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#they’re married in this one to keep up my own continuity
jurassiccraft · 8 months
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I prefer women (as inspired by this tweet)
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thelostmagicians · 11 months
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Love Comes In Threes | Steve Harrington
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Summary: Steve Harrington loves you, he just can't say it. [2k]
Fluff, comfort, slight angst, emotionally/verbally constipated Steve
The last time Steve Harrington said I love you to someone she ripped out his heart and left with the boy she told him not to worry about. 
He doesn’t remember the last time he said it to his parents, only that he stopped trying after he kept getting the dial tone in response to his feelings. 
So you weren’t exactly surprised or upset when he kissed you instead of saying it back 6 months into your relationship. 
_
The first time you said I love you to Steve it was a stormy evening. The both of you agreed to take things slow, wounds from the past still open and healing. But he just looked so handsome that night with his hair tousled in a perfect mess, red creeping on his cheeks from the cold air as the both of you raced towards his car trying to protect yourselves from the rain. He turned the heat on as he took your hands in his in an effort to warm you up. You tried to hold it in, you swear you did, but the love you had for him weighed down on you like an anchor and you thought if you didn’t tell him that second you were going to drown in your own feelings. 
“I love you,” you had whispered as he continued rubbing his fingers over yours. He paused his actions, shyly looking up. The red on his cheeks could no longer be blamed on the cold because now he was feeling as the sun was glowing warm in his heart. 
“You sure?” he asked you. Instead of answering you kissed him, hoping your lips would act as a spout and pour how you felt directly into him.   
You knew that like you, Steve had been hurt in the past so when he pulled you in for another kiss instead of saying it back you never questioned him. 
_
But that was a year ago. 
Almost two years into the relationship and Steve still hasn’t said I love you back. Every time he hears it fall from your lips, he’ll just give your hand a squeeze and carry on. You want to think it isn’t a big deal. You try to convince yourself that the L word isn’t necessary in your relationship, not when you share a home, a bed, secrets, and, hopefully, a family in the future. But no matter how hard you try to ignore your feelings it still leaves you disappointed when you see couples everywhere throw the three words around like they’re playing catch. It’s an endless cycle of disappointment for not hearing it, guilt for questioning the love Steve has for you, and frustration for why it mattered so much.
“As someone who Steve previously loved, do you think he actually loves me or is he just… settling?”
Your question makes Nancy freeze, the book she was previously trying to shove back in the shelf falls with a loud thud. She throws an apologetic smile at the librarian who shakes her head in disapproval. 
“What are you even talking about?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I brought it up. But I was just thinking, Steve loved you Nance. He told you he loved you. It’s been years and people still remember how broken he was after you left. Like if I left would he be just as sad or would he be okay.”
“Are you planning on leaving Steve?” Nancy stutters out.
“Well no…definitely no. It just makes me wonder if people can see that Steve loves me or if they think of me as the passerby keeping him from you while you were the one that got away. Whenever I tell someone I’m dating Steve all I ever hear is good on him for moving on, poor thing was a wreck after Nancy Wheeler left.”
Nancy picks up her stack of books as she leads you to the front desk, “Look what Steve and I had was over before we both even realized it was over. He loves you, I think… I think he loves you more than he could’ve ever loved me. And why do you even care what people think? These are the same people who think Robin is a sinner and that my parents are happily married.”
You roll your eyes in affection as you help her with her books. “I guess you’re right…” you trail off as your eye catches a magazine. In big bold letters you read 100 Different Signs Your Man Loves You.
“Oh please you can’t be serious.”
You give her a sheepish smile as you check out your rental and head back home. 
The magazine was utter trash. It had nothing, but surface value declarations that did nothing to soothe your worries. You stopped reading after sign 8 when it said Ladies if your man compliments your cooking, then it means he’s thinking about locking it down! Because remember a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!
Your Steve wasn’t like this. Your Steve was the kind of guy who knew you were having a bad day before you even had the chance to tell him. Your Steve was the kind of guy who would willingly wake up early and go out into snow just to heat up your car so you won’t have to drive in the cold. 
You sigh as you toss the magazine in the back of the car making a mental note to drop it off at the library on your way to pick up Robin for your girls day.
You honk twice in front of Vickie’s house before Robin comes bolting down the driveway, shoes in hand and trying to wrestle her jacket on. She gives you a wave before climbing in and greeting you with a tight hug. 
“I see your sleepover went well,” you tease. 
Before she can tease back Vickie knocks on the window prompting Robin to roll it down. 
“Hi, Vickie” you smirk up at her, eyes darting to the purple bruise under her ear that she poorly tried to conceal with makeup. 
She waves shyly, “Robin… I forgot to say,” she looks at you nervously, “Nevermind, just I’ll see you tomorrow.” She quickly kisses Robin’s cheek and scurries back inside. 
“So… what was that whole thing with Vickie about?” you try to ease in. 
Robin bumps her head on the window when you pull into a parking spot, “Oh Vickie? She’s still nervous about saying the L word publicly so that’s what she was doing.”
“At least she’s saying it privately,” you huff under your breath. 
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing, I was just asking how she says it in public if she isn’t comfortable?”
“You know the cheek kisses she gave, that was it.”
You quickly put the shirt you’re holding back on the rack before looking at Robin confused. “What do you mean, is that your guys’ secret language?”
Robin laughs, pulling up a skirt to herself. “No silly, haven’t you ever heard the saying love comes in threes. When you touch someone three consecutive times it’s the equivalent of I. Love. You. Hence three cheek kisses equal an I love you.”
“That’s so cute,” you squeal, squeezing her arm and testing it out for yourself. 
She squeezes back instantly, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, considering Steve’s the one that introduced me to it.”
Your steps falter behind her. “Hang on, Steve? My Steve, told you that?”
“Yeah, he said his Nana used to do it when they were kids or something like that. Told me before I told Vickie I loved her. Do you think this skirt is cute or should I save my money for a Madonna tape?”
Robin keeps rambling as you stay in place, your thoughts spiraling. Her confession makes you think about every single time Steve’s ever touched you. Every morning before you part ways how he pecks your lips once, twice, and a little longer the third time. How he squeezes your waist three times when he walks past you to get his favorite mug. How he reaches for your thigh, hand, anything he can get ahold of just to get three squeezes in. How he taps your arm in his sleep, again always in threes. You would stay up trying to figure out what song his taps represent before eventually drifting off yourself.   
This whole time you were waiting for Steve to verbally express his love when he was doing it quietly in his own way, more often than you ever did. 
You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a tear slowly drip down your neck. 
“Hey what’s wrong are you okay?” Robin asks frantically. She drops her bags, hands squeezing your arms and eyes darting around for any signs of danger. 
You nod through your tears, “I’m okay, can we just go. I have to get home, I know it’s crazy but…”
Robin nods, grabbing your arm and leading you to the exit. 
The car ride back home is quiet, Robin didn’t even whisper a goodbye when she left simply settling with a quick peck to your forehead and soft smile. 
Your thoughts feel overwhelming like everything is going a mile a minute when you think about Steve. You think about your first date, your second, and your third and so on. How Steve ended every night with three of something. 
Your body is on autopilot as you make your way through the front door. Keys tossed in the bowl, coat hung up, and shoes thrown off. 
“Hey baby, you alright? Robin called asking if you were okay.” A concerned Steve comes into your vision, he quickly wipes his hands on the kitchen towel before flinging it over his shoulder and kissing you. Once, twice, and thrice.
Your hard stare makes him nervous, he’s never seen you like this before. “Honey,” he whispers out.
You take a deep breath in, “You never said I love you to me, not after I said it first, not even when you asked me to move in.” You pause trying to compose yourself while Steve avoids your gaze. “This whole time I thought you didn’t love me like you should, that you loved me, but you weren’t in love with me.”
Steve lifts his head up, baffled, he goes to argue until you lift your hand up signaling him to wait. 
“Robin told me something about how love comes in threes, today. How three taps, or any kind of touch in rapid succession three times is the equivalent of an I love you,” he finally meets your gaze as you slowly walk over to him, tugging on his waist to hold him as close as possible. “You told me you loved me on our first date, you told me the night we had our first kiss, you told me on our anniversary. And you tell me everyday. I don’t think there’s an hour that goes by without you telling me.”
Steve pulls you into his chest before gently lifting your head and kissing you three times. You giggle at the not-so-secret-anymore gesture. “I’m trying. I really am trying hard to say it, but I do. I really do. I want you to know how important you are, but I’m also scared. So I guess this was my way of saying it, reminding myself that when I do eventually say the words… you won’t leave.” 
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for not seeing your love. For not understanding that even though you love me quietly you love me the most. Your love is in the tiny but grand gestures that I take for granted, but would miss deeply if I didn’t have it. I don’t need the words anymore Steve, I just need you because you love me more than I ever thought was possible and that’s enough. You’re enough.”
He squeezes your shoulder three times before whispering the words you’ve always wanted to hear from him. 
They say love comes in threes and your love with Steve may be quiet, but it’s everywhere. 
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pixiesfairygrove · 11 days
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๋࣭ ⭑ when did that get there ?
a five hargreeves short fic . . ☕️💼
context : five hargreeves likes to play with your rings ᡣ𐭩.
warnings : maybe just some cursing .ᐟ
author’s note : I MISS WHEN S4 FIRST CAME OUTTT (it’s been a month holy moley) this is my first fic ever on this account !! i hope you guys liiiiikeee it <3 i miss my husband. (he’s not real)
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ever since five and you had gotten stuck in an apocalypse together, you two grew to be very comfortable with each other. almost best friends, just complete opposites. you were more positive, and charming. five was a grump, and liked to keep alert and see all sides of the situation.
so when five had his idea about escaping the comission through a series of equations that would set off a timeline portal, he took you with him. seeing him as a thirteen year old had really set the memories spiraling in your mind.
— 𐙚₊˚⊹ 🎱
“(nickname), you alright?”
“huh?”
“i asked if you were alright.”
five looked at you, waiting for your answer. “yeah. peachy.” you gave him a faint smile, reading the newspaper for any clues to the 2019 apocalypse. you looked back down to the unhelpful articles and advertisements after.
his stare at you lingered for a little longer. he held the cup of espresso in his hand, after taking a break from his math solving on the chalkboard of his childhood bedroom. he sat beside you, watching your eyes scan through the newspaper.
his eyes moved to the silvers on your fingers. “where’d that come from?” he furrowed his brows at the jewelry. “uhm..” you raised a brow, looking at where his eyes were directed at and you lifted your right hand. “i wore more rings when i was younger..” you let the whisper slip.
you put your hand down again, and he took your left hand. “handmade? they’re pretty.” he commented lightly. you felt the heat rush to your face, but you kept your eyes on the new newspaper from under the bed.
you could feel his hands play with the silvers that hugged your fingers, he continued to watch you go through the papers one by one. “well, i gotta continue my problem solving.” he cleared his throat and picked up his feet half an hour later. “oh, okay.” you only replied.
you could use the break too. you put the grey papers away and walked into the hargreeves’ mansion’s kitchen to grab something to eat or drink. finding klaus there chugging a bottle of alcohol, “(nickname)!” he greeted you with hands raised and a wide smile.
you only giggled at him, “don’t drink too much klaus. but hi.” you sent him a friendly and charming wink as you grabbed the loaf of bread.
“hey, that’s new.” he pointed at your left hand. “what? my rings? they’ve always been there.” he took another chug from the amber bottle. “no, no, you used to only have four. your ring finger was always nakey.” he smiled.
“what?” you took your hand out, and it was true. there was a new ring there. it didn’t look like any of the ones you used to own when you were younger, and it was gorgeous. from the white stone and the silver band, it looked exactly like ..
“that’s a beautiful engagement ring, (name).” allison commented as she walked in the kitchen to get some coffee.
you stopped your tracks. “i, i need to go.” with your eyes wide, you ran out of the room and back to five’s.
“i think she’s drinking too much.”
“shut up, klaus.”
you ran into five on your way to his room, bumping into him, “oh — (na)—“ “when?!”
you raised your left hand to his face. his face lit up, staring at the ring he planted on your finger. “do you like it?” you put the hand down, your jaw on the ground.
“five, are you fucking — i love it!” he smiled. “but, but,”
“i wanna marry you (name).” he took your hands in his own warm ones. it was warm from the coffee. and from sweating. you looked into his eyes, “you’re my best friend. and i want to marry you, before the world ends. in case it ever ends.” he added.
you only looked at him, “fives.. of course i will.”
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suhnshinehaos · 1 year
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' ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE ' | c. hansol
synopsis : the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much pairing : vernon x gn!reader genre/s : mini smau, non-idol au, fluff, little bit of angst
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five (finale!)
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walks with hansol aren’t always silent. when they are, they’re almost always comfortable. tonight isn’t one of those nights. you always know when there’s something on his mind. you see it in the way his gaze combs through every inch of the venue grounds, each step cautious and careful. he keeps his hands behind his back as both of you walked past a wooden sign, pointing one way to a quaint little building meant for the ceremony and the reception tent. 
you head for the direction of the building.
the small building was mostly empty, except for the rows of chairs and wooden arch decorated with dried and fake flowers at the very end of the room that had been set-up earlier in the day.  both of you opted to keep the wedding small. only sending out invites to family, close friends, and — of course — business associates. 
you absently run your hand over the backs of each wooden chair as you follow hansol. he’s a few   steps ahead, but both of you make your way down the aisle. it’s only then that it finally, truly, sinks in what was going to happen tomorrow.
you’re going to marry your best friend. your hansol. your sol, with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. with the most comforting voice you’ve ever known. the same kid you’ve known before you could even walk on two feet. 
“are you sure you want to go through with this?”
his voice snaps you out of your train of thought. hansol has already reached the end of the aisle and he’s looking at you with expectant eyes. his voice is soft, hesitant, the most worried you had ever heard it. 
you don’t hide your confusion as you pick up your pace until you reach him. you raise a brow, standing just a few feet in front of him. “why are you asking me that? of course, i want to go through with it.”
you reach out, grab both of his hands, and give them gentle squeeze. hansol squeezes back, taking a deep breath, and gathering all the courage he has in himself. “you know how when we go on these late night walks, when you can’t sleep, or i get caught up in work?”
“mhmm.”
“you know the phrase i always say?”
“the moon is beautiful.” you let out a quiet exhale, recalling the words he always spoke to you. in a voice that’s tender and yet somewhat distant, as if he doesn’t want you to hear. but you always do.
and he knows that you do.
“to you, this could just be a business deal. a means to an end-”
your eyes widen, voice rising uncharacteristically as you cut him off. “that’s not how i see it at all. you know that.”
“you’re marrying your best friend.” he smiles, albeit sadly, and shakes his head immediately after. hansol lets go of your hands and lets his own fall at his sides, defeated. “it’s different for me… i’m marrying my best friend, and the love of my life.”
you feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you blink them back and you let hansol continue speaking.
“going through with this is fine by me, but i don’t want you to wake up one day and regret it. because i love you. i don’t know why, or how, but i’ve never known a day where i didn’t love you.”
the weight of his words sit heavy on your chest, and you don’t let the silence last more that a few seconds. you reach a hand towards your pockets and pull out a bracelet. “i’ve been meaning to find a way to give this to you, i was hoping to do it before the actual ceremony. this wedding has been so publicized, and i wanted to take a moment that’s just between us two. no cameras, no press, no board members.”
you take his left hand and hansol lets you place the bracelet around his wrist. it’s a simple chained gold bracelet, but threaded through the loops are strands of cotton strings from a friendship bracelet you had made him in your childhood. you smile as his eyes light up in recognition.
“where did you find this?”
“i had some help from wonwoo. it took him a while to find that. i have one with the bracelet you made me, but it’s in my room and i didn’t wear it so i don’t spoil the surprise.” you laugh, shrugging your shoulders. “i know this wedding changes a lot of things, most of which are on the business side of things. it won’t change a lot either. you know, we’re not doing rings or taking each other’s last names. it doesn’t change the fact that we will take care of each other. and it doesn’t change the fact that i’m in love with you.”
his eyes widen in shock. “but wonwoo?”
“well, since he was older, it was kind of expected that i would marry him. and i thought, if i spoke of it enough times, i could will it into existence that he was the one i had feelings for.” you sighed. “but i’m standing here with you tonight, very much in love with you, like i have been the past couple of years. and i will stand with you tomorrow, in front of our friends and family, letting everyone know that this feeling isn’t going to change.”
hansol stands there, completely and utterly speechless. but mostly because he knows mere words would never be enough to express everything that he feels for you. so instead, he pulls you in for a kiss. 
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from reese, with love <3
and this ends the story of hansolyn !! they are so dear to me, thank you for joining me on this little adventure !! i hope enjoyed this story, and as always, i'd love to know what you think !! reading all your asks/rbs/replies is one of the highlights of writing these little brainrots <3 hope you're all doing well and taking care !!
ps. yes, i used 'the moon is beautiful' (pls look this up if u dont know what it means, it's v sweet hehe) as a plot moment again-- i just cant help it,, it was right there cmon sol like the sun and now we have yn and the moon sdfghjkl
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nadvs · 2 months
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why do i see cheerleader reader having daddy issues, so when she tells rafe she’s pregnant, she’s so emotional and scared about how he’s gonna react and if he’s gonna break up with her or something
it tracks 🥺 she always expects to be disappointed by men and it’s not just because every guy she’s dated before rafe has treated her badly…
based on this fic
when she moves in with rafe after she finishes her post-grad internship, she’s still on the pill. one day, she’s complaining about the side effects of it as she’s making herself lunch and her boyfriend says, “then stop taking it.”
she looks at him from across the kitchen.
“we’d have to use protection,” she says. “every time.”
“sure. but is it so bad if…?”
she’s shocked. they’ve been together for about two years now and they’ve never talked about kids past a mention of it’d be nice to be parents some day.
“if i get pregnant?” she says.
“yeah.”
“isn’t that fast?”
“not for me. is it fast for you?”
she shrugs. maybe it’s not so crazy. they have their future set. a child would be a nice addition. they haven’t talked about marriage, but she’s in no rush. they don’t have to be married to have a baby.
“if we both want it… i guess if it happens, it happens,” she mumbles. “but our lives would change really, really drastically.”
“i know,” rafe says comfortingly.
she continues to make herself food and he stares at her, imagining her with a baby bump and that bump turning into a little human who’s a mix of him and the person he loves most.
he knows she’d be a great mom. and he’s always wanted to be a dad. he’s always wanted to undo how his own father had raised him, making his only son have to struggle for his fleeting approval.
three months later, she misses her period. she doesn’t tell rafe. she picks up a pregnancy test. she doesn’t tell him that, either. when she sees the double lines on the test, she’s standing in the middle of their bathroom, her body trembling.
and she hates that she doesn’t feel excited. she’s scared. she thought she wanted this. she hoped for a positive. but this isn’t the feeling she thought she’d have.
she goes through the motions of ordering a custom newborn basketball jersey with cameron stitched on the back, having dreamed of telling rafe that they’re expecting that way.
a couple of days later, it comes in the mail. she has actually sort of liked keeping the secret while she waited because it meant she could pretend it wasn’t real yet.
she does what she thinks she should do. she puts the tiny shirt in a bag, sets up her phone to record, and calls him over to tell him something came for him. this is what a woman who’s excited to tell him would do, she tells herself.
at first, when rafe opens the bag, he doesn’t say anything. his jaw goes slack, he blinks a bunch of times, and then he pulls her in for a tight hug.
she’s already shaking, tears in her eyes, when she hears him sniffle. he pulls back. his hands are firm on her cheeks, gazing at her through glossy blue eyes.
“you’re happy?” she whispers.
“yeah,” he responds, saying it like it’s obvious. “we wanted this, right?”
rafe stills for a moment when he sees just how anguished she looks. she doesn’t seem happy at all.
“right?” he repeats.
“yeah,” she says, nodding and looking down. “i don’t know. it’s weird. maybe it’s the hormones already.”
“how long have you known? do you feel okay?”
“just a couple days,” she says. “i’m tired. a little nauseous. but he hasn’t made me throw up yet.”
“he?”
she meets her boyfriend’s eyes.
“i know it’s too soon to tell,” she says, “but i really hope it’s a boy. you’ll feel more connected to a boy.”
he can tell by the way she’s stuttering and crying that something’s wrong.
“baby,” he mumbles. “i’ll feel connected no matter what. it’s my kid.”
she shudders, nodding through her sobs.
“what’s up?” rafe says softly. “do you… are you regretting it?”
“no,” she replies, “but are you sure you want this?”
“yes. we talked about it,” he reminds her. “it’s not like this was an accident.”
“yeah,” she mumbles, looking down at her lap again.
rafe stares at her, slightly shaking his head in disbelief. she’s acting like this was unexpected. like she’s wishing they never started trying.
“what is it?” he says. “if you don’t want this, then just tell me.”
she curls up, slouching as she dips her head into her hands, the tears coming harder now.
“if it gets hard…” she whimpers, her voice muffled. “you can’t leave me to do it on my own. you can’t.”
he’s floored. they haven’t mentioned anything about the possibility of things not working out with them in ages. and back when they did, it was almost always rafe needing reassurance that she wasn’t planning on leaving him.
“i would never do that,” he says. “look at me.” his fingers wrap around her wrists, pulling her hands down from her face.
“where’s this coming from?” rafe mumbles. “did i do something?”
he thinks back to the past few days, trying to remember if he said something even in passing that would make her worry about him abandoning his girl and their baby.
the look in his eyes almost looks like betrayal. like he can’t believe she’s saying this.
she swallows hard, coming to terms with what’s been swimming in her head for days now. her father was absent. the only example she had of a dad was one who never really acted like he wanted a kid at all.
“i don’t know what it looks like,” she begins, “when a man actually wants to be a dad. maybe you’re excited now, but what if when it gets hard? when he’s crying or sick or keeping us awake?”
“we’ll deal with it,” he says. he pushes past his own ache to try to understand her.
his cups her hands in his, searching her face with concerned eyes. he remembers her opening up to him long ago about how she always wondered if her dad would have loved her more if she was a son instead of a daughter.
“when he or she is giving us hell, we’ll deal with it,” he says. “i love them already. there’s nothing that’ll change that.”
he puts a hand on her stomach, rubbing gently. she finally cracks a smile, softly laughing. his chest loses its tightness when he sees her look happy for the first time since he got home.
“i was reading that it’s the size of a pomegranate seed right now,” she says.
he smiles in awe, kissing her wet cheek.
“what’s next?” he asks. “what appointments do we make? what should you be eating?”
she laughs again. rafe has always been so intense, so focused on the next step.
“let me catch my breath first,” she teases. she looks over, just now remembering she filmed all this.
“my bad, baby,” he laughs. “breathe. this’ll be good, alright?”
“alright,” she says. and she believes it.
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pinkydevil16 · 2 months
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Aemond Targaryen x Reader
he’s like so so stuck in my head right now; and I’ve always loved the jealous and possessive aemond but i also love the jealous and possessive reader with it so they’re both just so in love and obsessed with each other that they tweak if anyone says or does anything mean to them….could you do something with that? lol sorry if it didn’t make a whole lot of sense! it doesn’t need to be smutty if you don’t want! i live for the plot and the romance 🤪
@m00n5t0n3
Aemond Targaryen x Targ! Reader
Y/n and Aemond had been married when he turned 16, Y/n only a year younger as they grinned speaking their vows. It wasn't the strongest decision for the family however Viserys wished to have more Targaryen's to continue the line. 
Y/n grinned as she dismounted from Vermithor, Vhagar and Aemond landed further down the beach as she pulled her glove off with her teeth. Aemond dismounting quickly and running towards her as she giggled, his arms wrapping around her waist as he twirled her, a grin splitting his face as he spun her around to face him.
"I love you." He whispered against her lips as he claimed them, Y/n smiling as she kissed him back, their minds only on each other as Vermithor blowed hot air on them making Y/n pull away and look at her dragon.
"I think they deserve an extra treat." Y/n turned to the keepers, nodding to them as they moved terrified towards the two massive dragons, the old dragons huffing and following their keepers. 
"We should go see Naerys and Baelon." Y/n kissed her husband once more before she linked his arm and the pair walked towards the castle.
"My babies." Y/n called as she entered the nursery, Naerys running towards her mother whilst Baelon crawled towards his father, Aemond picking him up and kissing his head as Naerys hugged Y/n's legs.
"Mummy! Can we go see the dragon?" Y/n shook her head with a laugh and pet her daughter's white hair, Aemond moving closer and kissing Y/n's head as she turned and kissed Baelon's cheeks.
"When you have your own you can spend hours down in the dragon pit with me and your father." Aemond smiled as he imagined it, his wife and children all riding on dragons. It was all he wanted.
Y/n swung her arms and back forth as she walked through Harrenhal, her black leather coat and armour clinking as she walked. She was beyond bored, her children were safely in the keep, under strict supervision from the guards. Ones who would follow her orders over Criston's since she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him. As she turned the corner she burned with anger, a lady with long black hair stood in front of Aemond, her hands on his chest as she pressed hers into his face. Her head tilted to expose her neck in a submissive way. Y/n quietened her footsteps as she approached, Aemond unaware of his wife as he rebuffed the lady's advances. Going to remove her hands with a scowl when nails gripped into the black hair and yanked her back.
"And what do you think you are doing?" Y/n seethed in her ear, eyes burning with fire as Aemond watched his wife almost break the lady's back with how far she yanked her back. Alys' hands clutched her hair as she cried out and looked at Y/n, the latter turning her head and raising an eyebrow.
"Answer my question before i slit your pretty little throat." Aemond smirked as he watched at Y/n, seeing the jealousy in her eyes as she snapped them towards him.
"I suggest you leave Husband." Her lasts words came out as a hiss which made Aemond scurry off in fear of his wife's wrath. Y/n looking back at Alys with an evil grin as she forced her to turn over, hand still in her hair as she held her head at hip height and began walking.
"I am going to show you why you do not touch my husband." 
Aemond sat in their chambers, twirling his daggers as he rest his feet up by the fire, his eyepatch long gone as the doors opened. Turning his head he watched Y/n walk towards the basin of water and begin washing blood from each finger, scrubbing under her nails without looking at him.
"Darling." Aemond began to say when Y/n raised a finger making him go quiet as he waited for her to finish washing her hands. As she dried them she finally turned to him, pushing her hair back before throwing the cloth on the floor.
"Pick it up." Aemond moved quickly and got on his knees to collect the cloth, handing it to her as he looked up at her. Her hand came to clutch his chin as she looked down at him.
"Who do you belong to?" Aemond smiled softly as he took her hand and kissed her palm, raising up as he kissed along her clothed arms until he reached her neck. Y/n tilting her head to the side allowing him to kiss towards her mouth.
"Yours my dear wife." Y/n grabbed his hair and pulled him into a kiss as she claimed his mouth, Aemond submitting to her as he relished in her possessive nature. Pulling away she grabbed his chin and stared at him.
"Mine." She spoke in high valyrian, Aemond moaning as he surged forward and kissed her. 
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luminoustarlight · 10 months
Text
As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Two
It's your first day of work at Skywalker Enterprises.
◂ chapter one ▸ chapter three
rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3
warnings: swearing, age-gaps, sexual fantasies
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The moms at St. Lucas Preparatory School are shameless. Single, divorced, and married women (and some men) alike can’t help but hold their breath when Anakin Skywalker steps onto campus. The dads are intimidated by him and the moms… well, let’s just say the moms have less than school appropriate thoughts about the billionaire. 
Anakin detests the end of the year. He hates being involved at the school. He doesn’t want to spend 2 hours of his day off packing meals in a crowded gymnasium with other parents who also don’t want to be there. 
He doesn’t want to make small talk or ask about Luke and Leia’s classmates because frankly, he doesn’t give a crap. The only children he likes are his own and he won’t pretend otherwise. 
“Mr. Skywalker,” Leia’s teacher, Ms. Clark sighs, “you are the only parent in my class who has yet to sign up for a slot at this year's Cranberry Sauce.” Cranberry Sauce is just the name the school gives the Thanksgiving Drive to make it sound more “fun”. 
Anakin gives his children a kiss on their foreheads and sends them through the school gates. Once they’re out of earshot, he addresses Leia’s teacher. “I already wrote a check to buy the damn food. Isn’t that sufficient?” 
“Mr. Skywalker,” Ms. Clark repeats with annoyance. If it were up to her, she’d let Anakin donate all of the money he wants in order to keep him from volunteering at school events. She thinks he’s arrogant, stuck-up, and far too handsome for any man to be. So she decides to loathe him since she can’t fuck him. But Headmaster Franklin is adamant Anakin attends the event. 
“I really insist that you participate for at least an hour at Cranberry Sauce next weekend. It is important for your children to see you involved at the school. At their school.” 
Anakin’s tall and broad stature seems to grow even larger at this statement. How dare this woman insinuate anything about him as a father? 
“You think I’m not involved in my childrens’ lives?” Anakin has just enough self-control not to completely raise his voice at his daughter’s fourth grade teacher. Especially since parents are continuing to drop off their kids. “You think I’m an absent father who gives the school money to compensate for my lack of paternal instincts?” 
“I didn’t say that,” Ms. Clark answers cautiously. “There is no need to make a scene. I have no doubts you are an excellent father, Mr. Skywalker. I don’t think Leia would be the young lady she is if you weren’t. One hour. That's all we ask.” 
Anakin raises an eyebrow. “We?” 
“Oh, um, well-” Ms. Clark stammers. Busted. She sighs with defeat. “Headmaster Franklin would very much like to see you there.”
“I’m sure he would,” Anakin replies smugly. Headmaster Franklin wants him there for publicity. Anakin should be more pissed about that than being accused of not being a present parent, but he’s not. He likes his ego stroked every now and then. “One hour.” 
“Thank you,” Ms. Clark smiles tightly. “Does 10-11 work for you?” 
“Fine,” Anakin waves his hand dismissively as he gets a message on his phone. 
Ben Kenobi 
Your new secretary is here. 
Shit. It’s Anakin’s first day without Dorothy. No wonder the morning has gone the way it has. Between Luke spilling orange juice on his shirt, Leia’s uncooperating French braids, and his conversation with Ms. Clark, Anakin can’t help but fear the change in routine with a new assistant. He types his response. 
Anakin Skywalker
Assistant. Not secretary. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. 
Ben Kenobi 
If you say so. 
Ben Kenobi is Anakin’s closest friend. Some might even call them brothers. Ben is fifteen years older than Anakin, married to the mayor, and enjoys fly fishing on the weekends. He’s also Luke and Leia’s godfather. Should anything happen to Anakin, there is no one else he’d trust to raise and watch over his children than Ben Kenobi. 
And Ben knows better than anyone that Anakin doesn’t like change. He’s been dreading Dorothy’s last day since she told him she was retiring a year ago. How was he going to find someone as good as her? Someone who anticipates his needs before he does? 
That’s why he tasked her with finding her own replacement. He’s just too busy to interview a replacement for Dorothy himself. He wouldn’t know what to look for, anyway. If he doesn’t know what he wants in a woman to date, how is he supposed to know what he wants in a new assistant? 
.
.
“Mr. Skywalker is not in at the moment. Can I take a message?” You’ve uttered that exact sentence at least seven times since you arrived at the office at 8:00 a.m. Now, as it nears 9:00, you expect to see your new boss very soon. 
Each time you hear the elevator ding, you look up with hopefulness at the arrival of the esteemed Anakin Skywalker. What will you say to him? How will you introduce yourself? Will he be nice and welcoming? God, you hope so. You’ve read just about every article, watched every interview, and listened to every podcast he’s done to prepare yourself for the job. The consensus is the same in all of them. 
Anakin Skywalker is generous, he’s polite, and generally gets along with everyone— if you don’t get on his nerves. And, according to Dorothy, he’s a charmer. 
“Yes, absolutely,” you say while taking notes of the message on a legal pad. Your head is down so you don’t notice Anakin walking out of the elevator. He stops 5 steps away from your desk. His ribs feel like they’re collapsing around his lungs because of that voice. Why does he know that voice? 
“I will let Mr. Skywalker know you called as soon as he gets into the office.” You hang up the phone and as you look up, there he is in all of his gorgeous glory. 
You actually have to tell yourself to take a breath because he’s even more handsome in person. Faint lines around his eyes represent years of life he lived before you were born. His dark blonde hair is combed back effortlessly and is it wrong that you want to run your hands through it? Yeah, probably. He’s your boss and over twenty years older than you. 
“It’s-” Anakin can’t even say more than that because holy fuck. Is he dreaming? He squeezes his eyes and then opens them, only to see you now standing with your hand extended to him. “It’s… you.” 
“Um, yes,” you say while awkwardly returning your arm to your side. “I’m Y/N. Your new assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Skywalker.” 
“I- um, yes,” Anakin clears his throat. Christ, that wasn’t even a sentence. “I need to take care of something,” he says on his way towards his office. “I am not to be disturbed until I come out. Do you understand?” 
“Y-yes. Yes, sir,” you barely answer before Anakin’s office door is shut violently. Well, that certainly wasn’t the introduction you were expecting or hoping for. You’re starting to think not meeting him beforehand was a bad idea. It honestly should’ve been a red flag but Dorothy insisted it was fine. 
It doesn’t seem fine. 
And things definitely aren’t fine. For Anakin, that is. To say he’s freaking out is putting it lightly. He paces the length of his office, shoving his fingers through his hair and muttering to himself. “It can’t be. There’s no way it can be her.” 
Maybe he’s hallucinating. Maybe he’s having an incredibly vivid dream where his favorite OnlyFans performer, who he has known as HoneySuckle for the last three years is his new assistant. What did you say your name is? Anakin couldn’t hear you over the erection that was forming in his pants because he knows your voice. He’s cum from your voice alone. He’s cum because of you so, so many times. 
This can’t be happening. 
He’s never seen your entire face but he knows it’s you. He’d recognize your lips in a police lineup. He hears your voice in his wet dreams. He just knows it’s you. 
And the fact that he has a hard-on is a problem. A problem he wishes you could take care of but you can’t because now you work for him and he’s your boss. This is all so, so wrong. 
Anakin doesn’t so much sit on his leather chair as he does collapse into it. This was never supposed to happen. Yes, he has dreamed about meeting you on more than one occasion. He’s thought about telling you who he is during your countless direct messages so many times. He’s thought about using his infinite resources to find out who you really are on more than one occasion.
But he always concluded that it would be so insanely wrong and borderline creepy if he did that. You were always supposed to remain a fantasy. Just a nameless woman on a screen who doesn’t live in the same country, state, or city as him. 
Yet here you are— sitting outside of his office, taking his calls, calling him Mr. Skywalker and being even more beautiful than he could have imagined. 
You are no longer the woman on his tablet spewing filthy words as you make yourself orgasm. You’re tangible. You have a name- although he can’t remember what it is. He replays the interaction over in his head. The feeling he felt when he saw you was reminiscent of seeing his wife walk down the aisle at their wedding. He was a blundering mess then, just as he is a blundering mess now. 
He doesn’t even want to think about your first impression of him. He’s supposed to be Anakin Skywalker for crying out loud! The suave, handsome millionaire who has the ability to make men cower and women fall to their knees. The embarrassment he feels from that interaction is enough to subdue his hard-on. He pours himself a bit of Bourbon, shoots it back like it’s a normal thing to do at 9 in the morning, and prepares to reintroduce himself to you. 
Anakin smooths his hands down his slacks before opening his door. As his eyes are magnetized to you, his heart starts beating irregularly. Get a fucking grip. 
You stand attentively when you notice Anakin walking towards you. Worried you made a terrible impression on him, you wait to speak. But Anakin doesn’t say anything either and now he’s standing in front of your desk, all tall and lean and smelling like Cedar and Whiskey. He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read. Did Dorothy tell him anything about you? Or did he go into this just as blind as you did? 
His eyes seem to dance all over your body which makes you feel like he’s studying you. Or criticizing every single thing about your appearance. From your simple burgundy dress to the pearl studs you bought with some of Skyguy81’s most recent (and overly generous) tip. 
Finally, because his gaze on you was becoming too much to bear, you are the one to talk first. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Skywalker?” 
Yeah, you can remind him of your name for starters. “Do you have messages for me?” is what he asks instead. 
“Yes,” you answer, picking up the pad you’ve been scribbling notes on for the last hour. “Rex sent over the final schematics for the 0525 project that needs your approval by 3 p.m. today in order to begin production. Mayor Kryze’s office called about the upcoming Gala in December and wanted to know if you would be in attendance. And if so, how many tickets should they reserve? Oh, and someone from St. Lucas Preparatory School called to let you know that your son ripped his pants and needs a new pair brought to school because they don’t have any new pants in his size.” 
Anakin taps his index finger on your desk while he listens to you. He barely registers anything you say because it’s really hard to hear your voice without getting aroused. It’s hard even looking at you without automatically picturing you naked. There’s not an inch of your skin he’s never seen. Well, except for the top half of your face which now, of course, he has seen. And God, does he love what you have to offer. 
You’re still relaying messages but suddenly you’re bent over your desk, gripping the edge of it with pale knuckles as Anakin slams into you over, and over, and over. He’s making you yelp his name so loudly the whole building can hear you. 
“Mr. Skywalker?” 
Anakin snaps back into reality where you’re still fully clothed and definitely not moaning his name. “What?” comes out a little harsher than he intended. And he immediately regrets it when he sees you visibly shrink right before him. 
“What- what would you like me to tell the Mayor’s office?” 
Anakin has gone as a bachelor to the last two Christmas Galas. Ben stays close to Satine the whole night and he really doesn’t see the point in asking a woman he has no interest in to be his date. Plus, going alone lets him leave the party with whomever he wants or to call it a night and go home early to watch ELF and drink peppermint cocoa with his kids. 
“Have them put me down for 2.” 
You nod whilst making another note on the pad. “And what about your son’s pants?” 
“Did they say where he ripped them?” 
“Right down the middle,” you answer. 
Anakin shakes his head. “Oh, Luke,” he mutters to himself. “Alright, I’ll go home and get him a new pair.” 
“Icandoit,” rushes out of your mouth. 
“What?” 
“Sorry, my mouth moved faster than my brain,” you reply, hoping Anakin will find it endearing instead of annoying. “I said I can do it. I don’t mind. It’s my job, isn’t it?” 
Anakin opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Yes, technically it’s your job to do this sort of errand. But Anakin doesn’t want you going to his house alone, sifting through his son’s drawers, and bringing him new pants to his school. 
Primarily because he’d much rather you be in his home under different circumstances. 
“We’ll go together,” Anakin decides against his better judgment. “I’ll drive.”
.
.
.
So, Anakin definitely didn’t think things through when he said he’d drive. 
In what world did he think sharing a close, confined space with you was a good idea? This whole morning has been a cluster-fuck. Honestly. He’s still struggling to wrap his head around who you are. When you announced Squirting for Sky was going to be your last video, he thought what a devastation it would be to not look forward to your videos every week. Who would’ve thought you’d be the one replacing his dear old assistant the very next week? The odds of it all are overwhelming. 
But isn’t this what he’s always wanted? The opportunity to meet you? To know your name and know you personally? Every wish of his has been granted— except for the fact that he is your boss and you are technically his subordinate. He says technically because Dorothy always felt more like family than an employee. 
You could be family. 
You could be so much more than his assistant.
Oh, Jesus Christ, Anakin. Be reasonable. She’s your employee. She’s practically a kid. 
Anakin looks over to you for the first time since getting in the car. You’re pressed against the side of the passenger door, knees angled away from him and arms crossed over your chest. “Are you cold?” 
“Oh,” you say, looking at him with a tentative smile. “A little.” 
“You should’ve said so,” Anakin turns on the heater and your seat warmer. “My kids call seat warmers butt toasters. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty.” 
You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. 
There’s an awkward pause as Anakin realizes what he just said. He absolutely cannot think about your butt any longer than he has to because we all know how that will end.
 (A hard cock, in case that wasn’t clear). 
 “I mean, uh- shit,” Anakin briefly closes his eyes to compose himself. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty? 
“Just turn it off yourself if you get too warm.” 
Do you make him nervous? No way. You decide to let it go. “Kids? Plural?” 
“Yeah.” Anakin drapes his right arm over the center console and taps his fingers against the gear shift. Long, dexterous fingers at that. You have to look away before you start thinking about something completely inappropriate of your boss. “I have twins. A boy and a girl. Luke, he’s the silly one. Right now he’s big into archeology. He’s also pretty clumsy, hence the rip in his pants. And Leia, my daughter, she’s far too serious for any 9 year old to be. She says she wants to be a senator when she grows up.” 
This is the longest you’ve been able to look at Anakin without feeling your cheeks burning. Now, they’re just hot because of the heater blasting in your face. “You light up when you talk about them,” you say. “You must love them a lot.” 
“More than anything,” Anakin doesn’t hesitate. “Here we are.” 
You should’ve been paying attention on how to get to his house from the office. Surely, you’ll be running these errands on your own if things go well with your employment. Oh, well. That’s what the Maps is for. 
Anakin’s house is a stunning Eichler. It looks straight out of an Architectural Digest cover. The lawn outside is perfectly cropped and perfectly green but littered with a soccer ball, football, a baseball bat and whiffle balls. You wouldn’t have pegged Anakin for a mid-century modern kind of guy. You would’ve thought he’d opt for an insanely modern, sterile house. 
As you walk through the atrium and into the main body of the house, it’s clear it is a family home. Anakin uses his foot to sweep his kids’ shoes out of the way so you don’t trip over them. “Sorry about the mess.” 
“It’s okay,” you shrug. Anakin’s house isn’t even all that messy. It just looks like a home. There are so many pictures on the walls, it would be impossible to look at all of them in one go. One in particular, though, catches your eye. It’s the largest out of all of them and the only one in black and white. A significantly younger Anakin is at the bedside of who you presume to be his wife with two bundles of babies in their arms. They are both looking down and smiling. His wife was stunning. They definitely made an attractive couple. 
It’s not lost on you that there are no other pictures of Anakin’s kids with their mom. He’s only spoken about his wife’s death in one interview, about a year after her passing. If you remember correctly, she died shortly after the twins were born. 
You can’t imagine the kind of pain and heartache Anakin must have felt losing his wife. You don’t know what it feels like to experience that kind of grief. You want to tell Anakin you’re sorry for his loss, but what good will that do? Is there any consolation in that at all? 
You’re still looking at the photo when Anakin returns from Luke’s room with a new pair of tan pants. You can feel his presence right beside you and the silence is louder than words. 
He shouldn’t have brought you back here. It’s only your first day and you’ve already seen too much of his life. 
“Let’s go,” Anakin orders. You nod without a word and follow him out to the car. 
The tension in the air is palpable on your way to St. Lucas Prep. You feel like you’ve done something wrong by simply stepping foot in Anakin’s house. His whole demeanor shifted when he came back to the front room with Luke’s pants. Does he regret bringing you to the house? If so, why? Dorothy clearly laid out your responsibilities to you. Tending to personal matters at Anakin’s house is part of the job. You are not just a professional assistant, but a personal assistant, too.
You can’t stand not knowing why someone is upset with you. “Did I do something wrong?” 
Anakin’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “No.” 
Wow, how reassuring. “Okay, then why do I feel like I did something to upset you?” 
You’re really pressing your limit with him right now. You’ve only just met 2 hours ago. See, this is why meeting him should’ve been part of the hiring process. You’d be a lot more acquainted with each other than you are right now. 
If only you knew how acquainted Anakin is with you… 
“You didn’t,” is all he says. But with a twitch of his jaw, you still feel like he’s not telling you the truth. 
“Look, Mr. Skywalker,” you begin. “I understand Dorothy meant a great deal to you, and her leaving is going to be an adjustment. But I promise you I am capable of this job. I’m never late, I’m up late all the time so if there was anything you needed, I’d be able to fulfill it. I love kids, I’m a hard worker and I would really appreciate it if you gave me a chance before making any decisions about me.” 
“You’re right,” Anakin says. “I’ll give you a chance.”  But he’s already made up his mind. He doesn’t have to ‘give you a chance’ to know that he wants you. He is crawling out of his skin with how badly he wants you. And he knows it’s wrong, probably immoral, but he really doesn’t care. Because now that you’ve been inside of his home, the boundary that should exist between him as your boss and you as his employee feels impossibly blurry.
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◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter three
538 notes · View notes
rise-my-angel · 10 months
Text
NSFW Alphabets
Jon Snow and Robb Stark
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Pairings: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader
Length: 17.5k
Warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, discussions of various kinks, mentions of past sexual assault and trauma, talk of pregnancy, hard dom/soft dom/sub dynamics explored, bdsm related content
Notes: The dynamics are based off of pairings from my series Heart of the Great Wolf, but can be read on it's own for the most part. Broad strokes for it being read without my fic series context: the relationship timeline was the reader secretly seeing Jon pre start of show/books, then married to Robb in an arranged marriage during the Kings visit to Winterfell, and then back with Jon post his resurrection hence why his sections are split into two parts. Might contain some spoilers for part 3 and a bit of part 4, for my fic in some places.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
You two had never gotten far that normal aftercare was ever needed. Jon might be teasing, but he was gentle and slow, and that went right through start to finish.
Sometimes, all you had was the alone silence of the middle of the night, and whatever you two had tentatively done with one another always ended with a struggle to let the other go. Jon simply didn't have time or the freedom to take care of you after making you cum. Even when it was something more simple, kissing the other on his bed, his back against the wall and you perched in his lap, as the closest you got as a grind against his covered cock. Jon would kiss you gentle once on the lips another to your forehead as he held you tight until he was sure you were alright to be on your own.
The last thing he wanted was to send you off to your own chambers, feeling as if Jon had just mindlessly kicked you out.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
There is very little Jon takes more seriously then caring for you after sex. He knows exactly what he is, intense and overwhelming, and he knows he is rougher with you then he sometimes realizes in the moment.
As soon as you both settle from your peaks, Jon will pull you quick into his arms. Some nights he will keep you on his lap, tucking your face into his neck as he runs a hand over your hair and the other gentle along your back and waist, until he feels your breathing return to normal. Or Jon moves to lay you out, normally somewhat on your side so he can turn to face you, tucking you into his chest. His own face buries in your hair as his voice is low and rasping, soothing words to you of comfort. Praises of how well you did as he tries to convince himself to be gentle if he kisses you.
Jon will always ensure you feel safe, and loved before anything else, and he will keep running his hands gently on your skin and murmur comforts in your ear until he feels you fall asleep. Even then, he normally continues to stay awake, watching you until he finally feels his eyes beg for sleep of his own. The rougher he takes you, the more gentle and soothing Jons touch and words are after as he coaxes you back for him.
Robb Stark:
Robb is fully aware of how hard he goes with you. You have minimal experience outside of him, and he brought you into this sort of thing with rough thrusts and a dominating nature. But it also means he knows how much he needs to make up for that when it's all over.
He will check up on you, ask if he went too far or if you didn't enjoy something and the next time he pays close attention to how far you've dropped and when. Which with him, is often. But Robb switches when it's all over, and the second he looks at you, all he sees is the love of his life and he wants to bring you calmly back to him. He'll hold you, speak soothingly to you with tender touches along your skin and many times he tries to get you to talk. The more you talk, the more clear your head is, and if he can make you laugh then Robb knows you're alright.
Much of the time, you often end up falling asleep together in the same position your aftercare was spent. Robb usually on his back, his arms wrapped around you as he tucks you into his side and your head drapes comfortingly on his chest. For all his talk, Robb loves nothing more then to just lay in bed and cuddle with you when you're done, and he adores that you are just as needy for a loving touch.
If anything, aftercare that Robb needs from you, is to just let him hold you and keep you tucked into his arms as much as you need his touch to calm you down as well.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
If you were to ask Robb, his brother would joke that it's his hair he likes best about himself. But in truth, Jon never really thought much of it in that way. Of himself. He looked how he looked, and he didn't really care about much of it.
Robb was more handsome and Jon didn't really care what girls thought of how he looked because as long as you liked how he looked, that's all that mattered.
On you? Jon had two answers, if it were blatantly sexual Jon would say your breasts. Soft, seemed to be made to fit perfectly in his hands and you were sensitive as all hell, that simple touches could work you up in an instant.
Not sexually though, it would be your smile. Not just any, but that soft, gentle one you'd give him when no one else was looking, beacuse you just wanted him to know you were paying attention to him no matter what. You were so stone faced all the time, but whenever you'd give Jon that smile? It could make the worst of his days better in an instant.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Easily that would be his hands. He did much with them and despite the amount of which was death and bloodshed, Jon knew he never did it beacuse he liked it. Jons hands were to him, a reminder of the man he had become, someone who at their core, was a protector. Of you, of the innocent, fighting for what was right when no one else would make the sacrifice.
But they also were the same hands that calmed you down. Your worst moments, trapped still somewhere in a hell of Ramsay Boltons making, they were the same hands that would cup your cheeks, run along your soft skin until you looked at him with those eyes.
Eyes that were something he could never get enough of. Soft and wide, you held so much more emotion in them now then you ever did before, and Jon adored it. You almost couldn't hide from Jon as long as he could find your eyes, and read whatever was in your head in seconds. They were beautiful to him, and they were the same eyes he kept dreaming that your children together would have, and that made them the thing he adored the most.
That, and Jon knew he had a tendency to make you look him right in the eyes when he was inside you, and he was weak to how needing they always looked when you did.
Robb Stark:
Robb easily loves his hands. How since you've been married, since you escaped Kings Landing and came back to him, all hes wanted to do is use those same hands to protect you. It's easy to tell, Robb almost always has a hand on you if he's near and it's heavily rooted in how he knows your safe and he can protect you, if he feels you right beside him.
He also knows how much of a mess he makes of you with them in so many ways. Those hand go quickly from innocent and protective all the way to perverse in seconds. And he knows exactly where to put them to make you melt to him.
On you, his favourite more innocent part of your body is your hips. They're perfect to him, shaped just right to the way he can so easily imagine you with his child right in your arms, a son perched near your hip as even then, you still speak to his lords and knights with command. He has a hand on them a lot, likes to move you with hands on your hips, they're just soft and perfect for him.
More on the filthy side, Robb fully can admit he is utterly obsessed with your ass. He knows it, you know it, there's no question. He wants you in pants all the time just beacuse of how well they shape your ass, the harder he smacks them the more he watches your cheeks jiggle and he gets worked up aggressively when he can see the red outline of his hand print after he's slapped and groped your ass as much as he can get away with.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Call it insecurity, but Jon almost didn't want his end to be part of the equation with you. If he could make love to you and not have to worry about that, he'd have been ready a long time ago.
To him, sure it felt good, but when he was with you he was always plagued in the back of his mind. Getting you pregnant was truthfully his biggest fear, and so he spent a lot of time learning what felt best for you when he touched you, and not wanting to let you do much back. Jon loved learning what made you cum, but he was almost strict in not really letting you reciprocate. He liked making you feel good, and he didn't ever want to risk ruining your life by getting you pregnant, and he certainly refused to force his own child to be born a bastard.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon knew as soon as he slid inside you for the first time, it was different. Not a shred of that insecurity was in his mind anymore.
He fucked you against the wall that night steady and slow, and there was not a shred of doubt in his mind that he wanted to cum as deep as he could. Pressing you tight against the wall and sinking as far as you could take him, all Jon wanted to do after, was do it again. And again. He dreamed about it, he craved it, he loved cumming inside you and he didn't have the sensibility or willpower anymore to stop himself.
He was quick all on his own to have everything to brew you moontea, he wasn't about to get reckless. Until you were both in the right place together, Jon would make sure part of taking care of you after was to make you some as you rested. Easing whatever parts of both your minds would worry if you became pregnant before either of you were ready.
But really, Jon wanted only to spill inside you, and when you couldn't take anymore then he'd paint your beautiful skin with whatever he still had left.
Robb Stark:
There are only two places Robb wants to cum, down your throat or inside your cunt. If some gets elsewhere then you look like a dream painted with his seed, but if he isn't cumming inside you, he wants it down your throat.
He would watch you swallow his seed and the man could almost orgasm again just from that sight and feeling. The knowledge that even just your stomach is filled with him, as much as he fills you with his cock, makes him lose his mind. And you swallow him so happily too, as if you love the taste of him and he suspects you are too embarrassed to admit you do.
But he also loves cumming inside you. At his core, Robb is a man dedicated to family, it means everything to him. And he wants every and any chance to start one with you, so he always wants to cum deep inside you as many times in a night as he an get away with. The more he does, the sooner likely you may find yourself pregnant.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
It's not dirty, nor is it much of a secret really, but Jon sometimes wondered if you truly understood just how long he's been in love with you.
He knew Lord Stannis Baratheon's daughter was coming to serve as his fathers ward, but he didn't think much of it until the day you arrived. He and Robb were 10 and had been in the training yard. But his memory was so striking and vivid when his father had come by with this small 8 year old girl with scared eyes looking everywhere with uncertainty.
Robb was swinging a practice sword at him, and almost accidentally smacked him in the head, beacuse Jon had stopped paying attention since he was staring so much. When he realized who you were, he almost wanted to throw up at realizing he was going to have to spend months in the same home as you, beacuse he thought you were the prettiest thing he's ever seen.
When you had been introduced to Robb, you looked at him after and asked what his name was. He was nervous telling you he was a Snow, but as soon as you asked simply if he was the other son of Lord Stark which your father mentioned, he realized you had barrelled right past the fact that he was a bastard and just lumped him in the same place as Robb.
Jon hadn't ever said it, but he was pretty sure he fell in love with you then, and it never stopped for even a second after.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon sort of has two secrets. One is more blatantly filthy, one is a little more serious. The serious one is something you think is only a joke.
He had told you once, that he had previously wondered when he was thinking of taking the black, if he should just take you far north instead. Leave, and build you a nice, warm home there where you could just be together. But in those dreams, Jon genuinely wanted children. He could see at least five, in that memory. Four little ones running around, and you swollen with his fifth child, beacuse who you two were didn't have to matter.
It was a sensitive subject for you now, and he would never even consider pushing before you were ready. But by present day when he would joke that his dream was up to ten children, Jon didn't know how to tell you that he wasn't really kidding. He never thought he would have a family, and now that he could with you, he wanted as many as you both could possibly have.
His second was blatantly filthy. Jon loved your breasts, perfect size for his rough hands and they were so sensitive. But Jon heard something from one of the free folk once, and now he held this dirty image of marking them up. Bruises and indents from his mouth and teeth until they turned colour, marking them right up until they were so sensitive you could tear up.
Then he wanted you to lay out on his bed, and he'd climb up over you and fuck them. Slide his cock in the space between your breasts and fuck them like he was inside you.
Then, just to finish the image, right when he was about to cum he'd pull back enough to make sure he coated both of your breasts in his seed, before grasping you again roughly to spread himself all over them.
Not in any life would Jon want to ask you for that, but it didn't stop him from thinking about everytime his teeth ran over the small buds on your breasts.
Robb Stark:
Robb has done it in small doses, tying up your wrists behind you, but Robb dreams of you letting him go a little more feral with it.
He wants you tied up all the way, at nothing but his mercy, can't move on your own, tie your pretty legs to the bed posts to keep you spread and your hands together up above your head. He'd blindfold you, too.
He wants to be so in control of everything that happens to your body in that scenario, without you even being allowed to see what he does, he wants you to trust him to such a degree you give up all your control left.
He won't ask you for that, he knows he'd be asking for something that's too extreme, so he does it in small doses. Makes you keep your eyes closed, ties only your wrists, only drags a small blade down a shift to expose your breasts when really if he could, Robb would do so much more. Maybe keep you standing in the middle of his bedroom, hang your arms up above your head with rope and cut off all your clothes like they're nothing to him. He has no idea where this desire has come from, but gods does he ever come up with new and inventive ways to ease you into every bit of it.
Maybe one day, you'll let him be enough of a animal, to just let him treat you like a pretty little slab of meat he can do whatever he wants with. Just once.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Not a shred of experience to be found. But Jon wasn't embarrassed about it.
He didn't care what others said about him, they didn't know Jon had you. Jon had been in love with you since he was 10, he never wanted any other girl that entire time, and he couldn't convince himself to look at one long enough to even try for a kiss. You and Jon were each others firsts. He was 18 by the time he kissed you that night in the wolfswood, and he was so happy he saved it for you.
After that, he dreamed of learning what you both liked together, and he enjoyed discovering all of it. You never went that far together, you both enjoyed taking it slow, but it was always at the exact same speed as the other.
So he'd let Theon make his jokes about him not being with a girl, Jon and you would get there when you both were ready.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon knew his approach to physical intimacy with you was different now, but he didn't like thinking about why.
On one hand, he knew you had much more natural experience. You married Robb, he took your maidenhood, and he taught you everything you had learned of sex in the three and a half years you shared. But then you were the Boltons captive, and every single bit of confidence, every part of you that was growing comfortable with sex was destroyed, taken away from you by force at the hands of Ramsay. And in a horrible way, whatever confidence Jon had spent 6 years building with you, was taken away from him too.
Calling his time with Ygritte “experience” made him feel unwell. It wasn't that. It was survival. Jon knew in his time travelling with her, he had tricked himself into thinking it was normal. Pretended it was normal to never want it, pretended it was normal to actively feel such deep self hatred if his body even remotely enjoyed the physical sensations alone, pretended it was normal to actively find ways to avoid letting her near him if he could. He didn't want any of what Ygritte took from him, but that was all the experience in terms of sex that Jon had.
It was why he pushed so hard to do certain things, like putting his mouth between your legs, with you as often as he did. If he consumed his mind with doing it with you, it negated the force in which made him learn about it in the first place. It wasn't easy, and he still knew he was avoiding talking about the worst of it with you, but Ramsay had hurt you more then Ygritte forced him, and so Jon preferred to focus on taking care of your safety.
Robb Stark:
If he were to summarize it in simple terms, Robb would say girls liked him more then he liked the girls. He wasn't stupid, he understood it. Robb knew he was handsome. He was the eldest son of Lord Eddard Stark, and he was also the heir to Winterfell. Robb knew he had a charm to his attitude that swooped in the easy giggles from girls.
But Robb more enjoyed that in a playful manner then he did serious. Sure he had sex with some of them, a few of them more then once but he never really had feelings for them beyond surface level affection. Never enough that his father or mother even would've really met any of them except in coincidental passing. Hell, compared to Theon the two men used to joke, Robb may as well have the experience equal to that of a septa.
By the time he married you, he hadn't been with a girl physically in years, and even if he did, all it meant was he knew how a girls body worked a little better then most guys. He knew your body better then you did before he ever touched you though, considering how overwhelmed he made you on your wedding night.
You were always so innocent compared to him, that he knew it made you feel as if he had hundreds of girls before you. But in truth it had only been a handful. And more importantly, he had never been anywhere near in love before he married you, and so you were the only experience he cared about.
He didn't fuck you on your wedding night like he did other girls, he fucked you in a way he had carefully planned out that you would enjoy. His experience just meant that he went in with more confidence then not on your wedding night.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
You two had never gotten that far, so he never really had a reason to think about what he preferred.
Jon did enjoy standing behind you when you two were alone, his hands gently trailing along your skin or under the collar of your dress. His hands rough and pulling gasps that you would bit your lip to prevent when he would twist and pull at the small pink buds of your breasts. Jon would always press his lips lightly to your neck, beacuse he loved how you would instinctual lean back into him. Rely on Jons firm stature to keep you standing on two feet as he eased you into his touch.
Maybe he was biased too, but if he were touching you more intimately, he liked having you sit on a surface as he stood between your legs. It was the way you two were positioned when he touched you for the first time out in the wolfswood, and he treasured that day a lot. He loved cupping your cheeks when standing before you like that, knowing as soon as he'd let one hand drift down your arm, you'd almost tense up in wonder if you'd feel his hand jump to pull the skirt of your dress up. Or if he'd simply wrap it around your waist to pull you more into his kiss innocently.
It wasn't a position of sex he liked about it, he just knew you associated it with the same afternoon he did, and Jon loved to tease you with his touch so you could only wait and see if he'd once more grace you with the experience again.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
There was no question Jon didn't just prefer missionary, he adored it.
Not a single other way he's taken you has Jon liked more or even anywhere near close to when he simply hovers over you with your legs gently spread for his body. One large hand hoisting your thigh up onto his hip while he felt your other leg move to almost wrap partially around one of his legs as if needing him to keep you steady flat out on the bed.
He loved taking you when you were nice and comfortable, spread out on his bed or on the furs in front of the fire in his chambers. He'd hover over you and be able to see every inch of you, move your legs either apart or over his shoulders when his mouth watered at the thought of tasting you. He could kiss you anywhere that way, and hold you down, as his strength meant he could keep you there as he kissed his way down to your cunt. And it also meant he could follow that path right back up and force you to taste yourself on his tongue while his other hand moved to sink his cock deep inside you. All the while, Jon could watch you and your eyes perfectly and you never had to do the work if he held you there. Just the way Jon wanted it.
Jon loved being able to control the pace he would fuck you at, ensure you were nothing but in deep pleasure. He could reach his hands up, interlock his fingers with yours and press them into the sheets. He could watch your face twist in pleasure, and your hands would tighten around his own fingers too, the closer you got. Or he'd let them go free, and you'd unknowingly claw your nails down his back as you arched into him as you came. He could bury his face in your neck or hair and the position meant he could go as fast or gentle as he wanted.
There was not a single thing which would beat how much he could focus on you when Jon took you in simple missionary.
Robb Stark:
He loves taking you from behind, and there is no way Robb could deny it. Nor would be bother to. He was a gods forsaken wolf about it.
The second time he ever fucked you, he had been apart from you for months. Now back, you were both going to war, you had just escaped Kings Landing and hadn't been with him since your wedding night. But he had spent so much of that time, letting his mind drift to you during his days, that finally seeing you again he almost jumped into it as if you'd been with him all that time. Theon had once commented that he could've mistaken you two for being married for decades, the way Robb would bring you up more then he ever had in the eleven years the men knew one another.
But then he had you back, in his bed as you raked your small hands through his curls that so gently woke him up, and more importantly, woke his cock up. He flipped you over, and as soon as you were on your hands and knees he yanked your hips so you basically were only lifted off the bed only by your ass, so he could fuck you from behind. The way in which you so willingly submitted to him in that position, how Robb could pound into you like that as fast and rough as he freely wanted, and all you could do was cry his name and take it.
You soaked his cock like none other when he had you on your hands and knees, and sometimes he'd shove a hand in your hair and hold your face down to the pillow and all you'd do was clench tightly around his cock.
He knew he was acting nothing of a gentleman, and his mother would be utterly ashamed that Robb would take his wife like a complete brute. But when you were bent over in front of his cock, giving yourself over to his mercy or lack thereof and would beg for more even when he was rough about it? It made him lose his mind.
Besides, Robb was quite blatantly obsessed with your ass and from that position, he could smack and grope it all he liked. But when you really lost yourself to his cock? Your own hips bouncing back on him the whole time he fucked into you? Well it would just make him run his mouth even filthier towards you for it.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc.)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Goofy was not a word anyone had ever used to describe Jon Snow.
He was brooding, intense, he felt things very raw and that extended to you entirely. Jon would tease or smirk at the start when he'd kiss you, but the second it got a little more serious he dropped the act. He took your pleasure seriously, your mood seriously, and he didn't want his time with you to turn into a laugh when it was such limited time in the first place to have with you.
He loved to hear you laugh, don't get him wrong, but his physical time with you was limited, and it just wasn't the place he wanted to do that.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
If Jon was not a humorous man before, he was even less so now.
Both in life and sex, but it was more obvious when he was with you physically. Jon didn't even smile when he fucked you, not beacuse he didn't like it, or love you, but he felt nothing to be amused by. Sex was very serious to him, your safety and your well being couldn't be watched if Jon was goofing around or making you laugh.
He dedicated every ounce of focus to taking care of you, and he didn't like humour being involved there. Your safety was not funny to Jon. Sex with him was never goofy. It was intense, raw, and overwhelming for both of you. He had time to make you laugh later, that's what his words of teasing were for.
Not for the bedroom, though. Not now, not ever.
Robb Stark:
Robb would chuckle dark in what he know was a bit of a sadistic tendency towards you.
Would chuckle as you were a crying mess for him, or sometimes he would laugh at how you sounded begging for him, or gasping out that you love him. It meant you had him comfortable enough to drop the dominance enough to show the cracks of the mischievous boy underneath the rough man.
Even better was if he could make you laugh after sex, that was even better then during. He loved hearing you laugh, it was a gorgeous sound so many men would never hear in their lives. Robb loved that he was trusted enough with you, that you would let him hear you giggle like a little girl in the most venerable of moments of intimacy. He loved seeing you relaxed enough to feel that amused at anything.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)
Jon Snow:
If there was a place in Westeros which that kind of personal grooming for men was common, the North wasn't it.
He didn't let it get out of control, but it wasn't as if smooth, clean cut men were the norm here, and Jon was not that anyways. His hair atop his head was long, wild, black, and thick and it was around his cock as well. Coarse and rough, more like his facial hair.
But at the least Jon did enough to ensure it was fair to you.
Always clean and trimmed enough that it wasn't out of control, but Jon didn't exactly put time into it. He didn't really care, only enough that was to treat you right.
Besides, if Jons cock was deep inside you, he knew when it was on the longer, wilder side, that coarse dark hair could brush against your clit and he knew the sensation was enough to make you grasp tightly around his shoulders and back. Once he learned that, he trimmed far less often.
After all, he knew you liked how much his facial hair could burn against your sensitive skin, so why would the hair around his cock be any different.
Robb Stark:
He won't lie to himself, Robb is sort of a classic Northern man in that sense. Body hair didn't feel like something he should be ashamed of. He wasn't a wild man around his cock, but he didn't trim as much as what he assumed fancy Southern men would like to do.
Tons of them in the Kings visit were clean cut, no facial hair to be found, and groomed all fancy, and Robb hated that his mother had his curls trimmed and face clean cut. She said it was for the Kings visit, but he knew it was supposed to be for you, even though Robb knew you liked him with facial hair. You had told him as such more then once before. But at least during the Kings visit, Jon had to suffer with him on that one.
The hair by his cock was dark, coarse, and unlike the hair on his head which tinted a Tully red in the sunlight, below his hair was as dark as it ever was. It was trimmed only enough that it wasn't obscene for you, but you also clearly didn't care that much. You sucked his cock no matter what state the hair around his cock was in, so as long as it was manageable he didn't think much of it.
Robb knew he fucked you like a wild beast, so maybe it made sense he kept himself groomed only slightly above one in return.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon doesn't have much of an active physical relationship with you, mostly due to the nature of keeping things secret.
The biggest part of what he can give you, is simply romance at its core. Gentle touches, soft hands, doing little things for you and always with low tones and comforting murmurs in your ear. Sometimes if he had you in his lap, then he could feel his heart tearing at him a bit, insecurity yelling as he doubts whether or not he's treating you well.
He wants you to be loved, no matter what he's doing and even though you both hadn't reached having sex, he's just as romantic about all the rest as he is when you're both innocent and fully clothed.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon is as romantic in the moment as he is utterly intense.
His emotions are at an all time high when he's fucking you, and yet he feels almost terrified of letting you think he's anything but obsessed with loving you with all his heart. His touches are tighter, rougher, words harsher as they come out, but Jon will cling you to just as much as he knows you do him.
Sex is intense with Jon, and making sure you feel loved, safe and cared for is his biggest priority.
You've both had your share of being forced on by another person and Jon will do everything to ensure you never come close to that again with him. Jon knows he's addicted to you, worships you, he'd go to the ends of the earth and back for you. And if you don't feel that and more when Jon is inside you, then he would consider that a failure on his part.
He's raw and intense, but romance and intimacy is what he treasures with you now and he would do anything to ensure he never gives you less then that.
Robb Stark:
If Robb was aware of a massive problem he struggled with, it was that he tended to forget the romantic side of sex with you.
He loved you, he adored you in every single way, but Robb definitely was a bit on the rough, and hard dominant side when he fucked you. Rough attitude, degrading words, harsh and controlling touches and he didn't kiss you a lot during sex.
He wanted to hear you whine and beg and he couldn't do that if he were gentle and sweet. He could be the meanest parts of himself knowing that he would take gentle care of you the moment he was done.
You were the love of his life, he wanted to take you home and treat you like the actual Queen you deserved to be with him in Winterfell, but at war it was different. He wasn't always like that during sex, but it was common enough that he had a heavy heart knowing you trusted him to truly take care of you when you handed your obedience over to him like that.
Robb knows he is more of a man that thinks of sex as fucking rather then making love.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
If you were in Winterfell, no, he didn't masturbate.
Jon wanted to spend time with you, treasure every chance he got to feel your soft skin, your beautiful lips against his. If you were in the North, Jon had no thought of it, beacuse he had everything he would be fantasizing about anyways. You slowly explored things together, so if you were right in front of him, that was enough. But you weren't always there.
He hadn't started touching himself thinking of you until nearing fifteen. But really, what else was a teenage boy, with a crush on his best friend, supposed to do? It happened more after he kissed you though, he was eighteen and exploring more of an appetite for things sexual in nature anyways.
When you weren't there he would try and hold off, but sometimes you were gone for so long that he couldn't help it. It wasn't ever as satisfying as even being near you like that, but it was all Jon had when you'd be away from him for months.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon has you. He doesn't want anything else.
He came back to life, and only minutes after that did Jon slide his cock deep inside you for the first time, and he lost all interest in doing it himself then and there. He wanted you, your touch. Your wet, warm, and tight walls that clenched around him.
The only time he came close to masturbating anymore, was if he would bring your hand to his cock, covering it with his bigger one and help guide you to stroke him. But only ever until you felt confident to take over, otherwise any touch his cock got, he wanted it to be with you.
Masturbating just didn't interest him now. Jon had you, and he wanted you. Why settle for less then when he knew you wanted him as well?
Robb Stark:
Never once since you came back to him after escaping Kings Landing, did Robb not have you right there at his side. So in truth, Robb hadn't masturbated since you came back. What would he want that was better then his pretty little wife right in front of him?
When he was acting Lord of Winterfell, he admits he masturbated a bit more in the very dead of night then he used too. Partially the stress of everything, being away from his new wife after one night messed with his head on top of everything.
Robb would end up kneeling on the bed, grasping rough at what was supposed to be your pillow and stroke his cock. Through gritted teeth Robb would mutter as he did so how much he missed you, how much he wanted you back with him and how much he wanted to teach you beyond your first night together.
But then you were finally back, and Robb once more found no love for his hand when he had his pretty, needy little Queen ready to do whatever he said.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Without ever actually having sex, Jon didn't really have much of a concept of that kind of thing. He knew what he liked when you two were physical, but that level of sexual interest hadn't existed yet.
He had things he liked of course. He adored when you would run your hands through his hair, nails scratching along his scalp and giving little instinctual tugs when Jon would be a little more bold. He also knew he liked to take care of you, he liked making sure you felt good, and he loved to tease you until you might just pass out from a flustered embarrassment.
It was never in a context of genuine sex, but you and Jon learned together what you liked. You just didn't have the chance to take it that far.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
If you were to ask Jon directly, he'd say he didn't really have any kinks. But the more he'd think about you, the more he touched you it was clear there were some major ones.
Always making sure he was soft about it, and gentle as to not push you too far, but Jon loved being dominant with you. His entire life was at the bottom, out of his control and lacked any choice. But now? Now things were different, and you trusted him with your well being during sex and Jon took charge of that with immense responsibility.
He didn't like feeling not totally in control when with you, and dominance was the most natural way Jon presented himself during sex.
Jon didn't admit it to you, but he was obsessed with cumming inside you for a reason. He wanted to fill you with his seed constantly, over and over, keep it deep inside you until neither of you had anything left.
Jon would genuinely dream about keeping you tied to his bed, fucking you over and over, until you were with child.
Gods help him when he was with you, and his mind started to think about getting you pregnant. Because Jon didn't stand a chance of composure after that, all he dreamed of was you letting him spill inside you again and again until you swelled with his child.
And if that was a kink, then Jon absolutely had it.
Robb Stark:
Robb knows he can get a bit mean during sex.
He's dominant, very dominant. A strong, controlling weight on top of you that knows exactly how to order you around in the most pleasurable way for you. He gets off on being controlling dominant, and he also really gets off on how insanely obedient he's taught you to be.
You trust him so much that he could ask you to anything and you'd do it because you trust him to take care of you. It drives him mad how much you submit to him.
How he adores you with all his heart, but Robb degrades you like you're a whore in some brothel he's paying a copper for. And how much you love it. He so easily calls you a needy little slut, his whore of a Queen and you will whine everytime he hisses those things in your ear.
He also admits, that perhaps what helped him get used to being called a King, was hearing you say it as he fucked you. Having his Queen beg for her King to fuck her certainly made Robb learn he enjoyed it, at least as long as it came begging out of your pretty mouth.
L = Location (favourite places to do the do)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
One might think his favourite place to be with you was the privacy of his own room, but it was really the opposite.
Jon had five siblings, three of the youngest which liked to barge in on him at any moment during the day, meaning anything he and you did in his room like that had to be very easily hidden.
Most of the time, you and Jon liked to just go for a ride on horseback for a while, and wherever in the wolfswood you would end up was where the most exploration you two had with the other. No one was around, the likelihood someone would find you exactly there was so minimal in the vast, large expanse of the not very populated North.
You both loved being outdoors like that, where no eyes would find you and you could be as close and affectionate with the other with total freedom.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon has two similar favourites, and a guilty pleasure.
Mostly, he loves taking you in his room. Either he wants to lay you out on his own bed where he can climb over top of you and take you as many times as he wanted, or Jon would do so as you were both bare on the fur in front of his fire. His room always ran cold, but between the heat of the fire he diligently would tend to, and the quite warm temperature of Jons own body heat, even on the coldest nights he could have you sweating if he fucked you in front of the fire for long enough.
He loved the intimacy, the freedom of fucking you where was the most personal to you both, and now his position and title meant being barged in on was unlikely. Jon would pull you into his arms, and let you tuck into his chest bare as anything as you fell asleep. If in his bed it was easier to cover you up. But if he laid with you after out on the fur, if someone walked in now, that was their fault.
He did however, have a more perverse pleasure in fucking you up against the Weirwood tree in the Winterfell godswood, the night sky all around. Jon loved taking you deep for only the unjudging eyes of the old gods to bear witness to his need for you.
Robb Stark:
If Robb is a traditional man in any way it's how he has no interest in fucking you anywhere but in his room, in his bed, or at least what tent acted for your room out in his army camp.
He's fine with people hearing you, if anything he hopes his men have had a few good nights with their own hand listening to the degree to which you whine and beg when his cock is pounding into you. But he never once would let them see even a glimpse. Not a chance.
One time Theon had walked in, and Robb got so mad at what he almost saw that the Greyjoy later swore Grey Wind was about to rip his head off. After that, Robb would have Grey Wind guard right outside your tent together, as long as he was there, no one came in for any reason.
The direwolf would come in to sleep when it was all over, but he kept guard so Robb could fuck you into the mattress as hard as he wanted without any more risk of someone seeing you so pretty as you took his cock over and over.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
For a man who was terrified of getting you pregnant, Jon knew it was strange to get worked up watching you with children. So much of the time you were stoic and serious. But you were so soft and easy to smile with children that he couldn't get enough of it.
Much more specific, the first kiss you shared after each time you would return to Winterfell would work Jon up. You two always having to wait until the dead of night, and finally when he was able to kiss you after however many months it had been, it inevitably turned into you both kissing passionately for quite a while.
Jon had to learn how to be very controlled when he wanted you, knowing neither of you had the freedom of just being able to express that whenever you desired.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Were you to strip Jon down to his bare essentials, he would honestly just be turned on by you at any time. It took mostly, for you to even be a thought in Jons head for him to want you.
Your soft eyes gentle smile and even more gentle and caring touches worked him up. Worse so, the more innocent your kiss, the more genuine your touch that wasn't sexual, it would make Jons cock the hardest the quickest.
You two were together and had the freedom to show it, Jon had no more reason to want to hide how much you made him want you. It definitely wasn't always sexual, but sometimes it was a struggle for Jon to not let it turn sexual.
He didn't want you thinking he saw you as an object to fuck, sex was something he trusted so much between you both that it was an extension of how much he loved and adored you. But it also meant, you made his cock stir more often now then Jon had likely even been hard in his entire previous life.
Robb Stark:
Jealousy was one of Robbs most blatant traits. He was so jealous of the way other men looked at you or spoke about you to the degree that it made him noticeably possessive.
But what made it so strong as a need to fuck you, was how little you noted or cared about any attention that didn't come from Robb. You ignored or didn't know what men were leering at you like, but the second Robb came over with rough touches and a strained voice he was so jealous, you'd ease it by instantly going to him with gentle words and a soothing, innocent touch.
He wants his men to hear you, because none of them with their whores visiting their own tents get from them, sounds anywhere near what Robb pulls from you for free.
You are the love of his life, and what turns him on too much is how easy it is for you to remind men of that just by your innocent dedication to his love in public. He would keep a hand on you, kiss you, be sweet with you in front of his men and you would get flustered over it but let him do it because you knew that's how Robb liked to treat you.
Robbs own jealousy was a motivator, but he also knew he was easily turned on by your continued ability to be so damned innocent.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
You would tell him it's ironic, considering half of the time he spent with you in the training yard over the years was him knocking you into the dirt, but Jon would never do anything that would hurt you.
His touch was sure to always be gentle no matter what, and never too rough or demanding. He also knew that he didn't want to treat you the way he knew a lot of men treated women they were with. Or if he were honest, the way Jon reluctantly knew Theon was with women. You shared a stretch of corridors with Theon where your own chambers were and thus you and Jon spent much time when in your chambers, coping with what was inevitable to hear.
Jon didn't want to be harsh and vulgar, treat you in a way that would make you feel as if you were just like a whore in a brothel he paid for. You had brought up, or tried to nervously bring up something you'd heard about from one of the girls around and Jon shot it down.
He knew somewhat of the girls you meant, and a few of them worked the brothel just outside the castle walls in Winter Town. And Jon just didn't want to treat you the way most men treated those women.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
A lot of his previous turn offs remained the same. Only now, Jon had to work on his own intense possessiveness versus his needs. He was a lot rougher with you now, and he had to consciously remind himself that he didn't want you to feel used.
He didn't fuck you hard like that beacuse he wanted to treat you that way, Jon would just lose himself in how you felt around his cock. But it all tied into not liking to feel out of control. He struggled to let you suck his cock, beacuse he would too easily lose control and overwhelm you by going too rough.
Jon didn't like being out of control, but he knew he was lucky that you did not want to be the dominant one in bed, as much as Jon did not want to be the submissive one. It worked well, you trusted to hand your safety over to Jon and he got to be the one to take care of you entirely. He wasn't really much interested in the opposite, he didn't want to be ordered around or told what to do, not for this, not with you.
He knew he had to work on how intense and rough he would get, but Jon sometimes just didn't realize how rough he was getting. You never seemed to dislike it, but he didn't want you thinking you were just here for someone to fuck. He loved you, he adored you, and he wanted to be the one to take care of you.
Anything less then being in charge, Jon just wasn't interested in anymore. If he ever really was in the first place.
Robb Stark:
Robb really only had two hard limits for himself. He didn't want to fuck you with any risk that someone was going to see you, and he refused to do anything that would genuinely hurt you.
He went rough and played dirty but not once did Robb like the idea that you could get hurt by his hands. You trusted him with your safety in bed and Robb would always take that responsibility with the heavy weight it deserved. He knew your limits and would never push you, if he thought he was at risk he would stop.
Check in with you, gauge what kind of response you gave and decide if he needed to ease up for your sake or not. Robb would slap your ass until it was red and painful, but only beacuse you liked when he did it. That smacking would never go anywhere but your ass, and maybe your cunt when you were being particularly needy.
Otherwise his biggest no is having anyone see you. Again, he ended up having Grey Wind stand guard outside his tent anytime he intended to fuck you, just to make sure the King in the North was given the proper time with his pretty little wife that he needed without interruption. You were his, and he wanted none of these men in his camp to have a chance at seeing you no matter what he teased with.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
It was ironic that you ended up being the one married with more experience, considering that Jon knew you had so little idea about sex it almost was endearing.
He had joked once that if your chambers were by Theons, how did you still know so little about sex. And you'd shove him all flustered, muttering that just beacuse you could hear sure as hell didn't mean you listened.
You had come to him one day about taking his cock in your mouth, and Jon knew you had learned it from those girls who worked in and around the Winter Town brothel. You weren't a whore he was paying for, he didn't want you on your knees like they would for any brute who had a copper to spare.
He had known somewhat about tasting a girl between her legs, but by the time he heard about it, you weren't graced with enough time for him to even try and bring it up. It was a story Theon had told when he, Jon, and Robb had a little too much wine one night. Robb had shoved the man and gotten up to find a tree to piss on, leaving Jon to listen to a drunk story but he was far too unconfident to ask a single question about it. By the time Jon might have wanted to bring it up to you, you had to leave for Kings Landing and wouldn't return until you did with the royal company to marry Robb.
And that was the end of anything he assumed.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
If Jon could abuse his new title, and simply order you to not suck his cock anymore, he might have. But that was too authoritarian, and way too controlling.
The issue for him was, Jon didn't like being the one not in responsible control, and he was too wild and unpredictable when you took his cock in your mouth. Jon would much rather live and die between your legs.
It was one of the first things he did when he had come back, and maybe that turned it into an addiction. Jons mouth watered at the very thought of tasting you, and he a time or two had done it for a few hours continuously beacuse he truly couldn't convince himself to leave. He never tasted something like the wetness he would drink from you, and he never would anywhere else. It was like an oasis crafted for him alone.
Sure, it felt unbelievable when you sucked his cock, but if he was going to lose control he'd rather it be with his mouth attached to your cunt where the most pushing he could do was shock you from too much pleasurable stimulation. Rather then pushing your safety and your anxiety too far, with his cock in your mouth when he knew it could go from enjoyable to unpleasant for you in a second.
Robb Stark:
There was no point in lying about it. Robb lived for you sucking his cock.
It was one of the first things he fantasized about still during your wedding night. He imagined guiding your mouth over him so often when you and him were separated after the wedding, that when you came back to him, it was the first thing he properly did with you. Had you suck his cock like a good girl, and ever since he was obsessed.
How well you did, how much you truly, desperately wanted to be able to take all of him, how you'd close your eyes and barley realize you were letting out hums of moans and needy whines the more you sucked him. He'd guide your head at his own choice of pace, and he loved filling your stomach with his seed as if that was all you needed to live off of.
He'd known somewhat about putting his mouth on you, but by the time he had wanted to try, you two were at war and there just wasn't a whole lot of places to figure out what he'd be doing properly, and he wasn't about to go asking whatever whores his soldiers hired, to ask how to taste his own wife. That, and Robb didn't want to make you feel nervous by introducing something so intimate, and so brand new to you so suddenly.
He desperately wanted too, but it was just something he didn't know quite how to bring up to you yet.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Without ever having sex, pace wasn't exactly something Jon payed attention to. The rate in which your actual relationship developed was slow.
You had known each other for fourteen years, been together for six by the time you both wanted to try having sex, and even then you both realized neither of you were ready.
Everything he did with you was slow, he didn't rush, he didn't push, and he made sure everything he did do, was gentle. Exploring exactly what you liked, and making sure you felt loved when doing so. Something more of an urge in him sometimes whispered in his ear to go faster, or rougher with you but he could push that down easy. In your minds at the time, you both had all the time in the world.
If it all took a slow, loving pace to get there, then so be it. Or so you both once thought.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon tries to be gentle, he really does.
He often starts out slow. A loving gentleness rooted in how heavy you make his heart feel, but the more into it Jon gets, the more of something of a darker animal inside him does he let out.
He never contains himself the entire time, it's impossible. At some point, even if just right at the end, Jon will end up pounding his cock into you fast like a true wolf with his mate . Whatever dark, needy filth locked away in his head accidentally pours out in a deep husk in your ear beacuse he can't stop it.
Don't get him wrong, its passionate, intimate, and always ensuring you feel safe, loved and protected, but once Jon can hear how wet you are each time his cock sinks into you, its the beginning of the end. That's music to his ears, and he returns such a harmony right back. Fucking into you rough enough that anyone within 50 feet can probably hear how loud and rough of a slap Jons hips rutting into yours becomes. If the slap of your skin together echos in his ears, hes likely already too deep into the darker part of his mind to slow down.
He would never push you too far, never once. But Jon is unpredictable. He can start slow, sliding his cock almost all the way out before pushing himself back in as deep as he can, all the while you feel every inch of him beacuse he's just going that slow. But eventually, he picks up the roughness, and right near his final orgasm, that slap of skin becomes a steady smack as he rushes himself towards being able to cum one last time deep inside you.
But Jon knows his limits, and he is always hyper aware of how close he's getting to pushing you to yours and never once in his life will Jon ever actually cross that line. He'll get right up to it as close as can be, but never will he even slightly tip over into pushing you too much.
Robb Stark:
If there ever was a man who was a real wolf in the bedroom, it was Robb.
Slow was saved for when he used his fingers on you, and that was it. As soon as that man gets his cock inside of you, it's done. He is fucking you rough and fast until you are soaking his cock around him in a desperate cry.
Hes slow when he's in your mouth, beacuse he knows that's something you both enjoy, and he doesn't want to hurt you by pushing you too far, but your cunt is another story. Robb will fuck you fast to the point you can barley catch your breathe before he's pounding back inside of you.
The slap of your skin together is telling of how rough he goes, and the men have sometimes joked they're shocked you can ride a horse the next day, let alone bloody walk. Sex with Robb is fast and dominating, and he is happy to slow down and take his time doing everything else with you, just not when your warm cunt is clenching around his cock.
He knows if he could take you home to Winterfell, he'd be much better. He'd take you slow, take his time with you, but you were both out at war and he didn't have the luxury no matter how much Robb wished he could take you gentle and slow.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
When Jon thought about in in retrospective, it might have been the perfect time for you two to have quickies.
Always in secret, never having as much time as you both deserved with the other. Were you two actually having sex, fucking you fast and quick would have been optimal. But as it stood, you never had sex. So you two never did anything even close to that.
But, in Winterfell? With his father, the household guard, Lady Catelyns judging eyes, and the varying rambunctious nature of Jons five siblings, having you quick like that would have been risky.
Someone would catch you. Anything you did had to wait until you knew you were alone. Hell, Jon once got a little too eager to gently kiss you one evening, and as it turned out, Arya had spotted you both in the stables, and that's how she found out. Jon trusted her not to tell, but he never took anything of that risk again.
In total private where he could take his time, or not at all.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
If you went to Jon right now and asked if he liked quickies, he'd say no. He would say he hates them. And that would be the biggest lie he's ever told in his life.
It's possible he was abusing his status as King in the North to do so, but if he were a little late to the meeting, no one was going to say anything. And he was far better at pretending everything was fine then you were, so if only Jon walked in, no one would know. Except Tormund. Somehow Tormund always could tell, and Jon would spend the next 20 minutes actively ignoring that prideful but amused glint in the mans eye.
But he loved quickies. Jon loved fucking you needing and fast. Finding an empty wall to shove you against, sinking deep inside you and overwhelming you in seconds to the point you were powerless to do anything but let Jon take you. The way you'd cling to him in those seconds after, knowing this was all you had for now when normally Jon would kiss and hold you tenderly. It just made you needier for that later.
He never would admit it, saying he only wanted you when he could take his proper time and care. But the amount of times Jons almost gotten you both caught, beacuse he desperately needed to fuck you out of nowhere, was starting to stack up quickly.
Robb Stark:
One man truly and honestly hates quickies with all his being, and his name is Robb Stark.
If he has to fuck you quick, he's not going to do it and that is without exaggeration, the end of that. Robb wants to take you apart, he wants to ruin you for hour and hours until you have nothing left but his cock inside you, and then he'll build you back up like the Queen you are. That takes time, and patience.
Robb almost gets more worked up the more he cums, he hates the idea of fucking you quick in the middle of the day. Robb has things to do, he can control himself long enough to just get over it if he wants you. Part of it goes hand in hand with not wanting anyone to see you or come close to catching you, since Robb has no shred of privacy to touch you outside the isolation of your tent at night.
You're the love of his life, he wants to make sure you never question that fact. He may whisper in your ear like you're a whore in a brothel, but he won't fuck you like one. Not like he's here to throw a copper at you, cum and then leave. He hates that idea, it doesn't even appeal to him.
Robb wants you proper, in a bed, where he can fuck you hard, and then show you how much he loves you. He can't do that if he just ruts inside of you like an animal, roughly against a wall in the middle of the day.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? Etc.)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Technically, Jons entire relationship with you was the risk. He was a bastard, you were a highborn girl and niece to King Robert of all people. You were supposed to be courted by men like Robb, not a bastard with nothing to offer you but his heart.
He didn't try any experimenting or risk taking in sexual terms beacuse you two didn't have that freedom. The risk, was what Jon already did.
The risk was that night in the pouring rain in the wolfswood. He was 18 and you were nearing 16, he and his brother would hunt you and Theon in the wolfswood and see who could make it until midnight without being caught by the two wolves who knew this land like the back of their hands.
It was close to the end, Theon had been caught and Robb had given up once the rain started, so it was only Jon and you left, and Jon had finally caught you. Grabbed you from behind and held you to his chest with a low rasp of his victory, teasing in your ear.
He didn't know at first if you understood why the air changed. You were younger and certainly more innocent then him, but you were suddenly nervous enough that Jon felt confident it wasn't just him anymore. You tried to run, escape the way the air between you two changed to something heavy you didn't understand, but Jon didn't want this to stop. If you left now, he may never be confident enough again. So he grabbed you once more, tossing your back against a tree to make you stop running. You were soaked from the rain, eyes so wide and bright with lips just slightly parted in confusion, and it was too much for him to hold back.
It was the biggest risk Jon ever took, but he moved quick. Cupping both of your cheeks and leaning down to press his lips to yours. But the fact that you arched right up into him? Kissed him back eagerly and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck?
Jon knew there was no risk of him getting caught being with you that could outweigh how much this one payed off that night.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Risks were half of what Jon took now. Risk this fight, risk that battle but none were more worrying then every risk he took with you.
At every turn since having you back, it felt as if something threw a new test between you at every opportunity. Put on question how much Jon could protect you, and too many times did he not know how to stop it.
But, if there was a solace, it was that risks were only not unwilling to be taken when it came to taking you. Neither had done much and Jon fantasized about more and at every turn, he was fairly certain you would want what he wanted. He worried about it, worried that he was too rough, was too demanding, his intentions too forward but each time you came back to him with as much eagerness as the first time.
He knew he was gaining advice from either the best or worse sources, as the free folk around him all spoke rather blatantly about the sexual things they had done. Some of which Jon barley heard of, most of which Jon knew you had never known existed. And it took some work to tell himself not to try everything, but he certainly thought about them. Would hear the men go on about it, and just as he wondered why do it if it wasn't good for the woman, he'd hear just that other side from them and suddenly Jon learned far more about ways in which he could take you that you might enjoy, then he ever imagined. And he was willing to do them all, as long as you liked the idea, and it didn't harm you?
Jon might never say that he wants those things, but if they came up between you, he'd want to do it in a heartbeat.
Robb Stark:
One may think Robb would be a risk taker considering the degree to which he can fuck you any and everyday with his dominating mind and desires. But in truth, he doesn't like to take risks with you. That scares him, no matter if it's innocent or sexual in nature.
You're his wife and he came so close to losing you the way the Lannisters murdered his father, should Ser Barristan Selmy not have helped you to escape Kings Landing.
Taking new risks with you, while can be fun to playfully bicker about when you are naked in his lap as he keeps his cock sunk deep with a silent hope he's helping his seed take, he rarely will introduce anything that would be considered one.
You both are at war, you fight by his side in battle, that's more risk then Robb ever wanted with you, and he won't do any more beyond what you two already have.
He wants you home in Winterfell, swollen with his child before the proper start of Winter, he doesn't want to risk you in anyway that delays that anymore. He knows it's a big paranoia considering how much you trust him with your body, but Robb knows what your limits are and what his limits are and he refuses to go beyond those in any capacity.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon didn't have much way of gauging what he'd be like with you, at least in that manner. Much of what you two had done could've taken of their time and wasn't too taxing on either of you.
He'd draw it out as much as he could for you, and on the nights he managed to be weak enough to have you perched on his lap in his bed, he wasn't really aware of the time which passed. Of course, the time that passed sometimes went well over two hours without realizing. Sometimes he'd cum, but he could keep going after, likely the most he had in one night with you was three, but again, it wasn't quite direct touch and he had no way of knowing what being inside you might be like.
On his own, where he'd have too much of you he missed and no way to see you? It depended on how worked up he was. If he was mostly just horny, he could look to a memory of you and not last long and be satisfied.
But on nights he really missed you, he'd take out a stashed article of clothing of yours that he kept close. Grey eyes drifting to a letter of yours, and trying to read it and hear your voice in his head. Bracing a hand on the stone wall near his window, and the other on his cock, Jon could keep himself that consistently worked up for at least an hour straight on those nights.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Whether it was always in him to be like this with you, or if something about returning to life changed aspects of himself, Jon didn't know. But he could last for longer and stay hard so much longer then most men.
Jon could cum four times in a row and still be as hard and desperate as before the first. As long as something of his cock was inside you, Jon seemed to be able to last as long as it took to wear you out. His cock having that aggressive drive to fill you until he was empty just so he could do it all over again the next night. Hours it would last.
That night in the Ice Cells of Castle Black, Jon had no concept of how long he had been fucking you, but it was certainly past the hour mark by the time he pressed your back into the floor.
Again, Jon knew there was something not normal about the degree of his stamina, judging by the fact that he could spend hours fucking you so much that you practically would pass out in his arms, and Jon still would lay you down under the furs of his bed, telling himself that he can't just take you when you're this sensitive and already falling asleep.
If you truly tested his resolve, Jon would start at sun down and still be taking you by sun up. He'd need good few rests of a couple moments in between, for you and him, but it wasn't as if he needed much recovery time. On a good night, Jon wouldn't even get anywhere less then still more then half hard when pulling out of you until you two were fully exhausted.
Robb Stark:
Gods be good, the more Robb cums, the longer he can go it seems. You'd think he actually gets more hard after each time he cums inside you.
He has to rest in between, normally beacuse he knows he is rough on you and he doesn't want to accidentally push you from sensitive to in pain, but once the dust has settled? He's ready to go and Robb will tell you to just lay there and take it like a good girl if you're too tired to do the work.
He's perfectly content with doing the heavy lifting in bed for you, doing the hard work beacuse this is nothing compared to the hell outside your tent.
There are some nights his men are fully aware neither their King nor Queen got a wink of sleep, beacuse the guards near his tent could hear you both all night without exaggeration. If something could magically give Robb more energy when it made no sense, Robb had found that magical source in sinking his cock deep inside you.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon hadn't even gotten his cock inside you for the first time, he certainly wasn't about to let some pleasure toy get there before him.
He didn't really see the point as well, but he considered that maybe since he's a male, he might be unfairly overestimating the ease in which women would pleasure themselves. Men were a no brainer, but Jon had to take his time learning to fine tune your pleasure like a delicate instrument and toys might help in that capacity alone.
But he knew you didn't even realize such a thing existed, and he wasn't about to introduce that to you when he himself didn't like the idea.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Not a chance.
You had a significant amount of trauma behind you now, and thus you trusted Jon to take every step of the way to ensure you were safe and alright. Jon had no interest in using anything like a toy on you, he wanted to feel you, he wanted you to feel him.
Neither of you liked fucking in a way together with little physical contact and using a toy felt so lacking of intimacy. So lacking of passion. He couldn't gauge how you were feeling, or if you were close with a toy. Jon knew where you were at by the tiniest of clenches of your cunt around his cock or fingers and he'd never know with some toy inside you.
You wanted him, not something just used by him. And Jon wanted you, he wanted to feel you not just watch you get that feeling alone.
Robb Stark:
He wouldn't consider them toys, but he has tied you up before. Not much, just by the wrists but he wouldn't say that was a toy.
He knows what toys are out there and he dismisses that idea. What would something not real do for you that Robb couldn't give you himself in droves. He already has a cock that drives you insane, he has long fingers that reach your sensitive walls beyond what any toy could provide you.
Robb wants to tie you up more, blindfold you even but that was more of a, he wants you to trust him even more, sort of thing, rather then he wants to get wild with what he fucks you with. He wants what he introduces into sex to be a tool to help make the sex more pleasurable for you, not something to act as the sex itself without him.
Robb recalled once asking Theon what the point of them was, and having a good laugh between them that it's probably just what some Southerners invented beacuse their too boring with small cocks to actually pleasure a woman with what they barley have themselves.
And judging by how much you are utterly weak for Robbs touch, he would consider that to be likely more true then not.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon had to be subtle about it, but he was relentless.
Knew the exact look to give you to make you stiffen up and hide how flustered you could get. Knew just how briefly of a touch of his hand across your lower back as he passed in public to make your breathe hitch. Jon of course, also teased you just in words. He was quite good at teasing you at all stages of your friendship together but he was sadistic once you were were involved.
Some teasing was normal, others sounded more biting and mean to people around when you knew he was just trying to get you worked up. Get you annoyed, so that he could feel you melt against him later when he finally kissed you at your most irritated at him, and tease more that you were quite predictable.
This passed to touch as well, the first time he pleasured you was simple. A nice, exploration of his fingers on your clit as he worked out what you liked best, and just as he payed attention to what it is you about to cum looked and sounded like, did he pull away. Then he worked you up and did it again as you almost whined.
He loved it, he loved keeping you on an edge that had you not being able to do anything but rely on his touch, before he took it away at the perfect moment.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Gods be good, he is one of the seven hells sent directly to torment you. Jon no longer has to be subtle or secret, he can just tease you. It doesn't matter.
He doesn't act that way in public, no. But he doesn't need to hide his wants, desires, intentions. No, Jon can work you up in seconds and just keep you dangling over a free fall all day long. It's in his words, they aren't filthy, but they are needy. He wants you and he tells you, but he won't take you. He saves it, and torments you with his own patience.
He some days, won't let you cum. Gets you right there, and takes it away. Sometimes more then once in a row, and many times, he will keep you like that for days. Some times he teases you all the same the next night, sometimes Jon takes your orgasm away at the last minute in one overwhelming night and will just leave you like that for a week.
He loves it. He loves keeping you that way, keeping you needy for him, that the second his voice rasps low in your ear, you shiver for him.
If teasing you in and out of the bedroom could be a feat worth crowning one of, Jon would've been a King months earlier.
Robb Stark:
Robb wishes he had the patience to tease you, he does. But he doesn't.
He does it in small doses, will yank you to him and whisper that he wants you naked in his bed when he returns or that he expects his good girl to show her king her appreciation later that night. But it doesn't tease beyond that really.
He prefers to take his time with you, and teasing you like that doesn't really fit into that mindset for Robb. If he wants you, he wants you then so why would he tease you for later? Part of it stems from how much you are by his side. Robb constantly has you beside him, often with a hand on you somewhere. Leaving a kiss to your hair, or a gentle kiss as he runs his thumb along your cheek in front of his men beacuse he needs you to breathe more then the air around him.
Robb doesn't want to tease you more then the little bit he does, he just wants you. And out in a war, there isn't a worse place he could think of to be a tease. He will work you up as much as it takes for you to know he wants you in his tent that night before it got too late to take care of you, but he has no patience for teasing beyond that. He already has you, he doesn't want to waste that time.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
If he and you are in the castle in Winterfell? Jon tries his best to be very quiet. He wasn't loud, more of a growl or a hiss at the sensation.
But sometimes a deep gutted groan could leave him, and that certainly was not common enough of a sound from Jon to pretend it wasn't for something filthy.
He had one trick though once he and you got comfortable enough. Jon would yank down the front of your dress, usually pulling your arms from it or unclasping it enough so it pooled around your waist, and occupy his growls or grunts with his mouth on your breasts. It was the most perverse thing the two of you would do, but it kept Jon quiet, while his other hand honestly? Well if his mouth wasn't hiding your high pitched, beautiful gasps and whines in his kiss, he'd reach a free hand up and roughly cover your mouth as you grasped at his wrist with both hands. Burying in each other to hide the sounds of your sinful secret together.
If you two were out in the wolfswood alone, it was a bit easier. Jon would let himself rumble deep, and freely encourage your breathless gasps with a gentle press of his lips over your cheek, forehead, neck, whatever he could reach.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Take that growling and grunting, and multiply it by a hundred. Jon once more, knows he no longer has any need to hide what you two do. No one cares that he has you in his bed, and so no one who could even hear through the thick stone walls that muffled much noise, would think twice.
They knew you two were together, it didn't matter now.
Jon could growl and hiss as you clenched tight and soaked around his cock, bite at your neck until he could rasp deep and strained in your ear, as he spoke the first things on his mind usually much more needy and filthy then he intended.
If he was trying to be discreet, he would bury his mouth into your neck with kisses, licks, bites, sucking rough bruises into the skin and it would cover the deep noises from within. But in turn it made you gasp and cry for him so loudly that everyone would hear anyways.
Jon wasn't really a talker, not with sex especially. The closer his orgasm got the more his heart rambled, but it wasn't intentional. He spoke from his deep desire for you with raw intense honesty. All in between rough breathing to keep him collected, only to feel that hiss or growl in his chest at how beautiful you felt around him.
If no one heard you two in low tones though, many would simply be able to hear the smack of skin as he fucked into you rough, or the hard bang of a table slamming against a wall, if he took you somewhere more public.
Robb Stark:
At the most dense, Robb has had an army camp of almost thirty thousand men at the start of the war, when he had joined with the River Lords. If someone had told him that all thirty thousand men had heard Robb and you fucking at night, he'd smirk with pride and say he hopes they got off nice and hard to how perfect you begged and pleaded for your Kings cock.
Robb is a talker in bed, he runs his mouth as filth pours out. In return, you cry and moan and beg for him, and it all is a harmony of filth that he knows so many men by now have heard from you and him.
Robb doesn't moan, he growls and he groans rough when he's deep inside of you, his voice normally warm and soothing dropping to a strained roughness that scratches at your ears as much as it soaks you between your legs as well. Robb knows just what to say to make you an obedient little mate, and he takes full advantage of that the entire night.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Jon Snow:
If the only thing Jon was allowed to do for the rest of his life was kiss you, he'd never have a single thing to complain about. Last life or this one, Jon was addicted to your lips.
The way they were so soft, moulded to his perfectly, how sweet they tasted and how much you let his tongue explore your mouth with strong desire. He adored having his lips on you somehow, and the only thing that changed one he came back was he could now do it without fear of being caught. But the love for it stayed the same.
Kissing foreheads was something he always did with everyone, his brothers and sisters and you, but what was different is how rare it was that he gave you any passing kiss alone. A brush of his hand, lingering too long and getting too close to your lips when he pulled back.
To Jon, kissing you is practically a hobby. He finds his lips to you in some way constantly, and if he's inside you then he adores keeping your lips pressed to his. He loves to cum deep inside you, keeping your lips trapped against his kiss. Jon wishes to hear your moans, and swallow them into his own mouth, just so he can lick into yours and demand more sounds gifted into him.
If Jon would be able to say he has one talent, he was confident enough to say he's quite a good kisser. And he wants all of that to go to none but you. Jon kisses you more, then an entire brothel of whores will kiss all their paying men in their entire lives.
Robb Stark:
Telling you now would be so unfair, he knew. If he said it now, the man wasn't there to defend himself or refute it, and beacuse of that, he didn't want such a comment to change your view of your best friend.
But Robb was not stupid. Robb was more observant then he was likely given credit for on this one, but it didn't bother him so he didn't bring it up to a soul, not him, and definitely not you.
He didn't know the true extend of how strong it was, or if he had feelings, or for how long he felt this way. Robb didn't know those details, but he knew without any doubt, that in one way or another, Jon Snow wanted you.
He had suspected it for a while since your last visit. The way Jon would look at you, was so much more then the man thought he was giving off. He was so brooding and grouchy the month before you arrived with the Kings company, and Robb truly felt bad. Here Jon was, desperately wanting to fuck you, his best friend, only to now watch you get married to Robb.
But now, Jon was at the wall, and you were Robbs wife. Telling you now would just be rude, and a breach of trust that Jon didn't know Robb had been holding onto. But the real thing that he wasn't saying, was that if for some miracle, Robb won the war, and brought you home to Winterfell, he had seriously considered it.
Either Robb would get lucky enough to find a way to bring his brother home where he belongs, or Jon would simply come visit, the way their Uncle Benjen came to visit their father. There was no harm, you were Robbs wife after all, that wasn't breaking a vow.
But Robb couldn't help but wonder, if he could at the least get Jon to come visit from the wall, he wondered how easy it would be to convince his brother to fuck you. Now, Robb wasn't just handing you over to his brother, but just maybe, Robb wondered, Jon might be open to sharing at least some parts of you, if just your body.
Robb held out hope he could bring you home one day, and just maybe, find enough in his jealous heart to share at least something of you with Jon. He was at the wall after all, and you were his best friend.
It wouldn't be much, but maybe the wall would be a little less lonely for his brother, if Jon were to go back with the freedom to know what it felt like to slide his cock into his best friend's sweet, soaking cunt, and more perversely, how it felt to willingly fuck his brothers wife.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Jon Snow:
Jon had an ongoing joke with Tormund, just taking any opportunity the free folk could find to make some comment about how small Jon was.
It had stemmed from a nickname which Tormund called him all of his own choosing anyways. The tall, lumbering man with wild orange hair, thick beard and loomed over most. He would joke and call Jon "Little Crow", and that turned right into jokes about his size. But in honesty, that was the furthest from the truth.
He didn't quite realize at first if he was well endowed, Jon having little to no interactions that would end up at discussing cock size, all he knew was the nights he'd help guide your clothed self over his covered cock, at his most hard Jon knew he would sometimes feel you shake, hold tightly onto his shoulders and try to hide the nervous exhale at the feeling. Well, if the free folk were anything, it was not shy about that sort of aspect of them. Only realizing internally that there weren't quite many who matched up to him.
He was long, yes. And it showed even when he wasn't at all hard, how long he was. But it was how thick his cock was that was the intimidating factor, at least in terms of fucking you. His cock was long, but adding just how shockingly thick his girth was, he always left a stinging burn when he slid inside you.
Jon was just lucky that you craved that very feeling as much as he wanted to give it to you.
Robb Stark:
Robb has a distinct memory of when he had sex for the first time, how the girl afterwards when getting dressed, made a comment that for someone whose never been inside a woman before, Robb knew how to use a cock like that.
At the time Robb just wanted to put his clothes on and leave, but she then kept going. Saying that most men with a big cock were idiots, and that Robb fucked like a man who was compensating for a small one but without the small part. He didn't care about that until he married you. Then suddenly, Robb was all too aware that yes, he was well endowed and knew how to fuck.
Because now you were his little innocent wife about to take her first cock, and it was long and thick. He had kept your eyes on his when he finally undressed so you didn't get intimidated, only to then make you watch as he slid inside you for the first time, so you understood how much you were taking inside you.
He knew you would feel that sting the next day constantly from his size, but that just meant Robb knew he needed to work you up and make you wet as could be to reduce the chance of his thick cock hurting rather then being a perfect pleasurable amount of pain.
Though, Robb would admit, he got off way too much at how wide his cock stretched your pretty mouth when you sucked him.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Sex wasn't something he thought of all too often. Honestly, most of Jons sex drive in those days were also tied simply with how much he missed you.
He felt more worked up about being with you when you were in Kings Landing and he couldn't do a single thing about that. He never told you just how often he'd read your newest letter to him, sitting it on his desk, bracing one hand against the stone wall in front of him and stroking his cock with the other as he read it. Trying to hear your voice, pretend as if he knew what your hands on his cock would feel like, pretend he had any clue what being inside you could feel like.
He ruined a few of your letters with that habit, not that he ever said it to you. But it was just something desperate really. He felt lonely without you.
When you were in Winterfell, he wasn't that worked up. He knew his time with you had to be careful, and you two would enjoy the other to the fullest when you got away alone. But when you were gone, you weren't just the woman he loved. You were his best friend, and being in love with your best friend meant that a lot of how much he just missed you, ended up tying itself into how much he yearned to touch you.
You were so much more then just a woman he wanted to touch, but when you weren't there to calm him down with your mere comforting presence, Jon had no outlet but that.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
If putting gold on it, Jon would say he doesn't have a high sex drive. And if he did bet on it, he would wind up being the poorest man in all the Seven Kingdoms.
It wasn't out of control, Jon had a strong drive and focus as a leader, but he could take you any time of the day. He didn't ever not want you. Jon could control his want when he needed to, and that was easy but the moment he could find any excuse to take advantage of your alone time, Jon felt his need clawing at his chest like an animal desperate to rut.
He fucked you quick during the day all the time, beacuse he was always just that ready to take you, always wanted you even when he was skilled at never showing it. He didn't want you thinking he just wanted to fuck you like an object, you weren't a whore in a brothel he wanted to use.
Jon absolutely adores you, but both your pasts have made sex something a bit strangely tied to how Jon shows he loves you. A lot of sexual trauma sat between you two, you from Ramsay, Jon from Ygritte but together you and him were learning to move forward and find a healing together. That just meant learning that Jon was a wolf with a ridiculously large appetite, but it was always with love.
He didn't want to be without you, and sometimes the only way Jon, a brooding, stoic man of not many words, knew how to express that was to taste you, kiss you, and fuck you. It was a way to express his feelings as well as move together past something that still deeply haunted you both in your own ways.
But if you asked him, Jon would say he doesn't have a high sex drive, and Tormund and Theon who have to stand there and watch how ridiculously turned on Jon would get around you constantly, would just glance at the other with an exasperated shake of their heads at Jons degree of denial.
Robb Stark:
It was a bit complicated, essentially, Robb only had much of a sex drive when he knew he had time.
First leading a war, then becoming their King and having so much of the Lannister regime fighting against him alone that he had to split his mind into two. If he was thinking about the war, he didn't want to distract himself, and you were a perfect Queen by his side and knew exactly when Robb wanted to focus.
But then at night, when it was quiet and Robb could have you all to himself, then he suddenly felt that drive come crashing through the walls of his tent and bombard him. Once alone, you worked Robb up to wanting to fuck you in seconds. You just had to look at him alone in your tent and Robb was already almost fully hard, you made it so easy.
Sun down to sun up, Robb wanted you again and again and he could think of nowhere else he wanted to be then with you, and inside of you. You were his perfect girl, and your drive matched his perfectly too. You always wanted each other at the same time, so once Robb wanted to fuck, you were ready to hand yourself over to his cock and his mercy or lack there of, depending on the day.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon never slept very well. Always would either wake up and be unable to go back to sleep, or he couldn't fall asleep in the first place. And in truth, it left a lot of nights where all Jon wanted to do, was leave his room, go down the stairs to the corridors your room was in, and find his way into laying in bed with you. He'd imagine how gently he'd crawl in beside you, gently guiding you onto your side so he could pull your back against his chest and hold you tight.
But he couldn't do that, no matter what you two did, sexual or otherwise, as soon as you and Jon were with the other, falling asleep in the others bed was a bad idea. You or him would gravitate into the others gentle embrace fast asleep too unplatonically to explain it away should one of his siblings walk in.
Which Jon hated, considering during your first visit to Winterfell, you sometimes had difficult nights you couldn't sleep or a windy storm would blow through the castle and more then once you'd find your way to Jons room asking if it was alright if you slept in there, you feeling a bit nervous being in that corridor all alone.
So now, Jon would spend his nights with you, exploring you, kissing you and he'd have to part ways to sleep separately and he never slept more then 5 hours at the most after that. He missed having you close too much.
Post Resurrection Jon Snow:
Jon still didn't sleep well if you weren't there.
His bed too cold, his arms with nothing to pull tenderly into his chest, he couldn't lean over and press a tender kiss to your sleeping lips beacuse you were too beautiful to resist. He wanted you in his arms at night.
But when you two would fuck, Jon willingly didn't sleep for a while after as well. He'd run his hands gentle along you until you fell asleep, then he'd switch between watching you in more peace then you ever looked in your waking hours, or running his hands along your bare skin beacuse he loved how soft you were under his rough, large hands. On nights he wore you out particularly rough, you'd fall asleep so easily and he loved doing that for you.
You had nightmares now, more then you were ever willing to admit, and the more exhausted Jon made you with his cock, the better you slept after. And Jon liked to hold you, watch you sleep and ensure he was keeping you safe even now from the horrors in your own mind. And only when you had been quiet and peaceful for a good half hour to an hour, would Jon finally fall asleep.
You were the most vulnerable when you slept in his arms, and Jon was there to protect you. And he just liked staying awake to do that, getting some time to himself to admire you blatantly without you getting flustered over his loving gaze for so long.
Robb Stark:
Robb only slept well with you twice since marrying you.
Both of those times when you were in his bed in Winterfell after becoming his wife. Robbs room was decorative and the fabrics draped around kept the heat in well so it was always cozy in there, and under the furs of his bed. Robb never treasured a nights sleep more then the only two times so far he had in his bed with you as his wife.
He slept terribly in the war. Some nights he was so busy you couldn't even convince him to come and sleep at all, and you'd have to try again the next night. So when it was all said and done, Robb would lay with you asleep in his arms and be awake for a while. Longer then he was honest with you about.
He'd run through war strategy day after day, and at night try and piece together the life he wanted to bring you home to once this was all over. You didn't sleep well either, but as long as Robb fucked you, you slept better then he did and so he'd do it every night if it were that easy. When he did sleep, it was more what he wanted, being in bed with you in his arms, but Robb never got as much sleep as he would have, should he be able to bring you home safely to Winterfell.
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fantasyqueen502 · 4 months
Text
Officer O’Hara
Rated: PG
Word count: 950
Summery: Officer O'Hara hates spider-man, but doesn't know she's married to him.
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“You're under arrest!” An officer barks, her gun raised and aimed at the luchador's skull, glaring at her. She steels her nerves, meeting the eyes that were concentrated on hog-tying an unconscious Lizard with its own tail. 
“I think the words you are looking for are 'thank you,'” the man says, speaking through a voice distorter. 
She maintains her distance. “Nueva York police department, you are under arrest for tampering, vigilantism, battery, bodily assault, and contaminating and jeopardizing numerous crime signs.” She lists. 
“I thought we had something, Officer L/N.” 
“And getting on my damn nerves. It's officer O'Hara now,” she corrects. 
“Is that against the law?” He quips. 
Gripping the walkie, pinned over her heart. “I need...” she managed only three syllables. And that's being generous before an electric hiss sliced the air, a force shoving her into a far wall. The wind knocked out of her two more zips, sound bright red webs pinning her hands to the brick. 
"Awww, we can't have our fun now that you're off the market.” He whines. 
“You're gonna pay for this. You hear me. There are consequences. You can’t continue evading the law---mmm.” Webbing glues her mouth shut.
“Till next time, officer O'hara,” he chirps. 
“Congratulations to the new beau.” He swings off. 
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“You look like a chipmunk, mommy.” Gabriella observes. 
Her cheeks and lips are red and puffy. One hand holding an ice pack to her left cheek. 
“And you will be too if you don't finish your peas.” 
“I did.” She points at her empty plate with her fork. 
The mom lifts the plate, revealing a grouping of peas hidden under it. Using a butter knife, she slid them back into the plate, placing them before her. Gabriella pouts, slouching back in her seat, kicking her feet in a mild tantrum. “But I don't wanna!” She whales. “They’re yucky.” 
“Finish your dinner, and you'll get a slice of tres leche cake, Daddy made.'' She coos cleaning the dishes. Holding the ice pack with her shoulder. 
“With strawberries,” she mumbles.
“And raspberries,” she nods, smiling to herself, seeing the reflection in the window of Gabriella begrudgingly eating her peas. 
“I'm home!” Calls from the front door.
“Kitchen!” She returns.
“Ow.” She yelps as her husband sneaks a kiss on her cheek. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks, looking to get a good look at her face. “Did adhesive solvent help?” He asks. He had received a slurry of texts while at work about the situation. Trying the call only to be declined until she sent him a selfie of herself. Red webbing covered her from below her nose to her chin. 
“Yes, but my face is now burning from scrubbing it raw,” she groans. 
“I'm sorry, honey.” Placing a kiss on her forehead. 
“Another reason to the list to keep myself restrained from wringing that thick neck.” She grits out
“Why do you not like Spider-Man, mommy?” She mumbles while taking a break from her peas. “He's so cool and saves people like you, mommy.” 
“That's right.” 
“No, honey.” 
The couple looks at each other. 
“He didn't go to school like mommy did, followed the rules, and not just swing around as I pleased and assault an officer. Me!” 
“But he's a good guy. He even wears your colors.” 
“Why are you defending him?” 
“I'm just playing devil's advocate.” He holds his hands up. 
“Finished!!!” Exclaimed the young girl. “Cake, now.” 
“Dinner’s in the microwave,” she sighs before leaving the kitchen.
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Reading and rereading the same line from her tablet of a book she downloaded a while ago but never got the time to finish, thanks to life. 
Knock!!! Knock!!!
“We got ice cream for you, mommy.” 
Gabriella says, nudging the door with her hip. Big bowl in hand. Throwing the now useless melted ice pack to the side. To greet her daughter, taking the bowl as she focused on climbing into bed. Snuggling up close to her mom. 
"Thank you.” She coos kissing her cheek. “Got your slice of cake?” 
She nods. “Big slice.” 
“Did you brush your teeth?” She asks. From the smell of whipped cream and fruit, that was a no. 
Gabriella nods, hiding her mischevious grin. 
“Gabriella.” Calls from the doorway. 
“Uh-oh.” the young girl coos. 
“Busted.” the mother laughs. 
“Teeth and bed; I'll be there in a minute.” He instructs.
The tiny tot scampers out of bed past her dad. He pats her head as she makes her way to her bathroom. 
“I'm sorry,” she exhales through her nose. Eyes tired. 
“For what?” His voice is soft and gentle. Kissed her ears.
“I know how much Spiderman means to the city, seeing the looks on you and Gabby's faces when he’s on TV and the daily bugle.” She sighs, massaging the space between her brows. 
“I understand your feelings with the webslinger.” 
“The only feelings I have I can't say in fear of our five-year-old hearing and repeating.” 
He chuckles. She looks at her bowl of moose tracks topped with chocolate syrup and takes a heaping spoonful of cold goodness. Sighing as she closes her eyes and moans from the relief it brought to her lips. 
“Let me say all of the no-no words for you,” he offers. “Give him a piece of my mind.” 
“Really.” She chuckles. 
“Really,” he assures. “I’ll get him a stern talk on lowering the polymer strength in the adhesive in those weds.”
She laughs, but squeaks, holding her cheek, but laughs anyway through the pain. “I feel bad now,” she says through her breaks for breath. “I don’t want him to die from your science talk.” 
"Well, too bad for him,” he tuts. She leans in, giving his lips a peck. He smiles and licks his lips.
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strawberryspence · 2 years
Text
Because I am obsessed with the famous trope here’s another one that kept me up all night.
Steve and Eddie dated right after Vecna in ‘86 and it’s perfect. They date each other and it’s like two puzzles clicking together. But they’re young, foolish and they both have mountains of trauma. And sometimes, the passion and love, just isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.
They have a messy break up that has Eddie packing all his stuff up in ‘88. Eddie goes to LA or New York, either way that’s where he gets discovered. He then goes on to write some very angsty and angry rock/metal music about the break-up that gets him up on the map.
Steve hates it. He hates it with every fibre of his soul because it’s one thing when you and you ex still have the same friends and have to be civil with each other, but it’s a whole other thing when you open the radio and this man you dated, this man you loved and cared for and failed is just out here singing it for the whole world to hear.
And yeah listen, it’s petty and dumb. But Steve writes his own fucking songs, it’s not the direct response to Eddie’s song but it’s close. By that time it’s already ‘90 and Eddie’s made a whole name and career out of their relationship. Steve writes the songs, he sings, and he sends the damn demo to almost fifty different companies. And he gets picked up by one company.
Steve takes the pop star route, and with his looks and his somehow amazing vocals, by ‘94 Steve’s on the charts with Whitney and Mariah. The whole Party has solemnly promised to not get involved with their petty songwriting fighting anymore. They also haven’t spoken in person in almost six years, and the only way they communicate now is through the freaking songs.
There’s not a lot of overlap with the rock and pop community, and no one notices it until ‘05. It’s one fan that makes this one blog post talking about this weird freaky coincidence in Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson’s songs. It becomes a whole thing, like someone from Hawkins pulls out the yearbooks and finds out that they could’ve known each other. Their faces are splashed together into every magazine and celebrity entertainment shows.
They don’t say anything about it. No one comments about it for a few years and it infuriates the public even more. The next time Steve comes out with a song, Eddie comes out with another song a few months after and it’s once again a literal conversation about their relationship.
The whole thing continues until ‘11 and by then there’s blog dedicated for all the clues. It’s now a long running thread, and it gets updated when there’s another clue to this massive confusing puzzle. There’s a whole subsection with names of every Party member and how they connect the two artists together. There’s freaking flow charts and pictures and family trees.
It only ends when Eddie finally posts two pictures on Twitter. The first one is taken backstage. All you can see is Steve’s back, but you will know it’s him because of his hair. He’s standing at the side of the stage, and on the stage is Eddie Munson singing. The second one is a picture of Eddie sitting in a couch as Steve looms over him, hands crossed on his chest. Eddie’s signing his own album with a smirk, while Steve glares at him. If you zoom, you can see the sign on the album saying, “To Steve. This album is for you.”
The caption says: “Me and my biggest fan. Circa 2004.”
Steve replies to the original post saying: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Eddie deletes the post and reposts it with: “Me and my wonderful, gorgeous, talented husband. I can’t believe I am married to THE Steve Harrington.”
It’s the first time the term “break the internet” is ever used.
Turns out, they were just writing the songs to spite each other and to add fuel to the fandom fire. (In an interview, Eddie says, “It’s our foreplay.” and Steve doesn’t talk to him for a solid 30 minutes for running his mouth. It only lasts for 30 minutes because Eddie made it up to him by using his mouth for something else.)
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cambion-companion · 2 years
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Hiiiii I am ABSOLUTELY obsessed with your Aemond fics and they are literally getting me through the day because oooofffff are they so wonderful to look forward to!!! I was watching this show the other day and one of the scenes just got me thinking of how interesting it would be to see Aemond in it. I just wanted to request something if that’s alright with you? Just reader admits to not being jealous or doing crazy things like threatening others for flirting with her because she knows Aemond’s crazy about her but Aemond thinks of it that she doesn’t want him the same amount as he does so decided to make her jealous by dancing and flirting all night with Alys/or someone other lady and instead of getting angry like Aemond wanted she gets incredibly sad and hurt by him. Plan backfires and Aemond realizes he fucked up. Even better if they’re married and he does this dumb shit because we love a groveling obsessed Aemond trying to make up to his wife for all the mistakes he makes
Thank youuuuuu and keep loving Aemond as much as you do because it is EVERYTHING
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Again, I created a drabble hehehe, we love a quick read!
This definitely serves both angst and fluff so buckle UP and yes I am spoiling you guys...2 fics in one day!
Aemond x reader | angst to fluff | jealous Aemond | posessive Aemond
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You smiled up through your eyelashes at the noble lord who’d grabbed your attention, insisting on engaging you in flirtatious banter.  All around the two of you, couples danced with lively abandon to the swelling music.  He was handsome enough, you thought tiredly, casting your eyes about the crowded room for your lover.  Aemond was nowhere to be seen and with an imperceptible sigh you nodded and smiled at the overeager lordling.
“Excuse me, a moment, will you?”  You had spotted your prince, his silver hair contrasting in the swirling color of dancing people.  Touching the elbow of the rather crestfallen man, you departed, weaving your way over to Aemond.
He looked at you, rather aloof, as you approached.  His violet eye displeased upon your face, the other eye covered by his preferred black leather patch.
“Having fun, Lady Y/N?”  Aemond’s voice, though low, was cutting. “That Lannister cub seemed entranced by you.”
“Oh please, Aemond.”  You pried his rigid fingers open from the fist he’d made, interlacing them with your own.  “You know I am wholly yours, heart and body.”
“Hmm.” Came the terse reply.
“Do you want to dance with me?”
He didn’t answer, instead Aemond continued to stare across at the unsuspecting man who you’d been speaking to.
You rolled your eyes, releasing his hand abruptly. “Fine, be sour. I plan on enjoying my evening.”
With a toss of your heavy hair over a shoulder, you stomped away rather ungracefully, almost immediately running into another eager lord.
“May I have this dance?”  The young man asked, silver eyes twinkling.
You glanced back at Aemond, his eye practically sparking fire with the heat of his gaze.
“Yes, I’d love to!”  You graced the nobleman with a winning smile as he led you onto the dancefloor.
He was an excellent dancer, his hands firm upon your waist, his steps light and quick.  Tommin Greyjoy, from the Iron Islands he introduced himself.  Tommin quite enjoyed talking about only himself and before long you instinctively began to tune him out, beaming and nodding up at him each time he paused for breath.
You were quick to duck away once the song ended, making up a hurried excuse about needing water and scurried over to the drink table, grabbing a goblet from a passing servant.  Glancing around, you saw Aemond almost immediately.  He was chatting with a short curvy young woman, with red hair that tumbled in ringlets down her back.  Her amble bosom was straining against the pale blue corset she wore, and the way she looked at the Targaryen prince as she spoke made your teeth grind.
Your brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as you watched Aemond lean closer to her, far too close for your liking.  To your chagrin, another flower of a girl joined them, her delicate fingers coming to clasp Aemond about his wrist as she laughed at something he’d said.  He made no move to remove her hand.
Your heart dropped.  It became hard to swallow.
Aemond turned his head, feeling your attention upon him.  His eye met yours, but you quickly averted your gaze to the ground.  Your lips tugged down into a frown, the infuriating feeling of tears beginning to make your eyes burn.
Setting your goblet carefully back onto the table, you walked to the edge of the room where you stood observing the suddenly lurid scene of revelers. You hugged yourself, maintaining a neutral expression as yet another young man approached you asking for a dance.
“No, I’m afraid I feel rather unwell.”  You declined, shaking your head.
“May I retrieve something for you?”  He asked politely, looking mildly concerned at your wan face.
“That’s not necessary.”
He left you alone.  You sent up a silent prayer of gratitude to the gods.
You spied Aemond once again with those same two women, he was paying them attention but kept glancing over at you in the corner.  His expression had morphed from one of vindictive pleasure to barely concealed worry.  You watched him excuse himself from the ladies, peeling one of their hands off his arm before striding purposefully toward you.
Aemond came up to you just as another lordling attempted to ask you for a dance. “No.”  The prince growled, answering for you.  “She is not interested.”
The man looked around for the intruder, opening his mouth to argue but blanched as he saw who it was and made haste to put distance between himself and the Targaryen.
“Thank you.”  You said reluctantly, hugging yourself tighter.
“You are crying.”  Aemond stated, peering into your face.
“I am not.”
“What is wrong, Y/N.”
“What do you think?”  You cut your eyes over to where the women he’d been engaged with had their heads together, whispering.  “They seemed rather enamored by you.”
Aemond sighed, tilting your chin up with his finger. “This conversation is seeming rather familiar.”
“It’s not at all the same, Aemond.”
“How is it not?”
You refused to look at him, though his grip on your jaw tightened. “I will always only be interested in you! You have my adoration in its entirety.”
“You think I feel differently.”  It was not a question.  Aemond tapped your cheek with his index finger, his thumb stroking your quivering lower lip.  “Y/N, look at me.”
You raised your eyes to meet his.  Aemond’s expression was soft, tender even, as he gave you a small smile.
“I thought you were clever, Y/N.”
Your protestations were silence with a muffled “I ammfph!” as Aemond brought his mouth down hard upon your own.  His lips were hot against yours, you instinctively pressed flush against him as Aemond’s hands gripped low at your waist, his leg parting your thighs.  You tangled your fingers in his thick hair, pulling him further into you.  You felt a low wanting groan rumble in his chest, his breath filling your lungs as your tongues tangled together.
He broke away slightly placing a little peck to the tip of your nose.  Your head was spinning, but you noticed many eyes upon the two of you and the whispering of voices buzzing around the grand room.
“Perhaps that will alleviate those doubts from that pretty head of yours.”  Aemond ran the back of his finger down your cheek.  He leant in to place another, more chaste, kiss to your parted lips.
“What doubts were those again?”  You followed his movements with wide eyes as the prince took your hand in his, leading you back onto the dance floor.
He chuckled, leading you into the beginnings of a slow waltz. “Exactly.”
You glanced over his shoulder to the two women he’d been speaking to.  Their cheeks were flushed; they watched the movements of your and Aemond’s dance with expressions of shocked anger mixed with envy.  You hid your satisfied smirk in the crook of Aemond’s neck, breathing in his smell of smoke and leather.
“Something amuse you, my dear?” Aemond’s breath tickled your cheek.  He grazed his lips against the shell of your ear before kissing your temple.
“I think we’ve upset a couple women over there.”
“As if they could hold a candle to you in any way, perzītsos.”
And he kissed you again, in front of the gawking crowd.
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cannedpickledpeaches · 8 months
Text
Beneficial Marriage
Jade x Reader
You’ve thought about it long and hard. Yes, this is the conclusion you came to. A way to secure your future.
You slam your hands on the table as you stand, your eyes boring into Jade’s face. He continues writing in the Lounge’s ledger book without moving from his seat. You would have thought he didn’t take any notice of your abrupt action, but the slight upwards quirk of his lips gives him away.
“As I thought, I have to get married to a competent person!”
You think you hear him exhale a quick puff of air, something that barely qualifies as laughter.
“Is ‘competent’ truly the word you are looking for?” He flips a page, eyes still trained on the numbers. “Surely, you must have meant ‘wonderful,’ ‘kind,’ ‘compassionate,’ ‘loving,’ or something along those lines, no?”
“Those would be nice, too. But competent definitely is my priority. A useless partner is just dead weight on my shoulders, right? There’s no way I can marry someone who’ll drag me down.”
What brought this on was the recent success of your clothing brand. Your wares focus on making human fashion trends comfortable to wear for all manner of beastkin. Tails, ears, fur, horns, you name it and there’s a category in your online shop for it. It is not a new concept, but it is still true that most trending clothes are created with regular humans in mind. It certainly did not hurt for Vil to casually mention your shop in his recent Magicam post.
“If my success continues, doesn’t this mean I have the potential to really make a lot of money?” You have a surprisingly good business sense, so you think you have a pretty good chance of keeping your brand afloat. But with great money comes great responsibility. “I don’t want to get exploited by a partner for my money, nor do I want my partner to be an idiot who makes growing my business difficult. So it’ll be best if they’re competent and have no issues with managing their own income. They could even help out with mine, although I’m aware that might be asking for too much.”
Jade notes down some calculations, flawlessly multitasking between managing the ledger and listening to you. He hasn’t looked up at you once, but you can tell he’s finding great entertainment in listening to your ramblings. The barely restrained grin on his lips is a dead giveaway.
“You underestimate the greed some possess. Even a businessman with a flourishing company may attempt to steal yours.”
“Well then, I imagine my judgement of character will be so good that I can filter out those people right away.” His shoulders shake slightly. Is he stifling a laugh? “Don’t laugh at me. I’m being serious here.”
“Don’t you think,” he says, closing the ledger, “the fact that you remain friends with me indicates your poor skills in judgement?”
“Don’t be edgy. It’s making you exude middle-schooler vibes.” You dramatically place a hand over your chest and close your eyes in mock sorrow. “Stay away from me for your own good! I’m dangerous!”
Jade finally chuckles audibly, hiding his grin behind a gloved hand. You open one eye out of curiosity. His sharp eyes dart up to meet yours. There’s a curve to them that only exists when the smile is genuine. You aren’t sure how happy you are to be the source of his entertainment.
“How interesting it is to hear that is how you perceive my words. I will be more careful with what I say in the future.”
“Whatever, we’re off topic.” You cross your arms and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. In your excitement, you’ve forgotten you have the option to sit back down. “I’m still thinking about my requirements for a partner.”
“Why are you in such a hurry?” He leans forward in his seat and tilts his head. He must find your dilemma funny. Certainly, he wouldn’t have any troubles finding a partner, the son of rich parents that he is. “We are still young.”
“And no longer in school! Meeting people has never been so difficult.” It’s not that you don’t socialize. Networking is important for business, after all. Unfortunately, nobody so far has met your standards. “If I lower my expectations, my successful and worry-free future will be compromised!”
“There is nothing wrong with staying single.”
You look to the side, pursing your lips. A slight flush settles on your cheeks. When you reply, it is barely above a whisper.
“Maybe I kind of, sort of, just a tiny bit, want a relationship.”
Jade doesn’t look surprised. If anything, his grin grows bigger and shows a few too many serrated teeth.
“There is nothing wrong with that, either. If it will ease your troubles, may I propose a solution?” He reaches across the table and reaches for your hand. You meet him halfway. Your fingers rest in his palm lightly, with enough control to yank back at a moment’s notice if he decides to pull something unhinged just to tease you. He doesn’t do so, but his expression puts you on alert. “Wouldn’t you agree that I am competent enough to be a candidate for your partner?”
You blink once. Twice.
“What kind of bull—”
You snap your mouth shut. Upon further thought, it’s not a bad offer. You’ve known Jade for years. He’s shifty but reliable when you need him to be. Despite your wariness around his hidden motives and his constant sense of schadenfreude, there’s an underlying unspoken trust between both of you. If it comes down to it, you’re confident you can, to some extent, counter his schemes. His family is rich, he’s set to inherit the business, and he’s capable enough to run it properly. Actually, isn’t he a pretty good choice?
“I’ll consider it.”
It’s worrisome how his smile looks like that of a cat that caught the canary, but you suppose he’s always been like that. You can cut him some slack this time. You don’t even withdraw your hand when he pulls it to his lips.
“I am very pleased to hear that.”
“Only for consideration, okay? I haven’t made a decision yet. But even if I do,” your eyes drift to the ceiling in thought, “it should be fine. Couples can always break up, engagements can be annulled, even marriages can be broken by a divorce. So really, I have nothing to worry about!”
He presses his cheek to the palm of your hand, his grin seeming about to split his face in half. He murmurs against your skin in a tone that sounds more like a promise than a goal.
“Rest assured that if you truly choose to be mine, I have no plans on letting you go.” His eyes, sparkling in mischief and withheld laughter, curve with his smile. “So do take your time and think long and hard about it. I will patiently await your answer.”
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sophswritingthings · 10 months
Note
a follow up to english! reader where reader decides to sneak into japan w mizu—how would their domestic life be like (did they adopt a cat, do they have a farm, does mizu continue to pretend to be a man so they can get married that kind of thingy ) and would ringo and taigen ever find out about reader and mizu
sorry if this doesn’t make sense i don’t request/ask much
pairing: mizu x english!reader
warning(s): the usual stuff (blood, swearing)
a/n: mizu adopting a cat,,,, yes!!! she would so just grab some cat off the street and be like “hmmm mine now”. she seems like a black cat person even if they’re considered “bad luck”
summary: after sneaking into japan with your partner, you both decide to settle down and live as quiet of a life as possible.
word count: 907 words / 4,500 characters
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you were sitting on one of the comfy pillows settled down in your house, a small black and white splotched item curled into your lap as you read a book you’d brought from england with you.
you looked up to see mizu stumbling in, a bit bloody and tired.
she lent down, first, without a word—kissing your forehead.
you smiled, looking up at her.
mizu had decided to stay a samurai; and stay pretending as a man—for her, and, for your safety. if she masked as a man—people would see your relationship as… “acceptable”.
“long day, huh, sweetheart?” you whispered.
she nods, rubbing her forehead, “mhm,” she hums the word, seeming tired as ever.
“you can go to bed,” you gently squeeze her hand. “I can host taigen and ringo.”
oh, yes, taigen and ringo.
you’d met them—albeit accidentally—when you’d come to japan within the first few months. mizu had planned to keep you a secret; especially from a man like taigen, but that became increasingly hard when the samurai would show up unannounced. 
so she just let him find out on his own; find out you were an english woman, from england itself, and that she was in a relationship with you.
surprisingly, he’d agreed not to tell.
ringo, on the other hand, was told straight away. you could see mizu did truly trust the man who once called himself her “apprentice”. 
and you quite liked him; he was kind and was very brave, despite his obvious disability. and you couldn’t deny the man made good noddles.
“no, no…” she mumbled, leaning down to pet the cat sitting in your lap, “I can stay awake a bit longer.”
“are you sure?” you cock your head, “you look like you’re about to pass out.”
she groaned, “that’s because I may,” she hauled herself into your shared bedroom.
you frowned. you always knew mizu overworked herself, but you hadn’t guessed it was so bad.
the door fell open, taigen and ringo on the other-side.
“hello, boys,” you say with that posh english accent of yours, smiling, “mizu’ll be a moment, she just got home. she’s just getting changed and is cleaning up.”
“sounds good! I’ll start on the noddles,” ringo made his way hastily into the kitchen. meanwhile, taigen stayed and greeted you kindly.
maybe he wasn’t your favorite person, considering what mizu told you about him, but he was never rude to you.
that’s when mizu appeared from your bedroom—and made a beeline for the kitchen. seems she wanted to talk to ringo; or really needed some kind of energy.
taigen suddenly followed, leaving you alone in the room once more.
you could hear the three talking. faintly, quietly, but they were talking.
and what were they talking about that it looked they didn’t want you to hear?
“my love?” you call to mizu, hearing feet stir gently and begin to come toward you. “what are you three boys chatting about in there that you don’t want the lady to know, hm?”
she chuckled weakly, sliding in to sit behind you. she wrapped her legs around your waist, her arms draped around your neck.
“nothing you need to worry about,” she murmured into your ear. she looked as if she were about to fall asleep.
"you could go to sleep," you whisper, slotting your hand into hers. "I'll wake you up when the food is done, mm?"
mizu nodded slowly, to your surprise. she kissed your shoulder a few times before falling asleep tucked into your body.
you slowly rock her awake, when you the scent of ringo's cooking float into the room. the food they had here in japan was never your favorite, but you were getting used to it with time--especially ringo's cooking.
"eat, my love," you whisper to her as she raises her head. you hand her a bowl of food, eat hing as she slowly and quietly began to eat.
after a few hours of eating and chatting, ringo and taiga disappeared into the cold. it left you and mizu, wrapped up in one another's gentle embrace.
your head rested against her chest, her fingers playing with yours. she had you wrapped around her finger, both figuratively and literarily.
"I did have something I wanted to ask you," she says, her voice right near your ear.
"hmm? and what's that?" you hum rather sleepily, "is that what you boys were talking about..?"
"m.. mhm," she seems hesitant. she shifts herself so you're both sitting upward. you gaze at her, wondering what she was on about. "im not exactly sure how they do this in england, but i.. bought this before we left."
your eyes widen. she pulls a sparkling ring from her pocket.
"t-they, um, usually get down on one knee.." you mumble, wiping the tears pooling in your eyes.
she chuckles, adjusting herself to be sitting on one knee.
"at first I was very.. hesitant, to take you back to japan, with me," she begins. "but now I feel I would have absolutely spent the rest of my life regretting it if I didn't. would you.. marry me?"
you nod and you nod, laughing and smiling as tears poured from your eyes, "yes--yes, of course I will," you whisper through your tears.
she takes your hand, slipping the ring onto your finger.
she took your hand to her lips, kissing the sparkling diamond ring.
"I can't wait to call you my wife."
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a/n: someone left another ask that perfectly follows this up so expect that soon!
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moonriselabyrinth · 2 months
Text
My top 10 Brackwood songs & why each qualifies
War of Hearts by Ruelle: “I can’t help but love you even though I try not to” pretty much sums up the one scene we got between them, it was the tension and undertone we all picked up on. It’s what Davos was thinking as his hand turned just slightly towards Aeron’s even as he approached him heatedly.
Daylight by David Kushner: the expression of religious guilt surrounding sex/a relationship, the lines like “telling myself, I won’t go there” and “telling myself it’s the last time”, the idea that this expression of sexuality must be concealed and only allowed to live at night, I could go on forever probably.
Once More to See You by Mitski: the sweet melancholy of this song while being about loving someone dearly but being forced to keep it secret and living for seeing them just one more time fits Aeron and Davos devastatingly well.
Love and War by Fleurie: to keep it simple the line “lover, hunter, friend and enemy, you will always be every one of these” alone makes it perfect for them.
Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage: The elegance of this song that’s talking about kinky sex is so impressive and lovely to listen to in the first place and I think that fits Aeron and Davos very well. They want to tear each other apart in a tender sort of way. And the singer expressing possessiveness within those moments is, again, very fitting.
Six Feet Under By Billie Eilish: this song is about a love that is already doomed but having hope that with a little care and effort it would flourish even if you know deep down it can’t, you need that hope.
I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski: they are each others losing dogs. “Where I’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down”, “I’m losing by their side”, “someone to watch me die”.
My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski: Davos and Aeron can’t have much of their own. They live in a time, a place, and within a system that takes everything from them as individuals. They are a Bracken and a Blackwood not Davos and Aeron. They are the sons of highborn men, they are river men, they should be knights and fighters, good at riding horses and killing and hunting, they are to marry a woman and have children and continue on their line. The only thing that truly belongs to them is personal thoughts and feelings. The only thing they can keep for themselves is loving each other.
Doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine: this one might not fit quite as well as some of the others on my list but I really like it for them all the same. I feel they could both easily come into the mindset that one of them feels more than the other because they would each always be putting up fronts and struggling not to show their true feelings so I think the lines like “you'll sit and stare like a goddamn machine” and “I'd like to plan out my part in this but you're such a narcissist” can fit pretty well. But the lines that really bring me back to this song for them are these ones: “The death of me was so quiet, no friends and family allowed, only my murderer, you and the priest who told you to go to hell” also “and the funny thing is I would've married you, if you'd have stuck around” and finally, tragically, “I feel more free than I have in years, six feet in the ground”
Somewhere Only We Know by Keane: this song is less obvious most likely but I like the idea of each of them being tired of the family obligations, the work of everyday life, the façade they have to put up about hating each other so they just daydream about being alone together somewhere know one else even knows about. Perhaps it’s where they go in their minds when life is overwhelming.
Anyway, feel free to share your own or discuss my picks in the replies 😌
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Text
The Gang's All Here
Biker!John Price X Wife!Reader
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 It was adorable, you were the mom of the group when it came to everything, especially when they were on leave. You’d invite everyone over and feed them until they were all too full.
a/n:this fic was inspired by this GORGEOUS artwork by @yakowo and I could not get the idea out of my head, also for anyone who voted in favor for the tattoos? you're welcome (P.S. I'm so sorry for making you guys wait MONTHS for this!)
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(These are the tattoos I picture John having!)
John wasn’t the type of person that you’d expect to come onto base riding a motorcycle, a Harley Davidson no less. So, when Soap and Gaz were outside cracking jokes together their jaws dropped as John parked the roaring beast. When the hell had he managed to find the time to ride? It felt like they’d been gone for the last year nonstop. Gaz had heard all about how much you missed John. It was adorable, you were the mom of the group when it came to everything, especially when they were on leave. You’d invite everyone over and feed them until they were all too full.
“Laswell approved the time off, we’re gonna get to spend Halloween with the missus this year.” Gaz was probably more excited than anyone.
It may have been due to the fact you were all planning on matching, Gaz had picked Simon’s name from the hat, while you and Johnny were going to be matching. John downright refused, saying he couldn’t trust the boys to pick his costume. He’d made you swear to secrecy, no one was allowed to know his costume until Halloween. You weren’t complaining though, not after he’d promised to let you help ‘grease him up’.
“Better not get too rowdy this year, lord knows Johnny nearly got arrested last time.” Of course that had been because someone had tried to roughly grab you when John was off getting you drinks.
The boys had always been quite protective of you, doing whatever they could to make sure you were safe and keep all the creeps away. You’d been married to their captain the entire time they’d all known one another, so you were the co-captain in their eyes. Johnny was definitely the most protective, he saw you as a little sister(even though you were older than him). Simon would simply glare at anyone who looked at you wrong, scaring them off before they could utter a single word. Gaz would throw down with anyone who dared utter a single bad thing about you, how dare you disrespect his co-captain!
“He said he’d be on his best behavior, something about not wanting to anger the missus this time.” You’d turned into a scolding mother when Johnny began to act out, it was hilarious to watch.
John had thrown you over his shoulder even while you were kicking and screaming to be put down so you could continue your scolding. Johnny learned that night not to piss you off lest he deal with your wrath for the rest of the night. It was a comical thing, knowing you could insight fear into a man who sees death for a living.
“Better not, she told me they’re doing matching costumes and I can’t risk her needin’ to get a costume last minute.” That wasn’t to say you wouldn’t be able to find something from your closet, but you’d planned this months prior.
“Simon and I are too, you’re gonna be the odd man out captain.” Gaz smirked over at the other man, noticing the way his brow raised slightly.
“You and Ghost are wearing matching costumes? How’d you convince him?” Simon wasn’t afraid to let loose and enjoy himself, but wearing a costume to match with Kyle? That was shocking.
“Said he wanted to wear something to help get some attention, can’t say much else.” Gaz was going to keep his lips sealed until halloween had arrived, it was going to be the surprise of the century.
John knew better than to try and pry, this was out of his hands and as long as you were happy, he was happy. His mind began to wander for a few seconds, what would the holidays be like when you had your own little tots running around. You’d probably dress them up into cute halloween costumes and take them trick or treating. It didn’t sound like such a horrible thing at the moment, seeing you take the little ones up to the doors to get candy you’d sneak for yourself. No, no thinking about things like that when you’re at work and have important things to do, like a mountain of paperwork.
“Keep an eye on things and make sure the new recruits aren’t acting like idiots, please.” John waited for Gaz to acknowledge his words before heading down to his office.
The picture from your wedding day was the only one he’d been willing to take to base with him, not wanting to risk the wrong person knowing about you. His wedding ring sat alongside his dog tags, resting against his chest every day. It was a reminder that no matter how stressful things could be, he would always go home to you at the end of the day. They weren’t due for another assignment until the end of November, mainly because Laswell needed more intel first. Maybe that was the only reason they were allowed the few weeks of leave that was granted. Oh well.
It was nearing seven at night by the time John realized he hadn’t so much as left his desk to get a drink or even a bite to eat. Shit, you were going to absolutely ream his ass when he got home and you found out. This wasn’t the first time, and absolutely wasn’t going to be the last that he’d completely forgotten about himself. Simon had given him hell from time to time, telling him he needed to eat before you showed up at the base yourself. It had only happened once, though that was more due to the fact he needed the paperwork he’d forgotten and not because he hadn’t left his desk for..ten hours.
Standing up and stretching his tired limbs he groaned at the exertion and cracking from his idle bones. Shit, he had definitely been sitting for too long if standing for a few seconds sent shivers down his spine almost instantly. Time to get something to eat and head home for the next few weeks. He’d barely made it out of his office before Johnny was running over with what could only be described as childlike glee.
“Captain! Was hopin’ I could catch you.” The plus side of working alongside Johnny was that he could get shit done when necessary, the downside is when he was excited the man could talk forever.
“Just grabbing a quick bite and heading out, have you got your leave papers yet?” John didn’t have much time to talk, not if he wanted to make it home before you were in bed already.
“Just this mornin’, I wanted to ask about the bike.” Johnny was nervous, given that the last time he’d seen one was nothing more than a quick glance on their last mission.
“What about it?” John turned into the cafeteria, grabbing a plastic wrapped sandwich that was most likely made that morning.
Johnny wrung his hands together nervously, if questioned he would vehemently deny that his palms had become sweaty when asking his higher-up about something as simple as a motorcycle. Maybe he could just ask you about it instead, surely John had told you some things here and there and you’d managed to pick up any information.
“I uhh, I was wondering where you got it, she’s a beaut.” There, he’d ripped off the bandaid and didn’t need to make this any harder than it needed to be.
“Found her through a seller, she was in pretty rough shape so I’ve been fixin’ her up on leaves.” The bike was John’s pride and joy, second of course to you, but he loved his harley in a different way.
“Oh! Okay, that’s cool.” Johnny nodded, keeping a slight distance between himself and his captain.
“Any reason you’re asking?” John grabbed a bottle of water before turning to sit down at one of the open tables.
Johnny felt his nerves skyrocket, how does one admit they’d always wanted to ride but were too afraid of nearly getting themselves killed? His mother had given him hell for it, saying he’d lose his life by being reckless. It had deterred the idea for years, but seeing so many bikes made him want to do it anyway. 
“No reason, see you later cap.” Johnny nodded once before heading out of the room.
John wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t confused, it wasn’t often that people even saw him on the rumbling biped vehicle, but given the opportunity he always took it. Nothing more invigorating than feeling the wind whip around you, the sound of the bike echoing behind. You would beg John to take you for a ride constantly, especially on date night.
The recruits were quiet as they sat amongst themselves, discussing what their next drills would possibly be. It suddenly hit John how old he was, he’d been so used to making sure that everyone else was taken care of that he hadn’t taken the time to really look at life. You’d both discussed having children when the both of you were truly ready. If it came down that neither of you would truly be ready for a child, then neither of you would become parents. He’d just be the fun uncle that could send the kiddos home hyped up on sugar.
After he’d finished his sandwich and water it was time to head out. Any paperwork was sent off for review, and if it wasn’t up to Laswell’s standards she could wait until he was back. Getting home and relaxing for the rest of the night was high on his priority list at the moment. Maybe the two of you could order take out instead of cooking, maybe even a glass of wine to go along with it. You’d be dealing with everyone in a few days anyway, god where had the year gone that it was already Halloween again.
The sun was nearly gone by the time John had made it out of his office, grabbing the keys to his bike and heading towards the garage. Ghost’ voice was booming, words sharp as a whip towards whomever he was angry with. John sighed deeply before turning towards the shooting range, if it was a new recruit this could get ugly fast. And much to his annoyance it was not one, but four new recruits, each of them looked terrified as Simon nearly towered over them.
“Do you think this is a joke? Something to laugh about?!” Ghost was enraged, hands clenched into fists by his side.
“No sir.” They spoke in unison, each with their heads down, gazes locked on the floor.
“The next time you come in here thinkin’ you’re gonna play with the weapons, I will have you removed, permanently.” Ghost took gun safety quite seriously, one wrong move could end the lives of multiple people.
“Yes sir.” They all nodded, waiting for further instructions.
“Get out of my sight.” Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, waiting until they all scrambled away before turning to face John.
There were no words shared between the two men, neither of them needed to say anything to get their points across anyway. However, John wanted to make sure that Simon would be alright before leaving for the night.
“Still coming over for Halloween?” John was still curious on what Gaz had picked for the costumes, couldn’t be too bad.
“I promised your missus I would anyway.” No one on the task force could tell you no, it was adorable.
“I’ll see you then, make sure the recruits stay out of trouble.” John nodded at him, heading down to the garage so he could get home to you.
The night air was cold, bike rumbling beneath him as he wound his way along the roads that lead to your shared home. He’d sent a quick text to you before he left, telling you to order dinner so the two of you could relax together. Good food, a glass of wine, and the most amazing wife that he could ever ask for sounded like a perfect night to him. Now if he could ignore the clawing thoughts that came with work that would be even better. Laswell knew better than to call him unless it was an absolute emergency that he needed to attend to.
The light was on outside as he pulled into the driveway, parking the bike and waiting until it was settled to step off. The sound of music echoed through the partially opened window, the sound of your voice following along with the lyrics. John snickered to himself, it was definitely a song from your younger years, it was definitely a 90’s boyband. If you were letting loose, what would he walk into? Shaking off his shoulders he headed into the house, locking the door behind him before slipping off his boots.
“Baby!” You ran over, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight embrace.
“Hello to you too, having a party without me?” John’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to his body.
“Never, can’t have a party without the man of the hour.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips, giggling as he tried to pull you back for more.
The two of you laughed happily, dancing together until the doorbell rang loudly, letting you know your dinner had arrived. You had mentioned a movie you’d wanted to see earlier that week, talking about how scary it was from your friends. John could handle some little movie no problem at all, everything about it was fake anyway.
“Alright, got our food, drinks, time to turn on the movie.” You wiggled into your seat, pressing play on the remote before digging in to your food.
The movie, for lack of a better word, was absolutely terrible. It was sort of a tradition in your home that during October you would watch corny horror movies whenever John was home. It was something you’d been adamant on, refusing to let the tradition die out. Of course you’d watch the classic horror movies to help break up the monotony of the bad ones. John had insisted you watch The Thing recently, until you remembered the kennel scene. Watching poor animals, even fake ones, get hurt always makes you upset.
“What do we watch next? We’ve got a few days before the party, and you don’t need to go back until after.” You popped a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth, chewing slowly so you didn’t get any kernels stuck between your teeth.
John pondered for a brief moment, he’d loved watching the classics, but maybe something new could be better? No, something from the 90’s maybe.
“What about Candyman?” It was one of your favorites, having grown up as a horror fan you clung onto the infamous movie.
“A man after my own heart.” You giggled and grabbed your remote to turn the movie on. 
The only light in your living room, besides the TV of course, were the string lights you’d hung up in the middle of September. You’d claimed it would help give ambience to the movie watching experience, and John definitely had to admit that it had. It gave off an eerie vibe that he couldn’t quite place, but given that it was Halloween he wasn’t going to complain.
You could practically recite the movie, the way Tony Todd portrayed the character of Candyman so well never ceased to amaze you. You’d wanted to have a career in film making, but given that the industry was one of the hardest to get into, your dreams were crushed. 
You wouldn’t have met John had you followed your dreams.
You hummed softly, it was true, had you followed your heart you would have never met your husband. Sure you probably would’ve met someone in Hollywood, but it wouldn’t have been the same.
“Wait, what are you wearing for Halloween?” You glanced over at your husband.
“I’ve got a pair of overalls I’m gonna grease up. Go dressed as a mechanic.” John was nothing short of efficient. He’d found them one day after going through his clothes and tossing out anything that was either too old, or had holes to be thrown away.
“Hmm, that works.” You turned and put your attention back onto the movie on your screen.
You and Johnny would be matching, while Simon and Kyle would technically be matching. It had started as a joke but after discussing it, you had all agreed and the plans were set in stone. The costumes arrived a few weeks after you’d ordered them, the boys all paying you back right away. John of course had no idea what you were wearing, and you weren’t going to tell him until the very night of. It was going to be quite the surprise, you couldn’t wait for him to see.
Halloween
You were pulling on your undergarments, not wanting to spoil any surprises your husband might find later before quickly pulling on your dress. You’d been tempted to order a wig to truly match but you didn’t want to risk it. Instead you fixed up your hair, placing the headband before pulling on a pair of pantyhose. After a quick glance in the mirror you were happy with your look, pulling on the shoes and heading down to the living room. The boys had all crammed into your home, each of them taking their respective costumes to go and change. John had run to the store to get one final bag of candy, promising he’d be back in time to head to the party.
Kyle walked out in his amazing glory, the fluffy coat showing off his amazing physique.
“I have to admit, you make an amazing Ken.” You snickered and twirled your finger, telling him to give you a full view.
The costume was perfect, down to the headband and sunglasses he’d managed to find last minute. It was the only thing missing out of his entire get up.
“What can I say? I was born to be a total stud.” He smirked before bursting into laughter, both of you righting yourselves as Johnny walked out.
“I forgot how much I hated wearing boots sometimes.” Johnny muttered to himself.
The two of you had dressed as Velma and Daphne, Johnny had offered to be Velma since he was already a natural brunette. You weren’t going to argue with the man, the dress gave your husband even easier access.
“If you can tuck the bottom of the sweater under itself, it’ll look better.” You walked over and helped him adjust the dark orange sweater, brushing down the fabric of his skirt.
“Bettah?” Johnny glanced at you, hoping you could head out soon.
“Much.” You smiled and stepped back from him.
Before any of you could say anything else Simon walked out of the guest bathroom, the hot pink outfit causing all of your jaws to drop open. How Kyle had convinced him to dress up as cowboy Barbie you weren’t entirely sure, but god did he look fantastic.
“I have to admit, you look fucking hot right now.” Your eyes were wide, hands reaching up to mess with the green scarf wrapped around your neck.
“Thanks, this is all Kyle’s idea.” Simon tossed his bag down beside the couch.
“I’m not complaining, those pants are doing so much for your ass right now.” Your cheeks heated up before you caught the way Johnny was also eyeing him. At least you weren’t alone.
The sound of the front door opening suddenly caught your attention, your husband made it home with a few minutes to spare. Such a procrastinator that one was, now you’d be rushing out the door to get to the party.
“Sorry! Nearly got into a fight with someone who almost hit me on the way home. I just need to get dressed.” John dropped the candy into the large bowl, turning to face the rest of you.
His eyes landed on Simon first, a slight brow raised before he saw Kyle, followed by Johnny, and then lastly you. 
“Don’t tell me. Kyle and Simon are Barbie and Ken, and you two are Daphne and Velma?” John snickered as he slipped off his shoes quickly.
“Good job, now go get dressed so we can leave!” You all but pushed your husband towards your bedroom.
You could discuss the costumes later when you were actually where you needed to be for the night, right now was not the time. The plus side is that you were within walking distance of the party, the downside was that you were definitely going to be late. 
“Jeez, your arms look even bigger.” Kyle blurted out as Simon flexed his arms. Johnny was practically drooling at the sight.
“Alright, you guys head outside and I’ll see what’s taking John so long.” You waited until they’d all left, mainly to make sure poor Johnny didn’t pass out.
Shaking your head you made your way down to your bedroom, pushing the door open slowly so you didn’t startle him.
“Hey hun, are you…” You trailed off as you saw your husband, the white tank top he’d dirtied and greased up showed off the sleeves of tattoos as well as his back piece beautifully.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, let’s go hun.” John spritzed a couple sprays of cologne before heading over to you.
You watched the way his muscles ripped beneath the fabric, eyes glancing down to his legs beneath the coveralls. The arms over his coveralls were wrapped around his waist, giving him the look of being an actual mechanic. Jesus you weren’t going to be able to keep your hands off of him at this rate.
“I’ll have to remember to have someone take a photo of us when we get there.” You grabbed your wristlet and headed out of the house with John.
The other three, that were locked in a heated discussion, all fell silent as they saw their captain in a tank top. 
“Holy shit, you’re covered in tattoos?!” Kyle was floored, he’d recently found out his captain rode motorcycles, but seeing this? This was all new.
“Oh, yeah, I’ve had these for years.” John merely shrugged, wrapping an arm around your waist as you all made the short walk to Kate’s house.
The music was loud enough that you could hear it outside, but it was clear that everyone was still able to have conversations. Kyle, Simon, and Johnny all took off the moment you got inside with John, causing you to roll your eyes. You just wanted one photo to at least remember the night, the costumes looked so good too!
“I’ll make sure they take a photo before we head home tonight, promise.” John pressed a kiss to your hair, leading you further into the party.
“Thank you.” You smiled as you leaned against him, avoiding any of the grease that could ruin your dress.
The party was lively, everyone complimenting your costume as well as John’s even asking a few questions about his tattoos. John was proud of the work he’d had done, especially the back piece he’d sat through over five sessions for. You loved when John got the recognition he deserved. The man was downright gorgeous, and you were reveling in the fact that he’d chosen you out of everyone.
The hours flew by, the drinks flowing through your system before John cut you off. He wasn’t going to risk getting you drunk like last time. You’d taken photos with all of your friends, giggling at the couples costume that Farah and Alex had done. He’d dressed up as a dinosaur while she was dressed like a handler. Everyone took photos with John, claiming they wanted to show off the tattoos he had and see if they could get something half as good. You knew better, it was only because of how gorgeous your husband was. You weren’t blind, even in regular clothes John was the most attractive man you’d ever met.
“Hey, why don’t I take you home? It’s getting late anyway.” John could see the way your eyes were drooping closed, exhaustion seeping into your bones.
“We gotta round up the boys too.” You’d offered up the spare bedrooms so they didn’t have to worry about driving home so late at night.
“Already did, sweetheart, so let’s go.” John scooped you up into his arms, saying goodbyes to everyone before making your way out of the house.
Your eyes slowly slipped closed as you rested against his chest, your feet sore from standing in the kitten heels for the last five hours. John didn’t so much as complain as he carried you to your shared home, opening the door to let everyone inside. Johnny didn’t hesitate to rip off his boots, tossing them aside before ripping off the sweater. John raised a brow at the younger man, watching as he hurriedly picked up his discarded items.
“Sorry, sir.” Johnny wasn’t going to let them lie around, would never do so in someone else’s home, but getting to strip down was his only thought.
“Just clean up, that's all I ask.” John turned and headed up to your bedroom, laying you on the plush mattress before turning to change into his own pajamas.
Your soft snores filled the air, chest rising and falling slowly as you slept peacefully on your bed. John chuckled and finished getting changed, turning to help you out of your own clothes. His eyes widened as he realized you had gotten new lingerie, jaw dropping open. He’d talk to you about it tomorrow, right now you were exhausted and needed some sleep.
After grabbing one of his more oversized shirts he helped ease you into the fabric, pulling off your headband and setting everything onto the dresser. You hadn’t so much as flinched the entire time, assuring John that you were completely asleep. He headed down to the living room, making sure the other three were settled before turning off the lights. It was fun getting to see everyone dressed up, simply enjoying themselves with good company.
“Thank you, for being the best thing I could ever ask for.” John crawled into bed beside you, pulling you flush to his chest.
You murmured softly in your sleep, wrapping your arms around his waist. There were definitely some things that the two of you needed to talk about. 
Those could wait, for now he would simply hold you and enjoy himself.
tagging: @gaylemonshark @thesinsoflust @dante-mightdie @mh073099
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slickchickchocolatier · 5 months
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Hi Reina!!! <33 what would be Heethan reaction if they were to a mariage and when the it's time to throw the bouquet, reader caught the bouquet? (as you may know that if we catch the bouquet we are supposed to get married) I love you so much you're my favorite writer <33
🦝 anon
oooohohoho this is juicy! I’m gonna answer in great detail!
First off, he’d make sure you both attend a friends wedding with you dressed to the nines, despite you not being the bride. You’re the most beautiful girl in his eyes and even though he has you all to himself, he likes to show you off. ;)
He’d watch over you like a hawk the entire time. If anyone dares to approach and ask you to dance, they’re going to meet an unpleasant end after this wedding.
his eyes are going to watch you with an expression of desire and yearning. You look too good, and he’s going to stand off to the side leaned up against a wall in his tux, head tilted and smirking. he won’t ever be more than 3-5 feet away from you.
you stand among a group of friends, not really intending on participating in the traditional event. You stood off the side and watched all the other girls reaching up and yelling out to the bride, desperate to get their hands on that bouquet.
the bride turns around, her back facing the eager crowd and she closes her eyes and swings her hands over her head. Her lack of coordination and aim caused the bouquet to lapse over to the side and fly directly in your direction. you gently catch the bouquet with wide eyes and a surprise expression. 😲
The girls all pout and frown as they see you holding the large bouquet. It’s heavier than how it looks. You look up at the crowd with your lips stuttering, trying to find the words to calm them.
suddenly, you feel yourself being thrashed away. Pulled at the waist, you’ gasp out your breath and become shook by being taken away from the audience.
Dragged away, everyone stood with wide eyes, just as shocked as you when you slowly disappear. You only see his backside as he continues to pull you through the rows of parked cars, until he gets to his own.
his movements and level of force nearly had you convinced that he was angry. But for what? It wasn’t as if you intentionally tried to catch the bouquet.
he throws you into the seat, before getting in and starting the car. His eyes are stern, he displays no smile and doesn’t say a thing. To make matters even more frightening, he steered the wheel with one hand while he maintained a strong hold on your neck, slightly having you leaned in, facing him, over the center console. “Babe? Heeseung? Please….why won’t you talk to me?”
he keeps his eyes on the road. His silence wasn’t the only thing that was constant, he didn’t bother to look at you the entire drive, only staring dead at the road. Your body halfway twisted as he kept you in close proximity over the center, your rear bed barely touching the seat, you start to feel sore and uncomfortable. Why won’t he say anything? Was he angry that you caught the bouquet without his permission?
the drive finally ends and he quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out, dragging you along with him. You’re in an unfamiliar setting and grow more fearful as he takes you inside a building.
A desk at the front is before you. There stands a lone woman who greets the both of you as you entered. “Hello, what can I help you with?”
“you have a a magistrate available?” His tone is deep and stern, just like his eyes.
“Why yes sir, are you seeking our walk in services?”
He quickly answers, ensuring that you stand behind either his hand gripped around your wrist. He fills out some documents, while the woman comes back to the lobby with the magistrate. “Hello there! What a lovely couple. My assistant has told me you are looking to seal your vows and need your marriage officiated, and that you’re in a hurry?”
Heeseung nods without looking at the minister, who willfully agrees to officiate your ‘wedding’ through a high level of kindness and understanding. “I’ll be happy to do that for you both. Do you have anyone to stand and bear witness to the ceremony?” Heeseung nods once more and just then, the door opens. Six young men enter, one of which was Jake.
“H-Heeseung….” You stutter as he drags you behind him, following the minister. “Heeseung!” You whisper desperately after experiencing his ignorant behavior once more.
He stands you across from him. The pastel beige colored dress served as your bridal gown as he joined his hands with yours, and the minister begins his introduction. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” Heeseung’s hands tighten around yours, and you stand confused and scared. Is he seriously going to make you marry him right now? In this way? What about his agreeing in letting you finish college? Why? All because you bc sight a bouquet?
The minister asks Heeseung to repeat the vows. When it came to your turn, he strategically tugs on your palms, causing you to hiccup an “I do.” Never allowing the minister to suspect the use of force that was present. “I hereby announce you as husband, and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
The six young men all cheer and chant Heeseung’s name as he pulls you by the neck into a passionate kiss. Just as quickly as he brought you in, he took you right back out upon finalizing the rightful procedures and signing the marriage license. All of his friends continue their chant as they trailed behind and followed closely behind you both.
He pulls you back inside the car, holds you by the neck for the final time and pulls you into a kiss. Pausing, he whispers against your pout with a grin…
“Catching bouquets, are we?” He slaps another kiss on your lips. “I thought you wanted to wait until you finished college. Guess you couldn’t wait.”
You tried to object and set the record straight but he wouldn’t let you. He grips your mouth into a full make out. “You know what comes next after marriage baby?”
You shake your head. “Heeseung no…”
“Oh yes.”
His eyes couldn’t hide it. You knew better that this man, while carrying the potential of being a great father, merely only wanted to put his deed inside you to trap you for all eternity, ensuring that you could never leave even if you had wanted to. The thought of marrying him and having his baby was a dream that you wanted to experience the traditional way and I due time, but not like this. “Heeseung no…not like this.”
“It’s so damn cute that you—“ kissing you once again, he pauses as he tucks your hair behind an ear. “think you have a choice.”
Your eyes sting with the tears coming through. “You wouldn’t want to break the traditions of marriage, would you? After all…”
He leans closer. “You’re the one that caught the bouquet. And I’m a man that doesn’t like tie waste time, especially with my pretty wife.” Grabbing on to your thigh, he pulls you into the backseat and crawls onto of you. Grinning darkly, he looks down at you with a taunting smile that took pity on your helpless appearance. “Now, lay there and watch me fuck a baby inside you. I’ll make you into a mommy, make you quit school, and be my perfect stay at home wife and mother to our children. I’ll take care of everything else. You will stay safe and forever be near me. I’m going to watch my baby grow inside you. You’re going to be my perfect soulmate.”
He goes on and on. You see the insanity of his obsession and love for you, and it scares you to death. “I want you to always remember this y/n…you did this to me. You have this effect and made me crave you. This is all your fault and I’m going to remind you every single day.”
Your breath hitches. “Heeseung…it’s not my fault that I was born the way that I am. I never asked for this…for you to choose me. Please take it easy.”
He smirks again. “Oh pretty…maybe you shouldn’t have been born then? Maybe in the next life, you should remember that. But if you still come into the world, don’t worry, I’ll come find you and make you mine again.”
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