The poor thing in the road, it's eyes still glistening 17k by @eruherdiriel
Hooves are not what wake Jon in the middle of the night, pulse racing and hands clammy with sweat.
It’s fire. Orange and angry, eating away at houses and shops and shacks in his dream. Even now that he is awake, Jon can still taste burnt flesh on the back of his tongue. The wounds from his brother’s mutiny and Drogon’s gouge, frozen only hours ago, burn white.
War leaves everyone broken, Jon perhaps most of all. Sansa finds even peacetime requires letting go.
the sky is big enough 15k @hopetorun
The war is over, except all the ways it isn't, and Sansa isn't alone, except for all the ways she is.
O Voyagers 28k WIP
Jon’s eyes are fixed on the floor at her feet. To a stranger it might look like respect, the proper deference shown to a queen, but Sansa knows better. If he wished to look at her, he would.
He has not forgiven me, she thinks, her heart a stone in her chest. He likely never will.
daughters and queens bleed alone 4k
They crown Sansa with a rope of twisted steel, two wolves arching across her brow in a delicate embrace.
No stags upon this crown—no branching antlers, no gleaming manes, no blooming hearts of southern roses. No fire, no blood, no graceful sweep of scales and wings, or the silver bite of dragon’s teeth.
The Queen in the North stands before them, and Winter has come.
old wounds 2k by @jonsaslove
Jon left King's Landing and never returned. Sansa became Queen in the North and weathered the storm.
When they see each other again, there is not much left to say.
stories to tell our children 1k by @jonsaslove
“You said that Old Nan used to tell you stories so scary you couldn’t sleep for a fortnight! That was a baby story!”
Duncan nods, agreeing with his sister.
Her father interrupts.
“Well, Old Nan was a very good story teller. She could tell you a story about fairies and princesses and make it seem terrifying with just her voice and a menacing stare.”
Or;
Jon and Sansa tell their children bedtime stories.
Where the Shadow Ends 245k (I'm sure y'all have read this one, but it is THE post canon fic, so it must be mentioned!)
For years Sansa has ruled the North, wisely, justly, capably--and utterly alone. Everyone tells her she needs an heir; all she wants is a family. But after everything she’s suffered, there’s only one man she trusts won’t use her for her claim. Only one she trusts with her body. Unfortunately, she trusts him in no other way--especially not with her heart.
For years Jon’s hidden in the far north, choosing solitude over the people he loves, choosing self-exile as punishment rather than atoning. But then Tormund tires of his moping and drags Jon back to Winterfell where guilt and consequences and a tempting offer await him.
accompanying gifset by @thewindsofwolves
We Set Fire in the Snow 7k by @framboise-fics
Three days was long enough for moments of tenderness, for soft touches and gentle murmurs alongside the violence of their passions, but it was not long enough to burn this fire between them down to ashes, to put out the flames, he thinks ruefully, bitterly, achingly, as he rides out and looks back at her standing on the ramparts as he remembered her, her hair a curtain of fire, her body rigid like she has been sculpted from ice.
He will take that fire back North, to warm him through frigid nights, he thinks; to burn inside of him so that he shall never find any peace; and let her feel the same, he thinks, let him not be alone in his agony.
If he loved her he should surely wish her peace, so does he love her? Or is this how a wicked man loves, painfully, cruelly, selfishly? Is he her punishment just as she is his?
An Affair in Stages 13k by @justadram (not tagged post canon but works as one which is interesting as the first chapter was posted way back in 2013!)
It begins with a proposition, but where it will end neither of them knows.
Please Speak Well of Me 17k
A queen isn’t supposed to cry. So she’s learned to turn her tears to frost before they ever reach her cheeks.
“Sansa,” Jon says to her, and the ice within shifts, weakens. Brackish water begins to leak through the cracks.
She can barely remember how to speak, and it doesn’t come as much of a comfort that he seems to be fumbling as well.
Over the foolish moons, Sansa had imagined that, if the time came that Jon ever returned, the mere sight of him would unwind the tangles of conflict inside of her. There would be something in his eyes, something she had forgotten about his face, something that would remind her what was real and what was not between the two of them.
breathe me in, taste my words 2k
Much to her surprise, marriage has only made Sansa less of a lady, not more. She doesn’t mind terribly, but maybe that’s because Jon doesn’t either.
Stone by Stone 8k
Finally, her words came in a rush. “But I seem to have built my own wall. Stone by stone, little by little, after each of them disappointed me, hurt me. And now that they are dead, I sometimes fear I may die behind my wall that no one can can walk thru.”
fire in exile 2k by @princemills
The thoughts of the others he’d lost were too unpleasant, and the thoughts of those who survived made him want to keel over like a babe, knowing he’d left them behind. It wasn’t really a choice, but it didn’t stop him from pondering his choices. From King in the North to bending the knee to Daenerys to stabbing her with a dagger beneath white ash borne from burning flesh, he’s never made the correct choice, and now he’ll burn in hell for it.
Or, as Westeros deems hell: he’ll freeze his balls off at the wall, or Tormund will cut them off. Whichever comes first.
-
a quick study of jon and the choices he makes in exile.
watch me run right back to you 16k
Three times Jon and Sansa almost kiss…and three times they actually do.
come out of hiding (i'm right here beside you) 36k @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth
AU after 8.05. After the death of Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow chooses to live beyond the Wall, while Sansa Stark, the newly-crowned Queen in the North, marries a Dornish prince.
Three years later, when Jon finally gathers the courage to return to Winterfell, he finds that while many things have changed, one hasn't: he's still in love with Sansa.
(Featuring widow!Sansa, contrite!Jon, and a cute baby.)
Homecoming 31k @theoriginalsuki
Halfway to him, she broke composure; she flew at him, an arrow from a bow, and he opened to receive her, lifting her, clutching her to the soft, neglected animal of his body.
Sansa has one request of Jon, and then he can leave her forever: help her to find a husband.
Gifsets: Jonsa and Their Three Children by @kingbuckley , Together We Build Our Empire by @aureliacamargo, Future Jonsa with Children by @amandapeetshusband, In Which They Live a Long and Happy Life Together by @baelerion, To See Him Once Again by @theirwinterfell, Maybe We'll Meet Again by @thatmansplayinggalaga
PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALE - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON - RICKON LIVES - JON X ALAYNE - EDWARDIAN - VICTORIAN - OUTSIDER POV - FIGURE SKATING
people who are just finding out about internet tracking and data mining in the year 2025 and that your special robot friend does not respect your privacy lol
Summary: Every Wednesday your schedule consisted of attending classes during the day, and satisfying the needs of a sadist through the night.
Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Violence, Kidnapping, Isolation, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Gore, Stockholm Syndrome, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Insertion, Fingering, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Gunplay, Deepthroating, Breeding Kink, Unprotected sex
A/N: Hell is empty
4k Words
You're strapped in a chair, like always, and you are blindfolded because he doesn't trust easily.
It's terribly annoying.
At any point of during and after your little 'arrangement' you could have called the cops. Doesn't he understand that?
Every Wednesday, you're taken from the warmth of your apartment, and you're delivered right back at 00:00 on the dot, every Thursday with barely an inch of life left in your bones. You'd either always come back wet, with semen sliding between your thighs, or with mysterious marks- old and new- crawling underneath your sweater. Whatever mood he was in, he'd always leave you feeling sore.
It should have bothered you.
The thought of seeing this large, domineering shadow-in-a-suit every Wednesday should not overwhelm you with all these feelings of excitement. Instead, you should do like all the mentally ill girls do and just get some fucking help.
But you want him to trust you, for some reason.
Which was utterly ridiculous considering the fact that to him, you were something akin to a porcelain wind up toy for his amusement. You had no business requesting he remove the blindfold aspect but still, you asked anyway. Toy's couldn't be trusted, could they?
"I'd really appreciate it if I didn't have to wear one of these everytime I visit your place." He removes the blindfold, and in a second, your vision is filled with nothing but him. One moment you were in the cozy warmth of your dorm room. Curled up on the couch while your roommate spends her youth effectively- out with boyfriends and friends and everything you didn't have. You answered the front door when you heard his special knock, like you always do. You walked with him to the cab. You let him put on the blindfold. You said 'I'm fine’ when the taxi driver got a little too nosy and you let him lead you away from your boring life.
If only for a few hours.
You'd let him do whatever he wanted for those few hours because such surrender was almost sacred. You forfeited your safety in his hands, to do with it whatever he pleased and in that, you found rest. Whatever happens, happens.
Forget this room- what was essentially his personal dungeon, windowless, red and boasting various torture objects- your eyes are only on him.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't feel the need to kidnap me anymore? We do this every Wednesday," You become more childish around him and he lets you. Like you forgot you are a fully autonomous university student. There was power in that too. "Surely we've established some sort of trust?” He doesn't respond to you immediately. You crane your head up at him, hungry to lock eyes with his cold, empty slits that enchanted you body and soul.
You are in love with him, perhaps.
That's a logical response isn't it?
You laugh almost.
Listening to yourself try to rationalize your fondness for such a horrible man.
Said horrible man is silent. All you hear is the clicking of his dress shoes as he moves to the leather seat directly across from yours. Your eyes scan over all his movements.
The right corner of his lip quirks up. A small coffee table creates the only distance between you and he bends over to pour you both a generous glass of Brandy on the rocks. You don't drink it. Ever since he's been bringing you here, you never do. He knows this, yet still he pours.
"This relationship isn't about trust." He says finally. Something inside you, that is perhaps a little broken, actually purrs at the sound of his voice. You're hyperaware of your thighs squeezing together on the leather seat. They're spilling out of the sundress you purposely wore today.
Lots of your clothes were for the function of comfort. Your body was full and curvy and not always something to be advertised, unless you wished it to. Tonight, you wanted to show off as much as possible.
A thick leather band is keeping both your wrists locked to the armrests, while he sits back, free and so irrevocably in charge it should scare you. It should. But the sick and incredibly deranged thing is that it doesn't.
Outside, the rain is beating down on whatever building you're in, casting a thick veneer of grey all across the city.
But inside this velvet room... your heart is hammering inside its cage as you watch him undo the buttons of his crisp suit. A black one today. Jet black like his hair.
Although-
"You've got more grey in your hair than last week." You can't help but say.
He tilts his head in inquisition. "Are you insulting me or complimenting me?"
"I'll leave that up to you to decide," you shrug your shoulders as much as you can under these limited restraints. At least he hasn't restrained your ankles this time. Progress. "In here, you're the boss. Right?"
He takes a sip of his drink until finally, you've finally locked eyes. Your bare toes curl and your back arches slightly as you sit a bit straighter in your seat. Like you're in a lecture hall, although he is far more interesting than any of your professors.
"I'm not as young as I used to be," he finally says as he takes one more sip of his drink before bringing his briefcase onto the coffee table. Its presence is ominous and so horribly loud for an inanimate object. It kickstarts all your dormant nerves, revving up all the rest of your senses that have yet to catch up to the fact that you were facing the man of both your desires and nightmares once again.
"Who have you told about our arrangement?" The question causes you to roll your eyes. He watches the petulant movement with that same, silent smile and blank eyes. He unclicks the briefcase. Your stomach lurches and your thighs squeeze together. Pavlov's dog.
"Every time you ask me-" an object clinks onto the table. A butcher knife.
You try to pull your eyes away from the objects he's placing on the table, one by one. "Everytime you ask me if I've told anyone about our arrangement-" another object. A wooden spoon beside the knife. "Everytime I tell you the same thing."
Your throat closes when he uncovers a dildo. Bright pink and fucking menacing. "Carry on talking." He says, snapping your gaze away from the objects lining the table.
"I don't have any friends." Your voice is wobblier. You try to deny the sight of the rabbit vibrator, "It's the reason you picked me." You clear your throat as you hoped to clear all the nerves beginning to fog your mind. "Someone could've followed me here. B-But I don't really know anyone enough to care." The final object that clunks onto the glass coffee table and this time, you're unable to look away.
"Are we ready to begin?"
The metal revolver laying quiet and undisturbed beside the rabbit vibrator makes everything else on the table look like children's toys. Even the butcher knife.
You pull at the restraints, your legs quivering slightly as you shift and writhe in the seat. He studies you as closely as you were once studying him. You can see the excitement begin to flood his eyes at the physical manifestation of your discomfort.
"Now you're getting it." He nods sardonically, taking another sip from his glass before placing the briefcase on the floor beside him. "You were a little too happy to see me," he joked, letting out an airy exhale of laughter.
"You wanna hazard a guess as to what we'll be playing today?" He's smiling, genuinely. With that look in his eyes you can tell he's hovering in the clouds. Meanwhile you've begun to feel real fear. No matter how regular these visits might become you'd never get used to him. It's impossible. Not when he found new and daring ways to torture and pleasure you every single week. You couldn't get used to something as brash and unconventional as him. Like the conditions of a child in a broken home, he kept his tactics inconsistent so that every week is a new hell or perhaps- depending on his mood- heaven.
"If I guess wrong?" You swallow thickly and something dark in him settles. He spreads his legs more, there's a twitch inside his lips before he smiles again.
"Well, guessing isn't the game, so you'll be fine."
You nod your head... assessing the objects. There's menacing objects and household objects. Even just looking at them you can tell what they all have in common.
"Am I going to have to insert-"
"You're not guessing." His voice booms. He rests his elbow on the armrests, his hands corded with veins seem itching to do something, you're not sure what. "I said guess." He commands.
"Hide and seek?"
He snickers, "A favourite-"
"More like your favourite." You snip back, "I couldn't sit down the whole week." You frown at the memory. That week he'd brought you to an abandoned warehouse, letting you run the entire perimeter full.
"It's in your best interest to keep coming to our sessions-" he reminds you, snapping you back into the present.
"You're paying my university fees, I'm not complaining." You nod, before plastering a thin smile on your face, "All I have to do every week is prostitute myself to a literal sadist-"
"Have you given up on guessing today's game?" He didn't like you making him hyper aware of the fact that this dynamic, whatever it is, is considered objectively bad. And so you're not surprised when he swiftly moves past the topic.
He leans forward. His large hand disappears under his chair before uncovering a small whiteboard. Four lines- 2 horizontals are running across 2 verticals, creating 9 blocks. He stands up, while your eye is still focusing on the board. From your point of view it sits underneath the row of objects on the table. You don't even realize your right wrist strap is being untied.
"Colour?" He asks, pushing a crate of whiteboard markers towards you. With your now free hand you pick the pink one.
He snickers. "Predictable." He whispers before placing a large, domineering hand on your head. He presses down your braids, patting you like a stray he's rescued from the cold. You stare aimlessly ahead, fearing you won't be able to contain everything you've begun to feel for him if you lock eyes now.
"We're playing tic-tac-toe," he relents. His hand lingers on your head a bit longer before he's stepping away.
"With a twist, I presume?"
"Clever girl," he nods, walking back to his seat. "So you're aware of the objects."
"Place a gun in front of a girl and she's going to notice."
"Paranoid girl." He tsks before leaning forward.
"You want to start or should I?"
"Wait-" you swallow, "What happens if I win?"
He smiles that dazzling, debonair smile.
"You pick which one goes inside you."
Lightning cracks across the sky. A chorus of thunder roars all at once like some kind of phenomenon and your lips stutter open.
"Th-That's insane I-"
"I shouldn't have to remind you that you came here out of your own volition. "
"What happens if you win?"
"Then I choose." He says.
Your eyes skate over the object. It doesn't take an ivy league graduate to hazard a guess as to which of the objects he's itching to stick inside you.
"There's a fucking knife here-" You're trembling. Tears are pooling in your eyes. It doesn't even matter that you're a somewhat decent tic tac toe player. It doesn't matter that you're confident in this game. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.
"And there's also a spoon," he nods, neutrally, "And a vibrator, and a dildo. Etcetera. Etcetera." He leans forward, unclicking his whiteboard pen, "your words are just words, Darling. You're just listing things. Start," he says, with a deadly lilt in his voice. "Or I will."
You scramble to uncap your marker with one hand, all while he watches with dead and black eyes. You knew that whoever starts the game was placed at a big advantage and so you're nearly scrambling to place that dignified X in the center block.
"Clever girl." He says once again, drawing his blue 'O' directly beside your pink 'X'. You aim for the block above him. He blocks it. You aim for the block beside the center. He blocks that too.
Your victory comes too quickly. You barely feel it as you strike a line vertically through the blocks. 3 X's.
Relief washes over you but it's overcast with doubt. Like you're celebrating in trepidation as you watch him stand up.
"Congratulations! Which do you choose?"
"I can pick anything?" You ask, staring up at him, bright eyes wild with the adrenaline that comes with wanting to preserve your organs.
"Anything you want, my little winner."
You begin to lean over. His eyebrows quirk up when you wrap a small hand around his wrist.
"I pick that." You say breathlessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands at his side. And you watch as he walks towards you, as if compelled by an unforeseen force. His palms are calloused underneath yours and you blow out several unstable breaths as he stands above you. So imposing it's breathtaking.
"You sure?" It's the way he asks it that has you second guessing. And perhaps he sees the caution seeping into your eyes because there's excitement lurking in his. Before you're even able to formulate a response, his hand is locked tightly around your esophagus, vacuuming all pathways shut until you're writhing for air.
"A fine, fine choice," He's becoming more and more riled up the more you writhe in your seat, trying to scrounge for a single breath of air. He doesn't let you. Instead he moves behind you, before leaning down.
If you could breathe, you would shiver at the feeling of his lips behind your ear. "Here we go-" he whispers, before reaching around your torso with his free hand before forcing your legs open. The second he lets his three digits stab into your cunt, he uncurls the grip on your throat as you make a horrid sound somewhere between a moan, a scream, and a haggard gasp. "FUCK- Sl-Slowdown-" you knew better than to request something like that. All you hear is a snicker from behind you as pain blossoms all across your nether regions. He's not gentle. He's not kind. He doesn't allow you to adjust to his fingers before he's scissoring them inside you, causing a blood-curdling scream to rip itself out of your throat. Your back is arched and you're trying to get away from him but the fucking persists.
"You've been wet like this for me the entire time?" He sounds absolutely demented, behind you, "You wanted this didn't you?" He bites at your ear as the first tears begin to pool at your eyes, "My little winner."
"P-Please stop-" His fingers are restless inside you. Curling and uncurling. Scissoring and stabbing as if wanting to open you up and split you all the way in half.
"What a pretty little pussy, huh? Look at what a mess you're making."
"When-" you can't form words. "When- Stop?" It's all you're able to say as your nails dig into the material of his suit.
"The sooner you cum the sooner it stops."
You doubted your ability to cum under these circumstances. He's setting an ungodly pace and it's all so hurried and in a frenzy, it's like your brain does not have time to understand if you even like what's currently being done to you.
"What- Do you want you want my help?" you begin to shake your head. "I'll help you, baby-"
His other hand reaches over and pinches your clit.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm is quite literally forced out of you. Your hips writhe and your ass tries to leave the seat as the first feelings of pleasure rip through you by force. "That's it, Clever girl," he coos, still curling his fingers inside you, "That's my Clever girl." He says once more before stilling his movements. For a second you just sit there, trying to collect your breath while he's still inside you. All at once, his hands are removed from your body.
He grabs a handkerchief from his breast pocket and you watch him clinically wipe his hands before erasing the marks on the board with the same cloth. A very clear boner pushes against his black slacks yet still his face is calm.
"Alright, My turn to start-"
"WHAT!? B-But I won." You scream, absolutely seething with desperation.
"You know everyone who plays 'X' has a significantly higher chance at winning-" You say with your eyes narrowed. He nods.
"And you know that too, which means we each should be granted alternating times to play ‘X’. Regardless if you won or not." You slump in your seat, suddenly far too aware that your bare cunt is exposed.
"Don't mope." He says, "It's not cute." Before drawing his 'X' in the center.
You close your legs, sitting upright with a new zeal of self preservation as you grab ahold of your marker.
You draw your pink 'O' underneath his.
You both play many more rounds. All ending in ties. This is how you play- with a frazzled grip and closed legs. A shiver every now and then overcomes you with the gravity of your aftershocks. His snickers bring your eyes up to his. He speaks as he makes his move.
"You're so focused on blocking," he sighs, "You're not even trying to win anymore-"
"I'm not letting you stick a knife in my cunt." You nod in finality before blocking another move.
"Not even if I say please?" He asks, making a faux pout.
"Fuck off."
"In that case, I have to win."
Your heart kickstarts as he pushes his pen to the board. Images flash across your mind. Blood splattered across his gorgeous face. Your blood as he fucks the sharp end of a knife inside you. You nearly vomit while he speaks. “Easy as-" you block him.
"Tic-" you block him again.
"Tac-" you block him some more
"Toe- I Win."
A victory that somehow escaped your vision. He strikes a line diagonally through the squares and your stomach sinks. He stares at you from across the room. His eyes so deeply satisfied you can feel it radiating off of him in waves.
You lower your teeth to the other restraint, violently trying to free your left wrist from its oppressive hold. And you watch as the devil slowly rises.
Your heart aches. Your brain is sent into complete alarm as your flight or fight kicks in and your sympathetic nervous system fires.
"Now, which one would look pretty inside you?" He drags his fingers along the objects, undoubtedly an act of taunting. You stomp your feet on the ground. You try to push the chair underneath you but it's plastered to the floor.
"Please!" Tears are running thickly. They cloud your vision. You don't even see the way his smile falls enough for him to rub over the bulge in his slacks.
"Fuck," he says gravelly as he relents and picks up the gun. "You're so fucking pretty when you're scared out of your fucking mind. You know that?"
You shake your head as he nears, wondering if this might really be the end. Has your body become too worn out by his games? Has the time for him to discard his toy finally dawned on you both? Is he all grown up with no need for such things as toys?
"PLEASE-NO-"
"Open your mouth." He's standing in front of you, your head directly in front of his raging bulge.
You shake your head, trying to move away but he rips your face towards him. "Listening to me is the only choice you have to make it out alive, Baby. You wanna live, don't you?" He's nothing but a tall figure, with the overhead lights shining around his head like a halo. Your face right by his bulge.
"Little girl needs to go to school." He nods, eyes fluttering shut, "She needs to complete her studies and get a good job so she wouldn't have to meet with scary men like me- Fuck-" it riled him up to no end to have you scared of him. You suppose it triggered a part of him that craved attention. He needed to feel like he existed and if that was reeped from fear then so be it.
"Stick the barrel in your mouth," the bottom of his hand coaxed open your jaw, and, as if on autopilot, you listen. Perhaps there is a way out of this. Perhaps you should just listen.
"That's it... Fuck," he brings your free hand up to rub his erection "That's it, Baby, stick it inside your mouth." Cold metal hits your lower teeth, "Stick it in like you would a cock." He says, looking down at you intently as your tongue unfurls and you suck the barrel in. "Shit-" he places his other hand on the back of your head before forcing you to take the gun deeper down your throat. He's trembling. Far too badly. And so is his finger on the trigger.
"Fuck, you're such a fucking whore, you know that?"
You're gagging and flailing around the barrel, saliva slides down.
So desperate to please him.
In your hast you don't even realize your left hand that had been restrained is now free. Your eyes are closed.
Please him.
Just please him and you'll live.
"That's my brainless girl..." he praises and that rouses something in you. It has your hips bucking against nothing.
"Such a stupid girl..." he continues, "You're gonna ride me, aren't you? You're gonna fuck me so good-" You're not about to tell him that sex wasn't supposed to be apart of this game. You're not stupid.
You faintly hear the sound of a belt unlooping. A zipper siding down. "You're making me so happy, baby." He admits before effortlessly lifting you from the chair until you're straddling him.
You're free.
When did that happen?
"F-Fuck, I need you to ride me." His head is leaning back against the chair. His tie hangs messily from his shirt that has two buttons undone.
You're free.
"Don't try anything," he warns, as he lifts you enough to pull his cock out of his pants. "Matter of fact. Keep it in your mouth while you ride me-" He slams you down onto his cock the very second those words leave his mouth. He's fucking into you with recklessness and fury and violence. His hair falls in his face but the gun is too heavy, without a hand there, it nearly slips from your mouth.
He's careful to catch it, forcing the barrel back in your mouth as he places a hand on your ass, controlling how your ass bounces on his lap. The gun offers motivation like no other. It has you arching your back and swirling your hips as you tighten your cunt around him.
He sticks the gun down too far and you gag. "You trying to get me to cum, huh? You little slut-" you nod, the tears still spilling as pleasure begins to stream through your brain. It has you excited by the prospect of being held at gunpoint. You realize with grave certainty that you've arrived at the point of no return.
"What a good girl- fuck-" he's ramming up into you, his hand on the gun twitching like his cock does. "I'm gonna fucking cum- FUCK-" he does and your orgasm immediately barrels into you at the exact same time. You try to ride him, to milk it as much as you can, to continue to make him happy.
"Such a stupid fucking slut-" he whispers, eyes hooded as his hips still spurt cum into you.
Your ears perk. You see his finger on the trigger move. You squeeze your eyes shut as you hear a click.
"Such a silly girl." You hear him say. "Don't worry, Baby, it isn't loaded." You're still in your body. You're still alive, on his lap, your sundress unfurling around you both.
New favorite character trope: working class woman who uses her own determination, passion, and wit to win against the rich assholes all playing dangerous mind games.
i’m counting your heartbeats, they’re all i have left
Jonsa soulmate au where your soulmate’s name appears above you heart. Takes place after Jon was murdered. One of my faves because not only is the writing amazing, the ending is great with everyone realizing what they truly wanted in life, including Daenerys herself.
and no net ensnares me
What Seaon 7 and 8 could have been. This fanfic was written long before the final episode of the show was aired. This fic just proves that D&D had no idea what the hell they were doing.
they tumble down
A fanfic where Jon already has come with terms with his feeling while Sansa is like “I said I don’t have feelings for Jon. You know, like a liar.” Basically a whole ass marriage happens between the two and it also allows us the reader to understand what kind of mindset Daenerys develops after gaining all the power she wanted in her life.
a royal fawn
A AU where Shireen Baratheon was given a second chance at life. There is Jonsa happening in the background mostly but since the fic is mostly told through Shireen’s eyes, you get a fresh new look at the characters, even at your faves.
more than skin
Jonsa relationship seen through Daenerys’ eyes. Ngl, this fic made me sad. In my opinion, I think Daenerys did develop feelings for Jon in the show but when his feelings for his family and the North were much stronger, she uses threats to ensure that he stays by her side. This fic greatly shows how Daenerys isn’t all good or evil. She’s a complex character who is the hero in her story but the villain in others.
intentions of gold (with my plans)
This fic takes place during season 8 and uses plotlines that were abandoned. I love it because it gives Missandei a story of her own. There’s some sad endings for some of the main characters but they don’t make you mad, it just feels right even if it wasn’t what you wanted.
i feel you move (in distances worth keeping)
AU where Daenerys wins her throne in the end but Jon and Sansa rule the North with a baby daughter. Basically, the most of the seven kingsdom don’t like how Daenerys rule since it is affecting them negatively. Cersei and Jaime come back to help aid Jonsa’s plan to dethrone Daenerys alongside Princess Arianne from Dorne. Once again, charatcers like Missandei and Arianne are given a purpose. Love it. Number One on my list of Game of Thrones fics.
Blond hair and violet eyes– just like his own– stared vacantly into the ceiling. Pale skin, translucent in the fluorecent lights.
Just a nightmare, any minute now he would wake up in the station, have some of that tasteless but nutricious space food, don his spacesuit and go out to the surface of the moon to collect data he would later send to his father…
His dead father who seemed to be staring right through him, body stiff as the metalic table he laid on, his lashes still frosted, lips blue.
What was he thinking? Going up to the North like that without proper equipment or a guide of any kind, it was not like him at all, but maybe things hadn’t gone as he planned, maybe he had been forced to–
Aegon turned around just as his sister apologized for his distracted behavior and signed for the body to be discharged so it could be sent back home. Gods, it had been almost 6 years since he had last seen Dragonstone, he remembered the salty air and ashen grey sand so cool to the touch you could lie there even on the hottest summer day.
[[MORE]]
The memory was enough to make him smile, wan and melancholy for he did not– could not - forget the circumstances in which he was going back.
Rhaenys touched his arm, gently almost tentative “C'mon Egg, we have to go”
He nodded and walked along, she was very diferent from the sister he remembered, not taller though he coludn’t be sure with the heels she was wearing but the way she carried herself was diferent. She used to slouch, father always tried to correct her posture. Rain never cared to try though, she still slouched a little, it was only noticeable in a slight bend of her shoulders, but that didn’t take away from her overall air of confidence, she didn’t have much of that back then; most shocking of all, her hair was long, she really hated long hair would chop it off herself if mom refused to take her to the hair saloon “It’s been a long time”
She sighed “ I know”
"Where’s mom?”
“She’s back at the hotel I did not think it would be right to bring her here”
He nodded, of course she couldn’t bring mom to the body deposit, Rhaenys would never risk to upset her “How- how did she take it?, about Dad I mean, did you tell her yet?”
As soon as they were out of the building Rhaenys opened her purse and got out a cigarette and a lighter, she offered him one but he refused waiting for her answer as she put the cigarette between lips, gave it a long drag and exhaled the smoke slowly.
“Of course I told her” she answerered at last “C'mon Egg, I’ll give you a ride I parked just around the block”
He nodded and followed “And how did she take it?”
Rhaenys shrugged “She took it well all things considered, said we should have visited Dad some time and other stuff, you know how she is, but I think she is looking forward to seeing us all again”
He grabbed her arm “You called them?” he couldn’t belive Rhaenys! she was family but them… if they came at all it would only be to gloat.
She raised her eyebrow at him and shook his grip with ease “Didn’t need to, it’s all over the news, also from what I know Mr. Connington called us, well he sent this really long e-mails but you get the idea, didn’t you get one?”
He shook his head , dumbfounded “I don’t know, I really haven’t got the chance to catch up. Mr. Connington commed me at the station and I just had to get here” actually he never even expected to see Rhaenys here. He hoped she would at least go to the funeral, Mr. Connington was arranging at Dragonstone, but this… He felt anger claw at his belly, like oil on a sizzling pan the heat thretened to jump in every direction, he held it in, gods he was so out of shape.
Breath in, 1, 2, 3… Exhale. Keep focus.
And it passed.
Rhaenys studied his face, really seeing him for the frist time since they had started talking
"Fuck Egg you look like shit!”
He shrugged but felt self conscious nonetheless, Father had always insisted to always keep a good image for the Academy’s sake. He ran a hand through his short buzzcut, and dragged it all the way down to his face, he was so, so tired.
The car was a small old looking thing of a vibrant orange color, Rhaenys opened the passanger’s door for him as if he hadn’t enough strenght to do it himself.
“Where you staying at?”
"Well as I said I haven’t really–”
“ 'Kay so that means you are coming with me, we rented a room with two beds but I guess mom and I can share,it’s just a night anyway.”
He had half a mind to protest but he was just too tired to go around town looking for some place to stay so he just stayed silent.
Rhaneys started the car and soon enough they were at some cheap-looking but cozy motel called “Winterfell” which wasn’t surprising at all , he had seen at least 10 different stores with the same name since they left the morgue, according to his sister everyone had the Stark fever around here and wanted to be part of the ancestral noble house.
“For real” she said between giggles “I pulled over for some gas on the way here and the guy at the station told me he was a distant relative of the Stark, but not only him the hotel clerk, the barista at Manderly’s and they all say it in this really secret conspiratorial way. It’s kinda sweet really, now I get why Robb insisted we should do a roadtrip here, I can practically see his smug face when he mentioned he was an actual Stark”
Her laugh stopped, and became a bitter sigh.
Aegon wished he could say something but he knew he would most likely say the wrong thing and he just wasn’t up for a fight.His sister parked and proceeded to rest her forhead on the steering wheel, brown curls obscuring her face.
“Sorry Egg, I just can’t help thinking about Robb when we are here. He was always talking about Winterfell and I just-”
“It’s fine” he tried to be nonchalant about it but he felt uncomfortable, he had never been particularly close to Robb, he did like him though. Robb was one of those people you inevitably admire, but after he died everything went to shit at the Academy, everyone blamed Dad for it even Rhaenys, Aegon had been the only one that stayed after that. He knew it was pretty shitty to blame Robb for dying but if he hadn’t maybe…
“God I am such a jerk” Rhaenys lifted her face enough to look at him “I haven’t even asked if you have talked to Sansa or–?”
“I haven’t” he pressed his mouth into a thin line, he didn’t want to talk about this with Rhaenys now or ever really. “You know what? The space travel is really catching up on me so I better go rest like you said”
He opened the door and practically slammed it shut when it dawned on him he had no idea of the room number and he had to wait for Rhaenys. Fuck! just after he had stormed out of the car like a broody asshole(Jon’s asshole face flashed briefly in his mind), the day couldn’ t get worse really.
Fortunately Rhaenys let him save some dignity and got out of the car calmly as if nothing had happened but in her eyes so alike mom’s he could see worry.
"Sorry Egg, you know I am an idiot sometimes, we should go rest”
He wanted to tell her that she wasn’t, not really, not even after she left did he ever thought that, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
She led the way to a simple room decorated in pastels with two identical beds, matching night tables and a very stiff looking couch where his mother sat reading one of the romance novels she loved so well.
As soon as she saw him she got up and enveloped him in an embrace he immediately returned, they parted after a while but she stayed close enough so he could smell her characterístic orange scent, she caressed his face.
"You look so much like your daddy”
Aegon searched for a trace of emotion in his mother’s eyes to know at least someone was grieving as much as him, but her eyes were dry and he remembered that even if his mom felt any pain for her husband’s death she couldn’t be able to express it. Maybe the only thing he resented his is dad for.
“You must tell me all you have done in this years, your sister and little Nym have kept me so busy I haven’t got the chance to visit you and dad.” she made him sit beside her in one of the beds, her soft hands patting his face and squeezing his arm, it made him feel comforted in a way he hadn’t in years “I hope you made him get out of the lab once in a while, Rhaegar needed someone to force him to rest or he would simply drop exausted which of course was never safe–”
"Mom” Rhaenys interrupted putting a hand on mom’s shoulder “Aegon has just arrived and has barely slept I think we better let him rest”
"But look at him dear, your brother looks like he hasn’t eaten a proper meal in years.”
That made him genuinely smile, gods, he really had missed mom “I’ve been eating just fine, I just need some sleep”
“Aegon you can’t sleep like that, you should at least change into your pajamas”
“Well I didnt bring any change of clothes” he confessed rather ashamed. It wasn’t like him to be so unprepared.
"Such a careless boy! Rain we cannot let him like this, we should go out to buy your brother some clothes and food”
Great, now mom was treating him as a 6 year old child.
“Ok, mom just give me a minute I need to call Daeron and Nym to let them know we are at the motel”
His mother nodded, and Rhaenys got out of the room with her cell in hand.He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Rain was a mom now, much less that he was an uncle. He had seen photos of ‘Nym’ when she was a baby and another one of a toddler dressed like Princess Jonquil from that animated movie, but he had never met her.
“Nym has been dying to meet you” As always mom guessed his thoughts.
"She has? I wasn’t sure that Rhaenys talked about me or the Academy”
Mom smiled sadly “Oh, Rain doesn’t talk about the Academy, but about you of course. You are a superhero to Nym, protecting the world from the alíens and meteorites, that girl is obssessed with space, she is always saying that when she grows up her uncle will take her to live with him in space”
He felt a warm feeling wash over him, more than ever he wanted to return to Dragonstone and meet his little niece. That would be nice, he figured, a quiet normal life where he could play with little Nym, of course first he had to investigate what dad was doing in the Wolf’s Wood on his own, he was the head of the Academy now, well he would be if there was an Academy anymore.
Rhaenerys entered again, she had a smile on her face. “Daeron said he and Nym will meet us tomorrow in Dragonstone, I was worried about not being there for her frist flight but her dad says she is very excited”
“I am looking forward to meet them” said Aegon at last, he wished so desperately to have his family back especially now.
"They do too” she replied with a soft smile “Mom, we should get going. Egg you should try to take nap until we come back”
He said he would, and he did try. As soon as they left he took off his shoes and laid down on the bed to the left. It was stiff and smelled way to much of air freshener, but he had been living in a space station for 2 years now so this was more comfortable than he expected. Still he couldn’t fall asleep, as soon as his eyes closed he thought about dad and his mysterious death.
Frustrated, he decided to watch TV to drown out his thoughts. He regreted the decision almost immediately, on the screen appeared a flash of red hair. He almost laughed at his own hopelessnes, there must be a thousand woman in Westeros with that same hair color, and even if he knew them all he would still wish it was Sansa.
The woman turned around and it was her. Sansa. She had grown taller and impossibly beautiful, statuesque and regal were the words that came to mind to describe her.She became an actress, he knew that much. It seemed she was at some red carpet event. His finger thumbed the button to change the channel, he didn’t want to see her, but suddenly a reporter came down on her like a falcon on his prey, and asked her about father’s death. Her brow furrowed, she looked around as if trying to gather if this was some kind of twisted joke, her eyes filled with tears, still she politely excused herself and went back to her limo.
She cared.
His heart skipped a bit, and this time he did laugh. Gods! He felt a fool. Sansa had made her feelings for him very clear on that last note she left him…
When the hosts of the show started talking he finally turned off the TV. He grabbed one of the pillows underneath him and covered his face with it no matter what he did his mind made up diferent scenarios for their reunion each more farfetched and unsatisfactory than the last and like that he fell asleep.
So, as we all know, there are many different kinds of magic — and more being discovered every day as writers create them. It’s true that every world as different and therefore each type of magic created will be different, but following a few of these tips can help you flesh it out just a bit more.
1. Consider your world’s history. Were there ever any major events involving magic or knowledge of it? How has magic proven useful in the past? How much has your culture changed since that time; are its past uses still applicable? Has there been a history of more powerful people having a possession or knowledge of magic?
2. Decide how magic is seen through the eyes of the people. Is it taboo? Dangerous? Helpful? Is it a practice that has to be kept in secret or can it be done anywhere? Are there certain places for it? Consider the people with more knowledge of it: are they seen as wise or dangerous? Are there people with professions dedicated to it?
3. Determine its use in everyday life. Is it used to help complete regular tasks? What about in education? If your world has an education system, what is magic’s importance within it? Are there everyday items that posses magic? Are these items considered benevolent or evil? Can items be enchanted to help around the house, or is magic reserved only for things of major importance?
4. Think about the people using it. Is there a general age range for people using it? If the range is broad, are there common uses for each age group? More than age, is there a general social status of people with access to it? Is there a stereotype that follows these people? Or a wealth level? Or even an appearance?
So, those are all the magic tips I’ve got for you today. If you’d like to see me cover a topic, be sure to drop a message in my ask box; see you next time with another writing post!
Have you ever tried to write a horror story and found the result wanting? In this post, we look at how the 3 pillars of horror can improve your horror story.
It’s a difficult genre to do well. But why? All you have to do is create a monster and put it in a creepy location. Then you make a bunch of dumb jerks go there and let the monster pick them off in gruesome ways, right?
The problem with that approach is… it isn’t scary. Intense? Spectacular? Sensational? Sure. It’ll get your blood pumping, just not from fear.
Here’s the problem. If the characters are all dumb jerks, we won’t like them; if we don’t like them, we won’t care for them; if we don’t care for them, we won’t be worried for their safety. And if we aren’t worried for the character’s safety, well—we can’t be scared for them in the face of a haunted house or the monster within.
Instead, some part of us might feel these dumb jerks are getting what they deserve. We might even laugh at their horrible fates and become morbidly curious about who will die next and how.
Again, that’s not scary; it’s just a weird, vindictive betting game.
Before we look at what makes a Horror story scary, consider Stephen King’s method. He suggests the opposite of the one outlined above—the one we’ve mistaken for horror for so long.
King says: “I create sympathy for the character, then I cut the monster loose.”
With that in mind, let’s look at The 3 Pillars of Horror.
"Un mokaccino por favor outoto-chan~" pidio Hashirama recostandose en la barra de la cafetería dramáticamente.
Tobirama le miro a penas entretenido por la actitud de su exuberante hermano mayor "Basta con eso Hashirama–nii, no esta permitido recostarse sobre la barra, además tanto chocolate y cafeína no son buenos para alguien que ya de por si tiene un exceso de energía." reprendio con voz estricta.
"No eres nada divertido Rama-chan" dijo el castaño enderezandose en su asiento "ademas no puedes cuestionarme soy tu cliente, increible que me digas que no consuma tanta cafeina en una cafeteria"
:readmore:
"Hn" y a pesar de su desaprobacion le sirvio el mokaccino, suponia que la adiccion de su hermano a los azucares era inofensiva comparada con la que él tenía con el tabaco. Tan solo pensar en ello le hizo mirar discretamente el reloj en la pared de la cafetería, todavía faltaban 2 horas paraque cambio de turno, pero no tenia clientes de momento tal vez podía dejar a Hashirama cuidando el mostrador mientras el salía a fumar un cigarrillo, no habia fumado en toda la mañana y ya comenzaba a sentirse un poco ansioso, se odiaba un poco por tal debilidad pero la necesidad por la nicotina era mas fuerte que su remordimiento.
Aun así no lo hizo, podía esperar 2 horas mas, no era nada, sabia que tenía la suficiente fuerza de voluntad. Hashirama se fue después de un rato ya que le había prometido a su novia Mito que irían al cine.
La campanilla de entrada sonó de nuevo. El "bienvenido" salió automáticamente de su boca, aunque a diferencia de otras veces donde tomaba la orden, la preparaba y entregaba, a veces sin siquiera mirar al cliente, lo cual para èl era ideal.
Se encontró conque no pudo apartar la mirada de la cliente en cuestión, y no es porque fuera una belleza despampanaste y glamurosa (no veía mucho de eso en esa pequeña cafetería sin marca, la mayoría de sus clientes eran profesores y estudiantes demasiado necesitados de cafeína para formarse en el Starbucks, por supuesto tambien estaban los hipsters que ahora proclamaban la famosa cadena de la sirena como demasiado mainstream para frecuentarla) de hecho como muchos de los estudiantes que visitaban la cafeteria parecia que la chica llevaba demasiados dias sin dormir, sin embargo esos ojos cansados eran de un vibrante color verde y su cabello, atado a su nuca en un recogido flojo y desordenado, era de un color rosa pastel. Jamás había visto tal combinación en una persona. Vaya que parecía menos una persona que un espíritu del bosque, aunque dudaba que un espíritu del bosque oliera a alcohol y amonio.
"Lo siento por el olor, tuve dos horas de laboratorio hoy" dijo ella al ver que el barista arrugaba la nariz. Una parte de su cerebro, tal vez la que estaba menos falta de sueño, pensó que el barista era tremendamente guapo y que no estaría mal regresar de vez en cuando, preferiblemente cuando no pareciera que había salido arrastrandose de un bote de basura.
El nego con la cabeza avergonzado "La temporada de exámenes esta cerca" contesto sintiéndose un poco estúpido, todos sabían eso, mas bien debía haber preguntado si era estudiante de Química o de Medicina; o aun mejor debía haberse quedado con la boca cerrada hasta que ella le diera su orden.
"Ni lo menciones" gruño Sakura ¡Dios! ¿Que clase de conversación era esta? Debería ser ilegal hablar con chicos tan guapos como este sn haber tenido como mínimo 8 horas de sueño.
Por un momento que a ambos les pareció largo e incomodo, guardaron silencio sin saber que decir después para recordar que se supone que estaban haciendo.
"¿En que te puedo servir?" pregunto Tobirama recuperando la profesionalidad.
Sakura enrojecio, carajo, solo a ella se le ocurría ir a la cafetería y quedarse pasmada mirando al barista cuando se supone que tendría que estar estudiando sn parar en su dormitorio. "Lo siento, no he dormido muy bien, ah, quiero un café late grande con dos de azúcar para llevar porfavor"
"De acuerdo, estará listo en un minuto puedes sentarte en donde quieras" contesto él.
Sakura miro alrededor, había pocos clientes, la mayoría parecían profesores o estudiantes de posgrado, parecía un lugar ideal para estudiar, podría apañarse toda una mesa y a diferencia de la biblioteca aquí podía comer sin parar de estudiar. No era que estuviera buscando pretextos para ver al atractivo chico de cabello blanco, en este momento un crush era lo que menos le hacia falta, pero vaya que tener un buen espacio de estudio, cafetería y que encima pudiera ver a un chico tan atractivo, todo eso en uno era demasiado bueno para darle la espalda.
Como no queria parecer una acosadora mirando al barista cada 5 segundos, Sakura saco su celular y se puso a ojear el grupo de chat de sus clases. Como siempre Shizune-senpai estaba mandando concejos de preparacion para los exámenes de cada clase, por un momento estuvo tentada a comentarles acerca de la cafetería en la que estaba, pero no quería que este lugar se llenara de estudiantes neuróticos de medicina, la biblioteca del campus y los Starbucks de la zona ya tenían bastante de eso, por muy egoísta que sonara le gustaba que este lugar fuera su secreto de momento.
"Aqui esta tu orden" dijo Tobirama poniendo la bebida en la mesa frente a a chica, se le había olvidado preguntar el nombre para anotarlo en el vaso y evitarse interactuar con esta chica que le distraía tanto.
Sakura dio un pequeño salto y alzo la mirada para ver al barista "Lo siento, se me ha olvidado decirte mi nombre para lo del vaso. Es Sakura Haruno por cierto, no que ahora sirva de mucho decirlo pero bueno tal vez para la próxima–" tenía que callarse ya ¿Porque no se callaba? ¿Que es eso de la próxima? Como si este chico se fuera a acordar de ella, aunque igual y si porque que otra loca tenía el cabello rosa en el campus.
Tobirama sonrió muy a su pesar, esta chica de verdad era un desastre. "Ha sido mi culpa, es mi trabajo preguntar"
Sakura tomo su café y después de pagar se marcho muy mortificada, si tendria que ponerse cinta adhesiva en la boca y nunca quitarsela. De reojo por el callejon que daba a la cafeteria pudo ver que el barista que la habia atendido salio por la puerta de empleados, si hubiera llegado mas tarde no lo hubiera alcanzado, aunque igual eso hubiera sido mejor porque solo habia quedado en ridiculo.
Para su sorpresa el chico camino hacia ella, de su boca colgaba un cigarrillo encendido.
"¿Te diriges a casa Haruno-san?" pregunto Tobirama, a él no le molestaba porque siempre salía a esta hora pero era bastante tarde para que una chica anduviese sola por el campus.
"A mi dormitorio" contesto ella concentrada en mirar la punta de sus zapatos, si no miraba esa atractiva cara no se le iría la lengua por delante otra vez.
"¿Donde queda?"
"En la calle 17 , cerca de la Faultad de Derecho"
El asintio "Se donde es, vamos te acompañare hasta allá, es peligroso salir solo de noche"
Sakura volvió a sonrojarse "No es necesario, no me gustaría molestar"
"No es molestia, me queda de camino" y era la verdad, su dormitorio posiblemente estaba frente al de ella.Aunque eso no lo menciono.
.
.
Justo como Tobirama había supuesto, el dormitorio de esa chica estaba frente al suyo. La chica en cuestión, según había averiguado durante el camino era una estudiante de Medicina de primer año. Aunque al inicio le había parecido del tipo de chica que habla hasta por los codos Sakura Haruno era de hecho bastante callada, solo contestaba las preguntas que le hacia, y bueno digamos que Hashirama hubiera estado orgulloso y sorprendido de ver que él era quien mas había hablado de los dos.
"Bueno, gracias por acompañarme a casa –" No puede ser, ni siquiera le había preguntado como se llamaba. Había intentado no hablar para no decir ninguna idiotez pero esto ya era demasiado.
"Tobirama Senju, supongo que debí presentarme antes de ofrecerme a traerte al dormitorio" Con razón a penas y había hablado, un desconocido del que ni siquiera sabia el nombre habia insistido en acompañarla a casa, vaya si era estúpido. "Estudio Derecho, mi dormitorio es enfrente así que me voy"
"Gracias entonces, Senju-san, y buenas noches" el chico solo asintió con la cabeza y ella se apresuro a entrar a su dormitorio para enterrarse en sus libros de Anatomia, Fisiología y Bioquímica; tal vez hasta lograra juntar valor para volver a la cafetería al día siguiente.
.
Sus clases terminaban a las 6:00 asi que para las 6:30 ya estaba parada con su mochila frente a la cafetería, probablemente si alguien pasaba por la calle pensaría que era una loca o algo así, porque por mas que le decía a sus piernas que se movieran para entrar no lo lograba. El corazón le palpitaba en los oídos y seguramente estaba roja de nuevo, lo peor es que ni siquiera sabia si Tobirama Senju estaba de turno, la sola idea de verlo la ponía nerviosa y emocionada, ¡carajo! ya tenía un crush en él y eso no era bueno, ella era pesima para ser sutil y no queria incomodar a Senju-san en su lugar de trabajo.
Respiro profundamente, y al fin se obligo a entrar, los ojos los mantuvo fijos en el piso, decidida a no mirar inmediatamente a la barra como perrito perdido en busca de su dueño. Ya era casi una adulta, tenía que comportarse como tal, había venido a estudiar y por su dosis diaria de cafeína, nada mas.
Dejo sus cosas en una mesa desde la que estaba segura no podría ver hacia la barra, y después de prepararse mentalmente se dirigió a la barra para ordenarse un café y algo para comer.
Levanto la mirada casi con miedo, mas no estaba ahí, del otro lado de la barra una chica de ojos y cabello café la miraba expectante. Sakura se sintió un tanto decepcionada, pidió su café y un cupcake de moras; y luego volvio a su asiento para estudiar hasta que su orden estuviese lista.
"Haruno Sakura"
Miro automaticamente hacia la barra al escuchar su nombre mas se sorprendió al ver que ahí estaba Tobirama Senju, con su orden a lado mirándola con esos ojos rojos que le parecían tan fascinantes. Camino casi sin apartar la vista de él, y agradecio estar mucho mas presentable.
"Senju-san" dijo a modo de saludo.
El le paso su orden y camino con ella hasta su mesa, lo cual a Sakura le puso los nervios de punta.
"¿No tienes miedo de que se te llenen los apuntes de comida? " Hashirama y su novia a veces venian al cafe a estudiar pero Tobirama odiaba el pensar que si quiera una migaja de comida callera sobre uno de sus libros.
"Soy muy cuidadosa" replico, y como aun no queria que se marchara siguio hablando "La verdad es que apenas y me alcanza el día para hacer mi tarea y prepararme para los exámenes, así que si me quedo en la biblioteca puede que no cene nada, igual en el dormitorio porque no se cocinar nada así que me parece que esta es mi mejor opción"
"Ya veo" pensandolo así no podía culparla, hasta le preocupaba un poco que una chica tan pequeña y de por si delgada estuviera alimentandose mal. "No deberías comer solo dulces, si es que piensas venir diario, también hay baegels y ensaladas"
Ay no, seguramente lo decía por sus cachetes, si que había subido un poco de peso desde que había entrado a la Universidad pero no pensaba que fuera tan evidente. "Tal vez para la proxima"
"Bueno, no te interrumpo mas"
Sakura asintio, si decia algo mas seguro metia la pata. Con un suspiro regreso a sus estudios, Tsunade-sensei era muy exigente y sus exámenes siempre eran de preguntas abiertas, en parte le gustaba poder explayarse acerca de todo lo que aprendía pero también era aterrador equivocarse en cualquier detalle.
Sus ojos se mantuvieron pegados a su libro de Fisiología hasta que sentía que se le secarían dentro de las cuencas. Ya se había acabado el café y el muffin, por lo que no tenía hambre pero si que quería levantarse un rato del asiento, ya había avanzado bastante en sus notas de estudio y habia terminado la tarea así que podía tal vez salir un minuto a estirar las piernas.
Miro hacia la barra por instinto mas Senju-san no estaba ahí, Sakura espero que no hubiera acabado aun su turno, no es que pudiera ponerse a hablar con él, si apenas se habian visto dos veces, pero le gustaba mirarlo. Dios sonaba como una acosadora.Se levanto de la mesa y camino a la entrada, salio de la cafeteria y alzo sus manos por encima de la cabeza, disfrutando como se estiraban sus agarrotados músculos suspiro de satisfacción. Camino rumbo al callejon pensando que tal vez podía caminar un poco ahí sin obstruir la calle, para su sorpresa ahí estaba de nuevo Senju-san, recargado en la pared con su celular en una mano y un cigarrillo en la otra. Sakura odiaba el olor de esas cosas, sin mencionar lo terribles que eran para la salud, no podía creer que un chico tan atractivo tuviera un vicio tan desagradable, parte de ella quiso plantearse frente a él y quitarle el cigarrillo para después regañarle por dañar de esa forma su cuerpo. Aunque claro que no iba a hacer algo así.
"Haruno-san" dijo el sacándola de sus pensamientos "creí que nunca saldrías a tomar un poco de aire, no es bueno estudiar tantas horas seguidas, vas a lastimarte la espalda o los ojos"
Ella dejo salir una risa nerviosa "Tratare de ser mas cuidadosa"
"Solo bromeaba, a mi también me pasa lo mismo cuando estudio, mi hermano siempre tiene que sacarme a tomar aire o a comer casi a la fuerza" no sabia porque le decía eso pero le fastidiaba un poco que fuera tan formal, lo cual era una total anomalía para él. Tobirama prefería que la gente no se tomara demasiadas confianzas con él.
"Tenemos algo en común entonces"
Él sonrió "Supongo que si"
Sakura comenzó a caminar por el callejon, aunque no fue fácil o relajante como ella había supuesto, sentía que Senju-san la miraba atentamente y eso la ponía tan nerviosa que temía resbalarse o ponerse en ridículo de otra forma ¿Caminaba gracioso? ¿había dejado la etiqueta del suéter por fuera? ¿tenía el pelo enredado?
Por su parte Tobirama, ni siquiera se había percatado que la miraba de forma tan fija, pues solo lo hacia porque quería entender porque no le desagradaba hablar con esta chica en particular. No era muy alta o llamativa fuera de su cabello, y una vez te acostumbrabas a eso era una chica muy normal. No es que fuera la primer estudiante estresada que se cruzaba. Ni siquiera habían tenido una conversación real, solo cosas muy básicas y normales.Entonces ¿por que?¿por que quería seguir hablando, de lo que sea?¿por que quería preguntarle si pensaba volver o si quería que caminaran de nuevo juntos al dormitorio?
"Um, creo que voy a entrar por mis cosas" dijo Sakura al fin, dudaba poder volver a concentrarse en otra cosa que no fuera Tobirama Senju y ya no tenía mas por hacer en la cafetería "Tengo que dormir mientras pueda"
Tobirama estuvo a punto de pedirle que le esperara una hora mas, pero decidió no hacerlo, no quería dar la impresión equivocada, seria muy fácil interpretar su ofrecimiento como algún interés romántico (y vaya, si tenía un interés, pero estaba seguro que no era de indole romantica, esas cosas él no las entendia ni le interesaban). "Ve con cuidado"
Normalmente a Sakura le fastidiaba que un chico le dijera eso. No por nada era campeona juvenil de karate en su prefectura, y no es que por eso fuera invencible oasestaba exenta a que pudiese pasarle algo, pero estaba orgullosa de decir que ella podía defenderse bastante bien sola y en caso de que no tener a un chico a lado no haría mucha diferencia. Sin embargo el comentario de Senju-san no la irrito en lo mas mínimo, de hecho hasta le gusto pensar que él se preocupaba un poco por ella.
"Gracias"
Llego a su mesa, y recogio todos sus materiales de estudio. Sakura normalmente era un desastre para organizar cosas como ropa o su cuarto pero sus útiles siempre los tenía bien acomodados. Cogió una servilleta, para limpiar un poco las migajas, cuando se dio cuenta que se le había quedad un bolígrafo. Lo tomo en sus manos y en un impulso del que estaba segura se arrepentiría escribió en la servilleta.
' -El tabaco es una causa muy potente de los cánceres de pulmón, laringe,faringe,esófago,vejiga, riñón y páncreas.
-Al minuto de encender un cigarrillo el corazón del fumador comienza a latir un 30% mas rápido. La presión arterial también aumenta, incrementando el riesgo de una enfermedad coronaria.
-Los dientes se vuelven amarillos y habitualmente el fumador sufre de mal aliento
-Los dedos y uñas se ennegrecen
-La piel puede arrugarse y presentar psoriasis
Eso es todo lo que recuerdo de mi examen del sistema respiratorio pero estoy segura que hay un montón de cosas mas. Si quieres saber mas puedo enviarte la información mi teléfono es 78- 34067965
Sakura Haruno'
Salió prácticamente corriendo del café jurando para sus adentros que no volvería de nuevo. A menos claro que Senju-san le llamara, en ese caso... No, no podía pensar en eso, las mejillas le ardían solo de imaginarlo.
.
.
Después de que hubo terminado su cigarrillo Tobirama volvió al café y comenzó a limpiar las mesas que se habían desocupado. Al llegar a la mesa donde había estado Haruno-san se dio cuenta que había dejado una servilleta abajo de un bolígrafo negro, él lo recogió y ahí se percato de la nota que le había dejado.
La puerta se abrió detrás de él, mas Tobirama seguía leyendo, no pudo evitar sonreír, era adorable que se hubiera tomado la molestia de escribir esto. Así que sin dudarlo saco su teléfono y la agrego como contacto.
"Raamaaa-chan" Hashirama, estaba curioso, desde que había entrado Tobirama estaba viendo una servilleta y si, no era la primera vez que una chica le anotaba su teléfono de esa forma a su hermano, pero era la primera vez que Tobirama no tiraba a la basura el numero. No solo eso ¡hasta lo había agregado a sus contactos! "¿Que tienes en la mano?"
Tobirama estrujo en su mano la servilleta "Solo es basura"
El mayor de los Senju no podía creer que su hermano se atreviera a mentirle descaradamente, aun así decidió dejarlo pasar, si lo presionaba demascado dejaría de contactar a la chica de la servilleta solo para demostrar que no era nada.
"¿Que quieres Hashirama-nii?" pregunto como siempre.
Hashirama pidió un mokaccino con caramelo y crema extra, sin quitarle los ojos de encima a su hermano menor. Parecía tener prisa, normalmente se tardaba lo mas posible para fastidiarlo pero ahora lo atendía como a cualquier otro cliente.
"Aquí tienes" dijo colocando el vaso frente a él. Para luego sacar su teléfono.
Hashirama sonrió, mientras le daba un sorbo a su dulce y deliciosa bebida. Tobirama jamás de dejaba en paz cuando se trataba de comer dulces, era una manía que tenía, desde que al pobre le pusieron braquets en 5º año, intento comer un caramelo a escondidas de mamá y la cosa se le quedo atorada en una de las ligas, por lo que había visto el proceso dental fue muy doloroso. No podía creer que una chica era todo lo que se necesitaba, en cuanto la conociera se aseguraría de agradecerle.
.
.
Sakura estaba por subir a su dormitorio cuando su teléfono comenzó a vibrar. Seguro era Ino, siempre le estaba marcando para invitarla a un gokon, siempre le hacían falta chicas para completar el grupo, pero Sakura no tenía ganas de salir así que saco el celular para decírselo.
El mensaje no era de Ino.
Era un numero desconocido.
Pero eso no quería decir automáticamente que era Senju-san ¿O si? Igual si era èl pero solo para pedirle que no volviera a la cafetería. Era una tonta ¿Por que le había dejado esa estúpida nota?
Con resignación abrió el mensaje.
'Me gustaría saber mas. Tal vez podríamos hablar mas del tema la próxima vez que vengas.
P.D: Envía un mensaje cuando llegues al dormitorio. '
Leyó el mensaje una y otra vez, vale no era una declaración de amor ni nada por el estilo, pero por lo menos ahora sabia que Senju-san si quería hablar con ella. Apretó el celular contra su pecho y se dispuso a subir a su habitación. Mañana seguro volvería a la cafetería y quería escoger algo lindo para ponerse.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Sansa I
"A raven has arrived, my Lady"
Sansa's eyes immediately went to the Maester. A shiver passed through her, but she managed well enough to supress it. She didn't want to make Lady Cersei cross. She had been as kind and supportive as the circumstances allowed, and she was right she had to be stronger, she was the oldest Stark. She couldn't flinch every time a letter was delivered, no matter how much it reminded her of that awful letter that brought the news.
The boat where mother, father and Robb traveled had sunk, they searched for them on nearby towns and ports to no avail, the bodies had not been retrieved either, a part of her (a foolishly naive part of her) hoped against hope that somehow they would one day return, alive and unscathed... But there was no use in dreaming. They were dead and the dead never return.
[[MORE]]
"Are you unwell Sansa?"
Myrcella's voice snapped her out of her grim thoughts. She looking at the embrodery in her hands, she had stopped stitching and had even dropped her work in her lap. It was not good, she wanted to finish this handkerchief to send it to Bran before his nameday.
"I'm just fine, it seems I got lost in my thoughts. I apologize if I made you worry" she gave the younger girl a shaky smile which Myrcella returned, despite them being nothing alike she was suddenly reminded of her sister, she always wondered how was Arya doing. Sansa sighed and looked around the room to find almost half the ladies were gone including Lady Cersei.
"Myrcella, where are all the ladies?"
The small girl frowned "Mother said she had to discuss something with father and left, the other ladies went after her, they wanted to eavesdrop surely. Are you sure you're feeling fine Sansa?"
"Yes. I just haven't slept very well"
"M'lady, if you are feelin' tired perhaps it would be best if we went back to your room so you can take a nap before supper" said Shae coming up behind her chair.
"No, it would be terribly rude of me to leave Myrcella alone" she protested feebly.
"Don't worry about me Sansa, you should go take a nap, I was just thinking on playing with Tommen in the garden, so I will take my leave first" Myrcella stood from her chair and made a small curtsey in her way before leaving the room. Her ladies and septa all trailed after her.
Sansa eyed her work with sadness, and left it in it's place promising to advance on it on the morrow. "It seems I will take that nap after all Shae. Let's go back to my room."
.
.
Back in her room Shae helped her undress, all the while telling her the town's hottest gossip. It seems ser Leonyd Lannister was thinking of marrying the daughter of a poor fisherman so his Lord Father wanted to send him away... Some old Maester was seen entering a brothel and some said Lord Robert had just had a bastard son with the inkeeper's daughter...
Sansa slipped on her sheets and let her mind wandered back to Winterfell. She thought of Arya with her wild hair and big grins, of her scabby knees and loud voice. She hoped she wasn't giving Old Nan and Ser Rodrick too much trouble, though part of her hoped her sister was just as she remembered even the annoying infuriating sides. She thought of Bran, so small and so full of energy, always climbing the walls and fighting around with Arya, now he was Lord of Winterfell and how boring that must be. He should be outside playing on the snow all day and at night he should hear Old Nan's stories curled up on his furs beside baby Rickon an Robb.
Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes. She let the tears travel down her cheeks to fall on the pillow. She wanted to go back home, no matter how ungrateful and selfish her wish, it was her heart's only desire to see the snowdrops fall outside her window, to play with her siblings in the snow til' all their cheeks were flushed and their hair messy and wet, to swim in the termal waters beside the Wierdwood tree, to have Robb muss up her hair, to fight with Arya, to read stories to Bran and to carry Rickon in her arms.
.
.
Shae woke her up gently. Sansa washed her face, and dressed in a simple grey dress, it was a bit old but she had wanted to wear something that made her feel closer to home.
She had just finished getting her hair done in a braid like Mother usted to wear, when Joffrey knocked at the door to escort her to dinner. A pang of guilt twisted in her heart. Joffrey had been so patient with her all this time, all those times he had invited her to go ride with him or to walk around the gardens and she would excuse herself (she just hadn't the spirits to go with him and have fun) , he never got angry just kissed her cheek sweetly and said they would go next time. And there she was selfishly thinking of going home without him. She hadn't been thinking much of him at all lately, and that was wrong he was going to be her husband as soon as she turned six and ten, and he loved her so much, she had to be a better bride for him
Shae oponed the door. Joffrey was always so serious and dignified, with his golden hair always perfectly arraged around his face.
"My Lady" he kissed her hand and took on her appereance "Sansa why are you wearing that old dress? I believe just last month I gifted you that black dress with the gold embrodery stag and that red velvet dress with gold myrish lace."
"I'm sorry my Lord, it's just that those dresses are all so fine that they deserve to be used on most special ocasions."
"Well, you better go change, my grandfather is here and I want you to look your best before you meet him"
Sansa nodded, and bid Shae to help her change the grey dress for the red velvet one with golden lace. Lord Lannister was here, the King's Hand, it was surely important, perhaps ser Jaime had finally gotten engaged or they wanted to call Myrcella to court so she could be a Lady in waiting to Princess Rhyella.
Joffrey had gallantly waited for her outside, he looked her over and smiled "My Lady looks beautiful as always" then he leaned in a pressed a small kiss to her lips that made her hands clammy and her face red as the dress she was wearing.
Sansa found Lord Tywin just as wise and fearsome as people said, but at least she was right about his visit for Lord Jaime was getting engaged to Lady Brienne of Tarth, and he would be holding a ball in Castle Rock in a months time to celebrate the occasion, he wanted Lord Robert's permission to allow Lady Baratheon to go there immediately so she could overlook the preparations. Lady Cersei, kind as always had said it would be her pleasure, and excused herself from the table as she wanted to pack immediately.
The dinner went on as always and once it was done Joffrey escorted her back to her rooms, bid her a good night and stole another kiss leaving her dazed..
While Shae brushed her hair and wondered if they would order a new dress for her to wear at the Lannister's engagement party or if the black dress would be fine someone knocked on the door.
"It's me little dove" said Lady Cersei from outside
Sansa hurriedly put on her robe while Shae opened the door. Lady Cersei's face was flushed and her eyes shined, she looked anxious and way too pale.
"Don't be so skitish Little Dove, come sit by me" Lady Cersei said putting the corner of the bed
"Is something the matter?" she asked confused.
Lady Cersei unexpectedly buried Sansa in her arms and started to sob uncontrolably all the while strocking her hair and murmuring words that Sansa never catched. After a while Lady Cersei seemed to calm down enough to let go of her. Sansa's mind was a whirl of confussion, Lady Cersei was always so composed she never imagined to see her in this state.
"Would your maid be so kind as to fetch me some water Little Dove?" Asked Lady Cersei in a weak hoarse voice. Sansa nodded in Shae's direction.
"Can I do something for you Lady Cersei?" she asked.
Lady Cersei shook her head, and drank from the cup Shae had poured.Then turned to look at Sansa again.
"Poor Little Dove, such terrible things you have gone through and still you ask if I need help" Lady Cersei caressed her face affectionately, still Sansa felt startled because this voice and her eyes were the same as when she told Sansa of her parents and Robb. " I have some things to tell you my dear" Lady Cersei took her hands and squeezed them " You have to be strong dear girl"
Fear gripped Sansa's chest, something happened. Something horrid.
"Pirates attacked Winterfell." said Lady Cersei at last " It was so sudden, they never go that farther up land. They killed everyone in the castle, and then burned the place down after they robbed it"
No! This had to be a nightmare, it couldn't be like that, Winterfell was strong and so were Ser Rodrick and his knights, there is no way something like that could happen.
"I understand it must be quite shocking my dear, but well, Lord Bolton wrote this letter, he was the first one to arrive at Winterfell, it seems the Maester got to send a few ravens but no bannerman could have possibly traveled that fast.–"
Sansa knew Lady Lannister was still talking but she couldn't hear anything, her own heartbeat muffled the sound of everything else, it was so loud and quick, the world went out of focus and darkness enveloped her. Sansa welcomed that sweet nothingness, because once she woke up this horrible nightmare would be over.
.
.
Sansa woke up hours later, Her neck was hurting and the bed seemed to be moving. She rose and immediately realized she was not in her room at Storm's End, she was in a carriage with Lady Cersei and Shae.
"Where are se going?" she whispered. Her throat was almost closed.
"Oh Little Dove, we thought you would sleep all through the night. You are coming with me to Castle Rock, the Maester said a change of scenery and some seaside air would be good for you"
She frowned "What happened to me?
Lady Lannister shook her head "Let us talk tomorrow dear, you need your rest. Joffrey was most worried about you he didn't want to let you out of his sight but the Maester and his Lord father calmed him down"
The nightmare came unbound to her mind, she willed it away with toughts of Joffrey and of the ball, it would surely be beautiful, she and Joffrey would dance the night away bathed in moonlight with the sweet music blending with the sound of the crashing waves. Sansa closed her eyes, fabricating in her mind beautiful and sweet stories to keep at bay those dark awful thoughts that wanted to choke her mind.
“I won’t go” Sansa was determined to stand her ground now more that ever, she refused to go South again.
Her father sighed while her mother looked at her perplexed and hurt, of course she would, she remembered that innocent obidient girl she sent to her sister to foster at the Vale, but she had long since stopped being her, in fact she barely recalled what it felt like to be that naive girl, that starry-eyed Sansa Stark seemed like a far away dream now.
“You must” said Catelyn gathering strenght, what in heaven had happened to her sweet girl? “King Rhaegar wishes to make your aquintance, we are in no position to refuse”
“Why not?” she was in the border of hysterics, she wasn’t going to leave Winterfell, her own home when she had just returned! “He is the one who has no right to ask anything of us after what he did to Aunt Lyanna!”
Ned looked sadly at his daughter, the pretty and gente girl who dreamed with songs and princes, maybe it would have been better if he and Cat had made her more aware of how the real world was like before sending her out to it. Now it was too late, only the gods know what got on Sansa’s head for her to act like this.
“That is precisely the reason why” said Catelyn “the King wishes to make amends with the North looking for a advatageous match for you in the Capital, you’ll attend the court, and the tourneys, all you’ve ever wanted”
“I don’t want it anymore!” she half- screamed, half-sobbed “Nobody will ever marry me for love! I am not so stupid to believe so, not anymore. Make a match with whatever lord you see fit but don’t send me away.”
Catelyn’s heart broke, what girl of barely five and ten would say such a thing? Why had her beautiful girl given up all her hopes and dreams?
“You will go” Ned had his stern Lord of Winterfell face on. As a father it was hard to see his daughter in such a state, he barely knew what had transpired at the Vale for she refused to speak about it. But as a Lord Paramount of the North he had to obey the King, Sansa’s attitude was all to similar to Lyanna refusing to marry Robert and he despaired to think she would have a similar fate, he would not allow it.
Besides he still hoped a taste of the luxury of the court life and all the things Sansa had loved so well in the past could make her return to her old sweet and gente self, he realised how foolish that hope was, but it was all he could do for her at the moment.
Hi! I saw you were open for the five word prompt thing for jonsa - bra, garbage, suck, icing and towel please
11/22/63 AU!
Flakes of snow fluttered down outside, the roads would be icing in no time, and as strange as it was Dallas would soon be covered in a white blanket.
More like a shroud, Jon thought, but then dispelled such grim image he didn’t want to think about anything related to death, not now with Sansa’s warm body pressed against him.
They had been quite some time like this, silent, each lost in their own thoughts, and Jon did not dare to break that silence, he was afraid of what she would say, he had told her everything about him coming from the future, about Davos and the promise he had made him to stop President’s Kennedy murder… Fuck he knew it wasn’t something easy on the mind, if Davos hadn’t show him the wierd portal at his Dinner’s storage room before explaining just what it was Jon would have laughed his ass off, and he really loved Sansa, that was the only real thing about this fake life he had created here.
“So what’s your plan?” she asked at last, her slender fingers tracing random patterns on his chest.
He sucked in his breath “I don’t know yet, Mr. Seaworth thought it was Oswald, was almost sure of it but he could very well be wrong, said the proof was with General Walker”
“The one running for governor? What has that man got to do with anything?”
Jon licked his lips “Supposedly someone, well Oswald, he is going to shot General Walker in his house on November– but he is gonna fail” Sansa’s horrified face made him and add a hurry.
“So Mr. Seaworth thought that if this Oswald attempted against General Walker he must be behind the President’s murder” she stared blankly at the wall of the wooden cabin they were in, this all sounded like madness, time travel, assasination attempts, communist immigrants having a secret society… she believed in Jon nonetheless so maybe she was mad too.
“That’s the basic idea, yeah”
“So you’re just gonna show up at this General’s house the same day he is gonna get shot?” Sansa frowned and turned to look into his eyes willing him to see the utter idiocy of this plan “That’s very dangerous Jon, there are so many things that could go wrong with such a silly plan! You could be seen by the shooter for starters or the police may catch you, even the neighbors could testify the saw someone suspiciously rounding the house–”
“No, I made sure nothing like that would happen” he cut as she grew more frantic rubbing his thumb over her bra straps all the way to the hollow of her neck trying to soothe her “There is an empty lot behind the house, they have a big trash container there I will just stand atop it, it gives a good peripherical view to the area, no neighboor or police will see me I promise”
She sighed, this plan was still ridiculous in her mind, hiding in the garbage was even more suspicious but she was tired of disscussing and had no better alternatives to offer.
Sansa desentangled herself from his embrace “I’m going to take a shower” she bent over to give him a peck.
Jon stayed in bed watching her retrieve a towel from the little closet in the cabin, enjoying the way the warm light catched in her auburn her, trying to engrave into his memory the elegant curves of her body, her almost translucent skin contrasting with her silky green lingerie and the glorious and messy tumble of red locks swaying at every step she gave, he decided then he would not let go of her even after this was over, perharps he could stay here with her, keep giving classes living a small town life in the style of the 60’s or if that wasn’t possible he would try to take her to the craziness of the 21st century, anything was fine as long as she was with him.
..Hey annony! Maybe this is not what you were thinking of with that word selection but I really suck at writing smut still I really hope you enjoy this!
Jon x Sansa- coworkers working on the same project
Legally Redhead AU!
“We are going to lose Sansa” Jon looked at her directly beside him with her outrageous neon-orange laptop in front of her and the case’s papers which they had gone through most of the night neatly arranged “We need Shae’s alibi, I really admire your loyalty to her but if we want to prove her innocence we–”
“There must be a way Jon! There must be something we are not seeing”
And she said so with such an spirit and conviction that he almost believed it, no, he did believe it, this amazing girl had made every pretentious condecending fucker at Harvard realize she was more than a pretty face, if anyone could find a way to prove Shae Lannister’s innocence that would be her.
“We have gone through all the material Sansa” he repeated more gently this time “Every testimony points to Shae, for fuck’s sake Cersei Lannister said in hers that she saw her covered in blood.”
Sansa bit her lip “I know but–” her eyes widened suddenly, a flicker of understanding shining on them “Oh my god Jon she did it!”
“Cersei?” he asked flabbergasted, how could she reach such a conclussion?
She grabbed Cersei’s testimony and turned to the second page “Here!” she said with a triumphant expression pointing with her well-manicured finger at a random paragraph, Jon knew the entire testimony by heart at this point and still could not see her reasoning.
“Sansa, that is just Cersei’s alibi, she went to get her perm done at the saloon, that is why she wasn’t home, then she took a shower that is why she never heard the shot–”
Sansa snorted “God, you man can be so daft, Jon let me tell you a little story, back in Delta Nu, my sorority house, this girl named Lolly got a perm– she totally shouldn’t have though, her bone structure wasn’t like Cersei's– anyway luckily for Lolly that same day a frat house was having a wet shirt contest, she got soaked from head to toe.”
“You completely lost me there Sansa” said Jon
“You see” she leaned forward “It’s a well known rule, or it should be, that you can’t get your hair wet in the next 24 hours after you get your perm done, water activates the chemical in the perm and completely ruins it!”
This time Jon definitely got it “She lied!”
“Exactly! Just like she was lying about that guy Olyvar having an affair with Shae” she said excitedly, but then she seemed to sober up “Anyway, I just really wanted to help and I am happy Shae will be discharged, I wish I could see the trial”
Jon understood her quick change of mood then, his fists clenched, if Mister Baelish had kept his hands to himself, such man didn’t deserved to have a career at all…
“Maybe you can” he said suddenly “There is a law, it states that a student can lead a case”
“Only under the supervision of a licensed lawyer” she said dejected “I really appreciate the intention Jon, but I won’t ask Mr. Baelish for his ‘supervision’ not for anything else, the only reason I didn’t dropped out of the program was Miss Brienne”
He stood up and kneeled in front of her “Who said anything about Baelish? Look at that wall” he said pointing behind himself, she nodded “That thing framed there is my law license, which makes me by definition a licensed lawyer”
She shook her head “Jon you can’t do that your internship–”
“Can go to hell, I won’t work with Littlefinger even if my life depended on it”
She giggled and threw her arms around him squeezing him tight against her soft body, Jon tried not to enjoy it to no avail, he knew he didn’t had a chance in hell with Sansa, she was waiting for Harry fucking Hardying to get his head out of his ass to finally see her, but he was just human, of course he would fall for the girl who only looked at him as a friend, not that he didn’t enjoy being her friend but…
“We have a lot of planning to do, but first of course we need to coordinate our outfits!”
