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wandering-scavenger · 3 years

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Chapter 7 Update

A Lady of Winterfell (Game of Thrones Regency AU)

Main pairing: Jon/Sansa

Side pairings: Arya/Gendry, Robb/Jeyne Westerling, Tormund/Brienne

Rating: E

Read here

Ahhh I know I'm 5 years late, I hope I can make up for it!

Sneak Preview

“I’m afraid that I haven’t the faintest clue when it comes to purchasing clothes for a lady, but I know how well you play the pianoforte. I had hoped that we might hear you play…or sing…I mean…only if it would please you to do so.” he sputtered out towards the end, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously; he did not seem to take notice of the way it crumpled his collar, concerned instead by her lack of a response.

Although his present was well intentioned and thoughtful, she could not help but wonder if he thought that she was still the same girl that thought life was a song. ‘Life is not a song’ she thought to herself, but she could not allow the reality of their circumstances cast a shadow on tonight. Tonight would be a respite from yesterday and tomorrow.

Sansa smiled and reached to straighten out his starched collar. By the time she had realised what she was doing, her fingers were pinched over the fabric and Jon looked as though he had been holding his breath. She retracted her hand instantly and breathed out, “There was a crumple.” He released his own breath and nodded, his hand reaching back to feel the collar, “Thank you.”

“I would be happy to play a few songs. It has been a long time since I have last sung…thank you, Jon. Truly.” she said, her eyes resting on his own. His lips twitched ever so slightly, not quite like the smiles that he gave Arya, but she knew that he was glad to hear her words of gratitude. Just as he moved to return to his place next to their sister, the sound of closing doors echoed through the halls, followed by Robb’s hurried footsteps back to where they waited.

“The New Year is upon us!” he exclaimed, his face alight with glee. He rushed to scoop Lady Jeyne into a tight embrace as the siblings all stood to greet one another. As the designated pianist and designated violinist, Sansa and Bran settled themselves by the pianoforte and began to play Old Lang Syne. Her siblings joined her as she sang, not quite as melodic or harmonized as one might prefer, but they were together and that was enough.

#Jon x Sansa #Jonsa #ao3 fanfic #Regency au #jonsa fandom #jonsa fic #Sansa x Jon #got fic #Otp: stone and snow #Otp: I'll protect you #Otp: where will we go #actuallyjonsa #jonxsansaff

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a-baleful-howl · 3 years

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A Baleful Howl Chapter 5 is now up!

A Baleful Howl by Damdamfino on AO3

Total Words: 28,563

Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV)

Relationship: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark

Additional Tags: Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Eventual Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Might as well have a 50ft fuse slow burn, cameo appearances - Freeform, Getting to know you, Implied/Referenced Incest, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kind-of Slice of Life?

Summary: Sansa and Jon's victory for Winterfell brought with it the responsibility of The North and the survival of it's people. Now they are faced with the questions of who are their enemies, who are their allies, and whether two broken wolves can become a pack. Will they work together to overcome their personal demons and perhaps find solace in their pain or will revenge and duty jeopardize everything? [Picks up right after BotB.]

Direct Link to Chapter 5: Nightmares (a whopping 8,000+ words)

This Chapters Song

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Whats this? A single chapter update after 3 years? Yes. I am that bitch. No beta readers - we die like men.

I couldn’t get my chapter art to look how I wanted it in my head - so if any Jonsa artists out there are taking commissions right now, hit me up.

#my fic #my fics #abh #a baleful howl #fic update #jon x sansa #jonsa #jonxsansafanfic #jonxsansafanfiction #jonxsansaff #jonxsansa

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amymel86 · 4 years

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He should either look away or interrupt this improper little meeting, he knows. For some unfathomable reason, he does neither. The two look far too intimate for Jon’s liking, although he feels he should have come to expect it to be so. A romantic like Sansa – however proper she is – would simply adore overt flirtations and a secret tête-à-tête. Even from where he stands, Jon can see the way in which she has stars set in her eyes like precious cut stones. He only hopes the man for whom they shine is deserving of it.

***

Cousin Jon is to inherit Winterfell Manor and its estate after the untimely death of his uncle leaves a widow and two daughters. Sansa is expectant of an imminent proposal from her dear beau, Harrold Hardyng and everything will be absolutely, stunningly, utterly fine.

a perilous dance indeed (part 1 of 2)

A Regency/Georgian jonsa au and late birthday gift for @vivilove-jonsa ❤

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #jonxsansaff #regency au #georgian au #austen au

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theshipshipper · 4 years

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what do we learn when we’re lost? | a jonsa soulmate au

Chapters: 3/3 Words: 17500 AO3 LINK Music Playlist

Preview:

The pain comes sharp and instantaneous, hitting her with a force that throws her off balance. It comes blow after blow. One to her stomach, to her leg, to her back.

One right through her chest.

"Sansa, what's wrong?"

She feels light-headed; unfocused. One moment she's dancing in the middle of the dance floor and then falling on it the next.

She feels Margaery's hand come around her, pulling her up from the ground.

It's much too loud where she is, much to chaotic. "I need... air," she gasps out, clutching at her friend's arm like a lifeline.

"Okay. Let's get outta here," Marg agrees worriedly, tugging her away from the thick of the crowd and towards the exit.

Margaery leads her outside, almost carrying half her weight. The air is cool on her skin, her surroundings quieter. She tries to inhale but she finds it hard to breathe. Like she's running out of air somehow. She tries to breathe in and out, tries to calm her mind. It doesn't work; the pain is too sharp to keep her focus. She wants to collapse. Wants to shut her eyes and let it all end.

"No, no, no," she cries out, shaking her head, reaching for Marg again to keep herself balanced.

The thoughts are not her own, just as the pain isn't hers, either.

She shut her eyes, trying to reach him somehow.

Jon, she begs him to hear her, but she knows he wouldn't, so she makes him feel it instead. Just as she's feeling his pain, she makes him feel her strength. Lends it to him. Fight it.

A new wave of pain wash over her, stronger than the last. And she knows it's meant to be a response. It's too much.

She let out a sob, falling on the ground once more as the pain intensifies. Marg is saying something to her, her face full of concern and fear, but Sansa can't hear what it is that she says, there's only the ringing in her ears and the grief settling deep within her chest.

She feels weak, her mind a blur. Like everything is falling away into the void; into nothingness.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonxsansaff #actually jonsa #jonsa soulmate au

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thelegendofclarke · 5 years

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Tipping the Velvet by @amymel86

Sansa flushed, not quite sure what Margaery had meant by that. Her attention was then taken by two gentlemen making their way through the crowd towards the punch bowl... “Who is that?” she almost whispered, feeling her satin gloved hand come up to lightly touch her collarbone.

“Some lucky fellow piqued your interest, darling?” Margaery smirked, taking back the offered glasses and peering through them. “The Targaryens?” She lowered the opera glasses and raised one perfect brow as she turned to face Sansa. “Good breeding, old name, if we set a contract with the eldest, Aegon, you’ll be rather comfortable. Unfortunately, I’ve no knowledge of the man himself or his appetites in the bedroom, so I’m unable to guide you there, my dear.”

“Which one is the eldest?” Sansa asked, her eyes trained on the dark-haired Targaryen.

“The one with the dashing silver hair.”

“Oh.”

Sansa felt Margaery’s eyes on her again. “You favour the spare over the heir? As a woman of business, I should advise you against it and turn you towards a more lucrative arrangement... but as a woman of pleasure, I say there’s nothing wrong with a bit of fun.”

A Jon/Sansa Victorian Era Au in which gentleman Jon gets dragged into a fancy social function and somehow manages to walk out as courtesan Sansa’s newest benefactor.

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angmarwitch · 4 years

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tonbo (dragonfly)

Jon x Sansa Kimetsu no Yaiba (Demon Slayer) AU

Summary: "In the end, she was a pillar..."

A/N: First of all, happy, happy birthday to my dearest friend @fromtheboundlesssea. I’m truly grateful to have you as a friend. Thank you so much for expanding the What If fics that I really want to write (but I can’t cause honestly, my writing sucks these days and I can’t simply finish a multi-chap fic) and for the times when I can’t check your work on time because I am always busy. Also, thank you for being there. <3 I know you’re unfamiliar with this anime but I hope you’ll still enjoy (even if the ending is a bit angsty).

For the readers, this is probably the first jonsa fic I’ve written in months. I’m still feeling bummed about Season 8 and my disappointment is hindering me from writing. I’m really sorry. I don’t know if any of you are familiar with KNY but I tried to make it as understandable as possible.

For the fans of the series, this is inspired by Giyuu and Shinobu (I love their relationship & dynamics). But be warned, this contains spoilers from the manga.

Enjoy!

Warning: Angst, Character Death, Spoilers from the Manga

There was no rule, spoken or written, that prohibits them from falling in love. Some of the Pillars (basically generals) from the previous generations, even retire to settle down and start a family of their own, shedding off the burden of being in the front lines to protect the innocent people that the demons feasted upon. However, from all the tragedy that had befallen the Lady of the Dragonfly Estate, she had learned to bar her heart from ever feeling such kind of emotion.

Despite the joy and seemingly carefree facade she puts up each day, there was no trace of happiness in her heart. The moment that her sister, the last remnant of her biological family, died, all the joy that she once felt slowly dissipated, leaving her heart void of any emotions except for anger. And the giddy persona that she had put up was her mask, her way of keeping the fury at bay. Of course, she wasn’t entirely incapable of feeling other emotions, she can still sympathize with others and understand what they are going through, it’s just that she can’t simply grasp the idea of being happy and falling in love after all that she went through.

But, in the end, she realized that she was just human.

She was clueless as to how or when it happened. But it did.

Someone had managed to thaw the ice that had frozen Sansa Stark’s heart and weaved away inside.

“Oh, darling,” Margaery had crooned so sweetly when Sansa confessed the burden that had weighed her mind for a while now, “it is not wrong to love.”

Naturally, Margaery would be the only person who would comprehend Sansa’s predicament, she was the Love Pillar after all. But her being so perceptive about love was not why Sansa approached her in the first place. Their comrades will never get it, them being male, and she could not tell them lest the secret comes out. Jeyne, her chosen successor, was still too young to grasp the concept and she does want to bother the Master with such trivial matters. Margaery could keep a secret and she was the only thing close to a sister and a motherly figure to Sansa.

“But we are pillars…” in the end it’s either we survive or die.

Margaery’s gaze softened, her delicate hand reached out to Sansa’s own and squeezed it gently.

“All the more reasons why you should act on what you feel. Our lives are fleeting, and we never know when or where we will die. Do you truly want to accept death without ever knowing how it feels to love and to be loved?”

“I…” Sansa paused, unaware of how to respond. She had spent all her life fighting, finding a way to avenge the family and the sister she lost to the Night King and Littlefinger, and she had never once considered this possibility. Her eyes dropped down and the feeling of sadness assaulted her senses. She hated that she had become emotional because of love. But she can’t deny the fact that she was also craving for what it has to offer, both the bliss and pain.

Nevertheless…

“Tell him, Sansa,” Margaery urged, “ Jon deserves to know that you return his affections.”

The packet looked innocent and harmless to humans but one dose was enough to incapacitate a demon, ten was required to kill one. A year’s supply, however, was what it takes to take down one of the Upper Generals of the White Walker demons.

“You don’t have to do this,” Lady Melisandre implored, “there are other ways in which you can defeat Littlefinger and they won’t cost you your life.”

Sansa eyed the vial warily before swallowing all of its contents. For humans, wisteria does not pose any dangers or risks, and the poisonous compound that she had just ingested was almost similar to eating a powdered sugar. It was sweet. So very sweet…

“I have made up my mind long ago,” Sansa responded indifferently. She knows her biggest foe by heart. Littlefinger had always been so obsessed to get her and being the only Pillar who can’t decapitate a demon, this was the only way she can defeat him. She had altered her own body and changed her physiology to contain a huge amount of wisteria. This was what she had worked all her life and nothing could ever change her mind.

The victory will be hers and the death of her family will finally be avenged.

“I understand,” Melisandre conceded giving her a look of understanding and pity. Sansa does not need it. Yes, all of them may have suffered under the hands of the Night King and his demons but they will never get what she had gone through. All those nightmares, the pain, and the suffering that plagued her for years.

She gave their new ally a bow before standing up to leave. She was about to reach the door when Melisandre spoke up again, this time with a question she was not expecting.

“And what about the Water Pillar? Is his love not a reason for you to live?”

The memory of the event that happened ten months prior to replayed in her mind. Two different scenarios with two different women she had come to admire.

Yet, in the end, the response is the same.

Slowly, Sansa lifted her head and when their eyes met, Margaery could see tears unshed.

From the window of his house, Jon could see the incoming crow and there was something about its approach that bothered the young pillar. He had been recovering from his injuries from the injuries he had sustained from his last mission when he sensed its approach. So despite his body’s protest for him to continue laying down, he went and opened a window to watch the bird enter his vicinity.

Dark wings, dark words, were the words his Master would always say whenever a crow is sent out. Their crow familiars had always been the harbinger of news, both the good and the bad.

Today’s message was either summons from the new head of the Bloodravens, the family that leads their organization, or it may be news from the North about his comrades. He had not heard from them while he was recovering so he braced himself for the worst.

He waited for the crow to announce the news it brought as it flew in the sky, instead, the crow took a plunge towards him. Jon was taken aback with surprise and alarm. It was very unusual for their messengers to do that when delivering the word. When the crow finally reached him, Jon felt dread creep in his heart as he saw the parchment tied on one of its legs. It must be very serious that it needed to be written. With shaking hands, he removed it and slowly unfurled the paper to see its contents.

He immediately recognized Margaery’s flowery script.

She loved you, Jon. I’m sorry, it read. His eyes ran over the text several times, not fully discerning what it meant. His heartbeat increased tenfold the longer he stared at it.

I don’t understand.

“Dead,” the crow cawed suddenly, jolting him from his daze. There was something heart-wrenching about the way it spoke the words. It was then that he noticed the red ribbon with the dragonfly print strapped on its neck. His eyes widened and the parchment fell from his grasp when the realization had sunk in.

“No,” he gasped, fervently shaking his head as he backed away from the window. He covered his ears, refusing to hear any more of what the crow has to say.

No…

“Dead,” it cried again, ascending higher into the night sky, “Sansa Stark is dead.”

#jon x sansa #jonsa #kny au #got fic #jon snow x sansa stark #fromtheboundlesssea #angst #tw: character death #please don't hate me #i'm kinda proud that i was able to write #my first fic in months #jon x sansa fanfiction #jonxsansaff #jonxsansafanfiction #demon slayer au

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jonsansadaily · 5 years

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Sober (2569 words) by Sansa_Stark_Snow Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark Characters: Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Joffrey Baratheon, Margaery Tyrell Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Mild Smut Summary:

Sansa's busy drowning her sorrows over her failed relationship until Jon Snow shows up and takes her mind off it.

#jonxsansaff #jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa au #jon snow #sansa stark

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fedonciadale · 5 years

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Don’t know if you read fanfics but if you do, could you post some recommendations? Thanks!

Dear nonny,

I answer this together with this ask:

Hi! Do u have any Castle Black Jonsa fic recs? Everything was so much more simple and pure back then and I need a break. Thanks!!!

I do read fics, but I haven’t for some time, because I was just too busy. I do like reading fic as well and I also write (same name on AO3). One long fic is almost finished apart from the epilogue which I’ll try to finish on the weekend (just to do some shameless self promoting)

I am just glad we just spoke about recs in the Jonsa chat.

@flibbertigiblet is also on AO3 and has a very well organised bookmark list - which is a blessing.

If you want to go for sexy and funny I’d recommend anything by @amymel86; there are many many fics by queenofthebees [edit: @captainbee89] , @queenalysansa has a variety of great fics often canonwise, @athimbleful has two wonderful long fics that are finished, @scullylikesscience has “Winter under cultivation” [edited for the right title] - a great long fic and she recently said, that she’ll write at it again; there is also @ladystarks. If you like a pretty dark Jon I would recommend @what-would-wonderwoman-do (janina on AO3), DarkJon is not my cup of tea, but if you are into it, you will immensely enjoy these fics @jonsasnow has nice modern aus, and @everythingjonsa has also a nice slow-burn modern au (with a cute, cute Jonsa child).

This list is in no way exhaustive and since it has been some time that I read fic with time, it might also be a bit outdated. I also have the feeling that these rec lists tend to be a bit unfair, because the lesser known writers will not get recced that much. @athimbleful‘s fic ‘They tumble down’ is the Jonsa fic with the highest kudos count (and possibly one of the highest counts in the Got fandom), I think, and people will stumble upon it when they search by kudos. And of course many people know it and will rec it. I just wish D&D had read it and plagiarised her fic to write season 8…. That would have been miles and miles above the standard of season 8….

Anyway, I encourage the Jonsa fandom to add to my list, to mention some writers that are not so well known and I would encourage you to look into the more than 5,000 fics on AO3. The search function there is a wonder and I chanced upon some gems, just by randomly opening tabs. And Jonsa fic writers are incredibly good. There were only a few I didn’t like at all, and I am quite picky….

And that reminds me, that I should really bookmark the fics I like. I usually leave comments, when I read a fic, but I don’t know if you can search another user’s comments.

As for Castle Black I recommend “The blue vial”. (I have forgotten the author). That is really, really hot stuff.

Edit: How could I forget the Red Riding Hood AU by @kitten1618x!

Thanks for the ask, and Jonsa fam, just add to this list!

#anon ask #Jonsa #Lovely Jonsa fandom #Jonxsansaff #Fic rec

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winterwakesthewolf · 3 months

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Wolves They Both Must Be

Jon Snow x Sansa Stark

Summary: “Did you bend the knee to save the North, or because you love her?”

Jon snaps his head up at Sansa’s question. Her eyes are brimming and hot and he can suddenly see this is not the argument he thought they were having. This is something else. Something deeper and much more intimate.

The missing scene we deserved in 8x01

Author's Note: Part Two! I wrote this second part a few years ago and I really think I've grown as a writer since then. Since this part has never been published, I had the opportunity to edit it, but I read through it and honestly I'm too tired to do that so if there are any glaring issues, please let me know.

I first published the first part of this as a one shot on AO3 in 2019 and then a few years later I wrote a sequel that just sat in my google docs collecting digital dust. This is that second part. I may turn it into a series if there's enough interest so please let me know by liking, commenting, and reblogging if you want more.

Disclaimer: 18+, smut, (I'm serious, if you're not over 18 then scram), cousin incest, presumed half-sibling incest. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 2K

part one - part two

Sansa wakes in his arms, bare skin against skin. It is still night. Or perhaps early morning. The fire has nearly extinguished, leaving them mostly in the dark but for a faint flickering of illumination that casts the room in a soft, warm glow. She glances up at him, sound asleep and looking more peaceful than she has ever seen him look. His arm strewn lazily across her back. And his heart, that he had said was only hers, steadily beating beneath her ear.

She lifts her head to peek at the scar there and she runs her fingers along the ridges of the severed flesh - a long, vertical line, curved at the top and still red in the center. Similarly to the scars that marr his abdomen, they look to not be fully healed. Sansa wonders if they may never be. Her heart aches at the thought that his own had once stopped beating.

Gazing at his resting face in awe and bewilderment at the magic it took to bring him back to life, and to her, she sheds a tear for all that could have been lost, and all that will.

His raven curls, unbound and tangled, lay atop her pillow. Her belly coils with heat at the memory of her hands pulling at the leather strap that tied them back, at the image she conjures of him raised above her, glowing from the light of the roaring fire, and the look in his eyes as he buried himself inside of her, their flesh fusing in forbidden, long-awaited bliss. Her cheeks bloom with both shame and pleasure at the thought of their union. At her insistence that he spill inside of her and stay there long after both of their pleasures were drawn out, knowing in the morning she would brew a cup of moon tea that she had hidden away from the time before.

The gods had been cruel to make her love her half-brother. They had been kind enough to make him love her back.

In her solar he had confessed that he loved her, and only her. And how loathed he was to leave her for Dragonstone. That when he declared, in the presence of their bannermen, that the North was a part of him and that he’d never stop fighting for it, what he had meant in his heart was that she was his North. He admitted that every moment they were apart, she never once left his thoughts. And that everything he had done in the effort to return home truly was to save the North. To save her. His whispered words had sent shivers through her. Both the declaration of his love, and the thought of what kinds of things he had to do to return home to her.

She doesn’t want to think of what all that had entailed. Or what had transpired in the dark between him and the dragon to make her believe he truly bent the knee, and that he loved her. But Sansa wants to trust him and believe the words he told her in the quiet of her bed as he entwined his hand in hers. As he gently stroked his calloused fingers over her bare skin, leaving gooseprickles in their wake.

“I had to make her believe in the ruse, Sansa. I’m not proud of it,” he had rasped, eyes averted from Sansa’s gaze until she reached for him, turning his face so that she could look upon him. He released a shaky breath and croaked, “I’d beg for your forgiveness if you’re willing to give it. But I understand if it’s too much to ask. I wouldn’t blame ye. But I must confess, I thought of you. Every second.”

Jon had fought battles for Sansa, had fought Ramsey knowing the odds were against him. He fought the Others, and survived to come back to her. He had lied, manipulated, and kept the secret hidden away so convincingly, so deep, that even Sansa had not seen it.

(Her feelings for Jon surely clouded her judgment, causing her to doubt his loyalty).

She doesn’t want to think of what he may have to continue to do to keep up the ruse, or what they both may need to sacrifice. But Sansa knows that whatever it may be, she will do whatever she can to protect him, as he has done for her.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she whispered. And she had meant it.

Lying in the dark beside him she knows she will always mean it, no matter how much the thought of it stings. No matter the ache that blooms at the unbidden image of Jon with her. He had not truly been Sansa’s to lose then, but now… what were they to each other now? Now that they had crossed the point of no return.

Their love could never be known to any other. This secret they will always have to hide. If they were discovered it could lead to ruin and damnation. Northerners do not accept a union between siblings, no matter that they don’t share a mother. They were no Lannisters, nor Targaryens, and yet their illicit love seemed to prove otherwise. After all that she had learned, had worked so hard to not become, had she turned into Cersei after all? The thought makes her shiver and recoil.

Perhaps she need not fret over any of it, for the Others are marching upon them. The threat looming, heavier with each passing moment. They may very well take this secret to a grave that lies just beyond the horizon. Lost to each other forever. And yet the thought of that terrifies her more than any possibility of their secret love being sussed out.

Jon stirs beneath her and flutters his eyes open, blinking to adjust to the dim light, and then he lowers his chin toward Sansa. His eyes soften as they land on her and he gives her a smile, sweet and tender, reaching his hand to gently tuck her tangled hair behind her ear.

“We fell asleep,” he says with a voice gruff and tender as he absentmindedly traces patterns on the small of her back.

“We did.”

“I’d better sneak off to my chambers before anyone realizes where I am.”

Sansa didn’t want this night to end. What had been their first union could very well be their last.

As he moves to get up, Sansa gently pushes him back down to press her body and her lips as close to his as possible. The kiss, at first soft and slow, builds with passion, and desperation to stop time. Before long Jon has rolled Sansa onto her back and hovers over her just as before, looking down on her in wonderment and adoration. The look behind his eyes like an arrow of fire in her belly, and a need coils itself deep inside, begging to be met.

“Jon,” she pleads wantonly, reaching up to grasp his face in her hands, digging her fingers into his beard, weaving them in his hair. A frantic, desperate plea. He obliges, first by trailing kisses down her neck and to her breasts, spending time filling his mouth with them and driving that coil deeper and hotter inside of her, making her ache with need. And then he abruptly stops, pushes the furs farther off of the bed, until he is sitting at her feet, smiling with hooded eyes. The look she gives him of confused anticipation makes him chuckle.

“Why are you laughing?” Sansa sounds a bit wounded, but smiles all the same.

“I’m not laughin’ at ye, Sansa. I swear,” he raises his palms as if in surrender. “But I want to try something if you let me.” Jon tenderly places his hands upon her knees, “Do you trust me?”

Sansa nods apprehensively, curiously, and watches as he spreads her legs apart and lowers his head, all while keeping his eyes locked onto hers. Kissing her knees and thighs in turn, he slowly travels higher and higher until his hands are gripping the flesh of her hips and his mouth is on her, licking the wetness between her thighs. It takes everything in Sansa not to cry out. Her heavy sighs alone are nearly loud enough for anyone outside of her door to hear. Jon’s tongue swirls and flicks at the most sensitive part and she has never felt a pleasure so intense. It rivals the pleasure she felt just hours ago when he touched her there as he spent inside of her. This was different and new and thrilling. She climbs higher and higher as his tongue works its magic, pushing her to the brink. And just as she is about to fall off the edge, Jon reaches up to take her breast in hand, his thumb grazing and teasing until she plunges off of the precipice and buries her face in the furs to muffle her cries.

When the throbbing and the panting subsides, she glances at Jon, a very smug look upon his face, “Did ye like that?”

Sansa smiles and nods lazily, still catching her breath, and she reaches for him with arms outstretched. He climbs up and kisses her deep and long, the taste of her still on his lips, and she can feel his need for her lined up at the spot his tongue had just deliciously ravaged. And suddenly she can feel the need inside her return in earnest. Those glorious flutters assault her belly as she wraps her legs around his waist and backside, pulling him close, inviting him in again.

When he buries himself inside her once more, he keeps his eyes focused on hers, whispers a thousand I love yous that she returns in earnest, savoring the feeling of him so close to her as they find a slow and deliberate rhythm.

Both of them know this might be their last and neither of them are quick to chase the pleasure out, but are intent on committing these precious few moments to memory. Tears stream down Sansa’s temples, sprung from somewhere deep and buried. Jon gently kisses them away.

“I am yours, Sansa. Only yours.” He touches his forehead to hers, “And you are mine.” It is half a question, half a command.

“Always,” she whispers and repeats again and again as she falls from the edge and he spills inside of her once more.

The dawn arrives, creeping in through the window, as Jon dresses as quietly as he can. And once he has pulled his boots on he crosses back to the bed where Sansa is sitting, holding her knees and the furs close. She is cold without his warmth. He must sense it because he leans over to pull her close, bringing the furs with her, to the edge of the bed. He gently takes her face in his hands as she memorizes the look in his eyes. Kissing her sweetly, with such care and reverence, then envelops her in his arms for a long embrace.

Sansa buries her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him, heavy with leather and steel and woodsmoke. She curls herself into his chest. And as she listens to the beating of his heart beneath her ear once again, she doesn’t even attempt to hold back the tears anymore. Releasing the ache of the joy, and the tragedy, of it all.

“Never forget, Sansa. Whatever happens, know that I love you,” he whispers in her ear, holding her close, running his fingers through her copper waves.

And before dawn can unearth their secret, he moves to kiss her forehead with a desperation and reverence that burns long after he reluctantly pulls away. He stalks toward the door, and then looks back at her with a smile full of hope and fear before slipping into the cover of darkness.

Alone and cold without him, Sansa weeps upon the furs that warmed them through the winter night. Tears that she has denied for so long finally tumble free and flow without ceasing. They pour out uncontrollably, as though Jon had unlocked a deeply buried chest within her, filled to the brim with love she had for so long confined to the darkest parts of her, and fear of losing what has only briefly been hers.

She finds that once unlocked she may never again find the key.

Taglist: @thaisthedreamer @bluedaffodil21 @ilargizuri

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fanfic #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa fic #jonsa ff #jon x sansa fic #mine #my edit #my writing #wolves they both must be #wtbmb #jonsaff #jonxsansaff #jonxsansa #jon x sansa fanfic #jon x sansa fanfiction #jon x sansa ff #jonxsansa ff

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azulaahai · 5 years

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@jonxsansafanfiction’s Love Songs: Day 2

#jonxsansaff #jon x sansa #jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jonsaedit #my

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throne-of-games · 5 years

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For Day 5 of the Jonsa Valentine’s Love Songs Event - A Modern Royalty AU

I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston

@jonxsansafanfiction

“Please don’t.” Her words were small, quiet, uncharacteristically so. Like a whisper on the wind. She wouldn’t even raise her eyes to look at him, but he knew she knew. It had taken but one look at his face. That’s how well she understood him.

Standing on the front steps of the palace, they could clearly hear the festivities occurring inside. The ball had been thrown in honor of the happy couple; an engagement party for Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell and Prince Willas Tyrell of Highgarden.

He’d been invited, as had hundreds of others but had only come out of a masochistic need to see it with his own eyes. And when he had, he’d known what to do, what the right thing was.

Theirs had always been a complicated relationship, almost like gravity—breaking apart only to be pulled back together again. Inevitable was the word he’d used to describe them once upon a time. But something had always gotten in the way whether it be his insecurities or her stubbornness or the very world itself.

Then she had met Willas, the golden prince of her childhood and her life had become a living fairy tale and when she’d gotten engaged she’d come to him—shaky hands trying to cover the diamond on her finger that tormented him like something terrible come straight from a nightmare, until it was all he could see—and asked him what to do. Tell me what to do. Please. If you want this, if you really do then I’ll—

He had heard once that when you loved someone you wanted the best for them and when you were in love with someone you wanted them for yourself. Jon Snow loved and was in love with Sansa, always caught between wanting her desperately and wanting what would make her happiest even if that happened to not be him.

Jon wanted to reach out and touch her, lift her chin to look into her beautiful eyes, so blue you could drown in them, and he had—oh, he had—many a times before. But instead he kept his hands safely tucked away in his pockets, fists clenched so hard his knuckles ached. “You always said you would be a princess one day.”

“Yes, and you always said that was stupid.”

“I know,” he said, smile rueful, “I’m sorry for that. I was afraid because I knew you would be some day and then you’d truly be out of my reach.”

“But I wasn’t, I’m not. I’m right here.” She took a tentative step closer as if to prove it.

“We’re at your engagement party, Sansa.” His words were gentle and yet she reacted as if he’d shouted them.

“I came to you. I begged you to tell me what to do. You didn’t—” she broke off, suddenly, a hitch in her voice. “You didn’t say anything, you just…let me walk away.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“If that’s true then why are you here?” she demanded.

Because I couldn’t stay away. Because I had to see you one last time. Because I’m a weak, selfish bastard.

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re lying.”

Jon sighed, long and deep. “Willas—you’re happy with him. I can see it. You deserve to be happy.”

“You make me happy.”

“I’m not…good for you.” Not good enough.

“That’s not true,” she protested weakly, as if she knew the battle was already lost.

“I can’t be selfish anymore. Not with you. I need to let you go. And you need to let go.”

Her bottom lip trembled and it took everything in him not to go to her. “I can’t.”

“You can, Sansa. You can be happy with Willas, in Highgarden. You know you can. That’s why I need to step back.”

She shook her head, the tears falling freely now and Jon wanted so badly to take it all back, to tell her there could never be anyone else for him, to lace his fingers through hers so they could run from this place and he could spend the rest of his days loving her.

But he would choose her happiness over his every time and so instead, he said nothing.

“It won’t change anything,” she whispered. His beautiful, sweet, stubborn girl. “I will always love you.”

Jon smiled sadly. “And I will always love you.”

Sansa took a shaky breath, wet eyelashes fluttering and with a last look at his face, turned around and walked back into the palace. Jon watched her go, a sick hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach that made it difficult to breathe. This is the right thing, this is the right thing, this is the right thing.

If happiness for her was a crown and Willas Tyrell far away in Highgarden, he would not stand in her way. He might not be able to give her all that he wanted, all that she deserved, but he could give her this.

With a heaviness in his chest, Jon turned his back all the while knowing he was leaving his heart behind him, encased in marble and gold and walked off into the night.

#sfw #jonsa #jon x sansa #jon snow x sansa stark #jonxsansaff #actuallyjonsa #actually jonsa #jonsa edits #jonsa fic #jon snow #sansa stark #jonsa valentine's day event #inspired by that one chuck/blair scene from gossip girl #modern royalty au #modern au #angst galore #cause i love it #see you all in therapy

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acourtofhopeanddreams · 5 years

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In Whatever Time We Have

Written for day 8 of @jonxsansafanfiction Love Songs based on the song "In Whatever Time We Have" from the musical Children of Eden

The army of the death is marching upon Winterfell and Jon knows that the time has come to fight or die. But before he can face death, there are a few things he has to confess. And they're all about Sansa.

Canon Divergence / Canon Compliant

He felt it. He didn’t know how and he didn’t know why, but he felt it. He felt it in his bones. He felt it in his soul. He felt it in his heart.

They were coming.

The army of the death was coming.

They could be here tomorrow. They could be here in a few days or a week. But they were coming and there was no one to stop them.

No one but them.

“It’s time.” Jon took a deep breath and stood up from his seat. He straightened his back and lifted his chin. He still wasn’t used to being king, but he had watched Ned and hoped that looking as much like him as possible would be enough. “The white walkers are marching upon us and we are all that stands between them and Westeros.” He spoke slowly. “Right now it’s not about who will end up on the iron throne. It’s simply about who will survive.”

There was nothing but absolute silence, but when he looked at Sansa, sitting firmly on his right, she nodded.

“Tonight love your husbands, love your wives and kiss your children goodnight. Tomorrow we’ll show the death what we’re made of.”

The crowd in front of him started cheering and Jon felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Maybe he wasn’t used to being a king, but he was used to fight and to command an army. He could do this. He would do this.

“Winter is coming, but the North will endure!” Jon raised his voice. “For Winterfell!” He let his glance wander over all the people who had pledged their loyalty to him while they left the great hall to enjoy their possible last day on earth.

And only when there was nothing but utter silence and he and Sansa were the only ones left he fell down in his seat and allowed the weight of the upcoming war to crush him.

“Jon…” Sansa placed a hand on his. Her touch was gentle and light and her voice was soothing. “You should take your own advice and spend time with the people you love tonight, saying goodbye.” She almost choked on the last word and Jon’s hand went through his dark black curls.

“I know.” He’d have to say goodbye to Sam, to Bran, to Arya. He’d have to say goodbye to Sansa. He’d have to say much more to Sansa. It could be his very last chance. Maybe he would die tomorrow, or next week, or somewhere in between. Maybe he could never tell her anymore.

But he didn’t know where to start. He had never been much of a talker, not when it came to his wishes, longings and feelings. He had never been much of a talker when it came to love.

But he wasn’t the only one who didn’t move.

“Jon?” Sansa was the first to break the silence. “I know that I wasn’t always nice to you when we were kids.” Her lips curled up into a sad smile. “But you’re an amazing king. Father, Robb…” She hesitated for a moment. “They would be really proud of you and how far you’ve come.”

He glanced at the girl next to him, speaking as if they were not children simply pretending to be kings and queens. “It will all be pointless if we lose.”

“No, it won’t.” Sansa firmly shook her head and she tightened her grip on his hand, which she was still holding. “The last years have been hard, yes, but there have been nice moments too.” Her smile brightened. “And I’m glad I was here to see you become the amazing leader you are now.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Sansa.”

Without her he would have been dead. He wouldn’t have had the courage to march on Winterfell. He would have lost the battle against Ramsay. He wouldn’t have won the trust of the North. He wouldn’t have been able to tell everyone about the true war that was coming.

“And I’m glad I didn’t have to.” He added and swallowed. “You’ve always been beautiful, but I hope that by now you know that you’re so much more than that. You’re smart. You’re brave. You’re strong.” He treaded on dangerous ground, but he realised he had not much to lose. “And if there had been more time, I would have asked you if there was maybe a part of you that could love me.”

“O, Jon…” Sansa let out a deep sigh and then she pressed the palms of her hands to his cheeks. “There is not a part of me that doesn’t love you.” She locked her glance with his and then she leaned in to kiss him.

At first her kiss was soft and tender, but then he wrapped his arms around her and parted his lips.

They forgot where they were. They forgot who they were. They forgot the time.

And minutes, or hours, later, when they were both out of breath and their lips were red and swollen they pulled back and realised that every second that passed was one more second closer to what could be the end.

“Let me go with you.” Sansa bit her lip. “I know I can’t fight as well as you or Arya. But I can’t stand the thought of staying behind, not knowing who will come knocking on my door. You or the army of the death.” She kissed him again. “And if these are our last days on earth, I want to spend them with you.”

And despite the war that was coming, despite death waiting for them around the corner, despite the lack of promises if there would ever be a tomorrow, Jon felt himself smiling. “I won’t leave your side until the last bit of air leaves my body. It doesn’t matter if that’s tomorrow, next week or in a hundred years.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I'm gonna spend the rest of my life with you, starting with tonight.” He stood up from his seat and stretched out his hand.

With a smile Sansa placed her hand in his and a small scream escaped her lips when he lifted her up and carried her towards her bedroom.

#jonxsansaff #jon snow #Sansa Stark #jonsa #game of thrones #got #got fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #jonsa fanfiction #sansa stark fanfiction #jon snow fanfiction

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a-baleful-howl · 4 years

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Potentially looking for beta reader for my Jonsa fic, A Baleful Howl.

I started writing this fic before I was even a hardcore Jonsa shipper, before I made this blog, and before season 6 even ended. It helped me through a bad breakup and mental health episodes, and honestly it is very dear to me. It even brought me closer to my best friend, as when I was scared to tell her I was working on a long Game of Thrones fanfiction I didn’t even know she was a hardcore ASOIAF fan herself.

She helped me iron out plot details, brainstorm ideas and even told me when to axe bad ideas. She edited my first 2 chapters, and to be completely honest - the reason I haven’t updated as much as I would like is because I don’t feel like my chapters are completely ready until she’s read and ok’ed them first. I’ve been waiting for her to be in a good place to read my chapters. She’s been my beta reader and cheerleader for my writing since I was 11 years old. She’s been a part of my process for forever.

Unfortunately, she’s gone. She’s passed away. I found out a few weeks ago, but it also feels like it was only yesterday. And I feel both an overwhelming desire to finish this story she’s helped so much with, but also deep sadness that my partner isn’t here to help and encourage me anymore.

So I know I probably will need a beta reader to help me actually finish because now I’m filled with doubt more than ever, but I also know that my expectations are HIGH. I don’t just want someone who will read and fix typos, but someone who will actually help me through roadblocks and plot holes. Someone who is just as excited and eager for this story to be finished as much as I am. Someone who I can trust with the entire plot of this 32 chapter story and who won’t grow bored of it once they know the ending.

I know there are big shoes to fill, and this is basically asking for a miracle. But I figured I could at least put this out there for my followers, in case anyone is interested in my less-popular story which I actually consider my baby and feel I need to finish now more than ever.

90% of the story is already plotted. Almost every chapter already has been roughly written, just waiting for me to flesh them out when I get to them. It’s going to be roughly 32 chapters, I just need someone to hold my hand through them. Someone I can share the entire outline with and will say “ok, this is awesome. Let’s make it a reality.” and not just a fan of the fic who wants to know what will happen. If you are a fan, I would rather you experience the story like I want you to, and not be so involved in the creation that you lose interest.

So, if you’re interested, please let me know. If I don’t respond right away, don’t worry. I a) am visiting her parents and they don’t have reliable internet and b) am quite depressed and not online a lot. So be patient.

Thanks for reading.

#jonsa #jonxsansa #jon x sansa #jonsafic #jonsaff #jonxsansaff #beta reader #iso #my fic #my fics #a baleful howl #damdamfino #ao3 #longfic

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amymel86 · 4 years

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A rough continuation of that ‘Jon came back more wolfie and wrong’ thing I posted the other day...

“Jon,” Edd barked, “It’s your sister. You’re sister’s here. Sansa. You remember her, don’t you?”

Grey eyes flicked from Edd and then back to her before he rose up to his full height. All Sansa could do was blink. She dare not breathe. Some part of her though, that part that was screaming at her about her half-brother, about children’s laughter tinkling around Winterfell’s halls, about being scared witless down in the crypts by a false phantom covered in flour – that part – that part made her take a step forward, her boots scuffing against the rushes on the stone floor. Jon’s gaze dropped to her movement. She took another, only to be halted with a gasp when Edd’s hand shot out to curl around her wrist. Jon lunged forward with a snarl as though he meant to barrel into the man.

“Back!” Edd hollered, raising his sword at her brother. Jon froze, but he did not cower, only glared at where his black brother had Sansa in his grasp, his chest heaving as though his lungs were filling with cold earth. Edd followed Jon’s line of sight and dropped Sansa’s wrist. “Oh c’mon, Jon!” he said gruffly. “D’you think I’d hurt her? It’s you we’ve got t’ worry about here.”

“Jon wouldn’t hurt me.” Her voice sounded small even to her own ears. Those familiar and yet changed grey eyes were on her again. There was something about them -something akin to the wilderness.

“He killed two of our men and was well on his way to making that count to three if we hadn’t’ve overpowered him.” Edd seemed to talk in grunts. Jon was ignoring him - hadn’t even flinched while his friend recounted his crimes, only continued to bore his eyes into Sansa’s. The boy she knew would never have murdered. The boy she knew was gone. “Snapped the neck of one and seemed he’d tried to crack the ribs of the other wide open,” the man continued, almost muttering to himself. Sansa glanced over at him with frown of confusion. When she faced her brother again she could’ve sworn he was a fraction closer than he had been before. He smelt of pine, earth, sweat and blood.

“Jon would never hurt me,” she repeats, looking him over, telling herself she was right. “How long has he been locked up in here?”

“Since he came back from death and decided there were a few men who should be sent there in his place.”

“How long has that been?”

“A sennight.”

He looks it. In fact, he looks as though he’s not bathed nor slept for longer.

“Jon?” she ventures again, boot shuffling forward, Edd mimicking her advance beside her. “Jon, do you remember me?”

Sansa tracks his eyes as they move slowly down her frame, painting her with his gaze before leisurely rising back to her face. Does he remember?

“Leave,” Jon growls. The command was gruff and hoarse and felt like a shard of ice piercing her heart. But then his gaze drufted to Edd, expectant. “Leave.”

The black brother sucked in a breath and stood straighter. “That’s the first thing you’ve said since...” there was no need to finish, he shook his head instead. “C’mon, my lady, lets get you some food before a fire to warm up,” he begins to heard her out along with her injured heart.

“Not her,” Jon jerks his chin.

Sansa could feel herself knitting back together, ever so slowly, so tentatively lest the wound be torn wide open again.

“You know I can’t do that, Jon.” Edd’s words were apologetic and for a while the two men – one man, one something wild – stared one another down. The air in the squalid little quarters when frigid.

“He’s my brother,” Sansa offered, “I’ll be fine. You can leave us.”

Tollet’s eyes never left Jon. “You don’t know what he’s been like. You didn’t see what he’d done with his own hands.”

“I trust him.” She lifted her chin.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Edd... leave us, please.”

He was reticent, Sansa could tell, but she held her stance, her spine pulled straight and her head high.

“Perhaps you could fetch us some food and a tub of hot water so that my brother might bathe?” she suggested.

Sansa could read Edd’s warring thoughts clear in his expression as though they were written words scrawled across the lines of his face. He eyed Jon up and down and exhaled in defeat. “Behave,” he commanded, lifting the point of his sword to gesture at Jon. Her brother ignored the blade. “I mean, it Jon. I-...if you hadn’t’ve been my friend before you-“ he huffed, looking rather vexed. “Don’t make me regret trusting you,” he said before lowering his weapon and twisting to face Sansa. “If he tries t’ hurt you, you scream as long and loud as you can.”

Sansa offered the man a confident smile. “Jon won’t hurt me.”

She watched him leave, turning to find the Jon had moved closer still – not a huge amount, perhaps a step or two. Something about it unnerved her. He narrowed his eyes and looked her slowly up and down again. “Do you remember me?” she asked, swallowing over her suddenly dry throat. Jon watched the movement, his eyes trained on her neck. He did not answer. She wondered if he could hear the war-drum that had replaced her heart.

For perhaps half a second – not even that – she wallowed in the sharp ache that came with the notion that he, though alive, is lost to her too.

She won’t allow it.

Spinning on her heel, Sansa moved to the door of Jon’s little prison. Perhaps if they are afforded more privacy, she can help him remember? Maybe she could coax him back to himself with tales that only Winterfell children know? If she could just focus on the memories, on the people and the sights and scents and tastes of their past-

The door latch clicked into place and Sansa’s breath left her in a great whoosh as she spun around to find Jon mere inches from her. She could count the flecks of violet in his eyes, smell the stale sweat on his clothes and see the dried mud and blood on his skin.

“Jon,” she said, licking her lips. Her brother’s eyes followed the movement of her tongue. He stepped closer still, cocking his head to the side as he watched the dip and swell of her ribcage with her breathing. The cool wood of the door was at her back. She stayed her hand from reaching for the latch. “You wouldn’t hurt me,” she whispers.

Jon’s grey gaze flicks from her chest to meet with her own. He says nothing, only shaking his head slowly, intently. No, he would not hurt me, she thinks, there’s enough of him left somewhere in there at least.

Jon presses closer, his legs pushing into the circle of her skirts. Sansa wills her lungs to release. It stings. The frigid chambers have run hot all of a sudden as she watches Jon lean in and take a deep inhale, his eyelids sliding shut and a low rumble hum from somewhere deep in his chest.

He presses closer and closer – close enough that he’s pushing her flat against the wood. With eyes still blissfully closed, Jon leans in, pressing his cold nose to the side of her neck making Sansa suck in a breath. He takes in a lungful of her and then shudders.

“J-Jon?”

One of his dirty hands curls hot around her throat and gently moves up to cup her jaw, turning her face to the side so that his nose may slip up to her temple and take in another drag of air before tilting her in his hand and burying his face in her hair behind her ear.

His weight against her is pleasant and warm. His breath on the slope of her neck sprinkled gooseflesh across her skin. She could feel herself slipping, being lulled into a trance of his warmth and security of his palm around her throat. She hadn’t had time to register that Jon had been grinding his hips into her... and that she was moving against him in turn.

BANG BANG BANG

“Some hot food for you, my lady,” came the call of her lady knight from the other side of the door. Jon growled low and menacing into her ear. Gasping, Sansa pushed at his chest. He did not move, only reared his head back slowly. They stared at one another and Sansa pushed again as he stayed there, pinning her to the door with his strong frame.

“My lady?”

When he released her, stepping away while holding her gaze, Sansa felt her face flush scarlet.

What in Seven Hells just happened?

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #jonsa fanfic #jonxsansaff

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