Summary: When Sansa and Jon go on a special vacation, they can’t keep their hands off of one another.
WC: 2.1k words
Warnings: Modern AU. Public sex. Influencer AU. Teasing. Flirting. Fluff. Established relationship. Teasing. Influencer Sansa x Professor Jon Snow
masterlist
Jon placed the second poached egg very carefully on top of the small stack of beet pancakes, sprinkling oregano on top of it, skipping pepper. Sansa didn’t like it.
“And two muffins...” he spoke slowly, taking the prettiest of the lemon cakes on her plate.
Sansa adored lemon cakes, made to melt in the mouth with each bite, with a touch of cinnamon and beautifully soft. He had perfected the recipe to her very taste and adored seeing his sweet Sansa tasting it and moaning around it happily.
He lived for this, pampering her and making her smile.
His thoughts are interrupted by an impatient call from Lady, and he turned to see their pups staring at him from across the kitchen, and she was very comfortable with protesting loudly for the both o them.
“I am quite adept in many things but controlling time is not one of them,” he reminded them, walking to the oven, and the chicken was still cooking while their boiled eggs cooled down.
Jon covered the pan up, and checked the temperature of the oil in a different pan, and set the thermometer aside, putting the sweet fingers in carefully and stepping back, and Lady hit the gate with a paw more, protesting as she walked away from him and into the balcony, no doubt to complain to Sansa as Ghost followed her.
His eyes widened when he remembered why the two were with him and not with her.
Sansa was recording! She had asked him to keep them distracted.
Jon turned off the stove, ready to run to grab Lady, but he was a little too late.
“Oh, hello my puppies!” Sansa cooed.
He looked and she was bending and petting her in her new bathing suit.
Puppies. Lady and Ghost were wolves, bigger than the two of them. But yeah, they were their puppies.
“Did daddy feed you yet?” she scratched Ghost’s ear. “Why are you so cranky?”
Oh.
He hadn’t seen her in this suit yet.
His whole face felt warm.
“They know their breakfast time is at 8 am,” he tried to save himself, scratching the back of his neck.
He stayed out of any view from her phone, perfectly positioned to show off the pretty suit.
“Are you cranky 'cause you have to wait?” she cooed. “What impatient puppies. We should have breakfast, right?”
Sansa looked at him, and Jon grimaced.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised.
But his sweet Sansa smiled to him.
“It’s alright, I’m done,” she told him. “We should it, right? Do you two want to eat?”
Lady’s tail wagged in agreement.
He raised his eyebrows at the sight of Sansa's face, and she was wearing full make-up already, and he squinted at her.
“I’m going to take it off to put on sunscreen,” she told him quickly. “Don’t worry.”
Jon shook his head, walking back to the kitchen, and it was right on time to take the fingers, and he put it on the rack and fried some more, taking the dog’s chicken to check on it. Yes, it was done.
He set the meat on their plates and under a fan to cool it down, slicing their eggs.
Gods, they spoiled them so much.
“And your food,” Jon took Sansa’s plate, pushing it to her.
Her eyes went big in excitement.
“Are those lemon cakes?” she asked.
He smiled.
“I put some extra… ingredient,” Jon taunted her. “The bakery lady told me that was their secret.”
Sansa beamed, and his heart swelled with pride.
When she reached for it, though, he held her hand right away, raising his eyebrows and pointing at his apron with a single finger.
Kiss the cook.
His sweet Sansa giggled, shaking her head.
“You can ask for a kiss!” she protested.
But Jon feigned surprise.
“Ask?” he asked. “Oh, no, no, I am simply referencing the rules set by this apron you yourself gifted me. It would be wrong-” but he interrupted himself, raising a single finger. “No, it would be outrightly improper if we were to ignore the rules set-”
Sansa shut him with a kiss on his lips, and Jon smiled as he held her by her waist, leaning a bit onto the table.
She cupped his face, running her fingers over his beard and giving him little pecks before going back to her well-earned food, and he was satisfied enough to go back to his cooking.
Lady and Ghost were glaring very angrily at him as he finished frying the sweet fingers, and he set them aside on some paper towels before moving to their chicken, and it was cool enough to be good, and he used his fingers to slice them up, mixing it with the eggs and pouring some fruit portions on their plates as well.
They both followed him as he placed their plates – one in each room, it was best that the wolves didn’t see the other eating and didn’t feel like they needed to be protective of their meal.
Ghost chased him as he made his way to his corner, nosing his leg and pushing Jon as he went to the corner he had adopted in the vacation house, and he shook his head.
“I know, I know,” he tried to appease him. “But I have it, see?”
Jon put his plate down, and Ghost went right into eating, and Sansa giggled.
“This is so good,” his sweet girlfriend moaned as she chewed, and he took his fingers, the sweet honeyed sauce and his plate to go sit with her in the kitchen. “These cakes are so good.”
His ego swelled right away.
“I made many of them,” he told her, sitting by her side. “You can have more.”
Sansa parted a lemon cake with adoration, squeezing it in its fluffiness.
“So soft,” she praised. “And those pancakes, Jon!”
Jon let his eyes drift. She was happily filling herself up, he could already see her belly showing it a bit. He was always eager for this moment when he could get his girlfriend full of happy food, not worrying about what people would think if she put on a kilo or two.
Sansa once worried too much about everything. It was his duty to give her a guilty-free life.
Besides, a belly full of good food was the best way to start the day.
“I hope you got some space left for the sweet fried fingers,” he showed them to her.
Her eyes gleamed.
“I always have space left,” she grinned.
He ate happily, ducking the fried treats into honey listening along to as she started explaining what she had planned for their trip.
“I found us a perfect hidden spot by the beach,” Sansa told him. “I already set the AC for the pup’s liking, and their toys, all we need to do is put their favourite shows on before we leave and the pee pad is in the shower.”
Jon looked back at Lady as she came back to the living room. Oh, their spoiled pets.
“We’ll come back home to wash off from the salt, and then we will go walk around the plaza,” he dipped her pinkie into his honeyed sauce, licking it.
“Do you think you can take a few shots of me looking at little trinkets?”
“Of course,” he agreed, licking his fingers from the sweetness.
His sweet star created online content. She even had a sponsor for sunscreen!
When he looked at her, she was just looking away from him, and while her makeup hid her cheeks, her ears were all pink in a flush.
His fingers were still in his mouth when he noticed it, and he held back a smirk.
“Something you like, Sansa?” he teased her.
She flushed down to her neck and stood up quickly.
“Nope,” she squeaked, taking her plate and mug and walking off into the open kitchen, absolutely flustered.
Jon let her be for now, just finishing his food and cleaning the plates before walking in with a Lady to their bedroom, where Ghost already was and saw Sansa taking pictures of and with the sponsoring sunscreen.
He didn’t know a lot about the internet world, and when she told him about her job he couldn’t quite understand it, but he loved her passion anyway.
She loved entertaining people and had made it into her work. It was admirable.
He watched her as she finished with the photos, waiting quietly, and she placed her camera on a ring light again.
“Time put it on, my star,” he reminded her.
“O course,” she confirmed, plugging her phone before hopping off the bed.
Jon watched her wash her face with a smile and he used the moment she was drying her face to kiss her cheek.
He pulled her closer when her face was dry, and she giggled when her started kissing her face all over.
When Sansa had her whole make-up thing going on, he didn’t get to kiss her face, so he took every chance he got!
She just held onto him, practically sitting on his leg as she leaned back, making her shoulders free too.
“Sunscreen,” Jon reminded her, pulling back. “Come on.”
Sansa skipped to the bedroom and he sat on an armchair and Lady jumped to his lap as she star started filming herself applying the sunscreen to her face, and Jon tried not to grunt.
Oh, they weren’t the lap pups they used to be – but Lady didn’t quite remember that.
“Look at this,” she spoke to him. “Jon, it doesn’t have a white cast.”
He frowned.
What now?
“White cast?”
She glanced at him and raised her neck, spreading it on it to show off to the camera.
“It’s when you get white from sunscreen.”
He frowned a bit.
They could take that away?
She leaned a bit and he tilted his head at the sight of her sweet ass.
Fuck, this woman…
He could bury his face between her pale legs right there and then, just push her to lean onto the drawer and devour her.
Jon was so distracted her voice made him jump, startled.
“Darling?” she called, looking at him. “Can you do my back?”
Darling.
Sansa was very private with her life, she didn’t show Jon nor the wolves online – which was great, because he didn’t like the idea of their little family being public either. To her little fans, he was just a hand.
He freed himself from Lady and walked to her, and took the sunscreen from her hand, putting it on his own and moving to stay just out of frame so just his hand was in the video to spread the cream on her freckled shoulders and upper back, though he did need to move closer to do so on her lower back.
“Turn around,” he requested, kneeling in front of her, the video not relevant anymore, and she giggled.
Jon spread the sunscreen on her belly and hips very happily, enjoying every bit of touch he could give her.
“I can see your hair on the camera,” she hummed, running her fingers over his hair. “Can I keep it?”
He smirked.
“Do you think your fans will think you are getting eaten out while getting the sponsor’s sunscreen on?”
He looked up at her face, and she went pink.
She reached to her side to turn off the video.
“Jon!” Sansa squeaked. “You can’t say that.”
He just kept laughing, standing up as she moved to get to her phone and check for something, and spread sunscreen on his hands before pushing her bikini top and freeing her sweet tits, rubbing sunscreen on them and earning another gasp.
“Jon!”
He raised his eyebrows teasingly, looking at her through the big mirror on the wall, rubbing her skin and pressing his thumbs to her pale nipples to really, really put the sunscreen there, very important. The skin of the nipples was very delicate and sensitive.
She whimpered out adorably, leaving her phone on the dresser.
“Jon,” she whined.
Sansa leaned against him, arching her chest up, and he kept rubbing her pretty pink nipples, tugging on them, pinching and massaging them.
Oh, his pretty little influencer, in her tiny little bikini.
Her hands reached for his as if she could stop him from playing with her like he wanted to, and let out the prettiest moan.
“Oh, no, sweet Sansa,” he cooed into her ear. “Are you getting dirty thoughts? I’m just putting some sunscreen on your pretty tits.”
Oh, his sweet girl - she could cum like that, he had seen it.
He had done it.
She moaned just about at the same time Lady let out a bark, nosing his leg, and he out to find Ghost on their bed already, waiting.
Oh, those brats.
“Fine,” he grunted. “We’ll put your cartoons on.”
Their spoiled wolves.
He pulled Sansa’s top back to place, and kissed her cheek.
“Come on,” he called her. “You’ve planned a whole day. We can’t let it go to waste. We need to get our things and I haven’t even put on my sunscreen yet.”
Jon stabilised her, and then stepped back, taking the sunscreen too.
Well, hopefully, it was a good one.
Sansa cleared her throat.
“Yeah,” she agreed, practically squeaking. “We’ll do that.”
…
“Hot by the Beach” was posted on my Patreon in August 2024. To read it fully now and have early access to everything I do, subscribe to my page. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.
…
Next chapter: Chapter 2 — Coming to Tumblr on the 29th of January
Kinktober Prompts: Incest, Mutual Masturbation, (light) Orgasm Control
Summary: Someone has been stealing Sansa's panties so she comes up with punishment. x
Pairing: Jonsa
Word count: 2819
Tags/Warnings: Half sibling incest, dub con, mutual masturbation, no penetration, blackmail, dirty talk, light femdom, the sub tries to take control, panty stealing, panty sniffing, naked male/clothed female, Jon embracing being a pervert.
Note: This was edited by me so all mistakes are mine. This is also my first time writing in years and my first kinktober prompt. Please do not upload to any other site or use for AI. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
Minors and Haters DNI!!!!!
MDNI banner by@cafekitsune and lace divider by @dollywons
Someone has been stealing Sansa’s panties. Since it was mostly her old pairs that went missing, she didn’t catch on until she was digging around her drawers. She was looking for a pair of red panties that matched her sexy Red Riding Hood costume. Her whole friend group were going to go as fairy tale characters to Margaery’s Halloween party. With her red hair and family’s work with wolves, Little Red Riding Hood was an obvious choice for Sansa. She wanted to look sexy now that guys were legally allowed to buy her alcohol so she needed those red panties she knew guys would be able to see under her mini skirt.
Sansa had worn the red panties a few weeks ago, on a date that ended early. It was so long and boring, she crashed on the couch as soon as she got home without bothering to remove her makeup, much less her clothes. This meant it probably ended up in her siblings’ rooms during laundry day. Sansa tore apart the house, tearing through her parents’ and siblings’ closets. When her theory was disproven, she came to the different conclusion that one of Robb’s friends must have been stealing it and laid out a trap.
She laid a trap in the form of a nice pair of purple panties on her laundry pile by her bedroom door. On her dresser she hid a camera aimed to catch the thief. Rather than finding Theon Greyjoy or one of her brother’s other bonehead friends stuffing his pockets with her panties, Sansa’s jaw dropped when she saw it was her half-brother, Jon. She watched as the camera captured him looking down the hallway before putting the pair in his pant’s pocket. From there, Sansa could only imagine what he did after he locked the door to his bedroom.
The next day while the whole family was out, Sansa snuck into his room. It was pretty easy to find where he’d hidden her underwear. He had a small room where his only real furniture was the dresser by the door and his bed pressed against the wall. She searched through the drawers in his dresser and his bedside table. His bed was pressed against the bedroom wall so she crouched down to look under it. A brown shoe box was also the only item in the room that wasn’t black so she pulled it out for closer inspection. She opened it up and found all of her missing panties. An old pair of ‘Thursday’ panties, a plain green one, a white one with a scalloped hem, a plain black one, the planted purple pair, and the red lace that started it all. Some of the found items seemed to have stiff stains on them. Heat filled Sansa’s cheeks- it was one thing to think about what Jon was doing, it was another to have evidence of it in her hand.
A devious plan takes over her mind and Sansa slips one of the missing panties on. She then lays in Jon’s bed, over the covers, waiting and waiting until Jon got home.
Jon arrived home about fifteen minutes later, his grey eyes growing large when he saw his half sister on his bed. He was about to ask what she was doing before he froze. His box of trophies were open by her side. Sansa glanced at his hand which held a rubber wolf mask with the store tag. Did he really think he was a Big Bad Wolf? She almost laughed but covered it up with a smirk. She would be the wolf here.
Jon quickly shut and locked the door. No one was home but he didn’t want to take the chance someone would still hear them.
“Sansa, I-I can explain,” Jon stutters out, trying to come up with a lie. “It’s not what it looks like-“
“Why your box of jerkoff material is full of my panties?” She interrupts, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Jon has nothing to say in response, his mind searching for a way to deny the truth.
“Take your clothes off,” Sansa says, sitting up. Her legs dangle over the side of his bed, her back flat against his wall.
Hesitantly, he swallows and obeys. In all his fantasies he imagined she was the submissive one, not… whatever this was. Then again, Sansa was always pretty Type A. It was unrealistic for him to hope his sister would submit to him so easily.
She watches as he unbuckles his leather belt and lets his pants and boxers fall to the floor in a loud ‘thump.’ Jon’s faded black band shirt comes off next, thrown across the room in an undignified pile. Her half brother stands naked in front of her, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight and his muscles accentuated by shadow. His bare chest is shaved clean but Sansa notices his dark happy trail leading down to his cock. He’s half hard already and the patch of dark hair around his cock makes him look longer than any of Sansa’s exes. She can also appreciate the veins along his shaft.
Sansa opens her legs. Even in the dimming light from the setting sun, Jon can see the panties he stole peeking out from under her dress. His cock twitches. The red lace calls to him like a wolf calls to the moon.
Sansa, on her end, can feel the way the fabric reacts to her body. It was a bit small on her, a consequence of buying it before she started doing squats, but it felt even smaller in front of Jon. When she sat up, it rode higher up her ass. Now the seam is positioned right over her clit, rubbing against it in the most teasing way. The now wet fabric clings to her pussy in response. It wasn’t a thong but it still feels far too lewd to wear in front of her half-brother.
“I want to watch,” Sansa says. She takes off her panties and tosses them at Jon. It hits his chest for he is still frozen in place. “Show me what you’ve been doing.”
Jon is frozen but an arched brow from Sansa has him scrambling to pick up the lacy undergarment from the floor. He presses against it his nose and inhales. She already caught him, he may as well embrace his pervertedness. When gives the red lace a quick lick, he tastes her and knows she’s embracing hers.
His hand wraps around his cock and Sansa is positive both of her hands stacked on top of each other couldn’t cover his full length. She swallows, imagining what it would feel like inside her.
“Come closer,” She says, her eyes never leaving him. Sansa leans back against his wall to watch. “Kneel in front of me.”
Jon drops in front of her, between her spread knees.
Sansa recalled learning of some ancient civilization where they believed a large cock created barbaric men who dominated villages and women. Seeing her brother on his knees in front of her made her want to laugh at those philosophers.
Jon moves his little sister’s panties out of his vision so he can look at her pussy and sniff her panties at the same time. The visual and olfactive stimulation is almost too much. He watches as Sansa’s hand travels down her body. From her plush lips to the curve of her breast, against the waistline of her dress until finally it touches her pretty pink pussy. Suddenly Jon is grateful to her manicurist for choosing a bright red nail polish to act as an arrow to Sansa’s pussy.
Sansa thinks she is far too wet from the sight of her half-brother jerking off in front of her. But she can’t help it. Not when he looks like this. His pupils are blown wide as he keeps his eyes trained on her. As soon as she starts touching herself, Jon’s hand quickens and his tongue darts out to get another taste of her panties. Sansa feels a little breathless seeing his precum begin beading at his tip.
Jon completely pulls the red lace away from his face. He lets out a sharp inhale as he wraps the lace around his cock. Sansa’s clit begins throbbing and her stomach tightens now that she can see his face clearly. His handsome features appear dark as they focus on her pussy. Her head falls back as her fingers match the same pace as Jon’s hand.
Jon crept closer to her, his head now mere inches away from her. Oh what he wouldn’t do to taste her from the source. For weeks he had fantasized about his little sister. He dreamed of her pale thighs on either side of his lap, her clothed sex rubbing against him as she whimpered into his ear. He dreamt of peeling her panties off with her teeth and licking her from the source, his large hand on her stomach to keep her still. He dreamt of her pussy against his face, of him grabbing her hips to make her rock back and forth against his tongue. Again, in all of his fantasies, he was always the one in control. Still, he found that any world with Sansa in his bed was always a nice one. Even if he wasn’t in bed with her.
Sansa’s other hand begins grasping at her chest. Even when clothed, the thin fabric does nothing to stop Jon’s arousal as Sansa squeezes her breast. If anything, it is even more erotic to see her breasts heaving the tight fabric, nipples poking through. Her eyes squeeze shut as her thumb and pointer finger pinch her nipple. Her right knee bends close to her chest, hiking her skirt around her waist, and Jon can finally see her entire pussy in the moonlight.
Fuck, he’s weak.
“Sansa,” Jon chokes out, the first thing he’s said since this whole thing started. “I’m about to cum.”
“No,” Sansa’s blue eyes shoot open and she stops moving. Fuck, she almost forgot this was a punishment for Jon. “Not yet.”
Jon groaned but nodded and Sansa shoves him backwards with her sock covered foot.
“Move back,” She commanded, looking him in the eye. She couldn’t see his cock anymore. She wanted to watch him cum.
Jon scooted back until Sansa could see him again. “Keep going.”
Jon pretends not to hear, choosing to focus on his breathing instead. His stomach is tight and that little bit of pleasure keeps threatening to push out of him. He has to regain control of the situation.
“Keep going,” Sansa repeats as her hand continues its movements.
She never knew it could be this fun to be in control in bed. Bolts of pleasure steadily grow in power as it races from her nipple to her wet cunt. The fabric of her dress was thin enough for her to feel everything she did to herself yet it still didn’t feel like enough. Sansa can feel herself getting closer and her hand rubbed counter clockwise around her clit even faster. She couldn’t help the whimpers falling from her lips. She opened her eyes as she watched him.
Their eyes lock as they watch the other. They sit in silence for a while, their movements falling into a matching rhythm.
“Why did you start stealing my things?” Sansa asks, breaking the silence when she notices Jon’s nose flaring just a little. “Jerking off into my panties.”
Jon slows his hand as he thinks of how honest he should be. Fuck it, he decides, she already knows.
“Do you know how hard it is to watch you prance around the house in those outfits? Know what color panties you have on?” Jon’s rough voice comes out. His grey eyes lock onto her blue ones. He was turning the tables on her. “Not even just those belts you call skirts. It was those fucking pajamas.”
As much as Sansa liked dressing up for parties, she also enjoys wearing old, giant t-shirts to bed. Some of those shirts being Jon’s old garage band tees from when he was in high school. They were her favorite because age made them so soft and thin in a way no other shirt was.
“Every time you walked around in one of my old shirts, I wanted to just push you down and fuck you right then and there.” More precum spills out of his cock and Jon strokes himself faster, emboldened by the blush appearing on Sansa’s cheeks. “You would drive me crazy when you bend over to look at the dvds for movie night.”
“But my tipping point when you fell asleep on the couch after that date,” Jon growls at the memory that started his bad habit. Those red panties. “You had kicked your blanket away and your whole ass was out for my personal pleasure. It drove me so wild I didn’t even feel guilty when I went through your laundry.”
“I should’ve fucked you right then and there instead.” Jon lowered his voice. “I bet you would’ve loved to be woken up on your big brother’s cock.”
Sansa shook her head but Jon noticed her fingers circled her clit even faster now.
He got her.
“Yeah, your big brother would’ve taken good care of you,” Jon was delighted anytime he found a-still-wet-stain on Sansa’s panties. He loved to lie it on his face so he could lick and sniff it all up while he stroked himself. “Now that I know you taste fucking delious, I would’ve moved your panties to the side so I could lick your sweet little pussy. Then once you were nice and wet- like you are now- I would slide my cock in.”
Sansa’s eyes flashed down to the cock in his hand. She saw imprints of it before, when he would walk around the house in sweatpants. Margaery had been over once and giggled about how much of it she could take before tapping out. Seeing it hard and leaking before her, Sansa doubted the brunette could take even half of him.
“I would have fucked you for as slowly as I could, for as long as I could,” Jon told her, dark curls falling in front of his eyes. “But I’m already addicted to your pussy without touching it even once so I don’t imagine I could be gentle for too long. Especially not when your tits look the way they did in that dress. I would have had you wake up cumming on your big brother’s cock.”
As if on cue, Sansa’s back arches and her mouth falls open in a wordless scream. Jon watches the euphoria flood her senses. She wasn’t a screamer, Jon observed, but her thrashing movements made it easy to see she wasn’t faking it. Her body shook before him, her breasts bouncing tantalizingly under her dress. Her right leg kicked as if she was trying to get away while her left planted itself on Jon’s bed. She continued to hump against her hand, eager to ride it out. At the same time, the pleasure became too much for her to bear all at once so she pulled her hand away to halt the pleasure. Jon still sees the way her blue eyes roll to the back of her head and the way her pussy keeps squeezing around nothing, eager to have anything fill it. Jon wonders what it would feel like for her to cum around his cock. He also wonders how she would react if he overstimulated her. He would have to try it next time.
For now, it was Jon’s time to finally cum. He drops Sansa’s red panties on the floor and aims his cock over it. Sansa watches him with half lidded eyes as he cums. Jon’s abs flex as he finally lets go, his face falling onto the mattress as he soaks her panties with his ropes of cum. This is the hardest he has ever cum in his life. Sansa wishes she could see his cock as he came but watching the face he makes made it all worth it.
On shaky legs, Sansa stood up and Jon found himself face to face with her knees. She plucked the cum covered panties from his lap. Jon watches, tired and aroused, as she slowly puts on the cum soaked panties in front of him. His cum smears, trapped between her bare pussy and the red lace. He feels his cock jump before she straightens her skirt and hides the view from sight.
“Margaery is having a party on Saturday,” She said, looking down at him. “I’m going as Red Riding Hood.”
She walks to the door, kicking his wolf mask back to his still kneeling figure.
“Clean up this mess.” Sansa says and, without another word, walks out of Jon’s room.
Honestly the lack of Wolf themed smut is surprising. I can imagine Sansa being embarrassed to wear wolf ears and tail at first then totally being into it and trying to get Jon to wear ears and a tail as well. Also its their house/family sigil and they should express some pride while making more Starks.
The Final Chapter, Chapter Sixteen of The North Remembers now posted on AO3!
He looks out onto the ruins of King’s Landing. There are candles in windows now and fires glowing in the distance. He can hear some faint laughter to his left, and distant singing far away to his right. People have gathered in the city, and it seems they are in high spirits.
High spirits despite years of war and bloodshed. Years of starvation and hopelessness. Years of corruption and manipulation. They waged war against death itself. And at the end of all, they still can laugh, and sing, and dance. He smiles to himself. That. That, is the true victory.
“Jon?”
He turns around to see Sansa in her nightclothes, holding her small bump, her long red tresses bathed in moonlight. Just the sight of her makes his heart swell. She yawns, stretching her hand out towards him.
“Come back bed, my love.”
Read it here:
**Winterfell **A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms Pt 1** AKOTSK Pt 2**
**The Battle of Winterfell** Family, Duty, Honor** The Starks Will Endure**
**What Is Dead Will May Never Die** ** Hearth, Heart, and Harvest **
**We Stand Together** **Trust None of Them** **Lightbringer**
**Hear Me Roar** **Valar Morghulis** **Valar Dohaeris** **Ours Is The Fury**
Part of The Strange Case of Dr Stark & Mr Snow series (more will be coming when I shake off the lethargy of my bad phase and start writing again)
For @jonsadungeonsanddrabbles KinkWeek 2020 Day 5: Exhibitionism
AO3 tags: Victorian era AU; Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde; Benjen adopted Jon; married Jonsa; though Sansa got more than she bargained for; but she’s up for the challenge.
Historical notes: for anyone who cares, the Perseus statue is a fairly good copy of Perseus with the head of Medusa by Benvenuto Cellini, without the panels in the base.
‘wag-tail’ is Victorian Era slang for a promiscuous woman or sometimes a dissolute man.
The Hightower’s ball was an absolute crush. The retiring room held and regurgitated a steady stream of ladies, gentlemen gambled for increasing stakes in the card room, and the buffet had been refreshed once already. The ballroom glowed with golden light from the chandeliers, and the music flowed from the string quartet’s instruments like water.
Sansa Stark was no stranger to scandal, but dancing exclusively with her own husband was raising more than a few speculative eyebrows among the grand dames.
“Jon, what are you thinking?” Sansa asked warily. Something in Jon’s gaze had become suspiciously dark, harkening something that should really be kept inside their own house. Or least places without witnesses.
“Joffrey Baratheon keeps looking at you.”
“We’re at a ball, Jon, lots of people are looking at me,” Sansa pointed out evenly. She snuck a glance at her husband as she turned under his arm; to her dismay, the waves of his close-cut hair were already tightening into riotous curls.
“Not like this. I think I’ll grab a toasting fork from the fireplace in the card room and shove it into his throat.”
“You will do no such thing.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Jon was growling, now; Sansa had to defuse him quickly.
“Because if you do that you’ll have to spend hours explaining yourself to the police and you won’t be able to bed me until at least dawn.”
Several bars of music went past, as Jon considered that. “That’s a very good point. When this dance is through, go into the gardens. I’ll meet you there.”
“Why not come with me?”
“I want to see if Baratheon follows you. If I kill him out there I can roll the body into the fishpond and the police won’t bother us.”
Sansa bit back a sigh. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to sacrifice this gown in order to distract Snow - it was a favourite of hers. But she really couldn’t let him go around killing men for looking at her lustfully. Even if it was generally agreed that a world without Joffrey Baratheon could only be a better place.
As the music came to an end, Sana gently curtsied to her husband, then bent her head to murmur to him, “I’m only going so far as statue of Perseus. Meet me quickly or you won’t be allowed to touch me at all in the carriage on the way home.”
There – that should reorganise his priorities.
The cold night air was a slight shock, after the heated ballroom. The gardens were more brightly lit than the ballroom by the full moon, clearly showing Sansa’s path as she walked quickly to the statue of Perseus, his head bent and eyes closed, his face serene as he brandished the head of Medusa high in the air. She sat on the stone bench next to it’s pedestal, and calmly waited for her husband. The furthest wing of the ballroom was visible from her perch, golden light spilling from all the windows, and she watched another set of figures whirl on the dance floor.
“There you are,” rumbled from behind her.
“Is Lord Baratheon still alive?” Sansa politely enquired.
“Given that I stopped him from following you out into the garden, barely. I hope you’re prepared to compensate me for the loss of that satisfaction.”
Well, at least Snow was articulate and speaking clearly tonight. Jon had explained that degradation of Snow’s speech patterns was a dangerous sign. Much as Sansa enjoyed this hedonistic, heedless aspect of her husband, she had no intention of losing the gentlemanly scholar she’d chosen to marry, long before he’d created a certain sparkling green potion.
“Is that not our agreement? I will satisfy your lusts in any way you desire, and you will confine those lusts to me alone?”
“I think we’re beyond bargains, Mrs Stark. Why don’t you start by sucking on my cock? It’s already nice and hard for you.”
Sansa turned sideways on the bench to find Snow looming over her, wild curls tumbling nearly to his shoulders and beard shadowing his jaw. The mixture of untamed man and exquisitely formal suit was devastatingly arousing. Sansa felt heat pool between her thighs as she reached for the fly of his trousers, distorted with lust as Snow had promised. A moment’s work freed his hard manhood, and Sansa bent her head to run her tongue along the length of throbbing flesh. An approving growl echoed above her head, and Sansa responded by taking the tip deep into her mouth and sucking hard.
“Take all of it,” growled the beast that dwelt inside her husband.
Sansa obeyed, skilfully taking in his sizable erection into her mouth and down her throat until her nose pressed against the black cloth of his trousers.
His organ vibrated as Snow chuckled, and Sansa’s eyes rolled up to meet his in enquiry.
“You can see into the ballroom from here, did you know that?”
Sansa quirked her eyebrows. Of course she did.
“That piss-ant Baratheon’s standing in the windows looking out at us.”
Sansa’s eyes flickered to the side, noticing how brightly the silver moonlight lit up the gardens, and realised that it must be clearly lighting their figures as well. The thrill that shuddered through her was only slightly of horror.
“Like that thought, don’t you?” Snow diagnosed accurately. “You like the thought of that shitstain watching you suck your husband’s cock.”
She did, actually. She really did.
Sansa’s passion mounted as she sucked harder, using her tongue to tease and rub the rod of muscle to further hardness. Let her former suitor see comprehensively what he’d missed out on when he tossed her aside, leaving her reputation in ruins. Let him see why there was no chance in any of the Seven Hells that she’d ever venture outside of her marriage to the man who’d saved her social standing and restored her to respectability, and shown her a world of respect, caring and learning that she’d thought was only the province of fairy tales. The man whose dark side had taught her hungers and satisfaction that she’d only heard of in clandestine whispers.
Snow’s balls were throbbing, and Sansa grinned recklessly as she let his erection escape her mouth. “Then why don’t you show him how a real man treats his woman?”
Snow threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Aye, my beautiful wag-tail, why don’t I?”
He took her hands in his and pulled her to her feet, bringing them both to the end of the bench. Licking his lips salaciously, he ordered her, “Turn around.”
Sansa did so, positioning herself so that they were both in profile to the ballroom windows. Snow reached around to unhook her bodice almost to her waist, reaching in with his left hand. Sansa moaned as his hand delved beneath corset and chemise to cup her right breast, squeezing her hard nipple between two of his knuckles.
“Like that, don’t you.”
“You know I do.”
“Now lift your skirts good and high for me, and bend over.”
As Sansa carefully gathered layers of skirts, petticoat and chemise in her hands so as not to wrinkle them too much, she again wondered what she might become if she asked her husband for a dose of the apple green potion he’d dubbed Original Sin. After all, the very first time Mr Snow had appeared, he’d ripped and sliced her drawers from her body, and ordered her to never again wear clothing that impeded his contact with her quim. No matter how mortified Jon had been the next morning, how he’d begged her forgiveness for his shameful use of her for his lusts... Sansa had not worn drawers a single day since.
Sansa bent forward over the bench, supporting herself on one arm, the other still holding her skirts bunched at her hips. She wondered if Snow could see her womanhood clearly in the brilliant silver light, see that she was wet and aching for him. She gasped as he filled her, his initial thrust swift and deep, her quim thrilling at the shock of his invasion. His shadow engulfed hers, swallowing the white stone of the bench as he bent over her, and Sansa gazed down into the darkness as he set a rapid pace, barely withdrawing as he rolled his hips to bury his cock in her molten core again and again. His hand dipped back into her bodice again, grasping and squeezing the flesh of her breast, and Sansa braced herself against the bench with both hands, the cold stone heightening the hot rush of being fucked. Snow’s other arm was around her waist, the unnatural strength of his bestial aspect matching the beastly lust he slaked with her body. Slaking the lust he sparked within Sansa herself.
She no longer cared if Joffrey was watching. She no longer cared for anything but the grip on her breast, the hard cock pumping in and out of her randy quim, and the growing tension between her thighs, building and building until –
Sansa moaned helplessly as she climaxed, all but hanging in Snow’s iron grip. Her quim convulsed and clenched, and Snow snarled as he unleashed his seed, gushing like lava inside her.
Sansa’s head whirled with pleasure, until she felt the touch of cloth on her now-empty quim, delicately cleaning up the excess juices of their coupling. The hand on her breast had been withdrawn, though the mound of flesh ached satisfyingly, and would probably be bruised tomorrow. As her skirts were carefully pulled down and tugged to hang correctly, Sansa stood up, and turned around. Her husband stood there, moonlight falling across his cleanly-shaved jaw, his hair short and almost-straight again... and blushing wildly.
“Um, are you quite alright my love?”
“Oh, yes, darling,” Sansa reassured him as she fastened her bodice. “That was really a very good orgasm.”
Even though he’d been the one to teach her the word orgasm and what it meant, Jon blushed even brighter. “Well, I’m glad of that. But that’s not what I meant.”
Sansa smiled lovingly. “I’m quite alright. I think we’ve satisfied our social obligations for the evening; why don’t we go home so you can take me to bed?”
Even as she spoke, Sansa was filled with longing for just that – Jon his shirtsleeves, bowtie hanging undone around his neck, dismissing her maid to undress her himself. Sweeping her up in his arms to carry her to the four-poster bed, settling her onto the sheets. His hard-muscled body sculpted by candlelight as his own clothes dropped to the carpet. His dark head between her spread thighs as his mouth caressed her womanhood. His worshipful touch as he made love to her, soft as rose petals whispering against her skin.
“Oh, yes,” Jon exclaimed. “I’ve had more than enough of society. Let’s refuse all callers tomorrow and give the servants a day off. I want no company but yours.”
So Sansa nodded her agreement, took her husband’s arm, and headed home to bed.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Summary:
Jon and Sansa play a drinking game after the War for the Dawn. Sansa is sure her feelings for Jon aren't reciprocated, but Jon’s actions seem to say differently. Is it just the alcohol, or something more?
*****
This fic is great. I love smiling & laughing Jonsa. Its what they deserve. What they also deserve, is this amazing smut. This fic just makes make happy. While reading it I couldn't stop smiling.
