gtmod
in
gameofkink
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... )
'Bastard,' Robb snarls, and then slams their mouths together.
Jon whimpers into what can really only be termed a kiss in the loosest possible manner. It's tongue and teeth and spit and Jon knows that he will regret this when his lips are chapped from overuse in the freezing cold of the Wall, but for now he wants to be slammed down on the bed and he wants to be called bastard and he wants to made to feel as filthy and disgusting as he knows he is and he wants, he wants - 'Oh, gods' - he wants.
Robb's tongue invades Jon's mouth because he knows Jon will always allow it, keening up into the taste of soot and red meat and snow like some needy slut, and he can feel it driving Robb wild - literally feel it, as the hard weight of Robb's cock presses against his thigh. He knows Robb will make him beg, and he knows he'll comply.
Clothes come off, one annoying, unnecessary piece at a time - though they mostly come off Jon and not Robb, who only removes his boots and his coat and his overshirts, but leaves his breeches and his undershirts, whilst Jon lies under him, naked as the day he was born. Both of their cocks are hard now, desperately so, Robb's out of his breeches and Jon's flat on his stomach, leaking pre-cum into the trail of hair that leads from his navel down. He wants to touch it, he needs to touch it, but he won't do anything until Robb tells him to do.
So he lies there, on the creaky single bed that's only fit for a bastard, and his legs are spread apart shamelessly, and he knows that he probably looks every bit as whoreish as he feels - but although the warrior Stark in him hates everything about this and is aching to punch Robb in the face and flee, the bastard Snow that he truly is stays put.
'You --' Robb begins, and he's knelt back on his heels, positioned between Jon's spread thighs. His eyes lap up every centimetre of exposed skin - Jon feels himself squirming just under the touch of his eyes, like somebody's poured boiling hot sand down inside of him and he can feel every burning particle as it cascades through. He feels uncomfortable in his own skin, uncomfortable under the gaze of his half-brother, and he can't stop his hips from writhing wantonly.
A Northern breeze finds it way under the crack at the bottom of the door, and goosebumps decorate Jon's bare flesh. 'Hurry up,' he whines, and it's a mistake as soon as it's said.
Robb's hands slam down upon those squirming hips and Jon cries out, thankful for the touch and pathetic with the pain. Times like this he sees why some people are born noble, and some people are born bastards.
'Did you just tell me to hurry up?' Robb demands, bearing down over Jon, who is genuinely frightened beneath his half-brother - who is shaking his head with baby deer eyes and who's putting his hands on Robb's biceps in some attempt to calm him down. It doesn't work.
'Did you -- ' he repeats, hissing like a mad man, breathing heavy like a mad man, 'Just tell me -- ' he grabs Jons' hands and and puts his wrists up behind his head, holding him there, 'To hurry up?'
Jon doesn't know what to say - doesn't know if he should say anything at all. Robb's grip on his wrists is like steel and he couldn't get free even if he wanted to, even though Robb's only using one hand to pin both wrists down.
The other hand invades Jon's mouth brutally, two fingers between Jon's lips and he gags instantly, keeping his eyes fixed on Robb because yes, he's a little slut, and yes, he knows how Robb likes that. He gets his reward when Robb's eyes flash with lust and, okay, maybe he makes something of a show of it, gagging a little bit louder than he usually would, allowing some of his saliva to dribble out onto his chin.
Reply
His tongue travels up to Jon's ear, and he sucks at the lobe for a brief moment, his fingers still inside of Jon's mouth - until all of a sudden they're not, and Jon doesn't think he'll ever get over how fast Robb can move his hand from one place to another. There's a familiarly uncomforable intrusion around his ass - a tickling finger around the tight ring, and Jon doesn't even try to hold back the throaty, animal groan in his throat.
'Oh you like that, bastard?' Robb purrs, and his breath is fire-hot against Jon's ear, his skin is fire-hot against Jon's skin. He pushes in the first finger and Jon rises up to meet it, nodding and whimpering pathetically.
'Yeah, I know you do,' Robb continues, all predatory and posessive in voice as well as in action. There's a second finger and it isn't enough for Jon's tangible lust, and it's as if Robb can read his mind. 'Not what you really want though is it, mmm? This isn't enough for you - you could do this yourself, couldn't you, hmm? And I bet you do, don't you - oh, Gods, bastard, I bet you fucking do -'
Jon nods his assent, cheeks colouring, because he does do this to himself, sometimes, when Robb is somewhere fighting and when the village whores aren't enough. It's his most shameful moment, tossing and turning through the long nights until he can't stand it anymore and he spits on his fingers and forces them inside himself, stroking his cock with his free hand and longing for his brother.
'I bet you think of me, don't you, bastard? Do you think of your noble brother when you finger fuck yourself?' Robb demands, no longer with his mouth against Jon's ear but now looking down at him instead, faces only centimetres apart as the third finger stretches Jon open. He's too momentarily distracted by the finger to say anything, too busy crying out with the delicious agony of it all, and it isn't good enough for Robb.
He withdraws his fingers quickly, and uses his now free hand to pull one of Jon's legs up over his shoulder, before letting it join his other hand where it holds Jon's wrists down. 'Answer me!' he barks, and Jon rolls his body upwards. He can feel Robb's cock against his ass, and he rubs against it shamelessly.
'Y-yes,' he manages to pant, though it's a miracle he can make any sounds at all with his mouth this dry. He swallows hard and looks up at Robb, who manages to look miraculously composed in comparison to Jon's heaving chest and sweaty skin. If it weren't for the wilderness of his eyes, Robb looks no different. He's beautiful. 'Yes,' Jon repeats, matching Robb's gaze with his own, 'I think of you.'
Reply
Jon has no idea how Robb's even managing to think about that now - his own head feels like it's on fire, and he's so desperate to be fucked that the coldness of the Wall seems like something from another planet. But he nods all the same as Robb's shaft slowly eases inside, slowly stretches him out. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks that, yes, he probably will continue to think of Robb at the Wall, but in truth he'd say anything now to get this man to pound him into the mattress. 'I will.'
Robb nods. 'Yessss,' he says, 'Yes I know you will. Because you're mine, aren't you, bastard? You're my slut, my disgusting little bastard slut who wants nothing but noble dick.'
Jon gasps softly, his back arching up towards Robb. They've always talked this but never quite so explicitly, and it's so deliciously degrading that his eyes nearly roll back in their sockets. He can do nothing but nod, because as much as he'd like to speak Robb is moving now, rolling his hips in outrageously languid strokes that don't coincide at all with the filth spewing from his mouth. His grip on Jon's wrists is painfully tight.
'Look at you,' he says, as Jon thrashes his head from side to side, rolling his hips up to meet Robb's movements, desperate to get more of him, 'Desperate for it, aren't you? Because this is the last time - you know that, don't you bastard, you know that I won't be there on the Wall to do this to you, and you want something to remember me by, yes? Am I right, bastard? Am I right?'
It didn't even occur to Jon before but now, yes. Yes. 'Yesss,' he whines, 'Yes, please -- please, please -- '
'Please what?' Robb asks, stilling the movement of his hips - how he has such restraint Jon will never know - to lean down in a teasing manner, as if he can't quite hear his brother.
'Please -- ' Jon begins, then swallows hard, 'Please -- please, m-m'lord, please just - just fuck me, please, please just use me, m'lord, please -- I want it -- I want your -- I want -'
And apparently that's enough for Robb, because the next noise that comes out of Jon's mouth is a cry of the most blissful pain he's ever experienced as Robb's self-restraint finally breaks, and he's suddenly slamming his cock in and out of his brother. Every single movement threatens to wrench Jon in half, and he's dizzy with the pleasure of it as he feels inch after heavy inch penetrating him like a master uses a slave. They'll wake the whole castle at this rate but Jon doesn't give a shit, because this is the last time, the last time that he'll have Robb pounding into him, getting faster with every single piston of his hips, driving deeper, like he'll never quite get deep enough.
Jon's desperate to touch his cock and so struggles with the hold that Robb has on his wrists, but that only seems to turn Robb on more as he laughs this malicious little laugh and bites down on Jon's arm, tightening his grip and picking up the pace of his thrusts.
'I want to make you come like this,' he growls, and though his vision's hazy Jon can see the ferocity of his eyes and the part of his lips and the way his hair curls with the sweat on his forehead. 'Like a girl.'
Reply
And he comes like that, on his back, like a girl, without a single finger to his cock. White light explodes in his vision as his eyes roll back in his head, and it's as if the whole expanse of the Northern fields are there, snow-covered behind his eyes. Robb is still moving inside of him, a blur of lightening-fast thrusts to prolong Jon's exquisite agony, and then he's coming too, and Jon can feel every spurt inside of him, deep inside of him, and he groans and clenches his ass and he's a mess, they both are, as they ride out their orgasms together.
Waves of pleasure wash over him with every thrust that Robb makes, slowing down now until it comes to a complete stop, and the intensity of Jon's climax is like a ringing in his ears. He becomes gradually aware of the things around him and the things that he is. He becomes aware of the loosening of his muscles as Robb's softening cock slides out (and he becomes aware of the uncomfortable sensation of that liquidy substance following it). He becomes aware of the weight of Robb on top of him, still except for the rise and fall of his chest, in perfect time with Jon's own breathing. He becomes aware of Robb's hair tickling the side of his face and he nuzzles into it by instinct, breathing in the smell of sex and sweat. He becomes aware of the stickiness between them, and of his own laziness to do anything about it at all. There's nothing in the room but them, the bed, the half-packed suitcases, and the moonlight that streams in through a half-opened window.
Robb lifts his head to look down at Jon, who looks back up at him. 'Do you have to go?' he asks, all suddenly vulnerable, nothing like before.
Jon is quiet. Then he nods.
Robb lets go of his wrists.
(aaaaannndddd DONE!)
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Can I get you a direwolf as a present for christmas?
Reply
UM, LET ME THINK ABOUT THAT FOR A MOMEN-YES.
Reply
Just motherfuck.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
brb need to fan myself, that was smoking hot
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment