#Sansa Stark imagine

[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

[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. 

[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.

[x-aefx]

The moment sansa stark became ✨Sansa Stark✨

[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

previous — Masterlist — next

♕ TAG LIST: @jasontoddorjasongrace @luluga @mizfortuna @ellathefriendlyalpacaaa @out-of-life @dark-night-sky-99 @graykageyama @lepoulpe-blog @s0urmarvel @singitoutgirl26 @buttercup-beeee @omega-horus @linkpk88 @millies0bsimp @ly17 @hydrationqueensworld @skinmittensgoblin @herfantasyworldd @burningshewolf @reneehillary69 @minttea07

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.”

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Adventures- Sansa Stark

Pairing: Sansa Stark x Reader

Characters: Sansa Stark

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 425

Author: Aaron

Sansa lay, sprawled and fatigued across the large deerskin rug that embellished the hardwood floor or her Winterfell abode as the close fire crackled and roared, and the winter storm threw hail on the large, thick windows.

“What do you want?” She asked as you peered your head around the heavy door, it had not taken Sansa long to befriend you, but as a lowly market trader the world of castle interiors and ornate embellishments was new to you, and far from your normal reality of splitting bread with your siblings and enticing patrons to your mother’s market stand.

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked, joining her in laying along the bedroom floor. “You are the daughter of Ned Stark, you have almost everything you could ever ask for, why are you moping around?” She rolled her head until your eyes met, she had a sheepish smile adorning her soft, pale lips.

“It really is not all that people think it is. Of course, we get nice things and I’m very grateful to not have to worry about food, or warmth or safety… for the most part anyway. But I crave a life past just lounging around the castle and attending boring social events. I want some fun and some adventure in my life.” She pushed herself up and leant against the frame of her large bed. “I’m not sitting here saying that I want to go and slay dragons and find ancient lost treasure. I just want to be able to explore what more to this world there is, right now I’m limited to the keep and I think me, and Arya have explored every inch of this our father will allow us to.”

“Me and my father often go on runs to the south so that we can purchase supplies for our wares. Maybe you can persuade your father to join us? It normally takes us a few days by horse and cart, but it’s hardly the most perilous journey. We are lucky to see any fauna past some deer, so you won’t come to any harm.”

“Even if my father did allow me to join, he would send men with us, enough to fill a small army. It would defy the point but thank you for the offer.” She rolled a small coin in her fingers and tossed it from palm to palm. “One day I will go on grand ventures all throughout the lands. For now I will just have to be content hearing my father’s stories from his own travels.

[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.

[dumbkiri]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡

𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗦𝗔 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗫 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘!𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

This story follows after the Dreamer of You series...hundreds of years later lol Basically the reader is the descendant of [Name]/Helaena. He's not the Prince that Was Promised though that will still be Jon/Dany (lowkey have no idea who it is, cut me some slack)

Also would you guys want to read in 2nd person (you) or 3rd person (Him) or 1st person (I)

The flames spoke to you. 

You never told anyone about the phenomenal voice or visions you received while looking into a source of light. A flame from a candle, a fire in the hearth or a blaze on a torch, they came to you easily like a dream. 

Go north. North. Go north. 

You heard a commanding voice urging you the same thing every moon for the past six that have come. This voice started speaking to you ever since you made your move into King’s Landing to check on your siblings. 

For the most part, you thought the stench of this wretched place poisoned your mind. Another part of you blamed your mother as your father told you she spoke nonsense on most days. She talked about the Wall and the cold winds that would break it. She spoke of flames dancing in the night sky and wandering people. 

Maybe she heard voices from the flames too. You could never know though because she died after she gave birth to you. 

You lifted your golden cup to your lips and drank the last sip of the warm wine. The bitter tang splashed onto your tongue and you set the cup back onto the table. Your mismatched eyes gazed into the fire across from you and the voice kept telling you to go north. 

But it never answered your questions about why or what was there.

Knock..knock.knockknockknock

“For the love of…” You trailed off and snapped at the person still banging their fist on your door, “Just walk in already!” 

The knocking stopped and the door opened up to reveal your brother surrounded by a group of whores. He danced his way into your room with the women following after him, their giggles clear as day. The women wore fine and revealing clothing, their curvy bodies being eaten up by hungry eyes belonging to a dwarf. 

You rolled your own eyes, definitely not in the mood to accompany whores or your drunken brother. 

“Tyrion, your chambers are next door,” You stood up with a stumble, the wine hitting you a little differently tonight. You held yourself up by gripping the back of your chair to steady yourself with some confidence. Then your eyes slowly moved up and down the beautiful bodies of the women that giggled some more from your attention. 

Tyrion looked over at you with an impish smile and gestures to the almost empty wine bottle on the table. His teasing voice getting the best of you, “I see that you’re enjoying some of my wine.” 

“What?” The world felt like it was spinning and you shook your head, “No, I got this from a servant. I’m sure they got it from the King’s reserve or something.” It was true, while walking around the castle you came across a servant holding this bottle and wanted to indulge in it while you stared aimlessly into the fire. 

Needless to say, you snatched it from his hands and ignored his stuttering protests. 

But the way Tyrion barked out a laugh and walked further into your chambers with the ladies trailing behind him left you with suspicion. He picked up the wine bottle and smiled at it like it had been his prized possession.  

“Nope, this is my personal bottle and that servant was supposed to deliver this to my chambers. When I asked them where that bottle went, he told me that you snatched it up without saying anything. By the way, how do you feel, little brother?” 

You thought hard about his question and kept your gaze on him, trying your best to ignore the whores who waited patiently for you to look at them again. The funny look on his face pushed you to lie through your teeth. 

“I feel pretty good, a little light-headed, but-” 

“This wine is special because there’s some aphrodisiac sprinkled in it and you drank nearly all of it while it should be shared amongst the ladies and the man.” Tyrion set the bottle back down and kept that stupid grin on his face. 

“You jest, brother,” You shook your head and a shiver ran down your spine that followed the light caress of a hand that belonged to one of the women. She giggled into your ear and said teasingly, “Your mane is all ruffled up, my lord.”

You backed away from her dangerous touch with haste and shook your head, “I’m not interested in your…services. I want all of you out of my chambers…now.” You pointed a glare at the women and they looked back at Tyrion for his word. After all, they were being paid by him, not you. 

“Oh, calm down, [Name],” Tyrion laughed and admired how well you kept your back straightened and guard up. Usually by now, he would be all over the women going round after round if he drank that much of the wine. But you had your claws out, ready to strike if another whore touched you, “it’s their job to entertain men like us. Pay little attention to my brother, he is very new to all of this.” 

He reassured the trio of whores and they nodded their heads, going back to their sinful nature. 

“Tyrion, I said I’m not interested. I will keep myself pure for my future lady. That is what-” 

The Red God commanded. Your words died out in your throat and you tiredly sighed, “Just go away. I’m not in the mood for games or sex with them.” 

Tyrion cleared his throat and gestured to your pants, “That’s not what your cock thinks. You seem very excited brother, just indulge a little. Father won’t mind if you’re looking for fun, you are so full of energy! Don’t waste it by staring into the fire all night! Come on, these lovely women are looking for fun too!” 

“I said no,” You repeated, looking away from him and the women. You could feel them inch closer to you, trying to force you to make the first move. 

“This one could bend backwards for you,” Tyrion slurred, “and these two…their mouths work wonders if you ask me. And they’re sisters! I always have a great time with them!” 

This is when you snapped. The tightening in your pants didn’t go away, the aphrodisiac too strong yet your will was stronger. “I said no!” With your shout, the fire in the hearth exploded into bright flames, the logs breaking into half and the crackle of flames burned with intense heat.

The intruders in your room looked from the fire to you with wide eyes. Like the outburst from you flared up the fire. 

“Now leave before I force you,” You commanded with a low growl, you moved past them and opened the door to your chambers. Then you kept your gaze on the wall watching the whores scurry out first with whispers about you and the fire. 

Tyrion cleared his throat and walked by saying, “You owe me a new bottle, brother. Hope you have fun pleasing yourself alone, you got a lot to work with.” 

You shut the door behind him with a flustered look and kicked yourself mentally for your body reacting to the women. Thankfully the fire incident spooked the group of them to follow your demand. If they stayed any longer, you probably would have resorted to violence. 

Then you turned your attention to the fire, the voice speaking to you again: 

North. Go North. Go. 

You rubbed your tired eyes and agreed silently to the command. If the Red God wants you to go north, you will go. Fortunately, your queen sister and the royal family are making their way up there. You could hitch a ride next to Jaime and figure out the rest from there since you got nothing else from the voice in  the fire.

[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:

[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.