#welldonebeca's kuwtt

[welldonebeca]

The Mother's Day Anthology - (1) Alysanne

Summary: Months after their banishment from Westeros, Alysanne and Jahaerys spend their first Mother’s Day in New Valyria. Set in 1941 WC: 1.3k words Warnings: Modern-ish AU. 1940S. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Family fluff.

Alysanne closed her eyes, fanning herself with her paper fan lazily in the Solar, watching the sun rising on the horizon with the electric fan aimed at her face.

Hot. It was too hot, everything was too hot.

How much hotter was that damn country going to get?!

It was May! What place would be this hot at fucking May? So far, Alysanne had only stepped there in December, to escape Winter in King’s Landing.

And it wasn’t even Summer, gods…

She was cooking alive, that’s what she was.

As if being pregnant wasn’t uncomfortable enough.

She reached for the bowl by her side for more frozen treats, but it was just a puddle of juice now, so she just wavered her fingers to dry them, frustrated.

Not even her frozen treats survived the heat in that damn place.

“My love?” she heard.

Alysanne turned her neck and relaxed a little when Jahaerys walked to her, holding a bowl in his hand.

“You weren’t in your bed,” he pulled himself a chair.

She exhaled, tired.

“My room was too warm,” she groaned. “The fans were just blowing hot air on my face.”

Jahaerys sat by her side, taking her hand and kissing it.

“The sunset is beautiful here,” he hummed against her knuckles.

Her mouth soured.

“It was more beautiful from the window of our room,” she corrected him. “We could see it rising from under the ocean.”

A thousand years.

A thousand years of legacy, gone just like that.

They had worked so hard, tried so hard to establish themselves, and at least stayed home when they started asking for a democracy. Even if they weren’t in the throne – even if there wasn’t even a throne anymore! - but they were banished anyway; isolated, expelled from their home.

Dragonstone was still theirs! They couldn’t take it from them.

They could have lived in it happily, safely.

But no. They had to leave, even though they were the ones who’d unified that damn place, who’d made the Kingdoms into a country!

But they took everything they could take from them.

Their throne, their land, their freedom… her baby, still just a tiny thing in her when she lost him.

Her hand moved to her belly, to rub the swell of her womb. Jahaerys was certain it would be a girl this time, before he was due.

Saera. She would be Daenerys’ best friend.

Jahaerys thought that if they showed the gods their children belonged to them, then they would bless them.

Alysanne highly doubted it.

“It’s temporary,” he affirmed, reaching for her belly, and caressing it softly. “She won’t even have memories of anything but Westeros.”

Keep reading it on Archive of Our Own.

[welldonebeca]

prayers and stitches

On the night their family turns upside down, Laenor has two very important conversations: one with Jacaerys, the other with Daemon. . . . "I love Rhaenyra." Laenor couldn’t hold himself back, his lips moved faster than his mind. “Like you loved my sister?”

“Dad?”

Laenor raised his head from his phone, Joffrey’s text an appearing and disappearing bubble as he seemed to be processing the whole incident.

He hadn’t even processed it fully yet.

Leave it to Daemon to come around and mess things up to the point the whole family shifted – again. It was like a curse, every time he stepped into Westeros, something happened to change the status quo forever; he could never leave things the way they always were.

"Yes?" Laenor set his phone down.

It was a big hotel suit, but the girls had chosen to share a bed, and his oldest boys were in the same room, but Luke was still in the hospital. In their last call, Daemon had said he was clinging to Rhaenyra the whole time during her own examination, which meant the doctors had to work on both at once, but he never said anything was irreversible.

Jace walked over, barefoot and looking utterly drained, as any child should never be. It had to be excruciatingly tough for him. They had informed Jace and Luke about the divorce just a day after they'd signed the papers, and merely a week later, Rhaenyra and Daemon had decided they would marry each other and live in Valyria. That had been just three days ago!

His oldest son came to a stop in front of him, and Laenor could see how red his face was from crying. Poor Jace – he didn't deserve this much stress.

"I..." Jace mumbled, fidgeting with his hands. "I didn't mean to hurt Aemond."

Laenor exhaled slowly.

He didn’t even know how that had all started.

Their family, their bloodline, was a mess.

“I know, son,” he assured him. “I don’t think anyone intended for tonight to go how it did.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon had initially planned just to inform Viserys that they were relocating to New Valyria and getting married. If it had been up to Laenor, he would have kept the kids on Dragonstone or Driftmark, but Rhaenyra was insistent on bringing them along. And now her arm was slashed, Luke's nose was broken, and Aemond had lost a fucking eye!

Jace moved to his lap and curled around him like a baby, and Laenor embraced him close. It was probably so scary for him to go through that.

He rubbed his back as he cuddled.

"Is Mum going to be alright?" Jace asked, his voice so small and soft that it was nearly muffled.

“Yes,” he told him, not even thinking about his answer. “Daemon called and said the doctors are taking good care of her. She just needs some stitches, she’ll be back soon.”

Alicent was mad, she had to be. To attack Rhaenyra like that, hurt her so carelessly…

People died from wrist injuries! And a broken sword?!

She could have severed an artery, cut a nerve or tendon!

This was aggravated assault, or potentially even worse!

If Daemon decided to share his side of the story, Laenor knew they could push for a charge of attempted murder.

“It’s my fault,” Jace spoke, sounding so sad it almost broke him.

Laenor looked at his son, searching for his face, but Jace remained still, trapped in his sorrow and hiding.

“I prayed to the gods that something happened so we wouldn’t have to move,” he sniffed. “And that mum wouldn’t date uncle Daemon any more.”

He exhaled slowly. Oh, dear, his sweet son.

“Jace...” he spoke slowly. “Sometimes...”

Laenor paused.

He believed in the Valyrian gods and had passed on those beliefs to his sons. That's why he had never married Rhaenyra in a traditional ceremony, just legally; they didn’t want it to be sealed by the gods, not when this marriage was just a legality.

Reader the rest of the story on AO3

[welldonebeca]

The TV Show (1)

Summary: When they finally find a moment together, Jon invites Sansa to watch a TV show. They just keep getting distracted. Aka: Netflix and chill. They fuck in front of a TV. WC: 1.7k words Warnings: A little bit of Meta. Teasing. Sansa rants about House of the Dragon's costume design. Seduction. Degrading kink. Possessive Jon.

Masterlist

Jon invited Sansa to watch a TV show with him.

Robb and Theon were out, sleeping somewhere else, they were home alone, and after the fingering... situation, they needed a moment.

To talk.

And more.

The thing was... they didn't really know how to talk with one another.

It wasn't like they were friends or knew much about each other.

"Do you want popcorn?" Jon offered as she sat on the couch. "Any snack?"

"Those sweets would be nice," she asked, instead.

She was doing her classic cold shoulder, not too obvious but in her ladylike way of ignoring someone, only answering questions.

But she was always in her frilly nightie, with silk shorts and no underwear.

Just to make things easy if they came to it.

He came back with a bag of marshmallows and a bag of sweets, along with a can of her favourite soda, sitting by her side with his own chips and beer, and Sansa eyed her from her spot on the couch.

Jon hadn't tried to talk to her after leaving her room, not more than usual.

He didn't expect her to embrace him like they were the best of friends, right?

She eyed him up and down, reaching her hand to get the sweets when he sat down, but Jon held her out of his grip.

"Jon!"

"Not my fault you're seating across the couch," he shrugged, setting them between his thigh and the couch.

She pouted.

What a teasing jerk!

Jon patted the space by his side and she scooted a little closer, but she still couldn't reach for the sweets and her soda.

She would have to literally throw herself over his lap to get her soda.

Sansa tried to reach for it, and Jon suddenly decided to be even more of a jerk and hold it at a distance away, and she smacked him on the side of his head.

"Fine," she decided, and seated back on her seat, crossing her arms. "I don't want it anymore."

He laughed.

"Gods, you're so easy to tease," he scoffed, picking up her soda and giving it to her, and then the sweets. "There, princess."

She scowled, but opened the bag, picking up a marshmallow and eating it as he picked the remote.

"What do you want to watch?" he asked.

She frowned a little.

"Well, you invited me," she reminded him.

He shook his head.

"You don't like the stuff I watch," Jon pointed out.

She gasped.

"Yes, I do! As long as it is not too crude or violent, I'm alright with it."

He shook his head, and she waited as he roamed through HBO Max.

"Well," he sighed. "There's this show..."

Sansa raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer. What, did Jon think she wouldn't like a nice TV show?

"It's about the age of dragons," he told her. "And my family."

She perked up.

His family?!

Jon was a Targaryen, at least on his father's side. As far as she knew, he didn't have a lot of contact with him, but his family was loaded. Probably the oldest money in existence in Westeros and Essos.

They were kings and queens once, dominating the world before the other continents were discovered, and had dragons.

The coolest thing her family had ever had in the past were direwolves.

The Targaryens were loaded these days.

She was surprised a TV show about them was even allowed to exist.

"Did your family produce it?" she asked.

They had to, right? It was their history, after all.

Jon chuckled, looking a little unsure.

"I don't think I'm even allowed to talk about that TV show," he confessed.

Sansa looked at him, confused.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed.

"Well, my uncle emailed me," he told her. "And we are not supposed to give out any statements about the show."

She stared for a moment.

The age of the dragons was half a thousand years ago. Who would even care to link it to the current Targaryens?

"Statements?" she asked, anyway.

"No tweeting, no live-streaming, no comments... no words, at all," he told her. "Not even to our friends."

Oh.

He scowled a little.

"Don't think about it. My dad's family is just... yeah, they are... yeah."

Yeah, she got it.

"But I heard the show is good," he said simply. "And no one said I couldn't watch it and pretend I do not descend from those weirdos."

Sansa giggled.

"Well, you could be a prince, technically," she pointed out. "I'm sure that's not bad."

He rolled his eyes a bit.

"I've only seen my father on television and in magazines, Sansa," he told her. "The only reason I even know he is my father is that they did a DNA test when I was a kid, right after my mother died. All he did was pay child support to my godfather and give me a college fund, and that was it. I doubt that is very princely."

She deflated.

Oh.

She knew Jon's mother - her aunt Lyanna - had died when he was young, and he didn't have contact with his father, but that was far harsher than what she thought their relationship was like.

"I'm sorry," she apologised. "I didn't know."

He was so negative, though. He was still his son, right? And the son of a prince or king was also a prince.

She imagined him as a prince, though. Wearing nice clothes, not his old black t-shirt - the one he always wore and said it was clean but never seemed to be. Maybe he would wear his curls back, and she would be able to see his face and not just his hair.

Jon pressed play, and she sat back, falling into a comfortable silence as a blond woman flew in her dragon.

Oh, it was a huge dragon.

She always imagined how big they would be. History books mentioned sizes but they were always so different, and never gave her a perspective.

"Cool," she whispered under her breath.

The girl really did look the young Rhaenyra she saw in the books - a painting of her when she was declared heir of the Iron Throne. Before shit went down.

A Dragon Princess, filled with elegance and beauty.

How she envied that vision.

... but what the fuck was the costume department doing?

"Is she wearing a bra?" she asked, unable to keep that to herself.

Jon turned to her, confused.

"Sorry, what?"

She moved over to him, taking the remote from his hand and rewinding.

"I mean, probably?" he asked, confused. "What are you doing?"

"Well, she is not supposed to," she glared at him.

Jon squinted.

"It's just a show, Sansa."

She moved closer to him.

"That's a show about the age of the dragons, Jon," she reminded him. "It's not just a show."

He looked so confused.

"Okay, so," she sat up straighter, pausing the show. "During the age of dragons, there were rules for clothes!"

Jon shook his head.

"I'm pretty sure it is not even supposed to be historically accurate!"

"Doesn't it bother you?" she exclaimed.

It was a show about his family! His ancestors!

"Sansa, please," he sighed, laughing.

She pouted, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well, what is wrong, then?" he asked, crossing his arms. "I don't see anything wrong with her dress."

"The dress is alright," she argued. "It's her underwear a have a problem with."

Jon simply watched and she sighed, standing up.

"Look at me," she requested, moving and turning on the light.

He followed her with his eyes, and Sansa stood in front of him.

"You know corsets, right?" she asked. "The whole body thing."

Jon nodded.

"Well, the stays came before them," she explained. "They are made to cover the whole torso, like a vest. It keeps your posture straight, and it's like a rigid shirt."

She moved her hand over her torso, showing it to him.

"They don't squeeze, but they give you a shape," she told him. "And she-"

Sansa walked to the TV, and pointed at Rhaenyra.

"She doesn't have a shape."

Jon blinked a little, not looking at her face, and Sansa looked down.

Her nightie had slipped off. Her tit was hanging out.

Sansa’s face burned red and she fixed her clothes quickly.

"I-" she tried to speak.

"Well, it's nothing I haven't seen before," he joked. "And a much nicer view than my ancestors."

She flushed, and he crooked his finger, calling her closer.

Sansa stood between his legs, looking down at him, and Jon put his hand on her hips.

"You wrapped yourself all in silk for me," he caressed her skin under her clothes.

She adjusted herself, trying not to look affected.

"I like this nightie," she said simply.

He smirked.

"So it wasn't for me?" he tugged on her nightie, making it slide down again.

He raised a hand to her chest and pinched her nipple, and Sansa squirmed.

"Are you sure?" he insisted, nearly mocking her.

Her cheeks burned more and Sansa almost stepped back, but he held her in place.

"I like how you look when you are that passionate," he told her. "My little costume designer."

His?

Jon moved his hand down, caressing her thigh.

"Were you this passionate about learning to rub your pretty clit?" he pushed his fingers up her shorts, and Sansa couldn't even clench her thighs together before he was right on the edge of her apex.

She didn't quite want to, you know?

"About how to please your sweet cunt?" he moved his thumb to her mound, and stopped.

She wasn't wearing underwear, and now he knew it.

He pulled her to his lap quickly, kissing her lips hungrily as he pushed his fingers into her hair, tugging on it, making her head fall to the side as he moved his lips down her skin.

"Silly little girl," he mocked, pushing her shorts to the side.

Sansa gasped when she felt his caressing her folds.

She was already wet, for some reason.

"You're so easy to turn on," he chuckled. "Just a little teasing and that pussy is already leaking."

Sansa whimpered and tried to follow his fingers, but he pinched her clit.

No, this wasn't how it was supposed to go!

"Jon," she whined. "Wait."

He pulled back quickly, looking surprised but taking his hands away anyway.

"I learned something," she whispered, embarrassed.

Jon sat up straighter, and she pulled his hands back to her legs.

Sansa had been reading.

She liked reading, a lot.

And watching things.

Jon squinted.

"What did you learn?"

. . .

"The TV Show" was posted on my Patreon on March! To read it before anyone else - and the sequel "Screamer", subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month.

. . .

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[welldonebeca]

The TV Show (3)

Summary: When they finally find a moment together, Jon invites Sansa to watch a TV show. They just keep getting distracted. Aka: Netflix and chill. They fuck in front of a TV. WC: 2.6k words Warnings: Virginity loss. Oral sex/Cunnilingus. Innocence kink. Dirty talking. D/s dynamic. Begging. "No thought just sex". Praising kink. Rough sex. Mean Jon (but Sansa loves it). Fingers in mouth. Aftercare.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

Sansa giggled when he threw her onto the bed. He had that scowl on his face, but it was less threatening than he probably wanted it to me.

"Tease?" she asked, teasing him. "Me? I was just watching the show!"

He shook his head, taking off his shirt, and she licked her lips at his beautiful, strong torso.

Sansa rubbed her thighs together.

"Jon!" she gasped, surprised when he suddenly spread her legs and put himself between them.

"I'll show you," he tugged on her shorts, the only piece left of her silky nightly, and he threw it over his shoulder.

Jon spread her legs, holding her in place for a moment and staring down at her cunt for a moment.

"Jon?" she called. "What are you-"

But he interrupted her, shocking her as his tongue ran across her folds, from her entrance to her clit.

She had seen it on porn before, and Jon had sucked her clit when he made her cum that time, but it felt so different from what she thought!

"Jon!"

He raised his head from between her legs, his grey eyes dark with desire now.

But he didn't say anything, sticking out his tongue and doing it again.

Sansa threw her head back, moaning, and his big hands grabbed her highs, holding her open as she gasped and arched herself.

Gods, it felt so good.

He pushed two of his fingers inside, moving them slowly, fucking her carefully, stretching her to the brim.

His tongue moved on her, skilfully, and she couldn't do more than moan and take it.

"You're so tight," he hummed, kissing the sides of her thighs. "My little virgin."

Sansa covered her face with her hands.

"Jon!" she whined.

"Now one's ever touched you like this," he licked her clit again, looking right at her. "Never taste you. Only I can, right, sweet girl?"

She squirmed.

"Yes," Sansa moaned. "Just you, Jon, just-"

His finger curled inside her pussy, rubbing against her sweet spot.

"You're all mine," he growled.

His lips wrapped around her clit, sucking on it, and she cried out.

Fucks, she was going to cum. She was going to cum already.

"Please," she begged. "Jon!"

He pulled back, looking at her face, and his thumb replaced his lips.

"You're going to cum, my little virgin?" he crooned. "Are you going to cum for me?"

Sansa nodded, feeling her knot in her stomach tighter.

"I don't think so," he decided.

He pulled back, taking his fingers away, and she gasped in surprise.

"Jon!"

He smirked.

"What, silly girl?" he asked, mocking her. "You don't like it?"

She groaned, pouting.

"But Jon!" she protested.

Before she could sit up, though, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her even closer.

"You tease me the whole night," he accused. "And expect me to just make you cum just like that?"

He moved quickly, taking off his clothes under her eyes before moving closer to her again.

Oh, his cock looked even harder now, if that was even possible. It looked so pink, and it was glistening. Was it from her saliva?

He moved his hand down to it, taking it and slowly stroking himself.

"Do you want my cock in you, pretty girl?" he offered.

Sansa drooled in both ways.

"Yes," she pleaded. "Please, Jon."

His lips curled in a taunting smile.

"You sound like a porn star right now, did you know?" he teased her. "My little porn star, begging for cock.'

She squirmed, flushing hot on her face, and he leaned in more to her, raising her chin with his finger.

"Beg me a little more," he decided.

She tried to look away from him, embarrassed, but he held her face gently but firmly in place, staring right into her eyes.

"Please, Jon," she pleaded softly. "Can I have your cock? Wanna be fucked by you."

He touched her bottom lip with his thumb, caressing it tauntingly.

"You want to give me your virginity," he caressed. "My little, innocent girl. You won't be so innocent if you do."

Sansa put her hand over his, looking at him.

"Please, I want it to be you," she pleaded, and her tenderness seemed to surprise him. "You make me feel so good."

Jon exhaled and moved closer to her, laying her down and and kissing her deeply, staling her breath away, and Sansa kissed him back hungrily, pulling at his hair, pressing her body to his.

His cock was so warm and hard against her, so close to her pussy now.

"Please," she arched her hips. "Inside me."

She was so wet, she would welcome him so well.

"I have to go slow, sweet girl," he whispered against her lips. "I have to make sure you feel all the pleasure I want to give you."

She whined.

No, she didn't want it slow!

"Let me get a condom," he squeezed her hip. "And lube for you."

Sansa pouted. She wasn't stupid, she knew they should wear protection.

But the idea of Jon filling her up, making her all messy...

She didn't object as he walked away to the side of his bed, taking a box and the lube.

He pulled the condom out, and she spread her legs, taking a hand to her cunt, playing with herself, rubbing her clit as she looked at him.

She watched as he slid the condom onto his cock, his big hand making him look even more intimidating and making her drool.

He squirted some lube over himself and across his thick girth, and then looked at her, scowling when his eyes fell between her hand between her legs.

Sansa rubbed her clit a little more, moaning, teasing him.

"Little temptress," he growled, kneeling on the bed and taking her hand away, pining it on the side. "Be a good girl now."

She felt it rather than saw it when he placed the lube over her cunt, smearing it on her.

"So messy," he clicked his tongue, his tone so mocking. "You're always so prim and proper, so clean... if only all of your friends could see how stupid wet you get..."

She closed her eyes, embarrassed as her pussy fluttered.

Gods, the way he spoke to her!

"Awn, it made you drool so much!" he cooed. "Gonna tie you down one day, make you cum over and over again to see how messy that cunt can become."

She moaned, closing her eyes, and gasped when she felt his cock rubbing her up and down, up and down.

"Sloppy, messy girl," he hummed.

"Please," she whined. "Inside me, Jon!"

He looked at her face, looking merciless.

"Beg more, pretty girl," he commanded. "And maybe I'll give it to you."

His cock rubbed onto her clit, teasing her, and she whined more, growing desperate now.

He was right there, so close. Why wouldn't he take her?

He ground against her, up and down again, and she gasped when he pushed his cock in very, very slowly.

"Yes," she cried. "Jon."

But he pulled back out.

"I said beg," he reminded her. "I don't hear any begging."

Sansa tried to arch her hips, but he held her in place.

"Please, Jon," she moaned. "Want you. Only you, please, please."

He already had her ruined and spoiled for every other man.

Sansa would never ever be able to have sex without expecting it to be this good.

Jon licked his lips, and she could see right when he softened.

"Oh, my sweet girl," he spoke softly. "All mine, aren't you?"

She nodded, pouting a little.

"I'm all yours," she pleaded. "Please, Jon."

He leaned down and kissed her lips again, pressing his chest to her as he pushed his cock in, slowly, very carefully.

He was big, stretching her even more than his fingers had done.

"Jon," she moaned.

He bit her lower lip.

"Talk to me," he instructed, sounding like he was trying to keep himself calm. "Gotta be good, little princess. Don't want you to feel pain."

Pain?

Oh. She was supposed to feel a little bit of pain, no?

But... she didn't.

It didn't hurt. It was a little tight, yes, but it was good! A good tight, a good-

Jon pulled back, as if ready to take himself from inside her, and Sansa held him.

"No," she moaned. "Don't stop, please."

She pushed tugged onto his hair, moaning when he pushed into her again.

"Feel good," she moaned. "Feel very good, please. Don't stop, please, please-"

Jon pushed more into her, taking more space inside her, and she gasped.

Gods, had she known it was so good, she would have climbed onto his lap and fucked him bef-

"Ooh," she moaned.

His cock bottomed out, filling her completely, and his hipbone was pressed right to her clit.

"So pretty," he kissed her neck. "My pretty girl. No need to think. Just take me cock."

Sansa moaned, throwing her head back as he stayed in place.

"Please," she whimpered.

He just kissed her neck more and the space between her chest.

"Shh," he cooed. "Need to take it slow, sweet girl. Don't want to hurt you."

Sansa squirmed.

"No, please," she whined. "Don't want it slow."

Sansa could see it in his face, the way he looked at her.

"Sansa..." he sighed.

"Please," she pleaded. "I can take it, Jon."

He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"Need you to fuck me," she squirmed under him. "Need you to fuck me the way you touched me."

He was so mean to her.

Why couldn't he be mean like that now too?

"Please," she pleaded, looking into his eyes. "Please."

Jon took his hand to her face, holding her chin for a moment and then pushing his fingers into her mouth.

"You want me to be mean to you? That's what you want?" he mocked, two fingers slowly fucking her. "Don't want me to be soft and sweet to you?"

She shook her head.

"Want me to use you?" Jon offered.

Her pussy fluttered with the idea, and Sansa nodded, trying to look her sweetest as she did.

"Want me to use your pussy, pretty girl?" he repeated, moving his hips to half-grind against her. "That's why that pussy's squeezing me that much? Drooling all over my cock?"

She moaned, nodding.

"Yesh," she tried to speak through his fingers.

Yes, it was what she wanted.

"P-ease."

Jon faux pouted, continuing to grind against her.

"I'm sorry, I can't undertand you," he pulled his fingers back and then pushed three of them in, moving to fuck her mouth as if it was her pussy, and Sansa whimpered. "Say it again?"

"P-se," she whined, growing a little desperate now.

"Gods, you really should work on speaking right, silly girl," he sighed. "Well... I guess I'll have to fuck you dumb enough that you'll forget how to talk at all."

She whimpered, already drooling so much it was wetting her cheek, and took in a deep breath when he pulled them away, though it was cut short when he grabbed her by her knees and pressed them to her chest.

"Well... you asked for it."

Jon pulled himself back, pulling his cock all the way out, and before Sansa could speak and protest, he slammed all the way into her again, filling her up all the way again, and she gasped loudly.

"Like this?" he growled. "This what you wanted?"

But he pulled back and slammed into her again, and all she could do was moan.

Jon's cock took each and every bit of space in her, filling her with no resistance from her cunt, so slippery already.

Her voice was so loud it was embarrassing. Thank the gods no one else was home.

Still, she could hear more than just her voice. The squelch from her cunt was also very loud.

"Fucking wet cunt," he moaned. "I didn't even need lube."

Jon took his hand between her legs, rubbing her clit suddenly, and she cried out in surprise.

"Bet you'd let me fuck your cunt bare if I wanted to," he taunted her. "Wouldn't ever protest to me filling this cunt to the brim with cum, silly needy girl."

She nodded. Yes, yes, she would let him fuck her full, she wanted him to.

"Yes," she cried, closing her eyes. "Yes, Jon, please-"

"But just for me, right?" on looked at her face. "This cunt only gets this wet for me, it only craves for my cum."

Gods, she wanted him to fill her so much. She deserved his cum!

"Yes," Sansa cried. "Yes, Jon, just you, 'm yours."

Her eyes were filling with tears for a bit, her mind just foggy as she felt the knot in her belly tight again.

Fuck, she was so close.

"Squeezing me so sweetly," he accused. "I think you're about to cum, pretty princess."

Sansa nodded.

"Yes, yes, please," she pleaded as he rubbed her clit more. "Jon!"

He rubbed her more, watching her expectantly.

"Will you, sweet Sansa?"  he taunted her. "Hm?"

She nodded, and his hips moved a bit faster now, fucking her, and Sansa's eyes nearly crossed.

"Yes."

Sansa could almost taste it when she felt him taking his fingers away.

"No, you won't," he decided.

But his hips didn't stop, his cock didn't stop, and her body didn't stop either.

Jon was away from her, there was no touch to her clit, no stimulation.

But it was enough.

She came with a loud cry and moan, sounding so wanton it would be embarrassing if she could think.

She was surprised when Jon followed right after her, throbbing inside her cunt as his moans grew darker and deeper and his grip harder, his fingers rubbing her clit as if to keep her in the height of her pleasure.

Sansa was feeling completely dazed when he pulled away from her, taking his cock from her cunt and leaving her empty.

Oh, how nice would it feel to have him dripping off her, warm and wet?

But Jon took off the full condom, walking to the bathroom in quick steps to throw it away.

She had her eyes closed when he took her side, embracing her, putting an arm over her torso, and she leaned into his touch quickly.

"Sweet girl," he kissed her cheek, sounding now much sweeter, not mockingly but actually meaning his words. "You did so well for me."

Sansa hid her face into his neck, embracing his affection.

"I did?"

He kissed the side of her face and her temple, every bit of skin he seemed to be able to find with his lips, rubbing her back.

"You did," Jon affirmed. "I'm so proud of you."

He chuckled.

"Of course," he rubbed her back.

She exhaled, feeling a different tension setting in her body.

"Jon?" she called softly. "This isn't like... a one time thing, right?"

Sansa liked him. Very much.

She wouldn't want to get up later and then find out he didn't want her for more than this.

He stiffened under her, and Sansa closed her eyes, expecting the worse.

His warm hand moved to her face, caressing it for a moment before grabbing her chin firmly, making her look at his face firmly.

"I said you were all mine, didn't I, sweet girl?" he asked softly.

Sansa nodded. Yes. And she had promised him she was all his too.

"I don't ever intend to let you go."

Her face grew hot in response and he laughed, kissing her lips sweetly and squeezing her close again.

"Rest, my sweet girl," Jon instructed. "You're tired."

She cuddled up to him, nuzzling into his neck again as he held her close.

In that he was very right, she was tired.

The nickname played in her mind as she dozed off.

His sweet girl. Not just ‘sweet girl’, but all his.

. . .

"The TV Show" was posted on my Patreon on March! To read it before anyone else - and the sequel "Screamer", subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​​ @amythyststorm33​​​ @shaelyn102​​​ @yknott81​​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​​ @kgbrenner​​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​​ @magpiegirl80​​​ @mogaruke​​​ @shadowhunter7​​​ @musicalcoffeebean​​​ @megasimpleplan4ever​​​ @deemoriarty​​​ @05spn18​​​ @malindacath​​​ @kdcollinsauthor​​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​​ @widowsfics​​​ @frozenhuntress67​​​ @averyrogers83​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @giruvega Game of Thrones tags: @izbelross Jonsa Tags: @cosmic-darikano

[welldonebeca]

The TV Show (2)

Summary: When they finally find a moment together, Jon invites Sansa to watch a TV show. They just keep getting distracted. Aka: Netflix and chill. They fuck in front of a TV. WC: 1k words Warnings: Oral sex/Blowjob. Enthusiastic consent. Jon Snow has a big dick. A big of teasing. A little bit of praise. Accidental edging. D/s dynamic.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

Sansa moved away from him, standing up and taking off her top, and Jon followed her with his eyes, and inhaled sharply when she knelt between his legs. She could feel the mood shift between them, the lead.

"There are a lot of videos about sucking cock online," she told him. "And articles too. Did you know that?"

He gulped.

"I... suspect?" Jon mumbled.

Sansa nodded a little, moving her hands over his thighs.

"Do you think I can test on yours?" she asked. "What I learned?"

Jon swallowed down sharply.

"Of course."

She tried to be very gracious when she opened his trousers and massaged his dick over his underwear like the guy in the video had done.

Jon felt very big under her fingers, very thick.

When she pulled him out, she was proven right.

Jon was big. Very big.

Well, he was bigger than the guy in the video, and when she tried to wrap her fingers around him, it was hard.

"Wow," she whispered.

Jon laughed.

"Impressed, sweet girl?"

Well, yes. A little.

"You can go slow," he assured her.

But Sansa shook her head.

"I can do it," she assured him.

She moved to wrap her lips around him, but Jon held her.

"Let's move," he told her. "So you can be a little more comfortable.”

Sansa frowned, but complied, and let him lay her on the low couch, kneeling by her side so she could reach him.

Jon pushed her shorts out of the way just as she wrapped her lips around his cock, and she had to focus very hard not to choke and not on his fingers when Jon pushed his finger between her folds, tapping onto her wetness.

He didn't slide his fingers in, just rubbing her inner folds and touching her clit with passing brushes, not focusing on it, the tease he was, but that was good. Sansa was trying to make him putty in her hands, to make him pay for what he'd done to her.

She was so focused on sucking him that she didn't quite realise when the TV went back on, becoming background noise for them.

She traced him with her tongue very carefully, caressing the veiny side with the tip of it and humming with the salty taste of his precum.

Sansa's focus was taken away, however, when Jon chuckled, and she pulled away.

"What?" she frowned.

He looked at her, looking unsure, and shook his head.

"Not you," he told her. "Just... the show."

She frowned.

They were speaking some other language, weren't they?

She looked down at little, seeing how she could get a glimpse of the TV from the reflex on the table between his legs, but gave up, sitting up.

Before Jon could complain, however, she moved her hand to his cock and started massaging it the way she had learned on the video.

Oh, the hot couple was talking.

"Like Dark Sister," Rhaenyra spoke.

Sansa eyed the necklace.

She was half sure she'd seen it in books too.

"Dark Sister?" she looked at him.

Jon blinked at her, looking completely confused for a moment.

"Hm... a sword," he told her, a little breathless. "It’s silly. It doesn’t matter."

She hummed along, jerking him slowly, and Jon inhaled sharply.

Sansa watched as the man put the necklace around Rhaenyra's neck, and waited for them to touch or tease one another, but nothing happened. Instead, Rhaenyra stepped away.

Boring.

Wait, wasn't that her uncle?

Weird.

She moved back to Jon again, kissing his head before taking him into her lips again.

Sansa relaxed her throat and her neck, pushing him as deep as she could go, and breathed in deep when she felt his thick cock against her throat, nearly gagging.

But she didn't. She took it like a champ.

She focused on breathing through her nose, relaxing her throat.

"That's it," Jon grunted. "Good girl."

Alright. All tongue, no teeth. Never teeth because it hurt!

She wouldn't want his teeth on her clit, why would she let her teeth hurt his cock.

"Fuck, Sansa," he hissed.

She moved back from him, the sound of the TV getting her attention again.

Was that another dress?

She sat up again, and stared in shock at the show.

Gods, Rhaenyra's dress was a mess.

"Oh no," she shook her head. "They didn't."

Jon moaned at her side.

"Hm?"

"Jon, she is not wearing any stays again," she complained. "I can see her bra!"

She raised her eyebrows, surprised by her uncle's armour.

"That can't be safe," she decided, pulling her hand away from Jon. "Jon, look at that!"

He inhaled sharply and breathed out slowly, and she frowned, looking at him.

His cheeks were so pink!

And when she looked at his cock, it was throbbing, bobbing up and down.

"Is that normal?" she asked, worried.

Was that supposed to happen?

Jon pressed his lips together.

"Aren't we in the middle of something?" he asked, instead.

"Oh," she looked at the screen and then at him. "Yeah, of course."

She moved back to his cock, licking him up, and hummed in a bit of surprise when she realised how much precum he was dripping with.

Did that mean he was about to cum?

Already?

She pushed him into her mouth until his cock was resting all the way through her tongue and used her hand to massage his balls gently, and Jon moaned darkly over her.

"Sansa," he covered her pussy with his hand, not even touching her further now.

She moved back, sucking just on the head and closing her eyes at the salty taste of him.

Jon's fingers tightened in her hair, and he moaned more.

"The Queen that never was," someone announced on the show.

Sansa pulled away, curious.

Was it Rhaenys?

She looked at the TV again, continuing to move her fingers on Jon's balls.

Oh, her hair was so interesting!

Very wrong, but very interesting.

"Fuck," Jon cursed.

She turned to him, confused, and Jon reached for the remote.

He turned the TV off and before she could even ask what he was doing, Jon picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

"No more TV for you," he panted, slapping her ass. "Fucking tease."

. . .

"The TV Show" was posted on my Patreon on March! To read it before anyone else - and the sequel "Screamer", subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​​ @amythyststorm33​​​ @shaelyn102​​​ @yknott81​​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​​ @kgbrenner​​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​​ @magpiegirl80​​​ @mogaruke​​​ @shadowhunter7​​​ @musicalcoffeebean​​​ @megasimpleplan4ever​​​ @deemoriarty​​​ @05spn18​​​ @malindacath​​​ @kdcollinsauthor​​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​​ @widowsfics​​​ @frozenhuntress67​​​ @averyrogers83​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @giruvega Game of Thrones tags: @izbelross Jonsa Tags: @cosmic-darikano

[welldonebeca]

Rhaenyra's Choice - Masterlist

Summary: Daemon kissed her, slow and sweeter than any kiss she had ever had, and held her close when she fell onto his shoulder, still crying as he held her close, rocking her slowly in comfort. He pressed his lips to her temple, rubbing her back. "I won't let you fall apart again," he promised her. "I'll take care of you, I promise." . . . When her life needs a change, Rhaenyra divorces Laenor days before Daemon finds his way back into her life - and this time he is determined to never leave it again. Series Warnings: Canon divergence. Modern AU. Unhealthy eating. Angst. Tension. Hurt/Comfort. Children. Family fluff. Breastfeeding. Divorce. Is it infidelity if your marriage is only platonic? A little bit of Targaryen History. Proposal.

Chapter 1 on Patreon (19th of August on Tumblr/AO3) Chapter 2 on Patreon (26th of August on Tumblr/AO3) Chapter 3 on Patreon (2nd of September on Tumblr/AO3) Chapter 4 on Patreon (9th of September on Tumblr/AO3) Chapter 5 on Patreon (16th of September on Tumblr/AO3) Chapter 6 on Patreon (23rd of September on Tumblr/AO3)