Archive of Our Own

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Turning down Olenna should have been the hardest part, but it was Jorah’s pitiful laughter that made Jon squirm. Even sat away in his office, the door shut and the blinds pulled, he could still hear the man’s voice echoing down the empty hallways.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Doctor Mormont coughed, “Merry Christmas!”

Jon grimaced and lit his third cigarette of the hour. There is something wrong with him, he thought and rested the smoke between his lips as he blindly fumbled around his drawer for his old hip flask. Perhaps he is more of a fool than he gives off. He could not imagine any other reason why someone would volunteer to dress up as Santa for the university’s Christmas lunch.

In truth, it was a task gracefully passed from one unwilling professor to the next every year. There was always a lot of moaning in the teachers’ lounge once the unlucky victim had been announced, but so far no one had balked at the idea of pulling on a red suit and fake beard for an hour. So far, because the moment Olenna nominated Jon, he announced his resignation.

“Don’t cause such a fuss!” Olenna had sighed and rolled her eyes. “It’s just one time.”

“One time too many,” Jon argued. “I won’t do it.”

“You will rather be jobless?”

“I will take greater pleasure in living on the street than losing my sense of self-respect.”

“I thought you departed with yours years ago,” Olenna shot back, and there had been a noticeable silence in the room. Perhaps she felt foolish about losing her temper, perhaps she realised Jon would make the saddest Santa yet - either way, she instead asked for volunteers, and no sooner had the request left her lips than Jorah stood up.

At first, Olenna had been elated to get a willing faculty member to put on the suit, but her joy was soon suppressed when Jorah, clad in the oversized costume and worn boots, waded through her office with his voice a pitch too high when he cried: “Ho, ho, ho!”

“Well,” she said and gave Jon a sulky look as he sat smirking by her desk, “it will do, Doctor Mormont, thank you so much.”

“Yes, it will do,” Jon agreed, at the time feeling particularly smug about the whole situation.

That smugness, however, was now long gone, and it was with desperation in his eyes that he started unscrewing the flask. No sooner did he pop off the lid than there was a knock on his door, and he groaned and hid the alcohol beneath his desk as he called:

“Come in!”

I swear, Jon thought and gritted his teeth, if it’s Olenna here to boast, I’ll tell her to take a hike. But when the door swung open, and he caught sight of some curled silver locks, his twisted lips melted into a small smile though he tried to hide it. He put the flask away on his desk, leaned back in his chair with his hands folded at his chest, and he spoke: “Miss Targaryen, what a lovely surprise.”

Daenerys was dressed in an enormous pink faux-fur coat that reached the top of her knees. It reminded Jon of those gumballs you can draw from a vending machine at the mall, and he would’ve made a snide remark had he not been distracted by her legs. She was wearing a pair of black stockings, and the fabric shined in the sparse light from his desk lamp.

Daenerys closed the office door and swiftly turned to face him. “Good afternoon, Professor Snow,” she said, her voice perfectly polite, and she rested her hands at her back and crossed her legs, drawing Jon’s gaze further down to her heeled black boots.

She wants me to look, Jon reminded himself as he felt a prick of sweat on his nape. She is such a tease. He pushed his fingertips into the collar of his shirt and popped the first button open as casually as he could manage. “No reason to stand, have a seat,” he said and gestured at the chairs in front of his desk. It was a useless gesture of courtesy, because as always they were both covered with books and student papers.

Daenerys gave them a bored look and just shrugged. “Oh, I am fine, Professor,” she said, “but thank you for thinking of me. I can always rely on you to look out for my needs.” She spoke the last part with a painfully innocent voice, and Jon groaned and slammed his hands flat to his desk.

“Right, you know, we don’t have to play this game of politeness every time,” he said and eyed her as she walked closer, her hips swaying a bit more than necessary.

“Oh, but I thought you liked games, Professor.”

“Remind me - how long have we been together?”

Daenerys pushed a finger to her lips and eyed the ceiling as if she was giving his question a hard thought. “A year, Professor. More or less.”

“More or less,” Jon nodded. “For how long have we fucked in my office?”

“A year, Professor,” Daenerys replied dutifully, a spark in her eyes as she added: “More or less.”

“Yes,” Jon said, feeling his mouth go dry as his heart skipped a beat, “ more or less.”

The year passed quickly. Once Daenerys returned from her Christmas break, their flirting slowly set back in motion, and soon flirting turned to fucking, and Jon’s tea breaks became more infrequent as he found himself excitedly waiting around for another visit from his favourite student. Still, they had to be careful; though Viserys had relaxed more since the apprenticeship ended, he still had eyes and ears at the university, and Jon could not risk his job by getting caught messing around with Daenerys. So all action took place behind closed doors.

Yet another reason why I didn’t go to the Christmas lunch, Jon thought as his eyes ravaged Daenerys’ legs, and he nursed his smoke with care, or I might find myself turn inappropriate. Though it did leave one question on his mind. “Why aren’t you at the lunch?” he asked and furrowed his brows. “Surely it’s not over yet?” As if on cue, Jorah’s voice echoed down the hall once more:

“Ho! Ho! Hooo!” - and Daenerys giggled:

“Sounds like it’s still going strong!” She gently pushed his collection of fossils aside, making enough space for her to sit on the edge of his desk.

“Watch those,” Jon protested, but his eyes were focused on her thighs; as she sat, her jacket rode further up her body, revealing how the stockings fitted tight around her fleshy legs. The sight alone made his groin throb.

“I did go to eat,” Daenerys said, “but I was sorely disappointed when Santa showed up to hand out gifts.”

“Oh? Surprised to find he wasn’t real?” Jon teased and smirked around his smoke.

Daenerys rolled her eyes and popped her lips. They glistened with red lipstick, Jon noted. “Surprised to find he wasn’t you! Now, I heard a rumour that you were selected. What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Jon said, “just a change of plans.”

“Is that so?” Daenerys said and narrowed her eyes.

Jon felt himself go red under her scrutiny. To keep himself busy, he grabbed his glasses off his desk and started wiping the frame in his sweater-vest. “Sure is,” he mumbled.

“Because I heard you turned it down - in a rather childish manner, one may add.”

“One may add whatever,” Jon grimaced, “but it’s not true.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“Maybe you should stop listening to gossip,” he suggested curtly.

Daenerys sighed and pushed her fingertips up through the fur of her coat. As the fluff slipped through her fingers, she cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips, watching her hands as she said: “It’s just that I really hoped to sit on Santa’s lap.”

Jon swiftly popped on his glasses and stared at her, his face red. “Come again?”

Daenerys smirked, and Jon knew in that moment that he had played right into her plan. Her hands pushed in at the front zipper, and she slowly undid the jacket, bit by bit revealing what was underneath. “Oh, Professor,” Daenerys spoke sweetly, “I have so many wishes this year, and I just ached to sit on Santa’s lap and whisper them all in his ear. After all,” she continued, the coat slipping off her bare shoulders, and she turned to have her back face him as she spoke: “Some could have come true tonight.” With that, she let it drop, and Jon found himself speechless.

Underneath the large coat, Daenerys was wearing a small Santa outfit; the top sat just above her bosom, a narrow line of white fluff covering the elastic band keeping it in place, and the red skirt was cut so short that even when sitting the hemline didn’t cover her whole bottom. From his chair, Jon had a perfect view of her bared cheeks, and he realised at once: She is not wearing any knickers.

Before Jon could reach out to touch her, Daenerys slipped off his desk and turned, hiding her perfect arse from him. She sent him a bright smile, swung her jacket over her shoulder, and chirped: “Well, I suppose I better go see if Santa’s still available!”

“Not in that outfit!” Jon almost knocked over his desk as he jumped to his feet. His desk lamp swung close to the edge, and he grabbed it by the cord before it could fall to the floor. As he fumbled to keep everything in place, Daenerys stood looking at him with naive eyes.

“No?” she said and cocked her head. “Why not?”

“You know why,” Jon said through gritted teeth. She loves playing games with me, he thought, and he could already feel his heartbeat had quickened at the mere thought of someone else seeing Daenerys in such inappropriate attire. Not to mention anyone else having her sit in their lap. “Besides,” he added and stood up straight, snubbing out his smoke in his ashtray as he spoke, “I don’t think Santa will see you.”

“You don’t?” Daenerys said, cocking her head to the other side. Her silver curls jumped around her bare shoulders when she moved, and the locks teased her collarbone ever so flawlessly. Jon had to squeeze his hands into fists not to grab her and just have her there and then.

Instead, he bowed into her little game and shook his head sadly. “No, Santa only sees the good kids, and I’m afraid that you’ve been a very, very naughty girl.”

“Have I?” Daenerys asked and rested her hands on her back, making her bosom rise. Her breasts looked round and full beneath the skimpy fabric, and Jon licked his lips as he took in her frame.

What a silly question, he thought, after all, you have shown nothing but impertinence this whole year. He paused, reminding himself of his own position as professor, and somberly added, But I guess, so have I. Still, he continued: “Yes, indeed, miss - I reckon Santa keeps a naughty list just with your deeds on it.”

“Have I really been that bad?” Daenerys asked and feigned worry. She dropped her coat on top of one of his many piles of books. “Oh dear - whatever will I do?” She held her hand to her chin as if lost in worry, and Jon took the opportunity to slip around his desk closer to her.

“Well, miss, I suppose I could help you out.”

“Is that so, Professor Snow?” She watched him as he came closer, a small smile on her lips. “Well, I would just love to hear what you have in mind.”

“It’s not Christmas Day yet. Perhaps Santa will be more forgiving if you’ve been punished for your bad behaviour.”

“Punished, Professor?” Daenerys repeated as if vexed. As he stopped before her, she squirmed on the spot, making the skirt of the dress dance around her bottom. “How so, Professor?”

Jon gazed into her sparkling eyes and, without breaking eye contact, reached out and grabbed a hold of the back of a chair. He leaned it forward, causing all the books to drop to the floor, then dragged it behind him as he sat down in front of her. He leaned back and patted his lap. “Come here,” he said, his voice a tone darker with lust, and he could tell it sparked something inside of her.

Daenerys licked her lips, a bit of the red lipstick getting caught on her front teeth, and she tried to flatten out the back of her dress before attempting to take a seat. But she blinked in surprise as Jon held up his hand to stop her. “No?” she asked, this time not feigning confusion.

“I’m not Santa, you don’t sit on my lap,” Jon said, “you lay.”

Daenerys’ cheeks turned bright pink. “Professor!” she exclaimed as if shocked, but she smirked all the same. She took a hold of the armrest, pushing her knees onto Jon’s as she tried to move herself into position, and then finally laid down across his lap, her arms over the armrest, her legs kicked up into the air. At first, she tried to scoot her dress down but, realising it was no use due to its length, she instead glanced over her shoulder at him. “Enjoying the view?” she enquired sweetly.

Jon, caught up in the sight of Daenerys’ exposed arse, could only nod. “It’s very nice,” he admitted. If anyone else had said something so impassionate, Daenerys would have been insulted, but from Jon’s shy lips, she knew it to be true.

So she wriggled herself into place, suppressing a giggle as she felt the bulge from his trousers press against her naked sex, and she sighed: “Oh, I do hope this will teach me not to be naughty!”

I rather hope it’ll teach you the opposite, Jon thought and licked his lips again. He pushed her dress up further, his fingertips tracing her naked butt, and he shivered lightly at how warm her skin felt against his. For a moment, he took the time to enjoy himself; he gently caressed her buttocks, squeezing them to earn himself a slight squeal from her lips, and only when he was completely satisfied did he raise his hand and slap his palm to her arse. As her flesh jiggled, his cock throbbed between his legs.

“Oh, was that the breeze?” Daenerys teased and crossed her legs at the ankles. She glanced back at him and stuck out her tongue. “Surely, you can do better, Professor!”

Jon took in a sharp breath through his nose, raised his hand once more, and landed an audible slap on her arse. It was hard enough to make her gasp, but not from pain; he soon felt her wriggle closer to his groin.

“That’s more like it,” she purred in a sultry voice.

“A punishment is for naught if you enjoy it,” Jon pointed out, but he was smiling. He rubbed the area that he had just hit before giving it another slap. Her buttocks jiggled, and the skin blushed a little red, causing his smile to deepen.

“Isn’t it meant to hurt you more than me, anyway?” Daenerys asked.

“Why’s that?” Jon asked, slapping her butt again. He loved the sound it made, and how her skin heated up under his care. He rubbed his fingertips to the spot, soothing the pain.

“Well, because you love me, and it hurts you to punish someone you love,” she pointed out. Then, glancing over her shoulder and catching his pleased face, she teased: “Oh, Professor, it looks like you don’t love me at all!”

“I am just trying to make you a good girl, miss,” Jon reminded her as he landed another slap. He saw that she was about to speak again, so he silenced her with another round of spanking. As his hand fell quicker, Daenerys’ lips got too busy gasping and groaning to continue talking, and Jon rested back in his chair as he enjoyed having her squirm in his lap.

After a moment, when he was sure she was too distracted to notice, he rested his hand atop her buttocks whilst he slipped his other one between their bodies and up to her naked sex. The moment his fingertips dipped in between her wet lips, she gasped and closed her hands around the armrest, getting a good grip as his fingers explored her outside.

“Don’t be a tease,” she begged and moaned as he rounded her nub without touching it directly.

“Oh, I see - now we are getting to the punishment,” Jon said and made sure to touch her ever so slowly. He had fucked her enough times by now to know exactly what drove her crazy, and one thing he knew she loathed and yet loved was when he touched her all the right places - but took his sweet time doing so.

Indeed, Daenerys moaned and wriggled on the spot as he caressed her sex, his fingers dipping close to her entrance before retreating, only ever teasing her with the possibility of penetration. The more wet she got, the harder he felt his cock getting between his legs, and it was almost getting painful how tight his trousers were fitting around his member.

I need to fuck her, he realised with regret, because he was enjoying their slow foreplay, and he didn’t want it to end. Still, he felt a need in him so demanding that he could not ignore it. I need to fuck her again, and again, and again. But an even greater part of him thought: I need to tease her mercilessly. Somehow, that last thought took over, and so he grabbed around her waist, lifting her with him as he stood up out of the chair. At first, his legs were wobbly, his knees weak from the sight of Daenerys, but he managed to turn them around and push her down onto his desk, her back flat against the wood, and he caught her perplexed eyes before he dipped his head between her spread legs.

Before she could ask any questions, his warm tongue was on her sex, and he started licking her. He knew her taste well, yet it was as if the first time, because he still felt his heart flutter, and his cock throb, and there was a need in him to do things right. He wanted her to feel good, and so he took care to kiss and lick her lips, tasting her wet juices, before he dug in deeper, eating her from the outside in.

Daenerys moaned and reached down to push her fingers into his hair. She took a good grip of his curly locks as she gently guided him around her sex, leading him to where she wanted to be licked. “Oh, Professor,” she gasped and arched her back when he hit a particularly good spot at the edge of her nub, “you are treating me so nicely.”

Jon smiled to her lips and pushed his nose in further, eager to keep her moaning. He was breathing hotly, and the air was making his glasses steam up. This deep between her legs, and with her hands in his hair, he had no chance of seeing her nor breathing freely, but he didn’t mind it one bit; he wrapped one arm around her leg, keeping her in place, whilst he searched between his own with his free hand. In a swift motion, he undid the buttons of his trousers and pulled his cock free of his pants. His member was hot and throbbing in his hand, and he only dared to stroke it slowly as he licked her, aware that once he got going he would come soon.

“Professor Snow?” Daenerys whispered, tugging at his hair, and Jon lifted his face to look up at her. His lips were glistening from her juices, and his glasses were sitting askew his nose. The sight made her smile, and she pulled off his glasses and put them to the side before leading his face up to hers. “Have I been a good girl?”

Her words sent shivers down Jon’s body, and he could no longer resist; he reached between her legs and pushed a finger into her hot sex, feeling her close down tight around him as it wriggled inside of her. “You’ve been very good, miss,” Jon promised.

“Does that mean Santa will fulfil my wish this year?” she asked innocently, her lips shivering as Jon inserted one more finger into her.

Depends on your naughty wish, Jon thought, but still he nodded and licked his lips, tasting her on them, as he slowly fucked her with his fingers. “I should think so,” he said before asking: “What did you wish for?”

Daenerys chuckled, though her voice became a strained string of moans as Jon started fucking her quicker, his hand working wonders on her sex. The way he filled her up, pushing his thumb to her nub as he stretched as deep into her as he could - it just put her on edge. “It’s too embarrassing to say,” she whispered.

“Go on, miss,” Jon said, “it’s Christmas after all.”

“That’s just the thing,” Daenerys sighed and glanced up at Jon. Laying there on his desk, her legs spread, her cheeks red, her eyes drowning in pleasure - it was a perfect sight for him. “It’s Christmas! And, well, all I wanted to ask Santa for was you.”

Jon withdrew his fingers as he gave her a confused look. For a moment he paused. Then, he found himself asking: “Isn’t that a song?”

Daenerys sighed, her cheeks red with embarrassment, but she nodded. “Yes, Professor, it is. But it’s also true - all I want is you. For Christmas. No sneaking about. No hiding away. A long, good Christmas spent together, doing lovely things.” She paused, then licked her lips as she added: “And fucking, of course. A lot, preferably.”

That was all it took - unable to hold back any longer, Jon grabbed his cock as he positioned himself between her legs. With a swift motion, he pushed himself into her tight, wet sex, and he moaned alongside her as his fat cock stretched her inners. Sweat was rolling down his forehead in drops, and he shook his head to rid himself of it and grabbed a hold of her fleshy thighs. “Are you joking with me?” he asked, slowly pulling himself a few inches out of her before pushing back inside, causing her to rock along his desk. “You want me for Christmas?”

“We are an item, are we not?” Daenerys asked, her voice a pant. She reached up to grab a hold of his collar, her fingers digging into his white shirt as she wriggled down onto his cock. He was filling her up, and she wanted all of him; his cock, his eyes, his lips, his hands.

“Yes,” Jon said, unable to come up with a more intelligent answer as his mind was focused on her body. His hands slipped from her thighs to the top of her dress, and he tugged down the elastic band until it rested under her breasts. As he expected, she wasn’t wearing a bra either, and her naked tits rocked every time he pushed into her. The sight alone was mesmerising.

“So what’s so unbelievable about wanting to be an item at Christmas?”

“We only ever meet at university.”

“Yes?”

“I thought-” Jon felt the words get stuck in his throat, not from shyness but from strain, because his whole body was tightening up with pleasure as he continued to fuck her. He couldn’t hold back, nor did he want to; he took a hold of her hips as he started fucking her with more furore, making the desk beneath them rock. It creaked against the wooden floor as he took.

“You-” Daenerys gasped, pressing her lips together to keep her moaning down, “-what?”

“I thought-” Jon started again, leaning in over her body to look her in the eyes as he continued: “That’s what you wanted?”

Daenerys looked up into his eyes. “What - to remain here?”

“Professor and student,” Jon pointed out.

She smiled a little. “I’d say we’re way past being just that.”

“I know,” he spoke. He pushed his tongue to his inner cheek and furrowed his brows in concentration. It was hard to both talk and fuck, he found, and right now he really wanted to just take her. But he slowed down his pace, giving both of them a moment to catch their breaths.

Daenerys reached up and grabbed Jon at his cheeks, and she pulled him down until their noses touched. “Jon,” she said, and it made his heart skip a beat. Jon. She called him that often, but this time there seemed to be a deeper feeling to it. It was like hearing his name for the first time. Jon. “I want to be with you. Like, really be with you. I meant what I said last year - university is not the only place we can meet.”

Jon was still slowly rocking into her, but more than pleasure made him shiver now. Her words caused something in him to break. Normally, he would have said: But I could get fired. But now, it didn’t even seem an issue in his head. After all, he’d been ready to resign if forced to wear a Santa costume. What was a job to the love of his life?

The moment he thought it, he went bright red. Love of my life, is it now? he thought to himself, and was at once grateful that Daenerys couldn’t read his mind. Still, she must have seen something in his eyes, because she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.

It was as Jon kissed her back that he felt release in his body. His cock throbbed deep inside of her as he came, and he grunted to her lips as he spilled his seed. No sooner had he done so than she reached between her legs and gave her nub a few quick rubs - then her legs closed tight around his body as she too came, pulling him down onto her in the same.

For a moment, they both just laid close, kissing slowly as their heartbeats slowed and breathing returned to normal. Then, Jon was the first to rise, his clothes now sticking close to his sweaty skin. He pulled at his sweater vest, the fabric damp, before tucking his cock back into his pants and doing up his trousers.

Daenerys seated herself on the edge of the desk and smiled a thankful smile as Jon handed her the coat, allowing her some decency as she could cover up. She pressed her knees together and eyed the toes of her boots as they both remained silent. Then she spoke: “Look, I’m sorry, I don’t want to pressure you.”

“You’re not,” Jon said, his voice honest. He reached out and grabbed his glasses back off the desk and shyly put them on. “It’s been a year. I too want to do more outside of these four walls.” He gestured about to empathise his point, and Daenerys glanced around the old, dusty space.

“Your job still matters,” she reminded him, “and so does my education.”

“I’m afraid my flat is also made up of four walls,” Jon continued, “and it has about as much cheer as this place. But if you want-” he paused, waiting for her to look him in the eyes before he continued, “if you want, then I’d love for you to come spend Christmas with me.”

He saw it at once - something inside of her lit up, so brightly that he could have believed the curtains were pulled and the sun was streaming in. She’s been waiting for me to ask her, he realised with an ache to his heart, how did I not see before? But it didn’t matter - she eagerly threw her arms around him as she hugged him close.

“I’d love to,” she whispered to his ear, and Jon pressed his nose into her hair as he smiled.

“Me too.”

That night, Jon received a reminder from her on his pager: 1225. 12-25. Christmas Day - and he could hardly wait.