#sansa stark fanfiction

[ichorai]

be ; sansa stark.

track ten of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; sansa stark x gn!reader

synopsis ; sansa only knew love from tales of gallant knights and distressed damsels. she thought love was meant to be loud and extravagant. you taught her that quiet love was just as meaningful—that love didn’t have to always be a statement. love could just be there, and that was enough.

words ; 1.8k

themes ; angst, fluff, mild childhood friends to lovers

warnings / includes ; crying, reader calls sansa a spoiled brat (affectionately), set before her entire character arc in game of thrones when she was still living in winterfell

main masterlist.

The fire crackled back to life as you placed another log on top of the dying embers, licking greedily at the wood. Sansa tore her eyes away from the fabric across her lap, watching as the warm amber glow of the fire bathed your features in honey-hued luminescence. Sharp shadows drew over your face, and stretched even further when you turned to her, a soft smile etched onto your lips.

“How are you getting along with that dress, Sansa?”

She blinked, looking back down at her work laid out over her knees, and she began working on the stitches once more. “Not bad. Though, I’m not so sure this color suits me very much.” 

You strode away from the fire and sank down into the chair beside her, glancing at the deep emerald of the cloth. “I think it looks wonderful. Brings out your eyes.”

A flustered blush stained her skin with a kiss of wine, and she downcast her gaze back to her craft bashfully, opting to remain humbly silent. 

With one last easy smile, you cracked open the book you had placed to the side to stoke the fire, easing into the seat with a pleasant hum. 

Sansa stole quick looks at your side profile, her heart thrumming within her chest with every peek. The elated rush your compliment gave her made Sansa work on the dress twice as fast, her fingers moving so quickly it was a wonder she didn’t accidentally poke herself with the needle. 

“What’s the dress for, anyway?” you asked idly, flipping the page. 

“Just something pretty to wear,” she replied, her teeth softly digging into the flesh of her bottom lip. Hesitantly, she spoke again, this time more timidly, “Do you want to be married, Y/N?”

There was a beat of silence, and Sansa could feel the dread and regret wind itself around her stomach. You blinked in surprise, tearing your gaze away from the book and up to the flame-headed girl beside you. 

Pursing your lips, you gave her question another second of thought, before shrugging aimlessly. “I mean, I’m not particularly looking for marriage at the moment. I’m perfectly content as I am right now.”

Before Sansa could stop herself, she launched into a tirade of defensive questions. “But don’t you ever feel like… things could be better? Like you’ll meet the right person one day and everything would just—fall right into place? Doesn’t it feel like a piece of you is missing?”

You arched a brow her way. “If you think someone is going to fix all your problems by marrying you, you’d be sorely mistaken. In fact, I’m nearly certain you’ll only have more troubling you once you get married.” 

Heat flushed her skin and she opened and closed her mouth in search of a response. None came to her. Instead, she leaned back in her chair with a sour pout to her rosy lips, going back to her stitching. 

“I just think it’d be nice, is all…” she mumbled. “I see my mother and father and how much they love each other and I just can’t help but want that for myself. I want to love someone like that.”

You hummed in understanding, dipping your eyes back down to your book. “I’m not opposed to marriage. If it happens, then it happens, but I won’t go and look for it because I’m happy as I am. I think there’s a wildly inaccurate expectation to love—it’s not all gallant knights on horses, or rescuing princesses from high towers. Love needn’t be a statement or a grand gesture, Sansa. Sometimes love is just there, and that’s enough.”

Sansa contemplated your words, screwing her lips together in thought. She certainly felt singled out, and she was rather embarrassed about her naivety about such a salient topic such as love. 

With one last shameful glance to you, she returned to working on her dress.

Snowflakes danced about her hair, a pristine white amongst the flame-hued strands. You kicked at the weightless frost with your boots, a laugh on the tip of your tongue. 

You were smiling so very wide, and Sansa couldn’t help but mirror your enthusiasm.

“Stop!” she squealed as she tried to trod away from you and your mischievous grin. “Don’t throw that at me—you’ll get my dress wet!”

Her pleads fell upon deaf ears, and you cocked your hand back, a loosely clumped ball of snow landing smack against her abdomen. 

Sansa would’ve been mad, at least she thinks she would’ve been, but the way you threw your head back in pure joy seemed to quell her initial anger—your gleeful disposition was highly contagious. After all, the snow would dry eventually. 

Without thinking, she scooped up some of the icy frost laying on top of the grass, chucking it in your direction. The snow splattered across your face and your expression faltered for a second. Sansa hesitated, wondering for a brief moment if she had crossed a line.

Then you smiled, and her worries melted away, like the snow on your heated face.

“I deserve that,” you said, stepping closer to her. The girl held her breath as you drew nearer, only inches away from her, and gently wiped a stray clump of snow on her cheek. Your fingers, surprisingly warm against the frigid skin of her jaw, moved down her face and cupped her chin. The blue of her irises darted from your own hooded eyes to your lips—she could feel her face reddening. 

Something tugged within her gut. She felt as if she was doing something wrong.

“You’ve got a twig in your hair,” Sansa pointed out, breath falling away from her lungs.

She couldn’t tell whether it was relief or disappointment that flooded over her once you stepped away to rifle through your already-messy hair, pulling out the cold stick with a chortle. 

“Come on,” you said, snapping her out of her reverie. “We mustn’t stay out too late—wouldn’t want Winterfell’s most spoiled little brat to catch a cold.”

Sansa would’ve been affronted that you called her spoiled (which she was, she just didn’t like you saying it), but the roguish smile you flashed her made her heart plummet straight to her stomach and she her shut her mouth tightly, afraid of what would come out if she opened them.

The fabric itched. 

After hours upon hours of sewing together the dress—she had finally worked herself into trying it on.

And it itched.

Sansa could already feel the tears welling up behind her eyes. Her throat felt swollen.

There was a knock at her door. She balled her fists up, before releasing a deep breath, hoping her face wouldn’t give away her telltale frustration.

It was your beaming, easy-going face that greeted her. Almost instantly, Sansa could feel herself relax. She pulled her bedroom door open wider to let you in, and you slid by her with a quick kiss to her cheek. You smelled of Winterfell’s forest—of home. 

If she wasn’t blushing up a storm before, she certainly was now. 

Only once you were inside, did she notice that you held a rather bountiful bunch of flowers in one of your hands. They were coiled together by the stems with a thin rope, tied into a neat bow. The flowers themselves, smelling wonderfully fresh, were a brilliant shade of lavender, the petals bulbous and elegant in nature. 

“What are those for?” she queried, clueless.

You rolled your eyes with a snort, before realizing that she was genuinely in the dark. “For you, love. Obviously, for you. I wouldn’t show up to your door with wrapped flowers and hand them to the next person I see.”

“They’re…” The words felt heavy on Sansa’s tongue. “They’re for me?”

“Of course.” You smiled toothily, and the ginger could feel her heart turning into sand—spilling through the gaps of her ribcage and making a mess all over the floor. “I found them during a walk—sprouted right through the harsh snows of Winterfell. Reminded me of you.”

Words like those should’ve made her happier beyond measure. 

Strangely, instead, they just made her want to cry more. But she wasn’t exactly sad, was she? Were they happy tears? 

Your jubilant expression began to falter as her shoulders began to shake, stifling small sobs. The flowers were gently placed by the edge of her mattress and you placed a hand on her forearm, pulling her closer. 

“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” you said to her as you pulled Sansa into a warm embrace. “Just know that I’m here to listen if you do.”

“You were right,” she sobbed, her tears spilling over her warm cheeks and onto your cold tunic. 

“I often am,” came your tentative reply, “but it usually doesn’t bring people to tears. What exactly was I right about?”

“Love needn’t be gallant knights on horses o-or grand gestures… it could just be this. It could just be you.”

Oh.

You thought about her words for a second longer.

Oh.

“Gods, Sansa, it took you long enough.”

She blinked at you with confused, watery doe-eyes. You gently cupped her face, brushing her tears away with the pads of your thumbs, then leaned forward to slant your lips over her heated forehead. 

“I love you. Ever since we were little children—I looked up at you and thought ‘Why, what a spoiled brat. I must simply become her best friend’. Which, transformed without me realizing over time, into romantic love.”

“Why didn’t… why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because!” you exclaimed, with a teasingly exhausted tone. “Because, for the longest time, love was only that to you. Love was a gallant knight or a prince of gold. I am neither of those. I am only me—and I didn’t think you’d ever be interested in the likes of me. Don’t you see, Sansa? I just wanted you to be happy.”

She could feel her heart splintering into two. “I know better now—I don’t need that kind of love anymore. I can be happy with you. Just you, and only you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

You regarded her with such affection that it was nearly catastrophic for her heart. “Sansa, my dear Sansa. Are you sure you’d be happy with me? With a love that is not loud, as you used to want it to be? Would it truly be enough for you?”

“Yes,” she replied, winding her fingers through yours and holding them up to her chest. “Yes, that would be enough.”

And she kissed you. It was sweet and chaste, and tasted of raspberries. She ached for more.

“If it’s enough for the spoiled brat, then that’s more than enough for me,” you whispered against her lips, before grinning like a fool and kissing her once again.

#sansa stark x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #sansa stark fanfiction #got fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #sansa stark fanfic #sansa stark x gn!reader #sansa stark fluff #sansa stark angst #sansa stark imagines #sansa stark drabbles

[welldonebeca]

The Finger Situation

Summary: Jon catches Sansa masturbating and gives her a hand. Pairing: Jonsa Warnings: Porn watch. Masturbation. Dirty talk. Smut. 

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Keeping Up With the Targaryens - Masterlist 

Sansa pulled the curtains of the little guest room she'd been stored in.

Robb was out with his girlfriend, Jon was off with Theon and she finally - finally - had their house to herself.

After the Joffrey mess and the stress of trying to get into UNI, she deserved this break.

Their home was always so busy, she never had a single moment to herself! Everyone was always all around, the walls were paper thin, and maybe father was the only one in her family who actively respected a closed door.

Coming to stay with them for a few weeks was bliss.

It wasn't all easy - she still had to deal with Jon, which was pretty much like having Arya - but being with the boys meant she had a little bit of freedom.

Still, Robb wasn't living alone, but with his best friends, Jon and Theon. A pair of pricks who were always all around her house growing up.

Theon was pretty crude, although he tried to be respectable when her parents were around and teased Sansa a bit less when she threatened to tattle on him. But Jon was different.

He was Robb’s best friend since, like… forever,

He was too hot for his own good, and an emo prick.

Well... not emo.

But he always wore black and always looked like he was sulking on some bad feeling no one could see, all pouty.

It was way worse when they were younger. Jon was always a loner - especially in contrast with Sansa, who was prom queen twice! - but he had grown out of his awkwardness, and was...

Nice.

Charming.

And he knew it, he fucking had to know.

Jon would walk around without his shirt, have his hair all pretty around his face and pout when she was looking at him, all fucking stupid!

So maybe she had an itsy bitsy tiny little small crush on him.

And what was the big deal?

As long as he didn't know it was alright.

All Sansa had to do was get it out of her system!

And now she finally had time and the house for herself.

Back home, getting off really was always the same thing. A little clit rubbing, a few open bookmarks, a pillow on her mouth to muffle any sound, and that was it.

But she wasn't home. And she was all alone.

Sansa sat on her bed all naked and pulled up a video on how to actually do it right.

Get herself off, of course.

It wasn't like she could have a toy for herself or anything, it was just herself. And now was the best moment to do it, because when else would she have the chance?

The video was simple enough. A woman with her legs all spread, her bald pussy in full view, but instead of her own hand, it was another. Bigger. Veinier.

A man's hand.

Well... she could still follow along.

So, she placed the phone on the desk by the side of her bed, and then lied down, turning her head to the side to watch it.

"First, you spread her," the man hummed, voice deep and slow with a very distant accent to it. "You see how my sweet girl is all wet? Glistening?"

Sansa nodded. Yes, she was very wet.

"She gets like this when I kiss her silly," he purred, sounding proud. "And I've made it very special today because she wanted to be part of this little tutorial so badly."

The woman giggled.

"Now, you must know," he continued. "You have to be sweet with your girl. Kiss her and play with her... I pinch and play with her nipples to make her like this... of course, you can always do this..."

He moved his fingers to her cunt, spreading her folds, touching her around her clit and then on it, rubbing it slowly, and Sansa followed obediently.

"This will always, always make her all wet," he affirmed. "Every girl... well, everyone with a clit, but let's focus our language here. Every girl has a sensitive clit, but you have to touch it the way they like it. Some feel a little more sensitive on a special side, some can't have direct stimulation... my sweet girl here can't cum if I play with the left side because it's not sensitive enough. It's the perfect edging partner."

To prove it, he moved his finger to circle just the said side of her clit, and the girl squirmed.

"See how she drools?" he hummed. "You want her very, very wet, very sloppy."

Sansa squirmed.

Sloppy. Stupid word.

Stupid word that made her all stupid wet.

"Once she is like this, and only once she is like this, you can put your finger in," he instructed. "Slowly, very gently. Let her relax and accept it."

Sansa moved around to get her finger in, and huffed at the stretch.

Oh, no one told her that fingering herself was an ab workout!

Maybe that was why the girl wasn't touching herself on camera. She would have to be very bendy to look sexy while doing it.

Still, Sansa tried her best, and if felt better than she thought it would.

It did. It really did.

Her finger was touching some place she really hadn't touched before - even when she had actually tried a while ago.

It was new, it was good, and it was hard to do.

"Now pull slowly," the man commanded. "And push... fuck her slowly, give her time."

She complied and whined in pleasure at the same time the woman let out a very little sound.

"You'll know she is enjoying it when you feel her cunt fluttering your finger... my pretty girl here will moan sweetly, but some girls are shy. You really need to coax the moans out of their lips."

Sansa wasn't shy. Well, she was, but she was home alone, and it felt so stupidly good, she wasn't even caring about being quiet.

"Don't give her more than she can fit," he instructed. "Especially if she hasn't taken any cock before."

Sansa squirmed.

"Sweet little virgins need time," he cooed.

Suddenly, her door opened.

"Sansa, are you-"

"Oh my God!" she screamed, reaching for the sheets.

Jon stopped, frozen by the door.

"Get out!" she screamed, trying to cover herself up.

He didn't fucking move.

She was going to die. That was it.

Sansa was going to die by embarrassment.

The woman moaned randomly from her phone, and she felt her whole face and neck just burning deeply.

"Curl your fingers," the man instructed. "Just like that, good girl."

She pulled the sheets up, covering her face with the thick covers.

"Sansa," he spoke slowly.

The sounds of the video stopped.

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost accusatory.

“None of your business!” she screeched.

This was just like one of their arguments back home. So childish!

"Sansa..." he stepped closer.

She covered her head, not wanting to be seen.

"Can you just leave?" she begged. "And put my phone now. Please."

She wasn't in the mood nor had the patience to fight with him now.

"What are you watching?" he asked.

Sansa didn't answer, and she could see him sitting on her bed.

"How to finger a pussy," he read the title. "By... dragonrider?"

She whined, closing her eyes.

"Jon, please," she begged. "Just let that go."

Great, now he was going to rub that on her face.

He moved, but instead of leaving her, he closed her door and walked back to her bed, sitting down.

"Don't you know how to finger yourself?" he asked, voice too casual for the question he was asking her.

She covered her face with a hand.

"Jon..."

"I'm just asking," he shrugged. "You're 18 now."

"I've never done that before!" she huffed. "I'm not like Theon."

He didn't move.

"So you're a virgin?"

"No," she stomped her foot. "I dated, remember? Harry? I started dating before you even had a girlfriend!"

Jon scoffed sounding.

"So you had a boyfriend, and he never fingered you?" he asked. "He must not have been good enough, then. I fingered Ygritte good before I even knew what I was doing."

She rolled her eyes.

"I make her cum," he told her. "I did all the time. Did your sweet Harry do that for you?"

Sansa just pouted, uncovering her head to glare at him.

"Haha," she rolled her eyes. "Is that all you meant to do? Rub it on my face how you could make your girlfriend cum and how I have to get myself off if I want it?"

He shrugged, and she crossed her arms.

"We didn't... do that," she huffed. "Just so you know."

Jon looked at her, unaffected by her state.

"So you are still a virgin?" he asked.

She looked away from him, burning red, and just wanted to yell at him, but Jon shrugged, very comfortable on her bed.

"I'm not making fun of you," he assured her. "But you shouldn't learn how to pleasure yourself with porn. That's doomed to fail."

Sansa rolled her eyes.

"I know how to pleasure myself!" she argued. "I just... I didn't know how to finger myself. It's different."

Jon looked back at her and sighed.

Shamelessly, he tapped on the bed with his hand.

"Come here," he instructed her. "You're not gonna learn from a video."

Sansa eyed him suspiciously, but walked to the bed anyway, holding her sheets close to her body before sitting down by his side.

"Well, what do you suggest?" she pouted. "That I read an article?"

He straight up chuckled, and then looked at her, licking his lips, and his eyes were tainted with something more.

"You need a teacher to help you. Show you," he said simply, leaning closer to her. "I could be your teacher."

Her whole face burned, and her eyes widened in shock.

"Jon..."

He leaned closer to her.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered.

But she shook her head.

"Please," Sansa exhaled. "Don't."

He kissed her, and she was eager to take it and kiss him back, and just let him when he moved his hand to her blanket and pulled it off before pulling her closer by her waist.

She understood now, what it meant, to be kissed silly and made wet and needy.

Harry and Joffrey had never kissed her like that.

Slowly, as if not to startle her, Jon moved her, laying her on the back and climbing up and up until her head was on her pillow, and his hand moved slowly to between her legs, caressing her knee and her thigh.

She gasped when he pushed a single finger into her easily. His finger was too thick, almost like two of hers, but he was so delicate it didn't even hurt.

"So warm, Sansa," he whispered, biting her lower lip. "You got yourself all wet, didn't you?"

She nodded, whining a little.

"Poor girl," he cooed. "Never had a boyfriend nice enough to show you how good-"

He curled his finger and she gasped when she felt him brushing against a sensitive pot in her.

"-it can be to have a finger in her cunt."

"Was too scared," she whimpered.

Jon sighed, shaking his head.

"Poor, poor girl," he hummed, kissing her neck.

He moved down slowly, and she gasped when she felt him kissing her chest, licking her nipple before sucking it into his lips, pulling his finger out and pushing it back into her.

"Look at you," he cooed, letting it go. "Those tiny little tits..."

Sansa whined, though arching her chest to him.

Her tits weren't tiny!

They were just a little small.

"Do you think I could suck fit one whole into my mouth?" he looked at her. "Think your little tit can fit all into my lips while I finger your virgin cunt?"

His words, dear Lord...

Suddenly, Jon moved to his statement, spreading his lips, and she gasped when his teeth grazed against the top and bottom of her breast, and she moaned when he sucked it all into his lips.

Sansa arched her hips, and moaned loudly when he slipped a second finger into her.

"Jon," she grabbed his hair, not knowing what to even do with her hands.

His hair was so nice, soft and curly and pretty.

"Sweet little Sansa," he moved back, kissing her skin slowly to her other breast. "Squeezing me sweetly on your cunt."

She arched her hips to him, needy.

"Jon," she moaned.

"Feels good, sweet Sansa?" he licked the underside of her breast. "To have my fingers in your cunt?"

She nodded, ad tried to get closer to his hand when he pulled away slowly, fucking her with his palm far, far away from her.

"Please, Jon," she pleaded. "My clit."

Jon hummed a little.

"I don't know, Sansa," he curled his fingers, tickling her sensitive walls and she moaned. "You only asked me to finger you, and I am fingering you."

She whined, raising her hips, trying to chase him.

"I can't cum like this!" she argued. "Please, Jon."

"You're right," he used a hand to spread her legs more. "You can't, right? It doesn't matter how much I finger your sweet cunt and don't play with your clit, I'll only be edging you."

And he kept fingering her as if he hadn't heard his own words.

"Jon," she protested.

He moved back to look at her, and she could finally see it in his eyes.

"Yes, sweet girl?"

"Please," she pleaded with him. "Please, play with my clit? Please?"

Jon licked his lips.

"And why would I do that?" he teased her, his voice and face mocking her.

Sansa just wanted to smack that smug look out of his face.

"Cause you're good?" she tried to argue. "A good lover?"

He just moved faster, and she could hear the sounds of her cunt taking his fingers, already feeling herself all infected with arousal.

"That is true," he agreed. "But I like being mean to you so, so much."

Jon pulled his fingers again, and she was about to protest when he just grabbed her and manhandled her to lay on her stomach and raise her ass, pushing now what felt like three fingers into her.

"And I think you like it too, don't you, sweet girl," he cooed.

Sansa moaned, half her face smashed on her pillow.

"Fuck, Jon," she yelped.

He fucked her fast, rough and with no mercy.

"Yes, Sansa?" he asked.

He changed the motion of his fingers out of a sudden, and she cried out when he touched something especially sensitive in her.

"Jon!" she screamed.

"Stupid sweet Sansa," he slapped her ass. "Look at your cunt. So sloppy."

Her pussy squeezed around his fingers more.

That word, that stupid word.

She could cum right now. Just a little rub, and she would cum.

"Please," she cried on the bed. "Please, I need to cum, please."

She felt him before she realised he had moved. His tongue on her cunt, around her hole, just taking her wetness.

"Please," she cried, trembling already. "I need- please."

And then, suddenly, he wrapped his lips around her clit, fucking her hard with his fingers and sucking her in a never-ending grasp.

And Sansa came.

Loud, shaking and crying.

"There you go," he hummed, tongue licking her clit softly. "Was this what you needed, Sansa?"

"Yes," she cried.

He continued to move his fingers.

"How do you say, then, sweet girl?" he asked.

Sansa whined into her pillow, sensitive.

"Thank you," she moved her hips. "Thank you, Jon, thank you, thank you."

He pulled his fingers away, and she was about to turn around when his tongue moved a little more daringly, licking her cunt clean, licking and tasting her up hungrily.

Sansa was shaking and moaning, oversensitive and overwhelmed.

Before she could cum again - or beg to cum - the sound of the door opening made her stop, and Jon stopped quickly.

"Guys?" Robb called. "We're home."

She gasped, but Jon moved quicker than she could think.

"We can finish this when we have privacy, sweet girl," he caressed her ass.

He left, and she watched him go, panting.

Oh, they sure would.

. . .

"The Fingers Situation" was posted in my Patreon in the 12th of January. To read its sequel "The TV Show" before anyone else, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and I post every day.

. . .

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#jonsa #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa smut #jonsa fluff #jonsa series #jon snow #jon snow fanfiction #jonsa fic #jon snow smut #sansa stark #sansa stark fanfiction #sansa stark fanfic #sansa stark fic #sansa stark smut #jon snow x sansa stark #jon snow x sansa stark fanfic #jon snow x sansa stark smut #keeping up with the targaryens series

[lazuli-writes]

Aloha mai kākou 🩵 welcome to my (@little-lazuli) writing blog where I’ll be posting my written works. You can also find my works here on ao3 if you wish :) but here is a quick masterlist of all of my current works.

Thank you @cafekitsune for the beautiful text dividers. Please take a minute of your day to visit their blog and enjoy their beautiful works.

I currently write for select K-pop groups, Harry Potter and Asoiaf. I do not currently take requests or commissions, but if you any asks pertaining to any of my works, please feel free to ask.

Also please be wary as my screen reader setting is my current beta reader. That being said, mahalo nui loa and enjoy 🩶

kpop

Hell: [angst/apocalypse au] San has a nightmare about his biggest regret.

Alone: [angst-ish/thriller] Hongjoong has an epiphany after a call from a sick Jongho.

Intruder: [angst/comfort-ish] part 2 of Alone — There’s an intruder in the Ateez Dorm.

Wake: [angst-ish/hopeful] Jun is the only one who can handle seeing Vernon in the hospital.

Leave: [angst/sci-fi] Donghyuck finds himself in over his head after traversing space and time.

Cosmetology: [domestic/apocalypse au] Donghyuck has a crush on someone who confuses stars and makeup.

Dream: [domestic/spy au] Jeonghan sings to his son.

Brutal: [domestic/spy au] Jeonghan hates the avengers.

Sing: [angst/vampire au] Taeyong sings to his son.

Starlight: [angst/cosmic au] Yunho was your favorite love game.

Heaven: [domestic/slice-of-life] Xiaojun riding a harley in Hawaiʻi.

Esta Noche: [suggestive/song fic] You meet Chanyeol at a small pub

Sighs: [smut/pwp] San scolds his duckie

a song of ice and fire

What if series: [a series of useless rants and rambles on different possible possibilities]

What if Benjen Stark married?

What if the Sarnori migrated?

What if Jon Snow didn’t join the Night’s Watch?

What if Joffrey Waters was a hero?

Pragmatic: [hopeful/slice-of-life-in-westeros] Sansa makes her escape from that wretched city for a second time.

harry potter

Hiraeth Series: [angst/slice-of-life-for-a-slytherin] Several perspectives of Ron’s life after being sorted into Slytherin. This series was inspired by some of my favorite ron-centric fics: @chuchiotaku’s “There and Back Again” and TheTrueSpartan’s “Fate”

Son: [angst/molly weasley pov] Molly cannot blame anyone else but herself, her son was gone.

Spark: [fluff-young love/ron weasley pov] Ron’s first spark of love with Daphne ignites before a reflection.

Survivor: [teen angst/slice-of-life-for-a-slytherin/ron weasley pov] Ron purchases his very own wand, a survivor’s wand.

Outtakes - Character Profile: Ronald: Character Profile of Ronald Bilius Greengrass née Weasley

Honour: [slice-of-life-for-a-slytherin] Muriel reads Ron’s letter he left before going to restore his honour.

Verdict: [hurt & comfort/daphne greengrass pov] Daphne awaits Ron’s verdict at his trial for being a death eater.

Outtakes - 100 Headcanons: 100 headcanons for Ron after being sorted into Slytherin.

Outtakes - 100 More Headcanons: 100 more headcanons for Ron after being sorted into Slytherin.

Outtakes - Unfinished Moments: Unfinished memories from a pensieve; with moments from Tracey, Astoria, Muriel and Theodore.

Outtakes - 25 Quotes from the Silver Quartet: 25 random quotes from each member of the Silver Quartet.

The Vanishing Series: Under the threat of defeat, the supporters of the dark lord cast a curse that banishes half of the Wizarding population of the British Isles.

Intro i

Intro ii

Opulence: [fluff/slice-of-life] Fred has a question for Roland (oc).

Sunshine and Rainbows: [angst] Fred has some choice words for Roland (oc).

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, translate without permission.

And please note: I do not give any permission to consumers to feed my works to ai. I repeat, I do not give any permission to consumers to feed my works to ai. Let it be known.

#lazuli writes #masterlist #nct fanfiction #nct angst #nct fluff #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #asoiaf fanfiction #benjen stark fanfiction #jon snow fanfiction #sansa stark fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley angst #slytherin ron weasley #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction

[justmymindandstuff]

Knights and Heros- Sansa Stark and Robb Stark

Summary: Sansa prays that Robb comes and safes her. Every night before she goes to bed, she sends a prayer to the gods asking that Robb save her. He should kill the lions, each one of them and finally free Sansa. Her big brother is supposed to save her. He has to save her.

Words: 2.604

Warnings: Violence, Death

English is not my first Language, no beta all mistakes are mine. // GIFs not mine // Have fun :) // AO3//

Every night before she went to bed, Sansa prays. To the old gods. To the new gods. To every god she has ever heard of. She prays for heir family and she prays for Robb to come. That her big brother wins the war and comes to save her. She knows it is wrong, but she also prays that Robb will come and brings her Joffrey´s head. After her prayers Sansa lies down in her bed, the sheets are warm and comfortable but Sansa feels cold and uneasy. She misses her bed in Winterfell. She tosses and turns and eventually manages to fall asleep.

Sansa hears the calls and screams. They slowly creep through the veil of sleep into her consciousness. But only the slamming of the opening door makes her fully awaken. She jolts up in her bed and stares into the guard's face. She reaches for the blanket to cover herself a little more. Fear rises within her. What's happening? Has Cersei finally decided to kill her? Sansa looks around, if this man is going to kill her fine! But not without a fight. Unfortunately she has no weapon, only her needles are within reach, but what can a needle do against a knight? The next moment Shae pushes past the guard.

"Gods, you're scaring the hell out of that girl." she snaps. Sansa's maid has always had a harsh manner, but now she's happy to see it.

"What happens?" she asks, trying to ignore the soldier in the doorway. She can still hear loud voices.

"We are under attack."

"Attack?" Sanas asks confused, so suddenly? She doesn't know how the war is going, but if the armies were that close to King's Landing she would have heard.

"Come get dressed. And you wait outside." Shae practically pushes the soldier out of the room. Sansa jumps out of bed and quickly puts on a dress, Shae helps her and hands her a coat. She still doesn't know who is attacking. Stannis? Or maybe... she dared not hope so. She prayed for it for so long. Can it really be? Shae and Sansa leave the chambers, there is chaos in the hallway. Guards and knights run around, and with a quick glance out the window, Sansa sees fire, soldiers, and horses in the city beneath Red Keep. She can hear the sounds of battle from up here. How could the soldiers get through the gates so quickly? Why was there no siege?

"Who's attacking?" Sansa asks. "And how did they get into the city walls so quickly?"

"They were already in town." It's not Shae who answers, but Sansa's husband Tyrion. He hobbles towards them on his short legs. He wears gold armor and a helmet. Behind him is Bronn, the sellsword. "We underestimated your brother again." At his words, Sansa's heart jumps and her knees go weak, she almost collapses, but she manages to keep herself upright. Robb is here. Robb and his armies are here. He came to save her. "He's probably been smuggling soldiers into the city for weeks."

"Careful. Almost sounds like you admire him." Bronn says with a malicious tone at Tyrion's words.

"I can recognize the intelligence of my enemies." Tyrion says and then looks at Sansa. She can't read his eyes, doesn't know what's going on in his head. But she manages to keep her expression impassive, if she showed even a hint of joy she would die instantly. But Tyrion says nothing and turns back to Bronn. "Cersei wants Sansa with her, as a hostage. Get her to safety." Sansa looks at him confused. What? Why is he doing that? Why does he help her instead of his family? He takes a few steps towards her and takes her hand. Tyrion has to tilt his head back to look at her. "I know what you think of me, Sansa. My family has harm your family. But you are my wife! Whether you like it or not and I will not let my sister kill you. I will go into battle now. And if the gods are kind, we'll see each other again, no matter how this turns out today." he looks at her with a steady gaze and Sansa is touched by his words. She hates him. She hates his family. But Tyrion has been nice and good to her, so she nods and squeezes his hand.

"I pray for your survival." she says and she means it. At the same time, she hopes he loses. He has to lose! Tyrion looks at Shae and smiles, tears appearing in her eyes, but without a word the gnome turns away and runs down the hallway.

"Come." Bronn's grip on her arm is tight, and when he pulls her the other way, she wants to break free and run away. Nevertheless, she follows him. Cersei wants her dead or taken hostage to force Robb to surrender. Robb! Robb is here to save her. He tricked the lions to save her. Finally. Finally her big brother comes to free her. The Red Keep has descended into chaos. Nobody expected an attack. Nobody was prepared for an attack. Bronn leads Shae and Sansa through the halls, servants, maids, squires, guards, knights, ladies and maidens running past them. Everyone shouts around. As she walks past, Sansa sees soldiers fighting in the courtyard. Lannister red cloaks, glittering swords, blood and in the light of the fire Sansa recognizes the direwolf on the breastplates of the attackers. She would have liked to burst into tears of joy.

"Where do we go?" she asks Bronn. He seems to be sure of his aim.

"I'll take you out of the keep."

"And then?" she ask him.

"I'll wait for further orders."

"What if the orders don't come?" Would Bronn kill her if Tyrion died?

"I don't care who wins. Whether it's the Lannisters or your brother. Either one of them will pay me for you." His words were meant to scare her. A few years ago they would have scared her. But that was before her father was murdered, before she had to suffer at the hands of Cersei and Joffrey. Now Sansa understands a truth so far removed from the stories she grew up with that a cold shiver runs down her spine. There are no noble knights and heroes. But with Bronn she's safe. Not because it's the right thing to do. Not because she's a damsel in distress. Not because Bronn is a hero. Because he gets paid. And he doesn't care who pays him. They turn corners, run up stairs, through doors, corridors and halls. Sansa has been living in the Red Keep for so long but she hasn't seen everything yet. The castle is still strange to her. The noise of the battle gets louder, the screams get louder and as Sansa comes around the next corner she almost trips over a corpse. She has seen dead people, too many dead people. It started with the butcher boy, Myko or something like that. Sansa doesn't know his name. Her father was murdered in front of her eyes. Joffrey killed her septa, the men from her family's household. Every time the sight of a dead body made her sick. But not this time. This time a Lannister soldier lies before her in his blood and Sansa feels joy. The gods will hate her for it, but Sansa doesn't care about that. Not at this moment. A dead Lannister soldier means her brother's men are close by. She just has to make it to them, she's almost there and then she'll be safe. As they turn another corner, Bronn stops.

"Fuck!" he curses. Sansa looks past him. In the hallway in front of them stands a tall man in Lannister armor. The Mountain, Gregor Clegane. Bronn looks at Sansa and then back at the mountain, which is striding towards them. Then he sighs. "Damned." and draws his sword. Sansa doesn't know where to go. There is no way out. Back? Take a different direction? The mountain would follow them. She hears swords crashing into one another, as Bronn starts fighting. He wouldn't survive that, Sansa knows. And then the mountain would hunt her down and drag her to Cersei. The Dowager Queen would want to watch Sansa die. Sansa knows nothing about fighting. She attended tournaments, admired Ser Loras when he took on the mountain and won. Back then she thought the knight was like in her stories and songs. And Ser Loras almost died at the hands of the mountain,if the Hound hadn't intervened. But the Hound is not here. He disappeared after the Battle of Blackwater Bay and no one has seen him since. Bronn would die now and Sansa can't do anything. She can only watch as Bronn retreats further and further under the sword blows. He tries to avoid it, dances around this monster. His sword raised, try to parry attacks and strike himself. But Gregor Clegane is too strong. He strikes, Bronn stumbles and the sword hits him. The thin armor made of leather and steel doesn't protect him and Bronn falls to his knees, groaning. Sansa thought she was going to die a thousand times. When Joffrey called for her father's head, when he beat her in the throne room, when he tormented her. But now she's sure. Today she would die. The Mountain pulls his sword from Bronn's body, blood drips onto the ground and he looks at Sansa. She can only see his eyes through his helmet, but they are cold and devoid of compassion. He takes a step forward, then stops and flinches. Spitting blood. His eyes widen and Sansa sees the tip of a sword protruding from his neck. The blade retracts, blood running from the wound and dripping onto the gold breastplate. Sansa watches the red run over the Lannister lion. Her lips parted in a silent scream. Her body becomes numb. She was so sure that she would die at the hands of this man.

Gregor Clegane falls to his knees. The mountain falls, stabbed from behind. The shock goes through her body. Tears form in Sansa's eyes and she blinks two or three times to be able to see clearly again. A dull sound echoes to her ears as the lifeless body hits the ground. Sana's gaze clears and she looks into a pair of blue eyes. She knows these eyes, she has looked into these eyes a thousand times. Robb lowers his sword, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. His armor is covered in dirt and blood. He stabbed the mountain. Pierced his throat from behind. There was nothing honorable about this death. But Sansa doesn't think about honor. She doesn't think about the noise of battle around her, or about the men dying.

"Sansa." his voice is just a whisper, but to her it sounds like the most beautiful song. It's been so long since she heard her name come from his lips. Back in Winterfell on the day they left. Back then his voice was brighter, his face younger, innocent, happy. There's something hard about his face now, his cheeks covered in a beard, his shoulders broad beneath his bloodstained armor. Still, his eyes are the same. A sob erupts from her throat, relief flooding through her body. Her knees are shaking, but she manages to move. First one step in front of the others and suddenly she's running. The next moment she is crying in her brother's arms.

"Robb. You're here." she sobs. He hugs her tight, as if he never wants to let her go again. Sansa doesn't care that blood and dirt ruin her dress, she doesn't care that he smells of sweat, blood and death. He came to her. He is here to save her. He's finally here to take her home.

"I am here." Robb says in her ear, rocking her slightly back and forth and she feels his tears on her cheek, mingling with her own. She holds him closer to her, can't believe it's really happening. She is saved. Robb stands in front of her, her big brother, her hero. As in a song, he came with his noble knights to save her from the clutches of the lions. She kisses his cheeks and his forehead, wipes his tears from his cheeks and sobs. She wants to say so many things, but no words come out of her mouth. He smiles at her, pushes her a little away and examines her. "You've grown up sister." He says laughing and kissing her forehead. "I'll take you home." Sansa nods and beams. She has never been so happy in her life. Her personal knight has come and saves her. Finally the nightmare her life has turned into is over. She can finally go home to the familiar halls of Winterfell. To her brother, to her mother, to her sister. She will finally be with her family again. And it's all thanks to Robb. He tricked the lions and attacked them in their own territory. "Everything will be okay, Sansa. You're safe. I promise." Robb smiles down at her, but suddenly he flinches and grimaces. Sansa looks at him confused. What's happening? His gaze becomes distant, his grip weak. Suddenly he is no longer standing in front of her in his armor, but in a black robe, blood from invisible injuries running from his shoulder, his side and his chest. "Mother." he whispers in a hollow voice and falls to his knees in front of Sansa.

She screams in shock and the next moment she is sitting in her bed. Cold sweat runs down her forehead and she lets out a frightened sob. She feels hot tears running down her cheeks, her whole body is shaking. A dream. She just dreamed it all. The feeling of relief and joy that she was feeling just now has long been forgotten. Why do the gods torture her so much? Her room in Kings Landing is already lit by the sun. Sansa is too upset to sleep again anyway. She wipes away the tears, but more keep coming. She longs to go back to her dream. It felt so real. She longs to return to her brother's embrace. Back to her hero. Nevertheless, she gets up and starts to dress, when Shae arrives she is already finished.

"My Lady." Shea's voice shakes, which makes Sansa suspicious.

"What happened?" she asks directly. The maid is not someone easily unsettled. Why is her voice shaking? Shea sighs, hesitates. "Tell me!" Sansa insists.

"Last night. Your uncle Edmure married a Frey girl on the Twins. Lord Frey broke the hospitality law and killed your brother and mother." Shae's voice sounds sympathetic, but Sansa doesn't care at this moment. It takes her a moment to understand her words. Her knees go weak again and this time she doesn´t try to keep standing. She collapses to the floor, an unbelievable pain wracks her chest and a sob erupts from her throat. Sansa feels her whole world collapse. Her brother and mother murdered. Sansa thinks back to her dream, to the way Robb collapsed in front of her. She saw it. Saw his death. Another sob. The gods must really hate her. Her beloved mother dead. Her beloved brother dead. All hope leaves Sansa. Robb wouldn't come to save her. He is dead. Her hero is dead. Hope is dead. Sansa is sure she will die too. Her knight will never come and save her.

inspo.

#sansa stark #sansa Stark fanfiction #starks #robb stark #got #game of thrones #asoif/got #asoif fanfic #house stark #got fanfiction #red wedding #a song of ice and fire

[mkstrigidae]

Unwillingly thrust into a realm full of beauty and danger, filled with beings who aren't supposed to exist, Sansa is exhausted, terrified, and desperate to return home. But with the secret of her heritage- heritage she hadn't even known about- revealed, these immortals aren't about to let her leave. Not when she holds something they want. Something valuable. Something in her very blood.

-

“Can’t we get the police involved?” Bran pleaded. “Get someone else to help find her?” “I wish we could.” She told him, reaching out to squeeze his brother’s hand. “Well why the hell can’t we?” Rickon snarled, his fists clenched so tight around his mug that Robb was amazed the cheap ceramic hadn’t shattered yet. “Because, right now, Sansa isn’t in this world.” Brienne wearily admitted.

Chapter 2: Salt and Steam

Sansa wakes up, alone, horribly injured, and stranded in a strange environment, desperately trying to figure out where she is, amidst the slick, black stone. While she tries to find her way out, someone- or something- else finds her first.

#my writing #jonsa fic #jonsa fanfiction #sansa stark fanfiction #sansa stark centric #as usual #jon snow x sansa stark #jon x sansa #fanfiction #got fanfiction #asoiaf fanfiction #got fanfic #asoiaf fanfic #jonsa fanfic #The Immortals #honorificabilitudinitatibus #for those of you who (amusingly) ask #it's very easy for me to remember my ao3 username LMAO #it's been a writer's block week #so it's amazing i'm getting anything done

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Sansa Stark Masterlist

To join my taglist

Kinktober 2023-2024

Requests: Closed

Sansa Stark:

Aesthetic:

One Shots:

Requests:

#game of thrones smut #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones oc #game of thrones au #game of thrones one shot #game of thrones x reader #sansa stark #sans au #sansa stark imagine #sansa stark fanfic #sansa stark one shot #sansa stark smut #sansa stark fanfiction #masterlist #valaenatargaryensdragon

[llonelygoddess]

Yandere House Stark Headcanons

A/N: I ended up not doing Bran and Rickon only because I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later and they were a little difficult to write for. If you'd like to see headcanons for them I can definitely make another post for them, just let me know.

Let's say you are a low born person looking for refuge in Winterfell after your village was sacked by Wildlings. You had hoped to find some tavern to hold up in or even a brothel, but unbeknownst to you the Stark family kept an eye on newcomers. When they received news of your arrival, they requested your presence. It was only to talk about the possibility of nearby Wildlings, but when YOU showed up beaten and scared for your life- how could they not offer their Stark hospitality?

This is where the yandere tendencies begin.

Ned Stark, as a yandere, is protective and definitely has a savior complex. He's an honorable and just man that can't help but bring home strays, so when he sees you it's like finding Jon all over again. A deep sense of responsibility comes over him and he knows in that moment that you are just as much his as any of his kids. From that day forward he assigns a room for you in the castle and a handmaiden to keep you company, not that you'll be needing it. The family of course is shocked at his sudden interest, but they all love to see him happy and nothing makes him more happy than seeing you taken care of.

Now Catelyn is initially worried that Ned has taken a romantic interest in you, but when she sees the way you both interact she understands the fatherly bond he is trying to create very similar to his own kids. It didn't take long for her to fall into her own yandere tendencies; checking in on you in the mornings, making prayer wheels even when you're not sick, helping in the kitchen to make sure your food was perfect ( and not poisoned). She takes her role as your surrogate mother very seriously,sometimes to the extent of watching you sleep or ordering guards to discreetly watch over you and report back. Her biggest worry is that you'll be taken away from them so she takes extra precautions to keep you safe.

Robb is head over heels for you instantly. Man is down bad. Much like his father, Robb has a savior complex and finds himself wanting to be YOUR savior always. He does this by training extra hard with Jon, keeping an eye on you at all times, and giving threatening looks to any man or woman who gets too close to you. He doesn’t mean to scare away any potential friends but he does mean to scare away potential lovers. He couldn’t bear to see you with anyone outside the family, and even then he has a sword up his butt about it. 

On the other hand, Jon takes a while to warm up to you. He loves his family and is vicious to outsiders who could harm them. Eventually, seeing how you interact with everyone makes him a tad jealous. Not of you, but of his family and how easily they can approach you. I definitely see Jon as an overprotective/stalker yandere with strong jealous tendencies that make him beg for your approval. He finds himself wherever you are, lurking in the background, waiting for the right moment to catch you alone. Jon feels like himself around you and the more time you spend together the more addicted to your presence he becomes. 

Theon is hands down THE worshiper of the group. It's a hot take for sure but as a yandere, I see Theon's insecurities and fears taking over, slightly similar to reek!Theon. He sees you as a deity, above the Lords and Ladies, even above the King/Queen themself. If it were up to him he'd be the one giving you your meals, running your baths, standing by your side as guard. He cherishes your very presence and hopes one day you'll see his never ending loyalty to you and only you. 

Sansa is very quiet about her obsession, you almost couldn't tell. She's the perfect friend, always sitting next to you at meals, gossiping about the Lords and Lady's of court, and helping you stock your wardrobe. Whatever hobby you choose to pick up, she's always there to praise you in your efforts and guide you in whatever way she can. She especially loves teaching you how to embroider as it's her specialty. It was all but normal until you came upon her private journal filled with both your names in beautiful cursive surrounded by hearts. You begin to notice the closeness she silently demands, eyeing everyone else to stay away. You see the way she longingly watches you from afar when you choose to spend time with anyone else. And your dresses, that you both so carefully picked out, seem to have a little embroidered "SS" on the nape of your neck.

Arya sees you as her golden older sibling, the one who can do no wrong. She is constantly dragging you around Winterfell - riding horses and trying to shoot arrows (and failing lol). She finds comfort within you, the only person who doesn't expect anything of her except to be herself. And for that she will never leave your side. Most nights you'll find her trying to sneak into your room to share a bed, but whether she can get past the guards Ned and Catelyn have posted outside your door is another story.

#female yandere #soft yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere game of thrones #yandere male #platonic yandere #yandere got #jon snow x reader #ned stark x reader #theon greyjoy x reader #robb stark x reader #yandere robb stark #sansa stark x reader #yandere arya stark #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones preferences #got #a song of ice and fire #yandere house stark

[zoesongs]

A new installment of “Always a Stark”: Confrontation

What should have happened when Sansa received the raven from Petyr asking to meet in Mole’s Town in Season 6 Episode 5.

#sansa stark fanfiction #sansa stark & jon snow #sansa stark & brienne of tarth #sansa stark & petyr baelish #always a stark

[haraways]

I think ill be posting the last chapter of A wonderful violence  tomorrow or the day after since Sansa month in coming to a close. If you wanna give a read here is the summery and link.

“Fear nothing, Shea. My blood has long met the earth and only good things will grow.”

The Bolton's who broke faith with their King would pay. Those who follow them would pay, every house in the North if need be. They swore an oath before the Old Gods and they would pay for the treachery. Justice was demanded.

The Gods Remembered all who broke faith and they demand bloody retribution. And Sansa would deliver it.

#sansa stark #got fanfiction #sansa stark fanfiction #sansa stark-centric

[azulolivart]

❤️‍🔥Just two beings kissed by fire❤️‍🔥

I am literally obsessed with this scene, and with them. I feel that it is an important moment that represents a lesson for both the characters involved and the reader.

In the books, Sansa teaches Sandor a lesson with her song. Violence is not the way. Things are not taken by force. Even people like him, whose life is full of resentment and anger, have a chance to redeem themselves.

In the TV show, it is Sandor who teaches Sansa a lesson. Looks are deceiving. She is afraid of him because of how he looks and is unable to look at him but he tells her, in his own way, that she will encounter people in life much worse than him and that she will have to look at them. In that moment, Sansa understands what he meant and sees through his horrible burned mask. That's why she says: "You won't hurt me".

Both versions seem like a poem to me and I needed to make a fanart of it. I love this scene, and I love the interactions they both have. I hope that at least in the books they’ll have a worthwhile reunion and that they can thank each other, or if GRRM allows it, something more. It would be such a beautiful thing to read that she sings to him again, actually wanting to sing a song for him. Of course, that’s if Sandor is really alive.

#sansan #sansan fanart #sansan fanfiction #sansa stark x sandor clegane #sandor clegane x sansa stark #sandor x sansa #sansa x sandor #sandor the hound clegane #sansa stark #asoif/got #a song of ic and fire fanart #the little bird and the hound #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf fanart #asoiaf #fanart #fan art #game of thrones #game of thrones fanart #got #got fanart #a clash of kings

[k4marina]

— Prologue || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: a trip to Dragonstone goes a little wrong, or does it?

game of thrones x modern!reader

4.5k+ word count

sereis masterlist || next part

"Why are we doing this during the hottest day of the year, again?" Daeron mutters, using the brochure that was given to us at the beginning of the tour as a fan.

If I could, I would've replied, but the heat was also getting to me, draining away my energy. And, on top of the scorching heat, I'd just finished the last of my water. I pursed my lips together, the line wasn’t that long and I’m sure I can buy another overpriced water bottle after we visited the caves.

The group tour guide turned back to us, just as exhausted, and somewhat bashful. He said something, but I couldn't be bothered with it as I was too focused to not tip over from the heat. It was probably something like “only a few more minutes and we’ll be outta the heat, folks,” with an awkward smile or something.

The line to the caves under the castles was stupidly long, but it's no surprise. So much history was in those caves and so many mysteries had come full circle there. And, the deeper they dug, the more they uncovered the history of the Targaryens that lived there from when Aenar Targaryen moved his entire family to Dragonstone after his daughter, Daenys “the Dreamer” dreamed of the Doom of Valyria. 

"Who's idea was it to come here for our research trip?" I didn't bother looking over at him, knowing that I'd be blinded by the sun that shone directly behind his big head.

“Shut up. Your voice is giving me a headache.” I quipped. “Besides, almost everything on this island is connected to the Targaryens. It might come useful when we have to write our research paper.”

The line moved up until our group was at the front of the line. A small group of students, along with Daeron and I, were on Dragonstone for our research projects. Some of the other students had decided to stay in Kings Landing or go to other parts of Westeros for their research.

Everyone was to spend a week in their respective areas and gather all the information they needed before heading back to Kings Landing to write and then later present their topics. Some chose to do it themselves whilst others, like us, decided to go with someone else.

Today was the first day of our stay on Dragonstone. Daeron and I had decided to check out the caves and the island's beaches before we would explore the labyrinth-like castle.

I rubbed the side of my head, feeling a headache approaching. My hand reached up to my necklace that rested on my chest. The chain was long enough for it to hang in the dip of my breast.

Not only did I come here for my project, but also for me. The necklace around my neck has been in my family for generations, but no one knows from where. It’s made entirely of Valyrian Steel, which was rare back in the day, and even rarer now.

As a child, I didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until I grew older and more curious that I started asking questions. First to my family, but all I got was even more confusing answers that led me nowhere. Then I turned towards the internet, scouring for hours until I had found it.

On the official Dragonstone website, I found pictures of the caves under the castle and possibly under the entire island. On one of the walls was a crude hand drawing of my necklace. Two dragons around a sword with a ruby in the middle –though, the ruby was replaced with a red dot. Regardless, the cave painting matched. 

The line moved up and Daeron gently pushed me up while I was lost in my thoughts. “You good?” He asks. I nod, “Yeah. The heat’s just a lot.” He gives an understanding look. Once the tour guide is given the green light, he begins to lead up to the entrance of the cave.

"Ready?" Daeron asks. I nodded and we begin walking. Once we entered the cave, my jaw was on the floor. I had seen pictures of the caves, but seeing it in real life was far more beautiful.

The deeper we got we could see the cave paintings done by the Children of the Forest which Daenerys and Jon had found. As the guide droned on about the cave paintings, I could feel my headache intensify. Why was it so hot in here? 

The deeper and deeper we went into the caves, the worse it got. My chest started to feel heavy. I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. The back of my throat burned and I felt like throwing up, but I pushed forward. 

My eyes raked the the cave walls, Where was it? Finally, I was able to see it. The markings were next to a few unknown ones. A sign with some information was hung up next to it. Despite my head pounding I was still able to read the bold words. 

Unknown markings made by who researchers believe are the Targaryens. The paint used seemed to be as old as when Aenar Targaryen moved his family to Dragonstone.

By the time I finished reading, I could feel my head pounding so loudly in my ear. It felt like an ice pick was being hammered into the side of my head. I could hear muffled voices call out, but to who I didn’t know. The room started to spin and a ringing sound filled my ears.

A hand, most likely Derons, reached out and turned me around. I could see his mouth moving, but no words coming out. My chest felt like it was overheating while my head continued to throb. Everything turned blurry and then it went black.

When I woke up, I was still in the cave. The cold stone floor had helped with bringing my body temperature down. And, my head didn't hurt anymore. After getting up, I looked around the cave. It was darker, and quiet.

Where was everyone?

Carefully, I made my way out of the cave. It was harder to walk out of the cave and the spotlights that were on the walls weren’t on. Once I was outside I was met with the night sky.

All the tents and other buildings around the beach were gone, as if they'd never been there.

Okay, this is weird.

"Hello?" My voice came out horse like I hadn’t spoken in a long time. "Hello? Is anyone there? Daeron?" 

My feet moved on their own and I tried to find someone, anyone. But there was no one. How could a populated area with tents and buildings disappear within hours?

Retracing my steps, I found the stairs that would lead me back to the Help Center that were posted around for lost tourists, but like the beach, there was nothing. Matter a fact, even the lamppost that were posted into the ground, the banners, the signs –everything was gone.

"What the actual fuck?" Panic creeped up and I could feel my heart thumping in my ears. "Gods, If this is some kinda sick fucking joke..."

At this point, I was running towards the castle. For what? I didn't know, but surely there had to be something there. The grand doors seemed to be closed so I tried to find another way in. I guess you could say I found something like a side door that took a little force to open. 

The inside of the castle was grand. High walls, banners held high, candles and lamps lit all around. Truly, it was amazing. As I was gawking at the architecture I failed to notice unknown voices walking towards me. 

“Halt!” Two unknown men dressed in what looked like armor cornered me, pointing their spears at me. “State your name! Who are you?” 

I stuttered out my name, raising my hands up so they could see I wasn’t a threat. “I’m not going to do anything, I swear.” 

The two men shared a look and a few hushed words before one of them walked over to me, grabbing my arm roughly and pulling me along. 

“Ow!” I tried to pull back, but his grip was too strong. “What the fuck dude. I said I wasn’t a threat.”

“Khaleesi will decide if you are or are not a threat.” The man who wasn’t holding onto me said. 

Khaleesi? What Khaleesi?

“Oh please don’t tell me I just walked into those real-life roleplaying things.” I groaned, earning side eyes from both of the men. 

They led me down a series of hall ways, each one intricate as the other until we stood outside of a set of polished stone double doors. Another pair of men dressed just like the cosplayers that brought me here stood in front of the doors. Without having to say any words they opened the grand doors. 

Slowly, I could see the inside being revealed. 

There, on the elevated platform stood the Throne of Dragonstone, where all the Targaryen heirs of the Iron Throne sat as they took the title “Prince of Dragonstone.” A light push brought me back as I was dragged closer to the throne. 

“Khaleesi,” the guard called out. Before I could ask who they were speaking to, an unknown voice answered. 

“What is it?” 

Light footsteps were heard from behind a wall and a woman emerged from behind it. Except it wasn’t just any woman. Even a child would know who she was. Everyone around the world knows her. 

She was Daenerys Targaryen. 

Mother of Dragons. 

The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.

The Unburnt.

The Breaker of Chains. 

I could feel time slow down as I watched her walk over to the throne and sit down. My blood turned cold as she sat in front of me. 

No.

No.

She’s dead.

This can’t be happening.

It’s not possible.

It’s not. I have better chances of reviving dragons than traveling back in time-

“What is this?” Daenerys eyed me, confused at my appearance and why I was even here before looking at the two men. 

“We found this unknown woman wandering around the castle, Your Grace.” 

She eyed me, as if wanting me to plead my case, but the words died in my throat. Why wouldn’t they when Daenerys fucking Targaryen was right in front of me. A million thoughts ran through my head, but I couldn’t rack my brain to find one answer. 

Daenerys squinted before speaking again, this time directly towards me. “Who are you?” The High Valyrian rolled easily off of her tongue like a true Targaryen. Those three words held so much power and conviction, like a true Queen.

“Y/n Vellarys!…” I rushed to reply in Valyrian. 

“You speak good Valyrian.” She praises, but it's quickly pushed away. “But that doesn’t explain what you are doing here.”

What should I do? I bit my bottom lip as nervousness filled my body. 

Knowing that if I lie, I’ll be fileted, I took a deep breath before responding. “I don't know. I.. I,” I paused, not knowing if I should continue. If this was real then I only wanted her to know, “Can we be alone.. please?” 

The two men besides me visibly tense up, but don’t speak up. Daenerys looks down at us, seemingly in thought before she nodded. The two men bow before turning around to leave. The double doors closed with a loud thud. 

“We’re alone now, you may continue.” 

I nervously swallowed. Here we go. “This might sound weird, but.. I don’t know how I got here. I.. I woke up in the caves under the castle… alone.”

Daenerys’ face stayed neutral as I relayed the information. She seemed to take some time to process what I had just said. “Do you think I’m a fool?” 

I could feel my heart fall all the way down. Fuck.

“You woke up in the caves alone?” She repeats. “Not even a child would come up with such a stupid story like this.”

“N-n-no, Daener- I mean, Your Grace. I swear to the Gods that I’m telling the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. Especially when you could get rid of me with your dragons in a second.”

She seemed to mull over my words, as if weighing her options. “Alright, let's say you’re telling the truth. Your story still doesn’t make sense. How do you just “wake up” in a cave?” 

Now or never, I guess. 

“Actually,” I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not from here. I come from-” The future. Fucking hell, how cliché. “-I come from a different… time.” 

Daenerys squinted and I could see the clogs in her brain moving. “You mean you’re from the future?” 

Jeez. Ripped the bandage right off. 

“Well –uh, yes,” I say. “I was touring the caves and then I –I fell unconscious or something, I still don’t know, I just know that when I woke up I ended up here.” 

I let out a frustrated sigh. What if this was just a dream and that all of this is just my imagination running wild. 

“That necklace.” 

Huh? What is she talking about? 

 I looked up, confused. “What?” 

She pointed towards my chest. I looked down and I could see my necklace was out. “What about it?” I asked.

“Where did you get it?” 

“It’s mine.” I replied. “It’s been in my family for generations. Why?” 

Now it was Daenerys’ turn to look a little nervous. 

“I’ve seen it in my dream.”

“Your dream? Like, one of those Dragon Dreams?” I ask. She gives a nod, “While we were sailing to Dragonstone I had a dream of a woman with silver hair and that necklace. Because I couldn’t see her face, I thought it was me. I’ve turned the treasury over looking for them; however, it seems that I dreamt of you.”

Ho-ly Fuck. Daenerys’ dreamt about me. What the hell. I’m about to throw up. 

“What?” Now it was my time to be skeptical of what was being said. “You dreamt about me and my necklace?”

She nodded. “It seems odd, but a Dragon Dream has never been wrong.”

“Ture, but that still leaves a lot of blanks.” My hand subconsciously went up to hold my necklace while I tried to think back. 

The deeper I walked into the cave the more my head started to hurt, but that was most likely because of dehydration… probably. But then there was a burning feeling on my chest when I looked at the symbol on the wall that matched my necklace and the burning feeling got even more intense and it felt like it was about to burn my skin-

“Fuck.” I groaned, letting go of the necklace. The outburst made Daenerys frown, “Are you alright?”

I looked down at my hands and at my necklace before looking into her eyes. “I think my necklace tried to burn me, like last time.” 

“Last time?” She frowned. “How can a necklace burn someone?”

“I don’t know. It happened before I passed out in the cave.” I let out a sigh. “Gods, what is going on.” 

“It seems that this was the God's doing,” Daenerys says, as if it was a fact. “They’ve brought you here.” 

“The Gods?” I repeat. Sure, in some sense they did bring me here. “But why?” 

“That may be something for you to find out.” Daenerys stood from the throne, walking down the steps until she was right in front of me. “I was lost once, but then the Gods gifted me my children to show me my true purpose.” 

“The Iron Throne.” I thought back to my history classes where I learned that for the fight for the Iron Throne, Daenerys lost her life as she fell into what historians said was “Targaryen Madness,” but I’ve always felt that there’s more to it. 

“It’s late, I’ll have the servants bring you to a spare room for you to rest in for the night.” As if on cue, the guards from before stepped up to us. “We can talk further tomorrow morning.”

Daenerys turned to leave from where she came from. The guards bowed as she left. Once she was gone they brought me to a spare room somewhere in the castle, this time without having to pull me around. 

The hallways were nearly empty, meaning there weren’t a lot of people living here or servants working in the castle. The most I’d seen was guards posted around. Once we were in front of two thick double doors the guards stepped back waiting for me to open them. 

It took a little force to open the door, but once I was inside, my jaw was on the floor. Despite everything being made of stone, the walls were covered in rich tapestry. There was a giant bed with lavish looking furs laid atop the bed and maroon bed sheets. 

Behind me, a servant walked in with a few sets of clothes and laid them on the bed. “We’ve prepared you some clothes,” she said. “Would you like to change now or take a bath?” 

As if on cue, I could feel how dirty I was since I was practically on the cave floors for Gods knows how long. 

“A bath would be fine, thank you,” I replied. It honestly felt weird watching servants work. Not that it was bad, just the fact that in the modern day you don’t have them. Sure maybe someone who cleans your home or makes you food, but servants?

Once they had pulled out the massive tub and manually poured in the hot water they led me to the tub. One of their hands went up to my shirt's edge and the other to my pants. 

“W-wait!” They all looked at me confused. 

“Is everything alright, My Lady?” One of the servants asked. 

No it’s not. You’re taking my clothes off. And sure, it’s your job to do practically everything for a highborn, but that ain’t me. 

“Uh, there’s no need for… all of this. I can do it myself.” 

“Are you sure?” Another girl asked. “It’s our duty to serve you.” 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” I replied awkwardly. “Just not really used to all of… this. Um, anyways I can take it from here. You guys can go…” 

I internally cringed at my words. Gods, I sounded like an idiot, but could you blame me? 

The girls reluctantly agreed, leaving me alone in the room. Once they were gone I let out a sigh and began to undress myself. The water was hot, but it was fine since I practically liked showering in lava every morning. 

Settling into the tub I finally relaxed. This entire thing was just so… bizarre. At first, I thought it was some sort of dream, but that searing pain I felt wasn’t something I could just imagine. 

My necklace burned me. 

And it burned me when I first saw the markings on the cave walls. I looked down at my chest and hand, but saw nothing. 

Okay, weird. 

That aside, why was I even brought here? Why me? What do I have that made me so special that I had to be flung into this era of time?

“Think, y/n, think,” I muttered to myself. The dream. Daenerys’ dream about the necklace. But wait, no history books said anything about her having a dragon dream. Could this maybe be connected?  

For the next hour, I mulled over my options while I soaked in the tub that had turned lukewarm. Having enough, I got up and grabbed the towels that the servants had thankfully set close for me. 

The clothes that they had laid out for me were a bunch of nightgowns. Thankfully, they were my size. I decided to wear a simple white nightgown. 

Laying under the mountain of covers and blankets, I finally let myself completely relax, falling asleep. Hopefully tomorrow’s discussions can help this situation get better or at least easier. 

I woke up to the sun glaring down into my face. Groaning, I turned to my side, hoping to get some more sleep. But the damage was done. 

I could hear light shuffling in the room and things being moved around. When I opened my eyes, I was nearly flash-banged. All the windows (that are floor to ceiling length) were opened and the curtains were drawn back. 

A few servants from last night and a few new faces worked around the room. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes, catching the attention of one of the girls. 

“Good morning, My Lady. Did you sleep well?” 

“Morning,” my voice came out a little low and rough. “What’s going on?” 

“We’re getting you ready for the day,” the girl replies, matter of factly. “You will be having your morning meal with the Queen. We’ve already drawn you a fresh new bath and arranged a new set of clothes.” 

I looked at where the tub was last night, nothing that was gone, along with my clothes. 

“Where are my clothes?” I asked. 

“We’ve sent them to get washed,” the servant replied. “My Lady, if i may…” 

I nodded for her to go on. “We’ve never seen such clothes like yours before. They remind us of what the men wear however, yours are a bit more.. different.” 

“Oh, that. They’re just something that I made.” I lied. Thinking back to last night, I’m confused I didn’t get as many weird looks as I should have wearing my jeans and shirt. It's not really the typical Westerosi fashion for this time. 

“The bath is ready.” Another girl says. 

Reluctantly, I got out of bed, following them to another room adjacent to this one. The room was a massive bathroom that could function as a bathhouse. 

There was a massive tub nestled into the floor. The windows were also huge but a little higher up, letting in some natural light. I could tell the water was hot just by how much it was steaming. 

Carefully, the servants began to undress me. They led me into the water and began adding what I can only assume are oils and salts. Truthfully, it felt like I was at some fancy spa with how they washed my body and hair. 

Once that was done, they helped me into a beautiful white dress with a dark teal and gold design. I felt like a model wearing such a beautiful dress. I let my hair down, not wanting it in any style (or knowing any styles of this period). 

A servant walked me to the dining room where Daenerys was waiting for me. She wore a light blue dress with her hair braided and her three headed dragon pin.  

“Good Morning,” she greeted. 

“Morning uh, Your grace.”  I replied. “Sorry, I’ve never called anyone “your grace” before.” 

She brushed it off, motioning for me to take a seat next to her at the table where the food was already prepared. 

“How did you sleep?” She asks, beginning to eat. 

“Fine, surprisingly.” I reached down to grab a fork for my food. “How about you?” 

Was I really making small talk with Daenerys Targaryen? 

“Mine as well,” she smiled. “I was hoping we could talk a little before I had to go meet my small council.” 

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?” I wanted to smack myself. Every time I spoke it was full of nerves and anxiety. 

“Let’s start with you. Your name and where you’re from.” Daenerys says confidently. “Judging by your looks, you’re of Valyrian descent.” She says, eyeing my silver hair. 

“Yes,” I nodded. “My family moved from Volantis to the Eyrie. My family is known to be of the Old Blood in Volantis.” 

“The Old Blood?” Daenerys says, surprised. 

The Old Blood are a group of people in Volantis that have proven to be the last remaining families of Valyria. They live in a perched area of the city that only they can walk. All the families in that area still continue their Valyrian traditions and practices, just minus the dragons. 

I nodded, “My father is the youngest of four sons, so he thought ‘why not move to westeros and start something there?’ knowing that he wouldn’t have to really carry on the family name.” 

“And your family name is Vellarys?” She recalled from last night. 

“Yes. We’re known for our jewelry making in Volantis. That’s why my father moved to Westeros, to open a shop there without having to take over the business and stress like his older brother.

“As for myself, I have two older brothers. One is working to be a doctor,” Daenerys frowned at that, confused, “uh, it’s like a Maester. The other is helping my father run the shop.” 

“And what about yourself?” 

“I’m in school. I go to the University of Kings Landing.” 

“The.. University of… Kings Landing?” 

“Well, after the monarchy was sorta let go, they turned certain parts of the Red Keep and other castles into Universites -places to go for higher studies, like the.. Citadel for example.” 

Daenerys nods, understanding some of it. 

“I study the era of The Game of Thrones as well as Targaryen History.” 

“The Game of Thrones?” She repeats. “What is that?” 

“It’s, uh, what we call this time period. It ranged from the death of King Robert to,” the death of Daenerys Targaryen, “to now, and a little later. We look into how the events after Robert’s death played out and how people fought for the Iron Throne.” 

“Like a game.” She says. 

I nodded. “Yes, like a game. There’s this quote that Cersie Lannister said to Ned Stark that summed it up, “When you play the game of thrones, You win or you die,”.”

“I see,” Daenerys looks down at her plate in thought. “And what about me?” 

Oh fuck. 

“What about you?” I say, acting innocent. 

“What happened to me?” 

I purse my lips together. Should I say it? I mean, it’s a good segway to what I want to really say… if this part goes well. 

“You…” I nervously swallowed. “You die… before you could even claim the throne.” 

The fork in her hand hits the ceramic plate with a loud clunk. 

“What?” 

Nervously, I looked into her. “You were killed… after you burned Kings Landing to ashes.” 

She frowned. “You're lying. I would never do such a thing. Me? Burning down Kings Landing? 

And the Red Keep, but I’ll keep that to myself. 

“I’m not lying, Daenerys. After you died, Drogon picked you up and flew you away. We still haven’t found your or his body.” 

Daenerys' hands started to shake at the information I had just thrown at her. Carefully, I placed mine over hers. 

“Daenerys,” I said softly. “Breath. You’re fine, nothing has happened so far.” 

Slowly, I could feel her hands stop shaking and her breathing seemed to steady. 

“What do you mean so far?” 

I gave her hand an encouraging squeeze although, I can’t tell if it was for me or her. 

“Meaning, I can help you.” 

She looks at me, puzzled. 

“Daenerys, I can help you take the Iron Throne.” 

okayyyy so it's finally here after many rewrites. let me know if you guys liked the first person POV. its my first time writing it like this, typically i do second POV. more to come in later chapters. also, i will be changing a few things, nothing major. one personal head cannon that i have is that jon isn't really named aegon, but jaehaerys. makes a lil more sense in my brain. also, i'll maybe be using some info from the books. and if you guys have any suggestions with y/n's character and other stuff please feel free to let me know. don't worry there will be more story and character development in the coming chapters.

#heart of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #a song of ice and fire x reader #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #asof #asof x reader #asof fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #daenerys targaryen x reader #jon snow x reader #tyrion lannister x reader #sansa stark x reader #house stark x reader #house targaryen x reader #modern!reader #time travel au #isekai!reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones au #k4marina #cersie lannister #jamie lannister #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones imagine

[fromtheseventhhell]

Very funny to me how Stansas present her character as being so interesting and complex because of her vulnerabilities, while simultaneously ignoring those same vulnerabilities in other characters. Dany is sold as a bridal slave and lacks agency throughout AGOT and after. Her dragons are either too young/small to utilize effectively or locked away for the majority of the story. They aren't some all-powerful trump card that protects her from harm. Arya is captured as a prisoner of war, forced to watch countless people tortured and murdered, and then essentially enslaved in Harrenhal with no way to fight back. She has an entire arc of feeling powerless, of being a "mouse", during ACOK. She doesn't have "kung-fu" or the ability to magically fight her way out of every situation, she's a young child lacking physical strength with only the most basic sword training.

Sansa isn't the only female character, she isn't the only young character, she isn't the only character who suffered, and no one is obligated to prioritize her. I'm so tired of Dany and Arya being mischaracterized and having their stories erased to prop Sansa up. "Sansa has kept her dignity" In other words, let's praise her for having a level of security that Dany and Arya don't have access to. She hasn't ever been forced to make a hard decision which of course means that she's morally superior to them. They can't even admit to themselves that her lack of action is due to her own passivity. If it doesn't fit their delusion, they erase it from the story and expect the rest of us to play along. Ask one of them what they like about her character without bringing up her being the ultimate victim, and I genuinely don't believe they'd be able to give you an answer. They belittle other characters more than they talk about her and these takes just scream insecurity/jealousy at the content and development other characters have in their POVs.

#arya stark #daenerys targaryen #anti arya bs #anti daenerys bs #asoiaf #anti sansa stans #these being comments on a video of a stansas /correcting/ a Dany stan...the jokes write themselves #/she's a break from the fantasy/ /people would be equally powerless in her situation/ like they aren't even pretending #that they don't use her as a boring every-man self-insert #okay she's subjectively /normal/...what is interesting or important about that in a fantasy novel? 😭 #Arya and Dany are so interesting because they have that complexity...vulnerability but also the strength to navigate their situations #and it isn't because they're /special/ it's because that's who they are as characters #Reducing Dany to her dragons or Arya to her combat abilities (which barely exist) is such a disservice to their arcs #but of course acknowledging that they're well-developed and empathetic doesn't square with their fantasy that #Sansa is the most pure important character who deserves everything because she suffered 🙄 #they really write entire fanfictions and then go /why don't people think like us?? 😔/ #/Sansa kept her dignity/ yeah that's why she's currently part of a plot to poison a disabled child #because she was told she'd benefit from it oh yeah she's sooooooo morally superior to Dany and Arya 😑

[welldonebeca]

The TV Show - Masterlist

Summary: When they finally find a moment together, Jon invites Sansa to watch a TV show. They just keep getting distracted. Aka: Netflix and chill. They fuck in front of a TV. Pairing: Jonsa. Series Warnings: A little bit of Meta. Teasing. Sansa rants about House of the Dragon's costume design. Seduction. Degrading kink. Possessive Jon. Oral sex. Enthusiastic consent. Accidental edging. Jon Snow has a big dick. Oral sex. Virginity loss. Oral sex. Innocence kink. Dirty talking.  D/s dynamic. Begging. "No thoughts just sex". Praising kink. Rough sex. Mean Jon (but Sansa loves it). Fingers in mouth. Aftercare.

Chapter 1 on Patreon (12th of May on Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 2 on Patreon (19th of May on Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 3 on Patreon (26th of May on Tumblr/Ao3)

#Keeping up with the Targaryens #jonsa #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa fanfic #jonsa fluff #jonsa fic #jonsa smut #jon snow #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow fanfic #jon snow fic #jon snow smut #jon snow x sansa stark #jon snow x sansa stark fanfiction #jon snow x sansa stark fanfic #jon snow x sansa stark fic #jon snow x sansa stark smut #sansa stark #sansa stark fanfiction #sansa stark fic #sansa stark smut #sansa stark fluff #sansa stark x jon snow #sansa stark x jon snow smut #sansa stark x jon snow fanfiction #sansa stark x jon snow fic #sansa stark x jon snow fluff

[lazuli-writes]

Pragmatic

pairing: Sansa Stark x Male OC

genre: angsty/fluffy-ish/slice of life (in westeros)

estimated word count: 700 words

a/n: This is probably the first time ever writing something small so quick. It usually takes me days but I just finished this today and I feel so proud of myself. This story is heavily inspired from this certain asoiaf au I made long ago where Jon was the Bastard son of Brandon, raised by Ned. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, translate without permission.

Sansa’s eyes watered as the array of colors shined in the distant horizon. Colors of ash, smoke and blood danced in the skies, shining brighter than even the stars that night.

It made no sense. How could someone so evil exist? Then again, she was a hostage for the Lannisters, so the existence of evil people shouldn’t really bring any more shock to her of all people. But yet, here she was.

The night Jon asked Sansa to be his emissary to the dragon queen, Sansa was astonished her cousin would ever trust her with something so dangerous and important. Without wasting a second, she sailed for Dragonstone. Her only attendants being the lady Brienne of Tarth and her husband, Ser William Dustin.

Sansa wasn’t surprised with Daenerys Targaryen’s plans to conquer the seven kingdoms. What was surprising was the way she went about it. A failed attempt at taking Dragonstone by Cersei’s forces brought about the death of one of those ghastly dragons.

His name was Rhaegal, the Valyrian said. Named after her brother, the brother that kidnapped and raped Sansa’s aunt. A haunting reminder to the dark histories of their two families.

Though Sansa could sympathize with Daenerys about the pain of losing a child, Sansa failed to imagine the true depth of the Targaryen’s wrath.

King’s Landing was in ruins by the time the sun began to fall from the sky. The Red Keep was more a black ruin, with the ugly iron chair left standing. Sansa refused to stay longer, leaving Brienne to organize an escape.

She didn’t think she would have to escape that gods forsaken city twice, yet there she was. Hand in hand with her husband as Brienne cut her way through Unsullied, Dothraki, Ironborn, Dornish and even some Reachmen to make their escape. All the while Daenerys continued her father’s tradition of burning those she saw as her enemies.

“Tyrion was wrong.”

Yes he was. William probably noticed she was lost in her thoughts. Sansa knew he could always decipher her feelings in some form or way.

“Tyrion was wrong. Not really a sentence I think my former husband would appreciate. But he was.”

“Don’t really think it matters what he wants anymore, considering his desires failed to prevent his queen from burning King’s Landing to ash.”

The screams. That was the worst part. Sansa was a hostage in everything but name. She and her husband were left encamped outside the city with the queen’s party. The screams of the children, of the women, of the men, of them all. They could all be heard leagues away from the city.

Their escape was a hectic act, with nothing but hope and death consuming the entire ordeal. Sansa understood Greyworm’s devotion to his queen, but with his death at the hands of Brienne and William, Sansa knew escaping was the only option they had left.

Seaguard was the projected place to get to. Get to Seaguard, sail for Barrowton, then ride for Winterfell. Sansa could only hope the journey would be safe and as quick as possible. But she knew the odds would present itself to be rather trying and difficult instead.

“What do we tell Jon?”

Her husband, intuitive as he was, was genuine in his question. And for once Sansa had an answer to give him.

“That we failed, and that it wouldn’t have worked no matter the circumstances.”

“You know he’d probably give up the North if it meant saving its people.”

“Well Jon likes to think being honorable is the only right way to live.”

“You make it seem as if Jon knows nothing my love.”

William’s words and the smirk that graced his face enamored Sansa, like it did so many times before. Pulling the smallest hints of a smile to her face, Sansa took a second to gather her thoughts before speaking.

“Stop antagonizing him, we left him alone with Arya and the other lords, that is more than what Jon can handle.”

Sansa’s smile was genuine but small. In that moment she felt at ease, she felt alright. Grateful to be alive. Grateful to be with her husband. Grateful to be going home, though the way she was forced to go about it was rather sour. But in the end, that wouldn’t really matter, at least not to Sansa. For she had bigger problems to worry about now.

The others were coming. News from the watch made it clear that the battle beyond the walls continued to rage on. She didn’t know how much longer she and her people had before the demons of ice would breach the wall. There was so much to worry about.

But at that moment, she was okay with just being alright.

#lazuli writes #asoiaf writes #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #got writes #got fanfiction #got fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #sansa stark #sansa stark fanfiction #sansa stark fanfic #sansa stark x male oc #original male character

[justmymindandstuff]

Promise - Jon Snow x Y/N (Reader)

Summary: You are a Lady from House Tully and Catelyn Starks ward. But you love her husband bastard son Jon and he loves you. Your relationship is a secret, but you don't care. But then Jon makes the decision to go to the Wall.

Warnings: implied first time, fluff, forbidden love

Words: 2.876

Gif not mine

English is not my frist language, so forgive me for my mistakes; not proof read. 

You sit in the warm room and work on a handcraft. Sansa sits next to you and you both listen to the Septa's words. She explains something about housekeeping and numbers to you and Sansa, but you get bored and Sansa also prefers to concentrate on her stitches. Lady lies at your feet, her eyes are closed and she makes a quiet hum every now and then. Arya, fortunately for her, had hidden before the lesson with the Septa began. She's probably wandering around Winterfell or watching her brothers training with their swords. You are jealous of her.

"Septa, can you please tell us something about the Prince?" asks Sansa. Since Lord and Lady Stark shared with you that the royal party are one their way to visit Winterfell Sansa can only think about the golden Prince Joffrey.

"No, you have more important topics to learn my dear child." the Septa answers.

There's a knock on the door and Jon pokes his head in. Sansa rolls her eyes at the sight of her „Bastard-Brother“.

“Excuse me, Lady Stark sent me to get Lady Y/N.” You put your work aside and stand up.

"We will make up for the lesson." says the Septa.

"Of course." You say, but know you won't mind hearing such boring facts again. "Shall we go for a walk with Lady later?" Sansa asks. The Direwolf opens her eyes when she hears her name, but doesn´t move.

"Yes, I'll come straight to you after I've been to your mother." you answer. You are Catelyn Stark's ward, the daughter of a distant cousin of the Tullys. After your mother died giving birth to your brother and your father was called to Kingslanding by King Robert, Catelyn and her family let you in their house and raise you like you are one of them.

Jon closes the door behind you and smiles at you. You both walk through the corridors.

"Do you know what Catelyn wants?"

"Nothing. It was a lie. Do you really thought Catelyn will send me to get you?"

You laugh. "You can´t do things like that." you say but you smile. "It´s dangerous."

"Is it?" he asks, grabs your hips and press you gently against the next wall.

"Jon no." you giggle but then you grab his hand and kiss him, his grip at your hip tightens. Suddenly you hear steps, you and Jon jump apart and he takes two steps back.

"Because of you we will get caught." You say, Jon holds his arm to you, and you rake under it.

"You kissed me My Lady."

"I am sorry my Lord." Jons gaze is a bit sad now and he opens his mouth but you already know what he wants to say.

"I´m not a Lord.” You are faster than him and he smiles. “I know but I don´t care."

"Do you want to go for a ride?" he changes the topic. 

"Of course."

"Good, meet me at the gates." Jon presses a light kiss at your lips and walks down the floor. You take a deep breath to calm down your heartbeat. Everytime you see him you have the feeling that your heart jumps out of your chest and in your stomach fly butterflies. You are madly in love with this man and you have the luck that he loves you too. You know it´s dangerous. He is a bastard and you are a Lady. Your Love is forbidden but you don´t care.

You walk through Winterfell, your home, to the gates. Ghost comes to you and nudges his snout into your hand. Behind the gates waits Jon with two horses. You take the reins from him and get on the horse. Jon also gets on his horse and together you ride off into the forest. It´s a bit cold, but you don´t care. You just enjoy the time you spend with Jon.

Jon stops in a clearing. "Let's take a break." You look at him a little confused, you two usually ride for hours through the forests around Winterfell. And it's usually you who ends up barely getting off the horse because your legs are stiff and hurt. Jon gets of his horse and comes to you to help you, but you don´t need his help. You jump from the horseback and land bevor your Lover.

"Not really Ladylike."

"Shut up Snow." you laugh, and he takes your hand in his.

"Usually, your word is my command." he kisses your hand. "But today I have to talk to you."

You look at him worried. "Something happened?" you ask. Jon sighs, taking your hand in one hand and the reins in the other. Then he starts walking, Ghost runs next to you. You're still waiting for an answer. "I spoke to father today. After the king came to visit, he allowed me to go to the wall."

You stop, forcing Jon to stop too.

"What?"

"It has always been my dream to go to the wall."

"You want to put on the black? You want to leave me?" you can´t believe what you´re hearing.

"No! No Y/N of course I don't want to leave you. But father says the king wants him as his hand. There is no other reason why he should travel north otherwise. And then I can't stay here."

"Robb wouldn't send you away."

"Of course not. But you know what Catelyn thinks of me, when father is gone it will only get worse and besides, what else do I have other than the wall?"

Tears come to your eyes. "You have me. But that doesn't seem to be that important to you." you pull your hand away.

"No! Y/N please. Listen to me okay. Please let me explain."

"What do you want to explain? Why you are leaving me? I don´t want to hear it." You say angrily, you don't want him to leave you. "You said you loved me!"

"I love you."

"You don't leave the person you love."

Now tears come to Jon's eyes too. "What choice do I have?"

"You can stay here with me."

"And then? Continue to hide? Continue to meet in secret? Secret kisses and always being afraid of being caught? In the worst-case Catelyn catches us and she will demand my head."

"No she won't! I'll explain to her that we love each other."

"You know her, she will not listen to you."

"Is that what you care about? Is it fear? Do you not want to see me anymore? But please, don´t leave our home."

"I love you! I can't even spend a day away from you without it tearing me up inside." He pulls you towards him and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is full of passion and love and you cling to him like you'll never see him again. You break apart breathless. Jon rests his forehead against yours and looks deep into your eyes.

“Please believe me that I love you and that I don't want to leave you. But I'm a bastard Y/N, there's hardly a place for me in this world. But I will have a place and a task at the Wall."

"I believe you. But I don't understand why you want to leave. You have a place in Winterfell. Your place is at my side. Isn't that enough for you? Am I not enough for you?"

"Of course." Tears run down your cheeks. Jon carefully wipes them away with his thumbs. “But we both know, someday you will leave Winterfell to marry some old Lord. And then I have nothing left. The Wall is my only way out, even if I have to leave you for it. It is better like this, for both of us.“ It feels like he's leaving you already “Please Y/N please don’t be mad at me and try to understand why I have to leave.”

"I'll try it."

"Let's ride back. You have a meeting with Sansa."

"Now I don't feel like walking anymore."

"I'm sorry. But I just wanted to explain my decision to you."

You nod and you head back to Winterfell. You stay silent the whole way back, you have a lot to think about. Shortly before you arrive, you part ways and you are the first to ride into the courtyard of Winterfell. Jon will follow you after a while.

Sansa comes towards you. "There you are." she calls. "We wanted to go for a walk."

"I'm not feeling so well, Sansa." you say, getting off the horse and walking past her. Sansa looks at you a little confused, but she doesn't say anything else.

Your thoughts revolve around Jon and his decision to go to the Wall.

You try to understand why he wants to leave. And even if you don't really want to admit it to yourself, you can understand his reasons.

You walk towards your room when Arya approaches you.

"Hello Y/N." Arya says happily when she sees you.

"Hello little wolf." You say, forcing a smile on your lips for her. "You weren't at the class with the Speta this morning."

"Yes, I managed to escape." laughs Arya.

"You shouldn't neglect your classes."

"I know."

"I won't tell your mother under one condition."

"What do you want?"

"Come with me and read something to me. You read so well, please Arya."

She rolls her eyes. She hates these things, actually she hates everything that has nothing to do with swords and bows. "Fine." she then agrees. The two of you make your way to your room, you take the book you are currently reading and give it to Arya. It's a silly fairy tale about love, but when Arya starts reading you close your eyes and imagine it's your story. Your love story with Jon.

--

And then the day comes. The worst day of your life! Today the royal Party will leave Winterfell and with them Lord Stark, Sansa, Arya and Jon. Originally you should travel with Lord Stark and his daughters to Kings Landing, but after Bran fell from a tower, you stay behind with Catelyn and Robb. 

You are awake long before the sun will rise, but you couldn´t stay in bed. You get dressed and leave your room. You walk through the corridors up to Jons room. You are not often here, the danger of being caught is far too great, but today nothing matters anymore. You knock at his door, it takes a moment and then he opens the door. He stands in front of you and looks at you in surprise.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

You try to ignore his bare chest and step inside his room.

“I couldn´t sleep and I wanted to say goodbye to you. Before we doesn´t have time for us anymore.” Tears well up in your eyes. You had prayed to the gods that this day will never come, but now there is nothing you can do anymore than watch the love of your life leave.

Jon smiles at you. “I am glade, that you are here, but what if someone sees you?”

“I don´t care.”

“You should.”

“No. Everything I care about is that we only have hours left together.” You reach up to him and kiss his lips.

Jon kisses you back for a second, but than he pulls away. “Y/N.” he sighs and looks at you with sad eyes.

“No. I don´t want to be sad now. Please. We only have a few hours left together. I don´t want to waste them.”

Jon strokes your cheek and smiles. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you. Forever.”

Jon kisses you again, you wrap your arms around his neck. Jon wraps his arms around your body and pulls you closer to him. The kiss is full of love and affection. You know he loves you and he know you love him. Even if your love is forbidden, even if everything speaks against your love. Nobody can take this away form you. Not a King, not a Lord or the Wall.

Your hands run over his bare chest.

His lips move to your neck, and you have to suppress a moan. His touch sets a fire inside you. You know this feeling, Jon has triggered this feeling in you again and again.

His hands roam over your back and then in front and over your arms. Jon pulls away from you, breathing heavily. His eyes sparkle and his lips meet yours again. Just for a second and then he pulls away.

"You have to go."

"Why."

"If you stay any longer, I can't promise anything anymore."

"I don't want you to promise me anything." you kiss him again, this time demanding and passionate. Your hands bury themselves in his hair and Jon groans.

"We can´t." He whispers against your lips and then kisses you again. His hands roam over your body and you get goosebumps all over your body.

"I know what you're afraid of, Jon. But don't worry."

Jon looks at you for a moment. You can see in his face that he is thinking.

And then he kisses you passionately. His hands are all over your body. You snuggle up against him and moan under his touch. "Are you sure?" he asks breathless.

"Yes. I've never been so sure."

You turn around, Jon kisses your neck as he undoes the laces of your dress. It falls to the floor and you shiver.

You've never experienced anything like what you had with Jon that morning. It was loving, tender and beautiful.

You lie together on his bed. The sun rises and you hear the first servants walking across the hallways. Jon’s hand gently strokes your bare shoulder.

"We have to get up." you say.

"I don't want this moment to be over."

"I don't want it either." You turn to him and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you Jon.” It's just a whisper in the room, but to you it means everything. No one can take your time with Jon away from you, even if he leaves you today.

“Y/N.” Jon's voice is suddenly serious. "I will travel to the Wall today and I will put on the black. But I want to promise you something. I promise you that we will see each other again." He kisses your forehead and now you can't hold back the tears. "Don't cry my lady."

"I'm trying My." you interrupt yourself. “My Jon.”

--

You stand next to Catelyn in the courtyard to say goodbye to the king and his entourage. And to say goodbye to Lord Stark, Sansa, Arya and Jon. You hardly dare to look Jon in the eyes. You try to hold back the tears, but you can't quite manage it. A few tears roll down your cheeks, but you can blame it on the fact that you're going to miss Sansa and Arya so much.

The royal party starts moving and Jon also turns his horse towards the gate. But before he leaves Winterfell he turns around again, and your eyes meet. You look into his eyes one last time. He nods slightly at you and smiles. It's a sad smile, but you know what it means. I love you and this farewell isn´t forever. You will see each other again.

The gates close and you stand alone in the courtyard, and for the first time since you have been in Winterfell, you are actually cold. For the first time in your live you feel lonely. Caytlin says something to you, but you don´t hear what she said. You turn around and run into your room. You lock the door behind you and fall weakly onto your bed. Tears immediately stream down your cheeks, and you feel like your heart is tearing apart in your chest. He is gone. He is really gone.

--

The cold wind blows around your ears and you pull the fur collar of your cloak further up. You take a deep breath and ride towards the gate of Castle Black. You stop just before the gate and get off your horse. Your steps slowly carry you forward.

“Who are you?” a strange voice came from behind the gate.

“Lady Y/N, from Winterfell. I want to see Jon Snow.” Your voice trembles, but you´re almost there. You´re almost with him.

It takes a short moment and then the gate open and you can step into the courtyard of Castle Black. A lot of strange man look at you. You look around nervously. Your hair is messy, and your dress is covered in dirt and the hem is soaked in blood. Robbs blood.

“Y/N.” his voice flows through you, you turn around and looks at him. Jon comes down the stairs and runs across the yard to you. Before he even reaches you, tears are running down your cheeks. Finally, he wraps you in his arms again. You take a deep breath. His scent, so familiar and yet so strange, envelops you. For the first time since you left the Twins you feel safe.

“Please never leave me again.” You whisper in his ear.

“Never. I promise.”

#Jon Snow #jon snow x reader #Jon Snow x Y/N #game of thrones #stark family #jon snow fanfiction #house stark #Catelyn Stark #catelyn tully #sansa stark #arya stark #robb stark #winterfell #asoiaf #asoif/got #asoif fanfic #the wall

[ichorai]

OK COMPUTER ; the series.

a series based on the album ok computer by radiohead for our 8k milestone! fandoms included ; marvel, succession, harry potter, the walking dead, arcane, dc, game of thrones, and bridgerton.

main masterlist. about.

TRACKLIST.

ONE. airbag ; steve rogers (4.3k) five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

TWO. paranoid android ; coriolanus snow. (27k+) when you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.

THREE. subterranean homesick alien ; fred weasley. you were looking up at the stars, and fred was staring right at you, a dopey, lovesick sort of smile playing at the corner of his lips. “do you think there’s life out there?” you asked, but instead of getting an answer, fred surged forward, a hand curling over the back of your neck to pull you closer, freckled nose bumping against your cheek, his warm lips slotting over yours, extinguishing any and all lingering existential questions on the tip of your tongue. 

FOUR. exit music (for a film) ; rick grimes. blood all over your torn shirt, giving way to teeth marks. his horrified eyes met yours. you were bit, it was clear as day—and you had to make sure rick knew a couple things before you left for good.

FIVE. let down ; viktor (arcane). it was his fault, really. he knew better than to fall in love with his coworker, who was just recently engaged to someone else. someone better than him.

SIX. karma police ; dick grayson. he skimmed his fingers down your side—your waist, your hips, your thighs. your chest was rising and falling rhythmically, features mellowed with sleep. he couldn’t help but wonder if “no strings attached” was really a good idea.

SEVEN. fitter happier ; miguel o’hara. there was a dangerous red glint to miguel’s eyes as you stepped between him and the kid. a muttered curse, a clenched fist, a twitching jaw. you weren’t afraid of the man you loved—but maybe you should be.

EIGHT. electioneering ; siobhan roy. tom had said he wanted to watch the two of you—but he didn’t exactly want to, not really. shiv didn’t quite care. it was his loss, after all.

NINE. climbing up the walls ; sansa stark. sansa begins to pull away from you after her father’s death.

TEN. no surprises ; sam wilson. the two of you go off to look for wanda, supposedly in a quaint little town called westview. but in a blink of an eye—you’re a smiling housewife and sam is your loving husband, trapped in a house that didn’t quite feel like home. 

ELEVEN. lucky ; theon greyjoy.  he thinks you look so very pretty laying on the snow, frost clinging to your lashes.

TWELVE. the tourist ; benedict bridgerton. it was typical of him, of course. to fall in love with the traveling artist with keen eyes and calloused hands.

#ok computer #steve rogers x reader #fred weasley x reader #rick grimes x reader #arcane viktor x reader #dick grayson x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #siobhan roy x reader #sansa stark x reader #sam wilson x reader #theon greyjoy x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #marvel fanfiction #succession fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #dc fanfiction #arcane fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #bridgerton fanfiction #my fourth milestone series !! <3 #coriolanus snow x reader