Note Worthy

For one thing, Daeron knew you liked him far better. To be fair, your options were quite limited. It was either him..or you know. One would choose the drunk than the man whose troubling rumors have reached your ears. Besides, Aerion always stood a little too close. Touches always lingering, even reaching for the necklace at your throat without asking. He never tore his eyes from you, staring at you with open desire.  

Daeron was truly no better. He would offer you a seat beside him. It was your small refuge from a certain person. He makes a jest one or two. But he too stared a little too long, a little too intensely. And it was there where Aerion noticed something he should have seen quite a while ago. His brother wanted you as well. How could he have missed it? 

Daeron only looks up when he felt it. Aerion’s glare from across the room. There was a brief moment of exchange that said a hundred words. Daeron turns his gaze to your face again as if nothing happened. He leans closer, lips almost brushing near your ears to whisper something. You chuckle politely and when Daeron glances up again; Aerion was gone.

There were no words to describe Aerion’s fury at the realization. His brother, of all people, of course it had to be him. Aerion corners you the second he finds you alone, pressing you back against the cold stone walls. “Did you fuck him?” So blunt you didn’t even have a second to gather your thoughts. His eyes almost look crazed, you swear you haven’t as his fingers dig into your arms. Even if it had only been a kiss. Even if it was merely a kiss on the cheek. Aerion wouldn't have it.

You are his, he has already said it. You will choose him. Anything less would be a betrayal. And Aerion utters the same words to Daeron, he makes no attempt of civility or subtlety. Telling his brother, he will do what he does best, move along and “lay in the mud” as he always does. Daeron does not rise to the insult, “Yours?” he asks mildly. “I don’t recall you ever formally declaring your courtship to her. Father certainly does not know.”

Aerion tightens his jaw, biting back a retort. “So is she truly years,” Daeron continues, “When she has so many suitors waiting in line?’ “Are you one of them?” Aerion demands, cutting to the chase. Daeron hums, pretending to consider even when they both know the answer. “Well she prefers my company far more than yours, brother.” Aerion’s hands curled into fists at his side. For a single moment, he looks as if he’ll strike him and perhaps he nearly does.

Daeron is not stupid in all of this. There is no way to come out of this unscathed. He knows Aerion can be quite the monster. He’s reckless, destructive, willing to ruin him and everyone else if it meant having you. Hell, Aerion may destroy you himself if you dared to reject him. The better choice is to just hand you over to Aerion. 

But the thought makes him ache more than he cares to admit. There will be a day where you wed his brother and he’d have to see you bear his children. Forced to act indifferent at the feasts and suppers you shall attend together. Left pondering what could have been. Left to lie awake at night imagining what your lips would feel against his. No, that decision would be his very torment. So Daeron does something most unexpected. He approaches Aerion not as a rival but as a brother; proposing an arrangement that would satisfy them both. 

One cannot imagine your bewilderment as you are taken nudged along into a hidden chamber by the two brothers. Aerion stands before you while Daeron lounges in the seat beside you. “You will have me,” Aerion demands. And the way he says it as if it’s an order, as if you can’t refuse. Daeron coughs under his breath and Aerion pauses just briefly clicking his tongue against his teeth, “You will have us,” he clarifies. Daeron’s hand hovers over yours briefly before letting it rest there, “We both want you,” he says. 

Aerion demands an answer right away, he doesn’t want a flick of hesitation or doubt. Daeron’s hand moves to your face, a thumb brushing your cheek. “Just accept it,” he murmurs, “We will not harm you.” It's not a decision you can just walk from, not here, not alone with just the two of them. If Aerion had you alone, it would be suffering for you and for Daeron. If Daeron had you alone, Aerion would never allow you to live in content. And to reject them both? What were you left to do then accept the offer.

Daeron allows his brother the privilege of claiming your maidenhood. He won’t fight him on that, for he shall have you countless nights after. And Aerion is all the eager to ravish you. He’ll hand you right back to his brother’s arms. But what a shame his brother won’t be the first to gaze upon your bare skin. Won’t be the first to touch your tender nips till they stiffen under his touch. 

Won’t be the first to sink his fingers between your legs, to discover the slick heat. Won’t be the first to know how tightly you feel around him as he fills you to the brim as you helplessly cling to his shoulders. When Aerion spills inside you, he grips your hips too tight to bruise. You are left taking your breath, his seed mixed with a little bit of your blood damping your thighs and the sheets below. “My brother will have to content himself with what little remains.” 

When it’s Daeron's turn, you’re already exhausted. Watching as he unfastens his clothes, his bare body lies next to you. He takes you in his arms. And Daeron kisses you, his tongue prods the crease between your lips before his mouth enveloped yours. Your lips were dry, your throat aching with the way Aerion made you cry out. His fingers slide down to the entrance between your legs – you whine a little too loud. It's so sore down there from how Aerion ravished you and you are also quite embarrassed to find yourself still aroused. “Look at you,” he chuckles against your lips, “you got it in you for one more.” His fingers move in and out of your cunt.

His lips move to leave hot open-mouthed kisses along your skin, from your warm cheeks to that sensitive side of your neck where a mark already resides from his brother. He pauses to suck on it gently and you can’t help but hiss. And then he pulls his fingers away and you whine at the loss of touch. Daeron moves down your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses down from the valley of your breasts to your belly until he reaches between your legs. His eyes lock into yours as he settles your trembling legs over his shoulders. 

Then his mouth is on your cunt, your body jolts but the prince holds you in place. His tongue moving up and down your walls, lapping at your cunt as if you were a fine meal. Already sensitive and overstimulated, you came quickly, crying out his name as your thighs clenched around his head. Daeron moans at the taste of you. He rises, knees resting on the bed, stroking his cock a few times before sliding it between your legs. Pressing you down with his body, leaving you caged against the mattress. Daeron rolls his hips slowly at first, resting his forehead on yours, his breath coming in harsh pants before he quickens his pace. 

Aerion still persists with his “she is mine” declarations. Even when Daeron has claimed you more times than one can count. Aerion’s jealousy is one of a dragon; an all consuming fire, showing in the days he has you. Covering your body with love bruises and bite marks. But Daeron simply kisses Aerion’s little patterns of evidence tenderly, “You would think my brother was a hound with how he goes at you,” before still taking you all the same. And on the days Aerion has you after, he knows which are his and which belongs to his brother. The hickies on your inner thighs, the marks on your breasts when Daeron sucked them. Aerion is quick to try to cover them with his own. 

As said, Aerion cannot be subtle even if he tried. He can’t stand to see you entertain any company, even his brother’s. Daeron uses his older son status to have you sit beside him at feasts. Aerion merely glares at you both from across the table. It's the few moments Daeron allows himself to poke at the dragon. Risking to plant a light kiss against your neck when no one's looking. And then his fingers lift your gown just enough to slide them between your legs. You gasp, softly grabbing his forearm for support, the very arm that belongs to the two fingers burying itself in your heat.Biting your lip to hold back the moans threatening to escape, squirming in your seat. When you glance back at Aerion, you see he hasn’t torn his eyes away not even once. Not even when Daeron brings you to your release, thighs trembling as you bite the inside of your cheek till it bleeds to keep from crying out. 

Aerion takes his revenge soon the moment the three of you are alone. Aerion orders you to sit on his lap. And when you hesitate, worried a guard or a servant might walk in, or anyone in the matter. “I won’t say it again. Sit.” Daeron is on the other side of the lounge with a wine in hand, staring at his brother with curiosity. The second you are on his lap, Aerion immediately pulls you in for a kiss. His tongue demands entry; plunging it inside your mouth to tangle with yours in a messy dance. Aerion unlaces himself, releasing his cock into the open, placing your hand there. You know what’s expected of you. Wrapping your fingers around him, moving up and down. Aerion can’t help the groans that sound muffled against your mouth. His eyes lock with Daeron’s over your shoulder, who seems to be in a trance. Not tearing his eyes from the sight before him.

The brothers have taken you in all sorts of places. There is not a location in Summerhall left unscathed. It’s a miracle how their father hasn’t caught on to all of this. From the many sneakings to each other’s chambers. To the lovely lakes at Summerhall where you and Daeron drunkenly jumped in nude deep in the night. Where you then made love on the ground at the water’s edge, the soft grass underneath as you clumsingly wrap your legs around his waists; both of you giggling breathlessly between kisses. Having to wash again after to erase the evidence of your coupling activities. 

Or the gardens in an area where the bushes are big and plentiful providing just enough cover. Where Aerion has you bent over, your hands pressed against the tree trunk. Moans and groans can be heard if one walks back by. As he pulls your rear back to meet his quick punishing thrusts. You cling to the tree, fingers digging into the rough bark.

Or one of the storage rooms; was it for armory or healing supplies? You couldn’t recall, not when Daeron’s face was buried between your legs. Soft moans released from your lips as you hold into whatever shelf is behind you to keep yourself upright. The other hand clutches his sandy brown hair, pulling him closer to your mound as you ride his face.

Or Aerion pretending to walk you late at night to your chambers, but he had seen you entertain some foolish lord and just couldn't wait. Dragged underneath the stone staircase where it’s dark. Aerion hastily removes his trousers and you know to hike up your skirts and open your legs. His thrusts are rough and harsh, driven by jealous fury. At some points, he slows when he hears someone walking up or down the stairs above you. He clasps a hand over your mouth but Aerion doesn’t stop. He keeps moving while your eyes stare at him wide with fear of getting caught.

It’s not often that the brothers share you but when they do it’s just as overwhelming as one can imagine. Daeron is typically content to be the voyeur. He’ll drink from his cup as he watches his brother thrust into you, cock so deep inside as you throw your head back. The sounds of moans, of skin on skin can be heard throughout the chamber. Daeron sometimes pulls you in for a kiss, his mouth tastes of sweet wine as he swallows all your pretty sounds. At other times he’s content suckling on your breast, taking your nipple into his mouth. Meanwhile, Aerion is between your legs who, like his brother, is a messy eater. Your arousal drips down his chin as his tongue drags against your sensitive folds. 

Unlike Daeron, Aerion doesn’t stay content being a watcher for long. He sits for a few moments before he is out of his seat. Whether it's Daeron’s mouth on your clit or his cock sliding in and out of your cunt, Aerion is already reaching for your hand to wrap around his length, making you stroke him. He even urges you to suck his cock, guiding your head towards him. And he’s eager to take his brother’s place when it's done, almost shoving Daeron aside to slide his dick inside you. Mixed with his brother’s seed and your release, easing in it is so much easier, He mocks Daeron for eating you out after, but Aerion would be lying if he claims it didn’t arouse him to see his brother kiss you with those same lips, sharing the taste of all of them.

When the brothers decide to penetrate you at the same time, it’s because Aerion was too impatient to wait for his turn and just wants to bury himself inside you. Your mouth and hands do so little to satisfy him at this moment. There you were, riding Daeron, both of you lost in pleasure. Your face buried in his neck, his hands on your waist holding you as he rolls his hips up to meet yours. Aerion approaches from behind, his hands groping your ass kneading the flesh before spreading you apart. You feel the blunt blunt head of his cock pressing against your other entrance, jolting forward with a gasp. It’s all too much. You didn’t even think this was possible, being filled so wholly. Tears prickle from your ear, but Daeron shushes you with a deep kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth to muffle your sobs. Aerion slides his cock all the way inside, each inch feeling tortuous. Aerion stops for a moment, maybe his own way of giving you mercy to adjust. 

Then he starts moving his hips, slowly at first, then faster. The slap of your ass meeting his pelvis mixing with the wet sounds of Daeron’s dick sliding in and out of your gleaming folds. You and Daeron share loud moans between desperate kisses. Already so sensitive, you’ve already reached your peak, crying out between them. Daeron follows soon after. Whimpering as you feel his cum fill up your throbbing cunt. Still, Aerion hasn’t reached his release, continuing his harsh pace, chasing his own pleasure. Your moans sound so broken at this point, voice growing hoarse. Daeron beneath you can’t hold back his whimpers. Sounds escape Aerion too. At how tight you feel. Gods, it's as if you were made for him. For both of them. When he finally cums, his body falters, almost falling over. Taking deep breaths laying his hands on the mattress at either side of Daeron’s head, sweat beads trickling down his forehead, before he pulls away.

Aftercare isn’t exactly their forte. Aerion doesn’t bother with it much. His way of doing it is just a bath with the two of you. Where he does make you ride him, if he is still in the mood which is often. Leaning his head against the tub as he guides your hips to move up and down on his cock. The water sloshing over the sides. Daeron on the other hand just lays content for a bit. His eye peeking at you from the corner as you bring a wet rag to clean the mess down there. He’ll let you cuddle to his side after, if you wish. For Daeron, it’s easier to slip away. Everyone is used to the prince going missing more often than not, so at times he just stays in your chambers until morning where he must slip away before your servants come in. 

Besides the many days and nights spent with you in passion. They care for you in their own ways. Aerion loves to spoil you despite this whole arrangement being a secret. He just can't help himself, Daeron jests. As Aerion gifts you jewelry or fabrics that seem to match the colors of his house. Daeron has gifted you a lovely bangle once and he tries not to show his content when he sees you wearing it in front of everyone. 

At feasts, Aerion always asks for your first dance. Seeing the look on his face when he knows he must give you up for another man to dance with. When you’re too tired, sitting down when everyone is too distracted with wine and with one another. Daeron will slide next to you, holding your hand from underneath the table. When feeling bold making sure no one’s looking, he’ll press a quick kiss to your palms. He does move away when his father gives him a questioning look. 

As said, most days they each take their own turns and sometimes they respect the agreement. Sometimes. Times with Aerion walking in the chambers already removing his brooches and unlacing his shirt, “Move over, you’ve had her for hours now,” he’ll say. Only for Daeron, who shows no sign of moving replies with, “And you, brother, had her this morrow, the day before, and the day before that.”

In rare moments they have a truce. Aerion has you lying on his side, an arm over you. His hand on your waist and when he’s feeling cheeky will slide a hand down to grope your ass. Most of your lower body lays over Daeron, where a hand rests on your leg, sometimes sliding his hands further up your legs to make you squirm. The two brothers in those rare moments of peace, talk of matters such as their father, the tournaments or feasts being planned, the lord that made a fool of himself today or demand kisses from you on occasion. 

Both brothers share a streak of jealousy and frankly, Daeron is willing to let Aerion do all the work. It makes it so much easier for him. He lets Aerion be the one to shoo away all your suitors, bribe and scare them away. And it's not beneath Daeron to mock anyone who tries to woo you in front of him, all in good jest, of course. The talks of marriage had been brought up between the brothers but they let it die down. Westeros only allowed one exception and that was Aegon the conqueror. Even Maegor the Cruel paid for such acts. 

Aegon was not really known for being devoted to anyone. Many knew him as a hedonistic prince and king, plus if you asked The Blacks they'd say he was a usurper to the Iron Throne. Not many saw him as responsible or dedicated.

While Aegon did in fact sleep around due to his hedonistic desires, there was only one person who truly held his heart. Aegon may be able to pull whoever he wants when he wants... but there's only one he always returns to. It was as though they had him on a tight lead...

That person was you, his spouse, the one he truly loved most.

All it took was your sweet words and touch to send him to his knees. It was almost amusing. He's a king, one meant to rule all the realms, and yet you're capable of making him dependent on you. Everything from your smile to your taste was enough to drive the king into addiction.

Aegon couldn't bear the thought of living without you, his precious spouse. In private. he clings to you like some neglected child. Perhaps that is due to him actually being neglected in his childhood.

With you, Aegon felt genuine love... genuine connection... and he'd never share it with another soul. You two were bound by marriage. Even though he knew you could never leave him, that you wouldn't, he still feared the thought.

You could read him like a book, the man was a mess when it came to you in private. Like now, you sat with him in your shared bed. The king held you close like he'd lose you if he didn't... who knows what the public would think if they saw him now.

"I love you..." He whispers softly, leaning in as you cup his face with a smile. Even if he goes off on hedonistic trips... you're still the only one who can make him feel vulnerable. He used to hate such a feeling... but now it feels... comforting.

"You are the reason I live." Aegon whispers the words in a desperate tone, leaning close and kissing your lips. The king huffs in annoyance when you pull away, a grin on your face. In response he cups your cheeks to kiss you again.

For the most part, your relationship was mutual. You originally did not enjoy being married to the king. He was a hedonistic brat, one who felt entitled to anything he wishes.

However... with time... you adapted to such a role...

Allowing you to make him crave you... and give you the control you yearned for.

"Can you... promise me something...?" Aegon whispers once pulling away, eyes glimmering in desire when he looks at you. You look at him and hold his chin.

"Yes, my husband?" You whisper in his ear, seeing the king shudder at your breath.

"I want you to submit yourself wholly and only to me." Aegon whispers, pulling you closer. "I want you to promise you won't run, to promise you won't abandon your king."

You can see desperation glint in his eyes. His gaze is dark, pondering the idea of you indeed leaving him. Despite this... you manage to distract him once again with a kiss on the forehead.

"Then I promise." You whisper back. You knew the dark desires your husband had. You knew he would level villages if it meant keeping you beside him. You liked that power... so you'd use the king regardless of if you loved him or not.

"Really?" He asks you, appearing to wonder if you genuinely loved him.

"Of course, Aegon." You answer, nuzzling yourself into his chest.

Aegon goes quiet for a moment, looking at you before smiling softly. The dark glint is still in his eyes but you knew that was just how he was. Aegon was always possessive of what was his.

"Good..." The king hums, flipping you so you are under him. "Because I will never let you leave me."

You merely nod and hold the king close, allowing him to melt into your arms. The idea of bringing a king to his knees makes you... pleased.

You liked the feeling of control... you both even got what you wanted...

Ah, yes, Roose Bolton... an opportunistic traitor who has an odd association with blood.

Not only that, but the Bolton house is infamous for what they do to their enemies.

Flaying.

They're known for it to the point of their House banner being a flayed man.

That alone is terrifying and I haven't even made this man a Yandere yet.

Just by what I've said so far, I can confidently say you will be seeing blood.

So much blood.

When it comes to Roose Bolton, I imagine his obsession would be a Stark or any House supporting Robb.

For example, maybe you are one of the oldest Stark children.

You were adamant on following your mother and brother into this war.

You even offered advice to Robb the best you can.

Which occasionally irritated Roose, as Robb would listen to you more than him at times.

You never really trusted Roose.

He was always too quiet and cruel for you, but you held respect for him because he was one of Robb's generals.

You have good reasons to not trust him, honestly.

We don't talk about how Ramsay came to be.

I personally feel a Stark obsession would create the most drama in this situation.

Roose originally doesn't pay you much mind, just another Stark blindly following their family through rebellion.

It's not like he hates you, really.

Robb gets on his nerves at times due to not listening to his advice.

Yet you're a... behaved wolf pup.

You may not enjoy his presence, but at least you listen to orders.

You may not be as cruel as him, yet you try to find a middle ground with your brother.

You've admittedly caught his interest.

Granted... Courting barely exists when it comes to Roose Bolton.

He's a cruel man who cares little for honor.

He just cares for strengthening his House and his own needs.

You're cautious of him, yet still naive.

In that sense, you remind him of your brother.

Your brother, Robb, is too trusting.

Roose noticed this as a rift began to form between them.

He trusts him enough to be his general... but won't listen to Roose's advice.

Roose finds your loyalty to the older wolf amusing.

You think he's going to succeed in his little rebellion.

Roose doesn't feel bad when he speaks with the Lannisters about betraying the Starks.

No, in fact, he has plans for you.

But before then, Roose tries to make a connection with you.

He can practically smell your discomfort when you two speak.

You're a smart wolf, sensing inevitable danger within Roose.

He commends that... A useful and cute trait to have.

Although... Too bad none of your fellow Starks have it.

The Red Wedding is one of your worst days in Roose's obsession... yet it's Roose's best day.

You're the only one spared that night, by Roose's order.

Everyone knows you shouldn't piss off a Bolton, meaning you're left unharmed...

Physically, that is.

The Red Wedding is a night you're forced to watch your mother and brother die.

In fact, you witness Roose stab your brother in the heart, a grin on his face.

You even see a Frey slice your mother's throat.

You're too frightened to scream or cry.

There's so much blood.

The sight is pleasant for Roose's eyes, many know of his love for blood and torture.

You can't find the words to speak....

The blood of your mother, your brother, and so many others covers your clothes and skin...

It covers Roose too, you swore you saw him take a lick or two.

You're only snapped out of it when Roose approaches, ordering those who follow him to tie your wrists in chains.

You're the only survivor of The Red Wedding.

By this point, you're clueless as to why Roose kept you alive.

But you have your ideas.

The Freys find it curious that Roose Bolton kept you alive, a hound leashed like a proper dog.

However, they don't bother pushing your execution.

If Roose wants you as a prize, so be it.

Instead of Lady Walda as his chosen partner... He picks you.

Or maybe, he has Lady Walda as his own for politics... and you for sadistic desire.

It would not surprise me if he simply took two partners.

You despise the idea... but how can you fight?

By the time you're brought to the Dreadfort, you've seen flayed men.

You don't want to end up like them, do you?

Roose makes you his loyal little lap dog.

All other Starks shall die, but you're his hound.

He's taken a liking to you, and while he beds his new wife for heirs, he attends to you for other reasons.

Roose may even tease you, saying you'll go home to Winterfell soon.

Except, Winterfell will be under Bolton rule by then.

Soon you're forced to witness Ramsay Bolton become Lord of Winterfell... While Roose becomes Warden of The North.

What do you get?

To be a dog to Roose.

Roose even seems cruel enough to taunt you once Winterfell is under Bolton rule.

He asks if it feels good to be home.

All the while he rubs your head, petting you like you really are a dog.

Winterfell may have once been your home... but it's been a long time since then.

With Roose Bolton keeping you close, it feels even less like home.

You are not the only Stark forced to listen to the Boltons.

Depending on the media you choose... You'll see either Sansa or "Arya" (Who isn't really Arya).

But since I'm more versed in the show currently, you see Sansa.

You're two Starks stuck in similar troubles.

She's forced to wed Ramsay, while you're meant to entertain Roose.

However... It appears you're better off, based on how Roose treats you compared to Ramsay and Sansa.

Roose is possessive and controlling, often giving you commands to follow.

Since The Red Wedding... It feels like you've been on autopilot.

You keep seeing the deaths of your brother and mother.

Now you're forced to watch Sansa be mistreated by Ramsay.

Meanwhile, Roose makes you sleep in the same bed as him.

His wife refuses to protest, she already knows what a Bolton can do.

It's often an awkward event when you sleep... Roose's wife facing away from Roose as Roose faces you and holds you close.

When his wife isn't around, Roose is biting your flesh until he draws your blood.

He enjoys lapping at the substance, all while you disassociate from the situation.

However, there's times he'll hold you in his lap and display what seems like affection.

You can never tell if it's true.

Is it really even a mercy when Roose is killed by Ramsay?

Now Sansa and you have to deal with Ramsay.

It scares you more when you witness Ramsay kill Roose's wife and child.

Yet another family torn apart by a Bolton in your eyes.

Honestly, when Sansa kills Ramsay, it's only then you feel free.

You only feel free when you hug Sansa close and reunite with your surviving family... The Boltons may be gone now...

Ownership and Power - Feyd loves to dominate, and the feeling of being in control is something he craves. He loves the idea of having you belong to him, and being able to give and withhold affection or pleasure as he sees fit.

Sadism and Masochism - Feyd really likes to push your limits, both in terms of pain and pleasure. He enjoys the feeling of having you completely submit to him and the power that comes from being in charge.

Teasing and denial - Feyd likes to toy with your emotions, such as teasing you with the promise of potential reward, then punishing and denying you.

Restraint - Feyd enjoys using various methods to restrain you. This can be as simple as using rope or handcuffs, or more creative options like a collar and leash.

Humiliation and Degradation - Feyd also enjoys humiliating and degrading his partner as a way to assert his dominance and control. This could be anything from name-calling to public humiliation.