god her voice sounded so small, it physically hurt.

ellie’s eyes widened. “no no no! i love it! you did amazing,” she reassured. then her expression became bashful. “i’m just not used to seeing myself like this.”

doll looked at her curiously as she walked over to the bathroom sink and began assorting her make-up products back into the little container. “like what?” she was turned away from ellie, but they could still see each other in the bathroom mirror.

ellie flushed. “you know… all pretty and stuff.”

doll halted as if she were being insulted. her eyes flicked up into the reflective surface, meeting ellie’s gaze. doll’s face was doused in a somber sincerity and her lips formed a slight pout.

then she turned around to look ellie in her face. ellie’s eyes widened in response to those big, doe-like eyes fluttering up at her like butterfly wings. but doll didn’t react to that. she only shook her head to ellie’s statement and what it implied. then candidly, she corrected her friend.

“you are pretty, ellie. really pretty.”

ellie felt like her insides turned to mush. her breath got caught in her throat as it hitched, and she felt her palms grow a bit moist as her whole body heated in response to her words.

“really?” ellie questioned, feeling her cheeks blush beneath the rare beauty applied to them.

doll nodded. “mhm.” she licked her lips. “you are.”

[ycomgadget]

Choosing the Best Wireless Bluetooth Speakers: Your Guide to Small and Mini Options

With regards to getting a charge out of excellent music in a hurry, best wireless Bluetooth speakers are the ideal buddies. Whether you're facilitating a little assembling, loosening up in your home, or partaking in the outside, these speakers give the comfort of convenientce without settling for less on sound quality. In this blog, we'll investigate why these gadgets are an unquestionable requirement, and how they look at when you consider choices like the Best Small Speakers and mini speaker Bluetooth gadgets.

Why Pick Wireless Bluetooth Speakers?

The best wireless Bluetooth speakers consolidate innovation and style. They interface easily to your gadgets, offering mind boggling sound quality without untidy links. Here's the reason they're the top decision:

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Small Speakers are acquiring prevalence for their minimized plan and powerful highlights. They're much of the time thought about the Best Small Speakers for individual use or for those with restricted space. This separates them:

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While picking Small Speakers, ensure they have Bluetooth usefulness, as this adds additional accommodation and disposes of the requirement for wires.

The Appeal of Mini Speaker Bluetooth

Assuming that you're searching for something much more conservative, scaled down speaker Bluetooth choices are the best approach. Regardless of their little size, these speakers sneak up suddenly with regards to sound quality.

Super versatile: These fit in your pocket or palm, making them simple to convey.

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Conclusion

Putting resources into the best wireless Bluetooth speakers guarantees you never overlook anything, whether you're at home or in a hurry. For more modest arrangements, the Best Small Speakers give superb sound in conservative sizes, while small speaker Bluetooth models offer unrivaled convenientce. Every choice takes care of various requirements, so pick the one that accommodates your way of life and partake in your music more than ever!

[mjlovescm]

Burr basket season, Rodrick Heffley

On top of all of the regular struggles that came with modern dating. There was always the financial struggle and gift expectation. Holidays and birthdays were one thing, but seasonal gift baskets were another. But after you told Rodrick you wanted a burr basket, he had the perfect gifts in mind.

With Halloween gone and Christmas on the way, it was apparently burr basket season.

“Okay, keep them closed.” Rodrick said as he shuffled around you. “Ready?” he asked now standing in front of you.

“Yea.” you told him curiously, unsure what kind of gift to expect.

“Okay. Open.”

Even with your eyes closed, you could hear the smile in your boyfriend's voice. You move your hands away from your face and open your eyes, to find a white basket with a variety of pink items inside. It was wrapped with a bow and beside it were some pink flowers.

“Aww.” you smiled at the sight and picked up the flowers. “You got me so much stuff.”

Rodrick's smile matched yours, sharing your enthusiasm at the gifts.

“I know how you get really cold during winter, so I made sure to get a lot of stuff to keep you warm.”

Though your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, your smile stayed strong.

“Like what ?”

You watched Rodrick pick up a few things from the basket.

“I got gloves for your hands and a scarf for your nose. And one of those thermal cup things so you can drink hot chocolate, and it'll stay warm.” he explained happily, clearly proud of himself.

You weren't sure what kind of gifts you were expecting, but truthfully, you weren't exactly complaining. Though you were sure Rodrick was confused, it was in an almost cute way. But before you said anything to him, you wanted to make sure you weren't just jumping to conclusions.

Peaking your head over the basket, you glanced over the other things he'd gotten you. A box of hand warmers, leg warmers, long socks and to top things off a waterproof phone case.

“Oh, and remember those cute pink earmuffs you saw at the mall?”

“Yea, the Bluetooth ones ?”

The earmuffs were a name brand. They were cute and connected to your phone to play music. But they were eighty dollars, so you highly doubted Rodrick could even buy them for you.

“I didn't get them, but I did get the last of these pink wired ones.”

He slid the earmuffs over your ears and plugged the wire into your phone. You took a second to shuffle your songs and listen to the music. The sound quality was surprisingly not terrible. And neither was the ear coverage.

“Is it working ? I saw Manny throwing them around, but it was past the return day.” he admitted.

“Don't worry, they work.”

Taking them off you traded your ears for Rodrick's letting him hear the music. Liking your song choice, he let the music play on as you explored the rest of the basket.

“Plus Gramma made the gloves and scarf, so guess what ?”

With his ears covered, Rodrick spoke louder than he should’ve.

“What?”

“We're gonna be matching.”

You laughed, realizing why all of Rodrick's gifts were so cold weather based. You weren't sure if you had the heart to tell him. Technically, it was the thought that mattered most, right? Plus, you were more prone to being cold than you'd like to admit.

“You don't like it ?”

Even with a smile on your face, Rodrick could see your feelings were mixed.

“No, I love it. But I don't think you know what a burr basket is.”

His face twist in confusion.

“It's a burr basket, right ? For when you're cold ?”

Not wanting to laugh at Rodrick, you hid your chuckle.

“Burr.” he wrapped his arms around himself and made a small shaking gesture.

Slowly you shake your head “No”.

My full materlist

Snowball fights with Rodrick ❄️🎀

Sunday skincare

[mcverse]

༘⋆✿ Pᴀʀɪɴɢ: Yᴜᴜᴍᴀ Mᴜᴋᴀᴍɪ x ꜱ/ᴏ! F! Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

༘⋆✿ Rᴇϙᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ: Yᴇꜱ/Nᴏ ( @arleccine )

༘⋆✿ Wᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.1ᴋ

༘⋆✿ Tʏᴘᴇ: Oɴᴇʜᴏᴛ Sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ, Cᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ!Aᴜ

༘⋆✿ Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ, ғɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴏʀɢᴀꜱᴍ (ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ), ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ(?) ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ Yᴜᴜᴍᴀ, ꜱᴏғᴛ Yᴜᴜᴍᴀ (ꜱᴏ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴏᴏᴄ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴇ), ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅɪɴɢ

༘⋆✿ Sɪᴅᴇ Bᴀʀ: I ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴘʟᴀɴɴɪɴɢ ᴏғ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ғᴀʀ ʙᴜᴛ I ᴅɪᴅ. Wᴇʟʟ, ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ. Mʏ ғɪʀꜱᴛ ᴏғғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ. ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀꜱᴛ, ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴘʟꜱ!

༘⋆✿ ​Hᴏᴍᴇ

ᴘʟꜱ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴍɪɴᴅ: ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ʙʟᴏɢ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ 18+

​ ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ & ꜱʜᴀʀᴇꜱ ​ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ

"Damn..." you exhale in exhaustion as you place a box in the living room among the others. Yuuma follows, effortlessly juggling the last two boxes in both arms and closing the apartment door with his foot.

He positions the boxes beside yours and shakes his head, teasing, "You lifted, what, five boxes? Quit pretending like you did so much work." A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips when you shoot him a scowl.

"What's it to you? I'm exhausted. It took hours to get here. I don't have vampire-like abilities where I can skip sleep," you retort, turning away with a pout and settling beside the box you had placed earlier. "And out of all the places we could've gone, you pick this city."

If you could even call it a city. By your standards, it was far too small in comparison to the cities in America, but you didn't have the authority to dictate what qualified as one.

Yuuma clicks his tongue and approaches you, giving your hair a gentle tug to capture your attention. "We picked this place together, don't forget. A certain someone couldn't handle long-distance, so we made a compromise on Nakari University."

You groan and shut your eyes as the memory replays in your mind, causing you to cringe with secondhand embarrassment. It's the recollection of a particularly raw and emotional pillow talk with Yuuma.

It was perhaps that display of vulnerability that led to both of you deciding to attend the same college instead of going your separate ways for your bachelor's degrees.

Somehow, you had a feeling he'd never allow you to forget that.

"That's what I thought," he tease playfully in response to your silence, leaning down and catching you off guard with a quick peck on the lips. "Now, quit lounging around. The quicker we unpack, the sooner you can sneak in a nap."

You nod, smiling at him. "And a shower. I would really enjoy that."

He takes a sniff of the air, raises an eyebrow, and nods in agreement. "You've got that unmistakable scent of sweat."

You decide to dismiss his comment since nobody sought his agreement, and you're becoming tired of his teasing. Pointing out your scent isn't fair when he consistently carries the fragrance of Gardenias around him.

"Could you play some music? My phone's in my purse over there, and my mini speaker’s right next to it," you ask him, opting not to get up since he was already standing.

He complies without hesitation, effortlessly unlocking your phone because he knows the password, while simultaneously turning on the Bluetooth speaker. "Do you have a specific song, or should I shuffle?"

"Shuffle," you mumble, your mind already focused on unboxing the boxes within your reach.

He hums, starting to play your liked list and then proceeding to unbox the last two boxes he brought in. Amidst the melodies playing through the speakers, the sound of ripped tape on cardboard boxes could be heard quite loudly.

The speaker volume is evidently too low. Just as you're about to nag Yuuma to turn it up, you perk up at the instrumental of "What He Don't Know."

"Oh, this is my song! Yumi, crank up the volume!" you exclaim, pointing at your phone and snapping your fingers to prompt him. As he adjusts the volume and turns it up, your voice also rises as the lyrics begin.

"What a goofball..." he murmurs quietly as he leans against the wall, a soft smile on his face as he observes you singing your heart out at the highest volume. You sing so loudly that you forget about your task and wave your arms around, as if the lyrics resonate deeply within your soul.

“I want to make you do bad things that he can’t teach you, same places he can’t reach to!” you sing, bopping to the beat with enthusiasm.

Yuuma raises a brow at those lyrics, straightening up slightly as he shifts his attention more to the music than to you. What kind of song was this?

“We can play this dirty game, while he’s away, ain’t that why you came. You whisper in my ear soft and low, “ you pause a beat before matching the energy of the chorus, “What he don’t know won’t hurt him. Don’t know won’t hurt him, don’t know won’t hurt him.”

His eyebrows furrow now, his mind trying to piece together why you're vibing so easily to this song. It’s about cheating, and he’s wondering why you seem so into it. You're not a cheater, right? At least, not in anything but Monopoly, he thinks.

“Simple touch just enough, to tell me you like it rough. You say you want to leave him. Secrets always stay sweet and on the tip of your tongue, like a loaded—“

The song abruptly stops, making you snap your head towards the source. You find Yuuma holding your phone in a tight grip. However, his expression is inscrutable, and you can't tell how he's feeling right now. What you don't know is that Yuuma has heard enough, and he didn't like it, not one bit.

"I was listening to that!" you whine, slumping sadly as you shoot him a disapproving frown.

He ignores your complaint and instead shoots a question at you, "Since when did you start listening to songs like this?" He gives you an expectant look, his eyes piercing as he awaits your reply.

He wants to know.

"What? Recently. It's one of my new favorites," you reply, still puzzled by his reaction. Why was he so concerned about the song?

"Where did you hear it?" he fires off another question, his voice slightly strained, and his throat feeling dry.

He needs to know.

You shrug, rolling your eyes at his barrage of questions. "I don't know. I just can't stop listening to it on repeat."

Yuuma wasn't pleased with your answer. His mind raced, thinking that you must have heard the song in a social setting where he wasn't present. Why else would you be listening to a song like this?

He gazes at you for a moment before a smirk slowly creeps onto his face, and he starts walking toward you, each step filled with playful taunts. When he reaches you, you're gazing up at him with a doe-eyed expression, and he can't help but find it amusing. You look just like caught prey.

"Is there someone I should be worried about?" he teases, his hand gently tilting your chin upward as he encourages you to stand up to your full height.

You were left speechless, to say the least. Yuuma's teasing was usually light-hearted, but this time, there seemed to be an undertone to it. The only occasions he got like this were when he was upset or in a bedroom mood.

It left you even more puzzled. What had you done in such a short time to agitate his nerves? And if that wasn’t the case, why did he suddenly seem turned on?

"Don't make me repeat myself," Yuuma prods at your silence, taking a step forward. In response, you take steps back until your back hits a surface.

This leaves Yuuma closing the distance between you, effectively trapping you between him and the wall. He demands, "Answer me, sow."

Yes, he was angry and turned on. He only ever calls you that during that particular moment, understanding how belittling it would be outside of that context and how it didn't fit with someone he comes to love.

"Why are you upset?" you whisper as his eyes travel to your lips, your breath hitching when he runs a finger from your ear down to your shoulder, teasingly tracing a path with his touch.

You instinctively turn your head, baring your neck to him. He hasn't fed since you arrived. Maybe he was upset because he was hungry?

His hand slowly travels from bare your shoulder, down your collarbone, past your breast, skipping past your belly button to linger around the loose waistband of your baggy ripped jeans, playing with it. “Are you pretending to be a dumb bitch in heat right now, baring your neck to me because you know what you did wrong? Or can my baby really be this dumb?”

You shake your head, mumbling “I’m not dumb..,” but you certainly feel like it when all his words do is shoot right down to your lower region that begins to ache for some attention instead of feeling repulsed by them.

Suddenly, you’re all too aware of how far Yuuma is despite how close, and you pull him flush against your body with your arms circling around his waist.

You didn’t care what he was mad about right now. Whatever the reason may be, you can talk about it later because you knew where this attitude would lead next.

He started it, and he damn sure was gonna finish it. He’ll make you forget those damn lyrics until the only thing singing from your lungs is his name and sweet mewls just for him.

He chuckles lowly at your words, at your reaction to his. Your body betraying your defensive words, choosing him over your brain that he was going to fuck to mush on his dick later.

"No, you're not dumb?," he falsely coos, rubbing his nose against your cheek before planting ghostly kisses on your jawline that lead to your ear. He teasingly bites your earlobe and whispers, "That’s not what I wanted to hear…I’ll just have to finger you till you are."

In just seconds, you find yourself clutching his shirt tightly, your back arching away from the wall as Yuuma effortlessly slips his hand beneath your waistband, cupping your sex as his middle finger applies pressure to your clit.

“You have to be dumb, sow,” he sensually hisses, increasing the pressure, keeping a firm grip on your hips just as they threaten to move, “Listening to songs like that ain’t fair to me. Haven’t I been good to you?”

"W-What?" you wearily reply, too busy focusing on the meager pleasure he's giving you and trying to wriggle free for more when he refuses to move on his own. You huff in annoyance at his strong grip on your hip. "Yuuma," you whine, leaning your head against his chest.

You feel his lips pressing gently against the side of your head, and it makes the feeling between your leg throb just as much as the muscle in your chest. How can he embody both tenderness and playfulness at the same time? He physically holds you in his hand, weaving a tapestry of serious and teasing words, yet he hasn't fulfilled your most profound desires.

"Yes?" he replies, and though you can't see his face, the sound in his voice hints at his smirk transforming into a wicked grin.

You gulp heavily, your mind racing to keep up, but the overwhelming heat coursing through your body makes it difficult to concentrate. All you desire is for him to move his wrist in a specific manner, back and forth repeatedly, at a speed that threatens to make your eyes cross.

What did you need him to do again, oh yeah, “Stop playing with me.” you grumble, “I wanna cum, I want you to make me cum.”

"Who said I was playing?" he responds with all seriousness, sliding his hand up an inch to slip into your underwear, reclaiming the same position. However, this time, he applies the same pressure and starts moving in a circular motion at a speed that leaves you gasping for air in surprise, “Who said I play when it comes to you?”

"F-Fuck!" you whimper shakily, your eyes tightly shut in response to his astonishing pace, one that no human man could ever hope to match. The sensation is so overwhelming that your legs instinctively begin to close, but Yuuma halts them with a leg of his own, pushing you further open.

“Do you think I came all this way with you, just to hear you sing a song about leaving me just as we got here?!” he growls deeply, forcefully tearing your tank top apart and splitting your bra in two before settling back on your hip.

The sight sends a shiver down his spine, and he licks his lips as he hears your pulse quicken and sees your veins dance, “You look so good…you taste so good.”

You moan in response to his words, unable to articulate a single coherent syllable, even though this is only the appetizer; it happens every time.

Your anticipation intensifies as his touch momentarily retreats from your throbbing clit, only to descend to your core, where he circles, gathering slickness before resuming his attention to your sensitive bud.

A mixture of desire and a subtle tinge of shame colors your thoughts as you imagine him doing this with the intention of withdrawing his hand to sensually suck on his fingers while repeating those alluring words.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, his grip on your hip tightening, “I bet you'd feel incredible wrapped around me—so tight, so warm. Do you think you can handle me right now?” he asks thrusting his hips forward suddenly and forcefully, causing you to jump with a gasp. It may not have directly touched you, but the impact against his hand was enough to make the knot in your stomach to grow tighter.

His hand abandons your hip, choosing instead to wrap his arm around your waist, securing you as your knees start to tremble under the approaching wave of pleasure. Your mouth hangs open, emitting short, ragged breaths. He observes it for a moment before deciding that he wants a taste.

You moan into the kiss, your tongues dancing together as you clutch his shoulders. In your passionate embrace, he unconsciously blocks your access to air, leaving you breathless and growing dizzy.

Yuuma thoroughly explores every corner of your mouth with his, greedily eats up all the noise you make before he eventually pulls away. A glistening strand of saliva briefly connects you both before it breaks and rejoins the pool of drool in the corner of your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum!” you warn him, pulse picking up to the point of numbness, your body hot and drenched in sweat, causing your torn clothes to stick uncomfortably to your skin. But all of that fades in importance when Yuuma abruptly halts his movements altogether.

Your eyes snap open, and you shoot him a displeased glare, your brow furrowing as you tug at his shirt in irritation. "No! Yuuma, I was so close!" you complain, arching your hips to seek the lost friction. It feels like you were ascending the highest peak, only to suddenly tumble down without any apparent reason.

His gaze remains locked onto yours, and he delivers the most frustrating statement since his irritation began, "I didn't give you permission to come.”

"Okay! Enough with the attitude, Yuu—ah!" you're cut off by a drawn-out moan that blends both pain and pleasure as he simultaneously bites down on your neck and slips a finger inside you. He groans against your skin, whether from the taste of your iron on his tongue or your tight grip on his finger, you're not entirely certain.

He wastes no time, thrusting into you with precision, his wrist flicking sharply while his thumb rubs your clit simultaneously. The pressure in your stomach builds up once more, and you reach down to keep his hand in place, silently praying that he doesn't stop again because it feels fucking delicious.

The throbbing in your pussy matches the pulse in your neck, and you can't help but wonder if he can sense how perfectly in sync they both are. The thought makes your eyes roll back, revealing more white than iris. He adds a second finger, curling them expertly as they press against the sensitive spot within clamped walls, causing your toes to curl and making you even tighter.

Yuuma breaks away from your neck, muttering a curse as he reaches his long arm further behind your back. He seizes your baggy jean leg, pulling your leg off the floor toward your body where he can grip the back of your knee. The stretch is deliciously painful in the best way, encouraging him to delve knuckle deep inside you.

The sounds of smacks resonate loudly, a clear indicator of how aroused he's made you. He breathes heavily while studying your body, declaring, "I’m the only one who can make you feel like this," he says, moving back towards your neck to plant kisses near your sensitive spot.

You whimper and shiver, the area tingling with slight soreness, “Only I could see you like this… legs spread open like a slut, taking what I give you in your messy pussy.”

Floating. It's as if you're weightless, carried higher by his words, each one pushing your climax to new heights. The sensation is almost achingly tight, and the promise of sweet release is tantalizingly close. Just one more push, and...

"Cumming, cumming!" you cry out, holding onto him tightly. Tears actually well up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you, completely shattering your mind.

All that escapes your lips are chants of his name, nothing else. Your stomach tightens, and your muscles spasm as you gush onto his hand, even as he continues to abuse your pussy at the same tempo. It's so intense that you feel dizzy within the throes of your climax.

Your body becomes pliant as the euphoria settles in, soft sighs and mewls escaping your lips. "Yuuma," you pant, "Yuuma?" you call out again, but he continues to ignore you.

Instead, he withdraws his hand from your jeans, moving away slightly to lift you up into his arms. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as his hands find purchase on your hips, drawing you close. So close that you can feel the bulge in his pants brushing against your covered sex.

Without a chance to ask a question, he kisses you with insatiable hunger, tilting his head to intensify the passionate connection, his lips devouring yours.

One of his hands reaches back, squeezing your ass, eliciting a wanton moan from you. When he finally pulls away, you're left feeling thoroughly turned on again, especially as you see the desire burning in his dark, lust-filled eyes.

"We're going to fuck, and after that, you're going to delete that stupid song, got it?" he orders, his jaw tense as he waits for your confirmation. He smirks when he receives a nod, accompanied by a shaky sigh.

"Good girl."

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman - Part 7

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words : 4k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Friday, October 23rd; 11:35 AM - Cafeteria

I can hardly believe I’m going home. My suitcase has been packed since last night. I couldn’t help but share the news with Alexia when we were alone. She was super happy for me. We’re finishing up our meal. Everyone gets to go home this weekend. I called Sam this morning to confirm my return. We decided to surprise Joan. If I managed to have the permission to leave , it’s all thanks to him. When I saw him on the screen last Saturday, he cried like a baby because I wasn’t there. I realized how much he misses me. I can’t wait to set foot in Barcelona and see everyone again.

"Hey Ona!" Alexia calls out to me.

"Huh?" I reply, snapped out of my bubble.

"There we go, we’ve already lost her," Caudia laughs.

"Sorry," I say, my cheeks red, unable to deny it.

"Are you planning to celebrate your birthday this weekend?" Alba asks.

"I plan to enjoy time with my brother and best friend," I shrug. "No party planned... At least not by me."

"Hey, we need to exchange numbers! I want to hear all about your weekend!" Ale enthuses.

"No problem." I smile at her, agreeing with the idea. It’s true, we haven’t even exchanged numbers yet. The rules significantly limit our phone usage.

"Well, should we give it to her?" Patri asks with a big smile. "We’ll be late otherwise!"

"Yeah, she’s right," Lotte agrees.

I frown, not understanding what’s going on. I seem to be the only one judging by everyone’s smiles. I focus on Alexia, who’s pulling out a square-shaped gift with a little bow on top. I freeze for a moment, looking at her with wide eyes. She smiles, amused.

"Oh no..." I murmur. "You’re not serious, right? Why did you do this?"

"Come on, open it, Princess," Leah encourages.

I don’t know what to say. The tray is taken from me, and Alexia places the gift in front of me. I groan, hating being the center of attention. I take my time unwrapping the gift under my friends’ watchful eyes. As soon as I pull a strip, the contents are revealed. I pause for a moment. I can’t believe what’s in front of me. It’s the new AirPods Max. I look around the table, speechless. I wasn’t expecting a gift like this... Actually, I wasn’t expecting a gift at all.

"You guys are crazy! This thing is expensive!"

"It was Alexia’s idea!" Patri blurts out.

This revelation makes me turn my head towards her. She shrugs with a small smile stretching her lips.

"I know you like listening to music before you sleep. Maybe this will stop me from hearing it," she giggles.

"Ha ha!" I fake laugh. "But seriously, it’s too much! You shouldn’t have."

"You should thank Bronze too," Leah surprises me by saying. "She covered the difference we were missing and took care of getting it... That’s why Alexia ditched us yesterday," she laughs.

"Bronze?"

I don’t hide my surprise. I wasn’t expecting that... It’s very surprising, but it makes me very happy deep down. She didn’t have to do it. I wonder why she did.

"Wow... Thank you anyway. Thanks for everything! I’ll use it right away on the trip."

"Phew, we nailed it!" Alba comments, making everyone laugh.

We have to end this good vibe due to the time. Everyone needs to go back to their rooms to avoid being late. I get everyone’s numbers written down on a piece of paper and take the opportunity to thank them again. With my gift and its packaging in my bag, I return to our room with Alexia. I quickly discard the paper and sit on the bed with the box. I open my gift like a child at Christmas under Alexia’s amused gaze. It’s really beautiful. It’s the best gift I’ve had in a long time. I quickly understand how my new toy works. I test it immediately by connecting it to my phone via Bluetooth. At the same time, I take out the rest of the box. I find a protective case. I smile when the sound reaches my ears. The sound quality is really good. I let Alexia try it while I gather my things. She’s as excited as I am to check it out. When I’m done, she hands back the headset, and for the first time, I take the initiative to hug her.

"Enjoy your first weekend."

"I plan to. I don’t know how the next one will be though..."

I’m not sure about my next outing. For all I know, I’ll be stuck here alone again. She laughs, understanding what I mean. It’s not hard to figure out. It’s my first outing in three weeks. I look at her attentively and can’t help but smile, thinking about all we’ve been through together.

"I really appreciate you, Ale."

"I know."

"Sorry for my issues... You know, with relationships... You’re my friend. Like everyone else here."

"We know, Ona. Don’t worry. Just know that I’m here if you ever want to talk."

I nod, hugging her again. I turn back to my stuff. I have a lot to take for a first return. It’s like I’m leaving for good, but not at all. I just feel obliged to bring everything back with me. Since we wear uniforms during the week, I’m bringing back a lot of clothes that just clutter my closet. I’ll have to sort through at home what will come back since I can only wear them on weekends.

"Are you waiting for Alba?"

"Yeah, she shouldn’t be long."

"Well... See you Sunday night then. Have a good weekend!"

We kiss each other goodbye, and she wishes me the same. I leave with a smile on my face, my Eastpak backpack on and my suitcase behind me. I put my headset around my neck, intending to use it once I’m out of here since we can’t use them inside. My smile broadens when I see Bronze waiting behind the door. We haven’t seen each other since the room check this morning. She promised to accompany me to the exit, and I’m glad to see she kept her word. I didn’t want to leave sneakily, especially after learning about the gift. The least I can do is thank her. For that, and because it’s partly thanks to her that I get to leave. I close the door behind me before starting the conversation.

"Hey Bronze!"

"Nice headset," she begins. "Too bad it’s forbidden in the facility," she retorts, gently taking it off me.

"Hey!" I exclaim, parting my lips slightly. "You’re not going to confiscate it, are you?"

"No," she laughs. "Even though I should. I’ll give it back when you’re outside the camp."

A sigh of relief escapes my lips. I almost thought she’d keep it for the weekend. She would be capable of it, I think. She can be a real viper when she wants. She’s given me enough trouble to know that.

"I wanted to thank you... You didn’t have to do that."

"I know, but it makes me happy," she smiles. "Come on, let’s go. It would be a shame to miss your flight."

I smile, following her. We walk to the fence in silence. She just helps me carry my suitcase down the stairs, seeing I was struggling. It’s heavy with everything I’m bringing back!

"Are you finally going to make room for your uniforms in your closet?"

"Oh come on," I mumble. "I couldn’t have imagined we’d have uniforms here."

"You could have organized your closet in the last three weeks."

"If it bothers you so much, just don’t look in it," I mumble. "I already forced myself to know you rummaged through it."

"I told you I didn’t rummage."

"You did! You’d never have found my computer otherwise!"

"Are we going to debate this again? Where did all your progress from this week go?"

"Still here... For the gift you gave me."

"Good thing I participated then," she concludes as we reach the gate. "Wait here, I’ll be right back."

I nod, watching her head to the reception building without waiting for my answer. She returns a minute later with a package in hand. I frown.

"What’s this?"

"Another gift. Open it tomorrow for your birthday."

"But you already contributed to the headset."

"So? At least I’m sure you’ll keep up your progress," she teases.

"Ah, I get it!" I joke. "Thanks anyway..."

My embarrassment seems to amuse her. I didn’t expect her to give me gifts after making her life hell for three long weeks. I doubt she does this for all her students.

"I expect you not to do anything stupid this weekend. I think you know what I mean by that. And especially don’t try to run away and not come back. I’m not done with you yet."

I roll my eyes. "Don’t give me ideas," I laugh.

"I’m serious, Ona. I’d be capable of coming after you."

"Don’t worry. I’ll be good as gold."

"I’d like to see that!"

"You don’t know who I really am."

"I know. Have a good weekend. And seriously, no nonsense, especially if you celebrate your birthday."

"Promise, mom."

She hits my arm for the nickname that slipped out. I laugh and walk through the door she holds open.

"Thanks for everything, Bronze. See you Monday... Have a good weekend too."

"Thanks, see you Monday, Ona," she smiles.

I smile back and turn to greet my taxi driver. She loads my things into the car. I give Bronze one last wave. I’m about to get into the car but turn back sharply when I see what she’s holding. I walk back, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"You scold me for taking it, but you forget it. Next time, I’ll keep it for the weekend," she smiles, amused.

"Not a chance. Thanks for not doing it," I say, taking back the headset.

"Go on, see you Monday."

I smile and finally get into the waiting taxi. I take a deep breath once inside and buckled up. The driver looks at me through the mirror.

"To the airport, right?"

"Yes, please."

"Let’s go," he smiles, pulling onto the road.

I smile foolishly, still not believing that in a few hours, I’ll finally set foot in my city. Away from this camp and everything related to it. I shut out the world by turning on my new headset to enjoy my music during the trip.

Friday, October 23rd; 11:15 PM - Airport

The trip wore me out. I wonder how that’s possible since I slept the whole way. I can’t even blame jet lag since it’s only 10 PM at Manchester . It’s always amazed me. I’m lucky it’s in this direction. At least if I get up early, it will be later here. I follow the crowd out of the plane. My feet are numb from sitting for an hour. My headset is still on my ears. I’m surprised by its battery life, considering it wasn’t fully charged when I left. I turn it off when I reach the airport. The music gives way to the bustling hall. It’s definitely the best way to wake up. I scan the crowd, hoping to spot a familiar face. I freeze when I finally do. Before I can gather my thoughts, someone jumps on me, clinging to me as if their life depends on it. I hug them back as tightly as I can, grinning widely.

"Oh my God, Maps! »

I can't hold back my tears that roll down her neck. She tightens her embrace and laughs at my behavior. It's not like me to be so expressive in public, but it seems the pressure is finally lifting.

"Wow! Has this camp transformed you or what?" she says, stepping back to look me up and down. "Is it just me or have you lost weight?"

I chuckle as I look at myself. It's true that I had to check the number on the scale twice the last time I weighed myself.

"Yeah, thanks to the sports they make me do as punishment," I reply.

She laughs as we join my chauffeur, who is not far from us.

"Hi Hector."

"Good evening Ona, how are you?"

"Much better since I set foot here," I chuckle, wiping my cheeks.

"Let's get your suitcase."

"Yep."

We head to the conveyor belt where I find several people from my flight already waiting to collect their luggage. I retrieve mine when it arrives. Hector insists on taking it for me. I don't resist, but I don't let him have my backpack that I was able to keep on the plane. We head towards the exit. I take the opportunity to take out my phone and send a message to Alexia. I had promised to write to her upon my arrival. This action doesn't go unnoticed by Mapi.

"Who are you texting?"

"My roommate. She asked me to write when I landed."

"So... I leave you for three weeks and you've already replaced me!"

"Of course not," I giggle, putting away my phone. "No one can replace you, Maps. I'm sure you'd even love her."

"What's her name?"

« Alexia Putellas. She'd be your type of girl…"

« Intresting… »

She raises her eyebrows suggestively while laughing. I roll my eyes with amusement. Luckily, Hector has gone ahead to give us some privacy. That saves him from hearing a lot of nonsense.

"So Octavia could be my type? Anyway, all girls can be my type as long as they're pretty."

"I know, and exactly. She's very beautiful."

"And you haven't hooked up with her yet?" Mapi exclaims.

"I don't do one-night stands," I laugh. "And she's become a friend, so never in my life!"

"You're really hopeless! You never take advantage of situations!"

"You say that, but aren't you in a relationship now?"

"Yeah," she sighs. "I don't know if I made the right choice. I've lost all my freedom... She's super possessive!"

"That bad?" I laugh. "What's her name again?"

« Ana. I'll introduce you to her tomorrow if you want."

"No problem," I say with a smile. "Does she know you're here?"

"That I'm picking up my ex at the airport who is now my best friend? Are you crazy?! She'd kill me!"

I burst out laughing. So she lies to her girlfriend for me. I appreciate that she always puts me first, no matter what. She must have come up with an excuse I'd never want to know. She's so bad at this sort of thing, or maybe I just know her too well.

"By the way..."

"By the way?" I prompt her to continue.

"She knows you're my best friend, but not my ex... So if you could keep that to yourself."

"No problem, I understand. And what are you doing here anyway? I didn't think I'd see you tonight."

"You really thought I'd let you land alone? I canceled all my plans when you told me you were coming back! I immediately wrote to Sam to let Hector know to pick me up before getting you."

I smile. What did I say, always a priority. I'm happy to see her. I missed her a lot.

"Are you sleeping over?" I suggest.

"Of course, what kind of question is that! But according to Hector, Joan has taken over your bed for the night. We'll have to squeeze in."

Joan sleeping in my bed during my absence? I didn't think my departure would affect him so much. He used to do that when I slept at Mapi's. I start to feel guilty for not telling him about my return... I convince myself it's for a good cause. I'd give anything to see his happy little face when he sees me. It will be my best reward.

"It's not like we're not used to it."

"That's true," she laughs. "He misses you, you know."

"I know," I sigh. "I wish I could call him more often, but it's impossible. I can only use my phone and computer in my room. Plus, with all the punishments I've had, I'm exhausted at night and I also have my homework to do and my backlog to catch up on..."

"Is that camp really that bad?"

I sigh, recalling my last few weeks. The answer should be automatic, but strangely, it isn't anymore.

"It's getting better. Well, the first two weeks were awful. I kept getting punishments and arguing with my supervisor," I explain.

"Yeah, I remember. Isn't she the one you find sexy?"

I give her a stern look, glancing at Hector in front of us. She chuckles at my reaction.

"Oh, come on! He knew about us. It's not the fact that you find a woman sexy that will bother him."

"Shut up," I say, blushing.

"So this camp? It's not so terrible after all?" she returns to the main topic, to my great relief.

"Let's say to get out, I had to make an immense effort to do nothing wrong. Since then, my supervisor has become very nice to me. She even bought me a gift and contributed to my friends' present," I say, pointing to the helmet.

"Your friends, huh? And you say you're not replacing me?" she pouts.

"Oh my, I laugh, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. "You know you're still the best, Map."

"I hope so!"

"They're funny and nice, but definitely not as much as you. No one can match you," I reassure her with a cheerful smile.

"They better not! After all the mood swings I've had to endure!"

It's true she's seen a lot of ups and downs with me. I owe her everything. I pushed her away, and she came back when I needed her. Hector's voice breaks the bubble we had created around us.

"Can we go?"

"Yeah, sure," Maps quickly responds.

For the first time in a long while, I sit in the back of the vehicle to spend a bit more time with Mapi. The trip was short as the road was empty. Barcelona is really a better city. After twenty minutes, we arrived home. I remember it took us thirty minutes to get to the airport last time. I suspect Hector didn't stick to the speed limit, which is rare for him. I think he wanted to get home quickly, which I understand given the late hour. I thank him and release him from his duties once the car is in the garage. We enter quietly, without making noise. Silence reigns in the hall. Everyone must be asleep. I offer Mapi a drink, which she gladly accepts. We go to the kitchen, and I act as if I had never left. She sits on one of the high chairs at the bar while I pour us two glasses of Coke. At the same time, I hear an unusual ringtone behind me. I frown, looking at Mapi to see if she knows what it is. I quickly understand the source when I see her panicking with her phone in her hands. I guess it's an alarm she's trying to turn off. She looks up with an apologetic smile, then gets up from her chair.

"Happy birthday, my dear!"

I remain perplexed before bursting into laughter, understanding the meaning of the alarm. It was a reminder to alert her that it was midnight. I accept the hug she offers, wrapping my arms around her neck.

"You're unbelievable," I chuckle. "Thanks, Maps!"

"Always the first. Remember?"

"Of course I remember," I reply, smiling.

I don't particularly like my birthday, but Mapi has always wanted to make sure I do. Since our first year of meeting, we've established that we must be the first to wish each other a happy birthday, no matter what. So far, neither of us has broken this vow, not even when I hit rock bottom.

"Let's go to bed now, I'm exhausted."

"You? At midnight?" I laugh.

« Ana is making me adopt a new rhythm," she grumbles.

I laugh even more. I could never have imagined anyone could tame Mapi besides me. She's usually an independent girl.

"I can't wait to meet her."

"Don't get any ideas, she just tires me out in bed before sleeping."

I take back what I said. I knew it was too good to be true. Mapi can't be controlled by anyone except me. It's mutual, actually.

"I understand why you stay with her then."

"Shut up," she smiles. "She's a goddess in bed, I can't help it," she retorts.

I shake my head in amusement. I head towards the kitchen door when I see something. I stand up, spotting my little brother rubbing his eyes with his little fists.

"Ona?" he says, still half-asleep.

"Hey, sweetheart," I say, approaching him.

He seems fully awake now. He literally jumps into my arms. I crouch to his level to carry him.

"But... Sam told me you wouldn't be back!"

"I wanted to surprise you," I say with a big smile.

"It's not nice to lie!"

"You're right. We'll scold Sam tomorrow," M api intervenes.

Joan laughs, burying his face in my neck. I hold him tightly against me. I missed him so much!

"Sorry if we woke you. We were just going to come up and join you."

"Ona?"

"Yes?"

"Happy birthday!"

"Thank you, sweetie."

He is so innocent and so cute. Mapi takes care of putting our glasses in the dishwasher as Joan doesn't want to be put down. My home is her home, after all. We then go upstairs. When I open the door to my room, I discover my bed uncovered. So he really decided to take over my room, it seems. I persuade him to let go of me when I put him back to bed so I can change. Mapi takes advantage of me looking for pajamas in my dressing room to monopolize the bathroom. I'm glad I left some clothes here. I wouldn't have had the courage to open my suitcase right now. We switch roles when Maps is done. She lies down in my bed while I brush my teeth. Again, I'm glad I bought a new toothbrush for the camp. I join them once I'm done. My brother tries his best to stay awake. He immediately snuggles into my arms once I've found my ideal sleeping position.

"Good night, Batlle," Raven wishes us.

"Good night, Ona. Good night, Mapi..."

I smile, seeing him already drifting into the arms of Morpheus. I kiss him forehead and rest my chin on his head. I let out a sigh of contentment. I feel good. I'm in my bed with the people I care about most. I couldn't have dreamed of a better homecoming. It's a radical change, but very appreciable. I intend to enjoy this weekend to the fullest. I murmur a "good night" before finally closing my eyes.

[darthannie]

day nineteen: sex toys with robert fischer

pairing: Robert Fischer x f!reader word count: 808 warnings: butt plug, vibrator, a touch of oral sex (f receiving), mention of overstim a/n: Sorry it's late! Life comes at ya fast. I didn't edit this one very much. Hope you still enjoy this one though! kinktober masterlist

Robert was always a fan of giving you gifts and this time was no different. If he was trying to hide his excitement he did a very bad job doing so. When you arrived home he walked outside to greet you, opening your car door and beaconing you inside. 

He picked up a gift back and held it towards you. “Open it,” he said. You smiled, “What is it this time?”. He gestured with his head, “Open it and find out.” You took out the tissue paper and looked into the bag. There were two little boxes at the bottom. At first glance, they looked inconspicuous. Upon closer inspection, you realized it was a Bluetooth-controlled vibrator and a butt plug. 

“Robert, really?” You meant to sound amused but sounded judgy instead. He readjusted his footing, “What do you not like it?” The vibrator was bright pink and the plug had a shiny red heart as the flared base. 

“No, I like it. I wanna try them out. I just didn’t think it was your thing.” 

He shrugged, “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” 

“Well, can we see what all the fuss is about after I take a shower?” You were exhausted from work, but a little tlc from Robert wouldn’t hurt. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said, pulling you into a hug and kissing your forehead. 

Robert was reading as he waited for you to exit the en suite bathroom. He had already prepped the items and put them on the nightstand. You left the bathroom wearing only a towel. He looked up from his book and you dropped the towel. He lost all interest in what he was reading, closing the book without saving the page. He gestured for you to go to him and you crawled onto the bed. 

He leaned back as you kissed him, your body on top of his. You could tell he missed you by the way he kissed, tenderly yet needy. His hand reached down between your bodies and touched your clit, toying with you. You got wetter with every stroke. He noticed you getting turned on and thought it was the perfect time to get you prepped. He pulled away and grabbed both toys off the bedside table. “Which one first?” he raised each one, alternating between the two. You pointed at the butt plug, “That one.” 

He put the vibrator down and grabbed some lube. “Get on all fours,” he ordered. 

“Yes, sir,” you responded as you got into position. He felt his dick twitch at the title. Sir. It sat right with him. He squirted a decent amount of lube on your tight hole, the coolness making you clench. He caressed you as he slowly slid the toy inside you. You mewled at the feeling. The stretch stung in the best way possible. Your muscles relaxed when it was all the way inside. 

“Beautiful. Absolutely perfect… Are you ready for the next one?” You looked back at him and nodded, biting your lip. “On your back, sweetheart.” 

You became acutely aware of the toy inside you as you moved. You couldn’t help but moan as you lay on your back, feeling the plug move. Your knees pointed up the sky, legs open. Robert made sure the toy was connected to his phone before he put it inside you. He tested it out and you smirked as it vibrated in his hand. 

He used his fingers to prime you and then put the toy at your wet hole, slowly pushing it in. It didn’t fill you up as much as you wanted to, but that didn’t matter when Robert turned it on. He started out on a low setting. He pushed on the end of the plug and you shivered. 

He smiled and continued to prod at the toy’s gem, raising the intensity of the vibration. He continued playing around with the intensity until your legs shook. He changed it from straight vibrating to a pulse. He created different patterns and took genuine delight in all your moans and gasps. 

“Robert, I think I’m gonna cum soon. Fuck.” He took that as his cue to run his tongue over your clit as he put the vibrator on its highest setting. He threw his phone to the side and continued licking your pussy. Your hands raked through his hair as you came. You clenched around the toy, feeling sensitive. He turned off the toy, feeling that you were too overstimulated. You silently thanked him for that. 

He laid his head on your thigh and watched as you tried to pull out the pink toy. He stopped you, grabbing your wrist. “No, no. We’re not done yet. Keep it in.” You relented and tossed your head back into the pillow. It was about to be a long night. 

Taglist:

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[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

Woes of a Modern Day Love

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 21.2k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, abusive relationships, pining, male masterbation, domestic violence, unhealthy alcohol consumption, implied sexual abuse, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v

Notes: A modern!au of my main series, no knowledge of that fic is required though. Also if you thought this was going to be a fluff filled funny fic, I'm so sorry you must be new to my blog. Series Masterlist Here

Jon Snow could still recall that day as if it had just occurred. Six months had passed since then, and yet it currently felt like an utter lifetime of endless suffering. The way he knew right away as he picked up the phone that something was very wrong, how much you were trying to be quiet without crying and the swiftness in which you hung up as soon as yelling could be heard on the other end.

He had all but knocked his chair over how fast he got up before running out of the door, yelling back to Sam to tell Commander Mormont he'd apologize for leaving like this later. By his estimation as he had gotten into his car, it would take about five hours to get there if he, perhaps, didn't quite follow the speed limits. Double checking he still had something in his glove box, Jon shifted things around to prepare before leaving.

As morose of a thing it was to say, Jon had been long since preparing for it. Not a man to rub it in your face how much of a mistake he thought you had been making, but Jon did not sit idly by and wait for it all to implode leaving you stranded and alone. Jon had known this was coming since the day you had told him you were dating Karl Tanner. Not many men were known to be kicked out of the Nights Watch, but he had been one of them and Jon still could not fathom how he had convinced you to date him.

Or what he said to talk you into moving away from your friends and loved ones, to live with him five hours away.

But you were an adult, and Jon couldn't coddle you from the world. He couldn't just lock you in your room and tell you to break up with him. But he did know for a certain that when Jon had been the one originally planned to drive you there, Karl took it upon himself to pick you up instead. He knew why, giving Jon five hours alone with you was giving him five hours of time to talk you out of it.

No music played on his radio, he never bothered connecting his bluetooth, he only drove five hours in a seething silence, hand tense on the steering wheel counting down each mile remained. By the time he could see the house in the distance, you were waiting. Front door closed, you sat on the steps with your arms wrapped around your knees and a bag next to you.

The second you heard the sound of an approaching car you stood. Within the instant Jon got out of the car, he could see every sign you had been trying to hide the fact that you were previously crying but he didn't care for a second. Pulling you to him, his eyes wide and painting over with such a worry as he cupped your cheeks, “Did he hurt you?”

Jon was not convinced by the weak manner in which your tone said no. But you shook your head still barley finding the courage to grasp lightly at his waist, only a cracked whisper coming from you realizing he was still in his Nights Watch attire, that he had left the Wall to get here. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made you-”

One hand running over the hair at the side of your head, Jon rasped gently. “No, darling. None of this is your fault.” Trailing off for a moment he glanced down to the small bag you had, no bigger then a gym bag and not even full by the looks of it. “Where's the rest of your stuff?”

Avoiding his eyes, you shook your head again, “It's fine, I just want to leave.” Jon asked far firmer that time, why you didn't have your things with you when your eyes drifted nervously to the side.

Narrowing down, grey eyes tinting down to more of a black, Jons voice grew rougher. “You had a full car worth of things,” gesturing down to the bag in your hand. “This isn't even enough for overnight.” It was the way he could tell you were biting your tongue to keep quiet that made him angry all over again. Either you were too scared to go back in and get the rest of it, or Karl wasn't letting you but either way meant he was still in the house.

Saying he'll go in, you suddenly perked up. Eyes going wide and almost trying to push him, or more, the both of you away from the door. “No, Jon, it's- it doesn't matter let's just go.” Jon persisted, one hand firmly on your upper arm keeping you in place as the other stayed on your cheek, you trying one last time. “I don't care, it isn't a big deal.”

Rasping in a soothing low voice, he assured you. “It won't take long.” But it was then he realized in a manner of speaking, why you hadn't wanted to press the issue. Karl had opened the door, and leaning against the frame his voice rung out with the same condescension he always had towards him.

“Lord Snow, of course you're the one who comes to her rescue.” Jaw clenching instantly, still with the childish nickname. He was the direct assistant to his stations Lord Commander, and so the nickname had passed amongst those who didn't like him as a way to mock his position. “I told her she can get the rest of her stuff, she's the one who didn't want to come back in. Not my fault.”

You looked up at Jon, imploring him to simply listen to you and leave, but his eyes had yet to leave Karl's with a growing rage burning in his blood. “And why would she be too scared to come back in, Tanner? What did you do to her?”

You tried calling Jons name, but he merely guided you to stand behind him as he took a step towards the unmoving man at the door frame. “Who says I did anything? Why don't you ask her.” Raising a smug eyebrow towards you behind him, “Go on sweetheart, tell him what caused our little disagreement.”

Jon hadn't yet realized his voice was already raising. “I heard you screaming at her on the phone, you call that a disagreement?”

Karl only shrugged, still as smug as before. “She likes to play rough, don't you?” Looking back to you once more Jon somewhat shoved you behind him far more down the grass. Muttering for you to wait in the car, and the second you tried to convince him to leave, Karl kept making it all the worse. “See, she doesn't listen to me, doesn't listen to you. Got ourselves a trouble maker, we do.”

Jon spoke over whatever you tried to say. “How about you stop talking, let me get her stuff and leave so you can tell Rast and Locke all about how you scared me into running away, and we can move on with our lives.”

“Of course.” Turning suspiciously to the side as if to give him space to walk in, but Jon didn't move yet when Karl couldn't help himself. “Take your time, I'll stay out here with our girl and make sure she doesn't wind up getting into even more trouble. Or, maybe you'd prefer her more then a little broken in?”

The second Jon moved, you had swiftly put yourself in front of him. Pushing him back, barley making any difference as he looked up, and you desperately tried to get him to look at you. “Jon, please, I just want to go.” Glancing down, his eyes softened almost instantly. “Please.” Swallowing roughly, he nodded.

Without another word, he had grabbed your arm to turn you around and once more push you ahead of him. Ensuring you were in the car first as he watched with a deathly glare at Karl the whole time. But not before one last thing came out of his mouth, now that you were in the car and Karl was sure only Jon would hear him. “If I were you Lord Snow, I'd ask her what it was she said while I was fucking her this morning that started the argument. I'm sure you'd find the answer rather interesting.”

Jon said nothing of it, slamming the car door before leaving without another word. And it took well over five silent minutes after that for you to find your voice to try and apologize. With not a shred of the harshness anymore, Jon dismissed your every attempt. Instead shifting the conversation to ask you what you brought.

“Toothbrush, toothpaste, my phone, journal, and a few clothes.” Jon asked calmly about your laptop and a glance to the side he caught you shaking your head. If he were to guess, Karl had likely already called Rast and Locke. They'd trash most of your things and sell what was left. You had sat outside already knowing you'd never get your stuff back.

Without skipping a beat, Jon simply told you “We'll go out tomorrow and I'll buy you a new one.” Protesting with a call of his name, Jon shut it down. “No arguing. I'll move things around when we get to the apartment. You can stay in my office, so the computer in there's yours but you need things of your own. We'll get whatever else you need too, clothes, furniture,” Still you protested weakly, but there wasn't any shortness in his tone. Only a gentleness mixed in with nothing but deep affection. “I have the money, you don't. You don't have to stay with us if you don't want too, but I'm still going to make sure you're alright.”

Now though, Jon could remember glancing back to you. The brightness in your eyes that he suspected you hadn't had in months as intense as you nodded a single yes to him. He never asked what it was Karl meant, it wasn't his place and you were upset, so he forgot about it.

You stayed in the apartment, no one was rushing to see you go. Jons brother Robb had known you as long as Jon, and in your own words, was just as frustratingly insistent at getting you back on your feet. The other in the apartment, a very old friend of the three of you, Theon had clearly enjoyed having you around again as well. The pair of you found your previous friendship picking up easily, acting closer to a brother and sister, meaning you contrasted well against Jon and Robb making the apartment always amusing to live in.

He knew you had trouble getting used to it, the way Northerners did things. In the South it was very much, move out, live on your own, form a new life away from family. But it was different here, it would be weird for people not to live together as such. It wasn't uncommon for when a couple marries, to move back to the family home when having their first child, so that they and the baby could be surrounded with a sense of family.

The Starks didn't have much in the way of outside family anymore, not since before Jon and Robb were even born, but it meant it only would be even weirder for them all to live apart. No one was pressuring you to find a place of your own. No one really wanted you too. And just as you were finally beginning to settle again, finding life and routine, did he come around.

Jon had blamed himself for you getting involved with Karl Tanner, you only even met him because he was pledged to Jons own station. But this time, he seemed to appear in your life out of nowhere. They all tolerated him, seeing passed his facade and not knowing how to explain it to you without sounding like they were attacking your new boyfriend. But they didn't like him, and he knew that. He knew especially, that Jon hated him. And he loved it. He loved how much Jon utterly despised him. Robb and Theon were civil, but Jon would barley speak two words to him knowing he would talk endlessly at Jon in return just to frustrate him.

He had spotted your vulnerability and used it to his advantage to slide in, and he had spotted thusly in Jon, how much he was desperately in love with you. The day he put that together, was the day Ramsay Bolton had made it his life's goal to torment Jon every single moment he could manage.

Jons office was right next to his room, which now meant you lived right next to him. He knew the layout, you shared a wall where your beds were. Now though, it felt as if when he was home he lived on the other side of his room. Distracting himself with work or really anything which came to mind in order to tune it out. Or worse, but he hadn't really been ready to even admit that to himself yet.

It wasn't right now, it was the middle of the day but that didn't change the fact that if Jon worked in complete silence, he'd be able to hear you talking. Which would inevitably lead to Jon eavesdropping, and he was trying desperately to not do that. Anymore. He couldn't stand it after months, when just talking turned to something else.

At first he tried listening to something. Shove on his headphones and tune it out, but that did not change he still knew what was happening. Jon still knew that Ramsay was doing it on purpose.

Spending the better part of the afternoon transcribing, Jon had gotten into the habit of recording his meetings with the free folk, so he could write them out and give Lord Commander Mormont a direct report of what happened, but he so rarely had time to sit at a computer and just listen and type when stationed in, that he tended to take it home. Doing it in the quiet was easier anyways, and it now gave him an excuse to hide away when Ramsay was over.

He couldn't stand there watching him dangle you in front of him, if Jon was busy working in his room.

By the time he emerged, Ramsay was nowhere to be found. Wandering into the kitchen, noticing that he had hidden away long enough that dinner had been made and cleaned up. Robb looked up to his brother, noting the eternal frown on his face and tense posture, he nodded to the fridge. “She left you a plate. Knew you were working, she didn't want to bother you.”

Opening it up, indeed whatever had been made you set Jon aside his own. Exhaling through his nose, Jons eyes shut not noting his hand gripping the handle of the door tightly, nor the slightly more rough shove he gave to close it. Asking low, Jon was grateful Robb was used to Jon when he was like this. “When'd they leave?”

Neither had to specify who. Robb knew Jon and Ramsay hated each other, and that Jon only endured it for your sake. It was why he and Theon endured it too, if Jon could set aside his short temper and overwhelming protectiveness for you, then the least they could do was match that. None of the guys wanted to upset you.

Robb returned back to whatever he had been writing out, “Hours ago. Said something came up at home, she's just in the other room with Theon for the night.”

A frown coming across his face further, Jon turned to him. “Wasn't he supposed to take her out somewhere tonight?” Robb nodded and looked no more impressed. It was a science exhibit that all three of them had poked fun at you, by calling it nerdy. But Ramsay had offered to take you, and judging by your jacket and boots still sitting by the main hall, had indeed, backed down on it.

Jon glanced up to spot the time, keeping the grumble to himself that it was way too late for him to take you, it'd be nearly over by the time he got you there. Besides, he knew you would be bashful. Saying not to go out of his way and you were perfectly content staying in, despite Jon knowing how much you were looking forward too it.

Robb read his mind. “What's that now? Four times this month he's cancelled on her plans?” Jon corrected him on five, recollecting the time you went out of your way to reschedule a dinner reservation at a nice place in Torrhens Square. Ramsay had called you quite literally at the same instance Jon was braiding your hair for you as you tried to put a little extra effort into your makeup, saying he couldn't make it.

Your shoulders had deflated under Jons touch, clearing your throat as you hung up and very awkwardly apologized for making him help you for nothing. Jon had tried to insist otherwise but you shut down, trying to laugh it off rather unconvincingly before leaving to your room and not coming out the rest of the night.

He hadn't told anyone, nor you, that he spotted the dress you bought specifically for that date buried the next day at the bottom of what you called your donate pile. Jon had been there when you bought it too. You had kept looking at it on the rack, this long sleeved dress in whites and ivory and lace trailing down the forearms as it draped along the floor like a gown. The restaurant was fancy and it would be perfect, but you were busying yourself with a thin strapped red dress. Short to the point it on you would hardly cover even part of your thighs, and a neck which would show plenty cleavage despite you not even owning anything showing off like that.

Jon had asked if you were sure of it, and you tried to play it off. Saying it was the sort of thing Ramsay suggested would look good for you to try, but as you were asking the assistant if it came in your size Jon had gently murmured he would be right back. A hand trailing along your back and hip as he passed you by.

Finding your size easy, Jon had brought it over to you before the woman even came back. Telling you to try it on in the meantime. Not mentioning he knew you had been looking at it the entire time, only prompting you into the dressing room with it. Thanking the clerk when she came back but you had reconsidered something else. The woman, a bit older had smiled a little bit, nodding to the curtain hiding where you were. “She's lucky to have a man like you at her side, most boyfriends already have gold and silvers out waiting to buy numbers like that.”

Jon never even considered to correct her that he wasn't your boyfriend.

You had asked him gently to come in, not wanting to make a scene of such a dress on you out in the open if you weren't sure. Not that you had known, but however turned on men would've been by you and your plush skin and soft curves in that tiny red dress, was nothing compared to how hard Jon felt looking at you in such an innocent, long and modest white dress. He didn't insist on buying it, fearing it would look as if Jon was just trying to manipulate you into getting what he wanted. He did want to see you in it, but because you had clearly wanted it so much.

And then a month later, the day after Ramsay cancelled the reservation the second time, it just sat at the bottom of a box. Nicely folded and clean to be donated because the return date had expired, and you no longer had a use for such a fancy dress.

It looked rather odd sitting in Jons closet, a long, white dress amongst far, far too much black mens clothing, but he didn't want you to give up on it yet. You never owned such fanciful things, it wasn't the way you were raised, to value luxury. But Jon knew if the right opportunity came up, if Ramsay bothered to put even a modicum of effort into doing something nice for you, then Jon would show you he kept it for you, so you could have one night in the dress you were so excited to buy.

Jon was so utterly lost in his thoughts, he missed half of everything Robb had said to him. Not even bothering to sit at the table with him, Jon just stood with his back and shoulders tense as anything as he ate at the counter. Only tuning into what Robb was saying as he called to him louder. “Snow.” Jon turning abruptly to look, Robb just gave him a flat expression. “You hear a word I said?”

At least Jon was blunt about it. “No.”

Robb only smirked, used to it at that point. “Father wants you there too, said he'll bloody pay your Lord Commander to give you the night if he has too.” Jon only asked in confusion what Robb was talking about and he shook his head. “You getting knocked in the head out there by the Wall? Starting to loose brain cells already.” Jon took the jest with a grain of salt when coming from Robb. “The Harvest Gala, all of Winter Town's coming into Winterfell, and all the older families are going to be there. Father told me to tell you, you don't have a choice. You're coming, and he's dragging Uncle Benjen down too.”

Moving to wash his plate, Jon only asked “Why did he ask you and not call me?”

“Fathers known you your whole life, if he asked directly you'd make an excuse.” Asking if anyone else was going, Robb dissected the root of Jons curiosity. “Roose Boltons coming, which means Ramsay will be going if that's what your asking.”

Jon only left the room muttering under his breath, leaving behind the sound of his brother laughing both at his expense and as a cope for how little Robb too, was looking forward to the later. “Great. A whole night with you highborns and watching Ramsay shoving his tongue down her throat.”

Oh Jon hated how much effort he put into willing his cock not to get hard now of all times. Not an usual sight, Theon sitting on a chair in the main room working his way through a game, and you spread out gently on the couch across the television watching. Only, you were utterly ruining Jon. He had been wondering where one of his Nights Watch shirts had gone and there you lay wearing it like it was normal you would wear Jons clothes. Sometimes the guys things would mix with your laundry, but normally you gave them their things back right away. Yet you laid out in his shirt, clearly oversized on you. He dared not think that it was large enough and the material thick enough, you could completely hide were you not wearing a bra.

Before he could embarrass himself further, Jon closed his eyes to let an exhale out and get himself together.

He said nothing of it as he approached, only gesturing to your legs as you looked up at his approaching figure. Pulling them more towards your chest, Jon very casually and without thought, grabbed them once more to return you to your previous position just now with your thighs resting in his lap. Your voice was quiet enough for Jon to pick up on without completely disrupting Theon. “Did you see the plate I left you?” Nodding, you sighed out in a relief. “I tried to message you while I was still cooking, but you didn't answer so I figured you were busy. I would've come and gotten you otherwise.”

Narrowing his brows, Jon pulled his phone out and it had been some hours since he checked it clearly. Sam and Grenn both with messages in the group chat, a few from Tormund separately, emails no doubt from Cotter Pyke down at Eastwatch by the Sea bothering him for some thing or another, and of course a single message from you, sweetly asking if he was going to miss dinner and if not you would keep enough for him to sit aside.

Glancing back down at you with a low rasp, “I'm sorry, I haven't even looked at it in hours.” Jon could feel the restraint not to call you by the term he used for you alone. He had always called you darling, he had since he was ten. But it felt unfair to keep calling you that when you were with Ramsay, and Jon also knew if he kept too comfortable it would one day slip out in front of the man himself, and Jon would not have gotten to live it down.

Shaking your head, you flipped more on your back, head turned to see the screen but more easily face Jon when you needed too. “It's alright. I only didn't want you to think I didn't make anything for you.”

Jon would've said you didn't need to make him anything in general, but you both have had that discussion too many times to count. It was fruitless task. Robb and Theon had more normal schedules so sharing who cooked when between you three was easy, but Jons schedule was never consistent day to day. Jon typically came home having not eaten most of the day and so you liked to cook for him. If he worked into the night, you always would check in when he was coming home and if it was in time, you liked to be the one to make dinner.

Since on those nights, you always tried to make sure things were done by the time Jon walked into the apartment, and almost always, at least one part of the meal would be something you knew he specifically liked more then the others. He had long since given up trying to tell you that you shouldn't feel obligated to do that, but you would then have that narrowed expression as if confused why he thinks you feel obligated.

It was quiet between you both when he breached the topic, feeling you stiffen up right away. “Next time something comes up, you should tell me. I would've taken you to the exhibit.”

But you only shook your head, “It's fine. It isn't your responsibility to drive me around like that. You have more important things to do.” No words were appropriate which came to mind, as Jon felt deep within the confines of his heart, that you were what was most important to him.

So he only muttered back, “Just tell me next time. I don't want you missing out on things.”

Your brows narrowed, something hesitant and not understanding flashed in your eyes as you glanced between Jon and the screen. It was risky going further you knew, but your brain did not understand his meaning. “I'm not missing out on things, Jon. Ramsay and I can go on another date any other time.”

Both of you were too stubborn to let it drop. “Dates are one thing, it's another to cancel everytime you have something you're looking forward too.” Jon could tell something about what he had said bothered you. Your jaw clenching a bit as you no doubt bit down on your tongue. Shifting to look back to the screen and no longer keeping Jon in sight.

Were you more childish, you'd have something clever to retort with, but you didn't. Because Jon was right. You simply did not like to think about how often that statement was turning out to be right. You could go to an exhibit anytime. Well, not that one. Only was there for the night and then the event was leaving the North, and it was the only one you truly wanted to go see, but it was fine. There were other things you and Ramsay did other then stupid events you wanted to go to like a child.

You however did not like that when trying to come up with other things Ramsay liked to do with you, the only conclusion that kept coming to you, was how often Ramsay turned down doing anything or going anywhere with you, in favour of just having sex. Then leaving. Much like what Karl was like, fuck and then fucked off elsewhere for the night.

No, you certainly did not want to think about that, because then you'd have to acknowledge the warmth behind your face in an unpleasant manner, and the sting in your eyes. Or how just laying here with your legs draped over Jons lap, his hand respectful as it was caressing, his thumb trailed along where one hand rested on your thigh, was the most intimate feeling you'd gotten from a man in well over a year. You felt dumb wanting to cry at such thoughts. You were an adult, adults in relationships have sex, what was your problem. Telling yourself, you should be grateful Ramsay was even kind enough to fuck you in the first place.

After all, that's exactly what Ramsay would tell you to your face, wasn't it?

It wasn't as if it were obnoxiously loud. On the other side of the back stretch of the apartment were Robbs room, then Theons. It left yours and Jons just on their own at the left end. It was never loud enough it reached their rooms or even the living room. No, it was something so purposeful. It was just loud enough, that only Jon could hear, and he knew Ramsay did it on purpose.

Prompting you specifically to be louder, trying to prompt you to talk more, boast about what he was doing to you more, and mocking you about being shy. All the while, Jon would sit at his desk, gripping his pen so tightly it threatened to snap, because Ramsay would always ensure your headboard banged against Jons wall. The absolute obscene things Jons heard Ramsay say to you by this point, and he could confirm to the no one who asked, that Ramsay wasn't just mean during sex, he bordered on sadistic and cruel.

Jon hated that he knew you were naturally quieter in bed, because of how often Ramsay would make you go louder and louder, and the more perverted things he'd force you to say that sounded unnatural coming from your beautiful, sweet, high pitched voice. It was an unspoken thing only between Jon and Ramsay that this went on. Jon gave zero indication to you he could hear anything, and he knew Robb and Theon heard nothing.

It was something Ramsay did just to make him miserable.

At first he had a routine. It would start, then Jon no matter the time of night, would quietly prompt his direwolf Ghost to go for a night hike in the woods just outside the Stark properties his family all lived on. Sometimes if he was awake, Jon too would beckon Robb's direwolf Grey Wind to join. Ramsay never stayed until morning, and so Jon would wait until he saw his car leave and only then would he make his way down the path from the cliff side and try to sleep. Only one time did Ramsay stay, and he was smart enough at least not to cause a scene that would wake everyone else up.

Jon had just rolled in, a thirty two hour stretch at the Wall and he only had gotten home. Making something simple to eat before a very quick shower, and finally planning on going into his room and passing out, Jon stood in the kitchen in time to hear quiet creeping footsteps. Coming out to the hall, Jon came face to face with Ramsay and it was the only time he'd seen Ramsay hesitate.

Jon still dressed in the black leathers uniformed along the Nights Watch with eyes so seething and black they matched what he wore, Ramsay had finally found one instance where he knew Jon would have the upper hand. It was easy for men like him, highborns who never worked for anything in his life, to mock the Nights Watch right up until he stood before Jon in his dark, imposing uniform. Remembering that as much as the North called them peacekeepers, almost every brother of the Nights Watch was somewhat trained for combat, and Jon was the primary teacher for his station after all.

Jon remembered feeling that Ramsay was lucky. The more skilled men at his station would carry weapons. Partially a left over from when the Nights Watch was entangled in active conflicts with the free folk, and now partially serving as a reminder that the Nights Watch was not governed within the same confines of law. Jon used to bring it home with him, the sword strapped to his side called Longclaw, but he stopped bringing it home when you moved in. Not wanting you to feel uncomfortable with it. He was also lucky Jon remembered thinking, that the shorter dagger Jon kept for safety purposes, still sat in the glove box of his car.

Or maybe, Jon was unlucky he didn't have those with him. Maybe Ramsay wouldn't have come back.

Ramsay only rose an eyebrow at him in knowing before leaving. Jon hadn't blinked nor spoken a word as he watched him leave. Going into the bathroom you two shared, all Jon planned was to forget about it. Wash the grime from his body and rinse out the sweat in his long curls from keeping it up so many hours, but he couldn't stop thinking of it. Of how Ramsay had only been here to sneak off, because he had fallen asleep after fucking you.

The thought was made far worse when Jon realized in his absence, you had restocked everything for him so he wouldn't have to rush out to the store when finally coming home. He couldn't stand it, how domestic you treated Jon while knowing Ramsay got the rest of what came with that.

People mistakened Jon for your boyfriend nearly everytime you two went out alone somewhere. It always happened, and eventually you stopped correcting people on it, not thinking the truth worth explaining to people you barley knew. Someone called you Jons wife once, and he nearly blacked out at the thought. But for all you two treated each other as, Jon sat in his room that night with his jaw clenched so hard he wondered if it would break.

Headphones on, Jon was trying to find anything to distract himself. Abandoning his report open, and leaned much more relaxed back in his chair, connecting his headphones to his phone now, he tried not to consider why he did it. He was a man, men didn't need a reason so why did he? Why was Jon trying not to listen to what he could hear of you specifically as he opened up his browser. If it was nothing in particular working him up, why did Jon double check looking to his door to ensure it was locked?

It was only a coincidence that the search terms he looked for, were physical traits that just so happened to describe you. It had nothing to do with anything. And it was not at all, anything but lack of interest that had him close his browser after searching through nearly fifty pages. Because if Jon let himself think about the truth, then he'd have to admit that he had spent the past half an hour searching through a porn site looking for a girl who looked like you. And when he found no one who came close, Jon would have to admit that he exited the site, and very intentionally opened a message thread between he and you.

It didn't take long to find, many times you instead of typing longer messages, would send him voice notes. Knowing if Jon was at his desk at his station, he could just plug an earbud in to listen instead of stopping to read. The conversation he had found, was nothing even close to erotic. You were simply talking about something that funny you found even working from home now, did you still find ways to be annoyed each time your co workers reached out to you.

You were just too natural. Light and airy in tone, high pitched as you were much more quick in tone and not so formal for once. You were the most you in your voice notes in contrast to your typed messages, and yet despite there not being a single thing about the words you were saying being seductive, Jon felt his cock stir, unfairly hard he was and just as he was going to talk himself out of this idea, Ramsay had clearly prompted you to go again.

The second Jon heard your unsure voice on the other side of his wall, his free hand was already undoing his belt.

He loved your voice so much, the way you sounded so sweet when it was only the two of you. How from sure of yourself, how put together and stern you were all melted away into a gentle but kind shyness when with Jon. So few people ever heard you laugh, but Jon had so many voice notes of you laughing or giggling to yourself with whatever you were saying.

Jon could tune out what was on the other side of the wall, as long as he had your voice in his ear in whatever pathetic capacity he was allowed to have. He was also not in a rush, his hand slow as he moved his fist up and down his length, enjoying the building pleasure running through him at the sound of your voice. His hold a bit tighter when you would say his name. One hand kept scrolling, as soon as one series of voice notes as done, he searched for more.

Each new one, Jon stroked his cock a little faster, hand holding a little tighter. Breathing heavy, jaw clenched, Jon contained a grunt in his chest at the way you would say his name. Seven hells did Jon love the way his name sounded on your lips. Tighter more he gripped himself, running his hand up and down faster again.

It was why he kept headphones always charged. He couldn't dare have this interrupted now, and he couldn't listen to it out loud. Jon needed to cum to your voice, but he needed it to be for him and not for Ramsay. The desire ran through him, overwhelming Jons head. It was like an addiction, some men took shade of the evening to get themselves through life out of their minds. But Jons addiction was you, it always had been.

Truth be told, he hadn't even noticed a groan left him. Head falling back, his cock throbbed in his hand at the sound of your giggle. He was a doomed man, he replayed the sound again and again. Then another voice note, then the next and the next. Until he came along one you were not just giggling, but affectionately saying his name as well.

His insides burned, his hand running up and down his cock rough, fast, needing and desperate to cum with each stroke, which each sound of his name from your voice. How long had he been going, he wasn't even sure. All Jon knew was that his mind was consumed with thoughts of you so much his cock begged for you.

Hissing through gritted teeth, “Oh fuck-” Jon prayed to the old gods he had not said your name. He was lucky they answered, but he had come so dangerously close to groaning your name as he came, that he felt himself almost forming the first letters it. Cumming into his hand, Jon kept stroking until he had nothing left. And it seemed, Ramsay didn't either. It was dead silent next door.

Not sparing time, Jon tucked himself back in, tossing his phone and headphones onto his desk, before opening the door to his hall. Ramsay always left your door partially open, and as he peeked in, you were under your covers still bare, turned away from the door looking rather alone. Likely your sleeping self was wondering why your lover was not next to you to comfort you in your sleep. Jon closing it silently, and noting properly Ramsay was nowhere to be found.

His phone told him that it was two am. Jon knew he wouldn't get any sleep before needing to leave for the Wall. Ensuring the apartment was empty and sleeping, Jon didn't go to bed. No, sitting back at his desk, that time Jon spared no time in once more pulling his already throbbing cock out. Jon spared not a second in pretending he wasn't getting off thinking about you, wishing he would ever know what being inside you would be like.

What made things more complicated, was a message informing Jon he needn't come in that day, and thus he sat at the table that morning with Robb and Theon plagued with two thoughts. He had always tried to deny it, but this was the first time Jon had been so brazen with himself that he would stroke his cock thinking explicitly of you. Hoping that it wasn't about to change the way he acted with you, only he didn't get the chance to know right away.

You had been very late getting out of bed. Which was unusual, you were very disciplined about not sleeping so late. Your alarm goes off and your feet were out of bed within seconds. But it had reached the point you would have been up and getting settled into whatever project you had going on for the day, when you only had just emerged the first time.

They only heard it from the sounds of your door opening and closing, but it was Theons quick muttering in an angry confusion of, “What the fuck?” Did it have Jon and Robb look up.

You had been awake the whole time, you were however, hiding. For a good reason. As quick as both Robb and Theon were to stand up and call your name, Jon was already down the hall with a bit of a short tempered shout of your name as you ignored him. Grabbing your coat you didn't even wait to put it on before walking out the door.

Stepping out to the porch, Jon watched you swiftly rush to a car waiting for you. Recognizing inside the driver as Loras Tyrell, and in the backseat where you joined was his sister Margaery. You had shut the door without ever acknowledging him and clearly had told Loras to just go, taking off before Jon had a single answer from you.

You had left the house in a hurry, avoiding the guys all, because when they last saw you, it was with Ramsay who was clearly taking you to bed to fuck. But the next time they saw you as you rushed out the door, the guys had recognized the very distinct look of a bloody cut across your lip and a bruised eye.

It had been a longstanding joke within the Stark household that whomever built the family home, must have purposely Stark proofed everything in advance, protecting the house from the wolves tempers. Ned Stark was currently trying to quell his sons anger, Theon was sitting more firmly at the table trying to convince you to answer your phone. Robb was perched with his palms against the table on the other side seething with anger, while Jon leaned against the wall arms crossing his chest and truly looking nowhere but with his eyes so grey they appeared as black as they were angry and intense.

They had only just stopped slamming things about as Catelyn sent them into the dining room before they broke a plate with all their ruckus. Ned still was trying to be the calm voice of reason for the three of them despite his own feelings on the matter. He did not know the boy, Ramsay, but he knew his father Roose Bolton all too well. And that told him enough.

Emerging from where she had headed upstairs, Sansa returned looking at her phone confirming what their father had asked her to find out. “Margaery says she is with her and Loras, but she doesn't want to talk about what happened.”

Robb shook his head with a clench of his jaw, “We let him stay in our home, and he expects us to stand by as he beats-”

Ned cut him off, “Now we don't know he did that to her.”

Robb interrupting as soon as his father stopped talking, “She goes to bed with him fine, and she comes out the next morning alone with a black eye and cut lip? So, she what? Busted her face up all on her own by accident?”

Running his hand over his mouth, Ned sat down before both elbows propped up on the table to clasp together in thought. “I'm not saying that. I am saying that we should think before you three all go back out there and hunt the boy down.”

Nothing but a low rasp was Jons voice coming out in a restrained anger. “We don't need to hunt him down, we know where the Dreadfort is.” Ned gave a slight tilt of his head towards Jon, but he only clenched his jaw and turned to look back out the front window as if you'd appear in the driveway.

Trying to speculate why you would want to hide it, and Sansa looked up from her phone to say with a passing casualness. “It's obvious.” Raising an eyebrow at Jon with a look almost stern like a lecture, “She didn't want to deal with your reaction, if she's upset and you come lashing out of course she'd want time away.”

Jon pushed off the wall, face twisting into an anger as he raised his voice slightly. “Ramsay beat her and you're blaming me?”

Sansa only shrugged, a look almost smug like she had her point proven. “Maybe if you could control your temper.”

Once more Ned had to speak up interrupting what would inevitably turn into an argument should he let the two of them keep going. “Sansa, try and get Margaery to find out when she plans on coming home without making her feel pressured to come back now.” Robb tried arguing why shouldn't you come home now, and Ned once more shut it down. “She's upset, and so are all of you. It will not help anyone, give her space and she'll come back. In the meantime, don't do anything rash about Ramsay. Only until the gala is over, I'd rather not have the Boltons pull their support before we direct their funding.”

He knew it was a bit of a bias, not being anywhere close to the traditional Stark family business, Jon piped up with a dismissive mutter under his breath. “Of course, wouldn't want to scare them away after they've scared her all the way to Highgarden.”

“Jon.” Looking away in a bit of shame at the sternness in his fathers voice, Jon knew it was far more complicated then that but the agitation of not being allowed to do anything was getting to him. He just wanted to know what the hell happened.

You could tell she was surprised that you hadn't flinched once. The small swab of alcohol running along your lip and only your hands clenched slightly before relaxing again as she cleaned it. Voice soft but something attempting to be convincing against a difficult target, “Are you sure you don't want to tell us what he did?”

Inhaling slightly, you straightened your posture slightly as Margaery took that as her answer. Sighing of her own as her shoulders deflated, she glanced somewhat behind her, looking at Loras to implore him to help. But he only gestured towards you with an outstretched hand. “If she won't tell you what happened, what could I do differently?”

You had long gotten used to the manner in which the two siblings could joke about you as if you weren't in the room. “She's too used to my feminine wiles, maybe she needs a mans touch.”

Though, it slipped out before you had the sense to stop it. “If he closes his eyes and pretends I have grown a few more inches, maybe.” The glare was not meaning what so ever, not towards you. Despite the family you came from, it was still your Uncle Renly which Loras was seeing. He had long stopped wondering if such comments from you were serious. Attempting to change the subject, you tried dismissal as the first tactic with it. “It was only an accident.”

Tilting her head, she looked at you as if you were stupid. “If it were an accident, you wouldn't have messaged me first thing in the morning to come get you. Not caring about something is not the same as avoiding it all together.”

Truly, you did not wish to come here for a lecture. If you wanted that, you'd have stayed in the apartment. Margaerys eyes peeling away from you for a moment, taking little time to tap out a response to something as part of you wondered how she could possibly use the screen with nails that long. Turning back, you glanced at it with a knowing question.

“It's nothing.” Your expression fell flat as Loras's behind her grew into a smirk. Changing her tone to much more casual explaining, “Sansa was asking me if you're alright. Don't worry I told her you don't want to talk about what happened, just that you're staying with us for a little while.”

If anything had you close your eyes in defeat. That meant it had already spread as far as the main Stark house, by nightfall all of them would know. Loras at least had done the smart thing early, leaning his hand to the back seat telling you to give your phone over. Saying, “You can't be tempted to look at it if you don't have it on you.”

Had he not promptly turned it off, you'd no doubt be seeing it light up every few minutes with one of them either messaging you or calling you. By the time Arya finds out, no doubt eighty percent of such notifications would be from her. They could last without you for a few days. The Winterfell Harvest Gala was only three days away, by then hopefully things would have cooled down.

If not, then Margaery had at the least, assured you that your eye would be healed enough by then she could cover most of the bruise with makeup. For now though, you knew over the hours from when it happened, your eye had begun looking far worse as the bruising colours finally set in. You hadn't even known it was hard enough of an impact to leave a bruise until you woke up. Instantly, you had messaged Margaery asking if she and Loras could come get you.

Correctly assuming the second the guys saw it, they would get angry and that was exactly what happened. You thought you had a better chance of not being seen, thinking if it were only Robb and Theon, then maybe you could sneak from the door when they were near their rooms getting ready to leave, but then you realized Jon was still home for whatever reason.

That was when you added an additional message saying to just reply here when they arrived, and you'd come out to them, not wanting more of a scene to be made. The second you realized Theon saw you, you snatched your coat and walked out the front door. Of course Jon was the most angry, he and Ramsay hated each other. But you didn't want to deal with that after what happened.

You had been in their kitchen, assisting their ever immaculate and tart tongued grandmother Olenna with the baking. Whomever the highest of family names attending the Harvest Gala were, it was a tradition that the Starks provided the main feast and the subsequent families would provide a dessert unique to their region.

The whole kitchen smelled of a mixture of baking apples and fresh lemons, it was peaceful. For as quick on the draw as Olenna Tyrell was, she knew when to get down to business and your quietness only meant that you were a diligent worker to make up for the lack of conversation. Which she was fine, with, as long as she could pull a small smile from you now and again she could affirm you hadn't been knocked around that badly.

Oh she took it seriously, but she also did not coddle you. Which was what you wanted. “It won't make you feel better, but it will distract you long enough you may finally rid yourself of that sulking expression.”

You almost went to protest you made such a look, but her eyes shined in an amusement for you to prove her point. Huffing out what may have been a hint of a smile, you returned to the tasks she had delegated you towards. “So why is it your grandchildren get out of doing any of this?”

Olenna never failed to be as blunt as she was quick. “Those two out there are talented at many things, but baking certainly is not one of them. At least you know how to make something look attractive more then just the reflection in the mirror.” All said with a love you knew she held, the Tyrells never ones to withhold a jest at the others expense.

Decorating the very top of the small surface you had to work with, you heard the front door open as you did her voice accompanied by Maragery. You knew she was coming, and if you had any stroke of luck it was that there was one person in that family who wasn't going to hound you about it, it was Sansa.

You could tell her eyes sought you out the moment she walked into the kitchen, trying to keep whatever reaction to your not yet healed eye to herself. Though, it was easy as you without much thought on any other matters, grabbed one of the smaller pieces and turned towards her. “Perfect, I need you to tell me if it's missing something.”

Grabbing the small lemon cake from you, her face twisted from a purposeful look of thought to an easy enjoyment and a hum of satisfaction. Barley managing to her herself swallow the pastry, boasting with genuity. “That's delicious, do you make these often?”

Shaking your head, you turned back to carefully pipe the tops of the full sized ones into each matching design. “Not really. Usually my family brings something seafood in origin, so sweet isn't my normal handling.”

Normally she would have been over here for Margaery, but as she sat down at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen, you suspected she came with not so hidden intentions. “Everyone was worried about you yesterday morning.”

Saving grace, Olenna spoke up from her own work on the mixture going around the apple fillings. “Yes, yes, one muddied up face and the Starks send themselves into a pack formation.” Trying to protest, Sansa was as used to the woman as you were by now. “We needn't beat around the bush, my dear. Her brute of a boyfriend knocks her around, and every wolf within a thousand mile radius gets sent on a hunting spree. If they had reason to be worried, she wouldn't be here suggesting to bake lemon cakes simply because she knew you loved them and were coming over.”

Head raising just the slightest, you'd have rather wished that she didn't rat you out so quickly, but you only tilted your head in no denial when Sansa looked at you brightly. “Don't tell the others, I have a badly tarnished image to maintain.”

Margaery walked into the room, her light voice floating about as did she move with her usual, yet annoying level of grace. “Only your hypothetical image. I'll have that face prettied up for the Gala like none could guess.” Her own hands toying with the bright orange hair loose down Sansas back, did she also lean in to mock whisper. “Aren't I so good at hiding when someone marks up a girls pretty skin?”

A fluster came about Sansa pulling away as you and Margaery both laughed at her reaction. Sharing a look with the later, before raising your eyebrows to the former. “You're lucky I'm good at keeping secrets.”

Looking between all of those in the room she tried to deny it once more, “It isn't like that-”

“So you didn't change your foundation to a new brand, because it was easier at hiding when this one,” Pointing the now empty piping nozzle towards Margaery, “Gets a little bit too carried away in her spare time?” Both girls pretend to be annoyed with one another, but there was little weight behind it.

Margaery was likely the only person who Sansa couldn't stay mad or annoyed at. Almost drifting your mind away, considering the simple fact that you however, were the one who got everyone angry with you. A talent of yours.

You didn't want to think about it, it was a completely different situation then that.

Nothing in common, you felt so much more at your wits end here, the opposite of relaxed as Margaery and Sansa fussed about you. Their touch felt yanking at trying to decide how to this time dress up their new doll, when all you could recall was the last time anyone did something like this for you was before you threw that beautiful dress into the box to donate when Ramsay cancelled your reservation a second time.

You were focused on trying to paint up your eyes, while Jon stood behind you. You had asked if he would help put your hair in a braid, just a simple one until you could decide what you wanted to do, when he took over. Warm against your back, Jon begun carefully and expertly moving the strands around into a braid far more fancy then you could have ever accomplished yourself. Rasping low that braids suited you, whereas here both girls were arguing you should keep it down.

“Make him feel guilty. Show off a little.” You wanted to toss away the dress they handed you, but Margaery grabbed you and walked you to step behind her privacy screen to try it on. “You want Ramsay to realize what he may be missing out on if he keeps acting like this.”

Not being able to see her, you picked up the doubt in Sansas tone as she perched herself on the edge of Margaerys bed. “Are you sure that's the right approach? It may look like she's trying to impress other men.”

The dress itself was fine, but it showed off so much in terms of your back, arms, waist, too much. “That's exactly what we want. He needs to chase her a little, show why he's better then other men, give her a reason to stay other then familiarity.” Suddenly turning with a small shout, “Are you done yet?”

Sighing out, you shook your head without caring they could not see. “Do you have something a little less..revealing?” Sansa laughed, reminding you whose closet you were borrowing from. A deep sigh came out, “Try.”

The next two were also a no. “The Gala is tomorrow, you can't say no to everything.”

Cutting back quickly, “I can if I don't go.”

Sansa spoke before Margaery could once again. “If you don't go, you know my brothers will come and drag you home themselves.” Clearly the two shared a look as she explained quieter, “Shocked they haven't already.”

Oh you were even less sure about this one. The both of them dragging you out to stand before the full mirror in the room, one at each side somewhat behind you the doubt was radiating from your face. “You don't think it's too-” Shutting you down, Margaery only grasped at your hair once more, fiddling with it as she thought through what she wanted to do to match.

Still, her feeling and touch was nowhere near as comforting as Jons.

It was the same every year, but this year it bothered him more. The fact that you would sit up with those of the Baratheon family, occupied around by those who lived around Kings Landing. You had arrived with the Tyrells, but dutifully took your place by your family when Jon wished you would at least look over to him once. Wounds like that do not heal so easily, but it appeared as if there was no bruise around your eye at all.

You should've been allowed to walk in without covering it up, force everyone to see what a man like Ramsay does to his partner. Luckily, Jons morose attitude was easily hidden as well, but by the simple make up of that his Uncle Benjen beside him was equally as unhappy. But they suffered there together, both arriving in a variation of their attire with the Nights Watch, as if to separate themselves from those around.

Some laughs were found between the two of them. Jon knew Ghost was not supposed to be in the banquet hall, but as his name, no one noticed the direwolf laying by Jons feet unseen under the table. Without much thought even, in one moment sat by him a whole roast chicken, the next Jon had flipped a knife up, stabbing it in the meat and depositing it under the table to the very happy Ghost, as Jon continued like he hadn't done anything. Benjen tried not to laugh into the beer in his mug, and he too could see Jon failing to hide his own smirk as he brought his own up to his lips.

Every family who mattered was in attendance in the banquet hall, and outside the muffles of music and laughter where the thousands of other attendees shared the boasts of their own harvest. Thousands of years ago it was a tradition between those only of noble birth, to celebrate the Northern harvest together but the longer the years passed and more of community being formed within the lands less separated by monarchy, it had turned into something much more.

There were always two which switched, the Harvest Gala always took place in the North, hosted in the vast lands of Winterfell always by the Starks. The other was a much more specific celebration taking place in the capitol of Kings Landing.

Jon had never attended it, most Northerners didn't as most never even would go south of Moat Cailin. Close by his fathers seat, Jon could see the ever elusive Howland Reed. An old friend from worse days and the man only ever came out of his home in Greywater Watch for Ned's sake. His two children, Meera and Jojen sat next to each other as they would gesture across the way to Bran.

Even from where Jon was sitting further away, he amusingly could see Sansa desperately trying not to look over to the Tyrells, and then down to her lap only to recall father had forced them all to leave their phones in the main house. It had taken some years for her to settle, her attitude high strung and dismissively childish for many years all coming into a clarity the day she had sat down with their father and her mother. Robb and Jon being the eldest naturally being there too, as she had apologized for her behaviour.

It was much more easy to forgive her when her apology was followed with the admission that she and the Tyrell girl were seeing one another. Now that she had it out in the open, it was easier for the rest of them to move passed the rough years. But it also meant, that he knew for a fact Sansa had spent some time with you in the days previous.

Wanting to ask her about how you were, how your eye looked, if the cut across your bottom lip was indeed healed or if it was simply the red shade painting your mouth hiding it. He knew both his sister and Margaery must have had a hand in choosing how to dress you for the event.

Trying not to consider that the dress you were wearing clearly was borrowed and not your size, as certain places where your curves stood out so beautifully to him looked that much more alluring then it would on the rather small Tyrell. He knew for a fact you must have been embarrassed beyond anything walking in the main doors wearing something showing that much. It draped along your shoulders like a fine silk and down your back scooping low enough a few less inches of fabric and your hips would have been showing next. You kept a darker shall wrapped around you though, still not at all comfortable with how much the dress emphasized your breasts.

The amount of make up was their choice too, he knew that. The bold shade of red staining your lips as if meant to tempt men to ruin, it was not a choice you'd do on your own. It was as if you had been dressed to catch one's eye and as Jons flew across the hall a pair of pale blue ones had certainly been trapped in that net.

Ramsay had no right to look at you that way after what he did, Jon thought. He never gave you respect as it was, and this was something else. But Jons own watchful eye also caught what no one else was seeing as well. How every now and again, Ramsay would turn to the small dark haired girl next to him and the two would blatantly flirt and touch.

Were it a glass Jon was holding and not a much more sturdy made mug, it would've shattered from the force Jons hand was tightening around the grip. How often did Ramsay leave you after fucking you, to sneak off to whomever this girls bed was? How long had he been using you as a public shield to then sleep around behind your back?

Once more his eyes caught yours not looking at anyone. Sometimes sharing half baked smiles or a fake huff of laughter with your cousin Myrcella, but little else. You hardly touched your food, and the only other person in your families sitting who was out beating you in the amount of wine you were drinking, was your uncle Robert.

You had showed up trying to look as if everything was fine, but Jon knew the amount you were drinking was telling him you were anything but. Whatever dessert was sat in front of you as the night progressed too was passed by. Already forming a plan in his head, the moment the meal would end, Jon needed to make his way over to you. He needed to apologize before you were too drunk to be able to fairly understand it.

He was so angry when he had seen what Ramsay did, but he knew it was wrong to let that anger out around you. You deserved better then that, but he was beginning to sense you wouldn't be anywhere near sober enough to understand any apology at this rate. And the more you drank, the less he noticed Ramsay did.

Jon had too, but he stopped because he hadn't wanted to let any intoxicated emotions get the better of him about you. He suspected however, Ramsay had stopped, in order to gain back any sobriety he lost, so that he held all the power when he'd inevitably approach you. He would take advantage of your drunk state to weasel his way back into having you forgive him. Men like Ramsay, like Karl Tanner, they took advantage of girls like you.

Quiet and not confrontational, insecure and quiet so manipulating you into staying with them, and relying on them was easier. It was why Jon said he'd make sure you owned your own things once leaving Tanners house. He wanted to help you, but he didn't want you to rely on him. That was what Tanner did, moved you away from everyone who cared and made you rely on him for everything.

How long, Jon thought, would it take for Ramsay to convince you to leave the apartment and move in with him? Keep you away from the rest of them, and no doubt whisper things in your uncertain ear about Jon to drive a wedge between you. Tanner tried doing it to you about Jon as well, but it wasn't so personal. He spoke lies as such about anyone who wasn't himself. Not even Rast nor Locke, cravens that they were, were immune to that.

But Ramsay knew. Jon knew that Ramsay was fully aware of what Jon felt for you. It was why he loved dangling you in front of him, why he fucked you just loud enough to make Jon lose his mind at what he wasn't the one getting. Cancelled plans you were looking forward too, only ever did just enough with you to convince you to let him fuck you, and Ramsay had the audacity to touch and flirt with other women in the same bloody room as you, knowing you were too nervous to look at him.

Jon would rather you never date, then watch you continue to date men who saw your worth as nothing but something to shove their cocks in. You were so much more then that, but they had convinced you otherwise. Why else would you stay with a man who made you that upset so often normally, because you had figured it was all you deserved.

He didn't want to sit there and pretend he was a selfless man, Jon had the shame of knowing three times in one night he had gotten off to you before all this happened. You were his best friend and in more ways then romantic did he love you, but Jon still knew he couldn't lie to himself about the way he looked and thought about you. All you'd see is your best friend trying to take advantage of your weaknesses to get you into his bed.

The crowd was immense as you all stood. People everywhere you turned and your quiet self had gotten lost and forgotten in the sea of social waves passing you by. You hated this dress, you hated how much makeup was painted on your face, you hated having to play nice when all you wanted to do was find a bed to cry in for how much you let your life turn into this.

The air was warm, too warm as so many bodies took up the space in the room and spoke with their warm breath increasing. How did no one else notice the heat? How hard it was becoming to breath in such a heavy fog. Heart racing more as you felt your lungs tighten, you needed to walk away. Find a corridor mostly empty and walk until there was an alcove isolated to collapse against.

Nothing of what you drank told you if you were sober, you couldn't sense it underneath the racing in your head which flooded your nerves. You hadn't wanted to come, you hadn't wished to face how you were ruining your second chance at having a partner all for the same repeating reason. Whatever rationale you could lie to yourself with this time, did not exist when it was Karl Tanner in the role of Ramsay.

You had said it, and couldn't take it back. Karl didn't say what had happened, he didn't care about any of you involved once Jon drove you away, but Ramsay would. If you couldn't fix things with Ramsay he would use it against you, and who knows how many people would abandon you after that comes out?

You were pathetic, you always were. He's never wanted you, he still doesn't and yet you were broaching two separate relationships you've ruined over someone who does not want you. As your head leaned against whatever surface you found yourself at, you felt the world spin even as you stood still against a stone support.

“Now tell me, love, who did you dress like such a whore for?” Opening your eyes, the world still spun while still as a statue as you looked at Ramsay. Standing before you with a narrowed expression you had seen in the seconds between what happened that night, and how hard he had slapped you with the rough back of his hand. “Speak up now. Did you let the Tyrells slut you up to try and beg for me back, or did you just want to tempt any man in here that you were walking around with a sign hanging against you, that you'd spread your legs for the first one who walked up to you with a cock?”

Shaking your head, your words slurred as they were forced you beyond the heart pounding stammer overtaking with your nerves. “You- you always wanted me to dress like this.. I was, I'm only trying to listen to what you told me..”

The chuckle was fake, but you were far too drunk to also pick up the more sinister echo which matched behind his eyes as he invaded your space. Grasping rough at your jaw he didn't let you flinch away too much from his hissing. “Such a poor memory, do you need me to repeat what I actually told you? That if I'm going to fuck you, you may as well start dressing like someone who my cock would actually get hard for.”

You were so stupid. He was always going to be mad at you. You couldn't imagine how angry he'd have been were he to have actually taken you to that restaurant in Torrhens Square. He'd have asked where you got that long, white dress, why it covered so much of your skin, and why you disobeyed him when he had told you to go to that specific store to buy the short, red one in the first place.

Trying to stammer out, “I- I'm sorry..” He just tilted your jaw up to force your eyes up at his darker ones now trailing down your frame. You read the words, what he wanted. He had taught you by now, but you shook your head as something unsettled bubbled in your chest. “Ramsay, there's other people-”

“Did I ask about other people?” Saying no, you tried to insist on finding an empty room but he leaned in more. “Did I say I was going to do this in private? You're lucky I don't leave you naked and covered in me, here so everyone can see what a real whore does in the dark.”

As drunk as you felt, you were still in your head enough to feel utterly humiliated. If you were caught now, you wouldn't ever be able to look the Starks in the eye. You'd just move out on the spot and return to Dragonstone, hide away from the world on your grim, dark girlhood home. Too slowly you tried to pull one of the silky sleeves down your shoulder but he took over, the fabric ripping as you tried to argue, “Ramsay, please this is Margaerys-”

Shoving your legs apart, he only raised an eyebrow. “So I know who to blame for turning my girlfriend into a walking cunt begging to be filled.”

No argument came against that one, you had none. Your mind was nowhere near sober enough to wonder if he was wrong. You just accepted it. You almost ruined this relationship because you couldn't keep your mouth shut in the worst moment, so it was your duty to let Ramsay punish you in whatever ways you always dreaded. The mood he was in, you doubted he would even care wasting a single second getting you even slightly wet.

When he used sex as a punishment, you weren't meant to enjoy it. That was how it worked.

It took you longer then normal to realize why he didn't do anything. Suddenly moving away from you, your slow mind hardly caught up to the fact that there were now three large figures slamming Ramsay against the wall. Trying to protest, “Wait- stop, he didn't do anything.”

It wasn't until one of them spoke did the blur in you vision focus enough to see a teeth grittingly angry Robb was on Ramsays left, now turning back towards you, as Theon took space up on Ramsays other side. Not recognizing until Robb was already talking, that Jon was in Ramsays face, keeping him pinned to the wall with only one hand. “Didn't do anything?” Robb calling your name with a confused anger, “Did you not hear a word he was saying to you?”

Theon piped up with anger clear of his own, “Or how he busted your face?”

Swallowing, you felt lightheaded and confused more then any of them. “I-” A slightly stumble trying to stand up straighter as if they hadn't already seen how drunk you were. “That was an accident, he didn't do anything.”

Ramsay was quick on the draw making intentional mocking eye contact with Jon, “See, bastard? I didn't do a thing. Our girl here is just a tad too slutty for her own good, needs a stern hand to put her in her place, doesn't she?”

The guys all started to speak, but you felt your eyes sting with tears. Shaking your head at him not to say it, but Jon captured his attention. Voice so low and rough it was but a husk teetering with something burning in rage. “Don't talk about her like you care about her.”

He smirked, as you felt your stomach twist. “Oh I care deeply, bastard. It's why I was just so angry, you see. I take her to bed, show her my love and in return all she does is-”

“Ramsay, please.”

You tried pleading with him not to, but it was too late, as soon as he started to speak it was too late to keep it contained. “Was that so hard? You remember my name here, but not when I'm inside you?” He had turned to make eye contact with Jon, nothing but a smugness in letting it fall free. “Imagine how much it ruined the mood, when I'm fucking her nice and rough and suddenly, more desperate then I've ever heard her ask for it, does she beg your name before she cums.”

But whoever was the first out of the three of them to look back to you in surprise, you didn't know. You had taken off so suddenly and so fast that none of them knew where you went. As it turned out, utter humiliation sobered a girl up, right quick.

You weren't sure the last time you had been here, likely too many years to be worth counting back to, but it was just as beautiful as you remembered. The white bark standing out against red leaves with a face carved into it as if watching over the North it stood within. Back against it as you used your shall to sit on, to try and not muddy up Margaerys dress, despite looking too many times at the no doubt expensive silk now ripped along your shoulder.

Long enough it kept your legs from the cold as you pulled your knees to your chest, forearms resting over them as you had long since stopped caring about the stain of tears on your cheeks. You were such an idiot. You had let your feelings for Jon ruin two relationships, and now he and likely everyone else knew about it.

What was more pathetic of a revelation then your best friend calling your name when having sex with their boyfriend, you weren't sure.

Enough time had passed to which your drunken fog begun to lift and a stressing headache wormed its way in to keep you sitting in the cold air hoping you could find the courage to get up. You had your phone, that was it. Maybe it would be enough, perhaps if you could pull yourself together long enough you'd be able to convince your father to let you stay on Dragonstone until you figured out what to do next with your life.

As long as you could find someone who could drive you to White Harbour, your father could send someone to come bring you the rest of the way. What other choice did you leave yourself?

Robb and Theon would think you were pathetic, Jon wouldn't want you anywhere near him after this, and thus your presence in the Starks home no longer was welcome. You hadn't called Jon wishing he'd come get you that day with Karl because of anything like that, you had done it on instinct. He was your best friend, he was the only one you wanted to come get you but now it must feel as if you were a manipulative snake.

By the time you heard footsteps, you almost flinched to get up and apologize for being here, but it was in fact the rumble of Ned Stark coming to ease you from fleeing. “It's alright, no ones asking you to leave.” Muttering quietly why he assumed that was what you were planning, he without any care sat down next to you on the rock keeping elevated enough that a hand wrapped around your back and sat soothingly on your upper arm. “So you're telling me you weren't sitting here worried you were going to have to leave here and go back home?”

Looking away somewhat ashamed, your arms crossed more over the top of your knee. An uninspiring mutter, “I presume you know what happened.” Only a glance slightly to the side showed you his nod, and your head dropped into your arms. “Suppose everyone in the North knows by now.”

However, the man only chuckled. “Far from. I heard what happened, but put an end to any scene they were about to make before most noticed anything happened. No need to make a spectacle out of you after everything you've been through.”

Ned did not hear the first try, so you lifted your head and repeated your words as new tears gently fell once more. “I'm sorry, truly I am. I wasn't trying to ruin anything or manipulate anyone.” Asking where you had gotten that idea, you paused. Not yet clear enough from all the wine could you come up with but a shrug of a shoulder. “None of it was on purpose. It just happened. First with Karl, now with Ramsay. Two relationships I ruined by saying something I didn't even realize I had said until it was all over anyways.”

You were glad it was Ned Stark listening to this, not sure your own father would dare care to listen to anything even remotely close to a sexual topic like this, but he listened with the care he gave all his children, but to you. “None of us can control how we feel, sweet girl.”

The shrug and nod you gave didn't really indicate much, but he understood in your state that was all you could offer. The quiet of the night, this place far enough from the crowd not even the muffled nightlife of the gala could be heard. Only in that quiet did you say it, “You can tell him I'll move out.” Humming in question, you clarified. “Jon, I'm sure hes mad at me. Likely doesn't want to speak to me after that, you can tell him I'll move out. He bought a lot of my stuff, I won't take it with me he can sell it or whatever he wants. It was his money.”

Ned didn't say anything for a moment, and you had almost took it as a defeated acceptance that he would indeed deliver your last message to your best friend. But he didn't stay quiet, he only spoke in a quiet tone, pulling you closer to his side running his hand up and down your cold arm. “Tell me, if my son was angry with you, why when I last saw him, was he outside the hall worried sick that you had taken off drunk as you were.”

You struggled to envision it, but maybe it was the aforementioned drunkenness impeding your intelligence more then usual. “Because he's just a good person. Simple. Always has been, even now when I don't deserve it.”

It seemed whatever he had gleaned from such a comment had cemented an idea in his head. “Here's what we're going to do. We're going to get up, bring you back to the apartment. The boys are all busy right now hosting in my absence so you'll have it to yourself. We'll get you cleaned up and you won't worry about what comes next until you've slept the rest of this off.”

Truthfully, you were too tired should any argument have ever even existed within you.

Coming back down to the winding Gala late into the night, Jon noticed his father gesturing for him to come over to speak alone. Your name coming instantly out of his mouth, his father swiftly placated such worry. “She's alright. I brought her back up to the apartment to sleep tonight off.” Nodding, Jon stood tense as anything unsure as to how to breach the subject or if he should when his father did it first for him. “Whatever you're going to say to her Jon, go easy. She's upset and she's convinced herself you're mad enough at her she should move out.”

Face twisting in a mix of anger he could not fix from the night and a worry that everyone around you had let you get so intoxicated you spun a story such as that about him in your fears. “Did you tell her about-”

“I think she would take it better coming from you.” The two men stood for another quiet moment when he stepped towards him. A hand resting on his shoulder with a concern Jon knew was for both parties, himself and you. “And Jon, don't ambush her right away.”

Both nodded, his father leaving Jon to think. He knew he was right, he couldn't lay all his cards out on the table yet. Between Karl and Ramsay, they had done a number on your self worth. You'd jump in an instant to what Jon wished to say, if you thought it was a way to make it better. He needed it, only if you still wanted it once you felt safe in your own home again.

Strange, you had no dream and yet you were lulled into the world of the wake with something gentle along your hair. Not realizing until your eyes fluttered open that the morning sun was shining through your window. Jon was sat on your bed facing you, a hand running soothingly along your now loose hair.

Were your brain not about to explode from pain, you might have jumped up to apologize right away. But in your state, Jon continued to run his hands through the strands of your hair as he rasped quietly and comfortingly. “You're lucky to be alive. If I let Ghost come in here last night like he wanted too, he'd have cuddled himself into your side so much you'd have suffocated.”

The laugh was weak as you sat up, Jon not moving his hand from you as he tucked some of your hair behind your ear to more then cup your cheek and jaw. Your eyes heavy as you found a more shredded voice. “I could imagine worst ways to go.”

His grey eyes were as wide, bright and yet soft as ever. As if the night before was not an utter catastrophe you had brought upon your friendship, but the ship was steady on the water, you dared not yet rock the boat, listening to him with a warmth at his low rasp deep this early in your time awake. “You scared me last night, darling. Running off like that.”

Neither of you noticed how easily he slipped back into calling you that, or how you hadn't taken notice in any negative manner whatsoever. Sitting more against the headboard behind you, you were glad Ned Stark had insisted you wear something actually comfortable to bed instead of the ripped reminder of a terrible night. Your insides were warm as much as your front so close to Jon was warm from the proximity alone. “I'm the sorry one. About everything. Getting drunk, causing a scene..and..for-”

Mercy was what Jon showed you, but for why you couldn't put together. “You didn't do anything wrong. Ramsay's been barred from attending any Northern run event, and he's not allowed within two hundred miles of you.” Your brows narrowed in confusion, Jon giving you a gentle laugh in return, still toying innocently with your hair. “My father works fast when he's mad. I didn't think anyone could've been more mad at Ramsay last night then me, but he came back after bringing you home and went right to your Uncle to have a restraining order filed.” Asking why, Jon almost shook his head in a manner that was only amused by you. “You're like a daughter to my father, if he wouldn't let someone treat Arya or Sansa like that, he wasn't going to stand by and let Ramsay do it to you.”

Nodding, it felt strange that you weren't upset by it. Perhaps it was too early to feel it, but much was hard to care about when Jon was this warm and looking at you with such wide grey eyes pouring into your heart and soul as if he belonged there. “Jon..I really am sorry..”

But he only laughed a little, sliding his hand behind your head to pull you forward, Jon leaned enough to press his lips to your forehead. Murmuring against it, “Don't take off like that again, and you have no reason to be. Now come on,” Prompting you to slowly begin standing up, Jon rested a supporting hand at your lower back, pressing your unsteady self to his side enough he could rasp in your ear. “I'll make you something you can actually stomach.”

You didn't understand why Jon was making it so easy. For days now, things had been much like it had been before Ramsay ever entered the picture. Your days were normal, settled back into working without distractions and it all seemed as if the apartment was smoothly running.

Part of you wondered why it felt though, as if they were all waiting for something. You could only hope that it was not for you to fall off once more, you knew thus far your record had not been on your side but you hoped they had more faith then next to none. You wanted to start over this time, you were given that proper chance and you didn't want to waste it no matter what people were or were not presuming about you.

It seemed the restraining order was applied to those speaking of him as well. Margaery had not brought up anything, and when you had gone over to her house to profusely apologize over the dress she only wrapped an arm around your waist to drag you in, dismissing, “I have others.”

Trying not to fear this all had made you look as weak as you felt, but for how close you came to ruining things, Jon was the one easing that fear away. He was the only one who you didn't feel as if were watching and waiting for something you didn't understand, he treated you as the same as you two had been in your best of times. Before Ramsay Bolton, before Karl Tanner.

Things were normal enough between you that you, he and Ghost all went on a longer hike through the wolfswood for the first time in well over a year together. The warmer weather this time around was not quite what many would call warm in the south, considering heavier long sleeves were still the most necessary outerwear at the minimum, but it was not yet cold enough that spending so many hours outside wasn't preferable to ones health.

Small rolling hills led to cliff sides where the main river poured out in small divets of pooled lakes like a small waterfall, hardly anything for one who grew up on an island, but for here it was the most amount of a body of water you could get too within a days walk. Perhaps before you'd have worried about the quiet, but no longer did it feel stifling or on purpose.

Jon used to be the one person you could be your more naturally quiet self around and have it not be uncomfortable, he was the same way. The less talkative of the group of you, but together that silence was never filled only because the quiet as awkward. Jon would instinctively grab your hand to help hoist you up a steeper climb and push you forward with a hand on your lower back without sharing a single word and neither of you thought twice again.

Or how when you three had returned, Jon once again gently guided you to your shared bathroom first, quiet in your ear as it was late enough Robb and Theon were asleep. “You shower first, I'll get something started.” And without any more question, when you emerged, you took over what he had been doing and by the time his shower was done you both had a very late meal but in the comfortable presence of only you two.

For a while it went on as such, but you couldn't help those two same thoughts. Was everyone really just waiting for you to combust once more, and more importantly to you, why Jon hadn't even come close to bringing up what happened.

It went completely unspoken, but you didn't know why. Your friendship felt as strong as ever, but for what reason? You had completely violated his trust and it was as if he would rather forget, but it didn't work that way. He would've known you weren't to forget so easily, why was he? Were you lingering once more on the edges of feelings which Jon wished to pretend he never learned about? If so, why was he even more gentle and affectionate then before?

None of it made sense in your head, but you truly did not want to ruin things, not now. Not after being given another chance to keep him in your life. So you stayed quiet, didn't speak a word of it for as long as you could withhold the anxiety and nerves festering from your brain into entering your heart.

It was one evening, you both looked so much like you did as teenagers, sitting back against his bed, both too lazy to bother moving things around his room for a better set up, so your laptop was dragged in his room instead to watch something on there. Later into the night, the apartment was settled and only you two remained awake, but the mixture was dangerous for your subconscious.

His room always cozy and warm, and so was Jon naturally heated in his blood to never feel cold around and the dark from only a single lamp on his desk other then the screen, it all lulled you into relaxing a little too instinctively. You without realizing, allowed your head to rest on his shoulder, but Jon without asking you to move, stiffening up uncomfortably, or even hesitating, adjusted his position in order to wrap his arm behind you. Resting at your waist and tugging you firmly into his side as that same hand now ran lightly up and down your waist to hip and back.

Your- his shirt on you, rising slightly each time which his hand kept brushing your bare skin sending silent shivers along the surface. More and more did the film fade away, until you found a sleep more warm and soothing then you had in weeks.

Jon was caught between the concepts. Slowly shifting things as to not disturb you too much, Jon moved everything but the two of you off his bed, before turning to watch you carefully. The last time you fell asleep in his bed, it was in far more innocent times then what ran unspoken between you both now. He didn't want you to feel pressured, but Jon knew you were feeling the air between you different, and he did not wish to return to when it felt otherwise.

It was heavy and electric, but neither of you were such forward seducers to act upon it so brazenly. But, Jon still knew such feelings were there. So, instead of gently carrying you to your room and tucking you into your bed, Jon made a risky choice. Slowly helping you lay down on your side, Jon ran a hand over the hair at the side of your head, ensuring you hadn't stirred awake. Across the room, Jon turned his light off, and opening his curtains a slight bit to let some of the moonlight guide his vision.

On one end by the foot of the bed, the slumbering white ball of fur called Ghost slept soundly as you did, as if failing his guard duty to keep you safe laying only feet from him. But as Jon carefully climbed back onto his bed, he laid on his side to face you.

He watched at first, only watched. The peace in your face there was unlike the past years as tormenting figures appeared in and out of your life. Never did Jon presume his place, he was your best friend and he refused to act as if that made him obligated to your feelings. But it wasn't the same now, you had been keeping your own locked up just as, if not more tightly away from the world. Only coming out twice.

Jon knew now that was what Tanner was trying to tell him that day. That started the fight the morning he came to get you. You had spoken Jons name in the heat of the encounter, and then did it once more months later with Ramsay. He didn't want you to think you should stay here with him, but Jon also refused to allow you to push this all away in favour of lessening your value, to running to the next horrid man.

For now, as Jons hand ran up and down your arm, did you shift closer, and he spared no time in pulling your front into his chest. Meekly, your slumbering hands reached up, grabbing the edges of his shirt as if begging him to keep you there. And as he found a home to sleep in your hair and you in his torso, only quiet was found.

If you had one thing you needed to accomplish that day, it was to ask. You had to, even if you didn't like the answer, it was no longer appropriate to hide such wonders when he knew what you had done. But, part of you wished he wouldn't make it so difficult to be blunt about it. You had clearly fallen asleep watching the movie, and woken up in his warm, gentle embrace tucked into his chest. It felt right, and it also meant it felt unfair.

Jon should only show you such affection if he understood your mind had not moved on yet, if he wished to pull away then that was how it would have to be, but hiding your worry about it was not conducive to your dynamic anymore. But gods he made it so hard to get to it. Not even realizing you weren't alone in the waking world, Jon rasped in your ear so thick from the early morning it was just a heavy husk of a Northern accent slurring together. “Too early to think this much, darling.”

You breathed out a small smile, almost swearing you could feel him smile in your hair in return. Hardly loud enough to be heard by any not directly as close as Jon, you whispered back not yet yelling go of your fingertips toying with his shirt. “Not for how long I've been awake.” Oh that deep chuckle so close to your ear was deathly.

One of his hands around your hip and waist shifted up to run smoothing over your hair, slightly raking through the strands to pull a relaxing in your muscles against him. “Alright, why don't you wake me up by telling me what's going on inside here.” This thumb leaving it's touch to lightly tap at your head as if to indicate what he meant.

You had told yourself, ask it today. It came out as light, strained and breathless as if felt. “Are you never going to bring up what I did?” Instead of the hesitation you feared and worried, instead came the same soothing nature as he pulled you a bit closer.

Taking his own time to answer without making you worry of the passing moments to do so. “You mean when you called my name out in bed with Ramsay, or when you did the same thing with Tanner?” Your frozen nature must have given your shock away. “Wasn't difficult to put together once I knew the truth.”

Your voice muffled by his torso, but you were almost emotional at how grateful you felt he hadn't yet made you leave his warm comfort. “Aren't you mad?” Asking for what, you did not sound any more confident. “I violated your trust. Twice. Then hid it from you and lied about it.”

Once more his chuckle was utterly unfair, and his voice rasped so deep as his hands almost held you a bit tighter if you weren't imagining things. “Would you like to know what I was doing when you called my name out with Ramsay?” Not a clue how blind sighted you were about to feel, you shook your head before noticing for certain that time he held you tighter. “I was scrolling through all those voice notes you send to me, while my other hand was around my cock.”

Blood within you flooded with something warm like a burn, and only as you let a shaking breath out did Jon begun to somewhat ran his hand back to the side of your head, thumb much more firmly tilting you to suddenly meet his eyes, dark normally in colour but now the grey appeared closer to sinking into a black. “Why?”

Far too handsome for his own good when he laughed deeply, knowing your breath hitched as he leaned forward. Only to nudge your nose with his, letting his trace down yours. It seemed if your question was to be honest, he'd let his be as well. “Because I wanted to have you in my bed, instead of hearing you in yours with another man.”

Lips parting slightly, your eyes were wide trying to contain how both confusing yet unrealistic that sounded so early. And yet there was not a shred of lies or doubt within his gaze, only something far too dark yet affectionate that you wished to melt into. “But..you- why not say anything before I even met Ramsay..”

Thumb running firmly over your cheek, Jon had yet to pull away from you the rest of the way. Your mind trying to tell you otherwise, that you were imagining any other feeling. Jon though, was not you, and did not care about hiding it seemed now that the topic had been broached. “You finally had the courage to leave Tanner, I wasn't going to ambush you about my feelings when you needed someone to just be there for you. No matter how much I wanted you, still want you.”

Shifting you both every so sightly, Jon moved so you lay more on your back, and he partially still on his side, but somewhat hovered over you. Now looking at you with those bright eyes, curls all still pulled back from the night before. The hand on you cheek turned much more selfish in not pulling away from where it roamed. Tucking some of your hair behind your ear, before once more nudging your nose with his almost as it to tempt you with how close his lips would be at such a motion.

It felt like such an utterly girlish and child like question to ask, “Would all you want it to be is just..sex?”

Jons chuckle once more was deep, laced with something dark that should have set your nerves off and yet on him it only lit the fire within your bloodstream to flow. Muttering close enough to your lips you felt his breath dance across your skin as he cupped your cheek and jaw more to his control. “I want everything, all of it, as long as it's with you. I always have.”

Looking back up to his eyes, Jon looked you over carefully for a moment but in the heavy silence, slowly took over in seeking a path. Glancing between you and your lips, Jon was so close to closing that gap only as long as it took for your hands to so very willingly reach up to grasp at his shoulders and part of the back of his neck. The moment your own eyes slipped closed, you barley needed to move a single breath forward, for Jon to close the gap between his lips and yours.

Jons lips were softer then you could have dreamed of, guiding you in an instant as if kissing you was what he had been waiting for all his life, and not for a second did he waste time. Pushing up to hover over you properly, his hand at your face slid to cup the back of your neck, keeping you pressed to his lips with no escape. Not urgent, nor greedy, and without the incessant ask for you to get to it. Jon kissed you as if he enjoyed kissing you.

Which in truth, was foreign. Men didn't spend time kissing you unless they wanted to fuck, they didn't enjoy kissing, you had always thought that was the case with your limited experience. But Jon deepened his kiss as if the idea of leaving you yet was devastating, as if he sought salvation and he found it through kissing you rougher and needier. Small sounds left your chest, hands tight on Jons shoulders he begun to gently bite at your bottom lip.

Small as if only a nibble, it grew more and more of a bite until he tore a gasp from you, which was his sly plan. Using the opportunity to glide his tongue into your mouth, he brushed up against your tongue as if guiding you to explore him back all the same. Hardly did you, but hovering above you on the bed Jon was in control regardless. Stealing your very breath and drawing up small whines of need before he would pull back to only a deep kiss.

But then he'd bite and once more the entire process repeated but his need grew each and every routine. Harsher did he kiss you as your legs slid, bent by the knees you let them sit at Jons side when he tore from your lips. The saliva between you snapping as he spared no time in running his kiss along your ear and down to your neck. Lips and tongue setting the stage as he suddenly would bite down.

A gasp clawed from within, back arching up into his touch as Jon suddenly with a growl in his own chest begun to then suck at where his teeth indented into your sensitive skin, forcing the colours to turn to a tingling bruise of his making, swiftly marking down and down your neck until he reached the collar of his shirt. Hoisting himself back up, capturing your lips once more deep and breath taking did he pull back.

Both hands pressed beside your head as he looked down at you with a darker, more serious gaze. “Tell me if I'm taking this too far.” But you only shook your head, trying to desperately seek his kiss but Jon gently pushed you back down flat against his bed. That time his brows furrowing as if seeking something in your own need. “I mean it, we don't have to do this, any of this. Whatever you want we can take our time.”

It was a heart pounding need stealing your lungs away, and only a scrap of voice drenched in desire was left. Without even the means of seduction, it came off as better then any temptress could possible use her wiles towards Jon with. “We've already imagined it separately, but now I want to know what being with my best friend really feels like.”

Jons eyes fluttered closed, a low sound grunting inside to maintain but he surged back to cup the back of your head to leave a harsh, biting kiss to your needing lips before tearing away and back down the already sensitive trail he left on your neck. Kneeling up a bit for the leverage, Jon grasped the ends of his shirt on your body, looking up dark and face twisted so seriously to your expression. The single second it took for you to nervously nod yes, Jon had yanked it up off of you and tossed it far as if offended it covered you up for so long.

Staring at your heaving chest, Jon almost tore up in a glare had you not known any better. “You were with me all night and weren't wearing anything under this?” Your head shook no as the air shivered along your skin. Eyes closing again to sigh much more deeply Jon let a a hand reach up. Rough and calloused was striking against the soft skin of your chest, but it was as if his hands were made to fit with your breasts perfectly. Kissing back to your neck, now just as greedy at your collarbones, Jon spared no shame in only grasping at your other breast for the time it took for his lips to reach it. One hand pinching the small, pink bud of your breast to stiffen it up for his hand to twist at, chest arching up more for him while his teeth sunk into your other breast. Biting the same as his hand twisted the other and your hips writhed desperately at the feeling.

Trying to reach for his own shirt, Jon used his free hand to snatch yours, slamming it down beside your head and intertwining his fingers with yours, without ever easing up the treatment sparking such a burning coil within. Gasping his name, Jon bit and sucked at your breast as his hand groped a tightness that in another mans touch would've hurt. But Jon kept you on the precipice of pleasure and just enough pain to keep you pliable for him.

Pulling from you, Jons eyes scoured his work and the trail of saliva left on your breasts no doubt you could feel in the cooler morning air. His hands were slow as he reached your the top of your pants, but the second you didn't blink or flinch but slightly raised your hips Jon stared at every inch of skin pulling them from you revealed to him.

Tossing them away, Jon ran his hands up your calves as they once more parted for either side of his body, Jon held at your thighs. Spread for him and nothing hiding the rest, you had been next to him for hours this bare under the basest of clothes and yet he was only finding out now.

But he allowed you to lean up, drag his own shirt up and over his head. Grasping the back of your neck as you leaned up towards him, Jon licked back into your mouth much more freely groaning as he hoisted one thigh up at the side of his hip. Only the lower and lower down your body Jons lips and kiss explored the more your heart begun to pound irregularly, something unsure in your head making you sit up away from him when you realized. “What are you doing?”

Jons eyes were wide, almost as if stunned at your sudden confusion. “Wh- I'd like to taste you, darling-” Interrupting with a short and high pitched ask of why, Jon almost breathed a laugh. Leaning up to better meet your now on edge posture sitting up on your elbows. “Because I've always dreamed of it, because I really want you to feel good.”

You had no way of knowing how much you were ruining him, how hard you were making his cock still hidden under the jeans he fell asleep in. “No, I mean why would you ever want to do that?”

There seemed to be a disconnect. The ease in which Jon was so sure of the ways he wished to explore you, and you not at all grasping why Jon would want to do things Karl and Ramsay told you men absolutely hated. Tilting his head, he ran his fingertips along your cheek some. Sighing through his nose trying to collect his thoughts, low and rasping he explained to you. “Because if your lips taste that good alone, I'm dying to know how you taste between your legs. And I promise it will feel good for you.”

But you shook your head. “No it-” Sighing out of something unsure, you shifted up a bit more as Jon, returned to hovering somewhat over you. His hand never leaving your touch as it ran along your gentle cheek. Collecting your thoughts, ignoring how your neck and breasts stung with the same bruising from his mouth, and yet feeling lightheaded at how much you like the feeling. “Men only do that stuff in videos, none of you really want to do that.”

You didn't understand why Jon was looking at you that way. Confused and if you weren't mistaken, almost a bit heartbroken. Asking roughly and short in tone, “What else did those two say. About sex, about what people do together?”

That was easy, they told you consistent things. Which was why you were so confused as if it was the first time anyone was telling Jon something men were all supposed to have agreed on. Anything a man does to you, you owe him back, be it between your legs or getting on your knees. All that romantic stuff was for movies and all the stuff men did in porn to pleasure women was just that, for porn. They didn't like it, they both were just actors doing a job.

He had to look way for a moment, Jon couldn't look at the genuine, almost innocent expression on your face as you said all of this. Hands curling onto a fist as they rested beside your body in the sheets but he shook his head. Jaw clenching trying to keep it together before rasping out, “I need you to listen to me. And I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but you need to hear this. Karl and Ramsay were just using you for sex. They didn't care how you felt or if you liked it, they wanted to fuck you and all they cared about was that you let them.”

He was right, you didn't really feel good inside your heart hearing it. But it paired so oddly with the way he was looking at you with something you were a bit scared to admit you were hoping looked like love. Your voice was as week and unsure. “I..I just wanted to do this right this time..Ramsay used to always leave to go see another girl.. so I started just doing what he wanted because I thought he was losing interest because I was doing it wrong.”

Were you not laying gently out and naked on his bed, Jon may have found the anger in him to lash out at that. Unable to stop thinking that you knew, you knew Ramsay saw other girls and he wouldn't put it passed Karl to do the same. You were someone he loved, but in a way Jon knew he had his work cut out for him with you. You had a lot to learn about your own pleasure.

Leaning into you, Jon forced you to lay back down against his bed. Capturing your lips in a quick but biting kiss, muttering into them as he pulled back. “Will you let me prove you wrong? Will you let me taste you? Make you feel good like you deserve?” Trying to ask what about him and Jons eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head desperate for his mouth to just drink between your legs already. A growl deep in his words. “I promise, darling. This is as much for me, as it is for you.”

Nodding with a hesitant, “Please..” Jon knew he had to control his need. He'd keep you here pinned to his mouth another time, but right now he needed to show you why you deserved this kind of pleasure and why he wanted it so badly. “I trust you, Jon.”

His kiss was much softer then, muttering “I'll take care of you.”

Moving down, Jon hoisted one of your thighs up over his shoulder, nudging your other open wider on his bed as you shook. Feeling his warm breath, Jon pressed a gentle kiss to your clit. Jumping slightly in his tough, he reached out to grasp your hips, gently shushing you. “It's alright, I've got you.”

Each subsequent kiss was slowly followed by his tongue gently licking at the bundle of nerves, building the fire within up and up within you but keeping you perched on the edge of an orgasm, already feeling somewhat embarrassed by how quickly he worked you to it. Jon however, hardly cared. Sucking it more before running his tongue tightly against it, his eyes closed you felt his facial hair burn between you, gasping out at the roughness contrasted to his mouth licking and nibbling at your clit. But yet, it was another gentle kiss which pushed you. Arching off the bed, Jon grasped your free leg and threw it over his shoulder before yanking you down the bed.

Tongue hot and wet, licking flat down your folds to your core and were his eyes not closed he'd have them rolling onto the back of his head at the taste. If possible, you came quicker. Barley managing to drink every bit of wetness you gifted him between your legs, Jon heard you cry his name with breathless pleas as if this was even a fraction of how long he'd keep you there. Licking flat, he ran his tongue just barley inside of your cunt as you let go once more.

You had not realized how terribly worked up you felt until your orgasm let free within Jons tasting mouth as he grunted against you. Drawing back up to your clit he let those sparks of twisting need feel overwhelmed a bit more before kissing up your mound and to your stomach. Your mind a mess, not noticing really what he was doing now as your eyes closed and ringing in your ears from something so burning so addictingly inside your core.

By the time Jon surged upwards, he gently hooked your hip at his thigh, leaning to kiss you again, your hands winding behind his neck. A gentle smile came over him as he pulled away, “I know it was a lot, but tell me, did you enjoy it?” Nodding, still catching your breath, he smiled brighter. A single kiss to your lips. “Good, because we're going to do that longer and longer each time from now on. I want you to feel as good as I do. Now, we don't have to do anything more,”

Just as Jon trailed off, you felt a shiver run down your spine and arms into your chest. Feeling his cock gently run along your soaked core, you hadn't even been in the head space to notice when he took everything else off of himself. It was overwhelming, being bare against Jon who matched in his bed like this, but you couldn't feel the nerves normally present. You looked up at his bright grey eyes and closed yours to kiss him.

Hardly pulling back to whisper, “Please, Jon. I want to feel you inside me, I've wanted to for so long..”

Dropping his head in your neck, he muttered just as low and rough. “I know, darling. I know.” You read the unspoken of his own desire matching so perfectly for so long yet only now were about to join in a harmony.

Sliding inside of you slowly, Jon growled without removing himself from your neck at how smoothly you took his entire cock, but yet the tensing of nails in his skin at your sharp gasp. He stretched you so thick, you felt woozy thinking of his size, of how deep he was. A shameful thought would your hand even be able to wrap around him.

But he slid deep, and never sped up. Slowly pulling almost all the way out, Jon slowly pushed back in. Your cunt soaking around him, but only small sounds shared in the air other then the obscene sound each time his cock sunk deep as you were utterly wet around him. To either man before him, this pace would be unbearable and awful. But with Jon, you felt as shaking in need clenching around him as he throbbed inside of you.

Pulling up, his eyes hooded and his lips parted, he kissed you with a sloppiness that you matched, each slow thrust of his cock somehow less urgent then the gentle, slow manner he kissed your lips. Every step of the way you felt embarrassed how you came so easily, but Jon never stopped for one. Until you would cry out from too much, Jon wouldn't leave.

Slowly letting his cock push deep inside of you, licking his way into your mouth to match such a pace, but he kept going. Throbbing deeply as you let a leg wrap somewhat around him, Jon groaned your name just barley against your lips. As unexpected as your end was found with him inside you, Jon almost surprised himself with how suddenly he finished. Throbbing inside of your soaking, tight walls, Jon suddenly buried his head in your hair, pulling you to his neck as he pressed tightly against you into the bed.

Spilling inside of you, you felt his seed was somehow almost hot. Thick that you felt strange taking so much of it so deep but you let your other leg find your ankle around his back as Jon almost grasped at your waist to keep you steady as he slowly filled you with his thick, pouring seed. Your heart feeling light in your chest, but as Jon pulled you both up to meet your lips something in his passion told you he felt the same floating feeling.

Though you did notice, how he had yet to lose any shred of how hard his cock was inside of you despite cumming mere seconds ago. And when Jon didn't pull out, only sped his pace up just the slightest as he once more thrusted in and out of your cunt, his forehead leaned against your as you wrapped up in each other.

It was slow, and not urgent, and still very much brand new to a strange degree but Jons cock gentle inside of you was the first time you both felt as if you finally fit into each others life properly.

It was some hours later when you both properly emerged to the world. Only after Jon had lost his control when trying to clean you both up, and pressed you against the wall of the shower. Holding your hands above your head against the tile as he slid inside of you again and again. Only when the water turned cold did he pull out.

Each time a little faster, a little rougher, and a little more greedy for what you finally let him sink his cock deep inside as if you both desperately needed it. Which you did, only, your hearts also followed such a connection that time.

The topic though, was not at all addressed in the apartment until that evening when Robb and Theon came home. Jon had currently been hovering by you looking into the fridge as you both decided what you would cook together. His hand so freely pressing against your lower back in such an intimate stance for two best friends.

Theon had commented first, much to how quickly it made you playfully roll your eyes. “So, are we turning your room into a nursery, or have you two not moved everything into his yet?”

Robb's laugh was louder then Theons, but nowhere near as free and amused as Jons as he joined. Pulling your head close to press a kiss to the side of your hair, did it clue in. They had all been waiting for something to happen.

You were just the last one to find out it was not for anything morose. Theon and Robb had simply put bets as to how long it would take for Jon to finally make a move. Though, considering both of them handed the silver to Jon instead, your realized no matter what changed between the love you felt for your best friend, you still lived with three brothers who all were very unaffected by this new development.

Theon once more asking in jest about the nursery thing, and in truth, Jon had left you entirely flustered as he muttered both into your ear and loud enough for the others to hear, “We have a lot of years to make up for, shouldn't take long.” Your hanging head and deep sigh had all three laugh at your expense that time.

Some things it seemed, would always stay the same between you four.

[arsenal-womens-1]

Secret 3rd kid part two

[Part 1]

After chatting with the girls for a bit, I picked up my bag, which was definitely heavier than it needed to be. That's a problem for another day. Saying goodbye to the 4 girls, I walked out of the training facility.

A cold shiver ran down my spine as the English weather hit me. Walking to the car, I glanced back at the facility. This was home until 2025. It was definitely different from my old team.

Getting into my car, I put on my seatbelt after starting the car and connected my phone to the Bluetooth, playing a random playlist. About 15 minutes later, at a red light, I got an Instagram notification

Arsenal Women just posted. Seconds later, my phone started blowing up with people following me. Turning back to the road, I turned right, parking my car.

Walking into the apartment building, I climbed the stairs and opened the door to my apartment. Boxes were scattered everywhere. Walking to the window in the living room, the sound of rain echoed through my apartment. This was life now. 6 hours and 41 minutes away from everything

I knew and loved. It was scary. I knew nothing about this country except that my mama was the coach of the national team. I knew nobody. I knew a lot of the lounges but not all of it.

Walking over to the bedroom, I pulled the mattress off from leaning against the wall and let it fall to the ground. Opening one of the boxes next to where the mattress was, I pulled out a blanket and pillow, throwing them on the bed.

Flopping down after curling up under the blanket, I listened to the rain and the cars. I must have fallen asleep at some point. It was now 6:30 am.

I had a meeting at 9:30, and then the team doctor wanted to have a chat and a checkup, something about me playing again.

I had only played 10 minutes in my last game, having just come back from an Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL) tear. They just wanted to ask questions and see how it was doing and how I was doing.

Getting up, I walked to the boxes in the corner of the room, opening them. I grabbed the first thing I saw—a gray cropped hoodie with matching pants. For shoes, I picked Air Jordan 1 Mid College Gray. Walking to the fridge, I got out the only thing that was in there: a strawberry Greek yogurt. After I finished it, I threw it in the bin.

Walking to the door, I picked up my car keys. The car ride over to the training center was uneventful. Walking through the door, I was greeted by the media team. I waved at them, walking past, realizing I had no clue where anything was.

Luckily, Jonas came out of nowhere. "Hey, I thought you might need a bit of help finding where everything is." We both started walking in the direction I kinda remembered. "Yeah, I kinda forgot where to go." Turning left, there was a door that said meeting room. "Yeah, a lot of new people do for the first 2 or 3 days." Chuckling a bit, I replied, "Glad to know I'm not the only person to ever get lost on their first day."

Walking into the room, most seats were taken, but there were a few open ones in the front. Hearing the door open, everyone looked at it. I walked over to one of the open seats.