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A Game of Thrones Kink Meme
THE GAME OF THRONES KINK MEME
Round 1!
How It Works -
1) Anonymously request a pairing (or threesome, or group - any and all pairings welcome) along with a kink of your choice - feel free to be as descriptive as you’d like. An example of how this should look: "Cersei/Jaime, bondage." Although this is a kink meme, given the disapproval of fic in ( Read more... )
Round 1!
How It Works -
1) Anonymously request a pairing (or threesome, or group - any and all pairings welcome) along with a kink of your choice - feel free to be as descriptive as you’d like. An example of how this should look: "Cersei/Jaime, bondage." Although this is a kink meme, given the disapproval of fic in ( Read more... )
Snow fell in his eyes again and he shook his head to be rid of it. “Get off of me,” Robb said gruffly, warningly.
“Or you’ll…? Whine me to death?”
The heir exhaled through his nose, dropped his head to the forest floor, and turned from Theon. “What is it that you want?”
“You,” Greyjoy ground out, and lowered his chest. He moved his hands down Robb’s arms, applying pressure until he was gripping him by the wrists. “Don’t try to fight me, Stark.” Theon paused, bringing the wrists of his lord’s son above his once more. “You won’t win and you’ll like this.”
Robb shuddered.
He made one last lunge at Theon, grunting and just barely raising his shoulders. Greyjoy put one glove on his throat and squeezed so hard that Robb made a small noise of pain. Theon laughed. “I warned you.”
The wood was hushed and cold and Robb wished he’d told Greyjoy no in the first place, when the other man mentioned an outing. He nearly sighed in relief when Greyjoy chose to let him breathe. The heir swallowed thickly and turned his head, gritting his teeth against the throbbing in his neck. His small victory was short-lived as Theon’s free hand moved from his throat to his trousers.
“Stop… Greyjoy, stop… please.”
Theon was fumbling with his belt again, unable, for some reason, to unfasten it. He silently raised his eyes to Robb’s face, expression unreadable.
“Please, Greyjoy.”
“Stop acting like a woman.”
The sound of jingling metal ceased. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to keep his breathing in check. Stark fidgeted, stretching his fingers and wriggling his wrists. The heir felt Theon lift his hips. “Please, please stop,” he blurted, “Greyjoy, please.”
“Alright.”
Robb immediately opened his eyes in shock. Theon began to lean forward, an arrogant grin plastered over his face. His smile grew wider when he fisted a handful of Robb’s hair and pulled his head up. He kissed Stark on the lips, all dominance and teeth, and the other man felt his ears go red. “Open your mouth.” Greyjoy tugged on his hair, kissing him harder, drawing blood. “Open your mouth,” he repeated, applying pressure to Robb’s wrists. Theon lowered his head again, this time pressing his lips to Stark’s neck and biting. Underneath him, Robb jumped. Theon laughed against his skin.
He turned his attention back to heir’s lips. With his free hand, Theon grabbed him by the jaw, gentle at first but soon becoming crushing. “Open your damn mouth, Stark.” Greyjoy’s hand constricted tightly, uncomfortably around his wrists. “I’ll break your damn wrists if you don’t.” Robb cried out in pain. Theon saw his chance and forced his tongue into Robb’s mouth. He whimpered and blushed, and Theon noted, still tasted like the wineskin. The older man tightened the grip on Stark’s hands until he cried out again.
Greyjoy shifted his weight and slid his knee forward until it was in between Robb’s legs. Startled, the heir jolted backward, away from Theon. The fastenings of his cloak pressed against his neck making small indentations in the tender skin. His hair was damp and cold moisture from the snow accumulated on his face. The other man, with his back to the wind, was much more fortunate. Theon ran a gloved hand over Robb’s cheek, wiping away droplets of water, down to his lips. His thumb lingered over Stark’s bottom lip and he parted them.
The doe-eyed, frightened look Robb wore made something in his stomach clench.
“I won’t hurt you,” Greyjoy said softly, sliding his hand back to Robb’s cheek and bringing his knee back against his groin, “it’s alright.”
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A breath fluttered over his face and the fastening of his cloak was undone, the black fabric falling around his shoulders like a blanket on the forest floor. “It’s alright,” Theon repeated, more to himself than Robb, and gently kissed the trembling heir. His lips parted only when Greyjoy growled and his wrists were crushed. This time, he moaned into Greyjoy’s mouth.
Theon took this as permission to press his knee harder between Robb’s legs.
The heir bucked and a fistful of his hair was grabbed. He could feel Theon’s own arousal against his hipbone. A long way away, a twig snapped and Greyjoy crushed Robb’s mouth with kisses. Robb gasped, relief flooding over him like sunshine, when Theon shifted to straddle him. He felt disgusted, absolutely repulsed by himself. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’s alright.” Again. And again. “It’s alright, don’t be frightened.” Greyjoy sat back on his heels, dragging Robb’s wrists forward. Stark couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. He bit back a scream. Something was definitely broken.
“Please,” he pleaded weakly, “Greyjoy, please.”
Theon moaned.
Robb first felt the cold dance like lightning across his lower abdomen and then Theon’s hand slipping into his trousers. Greyjoy gripped him roughly, kneading and making Robb thrust into his hand.
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