#jons

Yes - you were sailing with Daenerys, and the weight of all of her other titles. She surprisingly liked you, admired your lack of servitude towards men, that you didn’t put up with any sexism, that you were even tougher than some of the men in your own army. That you refused to slink back and act like a helpless woman when things got tough. When she wasn’t demanding people bend the knee or going on her ten minute rant of all of the names that she had, she wasn’t all that bad. But she had done something tonight which had pinched a nerve in you, and made you think of her as an entitled brat - not for the last time either.

During dinner, which she had invited you two to have in her cabin, she had been giving Jon some looks. Now, she could definitely not say that she did not know about the two of you since you were always together. Just because there was no wedding doesn’t mean that you two weren’t practically married already. Everyone knew that - even your father, though he didn’t fully appreciate that you two hadn’t had the ceremony yet. And yet, she had rested her hand upon Jon’s arm, and probably more under the table that you could not see.

You kept your calm during dinner, keeping your eyes on the plate to avoid shooting dirty looks at the ‘Queen’. You didn’t trust anyone with that title these days. Cersei was bad enough. Now you had this to contend with up close and personal. After the meal, once you and Jon were back in your own shared cabin, you were really able to let loose with your thoughts.

“Yes, I’m grateful that she had brought her dragons to fight our cause, and yes, I think it’s great that she has a whole army of people who are obviously devoted to her but my god, do I have to lose you to her in order for us to have a chance to live another a couple of years?” You asked, pacing the floor with your arms crossed in front of you. Jon was sitting on the bed, undoing his boots, saying nothing. He’d learned the value of silence when it came to your anger since arguing back had disastrous consequences. “And you just let her!”

“What do you think I should have done then?” He asked when there was a lull between your words.

“Not look at her like you were going to pick up your fork and feed her!” You said, opening up the window just to have something to do with your hands. You were feeling hot, your blood boiling. “I know we are not wed and your life is still your own but I never want to see another woman put her hand on you like that.”

“Some might say that you’re jealous,” He said, attempting to hide a little smile but you had caught sight of it. It just made you feel all the more passionate about the situation.

“Jealous?” You asked, turning on him, your whole body standing over him now. “You think that I am jealous of that white-haired woman? I would not trade places with her for any ship in the sea. Jealous - as if.”

“She was just trying to be friendly, and gain our trust.” Jon insisted, looking at you, completely undaunted.

“Well, she lost some of mine,” You scowled. “Are you trying to make me seem like the bad guy here? Because if that’s really what you want, I can become that.”

“I don’t know if you can,” He said. His words had flipped a switch in your mind. You were angry before, but now - now you were downright possessive. You had to make sure that he knew that it was you who would be there for him, you who would fight at his side, you who would love him until death. With the war coming, the two of you had not wasted much time. The relationship had developed quickly, and feeling that your time was coming near, you’d been making the most of it. There was not an inch in this cabin that had not been explored by the two of you during sex, nor were the kitchens or the deck truly clean. It would make your father disgusted to know that ships had been used this way by you. But you didn’t care if he knew - you were in love.

“You really think,” You asked, hopping yourself on his lap, wrapping your legs around his abdomen while he sat up straight. “-that you’re going to be able to distract me from that with sex?”

“I don’t have another choice,” He said, leaning forward to press a kiss on your chin. “I can’t have you killing her before we fight the war.”

“I guess that’s a fair point,” You sighed, tangling your fingers up in the curls of his hair. It was a sweet spot for him, causing his eyes to close and a mouth come out of his slightly parted lips. It was a beautiful sight. You wouldn’t trade him for any ship in the world either.

The playing with his hair went on for another moment before you yanked your hand away, causing him to groan rather than moan. His eyes shot open and he looked at you pleadingly to continue but you tutted and shook your head. “I’m the bad guy, Snow, you’re not always going to get exactly what you want.”

You hopped back to your feet and turned your back towards him, knowing that it would only tease him more. You lifted your tunic up from over your head and let it land on the floor near him. Your back was exposed to him, and you knew how much he loved it. Many a night he had fallen asleep while running his fingers up and down your spine. You turned your head over your shoulder and blew him a kiss, your hair falling over your shoulders to cover whatever might have been in view.

You abandoned wearing dresses whenever you were on a ship. Such a little thing as tripping on one’s long skirts could easily mean death when you could fall overboard and into the freezing water of the Narrow Sea. As well, you were rather proactive in the upkeep of the ship, even ascending the nets to get to the Crows Nest and take a turn looking out for land. That sort of climbing was not something that you could do in a dress. So now, in front of Jon, you were attired only in your trousers, your stockings to keep the cool air out, and your shoes.

A benefit of being a part of the ship was the muscle tone that you had, that you were proud of. You could arm-wrestle with the best of them, even beating Tormund once. The same arm that you used untied the laces of your shoes so you could kick them off - always the least sexy of the undressing processes. But then you were at your trousers, tied up with a corset-like front with a strong knot. Your fingers worked nimbly with it, undoing it slightly, pulling the thin piece of rope out so that Jon could tell what you were doing.

“You’re not being bad, you’re just being a tease,” Jon said, leaning backwards, balancing himself on his elbows. He was taking in the show, though. He would be crazy not to be enjoying it. He longed to kiss your shoulders, work his way down your back, down down down until he reached where your pants lingered -

But those soon disappeared, much like the top that you had thrown away. You had taken the stockings with you, stepping out of them with care. Now you were nude in front of him, but still with your back towards him. His eyes took in the most prevalent thing he could see - your ass, which was just the perfect size for him. He never cared much for looks - not caring about the whores the way that Theon did. But you - you were blessed with both looks and a personality that he had fallen for so quickly it nearly gave him whiplash.

You ran your fingers through your own hair now, cocking one hip up and then another in a dance that seemed very much like it was Dornish in origin. You hummed a song that you recalled from one of the ports you had stopped in many moons ago when you were helping your father with smuggling, and danced to it. “I don’t think you’re much of a good guy yourself, Jon. Letting her touch you like that in front of me. Putting me into this rage just to get a reaction out of me. I think you deserve to be teased.”

“Is that how it’s going to be?” He asked. You turned to the side, still rotating your hips, back to humming, and nodded. “The Queen is very beautiful, isn’t she?”

You avoided looking at him, knowing that he had a smug expression on his face. He enjoyed testing you, getting your mood up. Things always got rather heated that way. You slowed your dance down to a tantalizing pace, spinning around so that he could see your full front, a scene that always took his breath away. “Do you want to say that again?” You asked. He shook his head quickly, eyes transfixed on your chest.

“Didn’t think so,” You said. You leaned forward, moving in closer and closer to him, before tugging violently at his trousers. He lost his balance due to the force that you used and fell back upon the bed. Good - that was a good place to have him. You undid those trousers and pushed them down over his feet until they fell on the floor beside yours. This room was infamous for having discarded clothing all over the place.

His cock sprung out, freed from the fabric cage that they had been locked into all day. It was already as hard as a rock. You teased him further by licking the tip, making him grab onto your shoulders. His hastily trimmed nails dug into the skin, leaving little pink crescent marks. You would be sure to return the favor later. You kissed the tip, then licked up and down the sides in the same painfully slow pace you had taken with your dancing.

“Do you think that the Queen would do this?” You asked, sucking about half of his cock down your throat. Now, he wasn’t a giant in that department, but he was a nice size. Still, you were able to get all the way down if you wanted to, but right now he didn’t deserve that. He moaned at that, but didn’t give you an answer. Instead he just squeezed you once more, lightly attempting to push you down but you didn’t budge. Your tongue played against his split, then licked the underside of his cock before you released, the cold air bringing goosebumps to his pelvic region after being in your warm mouth.

“You’re thinking about her way more than I am,” Jon said, raising his head up to look at you. You shook your head, resenting the idea of that. Before you could make another move, Jon grabbed onto you and pulled you onto the bed. He was strong, and able to move you like you were a child’s doll made of fabric and sheep’s wool. His face was now buried in between your legs, and he started to lick at you as if your pussy was the fountain of youth.

“You’re so focused on thinking about her face that you can’t even remember her name?” You asked, biting down on your lower lip to keep from squealing. His beard always ended up tickling you, making you squirm. You didn’t grab at his shoulders like he did, but rather, grabbed onto the sheets for support. Your head was so close to knocking against the headboard but that was the least of your concerns at this moment. He was sucking on your clit, bringing you to a high far more quickly than you had anticipated. You struggled against him, then raised your feet under him to push him off. He looked up at you, lips moist and glistening, caught your eye then rolled his.

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” He said, looking exasperated. He tried to grab at you again so that he could return to his feast but you kicked him off of the bed, making him land on the floor. You smirked as he got up onto his feet, but that didn’t stay for very long. He picked you right up off of the bed before you could protest, slamming you down onto the desk, which was covered in maps and letters from ravens.

“I just think you liked the attention, Jon. Do you like her more than me? Do you think she’s better than me?” As you were asking these questions, you were trying to get off the desk. There were little figures on the map to help with strategy and they were digging into your bare back. As you flailed, Jon took the opportunity to step between your open legs and thrust his hard cock right into you. It was so quick that it hurt, causing an immediate discomfort but it slowly eased into pleasure. That didn’t mean, though, that you were done being irritated.

Jon held onto the back of your neck, forcing your head up to look at him as he thrust in and out, keeping eye contact the entire time. “Does it seem like I think she’s better than you?” He asked in disbelief.

“Can’t tell with you sometimes,” You muttered, pushing his hand away from you and leaned your head back against the wall. He instead grabbed onto your ankle and your thigh, keeping your legs spread as you struggled to find a way to keep yourself from being shaken too much. “Are you thinking of her right now?”

“I’m trying not to, but you keep bringing her up!” He growled. “Are you done with your jealous fit?”

You thought for a moment, which was hard because you could nearly feel yourself reaching a climax. You didn’t want to - that would mean that Jon won the argument. But you had a plan. Finally getting your arms underneath you, you pushed yourself up off of the desk, quite a few of the little figures sticking into your back but you didn’t care, and wrapped your arms around Jon’s shoulders. He was in a standing position while you were holding onto him like a reverse piggy back. Using your strength, you raised yourself up so only his tip was inside of you, then clenched your inner muscles to tease him all the more. Milk him.

“Almost,” You told him, resisting when he tried to drop you down little by little. “Who is your Queen?”

Jon froze entirely at that question. “What?”

“Not the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, not the Queen of Slave-Freeing, none of that. Your Queen. Whisper it if you are afraid of treason, but if you do not give me the answer that I want, I’m walking out that door.”

Jon didn’t hesitate after that. “You are,” He said softly, whispering it into your ear. “My Queen.”

You released your hold on him, sinking down onto him until he was fully inside you. He carried you back to the bed, where instead of throwing each other around, you made what you would call love. However, you still felt the need to be in control of him. To make sure that you were the only one that he was thinking about during these pleasurable moments.

You went on top, straddling him, bouncing yourself up and down in a quick pace. That didn’t however, mean that he could slack off. He thrust upward to meet with your bounces, and his hand went to your clit where he started to rub it slowly at first, then picking up speed. Since he only had experience with one other woman before you, you had to teach him some things. The value of pleasure in that little bundle of nerves was lesson number one and oh how he had learned. His other hand went to your breast, holding it in place rather than letting it go up and down with you, your nipple getting caught between his thumb and his index finger.

You looked down at him throughout, keeping up the eye contact. “I love you, Jon Snow. My true King.”

“I love you, y/n,” He said in return. The words seemed to have a physical effect because before he could even warn you, he cum up inside of you, thrusting hard against his own control.

You rode him out, only slightly disappointed that you weren’t able to finish at the same time. After his moment of pleasure had past, and the sensitivity began did you roll off of him and lay down on the bed, sweaty and tired. “I take that back,” You groaned. “A King would be a gentleman and let their Queen finish.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon breathed, rolling over on his side to kiss your shoulder. “I’ll just make you finish twice next time.”

“Shouldn’t have what?” A laugh bubbles out of Sansa. She can’t be here. She can’t. But there isn’t anywhere else to go, nowhere else she can run, so she plunges ahead before Jon can say anything else, turns her voice low as the hiss of a scalpel. “I’m sorry you had to listen to me beg to throat your dick, Jon, really I am. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. I just felt bad for you. I’ve always felt bad for you, the way you had to follow around Robb because you didn’t have a life of your own. Is it easier now he’s gone? Now that you can just slip into his?”

“Don’t do that.” Jon’s face has gone still but for a muscle clenched in the dimple of his jaw. “That’s not fair.”

Fair. The word makes Sansa want to laugh, to cry and shout and even with the wine finally beginning to trickle a fuzzy warmth into her veins she knows that if she looks at Jon another second something in her will crack. And so as desperately as she wants to drain the bottle Sansa sets it on the counter and shoves past Jon.