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nessataleweaver · 6 years

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The Strange Sanctuary of Sansa Stark: And Life is Like a Song (fanfic)

(Fusion with The Curious Creations of Christine McConnell) It's been exactly four years since Jon stumbled into Sansa's home, and four years since he claimed her as his mate. Sansa's trying to bake an elaborate cake to celebrate, but Jon has something else on his mind.

For @jonxsansafanfiction Love Songs event 2019: Day 3

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/tags: Au – modern with magic; Muppets meets Addams family; family life; smut with feels; blue and orange morality; vague dom/sub themes; getting caught by the kids; Jon the Wolfman; implications of bestiality; Sansa just loves Jon for EVERYTHING he is, okay?

NOTES: This is actually a sequel to my Day 5 entry! (shrug) That’s the way the Muse goes, I guess. For that reason, this won’t go up on AO3 until I’ve got the first entry in the series ready to post as well.

For those who’ve actually watched Curious Creations on Netflix, Sansa fills Christine’s role (obviously), though I’ve pumped up her role to have supposedly minor magical powers. Rankle is… well, Rankle. (A mummified Cat brought back to life by Sansa, once worshipped as a God in Ancient Egypt) Lady substitutes for Rose (created out of four different species, then raised from the dead, Frankenstein-style); instead of being mainly a raccoon, Lady is mainly a Husky. Both can speak, just like the show. Jon is a combination of Edgar and Norman (without the ritual serial killer tendencies).

At last, the skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped in clover

Ever since the night I looked at you

And I found a dream that I could speak to

A dream to call my own

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill I'd never known

At Last – Etta James

It was a perfect morning.

The skies were blue with just a few fluffy white clouds to make the blue pop. The air was warm without being hot.

Sansa's fingers itched with the need to bake, to create something sweet and beautiful. There were so many things to celebrate today.

She had a beautiful yet sturdy house full of pretty and eerie things she'd created. She had a heart tree in the backyard so she could pray to the Old Gods and Bran could come visit her whenever they like. Which also provided lovely shade so the babies didn't get sunburned.

She had Rankle to chat to and toss quips back and forth with. She had Lady, her greatest creation, to cuddle and go jogging with. She had Milly living at the back of the refrigerator to hand her things, and Bernard lurking in the basement and making sure the small mystical convergence there didn't become a nasty Hellmouth.

And four years ago today, a miserable beastkin stumbled through the front door, desperately in need of a place to shelter. It was exactly four years since he claimed her as his mate, and Jon regained his human skin.

Now Sansa had a beautiful man by her side and a passionate lover in her bed, and a devoted beast to patrol her perimeters at moon-dark. She had two children almost as beautiful as their father.

Sansa tapped her fingers on the kitchen counter and wracked her mental recipe files. What could she bake, to celebrate this most special day?

Well, obviously a cake. She had several sheet cakes in both vanilla and chocolate waiting in the chiller to be sculpted and frosted... but what shape? She'd made a replica of their house for Jon's welcome party four years ago (plus monster eyes and mouth, of course) and it had been a huge hit. She didn't usually repeat her creations, but maybe today could be an exception?

Sansa was wearing her blue sundress with the flared skirt and buttons all the way down the front (Jon's favourite), but she didn't bother with an apron. The only one she had that co-ordinated with this dress was in the laundry basket, and besides, even without her powers as a Hearthwitch, her baking skills had long ago evolved beyond needing an apron.

Humming merrily, Sansa brought out two of the large sheet cakes, one chocolate and one vanilla, first cutting them both into two square cakes, then cutting each in half horizontally so she could add jam and buttercream to make them stick together properly and add to the flavours.

In the middle of setting out bowls to mix the fillings, Sansa heard a shuffled step behind her, one that she would always recognise. She turned, and her heart gave a tiny skip, the way it always did whenever she saw Jon after more than an hour apart. He was just so gorgeous. Black shoulder-length curls, well-trimmed (by her) beard, with snowy skin and smoky grey eyes. He wore his usual stretch skinny jeans and loose shirt, in case he needed to transform into his beastman form unexpectedly. It did hide his deliciously sculpted torso, but one couldn't have everything in life.

Since Jon was meant to be nocturnal, he usually wandered around the house or transformed and went hunting after she fell asleep. Then he'd join her in bed to wake her up in the nicest way, then drop off to sleep himself as she dressed. It was a good arrangement that let Jon get in his howling time and Sansa get in baking and crafting time.

"You're up early!" Sansa smiled. "It's not even lunchtime."

"But this is a special day," Jon smiled back. "I want to spend as much of it with all of you as I can." He looked over at the breakfast nook, and asked, "Where are Brandon and Brienne?"

"Playing under the Heart Tree with Lady.”

Jon looked slightly alarmed, “I’m not sure I locked up the garden shed last night.”

Sansa reassured him, “I checked before letting the twins outside. All the traps, the organic poisons, and the gardening equipment are secure. And Rankle's supervising as well."

“That’s okay then,” Jon looked relieved. “Bran isn’t here?”

“I called him yesterday – on the phone, not through the Heart Tree – and talked to Meera. He’s in the middle of some ritual, and he thought today should be just for us. He’s bringing Meera and Jojen by the day after tomorrow for a nice long visit.”

Jon came forward to meet her in the middle of the kitchen, and kissed her lingeringly. “Happy anniversary, dear heart.”

“Happy anniversary.”

“How are we celebrating?” Jon had learned early on to leave all festivities to Sansa’s expert planning and crafting.

“We’re having something special with dinner, of course, for all of us to enjoy together.” Sansa’s gaze turned sultry, “Tonight, we can have our own celebration. I’ve even made something especially for you to tear off me and rip to shreds.”

Jon grinned, and his eyes started to burn hotly. Sansa knew that look, but she had a cake to make, so she kissed him on the tip of his nose and turned back to the counter.

It occurred to her that Jon should really have some input into the cake, so she asked, "I thought I'd make a house-shaped cake, but should I do another one like our house, or-Jon?"

"Mmm?" her mate asked, nuzzling behind her ear.

His arms slid snugly around her waist, as she asked, "What are you doing?"

"Sansa," he sighed, and planted a kiss where her neck joined her shoulder. He was glad that she was wearing her hair up this morning. More access to her lovely neck.

"Jon, I can detect your pheromones."

"Just a little." Which was true. He only wanted to tease her a little, to start her towards a lusty mood. Sansa had spoken to him seriously about how his mating scent affected her and the need to talk to her first before he fully unleashed it.

But Sansa's body was adding scent-notes entirely of her own lust, which added to her scent on this particular day was starting to make his head spin as well as making his cock hard.

"But we made love when I woke up. It's only been four hours."

"So?" Jon asked, genuinely puzzled. He and Sansa mated every morning when she woke up and before he went to sleep. They mated every night before she went to sleep. They often mated during the day as well. Jon was proud of how often and well he fulfilled his responsibility to pleasure his mate.

He kissed her neck again, over the bite mark he'd left when he'd claimed her. (She didn’t bother to disguise it unless they went out in public.) "I want to mount you again, Sansa. I want to make another baby."

Sansa's wonderful teats were heaving in their blue silk prison, (he honestly didn't understand why his mate insisted they wear all these clothes) and Jon placed his open mouth on the side of her neck, sucking hard with just a touch of teeth. He badly needed to mark her somewhere.

Jon slid his hand expertly under the knee-length skirt of her dress, and rested a hand on her belly, just above her mound. "You're ripe for breeding today, Sansa. Your scent is heavy with it. You haven't been this ripe since we made the twins."

Sansa lifted her hand off the counter to thread through Jon's curly hair. His words sparked a higher heat between her legs, and from the way he was smiling into her neck, her horny beast of a husband knew it.

She’d already made lunch and had it waiting in the refrigerator. So she had plenty of time yet to make the cake for dinner and the twin’s favourite edible spiders for afternoon tea, especially if she spelled the spoons to mix the filling for her and she air-brushed the roof instead of hand-piping. The children were still at the age where they cared more about taste than appearance, and Rankle and Lady liked edible paint better than lots of icing anyway.

Bran had foretold for her, once, that she'd have seven children. The twins were already three, and it did feel like the right time for another baby.

Sansa’s resistance was melting like butter on the stove under her husband’s ardent attentions. She could already feel her wetness on her inner thighs. Her nipples were hard and tingling, and her breasts ached with need for Jon’s touch. They had become larger and fuller from feeding the twins, but didn’t sag from the extra weight. Sansa wasn't sure if it was the healing of a Hearthwitch, or the mating bond lending her Jon's powers of physical recovery, but neither of them argued with the results.

As if hearing her body’s demands, Jon’s clever fingers swiftly undid the buttons that fastened her dress in front (which is why this was Jon's favourite dress), all the way to her waist. A light tug, and her bare breasts spilled out.

"Jon!" Sansa gasped. It was supposed to be in admonition, but even Sansa could tell she just sounded turned on. Because she was.

"You didn't cage your teats today," Jon said smugly.

"It's called a bra, Jon."

"And you didn't wear it today," he chuckled.

Sansa sighed. Who was she kidding?

She'd stopped wearing panties years ago, except for necessity five days a month. Jon found anything between him and her cunt annoying to the point of offensive, and had spent every day of their first month together methodically shredding whatever pair she was wearing. But she still always wore a bra, and told Jon if he ripped up those she'd punish him, and it wouldn't be in the way they both enjoyed so much.

But it was their anniversary today. Not of the quick courthouse ceremony that Sheriff Brienne Tarth had witnessed, that gave her the ring she wore on a chain around her neck. But of the night they'd met. The night they'd mated. The night they'd made their darling Brienne and Brandon.

Sansa knew perfectly well when she took her most easily accessible dress out of the closet this morning that Jon would be pawing at her every time she turned around today. Or else she would drag him down to the basement for punishment, in exactly the way they both enjoyed so much.

"Just let me put these cakes back in the chiller, and we'll go upstairs," she sighed.

"No."

"Jon!" Sansa squealed as his fingers dipped between her thighs, finding her pearl.

"We have two cubs like me. I want a little Hearthwitch like you this time. So we should make her in the kitchen."

Sansa started caressing her own breasts, panting with need. Her husband's logic did seem quite sound.

The two kitchen counters were built in an L shape, with one ending against the wall and the other leaving an opening next to the refrigerator. Sansa shifted her body to face the corner where they met, Jon moving with her and rutting his hardness against her bottom at the same time. Sansa slid her feet a little further apart, and leaned forward from her hips, reluctantly taking her hands off her breasts to brace one on each counter.

Jon unfastened his fly with a groan of relief, pushing his jeans down to his knees. He placed one hand on the curve of Sansa’s hip, and with the other he grasped his aching hardness and guided it to where his mate waited for him, hot and wet and welcoming.

Sansa moaned as he thrust deep as he could inside her. He’d been slow and tender with her this morning, but Jon could feel his lust burning furiously now. The craving to breed his mate was eroding his self-control, and he held her hips firmly to keep her in place as he started to fuck her hard.

Sansa gasped and sighed in appreciation, her inner muscles clutching him greedily. She was already building up to a peak, Jon could tell, and he wanted to get her there quickly, more than once, before he seeded her.

"Do you want me to put on my fur?" Jon grunted as he pounded away, his hips smacking into her arse. "Do you want me to mount you like I did the first time?"

Sansa moaned as a wave of pleasure rolled through her from head to toe. When she'd recovered from the small climax, she panted, "Not now. Tonight, in our room. I want you to take me like a beast. Make me your bitch all over again!"

Jon growled in response from deep in his belly, making his cock quiver inside her. "Yes, Sansa, I will. But first we'll make another child. Another for our pack."

As his mate panted and whined in her lust, Jon's supernatural ears heard other sounds, approaching the French doors that led into the garden from the kitchen.

"Bend over," he ordered, pushing on Sansa's shoulders. She bent double, her hair almost brushing the floor and her skirt flipping over her torso - and all signs of her disappearing beneath the kitchen counters, which blocked all sight of Jon up to his waist as he stilled his hips.

Moments later, two small humans (more or less) and two undead animals came through the doors. Rankle jumped from the floor to sit on the breakfast nook bench, with Lady sitting on the floor beside him.

"Daddy, you're up!" exclaimed Brienne. Both the twins had his hair and eye colour, but Brienne was the only one with his curls.

"Does that mean it’s lunchtime, now?" asked Brandon. "We're getting hungry."

"Not yet, little ones," Jon answered.

Lady's nose wiggled as she sniffed, and her tail wagged. Jon knew she'd already figured out what was going on. Lady had every male furry pet in the neighbourhood (and some that weren’t pets) as part of her harem, after all.

"Where's Mummy?" Brienne asked. "Ooh, is she making something?"

"Mummy's always making something," retorted Brandon.

Jon grinned. Hidden by the counter, he gently rubbed one hand along the tight curve of his mate's arse, enjoying the silken feel of her skin. Her thighs, pressed flush against his own, trembled in response. "Mummy is busy making something, actually."

"More like getting busy," Lady muttered, with a canine grin.

"Holy Hathor, don't you two ever stop?" muttered Rankle, with an eye-roll.

"I'm helping her," Jon told everyone, "But it's a surprise for dinner tonight. So why don't you go outside for-" he squinted at the clock, "another forty minutes. That'll be enough time for Mummy and I to finish the first stage and make lunch. Why don't you play pirates? Your Uncle Theon's due to be surfacing in the lake for a visit soon."

"Yay! Pirates!" the twins cheered, and headed out the door, Lady in hot pursuit. Rankle gave one more eye-roll, and followed.

The interruption had taken the most urgent edge from his lust, and as he watched them go, Jon smiled and began to concentrate hard. Sansa had always encouraged him to develop his beastkin powers and abilities, and there was something he'd been working on, just for her...

Sansa was breathing hard as she put first one hand, then another on the counter, dragging herself up to brace her forearms on top. Now bent parallel at the hips, she wiggled her bottom against Jon's groin. "Keep going," she demanded.

Later, she'd be mortified that her children had nearly discovered her in flagrante delicto, but right now she was aching to come, to feel Jon's seed spurting deep inside to give her another baby. A magical one this time, like her or even as powerful as Bran.

Jon leaned forward to press his chest against her back, and reached beneath her to happily play with her teats. He slowed his thrusts, circling his hips until he was grinding instead of thrusting.

Sansa gasped in shock. She could feel his cock swelling inside her, bulging in one particular place. But how could his knot form now, when he was fully human? Then she realised exactly where in her pussy his knot was forming, and started to whimper again. She was going to climax in less than a minute at this rate!

"Surprise!" Jon panted into her ear gleefully. "I figured out how to form my knot at will when I’m wearing my skin. Did I find your special spot okay?"

Sansa put both her hands over her mouth, to stifle a scream that would bring every creature in the house running. "Yes," she whimpered. "Yes, your knot is rubbing right there!"

“Are you going to peak now, my dear heart?” Jon growled.

“Yes, yes I’m coming!”

“Are you going to peak nice and hard for me?”

Sansa answered by letting out a muffled shriek while every inch of her pussy clamped down on his cock. It felt so good that Jon’s self-restraint shattered. All at once, he buried his face between her shoulder blades, clutched her teats hard, growled and lost control of his knot. It deflated instantly, spraying his seed like a geyser into his mate’s body.

Sansa pushed herself up gingerly, until she was almost standing upright. Jon’s body stayed tightly pressed against hers, his hands rubbing her breasts gently.

“Jon, honey, you need to pull out.”

“No,” her stubborn husband said. “Not until your womb soaks up all my seed.”

Sansa sighed, “Jon, it’s probably already… oh, alright. Let’s wait a couple of minutes.”

*****

Eventually, Sansa did get to make a lovely and delicious cake in the shape of a house. (After she'd magically cleaned herself and the kitchen, had lunch with Jon, the twins, Rankle and Lady, and sent Jon upstairs for another nap, because she was going to keep him very busy once the twins had gone to bed.) The cake didn't look like their house, but a little like a barn, with some fun additions of pointy teeth in the door-frame and glowing yellow eyes in the dormer windows. But did it turn out to look exactly like the playhouse Jon was building for the children and hadn't told her about yet.

Unlike her early-bird twins, little Lyarra was born exactly nine months later; and she did turn out to be a Hearthwitch just like her Mummy.

#jonxsansafanfiction #jonxsansaff #jonxsansaff love songs

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nessataleweaver · 6 years

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Come to the end of the road (fic)

Sansa meets her clandestine lover at the hour of the wolf, where the road ends in the Godswood. (Part of the ‘Songs of Blood and Madness’ universe)

For @jonxsansafanfiction Jonsa Love Songs event 2019: Day 4

Rating: Explicit. Mentions of aftermath of PTSD.

NOTE: This version of Jon likes using foreign endearments (don’t ask me why, I just do what the Muse tells me). I couldn’t find a website for Valyrian, so I substituted Welsh. Hanwylyd =darling, love. Cariad =sweetheart, love

EXPOSITION NOTES: Why is this fest constantly inspiring me to write sequels to my WIP’s?

‘Songs of Blood and Madness’ is a modern-day AU. You know those slasher movies when a group of nubile teenagers go to an isolated house on the shore of a lake, and there’s a psychopathic killer lurking? Well, in this universe is about the aftermath of that. Sansa, Joffrey, Margaery, Renly and Dickon went to Dreadfort Lake, and met Ramsey. Sansa was the only survivor. Now she’s a very different person, and the Starks are having a lot of trouble dealing with it (except Bran. ‘Cause Bran sees everything). The only person who she feels completely comfortable with anymore is town pariah Jon Targaryen, grandson of the North’s previously most infamous murderer, the Wildfire Killer.

This story takes place after Jon and Sansa’s secret friendship has become an equally secret but devoted love affair.

You belong to me

I belong to you

Girl, I'm here for you

All those times at night

End of the Road - Boyz II Men

Over the past eight months, Sansa had become an expert in sneaking out of the house, day or night. She didn't even need access to the tree outside Bran's window anymore.

At past midnight, one of the key tricks was to do so in her pyjamas. On the off-chance one of her family was awake, she could just say she wanted a drink of water from the kitchen; if they found her heading out the kitchen door, she can simply tell them that she needed to drive off a nightmare.

Dr Brienne hadn't had much headway with her mother or Robb, but Papa had put much more effort into understanding and connecting with the after-Dreadfort-Lake-Sansa than he did with the before-Dreadfort-Lake-Sansa. He'd even had a few sessions with Dr Brienne himself. Ned had put his foot down firmly to Catelyn, Robb, and even Arya. Sansa was to be left alone to heal however she damn well wanted. If it confused them or they disapproved, tough.

If Bran was the one awake then she only needed to reassure him that it was okay for him to go back to bed; Bran always seemed to know what she needed without being told.

Mother no longer tried to ambush her into conversations that only the old Sansa enjoyed or even saw the point of, but Sansa still parked her car in the street, rather than the multi-car garage. It was easy enough to walk in the shadows of the garage to reach it.

It wasn't a long drive to the Godswood. On a nice day it was easy walking distance. But as much as Sansa enjoyed the night and moonlight nowadays, walking around after midnight still didn't seem like a good idea. Not to mention having a car was much more convenient for what she had planned.

Sansa drove her hatchback to the very end of Godswood road - the dead end that only the park workers usually saw. There was literally not a single person for miles around.

Even as she parked, her phone buzzed in the cradle. Sansa smiled at the message, and climbed out of the car to make some quick preparations. She lowered the back of the back seat, opening up the cargo area. She had already stashed a couple of blankets in the trunk, and quickly spread them out over the whole cargo area; first the rougher blanket that will cling to the carpet of the trunk floor and the seat-backs, then a softer blanket on top. She didn't bother to shut the hatchback, and sat on the blankets with her legs dangling over the rear bumper.

Less than a minute later, she spotted Ghost coming through the trees. Jon was right on his direwolf's heels, but the moon was waning tonight, and in his black jeans and matching long-sleeved Henley, Ghost was more visible.

As soon as he saw her, Jon smiled. Sansa was one of only a handful of people that ever saw him smile, and this particular smile was one he kept for her. He climbed into the cargo space with her, and leant forward for a kiss of greeting. It was soft and chaste, unlike what was to come. While they have become much better at talking, their seemingly strange relationship was founded in being comfortable together in silence.

Sex wasn't the only reason they met secretly, but Robb had come home from college for the first week of his spring break, and had insisted on taking Sansa out almost every night to try and rebuild their relationship. She and Jon hadn't been able to snatch more than a few minutes conversation at a time during the school day, and Sansa was starving for his touch.

Sansa slipped off her ballet flats, and carefully tossed them into the footwell of the front passenger seat. She waited for Jon to work off his sneakers and socks, and she sent them to join her shoes.

She heard Jon's quiet 'Guard' command to Ghost, and glimpsed a flash of white bushy tail as Ghost laid down at the foot of the car. Jon was already pulling his Henley over his head, and Sansa admired the flex of his sculpted stomach and chest. He had to hang his bare feet out over the bumper to take off his jeans, and Sansa didn't bother to hide her grin as he wriggled out of the clinging denim. He was naked underneath, and already half-hard.

Sansa laid back on the blanket, but she didn't touch her own clothing. Jon loved to undress her.

Jon reached up to shut the hatchback, securing them in their own small world. Then he curled on his side, took her into his arms, and kissed her again. Sansa was instantly oblivious to everything except the wonderful feeling of his soft, pouty lips against hers, the flicker of his tongue against her sensitive skin. The kiss intensified, and she sighed into his mouth as her hands slipped around the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his thick black curls as his arms tightened around her.

There was a dark, aching hunger deep inside her that demanded to be fed, and not even Sansa knew if it came from her heart or between her legs. As her tongue entwined with his, she trailed her fingertips down his chest and she tangled her legs with his to draw him even closer.

“Steady on, hanwylyd, we have awhile yet.”

But his fingers swiftly opened the buttons of her pyjama top, and his mouth trailed lingering kisses over the swells of her bare breasts. Sansa moaned with need and pulled him towards her desperately. With careful strength, he laid her down flat on the blankets, and tugged off her capri-length pyjama pants, tossing them haphazardly into the front seat.

He gazed at her naked body silently, and Sansa caught her breath at the fierce, dark hunger in his eyes that matched her own. Then, very gently, he ran his fingertips up the inside of her thigh to where her legs met. She trembled violently as he cupped her mound with his palm, and stroked his finger between her wet folds. She could feel the calluses earned from hours and hours of practice on his beloved guitar, and something about the hardened skin abrading her delicate, molten flesh made her want to howl for more. More of his touch, more of his body, but most of all more of Jon.

He eased her legs apart, as widely as they could manage in the cramped space, and shifted to kneel between her thighs. He sat back on his heels, the back windshield forcing him to bend his torso into an uncomfortable crouch that made his stomach muscles crunch even as Jon braced himself on one hand next to her head.

He reached down to stroke his long, rigid cock, and her breath caught at the sight, even as her cunt ached in anticipation. Jon gripped his shaft carefully and stroked her folds with the velvety blunt tip, until her back arched and she pleaded with him breathlessly. Then he slid into her welcoming depths, dropping to his elbow to keep himself balanced, and using his free hand to stroke and fondle her breasts.

Sansa was halfway to climax already, and she clutched his shoulders desperately as her lover pleasured her slowly and sweetly. She shivered with the warm, intense thrill of it as he drove the firm length of his cock deep within her, and she groaned as he withdrew, only to sigh blissfully as she felt him return. Jon’s face was set pale and hard as marble; Sansa knew it was from the effort to hold himself back, to make sure of her pleasure before taking his own, and it made her heart pound with adoration. She held back as long as she could, holding on the very edge of ecstasy. But then his hand left her breasts, slipped down once again between her legs, and his forefinger finally stroked her nub. Sansa cried out and bucked against him as her entire body felt like it had been set afire by his touch.

Sansa raked her nails down his back in reaction, and Jon hissed.

"Watch the nails, cariad. I have soccer practise tomorrow, and the locker room has enough to gossip about."

Sansa gripped the back of his neck to bring his face to hers, but instead of kissing him, her teeth closed gently on his earlobe, and she tugged.

"I want them to see," she murmured. "I want them to know that I've claimed you. We can't hold hands in the street, so I need to show that you're mine in other ways."

He grinned at her in dark satisfaction, and sped up his strokes, driving into her faster and faster. Then his head dipped down to her breasts, gently nipping at the hard tips and soft curves. Sansa grabbed his gorgeous ass, trying to pull him deeper inside as she finally tipped over the edge and the scorching wave of pleasure swept over her. Jon groaned in response and drove himself to the hilt as his own climax hit, and Sansa felt a second wave, smaller but no less powerful, as he spasmed deep within her.

All at once, Jon’s body relaxed from his semi-crouch into simply collapsing onto Sansa’s body, his curly hair spread across her chest above her breasts. As Sansa tried to catch her breath, she gently rubbed his back with both hands. With a sigh, Jon pulled out of her and they half-struggled, half-rolled together in the small space until Jon was on the bottom.

Now they had taken the edge off their mutual need, Jon settled onto his back, laying at a diagonal to stretch out as much as possible. Sansa curled up beside him with her head on his shoulder, and Jon's arm automatically wrapped around her, his hand curving over her hip.

He told her about latest rehearsal of the Night's Watch, and the trouble Sam had had in getting the footwork right for his drum solo in their latest song. His father had been getting on his back worse than usual and Sam hadn't had a lot of time to practise. Sansa talked about Rickon's camping trip with the Wilderness Scouts, and how taking over as his chauffeur and 'things to do at home with your parents' role seemed to be helping smooth Catelyn's latest ruffled feathers. She enjoyed the extra bonding time with Rickon, in any case.

Sex wasn't the only reason they meet secretly. It was also the only time they had to really catch up on each other's lives.

A natural break in the conversation left them still and quiet for a few moments, then Sansa broke the silence.

"I couldn’t find a moment alone to call you and tell you; Lady Olenna's invited me to visit Highgarden this summer. She said I was free to bring a plus one."

"You mean... me?"

"If you can get away from your summer job. And if it's safe."

Jon tilted his head so his eyes could meet hers. "You think it might not be?"

"Lady Olenna will always be grateful to me for avenging Margaery's death. And she's finding me interesting in my own right, nowadays. She would keep her mouth shut under torture, if only to give the secrets she held higher value. It's Loras I'm worried about. Margaery told me a lot about him over the years; he's melodramatic, and has a tendency to make hasty and ill-considered decisions. He was also desperately in love with Renly, even though Margaery and Olenna both thought they brought out the worst in each other. I can just see him deciding that I don't deserve to have a lover when his is dead, and sending Mother an anonymous letter or something equally petty."

"Hmm. Maybe ask Lady Tyrell about that. I won't be offended if you decide to take Bran instead, but I'll miss you. Speaking of allies... I want to tell Uncle Aemon about us. He loves me, and he knows better than anyone what kind of treatment we'd be facing if we went public. Anyway, he's already figured out that I'm seeing someone, just not who. I can't hide how happy you make me, not from him."

Sansa smiled in the gloom. "Why do you think I told Dr Brienne all about you? She thinks you're very good for me. I agree." She thought for a few moments. "If we do tell Professor Targaryen, what about his carer? Could we work around him?"

"Probably. Even if he did find out, Edd wouldn't tell anyone just on general principles. He's as miserable with his words as he is about everything else."

"Then go ahead and tell your Uncle. I'd love to meet him, actually, given all that you've told me about him. Let's work around Edd for the meantime."

Jon murmured an agreement, and they fell silent again.

They both knew the possible consequences of their love being discovered. Sansa was sure that she could talk her father around with a mature discussion, especially since Dr Brienne approved of Jon. Her mother, however, was another story. Catelyn had spent sixteen years and change working to mould Sansa into the Sothron lady that she herself had been in her youth. Finding out that Sansa was no longer a virgin would make her furious; finding out that Sansa was the lover of the Wildfire Killer's grandson - the ultimate bad influence, in her eyes - would send Catelyn into the stratosphere. Catelyn had always had big plans for Sansa's future, and she had long ignored Sansa becoming disillusioned with the Sothron lifestyle due to Joffrey's treatment of her. Sansa wouldn't turn eighteen for just over a year, Jon was fast approaching his nineteenth birthday, and Catelyn was fully capable of having Jon charged with statutory rape to remove him from Sansa's life.

"Okay. Gods, I can't wait to have you in my bed," Jon sighed. "I can't possibly give you a proper Lord's Kiss in these cramped conditions."

"What!" sputtered Sansa. "You want to take the risk of introducing me to your Uncle so you can go down on me?"

"No, cariad. I want to take the risk of introducing you to Uncle Aemon because you're the two most important people in my life. The fact I can make love to you in a proper bed and finally get enough room to lick every fold and crevice of your cunt, and enough privacy to try and make you scream in pleasure for several hours is just a nice bonus."

Sansa gasped, as erotic images sparked by his words tumbled through her head. “Several hours?”

Jon grinned, and the hot, dark fire was back in his eyes. “I did tell you about Uncle Aemon’s collection of antique books, yeah? Including the rare reprint of an instruction manual written in the pleasure houses of Lys five hundred years ago?”

“He let you read it?” asked Sansa, intrigued.

“Seven Hells, no.”

Sansa sighed in disappointment.

“I snuck into his study to memorize it when I was thirteen. Taught me far more than sex education did at school, I can tell you.” Jon grinned, “Well, once we get an actual room to ourselves I can show you.”

“How soon can you talk to him in private?” Sansa asked, then laughed.

The tension broke, and Jon angled his head to look at the clock in the car’s dashboard. “Fuck. As much as I’d love to do exactly that one more time, I need to go. If I don’t get at least a few hours of sleep tonight, I’ll be fumbling the ball at practise tomorrow, and Coach Marsh will bust my arse.”

Sansa sighed, her voice heavy with reluctance. “Me too. I have to drop off Bran on my way to school in the morning, so early start.”

They exchanged looks of regret as they unwound themselves from each other, Sansa buttoning her pyjama top as Jon retrieved her pants and helped her shimmy into them. Jon waited patiently for her to retrieve his clothes from the front., as Sansa loved to dress him. Covering up his delicious body felt like wrapping a present for herself, and Jon found it incredibly erotic. It helped build the anticipation for the next time.

After a final, lingering kiss, Jon whistled to Ghost and walked back into the Godswood. Sansa watched them go until they disappeared between the trees, and climbed back into the car for the journey home.

As she settled into her bed, sleep came quickly for her. Her nightmares and night terrors had steadily decreased over the past months, but it was only after her trysts with Jon that sleep was deep and sweet.

It took both nerve and planning to conduct a clandestine affair, but Sansa had survived playing for higher stakes. She knew how her well-meaning, increasingly claustrophobic family would react to her taking the last Targaryen as her lover. But the more time Sansa spent in Jon’s arms, the more certain she became. Jon was not only her first lover, but her last.

Wolves mated for life, after all. Sansa rather thought that dragons did too - or at least hers did.

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