Notes: Soooooooooo...
I should be ashamed of myself, but... You know.
I had this idea, of Jon and Robb being brothers (Jon is his cousin, but Ned and Cat adopted him), and Sansa not being a Stark at all. She's Lysa's daughter, but in this version, Lysa isn't Cat's sister, so there's no relation between her and the Starks.
I will go back and forth in time with this fanfic, but I hope it's okay for you all to understand.
This has not being beta read, and English is not my first language. I've been told my prepositions sometimes are crazy, so let me know if it's the case.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
Sansa Arryn -because she'd never be Baelish, no matter what that creep her mother married said -was the perfect daughter: dutiful, intelligent and well-behaved. She was a great student, responsible and talented, and her father had made a point of numbering her accomplishments to anyone who'd listen.
However, her father was dead now and Lysa -Sansa's mother -had gotten married again. Petyr -her stepfather- had insisted that she transferred from King's Landing –her University –to Winterfell, and she did, mostly because she was happy to leave the South and its memories.
She still was basically a good girl and a dutiful daughter.
Which made this morning even more disturbing.
She knew she hadn't drunk that much the night before, so she didn't even have that excuse. She actually had no excuse whatsoever for what she'd done, how she'd behaved.
But here she was anyway, naked between two naked bodies. Sansa had really gone to town last night.
By the light coming from the window, she'd say it was bit after dawn, so if she left now, she might be able to make it to her apartment with minimal humiliation.
Her first walk of shame. The joy.
Leaving was, however, a problem, since she was still naked and between two equally naked bodies. She was almost sure her clothes were by the front door, but to get to them she'd have to extricate herself from those two first. One of them was sleeping on his back and Sansa had –at some point –put her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. It wouldn't be a problem if she hadn't thrown her leg over his hip, since now his hand was gripping her thigh possessively –even in his sleep.
The other one wasn't helping either. He was flush against her back and she could feel every inch of his naked skin against hers, including his hard cock and the arm over her waist.
She'd have to be very careful to move…
The arm around her waist tightened a second before she felt the brush of beard against the nape of her neck. "Thinking of leaving, Lady Sansa?" He whispered huskily on her ear.
Well, fuck.
Notes: I know it was super short, but let me know your feelings!