#spring challenge

Prompt lists from Art Fight:

He had been so close to never knowing what those lips felt like against his own. Close to never knowing how smooth her skin is, and what it feels like have her body respond to his. It was intoxicating.

He’s looking forward to becoming thoroughly inebriated by Sansa, and is growing shamelessly impatient. He’d had a taste, and he desperately wants more.

He’d repressed his feelings for her for so long, they’re all bubbling to the surface. It’s a fucking nightmare, but not. It’s difficult to describe.

He prays to the old gods and the new that she’ll be up for continuing what they started earlier. She might not be, and that’s okay.

She might think it’s disrespectful to spend the night in another man’s bed hours after calling off a marriage, but that’s her call to make.

It’s just that he cannot get her out of his head. The sounds she was making. Her long legs and those shoes. He didn’t know he has a high heel kink, but he’s pretty sure he has a high heel kink. He resists the urge to text her, and ask her to wear the heels. Something is very wrong with him, and it started the second she kissed him. It flipped a switch, and he’s gone down a rabbit hole.

He busies himself playing pool. Theon is kicking his ass, but he doesn’t care. He’s just killing time until Sansa gets here.

“Jon!” Rickon grumbles, forcefully placing his bottle on the small table near them. “He just pushed the cue ball! You knock that shit off, Theon!”

“Make me.” Theon smirks, lifting his arms and the cue. “It isn’t my fault he’s distracted.”

Rickon squares up, and Theon backs off, realizing this is no longer the small boy they used to rough house with. Rickon is built like a damn NFL linebacker.

“That’s what I thought.” Rickon puffs out his chest. “Take your shot, Jonny.”

“How long could it take to call off an engagement?” Jon sighs, missing another shot.

“Knowing the Royces,” Robb shrugs, “we could be waiting for a while.”

“You don’t think she’d change her mind, do you?”

“That isn’t happening.” Robb reassures him. “She’s had her mind set on you for decades. She used to tell everyone she was going to marry you.”

Jon remembers this Sansa. She was all ribbons and curls then. She used to follow him and Robb around, and Jon didn’t mind. He enjoyed the company. He met her at Robb’s birthday party, but it was Sansa who commanded his attention.

“Do you like my dress?”

“I picked out these shoes!”

“I can do a cartwheel!”

Months later, she made him a card for his sixth birthday, that he still has. He’s never had very many friends, and she was the first person, besides his parents, that cared enough to make him something like that. When he asked her why she took the time to do it, she told him he’s her best friend. The feeling stuck with him.

He knows it doesn’t take much for a four-year-old to say you’re their best friend, but Sansa has proved the words to be true over the years. She’s always been there for him. When he totaled his car. When his mother was sick. Countless other times. Not that Robb wasn’t there for him. It’s just different.

He isn’t able to pinpoint the moment he realized his feelings are far from platonic, but it was sometime around his senior year of high school. She’d turned fifteen a few months earlier, and when she wore a purple bikini he’d never forget, he noticed. He’d always been fond of her, but that was when he started feeling things he worried he shouldn’t. He should have made a move when he took her to prom, or any other time they were alone.

Sansa walks into the tavern, and nothing else matters. He makes his way over to the bar while she orders a drink.

“How’d it go?” He eyes her carefully, trying to discern how she is feeling.

“Miserable.” She sighs, downing a shot. “I feel like the worst person on the entire planet.”

“You’re not.” He rubs between her shoulders, and with just that minimal contact, back down the rabbit hole he goes. He pushes a bit of her hair away to lean in a whisper. “Want to get out of here?”

He cannot believe himself. He’s embarrassed. He sounds like a fuckboy.

He will remember the look she gives him for the rest of his life. She surveys him up and down, narrows her eyes, and nods. It’s the damn sexiest thing he’s ever seen, and he’s eternally grateful his room is an elevator ride away. “Think we can sneak away without any of them noticing?”

“I doubt it.”

“Jon!” Theon shouts. “Are we playing or what?”

“I forfeit.” Jon waves, taking Sansa’s hand.

“Ow ow!” Rickon and Arya call obnoxiously. “Bow chicka bow wow.”

“It’s about fucking time!” Bran joins in.

“Here’s to my room being nowhere near yours!” Robb holds up his pint glass.

“Don’t make it weird.” Jon hears Margaery beg Robb before Sansa leads him out into the lobby.

They don’t make it to the elevator. They find a secluded corner, and pick up where they left off. He hasn’t felt this way, ever. His mouth is all over her body. The parts that aren’t under her dress, anyway. His hand takes care of those that are, for now. He can’t wait to take off the silky panties he feels getting wetter and wetter. He considers not waiting. She starts to moan, and he kisses her, deep and slow, to muffle the sound. No matter how much he loves it, other people hearing her was probably a bad idea.

“This is a bad idea.” He laughs, breathless.

“What?” She looks hurt, and he realizes why. She thinks he means they’re a bad idea, not groping each other in public.

“Doing this here is a bad idea.” He clarifies, and she is relieved. He squeezes her hand, and they find their way to the elevator.

“You’re a tease.” She groans, and he kisses her. A soft kiss. A I’m so happy this is finally happening kiss.

“Says the one who used to prance around in her bikinis.”

“I should feel offended and objectified,” Sansa sighs, “but I used to ogle you without your shirt on all the time.”

“You can tease and ogle me all you want.”

She tugs at his shirt, and kisses him until they arrive at his floor. His room is blissfully close to the elevator. They find it quickly.

He closes the door with his foot, and she pulls his shirt over his head. She admires his upper body, grazing his skin with her fingertips, and he slips the panties he wanted gone while they were in the lobby down her legs. She unzips his pants, and he kicks them and his shoes off. He slides the dress off, and his hands and mouth explore her body as they fall onto the bed. Her lacy bra does not stay on long. His hand finds her clit, and he eagerly licks and sucks her breasts and nipples.

Each moan and sigh send him closer to the edge. He’s nearly sent over the edge when she slips his cock from his boxer-briefs, and starts moving her hand agonizingly slow up and down the shaft. He takes her hand, placing it above her head. He bends her legs, and positions himself to so he’s able to properly do what he’s wanted to do all night. He’s gotten quite a few complements on his skill, and he’s hoping to have Sansa screaming very soon. He starts slow. If she was going to call him a tease, he’d show her a tease. She quickly changes his pace, pulling his hair, and bucking her hips against his tongue. His fingers dig into her ass as she climaxes, and he smirks up at her.

He lays next to her, and she pulls his boxer-briefs down, keen to return the favor. She does, and he’s barely conscious when she’s finished.

He massages and kisses as much of her body as he can for a long while. She straddles him, sliding his cock into her folds. She rolls back and forth, and Jon leans up to take one of her nipples in his mouth again.

“Jon...” The cry is too much for him to handle, and he pushes her down onto the mattress. He thrusts into her, and they both find their release for the second time of many that night.

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