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Jon would never admit it out loud, but he had spent many a night thinking about what it would be like to be fucked by Tormund Giantsbane. Fucked raw, fast and hard, being held up against a wall or held down on the bed with the older man’s body crushing his, biting hard into his flesh, marking him for days as belonging to the wildling. Being unable to walk, ride, or sit without reliving the feeling of the hard fuck he received only days ago. Jon imagined being tied up, stripped down, used. He got hard just thinking about it, just imagining lying on a bed and taking it.
Except sex with Tormund wasn't at all how he'd imagined it. Instead of being manhandled and pushed around, Tormund gently leads him to a bed, hands ghosting over flesh, waiting for permission. Tormun d would stand between Jon’s spread legs, his hands carding through black hair, pulling gently at the tie. The older man would kiss Jon lightly on the lips, would pull back when Jon tried to get more.
“Stop teasing me.” Jon groaned. Tormund chuckled, leaning down again, stopping when they were about to touch.
“Tell me what you want,” Tormund asked, hands on Jon’s shoulder, lightly moving down his arms.
“I want you to fuck me,” Jon answered, standing up and pulling Tormund down into a kiss. After the kiss ended, Tormund took a few steps back, crossed his arms and waited. “What are you waiting for?”
“For you to ask nicely,” Tormund replied. “Where are those Southern manners I heard so much about?”
Jon growled in frustration. “Please, fuck me Tormund.”
“That wasn’t very nice,” Tormund replied, walking over to the wine. Jon groaned and followed him, pressing his body right up against Tormund’s back, his hands reaching around to undo Tormund’s breeches. He audibly cursed their height difference as Jon rubbed his cheek against his shoulder blades, begging.
“Please Tormund.” Jon begged, hands slipping into the other’s pants. “Please, please, please, I need you to fuck me.”
Setting down the wineskin, Tormund turned in Jon’s arms, smiling cockily down at his crow. “You beg so pretty, Jon Snow.” Tormund's callused hand made their way under Jon’s shirt, pulling off his clothes till he stood naked in front of him. “Go lay on the bed for me.”
Jon didn’t argue. He walked back sat at the edge of the bed, waiting, but Tormund didn’t move. Jon complained and crawled up the bed and laid on top of the furs. Tormund gave a hum of approval, before he started shedding his clothes.
“Such a pretty sight you make for me,” Tormund told him, walking slowly towards the bed. “I almost want to watch you finger yourself, hear you beg for me to finish you.” Tormund was up against the edge of the bed, dipping against his weight as he settled. “But you’ve made me wait a long time, crow. Now I’m going to take my time with you.”
Tormund grabbed Jon by his legs, pulling the younger man down against him and hitched one leg over his shoulders. “Hands above your head.” Jon complied, bringing his hands up and crossing them at the wrist above his head, arching his back, trying to look as enticing as possible.
“Good boy,” Tormund praised, rewarding him by dragging a finger around his rim. “Such a tight hole you have, little crow. Never used I imagine, a wrapped present just for me.” The wildling leaned down, kissing him, leaving his cock untouched.
Tormund was gentle, fucking Jon slowly with one finger, the other hand having a light grip on his cock. He placed soft kisses along Jon's collarbone, before kissing up Jon's neck and chin untill his lips were against his ear.
"Such a lovely crow," Tormund whispered huskily, rocking his hips against Jon's.
“Tormund,” Jon gasped, as another finger slipped into him. “Please,”
“Please what? My pretty crow,” Tormund teased. “Shall I go slower? Maybe two is too much for you.”
“Don’t you dare,” Jon growled, grabbing Tormund’s hips trying to get the man to go faster, harder.
“Now, now little crow.” Tormund paused his movements, placing Jon’s hands back above his head. “If you can’t keep you hands here, then I’m going to have to find something to tie them up with. That could take some time.”
“Just get on with it!” Jon commanded, getting more and more frustrated with Tormund’s endless teasing.
“Bossy little crow ain’t ya?” Tormund laughed, his two fingers beginning a scissor motion, causing Jon to start mewling and moaning for his cock. “That’s better.”
“Fuck…you,” Jon groaned, as at the fingers went deeper.
“Maybe another night. Now I’m going to fuck you,” Tormund told him. “Once I get you ready for my meaty cock.”
It took four fingers before Tormund thought on was ready. He entered slowly, pushing in gently before pausing and going further in. They followed the same pattern of Jon stretching around Tormund’s cock, before he was fully in. Jon’s eyes almost rolled back into his head, his back arched, hands moving up, wanting to touch Tormund, only to fall back against the bed.
“I want to touch you.” Jon moaned, his hands twisting in the furs and his legs winding themselves tighter, heels digging into Tormund’s ass.
“You may move your hands crow,” Tormund told him, starting to kiss him fiercely as his hips moved faster. It wasn't fast enough in Jon’s opinion. Jon’s hands curled around him, pulling Tormund as close as he could to bite and nip at his lips before kissing down Tormund’s neck and shoulders. One hand tried to sneak its way between their bodies so Jon could grasp his own cock, but a loud growl from Tormund stopped him.
Soon Tormund’s hand replaced Jon’s, wrapping around his cock and pumping at the same pace as his hips. Jon moaned and gasped, panting his pleasure into Tormund's ear. Tormund’s pace quickened to an uncompromising level for Jon and soon they were both spent. They both came with a load roar that could be heard throughout all of Winterfell. Tormund rolled off Jon, stretching out against him. The two laid there catching their breaths before Jon was pulled against Tormund’s chest.
“Go to sleep my little crow,” Tormund commanded, kissing Jon’s temple. “We can go again later.”