#merry crimbo you filthy animals <3

[nyangibun]

Merry Christmas to all of my Jonsa fam! Here’s a little present for you guys! I hope you enjoy it and thank you for making the past year so fun for me in this fandom. Love you guys!! 

Jon has never actually met his neighbour before. She only moved in two months ago, but already, he knows far too much about her than he really needs to.

She has a dog that howls every other night, which sets off Ghost, who howls back, and for five minutes, their two dogs have some kind of 101 Dalmatians Twilight Bark conversation.

She loves to bake because he can smell it every time he comes home after a long shift at the station. This is more annoying than the howling because Jon can’t bake for shit and it’s not like he can go next door and ask her for whatever she’s baking.

She also has a seriously unhealthy relationship with Amazon because he gets a delivery guy knocking on his door looking for her every now and then. That’s how he also knows that her name is Sansa Stark.

He also knows that she’s single and he actually feels guilty for knowing this, but it was hard not to overhear the explosive breakup she had with her ex a couple weeks after she moved in. They were practically screaming at each other and these walls are too fucking thin. He feels bad for her, even considered knocking on her door and asking if she needed anything, but that’s definitely verging on creepy neighbour territory and Jon isn’t exactly the outgoing type. He reassures himself that she’s better off. Her ex sounded like a right prick.

But aside from his sympathy for having to deal with a breakup, Jon dislikes Sansa on principle. Her stupid dog gets his stupid dog too excited; her damn baking makes him crave pastries so much he’s put on several pounds since she moved in because he keeps stopping at pastry shops on the way home; and for god’s sake, he really doesn’t need to be woken up from his mid-afternoon naps to the delivery guy because she still can’t properly remember her address.

As Christmas rolls around, his less than high opinion of her takes a serious nosedive when he realises that Sansa is a huge fan of Christmas carols. At first, it’s innocent. He hears her singing ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’ in the shower, which is just the weirdest fucking song to be singing in the shower, but he puts it to the back of his mind as he gets dressed to go on another blind date that Sam’s set up for him. It’s when he gets back from said blind date in a very sour mood that he decides he definitively hates her carolling because the last thing anyone wants after accidentally spilling wine down their date’s dress is to hear a very loud rendition of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’.

But it’s Christmas, right? What kind of an asshole would he be if banged against the wall to someone just getting in the Christmas spirit? So Jon does what every twenty-something bachelor does: he drinks a six-pack of beer by himself and passes out in front of the telly.

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A week of house calls leaves Jon too exhausted to notice if she’s still singing in her flat. He assumes she’s probably gone back home for the holidays, and so Christmas Eve, Jon settles down in front of his telly, a pizza in front of him and another six-pack to get him through this miserable holiday. It’s not as if Jon doesn’t have any offers for the holidays. His dad’s family invited him weeks ago. Sam and Gilly invited him too; even Tormund invited him round to spend it with his new girlfriend; but Jon is determined to be miserable this holiday. So what if Ygritte dumped him in August? Does moping have a time limit? Jon thinks not.

He’s just nodding off when abruptly something draws him back to reality. At first, he’s too drunk and groggy to really realise what woke him up, but then, there it is… Sansa bloody Stark is singing ‘All I Want For Christmas is You’ at – Jon checks the clock on the wall and immediately swears out loud – three in the fucking morning!

What the hell is this girl doing?

Jon swings his legs over the sofa and storms out of his flat to her door, pounding a little forcefully. He doesn’t care if she’s got her entire sodding family over. It’s three in the morning and he really wants to pass out in peace. Is that too much to ask for?

His mental rant peters off when Sansa reaches a high note in the song and completely nails it, begrudgingly earning his respect despite the fact that he’s still pissed as all hell. He makes a note to tell her she sounds good at a later date when he’s not about to scream at her. Jon knocks again, and thankfully, this time she hears him as the music cuts out and her dog starts barking loudly.

He hears the door rattle as she unlocks it, so he decides to get a head start.

“Listen, I don’t care if this makes me the Grinch, but it’s three in the –”

Sansa Stark is quite frankly the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on and Jon suddenly forgets why he’s there but to stare at the smooth expanse of skin on display, the fiery shine of red hair and that guilt-ridden face with those rosy pink lips.

Jon clears his throat. “It’s three in the morning,” he says with a little less vehemence. “If you and your friends could just keep it down, I’d really appreci –”

“It’s just me,” Sansa cuts in. Her eyes drop down to the floor and her expression immediately melts into something else, something that makes him ache a little to see. “I’m really sorry. I’ll… I should probably just go to sleep anyways.”

“What do you mean it’s only you?” he asks, unable to keep the curiosity at bay. It’s then he glances into her flat and realises it’s empty save for a white and grey Siberian Husky sitting in the corner by the tiny Christmas tree like some kind of Hallmark postcard.

Sansa chuckles softly and shrugs. “I was…” She inhales deeply and looks up to catch his eyes as if steeling herself for whatever she’s about to say. “I was supposed to spend it with my ex, so my family are all in Spain right now for Christmas and it’s just… I guess singing Christmas songs makes me feel a little less lonely.”

Well, fuck… Jon feels like a right tit now and maybe it’s the guilt or maybe it’s because he just really wants to see her smile, but the words are out before he has any idea what he’s just said. “You should come over.”

Sansa blinks, startled, and so he powers through.

“I mean… it’s Christmas now, right? And I’ve got a large pizza I haven’t finished and a bottle of wine someone gave me at work. I can’t promise you I’ll sing with you, but I’m pretty sure our dogs could sing together for us.”

Slowly, tentatively, her lips twitch and before he knows it, Sansa Stark is beaming at him, all toothy and gorgeous and utterly breathtaking, that all he can do is smile dumbly back.

“Okay,” she says. “Okay, let me… I baked cookies so I can bring that. Oh, I have Christmas crackers too! And…” She looks away bashfully. “Sorry, I just really love Christmas.”

He laughs. “You don’t say…”

Sansa giggles, as she goes inside to grab her things, and that’s how five minutes later, Jon finds himself on his sofa beside her, finally tasting one of her cookies and deciding that he definitely wants to marry this girl, if only for the baking alone.

He tells her so, to which she just blushes and giggles. “Thank you, but I think you’ll be rethinking that when you see how crazy my family is.”

Jon grabs another cookie and purposefully bites into it while looking at her. “Worth it.”

“Flirt,” she mumbles and rolls her eyes. Sansa tucks her feet in underneath herself and leans her head against the back of his sofa. “So I have a confession to make…”

Jon swallows and nods. “Go ahead. It’s Christmas after all. Time for confessions.”

“Well,” she fingers the hem of her red cotton dress. “I’ve been purposefully sending my post to you in the hopes that you’d come over.” She looks away and shrugs. “If I’d known all I had to do was sing Christmas songs really badly at three in the morning, I would’ve just done that.”

“I… what?” It’d be an understatement to say that Jon is speechless. He’s completely baffled. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” Sansa glances up, a furrow between her brows. “You’re hot and you’re a firefighter. That’s like every straight girl’s dream.”

Jon’s mouth is suddenly dry as he laughs awkwardly. “Uh… is that why you order so much crap from Amazon?”

Sansa laughs, surprised. “What? No, that’s… You’re going to think I’m such a grandma, but that’s just my knitting supplies. I’ve been making scarves for my family. Oh my god!” She suddenly jumps up from the sofa. “Do you want one?” Before he has a chance to answer, she’s racing out of the room and he hears her door bang open.

He should really be taking this time to mull over what she’d just said, but it’s too surreal for Jon to even fully comprehend. One minute, he’s fuming and raging a full on tirade against his faceless neighbour, and the next, he’s spending Christmas with her drinking wine and eating cookies, chatting about their lives like they’re old friends. How does something like that happen?

“Okay, so it’s just a stupid scarf, but…” She trails off as she comes barging back into his flat and jumping onto his sofa, causing it to dip slightly towards her. Sansa leans forward as she offers the scarf up to him, showing him the detail she put into it. “Here, you have little wolves on it. It was supposed to be of Lady, but it could be Ghost too, you know?”

Jon takes the scarf from her and stares down at the dark grey wool scarf with the little dancing wolves on each end. His throat feels tight and he’s overcome with such a rush of gratitude and affection that he just closes the gap between them and pecks her on the lips without thinking. Jon draws back, wide-eyed and immediately apologetic. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. This is just the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me. I’m sorry.”

Sansa is silent for a few seconds before she’s suddenly throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her lips insistently against his, practically crawling onto his lap. Jon is not complaining.

“Merry Christmas, Jon,” she murmurs against his lips. “Thanks for making it feel like one again.”

Jon kisses her again after he realises that she tastes far better than her cookies. “Merry Christmas, Sansa.”

Yeah, he’s definitely going to marry this girl one day.