And this one is dedicated to the famous and beautiful @restlessanawake who is really awesome! Go check them out! They were a massive help to me in setting up this blog. Hope you enjoy!!
Warnings: Pregnancy. Labor. Fluff overload ;) One sex joke With him and the whole Stark clan, This is post White Walker War were all is good and Jon knows his parentage, but still goes by Jon Stark, or I guess goes at last. Things are almost too happy. But fear not no one dies.. Well…..Meh
“Time to get up love.”
You groaned, pushing away the arms that were attempting to shake you awake and moved closer to the other side of the bed. “Jon.. Lemme sleep. Little Mister Stark would not stop kicking last night. I am surprised you couldn’t feel it actually.” You smirked and opened your eyes, hearing his laughter and he carefully turned you around as he echoed your smirk.
“I told you, my love. It will be a she.” You gave him judging eyes and he rolled his own gray ones, “Even our Lady Sisters and Lady Aunt is on my side. As is Tyrion.”
“Well while that may be true, Bran is on my side and he has the sight.” She winked while forcing herself to stand slowly. “Speaking of your Aunt and Sister, when will the royal Queen and the Hand be visiting?”
He smiled, standing up so that he could help you while he continued, “Sansa and Tyrion promised to be here by nightfall, but you know the Queen. She said she would be here a fortnight ago… She will do her best to make it for the labor. And Arya, of course, must guard the Queen being the head of the Queen’s Guard.”
Your nine-months were up and being a Stark, family was essential for all things. Holidays. Name-Days. Weddings. And pregnancies.
As though the stress of almost delivering a child was not enough, the anxiety that holding off the labor until everyone was present was madness. Jon, being around you enough, could tell.
“Fret not, Y/N.” He smiled, pressing his forehead yours and wrapping a robe dress around you for the day and kissed your nose, “They will be here. And now, we must break fast.”
No surprise to the couple, Bran was already down stairs, his plate full as he was working on his sister’s-in-law. Seeing them he stopped and blushed, wheeling towards the two slowly as Jon embraced his brother with a hearty laugh.
Brandon Stark was decreed Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King of the North, so the three of you were practically inseparable.
“How is the Lord Snow this morning, Y/N?” Bran smiled, wheeling towards her and placing his hands on her belly as Jon sat. “He get you any rest?”
“None.” Jon sighed from across the room, “She was kicking all night.”
This caused both you and Bran to laugh and Bran to say a small, “We shall see.” As the three of you began to eat your food.
A grand feast was the result of Lady Sansa and Lord Tyrion’s arrive, Jon and the imp drinking away while you, Sansa, and Bran sat across the hall, discussing matters of getting Bran married.
“What about the Mormont girl?” You suggested, “She supposedly has the beauty and wits of the Tyrell’s but the strength of her father’s name.”
“The Queens bastard?” Sansa raised her eyebrows, “She is an adventurous girl. Young though, don’t you think?”
Your sister in law had not left you alone since she arrived, her hand barely leaving your belly.
“Besides. I think our Bran has his eyes on the head of House Reed. Lady Meera, is it not?”
With the words of her name, Bran blushed and brushed it off, “Have you and Jon thought of a name?”
You nodded, “Well since he will not listen to me about the gender, I decided Eddard Robb will have to do.” Bran nodded, a bright grin taking away the blush on your face. Sansa gasped.
“I hate to agree with my Lord brother, I do believe that your babe is a girl.” She winked at you causing both of you to laugh as Jon and Tyrion came towards you guys, handing drinks to Bran and Sansa.
Jon broke the laughter, snaking an arm around your waist to your belly as he looked at Sansa and Tyrion, “When are you and the Hand planning to have children, sister?”
Sansa’s face fell and she set down her goblet, Tyrion taking her hand. “We are waiting.” Silence fell between them as they knew what he meant before Tyrion broke it, winking at the youngest Stark, “We would like to see little Bran wed to the Reed girl first.” Bran blushed as everyone laughed mutter a small no stop as Jon kissed your cheek, then moved to your ear, his beard tickling her cheek.
“Bet it will happen by years end?”
“Please, by months end!” You smirked and he pepper kisses everywhere on your face, causing you to laugh.
A few days had passed and you were still waiting on Dany and Arya. Maesters had demanded you bedridden, fearing labor would come any moment though nothing came for a week. Deciding this and seeing your husbands nerves at an all time high, you had forced him to go on a hunt with Tyrion and Bran, promising that Sansa and a hand maiden be at your side.
“I just want you out lil lord.” You groaned, rubbing sleet off your eyes as you had not gotten proper sleep in several days,(basically since Jon left, your baby had been especially persistent in moving all night) “Stop being so feisty like your father and his family.” You smirked at Sansa who laughed. “Where do you the Queen and her personal guard are?”
“You know Daenerys. “ She smiled sadly, rubbing your belly, “And Arya. Stubborn as mules those two.”
“Aye. That is one way to put it.”
Silence fell as you were both occupied as the baby leapt and kicked about the in your belly causing you to hum in attempt to calm him. When at last he stopped, you sighed and Sansa smiled, but only for a moment when you felt something wet between your legs.
Cursing, you looked at Sansa whose eyes twinkled.
“Do you think-”
“Sansa…” You bit your lip to stop you from swearing again, “Get Ghost. He will get Jon. And get the Hand Maiden… Hurry… Please…”
She ran, laughing gleefully and picking up her skirts hollering, “IT’S TIME! THE HEIR TO THE NORTH IS ON THE WAY!” And within minutes, servants came rushing in, dabbing your forehead with a cloth and offering you food and wine as others spread your legs open. All the while all you could do was scream bloody murder.
“I just want my husband!” You whined, “Gods!” You closed eyes and bit your lip to try to and stop tears from falling out of your eyes.
Then you felt the tickle of a beard on your chin and allowed yourself to cry tears of happiness and the man kissed your cheek and slowly wiped your tears away.
“Hush now love. You need to start pushing.”
“Yes you can.” He grabbed both her hands and brought them to her lips,”You are strong.. You can do this… I believe in you… Ready?”
You nodded opening your eyes to meet his dark grey (brown in show) ones.
said there’s no mistakin’ what i feel is really love
—sam smith (whitney houston cover)
When Sansa had received the gold-leaf invitation to celebrate Loras Tyrell and Renly Baratheon’s spring wedding, her expectations were high. She had known Loras since high school—indeed, she was best friends with his sister Margaery to this day, five years after their graduation—and as such she had come to know the Tyrells to be the most extravagant of families. As a young woman with equally lavish tastes, Sansa had gotten on with them famously.
While never quite so bold or, at times, rather outlandish as Margaery and Loras, because of their influence Sansa had gained a sense of poise and sophistication well beyond that of her own family. That’s not to say that the Starks were not held in high esteem. But Catelyn Stark had always said that while all of her children had been born with silver spoons in their mouths, her eldest daughter had grown up to fashion hers into a crown. Sansa had once taken offense to that, thinking her mother meant to make a materialistic fool of her, but as she grew older she gained a better perspective.
Not one among their elite set did not have a taste for the finer things—not even her younger sister, Arya, much as she would like to pretend otherwise—and Sansa simply accepted her good fortune and used it to do good by herself and others. Margaery felt the need to point this out at every availability, usually when Sansa showed up to a social event with a less-than reputable beau on her arm. Which, even Sansa can admit in retrospect, is often. Loras’ wedding is no exception, although Sansa has yet to look at it in hindsight.
Pairing: None really. More friendship fluff between reader, Robb, and Jon.
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Warnings: None. Theon is kind of a jerk.
Summary: You’re a regular girl from the 21st century that gets accidently transported into Game of Thrones
You had been running late to your first class. The school wasn’t far from your house, but unfortunately your car was having problems and you couldn’t drive that day. You hated walking, especially at this time of year. It was hot and humid, and your whole body felt sticky.
You weren’t expecting to fall, though. You had taken this route many times before, back in the day before you had a car and walked to school. There was never any constructions in the road, yet you somehow managed to trip, and when you threw your hands out, hoping to catch yourself before your face smacked into the pavement, you were surprised when the concrete never came.
prompt: Sansa is the one that usually takes care of everyone's injuries but Jon is the one that takes care of Sansa's injuries after getting knocked off of her horse
It’s strange, Jon thinks, wiping blood off Sansa’s collarbone. He winces as a hiss leaves her mouth, his way to apologize without actually saying so. She’s the one who cleans his wounds when he’s injured in the training yard or when he scrapes himself trying to rebuild Winterfell’s broken halls - he’s not meant to be cleaning her up.
Sansa pulls the furs on their bed higher up her body, undressed except for her smallclothes. She’s unashamed next to her husband, body bruised and torn from the fall from her horse. “I don’t know what happened. I was fine one second and then I fell to the ground.”
“I regret not being able to help you. I only heard when you hit the ice,” Jon replies, dipping the cloth into the water to clean the blood from her face. “We had you carried back to Winterfell and for a moment, I thought I had lost you.”
There’s a certain tenderness in Jon’s voice and in his touch - he’s not lying. Sansa did not wake until she had been placed in bed and attended by the maester. He frowns as he sees the bruise upon her cheek and the cuts on her palms. He finishes cleaning her up, as best he can. “Shall I have a bath drawn for you?” He asks, brushing his fingers over Sansa’s neck, reaching until he can brush her long hair behind her ear.
She wraps her fingers around Jon’s wrist, giving him a small smile before she leans into his touch, closing her eyes. Her body aches and burns, but she nods, pulling her husband closer to her. Her lips touch his first, so softly that Jon barely feels them. He does not wish to hurt her - but Sansa’s hand trailing to the back of his neck only serves as encouragement.
Jon kisses Sansa like she’ll leave him once more if he stops, lips molding to hers. His fingers braid into her hair, keeping her close to him. When he pulls back, Sansa smiles, breath leaving her lips in quick movements
“You’ll not lose me so easily, Jon. You worry so much.”
Jon manages a laugh. “Aye, but you’ve become my main worry now. I’m the one meant to have wounds, not you.”
Sansa shakes her head, pecking his lips once more before she pulls back. She may be a little broken at the moment, but she’ll heal.
You know you're in it too deep when you still smile at Jon and Sansa's Battle of the Bastards parley shot - the shot where one, having no/incomplete context of the show, would think they're king and queen. Ugh! It has almost been a year. Get over it, me.
For @paperflowercrowns because I don’t deserve a gift like you in my life, but I’m also super selfish so now you aren’t allowed to go lol
Bran couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the Frey kid currently giving his eldest sister heart eyes as she hustled across campus. He snorted as he saw her duck into the art studio and not even five minutes later Jon came rushing in after her.
His snort had apparently caught the attention of the Frey boy and he almost regretted it.
"Hey, you’re Sansa’s brother Ben right?“ The kid asked.
"My name is Bran, but yes I’m Sansa’s brother” Bran could only hope the Frey boy would feel mortified at his faux pas and leave him alone. Alas it felt like both The Seven and Old Gods had chosen to ignore him.
"Do you know if she’s single?“ The boy asked with an eager hopefulness.
Bran debated about the best way to let the boy down gently. He knew his sister’s relationship wasn’t a campus secret, but it wasn’t necessarily common knowledge either.
He saw his sister leaving with Jon from the art building. He could tell they more than likely reviewed Sansa’s photography project by her general glow and Jon’s look that was a bit peppier than his normal sullen look.
"Follow me” he started wheeling his way to the art building. If he showed the pictures maybe he wouldn’t have to explain it in words to the boy how off the market Sansa Stark was.
The boy looked confused but had managed to follow Bran into the art building.
Once they reached the photography room he looked for the book with his sisters name on it and handed it to the Frey boy.
The boy hurriedly flipped through the pictures while making noises of confusion at different sections.
“What is this?” He gestured to the pictures.
The current page had a picture of both Jon and Sansa holding each other on a bed. The lighting was soft and romantic.
"That would be Jon Targaryen comforting my sister after we had to put her dog down" Bran had a soft smile as he remembered Jon not even protesting when Sansa had realized Rickon had accidentally set the self timer on her camera and caught several snapshots of their quiet moment.
"And this one?“ The Frey boy had pointed to a new photo. The photo was of this hike that Sansa was particularly proud of despite getting injured.
"Ah, that would be Sansa and Jon’s anniversary hike up at Castle Black” Bran said as nonchalantly as possible.
The boy clearly wasn’t understanding from the photos that Jon and his sister were a couple.
He could tell the moment of comprehension because the boys face became absolutely crestfallen. He knew there would be no way to compete with a Targaryen.
Not that Jon’s last name ever mattered to Sansa. It was moments like on their anniversary hike where he carried her for four miles after she had badly twisted her ankle and never complained once. Or how one tearful phone call about Lady and he was at their home in less than ten minutes to comfort her. They were the kind of couple who had the type of love people ached to write about. But Bran didn’t feel it was necessary to explain that to a boy with a pitiful crush.
"Well, what about your other sister. Arya is she single?“ The boy asked with a new gleam of hope in his eyes.
"Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Bran smiled as the boy nodded and proceeded to leave him no doubt to search out Arya.
Well, if Arya didn’t punch him maybe Pod would. Those two were even less secretive than Jon and Sansa about their affections.
Summary: You’re the Bolton heir betrothed to Sansa Stark. Everyone has their ideas about who you are and what this marriage will entail but none of them, not even Sansa know a thing about who you really are.
Notes: I don’t know how well this came out. I haven’t watched game of thrones since season 3 or 4 I can’t remember so lol hope you like it!
“Walk with me,” Joffrey commanded, offering her his arm. She had no choice but to take it. The touch of his hand would have thrilled her once; now it made her flesh crawl. “My name day will be here soon,” Joffrey said as they slipped out the rear of the throne room. “There will be a great feast, and gifts. What are you going to give me?”
“I … I had not thought, my lord.”
“Your Grace,” he said sharply. “You truly are a stupid girl, aren’t you? My mother says so.”
“She does?” After all that had happened, his words should have lost their power to hurt her, yet somehow they had not. The queen had always been so kind to her.
“Oh, yes. She worries about our children, whether they’ll be stupid like you, but I told her not to trouble herself.” The king gestured, and Ser Meryn opened a door for them.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she murmured. The Hound was right, she thought, I am only a little bird, repeating the words they taught me. The sun had fallen below the western wall, and the stones of the Red Keep glowed dark as blood.
“I’ll get you with child as soon as you’re able,” Joffrey said as he escorted her across the practice yard. “If the first one is stupid, I’ll chop off your head and find a smarter wife. When do you think you’ll be able to have children?”
Sansa could not look at him, he shamed her so. “Septa Mordane says most … most highborn girls have their flowering at twelve or thirteen.”
Joffrey nodded. “This way.” He led her into the gatehouse, to the base of the steps that led up to the battlements.
Sansa jerked back away from him, trembling. Suddenly she knew where they were going. “No,” she said, her voice a frightened gasp. “Please, no, don’t make me, I beg you …”
Joffrey pressed his lips together. “I want to show you what happens to traitors.”
Sansa shook her head wildly. “I won’t. I won’t.”
“I can have Ser Meryn drag you up,” he said. “You won’t like that. You had better do what I say.” Joffrey reached for her, and Sansa cringed away from him, backing into the Hound.
“Do it, girl,” Sandor Clegane told her, pushing her back toward the king. His mouth twitched on the burned side of his face and Sansa could almost hear the rest of it. He’ll have you up there no matter what, so give him what he wants.
She forced herself to take King Joffrey’s hand. The climb was something out of a nightmare; every step was a struggle, as if she were pulling her feet out of ankle-deep mud, and there were more steps than she would have believed, a thousand thousand steps, and horror waiting on the ramparts.
From the high battlements of the gatehouse, the whole world spread out below them. Sansa could see the Great Sept of Baelor on Visenya’s hill, where her father had died. At the other end of the Street of the Sisters stood the fire-blackened ruins of the Dragonpit. To the west, the swollen red sun was half-hidden behind the Gate of the Gods. The salt sea was at her back, and to the south was the fish market and the docks and the swirling torrent of the Blackwater Rush. And to the north …
She turned that way, and saw only the city, streets and alleys and hills and bottoms and more streets and more alleys and the stone of distant walls. Yet she knew that beyond them was open country, farms and fields and forests, and beyond that, north and north and north again, stood Winterfell.
“What are you looking at?” Joffrey said. “This is what I wanted you to see, right here.”
A thick stone parapet protected the outer edge of the rampart, reaching as high as Sansa’s chin, with crenellations cut into it every five feet for archers. The heads were mounted between the crenels, along the top of the wall, impaled on iron spikes so they faced out over the city. Sansa had noted them the moment she’d stepped out onto the wallwalk, but the river and the bustling streets and the setting sun were ever so much prettier. He can make me look at the heads, she told herself, but he can’t make me see them.
“This one is your father,” he said. “This one here. Dog, turn it around so she can see him.”
Sandor Clegane took the head by the hair and turned it. The severed head had been dipped in tar to preserve it longer. Sansa looked at it calmly, not seeing it at all. It did not really look like Lord Eddard, she thought; it did not even look real. “How long do I have to look?”
Joffrey seemed disappointed. “Do you want to see the rest?” There was a long row of them.
“If it please Your Grace.”
Joffrey marched her down the wallwalk, past a dozen more heads and two empty spikes. “I’m saving those for my uncle Stannis and my uncle Renly,” he explained. The other heads had been dead and mounted much longer than her father. Despite the tar, most were long past being recognizable. The king pointed to one and said, “That’s your septa there,” but Sansa could not even have told that it was a woman. The jaw had rotted off her face, and birds had eaten one ear and most of a cheek.
Sansa had wondered what had happened to Septa Mordane, although she supposed she had known all along. “Why did you kill her?” she asked. “She was god-sworn …”
“She was a traitor.” Joffrey looked pouty; somehow she was upsetting him. “You haven’t said what you mean to give me for my name day. Maybe I should give you something instead, would you like that?”
“If it please you, my lord,” Sansa said.
When he smiled, she knew he was mocking her. “Your brother is a traitor too, you know.” He turned Septa Mordane’s head back around. “I remember your brother from Winterfell. My dog called him the lord of the wooden sword. Didn’t you, dog?”
“Did I?” the Hound replied. “I don’t recall.”
Joffrey gave a petulant shrug. “Your brother defeated my uncle Jaime. My mother says it was treachery and deceit. She wept when she heard. Women are all weak, even her, though she pretends she isn’t. She says we need to stay in King’s Landing in case my other uncles attack, but I don’t care. After my name day feast, I’m going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That’s what I’ll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother’s head.”
A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, “Maybe my brother will give me your head.”
Joffrey scowled. “You must never mock me like that. A true wife does not mock her lord. Ser Meryn, teach her.”
This time the knight grasped her beneath the jaw and held her head still as he struck her. He hit her twice, left to right, and harder, right to left. Her lip split and blood ran down her chin, to mingle with the salt of her tears.
“You shouldn’t be crying all the time,” Joffrey told her. “You’re more pretty when you smile and laugh.”
Sansa made herself smile, afraid that he would have Ser Meryn hit her again if she did not, but it was no good, the king still shook his head. “Wipe off the blood, you’re all messy.”
The outer parapet came up to her chin, but along the inner edge of the walk was nothing, nothing but a long plunge to the bailey seventy or eighty feet below. All it would take was a shove, she told herself. He was standing right there, right there, smirking at her with those fat wormlips. You could do it, she told herself. You could. Do it right now. It wouldn’t even matter if she went over with him. It wouldn’t matter at all.
“Here, girl.” Sandor Clegane knelt before her, between her and Joffrey. With a delicacy surprising in such a big man, he dabbed at the blood welling from her broken lip.
The moment was gone. Sansa lowered her eyes. “Thank you,” she said when he was done. She was a good girl, and always remembered her courtesies.
Just a little bit of trash fic I wrote for the Day 1 Jon x Sansa Fanfiction’s 15 Days of Valentine’s challenge…
Sansa did not kiss Jon when they were in elementary school.
She was eight years old and still believed boys had cooties in their mouths when Robb brought his new friend home for dinner one autumn night. He and Jon had been assigned desks next to each other in Mr. Cassel’s fourth-grade class at Northern Wintertown Elementary School and had become fast friends. Jon was very shy and barely said a word to anybody other than Robb, except for when he thanked Sansa’s parents for having him. When he came around for dinner again the next week, Arya somehow got him to laugh, and the week after that, he showed Bran how to shoot a squirt gun. He didn’t say anything to Sansa, though, for over a month, until the day when Mrs. Cerwyn sent her to the principal’s office for arguing with Elia Sand during art class. Sansa had tried to tell Mrs. Cerwyn that Elia had snapped at her for trying to explain the rules of their painting project, but Mrs. Cerwyn would hear none of it. Sansa cried all the way to the office and back and held the pink slip she received as though it was burning a hole through her hand. Mother reprimanded Sansa very sharply when saw the slip, and when Father got home from work he told Sansa how disappointed he was, and then Robb looked at the painting on which she had spent hours and said it had too much pink in it. Sansa was about to start crying all over again when Jon told her the painting was pretty. His face turned as pink as the roses in it when he said so, but he smiled a little bit when Sansa thanked him.
From the prompt list: INAPPROPRIATELY TIMED PROPOSALS or “can u help me sneak my cat (or dog, because Ghost and/ Lady) into my dorm” au. Please and thank you?
basically, I rewrote this three times because you deserve only the best & I hope you enjoy it love!
that stunning red head who is watching your dog and you are not so secretly in
Are you talking about Sansa?
Also, I am not secretly in love with her. I’m not in love with her at all.
Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt my friend. Remind me what your current phone
MY BACKGROUND IS FROM WHEN SHE TOOK GHOST TO GET ONE OF THOSE PUPPACINOS THAT
DOESN’T MEAN I AM IN LOVE.
He doth protest too much.
tossed his phone onto his bed and pointedly ignored the second chime. He didn’t
want to read whatever nonsense Sam had decided to send him. Sam wasn’t the only
one who gave him a hard time about being in love with Sansa either.
Jon felt like he was talking to a brick wall when various friends would make
comments about their love. They hadn’t been close growing up, but their
relationship had changed when he took on his RA role at the university.
Originally Robb was supposed to watch Ghost, but he had decided to follow a
girl and transfer to Riverlands University. He knew from Robb that Sansa had
just come out of an awful relationship when she quietly offered to watch Ghost.
had been unsure, but he was left with little to no options. He didn’t regret it
now because he got daily updates of Ghost. Sansa made sure to spoil Ghost. He
had never had so many photos or videos of his dog before.
their connection with Ghost they had tentatively branched out and talked about
other things. Their talks had soon morphed into study sessions at the library
and getting coffee from the quad. He could admit that he enjoyed spending time
the shift in their relationship his meddling RA friends had decided that he was
in love with Sansa. Each of them made it their mission to remind him every day
that he was in love with her. They would remind him about how well she took
care of Ghost. At one point Sam told him to propose to her because no one was
more perfect for him than Sansa.
Even if he admitted he was in love with Sansa
it wouldn’t matter. He could never tell her especially after everything Joffrey
had done to her. If he admitted to his friends that they would try and give him
some sort of pep talk he didn’t need or want.
thoughts were broken when his phone chimed again and there was soft knocking at
threw open his door and was shocked to see Sansa standing there with Ghost.
“What are you doing here San? How’d you get
Ghost up here?” Jon asked because he
knew there was no way Sam would let Sansa sneak Ghost up to his dorm despite
how much he wanted them to date.
you get my text about my surprise?” Sansa looked a little disappointed in his
confusion. Ghost seemed to pick up on how tense Sansa was and nudged into her
side. Jon felt his heart leap up to his throat at the smile Sansa was giving his
sorry I wasn’t really reading my texts” Jon apologized and moved so that both
Ghost and Sansa could fully come into his dorm room.
that makes sense. I wasn’t interrupting anything, right?” Sansa asked as she
sat on his bed. Ghost stuck close to Sansa, but he could see the dogs tail
really, but even if I was I am much more curious how you managed to sneak Ghost
into here? Not even Robb could pull that off” Jon asked. Though, if he were
being honest he was grateful that she had Ghost there distracting him because
he could focus on that instead of the way her blue sundress seemed to accentuate
her curves and showcase her long legs.
remember how we discussed that I don’t like leaving Ghost at home” Sansa paused
she scratch Ghost’s ears, “I guess after the
incident with Joffrey my therapist suggested a service animal to help with
my anxiety and panic attacks. I know Ghost is your dog, but the vet said he was
the perfect candidate to get certified.”
hated the hesitation on Sansa’s face. He hated even more how she summed up the
terror she survived with Joffrey as just some incident. More than ever Jon
wished he could see the Lannister and make him pay for what he had done to the
sweetest girl ever.
that he is certified anytime you want to see him I can get a visitor pass and
bring him up and I know after your RA position is up you will take Ghost back.
I didn’t certify him to keep him from you.” She looked terrified as the words
came out of her mouth. “Oh, god please don’t think I’m trying to take him from
you. That wasn’t my intention, I just fell in love with him. He’s a lot like
seemed to hone in on Sansa’s anxiety and placed his head fully in her lap and
licked her hands. In that moment, Jon, could hear the speeches Gilly and Sam
usually gave about the type of person he would fall in love with. They teased
whoever could win the affection and loyalty of his dog would surely find their
way into his heart. This was so much more than that.
wasn’t much thought when he surged forward and kissed her. It was sloppy and
more than once their teeth clacked against each other. Despite the sloppy
nature of the kiss Jon was sure he had never felt more from any kiss. There was
just a feeling that something right, that something wonderful, was just beginning.
at Sansa’s dazed face he knew he would have to say something, but her swollen
lips were distracting him. For a moment, it looked like Sansa might apologize
to him with a hoarse whisper he told her “Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize to
me. If you don’t want to kiss or go any further that’s okay, but never
apologize to me for that kiss or for taking care of Ghost.”
if I want to go further?” Sansa shyly asked.
just marry me now then” Jon told her before kissing her again. This was slower
and less sloppy than their first kiss. He could run his hands through her hair
and feel her grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer. She made a soft
moan when his hands softly tugged on her hair.
much as Jon wanted to make her repeat the noise again and again, but Ghost wasn’t
having any of it. He barked at Jon and Sansa couldn’t help the laugh that
escaped her in that moment.
you still want to marry me when I have such a fierce protector?” Sansa smiled
as she gestured to Ghost who looked content once he knew Sansa was all right
deserve the fiercest protectors. But I suppose I owe Gilly and Same some kind
of thank you gift” Jon told her honestly.
you gifts? Why” Sansa seemed genuinely puzzled at the statement.
they’ve been telling me to tell you I how much I love you. And they were right
that the girl I would fall in love would be the girl that won the affection and
loyalty of Ghost” Jon told her quietly.
her was different than admitting he was in love with her, but he felt better
once the words were out. He never wanted to take them back either.
you’re telling me all it takes are puppacinos to win your love? Who knew Jon
Snow was so easy?” Sansa teased. Jon couldn’t help the snort that came out when
Ghost perked up at puppacino.
know it was more than that” Jon held her gaze. He wanted, no he needed Sansa to
see that she was more than that. That truthfully they had been treading towards
this for a while.
know and I think I am in love with you too” Sansa confided quietly.
kissed her again and this time Ghost chose not to interrupt. He just hopped
onto the bed and wagged his tail endlessly as he watched.
Gilly said she saw Sansa & you holding hands as you got your beast one of
those silly dog drinks from the café.
I’m surprised she missed the kissing.
I KNEW YOU TWO WERE A PERFECT MATCH.
Also, Gilly and I found a tie the same shade as Sansa’s eyes. We’ll save that
for your wedding.
well since they interact from the first time in season 6 a lot of my favorite scenes come from that.
5) The tent scene. So much tension, so much drama. Also we have one of the most sweet quote from the show by far “ I will never let him touch you again, I will protect you, I promise”
4) The winter is here scene. The look Jon gives sansa, the forehead kiss, the smile sansa gives jon at the end. Everything really about that scene gives me joy.
3) Them drinking beer and talking about taking winterfell from Ramsay. Oh man that some great scene and the chemestry between sophie and kit is just out of this world.
2) When Sansa gives Jon his coat, the little smile he does when he has a clothing that is so similiar to his hero Eddard Stark, you can see how emotional he was about it. And for sansa to finally have someone nice to be with, to let her guard down, its just beautiful
1) The reunion. After 5 seasons of suffering, after his death and her being raped, to finally have that one moment when my favorite characters are safe in eachothers amrs, was everything i wished for and more. Sansa face when she hugs jon, her soft sigh, or Jon closing his eyes to really feel the moment. His hand caressing her back. It was THE MOMENT. (i am Brienne, in that scene…)
Hiiiii could you write a fanfic that revolves around this quote Jon says to Sansa in an argument: 'I'm pushing you away because everytime you're near me... I just wanna grab you and kiss you, and the fact you're my half sister is not the problem, the problem is I don't care.'? And of course I'd appreciate a happy ending because if there isn't one what's the point? XD
Hi! Sorry this took so long. I’ve been stuck on this fic for ages, probably because writing fic before R+L=J is revealed to them both is not exactly my thing. Still, I think it turned out alright and I hope you like it!
Sansa didn’t know when it happened exactly. She and Jon were
getting so close as they rebuilt Winterfell. He looked to her for instructions
on courtesy and politics in his new positon and he aided her in hiring masons
and arming the castle for the imminent backlash from King’s Landing.
Their evenings were even spent with one another. After long
dinners appeasing lords and wildlings alike they would eventually retire
wearily to Jon’s solar, close as it was to Sansa’s rooms. There they would talk
over the day as Sansa sewed by the fire. It seemed, Jon trusted Sansa’s opinion
more than any of his newfound advisors and he often shared his deepest concerns
They rarely spoke of their time apart, but the conversation
would often slip back into tales from their shared childhood.
They had never been close as children, but Sansa truly felt
that they were close now. Jon knew her better than anyone now, even Brienne.
And she knew Jon, she liked to think.
That was why it was so strange when suddenly he stopped
talking to her altogether.
At first it was subtle. She would ask him for help in ordering
the glass for the glass gardens and he would direct her to the Lord Steward
instead. She would go to his solar after dinner and he would feign a headache.
But all too soon he was avoiding her entirely. She would
wave across the courtyard and only receive a stiff nod in return before he fled
to the training yard. He took to talking to Ser Davos or the Lady Lyanna
instead of her at dinner, even as she sat beside him.
“Have I done something wrong?” she found herself desperately
asking Brienne one day.
A/N - Game of thrones imagine where the reader had a secret relationship with Joffrey, and when Sansa and Cersei find out, Sansa tries to do everything to get her killed/taken away and Cersei supports her a bit? Love this blog, it’s golden!
For mazegunner, sorry for the wait, enjoy <3
Joffrey bit your lip hard. You smirked into the kiss, making sure to bite his lip even harder. He pulled back, smirking back at you, “You just bit me”. You grinned at him mischieviously, “I know”. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “That’s an act of treason against your king .That’s punishable” he smiled down at you. “Then punish me my king” you flirted back. His lips came back down to your lips, he deepened the kiss but soon stopped to attack your neck, making you moan out in pleasure as he sucked on your neck.
“Your grace-” a voice sounded by the door. Joffrey looked up and sighed in anger. “Haven’t you hear of knocking?” he growled at a horrified Sansa. You tried to push away from him but his grip was like a vice. “Your grace what are you doing with Lady (Y/N)?” Sansa’s voice held tones of envy and anger. “That is none of your concern” Joffrey hissed, becoming impatient with the Stark girl. By now you had escaped from Joffrey and were desperately trying to hide the love bites on your neck. As you struggled to correct your appearance, Sansa glared daggers at you. “Your grace-” Sansa started but Joffrey stopped her, “What do you want?” he said rolling his eyes.
Would you write 16 or 52? You're an amazing writer, by the way.
(◠‿◠) thank you!
easy enough to converge these into a nice little two-parter, so here it is! (the vaguest of smut, and a little lighter/fluffier than usual but, hey, i’m versatile.)
16) things you said with no space between us
“I think—ouch, my arm’s stuck.”
Jon tries not to laugh but—as usual when he’s around her—can’t help it, and is relieved when Sansa smiles with him, because her insistence that “It’s not funny” is wholly unbelievable, as well she knows.
“What exactly did you think you were doing when you stuck your hand in there?”
Sansa purses her lips and lifts her chin, but avoids his gaze. Only Sansa could manage to look haughty with her forearm stuck in a hole in the wall. “I’d rather not say.”