Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Two (Completed)

Sansa Stark X Best Friend! Reader - Fuckin' Perfect

A/N- This imagine is based on the song 'Fuckin' Perfect' by P!nk. It's another short one but I  hope you all enjoy it anyway.

You and Sansa had been friends for as long as you could remember. No, not just friends; Best friends... gods, you'd even consider her a sister. When she was happy, you had been happy with her; when she was scared you would huddle under her covers with her and soothe her fears.  You loved her.

When Sansa had left Winterfell, you had both promised to remain in contact. You had tried writing, sending the letters back and forth, and it had worked for a while. But then, weekly letters turned into fortnightly, and fortnightly letters turned into monthly, and soon enough your contact stopped entirely. 

You'd known of her father's imprisonment, and had seen Robb and Theon march off to war, but after that you had become clueless.

Theon had returned, of course, but not with the purest of intentions, and you had been forced to remain as one of his prisoners as you watched even more Stark's leaving Winterfell. By the time Ramsay Bolton took the keep, there were no Stark's left in their home.

Each time you thought of Sansa, lost somewhere out in the world, and unable to return home, you grew scared. But she couldn't return, you were certain of it. With the Bolton's controlling Winterfell she would never be safe in the North.

Ramsay was forceful and cruel to his core, everyone had known it from the moment he had taken your home back from Theon. You had all heard of the things he had done to the boy, and where fear overcame you, self-preservation became your most important goal. You knew that what you were doing for him was wrong, sharing his bed and stroking his ego, but you would not allow yourself to feel guilty for keeping yourself safe.

When Sansa had finally returned to Winterfell, all of that had fallen away. She was to marry him, and you could not bring yourself to sleep beside your closest friends betrothed. Ramsay was brutal with you after that. His touches becoming grotesque as he forcibly had his way with you. 

Of course, you could see how Sansa had changed since she had been in the capital. She was prettier, leaner, a woman. And Ramsay could see it too. When he wasn't taking you, he was having his pretty new wife.  

Some nights, after Ramsay had retired to his chambers, you would sneak out of your own, making your way almost silently to where Sansa lay crying in her bed. 

"My Lady," you had started softly the first time, and Sansa was quick to look at you, fear and pain clear in her wide eyed stare.

She was surprised to see the bruise that ran along your cheekbone, even more so when you stepped closer and climbed into her bed as you had when you were children. "Y/N."

You burrowed close to her, wrapping yourself around her like a child clinging to her mother. And then a sob had escaped you.

"Does he hurt you too?" The soft utterance had caught you off guard. No one had ever worried about your pain, not since the last of the Stark's had left Winterfell.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "It's not your doing," you murmured back, pressing yourself closer to her, "he was a brute long before you came home." 

"I'm sorry he was ever here." Her voice was so soft that it made your want to cry. "If it weren't for us leaving-"

"You never knew."

"But-"

"Stop apologising for things you cannot control." You paused for a moment, lifting a hand to stroke her cheek. "We will find a way to get through this."

Sansa's face softened slightly as she leant forward, pressing her face into your chest as tears began to fall once more. 

*Time Skip*

Winterfell belonged to the Starks again. As many times as you had heard it, you couldn't quite bring yourself to believe the words. Ramsay Bolton was dead. Jon had returned. Sansa was safe. You were happy again. 

You had taken to sleeping beside Sansa most nights, it was the only way either of you could get any rest. You felt like you were safer beside her, felt as though you could protect her from anything that wished her harm. Jon had been confused at first, watching as the two of you had basically clung to one another since your arrival at Castle Black. You could see his concern, and had attempted to calm him, only to allow all of the pain of the last few years escape you. 

"He did unspeakable things to her, Jon. To both of us. And we just let him."

Jon had pulled you into a tight hug, burying your face against his leather chest piece and taking, deep calming breaths. "What could you have done?"

"I should have stopped him from hurting her."

"But he was hurting you too."

You released a shaking breath, "but-"

"Sansa is a lot stronger than you think she is." Jon paused for a moment, holding you tighter. "There is nothing you could have done that would have ended with you both alive and safe."

You nodded slightly against him. 

"You don't need to beat yourself up over this. The only one to blame is him, and he's gone now. He can't hurt you any more."

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