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I Got Into My Stalker's Car

Chapter Text


It was the worst day in existence for one Sansa Stark, the daughter of Eddard -  or Ned as his friends called him -  and Catelyn Stark. She stormed up the long dark wooden stairs and into her bedroom, closing the door softly behind her; showing her anger would only get her a lecture. The fifteen year old with bold red hair had just been told she was to marry Joffrey Baratheon when she was eighteen, an arranged marriage? Who even did that in the modern world? They'd grown up together, constantly forced to be around one another since they were the same age and their fathers were friends. Sansa had liked him at first, he was handsome with big blue eyes. However as they had gotten older she'd discovered the true Joffrey, he was vile and cruel, lacking in a moral compass or conscience; Jiminy Cricket had taken one look at the blonde and backed away as quickly as possible. Joffrey Baratheon was a monster ! At age twelve just hadn't been able to keep the act of being a sweet boy up any longer his evil intent had seeped through his mask and turned everything red, Sansa had hated him ever since but she'd never been able to make her parents understand that; he kept the act up when with them. Now all she got was kisses and flowers for Joffrey's harsh words, for the slaps and punches, for the hate-filled threats, for the pain that never left a bruise; he never left a mark. That was just what he did to her, she knew there were others, others that suffered at his hand while he laughed. She was scared to say anything to her parents again, partly because of the consequences the blonde bastard would inflict upon her but mainly because of the look of disappointment she'd receive from her mother.

Sansa knew something was seriously wrong with Joffrey, she needed to leave him, well, she'd never actually agreed to date him it was just sort of decided by the blonde monster, but her parents seemed so happy for her and Cersei liked knowing Joffrey had a play thing. Bitch! Sansa had always been the good girl, the one who didn't get called to the principles office, the one who got an A in every class. Arya was the troublesome daughter not Sansa, she did all her homework and the after school clubs her Mother had all but forced on her.

Sansa collapsed on her pink bed: Gods I hate pink . No one seemed to notice just how unhappy the fifteen year old was, she felt trapped , her azure eyes cast over the room looking at the things that really made her smile; the gifts. She'd gotten a gift every birthday and Christmas from some unknown person since her tenth birthday, because she'd grown up supposedly deeply in love with Joffrey everyone assumed they were from him, special gifts that were some kind of tradition they never spoke about but Sansa knew the truth. Joffrey wasn't anywhere near thoughtful enough to send her the gifts, they were beautiful and tailored to her tastes, someone had put a lot of thought into them. T hey certainly hadn't come from the spiteful and self-absorbed blonde. In all honesty Sansa had no idea where they came from, who they came from and she didn't much care. These presents twice a year made her happy, something she didn't experience all that often, so she'd let her family believe it was Joffrey because it avoided questions of who really sent them.

Maybe she should have been worried or at least a bit concerned about who sent them but it was the mystery she liked. Her favourite was perched on her night table and had been since Sansa's twelfth birthday, it was a Fabergé Carousel and far more expensive than anything else in her room. The expense of it wasn't the reason Sansa adored it though, its base was a little bigger than the size of her palm and was about a foot high . The carousel was white with gold detailing that she had no doubt was actual gold, she didn't deserve such a gift but Sansa did appreciate it greatly. There were four gold en horses each with a different colored saddle and reins encrusted in little stones; red, blue, green and clear. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the stones were and Sansa guarded it with her life, even Arya behaved herself around the Fabergé Carousel; surprisingly. It was like something only a Princess would have with its delicate metal work that looked like soft gold fabric draped around the edge.

There was another gift she adored, a necklace that she kept around her neck at all times; her very first give which had been received at the tender ago of ten. The silver colored chain held a pendant in the shape of a small letter 'S' with a tiny diamond in it, as a child she'd thought it was just a bit of pretty costume jewellery however, on a whim the previous year she'd gone to a jewellery store to find it was in fact a diamond and it wasn't silver but platinum, money was clearly no object to whomever sent her the presents and it made Sansa feel special. Such simplicity but highly effective, exactly what Sansa liked from clothing or jewellery.

Maybe the fact that her parents thought it was from Joffrey and Sansa had worn it every day since she was ten was the reason they were all but forcing her to marry him. Sansa was fifteen, a virgin and hated the blonde brat with a passion, how could they promise her to him? When you're old enough of course, her father had said, he didn't seem as on board with the idea as her mother . It wasn't the seventeen hundreds, but everyone seemed so happy for Sansa and she didn't want to upset them. That was part of Sansa's problem, she always ended up going along with things because it made her family happy rather than taking a stand and just telling them what she wanted.

Sometimes she thought about running away, just vanishing into the night, not even leaving a note. No more straight As, no more mind-numbing and spirit crushing extra curricular activities on a daily basis, no more overbearing parents, no more religion, no more Sunday school and best of all no more Joffrey- fucking -Baratheon. Where would she go though? That was where her plan came crashing down around her, Aunt Lysa was crazy as fuck with a n out of control son, Uncle Edmure had just had a new baby and didn't seem to like Sansa all that much; they'd both tell her mother anyway so there was no point. Ned's family was dead, and Jeyne Poole would be the first person they went to looking for her; Sansa had nowhere to go.

Sansa sighed, deep and exasperated. Tomorrow was another day of exactly the same as the one before save for the fact she had a history test.

“What fun.” She breathed before standing up and going to her large window to the right of her annoyingly pink bed.

Looking through the huge pane of glass she could see the woods that surrounded her home, it had always made her feel safe though she had no idea why. Maybe that was where her guardian angel dwelled. The redhead said nor thought anything as she stared out into the darkness of night, everything lay silent and quiet except for the sound of Arya's radio in the next room but Sansa tuned that out; a new day was coming.

Meanwhile out in the far off tree line stood a man gazing through his binoculars to see the young redhead. Petyr Baelish, raven hair greying at the temples perfectly combed and a neat goatee coating his ever so slightly tanned face, he wasn't an overly tall man but the power and authority that resonated from him made up for that in abundance. He wore a charcoal suit with a matching tie and plum shirt, he didn't often wear a tie which explained why it had been pulled loose and the top few buttons of his shirt were open. Over the top was a black hoodie helping him to blend even further into the dark woodland, he knew no one could see him from his hiding spot amongst nature but he liked to be cautious. His usual mockingbird pin attached to his lapel glinting slightly in the moonlight. Stormy eyes watched Sansa via the binoculars, she was so beautiful. A Goddess. Fire red hair hung loosely around her milk white face as though it were a cloak while she fingered the necklace he'd given her so long ago. Petyr liked that, it was as though he was always with her, resting at the crevice of her breasts. When he looked at Sansa everything slowed and his mind stopped for a time just letting him bask in her perfect beauty rather than working like he normally did. Sansa Stark gave him peace. His beautiful little girl. Petyr had no idea how long he stood there but it was long enough that he needed to return to work, the man with eyes the color of moss didn't want to leave her though, never did, especially on the days she looked sad. Something had upset her he could see it, Petyr would find out what had caused it though and if there was something he could do to fix it he would; Petyr would do anything to make his little girl happy. His Sweetling. Oh how he wanted to hold her in his arms again.


Petyr sat in his penthouse on the large black leather couch that stood in the centre of the open plan room. To his left stood the kitchen with black marble counter tops and breakfast bar tucked under the catwalk, ahead of him was the large wall mounted television and stairs that led off to his bedroom s , Petyr's right found a two-story wall to wall window that let him look down over the city. Behind him was the balcony with an equally stunning view b ut he wasn't interested in any of that, Baelish's full attention was firmly locked on the photograph of Sansa Stark in his hand , his beautiful girl. Every Christmas or birthday Petyr would take a picture of her, a gift to himself; it would have been cheep if he did it every day. The dark-haired man didn't edit them into photographs together or have a collage of her on his bedroom wall, that was just strange, even to him. He was not a stalker, or at least in his head he wasn't; stalkers usually didn't go unnoticed for almost six years. Petyr liked to think of himself more as a guardian angel or a secret protector to the most beautiful thing in creation. The hand not gripping the photograph of Sansa brought a cut crystal tumbler glass up to his lips so he could take a sip of aged whiskey, what does she taste like? He wondered.

In the newest image Sansa had her hair neatly braided over her right shoulder and w ore a floral dress that came down to just above her knee paired with a little black leather jacket. The necklace he'd given her hung around her neck as usual and Petyr knew Cat e lyn would never approve of the outfit, you're dressed like Jezebel , he expected she would have said. Oh his sweet little girl could be naughty when she wanted to be, he liked that.

Petyr set the glass down and finally let his hand slip to cup himself through his pants, he wanted to touch her, kiss her, taste her. The sound of his belt opening echoed around the room bouncing off the wall s but the dark-haired man was deaf to it as he took himself in hand. He imagined the stunning on her knees for him, hot wet mouth working his hard length. She was perfect, delicate and careful but clearly inexperienced just like he knew she would be. Petyr imagined slipping his hand into her red hair, letting his fingers scrape against her scalp and their eyes locked while she sucked him. He let his mind fill with thoughts of touching the back of her throat and feeling the vibration when she hummed around him; her little floral dress clinging to her body in all the right places. Petyr's hand moved faster up and down his length imagining her tongue swirling around the head until he couldn't take it any more and came, hard. White erupted behind his eyes with Sansa's name on his lips.

Gods he wanted her.

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It was one -thirty-nine in the morning when Sansa fled the house, no one heard her, never did. Leaving the house was a common occurrence of late, she felt suffocated at home and vanishing into the cold night once everyone had gone to bed was the best way of dealing with that. The bottle of red wine that hung loosely from one hand was just to aid in her relaxation, her parents would never notice it was gone; they hadn't even let Robb have a glass with dinner until long after he'd finished college. They were so overprotective, well her mother was anyway, and it was beginning to crush the redhead, yes she wasn't legally an adult but she wasn't a child either, Sansa could think for herself despite what her mother said.

The dark night air was freeing and helped to calm her mind, Sansa had always been a night person at heart. There was a cold scent to the air the smell of grass left over from the park having been mowed that morning, it was fresh and relaxing; just what she needed. Soon enough the swing sets came into view and and Sansa sat herself down the second she was close enough, the moon hung high and silvery in the sky, perfect for the wolves to howl at. The place was deserted just as anyone would suspect at such a hour but there was the occasional car that drove passed, they were few and far between but they were there.

She wasn't best dressed for the cold dead of night what with her daisy dukes and peach tank top but it was the only time she could dress with some skin on show, the rest of the time it was skirts down to her ankles or slacks that made her look like a blob rather than revealing she actually had a few curves. Her parents, mainly her mother, were far too conservative; no make-up, no shorts or skirts above mid calf, no tattoos, no piercings beyond ears, no rock music, no movies or television that wasn't in some way to do with God, no video games, no smoking, no swearing, no skipping church or Sunday school, no sex, no alcohol, no parties. Okay most fifteen year olds were excluded from the last few but Sansa felt smothered and she knew Arya felt the same.

Petyr watched from his car, she wouldn't be able to see him but he could clearly see her, green -grey eyes scanned over her pale thighs as she drank the wine, Sansa didn't drink to get drunk but because she wasn't supposed to, anyone could see that. Baelish could read his little girl better than a book.

Naughty little girl.” He grinned.

Baelish decided there and then that he'd get her a bottle of champagne for her sixteenth birthday, it was amusing to think of Catelyn's reaction; she'd never been able to take a joke. Petyr had spent a long time pranking her as a child with the aid of Lysa, that crazy bitch would have done anything he asked of her; still would. He'd love d Catelyn when they were young but now Sansa was his world. She was so much more beautiful than her mother.

Long ago Catelyn had invited him to a barbecue the Stark's had been putting on for the church, why the hell he'd been invited he had no idea, Lysa and Edmure had been there too so he'd assumed it was some kind of family reunion as well. He'd only gone because he'd missed Catelyn, then he'd seen little ten year old Sansa, bold red hair and pale skin; she was perfect in every way imaginable. He'd found her sat at the top of the stairs when he'd left the bathroom, he was going to just walk passed her but when he saw she was crying something inside him just made him want to take care of her and had ever since. Are you alright? He'd asked, Petyr remembered the way she'd jumped with shock. Yes sir. She'd answered quickly but he wasn't stupid, he'd known just how miserable she was and Petyr could empathise, as a child he'd not had much choice in anything either and after living with the Tully family as a child meant he understood exactly the crushing weight Sansa was under. He had asked her about what had upset her and she'd started to mumbled something about her mother not letting her be friends with some one because they were not good for her when Catelyn had appeared and all but dragged her daughter away from him. Ever since Petyr had been obsessed with the girl, not that he would ever use that word, yes he watched her on a daily basis but Petyr wasn't planning on kidnapping her and raping her; he just want to be near Sansa.

The older man stared at her from his car – an Aston Martin DB5, classic and beloved – as she finished the last of the wine and went back and forth on the swing set for a while, eventually though Sansa stood, discarded the empty bottle and made her way home. Petyr followed of course, couldn't have anyone try to hurt his girl. It was only when she vanished inside the house that Petyr headed home. His Sweetling was safe.


The sun was high in the sky with out a cloud anywhere to be seen and outside Sansa could hear another class running track, all in all it was a reasonably peaceful day. She sat in her English class staring down at the text before her and was actually content, Sansa enjoyed English because the teacher generally left her alone. The down side was that Joffrey insisted on sitting next to her and constantly yapping on about how perfect he was, she knew he was going to be a nightmare after school, that was why she tried to enjoy the day. Pretty much everyone in the room had laughed at him for not being able to read the text they were studying out loud, Joffrey wasn't a reader so much so that he would take her books and destroy them if he saw her with one.

The blonde was nothing like Sansa's mystery gift giver who had given her a first edition of Jane Eyre for her thirteenth birthday, she'd treasured it ever since. At the time all her parents had said was oh how sweet of Joffrey. If Sansa ever told anyone about the presents they'd tell her to bin the lot and go running to the police but she would never do that, whoever they came from wanted to make her happy, every single one of those presents made her smile so why should she be afraid of who sent them, they'd never come near her, never hurt her. The mystery person was a better friend than anyone she'd ever known and Sansa would keep them a hidden, someone only she knew about. A secret that was all Sansa's.

The stunning redhead stayed quiet for most of the class, only answering two questions, one that Missus Mordane had asked her and one that no one seemed to know the answer to. Everything else was just book work and Joffrey copied off her as usual; Sansa did her best to ignore him.

After English only Geography was left for the day which Joffrey was normally quiet in because he was far too busy lusting over their teacher; Sansa could have some peace. They were studying Dorne and Sansa hoped one day she could go, if her parents and Joffrey got there way though she'd never leave the house. Dorne was a whole world away and called to the redhead, it was one of the places she'd thought of running away to but of course money was needed for that and Sansa had none. Only a miracle could save her from marring Joffrey now.

When Geography class was over and since it was the one day of the week that Sansa didn't have some stupid extra curricular club she'd hoped to escape her blonde fiancé and maybe go to the park with Jeyne, that was never to happen though. As they walked out the main gated Joffrey grabbed at her, half a second later the heavens opened and sheets of rain came tumbling down like some kind of Shakespearian play, the fifteen year old was drenched through in an instant which only seemed to spur Joffrey on. His hands gripped her hips and slid down to cup her backside then back up to her breasts, she didn't want this.

“Stop struggling! You're mine, always will be and I'll do as I want with my little bitch.” His voice was filled with venom. “It's my sixteenth party next week and you're stupid parents will let you come because it's with me, and when everyone is having fun I'm finally going to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours.”

Sansa's heart thudded in her chest and her breathing bordered on hyperventilating, when he leaned in to kiss her something in Sansa snapped and she found the strength to push him way from her into a puddle before bolting away to the nearest car and jumping in. She'd expected a mother with young children – which when she though about it later would seem silly since the car was a classic Aston Martin – but instead she got a lone man who looked rather shocked to see her.

“Please drive.” She half begged, half demanded. “Please?”

He couldn't say no to his little girl.

Chapter Text

Petyr's mind beamed with happiness as he drove away from the school, for a few moments he'd stared at her thinking he'd finally lost it and gone insane but no, the stunning redhead he had adored for almost six years was actually sat in his car dripping wet; he could just see her pale green bra through her shirt and his inner beast growled . All he wanted to do was pull over and ravage her, kiss her all over and bite down on her neck marking her as his, he grinned smugly to himself ; imagine Catelyn's face. Baelish knew that when Sansa had dove in to his car she meant drive her out of sight or a few blocks away, Petyr didn't do that though. Instead, Sansa's stalker turned the car towards his home while rain thrashed down on the windshield, Sansa kept her head down at her feet and remained silent as he drove, the faint scent of cigarette smoke filled the car . Cold water drip, drip, dripped from her perfect fiery locks down onto his car's hand finished interior but the adult couldn't have cared less, his girl could have started a fire in his back seat while singing about aliens and he would have done nothing more than listen with intent happiness. She was so close, all he had to do was reach out and touch her, but he didn't. Petyr knew better.

Rain only seemed to come down harder as they neared his home, the sky was almost black thanks to the thick clouds. The weather was all but ignored. Sansa never spoke, not once, not even when he drove into the underground parking lot for his club and parked. Has she even noticed where I've taken her? He wondered. With the engine silent Petyr stepped out of the car with a come on and was happy when she simply did as he said, she'd clearly been lost in her own thoughts. The two walked over to Petyr's private elevator and the world seemed to come back to Sansa, dragging her bag along with her , blue eyes zoomed around the parking lot and then over to the man she was following. Did I really get into a strangers car and ask him to take me anywhere Joffrey wasn't? This was dangerous but she was dripping wet and not sure where she was. The stranger wasn't overly tall, in fact they were probably the same height , his hair was perfectly combed and greying at the temples which made him look distinguished rather than old. The suit he wore, black with matching shirt, looked tailored and Sansa didn't doubt that it was, from the Aston Martin he drove it wasn't hard to see this stranger had money. Cerulean orbs watched as the stranger reached for the number panel beside the elevator and punched in the code.


Sansa didn't mean to look but she did anyway, underneath the numbers were letters just like any other security pad , those numbers have to mean something to him because his elevator code is not my fucking name. Coincidence, had to be. There was a ping that both signalled the elevators arrival and pulled the teenager from her thoughts; was she really going to go into this strange man's home? When the doors rolled open the stranger stepped aside to let her go first which she did, yes, it seemed she was going into the strangers home. Looking around the elevator as it rose Sansa's eyes found The Mockingbird in silver above the doors and a bird logo in the middle of each mirrored wall, she knew that logo.

“You live above The Mockingbird club?” She asked, her voice was a little shaky but that was from the cold rain that clung to her rather than fear.

“I do, yes.” He responded, his voice was deep and dominant, something inside of Sansa made her want to lean closer. “I own the place.”

“I've always wanted to go. A friend of mine's brother practically lives in there and he's always telling her how fun it is, won't say what he does in there though.”

Hmm, probably fucking one of my girls... or boys , Petyr thought to himself while watching a stray drop of rain roll down her neck and vanish under her soaked shirt.

“Law says I can't let you in but what they don't know won't hurt them.” He grinned and Sansa matched it softly. “Maybe later I'll show you around since we're closed.”

Gods he needed her to stay, Petyr wasn't a religious man but for his darling little girl to stay he'd pray to anyone who'd listen. The New Gods, the Old, that weird faceless god, anyone .

“I'd just like to be dry.”

It was beginning to confuse Sansa as to why she trusted this man, this stranger, he could be anyone and yet she stayed, made no attempt to go home. Why? Sansa knew but she couldn't quite admit it to herself, he showed her respect and wasn't treating her like a child, that was deeply refreshing. That bit she could admit, what she couldn't admit was that she didn't want to leave, his voice did something to her and those stormy green eyes just made her feel safe.

Meanwhile Baelish just stood there on the ride up, he could smell the coconut from her shampoo, sweet and perfect in every way, all Petyr wanted to do was grab hold of her and never let Sansa go; she was so close to being his. Sansa was his little girl, no one else's. When Joffrey had attacked her in the rain Petyr had dug his nails into his steering wheel to the point that they almost snapped just to keep from launching out the car and killing him, he'd not had to worry though, his little girl had found all that bravery he knew she had deep down and fought him off; he was so proud of her. Maybe Sansa knew she was his, could sense who she belonged to deep down in her soul. Petyr couldn't give the game away though, couldn't scare his little Sweetling and so he kept his distance. First thing was to get her warm and dry, poor thing was dripping wet, he nearly moaned when his mind took him to other meanings. I want you so badly, Sweetling! If he'd been confined one more second in that elevator he'd have crashed his lips to hers but thankfully the elevator pinged again and the silver doors rolled open.

Sansa stepped out in awe, his home was beautiful, open plan and a mix of rich silver, purple and black. There was a large modern kitchen to her left made of light marble floors and black counter tops, a sleek black grand piano stood opposite the elevator doors that then led on to a glamorous balcony, it must have been wonderful to just sit out there relaxing when the sun was shining. The whole wall in front of her as Sansa was lead into the living room she quickly noticed a glass wall opposite the staircase that had the most beautiful view of the city she'd ever seen, even in the harsh rain. The leather L shaped couch looked soft and perfect to fall asleep on and she'd never seen a television as big as the one mounted to the wall, there were stairs that wandered off to a second floor and the redhead found herself just wanting to explore, she couldn't though.

“You're home is beautiful.” She told him honestly and was pleased to see a little half smile on his lips.

“Thank you. Come on.” He swelled with pride, Sansa should have only ever been surrounded by beauty.

Petyr gestured for the redhead to follow him upstairs – seemed Sansa would get that tour she wanted – feet came to a halt outside a dark door at the end of the hall, he pushed the door open while Sansa shuffled her basic yellow bag over her shoulder.

“The bathroom. Take a shower and get warm, there's a robe on the door you can put on.” His voice remained level and gave nothing away.

“Thank you, you're very kind.” The teenager took two or three steps into the bathroom before stopping and turning back to the stranger. “What's your name? I just realised I haven’t asked.”

“Petyr.” He'd been wondering how long it would take for her to ask.

“I'm Sansa Stark. It's nice to meet you, Petyr.”

With that she was in the bathroom with the door separating them. Oh it certainly is, Little One. Not the first time though. Petyr called through the door.

“Leave your wet clothes outside the door, I'll wash them for you.”

He heard a muffled affirmative through the heavy wood door before walking off to his own bedroom, he'd wanted to stand there and wait but knew she'd think that odd plus he really wanted out of his own wet clothes, they were only damp compared to Sansa's but still he needed to change. The walls were a dark grey almost black with one wall solid glass just like downstairs, with the flick of a switch the window was covered over by a large black curtain. Cherry red wood covered the floor, the bed had been made up with plum colored sheets that matched the padded headboard feature wall above it.

It didn't take him long to shed off the offending fabric and cast it into his hamper, Petyr slipped on another pair of black slacks and a navy polo shirt that showed off his toned arms , he didn't bother with shoes or socks. Sansa was in his house. Naked in his shower. That was all he wanted, for her to be there with him, to keep her and take care of her. Petyr fell down onto his bed imagining the hot water cascading over Sansa's supple white flesh, wet nipples standing to attention begging to be touched. Moss colored eyes snapped open when his body twitched with interest, he couldn't indulge, not while Sansa could hear him. Instead Petyr pushed himself up and his arousal down before going to the bathroom door, just as he'd requested her sodden clothing lay neatly folded on a towel in an attempt to avoid soaking the floor; such a thoughtful little girl. Without a word he gathered them all up and went downstairs to his small laundry room and put them in the wash, not before breathing in the scent of her though, she naturally smelt like flowers and winter, like a cherry tree in bloom covered with soft white snow.


A short while later Sansa emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a black robe, his black robe, oh that made him growl possessively, it was too big for her in the shoulders but not so bad that she looked like she'd vanish into the soft fabric. Her fiery hair hung damp around her shoulders and Petyr longed to run his fingers through the beautiful locks, Sansa yawned.

“Why don't you lay down for a while?” He asked partly because she was tired and partly to make her stay longer. “I'll wake you when your clothes are dry.”

“That's really kind, but I don't want to be more of a bother than I already have been.” She smiled softly.

“You can't leave until they're dry anyway and you look tired.” Petyr reasoned.

She can't leave, not yet, not ever. He'd debated just kidnapping her before but had decided against the idea, he wanted Sansa to stay with him freely rather than keeping her locked up where she was scared.

“Maybe you're right.”

“I usually am.” He smirked. “The couch is comfy enough.”

Sansa smiled and thanked him before going over to the black leather couch and settling down, it didn't take her long to settle her pretty head down on a soft white pillow and fall into the realm of dreams, he'd thought it would take a while what with being half naked in the home of a man she'd only just met and who was more than twice her age; she proved him wrong though. As soon Sansa's breathing had levelled out and Petyr was sure she was asleep he walked silently to the back of his couch and just watched her chest rise and fall, she was the most beautiful and perfect thing in creation, too good for Joffrey Baratheon and his goons. She was the smartest person in her family but no one ever saw it, Petyr did, he saw it, saw that she could play the game if someone only taught her how, saw that the future Catelyn had planned out for her would only make his little girl miserable. Just because Sansa was the spitting image of her mother didn't make them the same person.

After a while Sansa wriggled in her slumber and turned over letting the robe fall open just enough to see her pink nipples, a hand desperately wanted to reach out to cup her soft supple breast, just the idea almost made him moaned. If he touched her he'd want more and Petyr couldn't risk that, not for a minor moment of sexual gratification, he wanted Sansa to give herself to him willingly rather than stealing touches. Petyr pulled on the robe and gave the sleeping beauty back her dignity, he'd waited five years and seven months to see Sansa in his home and Petyr was going to bask in it, for hours he just sat and watched the sweet little girl only getting up to move her clean clothes to the dryer.

The sun had long since gone down and Sansa's sleeping face had been bathed in moonlight, she was beautiful like a princess cut from marble. Petyr told her that he'd wake her but he couldn't bring himself to do so, how could he put an end to such a goddess snoozing in the moonlight?

That was how Petyr fell asleep, with green-grey eyes locked on Sansa.

Chapter Text

Sansa awoke to the smell of bacon spitting in a pan and bright sunlight pouring in through the large floor to ceiling window, it took her a moment to realise where she was and calm down. Though the calm didn't last long, if the sun was coming up then she'd been there all night, that forced her to bolt awake with wide eyes and utter panic. Throwing her head round in every direction she finally found Petyr with his back to her at the oven top, he wore another pair of black slacks and a grey dress shirt that clung to his lean form effortlessly; Sansa let her azure eyes gaze over him for a while until the world once again came back to her.

“Why didn't you wake me? My parents are going to kill me and I'm late for school!”

Sansa pushed herself up from the black leather couch.

“I'm sorry, I was going to wake you but I fell asleep too.” It wasn't a complete lie. He turned a little to reveal a frying pan and flashed his girl a smile before turning back. “I only woke up a short while ago but I thought you'd be hungry.”

“I need to call my parents. Christ, I'm going to get grounded for the rest of my life. Nothing new there then. I never get to do anything.” The last bit was added more as an after thought than anything else.

Sansa dove for her bag and pulled out her phone faster than she'd ever moved before, dead. Her fucking phone was dead and if Sansa didn't get back to her parents soon she would be too, her hands shook knowing her Mother would waste no time getting to yell at her; the word 'responsibility' was going to crop up more than once for damn sure.

“Do you have a landline?” She asked desperately, Petyr didn't seem overly concerned when he turned back to face her.

“No one has a landline anymore, Sweetling.” He said flatly. “Get dressed and then come eat, after I'll drive you to school. You're clothes are on the end of the couch.”

Sansa watched as Petyr tipped scrambled eggs and bacon out onto plates and set them on the breakfast bar. Baelish didn't want her to go but he'd let her if he had to.

“Okay.” Sansa relented as she pulled her folded clothes into her arms and ran off to the bathroom.

Petyr couldn't help but think about his girl slipping on that check school skirt of hers and that little green bra, she was utterly perfect. It didn't take long for Sansa to come back with her uniform in perfect order; which just made Petyr want to rip it off her all the more. He set a cup of coffee full of sugar and cream down by Sansa's place and gestured for her to sit which his girl did, the redhead took a bite and shot Petyr a smile before he turned back to get himself a cup.

“I made you scrambled eggs since you don't like fried.”

Suddenly Sansa's movements grounded to a halt, fork half way to her mouth. How does he know that? Petyr tensed, he could feel her questioning blue eyes on him.

“I'm not supposed to know that, am I?” He sighed


After what felt like an hour to Sansa Petyr finally turned round to face her, the redhead felt her heartbeat spike and her eyes filled with fear. Petyr saw it and wanted to kick himself, all he'd ever wanted to do was take care of his girl and now she was afraid of him.

“How... how do you know that?” She managed to question. He sighed again.

“The same way I know you hate pink but your parents won't let you redecorate your bedroom. That you love Gothic literature, you prefer root beer to cola, you're smarter than people give you credit for and your favourite food is lemon cakes."

“You're the one who sent the gifts.” It wasn't a question.

Clever girl Petyr thought with a hidden grin, she was far smarter than people gave her credit for.

“Yes.” He admitted. “And you like them.” Petyr gestured to elegant necklace around her neck that Sansa so often fiddled with.

Are you going to keep me here?”

The older man was pleased to find that the initial fear had faded form her voice, braver than people think too.

No, my little girl. I want you to stay but I won't force you, I don't want you to be miserable.”

Petyr wanted her willingly, none of this Stockholm Syndrome shit.

Then let me go.” Her voice didn't shake and Petyr was proud of her for that.

“I'll take you to school-” She cut him off.

“No, just let me go.”

The dark-haired man with grey at his temples nodded and walked over to the elevator flashing his keycard over the sensor, it was the only way to call the elevator. Sansa grabbed her backpack and rushed inside the elevator, she was about to hit the ground button when she paused for a moment.

Is your name even Petyr?” Sansa was sceptical.

Yes. Goodbye for now, Sansa.”

With that the redhead slammed her and down on the button as the doors slid shut Sansa ripped the necklace from her neck and threw it at him, it hit him in the chest before falling to the floor. The impact was soft and almost unnoticeable save for the clattering noise it made when the chain hit the hardwood floor, his heart though, it felt like it had been ripped from his chest leaving a gaping hole in his chest. Had his girl rejected him or was she just angry? Was there hope? Either there was or he'd create hope where none existed, Petyr Baelish never gave up!

With Sansa gone he was left alone with two plates of uneaten breakfast, Sansa's necklace and the smell of her shampoo. That was nowhere near what he'd planned for the big reveal of who he was, Petyr planned for everything except, it seemed, for his stupid slip up. Petyr didn't make mistakes like this.




It was heading towards afternoon when Sansa got home, after knowing she was at The Mockingbird it was reasonably easy to get home, a long trip but at least she knew where she was going. As soon as Sansa shut the front door her mother launched at her.

“Sansa Stark! Where have you been?!” She screamed, red in the face. “You're father is worried sick about you, Robb and Jon have been looking for you half the night.”

S ansa thought quickly.

“I'm sorry, Mother. Jeyne and I were at Margaery's house after school to do our homework. We fell asleep, I'm sorry.”

Every word was a lie, Margaery was Joffrey's friend not Sansa'a and Jeyne had been out of town with her parents for a meal with estranged family.

You better be Sansa Stark! You never do that again, do you understand me? Never!”

Sansa was pretty sure that all the Gods could hear her mother at this point.

“I'm sorry.” The younger woman muttered.

You need to be more responsible Sansa.” Said her mother, voice calming but still stern. “And I don't remember giving you permission to go to Margaery's house. Take some responsibility for your actions. Now get changed and get to school, you can't miss anymore than you already have.”

Sansa charged up the stairs just to get away from her overbearing mother while Catelyn went to call off the search for her. As soon as the door was shut behind her Sansa burst into tears. The fifteen year old knew she should have told her parents about Petyr and what he'd done but they would have probably thought she was making it all up, over active imagination they'd say, needs to be more responsible. Yes, maybe going home with a random stranger had not been the wisest move but that didn't change that she was the most responsible person in her family. Arya spent her days getting into fights and hanging out with Gendry Waters who was even older than Sansa, no one ever batted an eyelid at that, Bran had constantly been climbing up things and paid the price. Robb was the golden child no matter what he did and Jon, he was the walking and talking flag of infidelity her father had made yet Sansa was the irresponsible one? She had done everything her parents wanted and yet she still wasn't good enough, Arya could get away with murder but Sansa couldn't even ware a skirt without being told to change and stop acting like a Jezebel.

Petyr had been kind and taken care of her, everything in her bedroom that she adored was from him. Why had she thrown her necklace at him? Sansa loved that necklace and felt naked without it, she hadn't thrown it out of fear, disgust or even anger, it had been shock. Shock that the one mystery person who had made her happy all her life was some kind of stalker who owned The Mockingbird club.

Sansa! School now!” She heard her mother shout up the stairs, anger still filling her voice.

With a sigh the young redhead wiped her face and left for school, she didn't change, the uniform she wore was clean and smelt like him, why is that comforting?

Lunch had gotten around half way through when Sansa finally showed up at school, Joffrey found her in about five seconds flat at the lunch line and went straight to making stupid jokes about where she'd been and touching her. To anyone else it would have looked cute and romantic with his hands on her hips but Sansa could feel his nails digging in . ' As soon as were out of sight I'm going to give you one hell of a slap for running off', he'd told her as she ate, ' I own you and you'll do as you're told'.

Meanwhile across town The Mockingbird was getting ready for opening that evening. Petyr pressed a large hand over his breast pocket as the elevator took him down to the club, the small weight of Sansa's necklace hung there, a piece of her close to him. Instead of going to the school to watch his little girl leave Petyr went to his office and locked himself away with his work, he doubted Sansa had said anything about him, if she had Catelyn would have shown up by now. He'd leave his girl alone for a few days, didn't want to crowd her, Petyr would leave her to calm down.




When Sansa arrived home along with Arya she was sent to bed without dinner like a five-year old who'd drawn on the walls. Her sister had just laughed as the redhead walked off upstairs, she didn't mind going to her room she didn't want to talk to anyone and couldn't cope with Arya's ha ha Sansa got yelled at. The teenager fell flat on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her hated pink bedroom, only when she remembered it wasn't there did Sansa realise her fingers were searching for the platinum chain that called her neck home. How was it that Petyr had watched her for years and kept her in his penthouse yet as soon as she got home she felt like her parents were the kidnappers?

Sansa had always been lonely, Arya all but hated her – or at least that was how it felt – and took any opportunity to tease her sister – Arya was certainly in her bitchy teen years – Robb spent most of his time working or with his girlfriend of the last four years, Talisa. Bran and Rickon spent most of their time together and it was hard to have a decent conversation with Rickon since he was so young. Sansa had more in common with Jon than the others and he was about to join the military and head up north for basic training, much to her mother's pleasure since Jon wasn't her son; not that Catelyn would ever admit that out loud. Once Jon was gone she'd basically be alone.

Sure her parents said they loved her and put a roof over her head but nothing she ever did was good enough, she never felt important, as long as Sansa got straight As and did her homework she was fine as far as her parents were concerned. However, if she didn't Sansa was throwing a tantrum; she just couldn't win. Maybe some of it was her teenage mind and all the hormones flooding her brain, but she'd always felt like this. She didn't want to go to the after school clubs or Sunday school but she didn't get much choice.

“It would be funny to see her face if I told Mother I don't believe in God.”

Sansa stripped out of her clothes and threw on her pyjamas before winding the fabergé carousel and clambering into her bed. She fell asleep to thoughts of Petyr the stalker.

Chapter Text

Two days later when the sky was covered over by a thick cloud layer saw the return of Petyr's car, Sansa had been looking for it since she'd left his penthouse and now there it was again. Her heart quickened the second she saw Aston Martin. She and Jeyne left the school later than the other kids since she was forced to attend the math club and Jeyne actually needed to; mathematics was not that girls strong suit. Jeyne paid no attention to Petyr, he was just a guy sat in his car to her but Sansa knew better, she wasn't afraid of him though that much she knew. For a second she debated asking for her necklace but that would call forth far too many questions from Jeyne and Sansa didn't need that, the redhead didn't want to ignore him though especially when he knew she'd seen him, even flashed her a devilish grin that made her cheeks red. After a split second of thought Sansa offered him a wave as they walked passed his car, she kept eye contact with him long enough for Petyr to mouth the words hello Sweetling.

“Do you know him?” Jeyne's question pulled Sansa's mind back to her friend.

“Hmm? Oh, he's a friend of my Mother's.” If Sansa only knew how close to the truth she was. “Must be waiting for his daughter.”

The two carried on walking down the street but Sansa could still feel his eyes on her.

“What's his name? He's cute for an old guy.”

“He's not old.Sansa insisted. “And I don't remember his name, something with a P.”

The entire time Sansa's mind was screaming at her. Lie! Lie! Lie! Thankfully Jeyne didn't question her too much on the stranger after that they just walked home, or as far as they could before Sansa was forced to turn one way and her friend the other. Since the whole not coming home incident Sansa wasn't allowed to see Jeyne or Margaery, basically Sansa wasn't allowed any friends anymore.

Sansa walked up the drive hoping she could just go upstairs take a shower and read the first edition copy of Jane Eyre Petyr had given her - it was strange to have a name and face to go with the gifts – no such luck for Sansa though. Almost the second the front door was shut behind her Sansa realised something was wrong, usually she could hear Bran and Rickon playing but instead she found utter silence which meant they were in Bran's room occupied with coloring and books, this wasn't going to be good for Sansa.

“Sansa, come in here please.” Called her mother from the family room.

I'm fucked. What have I done now? With a sigh Sansa slipped off her shoes and set her bag down in the hall, no doubt later she'd get an ear full that bordered on lamenting for leaving her school bag in the hallway but at that moment in time Sansa couldn't have cared less. She felt like she was being marched to her execution as she walked into the family room to find her Father and Mother sat on one of the beige couches, Catelyn looked far more stern than Ned as usual.

“Take a seat, Lass.” Ned said gesturing to the matching couch opposite their own.

Sansa had always gotten along better with her father than her mother, Ned made her feel like his children came first and he seemed to see that Sansa wasn't as happy with her life as she made out.

How was school, Lass?” He asked.

“Okay. I have a mountain of homework though.”

Just get to what I'm being yelled at for, she appreciated her f ather trying to ease into the subject but her m other's scowl made his attempt useless, before Ned could say anything else Catelyn was speaking, she'd always been straight to the point.

Sansa, due to your resent reckless behaviour we've decided...” Ned looked at his wife as though to say no you decided, which almost made the young redhead laugh. “... that you need to learn some responsibility so we're sending you to camp this year. You can pray and do the team exercises with the other children, it will be good for you and you'll have fun like the other years.”

One: I'm not a fucking child! Two: I hate that place, the counsellors constantly look at me like a piece of meat. Three: Not everyone is as obsessed with religion as you. Oh, and fuck you! None of Sansa's internal monologue came out into the open though, it would only make her stay at camp longer or force her into some kind of extra Sunday school.

You'll be around the younger ones this year too so you can help take care of them, Arya, Bran and Rickon are going as well.” Ha, at least Arya has to suffer too.Also I know you're still talking to that Jeyne girl, stop it. She's not good for you.” Catelyn's face relaxed a little. “You'll leave next Saturday.”

No summer vacation for me again then.

“Mother-” Catelyn cut her off.

“No, you're going.”

There was no point in complaining, Ned flashed his daughter a smile of encouragement. Sansa just had to learn to be content with being miserable.




Sansa only got more and more lonely as Saturday approached, she knew her Mother only wanted what was best for her but what was important to Catelyn wasn't to Sansa. The fifteen year old didn't want to work herself to death until Joffrey married her and she was forced to give him sons, because there was no way in hell he would want a girl. Sansa wanted to have fun, maybe fall in love rather than being shackled to that blonde Lannister bastard, once or twice she'd tried to tell her Mother about what Joffrey did to her but she'd never been believed, Joffrey never left a mark on her if he could help it so everyone thought she made it up, stories of an over-active youthful mind. The day would come when Joffrey couldn't hide his true colors from the world and everyone would see she was right, the problem was those colors would probably kill her. Eventually she just gave up.

Her father might have been a better option but he wasn't around often, he travelled for work constantly and often slept in hotels leaving Catelyn to care for their children. Ned Stark was a good man, it was just a shame he wasn't there much.

It was raining when she left school on Friday, the one blissful day free of after school clubs, the rain wasn't as bad as when she'd gotten into Petyr's car but if she didn't hurry home she'd be soaked. Speaking of Petyr, his car was parked in the out-of-the-way spot he favoured just like every other day; how did I never notice it before? Surly a becautifully cared for Aston Martin would have been something people noticed? Jeyne was in detention for something to do with her math work and Joffrey hadn't been seen all day, thank fuck for that she thought. In their absence Sansa was to walk home alone, it wasn't far and she rather liked the peace, even if it was raining. As usual Sansa passed by his car and met his eyes for a brief moment, it had become a silent greeting of sorts, a glance and then she was gone but not today. A small patch of blue caught her eyes sitting on the hood of his Aston Martin, the little box and curiosity got the better of her, she quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching her and then reached out for the tiny box. It was pretty dry still so he'd only just sat it there for her, Sansa could feel his steel-blue colored orbs watching her intently as she opened the box, her necklace, he'd given it back. The redhead couldn't help but smile, she'd felt utterly naked without the delicate chain and S pendant, thank you she mouthed and slipped it on before walking off home; she felt right now it was back not even the rain could bother her. However, there was that forced trip to camp tomorrow.




Darkness had fallen hours ago and his club was just as popular as ever, The Mockingbird was a hotbed of sex, drink and drugs. His own little den of iniquity and Petyr adored it almost as much as he did his little girl. Ros was upstairs with some kid only just old enough to get in and Olyvar was running the bar since Katrina had called in sick... again. Petyr himself stood on the long black stairs that spiralled down watching over his domain with pride, people gyrated on the dance floor while VIP's sat in their booths with his whores on their laps teasing them with little kisses. He could hardly move for club goers and Petyr smiled think ing about the night's profits, three of the tablets his staff used had been broken though, he needed to do something about the constant breakages.


Why do you, hate me so much?!?
I'm confused with every little word you say
Do you feel like a fool
I hate every little word you say
Every little word you say.


Music blasted from the speakers and made it hard for Petyr to hear himself think but he heard the person beside him speak perfectly clearly and cringed.

“Hello Petyr.”

Great! The dark-haired man turned a little to the right to see Lysa Arryn stood by his side in a dress that should have been on someone half her age, she was high that much was obvious thanks to the dilated pupils looking up at him obsessively. Petyr sighed, how have you not overdosed and died yet? Lysa had always loved him, it was actually more like when a child had a toy and the younger sibling wanted it just so the other couldn't than love, but still that was what Lysa called it.

“Lysa.” He said with no emotion.

The redhead seemed to invent some though because less than a second later she was hanging off of him like he was a line of cocaine. His whole body was tense but Lysa didn't notice.

Did you miss me?” She didn't wait for an answer. “I know you did, you always do.” Petyr forced down the urge to throw up when her tongue came out to lick at his jaw, there isn't enough bleach in all the world. “What do you say we go and play? I know you want me.”

Dead? Yes. For sex? No. Just as luck would have it Perryn was on his way down the stairs buttoning up his black shirt while Lysa was all but climbing onto him and he grabbed the man by the arm pulling him close enough to whisper in his ear.

Perryn, take Lysa upstairs hop her up and fuck her for me. She'll use my name but ignore that. Once the lights are out she won't know the difference. I'll pay you extra.”

Perryn nodded. The man had dark hair just like Petyr's but there was no grey in it, they were a similar height and body build so Lysa would never notice. He turned back to aged redhead.

“Perryn is going to take you to one of the rooms and treat you to your favourite white powder. I'll be up in a minute.”

Lysa purred like a cat against his neck.

“Don't keep me waiting too long, Petyr.”

“You know I can't resist you, Lysa.”

Finally, finally, she released him and let Perryn lead her up the dark staircase out of sight, poor bastard Petyr thought but better him than me. Baelish had done that to Lysa a number of times and she'd never noticed. He had work to attend to as well but Petyr wasn't going to sit in his office and risk having to deal with the next problem Lysa Arryn caused, instead he told Oly to take charge of the floor and went upstairs to his Penthouse.

It was quiet as soon as he entered his elevator and the silence was strangely loud at the same time. Littlefinger took a deep breath of air, it was nice to breathe in something that wasn't a combination of sweat, vodka and Lysa's way too strong perfume. The elevator came to a halt and Petyr watched the silver doors slide open before stepping out and stripping off his suit jacket leaving it on the dining table. His laptop was still on the glass table just where he'd left it and after pouring himself a generous amount of single malt into a cut crystal tumbler the man with greying temples sat down and started going over the clubs accounts.

Moonlight steamed in through the wall to wall window giving the room an almost supernatural glow through the splattering of rain, Petyr didn't notice though he only looked up to reach for the whiskey bottle so he could refill his glass. All attention was drawn to the elevator door when he heard it start to move, that pulled him up out of his seat, no one should have been able to move that elevator but him. A code was needed to call it to the parking lot or the club floor and a keycard was required for the doors to open in his penthouse, a keycard that was still in his suit pocket. Petyr wasn't dumb, he knew the kind of people he worked for, the highly illegal things he moved for them. Which was why not three seconds later he'd retrieved the gun he kept hidden on the underside of his grand piano – a Colt Gold Cup – and stood face on to the door waiting.

Eventually the elevator came to a halt and the door slid open.

Chapter Text

Eventually the elevator came to a halt and the door slid open.



He was both confused and surprised to see his little girl, especially at two o'clock in the morning. She stood there in utter silence for a moment just looking at him with those big blue eyes of hers, this was more awkward than she'd imagined.

“I didn't have your phone number or I would have called. I remembered your code, my name.” She told him softly, eyes downcast.

Clever girl, he thought. Sansa was soaking wet, he hadn't even realised it was still raining until then, and if she was that wet it meant that she'd walked all the way to his penthouse.

“Did... did you mean it... when you said you wanted me to stay with you?”

Petyr froze for a moment looking at the girl half in his elevator and set the gun down on his dining table, Sansa hadn't noticed it hanging from his side until then but she didn't flinch; he wouldn't hurt her. Had Baelish gone insane or had his little girl come back to him? Maybe his plan hadn't failed after all.

“Yes.” He breathed out the answer with a half-smile. “Yes, little girl, I want you to stay.”

“Then is there somewhere I can put my stuff?”

She gestured to the large army green duffel bag that held her measly possessions on the floor beside her, Petyr's ego beamed and a smug smile descended onto his lips. She's mine! He didn't know what had made her leave her home in the middle of the night in the pouring rain, was it because Cat still treated her like a child? Maybe it was as simple as Petyr was her only option for somewhere to go. Baelish didn't speak he just walked straight over to his little girl and cupped her face, pulling her towards him and smashing their lips together, she tasted sweet like sugar and strawberries and Petyr thought he could become addicted rather quickly. Sansa gasped in sudden shock before relaxing and letting her eyes fall shut giving the older man the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue past her lips and map her mouth, every second was pure ecstasy, Sansa was finally his and she'd come willingly.

Meanwhile Sansa got lost in the kiss, she'd never experienced anything like the touch of Petyr's soft lips, sure Joffrey had kissed her before but it was nothing like what she felt from the dark-haired man with grey at the temples. He tasted like mint and he had her moaning in seconds. His palms were warm on her skin and calloused while his facial hair tickled her face a little but Sansa didn't pull away, the kiss was so new and yet so utterly magical. Only when their lungs screamed out for air did he release his girl, his eyes never left her own though; stormy green locked with azure.

“You're so perfect, my little girl.”

His voice was deep and dominant as a large hand ran through her long red hair, she could feel his breath on her rain chilled skin. Petyr pressed a lighter kiss to her pink lips.

“Why do you call me that?” She asked with a hint of annoyance. “I'm not a kid and you kissed me so you don't want me to be your daughter- oh.” She'd finally realised, Petyr could practically hear the penny drop. “You... you want me to call you... Daddy, don't you?”

Petyr nodded with a grin.

“Yes, that would make me very happy, Sweetling.”

The older man had said he loved her and maybe Sansa was a bit too trusting but she believed him and after that kiss she doubted he was lying to her. That and he was the only person who seemed to know what made her happy. Sansa liked the idea of being cared for and protected without being treated like a troublesome infant, so she nodded. Petyr wouldn't be a replacement father he'd be someone wise, nurturing, a guiding force that made her happy rather than a parental dictator.

“Okay... Daddy.”

“You're Daddy's little girl now. Don't forget that.”

A growl escaped his lips that pulled up into an evil grin, before she could even think about saying anything else his lips were on her own again, pulling her close. One hand settled in her damp fire-red hair while the other slid down to cup her backside, it was both dominating and protective, something she found herself melting into. Her kisses were basic and inexperienced but Petyr didn't seem to care. Am I really going to do this? Am I really going to call Petyr, Daddy? Sansa asked herself with the last bit of brainpower she had, stay with the guy who has sent me presents twice a year since I was ten and wants me to call him Daddy? Yeah, I am. There was just something about him that she couldn't resist, not that Sansa was going to try.

“Come.” He said when he finally released her mouth again. “I'll show you to your room.”

He seemed excited and he was, she was his to protect, to care for, to love and best of all to show pleasure. His large hand took her smaller one once he'd pulled her duffel bag over his shoulder – uncaring to the fact it was soaked and left his flank wet – and led her up the stairs, they reached the familiar bathroom and went straight past it to the very end of the plum colored hallway.

“Close your eyes.” Sansa smiled and obeyed.

She felt his hand grip her own and pull her slowly into the room before coming to an abrupt stop. Her ears picked up the sound of him setting her duffel bag down on what was probably a bed and then his leather shoes across the floor back to her side.


Blue orbs opened and Sansa gasped.

“This is my room?!”

“It is. Do you like it?” He already knew she did, he just wanted to hear her say it.

The walls were turquoise with the wall to the right of her bed a solid glass window just like in the living room and Petyr's room; he'd always enjoyed holding a glass of bourbon and just looking out over King's Landing from high above. The floors were cherry stained hardwood and before her stood the largest and most cosy looking canopy bed she'd ever seen made up with black silk sheets and a teal comforter. To her left was a door that she assumed lead to a closet and a few feet away a large television on a black stand stood in perfect view of her bed above which was a shelf pouring over with stuffed toys in every shape imaginable. On the other side of the closet door leaned a large bookshelf that was almost completely full. Over by the floor to ceiling window sat a Queen Anne Dollhouse in a lilac-blue trimmed with white, it was beautiful. There were a few shelves ready to be filled with knick-knacks and a fluffy white carpet that looked perfect to cuddle up on. So no, Sansa didn't like it, she adored it.

“I love it! Thank you... Daddy.” Was it wrong that the word felt so right on her lips?

“I've been working on this for a long time.” Petyr told her while walking to sit on the bed. “Originally it was pink but as you got older you seemed to hate the color and so I though blue to match your eyes. I'd hoped you would like it.”

Sansa looked around the room again in awe until her eyes fell on an older brown bear with a little green bow tie that had pride of place on her bed.

“Winston.” The redhead turned to her new Daddy. “I thought I lost him when I was eleven.”

The bear that she'd lovingly named Winston was yet another gift from Petyr, her first Christmas present from him. The bear had dazzling eyes and a big smile, Sansa had cried for days when she'd lost Winston.

“You did. You were playing with your brothers and sister when your father got a call, packed you all up and drove away. I think it was probably about your Uncle Benjin being sick.” Yes, Sansa remembered now, they'd gone straight to the hospital. “I knew you loved the bear so I went and picked it up, doubted they'd drive back and look for it.”

“They didn't.” Sansa told him flatly.

“Would have been suspicious if it suddenly showed up at your front door so I kept it. The dollhouse is a match to the one Arya broke, but in blue rather than pink.”

Sansa felt her heart soar. There was a voice in the back of her head telling her to run, that he was dangerous but there was also a part of her that adored the attention Petyr gave her as well as the amount of time he'd spent thinking about what she would prefer.

“You did all this for me? What if I'd never seen it?”

Sansa sat on the bed beside him and Petyr ran his fingers through her still damp red locks as he answered. Normally he'd never tell someone his motive but Sansa was different, she was his little girl now, all his.

“At first it was more for me than you.” Daddy's tone was gentle. “A perfect ideal. Now you're here though and I should leave you to settle in, baby girl. I'll be downstairs when you're done, no rush.”

She felt warm lips press against her temple and then the bed raise as he stood. Sansa just sat there for a moment taking in her beautiful surroundings and letting the slowly fading scent of his cologne caress her; his smell was so comforting.

“If you don't like something I can change it.” He wanted Sansa to know she only had to ask.

“What? No! I love it just the way it is Petyr-Daddy.” She corrected herself.

Petyr nodded before flashing her a smile and then leaving the room. Sansa had actually done it, she'd run away in the early hours of the morning to live with her stalker, then it occurred to her was he the protective eyes I've always felt ? Petyr didn't seem crazy like the stalkers on television and somehow made her feel safe. Yes, he wanted her to call him Daddy but lots of guys liked it and didn't automatically mean he was crazy. In fact Margaery had been talking about it one day and Jeyne had overheard it, that was the only reason Sansa knew what Daddy Kink was. Was Sansa really doing this? Yes, apparently she was. Sansa actually liked the idea of calling him Daddy, it was just wrong enough to be right.

After a time Sansa pushed herself up from the luxuriously soft bed and pulled open the zipper of her green duffel bag, her books were on top so she set them neatly on the bookshelf giving her first edition pride of place, next came her jewellery box that found a new home on the vanity table by the widow and the dollhouse along with her hairbrush and toiletries bag. She'd only brought two sets of shoes other than the pair she had on and when she pulled the closet door open to put them away she froze. Inside she found dresses, half the closet was filled with lolita dresses, each one looking more expensive than the last. There was a wide range of color choice and all of them were really rather short, that didn't overly surprise Sansa. She pulled out one with thin straps and a flounce skirt made from a soft white fabric with with a little blue ribbon decorating the sweetheart neckline, it was so familiar, almost like one she'd had when she was little. The dress she held wasn't the same but it was almost a perfect match.

“I didn't wear that dress after... after...”

Suddenly a memory clicked it had faded into unimportance so long ago. Sansa's cerulean eyes grew wide before dropping the dress and charging down the stairs to find Petyr. He sat on the leather couch with his cellphone to his ear and Sansa found herself waiting until he'd finished talking to whoever it was.

“... I don't need to explain myself to you, Ros. You and Olyvar can handle things for the rest of tonight on your own.” He paused for a second seeing his little girl on the stairs. “You're a big girl so just do as you're told. I'm busy.” With that Petyr hung up and threw his cellphone down onto the couch cushion.

Sansa watched as Baelish stood and slowly walked towards her, he stopped less than an inch from her face letting his hands rest on her sharp hips.

“Whose Ros?” Asked the redhead almost forgetting why she'd come down.

Sansa told herself she asked out of curiosity but in reality it was because he'd said big girl, Sansa wouldn't admit it but she was a little jealous for a second. Petyr saw all this flash across her face and couldn't help but smile.

“She works for me in the club.” He said pulling his girl a little closer. “I'm meant to be down there tonight but I want to spend time with my little Sweetling.” Petyr kissed her forehead.

Suddenly the reason she'd gone looking for him snapped back to her.

“There's a dress in my closet.” She stated looking into his stormy eyes. “I had one like it when I was a child and now I remember why you're so familiar.” Petyr just waited, he'd been wondering when or even if she'd remember him. “I was ten and I snuck out the house, I thought I was old enough to go and get candy by myself. Half way a man tried to grab me and throw me in his car but then there was another man, he pulled the guy off me and punched the crap out of him. That man saved me, you saved me, and then you took me to get candy anyway before taking me home. You said don't tell Mommy or Daddy about me or the other man and I agreed. I never told anyone about that not even Jeyne, I forgot about it. That store clerk thought I was your daughter.”

“And I didn't correct him.” Petyr's voice was smooth and calm. “Yes, that was me. I didn't know if you'd remember, you were only ten.” his grip on her tightened around her waist. “I wasn't going to let anyone hurt you, had to keep you safe. And I wouldn't have stood a chance against that man if he'd seen me coming.”

Before Petyr had even finished talking Sansa's arms were around his neck holding him close in a hug, this is why I feel safe around him. He saved me. Petyr had protected her all those years ago and now he was doing it again, saving her. Something burst forth in her heart that she'd never felt before, Sansa had no name for it but she liked it, never wanted to let it go.

“You've always been watching out for me, haven't you.” It was a rhetorical question but Petyr answered anyway.

“Yes, Sweetling.”

His lips were on her then, chest to chest and Sansa nearly melted. He was bad and conniving but not evil like Joffrey, he treated her as a little girl but nothing like her parents did. Petyr Baelish was everything she was told she shouldn't want but want him she did.

Before Sansa knew it he'd got her pressed up against the wall at the top of the stair with her legs wrapped around his waist to keep her firmly in place and his tongue deep in her mouth. The redhead had never felt anything like what Petyr made her feel, he wanted her but there was one thing that she had to ask before it went any further. He seemed perturbed when she pulled her lips from his.

“I have to ask. The gifts started showing up on my tenth birthday, did you want me like this when I was little?” She gestured to her legs around his waist.

“No.” He responded honestly. “Your birthday last year, you snuck out in a short floral dress and make-up that made you look older. That was when I started thinking about sex, before I just wanted to hold and protect you. Wanted you near me.” It was true. “Just because I want you to be my little girl doesn't mean I wanted you when you were a little girl.”


With that answered Sansa pulled him back to her, she was nervous but tried not to show it. Kissing seemed to come naturally to her though her Daddy seemed more interested in exploring her mouth than her kissing back with skill, she'd learn as time went on. His large hands squeezed her backside every now and again, she knew what he wanted, and that was what made Sansa nervous, she didn't want to be bad at sex and find he lost interest in her. When the fifteen year old spoke she tried to sound cute.

“Would you be gentle with me, Daddy? I've never done this before.”

Petyr paused at that and pulled back to take in the beauty of his girl, Sansa was willing that was for certain but she wasn't ready, not yet anyway, and she'd only just gotten there. He couldn't risk rushing things with her, everything needed to slow down.

“Daddy will be gentle with you, baby girl. I promise, but we're not going to do this now. Soon.”

He'd waited so long for his baby girl and he could wait a little longer, never let it be said that Petyr 'Littlefinger' Baelish didn't have the patience of a saint. Yes, he could wait. The dark-haired man set his girl down softly and looked into those big blue eyes of hers while pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch was so soft.

“I'll make us dinner, you go finish unpacking.”

“Isn't it breakfast in a few hours?” She asked.

“Well, I'm starving and you need some sleep, so I think three in the morning dinner it is.” Petyr smiled and Sansa found it infectious. “And don't question your Daddy.”

“Yes, Daddy. Sorry.”

This was going to be fun, mainly because her parents would drop down dead from shock if they found out. Petyr pressed a kiss to her soft pink lips again before Sansa went off back to her room, she's just as depraved as I am, he thought happily to himself with a smirk.

Chapter Text

Sansa looked around her new turquoise bedroom with a smile, now her things were unpacked it really was her own, the room was twice the size of her bedroom at home; no this is home now she corrected herself. The bedroom was her it matched her personality, sweet and innocent but with something lurking underneath that was dangerous and cunning. Looking down at the old army green duffel bag Sansa noticed just how sparsely packed it had been, she'd not really found much Sansa deemed important enough to pack up and bring with her; her better clothing, some make-up she'd had hidden from her Mother, the gifts Petyr had given her over the years, a little jewellery and her shoes. Carefully she unpacked everything and set in its rightful place, her old room had made the gifts stand out like they were wrong but here in the winsome bedroom they belonged like missing pieces of a jigsaw. Her first edition of Jane Eyre sat in pride of place in the space he'd left in her bookshelf along with her other two favourite novels, one fantasy the other a Psychological horror; The Name Of The Wind by Patrick Rothfuss and Red Dragon by Thomas Harris. She fingered the 'S' pendant around her neck as she often did while in thought, something was missing and it took Sansa a second to put her finger on it, she'd cleaned off the black and azure lamp from the right side of her bed setting it instead on her right to make room for her beloved Fabergé Carousel yet never set it up, blue eyes quickly found it wasn't in her bag and nowhere in sight. Where is it?! Her mind demanded. In her mad dash to escape the house before her parents noticed she'd left the most important thing she possessed, Sansa could have kicked herself. There was no way Sansa could go back for it, not now anyway, it was just a thing, a thing she adored but still just a thing. Sansa could live without it, at least she hoped she could.




Catelyn walked swiftly to her eldest daughter's bedroom door at seven o'clock sharp and knocked thrice, clear and loud.

“Sansa, it's time for breakfast.” She called through the large wooden door. “You better have packed for camp.” Nothing, not a single sound, not even breathing. “Sansa?” Still nothing. “Sansa?”

Easily Catelyn turned the door knob and went into her daughter's pink room, before her was the most horrifying sight she'd ever seen. Draws lay open just like her closet which was half empty, books were gone and Sansa's bed clearly hadn't been slept in. The window was wide open as well letting in the cold morning air.

“Ned!” Catelyn yelled down the stairs. “Ned! Sansa's gone!”


The aged redhead couldn't understand why Sansa would leave, unless it was one of those damn school friends of hers; they're a bad influence. Has it been a friend? Or had she met some boy who'd lead her astray?




It was nice to have a meal that didn't start with saying Grace. Sansa sat opposite Petyr at the large glass dining table while they ate, he was a good cook and Sansa happily munched her prawn linguine with a pleasant twist of chilli.

She could feel his green-grey eyes on her, Joffrey often watched her but their gaze was very different. Joffrey's tried to beat and devour her but Petyr's beautiful orbs caressed her body as though she were a goddess. It made her smile.

“Regretfully I wasn't aware you'd return to me so I lack your favourite lemon cakes for dessert.” He told her in that deep and dominant voice of his.

“That's okay.” She smiled and set her cutlery down. “I'm full anyway. Thank you.”

“'Thank you' what?”

“Thank you, Daddy.” She corrected happily.

Every time he heard her utter his new title it sent a surge of primal pride through his lean body, so much so he wanted to growl. Petyr stood and cleared the plates away to the dishwasher.

“Sweetling, did you tell anyone you were coming here?” Petyr knew she wasn't stupid but he just wanted to be certain.

“No, I wouldn't risk that. I don't want to be found.”

“Good.” Said Petyr as he returned to Sansa's side, stormy green eyes looking down at her with a small grin. “Because I don't want you to be taken away. I spent so long wanting you with me and now I have you.”

They both pushed away any thoughts of her leaving or being taken, neither wanted that, and Petyr changed the subject.

“Do you have everything you need?” He asked as a hand combed through her long red hair.

“Yes, thank you, Daddy.” Sansa smiled. “I grabbed my clothes and all my important things, except-” She cut herself off and stared down to her lap.

“What, Sweetling? Tell Daddy and I'll fix it.”

Sansa sighed and met his dark and cunning eyes.

“I forgot my Fabergé Carousel, I like to watch it before I go to sleep. I don't know how I forgot it.”

“But you want it.” He remembered the day he purchased it for her, he'd spent a long time finding the perfect one.

“Do you need help cleaning up, Daddy?” Sansa asked with a smile as she stood up.

“No, Sweetling. You should go and take a shower, your hair is still damp from the rain.” Rain, which had finally ceased. “Let Daddy deal with with this.”

Petyr took her into his arms and pressed a delicate kiss to the top of her head, his warmth drifted through his tailored black clothing, past her own and warmed her body; it soothed her very soul.

“Okay, Daddy.”

Sansa was his now, all his, and Petyr would never let his fire haired beauty go. Cat and Ned would search for Sansa of that there was no doubt, but who would ever suspect she'd gone to him? Baelish was the very last person Cat would ever suspect to have her daughter.




The next morning when Sansa awoke it was to the gentle movement of her beloved Fabergé Carousel and her Daddy perched on the end of her bed; how long he'd been watching her sleep she didn't know.

“Morning, Sweetling.” He almost purred as Sansa sat bolt upright, eyes glowing in amazement and disbelief that her carousel was on her night stand.

“You went to the house to get my carousel?” Her eyes never left the circling horses.

“Indeed I did, it's important to you. I gave this to you so long ago, now I give it to you again.”

In seconds Sansa had kicked off her soft black sheets and flung herself into Petyr's awaiting arms, he clung to her small body as though she'd suddenly vanish and breathed in her natural scent. Heavenly.

“Thank you, Daddy! Thank you.” It was strange how normal that word had become so quickly, so natural.

“You're very welcome, my little girl.”

With that Littlefinger pressed his lips to the teenager's own, tongue licking along her bottom lip until she parted them for him. Slowly, so as not to spook her, Petyr moved Sansa from his lap and down onto her back letting him dominate the space above her, one hand propped him up with the other was happy in her hair, Sansa's arms still hung around his neck. It was clear that Sansa was unpractised when it came to kissing but Petyr was more than willing to teach his Sweetling, teach her to kiss, to bite, to suck, in all the right ways.

In the back of her mind there was a voice – that sounded annoyingly like her mother – telling Sansa that she was only fifteen and this was all highly illegal and wrong, that he'd stalked her for years, but Sansa didn't care, she pushed the voice away, Petyr's fingers on her skin just felt too good

Petyr couldn't let himself get lost in the moment, he wouldn't take her, not yet, Sansa had to be a hundred percent comfortable with him before they progressed that far. However, that didn't change his desperate need to touch her, to taste her. His long fingers left her hair and moved to pull her lilac sleep shorts off and almost instantly Sansa tried to press her legs together but all she succeed in doing was wrapping her legs around Petyr's hips. He let out a deep growl from his chest.

“No, no, Sweetling. Let Daddy see you.” He purred when she let him look at parts of her than no other ever had.

He looked at the delicate red curls of her glistening virginal sex, so wet and I've only kissed her, his mind muttered dominantly before his let his fingers stroke along her folds. She moaned, loud and needy, if Petyr never heard another sound ever again he'd die a happy man. She was beautiful beneath him, arms falling from his neck to grip the bed sheets, lips parted to let little groans and pants escape as his clever fingers explored her wetness. Sansa had touched herself before but it had never been like this, she'd never felt so desperate for it. He brought her to the brink of pleasure and then pulled his hand away, her eyes flashed with need. Petyr wouldn't deprive his darling little girl though, with a grin he slid down her supple body to pepper sweet kisses to her inner thighs.

“Daddy.” She breathed, the small word spurring him on, making him want to hear her scream.

“Shush, Sweetling. Daddy's going to make you feel good.”

His tongue licked at her folds hungrily tasting the sweet flavour of his girl. Sansa gasped out a strangled moan, she'd never felt anything like Petyr's tongue before and couldn't even put the feeling into words. His tongue lapped at her folds, he was amazed at how wet she was for him, her hands gave up clinging to the sheets and raked into his salt and pepper hair instead, gripping tightly as his tongue circled her clit.

He kissed that sensitive bundle of nerves over and over making her scream louder and louder for him, then he slipped a finger inside her. Her grip on his hair became vice like but it only spurred him on as she moaned. A finger n finger slipped in her wet heat and then another, he crocked them as he kissed her clit. It didn't take long for Sansa to start pushing back on his fingers, she was close and he knew that, so he slipped in a third finger. After a few moments of careful thrusting she screamed out wrapping her legs around his head. Petyr made sure to keep the thrusts going throughout her orgasm until she was left panting, her eyes fluttered closed. Sansa felt nothing but pure pleasure.

Oh Daddy!” She all but screamed and Gods did that feed Petyr's ego.

He smirked when his lips met hers again, knowing she could taste herself on him.

“Are you a virgin?” Of course he knew the answer but there was something satisfying about hearing it from her lips.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Have you made yourself cum?” He caressed her neck with open-mouthed kisses and bites.

“... Yes.” She admitted as her breathing returned to normal, blue eyes glistening up at him.

“And what do you think about?” His fingers went back to combing through her beautiful locks.

“You, Daddy.” That got his attention. “At first I thought of Joffrey because everyone said we were in love... but I found myself thinking about who had sent the gifts.”

“Mmm, and how did you picture me?” Petyr nibbled at her clavicle.

“Like you are, Daddy.” It was true, she'd imagined dark hair and a lean body, blue-grey eyes as well. “A little younger but I like you better than my fantasy.”

Oh, she's going to be a naughty little one when I'm done. She'd already come to the dark side willingly. Sansa wasn't the good girl Cat liked to believe, in reality she was cunning, depraved deviant more suited to Petyr's world than the one she'd been born into.

“Breakfast?” He asked with a kiss.

“Please.” Sansa smiled. “Can I help?”

Petyr had told her he wanted to take care of her but Sansa still wanted to earn her keep.

“Only if you do as Daddy says.”

Sansa made a cross over her heart in silent promise and grinned up at him wantonly, her Daddy made her feel so alive and she'd only been there one night.

“Good girl. Take the rest of your clothes off so Daddy can dress you and then we'll make breakfast together. Sound good, Sweetling?”

Sansa nodded and Petyr shuffled away to watch her disrobe as he licked his fingers clean of her intoxicating juices. The redhead could feel the slippery wetness between her legs, a reminder of the pleasure Daddy had just given her. Steel blue eyes caressed her body, committing every inch of her to memory, the slope of her breasts, the small bruises starting to emerge on her neck; Sansa was marked as his.

As soon as his fingers were clean Petyr stood and threw open Sansa's closet, he perused for a brief moment in search of something that would match her beauty. There were a plethora of options but Petyr decided on something simple and elegant for her first full day with him, the dress he took out was a halter neck that came down to just above her knee and made of a soft white cotton with a delicate ruffle across the sweetheart neckline. He set it neatly down on her bed before going to the dresser and taking out white stockings and yellow lace panties; Gods how he'd longed to see her in those. The items were set on the bed just as neatly as the dress and then Petyr took the naked girl into his arms. She was so perfect in every way, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that quickly had Sansa melting into his warmth.

“You're beautiful.” He told her in truth, Petyr lied for a living but he could only tell his little girl the truth.


She let him dress her, slipping the soft dress over her head and tying the ribbon into a neat bow at the back of her neck, her red hair falling around her face looking even bolder thanks to the pure snow of the dress. Cerulean eyes watched him silently when he dropped to his knees and rolled the expensive stockings up her thighs, kissing them in turn before returning to his full hight.

What about my panties, Daddy?” She questioned with a sultry grin; or as sultry as the inexperienced Sansa could manage.

I prefer you without them.” His voice was dark and dominant, his blue-grey eyes shone with power. Of to breakfast then, come along, Sweetling.”

Chapter Text

It was high noon and Petyr sat quietly in his club office going through the profits from the night before. A cup of steaming coffee sat beside his laptop, dark as night and sweet as sin and as hard as he tried to focus, Petyr's mind kept slipping back to the goddess only a few floors above his head. She couldn't leave his apartment, a keycard was needed to call the elevator and Petyr had the only one. Knowing Sansa as well as he did, she'd probably be in her room reading.

Ros pushed the door open and stepped into Petyr's office, clearly he'd been so lost in his thoughts of Sansa that he'd not even heard Ros knock.

Boss, a pipe just burst the second floor east women's bathroom. There's water everywhere and it's already dripped through the ceiling into Armeca's room.”

“For fucks sake.” He sighed. “Valantin is expected tonight.” Petyr leaned back on his high-backed chair and looked at Ros. “Alright, she can use your room while she's with Valantin and then I'll move her to a spare once it's made up.”


“Ros, call everyone together as well. I want to speak to you all in five minutes, bar staff too.”

“Yes, Boss.” She paused for a moment, he wasn't going to like what she said next. “Em, also, Katrina has called in sick again.”

“Is she pretending to have the plague? That's almost three weeks she's been fucking about, I've been more than generous. Tell her she's fired.”

“You've known she wasn't sick from the beginning.” It wasn't a question.

“Of course, my dear. I know everything. Now gather everyone up.”

Ros turned and left to carry out Littlefinger's orders to the letter but his slightly accented voice brought her to a halt halfway over the threshold.

I'm sure you can call the plumber by yourself.”

R os said nothing, she simply closed the door quietly. All Baelish wanted to do was vanish off upstairs to his girl and play with her, fill her. Petyr knew she was only fifteen but Gods did he want to fuck her, he didn't care about the law, he'd have her soon enough. He gave up on his work a few moments later and logged on to his favourite Daddy's little girl store in search of new things to dress his angel in. Petyr had told Ros to have everyone to meet in five minutes but they worked for him and could wait as long as he damn well pleased, money was no object to Baelish and he – rather quickly – built up a healthy list of gifts for her. His Sweetling would have anything she wanted and more.

After fifteen minutes he grabbed the rather large black box from his desk and casually wandered down the dark spiral staircase that covered all three floors of his club, from top to bottom; offices, the rooms for his whores. and the main bar area and dance floor. His staff had been gathered by Ros and stood at the bar while T eiichi Petyr's only capable barman – wiped the sleek black bar top down with a cloth. As soon as Oly set eyes of his charcoal suit clad boss on the stairs he pulled a bottle of bourbon down off the top shelf, pouring it into a cut crystal glass and rounding the bar to hand it over. Petyr said a quick thank you before taking a sip of the rich amber liquid.

Alright, listen up because I'm not in the habit of repeating myself. Olyvar, hand these out.” Petyr held out the black box for the blonde to take. “You're all getting smart watches because I'm sick of having to replace the fucking tablets thanks to shit being spilt on them. They stay in your lockers unless working, they're to do your job not to go jogging. You break it you bought it. They're running the same program as the tables. Take a member number and click the item number for whatever the fuck they want then get it or them, same thing as usual. No swapping, no breaking, no taking home. Now back to work with you.” Petyr clapped his hands together in a well get on with it sort of way and watched as everyone went back to work.

Olyvar leaned against the sleek black bar and watched his boss for a moment or two as he continued to sip his bourbon until finally the blonde spoke.

So,” Oly began with a grin. “Do you get games on this?”

“Did you listen to anything I just said?”

“Yeah, of course, but I love your annoyed and disgruntled face.” Giggled Oly. “It's cute.”

“Do stop referring to me as 'cute'.” Grumbled Petyr.

But you are-” Baelish cut him off with a glare. “Fine, but you do have a call me master thing going on.”

The two men chuckled. Petyr had no need nor want for friends but Olyvar did amuse him most of the time, he was rather conniving as well. Petyr downed the last of his bourbon before setting the glass back down on the bar.

“Have someone make up a room for Armeca to whore in until hers and the east second floor bathroom has been repaired.”

On it.”




By about eight o'clock that evening Sansa had started to grow lonely and found herself watching television as she lay in a rather unladylike position, her parents didn't let her and her siblings watch much television and Sansa had soon found a horror movie. Though it was a little scary it was nothing compared to what her Mother had made her expect. The movie, Rec, had subtitles and Sansa actually rather liked it. Almost halfway through Petyr's elevator pinged and the man himself stepped into the penthouse, he went straight to the couch and looked down to see his beautiful angel.

“Little girls shouldn't watch scary movies.” Sansa jumped. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

“It's alright, Daddy.”

“No more scary movies unless Daddy's here, Sweetling. Daddy needs to be here if his little girl gets upset.” He told her softly.

“Yes, Daddy.” She grinned with her best Daddy's girl smile.

“Can I watch the rest with you before I go back to work?”

Sansa nodded and Petyr dropped down onto the couch before pulling his little girl into his lap, she rested her head on his shoulder and clung to her Daddy's dark green shirt.

“Do you have to go again?” She asked sadly.

“Yes, Sweetling, I do. I'll come and see you as soon as The Mockingbird closes, you'll be asleep though.” Petyr ran his fingers through her soft hair as the movie continued to play.

“I want to wait for you.” She told him determinedly.

“No. Little girls need their beauty sleep. You'll go to bed once the movie finishes.”

“But it's early.” She protested.

“You'll go to bed at ten and I'll come and see you when the club closes, alright?”

Sansa wriggled in his lap teasingly, if she knew what she was doing or not Petyr wasn't quite sure, either way he enjoyed it and pressed a kiss to her porcelain temple.

“Can't I come with you?”

“Little girls aren't allowed in night clubs or brothels. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

It was then that Sansa chose to straddle him, her cotton dress rising up her thighs and revealing her white lace stocking tops, instantly Petyr's hands were running up her thighs. Sansa was intoxicating and addictive, her body supple and delicate. Petyr's w arm lips encompassed Sansa's own, keeping her in a blissful state of pleasure. The fingers of his right hand ghosted up her flank and into long fiery hair as their eyes fell shut and their tongues met letting passion begin to sizzle away in their blood. He pulled his baby girl closer and closer, until the only thing in between them is the thin layers of fabric. Sansa's breath is ragged and heavy, smelling faintly of the strawberries she'd had at breakfast. She arched into his touch, revelling in the warmth and care of her Daddy. She grumbled when Petyr pulled away.

“As much as I'd love to stay here and ravish you, Sweetling – Gods I'd love to – but I have to go back to work.” He lamented.

Reluctantly Petyr left his darling girl and went back down to his club, practically hiding in a corner when Lysa Arryn appeared, sometimes he wondered if Lysa even remembered having ever been sober; probably not.

At three in the morning The Mockingbird finally closed and his staff cleaned up before heading home to their beds. Normally Baelish would remain in his office long after closing to make sure everything was in order and ready for the next day but now he had Sansa it was time for a new normal.

As the elevator rose towards his penthouse Petyr lit a cigarette and breathed deeply enjoying the taste, he slipped his trusty zippo back into his inner pocket just as the doors rolled open revealing darkness save for the moonlight that drifted in through the glass wall. Baelish found his girl in bed just as he'd told her to be, tucked up in her black silk sheets as she lay on her side cuddling Winston the bear with her hair scattered all over her pillow. She's beautiful, Petyr's mind muttered. He just stood by her bed for a time watching Sansa sleep peaceful, or at least she did until Petyr turned to leave.

“Daddy?” She called out quietly causing Petyr to turn back.

“I didn't mean to wake you, Sweetling.” He told her softly as he crouched by her side, his blue-grey eyes glinting in the darkness. “Go back to sleep.” He pressed a kiss to her supple lips.

“Him too.” The redhead demanded sleepily. Petyr flashed her a half-smile before giving the bear a quick kiss.

“Good night, baby girl.”

“Stay with me?” Sansa rolled onto her back and grinned up at him, blue shining through long lashes.

“Daddy needs to take a shower, then I'll come hold you.” He promised and she nodded before rolling back over and closing her eyes, her stuffie cuddled close to her chest.

She didn't wake when he climbed into bed with her a short time later, but her body did turn over to happily cuddle into his naked chest, bear forgotten on the other side of her. Sansa subconsciously breath him in, there was still a faint scent of cigarettes that always clung to him as well as what could only be described as Petyr Baelish. He didn't just smell of smoke or shower gel, he smelt of safety.

Petyr couldn't help but watch his darling girl, especially after that little grin appeared on her porcelain face. He knew that smile was because of him, she'd never smiled like that in all the years he'd been watching her. As long as Sansa was happy and undeniably his, Petyr was happy.

Chapter Text

When Sansa awoke it was to an empty bed and her stuffie, Winston, tucked comfortably in her arms. If the sheets hadn't been ruffled she'd have believed he'd never come to bed, she sat up and rubbed at her cerulean eyes with little fists before stretching. Sansa clambered out of bed and left Winston tucked up as though he was still lost in slumber.

Sansa padded down the stairs to see if her Daddy want to dress her like yesterday, Petyr stood to the right of his couch staring out over the metropolis of King's Landing; his cellphone to his ear. The redhead said nothing and supposed that her Daddy wouldn't want her listening in but before she could turn and wander back to her room something caught her attention.

“...I don't give a fuck what you think, I pay you to do as you're told and move product not to think.” Petyr snarled. “Now do get back to work before something horrible happens to you.” With that Petyr hung up and shoved the phone back to his pants and turned to see his beloved baby girl on the stairs. “Hello Sweetling, how's Daddy's girl today?”

“Are you going to hurt whoever was on the phone?”

No cute voice, no Daddy at the end, and Petyr picked up on that instantly. He felt a tiny twinge of annoyance that dissipated quickly, she known he wasn't a good man when she'd returned to him, surely she'd seen something like this coming? Petyr sauntered over to his girl and pulled her into his arms, lips pressing against the skin of her snow white neck. She looked stunning in nothing but her panties and one of his grey shirts, long smooth legs and only a few buttons holding the shirt over her breast.

“Sweetling, Daddy has a job to do and sometimes threats need to be made in order to get that job done.” He explained innocently.

“I thought you owned the club?”

Again there was no Daddy, no cuteness. Sansa knew Petyr was a dangerous man, he'd been stalking her for years after all but she'd pushed all that away in favour of being free from her parents and the way he made her feel.

“I do, among other things.” He answers cryptically.

Sansa had no doubt that Petyr could kill her in an instant if he wanted but for some reason that didn't scare her, actually it was a little exciting.

“Following me isn't the only illegal thing you've done, is it?” She wasn't surprised.

“No, baby girl, it isn't.” He cupped her cheek and tipped her head up so their blue eyes could meet. “I'll never hurt you, never.” It wasn't just a promise it was a vow. “You're my little girl, my Sweetling. You're more beautiful than she ever was.” Sansa didn't know what that meant but she allowed the older man to pull her into a kiss.

“Do you kill people, Daddy?” His title was back and Baelish couldn't help but wonder if his girl was even more naughty than he'd given her credit for.

“Only when I have to, Sweetling.” He confessed into her ear as his large hands pulled her hips against his own.

“The man that tried to kidnap me, the man you saved me from, did you-?” Petyr cut her off easily.

“Kill him? Yes. Firstly, he hurt you which I don't take kindly to. Second, he would have gone out in search of another child as soon as he got chance.”

Sansa didn't quite know how to respond to that, it had been drilled into her than killing was wrong, thou shalt not kill, but Petyr was right, men like the one who'd grabbed her would have just gone looking for another child. People like that didn't deserve to live. He'll kill for me, said her mind and it sparked something inside Sansa, something powerful and hot. Something that had her breathing growing slightly heavy.

“Let's get you dressed, shall we?”

“Okay, Daddy.” She shook her head to throw away her thoughts and bring herself back to the world around her before she smiled and let Petyr pull her into his arms bridal style.

The man with grey at his temples took Sansa back to her bedroom, her arms slipping around his neck to keep him close, he'd not dressed for the day either and Sansa reveled in the sight of him in nothing but his sleep pants. Baelish whispered sweet nothings into her ear as he carried her back and set her gently down on the canopy bed with a kiss. With a wait here baby Petyr pulled open her large closet and started to search for the perfect dress.

“What should Daddy put you in today.” He mused aloud as his blue-grey eyes scanned through the plethora of dresses and cute little outfits. “Something sweet and innocent I think, the perfect costume to hide your inner wolf.”

After a few moments Petyr re-emerged with a white blouse and short red skirt over his left arm, the blouse had cap sleeves and a turndown collar while the rose red skirt would only come down to her mid thigh and had a white lace trim and a little red bow on the front. Slowly Petyr unbuttoned they grey shirt he'd given her to sleep in revealing her chest, small bruises had formed from his attentions, Sansa Stark had officially been marked as his.

“You're beautiful.” He said almost absent-mindedly as he slipped her turquoise satin panties up her smooth legs followed by a matching bra. The skirt and blouse fit her perfectly, cuddling the fifteen year old's curves.

Sansa watched with a soft smile as her Daddy slipped her feet into her mary jane shoes; heeled and in a rich burgundy. He took such pride in dressing her, as though she were a masterpiece that only he could touch. Though innocent enough Sansa's mother would never have let her dress in such a short skirt and especially not in heels, Petyr dressed her to be beautiful and sexy while her mother insisted on prim and proper. Petyr Baelish made her feel like a woman while her mother had just made her feel trapped.

“Hmm, pretty as a picture.” He grinned when he stepped back to take in his work.

She let him sit her at her beautiful wooden vanity table with ovular mirror to brush her hair, how a club and brothel owner with his hands in several illegal pies knew how to braid her hair was a little beyond Sansa but she enjoyed the attention, especially when he bent down kiss her neck and coaxed her up from her chair to press her against his lean body, a hand snaking up her skirt.

“That's my good girl.” He purred.

“Daddy-” She cut herself off when his fingers vanished into her panties.

Maybe Sansa should have been afraid of Petyr, he'd stalked her, he ran a whorehouse out of his nightclub and by his own omission killed and threatened without hesitation. It should have scared her, should have sent her running back to her parents begging them to keep her safe. Should didn't always come to fruition though, no matter how much Sansa learnt about Petyr's cunning she couldn't get enough of the way he touched her, kissed her. This dangerous man was the only person to ever make her feel truly cared for, a teenager often misjudged things but Sansa didn't care.

“Sweetling, tell me what you want.” He muttered against her lips before thrusting his tongue into her hot mouth, her thighs parted desperately for him.

“Daddy, I need-” A gasp cut her off when his fingers slipped into her wet heat.

“Tell Daddy, Sweetling.”

“Make me cum.” She begged, which only caused him to chuckle.

Littlefinger backed the teenager up until she fell down onto the bed pulling him down along with her.

“Of course Daddy will make you come. Since you've been such a good girl.”

His calloused hands pulled her firm thighs apart and pushed her satin panties to the side so he could gaz e at her glistening sex, with a titillating smirk Petyr vanished underneath her cute little red skirt with his arms wrapping around her thighs. She clenched her jaw and leaned back into the dark pillows, Sansa eyes slipped closed and her mouth fell open. Petyr knew exactly how he affected her and gleefully took her clit into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around it like a starving man. Her breathing picked up instantly, harsh breaths in and out, he rewarded his girl with a finger slipping into her, causing Sansa to gasp and immediately let out a loud, low – and somewhat primal – moan. He slid in another finger and she whimpered, the sound heavenly. Petyr felt himself twitch in anticipation, he began a brutal pace with his fingers, sliding them in and out, causing her to moan and squirm her hips as her pleasure started to build; a fire burning powerfully. When his tongue slipped inside her Sansa gasped loudly and without shame.

“More... please... more.”

Oh what the sound of Sansa Stark begging did to him, his erection strained in his pants leaking and begging for attention but his Sweetling was more important; now she was his she'd get everything she could ever want.

Sansa's pleasure climbed, her chest rose and fell with desperation. She felt, she needed, she wanted, she was so close. Suddenly white erupted behind her eyes when she finally came like a bomb had gone off wiping out everything except her euphoria. Her nails dug into his shoulders leaving behind crescent moon shaped bruises, similar to the ones that would mark her hips.

Petyr rose to sit on his haunches to watch Sansa ride out her orgasm while licking his fingers clean of her sweet juices. Sansa felt a shiver go down her spine upon seeing his enjoyment.

“What about you, Daddy?” She questioned, cerulean eyes rested on the bulge in his pants. “Are you going-”

“No, Sweetling. The fact you're asking like that means you're not quite ready for Daddy just yet.” But Gods did he want to.

“But I don't want to be a bad girl and ignore you.” I've only been with him two days, should I be this use to calling him being Daddy and me his little girl? Sansa chose not to dwell on that.

And you want to be a good little girl for your Daddy. That's my girl.” He smirked. There was a pause before he gestured to the floor beside her bed. “On your knees, Sweetling.” Sansa didn't move, unsure as to what he wanted. “Do as you're told, Sansa.”

Petyr's voice was dominant and powerful, teeming with authority and the stunning redhead found herself obeying before she even knew she'd moved. She thudded down on her knees, looking up at him with big blue eyes, that look alone nearly pushed him over into orgasm there and then. Catelyn was nothing compared to hid sweet Sansa.

“Sweetling,” he began with a gleam in his eyes. “Do you know what a blowjob is?”

Petyr tugged off his cobalt sleep pants and perched on the edge of her bed with his legs open for her to settle in between.

Slowly she started to speak. “... Joffrey used to say he'd make me-”

“Don't talk about him.” He growled; he'd deal with that blonde bastard at a later date and certainly not while his Sansa was on her knees for him.

“Sorry, Daddy.” She muttered apologetically. “I know what it is, I don't know how though.”

His redhead actually looked ashamed of that but she was the virginal daughter of highly religious parents and only fifteen, it was to be expected.

“It's okay, Sweetling.” Petyr encouraged easily. It was strange, Petyr Baelish was meticulous and calculating, he planned everything and yet still made Sansa feel like all of this was spontaneous. “Go on, Sweetling.”

Petyr's voice was full of encouragement and Sansa found herself reaching out to take her Daddy in hand, it was hotter than she'd expected, harder too. Baelish let his little girl explore for a time as her hands made their way down his length experimentally, making sure to press and memorise every shift and curve of him.

“Not that tight, Sweetling.” Petyr quickly grabbed her hand and released her grip on him a little, he guided her smaller hand along his length showing her exactly what to do. Sansa was a quick study and determined to get this right, her Daddy had made her feel so good more than once and now it was her turn. “There you go.” He gasped and released her hand. “Just like that.”

Gently, she stroked the older man and Petyr let out an approving sound that made Sansa surge with confidence. She was doing something right, she was making her Daddy hum in pleasure. Braver, she increased her pace, making sure to swipe her thumb over the head coated in pre-cum. When she went no further Petyr grabbed the back of her neck, it wasn't hard or forced, just a soft guide that brought her face closer to his hard member.

“Open your mouth, baby girl. Be brave for Daddy.” Petyr wouldn't force his girl but he would thoroughly encourage her. Sansa obeyed, face reddened by the knowledge that this was actually happening. “Wider. Let go and then take my cock up your mouth.” He told her as though it were simple.

Experimentally Sansa licked the head and tasted the bead of pre-cum, it wasn't unpleasant. Finally Sansa took her Daddy's large and engorged length into her mouth, his hand guiding her.

“Don't... not teeth, baby.” Petyr panted as his hand tightened its grip on the back of Sansa's neck. “That's it... just like that.”

The older man's hips jolted up with a loud groan when Sansa leaned back to swirled her tongue around his head, his hardness slamming back into her mouth, a fifteen year old had no right being that good that quickly. Tears sprung in Sansa's eyes, whimpering at the sudden movement – almost gagging when Daddy hit the back of her throat. The redhead glanced up at him but Petyr had his head tipped back and his mouth hung open in a silent moan. Sansa sucks grew more confident with the help of Petyr's hand. Sansa hummed.

“Fuck! That's it, just like that, Sweetling.”

She felt so amazing wrapped around him, such a perfect and angelic little mouth being used for something so primal and sinful, it made it all the more arousing. The man with grey at his temples finally managed to open his blue-grey eyes and looked down to find Sansa watching him, seemed his little girl enjoyed watching his pleasure as much as Petyr enjoyed seeing her's. Locking their eyes Sansa took all of him into her mouth, how she'd developed so much confidence so quickly was beyond him.

“Sansa, I'm – fuck – I'm going to.”

Petyr's pleasure finally overtook him and he came, hot seed spilling into her mouth and Sansa did her best to swallow every drop. He collapsed on the bed, releasing his grip on her neck and slipping free of her mouth, he panted harshly and Sansa revelled in the knowledge that she'd done that to him. Her jaw ached but she paid no attention to it as she clambered up on the bed beside her Daddy and cuddled into his still panting chest.

“Did I do good, Daddy?” She asked into his chest and Petyr wrapped an arm around her.

“Yes, Sweetling, you did amazing. Daddy's proud of you, my brave girl.” He kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Sweetling.”

Sansa froze at those words, her parents and siblings had told her they loved her before but this was different, this was her Daddy. The words resonated in her heart making it sting in such a way that it bordered on pain and pleasure, Sansa found herself grinning ear to ear as the words repeated in her mind.

“I love you too, Daddy.”

The nightclub owner slipped himself back into his cobalt pants and then tipped her chin up with a single finger, blue-grey orbs locked with cerulean ones, and pressed his lips to her own. He tasted himself on her tongue and filled with a masculine pride.

Chapter Text

Almost a week had gone by since Sansa had moved in with him and Petyr couldn't have been happier, well, he could have been if he'd been in the penthouse with his girl rather than his club office watching the news. Catelyn and Ned covered the screen begging for any information on their missing daughter, Police wouldn't think she'd been abducted though, Sansa had packed all of her things and left of her own free will that much was obvious. His girl had been smart enough to leave her phone as well, it meant she couldn't be traced and that his was the only phone she had access to, a phone she had to ask to use. He couldn't let her go, she was his little girl, cared for, wanted and loved more than she'd ever been at the Stark home.

W hen a knock came at his office door, a gentle rapping that could have only been Olyvar , Petyr switched off the television and threw the remote over to the couch.


Sure enough the beautiful blonde known as Olyvar, or Oly to his friends, appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, Ros said to bring you this.” Oly gestured to the glass of bourbon in his hand as he crossed the room and set it down before his boss.

Petyr took a sip letting the alcohol burn pleasantly down his throat; Oly watched his Adam's apple bob happily.

“To what do I owe this to?” Littlefinger asked before taking another sip.

“Lysa Arryn is here.” Said the blonde with a look of pity and Petyr sighed then downed the lot.

Why did you even let her in, Olyvar? It's ten-thirty in the goddamn morning, we're shut.”

“Hey, don't shoot the messenger.” Oly held his hands up. “She slipped in when Azah arrived to do inventory, Mads isn't on the door until tonight otherwise she'd be halfway home by now.” Oly saw Petyr's body tense under his shirt.

“Fuck. What does she want?”

“You, of course.” The blonde laughed.

“One day I'm going to push that bitch off a bridge.” Petyr mumbled to himself almost absent-mindedly but Olyvar heard it and snorted.

“When you do, sell tickets. We'd make a fortune.”

“Hmm. Just get rid of her.” He commanded.

“Tried, she won't budge. I quote 'I'm not leaving until I see my Petyr!'”

Littlefinger let out another sigh and leaned back in his black chair, eyes stared at the ceiling for a moment before flashing back to Oly as he pulled his wallet from his breast pocket.

“Here.” He handed Olyvar a crisp twenty. “Go to the diner across the street and get the biggest slice of lemon cake you can find.” He'd promised his sweet Sansa a treat that morning when she'd complained about him going to work so early.

“Erm, okay. Never took you for a cake fan, Boss, but alright.”

With a dismissing glance from Petyr he was gone. Baelish looked over to his small wet bar and the bottle of bourbon that sat in one corner, if Lysa was downstairs he didn't know whether to drink it or smash himself over the head with in. In the end Petyr just stood, straightened his suit and headed downstairs. The building his club occupied was five floors and a basement, ground level was the main body of The Mockingbird while the second floor held the rooms his whores worked out off, third floor was his office and two smaller ones for Olyvar and Ros who acted as his co-second in commands. Staff lockers were on that floor too. The fourth floor was storage that no one ever really went in unless a holiday had reared it's ugly head. The fifth floor was his penthouse and the home of his darling Sansa. The penthouse was where he'd have much rather been instead of walking up to Lysa who stood dead centre of his club.

Azah, a stunning girl with mocha skin and dark eyes, was wiping down the black bar top while Ros sat on one of the black and purple stools going over music for the night. A few of his cleaning staff were dotted about as well but they all seemed to be giving Lysa Arryn a wide birth and Petyr couldn't fault them.

Steel blue eyes fell on Lysa, her faded red hair held in messy place by far too much hairspray and the women wore a dress that would have looked ugly even on a woman half her age, it was too tight, too small and a hideous pink.

“Lysa.” Said Baelish in an emotionless tone as he approached the woman.

Petyr darling!” She beamed, latched onto him and pressed her overly glossed lips to his, he cringed and Petyr was pretty sure Ros and Azah had as well.

There goes the taste of Sansa, said his mind with a mournful sigh.

Why are you here, Lysa?” That time of the morning she should have been fawning over that son of hers.

My niece has gone missing, you must have heard. I'm so worried.” She announced while cuddling into his chest, her perfume assaulting his nose.

I highly doubt that, thought Petyr, you couldn't care less you pathetic excuse for a woman. Despite his thoughts Littlefinger played along.

“What a tragedy-”

“I knew you'd understand.” She cut him off. “You always do.”

Maybe you should be with Cat?” He suggested as he pushed her away to look at her.

“She has that husband!” Lysa hated when Petyr mentioned her sister, always had and always would. “All those other children too.”

S he made it sound as though Sansa were easily replaceable, that was far from the truth, no amount of children could replace his girl. Sansa was special and utterly perfect!

You must be really worried about Sansa.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, very much.” She grinned. “Cuddle me better?”

I'd rather have my throat slit. I would love to but I have a meeting.” He lied effortlessly. “I was just about to leave when you arrived, I'll talk to you and Cat later.” No he wouldn't.

Tell them something came up.” She purred in a frightfully unattractive way. “Give me a few minutes and something will be up.” She chuckled and Petyr was suddenly glad there was nothing in his stomach to bring up. He sensed Azah and Ros cringe again.

It's not the sort of meeting I can miss, Lysa.” He reasoned. “You know I'd rather be with you.”

You're such a hard worker, Petyr.” She kissed him again, nothing like his darling Sansa did. “Jon doesn't even compare to you.” Littlefinger just smiled and pretend he gave a shit about anything she said. “I still need something to calm my nerves though, my poor niece.”

Petyr understood and grinned knowingly, finally they'd gotten to the real reason she was there.

Azah, help Lysa would you?” Though phrased as a question it clearly wasn't and the mocha skinned twenty-six year old nodded. “I'll be getting my things for my meeting.” Which translated to I'll be hiding in my office, although Petyr would have preferred the word retreating instead of hiding.

Baelish marched off back to his office quickly after that, thinking only of brushing his teeth and licking at Sansa's folds to get rid of the taste of Lysa Arryn.

Petyr slumped back into his office chair and looked over at the cameras to see Azah leading the older woman off to a blind spot, they stayed there for a moment as drugs were handed over and then thankfully Lysa left. Baelish let his head fall against the mahogany of his desk where it stayed even after Oly knocked and entered with a small plastic tray of lemon cake in his hand.

Your cake, My Lord.” Oly grinned smugly. “How bad was she?” Petyr just let out a disgruntled sound. “That bad, huh. You want more bourbon?”

F inally Petyr straightened up and went back to looking like the powerful man he was.

“No. I want a shower.”

“I could always join you.” Grinned Oly as his boss stood up, eyes raking over the older man.

“No, and stop trying to get me to fuck you.”

Oly continued to grin seductively. “Can't blame a guy for trying.”

“I can and I have.” He rounded his desk and took the plastic tray from Oly. “Oh, Tyrion will be here tonight so keep him occupied.”

“Oh I think Ros can certainly handle that, Boss.”

“Good, I'll be in the penthouse.”

With that he backed Olyvar out of his office, locked the door and headed for the large silver elevator.




Catelyn sat in the living room of the Stark house, her head in her hands as she cried, Ned holding her as close as he could, it didn't really comfort her though. Meanwhile Arya and Bran were in the breakfast table in the kitchen trying to tone out their mother's crying and prayers.


“I can't believe Sansa actually ran away.” Said the wheelchair bound boy with dark hair.

“I know.” Answered his sister. “I didn't think she'd actually have the guts... it did get us out of camp though.”

“Arya, Sansa is missing and you're making jokes.”

“Sorry, Bran. It's just... Sansa will come back.” She said with certainty. “I mean where would she go? She has to come back.”

“I don't know, its been almost a week.”

The two oldest Stark, Robb and Jon, chose that moment to walk through the kitchen door, slipping off their coats as they did.

“Bran might be right.” Said Robb reluctantly, a hand running through his red-brown hair. “Sansa can be determined when she wants to be.

“Yeah.” Jon agreed. “Our sister is braver and smarter that we often give her credit for.”

Because of how quiet Sansa tended to be, they all overlooked their sister. Arya was always getting into trouble, Bran needed more help than the others and Rickon was so young, Sansa bled into the background; it wasn't fair but that was what had happened.

I know I tease her but I never thought she'd run away.” Said Arya with a sigh.

“This isn't your fault, Arya.” Jon was quick to say.

“And none of us saw this coming.” Added Robb. “We'll find our sister, promise.”

Chapter Text

The silver elevator pinged and the doors rolled open for Petyr to enter his pristine penthouse, he walked past the piano and over to the kitchen sink where he got himself a glass of water to wash away Lysa. Sansa noticed the ungentlemanly gargling and grabbed her stuffie, Winston, as she rose from the couch. The bear hung loosely from her hand as she padded barefoot over to her Daddy, Petyr set the empty glass down when he noticed his girl, she looked stunning in her teal dress; sinfully short and sleeveless. 

“You look sleepy, my love.” He took her into his strong arms.

“No, Daddy. Not now you're here.” She rose up on her toes to kiss him, chaste and innocent. “Can I have my surprise now?”

Petyr chuckled and released his little girl.

“Have you been good for me?”

“Very, Daddy.” She smiled and Petyr found it infectious.

“Then I don't see why not.”

He picked up the tray from behind him on the kitchen counter and handed it to Sansa.

“Lemon cake, my favourite!” She beamed. “Thank you, Daddy.”

She pressed another kiss to his lips and Petyr took the chance to deepen it, his hands gripped her hips and pulled her closer, his tongue slipped across her bottom lip begging entrance that was quickly granted. Petyr only released her when their need for air became too great.

“Eat your treat, Sweetling.” He kissed her forehead. “I'm going to take a shower.”

“But you had a shower this morning.” Sansa looked puzzled.

“I need another one.” He told her a little more gruffly than intended. “Be good, Daddy will be back in a short while.”

She watched him vanish up the stairs towards the bathroom with a look of confusion but she didn't question her Daddy, instead Sansa got a fork from the middle draw in the kitchen and sat down at the glass dining table opposite Petyr's piano to eat her lemon cake. Yummy.

Petyr left his girl and went directly to his shower as though he'd die without it, he could still taste Lysa in the back of his mouth and the feel of her arms around his shoulders still irked him, Petyr was also a hundred percent certain that his Armani suit was going in the fire.

Baelish rested his forehead against the white tiled wall of his shower and sighed the moment he stepped inside, the water tumbled down over his body, he had to get his hands on the late Jon Arryn's company soon because he couldn't take much more of Lysa. Hot water rained down his body and over his face like a waterfall, gentle and soothing, which allowed his mind to go blank. Petyr was always plotting something and the shower had become his one place of peace, somewhere he could shut off, sometimes he even plotted in his dreams.

Just about a week had sailed by since Sansa had chosen to live with him but Petyr hadn't really had time to enjoy her in all the ways he wished and now Lysa had shown up and ruined his day with her stupid... Lysa-ness ! The words crazy, obsessive, annoying and bitch didn't quite cover it like Lysa-ness did.

Petyr scrubbed himself clean but could still taste her. Maybe I could drink bleach, he wondered, no, on second thoughts that's a bad idea. After he clambered out of the shower and dried himself off he set to brushing his teeth but that horrid taste just clung to the back of his palate, the woman was like a curse. It was revolting and Petyr had endured enough, he was pissed. He marched down the stairs in nothing but his expensive black boxers where he found Sansa binning the empty cake container; a happy smile rested on her lips.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Sansa asked as soon as she noticed him.

“Sit on the table.” He growled dominantly.


He was angry and didn't ask again, he simply grabbed her and slammed her down on the glass table with her legs open for him. Something inside Sansa wanted to purr. Almost instantly Petyr dropped to his knees and pulled her panties down, by now Sansa knew exactly what was happening and that sense of want inside her grew stronger. She wore cute little kitten stockings that made him smile, he'd not even tasted her and already she'd cheered him up.

“Be good for Daddy, Sweetling.”

Oh she was very good for him, she moaned loudly as his tongue licked and let out gasps and needy whimpers.

Petyr forgot all about Lysa Arryn when Sansa slipped her fingers into his salt and pepper hair and gripped it tight; her nails scraped against his scalp. When his baby girl came he didn't stop and brought her to climax again quickly, Petyr needed to hear her moan out for him, needed her to beg him.

“Daddy!” She cried out again.

Petyr's erection strained painfully against his boxers, he'd told her they'd wait until she was ready but by the way she was moaning out for him and letting her legs open wider she was and Petyr couldn't wait any longer. The glass dining room table wasn't right for his beautiful baby girl's first time though, nowhere near good enough, so Petyr rose to his feet and lifted Sansa into his arms before carrying her up to his bedroom where he deposited her softly on his purple bed.

The redhead was nervous, but the surge of want between her legs prevented her worry from coming to the surface. For a moment Petyr just looked at her as though taking in a beautiful piece of art or a goddess.

“Oh Sweetling, you're perfect in every way.”

He spoke almost absent-mindedly, as though it had been a thought that had somehow slipped free and Sansa had never felt so special in all her life.

“Thank you, Daddy.” When he stripped off his boxers though her worry finally emerged. “You said we wouldn't-”

“Fuck what I said! I need my baby girl.” With that he was on the bed, settling in the space between her legs and pulling off her clothes as though they offended him... then suddenly he stopped. “Do you want me to stop?”

Petyr cursed himself, Sansa was his red-haired angel, it was his job to protect her and make her happy not rush her into things because he'd lost control. He didn't want to stop but if she asked him to in that moment then he would, he'd never force her.

“No.” The word came out so soft and calm in a whispered tone.

“Thank fuck!”

Without another word his lips were on hers, a clash of teeth and tongue that Petyr knew he'd treasure for the rest of his life. Sansa could taste herself on him when their tongues met, a battle for dominance that he quickly won. Petyr pulled off her dress and shoes – little black ankle strap sandals – and threw them off into the corner closest to the door which left his girl completely naked save for her little kitten stockings that Petyr actually rather liked on her; his fingers danced over them.

“You like that, little one?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She gasped, eyes fluttering.

“You've been a very good girl for me, baby, and I've had a rough morning. How about you and I treat ourselves, hmm?”

Baelish's grin was infectious and his voice enticing, Petyr could probably talk a man dying of thirst into handing over his last bottle of water if he wished.

“I can smell how fucking wet you are baby girl, and I know it’s all for me.” 

He pressed himself against Sansa and she almost forgot how to breathe, Petyr's hips thrusting teasingly against her opening, he fisted a handful of Sansa's luxurious red hair and pulled back hard enough for her to let out a moan; she'd never felt anything like this before and she wanted more. Suddenly he grabbed her thighs and pulled her to him forcefully causing her breasts to bounce ever so slightly.

“When you cum I want you to scream for me. Scream so loud your mother knows I'm fucking you.” Petyr whispered in Sansa's ear before nipping at it.

He forced his lips on Sansa in a hard, possessive kiss. She made a small sound somewhere between a whimper and a purr, her hands went to his shoulders desperately. Petyr kissed and nipped his way down the young redhead's body where he soon reached her breasts and took a nipple between his teeth which forced a moan from her parted lips. Sansa was his and Petyr wanted – no needed – to mark her, he left purple and red bite marks across her breasts and down her stomach. Marks that would always remind her of him, marks that would remind Sansa how much she wanted and needed him. Marks that told the world she was his little girl, his Sweetling. Gods he made her feel so good and he'd barley even done anything to her.

She watched as Petyr reached into the night stand and pulled out a condom and mourned the loss of him when he leaned back to roll it onto his length.

“Relax Sweetling.” He wore a loving smile. “The more you tense, the more likely I am to hurt you and we don't want that.” Petyr whispered soothingly and Sansa felt the last of her worries melt away.

The redhead took a deep, calming breath, willing herself to relax.

This was it, one hard thrust and she'd no longer be a virgin, she met his eyes for a moment and knew he'd paused to give her another chance to refuse but Sansa wouldn't, she wanted this.

“Please, Daddy.”

Finally, finally, Petyr pushed into his Sweetling slowly so that she could feel every inch of his cock as he buried himself inside her. Sansa moaned, her back arched almost against her will. Sansa had expected her Daddy to be large but she'd not quite anticipated just how thick and long he'd be, in that moment Sansa knew that no other man would ever be able to satisfy her like Petyr. He settled both his hands on her hips and forcing Sansa back onto him that little bit further, she gasped as her head fell backwards against the soft pillows. Petyr's thrusts began slow and gentle but soon his need took over and snapped his hips fast and sharp, he set a hard pace using Sansa's hips to pull her back onto him. Sansa could only moan and grip the bed sheets until her slender fingers turned white. Petyr groaned, his hips thrusting powerfully with a satisfying sound of slapping skin. It was true that Sansa had no previous experience with sex but her body seemed to know exactly what to do, and innate knowledge and Sansa let it take over her, she let herself meet his thrusts as she chased after her orgasm. Sansa's blue eyes fluttered shut but Petyr didn't allow it andgrippedher neck to force her to look back at him.

“You keep your eyes on me, Sweetheart. Understood?” He he was breathless.

“... Yes... Daddy.”

Sansa was dangling on the very edge, looking down into the euphoric depths below with her Daddy not far behind her, she wiggled her hips in just the right way, teasing experimentally, and send him into a primal rut, thrusting like his life depended on it. It was then that the redhead grew needier that Petyr flipped them so as he could watch his baby girl ride him, his long and talented fingers gripped her hips leaving tiny little bruises over her porcelain skin, pulling her down onto him, impaling her. Sansa gathered up all her bravery and leaned down to kiss him again, gasping at the new angle and the way her kissed nipples grazed against his chest.

It was then that she could take it no longer and plunged into the smouldering waters of bliss and euphoria her body clamped down around the older man as she rode out her orgasm, pulling him over the edge and into climax with her.

Petyr lay on his back and pulled Sansa down so as she could cuddle into his chest, for a time he just lay there stroking her hair and basking in bliss... or at least he did until his phone started to buzz.

“Ignore it.” She yelped when Petyr spanked her, the sharp noise echoing around the bedroom.

“You don't make the rules, Sweetling.” With that he reached for the cellphone on the night table and answered.

Boss, are you coming back down or did you fall over in the shower?” It was Olyvar and his usual gleeful tone. “I can come and rescue your perfect naked ass if you like.

“Olyvar, it disturbs me that you spend so much time thinking about me naked.”

Sansa felt a wave of jealousy pass over her, she didn't want to share her Daddy. He was her's and to prove it she started to press kisses to his chest, a scar lay over it that she'd seen several times before but never had the courage to ask about, now wasn't the time either. 

“I'll be back soon, something came up.” Sansa couldn't help but smile, something certainly came up.

Olyvar mumbled something that she couldn't hear. “No you can't know. Now, get back to what I pay you for.” Petyr hung up and threw his phone back to the side table, he watched his girl for a few moments with those stormy green eyes of his. “Is this you trying to tempt me?”

“Yeah, Daddy.”

Petyr said nothing, just lay back and let his baby girl explore, Gods she was beautiful.

Chapter Text

It had passed eleven o'clock almost half a hour ago and the silvery moon shone through the windows of the Stark manor house and into the living room where Catelyn and her husband sat with their hearts full of sorrow. Cat was crying, she'd not really stopped since Sansa had vanished and all Ned could do to comfort his wife was wrap his strong arms around her.

Where is she, Ned?” The redhead sobbed into her husband's chest.

“I don't know, darling.” He was forced to answer, he longed for something else to tell her but until Sansa was found or came home he would only have that one sentence.

I knew those girls were a bad influence, they have to know where Sansa is.”

“Cat,” he sighed. “the police have already questioned them. Jeyne and Margaery don't know anything. Sansa will come back. She's sensitive, she just needs... time away, she'll come back.” Ned knew he was clutching at straws.

Time away ? From what? Us? We were sending her to camp, she would have had her time away .” Cat's eyes were red and painful.

“My love, we both know Sansa hates it there, they all do... except Bran. We raised a smart girl and so we have to trust that she'll come back soon.” Ned had always been the voice of reason at Stark Manor.

“What if someone did take her? What then?”

“Sansa's things are gone, that Carousel she loves so much too. If someone had taken her that would still be here.” Ned pulled his sobbing wife closer and let his large hands rub soothing circles on her back. “You're scaring yourself, Cat, you need to get some sleep. You'll feel better after some rest.”

Reluctantly Catelyn let Ned take her to bed where she managed to settle into fitful sleep after a few hours.




It hadn't taken a genius to realise that Sansa had started to go stir crazy locked up in Petyr's penthouse so he'd promised that they'd cook together, with police searching for her he wasn't about to let her go outside so cooking seemed like the next best thing. Cooking meat he needed to go shopping for ingredients but it hadn’t taken him very long to work his way through the store and gather up everything they'd need, the line was what slowed him down. It was long slow moving, so much so that Petyr found himself zoning in and out. His steel blue orbs ended up glancing around the large and rather cold building, the walls were a color somewhere between off white and yellow, it was rather disgusting in all honesty, and despite the late hour the place was rather packed. A familiar picture on the milk carton of the woman in front of him caught Petyr's attention, it was his Sansa and he had to admit that even her missing picture was beautiful. Apparently the Stark family now offered a reward, which wasn't surprising, Petyr smiled and wondered if he'd still get the reward after being released from jail; none of that was important though since he had no intention of ever giving up his sweet Sansa.

Finally the line started to pick up some speed and it was soon his turn, items were scanned and packed and Petyr paid before heading out to his beloved Aston Martin. He lit a cigarette, rolled down the window to let in the cool air and just sat there for a moment listening to his stereo while Petyr drummed his fingers against the wheel; the only source of light being the orange glow of his cigarette.


You made a fool out of me

And took the skin off my back running
So don't breathe when I talk
'Cause your hand, it's broke in two

I got a gun for my mouth and a bullet with your name on it
But a trigger full of heartbeat pulling from an empty pocket


The smoke burnt his throat pleasantly as the night air cooled and caressed his skin. When he was done Petyr threw the cigarette butt out the window and pulled out of the parking lot, engine purring as he raced through King's Landing. Petyr had gotten about three quarters of the way home when he'd received a phone call demanding that he got his skinny ass to Casterly Rock, the Lannister's manor house. He'd sighed knowing his little girl was going to be angry with him and then turned back towards the home of Tywin Lannister.

When he got there the staff ushered him quickly into Tywin's office where he found the man himself, Varys and the Boltons sat waiting for him. Varys, Petyr could cope with, they often spared and tried to out cryptic one another but the Boltons – especially Ramsay – Petyr always had the urge to kill; preferably with a blunt instrument.

“Baelish, it's about time.” Grumbled Tywin from behind his large mahogany desk as Petyr fell into his chair.

“Sorry, but my car is worth more to me than you waiting for-” He looked at his watch. “nine and a half minutes.”

Tywin grumbled again but said nothing more about it, instead he moved onto the reason he'd called them all there.

“I called this meeting because the retched police are on to our import route, I've already had the cargo moved to a different port but according to the officers on my payroll I only just managed to get the drugs moved. They're also suspicious of you, Baelish.”

“The KLPD has been suspicious of me for decades. You know what I'm like, more than three people in a room and I'll start a black market.” Ramsay snorted from the chair beside his father. “I've run a brothel in the middle of the city, right under their noses, for years. They can't touch me.”

“According to my little birds,” Began Varys, the bald man had a habit of being so silent everyone forgot he was in the room and that was how he liked it. “they'll be sending in a pretty young officer by the name of Lucrezia Willbond to have a look around and see what she can see. Here.”

Varys rummaged in the pocket of his grey suit pants before handing Petyr a photograph, Varys had always been old fashioned, he dealt in words and secrets and rarely sent anything using modern technology. The girl was pretty enough with long raven hair and bold grey eyes but to Petyr she was just another annoyance keeping him from his darling Sansa.

“Kill her, Baelish.” Said Tywin in a tone of authority. “Kill her before she even steps foot in The Mockingbird. I want a message sent, I'm miles ahead of them and always will be.”

“We should be doing this!” Announced Ramsay quickly. “The Boltons are your enforcers.”

Tywin glared. “Roose, I suggest you teach your son when to keep his mouth shut.” He turned to Ramsay, the dark-haired man would have lashed out by now had it been anyone other than Tywin who addressed him. “Ramsay, if I wanted blood and body parts everywhere and I would send you but I don't. I want a quick sharp stab to their operation and as much as I detest Baelish I have to admit he's rather efficient.”

Petyr just grinned sarcastically and mock glee.

“Oh, the honour.”

“Shut up, Littlefinger.” Snapped Ramsay before Tywin pulled everyone's attention back to himself.

“On Wednesday afternoon I'll have a new shipment ready for distribution. Bolton, I want your men watching the dock every single second.”

“Of course, Sir.” Nodded Roose Bolton.

The conversation grew boring after that and Petyr started to lose interest, he'd promised Sansa he'd only be gone thirty minutes, an hour tops, but it had gone eleven and she probably thought he'd abandoned her or something.

About twenty minutes later Tywin finally dismissed everyone and Petyr dashed to his car, rushed home and up in the elevator to his penthouse; paper grocery bags rested in his arms. When he stepped out he found all the lights off and Sansa nowhere in sight. He set the bags down on the kitchen island, the ice cream would have melted long ago but he didn't care. Petyr went straight up the stairs and down the long hallway to Sansa's room, inside he could see his Sweetling curled up on her side in bed dressed in another of the Lolita outfits he'd gifted her; Gods she's beautiful. Most of her stuffed toys had been pulled down from the shelves and now surrounded her on the teal colored bed almost like a fluffy wall.

“Hello, Sweetling.” He said softly. “I'm sorry I took so long.”

The second Petyr took a step towards her bed war broke out and stuffies were thrown across the room and into his face. A hippo, giraffe, dragon, unicorn, elephant, fox, tiger and a dozen other animals flew at him leaving Petyr deflecting them until she ran out of ammunition.

“You promised!” She said angrily. “You said we could spend the evening together! You lied!”

Sansa had been so looking forwards to a home cooked meal and a night of just them, she'd been so excited, then worry had set in, if there was anything she'd learnt about Petyr Baelish it was that when he said he'd do something he did it; especially when he'd promised his girl. For a while she'd tried to brush it off, his phone had died that was why he hadn't called, the Aston had broken down but by ten o'clock that had all ended. Worry gave way to annoyance and then slowly anger, she'd fought it at first, Sansa had no right to be angry with him yet anger continued to bubble until all she'd wanted to do was throw something at his smug face. Her sweet evening had turned into a hot pocket and a very mad little girl.

With a sigh Petyr picked up her favourite bear, Winston – who'd been the last thrown at him – and went to her bed and lay down so as his chest was to her back and set the bear down by her head; instantly she latched onto it.

“I know I promised, Sweetling, and Daddy's sorry.” His voice was soft and accented. “It was a work meeting, don't be angry with me baby.” She didn't look at him.

Slowly Petyr brushed a stray strand of Sansa's hair behind her ear and then pressed his lips to her porcelain neck. Sansa continued to pout and that alone made him want to flip her onto her back and bury himself inside her, Petyr resisted though, there was sadness in her eyes – even though he couldn't see them he knew there was – and she had a vice-like grip on Winston. Carefully he tried to roll her over to look at him but she refused.

“We'll cook tomorrow, I promise. Okay?” Reluctantly she nodded. “Good. Can I see a smile, Sweetling?” Nothing. “Come on, for your Daddy.”

Finally he managed to turn her over and tilted her head up so as Sansa had to look at him.


Petyr's hand shot to her throat keeping her in place with a firm hand, a flash of dominance that made Sansa want to purr.

“Oh Sweetling, I know you're upset but you don't yell at Daddy.” He pressed his lips to hers as the grip on her throat loosened. “Now let me see that beautiful smile.”

When she made no attempt to smile for him Petyr decided to bring out the big guns and started to tickle her, quickly he got the smile he wanted and it wasn't long before it broke out into giggling.

“There it is.” His lips met hers again for another chaste kiss. “Now, no more stuffie throwing.”

“Yes, Daddy. Sorry, Daddy.”

“That's okay, Sweetling. Change into something comfortable and come down stairs. You can choose something for us to watch and I think there's enough ice cream left for a bowl, unfortunately the new tub melted. It may be too late for us to start cooking but we can still spend time together.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

The prospect of ice cream and cuddled with her Daddy had instantly brightened her mood. Petyr pressed a final kiss to Sansa's lips and the vanished off downstairs having sufficiently cheered her up.

The stunning redhead stood and stripped off her clothes quickly so she could throw on a pair of little lilac night shorts and a silk black shirt she'd stolen from Petyr to sleep in; it still smelled of him.

When she padded down the stairs she found the man with ash at his temples stood at the bottom with the remote in one hand and a black bowl of chocolate ice cream in the other. Sansa grinned and took both on her way to the couch, she looked for something to watch while Petyr got himself a glass of bourbon and joined her. She chose Silence of the Lambs and sat with her feet in his lap while she ate her ice cream, Sansa had always been a horror and science-fiction fan – much to her mother's dismay – especially when there was a something of a taboo was involved and Petyr just smiled knowing the deep down his girl was as depraved as he was. When the bowl was empty she set it down on the coffee table and cuddled into her Daddy's chest and he wrapped a strong arm lovingly around her keeping her close. Sansa was happy and content, at peace, with his arms around her and she'd not felt that happy in a very long time.

“I love you, Sansa.” He told her when she rested her head against his chest.

“I love you too, Daddy.”

After a short while Sansa fell asleep and Petyr switched off the television with about twenty minutes of the movie left, he gathered the teenager into his arms and carried her upstairs but instead of taking her to her room Petyr turned and went to his own bedroom. He set her down and pulled the black sheets over her porcelain form, Petyr went to get Winston – who she easily grabbed in her sleep – before he clambered into bed and fell asleep with Sansa tucked against his strong chest.