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welldonebeca · 1 year

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Everything

Summary: When he came back to life, the red priestess said he was not going to be the same, and he could feel it. It was like something was carved out of him and there was a void. And then sweet, lovable Sansa walked through those gates and looked at him with those Tully blue eyes, and filled it. Sansa. Sansa. Sansa. She became everything. WC: 3.2k words Warning: Dark Jonsa. Dirty Talk. Smut. Masturbation. Fluff. Rough sex. Unprotected sex. Breeding kink. Canon divergence. Mutual Pining. Unhealthy relationship. Possessive sex.

Jon watched Sansa as she sipped her soup from the mug, unable to tear his eyes from her.

Coming back to life was… strange.

New.

He had changed.

The red priestess said he was not going to be the same, and he could feel it. It was like something was carved out of him and there was a void.

And then sweet, lovable Sansa walked through those gates and looked at him with those Tully blue eyes, and filled it.

She became everything.

When he wasn’t by her side - when she needed to bath, to change out of the clothes she had ridden into his arms with - he stood outside her door, her name chanting in his mind, her face burnt into his eyes. When he was with her again, he couldn’t look away from her.

Sansa. Sansa.

His Sansa.

His.

How she was under his protection and he wouldn’t let her go to fend for herself again. How she was never going to be alone again, and he would use this new life to make her life good again.

"If we don’t take back the North, we'll never be safe,” she looked at him, blue eyes deep and certain. “I want you to help me. But I'll do it myself if I have to."

Her words hurt more than the daggers he had taken to his heart.

Didn’t she know she was never going to be alone?

That he was never, ever, going to let her hurt anymore?

Now that he had her, Jon would never let her go.

He moved closer to her and knelt in front of her, looking into her eyes, and squeezed her hands, still warm from the mug she had just left aside.

“I will do anything for you, Sansa,” he promised. “You are under my care now."

She was in his pack. His she-wolf.

If only she understood what he had fought for. What he had died for.

But if she wanted her home back, their home.

How could he deny her?

“Jon,” she whispered, pleading and looking at him with so much pain on her face it hurt him. “I can’t keep running.”

His sweet Sansa. He remembered when she would cry so prettily. Even when she was upset, she was always the perfect lady.

“You won’t,” he assured her. “I’ll protect you. I’ll always protect you.”

Her eyes looked away, full of doubt, and Jon had to hold back a growl.

“Look at me,” he commanded her.

She didn’t, and Jon raised a hand to her face, cradling her cheek, moving closer to her.

He rested his forehead on hers, connecting his eyes with hers, so close he could feel her breath against his lips.

Jon knew he should be more patient with her. He should allow her to trust him, she had been through so much, had been mistrusting people for years, but he couldn’t.

Old Jon would. But he was long dead, killed by the men he had tried to help.

“Jon,” she exhaled, closing her eyes.

He pulled her by her waist, pressing his chest to hers, and felt her fingers moving to his hair just as he captured her lips.

She gasped into their kiss, but he just held her a little tighter, though Sansa didn’t push him away.

Jon remembered how protective Lady Catelyn Stark was with her little Sansa. Arya always loved him, she never let herself be convinced there was anything wrong with him, so she had to keep her favourite girl to herself,

And of course, it just made her all the more tempting. Now, Catelyn Stark was long dead, and Jon was kissing her precious daughter.

He picked her by her waist, raising her off of the ground and moving back to their seats by the fire, pushing her skirt up to allow her to fully sit on his lap.

He pushed his hand on her thighs, grabbing and squeezing her, and she finally pulled away from him.

“Jon…” she panted. “We can’t…”

His hands moved further up. She was wearing one of the clothes Gilly had left behind, they couldn’t find anything for her to wear underneath.

He could smell her wet cunt.

“We can’t do this,” she whined.

He touched her wet curls, tapping her pretty bud.

“It’s alright, sweet Sansa,” he whispered into her lips.

Jon kissed down neck, and watched as she moved her hand down to where his were, and moved his lips to the spot behind her ear, sucking on it softly.

“Tell me where it feels good,” he rubbed her wet folds, parting them and feeling her wet slick. “Guide me, sweet girl.”

“Jon,” she whined.

He kissed her jaw, a little too sharp now. She used to be so soft when they were children, he needed to make her soft again.

She whimpered.

“Please,” she gasped, and a little tear rolled to her cheek.

Jon moved his face to look at her, and rested his forehead on hers again.

“Don’t be afraid,” he looked into her wet eyes. “Don’t ever fear me. I would never hurt you, never.”

Sansa swallowed down, lips parted as she looked at him.

“I just want to love you,” he pushed a finger into her cunt, and her lips parted open. “I’ve loved you since we were so young. I just want to make you feel good… feel happy.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, shocked.

“I wanted you since before I knew what wanting was,” he fucked her slowly. “When we were playing knights and princesses, and you would kiss my cheek so quickly, because no one could know.”

Sansa’s face showed even more of her surprise.

“I remember,” he promised her. “And I still hate that stupid prince so much for taking you away, for taking you from me and our home!”

He lifted her up, using a hand to push away everything from under the table and sitting her on it, and flipped her skirt up.

“I should have bedded you that night before we both left,” he pulled her leg over his shoulder, kissing her naked calf, staring at her face. “Should have made you mine before anyone else could. So that you would have stayed with me.”

Her face flushed at the thought, and Jon smirked, pushing his fingers into her again.

“Would you have liked, that Lady Stark?” he teased, curling his fingers in her wet cunt, and she gasped. “Your bastard brother coming into your room and stealing your innocence.”

Jon liked that fantasy. He could imagine the horror on Lady Catelyn’s face, finding her daughter moaning while her bastard brother fucked her.

But he was only a boy, then, and Sansa merely a girl.

Still, he had her now, more man than ever before.

“Sansa,” he kissed her knee and reached for her hand. “Show me. I want to know how to make you cum.”

She panted, but squeezed his wrist, and slowly pushed it up, moving his fingers to her bud.

“There,” she whispered. “Please. You did it before.”

Jon pushed a third finger into her cunt, fucking her with them coated in her wetness, and playing with her sweet bud.

His cock was straining in his pants, begging to get out and for her cunt, but he wanted Sansa to be ready for it. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

So he continued to pet her bud, and licked his lips when she arched her hips to him.

“More?” he teased her. “Faster?”

Sansa whined.

“Please, Jon,” she pleaded.

“Tell me,” he stood, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

She panted, moaning softly.

“Your finger,” Sansa moved her nose over his. “Harder. Faster. Please.”

Jon hummed along, playing a little more with her bud, and her cunt squeezed around his fingers.

“Do you know what you’re chasing, sweet girl?” he whispered into her lips. “Have you ever made yourself cum before?”

Her cheeks flushed, and he smirked.

Sweet, innocent Sansa, touching her little cunt under her sheets, fearful that anyone would notice her obscene movements.

“I don’t,” she panted. “I’ve… I don’t…”

Jon pecked her sweet lips.

Of course not. His sweet Sansa was too innocent for that.

He wasn’t, though.

“It‘s sweet and indecent,” he whispered to her, fingers insistent, and her cunt squeezed around him some more. “It makes your wet cunt cream so much more.”

She moaned louder, and Jon rubbed his nose on hers, feeling how close she was.

“And it makes your cunt flutter just like this,” he hummed. “And everything in your just needs release, Sansa…”

Her sounds grew louder, and she arched her hips in his direction.

“Please,” she panted.

Jon hummed.

“Are you close?” he asked. “I bet you can feel it building up.”

She whined, so needy it was adorable.

“I won’t deny you,” he promised her. “ Not tonight at least.”

Sansa opened her eyes, looking at him with her pretty lips parted.

“I’ll deny you sweetly,” he licked her bottom lip. “Hold you back until just my words can get you to cum.”

Her cunt fluttered around him, wetter and sloppier.

“Jon,” she whimpered.

The wolf in him grew possessive.

“Louder,” he growled. “Say my name louder.”

“Jon,” she cried out louder. “Jon.”

They should all hear and know who was making her feel this good.

Who she belonged to.

Sansa finally came all over his fingers, and he continued to fuck her slowly with a hand, undoing his breeches, pulling his cock with the other, and used the wetness to stroke himself.

The next time he had her, he would put his face between her legs and taste her, he would make her cum over and over again on his lips.

But not today.

The moment she saw him, Sansa put herself on her elbows and closer her long legs, looking spooked.

No, that wouldn’t do.

“Jon, you’re too big,” she whispered.

He caressed her calf.

“It’s alright,” he promised her, leaning by her side, pushing his hand to caress her skin. “I prepared you well. We’ll go slow.”

Jon brushed his lips against her, teasing her, knowing he needed to make her chase him.

“It will fit,” he promised her. “Your cunt is so ready, sweet girl. So wet.”

Sansa moved, lips pressing against his, and slowly he lifted her dress.

“Let’s take this off,” he kissed her cheek.

Her hand travelled quickly to his, slapping it away.

“No,” she said dryly.

He wanted to growl and slap her hand himself and tear that stupid dress. But he knew he couldn’t.

Jon wasn’t her first man. When he asked her to tell him about what happened with the Boltons, he already knew what happened by just seeing her face. He was going to kill Ramsay for what he had done to her.

He was going to tear his face off with his teeth and fuck Sansa still covered in his blood.

But right now, instead, he pulled back, and took off his layers under her eyes, to show her that she had nothing to be afraid of.

Sansa’s eyes widened as they fell on his scars, and filled with tears, and Jon watched her sit properly, reaching for him and running her fingers down his chest, skimming around him but not yet touching it.

“You’re really not the same anymore are you?” she looked at his face.

Jon nodded slowly.

“Aye,” he caressed her chin. “But neither are you.”

She looked at his body and then his face, clenching her fingers on her dress.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not that strong or good-looking. And I’m a little bony now.”

Jon was ready to argue with her - she had gone through so much and was still here! And she was beautiful - but she was too quick, removing her dress and setting it aside on the table, red hair falling over her breasts and giving her a little bit of modesty.

His cock throbbed and his mouth salivated.

Her body was beautiful. Jon could see where she was plumper before, and he would make sure to feet her, so she could be again, but in no way it made her less beautiful.

The gods had sculpted her so carefully.

His mind travelled to the women in his life. Lady Catelyn, Ros, and Ygritte. A flurry of red unwrapping to reveal his greatest sin.

Sansa.

His Sansa.

Jon moved her closer, caressing her legs and ass, and her fingers moved to his hair, grabbing his locks, freeing them from his bun and letting the curls fall as they kissed.

He moved his hand to her body, brushing off her hair, and pinched her nipple.

“Spread your legs,” he whispered into her lips.

Sansa sighed and whined, and squirmed when he tapped on her slit with his cock, and she bit her pink lip in worry and anticipation.

“I know you can take it,” he kissed her cheek. “You’re doing so good, sweet girl.”

Jon rested his forehead against hers as he pushed his head in, watching her beautiful Tully eyes welling up as he slowly stretched her wet cunt, squeezing him as she looked for support.

“So good,” he whispered, reaching for her bud and petting it slowly, and Sansa arched her body to his with a soft moan.

“Jon,” she whined.

“Feel good?” he cooed against her lips.

Sansa nodded.

“Feel good,” she whined. “Jon!”

He hummed along, feeling her perfect cunt fluttering around him.

“You’re meant for my cock,” he growled into her lips. “Feel this? Uh?”

She moaned.

“Yeah,” she panted.

“We fit perfectly,” he pinched her bud, and she gasped, pussy squeezing him more. “Your cunt was made just for my cock.”

Sansa’s cunt fluttered around him, crying out, and he picked up the pace with her bud.

“I’m going to make you forget every man who ever dared think about your cunt,” he growled at her. “You are mine now, Sansa Stark.”

She moaned louder, squirming and crying in pleasure.

“Yes,” she cried. “Jon.”

“Mine to love,” he thrust hard into her, nearly moving the table under them. “Mine to protect. And mine to fuck.”

She cried out in pleasure, arching her body and peaking loudly again.

Jon laughed again, breathless, as she felt her coming undone.

“Good girl,” he thrust his cock into her. “Learn to cum on my cock, squeeze me in your cunt.”

She moaned in a mix of a whimper and mumble of a word.

“Yes, Jon,” she panted.

He closed his eyes, feeling himself throbbing.

“Fucking wet pussy,” he rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Gonna cum right inside you.”

“Please,” she whined. “Please, Jon.”

A wicked thought ran over his mind.

Filling up his precious Sansa with a little bastard of their own.

"You want me to cum in you?" he growled, hammering into her. "Give you a bastard babe, from your bastard brother?"

He could see Sansa's gaze turn to worry for a brief second before he hit a precious spot in her that made her lovely blue eyes cross.

"Yes," she cried out. "Jon!"

Fuck, she got even wetter around him.

"Like this?" he angled himself, making sure to hit it again. "You want me to fuck like this while I give you my bastard baby? When I fill up this cunt?"

Sansa's voice rose in a loud cry, desperate and beyond vulgar.

Jon pulled on her lovely hair and kissed her lips.

"I'm going to take Winterfell back for us," he growled. "For Arya, Bran and Rickon."

She cried out, clawing at his back.

"Yes," Sansa moaned, dark and desperate.

"And for every. Bastard. Babe," he thrust into her, punctuating his words. "I fill you up with."

Her fingers clenched and her cunt squeezed his cock hard, outright gushing as she peaked again, dragging him right along with her, and he squeezed her close and kissed her lips hard as he came, filling her cunt to the brim.

He stood there for a moment to pick up his breath, and Jon willed his strength to pick up Sansa again as his cock softened.

He wasn't going to risk staying around here for someone to find them in the morning.

She didn't seem to care when he grabbed her dress with a hand, softening cock still Inside as he carried her into his room as Lord Commander.

It wasn't his role anymore, but it was the best room in this place. And his lovely Sansa deserved the best.

Jon laid her on the bed, and she whined when he pulled out completely from inside her, earning a little nonchalant look from Ghost, who was sleeping on a rug by the fire, and he left her to stroke it.

He had just placed more wood to it when his gaze trailed back to his sweet girl, who was curling against his furs as she lied with her stomach down, poking out her round like a sweet meal.

When she finally turned her head, reddened lips curled in a smile, her pretty eyes lit up.

“Oh,” she gasped.

Jon looked at himself, confused, and realised his cock was already hard again.

Sansa chuckled and then lifted her ass, offering herself more, and he growled at the sight of his cum leaking from her cunt.

“Come on,” he looked at Ghost. “You are sleeping out tonight.”

His wolf glared at him, as if he knew what Jon was kicking him out for, but simply stepped to the door and then out when he opened it, leaving the two alone.

“Don’t let anyone come inside without knocking,” he commanded.

Ghost lied down again, ready to fall back into sleep, and Jon closed the door, turning back to a giggling Sansa.

“Now, you,” he walked back to her in quick and heavy steps. “You little temptress.”

He raised her ass and slipped right inside her, making her gasp in pleasure.

“I have to make sure you’re fully plugged up,” he fucked her, feeling her cunt already fluttering around him. “What will you tell the northern lords of Ned stark’s daughter’s pregnant belly, uh?”

She cried out, in a loud moan.

“I’ll tell them Ned stark’s bastard fucked me, and he’s the only one who can put a babe inside me,” she arched her ass to him.

He moved his fingers to her bud, playing with her, knowing she was still sensitive.

“You’re damn fucking right,” he growled. “You can marry whatever lord you want, but it’ll be my babe inside you. Always.”

Sansa moaned.

“I won’t marry anyone,” she whined. “I want you, only you.”

He growled, possessiveness growing inside him.

“Then cum with me,” he commanded, rolling her bud under his finger.

They were both so close, it didn’t take much for Jon to near his own peak.

“Cum, now,” he growled right into Sansa’s ear.

She obeyed beautifully, crying out and spasming under him, milking his cock with her slippery wet cunt.

As they rode their high, Jon knew he wasn’t going to let anything happen to his Sansa.

She was his, and after he had given up everything and lost his fucking life, he deserved to be this selfish.

He told himself that as he allowed the Northen houses to make him their King, knowing he would find a way to make her his Queen as she sat beside him, hiding her small bump in her structured dress.

He didn’t care about the world anymore. Jon was never going to leave her side ever again.

. . .

"Everything" was posted on my Patreon back in June. To have early access to my stories, consider subscribing! It's just $2 a month!

. . .

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