#Sansa Stark imagine

[dumbkiri]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄! 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

+ Sansa's direwolf is supposed to be used as retribution for injuring a prince. [Name] shoulders the true pain of it all and demands a duel to solve this problem.

+ Song that I took inspo from The Throne Is Mine by Ramin Djawadi

“No, no, no, Lady wasn’t there! She didn’t bite anyone! She’s good!” 

Sansa’s strained anger heated Arya up as she stepped up for her sister and glared a hateful look at the Queen, “Lady wasn’t there! You leave her alone!” The young stark girl continued to glare at Cersei even when Sansa blocked her line of sight by reaching out to their father. 

“Stop! Don’t let them do this,” She begged her father then looked back at the Lannisters, “Please! Please, it wasn’t Lady!” 

Ned looked back at Robert with a storm brewing in his brown eyes, “Is this your command? Your Grace?” 

Arya flicked her eyes between her father and his best friend. She saw the settled look in the King’s eyes and she jumped up before he could speak or walk away. Her solution to saving her sister’s direwolf was the eldest Baratheon son, Sansa’s betrothed. 

“[Name]! He can tell you what happened, he accompanied Sansa by the creek! You have to ask him what really happened!” Arya looked at the King and the big man hummed, deep in thought. He considered Arya’s suggestion in silence, the soldiers around him waiting for his word. 

Robert’s eldest son never lied to him and if he did, he was damn good at it. So he walked back over to the Stark family and told Ned, “I will hear my son out then this will be solved.” 

The King walked over to his seat and ordered for [Name]’s appearance. Everyone waited in a tense atmosphere waiting for the Stag Prince and his point of view of what happened today. 

A whistle broke the silence and the majority of the bystanders understood this melody that they heard. With his short style brown hair and striking brown eyes, [Name] walked into the room whistling the Rains of Castamere theme. He walked with poised authority and every man he passed greeted him with murmurs of ‘My Prince’. 

He casted a quick glance at the Stark family and grew strangely upset at the tears Sansa has cried while waiting for the fate of her direwolf. The whistling seized as he slowed his pace down to observe the streaks running down his future wife’s face. His apparent confusion didn’t waver his stride and he continued onward to address Ned with a formal greeting, “My Lord.” 

“My Prince,” Ned returned the small greeting then turned over to Robert. 

The King moved in his seat and gestured to Joffrey, “What happened to your brother?” 

[Name] looked over at Joffrey and noticed his right hand in some kind of bandage. He covered his chuckle with a clearing of his throat and asked, “He really needs to bandage a small nip from a direwolf?” 

“So it is true,” His mother questioned with a frown, “the beast did maim your brother.” 

“Maim?” [Name] didn’t hide his chuckle this time after his mother spoke. Truth be told, [Name] took the bite from Nymeria protecting Joffrey from the vicious bite. His eyes crinkled with humor tickling his spine, “Oh, come on, my brother prattles on about being a Stag and a Lion, but he can’t handle a nip from a Wolf? Mother really did raise you to be as soft as a-”

“You will insult your brother no more,” Cersei commanded, steering her eldest son’s attention away from Joffrey to her. 

[Name] listened to her demand and resorted to telling his father what happened between Arya Stark and his young brother; Joffrey.

“Nymeria did not attack Joffrey on behalf of Arya’s order. She did nothing to instigate the direwolf into an attack.” 

“So your brother is a liar?” Robert straightened in his seat, ready to end this whole ordeal with his eldest son’s words. 

“Father, you know as well as I do that Joffrey cries wolf the moment he can. He tried to tattle on me when I knocked him off his horse for insulting my lady. Now he stands there trying to diminish her sister’s dignity? I won’t stand for this slander against my lady’s sister.”

[Name] stepped closer to his father and stretched his arm out. Pulling the sleeve of his tunic up, everyone gasped at the actual bite [Name] took from Nymeria. The bite was more severe than Joffrey’s nip and [Name] quieted everyone’s gasps and tamed the blood boiling in his father’s stomach. 

“Ned, your daughter-” Robert snapped his glare full of fury at his friend. 

“Father, let me tell you the whole story,” [Name] interrupted and covered the bite again, “Joffrey tried to impress Sansa, by challenging Arya’s friend to an unfair duel. Our coddled prince demanded a butcher’s boy to pick up his sword and fight him; wood against steel. When the boy refused to do so, Joffrey enforced his authority as prince and wounded the butcher’s boy. 

“Arya could not stand this treatment her friend received and-” [Name] did his best to keep a straight face. Remembering the look on Joffrey’s face when Arya swung a stick at him brought [Name] great joy. “She whacked my brother with a stick needless to say.” 

A chorus of chuckles echoed in the room and Cersei silenced them with a stern glare around the room. 

“Really?” Robert grumbled and gave Joffrey a side glance, “not only did this girl disarm you, she landed an attack on you?” 

“F-father, she hit me from behind!” Joffrey protested. 

“And so what!” Robert shouted back, pointing at [Name]’s arm, “Your brother took most of the brutal attack from the damn wolf and I don’t see him crying to me about it! Are you so weak as to challenge a butcher’s boy who wields a stick? So weak that you have to whine about a nip from a wolf when your brother stands there terribly wounded?” 

[Name] casted a daring look at his mother and her steely eyes were already on him. He knew she had some questions for him. He already told the truth, and he hoped his father wouldn’t be swayed by her words. 

“And why didn’t you come immediately to defend your lady or her sister?” Cersei mocked.

Robert caught onto this and he shook his head knowing what kind of crap his queen tried to pull on their son. 

[Name] gawked at his mother and showed off his bite again, “I believe my open wound takes prejudice over this argument. Also I didn’t finish the telling of the events today.”

His wound stung with the open air caressing it and he pulled the sleeve over it. Then he said, “Joffrey, in a childish rage, swung his sword with the intent to wound Arya. He had her on the floor whilst he pointed the tip of his sword at her, a girl five years younger than him. As a dog or any other loyal beast would do, Nymeria jumped to protect her owner. And as an older brother would do, I took the majority of the attack from Nymeria. Yes, the direwolf grazed Joffrey, but it’s nothing serious.” 

“Nothing serious?” Cersei scoffed and pointed at his arm, “It tore your arm up.” 

“Yes,” [Name] agreed, “but Nymeria knows me. When she felt my flesh, she let go as quickly as she could knowing that I wasn’t the one threatening her owner. Mother, please don’t coddle Joff any longer and don’t try to do the same for me. I have great respect for you, yet it pains me to see my own lady cry.” 

Cersei blinked and knew what her eldest son referred to. She suffered in the red keep knowing the whores Robert took to bed. But her kind son, [Name], stood by her side and kept her company knowing his father whored around. He promised her that he wouldn’t let his lady endure any slights from anyone and she kissed the top of his head for it. 

“What is going on?” Joffrey spat, then pointed at Arya, “Her wolf has to pay the price for hurting two princes!”

“Lady didn’t do anything wrong,” Sansa whimpered and [Name] stood in his spot, struck by surprise. Then his glare settled on his father. 

Robert knew that look well and he sighed, “Your mothers wants a beast’s head and-” 

“No, I won’t allow it.” 

Everyone looked over at the Stag Prince who walked over to the Stark family with his hand on the pommel of his sword. He stood protectively in front of the wolves and explained himself, “I won’t let you kill my lady’s wolf over a squabble between children.” 

“What would you do then?” Robert questioned harshly, “You have been wounded and a direwolf is no pet. Tell me, son, would you rather this not be resolved and forgotten?” 

Ned knew Robert favored his eldest son and [Name] showing off his wound did not help the Starks in their case to let the direwolf live. Robert would do anything to protect [Name] and give his son whatever he wanted. But sparing a direwolf’s life may have been too much to ask. 

[Name] looked behind him and saw Ned giving him a warning stare. This old wolf would listen to his king’s command, even if that meant beheading Lady. So [Name] moved his eyes away from the lord and declared to his father, “I want this rightfully resolved and it shall not be forgotten by my lady, her family or me. I’m the one who should be slighted, the one who decides what happens as I am the one bearing the scar of a beast. Yet I seek no retribution for what happened near the creek. 

“So here is my proposition: I will fight for the direwolf to remain untouched and unharmed for the entirety of Sansa’s stay with me. I challenge Joffrey to a duel for the fate of this beast.” 

“This is not how-” Cersei began, yet Robert cut her off with a growl. 

“Fine then, a fight is what started this and now a fight will end it,” The king stood up from his chair and demanded everyone to back away from his sons. Robert agreed to this proposition because this problem would not be solved without a fight between his sons. 

Joffrey stood by his mother nursing his wrist, hoping that the woman would protect him from his brother. His eyes moved frantically between the queen and his princely brother, to his disappointment his mother moved away and his brother stood his ground. 

Meanwhile [Name] pushed his emotions to the side. He couldn’t allow his anger to cloud his vision or ruin his senses. He had to win this duel for the life of the innocent Lady; for his betrothed. He would end it quickly using his strength as it always was too much for Joffrey to handle. 

Quickly every man hugged the walls and made more room for the princes who would fight each other. They didn’t know which way this duel would go. If [Name] had been at his best, obviously the Stag Prince would easily overpower the Lion Prince as he’s done plenty of times before. But they all saw his gruesome wound. The torn up flesh had to be tensed and hurting the boy. 

“M-mother, this isn’t fair.” Joffrey muttered and Robert heard him as clear as day. 

“Fair?” Robert sneered, then he gestured to a determined [Name] and said, “your brother’s sword hand is more wounded than yours. If you cannot defeat him then you get to be made fun of by the soldiers watching. Now pick up your sword and get this over with already.” 

[Name] followed his father’s orders and pulled his sword out of its sheath. His arm twitched in pain, but one solemn glance at the worried Stark family fueled him to push through the aches. Steadfastly, [Name] took a stance and readied himself for Joffrey’s pathetic lunge at him. 

Joffrey always made the first move, his attack had been fast yet weak. 

[Name] blocked the sword away from his neck and pushed down on the blade. Since Joffrey maintained an unsteady stance, he lost balance quickly from [Name]’s unwavering strength. The blonde haired prince stumbled backwards with a pitiful grunt, and [Name] landed a kick on Joffrey’s chest. 

It hit his brother with so much force that when he collided with the ground, the air in Joffrey’s lungs left in one swoop. [Name] stalked over to his gasping brother and stepped on his sword hand to which Joffrey let out a painful cry. 

“Yield,” [Name] demanded putting more pressure on Joffrey’s wounded hand. He pointed his sword at Joffrey’s neck like how he did to Ayra earlier in the day. The blood from [Name]’s wound leaked down his arm and slowly painted the handle of his sword and hand red. 

With a strained coughing fit, Joffrey cried out miserably, “I-I…Yie…I yield!” 

[Name] removed his foot off of Joffrey’s hand and backed away sheathing his sword. Then he looked at his parents with a grim nod, “The direwolf lives and if something happens to it, he will lose his sword hand. Honor this duel, mother, Joffrey lost in a fair fight.” 

He knew his mother was cunning and she would do something to exact revenge on the Starks, so he threatened one of the important body parts belonging to any man. She gave him a nod that meant she heard him loud and clear. 

“Alright, son,” Robert stepped up and nodded his head, “the beast lives, now go have a maester stitch your arm up. Your blood leaves a trail.”

“Ned, your family owes my son a great debt now.” The king turned his attention to the Stark family after [Name] left the room. His dark eyes watched Ned bow his head with his daughters following in suit. 

“Of course, we shall thank him soon enough.” 

Sansa watched her future husband walk away with his trail of blood being left behind on the floor. Her bright blue eyes admired the way he carried himself even when wounded. He walked with pride like a lion, yet his steps were swift and light like a Stag. 

She admired him for stepping in between Joffrey and Nymeria, and protecting Arya all at once. Then when Joffrey ran away with his tail tucked between his legs, the Stark girls fumbled over the injured Stag Prince. He calmed them down with a charming smile and showed off his wound saying that it would be a badass scar in the future, he didn’t curse at them like Joffrey did.

From the bottom of her heart, Sansa knew that [Name] was the right one to be betrothed to. She knew that staying by his side would grant her protection, freedom and possibly love when they get to know each other more. 

“We will thank him when the sun rises,” Ned stretched his arms out to his girls and began leading them to their room, “It is time to get some well needed rest now.”

Yes, she agreed with her father. The events of today have severely drained her. Her thoughts were full of [Name], even her dreams were of their future together. 

The Stag and the Wolf would make a fine union. 

[axelsagewrites]

What They're Like in Bed

Includes: Margery, Sansa, Daenerys, and Yara (Asha in the books but more ppl kno her as Yara I think)

Warnings: mentions of (but not descriptions) of various kinks, subs, doms, degradation, praise kinks, thigh riding, and oral (that kinda thing) 18+

Word count: 905

Men's part here

Masterlist Here

Margaery

Margaery comes off as very in charge at first, which she is amazing at, but she can have a subby side as well. When she’s dominant she is a soft dom though. She loves to ride your face, telling you to behave or she’ll stop. She’ll sit you on her knees or over her lap, slowly staring to pleasure you and trail kisses on your neck. This girl loves neck kisses. Like obsessed.

She doesn’t do harsh punishments and instead will ban you from touching yourself, or worse her. She’ll make you watch her pleasure herself when you haven’t listened enough to earn it. When you do behave though she will shower you with praise. The praise can also be condescending in nature, saying ‘how good you are for a stupid slut’ or telling you ‘good job’ with a condescending tone. She wants to make you work for her praise.

When Margaery does allow her submissive side to show she loves to be overstimulated and if she trusts you then fully tied up. She could spend all day being tied up and edged just for the satisfaction of her release at the end. She loves when you grab her jaw or throat, even some light chocking, but she doesn’t tolerate degrading or spanking. At least not on her. You are a different story.

Sansa

Sansa was hesitant about having sex to start with, her trust always haven been broken in the past, so when you do start having sex you have to be very gentle. However, once she becomes comfortable things get amazing.

She’s defiantly a very shy sub who blushes when you make eye contact with her. She blushes like crazy when you praise her which is often because of her massive praise kink. She loves to be told how good she is, how sweet she tastes, and how perfect she is. The praise also helps her get out her shell. When she does is when she wants to experiment with things like temperature play with you dripping hot wax over her chest.

Her favourite thing is when you run her a bath, rubbing her shoulders, and kissing her neck, before joining her in it to truly help her relax. She defiantly loves more casual sex vibes. I’m talking laughing and giggling mixing through her moans, sleepy morning sex, lazy casual sex, making out on the bed as her hands wander your body.  Her absolute favourite thing though is when you go down on her. Sansa can be a bit of a pillow princess in this regard but she’s also a very caring partner so if you point it out, she will turn her attention on you.

Daenerys

Daenerys feels a need to be dominant with her partner due to her history and never feeling like she is treated seriously. She does love being dominant though and loves a partner who will sit at her feet, praising her and begging to touch her. She loves to deny you of her touch or your finish until she has heard sweet praise and begs fall from your lips.

Her favourite positions are definitely to do with riding though. She loves to ride your face or have you ride her. Sometimes she’ll have you ride her thigh, teasing how easy it was to turn you on. She loves when you worship her body and the trails of kisses you leave across it. She realises her subby side one time when you began to suck her nipples and she wanted nothing more than for you to keep going and to please you. Oh also she loves nipple play.

When she is submissive, she loves to please and be praised, being told how good she is and how she can earn her next reward and asking permission to touch you or to cum. While she’ll ask first, she will never beg. She doesn’t handle degradation or punishment well but she never brats enough to deserve it. She just wants to be taken care of and make sure that you reach your own peak in the process.

Yara

Yara is a dom who loves to tease. This girl will tease you from the moment the sun rises till it sets regardless of whether you’re in the bedroom or not. She loves to flirt with you in front of others. She loves watching you blush and stutter at her words however she also gets a kick out of the days that you flirt as boldly back. This causes her to step up her game, sometimes dragging you off to the nearest surface or wall to remind you that she was in charge.

If her partner were comfortable with her, she would love to try a bit of exhibitionism. Maybe not go all the way but the idea of someone watching her turn you into a moaning mess riled her up to no end. She also wouldn’t be against watching you with someone else, however only if and when she allowed it and she was very particular on who she would share you with. This was also the reason she loves threesomes.

She loves to have her partner ride her thigh, choking them as she does. She’s down to try a lot of different thing but she will tease you incessantly while doing so if not straight up degrade you if you allowed her. She’s very experimental.

A/N: I love the girls but why can't they have easier names lmao I keep auto correcting to Margery not Margaery.

[poisonsage808]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do an imagine with sansa, dany and margaery please? Reader has a black cat that absolutely despises the ladies, always hissing and even trying to scratch them when they get too close to the reader LMAO, how would the ladies react? Thank you ^_^

Her lover was sweet, kind and cuddly. Her beloved was utterly perfect! So why the hell did her beloved have such a horrible creature at their feet that seemed to try to literally scare them away.

♡ Margaery Tyrell ♡

• It started out as a useful sign. Wherever the beast was, as were you. It seemed the creature couldn’t be without your presence. Tolerable at first, now bothersome

• It hisses when Margaery is but two steps apart from you, any closer and looks about ready to mask her with power it shouldn’t possess.. but might

• “Darling,” Marg coos sweetly from the doorway, “Perhaps you would join me for a swim today? The weather is perfect for it!”

“I’d love to.” You smile as you rise to your feet, abandoning your work to offer her your arm.

Margaery wears a triumphant smirk as she accepts, hooking her arm through yours and leading you to the pond

• The damn cat sits on top of her abandoned dress and glares from shore as Margaery steals kiss after kiss from you. In the water you’re completely hers. Unfortunately unless she bargains with a witch to somehow turn you both into mermaids, it seems she’s stuck sharing your attention with this beast that loathes her

♡ Sansa Stark ♡

• If wolves did not cower in the face of lions, she certainly wouldn’t for a domesticated variant of one

• Sansa ignores your black haired beauty as it rests on your lap, batting her pale hands away if she dares to rest it anywhere on you

• Once it hissed at her and she hissed back

• Sansa does a sweep of her room before you enter. Hiding spots empty, windows closed, it seems she’s safe from torment for the night— but the moment you open the door the cat darts under the bed

• You laugh, though you don’t find it as funny when your cat hops on the bed when you’re trying to kiss your fiery lover

“Shoo!” You beg, gently waving your hand only for it to purr and rub its head on your knuckles.

“Could you confine your furry friend to your chambers for the night?” Sansa asks innocently, inching towards the edge of the bed.

She gets a well deserved glare from the beast in cat’s skin.

You sigh with a smile, “Perhaps that’s best.”

• Somehow it finds its way back into the room and pounces on the both of you while you sleep, jerking you awake as it bounds off to hide again

♡ Daenerys Targaryen ♡

• You bowed before your queen whereas the beast would rudely dance between your legs defiantly. Dany swears it’s on purpose

• She has bite marks and small scratches on her hands constantly from trying to hold you

• She’d tried everything. Bathing, bribery with treats or catmint (which only seemed to worsen the treatment she received)

• Dragons loved her! Dragons were bigger, more powerful and yet this tiny black ball of fur terrified her!

• Worse? Her children adored the terror. Not one unfortunate snack attempt was made. You were in utter awe over Drogon napping with your cat!

• The only time it scurried off was when Daenerys would take you flying. She adored the way you tightly held onto her, no little beast to interrupt you both while up in the clouds

[fandomnerd9602]

Could you do a sansa stark x male assassin reader?

Y/N lands behind Sansa…

Sansa: you here for me?

Y/N: maybe

Sansa: you gonna stab me with your knife?

Y/N: I’d call it a dagger

Sansa: mmm it’s more of a broadsword

Sansa gently removes Y/N’s hood and kisses them…

She reaches for Y/N’s belt…

Sansa: welcome home love. Now show me your broadsword

[n-evermores]

The Queen's Heart

Pairing: Sansa Stark x fem!reader (Drabble)

Genre: Fluff, Implied romance

Summary: Your Queen Sansa's handmaiden. She tells you everything, trusts you with her life, but little does she know how much you admire and love her.

----

Sansa sat before you, her long hair falling free over her shoulders. Your gentle hands lifted the red tresses carefully, making sure to work out every tangle before you began braiding her hair. She didn't say anything to you at first. She sat there quietly, her pale eyes closed tightly as your fingers brushed against her scalp. You often watched your queen closely, keeping an eye out for her, yet admiring her from a distant as she did her daily duties as ruler of Winterfell. But right now you couldn't see her face fully, and she couldn't see your eyes softening as you began to weave strands of her hair together in a simple plait. Your lips parted, tempted to speak soft words to her, but you knew it wasn't your place. Instead a soft sigh escaped your lips.

"What's the matter?" Came her almost apathetic whisper. Sansa appeared cold at times, and her tone usually emotionless when she spoke. You knew she was kind and good underneath it all, but she's been through so much, so much more than what she's told you. And the red wolf has told you a lot more than anyone else.

"I'm just thinking." You responded, refusing to divulge your true thoughts. You heard her make a non-committal sound, shifting some in the chair so she could turn her eyes on you.

"Please tell me what you're thinking?" She insisted and you knew if you avoided looking into those blue eyes, you could have resisted, but it was too late. Your gaze met hers and you relented, your shoulders slumping in defeat.

"I'm thinking about you." You felt heat rise to your cheeks, "you inspire me." You added, hoping to divert her from your true intentions. She smiled knowingly, a sparkle reaching her eyes as she reached over to grasp your trembling hand in hers.

"What would I do without you?" She asked softly, squeezing your hand. You felt your heart begin to gallop inside your chest as if a thousand Dothraki rode to war within. It wasn't often you saw such a gentle expression on her face, but when you did, it was usually directed at you. You daringly squeezed her hand in return, brushing your thumb over her knuckles.

"I'm sure you would do just fine without me, Your Grace. But without you I can imagine the north would become even more cold."

"That's not possible." She responded and you just chuckled. Of course she didn't know just how much her presence lit a fire in the hearts of the northern people, especially yours.

"Trust me. It is." You released her hand before finishing the plait, wishing more than anything to undo the braid and start all over, not wanting the moment to ever end.

[hiatuswhore]

♕ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʇɐᴚ ʇǝǝɹʇS ǝɥ⊥—ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ sǝuoɹɥ⊥

♕ A/N: Ahhh I always get so happy when I complete these little mini stories because I have a terrible habit of not completing them despite have a full story ready to go. Send me any questions you have! I have already been gathering some of them and I am going to do one large overview and answer them all in a post. That will be posted in a few days. Sorry for the wait I didn’t realize how long it had been this definitely could have been ready days ago. Anyhow here is The Prince and the Street Rat—A Game of Thrones, the final chapter—well more like an epilogue.

♕ SUMMARY: The world works in mysterious ways and so does the residents of Kings Landing. One never knows what they find in the alleyways and rooftops. Whores, drunks, knights, thieves, sometimes even Princes.

♕ WORD COUNT: 2.3K

♕ WARNING: None

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The young Stark walked without words, the taunting words of the Kingslayer still fresh in his mind. His slow gait through the icy corridors muted, offering curt nods to those who pass him. The air somber, the walls knowing. He opens his sister's chamber door without warning, the steel beneath the cloth in his hands nearly weightless.

“Septa Mordane says I have to do it again. My things weren’t properly folded, she says. Who cares how they’re folded. They’re going to get all messed up anyway,” Arya scoffs, throwing a cloak into the wooden case, a deep frown across her features. Jon glances at her white and grey direwolf pacing about, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s good you’ve got help,” He says, his tone low and gruff with a boyish hum, a gentle reminder of his youth. The amusement in his words reaching his sister but likely being lost on a stranger.

“Watch. Nymeria, gloves.” Arya’s frown falls, a smile taking her lips as she squares her shoulders. Nymeria stops in her tracks, taking a seat as she stares with a blank expression. The silence persists for a few seconds before Jon turns back to his sister.

“Impressive,” He says, a smirk ghosting on his lips as Arya tells him to shut up. She tries once more, but Nymeria merely tilts her head. “I have something for you. It has to be packed very carefully.”

“And I you,” Arya says, rushing across the room. She tosses several things onto her bed. A blunted wooden sword, an incomplete knitted cloth with a sloppy direwolf sewn atop, and many parchments. Her grumbles fill the room before a chuckle supplants it before returning before her brother with furs covering her hands. She places it on the bed, nodding toward him, “You go first!”

“Close the door,” Jon instructs, chuckling as Arya practically skips across the room. Her eyes never leave the cloth in his hands. Barring the door, she says no peeking. He removes the fabric, assuring her he will not look as he turns, holding up the dainty steel. Arya beams as she steps forward while Jon removes the sword from its sheath, “This is no toy. Be careful you don’t cut yourself.”

“It’s so skinny,” She takes it from his hand, her eyes traveling up the blade.

“So are you. I had the blacksmith make it for you special. It won’t hack a man’s head off, but it can poke him full of holes if you’re quick enough,” Jon says, smiling as she gently waves it in the air. Her eyes locked upon her sword. She says she can be quick. “You’ll have to work at it every day. How does it feel? Do you like the balance?”

“I think so,” She fiddles with the base before looking up at her older brother. The two with the most Stark likeness besides Bran and Rickon. Jon leans down, placing his hand on the side of Arya’s face.

“First lesson,” His eyes lock with her own he speaks as though a sensitive secret sits between them. Small Arya clinging to his every word, so enthralled she fails to notice the smirk that threatens his lips, “Stick them with the pointy end.”

“I know which end to use,” Arya rolls her eyes as Jon hums a softness to him that the gods would soon wipe from the earth. He leans back up, dropping his hand, taking in every little detail of his sister as his future looms beyond the walls.

“I’m going to miss you,” He says, a silence sitting between the two before she steps forward, arms out wide. Jon flinches back, calling out careful as Arya’s sword swings ahead on his right. Arya places it down on her bed, looking up at her brother before jumping up. Her arms around his neck, he holds her from the ground as the two embraces. Jon mutters, “All the best swords have names, you know.”

“Sansa can keep her sewing needles. I’ve got a needle of my own,” She squeezes Jon a second time. Silence takes the room as the two hold each other. Arya pulls back first, Jon gently placing her back on her feet as she announces she must give him his parting gift. She nudges him to the side, removing the furs revealing a book. The cover shows beautiful sketches of dragons above a skillful drawing of Kings Landing. Jon’s eyebrows furrow, his fingers running over the title, Lady Calamity.

“Do not mistake my confusion for lack of appreciation, but why have you gifted me a book of—Targaryen history, I think?” Jon says, flipping open the cover sits a faded sketch. His eyes bounce over the assiduousness of the drawing. Many people appear to scatter around the couple at the center. A Targaryen cradling a bride in his arms, a dying woman.

“When people speak of the Dance of Dragons, we hear the same names and the same stories. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Black Queen. Prince Aegon Targaryen II, the usurper. Prince Aemond One-Eye, and Princess (Y/n) the beloved. The tales never speak the full truth. This Northern Sept dedicated his life to studying this through journals and parchments at the Citadel. Did you know Princess (Y/n) was a bastard from Flea Bottom?” Arya’s eyes shine with excitement as she speaks with nothing but confidence. Jon’s head snaps from the page to his younger sister, who beams at him. “No one can say for certain the relationship between the Princess and Prince Aemond, but there was a parchment from Queen Alicent to her father of an unbecoming friend of the Prince years before the war. The book believes it was the Princess. Some say they were friends and loved each other, and some believe the Prince to have an obsession. The reports are conflicting, but she is known in history as the third person to die in the Dance of Dragons. Hers and Prince Lucerys’ deaths sparked the war. Aemond one-eye torched Riverlands, the people rioted, and the realm became one of violence.”

Jon's eyes flick to the bottom of the drawing, the words staring back at him. The final moments of Princess (Y/n). The bells rang that of the swan song.

“Who killed her?” Jon asks, his eyes flicking back to the dying Princess. The drawing puts more emphasis on their faces rather than the movement around them.

“No one can really say. Many Septs challenge each other’s recounting of this history. At first, the realm blamed the Black Queen for the assassination of their Princess and the butchering of Aegon the Usurper’s eldest son. Sept Umberais debunked this in his research. While officially, the Black Queen and her forces are still credited, Lord Otto Hightower was executed by his grandson for the murder. It was incorrectly reported that Otto was beheaded during the fall of Kings Landing, but Queen Alicent's private journals reveal otherwise. The book goes into far more detail, but I think you should really read it. Sept Umberais found everything he could on the Princess. A bastard who shaped history. I do not wish you to die shaping history, but I do believe you will do great things, brother.” Arya flips the pages of the book, landing on another sketch, one of a statute. “During all of this madness, a statue was made in the Princess’s honor where she was laid to rest. Many believe her place of rest is one of misfortune if not given the proper reverence. I am going to visit it when I arrive at King's landing. Maybe receive a blessing for our family. Even King Robert was too afraid to desecrate it as he did the other Targaryen emblems.”

Arya flips to the final page, her brother’s eyes widening at the sight. The line work reflects an unmatched talent, the detailing almost intimate. Jon frowns, his chest aching as his eyes study your features. He cannot remove his gaze from the soft smile that nearly negates your forlorn eyes, “Princess (Y/n) Targaryen.”

The departure from Winterfell arrives with a heavy fog of naivety. Every Stark oblivious to the storm cloud lingering high above their home. Jon’s face of stone keeps all who travel around him without an inkling of his thoughts. When the opportunities arise, he opens the book, clinging to every word of the limited information on your life.

He cannot explain it, nor can he shake you from his thoughts. Besides his father, Jon cannot find another name that sparks this move in him. The journey to the wall consists of him wondering if you knew when it all began for you—if he will know. Your stories stay close even within Castle Black. It’s nothing like he imagined and everything Tyrion Lannister warned him of. Many nights, tales of your short life make the cold watches warm and the long days tolerable.

Arya’s journey south, her eyes bounce along the tree lines and hillsides. Her curiosity childlike and eager. Sansa rolls her eyes, sitting with perfect composure, a clear divide between the Stark girls. Their days in Kings Landing persistently absent from the others’ company. Arya walks the corridors picturing moments in history she’s read more times than she can recall. She treats the Red Keep more like a museum than a current resident to many, including herself.

“Must you always talk of a dead Targaryen Princess? Do you not fear slighting the King?” Sansa questions. Arya rolls her eyes, telling Sansa of the crown’s respect for the Princess. Septa stops their bickering, commending Arya’s knowledge while scolding her unladylike behavior.

She focuses on her dancing lessons and fails to convince her father to take her to your statue. Lord Stark, only hums, nodding his head to all her reasons but never answering the question. She’s sure it’s merely amusing to him, a laugh threatening him. The days blend into a smokescreen of routine, blinding the Stark girls from how swiftly the walls around them concave.

Arya’s heart hammers through her body with a ferocity that rattles the entirety of her entire body. She steps out into the road, the ding of the bells and chatter of the streets nearly nauseating. The few who pass her move with urgency leaving her in the dark.

“Hey, where’s everyone going? What’s happening?” She calls out. The two little boys who speed past her skid in their tracks, talking over their shoulder with glee.

“They’re taking him to the Sept of Sorrows!” The boy continues rushing up the stairs, Arya’s inquiry of who almost not reaching his ears, “The hand of the king!”

Arya drops the pigeon from her hand, rushing with the rest of the crowd. A few become many, and the back of their heads becomes her main view. The unfamiliar courtyard does little to halt her movements. She steps onto the side of the statute, not sparing it a single glance as her fathers brought out and escorted through the crowd. The mob screams words of malice, waving their weapons, but Lord Stark’s eyes lock with his daughters. In the group, many faces blend, spitting insults. At the pull of guards, Eddard scans the crowd warily. His eyes land on Yoren, bumping into his chest. He yells, “Sorrows. Sorrows!”

The moments fleeting, and the air stale. Silence consumes the crowd as Eddard’s voice booms throughout the courtyard. The gruffness of his tone clear and paced. Despite his lies to appease the few, the public still grumbles with resentment.

“As we sin, so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes in sight of Gods and men. He has confessed his sins before the Sept of Sorrows. He has given reverence to the resting place of a girl given to this world by the Gods. She is a reminder of the poison in treachery but also the failures of acting without mercy. What is to be done with this traitor, your grace?” Arya frowns. She cannot grasp why this occurs here and now. The Queen mother shifts uneasily as the young King grins like a madman. It’s all so wrong.

“My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Night’s Watch. Stripped of all titles and powers, he would serve the realm in permanent exile. And my lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father. So I bring you all here today. A sad day for a very sad excuse for a man. In this place lies dead a woman who could not be protected by her husband nor her King! Today I mark a new beginning, a King who will protect those deserving, one where no treason shall ever go unpunished. Ser Illyn, bring me his head!” Joffrey’s words fill the ample space, following a roar of excitement like no other. The cries of Sansa and the pleas of Cersei falling on deaf ears as Arya’s eyes sweep the crowd in disbelief. Arya climbs off the statute navigating the crowd with quick feet, her tiny stature bobbing and weaving without pause. It becomes less dodging and more pushing as her throat and eyes burn ceaselessly. A hand wrapping around her wrists, jerking her back, forces a gasp from her lips. Arya squirms to no avail, her father getting further and further away as her vision blurs and refocuses.

“Let me go!” She screams, blocking her view from the front. He forces her head toward the statue. Her struggles do nothing against his rigid grip. The indiscernible chatter of the crowd and Sansa’s screams fill the air. It lasts for seconds before a swift silence sweeps the crowd, and everything stills. Arya grows as straight as a pencil. She stops fighting Yoren’s hold her stare shape. The lump in her throat nearly suffocates as everything numbs. A part of her wants to laugh at what captures her eyes, a sick irony—a cruel one. The blue sapphire gem sparkling and vibrant, unlike the bleak air that lingers.

Princess (Y/n) Targaryen Rivers

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

The scent of the flowers were almost overwhelming, nearly a physical wave that engulfed Sansa as she walked arm in arm with you through the Keep’s gardens. It was a welcome relief from the offensive smell that coated the entire city and it was one that brought happier memories to her mind.

And your presence was a gift as well, as different as you were from the rest of the people that Sansa was surrounded with. Kind and gentle, you had gone out of your way to offer her protection from her jailors. It wasn’t much — usually just an arm extended to sweep her away to the same gardens they currently walked but it was more than anyone else gave.

The gardens and the godswood were the only two places that she knew she could go where nobody but you talked to her. It was another small comfort that she had.

Today, you had woken her before dawn, spiriting her away into the flower lanes before anyone but the servants were awake. Your arms had been full with baskets and a blanket with a promise on your lips to find the most deserted corner ever to make sure no one could find the two of you before she wished to leave. Sansa, bemused, had followed after you trusting in your words.

She had been correct to, and a short hike later had seen the two of you enclosed in a small glade that could only be found by pushing through a thin section of the surrounding bushes. The inside of the glade was wild and free, clearly having been forgotten for a handful of years but it was perfect for the small party you were attempting to throw.

The first thing you had done was to shove the baskets into Sansa’s arms and walk around in circles for a few minutes, seemingly taking measure of the place you’d led her too. Just as she was getting ready to question you on what, exactly, you were doing — you turned around and spread out a thick and soft blanket, large enough for the two of you to lay on comfortably. She followed your gestures, approaching softly, handing over the baskets when you reached for them.

Then you had laid out a small morning meal of fruits and cheese with crackers, lounging back against a tree to relax and nibble as you took in the rising sun cresting on the skyline. It had taken a moment for Sansa to follow your lead. She had, instead, been struck by your beauty, the way the pink sky lit up your skin and the color of your hair. It was only when you turned to raise an eyebrow at her that she copied your movements but reclined against you.

Her red hair, unbraided and unattended as it was, spread out in a scarlet wave across your lap. You allowed one hand to tangle within the locks as the other took to feeding her.

So the morning was spent as such in quiet contemplation, little words trading between you. However as the sun moved from rising to setting, you had moved her from your lap and continued your circular movements from that morning. You had also begun picking flowers, seemingly at random. The intense concentration on your face was comical, made more so when you caught her staring — twisting your face into shapes every time you caught her eye.

Many turns about the glade later, you had an armful of colorful blooms laid about around you and you had taken possession of Sansa’s hair again. The familiar sensations having her hair braided soothed her and Sansa closed her eyes. You were so kind to her, taking the time to gently brush your fingers through the strands to smooth them out…

She had almost fallen asleep with your movements when you slowly pushed her upwards to sit straight. As she rubbed her eyes awake, she saw that you were holding out a small mirror, a matching one in your hands. When she took it from you, you reached out to move her arms into the correct position. When Sansa turned to look in the mirror, she saw that you had lifted yours up and moved it in such a way that she could see the beautiful way you had woven all the plucked flowers into the braids currently crowning her head.

Sansa spent a few minutes just turning her head to see the entire work but when she turned again to face you, you molded yourself against her back and she could only see you in the mirror’s reflection.

“I thought that a gorgeous woman such as yourself should have an equally gorgeous crown.”

Sansa pushed back the tears that wanted to form and managed to croak out a small, “Thank you.”

When she dropped the mirror into her lap, her hands rose to grip yours that had placed themselves on her shoulders. Turning her head to nudge against them, she did her best to muffle the sounds of her sadness.

She didn’t know why but your simple act of kindness was enough to open the floodgates and allow the tidal wave of emotion to emerge from within her. You were silent but respectful, not moving away from her until she did first.

“Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it Lady Stark.”

[in-my-feels-probably]

Congrats on your 600 followers, your writing is amazing, i loved the rhaenyra x shapshiter reader especially. Mind if i request a match up from game of thrones(romantic)?

I'm a lesbian with she/they pronouns, I'm INTP 5w6 aquarius. I am 5'4 with very long black hair and dark brown eyes, I'm a bit of a tomboy but i don't mind wearing feminine stuff often. I like wearing darker clothes but i also like wearing soft colors like light blue or pink even. I also have black nails and black stud earrings.

I'm a very timid and quiet person. I have social-anxiety and i rarely talk to anyone unless it's my close friend or family. Some people might think I'm mute because I'm so silent. Besides that I'm pretty level-headed, kind, friendly and like to help if i can. Though at times I might hurt someone feelings since I'm brutally honest, I apologize after. I'm also the type of person to go with the flow because i want to take things easily and not make a big deal out of it, I'm a neutral person when hearing people's opinions unless it's questionable. I'm kinda slow to process some jokes and i zone out a lot since I like to be on my mind and because my sleep schedule is messed up. I like listening to my friends talk!! I hate to see my friends hurt or upset and try my hardest to comfort them. I cheer them up by doing things for them or taking care of them (my love languages are quality time and acts of service)

Interests: Reading, Horror Books, listening Music (classical and metal), sleeping, I'm a fan of oolong tea and passion tea, I like relaxing in quiet places while listening to music or reading, I like well-clean things and spicy food.

I don't really like trouble and like to stay out of it. I dislike loud people or insensitive people. I also don't like crowds and prefer to be alone. I get nervous when i meet people i don't know and pushes myself to a corner hoping they won't see me, I hate being disturbed when I'm relaxing or when i'm tired then I might come off grumpy, I hate being made fun of even if it may sound like a harmless joke, i get moody after, I really hate when things are out of place or unclean. Oh yeah i don't like cake too 😭

Hobbies: I really like reading books, especially mystery or horror(maybe even romance). I'm also good at painting/drawing but i get fustrated because I get artblock. Other times i like making things out of paper like flowers, birds, etc.

Other info: I have an uncontrollable strength, I don't work out it's just that when I pinch people payfully slightly they say it hurts really bad 💀

I think that's it, have a good new year and a good day ♡ 👧

hi! thank you for participating :)

i ship you with sansa!

especially in the later seasons, she became a lot more reserved. i think she’d need someone calm and on the quiet side, someone to keep her company. i think she’d be afraid to get involved with anyone, especially after all that happened to her. but i think she’d be drawn to you. you’d remind her of home, and quiet peaceful evenings she had as a child, maybe with her father. it would be one of the things she missed most, even when she returned to winterfell, and you’d be a small piece of the life she used to have. you’d be an instant comfort. you being quieter, she’d have to be the one to approach you first. you’d intrigue her, and she’d find herself doing things to spend time with you. you’d warm up to each other fast. you’d be an excuse for her to get away from her responsibilities so she could be with you. you’d know how to comfort her when she needed it, and she’d feel comfortable talking to you about anything she needed to get off her chest. she just wants to be in the north with her people, separate from the rest of the world. she’d be content to do that with you, it would be so easy. she’d love talking to you, telling you stories or explaining how her day went, appreciating that you were actually listening.

she had to grow up so fast, she’d be such a different person compared to the girl she was before she left winterfell the first time. you’d understand that, and she’d know that it didn’t bother you. shed have a much sharper tongue, able to stand up for you or correct a situation if she needed to. she’d seek you out during the day, wanting to sit with you while you read or did your art. she’s quite the artist too, making her own clothes. you could sit together and work on your projects, either helping each other with them, or just being content enough to work in peace next to each other.

maybe one day, she’d be sitting with you, telling you about home. somehow, you’d get to the topic of sweets.

“lemon cakes are my favorite. i miss the way the cooks made them when i was young.”

you’d pretend to like cake, and she’d be absolutely appalled once she found out you don’t actually like it.

“what? how can you not like lemon cakes? that is absurd, we have to make them now.”

you’d spend a day in the kitchens, making her laugh and smile. she wouldn’t even care that you’d scrunch your nose up at the taste when they were finished, just happy that she got to spend the day with you.

“i may not like cake,” you’d say, resting your hand on her arm. “but i do like your dress. you’ll have to show me how you made it one day.”

she’d smile, happily agreeing to.

[vintrage]

can someone please get this girl her dog back

[dumbkiri]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 2

𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗦𝗔 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗫 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘!𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

Part One

We arrive in Winterfell!

You woke up with a killer headache and covered in sticky sweat. All your efforts to calm your raging hard on yesterday painted your bedsheets and pillows. You groaned in disgust at the sight that greeted you and you felt bad for the maids that would clean up in here soon. You never knew you could release so much, but you blamed it on the fact you had a wine that urged you forth. 

You threw the sheet on your body off to the side and stood up to stretch your sore body. One glance at the ajar window told you that dawn had approached. You woke up at a good time to freshen up and get ready for the trip up North. 

The fire in the hearth died out as soon as you looked at it as if the entity in it disappeared. The crackle of the dying light barely noticeable, yet enough to get you moving. It sensed your decision to follow its unending order thus darkening your room a little bit more with its absence.

After cleaning yourself up, you dressed yourself in red and gold, the colors of your house before attaching your scabbard to your belt. The weight of your sword gave you comfort as you never left yourself unarmed in any given situation. You went as far as arming yourself with a dagger up the sleeve of your [dominant] hand. 

The letter by your bedside table captured your attention remembering the contents in it. Your father wrote to you about a potential marriage prospect. The idea of marriage wasn’t entirely new to you, especially if your future lady was going to be Sansa Stark, the eldest daughter of the Stark Family. 

Marrying Sansa Stark wasn’t a matter of consequences or anything of the sort. Actually you fell for the girl, but she fell much harder for you. Spending time with the Stark family could do that to a boy who was new to his feelings. 

You spent many of your winters having fun in Winterfell while Jon and Robb spent their summers training with you at Casterly Rock. The time spent in Winterfell allowed you to get to know the entire Stark Family. You recalled the times Arya and Sansa would watch you and their brothers spar. 

Meanwhile, Robb and Jon were your childhood friends and you had many stories to tell your siblings about them when you returned home. Cersei never really cared for the Stark boys, but she listened to your enthusiasm. She was especially interested in the look you had in your eyes when you watched Sansa work on her newest embroidery project. 

Thus Cersei actually engaged in a conversation with you regarding your crush on the eldest Stark girl. You didn’t tell her much despite her pestering. You had this feeling that Cersei was up to something, the familiarity of her cunning eyes warned you from giving her any straight answer. 

You focused your gaze onto your door and walked out of your room, wanting to prepare your horse for a long journey to Winterfell. It has been a year since you visited the Stark Family, but you received an occasional letter from Robb and Jon. Many letters were actually exchanged between you and Sansa. 

She shared her newest creations with you and you sent her new material from all around the world for her to experiment with. You felt bad that you haven’t visited her in awhile, but the voice in the fire pushed you away. You grew tense when it told you to visit the north because you had no idea what awaited you there. 

So far you did your best to navigate away from the north. 

Now with company, you could do so without the lingering fear. This betrothal between you and Sansa has been put off for too long. You were wondering when Eddard Stark would demand your presence. You could hear him talking about honor already and you have yet to saddle your horse. 

“My Lord, a letter from Winterfell,” Your squire hastily walked up to you with his head bowed. He hands you a small bound scroll with the Stark sigil on it. You fear that you spoke too soon. 

He walked away giving you personal space to read the scroll. Breaking the seal, you carefully unraveled the parchment waiting for the demand to hit you like a horse’s kick. 

[Name], 

When can we expect you to arrive in Winterfell? It’s been a long time since the North has been graced by your oh so warmth. Seriously, my mother has been chewing off my head as much as Sansa has asking about your whereabouts. If you don’t arrive in Winterfell soon, they might just send my father to come fetch you.

And no, they do not know you’re at King’s Landing like I do. I expect you will tell them soon? 

Robb

You smiled at the sarcasm painting the parchment, but frowned at the threat of Ned coming to get you. You wouldn’t want the Lord of Winterfell to waste resources traveling to Casterly Rock when you were stationed at King’s Landing. 

You knew the King was best friends with Ned and he must have received word that the King would be making his way up North. This means that Ned wouldn’t be traveling to Casterly Rock when he has to greet the King in Winterfell. Especially after the King’s most recent Hand has passed away…unexpectedly. You had your suspicions on what Jon Arryn got to and who ended him, but kept to yourself like you’ve always done. 

 After all, it was your family that was involved in it. 

You pocketed the letter in your bag settled on the side of your black mare with a pat. Then you watched the Royal Family walk into their respectful carriages. Surprisingly the King made his way over to you with a small frown on his face. 

Cersei looked over her shoulder to see her husband make his way to you. Her eyes are asking you for an answer as to why you garnered attention from her husband. Only to get no answer from your mismatched eyes. She urged her children into the carriage then followed after them with regal authority reminding you exactly who was in charge. If it’s an answer she wants, she’ll get it one way or another. 

“Why haven’t you married Sansa yet?” The King questioned with a heavy huff, he towered over you in strength and size, but you were still a growing boy. You had two more years to reach his height being six and a half feet tall. You stood at a proud 6 foot at the age of 16, already taller than his first born son; Joffrey. And more toned as you're trained for the days you would command an army. 

Patiently, you responded to him with utmost respect. Cersei may have some hatred for Robert, but you held no ill will to the man that brought the Targaryens down. Robert was a legendary figure on the battlefield, you admire his strength. 

You bowed your head and said, “My father is in the process of handling the wedding as we speak. While waiting patiently for his word, I have been communicating with my lady easing her worry. I apologize if our timeline does not fit with yours, your grace.” 

Robert scoffed and gestured around him, “Just have the wedding here, boy. I’ll let your father know of my plans and I will finally have the Starks off my ass about this “long awaited” wedding.” 

“Your grace that is very kind of you, but-” 

“Not another word,” Robert threatened then lowly said, “I respect you for your strength and how you hold yourself up. Unlike Joffrey, you don’t have your guards punish someone. You do it yourself and fight like a man.  So don’t tarnish your reputation with me by rejecting my offer. You and Sansa will marry under my roof and that’s final.” 

You bowed your head and said, “Thank you, your grace. We will be honored to have our wedding here.” 

You watched him walk away with approval of your submissive nature. Not that you wanted to back down in the first place. You wanted the wedding to be small and with the two families that will join together soon. 

“You hear that, Rain?” With ease you mounted your horse and combed your fingers through the mane, “The wedding is going to be here.”

Rain huffed and threw his head back as a response. What did that mean? 

It could mean a number of things and you’d like to think Rain hated the idea of the wedding being held here too. 

…

“Really, he said that?” Jaime chuckled seeing the displeased look on your face. His golden horse and your black mare neighed at one another while you two conversed in the outskirts of the camp. The two animals watching some soldiers wake up from the groggy sleep at the crack of dawn. 

You never confided with your other siblings about your marriage with Sansa, but for some reason you spoke to Jaime about it. He knew all about the duties of marrying someone. After all they shared a father that drilled into their head the importance of passing down a legacy. A legacy Tywin stopped forcing down Jaime’s throat and instead focused on the new lion that came along. 

You also shared the details of the wedding between you and Sansa in King’s Landing with your oldest brother because he didn’t think very highly of the King. He didn’t have great opinions about the King in general, so hearing his thoughts on your wedding would make you feel better. At least someone would be honest with you. 

“Yes, I believe if I married Sansa a lot earlier than maybe I could have avoided all of this. Now my wedding will be a spectacle for the people of the court and let’s not forget about the bedding ceremony. I don’t think I can do it. She’s only 13 and I heard she hasn’t flowered.” 

Which was a good thing to you. You can’t think to bed Sansa at such a young age although many couples have done so before. Even Targaryens weren’t against the idea of marrying between their inner circle. The bedding ceremony was tradition, a tradition you cannot partake in. 

Jaime hummed and loosened the hold on his reins, “Maybe you don’t have to, I mean if she hasn’t bled yet. Although people will question whether the marriage has been consummated and we’ll just have to take your word.” 

He gave you a wink knowing that this would bother you even more. 

You rolled your eyes and swiftly said, “When she does flower, I will take my time with her. Sansa is a very gentle girl and I have no intentions in ruining her. She will be my lady and I will show her respect.” 

“Sometimes women like to be-”

“We’re children, Jaime,” You bit before he could chew some more, “Intimacy should be discussed between the man and the woman, we have yet to become that. I will take my time with her and not tarnish a girl of becoming a lady.” 

Jaime surrendered with a heavy sigh, but not completely. The oldest Lannister brother wanted to tease a bit more,  “I’m surprised you kept your chastity for so long, you must have a desire to bed Sansa as soon as possible. You are a boy growing into a man soon.”

You felt compelled to slap the back of Jaime’s head with your hand. To watch that shit eating grin on his face turn into a surprised look would make your day. But you could not do it because you felt a hungry stare on your body. Like someone was feasting on your oblivious state of mind.

Jaime watched you look around the settlement with a guarded gaze and your black mare neighing at the discomfort from your unease. He settled his hand on his pommel just in time for you to snap at him, “Ambush!” 

As soon as the word left your mouth, a loose tip of an arrow grazed the bridge of your nose and cheek. It snapped into the tree next to you and you pulled your horse into a sprint. Going into the opposite direction of Jaime, you heard him shout, alarming the rest of the soldiers of the impending attack. 

You could feel the blood run down your face and you pulled your sword out from its sheath. A man dressed in rags ran out from the bushes with a rusted dagger high into the air. He aimed for your horse’s neck and you were quick to swing your sword. His attacking arm came clean off with a cry of agony leaving his mouth. 

The man fell to the floor clutching his wounded arm to his chest and you turned around to finish the job. Your horse ran at him and you struck him with a fatal blow, ending his miserable life. 

“I have gold! Plenty of gold for you to have!” 

“Then hand it over, dwarf!” 

You heard a commotion going on in front of you just a few feet away. In the dim light nature provided you, you saw Tyrion in his night clothes throw a bag of gold on the floor. His attacker picked it up with haste and sliced the air with his dagger, “I know you have more! You’re a Lannister and…”

You drowned his voice out and slid the dagger from your sleeve into your hand. Your breathing slowed into a calm rhythm and you held the blade between your fingertips. Raising your arm up, you flicked downward and watched the dagger cut through the air as fast as lightning. 

Tyrion raised his hands in surrender and said, “Of course, I can get you more! I just need-” 

SQUELCH!

Tyrion flinched as the stream of blood flew out of the robber’s head, a dagger with a gold hilt deeply wedged inside the body part. He looked to the left to see you on top of your horse hidden in the shadows of the trees. You looked like some type of demon with the darkness covering your barely noticeable form. 

“Tyr, you okay?” 

Your horse trotted up to him and you dismounted with ease. Tyrion noted that you didn’t have to kneel down to check if he had injuries like he was some child. But you were a giant compared to him and the dead body at your horse’s hooves. 

“He almost had you there.”

When Tyrion’s initial shock washed away, he saw the blood cover the right side of your face. It started below your eye and reached the bridge of your nose. He wanted to ask if you were alright, but you beat him to it, “Just an arrow.” 

You stood up from the dirt and wiped your bloody face. Then you looked down at him, “This is going to scar, isn’t it?” 

Tyrion nodded his head, “Yes, but the ladies will still swoon over you.” 

You scoffed and just as the morning light touched the earth, you witnessed the knights have captured and slained the bandits that threatened the Royal Family. Word reached the North fast about the King visiting Winterfell, which must have made hungry bandits dumb enough to try and rob the carriages. 

“Seems like everyone is still alive and doing well.” Tyrion picked up his bag of gold from the grubby hands of the dead man, “Except you, go get that wound stitched up or something. It could get infected.” 

You put your sword away and pressed your foot on the dead man’s head. Leaning over you pulled your dagger from his head and wiped the blood on your pant leg twice to clean it. “Aren’t you going to thank me first? I saved you from a gruesome death.” 

You weren’t into praise, but for some reason today felt like you deserved one. Probably because you almost died. Luckily for you, the arrow missed its mark. 

Tyrion watched you and shrugged his shoulders, “Would you like me to relish the idea of being alive or that man dying at your deadly dagger?” 

Your attention brought Tyrion’s eyes away from the dead man and to you standing over it like a lion over its deceased prey. But something else radiated off your body, the sneaking feeling crawling up his spine when your eyes glared at him. You slid the dagger back up your arm and he tilted his head at the secret you kept up your sleeve. 

“Why not both? They could be stated together,” Your wound didn’t stop bleeding and you paid no mind to the taste of iron in your mouth as you spoke, “‘Thank you [Name] because you killed that man, you saved my life and I am grateful’. Not that difficult to say.” 

“He was only robbing us because he’s obviously poor,” Tyrion argued back. 

You rolled your eyes and countered back, “He would have killed you the moment you gave him more gold. Men like him don’t care for the lives of the rich. One day you’ll encounter a man who will kill you because someone paid him.” 

“Then I’ll offer him more than what the person offered to spare my life.” 

“You aren’t getting the point which is fine, it’s your life to live and die for,” You grabbed the reins and led your horse to one of the traveling maesters' carriage to stitch up your wound. To the side, you watched Jaime comfort Cersei with his hands on her face. You stopped in your path and barely heard him whisper sweet nothings in her ear. 

“Ned Stark would be a fool to accept the King’s proposal,” You told your horse quietly, “A wolf doesn’t make a home in the lion’s den.” Your horse nudged his head into your chest reminding you that soon a wolf will make a home in the lion’s den, your home. 

“Ah, of course, my lady is a different case.” You smiled despite the pain it brought to your new wound.

…

The arrival in Winterfell is a stark contrast to the arrival in King’s Landing. The air was cooler and it didn’t smell like piss or shit. You always loved the area Winterfell was surrounded by. You found peace in the north more than you did in the south. But Casterly Rock will always be your home and you couldn’t wait to expand it with Sansa as your wife. 

As Lord of Casterly Rock, you will protect your family with the Lannister army and the gold belonging to your family. Your father helped you with most of it, but when he is gone you will rely on his teachings. 

And change the way he taught you. You wouldn’t beat knowledge into your children. You knew the pain and you promised yourself that no child of yours would go through that too. 

When you dismounted your horse and heard the Royal Family being announced to the King, you felt a body tackle your legs in a tight hug. Looking down at the small child, you laughed at the excitement on the little girl’s face looking up at you. 

“Arya!” You looked around the courtyard at the soldiers moving around then back to her, “you little daredevil! You’re supposed to be meeting the King and his family. Your mother is going to kill you and me when she finds out you snuck around to greet me first.” 

Arya smirked and released your leg with her hands behind her back, “I just wanted to make Sansa jealous! She can’t wait to see you, but I saw you first! Are you really marrying my sister? She’s not someone I’d choose. Also where did you get that new cut?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at her joke. Then you grabbed her gloved hand in yours, leading the girl back to her family, “Yes, I am and I like to think she’s the only lady for me. When we do marry, you can train with me at Casterly Rock. I can teach you all my cool moves. As for this cut, we fought some bandits on the way here. One guy was quick enough to nick me, two others weren't so lucky to live.” 

“You said that the last time and it’s been forever since you last visited us. You were supposed to marry Sansa awhile ago already,” Arya yanked your arm as a punishment and you sighed. She completely dismissed the bandit story telling you she hopes to hear more during dinner.

“I would like to apologize for taking forever, I just needed to prepare my home to become Sansa’s home. She’s going to miss the north and most of all, her family. You do realize I’m taking your sister away right?” 

“Good riddance,” Arya huffed out and you shook your head at her reaction. You had the privilege of having one sister, you couldn’t imagine two that would fight with one another every day. You remember these two, Arya and Sansa, bickering back and forth while the boys just spar with one another. 

“Has your father ever let you and Sansa battle it out with one another?” You asked with a mischievous look on your face. Not that you wanted Sansa to endure the wrath from Arya, but it’ll be good for the girls to let out some pent up anger. “It’ll be good for the two of you to fight with nothing holding you back. No mannerisms or familial relations to tie you down.” 

Arya’s eyes lit up in excitement and she gripped your hand tighter, “What a great idea! I’ll propose it to father when-” 

Your bout of laughter cut her off and you two rounded around the royal carriage with it dying down. King Robert, his family and the Starks were all looking at you with a lone wolf in your grasp. 

“It seems like one of your wolves left the pack a little too early, Lord Stark,” You playfully pushed Arya towards her family with a charming smile that killed the ladies. The little girl blushed at your soft expression and ran towards her mother’s arms. 

“Lord Lannister, finally upholding your honor to marry my daughter?” Ned’s voice cut like ice and you knew you weren’t going to be easily accepted for putting the wedding off for as long as you did. 

“I look forward to making Sansa my wife, Lord Stark,” You stepped up and respectfully bowed your head to the King who acknowledged you with respect, “I would like to make an announcement if you don’t mind?” 

Ned nodded his head and Catelyn looked at you with anticipation. You looked at the parents of your fiance and smiled, “Our wedding should be held in King’s Landing with King Robert’s blessing. He is most excited about our union and he offered to handle everything including costs, but of course I will handle some of it as well.” 

“This is true?” Ned looked at his old friend and Robert nodded his head with a smile. 

“When you keep prattling about this boy and your daughter, I had to force his hand. No one can reject a King’s offer though he did try.” 

Robert patted your shoulder with a huff and smile. Meanwhile you ignored the look from Cersei. You could feel the lioness’ jealousy. 

“Wow, how did you land a royal wedding before any of us?” A new voice spoke up and a big hand landed on your shoulder. Red hair entered your line of vision and your best friend gave you a grin along with a welcoming hug, “Welcome back, little lion, did my letter reach you?” 

You hugged Robb back and chuckled, “Just in time, I was worried your father was going to hunt me down. Perhaps Lady Stark would join him.” 

You heard Catelyn scoff from the side as her hand brushed your back, her voice held with content, “You are a kind boy, don’t ruin your image by breaking my daughter’s heart or I will come after you. Although it seems like someone else ruined your perfectly handsome face. The King has told us about the lot of you running into bandits.” 

Robb released you so you could give Catelyn a formal greeting. You picked up her hand that touched you and kissed the top of her glove, promising her, “Sansa will be protected and satisfied, Lady Stark. I will love her for all my days. And yes, the bandits were handled swiftly, no one can defeat the Kingsguard.”  

Catelyn huffed with her small smile and Robb stepped in saying, “Don’t speak your vows to my mother, Sansa looks to be jealous already.” 

You chuckled and straightened out your back to greet Sansa. Her blue eyes were settled onto you from the moment she saw Arya’s hand in yours. Your house colors always fascinated her and you looked so handsome standing there greeting her family like an old friend. Which you were, but to her, you have always been the boy she grew up to have a crush on. 

She would even dare say that the newly stitched wound on your face fit you. A man strong enough to face death and conquer it. 

To her, you were the man she wanted to marry. You were becoming a man her father will become great allies with in the future, a best friend to her older brother, and another big brother to her younger siblings. 

“My lady?” 

Your voice brought her from her trance and her eyes focused on your worried form. You didn’t step any closer towards her direction afraid that she was giving you the silent treatment. All eyes were on her and Sansa took one step forward then threw herself into your arms. 

“Damn I owe Jon some coins.” 

You heard Robb mutter to you with a teasing tone while Sansa swatted him away from the cute reunion she was trying to have with you. Before you could question Robb by what he meant, Sansa pulled away with a blush, “They made a bet whether or not I would forgive you.”

You laughed at the Stark siblings and embraced her back, with as much love for her as she did you, maybe even more so. You missed the way she smelled, she reminded you of the godswood and winter in general. 

She cools you down. Sometimes you have your bouts of disagreements. But she was your winter breeze in your afternoon sun. 

“Uncle, please introduce me to your lovely lady and her family. You did interrupt our introductions.”

Joffrey’s voice caught your attention away from Sansa and you pulled away from her gently. Allowing her to hold your arm with hers as you nodded your head, “Of course, Sansa this is Prince Joffrey and I’m sure her family can introduce themselves to you. I still need to unpack my things, I’m afraid the lone wolf stopped me from doing so with a tackle.”

From a distance, you heard Arya laugh from behind her mother’s cloak of deep blue and gray. You looked down to see the young Stark girl stick her tongue at you to which Catelyn swiped at her face with a disapproving gaze. 

You chuckled at the girl and looked back at Robert asking for dismissal and he nodded his head, “Aye, go on. Ned, let’s have a word whilst we visit your sister.”

Sansa regrettably released you from her hold and you gave her a warm smile, “I won’t be gone long. I will be back before you know it.” 

“Of course,” She whispered and focused on the other royal family, your family. Sansa would do anything to appease your sister to make sure you knew she did her best to get along with them. 

Yet you never warned her to stray away from Cersei. And it was too late as the Queen had a plan in motion. To diminish Sansa’s character and get you to focus on herself. After all, Cersei could not lose a Lion to a Wolf. 

[axelsagewrites]

Sansa Stark*What's This

Pairing: Modern!Sansa x gn!reader

Kinktober Day fourteen: sex toys and teasing with Sansa Stark – after finding a sleek pink vibrator in her top drawer you decide to see what it can really do

Word count: 1190

Warnings: sex toys, sansa being insecure at first, using it on her (not sure what kink that’s called), making out, insinuated sex, teasing, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

Her parents were out, scary movies were loaded on the laptop, and food was on the way. You couldn’t ask for a better date night with your girl. You were sat on the bed, Sansa curled into your side when your phone buzzed. “The drivers pulling up,” you told her, frowning when you saw your battery was at 4%, “Do you have a charger?”

“In my drawers,” Sansa said, jumping off the bed as she grabbed some cash off her bedside table, “Two minutes babe,” she said, leaning down to press a quick peck to your lips.

You laughed a little at her antics as she excitedly ran away for the food before turning your attention to her bedside drawer. When you opened it however you were met with only lacy and frilly underwear, something you were not going to complain about, but no charger. Figuring it must’ve been pushed underneath by accident you reached in, rifling around the door before your hand landed on something hard.

Your face turned in confusion as you fished it out, wondering what kind of charger was so smooth, however when you were met face to face with the bright pink vibe in your hand all you could do was let out a short laugh.

“Hey babe sorry I left my charger downstairs,” Sansa called as she headed into the room. Her eyes widened at the sight of you, “I can explain,” she stammered, quickly setting the pizza to the side and rushing to the bed.

When she reached for the vibe, you however snatched it back, “And what do we have here?” you teased, loving the way her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink.

She sighed as she flung herself on the bed beside you, “Omg this is so embarrassing,”

Concern washed over you as you dropped the vibe, now turning to comfort your girlfriend whose face was buried in the pillow, “Hey what’s the matter baby?” you asked, stroking her back, “I was just teasing I’m sorry,”

Sansa sighed into the pillow before finally lifting her head up, “Please don’t think I’m some kind of sex weirdo,” she begged and you couldn’t help the small laugh you let out, “Hey!” she protested, shoving your shoulder, “Its embarrassing alright,”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed baby,” you cooed, moving to sit up and forcing her to curl into your side like before, “Everyone does it and besides,” you said, stroking her hair as she let out a sigh of relief, “it’s kinda hot,”

Sansa froze for a moment before looking up at you, “Yeah?” she asked, and you leaned down to press a short kiss to her strawberry lips.

“Very,” you assured her, stroking your fingers over her cheek bones, “Bet you look so fucking hot when you use it,”

“Yeah?” Sansa repeated again, confidence growing in her voice as she leaned up to meet your lips. Your hand moved to cup her jaw, your free hand to her waist as your lips danced.

Sansa moved to straddle your lap and although confused you were not complaining as her hands dove into your hair, tugging lightly at the scalp making you groan into the kiss, “Maybe we should test it out,” you murmured against her lips. Sansa paused for a moment, her eyes flickering to where the pink vibe lay discarded on the other side of the bed, “We don’t have to,” you assured her.

“I want to,” Sansa cut you off, reaching for the vibe and shoving it into your hands. You tossed it over your palm, getting a feel for the smooth silicone however you were brought back when you felt Sansa move back and when you looked up you saw her tossing her top across the room.

“Now this is a date night,” you teased, your own hands reaching for your own top which Sansa was more than happy to remove as she crashed her lips onto yours.

At first you had sunk into the kiss, enjoying the way she moaned lightly at the feeling of your tongue massaging her bottom lip. She shivered as your hands ran up her sides, squeezing her tits lightly over her thin pink bra. “So, fucking hot,” you mumbled against her lips.

Sansa giggled, her lips moving away to kiss wet kisses down your jaw and neck. All while your hand reached for the vibe, holding down the button till you felt it buzzing in your hand. Sansa stiffened slightly when she heard the noise but made no attempts to stop you.

You were thankful for the skirt she’d chose to wear, not just because it made her hips look so grabbable but also because you were able to slip the vibe between her thighs, pressing it lightly to her clothed clit. Sansa jerked slightly, her kisses faltering as you ran the vibe up and down her clothed pussy.

Low moans fell from her lips as you circled its tip around her bundle of nerves. Her hands, still in your hair, tightened their grip making you groan. With your spare hand you grabbed her jaw and brought her lips back down to yours to mask her soft moans.

Sansa’s hips bucked, desperate for more friction. You moved your hand from her jaw to her hip, grabbing it and encouraging her to grind against the vibe. Her whines and whimpers increased as you did your best to contain yourself and not flip her on her back to fuck her right now.

Instead, you did your best to go teasingly slow till you heard a light murmur from her lips, “Please,” she whined against your lips, “Feels so good,” she mumbled.

“Aww baby girl,” you cooed, stroking her hair with your freehand, “I’ve only just started,” you teased your finger clicking the button again.

Sansa jerked at the new speed, her moans louder than before. they only grew louder when you pushed her panties to the side, slipping the vibe under and against her sensitive bundle of nerves. Curses and begs fell from her lips as she tugged on your hair and begged you not to stop. She continued to grind down onto the vibe, her movements becoming sloppier and sloppier.

“Such a good girl,” you praised, kissing her lips and making her whine, “so good for me,”

“Think I’m gonna-“she gasped, and you could see how badly she was trying to keep it in.

“You gonna cum?” you asked, mocked concern etched on your face as she let out a breathy yes, “Then do it baby. Cum for me yeah?” your words were all it took to tip her over the edge.

Sansa let out a loud moan, her hands tightening in your hair so tightly you winced as she rode out her orgasm on the vibe. When you felt her slow down you pulled it away, switching it off as she collapsed into a heap in your arms. “You okay baby?” you asked, stroking her back as you kissed the top of her hair.

“Fuck yeah,” she panted out, sitting up as she started to catch her breath, “Now it’s your turn baby,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @nyotamalfoy

[poisonsage808]

♡ Happy Heart Day ♡

Starks Edition

♡ Jon Snow ♡

He hasn’t ever celebrated this holiday. A part of him wants to and the other part is just so defeated, he wouldn’t know where to start anyways. When you surprise him with a handmade card and a chocolate fudge wrapped in pinkish wax paper, he blushes and stutters!

“A-Are you sure?” He asks, looking around like you’ve somehow mistaken him for someone else.

You smile patiently, urging for him to take the gift a second time, “Quite.”

Jon leaves for a bit after that, returning with a rabbit to make you a dinner to share in his chambers. You two sit close on the floor by the fire and with one heavy blanket draped over your laps. Sipping not the best ale (the Night’s Watch may never fix whatever recipe they have) eating rabbit stew and finally he shares the fudge you gifted him.

“I wish I could… make this better somehow.” He admits softly, partially guilty but mostly content.

“Don’t be daft, this is perfect.” You reassure him, nudging his shoulder.

Jon looks down at where your hand found his. He squeezes your hand tighter and his lip quirks up and suddenly its a much more perfect day.

♡ Sansa Stark ♡

This holiday belongs to her. She owns it, dominates it and if anyone thinks otherwise they’ll be proven wrong every year on the dot. It’s her absolute favorite.

From the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep, Sansa is lovingly doting on you. She presents you a new shirt with your house sigil detailedly embroidered onto the sleeves as well as a direwolf over the heart. Such a public claim, the holder of the queen’s heart.

Sansa’s pretty blue eyes go wide when she sees the romantic display you’ve made of her chambers. Candles, rose petals, her favorite meal and, “the sweetest wine for the sweetest lady in the world.” She blushes and giggles, rare to see for anyone other than you.

After dinner you nervously set a tray of lemon cakes in front of her.

“Did you make these?” She asks, delightedly bewildered.

“I attempted. I’ll not—“

Sansa stuffs one into your mouth before taking a bite herself, laughing at the powdered sugar dusting the corner of your lip and cheek. Overnight she clears the tray and her kisses become sickeningly sweet, each one longer and tastier than the last.

♡ Arya Stark ♡

She hates today but she’s silent about it, not dramatic like when she was a child clutching her stomach and faking gags at her parents smooches. Arya’s thoughts on the holiday don’t change with you, why’s only a single day set to appreciate one’s partner when they should do it every day?

Still, she’s sentimental. She marks a map with all the places the two of you have been together and a little note of her favorite memory of that place. Then in a slightly brighter shade of ink she marks places she wants to take you one day.

Arya doesn’t expect anything in return, after all she’s complained about today for so long. So her face is rather priceless when you draw your sword with a smirk. What could be better gift for the adventurer? She hasn’t sparred for fun in… she can’t remember the last time she did!

She beats you, of course, not even her beloved is allowed a single pity-win. You’re both sweaty and panting for air with smiles on your faces when it’s over. Arya pulls you by your cheeks into a breathtaking kiss.

“Thank you,” You whisper when you part, “for being my adventure.”

“That’s awful.” But she laughs, her smile growing wider.

Know that your hers too.

[fandomnerd9602]

Could you do a sansa stark x male reader please?

Sansa gently caresses Y/N’s face…

Sansa: must you go?

Y/N: Sansa I have to. The borders need protection. I cannot bear the thought of our home in danger.

Sansa grabs Y/N’s hand and moves it to her stomach…

Sansa: you come back…for us

Y/N: us? You’re-?!

Sansa smiles and nods, giggling as Y/N pulls her into a tight hug and kiss…

Sansa: come back. That’s an order from your queen

Y/N: yes my queen

[n-evermores]

Could i request sansa x reader? It'd be cute when reader bakes a lemon cake for sansa haha, thank you

When Life Gives You Lemons

Pairing: Sansa x Reader (could be seen as platonic or romantic)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 800+

A/N: I loved this request! It's so cute. I wrote this pretty late at night, so I hope it makes sense. haha.

You usually avoided the kitchen. Not intentionally, but because you had no reason to be there. But today was different. Melancholic was the only word you could use to describe Sansa Stark's demeanor lately. She smiled, but you could see the sadness behind her eyes. The Red Wolf missed her siblings, and you could only imagine she felt more alone than usual. She received a letter from Arya, but she knew it had been written months before, making her realize just how far apart they really were. She spent many years away from her siblings, and now that she had them again, they all went their separate ways.

Not wanting her to feel alone, you spent hours trying to figure out a way to cheer her up. You considered setting out to find any sliver of plant life in the sea of snow to bring her. But honestly, you knew that would only end in disappointment. You even thought about having one of the bards write a song for her, but knowing Sansa she wouldn't enjoy something so ostentatious. Finally, after passing a servant wheeling a cart of lemons, you ended up in the kitchen of all places.

The servants giggled as you fought with the cake batter. At least they took pity on you and helped you with the lemons, but they showed little mercy as you whipped the gooey lemon batter inside the wooden bowl. Droplets flew out and splattered over your face. But even so, you managed to dissolve most of the clumps into a smooth, creamy substance. The smell of flour and lemon was potent, and even you couldn't wait to bite into it.

"She's coming!" A young servant girl shouted in a small, squeaky voice.

You felt your heart beat quicker in your chest. Sansa was supposed to be in an important meeting and said it was an arrangement that could "last for hours." But judging by the footsteps echoing down the corridor, you knew that meeting must have finished a lot faster than she anticipated. Why was she so early? You feared your entire surprise would be ruined. You could only imagine rebuilding Winterfell and restoring it to its former glory took much of Sansa's time. But not enough time to bake a cake apparently.

You shook away your thoughts and tried to focus on the task at hand. "I'm not finished!" You said as you quickly poured the batter into a pan. "Stall her!" You insisted as you shoved the pan into the oven. It's not as if the cake would be ready in the time it took for Sansa to make her complete trajectory into the kitchen, even with the servants attempting to distract her from your endeavors. You dusted your hands together, sending residue of flour into the air. You turned in a flurry, staring wide-eyed at the tall redhead. "Sansa. Hi." You said dumbly.

Sansa quirked a brow as the corner of her lips tugged into a smile, "What are you doing down here?" She asked calmly. Her hands were clasped together in front of her. Her tall regal stature was intimidating and made you feel almost like a timid child in her presence.

You swallowed, feeling embarrassed as giggles from the servants filled the room. "Nothing." you lied, and terribly so.

Sansa chuckled lightly, knowing it wasn't 'nothing,' and moved closer to you. Her eyes roved over your face, and you saw amusement glimmer in her pale gaze. "Looks like batter." She swiped her finger over your face and brought it to her lips. "It tastes like it too." Her eyes gentled as the taste and smell began to fill her senses. "Lemon. My favorite." She murmured.

"Yes, well. It was supposed to be a surprise." You admitted, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Her eyes sparkled, "It still is." She said, "I can't believe you're baking a cake for me." She laughed. It was a light, airy laugh that warmed your heart and wrapped around you like a hug. Seeing Sansa happy was all you wanted.

"Well, I thought it would make you happy."

She nodded, "It does." she reached out to take your hands. "Thank you." She whispered. You could tell by the softness of her voice that Sansa knew precisely why you did it, "For cheering me up." She glanced at the servants, and as if they understood her silent command, they hurried out, leaving you alone with the Queen of the North. She pulled you close, hugging you against her furs.

"You're a good friend. I'm so lucky to have you." She murmured against your hair. You sighed as warmth and relief washed over you.

"I'm always going to be here for you." You said, and she squeezed you tighter. She may not have had her siblings in Winterfell, but at least she had you and lemon cake.

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Sansa Stark Masterlist

To join my taglist

Kinktober 2023-2024

Requests: Open

Sansa Stark:

Aesthetic:

One Shots:

Requests:

[myladysapphire]

Love, the death of duty

duty part two

married near six years, you learn that duty is truly the death of love, and yet when Robbs brother, jon, returns to winterfell, you find that perhpas you where wrong, perhaps love is the death of duty.

You can find the requests here and here

word count: 3,838

CW: MDI, 18+, Smut, cheating, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), slight breeding kink (if you squint), not beta read!

Jon Snow x Frey!reader/ Robb Stark x Frey!reader

Masterlist | Part one

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Jon snow had been at the wall for near ten years before he returned home. Ten years, six as lord commander before he was betrayed by his own men. And though he had gone to the wall of his own volition, a choice he made to better himself, to find a place in the world, he knew it was time to return to Winterfell. His brother Rob had written him begging him and asking for his homecoming, and even declaring as King he could commanded him home, and now he was finally listening.

He didn’t know what to expect, if he would be welcomed or scorned.

But one thing he did not expect was you.

He knew his brother had married, had had children, but never did he expect you to be his wife.

Someone of such beauty and kindness, and with such a profound view of duty it made his heart ache.

He had expected you to be harsh, almost too similar to the lady Catelyn. But instead, you had shown him nothing but kindness.

“Jon Snow?” you asked, approaching his as he brought his horse into the stable.

“My lady” he greeted, head bowing in recognition.

“It’s an honour to finally meet you” she spoke, a soft smile on her lips. And Jon had been struck instantly by you, you smile had stirred something in him that he had never felt before. And the way you had gone out of your way to greet him, even walking him to his rooms, rooms you had picked and had made ready for him.

You had made him feel welcomed in a way no one had before at Winterfell. Of course, his half siblings had always welcomed him, but he never found a home here, until you made sure he did.

“How far along are you” he asked, as you walked him to his chambers.

“Near eight moons now.”

“And it is your third?”

You flinched, had his eyes never left yours, stuck on you at every moment, he was sure he would have missed it.

“No, my second” you spoke that part with happiness, the second however was a tone he had hear many times, the tone of a lady fulfilling her duty, “Robbs third”.

He had never thought Robb would father a bastard, he knew of Jons woes and how hard his life had been, and yet he had actively gone about it. He felt nothing but anger at the fact and even more at the clear pain in your eyes. It was clear from the start what your marriage was, there was no love or respect, simply wedding vows long broken.

He shook his head in disappointment, “I am sorry, my lady, I did not know” he hesitated for a moment, as the doors to his chambers opened. They were different from his youth, where he now slept in the same halls as his half siblings and not in the servants quarters as he once had, “Robb only spoke of a wife and two children, I never thought-“

“Do not worry, Jon…I am not offended” you shook your head, turning to face him, “it is something I must bear…not you”.

“I am sorry, my lady” he bowed his head, as he entered his room.

“I hope it is to your liking, I…Sansa told me a few things that you liked in her visit a few moons ago, and Arya helped find the things you had left from before”.

“It is perfect, my lady…truly it is more than enough”.

You smiled, insisting he call you by your name, “let me know of anything you may need” you said turning to leave.

And Jon remained struck by you and your kindness, not many would make a bastard feel so welcome, especially one scorned as you had been.

They say that duty is the death of love, and that love is the death of duty.

You believed you were the very meaning of this statement.

Your marriage was a one of duty, such duty that love had died before it could even blossom, and where Robb had neglected his own duty to you, in favour of love, causing duty to die for him, and love to blossom. But not with you, never with you.

You had known that every day of your marriage.

Even more so the day she had died.

He had spent every moment of her labours beside her, a vast contrast to yours.

Holding her hand and crying tears of joy and then of grief.

And you realised you were only a duty, a duty he happily forgot of.

And yet for a year you had chosen to ignore it, only for more hurt to be caused.

And in the  five moons since that day, the day where he chooses the ghost of a dead woman over his wife, you realised there would never be love where there was duty.

Though you painted the image of the dutiful wife, happy and content to be a wife, mother and lady, you still craved love.

Desired it.

Even if it was not with your husband.

There was nothing, not even respect to be found with him.

Not when know you lost all hope of ever having a marriage of love. It seemed to be the burden of woman. Where men can fuck and love as many women as they desire, woman are more often than not left with the duty of marriage.

You and Robb were strangers now, you had moved away from your old chambers, though still in the great keep, your rooms were now closer to Jon’s quarters than his.

Jon.

Your mind was stuck on him, though he seemed shy and guarded, you couldn’t stop of thinking of him. Assessing every detail of him, taking in every word he spoke, every action he did.

Of the ways his eyes followed you, how he seemed to hang on every word you said.

In all honestly, she sought him out more often than not, they even developed a routine. Spending their lunches together and always at beside each other at dinner.

And though you both had your duties, he had been given as hand of the king, and yet despite his ever-building duties, you both saw each other much more often than what was appropriate.

He made time for you where Robb neglected you.

He cared for you where Robb scorned you.

And as time passed, you found Cregan more in the presence of Jon than his own father, found yourself looking for Jon wherever you went you slowly realised that you loved Jon in a way you had only dreamt about loving Robb.

He was always there, either by your side or in your thoughts.

Whereas your husband was never there either in presence or thought, even less in the lives of his children.

He had no quells when Talissa mother came from the summer isles and took Minisa away, eland you had even less. A part of you wished you had cared more, having taken care of her for the past two years and yet you only felt slight relief when she left, though you would never admit it.

Even as you remember the conversation you and her had had years before.

“do you hate me?” you remember her asking, as she bounced baby Minisa in her arms, and you Cradled Cregan in yours.

“why do you think that?” you sighed, having only been civil, out of fear of facing a side of your husband you did not think existed.

“why shouldn’t i?”

“you are the reason I will never find love in my marriage, I resent you for it but I suppose you resent me for marrying Robb, for being his duty”

“I am more jealous, I am simple a mistress, the mother of his bastard, you are the wife the mother of his heir. You have everything-“

“no I don’t” you spoke softly, “I do not have love, respect or happiness in my marriage, I do not have a husband that wants me” you placed Cregan softly in his crib. “I do not hate you, but I will not be your friend…I can’t not when you have stolen the one thing I wanted…love”

“I didn’t mean too”

“I know, and that’s why I don’t hate you…Robb is the one at fault here, not us…and yet I must face the burden of his mistakes, I must act for duty where he can act for love…if I hate anyone it is him”

She nodded in understanding.

You stood in silence, watching your babes as they fell to sleep, neither of you saying a word.

As most of your time was spent with her.

“would you keep them apart?” she spoke after moments.

“they are siblings, half or not…I would not keep them apart if they did not want to be”

“good” she smiled.

And yet that had changed.

The day she died, the bed fever taking her and yet she had asked for you as she suffered in pain.

“do not hate her” she breathed, “I do not ask you to love her…but please don’t hate her” “I won’t” you swallowed, a feeling of sadness washing over you.

“my mother- my mother will come for her…please don’t let her” she breathed heavily, “I want her with Robb…please” she coughed, her eyes drooping.

Robb barged back in the room, stopping the conversation. And moons later you could do little to respect her final words as her mother took Minisa, little as Robb command her gone, and even less as a weight began to lift of your shoulder.

You hated it, how easy it was to forgo a dying woman’s final words, but you had forced her mother to write to Robb and allow Minisa to write to Creagan. You would let them know there sibling even if they were an ocean apart.

Your marriage was a farce and the birth of your second child was all the proof you needed to show that.

A moon since Jon return and yet you had grown more closer to him in a moon than you had with your husband in six years.

Where Robb had left both times you went into labour, taking days to visit, Jon had held your hand through it all, and had been the first after you and the midwife to hold the babe.

If anyone saw you both, the way he was with you every day and night, sleeping in your rooms, albeit on a coat, it  would have been easy to assume he was your husband, especially with the way his gaze never left yours, his hand holding yours through your pains and never letting go, even after.

“What will you name him?” he asked, after you had finally been left alone, the babe cradled in his arm.

“Eddard, mayhaps” you started, though there was hesitation at the name, “I know Robb wanted to name…to name Minisa that is she were a boy”.

“So not Eddard” Jon spoke, handing the babe to you, he crouched to your side, “mayhaps Edric or Benjen?” he suggested, Benjen you assumed after his uncle.

You hummed, “Edric is a good name” tasting the name on your tongue, “Cregan and Edric”

“So, Edric Stark?” he spoke, tone soft as he gazed up at you.

“yes”

With the birth of your second, you deemed your Marriage officially over, you had given him and heir and a spare and even then, his sister Sansa had married Willis Tyrell and birthed her own sons, and Rickon had begun to court an Erena Glover. You were sure Robb would find no shortage of heirs and so was he. And he was more than content to let you be, ignoring your presence at any time bar feasts and officially Gatherings, or on occasion the few times he and you were in the same room with your children.

You and Jon however, your friendship had blossomed into so much more.

With lingering stares and casual touches, you felt your heart blossom in his presence.

no longer did you feel the chains of duty, no longer did the word duty fill your mind and taunt your nights.

Now the word love did.

Jon had been here six moons now and you were thoroughly and completely in love with him.

Your mind was always on him, you time spent with him or your children. Even Cregan and Edric spent more time with him than Robb.

Robb seemed to care little for the family, stuck in his own misery, misery he made himself and every effort to get out of it was half arsed and only done as a distraction with no true meaning to it.

But Love, you finally knew what it was, you felt it when Jon looked at you and when you looked at him and yet neither of you said it.

Neither of you were prepared to cross the line.

You were still married by law and in the eyes of the gods, and yet there was no marriage. Nothing of your marriage followed the meaning of the word.

Your heart belonged to Jon, you just needed to tell him.

A year into Jons homecoming and your fleeting romance though nothing ever was said or acted upon.

But now you stood under the weirwood tree, your heart bared to Jon.

“Jon” you whispered, his head in your lap, your hand running through his curls.

“yes?” he hummed, focusing his gaze away from the book he had been reading.

“I…I love you” you final spoke, after moons of feeling it, of the sheer desire for him and want to bare yourself to him. And yet you had waited, for what you did not know, but today, in this moment it felt perfect.

He smiled, a pure smile of joy at your words, as he quickly moved of your lap “I love you” he spoke in return, his face moving inches away from yours, your breaths becoming one for a moment before your lips where on his.

You had never kissed anyone before, even after all these years of marriage, only a small peck on your wedding day.

But this, a slow passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of your emotions, your love into it was so different than a small dutiful peck.

Your lips followed his movements, moving with his, as he pulled you into his lap. Your hands moving to his hair as you continued to kiss.

A low moan left you, only to be swallowed by Jon as he began to kiss you harder, more passionately.

“Jon” you whimpered, separating your lips from his.

His face chasing yours as you moved away.

“what is it?” he hummed, his hands caressing your sides.

“anyone could see us…” though the thrill of being caught was not lost on you, you were still a married woman, and your children’s legitimacy would be put into question if you were caught.

He hummed, “come with me” he spoke, moving you off his lap before standing a reaching for your hand.

You had thought you had explored the gods woods in its entirety, found every nook and cranny and yet it seemed a youth spent running the woods had allowed Jon to find a spot only years spent getting lost in the woods would allow you to find.

It was a small cave, covered in leaves and blocked off by trees and endless bushes.

A small whole a the top allowed the summer sun to shine through, lighting up the small space and to reveal a moss covered floor.

“we could go back to your rooms…or mine” he spoke, hesitantly, unsure if you would approve of his small little space. It was clear that he had been here a good few time, like this was his space away from everyone, and the basket sat in the corner was a clear indicator of it. With a blanket, a book and an old bottle of wine.

you turned to face him, “its fine…we can save a bed for another time” you said, before leaning up and pressing your lips to his once more, in a heated, sloppy kiss.

He slowly backed you into the wall as he kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist as he began to play the laces on the side of your dress.

You gently pushed him off you, sending him a teasing smile as you started to undress in front of him.

You had never been fully naked in front of anyone, not even Robb, something always stayed on, a barrier from truly being intimate.

And as Jon joined you, undressing himself and allowing you both to stand bare before the other, you had never felt more intimate. Never felt that a moment was more right.

With you sat upon the blanket, Jon moved towards you, caressing your face and leaning his body over yours.

Your eyes locked in a heated gaze as your lips modelled together in a heated, passionate kiss.

His body grinding against yours as his hands moved to cup your breasts.

“your beautiful” he spoke, placing soft kisses on your lips, before moving down your body towards your breasts and placing soft kisses around your nipple, before taking your breast in to his mouth, licking and sucking as he did.

You moaned as he alternated between your breasts, Your gripped his hair, tugging softly at each flick of his tongue.

“your perfect” he spoke once more, letting go of your breast, “I love you” he whispered before moving down your body and licked at your folds, causing you to whimper and moan even more.

Your hands found there way to his hair once more. And they always seemed to, you loved his hair, his curls, even more so now as the peeped out between your thigsh as he lapped at your cunt.

“Jon” you moaned, as you felt a pleasure your own fingers nor Robb had ever given you before, it was overwhelming, the sensation filling your senses as he continued to lick at your clit, and slowly brought his fingers to your entrance.

Groaning as his fingers entered your, he relished in the tightness of your cunt.

He continued to lap at your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you, licking at your heat as if he was a man starved and you were his last meal.

You felt your peak fast approaching, your hands gripping and tugging his hair harder, your legs wrapping around his head in away you were sure would choke him.

“JON!” you screamed as your peak finally hit your cunt clenching tightly around his fingers as you came.

You swallowed roughly as he moved up your body, taking your mouth with his in a possessive kiss, the taste of you evident on your tongue.

His hard cock was positioned between your thighs.

“can i?” he breathed against your lips.

“yes.” You breathed, and he finally entered you.

He slowly rocked his hips into yours, allowing you time to adjust to his cock.

After so long, with only your fingers, the feeling of a cock, of Jon was more than enough to send you over the edge as he became to thrust in and out of you, hi space moving picking up, as your legs wrapped around his waist.

He groaned into your neck, as your cunt tightened around him.

Your peak fast approaching.

“I’m going to cum” he moaned into you, as your cunt fluttered around his cock.

“gods” you moaned, your arms pulling hi closer to you, urging him to finish inside of you.

“where?” he breathed, his pace moving faster and faster as he chased his pleasure, as you came down from your own.

“Inside!” you moaned.

He looked at you unsure, but as your legs pushed in closer to you, your hands arms pulling you in as you urged him to cum, he let go and his seed filled you.

And a part of you hoped it took root.

Days blurred together as your affair blossomed.

You woke up and fell asleep in his arms every night. Every meal was shared. And you treated Jon like a husband, and you were treated as a wife.

Words of love and acts of affection was shared and no ounce of you regretted your actions.

Love.

The word circled his mind when he looked at you and Jon.

 Robb Stark, with all his faults and flaws, would be the first to admit he had ruined all chances of being a good husband the day he feel in love with Talisa, and now, when he had given himself into the desires of wanting you for a wife, of the comforts that came with it, he had gone and ruined it, worse than he ever could of imagined he would.

He was not cruel or cunning and yet too you he was.

To you he was a neglectful man, and absent father and a terrible husband.

He would be the first to admit that part was true.

But he was a good king, that had to account for something?

But now you had found love as he once had, but with his own brother and no part of him wanted to stop it, though he craved the idea of him in Jons place, as he was sure a part of Jon craved his own place.

He watched you both, how your eyes danced with one another in silent conversation only you both understood, how your hand was always touching him or his was always touching you.

That he thought he could live with, he himself a cheating husband. First a mistress now whores in brothels.

A wife having and affair with his brother was fine, as long as they were happy.                                                                      

Even after he had caught them in bed, or as she told him of the babe in her belly.

But then he started to watch you both carefully, how you interacted together in public and in private, of the makeshift marriage you had made, and of how Jon had become what he had failed at.

And he realised just how bad of a father he had become.

“father!” Cregan shouted in greeting, but not at him, at Jon.

He hadn’t even seen him, and had ran straight for Jon, who had swept him up in his arms and placed a kiss to his cheek.

It wasn’t his first time calling Jon father, and Robb was sure it wouldn’t be the last, not as you walked over, Edric in your arms, only for him to say “papa” at the sight of Jon.

He swallowed harshly, storming out of the room before they could see or hear him.

And he suffered the harsh reality that you once had, but this time, it was deserved.

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