#Ygritte x reader
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lumillsie · 14 days ago
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ game of thrones masterlist. ੈ✩‧₊˚
╰┈➤ robb stark, sansa stark, jon snow, daenerys targaryen, jaime lannister, margaery tyrell, cersei lannister, ramsay bolton, tywin lannister, tyrion lannister, joffrey baratheon, theon greyjoy, viserys targaryen, oberyn martell, bronn of the blackwater, edmure tully, ygritte
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ robb stark. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ sansa stark. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jon snow. ੈ✩‧₊˚
all my life ( jon snow x f!arryn reader)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ daenerys targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jaime lannister. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ margaery tyrell. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cersei lannister. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ramsay bolton. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ tywin lannister. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ tyrion lannister. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ theon greyjoy. ੈ✩‧₊˚
theon greyjoy x mermaid!reader headcanons
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ viserys targaryen. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ oberyn martell. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bronn of the blackwater. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ edmure tully. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ygritte. ੈ✩‧₊˚
tba.
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j-k-writes · 1 month ago
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Hello bro, would you ever write a Ygritte x male reader x Tormund, in which the reader is part of the Night’s watch as well, and is with Jon when the whole situation with the wildlings happen in aprox. season 3? Perhaps with “I don’t do well when you’re away” and “no. Its non-negotiable. You’re staying here” as prompts?
Love your Rhaenyra x reader series🙏
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Summary - Y/N had been a Man of The Night's Watch since he was barely a man, but when he and his fellow brother-in-arms Jon are taken in by the wildlings, he wonders if he'd chosen the wrong side. Two wildlings kissed by fire are determined to show him that he did.
Warnings - General GOT warnings, innuendos (?)
Thank you!
Used a mix of book a show canon to make the plot make sense.
“Tormund climb the wall.” Mance had declared. “Take Orell and twenty good men, take these two. They know Castle Black’s defenses better than any of us, and if they’re useful, good. If not, throw them off the wall.” 
It had been a month since they’d set off for the wall. Y/N had made longer journeys ranging past the wall before, but Jon hadn’t and Y/N could see the effort of it all was taking its toll on the younger man. Y/N sympathized with the man, the act of pretending to betray his brother’s was taking its toll on Y/N as well, but he doubted it was the same as Jon. Y/N found himself dreading his ultimate return to Castle Black more and more the closer they got to the wall. 
Ygritte wasn’t helping his dread in the slightest. 
The girl in question took a seat by him at the fire, resting her thigh directly next to his. “You’ve got a funny look on your face.” 
“What?” Y/N turned away from the fire, facing her. 
“What?” She mimicked, turning her lips down in a frown, probably meant to imitate his own. He laughed, shoving her away, she caught his arm as he did so, pulling herself closer to him. She smiled, rubbing her nose against his before catching his lips in a kiss. 
Y/N grasped her face, deepening the kiss. Her hands found their way into his furs, and she began to maneuver her way into the man’s lap. But she was stopped by a loud cough beside Y/N. Y/N pulled away, face burning, and he turned to face the other ginger of the camp. 
Tormund had a smug look on his face, taking a seat next to Y/N, “A couple of rabbits, the both of you.” 
Y/N reddened further, and Ygritte just laughed, shifting to sit even closer to Y/N. “Don’t be jealous, Tormund. If you want to share, you can just ask.” 
Y/N made to stand up, “I’m going to go find Jon.” 
Tormund grabbed his arm, dragging him back to the ground. “She is just messing with you, boy.” 
Tormund gave Y/N his usual teasing smile, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. Y/N breathed out, nodding, and settling into his place between the two wildlings. He knew Ygritte was just joking, but the way she looked between him and Tormund when she thought Y/N wasn’t looking made him uneasy. He liked Ygritte, he’d known that since she brought him and Jon to the wildling camp, making lewd jokes at the both of them the entire way. 
But Tormund, Y/N didn’t know how he felt about the man. 
He was an attractive man, Y/N couldn’t deny that. But Jon was an attractive man, and Y/N didn’t feel the same dread in his gut when he was alone with Jon that he did when he was alone with the wildling. Tormund had been sticking close to both Y/N and Ygritte since it had become obvious Ygritte had won the ex-Man of The Night’s Watch over, if that’s what it could be called. Never leaving the two of them alone long enough to have a repeat of their night in the cave. 
Ygritte was amused by the wildling man’s actions, but Y/N couldn’t help the thoughts his sudden change in behavior brought. And he wondered if the two wildlings were the same in more than just their hair color. 
“I need to talk to you.” Tormund cleared his throat, looking away from the man and toward the fire. 
“So talk.” Ygritte said, humor falling off her face. 
“We’re climbing the wall tomorrow.” 
Y/N nodded, “I know that.” 
“No.” Tormund scratched his beard, “We’re climbing the wall tomorrow, you are not.” 
Y/N’s expression hardened. “What.” 
Tormund sighed, and Ygritte spoke. “What do you mean he’s not climbing the wall? You’re just gonna leave him behind? He’s proven-” 
“I know what he’s proven!” Tormund interrupted her, wincing at the volume of his voice and lowering it when he spoke again. “This is not about what he has or hasn’t proven.” 
“Then what is it about?” Y/N spat, and Tormund winced at the tone of his voice. 
“Be honest with me, boy. With your leg and this walking, do you think you can climb the wall tomorrow?” 
Y/N opened his mouth in shock, he’d thought he’d been able to hide the pain in his leg well. The accident was years ago, and it had healed well. Y/N had brushed off the sharp pains in his leg as the cold making his muscles stiff, and nothing more. But apparently Tormund paid more attention to him than he thought. 
“My leg is fine.” Y/N kept his voice flat, and Ygritte just looked confused, her gaze flicking between the two men. 
“I know what a bum leg looks like, boy.” 
Y/N’s nostrils flared in anger, “I do not have a bum leg, and you are not leaving me behind tomorrow.” 
Tormund clasped his shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look which just made Y/N angrier. He tried to shove the hand off, but Tormund just grasped him tighter. “You don’t need to prove your strength to me. But I will not have you risking your life for pride. We will climb the wall, and you will stay behind with a smaller party, when we’re over we’ll lower a ladder and you will join us.” 
“Are you not risking my life by leaving me here?” Y/N sneered, turning to Ygritte. The expression on her face already told Y/N whose side she was on and Y/N deflated slightly. “I- I don’t do well when you two are away. They don’t trust me like you do, they’ll use any excuse to kill me as soon as you leave.” 
Ygritte cupped his cheek, touching her forehead to his. “Then you kill them first.” 
Y/N sighed, “Ygritte-” 
She shushed him, “You’re mine, Y/N. You don’t get to kill yourself because of your stupid crow pride.” 
“You will be fine.” Y/N turned to Tormund, who squeezed his shoulder where his hand still rested. “You are strong. You have wildling fire inside of you, you have to if you’re keeping up with her.” 
Ygritte laughed behind him, and Y/N gave a small smile. “I am not going to change your mind, am I?” 
Tormund shook his head, brushing loose hair out of Y/N eyes. “No. It's non-negotiable. You’re staying here” 
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bumblesimagines · 1 year ago
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Imagine:
Getting with Ygritte
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Request: Yes or No
~~~
Pulling an arrow from your quiver, you crept through the grass, eyes trained on the oblivious hare. Drawing the arrow and aiming, you took in a quiet breath and held it, steadying your hands. Right before you released it, another arrow whizzed through the air and struck the hare, killing it before you could blink.
Slumping your shoulders and standing up, you shoved the arrow back into your quiver with a small huff. "Do you ever get tired of being a pain in the ass?"
"No." Ygritte cackled, brushing past you to happily retrieve the hare. She pulled the arrow out of it and wiped the blood off on her pants, a wide satisfied grin on her face. Despite rolling your eyes at her, you couldn't help the small smile that spread on your lips.
"You can keep it, I guess. It's your kill."
"Could have been yours if you didn't take your sweet time." Ygritte said with a light shrug, tucking her arrow away and hoisting the hare up by its ear. "You wait too damn long."
"And you don't wait enough."
"Yeah, well, slowness ain't going to help when we're trying to get some crows. They'll shoot you down before you even get the chance to pull out an arrow." Ygritte expertly tied rope around the rabbit, ensuring the knot would hold.
"I can take care of myself, Ygritte."
"Can you? Sometimes I feel like I'm the one taking care of you. I mean, I hunt and I fight for you. How are you gonna kill some crows when you don't even attack when someone insults you? I have to be the one who throws the punch for you. I'm the one-" You watched her continue her rant, her words coming out fast. She moved her arms around wildly and shifted occasionally, causing strands of red hair to tumble down her shoulders and over her chest. When she turned her head in the direction of the sun, it illuminated her face and showed off the freckles scattered across her skin. And her eyes.. her pretty eyes.
Closing the distance with four quick steps, you grabbed the sides of her face and pressed your lips against hers, interrupting her mid-rant. The hare slipped from her hands and landed on the grass with a soft thud, her body tensing. It only took a few seconds for her brain to catch up and she tossed her arms around him, kissing you hard so hard her teeth nearly clashed with yours. Her feelings had been so secret to you, but it was fun to watch her get frustrated when you ignored her flirting and hints.
You pulled away, chuckling breathlessly when she leaned after you. She loosened her arms, letting her hands slip down to your chest. A small smirk appeared on her face and she hummed. "Took you long enough. You're mine now."
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fantasydreamland · 2 months ago
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My Saviour
jon snow x fem reader
Summary: After escaping a wildling raid you find yourself being chased by a hungry wolf until a man of the Nights Watch rescues you. Your first night sleeping at castle black has you shivering to the bone until you seek warmth in your rescuer.
Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! some violence in opening story, smut, loss of virginity, p in v, fluff, some spoilers
word count: 3004
masterlist
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You just barely escaped your village being raided by wildlings. You saw some others escape in the opposite direction while everyone else was slaughtered like animals. You sprinted as fast as you could into the woods after seeing your family killed before your eyes.
Once you managed to get far enough away to catch your breath you stop behind a tree, panting onto your frozen hands. A twig snaps and your eyes dart up to meet a pair of vicious golden eyes through the thick snow watching you from another nearby tree. The wolf growls and before you have time to think it sprints towards you. You let out an unintentional scream and bolt in the other direction trying to twist and turn through trees to throw it off your path.
Frozen tears run down your face and your skin screams from the frost bite as you run for your life. Eventually you are led to a small frozen river. You carefully step a foot onto the ice and it lightly cracks. You quickly remove your foot until you see the wolf turn from behind a tree and spot you. You hold your breath and quickly tiptoe along the cracking ice. The wolf chases after you but then stops dead at the edge of the ice as if it knows the danger.
Halfway to the other side of the lake you slip and smash into the ice scraping open your exposed skin and causing the ice to form a much larger crack. You freeze in horror as you watch the loud crack slowly expand.
“Here! Quickly!” You hear a man’s voice shout to you. He spots the wolf on the other side as it turns around and leaves.
You look up to see a very handsome man in all black jumping off of his horse and pulling off his large fur cloak. He throws one end of the cloak towards you to grab onto. You grab it tightly as he slowly pulls you towards him. Your mind was in such a state of shock you no longer felt the ice nipping at your skin as you slid against it.
You began to shuffle closer and the ice let out another loud crack.
“Careful.” The man’s wide eyes met yours, he looked nearly as scared as you. “Remain still, just let me pull you.”
You nodded and put your full trust in this total stranger as he carefully pulled you off the ice and lifted you to stand. You instantly begin to fall over, your frozen bones not able to hold you up any longer.
“Gods, you’re frozen.” the man says as he wraps the cloak around you and rubs your arms to try and warm you.
“Do you think you can get up?” He says gesturing his head to his horse.
You nod, unable to speak through the shivering. He puts a hand on your back as you put your foot through the stirrup. His strong hands grab your sides and lift you up onto the horse. He quickly gets on behind you. You sigh as his warmth radiates against your back, you couldn’t help but press into him.
His arms remain tightly around you as he rode quickly. To where? You didn’t know. But the man just saved your life, you couldn’t help but trust him.
“Thank you.” You choked out in a breathy whisper.
“Shh,” he said as his arms squeezed you tighter. “You’re safe now.”
**********
You barely remember the rest of the ride as you drift in and out of consciousness.
“Rider!” You heard a man yell far in the distance.
A loud horn blows and you open your eyes again. Your blurry vision adjusts to a giant wall of ice. The wall. This was Castle Black and this was a man of the Nights Watch. You felt slightly relieved as they’ve been known to protect the people against wildlings.
The large dark door began to creek open slowly. Finally, it loudly came to a halt and he rode in.
Your mind was too hazy to comprehend your surroundings. You could barely see the blurry visions of men dressed in all black through the snow. Soon you began to drift off again.
“Who is this?” You heard a man say.
“I don’t know. I heard a scream then I found her being chased by a wolf.” Your rescuers voice radiated against you as he held you in his arms. You couldn’t even remember him taking you off the horse. “She’s frozen half to death.”
“Bring her inside.” The other man said.
**********
The next time you awoke you felt much warmer. You open your eyes to see yourself in a bed of furs in a small dark room with a warm fire going. You look to your side to see the man watching you from a chair. He flinches when you make eye contact with him.
“I- I’m sorry I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He says shyly. You give him a soft smile.
“Thank you.” You say quietly.
He nods. “Are… are you alright?”
“I think so…” you say unsure.
“Well, there’s a warm bath and fresh clothing waiting for you.” He gestures to a tub in the corner.
You sit up and hiss in pain. You suddenly became more awake and aware of the pain radiating throughout your entire body. The man jumps out of his chair to help you out of the bed.
“Thank you again, sir.”
“Jon,” he says. “Jon Snow.”
“Jon.” You smile at him as you take his hand. “I’m (y/n).”
He gives you a sweet smile. He helps you up and leads you to the tub.
“I’ll give you some privacy.”
“Could you…” you quickly say. “I don’t know if I can do this on my own right now…”
“Oh, um, yes. I can- I can help you, if you want.” He says timidly.
You nod and turn your back as he comes closer to you. He unties the strings of your tattered dress and his fingers brush against your skin causing electricity. He turns his gaze away as you slowly pull your dress off your body, leaving you fully exposed. Your heart races as he lends you his hand to hold while you step into the tub. Heat rises in his cheeks and it takes all his will power to not stare at your naked body.
Your weak arms shake as you lower yourself into the warm water. Your hand grasps on the edge of the tub as your other squeezes tightly onto Jon’s. The warm water soothes and stings your skin at the same time. You lean forward so all he can see is your bare back which was covered with cuts and bruises.
The air is tense as you both move in silence. He sits down on the stool beside the tub. He grabs a sponge and soaks it in the water before lightly wiping your back. You hiss and quickly he pulls away.
“It’s ok.” Your eyes meet his with a soft look.
He nods as he continues to gently wipe the dried blood from your skin. The tenderness of his touch makes you sigh. When he’s finished he grabs a small pale beside the tub and scoops up some water.
“Lean your head back a little.” He says almost in a whisper.
You do as he says and lean your head back. You close your eyes as he pours water over your hair. You sigh and lean more into his touch as his fingers work through your hair. The new angle giving him a slight view of your exposed breasts makes him nearly choke on air.
You turn your head and look into his eyes as he gently wipes the remaining blood from your face. The world felt still as you gazed at each other. Staring deep into each others eyes felt like you had known one another for a lifetime. He softly wipes the blood from your lip and couldn’t help but think of what it would be like to kiss them. He thought you were the most beautiful and intriguing woman he had ever seen.
“What happened?” He breaks the tense silence.
“Wildlings raided my village…” you said quietly, turning away and looking down into the water. “I barely escaped. I was running from them then suddenly I was running from a wolf chasing me… I don’t know how I’m still alive right now.”
“Did anyone else get away?” He asked.
You met his eyes. “Some. I saw people escaping the other direction.”
He nods, a sad expression on his face. “And your family?”
You shook your head looking back down.
“They could have escaped…” he says reassuringly.
“No.” You said flatly. “I saw the savages kill them.”
“I’m sorry.” He said lightly brushing your shoulder. Your breath catches at the touch.
Jon grabs you fresh robes and sets them on the stool before turning to help you up. You take both his hands as he lifts you from the water. The candle light illuminating your naked frame. He can’t help but glance at your wet body before meeting your eyes again, making you blush. He awkwardly looks to the side with red cheeks as you step out of the tub holding onto his hands. He passes you the robes to put on and steals one last glance of you from the corner of his eye.
“I’ll be in the room right next door if you need anything.” He says shyly.
“Thank you, Jon.” You stand near the bed as he heads towards the door.
“Goodnight (y/n).”
“Goodnight.” You say as he leaves the room and you crawl into bed.
**********
You wake in the middle of the night shivering. The fire was dull and the warm room turned cold. The wind whistled loudly from a storm raging outside. After trying hard to fall back asleep you give up and get up from bed, wrapping one of the furs around you.
You sneak out the door and into Jon’s room. Your heart stops and you gasp as your eyes connect with the red eyed white wolf laying next to Jon’s bed. You stumble back and bump into a table causing a clatter that wakes Jon.
“(y/n)?” Jon says hazily as he wakes up. He notices your terrified expression toward the wolf.
He gets out of bed revealing his exposed upper half which manages to distract your thoughts for a moment before you turn back to the wolf who was still laying down leisurely.
“I promise he won’t harm you. He’s not wild, I’ve had him since he was a pup.” He walks towards you and turns to the wolf. “Ghost, come.”
The wolf stands and slowly walks over causing you to stumble backwards again.
“Shh it’s ok, I promise. Here…” he says taking your hand.
You timidly move your hand with his towards the wolf. You held your breath as he sniffed your hand then gave you a small lick. Jon lets go of your hand as you continue to pet Ghost, all the fear easing away.
“He likes you.” Jon smiles.
You smile and stand as Jon opens the door for Ghost to leave. “Wait outside boy.”
He turns back to you, rubbing his bare arms as he starts to adjust from being out of his warm bed.
“Is something wrong?” He asks, slightly shivering.
“No, I just can’t sleep.” You say as you begin to shiver again too.
“The nights can get very cold here.” He says, noticing your obvious shivering. “We can share the bed… if you want.”
You looked at him for a moment and didn’t respond before walking past him toward the bed and slowly crawling under the furs. Your eyes met his and he followed as he also climbed under. The shivering did not stop and eventually your teeth began to chatter.
“Come here,” Jon said pulling you closer.
You let him pull you into his arms until he was cuddling you close. Your heart raced and you swear you could feel his racing against your back.
“I’m not hurting you am I?” He suddenly asks, remembering your injuries.
“Not at all.” You whisper back.
The room is still cold but the warmth of him behind you soothes some of the shivering. You shuffle closer into him but then freeze as you felt something hard pressed against you. You knew he noticed your reaction as you felt him also tense.
Your breath quickened and you didn’t know what to do. After a moment, you took a deep breath and relaxed against him. You feel him relax his arms before hugging you tighter. Although you managed to relax your body you were still filled with nerves. Pushing your fear away you boldly press yourself against him again, this time clearly intentional. Jon groans in your ear and pushes his member harder into your backside.
“Jon…” you breathe as he slowly begins kissing your neck while you grind against him.
You turn around to face him and your eyes meet full of bewilderment and lust. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you hard. His tongue demands entrance to your mouth and you happily oblige. He kisses you like it’s the last kiss he’ll ever have.
You pull him closer against you before your hand moves from his waist trailing down his torso. He gasps into the kiss as you lightly grab his hard member over his trousers. You reach for the strings of his pants but he quickly grabs your hand to stop you.
“I can’t…” Jon says with a pained look on his face, clearly not wanting to stop.
“Why not?” You whisper.
“I- I swore a vow. As a man of the Nights Watch.”
“Oh… They make you swear not to lay with a woman?”
“Something like that… we swear to never marry or father children.”
“So… you do not actually swear off of… sex.”
“Well I- Yeah… I guess not…” Jon furrows his brows at the realization.
Without another word he throws caution to the wind and reaches between you to pull the ties of your robe before pushing it off your shoulders. He grabs your breast and leans forward to put the other in his mouth making you let out a quiet moan. His lips make their way up your collarbone to your neck until they land back on your lips. His hand begins to explore your body until his fingers lightly brush against your most sensitive area causing you to gasp and break the kiss.
“Jon…” You sigh, “I have never…”
“Me neither…” he whispers back.
You smile and lean over to capture his lips again. This time he lets you pull the strings of his pants before he pulls them fully off. You barely get a glimpse of his lower half before he’s on top of you littering kisses all along your jaw and neck.
“Are you sure?” He whispers as you feel him rubbing his length against you.
The feeling makes your brain fuzzy and you quickly nod staring deep into his eyes.
“It is going to hurt… at first.” He says.
You nod again and he pushes into you making your jaw drop and your face scrunch in pain as you grab hard onto his biceps. He stops but you pull him closer signaling to keep going and you hear a low groan escape him as he pushes through. Once he’s fully inside you he stills. You pant through the pain as you adjust to him. He waits not just for your sake, but with the way you squeezed so tightly around him he was already struggling to not lose control and finish before this has even begun.
After another moment he begins to move slowly as your foreheads are pressed together. You breathe through the pain as it starts to fade. Your pained expression soon turns into pleasure and you’re suddenly desperate for more of him.
“Jon please… faster.” You whisper to him.
Without another word he starts thrusting faster into you until your moans begin to fill the room. He kisses you hard in a failed attempt to keep you quiet.
“Shh.” He smirks down at you, slowing his pace. “You are going to wake everyone up.”
“Sorry…” you whisper and giggle.
His speed picks up again and you bite your lip to hold try and hold back your loud moans. Your hands tangle into his curls and tug hard. He groans in your ear and gently bites your neck in response then kisses the tender spot. It becomes harder and harder to keep quiet as he slams into you harder and harder. You bite down on your lip so hard you thought it might bleed again. You gasp his name as the pressure in your belly builds. Every cell in your body ignites and you begin to see stars. Suddenly everything snaps and he quickly covers your mouth as you scream out. His thrusts become more sloppy as he quickly reaches his own peak and pulls out. He can’t stop himself from grunting loudly as he spills himself onto your stomach. In that moment his mind was so blurred by the feeling of you he completely forgot where he was. You nearly faint at the gorgeous sight of him above you as he came.
He crashes down beside you and reaches for a cloth before cleaning you up.
“You are going to wake everyone up...” You tease.
He chuckles, “I would be very surprised if we did not.”
“Well… at least I am no longer cold.” You give a shy smirk.
He smiles and kisses your temple before pulling you in close so you’re laying on his chest. You would face your problems in the morning. Right now you just savor the feeling of your saviours strong arms wrapped around you and his heart beating against your ear as you both drift off to sleep.
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rise-my-angel · 6 months ago
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Would you say Jon would be more of a soft!dom? Also do you think Jon would be dominant in bed? Been reading so many people say that Jon would actually be submissive in bed and its been throwing me completely off :/
Listen I am a FIRM believer in Dominant Jon. I am on here with my smut to dismantle the sub Jon headcanons for good.
He is an intense man with very raw emotions and painting him as some good boy sub in bed is crazy to me. Now he would be a soft!dom, but that does not at all indicate he has any sub tendancies.
A soft dom is simply a dominant who is more gentle with their words, more romantic and less harsh. A soft dom is a little less kinky but they are passionate and intimate. Which is Jon. I think if you watch who Jon really is as his own individual you'd realize he is a dom, he always has something clawing at his chest to take control and when he does he is a very natural firm leader.
Jons sub headcanons come from one place, and it is the cave with Ygritte scene. Now I have made my opinons on that scene clear, that Jon is a victim of rape at Ygritte's hands and thus I put NONE of my theories of his sexual inclinations towards dom/sub dynamics as being based off of that. Most people who argue for sub Jon tend to also be people who don't think Ygritte is a rapist and thus base their headcanons on that scene. Which I think is gross and insulting to Jon, since it's pretty blatantly rape once you get passed the really dishonest way the show tried to frame it.
So, if you think Jon is a dom, my smut is the place for you. I have never seen a submissive Jon smut that doesnt suddenly turn him massively out of character just to suit that narrative.
Jon is a man who within a few short months of being in the Nights Watch, tried to STAB A COMMANDING OFFICER TO DEATH when said man insulted Jons fathers honor. That is not the actions of someone who is a sub in bed. That is a man who at his core is a protector, and that includes the bedroom.
Jon isn't mean in bed, and he isn't a hard dom, but being a soft dom is absolutely nowhere close to being a sub. Jon has been looked down on and walked all over his whole life and we know he hates that.
So I do not grasp why anyone thinks he'd also want to be treated that way in the bedroom. Why would he want a woman in bed to treat him the way he hates being treated in real life? Jon craves to be in control in his life, he would never want to be ordered around and told what to do in the most intimate of scenarios.
Sub Jon headcanoners are wrong. Sorry, but they do not know Jon Snow. They are wrong. Jon is a dom. A soft dom, but 100% a dom.
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witchthewriter · 2 years ago
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!    
a/n: this is the female character edition, I will do a part 2 for the male characters. Also... how I see the characters Hogwarts House, MBTI, Zodiac signs and moral alignments can totally be argued. 
Warnings: spoilers I guess? I mean it’s been out for ages but if you’re only just watching the show then ... yeah spoilers
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐲
🌿ENFJ 🍁Slytherin 📜Chaotic Good >> Chaotic Neutral  🔮Aries Sun, Cancer Moon, Leo Rising  
・She needs someone who is accepting of her leadership. Throughout history, many royal relationships fail because one doesn’t like the other being in the lead. So Dany needs someone who is okay with her being in charge
・Dany needs someone who is intuitive, sensitive but not afraid of voicing their opinion 
・Someone who goes out of their way to make her feel seen - not just in a leadership sense, but her history, where she came from, her ancestors, her family. 
・She needs someone who understands the political value of marriage and how to work the game of thrones. 
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:
Gemini, Leo, and Sagittarius. These signs are full of life, ready to grasp the bull by the horns. Leo and Sagittarius work with Aries because they’re fellow fire signs - they have the same emotional and mental appetite. Gemini works because they’re -ready -, they’re witty and intelligent. 
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:
INFP & ISFP, are great matches as they’re intuitively inclined, and who can keep a good/interesting conversation. Personal growth is important to ENFJs and these signs will encourage as well as grow along with them. 
𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:
Emotionally Unstable (You) x Also Emotionally Unstable But Tries To Hide It (Dany)
Sun x Moon
Both Wary of Love & Don’t Think This Can Be Real
𝐘𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞
🌿ESFP 🍁Gryffindor 📜Chaotic Neutral 🔮Sagittarius Sun, Aquarius Moon, Virgo Rising  
・Ygritte is a wild woman, she’s independent and thrill-seeking. But that doesn’t necessarily mean she needs someone who is the exact same.
・Ygritte would love being with someone who shows her new places, cultures and ways of living. 
・She’s very open-minded and wouldn’t work with someone who is traditional
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:
The fiery Aries, the vivacious Leo and the adventurous Gemini. Those that can keep up with the Sagittarius’ wildness, their need for adventure and new experiences. These signs aren’t conventional, they’re broad-minded - open to new things.
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:
INTJ, INFJ, ISTJ, and ISFJ  types who are more introverted, who can give ESFPs new perspectives and opinions on things. The ideal relationship for an ESFP is one that fulfills their need for attention while giving them the freedom to follow their own goals. 
𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:
Isn't Scared of Anything (Ygritte) x Worries About Everything (You)
Thinks They're In Charge (Ygritte) x Is Actually In Charge (You)
Teases Them (Ygritte) x About To End Them (You)
𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐚
🌿ESFJ 🍁Gryffindor 📜Neutral Good 🔮Libra Sun, Virgo Moon, Taurus Rising
・Sansa has had a traumatic upbringing - 
・And she doesn’t trust easily, nor does she actively pursue love
・So she needs someone who will move slowly; act on her terms, not push her, not make her feel closed in
・I think love would spark with someone who makes her feel safe, but is also very sharp and quick with their come backs. She would love someone with great banter. 
・She would also do well with someone who is lighthearted and isn’t scared of making a fool of themselves
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:
Aquarius, Sagittarius, Gemini and Taurus. The air signs work because Libra is a fellow air sign - they’ve got the similar witty repartee. Sagittarius makes Libra feel safe while still encouraging them and lighting their adventurous side. Taurus works with Libra well because they’re both ruled by Venus - the planet of love; which makes both of them lovers of luxury, art and romance.
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:
ESFJ's natural partner is the ISFP, or the INFP. ESFJs need someone who is open with their feelings and who is honest with their desires. They have similar decision making abilities. 
𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:
Dumbass (You) x Oh God I Guess That’s My Dumbass (Sansa)
Opposites Attract 
Character That Doesn't Believe The Other Could Ever Love Them Back But They Do
𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐢
🌿ISFJ 🍁Ravenclaw 📜Lawful Good turned Chaotic Good turned Chaotic Neutral? 🔮Pisces Sun, Virgo Moon, Libra Rising  
・Missandei needs someone who is willing to take the time to get to know her. Who won’t rush her into a relationship or make her feel pushed beyond her limits. 
・She needs someone who will make her feel safe - as her safety wasn’t guaranteed until Dany came along 
・Missandei is also highly intelligent; she knows multiple languages, understands many cultures and is able to hold a lot of information in her mind.
・She’s quite stoic but very compassionate - until pushed to her limits. So she will do well with a partner that has a soft side; a gentle heart 
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:
Taurus, Cancer, Scorpio, Capricorn. Taurus and Pisces have the dreamy Neptune and romantic Venus energies, they’d have a long lasting relationship filled with unconditional love, immense affection, and emotional depth. Cancer and Scorpio work with Pisces as they’re all water signs; sensitive, empathic, understanding, and committed. Capricorn and Pisces work because Saturn-ruled Capricorn is very much emotionally guarded and likes to see all the facts. It levels out the Pisces, whose dreamy nature can cloud their judgement. 
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:
ISFJs thrive in relationships where they can freely provide care and empathetic understanding while receiving appreciation. They’re most compatible with ESFP & ESTP. ESTPs work with ISFJs as they allow them their freedom, while also giving clear and honest communication - which ISFJs need. ISFJs are drawn to the ESFPs passionate, high-energy personality. 
𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:
Emotional Support Animal In Human Form
Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like (You) x Keeps The Rocks (Missandei)
Closed Off (Missandei) x The Person They Warm Up To (You)
𝐀𝐫𝐲𝐚
🌿ISTP 🍁Gryffindor 📜Chaotic Neutral 🔮Gemini Sun, Aries Moon, Sagittarius Rising  
・Arya cannot be limitied, she can’t be held down or given too much responsibility. If so, than she shuts down and feels trapped. 
・She needs a partner who is just as adventurous, and exploratory as she is. 
・Arya despises tradition and all her life she hated being told what to do and who to be. 
・She needs a partner who who is just as open-minded and forward thinking, someone who will amplify her visions rather than shut them down
・Arya needs someone who doesn’t want to settle down, they want to keep exploring, keep moving, keep travelling
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:
Aries, Leo, Libra, and Aquarius. Aries & Gemini work because they’re both thrill-seeking, high-energy, and outgoing. Leo & Gemini work because they’re both full of boundless energy and love to be in a crowd. Libra & Gemini work because have similar intellectual temperaments and interests, which means they'll understand one another on a fundamental level. Gemini & Aquarius work because they’re both flirtatious, playful, and spirited, these two bond over a shared sense of humor and communication.
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:
ESTJ & ENTJ, as they understand ISTPs importance in maximizing life in the moment, prioritizing rationality, and exploring the world.ISTPs will use their problem-solving skills to assist their partners through difficult moments.
𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:
I Don’t Know What I’m Doing But At Least I’m Alive, Right? (Arya) x You’re Doing Great, Sweetie (You)
Death (Arya) x the Maiden/Bachelor (You) 
Opposites Attract
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲
🌿ENFJ 🍁Slytherin 📜Neutral Good 🔮Cancer Sun, Gemini Moon, Aquarius Rising  
・Margaery knows the game, and she’s ready to parttake. 
・Nothing seems too dangerous or overwhelming for her - she can handle a lot more than people give her credit for. She figured out Cersei, was able to maneuver the High Sparrow and became Queen ... twice
・Her potential was endless, but we never saw her with someone in a truly romantic light.
・I think she needs someone who is witty, sharp and not easily overwhelmed 
・Margaery takes the role of being Queen seriously though, and wants to help the people rather than treat them how Cersei has been
・Margaery has new ideas and ways of doing things - 
・She’d need a partner who supports that, who wants to make good changes in the world.
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:
Pisces, Taurus and Scorpio. Both Cancers and Taurus’ highly prize loyalty, so they'll be committed to each other for the long haul. Pisces work because they are both water signs, both Cancer and Pisces are highly in-tune with their feelings, as well as the feelings of others. Both Cancers and Scorpios are loyal, honest, and tend to feel their emotions very strongly.
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:
INFP, ISFP and INFJ. INFP is the ENFJ’s mirror match, they’d make a wonderful, stable match long-term, with both providing and receiving emotional validation to each other. ISFP’s equally giving, self-sacrificing quality, and ENFJ’s natural, abundant kindness. INFJs are compatible because they have similar values, however very different perspectives. They’d have good conversations/debates without it becoming exhausting.
𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:
You Fell First, But They Fell Harder
Initially Distant, but Mutual Yearning 
Confident & Flirty (Margaery) x Has Never Been Flirted With Before, Thinks They're Just Being Nice (You)
𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞
🌿ISTJ 🍁Hufflepuff 📜Lawful Good 🔮Virgo Sun, Capricorn Moon, Pisces Rising  
・Brienne seems to be a stoic person who doesn’t need anyone. But on the inside she craves a person, place or group to belong to. Somewhere to fit in. 
・She needs someone who is reliable, who will be by her side no matter how hard life gets. Stability means a lot to Brienne. 
・Brienne craves steadiness and thrives on a well-planned existence
・Her partner needs to understands that she may need some alone time though, as she is an introverted person
・ She may not show it openly, but she will value her partner immensely.
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:
Scorpio, Capricorn, Taurus and Cancer. Scorpio and Virgo work because Scorpio is highly perceptive and intelligent, and they both appreciate a well-planned life. Capricorn and Virgo work because they’re equal parts pragmatic and passionate, Cap and Virgo work side-by-side to care for loved ones and create a welcoming home. Taurus and Virgo work because they both like things to look and feel "just right," making a good team for creating a sophisticated, traditional home. Cancer and Virgo work because Cancer is also nurturing by nature, and Virgos are attracted to fellow givers.
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:
ISTJ's natural partner is the ESFP, ESTP, ESFJ. ISTJs need loyalty, dedication, a person who is a good listener, as well as being pragmatic. They focus on logic, and with Brienne being a Virgo, this is especially true. Her earth sign, mixed with her mbti means she is down to earth and needs someone with a clear mindset, rather than someone who is up in the clouds. 
𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:
Tol x Smol
They probably hate me (You) x Deeply, passionately in love … is terrible at showing it (Brienne)
Home Is Wherever You Are
𝐂𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐢
🌿ENTJ 🍁Slytherin 📜Neutral Evil 🔮Leo Sun, Scorpio Moon, Gemini Rising  
・Cersei needs someone who will stand by her side no matter what. Who is painstakingly loyal - but also someone who can’t be tricked or have the wool pulled over their eyes. They need to be one step ahead of everyone, and times, even ahead of Cersei
・Cersei can be very overpowering and dominant. I think she wants someone to step up and make the hard decisions, someone to match her energy, to go above her energy. 
・Her romantic partner needs to be firm in their decisions and who isn’t easily swayed. But also who isn’t too traditional or close-minded. 
・She wants someone who is assertive, intelligent and can handle her quips. Maybe someone with a hardened exterior
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:
The fellow fire signs Aries, Gemini, Sagittarius and Libra.. The air signs; Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, would also keep Cersei on her toes - the fast-paced and witty energy would make her life feel exciting. Aries and Leo/ Leo and Sagittarius work because both fire signs, and their combination of intense passion and high-achievement is a recipe for success. 
𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:
INTP, or ISTP as they have ambitious goals and like to innovate.ENTJs are attracted to drive and passion. They want someone who has ambition, someone who wants to go above the rest.
𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:
Snarky Power Couple That Can, And Probably Will, Destroy You
You're The Only One Who Understands Me
I was hired to kill you, but now I want to protect you.
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chic-beyond-the-wall · 1 year ago
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What The Wildling Princess Val would wear
October 4th
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heartshapedmisery · 1 year ago
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𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jon snow
summary ― .゚‪‪ ˖ in which jon wanders too far north of the wall into free folk territory and is put under your supervision, mance rayder's daughter, after your voluntary offer of him staying in your tent. you never thought you would be willing to bunk with a crow, but of course, there's a first for everything.
warnings ― .゚‪‪ ˖  MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), inexperienced!jon, reader taking jon's virginity, little bit of subby!jon, riding, handjob, mentions of blood ( reader bites jon's lip on accident whoops ), oral ( f! recieving ), jon having a praise k!nk, jon having literally no self-control, reader calling jon a crow about a thousand times lmao, minimal use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!
word count ― .゚‪‪ ˖ 3k +
pairing ― .゚‪‪ ˖ jon snow x fem!rayder!reader.
author’s note ― .゚‪‪ ˖  jon snow is so babygirl
honestly loved writing this, lmk what you think! also, should i make a part two with ygritte involved ?? wink wink
publishing date ― .゚‪‪ ˖  june 26th, 2023 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY
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When you first saw the darkness of his furs sticking out so flamboyantly against the white of the northern snow, you knew Ygritte had struck gold on her hunt with the others.
You watched with a cautious but intrigued look on your face as she pulled him along behind her by a long rope tied around his hands, cradling a longsword in the crook of her arm with a wide smile on her face. But, the look on the crow's face seemed to be the total opposite.
Everything about him was dark, from his ratted furs to his hair that looked like it hadn't been given a good wash in ages, to even the disgruntled frown that didn't seem to leave his face until Ygritte finally untied him from his restraints. He was a crow, through and through.
You had seen plenty men of the Night's Watch before―even killed a few―but the one who stood before you as you made your way into your father's council tent was different. His eyes were a deep, darling brown, holding a youth that couldn't have been any older than your own. Most of the crows you had captured were all old and gray, not nearly as attractive and brooding as this one.
You didn't know there was such a thing.
"Where'd you find this one?" you whispered to Ygritte, your voice low enough for only her ears, your eyes raking over his figure that seemed disproportioned from the thick of the furs and leathers he wore.
"About a few miles north of the wall," she told you, watching him just as closely as you were. "He was just too pretty to pass up." The two of you shared a laugh as she handed you the young crow's sword, heavy and dull in its scabbard.
The Lord of Bones pushed him roughly towards the man sitting in the center of the tent, biting into a hunk of meat as if it were his last meal.
"I smell a crow," Tormund muffled with his mouth full, turning his head barely enough to get a good look at the young man. His scowl hadn't changed, if anything worsened since being shoved into the large tent.
His name had been Jon Snow, which he revealed to Tormund just before kneeling before him and muttering your grace. The entire tent seemed to bustle with laughter at the attempt of respect, you and Ygritte sending each other a knowing look as the crow's face reddened with embarrassment. Tormund may have looked and fought like one, but he was no king.
"Stand boy," a voice hidden in the back of the tent sounded, silencing everyone in the room within a matter of seconds. Your father, Mance Rayder, unveiled himself from the shadowy corner room behind Tormund, looking down upon Jon Snow as he stood.
Jon was quick to rise to his feet, looking up at him as the man stood taller than even Tormund. "We don't kneel for anyone beyond the wall."
Slowly, you moved towards your father from Ygritte's side, resting your hands on the hilt of the crow's sword as you allowed it to stand in front of you. Your father always valued your opinion when coming to decisions over the free folk, and this matter was no different.
Your eyes had hardened by now, catching Jon's gaze with a look that could only be interpreted as defensive. No matter how pretty you thought he was, he was still a man of the Night's watch. Your enemy infiltrating your land.
You watched him carefully as he went on to explain why he had left the Night's Watch, telling your father about the things he had seen in Craster's Keep.
"And why would that make you want to abandon your brothers?" Mance asked, his voice low and gravelly. His words seemed to intimidate the young man, his eyes flitting away from your father's before moving back to them hesitantly.
"Answer the question," you growled, leaning in towards him with a malice that couldn't help but send a chill down his spine. His eyes shot to yours, wondering why you were making such commands in the presence of Mance Rayder.
He explained how the Night's Watch did nothing to prevent Craster from giving up his newborn son to the white walkers, creatures that had been known to be gone for centuries.
"I want to fight for the side that fights for the living," he told your father, sparing you only a quick look as you stepped back to Mance's side. "Did I come to the right place?"
Mance mulled over the boy's words before looking down at you, the look on his face clear that he wanted your opinion. "What do you say, girl? Shall the baby crow stay?"
As you held his sword close to your chest, you stepped closer to Jon, your face inches from his as you gave him a good look over. He seemed nervous, his breathy shaky as it blew past his lips.
"I say he can," you paused, circling around him before meeting his gaze once more with a sly smrik on your lips. "But he stays with me."
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He didn't speak much to you at first―or anyone really―only saying a few words when needed to and biting his tongue when you made some snide remark or called him a crow.
Since you had taken the responsibility of monitoring him, you practically stuck to Jon like glue until nightfall―as did many other girls in your camp, including Ygritte. She was an exception, but you had to keep running the rest of them off since their eagerness to catch a glimpse of him drove them to fights and quarrels in the snow.
Not to degrade any of the people in your camp, but men that looked like Jon Snow were not a common sight in free folk territory.
After showing him around the camp and getting him a new set of furs made of polar bear skin and boiled leather, you eventually gave him Longclaw back―which was what he called that heavy sword of his. He was grateful, but his disgruntled frown hardly left his face.
"Lose the frown, Jon Snow," you had told him as he joined you and Ygritte for dinner around the fire you had built near your tent. "You're not in the South anymore. There's no need to look so miserable."
When nightfall finally took the sky, you escorted Jon to your tent with a mischievous smirk on your face, earning looks from other wilding girls―most of them being of annoyance or jealousy. Their glares didn't go unnoticed by Jon, a look of confusion and concern evident on his face.
"Are they always like this?" he asked sheepishly, looking over his shoulder as the two of you stood still in front of the flaps of your tent.
You couldn't help but laugh, the scowls on their faces feral and sour as you led him into your tent.
"You're the first pretty crow they've seen in ages, Jon Snow," you told him with a grin. "They'll claw each other's eyes out to lay naked with you."
Your words seemed to surprise him, but he didn't say anything as a reddish tint rose in his cheeks. He had never been with a girl, he was too young before he joined The Watch, and his vows forbade him from lying with a woman. He had never gotten the chance, so the idea couldn't help but intrigue him.
"Your furs are over there," you pointed to the makeshift bed across from yours, "Though I know you'll be far much warmer over here with me."
He disregarded your comment, silent as he made his way over to his side of the tent and tried not to think too hard about laying with you.
It wasn't a large tent, your furs only a mere few feet from his. You still laid rather close despite being on separate sides.
Beginning to undo your outer layers and shedding them off, you were left in only a thin undershirt and pants that barely left anything to the imagination as you sat across from him.
Jon's eyes widened.
You could feel his eyes on you, his cheeks flushed at the sight of your hardened nipples poking through the fabric as you reached over to light a few candles between the two of you to brighten up the tent. He felt a sting of guilt run through his chest; he didn't want to betray his vows, or even think about betraying them, but you were making it very difficult for him to abstain on his side of the tent.
"What, have you never seen a woman's body before, crow?" you said playfully as you undid your hair from the braid it had been pulled back in all day, tousling it with your tired fingers to get ready for bed.
Jon only widened his eyes, gulping rather harshly as his lips parted, catching your eyes that seemed to be filled with nothing but seduction.
"What do you care?" he looked away, the tension too much for him to bare. His cheeks were flaming red at this point, embarrassment flaring in his chest. He could feel his hard-on begin to grow under his thick trousers, hoping to the Old Gods you couldn't see.
"Oh, right," you said sarcastically. "The Night's Watch will hack your hand off if you even think about touching a woman, is that right? Miserable bastards."
Jon tried to protest, his words caught dead in his mouth as you cut him off abruptly.
"Have you ever laid with a woman, Jon Snow?" you asked lowly, sitting up from your spot on your warm furs before slowly starting to crawl over to him, sultry laced thickly in your voice.
He shook his head, his eyes wide and blown out with lust. You were dangerously close to him, sitting down in front of him with your legs tucked neatly beneath you as you leaned in towards him.
"Do you want to?" you said slyly, your lips inches from his.
Your hand slowly reached out for his, grasping it gently before bringing it to your breast and allowing him to cup it. A shaky sigh blew past his plump lips, his gaze flitting down to your chest as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your sensitive nipple gently.
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even think. Before he could remember the vow that he had made not long ago. Your sweet scent of firewood and pine was like truth serum to his senses. "More than anything."
His gentle, pleading words were enough for you to bring your lips to his, enveloping in the taste of him as you moved swiftly onto his lap, lips moving in sync hungrily as if he would be your last.
His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard chest. As you lowered your hips down onto his lap, you could feel him hard against your core, making you gasp in surprise.
You laughed gently under your breath in excitement as his eyes fluttered shut, not being able to help yourself as you began to slowly grind against him, earning a low and shaky whimper from his throat.
It was like music to your ears; his soft whimpers and pants. When you had been with other wildling men, they grunted and groaned as they worked their way in and out of you, almost animalistic. Jon was different.
"Do you like it when I do this?" You cooed in his ear. His moans were soft and desperate as he yearned for more of your touch, his hands gentle and needy as they grasped at your hips and worked you across his lap slowly.
He had no idea how much of an effect it had on you. How his exasperated pants made something foreign blossom in your chest and spread down to your lower half.
"Please," he begged as he pulled away from your lips, looking up at you with an adoration you had never seen from any free folk. You had him wrapped around your finger, drunk on your warm touch. Nothing could've riled you up more.
"You can have me however you want," you promised him, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. Slowly, you pulled your undershirt off over your head before wriggling out of your thin pants, leaving your body bare and on display for him. "You're mine now, Jon Snow."
Your hand traveled down slowly between your bodies, running over the front of his trousers and cupping his hard-on, dancing your fingers across it tauntingly. "But first, let me help you with this."
Your fingers quickly worked at the ties at his trousers, pulling it open and helping him get rid of them before assisting him in removing his heavy furs and leathers and throwing them to the side, leaving him bare and warm beneath you, his pale, toned skin burning against your own.
Carefully, you sat back down on his lap, sitting at the edge of his knees so you could get a good look at him splayed out before you. Excitement buzzed in your chest at the sight of his reddened tip, leaking with precum practically begging to be touched.
With a soft look, your hand grasped his hardened cock gently, making him shudder at the sudden contact.
The feeling was foreign to him; Sure, he had used his own hand once or twice to relieve himself when he was feeling desperate, but his calloused and thick hands didn't compare to your small, soft, and experienced ones as you began to pump him gently.
"O-Oh," he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as you rubbed him carefully, allowing your forehead to press gently to his. You could feel his soft, warm pants fanning against your face, gentle moans falling from his lips every so often.
"You're so good for me," you whispered to him, your thumb running over the slit at the head of his cock, earning a shaky gasp from him. Your lips peppered kisses against his, before moving slowly to his cheeks and working your way down his jaw tauntingly.
The feeling of your lips leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along the skin of his neck and collarbone made him ecstatic. He didn't know what he had done to earn such a heavenly gift from the gods, but he knew he never wanted this to end. He never wanted to be without your touch.
"F-Fuck," he whined, entranced by the look of desire in your eyes as you rubbed him.
His toned stomach contracted gently, his abs tensing as he inched closer and closer to his release. His moans became more guttural, incoherent mumbles to the sound of your name filling your ears.
"I'm g-gonna-" he warned, his eyes fluttering shut. But, before he could finish his sentence, hot, white spurts of his release shot onto his stomach, painting him sinfully as a shaky groan rumbled in his chest in response. It lit something inside you, the way he trembled beneath your touch and moaned your name as if it were a prayer. You could drown in it.
Carefully, you reached for the undershirt you had thrown off and wiped his stomach clean, not caring you had dirtied it and would have to wash it by hand on the morrow.
A calm silence fell between you, allowing his forehead to fall to the crook of your neck as his hands snaked around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his. Your warmth was something he wanted to live in forever. He never wanted to leave this tent.
"You're so-" he mumbled against your skin, his breath faltering as he tried to find the right words. "You're so good at that."
You couldn't help but blush. The way he worshipped you made you ecstatic, your hands raking through his dark curls as you tilted his head up to look at you.
"Can I kiss you?" he rasped. His eyes were full of want, his eyebrows pulling together slightly as he pawed at the flesh of your thigh. Carefully, you moved to bring your lips to his with a wide grin but he stopped you, pulling his head to the side tauntingly.
He shook his head gently. "Not there."
You didn't understand what he meant. Kiss you where?
Cautiously, he pulled you off of his lap and laid you down on the soft furs, his body hovering over yours as he slotted himself in between your legs.
He began to make his way down your body with gentle kisses, nipping at your supple skin as he trailed from the crook of your neck to all the way down between your plush thighs, leaving little love bites in the wake of his mouth as he inched dangerously close to where you needed him most.
"Getting brave, aren't we?" you taunt, his hands moving to tuck your legs onto his shoulders before he gripped your hips with both of his hands firmly, holding you in place as you could feel his warm breath fanning against your glistening core.
He ignored your snide remark, wasting no time before licking a clean stripe against your cunt and beginning to work away at you, his eyes fluttering shut at the sound of your euphoric moans.
Your face contorted with pleasure as you felt his lips wrap around your clit, gently sucking at it, before cautiously bringing his middle and ring fingers to your core and allowing them to curl in an upward motion blissfully.
You had never felt anything like this before. The way his tongue moved against your folds made you ecstatic, wondering what they put in the southern water to make him so good at what he was doing.
"J-Jon," you gasped, your fingers combing through his dark locks and giving them a good tug, earning a moan from him as it vibrated against your core and only pushed you closer to your high. Your thighs clenched around his head in an attempt to pull him closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit just enough to make you jolt with a shaky gasp.
He enticed moans out of you like never before, licking and sucking at your core in ways you didn't even know were possible. He seemed so skilled for claiming to have never touched a woman before. Could he have been lying to you?
Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as you saw his hips begin to grind slowly against the furs as he lapped away at your core, his cock hard once more from the sweet taste of you. Moans grumbled in his chest as he squeezed your thighs tighter, his fingers sure to leave bruises on your supple skin.
The abrupt feeling of his fingers pulling out of your core made you whine. But his tongue entering you was enough to make you see stars, your back arching up off the soft furs as you could feel the tight coil in your stomach begin to snap.
Your wanton moans filled his ears, loud enough to be heard by the rest of the camp, but you didn't care. Your only concern was him and your climax—which wasn't far off.
"Gods!" your heel dug into the middle of his muscular back as you gripped the furs at your side, your orgasm washing over you unlike ever before. Your thighs trembled gently around Jon's head, his mouth pulling away from your core, his chin glistening with your release as he watched you with a lazy smile while you writhed in pleasure before him.
He pulled himself up so he was hovering over you once more, his face a mere few inches from yours as your chest heaved up and down, coming down from your high. Your eyelids felt heavy as he gripped your hip, and the sheer look of lust in his eyes made your lips crash against his hungrily.
You could taste your release on his lips as his tongue slipped into your mouth, not even thinking before wrapping your legs around his waist and flipping him over on the furs, now sitting on his lap as he laid breathlessly beneath you.
You smiled at the way he looked up at you with want, his hands playing with the flesh of your ass impatiently. His hardened cock beneath your wet core made it hard for you to concentrate, but you still managed to roll your hips against his tauntingly.
"Just lay there, sweet. Let me give you what you want," you rasped, your hands splayed flat on his chest as your teasing became nearly unbearable for him.
"Please," he pleaded. "I need to feel you."
Slowly, you brought your hand to grasp him gently, giving him a few pumps before guiding him towards your entrance as you hovered over him, your eyes not leaving his as you sank down onto him.
Relieved moans left your mouths in unison, your cunt stretching around him sweeter than he could imagine. Your warmth made his heart flutter, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he waited for you to move.
Soft whimpers filled the space between you as your hips slowly began to roll across his lap, your nails raking down the front of his toned chest as you fell into a steady pace. His mind was fogged with the sheer sight of you on top of him, finding the gentle bounce of your breasts with every movement entrancing.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathed, his head falling back as he screwed his eyes shut, which couldn't help but send a wave of pleasure straight to your core. You couldn't help yourself when your fingers trailed to your clit and began to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth, clenching around his length with each roll of your hips.
"Gods," he cursed, sitting up from his spot on the soft furs as you still guided your hips back and forth on his cock.
Your arm automatically slung around his broad shoulders as his own pulled you closer to him by your waist while he propped himself up with his free hand, allowing him to thrust up inside of you and reach deeper than before.
The way the tip of his cock just barely brushed your cervix enraptured you. You were finding it very hard to believe that he had never done this before.
"Right there," you panted out, gripping his bare shoulder so hard your fingernails were sure to leave tiny crescent indents in his skin. His pace quickened, slowly becoming more desperate and sloppy as your moans grew with it. You were sure the entire camp could've heard the lot of you by now.
His lips met yours in an instant, a poor attempt on Jon's part at silencing you as best he could. You allowed his tongue to roam your mouth, your fingers collecting at the nape of his neck to hold him closer to you. But to his surprise―with a sudden thrust of his hips―your teeth caught his bottom lip with a moan.
"Ahh," he hissed, the metallic taste of blood collecting at the front of his mouth. He pulled back, panting heavily as the look of lust didn't leave his eyes. Your lips were reddened and wet, and the way your tongue poked out barely to wipe them clean made a low groan rumble in his chest.
Within an instant, he smashed his lips back onto yours, pushing you back so you were laying flat on the furs now with his hips between your legs, his length still inside of you as he wasted no time to begin a steady pace pistoning in and out of you messily.
"Jon!" you moaned, his cock stretching you perfectly with each thrust. His lips attacked at the supple skin of your neck, peppering little love bites trailing down over your collarbone. You could feel him wince between moans against your skin as your nails dug into his back uncontrollably, leaving long, reddened welts along his pale skin.
Your fingers trailed slowly up to his hair, giving it a good tug as you brought his lips to yours. Your movements earned a low grumble in the back of his throat in response, his hips beginning to stutter as he could feel his climax rising.
You weren't far off either, with his sweet, incandescent moans that made the coil in your stomach tighten filling your ears. "Are you gonna come for me, baby?"
A guttural moan ripped through Jon's throat at your soft whispers, unable to form words as he nodded his head breathlessly. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, his last few thrusts hard and deep before pulling out of you—just enough to send you over the edge of your high.
You swiftly propped yourself up on your elbows, breathless from your climax as he pumped his shaft a few times before releasing himself all over your stomach and chest. His face contorted with pleasure as you watched him with amazement, a sly smirk creeping on your face as he came hard.
A gentle silence fell between the two of you as he caught his breath, moving to lay next to you on the soft furs and wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling you close to his side. His warmth burned against your cheek as you laid your head on his chest, running your fingers lazily across his skin.
"You were right," he whispered against your hair, pressing a kiss to your head as you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. You smiled against his skin, "How so?"
You lifted your head up, meeting his darling brown eyes as a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I'm far much warmer with you."
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alicesivory · 4 months ago
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Old Habits Die Hard [1/?]
Main Masterlist // Next Chapter
Pairing: Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader
Genre:  Historically accurate Aemond
WC: 2559 (not much since it’s the first chapter)
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Summary: Before Jon Snow there was Aemond Targaryen who survived The Battle of God's Eye. Aemond thought that he would return to Kings Landing showered with praise. Yet he finds himself being taken to the north being held hostage and was sent to the wall. Before Jon and Ygritte, there was Aemond and her. 
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As the sky turned grey and the air was cold, the one eyed prince sat on the corner of the carriage he was in. Wrists chained, he peeked through a hole from the carriage and saw the banners of the great house from the north. 
The Starks. 
He cursed himself for not making allegiance with them rather than flying to Storm’s End. 
Lucerys. 
Vhagar.
It happened so quickly.
Yet it felt like it was ages ago.
Yet it was only 2 and a half years ago. 
He does not know how his mother is, his brother, Helaena, and Alys. 
Do they know that he’s alive?
Presumably not. 
He was supposed to die, his body sinking down in the waters like how Lucerys died. Yet his uncle missed, rather than stabbing his healthy eye, Daemon stabbed his arm. The wound was harsh and painful even if the northern men who found him had briefly treated his wound. 
It still hurts like a bitch. 
Fisting his hand, he roughly kicked the carriage. Let me out of here. “Quiet!” A northern man shouted from outside, hitting the carriage back. Aemond grunts and slumps onto the floor with defeat. He is far from Kings Landing and Harrenhal. He was far from home. What felt like hours the carriage eventually stopped and the air was not only cold, yet it was freezing. His body started to shiver and his teeth chattering. Hugging himself in the corner of the carriage, his body could not take the cold in truth. 
He wonders what has happened over Vhagar’s body. Have they taken her away from the waters? Will they honour her like what they did to Balerion? Or will they behead her head like Meleys? 
The carriage doors eventually opened. 
“Oi, Targaryen,” a northern man mocked, tossing a thick fur to him. “Out, now.” Aemond grits his teeth as he clutches the fur even with his hands chained. With a tremble, he stood up using the fur to warm him up. “Move it,” the northern man says once again, dragging him out of the carriage roughly on purpose, making him fall out of the carriage. 
Humiliation was the first thing that popped into his mind. 
The northerns laughed at him as they surrounded his meek self on the ground. Reminding him of the pink dread, driftmark, and the brothel. Even at the edge of Westeros he is mocked and made fun of. Aemond could not do anything but to pick himself up. He felt a shove from behind, “Walk faster, puny prince.” He picks up his steps as he curses the northerners under his breath. 
They led him further away from the road, he looked back seeing the world he once knew now far behind him. The only thing he could see now was the giant fortress and castles of the north. 
Winterfell. 
When the gates opened and he was brought inside, he felt eyes on him. He does not know whether it was because he was a Targaryen held hostage or were they looking at his eye. For he has lost his eyepatch way back in God’s Eye. What use of it now that he is a prince held hostage. Keeping his head straight, he walked into the castles of Winterfell. The fur around him is still tight in his grasp, for he did not want to freeze to death in front of these northerners. Not when he is a hostage. He shall die in front of them when he shall prove them wrong. 
“Prince Aemond Targaryen,” a voice boomed when he walked into the great hall of Winterfell. He looked up, finding Cregan Stark sitting in the middle with his council surrounding him. That proud bastard. “Lord Cregan Stark,” Aemond says, keeping his voice steady and filled with pride. He is still a dragon in chains. “It seemed you survived such a duel. Every part of Westeros has heard of your duel with your uncle, and every part of Westeros has heard of your survival.” Standing up from his seat, he continued, “And now every part of Westeros knows that you are chained by the north.”
Every man snickered in the great hall. 
Aemond could only smirk and hummed, his pride was still present. 
“It seemed, Lord Stark.” 
Cregan chuckled in amusement. 
“The north does not bow down to your brother. We serve your half-sister, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. So it means you have no power over us, Prince Aemond.” Aemond’s healthy eye bore into Cregan’s as he speaks of Rhaenyra. “She is nothing but a pretender. You all are traitors in the eyes of the throne,” Aemond coldly said. “When my brother hears of this, I shall make him burn the north to the ground.” Hearing how prideful the one eyed prince was, Lord Cregan steps closer to him. Scanning Aemond from head to toe. His hair was a mess, his old clothes ripped and his wound on his arm was still present. 
“Yet do you know who is in power right now?” Lord Cregan Stark asked. 
Aemond stared at Lord Stark curiously.
“Your brother was poisoned. He died a few days ago.”
Aemond’s heart sank. 
“Your brother is no longer king for he is dead. You do not have power over us, Prince Aemond.”
Cregan steps away from him. “You call us traitors of the realm, yet the one you serve is not sitting on the iron throne. And my prince, the north keeps their promise and does not falter. We stood true to our word and bent our knee to Queen Rhaenyra. Not your brother. You were captured by the wrong people in your own civil war, my prince. For we are not traitors, it is only you who is a traitor in this room.”
The room went silent as everyone had their eye on Aemond. 
“Bend the knee to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen or you shall be sent to the wall.” 
The wall. 
That useless wall that everyone fears of. Aemond thought lowly of the northern’s consequences. Screw the blacks, screw the northerns, for he will not bend his knee to these cowards just because he is their prisoner. He shall not be seen as weak just because he does not have a dragon.
“Never.”
He used to reside in a lavish castle and was dreaded by all. He was served anything he wanted on a silver platter by servants. He is now sitting on the brink of the dungeon he was put in, dissatisfied with himself. He would often take a bath every day, but instead he is sitting on the cold Winterfell dungeon flooring. Only a thick fur to keep him warm. 
A piece of meat and bread shoved inside into his cell, not as tasty as his feast in Kings Landing but it’s better than nothing. But his mind refused to finish his plate for he does not want the northerners to even think that he needed them. Aemond Targaryen needed no one. “Oi, pretty boy,” they opened his cell after days of torturing him with this place.
“Lord Stark wants to see you.”
Standing before Cregan Stark once again, he repeated himself.
“Bend the Knee to Queen Rhaenyra or you shall be sent to the wall—,”
“—never.”
Cregan saw how Aemond underestimated the north. The wall, especially. For he saw how much pride the prince had within him.
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with, boy.”
Aemond’s chin high up, he stood tall in his place. 
“I deal with what I must face.” 
Cregan sighed, “Then may the gods be with you.”
The mystery of the land beyond the north was yet to be solved by anyone nor the great dragons of the Targaryens. But they were not aware how they were being watched as time went by. The crows were not safe from danger as they ventured beyond the wall.
“Shh!” One of them said,
“You will get us caught.” 
The freefolk. Wildlings. 
Unlucky to be secluded from the realm, the wildlings have lived for generations outside of the wall. They are fiercely independent and reject the authority of the Seven Kingdoms and the Night's Watch. They have resilience, adaptability to harsh environments, and a deep connection to the land.It was not easy but they survived and have yet lived for years yet to come. Attempts were made to get past the wall but to no avail, they were outnumbered. 
“You stepped on my foot!” 
“Could you please shut up?!”
Shoving her companions apart from each other, the spearwife walked past them to get a closer look to the wall. “Those crows could have heard you!” Smacking their heads. “Ow, that hurts!” The taller one exclaimed. “Quit whinin’, Yuri,” she says again, peeking through the tall trees. 
“How are we gon’ pass the wall with only the three of us versus a bunch of crows?”
“We’re not here to pass the wall, we’re just here to spy on them. So we can know how many men they have,” she whispered to them. “How many of them have you spotted?” Her companions thought for a moment, “Too much to count. This wall goes far more than 50 leagues, not to mention its fucking tall.” 
“Won’t ya look at that,” Yuri said pointing at the wall. “It seems they have a new member. A strikingly different crow.” She looked up at where Yuri was pointing and saw a tall silver haired man lowered down to his station. With his black attire, his silver hair shone beneath the cloudy skies of the north.
“Why is his hair like that?” She asked curiously.
“D’you think his mother fucked a snowman?” The comment made the three of them snicker. “Or do you think he’s just a really old man?”
“He doesn’t look old…he even looks younger than you, Gruf,” she chuckles. “Watch it kid,” Gruff says, jabbing her arm lightly. The wildlings kept their eyes on the night’s watch as they took their new member to their headquarters, castle black. “When shall we strike?” Yuri asked. 
“There’s too many. I don’t want our people to die by their hands,” she says in concern. “We must do it carefully. We have to atleast claim castle black before actually trying to pass through the wall. And it seems to be…impossible.”
“Why can’t we just shoot arrows at them? Gruff’s good at those,”
“And blow our cover? Honestly, do you really want to get us killed, Yuri? Not to mention, these mens are savages. They took an oath not to use their cocks!” Her words made them all chuckle. “Yet they call us savages.” A little smirk tugged her lips as she kept an eye on the new silver haired crow. If the young spearwife claimed she wasn't drawn to the attractive man from the watch, she would be lying. He doesn't have a northern man's appearance. Tall but not as skinny as people from the north, and of course, he had stunning silver hair. Not blonde, she noted. Pure silver. And when he turned around for her to see his face. 
“He only has an eye. A purple one, even,” she said her thoughts out loud. “Blimey…and he placed a blue stone on his other eye socket,” Gruff pointed out as the three of them curiously spied on him. “Remember that story of our grandfather seeing dragons with silver haired people?” She asked. “You think he’s one of those people?”
“I don’t see any dragons with him,” Yuri answered.
“But he does have those similar features. What do you think happened? Why is he on the night’s watch?” Letting her curiosity get the best out of her, she sprinted off to take a closer look of the silver haired man.
“Oi, kid!” Her companions whisper-shouted at her.
A stubborn little thing she is, she didn’t listen. Instead she hid behind the tall trees, peeking her head through as the crows pushed their new member into the base. “There’s a sept here if you want to pray, pretty boy,” she heard a northern man say with a hint of mockery in his tone. “To pray for your mummy and your well being. You wouldn’t last a night.” 
His jaw tightened and he fisted his fingers, displaying a soured facial expression that she could perceive. She was waiting for him to punch the man from the north, but he just turned to walk away.  Huh, why didn’t he do something about it? He looked pretty mad. 
Sighing with disappointment, she took a step back.
Crack.
Shit.
His head turned towards her direction and without a doubt she hid herself behind the trees. His attention was driven away from the northern and his healthy eye scanning across the tall trees around him. “What lies beyond the wall?” She heard him ask to one of the crows. His accent proved that he was not from the north, for his voice was smooth and formal like a nobleman, flows with a rich stern tone that effortlessly commands attention. He sounded elegant, not rough like any men she has encountered. 
Taking a peek once more behind the trees she hid in, she noticed how he looks far much prettier than any man.
“Beyond the wall, you say? Anything you couldn’t have imagined. Danger lies beyond and if you venture too far, you might lost your way. Before the creatures of the night could even feast you, the land itself will swallow you whole,” the crows answered. The one eyed crow could only nod and looked back up to the land beyond. It seemed he could not spot her after all. But she wished he could. 
Staring at his uncertain expression, he gave up and turned his back from the trees and went inside the night watch’s headquarters. Giving her a chance to escape and run as far as she could from them. It seemed that he is not friendly to the crows, and what kind of men who vowed to be on the night’s watch asked what lies beyond the wall? Was he one of those men who were forced to take an oath? He didn’t seem to enjoy himself being a part of the watch. 
Was he the key to her people’s victory?
“Where the fuck have you been, kid?!” Gruff said as he jogged towards them. “I have a plan,” she said as she caught her breath from her little run. “What plan?” Yuri asked. “I think we might have a chance after all,” she answered with a smile. “We have to wait until dawn. When it gets dark, wait for me beneath the trees not far from castle black, alright?”
“Woah, slow down kid. What about-,”
“—I know! I know! But you both have to trust me on this one. There would be no conflict but I swear it to you, we can win this.”
“And you promise that you’ll come back in one piece?”
“I swear it.”
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a/n: It’s still the first chapter lol and this dynamic was heavily inspired by jon and ygritte (on the show) and I’ll just let this series flow through slowly since I wanted to build the dynamic between them😔🎀 And yes I am not comfortable using [y/n] and no specific descriptions of our lovely spearwife⭐️.
Divider cr; @aqualogia
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axelsagewrites · 2 years ago
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Jon Snow x Wildling!reader; were she doesn't trust him at all and she's always going against him, bickering all the time...and it has smut maybe a more bottom!Jon who's at that point still not so experienced??? Lots of teasing on her side during the smut... :)
Jon Snow*MiLady
Pairing: Jon x F!Wilding!Reader
Platonic: reader x Ygritte, daughter!reader x Mance
Summary: Jon Snow found himself sharing a tent with a wilding girl who loved to rile him up
Warnings: swearing, smut, loss of virginity, praise kink, f receiving oral, piv sex think thats it?
Word count: 4800
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Masterlist Here
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If anyone but Ygritte had brought a crow into your camp, you would’ve been right beside your fellow free folk demanding he either be thrown out or killed. However lucky for her Ygritte she was your closest friend and the reason you were still alive. Something she reminded you of as people voted on how to handle the crow.
You found it amusing how he was so quick to bend the knee to a king he never met, especially one who wasn’t even the king. Tormund apparently looked more the king than Mance, something you knew he would brag about for weeks. The crow told Mance he wanted to be free, but you knew it was a lie and so did Mance. Your interest was peaked from the corner of the room as he began to describe Craster leaving his new-born son in the woods and what came for it.
This time when Mance asked him why he was really here Jon, you had learned his name, answer seemed to be sincere. “I want to fight for the side who fights for the living." He spoke.
Murmurs fell over the crowd as your fellow free folk debated whether he could be trusted. The better question was if he was worth the risk. You still didn’t move from your spot in the back corner, but you did look up, meeting Ygritte’s eyes. Her gaze was strong, and you could feel the threat behind it.
Mance debated Jon’s words in a few moments of silence before turning his head to face you, “And what say you (Y/N)?” Mance asked. This time the crows’ eyes fell on you.
They were soft behind the harden gaze. He had obviously seen so much already but you had seen more. You pushed yourself off the wall and walked closer to where the crow stood, his eyes not leaving you, but you now refused to meet his, instead keeping yours on Ygritte. “You brought me a crow?” you asked her.
Ygritte smirked, “I brought you Jon Snow,”
“I already have plenty of snow,” you said causing Tormund and others to snicker, “Do you talk to all the crows to decide if you should shoot them?”
Ygritte glared at you. You glanced at Jon who was now wrapped in even more confusion. Why was the king asking someone else’s opinion? Clearly, he was not a wildling. “You owe me,” Ygritte reminded you, ignoring your question.
Your eyes fell back on Jon Snow who stood up straighter under your gaze. You internally smirked at his actions. There was silence in the room as your eyes roamed the crow. Finally, you glanced at Ygritte one last time before walking back to your corner, “I say he can stay,” you said and Jon nodded at your words, attempting to speak but you cut him off, “For now,” you added.
Mance nodded at your words and turned to his lieutenant, “Get the boy a new cloak,”
The new cloak didn’t help much as no one could forget a face like Jon Snow’s. everywhere he walked in the camp the children would pelt him with snow. You laughed at the irony. Ygritte kept trying to stop them to little avail. She tried to scatter the children as they pelted him again when she spotted you laughing across the camp. Ygritte stalked over to you. “Can’t you help me get them to knock it off?”  
“Why would I do that?” you snorted at her question. You rolled your eyes as Jon rushed to catch up with his protecter. “He’s kind of like a dog,” you mused to her, but she just rolled her eyes.
“If you told them to stop, they’d have to,” she said ignoring your insult.
Jon had been in camp for only a couple of hours and clearly no one had explained anything to him, “So are you like the wildling queen?” he asked.
You grimaced at the suggestion, “Do you assume everyone is a king?”
Jon glared at your words, “That was an honest mistake,”
“Are all southerners so ready to bend the knee?” you asked with a smirk.
“I’m a northerner,” Jon spat.
You laughed as you began to walk away, Jon following behind you and Ygritte behind him, “A northerner who can barely walk in snow,”
“There’s like 9 inches of snow!” he shot back.
You couldn’t stop the laugh that shot out your lips as you turned to face him, “I’ll keep that in mind next time im cold, Snow,” you smirked.
Jon’s face flushed pinker than the cold had already nipped it, “I didn’t mean it like that! And you know it,”
“Are you always so miserable?” you asked, turning back to face where you were walking. You were walking to where some of your men were preparing hot stew, something you needed to help with the admittedly high snow.
Jon just sighed behind you and ignored your question. “So, what are you then? Queen, princess, general?” he asked.
“Why does it matter?” you asked as you got in line for stew, Ygritte cutting in front of you and Jon behind you.
“I want to know who I’m talking to,”
“Are you blind?” you snipped, growing hungrier by the minute. “Or just an idiot?”
“Are you?” Jon said, causing you to stop moving and turn to face him, “Why did Mance need your permission?” he asked.
You rolled your eyes, “He didn’t need my permission, just my opinion. Which by the way is usually right so don’t prove me wrong,”
“And why does your opinion matter to a king?” he asked as Ygritte walked away with her stew.
As you took the bowl from the man you turned to face Jon again. “His daughter,” you smirked, and you could see Jon’s face pale.
“So, you’re a princess?”
“Maybe to the south,” you said, “Here I’m his first man, his council. What you people call a hand,”
“My father was a hand,” he said as he reached for his own bowl of stew.
“I never asked,” you said as you stopped his hand, “Who said you could eat?” you asked, and Jon’s face fell.
His shock was quickly replaced by anger as he stomped to where Ygritte was sitting on a log. You laughed as you picked up his bowl before walking to join them. You held the bowl out to the crow who looked up at you with a cold stare. “I’m not that bad,” you shrugged, holding it out closer for him to take.
“How kind,” he said, rolling his eyes. You smacked the back of his head for that, “Hey!”
“Shut up,” you said as you reached into your pocket and pulled out the fabric you wrapped your spoons in. you passed Jon one without saying anything and he seemed shocked but less angry this time, “Eat,” you told him and finally he did.
After your food Jon stopped being your problem till the sun began to set. That’s when Ygritte approached you with her next problem, “Where’s the crow sleeping?”
“Fuck would I know?” you said. You were just about to go into your own tent when she had caught you. The day had been long, and Jon was far from your only problem. “Ask Mance,”
Jon stood a couple of feet behind Ygritte, “He said to ask you,”
“Ask Tormund,” you said as you rolled your eyes and went to walk into your tent, but she grabbed your arm to stop you.
“He said the same thing,” she smirked.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? How is the crow my problem now?” you asked.
Jon stomped closer to where you debated with Ygritte, “I’m right here you know,”
You held your hand up to him, motioning him to shut up as you continued talking to Ygritte, “Stick him in a spare tent,”
“No ones willing to give him one,”
You sighed knowing you wouldn’t have given him your peoples spare supplies either in their shoes. “Does he have furs?”
“Oh, aye I carried furs all the way from the wall encase I came to camp with yous,” Jon said.
You held back a laugh and kept an annoyed face on as best you could. Snarky Jon was better than formal Jon. “Can’t you keep him?”
“I share a tent with two other folk who’d skin him in his sleep,” she said, and you sighed knowing she was right, “What am I supposed to do with him?”
“Right fine fuck fine okay,” you said, running a hand through your hair, “Just fuck off and I’ll deal with it,”
“Thank you,” Ygritte yelled as she was already running away before she could change her mind.
You sighed and began to walk to go into your tent, “What about me?” Jon asked, rushing to follow.
“You have legs. Keep up,” you said as you entered your tent, holding the flap open for him to get in. “Hurry up im cold,”
“Oh, so wildings do get cold,” Jon smirked as you began to secure the tent entrance shut to block out the harsh wind.
“Do you want to sleep in the snow?” you asked as you turned to face him. He just rolled his eyes in response. You ignored him as you began to light a couple candles to light the dim tent. “You can borrow my spare furs. Don’t ruin them crow,” you warned.
 “Don’t worry your precious furs are fine with me milady,” he said as he looked around the tent.
You grabbed one of your furs and threw it at him, “Don’t call me that,” you said.
“What?” he asked, “Milady? Are you not a princess milady? Do you have another title milady? What would milady like?”
“Milady would like you to shut the fuck up,” you almost yelled as you sat on your own pile of furs that acted as a bed and began to remove your cloak, flinging it into the corner of the tent.
Jon laughed as he internally celebrated his mini win before he looked around the tent awkwardly, “Where am I supposed to take these?”
You looked up at him, eyebrows knitting in confusion as you took off your boots, “You’re sleeping in  here. With me. Unless you’d prefer the snow?”
“I don’t think your father would- “
“I am his daughter not his possession,” you said as you finally got your second shoe off. “and if its my honour your worried about just know us free folk have another definition of honour,”
“And what’s that?” Jon asked.
You stood up from the furs and grinned, “Well part of it is you not killing me in my sleep. At least wake me up first,” Jon just grumbled something under his breath, and you rolled your eyes, “Are you gonna stand there all night? Get ready for bed dumbass,” you said.
“Fuck off,” Jon said; however, he did as he was told as he laid his furs on the ground and began to take his cloak and boots off.
You ignored the crow as you began to fix your hair for bed. You looked down to where Jon was getting under the furs with his clothes still on, “Are you that cold?” you asked.
“What?” Jon asked but a blush fell on his face as you began to remove your outer layers. “Oh,”
You grinned as you stripped down to a lose long shirt you wore under your other clothes. “I forgot you crows didn’t do the whole sex thing,” you said. Jon avoided looking at you as you sat on your furs, deliberately not going under them. The shirt covered your torso and tops of thighs but apparently your legs were too scandalous for him, “Relax, we’re not having sex. I know you crows don’t have it in you,” you laughed.
“I could!” he protested, his eyes flashing to meet yours then quickly moving away, “But I took a vow saying I wouldn’t take a wife,”
“Who said anything about marriage?” you asked.
Jon rolled his eyes as he began to shed his own outer layers. You kept your eyes on him, smirking as he flushed under your gaze, “Can I help you?” he asked as he took his tunic off.
“You already said no to that,” you grinned, and his flush only depend. “Have you ever had sex?” you asked as you decided to retreat under your furs.
Finally, Jon could look at you without going red, “I made a vow- “
“I meant before that,”
“I was just a boy then,” Jon said who was now in just an under shirt and pants. He climbed under his furs you had gave him as you watched, “Why are you staring at me?”
You laughed at him as he scowled, “Never seen a crow without his clothes on,” you said, “Not half bad,” you laughed as you took the under shirt you had on off, puling the furs up to cover yourself, “Not as good as a wilding though,”
Jon rolled his eyes, but his face was red after he noticed you were now naked in the tent, “Of course you’d say that”
“Want me to prove it?” you offered, sitting up more so the furs slipped down slightly.
Jon blushed more, “No I believe you,” he stammered.
“Do yous not sleep naked?” you asked, deciding to give him some mercy.
Jon laid down, turning to face you on his side still a couple of feet apart. “Some do I suppose. Im always scared someone will walk in,”
“No one will walk into this tent,” you assured him.
Jon snorted, “What? Would Mance kill them?” he asked.
You pulled the dagger out from under your furs, “No, I would,” you grinned, and you saw a look of fear and impress fall on his face. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to get blood on my good furs,”
Jon rolled his eyes before turning to face the other wall. You grinned as you settled down to sleep. However, sleep did not come. Despite the furs you had you felt the chill as a storm seemed to be over the camp. The frigid air beat the side of the tents and whistled in the wind. You had decided to not blow out two candles so you could make sure the crow wasn’t planning to kill you, but it now helped you ask you rolled over to see Jon shivering in his furs.
Admittedly you had gave the boy one of the more scraggily ones and he only had one while you had several. You could tell by the cold he would not be asleep and was merely making. You sighed as you sat up, keeping the furs covering your chest, “You cold?” you asked, already knowing the truth.
“Why do you care?” he asked, not opening his eyes.
You sighed as you moved some of the furs around, “Get under,” you told him and this time Jon opened his eyes, “Toss that one on top and come on,”
“What?” Jon asked as he sat up in his own makeshift bed.
“You’re shivering so much your teeth are gonna break. Get under the furs,” you told him. Jon seemed to debate it, “Your southern honour doesn’t apply here. Get under the furs,” you commanded him.
This time Jon seemed to listen. He got up and quickly fling the fur he had on top of the pile you had on you, and shimming in in between your pile of furs, “I’m not a southerner,” he protested as he joined you in the furs, letting out a sigh as the warmth surrounded his body.
He accidentally nudged into you, and you yelped at his cold skin, “Your like ice!” you squealed.
Jon grinned as he rolled over to face you, “More like snow,” he said. You rolled your eyes, telling him to fuck off under your breath and in response Jon pressed one of his icy hands to your waist.
You squirmed under his touch as he laughed at your yelping. His hands were probably colder than the ice outside but despite this you still wanted his hand on your waist. He pressed the back of the other to your cheek, “You’re playing a dangerous game snow,” you warned him, teeth chattering.
“And whys that?” he asked. Gods was that smirk attractive.
You grabbed the wrist by your face and pushed it back while grabbing the other off your waist, forcing him onto his back with his hands pinned by his head, “I’m quicker,” you smirked. You were now straddling the crow’s waist, your chest exposed and only inches from his. The way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened made your grin grow. “Crow got your tongue?” you asked.
“You might be quicker but I’m stronger,” Jon stuttered out.
However, he made no attempt to make you move which only made you laugh, “So you’re choosing to have a naked woman on top of you. How dishonourable of you Jon Snow,” you tutted.
Jon scowled up at you, “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said and this time you laughed loudly causing his face to go red.
Your laughter stopped when the bastard flipped you onto your back, your legs now wrapped around his waist as he held himself above you. Jon now had your own wrists pinned above your head, allowing you to look down to see his body above you. The nightswatch did something right you had to admit when you saw how toned he was from what his undershirt revealed.
Your eyes scanned over him deliberately slowly before meeting his eyes. “I could get used to this crow,” you said before wrapping your legs tighter around your waist, you pulled him closer causing you to rub against his crotch which you could feel hard against you. You saw his face flush as you chuckled, “You might have honour but he,” you said, grinding against the crow again, “does not,”
“Shut up,” Jon grumbled as he avoided your gaze, but he made no attempts to remove your legs.
You removed your legs from around his waist, causing him to finally glance down at you, “If you want me to stop, I’ll stop,” you said and once again he looked away like a scared puppy, “but no one but us has to know what happened in this tent,” you finished.
Jon looked down at you, his eyes filled with desperation and longing, “Can I kiss you?” he finally asked.
This time your smile was gentle as you pulled your hand free of his before pulling his head closer to yours and placing your lips onto him. Despite loving to tease you could tell how nervous the boy was, so you started the kiss slow, unsure if he had ever kissed anyone before this. His lips were far gentler than any wildings and his hair was soft in your grip.
You tugged gently on his curls causing him to moan against your mouth. You took the opportunity to slip your tongue into Jon’s mouth who gladly let you. You felt his tense body relax against your touch as he rested more of his weight on you.
His arms rested beside either side of your head to keep him up. Taking on of his hands, you brought it down your body, placing his hand on your breast. You could sense his nerves and pulled back slightly, laughing gently, “You can touch me, I don’t bite,” you said, pressing another small kiss to his lips before adding, “much,”
Jon didn’t argue with your smarminess this time and instead gently squeezed where you had placed his hand before diving back into your lips, desperate for your touch. Your other hand slipped away and began to roam down his chest then down his body, feeling his abs underneath his shirt and causing him to shiver.
Then you moved your hand down lower, playing with the band of his under clothes. You felt his stomach tense again under your touch. “I have an idea,” you told him before flipping him back onto his back before he could protest. With his hips under yours, you grinded down onto his hard member causing Jon to groan and his eyes to flutter shut, “We’ve barely even started and look at you,” you cooed down at him.
Jon tried to argue but you rolled your hips against his again and another moan fell out his pretty lips. “Do it again,” he begged. You complied once more before stopping, moving your hands to pull of his shirt so you could trace his abs, “Please,” Jon begged again.
“You’re cute when you’re desperate,” you told him before your eyes flickered back to his body. You trailed your hands over his chest, and you felt Jon buck his hips into yours. In response you lifted your hips up away from his, “You need to be patient,” you warned the crow, “Im much nicer to boys who listen,”
“I’m not a boy,” Jon argued, and you smirked at his words.
Brushing the hair out his face, you looked down at him as he glared at you, “Prove it,” you told him before pressing your hips down, grinding into him again causing him to moan louder this time, “Men don’t beg for me to do this,” you said as you continued rolling your hips against him, “They beg for much more,”
“Please,” Jon begged, his hands moving to grab your hips which you decided to allow, enjoying how they dug into your flesh, “I want to feel you,”
“But do you deserve it?” you asked, still rolling your hips against him, trying to ignore the wet spot that was growing against him and wetting his underclothes.
Jon let out a whine when your hips met his again, “I’ll listen I promise. I promise I’ll be good,” the way he shamelessly begged to be touched made you want to tease him more, but you were afraid he wouldn’t last long enough for it to be worth it.
You hummed at his words, your fingers trailing down his body before arriving at the hem of his remaining clothes. You leant down to press a kiss to his throat as you slid the clothes down his legs. Jon quickly shimmed them off. Now you could see his hard cock that was already red and dripping with precum.
Jons hips bucked as you took his member into your hand, running your thumb over the top. “If you don’t keep still ill stop,” you warned, and Jon did his best to comply as you slowly began to pump your hand up and down. He began to whimper under your touch, begging under his breath to feel you. You moved up to hover over his cock again, running its tip over your wet folds, “Beg me,” you said.
Jon cursed under his breath, his eyes rolling back at the sensation of you against him, “please,” he whimpered, “please just-fuck,” Jon gasped as you sunk down onto him, his eyes screwing shut.
You gasped yourself as you took him in, he was bigger than you had expected. Giving yourself a moment to adjust, you rested your hands on his abs to keep yourself up. Once you began to feel more comfortable you began to roll your hips again, feeling him move deeper into you as you did. “Fuck you feel so good,” you praised, hands gripping onto him. Jon was still moaning under neath you, but you saw a bashful smile cross his lips when you complimented him. “You like that?” you asked moving faster, “Like when I tell you how good you are?”
“Mhmm,” Jon agreed as he let out a string of shameless moans.
You moved your hand to grab his, pulling it up to grab your chest, “Are you scared to touch me crow?” you asked as you used your hands to move his.
“I’m not scared,” Jon said, his breath shaky.
This just made you grin, “Not scared him?” you said, “What pretty noises you're making for me… am I making you feel good?" you asked, and you felt Jon twitch inside you.
You began to roll your hips slower but deeper, feeling yourself hit off his pubic bone, “Fuck please don’t stop,” Jon moaned.
“Aw is the crow gonna cum?” you asked, grabbing his jaw before leaning down to kiss it all while your hips still rolled against his. “You’re such a mess right now you know that?”
“I don’t care,” he stuttered, his breath beginning to catch in his throat.
You continued to leave kisses along his jaw line and neck. “It’s hot when you talk back to me,” you said, your lips grazing his ear before giving it a quick bite.
“You said you don’t bite,” Jon moaned.
“But you like it don’t you?” you said, biting his jaw gently causing him to moan. “You’re so pretty like this,” you said, sitting back up to allow yourself to move your hips better. You sped up you’re bouncing, and you felt Jon squeeze your tits tighter and his cock twitching more.
“I’m gonna,” Jon started to saw, his hips rutting up against yours. You sped up slightly, wanting to savour your last few pumps, before quickly pulling off him. Jon whined but your hands instantly replaced your cunt and within two strokes he had came all over his stomach as you rested over his thighs. “Fuck,” Jon panted as he tried to catch his breath.
You laughed as you fell over to lay beside him, also out of breath. “Maybe you’re not so bad after all,” you said as Jon whipped his stomach off with a cloth you passed him.
“Is that so?” Jon asked, throwing the cloth to the side, “What about you?” Jon asked as he rolled over to face you.
“What about me?” you asked.
Jons hand trailed over your thighs, his fingers mere inches away from your wet cunt, “You didn’t, you know,” he said, his cheeks flushing.
“It’s okay I don’t mind,” you told him as you went to push his hand away.
Jon gripped your thigh to stop you, “But I wanted you to,” he pouted.
You raised an eyebrow at the man, “What did you have in mind?” you asked.
Jon trailed his fingers closer to your core which was beginning to feel so empty without him in it, “My watch brothers told me about this thing you do to women to make them,” Jon began to stammer out his words. “You know,”
“You want to make me cum,” you confirmed, and Jon gave you a sheepish nod. You laid back into your furs, settling yourself in. “Show me what how the crows do it,” you told him.
Jon hesitated for a second before he began to shuffle down, his head disappearing under the furs. Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, but a moan ripped through your throat as Jon placed a kiss to your cunt. The wildings didn’t do it like this. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he had to be smirking as he began to lick a stripe up your cunt. He began soft at first before he began to lap up your juices, his tongue massaging your core. You didn’t stop the moans as he continued to kiss and lick you.
Then you felt his fingers tease your hole and you felt a knot tighten in your stomach as they slipped into you. Jons tongue trailed up to focus on placing sloppy kisses to your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. You moaned his name when you felt his fingers curl inside you. Your skin felt hot as his face was buried in your cunt, his spare hand gripping your thighs.
Your hands were knotted in his curls, keeping his face where you needed him. The knot in your stomach tightened with every curl and pump of his fingers. The pressure continued to build as he kissed your clit before taking it in his mouth and lightly sucking it. the feeling sent you over the edge. You gripped his hair even tighter as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue which never stopped till you let go of his hair as you began to come down from your peak.
“Why so quiet now?” Jon teased as he came out from under the furs, his face soaked with your juices.
You were almost gasping for breath as you pulled the furs to cover you, “Is that how the lords please their lady’s?” you asked him.
Jon grinned at you, placing a kiss to your cheek, “I’m not sure,” he confessed, “I just wanted to kiss you there,”
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hikarimiyanaga · 1 year ago
Text
The Queen's Bride (Part 1)
Summary :
Being a rich man's kid isn't as exciting as everyone makes it out to be.
You have no freedom.
Every choice has been made for you ever since you were born.
What you eat. What course you were going to study. What school you're going to.
Even the one you were going to marry.
So to your surprise, your father has finally chosen one thing right for you.
Daenerys Targaryen.
Warnings : Omegaverse. Stark!Reader. Omega!Reader x Alpha!Daenerys Targaryen. Modern!AU.
Look who's finally watching Game of Thrones. Surprise, surprise, I fell in love with Daenerys.
"This is bullshit!" Jon, your cousin, shouts as he paces around you.
Both of you were just given two names.
Two people you never met that you were going to spend the rest of your life with.
"Who the fuck is Ygritte and why do I have to marry her?" Jon shouts in frustration and you shrug.
"I mean, Father could've paired you with one of the Lannisters. Myrcella is an omega-"
"Shut up." Jon glares at you.
"You have to admit it. Ygritte is pretty as fuck."
"Lucky for Robb, huh? He's the heir so he could choose freely."
"She is. But- I don't know her, Y/N." Jon sighs as he sits next to you.
"Lucky asshole." You slap his arm.
"He's my big brother."
"He is. I wish I could be the heir."
"Seriously? You? Jon Stark of Winterfell Corp? Are you hearing me?"
"Shut up." The two of you look at each other then laugh. "Yours is pretty too, by the way. And a Targaryen too."
"Why them? Our mottos are literally parallels."
"Yeah. Winter is Coming."
"Fire and Blood. Like why her?" You groan at the ceiling.
"Just be glad that she's pretty. Some don't get that lucky."
"Are you talking about-" Jon nods and you sigh.
"I just wish we had freedom."
"Me too. Y/N. Me too."
-
You get your bag and look at the empty apartment around you.
"I need Sansa to room with me. Like gods, this place is fucking big enough for ten people at least." You mumble to yourself as you leave the apartment.
Just like everything else in your life. The apartment was provided by your Father, Ned Stark. You could count the number of times on your fingers that you've actually talked to him rather than just receive orders or scolding from him.
Your phone rings just as you get inside the Westeros University. You answer it as you see your little sister's name.
"Y/N! How are you?" You smile at Arya's voice.
"I'm good, Arry. Where are you?" How is she calling you right now?
"I'm at home. There was a lice problem at school today so we went home! Are you free??" You grin at her exciting tone.
"In two hours, I will be. Why?"
"Can we go play? Mom said she'll let me go to the mall if I'm with you!"
"Sure, can you wait there and behave?"
"Yep! See you later!"
"See you." You say softly and smile as you go to your first and last class of the day. You were so glad that you chose your own schedule. You sit down at your usual seat and hum as you take out your laptop. Looks like professor Varys is late today.
Westeros University is the biggest University in all of Westeros. It has lessons even in magic.
"Did you hear, Y/N?" You look up as Oberyn sits beside you. You were somewhat friends. He can charm anyone in a room while you can outread anyone in a room. Truth be told, even you didn't know why he talked to you.
"Hear what?"
"Not interested in rumors as usual?" He asks and you shake your head.
"Even if Varys tells us otherwise, I still don't like rumors and hearsays." Oberyn nods and grins in satisfaction.
"Which is why you make the perfect audience." You sigh. "Listen to this. Someone is doing it."
"Doing what?"
"Seeing if the dragons will choose them."
"Seriously? That thing hasn't been done in like 200 years."
"Right? But someone is brave enough to do it now. You know what it means, right?"
"Yeah. They get to sit on the Iron Throne regardless of their last name."
"And?" You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.
"And what?"
"Complete freedom!" You tilt your head at him. "No more choices by parents! No arranged marriages!"
"Damn. Sounds like a dream come true."
"For you guys. I still don't get why you guys won't love freely."
"Because last names have a value of their own. Here at Westeros at least. Oh. And Westeros Conglomerate too." Oberyn shakes his head.
"What you guys should value is talent, not blood."
"Meritocracy rather than blood right. Reasonable." Oberyn looks at you. "I don't make the choices though."
"Marry the king then."
"I'd rather die, Oberyn. I'd rather eat my own shit."
"Still hate men?"
"Only romantically." Oberyn chuckles just as Varys comes through the door.
"You're missing out on like half of the world then." You give him a smile.
"I don't think I am."
-
You hum as you park your car in front of the Stark Mansion. You were just getting your bag when you feel a pair of arms circle around your legs. You look down and see Arya smiling at you.
"Hey, Arya!" You scoop her up and she squeals. Arya is only 9 years younger but you love doing this to her. "Where's Ma and Father?"
"Dad is still at work! Ma is inside!" You put her down and nod.
"Come on, then. I'll tell Ma that I'll take you to the mall." Arya grins at you and she begins to tell you about her classmates and school.
"And then this one guy-"
"Y/N! You're home!" Catelyn Stark rushes over and hugs you. You hug her just as tightly.
"Hey, Ma. Arya wanted to play with me and it's been months since I've been home so I figured I should take her."
"I'm sure she understands that you're busy with university and all."
"I know, Ma! But school is out and she said she was free." Arya pouts from beside you and you smile.
"I am free, no worries." You ruffle Arya's hair and she smiles at you.
"Be sure to be back for Dinner then."
"We'll buy some before we get home. Are Robb and Father-"
"Busy." You nod in understanding then take Arya's hand.
"You ready for an afternoon with me? Your best sister?"
"YEAH! We'll destroy those high scores in the arcade!" You grin and agree.
-
You come home with a passed out Arya, a bag full of plushies, and a bag with food.
"You actually made her sleep? You are a godsend." You laugh at your mom and grin.
"Once you get Arya's quirks and use them against her, she can make herself run out of energy."
"Please don't tell-"
"Ma, she wants to. She can afford to learn it still."
"But her marri-"
"She's still 9, ma. She doesn't need to think about that yet."
"Right. Are you staying for dinner at least?"
"Sure. Is Sansa-" Before you finish your sentence, someone has already hugged you.
"Y/N! Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" You turn around and find your other little sister, Sansa Stark.
"Well, I had to exhaust this one so." Sansa looks at Arya who was cuddling your neck still.
"Whoa. Arya never sleeps this early."
"Like I said. Exhausted. Are Brandon and Rickon here?"
"Yep! They should be getting back from Winterfell by now."
"What did they do there??"
"Father wanted to show them something. Are you staying tonight?"
"If you're willing to share your bed."
"ALWAYS!" You shush her and smile.
"I'll just be putting this one in her bed then I'll come down. Here." You give the bag full of food to Catelyn and smile. "Some of my favorites."
"I'll plate them up." You nod and begin your walk with Arya still sleeping while cuddling your neck.
"You're becoming heavier, Arya. I wonder if I should do some training just so I can carry you around."
-
"Y/N! You're back!" Brandon says then hugs you.
"Hey, little brother." You kiss his head and smile as he beams at you.
"SIS!" Rickon shouts then tackles you to no avail.
"Heya, baby bro." You pick him up and grin. "Did you grow??"
"I did! I'm defeating Arya soon!" You grin at him.
"Don't let her hear you!" You ruffle his hair then turn to Sansa. "Did you do your homework yet?"
"No? Will you help me later?" She gives you her puppy dog eyes and you groan at her. You admit that you're too weak to your siblings.
"Fine. But no talking about boys. I swear to God if I hear one more thing about-"
"But Ser Loras is just so dreamy." You look at her with a deadpan expression.
"Try me and I will sleep besides Arya." Sansa pouts.
"Fine. No boy talk." She grumbles. "Stingy."
"I'm gay. I'd rather marry another omega as long as she's a woman." Catelyn smiles as she sees you getting along with your siblings.
"Do not plant ideas in their head."
"Ma, Sansa is as straight as a ruler. These two don't even know what their second genders are." Catelyn rolls her eyes at you. "That reminds me, when's your test?" You look at Sansa as you place Rickon at his seat.
"This Monday! I'm so excited to confirm that I'm an Omega!"
"And if you're a beta?" You ask and Catelyn slaps your arm. "What? There's nothing wrong about being a beta! I wanted to be one before."
"You did?" Sansa asks and you nod. "Why?"
"More options." Catelyn hits your head and you laugh.
"Why? Does being an omega lessen your options?"
"Technically, I can't have another omega as my soulmate. Not that it matters."
"Oh yeah, dad said he sent you someone." You roll your eyes at that.
"He sent a file of someone. He wouldn't just let some stranger in my apartment."
"Who is it?? Can we know??" You groan at the excitement in Sansa's voice. There's nothing more that interests her than love talk.
"She's a Targaryen."
"The Dragon Family!" Rickon shouts and you ruffle his hair.
"Yup! Bran, do you know their motto?" Brandon hums as he gets some food.
"Yeah. Fire and Blood, right?"
"Yup! You all will get some ice cream. I brought some earlier." Catelyn glares at you. "What?"
"Cavities."
"I only visit once in a while, Ma. Just this once." Catelyn pinches your cheek. "Ow! Give! Give!"
"Just this once and don't ever do this again without saying anything to me."
"Yes, Ma! I got it! Ow!" Catelyn finally lets you go and you hold your cheek. You pout at her. "You didn't have to pinch that hard."
"You know how I feel about sweets." You sigh.
"I know. Sorry."
-
"Good thing the ice cream didn't give Rickon sugar rush."
"Yeah. It was a relief that Ma didn't pinch me."
"Those two boys really love you and adore you."
"They do." You look at Sansa and pat her hair. "I hope you become a beta, baby girl." Sansa scoffs at you.
"Wha- why!?" You smile sadly at her.
"So then you'll have more freedom." Sansa holds your hand. "Sadly. As an Omega, everything is controlled for you here in Westeros. Specially if you have a last name of a noble."
"Y/N." You squeeze her hand and grin.
"Hopefully, you and Arya get to decide your own futures. And your own partners." Sansa gets teary eyed at that. You let go of her hand then pat her hair again. "Time to get ready for bed. I'll just check on Arya for a second, okay?" Sansa nods at you and you close her door before covering your mouth with your hand.
Freedom. What a grand word. For you, it was thrown out the window when you got your test results.
Everyone says that Omegas have equal standings with Alphas. That the world is getting better.
"What a load of fucking bullshit." You mumble to yourself as you make your way to Arya's room.
You open the door and see that Arya is still fast asleep. You get to her bed and kiss her head.
"I hope you'll have more freedom than me, little one." You tuck her in and leave.
-
PS.
Jon is a Stark here and Catelyn knows he's Lyanna's son but no one knows who his father is. Let's just pretend for a second that he's not a Targaryen.
I actually was going to go the usual route for this aka Alpha Reader but decided against it. Omega Reader just works better for the angst inside my head.
162 notes · View notes
faerievampling · 8 months ago
Text
Killing Time
Chapter 7: Eternity's Promise
Summary: Astarion is alone.
Word Count: 4.9k
Pairing: Soft Ascended Astarion x Female Spawn Tav/Reader
Warning: 18+. Blood and Violence. PiV. Cunnilingus. Handjob. Masturbation. Obsessing over his consort’s panties. Obsessive and Possessive behavior. Heavy trigger warning for Panic Attack & Anxiety. Our vampire lord really going through it.
Link to AO3!
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.
Masterlist
A/N: yall this one was hard to write and took way longer than I intended, i hope I did it justice. please enjoy <3 I’m hoping chapter 8 will be out soon, I have 4 days off next week (mini vacation!) so I still intent to post chapter 8 this coming week :)
Pic by: @druidess-vp <3
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Astarion believed he hadn’t forgotten what true suffering felt like: there had been too many times in his past where he was tortured, beaten, starved – no, he had certainly suffered. But the vampire lord had been out of touch with his pain for a long time, enveloped in a loving, fairy-tale-like existence with his darling consort, so perfect and submissive, for the past two thousand years. 
Astarion had everything he could ever want: riches, power, eternal love.
Even when he listened to the news from the realms, on how multiple nations had evolved to civil war, the threat of societal breakdown imminent, he had you, which was enough for him. Everything else could be rebuilt, just like the Ancunín name – but you couldn’t be replaced. 
“Involve the military. Whatever needs to be done, have it done,” Astarion demanded, his frustration growing immensely as he was acutely aware of his wife’s discomfort at the banquet; but he had to ignore it. Astarion had an incredibly powerful mind after his ascent, but that didn’t stop him from feeling mentally spread thin.
“The people are already marching to the capital of Amn. Neverwinter has been taken by a militia,” A man said; Astarion hardly bothered to memorize the faces of his advisors and other figureheads, anymore. It was easier to identify them by scent alone. 
Astarion mindlessly twists his wedding ring, the only one he had chosen to wear. He wanted to protect the Ancunín fortune and the power he’d consolidated, if possible – and most of all,  he really didn’t want to have to handle the managing of accounts during a coup. 
Suddenly, Astarion senses a strange feeling – one that he is familiar with, instantly recognizing it: a vision is coming over you, and he’s already racing towards you, wasting no time excusing himself.
“Astarion, Astarion, Astarion!” Your voice rang out in his head as you called his name over and over. Your fear was imminent, your panic rising by the second.
“I’m coming, my love!” Astarion desperately responds, but your cries only continue, racking through his mind as your fear becomes his own.
“Follow,” Astarion commands Alpohso and Ygritte, who obey immediately. 
Snip.
Astarion’s eyes widen. There is something bubbling inside him, deep in his chest, threatening to blossom as he digs his nails into his palm. It’s painful, making his heart physically ache. Your thoughts and feelings slip away from him, making that void between the two of you entirely empty: Astarion only hears his own thoughts reverberating in his mind. 
Upon viewing the Vampire Ascendant when the cord is cut with his consort, he merely pauses, his intensity so frightening that his spawn tremble with fear, dropping to their knees, ready to serve their Master in whatever way possible. He is empty, a vassal of space that is filled with a vicious anger so feral and vile that Astarion himself fears it. He doesn’t understand what’s happened: he knows you aren’t dead, because he would just know if you were, but he can’t sense you anymore, can’t probe into your mind, and for the first time in two millennia, Astarion finds himself alone.
You are his: his first spawn, his favorite spawn, his consort, his wife, his best friend, his one and only. “Where the hells are you?”
Astarion doesn’t come back to himself until he hears the high pitched screaming of a woman in his ear. He is back at the crèche, in a grand hall he doesn’t even recognize. Astarion knows he followed your scent here, to the end of the trail.
The blonde servant is holding onto a pile of blood and guts on the floor, the gore slipping through her hands as she clutches her chest. Looking at the blood on his hands, he couldnt be sure what he’d done to the spawn, but Astarion thought the servant was surely being dramatic – Ruth would heal, he was a vampire for god's sakes, and the pain the couple felt was nothing compared to how Astarion himself felt.
Something about seeing the two lovers together makes Astarion even more angry, his fury growing steady with every passing moment of your absence. Your voice plays back in his head, your image, the memory of your tender touch…
Cynthia sobs echo through the chamber of the dining hall, even louder than the crowd of gith that hung around the corridor, as she brings her wrist to Ruth’s mouth: the vampire latches on, sucking greedily at his lover. Astarion thinks it might make him feel better if he killed Ruth’s beloved; it would be an apt punishment for the spawn, but it wouldn’t be great enough. Astarion didn’t think any punishment would. Moving towards the couple, Astarion feels a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
The hand is firm, not aggressive but assertive. The hold on him isn’t trying to keep his fist, but get his attention; Astarion turns to see Lae’zel, her makeup smudged and eyes filled with common fury.
Astarion can hear the sound of the Kith’rak attempting to clear the hall, followed by a barrage of questions from the crowd. 
Astarion flinches away from her, her touch only making his skin crawl. He flits through her mind before she can even speak, gathering all the information the gith had about your disappearance. You vanished through a portal of darkness, Ziir’o had grabbed your hand, but the force was too strong, and you slipped away.
Lae’zel begins to speak, but Astarion moves past her, deciding Ziir’o should also be punished. But Astarion stops, recognizing something in the eyes of several of the gith: they, too, longed for you. It only reminded him of your absence, of that blank space in his mind that only increased, like the never ending expansion of the universe.
“You promised me forever, Tav.”
Instead of crushing the young gith’s chest and eating his heart, Astarion materializes into red mist, flitting away from the scene to scan the crèche for any sign of you. After many hours, he finds himself in the enchanted forest, zipping through the trees and murdering anything in sight.
The cavern in his chest only grows more hollow, and Astarion finds himself crying out for you with every stab, every bite, until his throat feels sore. He ran himself to the point of exhaustion, and although he would recover quickly, the wild thumping of Astarion’s heart made him feel a bit more steady. Alive, reminding him that he was still here, even if you weren’t, which means that he would just have to get you back.
Once Astarion finds his way back to your room, he numbly lays himself on your side of the bed, his nose rubbing into your pillowcase. He knows he can't waste any time, and he will only stay like this for a moment – but it’s a moment he needs, because he’s feeling your absence wash over him all over again, threatening to sweep him off his feet.
He finds himself in a daze, and there is a feeling in his heart that could only be described as frigid. Astarion brushes his fingers through his silver curls, closing his eyes as he accepts how wrong he was to think he ever understood suffering.
****
Astarion rests for only a moment before his mind is itching at him again, his thoughts on loop as his heart churns in his stomach. He felt desperate for your scent, desperate for any sign of you: he found his way to your laundry, finding the clothes you had worn to training that the servant hadn’t gotten around to washing yet. 
They smelled distinctly of your sweat, your blood, and he needed your odor close to him – gods did his chest ache. Astarion would swear on his life his heart wasn’t physically beating right in his chest: he imagined it bruised and broken, fragmented, all its pieces being held by you, leaving behind a shell of a man. 
Astarion lays your clothing on the bed, finding himself clutching your silk panties in his hand. They were white, perfect for one so demure and delicate as his beautiful spawn wife –
Bringing the crotch of your underclothes to his nose, he closes his eyes as he takes in your most intimate scent: but it only makes him feel a deep ache inside, his hardening cock only making matters worse. “I need you, Tav.”
He decides to lose himself in the moment, to escape the looming pain: freeing his member, the warmth of his hand and the fabric of your soft panties has him coming undone quicker than anticipated. His strokes are rough, fast, and he’s imagining your hot, wet mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, his tip reaching the back of your throat. Your eyes would always tear up, but you were such a champion for him –
Astarion lets out a strangled cry as he shoots thick spurts of come, careful not to soil your underclothes, his tears falling before he can stop them. 
Astarion doesn’t understand how this has happened: doesn’t understand how he will begin to fathom that you are gone. He knows he must act soon, but his entire body is aching for you, his hands shaking. His orgasm only made him feel your absence more, and Astarion is cursing himself. 
Suddenly, Astarion remembers the necklace, the warding bond, and he’s grabbing at his throat, only to find the twinkle of the gem had died. Astarion can’t help but imagine you dead, or chained up somewhere, being used – the thought makes him sick.
Moth had you. It was the only person in the world who would take you from him. Astarion had left you alone, and now you were gone, and it was entirely the worst feeling he could recall, other than when Cazador’s blade carved the symphony of the contract into his back. 
Astarion really couldn’t waste anymore time, he decided. He needed to know the specifics of how you were taken and where: he knew about several of Moth’s palaces, and who knows how many more the dragonborn might have, but he may be able to narrow it down if he could get close enough to search for your scent. 
Once Astarion’s recovered, he stuffs your panties into his pocket before gathering your things; he’s interrupted by a brief knock on the door before it swings open. Lae’zel enters, followed by the spawn and your warriors, all ten of them. Astarion hissed at the intrusion, not wanting any of them to muck up the smell of you that still lingered in the room.
Lae’zel immediately notices Astarion’s bloodshot eyes. She remembers something an old hero said, something about vampire lords not being able to love, only craving one thing. The state of her pale friend makes Lae’zel question if what the old hero said was anything more than plain ignorance. 
Their conversation happens in a snapshot, Astarion’s tone lifeless but nonetheless frightening: “This is your fault.”
Lae’zel blinks. “You needn’t be absurd. We are here to help you, Astarion.”
Astarion doesn’t respond for some time; he is thinking about your smile, his deplorable thoughts twisting this precious image to one of your fangs piercing the throat of a dragonborn. Astarion had heard Moth was known for his exotic beauty, and he is seething at the very thought of you caressing scaled skin. 
It was worse if he was taking you by force, if you weren’t enjoying it – that is only the cruelest torture, and Astarion is prepared to tear across realms to prevent this from happening. But if Astarion was being honest with himself, it hurt him more to imagine that you were enjoying your time with this other man. This other vampire…this other lord. ‘He will be her new Master.’ The thought has Astarion crawling in his flesh. He had to have you back, either way. And he was not so proud to deny help, not when it came to you.
“A wizard. We need a good one.” Astarion looked around the room, his hand involuntarily grabbing at the fabric in his pocket, almost as if to check they were still there. He would have to find something else to track you, something of yours that he was willing to part with: your adorable white panties were not one of them.
The gith nod at his request, Lae’zel sending one of the young ones to fetch a shirt of yours.There is something about Astarion’s aura that clears the room, leaving only Lae’zel and the spawn behind, who kneel whenever Astarion is idle. It deeply unsettles Lae’zel, but something about this entire situation felt off to her.
“Is it not strange, to you, that this lord betrays the nature of vampires by taking a spawn he didn’t create?” Lae’zel asks, wiping away a smudge of makeup with a finger. Drenched in sweat and a few tears, It had been a long night for her. Handling Orpheus and the Kith’rak’s reaction to the situation had her reeling: Orpehus was more apt to help, but Elan wanted the vampires gone. Lae’zel and Orpehus had the final say, of course, and she was permitted to continue doing what she was doing: gathering her fighters and spreading her cause in whichever way needed to happen. She couldn’t leave Astarion like this and knew this was the next part of her strange journey.
“It’s not that strange  if you consider the fact that this lord is utterly insane.” Astarion also thought it was rather strange how the Crystalline Spire had no windows, and it made him feel even more closed in. “And I am the only vampire alive who matches him in power. It was only a matter of time before he attempted to take me down.”
“He is a red dragonborn, correct?”
“Yes.”
“It is in their nature to hoard. You’re sure his first name is Geldon? Geldon Moth, the red dragonborn?” Lae’zel’s quizzical tone was beginning to irritate Astarion.
Astarion looked to his spawn. “Up. Gather.” Lae’zel watches uneasily as the two spawn begin to collect the rest of your things. “What do you mean to say?”
“He can’t be much older than you, Astarion. Dragonborn had only been in Toril for hardly two hundred years when you and Tav met.”
“Don’t say her name,” Astarion’s voice was a force that barreled through Lae’zel’s mind, causing her to grab the sides of her head in anguish. The corner of Astarion’s mouth twitches, relishing in the way her heart flutters with fear.
“Do you think I'm an idiot, Lae’zel?” Astarion’s heart is filled with fury, with grief, and Lae’zel backs up to brace herself for a fight. His knees are bent, and he’s nearly crouched, like a predator. “He is only a hundred years older than me. He was named and raised by humans after his parents were slaughtered, and he was created by a vampire far greater than I.”
Astarion pauses, his face softer than Lae’zel had seen before. “Lae’zel. Moth has resources beyond what I’ve amassed. He has a harem of spawn who fight for him, and even more thralls. If I could find the bastard, I could probably take him down myself, but he’s well protected. And he has what is most precious to me. I have to be careful…I have to think.”
But Astarion was having a hard time thinking of anything but you. 
Lae’zel steeled herself, clearly shaken by the situation.”And you have a hoard of gith. And the daylight. And me, of course.” She gave him a weak smile, but it was one Astarion oddly appreciated. He doesn’t return it, but stares at her for what feels like an eternity to Lae’zel before the spawn are kneeling before him once more, prepared for their next task. 
“I must do whatever to get her back. At any cost.”
Lae’zel pauses. There is something she doesn’t understand, something she’s missing: the empty look in Astarion’s eyes gives it away. But she retreats, knowing when to choose her battles. 
“We’re returning home for the time being. Ring me once your witch doctor is done with his tricks.” With that, Lae’zel watches as Astarion turns the corner, disheveled silver curls disappearing at the bend.
“Wait!” Lae’zel runs after him. “Let me come with you, Astarion.”
Astarion turns to her, unable to hide the glassy look in his eyes. He flits through her mind with ease.“You think you still love her. And what you feel for her, Lae’zel, is so very little compared to the bond I share with my wife.”
Lae’zel’s cheeks flush. “My feelings matter not, Astarion. Our friend, Tav, is missing –“ Astarion turns around, but Lae’zel continues, sensing that despite his actions, he was still listening. “I wouldn’t ever leave her behind. Gale, Karlach, Shadowheart, Wyll…none of us would ever have let harm come to her. It will be that way all my life, as it was for theirs.”
Astarion hardly reacts, already leagues away. “Do whatever you want. You know how to find me.” 
****
Astarion isn’t surprised when Lae’zel shows up with five githyanki fighters on her heels; Astarion immediately knows it’s your warriors, the ones whose scents tended to linger on you longer than the others. He meets them in the portal room of your palace, the one the Ancunín’s called home.
“Our mages have yet to find any trace of her on Toril,” Lae’zel’s words inspire only frustration within Astarion. “Astarion, tell me why you cannot sense her on your own.”
Astarion turns, his back to Lae’zel and the others. Silently commanding his spawn to escort the gith out, Lae’zel and Astarion are left alone in his office. He turns to a large painting of you, noticing it having caught Lae’zel’s eye. 
In the picture, you’re looking over your bare shoulder, your long hair cascading down your back. The expression on your face is soft, your plush lips parted in a way that made you look girlish. Your red eyes seemed to follow Lae’zel, who decided she much preferred your old eye color. 
“I’ve had many of her done over the years. That one is my favorite.” This wasn’t true, but Lae’zel didn’t need to know about the collection of lewd paintings Astarion had of you hanging in the boudoir. 
“When was this painting of her done? It’s lovely.” She asks, her tone as steady as her arm.
“Around eight centuries ago.”
“It’s difficult to fathom that much time has passed,” Lae’zel takes a breath in. “You know, I still remember how she reacted on the docks when the tadpole died.”
Astarion flinches at the thought. When the tadpole died, your vampirism became fully actualized; your hunger had become immediately apparent, uncomfortable. Your senses had drastically sharpened, the smell of blood and guts and the sound of beating hearts hitting you all at once. Your eyes widened, filling with tears as your hunger pains wrecked you. Astarion had felt it, your pain, because your vampiric connection had solidified in that moment: it was beautiful, terrifying, and it was then Astarion knew he would always be a slave to you.
Astarion had to take you away from the others, feeding you from his own wrist while doing his best to restrain you until you got your fill. If you were full, your hunger was easy to control – and a vampire’s hunger is everlasting, even if the vampire has special abilities. 
“She didn’t suffer for long that day. I’ve taken care of her from the moment I made her mine,” Astarion narrows his eyes at her, raising his voice as he feels his anger rising. “Why do you bring up the past? What relevance does this have to finding her?”
“You must know where I stand with you, Astarion. I still cannot bring myself to forgive you for turning her into a vampire. For stealing her life, which you so happily did.”
Astarion grimaces before flashing his fangs at her. He hadn’t really the energy to spare. He sighs before he speaks. “I can easily read your mind, Lae’zel. All your pointless words amount to nothing, to me, because I really don’t give a shit. The only thing I care about is getting my wife back. Hats off to you for saying it to my face, I suppose.”
“She was different after that.”
“Still on about that, are we? We both made sacrifices so that we could spend eternity together. That was my promise to her, and I intend to keep it. Let's not waste anymore time.”
****
After a long day of traversing portals across Toril, handling a divide of a once united world, and dealing with the attitude on Lae’zel, Astarion wanted nothing more than to be alone at the end of the day. He had worked through most of the night before Bethild suggested the lord should rest. He had reluctantly agreed.
“Bring me a glass of red, would you?” Astarion didn’t bother to clean his desk: he would be back in just a few hours. 
Bethild hesitated for only a moment. “Of course, my Lord.” The request was an odd one coming from Astarion, but Bethild was good and never questioned him.
Astarion was met with your favorite red wine by the time he arrived at the boudoir. He thought it far too strong and bitter to be drunk before bed, but it did taste like you: right at the fall of night, before you washed away the doings of the day. He swished the wine in his mouth, savoring its sour flavor before he swallowed. 
Astarion can’t help but dwell on what Lae’zel said: how you were different after your turning. This was undeniably true, Astarion himself having experienced it: you were overall less emotional, but more prone to violence, and you enjoyed combat far more than you ever did. But these things had only made Astarion love you more, and your feelings for him only grew, as well. Astarion would know, because he was always watching his darling.
Astarion hadn’t bothered changing since you vanished, and he realized he was still in the extravagant, elegant clothing he had been in at that stupid meeting about the mortal wars. Studying his ensemble, Astarion feels tight all of a sudden, like he buttoned his clothing too tight, or his chest was being crushed, or like he was underwater – drowning. His breathing quickened until the tips of his fingers went numb, and he was surely dying.
But Astarion reasonably knew that he couldn’t actually die like this: but something inside told him he simply wasn’t safe. Astarion grabs at his collar, yanking the buttons free as he easily tears through the fabric, and he doesn’t stop until he’s on his knees, shredded cloth at his feet. Sitting back on his heels, he brings his ring to his lips before losing all composure. His tears are hot and salty, streaming down his cheeks as his arms move to wrap around his waist. When his fingers brush the scar tissue on his back, he flinches away, not even feeling safe in his own body. 
Bringing his hand back to his mouth, Astarion bites his wedding ring, bringing his tongue to the metal, savoring the metallic flavor as he takes a deep breath. He stays like this for some time before gathering himself up. He was a mess, and as he walked to the bathroom to wash up, he caught a glimpse of himself in a vanity mirror.
He wasn’t surprised at his puffy eyes and disheveled hair. Astarion typically gazed into any mirror he could: he adored his reflection, and yours, which had been a triumph of his as a vampire. He was able to give you something that was so cruelly taken from him, and you never had to forget your gorgeous face. 
Astarion gazed heavily into his own eyes, which were the same shade of deep crimson as yours. ‘How rare. How sweet.’ 
Every thought of you burned him, like a double edged sword: to try not thinking of you hurt just as much. Astarion narrows his eyes at himself – even after two millennia of being able to see his reflection, he never got tired of it, but there was something in his expression that was just off. If he looks close enough, if he focuses only on his eyes, he can see you in him…
“I love you, Tav.” But it doesn’t fill the growing void in his chest. The words weren’t a magic spell, even if they felt like it when spoken from your lips. Astarion returns to the bed he once shared with you, your clothes littering the mattress as your beloved vampire desperately tore through your belongings, grabbing anything and everything that smelled like you. 
He should have told you that more. How much he adored you – how much he loved you. How his heart beat only for you, and everything he had in this world was nothing without you. How he felt that even with his ascension, even with everything he’s given you, he still hadn’t given enough.
Astarion stays in reverie while he can – at least until the sun comes up. For now, Astarion simply wants to live in memories of you: your smile, your laugh, your smooth, flawless skin, the pitch of your voice…
Astarion’s tongue was between your lips, your kisses languid and sloppy as the two of you lay naked in bed, silken sheets resting at your hips. Astarion has you on your back; he is perched on his elbow, curls falling out of place as he’s forgotten the world around him.
His tongue sucked and stroked your own, a trail of saliva connecting your lips when he pulled away to look at you. “My treasure…”
Astarion twitches. This had been right before Lae’zel showed up and ruined it all. Astarion goes back further, to a more lewd memory:
Your cunt was sucking his cock in, taking him so relentlessly that he felt like you wouldn’t ever let him go. His hands roamed your body, his fingers stopping to tug at your nipple, the hardening bud sensitive enough to make your back arch just from his touch.
He softly ruts into you, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Tell me again, my favorite spawn.” Before you could respond, Astarion grasped your jaw with his hand, meeting your eyes to his. “Obey me.”
“I love you, Master Astarion.”
“Tav…” the elf moans, his mind already involuntarily flickering to another memory.
Astarion is perched at a window. He swiftly breaks the lock, entering the house silently, crouching as he approaches a sleeping man. 
The man was tall, muscular, his curly red hair and copper skin immediately having an effect on you. Astarion thought the man rather attractive himself, and permitted you to ask him to bed. He had been invited back to the Ancunín estate many times.
Astarion thinks about the way you cried out the man’s name the last time the three of you were together as he slid the dagger into his throat. The way you run your fingers through the hair on the man’s chest and groin flashes before Astarion’s eyes when the man tries to ask why.
“I won’t share in her heart.”
Astarion opens his eyes, cursing at the wretched memory. He didn't understand why he was dwelling on such things, but the pit in his stomach spoke tenfold: he had never told you the truth about the man’s death, even when you cried after hearing the news of it. He hid the information away from you, one of the few secrets he kept, and it only made his stomach churn to think about it. Astarion shakes these thoughts away as he eases out of the bed and makes his way to the balcony. He breathes in the cool night air, the stars shining bright in the sky as he looks off into the abyss of the city below. 
In the coming days, Astarion would be in agony: he wouldn’t rest, his mind flitting to you every second as his thoughts became single minded, obsessive, like he was on a loop that is purely you. Astarion has music playing in the halls continuously, because he began hearing an echo of your voice throughout the palace, and he really thought himself going mad. 
He would create many more spawn, sending them out into the night to scout for your scent. Astarion himself would do so for days, even returning to the crèche to ensure he hadn’t missed any information, but all roads lead to nowhere.
On the mantle of the fireplace in the grand boudoir, a painting hangs: you lie on your back, your breasts exposed, the expression in your eyes is hungry, wanting, and your lips are parted just enough to see the tip of your fangs. Your arms are overhead, as if you are lounging in a stretch. Your thighs are together, and when Astarion looks at the painting, he imagines spreading them, taking your folds in his mouth and pleasuring you until you’ve come undone around his tongue. Astarion has thousands of memories of you like this, desperate and whimpering for him, and something about knowing he’s fucked you, his eternal bride, far more times than his body count brings comfort to him.
But no amount of memories could replace you. Tears were unbecoming of a vampire lord, and yet they began to feel like second nature to Astarion. 
****
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.
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pastanest · 2 years ago
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Requested by: @neymarjrrwife, I really hope you like it!! ♡
A/N: for this, we’re going to pretend Ygritte was never romantically involved with Jonny boy :) also, this unintentionally evolved into my favourite trope of all time...yep, you guessed it...thERE'S ONLY ONE BED
Jon Snow x she/her!reader
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A Song Of Sunshine And Snow
The knock at his door causes an immediate conflict of emotions within the newly nominated Lord Commander. While he welcomes any distraction from the paper-bound responsibilities of his new role that bore him beyond belief, any interruption when he is shut in his quarters usually brings about an unpleasant circumstance that he is the one now trusted to resolve. 
Sighing, Jon Snow lifts his tired eyes from the seemingly endless rolls of parchment on his desk and looks to the door. “Come in.”
With a sense of urgency, Samwell Tarly bundles through the door and Jon has to resist rolling his eyes, immediately parting his lips to remind his best friend that he does not need to knock to come and see him, regardless of his new status, but Sam does not allow him the chance to speak.
“There is a girl, Jon! A girl at the gates of Castle Black! The brothers there, well- Gods only know what they’ll do to her if left unchecked!”
Instantly, Jon stands to his feet, reaches for his fur cloak and storms out of his quarters, wrapping it around his shoulders and clasping it as he marches down the stairs and out into the courtyard. There, several brothers have gathered in a crowded circle, surrounding some poor soul in the centre in eerie silence, staring eyes in every visible direction. 
“Seven hells, let her through!” Jon orders in a thunderous voice, parting the men until a path is formed. 
And there, standing in the middle of the shocked men, lacking the terror he expects and instead showing only a slightly nervous smile, is you.
Eyeing Jon up and down and sensing his authority, you breathe a sigh of relief. “Hello, are you the Lord Commander?”
Blinking rapidly, he nods, struggling to comprehend the boldness in your voice. “Aye, and who are you? What brings you to Castle Black?”
At that, you sigh. “Well, it’s not a very nice story, but an unfortunately common one these days. My village was raised to the ground by Ramsay Bolton for refusing to stand with him, and…I have nowhere else to go. My brother is here, you see, and I wanted to deliver the news to him myself, of our family. I understand it is against the rules of the wall for a girl to stay here, so I only wish to seek refuge until I can be directed somewhere safe to stay. My name is (Y/N)”
Again, you shock Jon with the way in which you recall the devastation that has led to your arrival. While he can see you have been upset by the events you describe, you have seemingly already come to terms with them enough to set your hopes on being reunited with your brother and then starting a new life somewhere else. A positive outlook like that is a rarity, in these parts especially, Jon thinks to himself.
“I’m sorry to hear of the loss of your village, we’d be more than happy to serve as your asylum. What is your brother’s name? If he’s not beyond the wall, I’ll take you to him myself, but if he is, you have my permission to stay until his return.” His promise to you is sincere, and the expressions on the surrounding men’s faces is enough to suggest he is going against tradition in his offer, but as a man before a brother of the Night’s Watch, Jon Snow cannot possibly turn you away. 
“Thank you, Lord Commander. My brother’s name is Gaius-”
One of the men earns a harsh frown from Jon as he interrupts you, but when the Lord Commander realizes the man was simply calling out your family name to confirm that he knew your brother and his whereabouts, the frown falls from Jon’s face. 
“Thank you, brother. Gaius is on watch, you say?” Jon clarifies, earning an “Aye” from within the crowd of men, before nodding and looking back to you. “Follow me, my Lady.”
Having a man as important as the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch refer to you with the formalities of someone highborn is enough to bring a bright smile to your face, but the fact that such a man has already shown you such kindness, too? You are certain that in the whispers you had heard in your village of Lord Commanders of old, none had been regarded as kind. 
Without a word, you follow the fur cloak and inky curls towards a man-operated mineshaft of some description, and when you look up to see just how high the contraption goes against the track built into the wall itself, your mouth falls open. Standing inside what looks, to you, like a large wooden crate, Jon Snow takes a moment to admire the expression of wonder on your face, again without fear. 
“My mother says the wall touches the sky and is the closest to the Gods most men will get!” You tell him, voice excitable as you hurry into the contraption and stand beside him. Realizing what you had said, your smile falters slightly. “Or, she used to say, I suppose.”
Jon’s eyes are full of sympathy as he looks down at you, watching as your eyes dart around every opening in the crate to see the world from new heights as the lift ascends. 
“I’m sorry for what, and who, you have lost.” His voice is quieter this time, less formal now that the two of you are without witnesses.
“It’s alright, I consider myself lucky to still have my brother when so many have nobody. Living on the wall must be such a lonely life, in that way. In a position like yours, I can't imagine how difficult it must be for you to stay if your family were in any kind of trouble. I’m sorry that this place forces that weight on you, and your brothers.” You meet his eyes, and Jon cannot believe that he sees his own sympathy for you reflected in your eyes for him, without you knowing anything of him or the hardships he has faced. 
“Thank you, but it is part of the Oath that every brother of the watch must take, it’s something that we agree to.” Jon explains, and you shrug.
“Doesn’t mean it hurts any less when that gets tested, though, I’m sure.” 
Jon breaks eye contact with you to stare straight ahead. “Aye.”
For a moment, he loses himself to thoughts of what he has lost, what he doesn’t know for certain if he has lost or not, due to his position here.
It doesn’t take you long to break the silence and pull him back to the present. “What’s your name, Lord Commander?”
“Jon Snow.” He answers.
“And does the wall touch the sky, Jon Snow?” You ask him, bringing the first chuckle from his lips that he has heard in a time he truly can't remember. 
“No, my Lady, I’m afraid it does not.” 
Feeling victorious in your mission to bring a smile to the stoic man’s face, you can’t help grinning. “That’s a shame. Still, I bet the world’s pretty from up there, and I’ve never seen the other side before! What’s it like?”
He hates to admit it, but the genuine curiosity that laces your excited words is melting the layer of ice that’s formed around his heart in the years he has spent living a life as cold and harsh as this. 
“You’ll see soon enough.” Jon tries his best to hold onto some kind of professional composure, but the smile you’ve brought him simply will not leave as long as you are still standing at his side.
To his absolute astonishment, you nudge him playfully. You, a stranger, a woman from a village he doesn’t know, having known him no more than ten minutes, have playfully nudged the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, like he’s no more than a childhood friend to you.
“Oh, c’mon, you’re really not going to tell me anything? You’re going to make me wait until we get to the top? Don’t be a bore, give me something to picture before we get there!”
And he’s laughing again. Jon Snow is really, properly laughing and shaking his head in utter disbelief at the existence of you, wondering where such a jewel has been hiding all this time and how the sun hasn’t caught sight of you to create a shining trail that would have guided him straight to you before today. 
“It’s snow and ice and trees, as far as the eye can see; there really is not much more to report, I’m afraid.”
Scoffing, roll your eyes. “That’s incredibly underwhelming. Perhaps the best view to be seen from the wall will continue to be the pretty face of Lord Commander Jon Snow?”
By the time you’ve asked your rhetorical question, the elevator has reached the top of the wall, and you are already stepping out of it, looking over your shoulder at the man you have just frozen in place with a bright smile.
“You can't take a wife, I know, but who’s to say a girl can’t flirt with you every now and then?” 
And Jon Snow can’t speak. In all his years, he has never known himself to become so flustered as to lose all memory of every word he has ever known. He is a man, the Lord Commander of the brotherhood that protects the realms of men, and you have reduced him to a blushing, bashful boy. Seven hells. Giggling to yourself and the impact you have clearly had on him, you walk over to the closest edge of the wall and peer over the other side, gasping quietly at the sight of a world you’d never seen before, and then the world you’d always known on the side you came from, but never thought you’d see from a bird’s eye view.
The rest of the men on watch have all ceased their conversations in shocked silence at the vision of an actual, real woman at the top of the wall. At first, they consider the possibility of whether you are no more than a mirage, but upon realizing they are all staring in the same direction, conclude you really are in front of them. Their stares do not seem to phase you, but Jon Snow does not appreciate the looks some of them are giving you. 
Stepping out of the elevator, he frowns at them. “Keep your eyes beyond the wall, men.”
One of them, a younger one who looks to be not much older than a boy, gulps nervously. “B-But, Lord Commander, that’s a-”
Jon interrupts him. “A woman, brother, not a giant. Focus your eyes on the danger you are here to watch for.” 
The young man nods frantically, turning hurriedly to look back at the same view beyond the wall that you are yet to tear your own gaze from. 
“Send for Gaius, tell him his sister is here!” Jon calls, deciding to summon your brother to you rather than lead you along the wall and increase the number of men that have gawked at you this evening, which is already far too high, in his opinion.
A couple of men set off along the wall in search of your brother, and as they go, Jon’s eyes gravitate back to you. With a soft smile on his face, he watches you dart from one side of the wall to the other, peering over both sides as if making a mental list of their differences for some unknown reason. Suddenly, you gasp again.
“Is that direwolf a member of the Night’s Watch?” 
Strolling over to stand at your side and peer down at the courtyard with you, Jon chuckles. “That’s Ghost, and I suppose he is, but he was with me before I came here.”
The expression on your face as you slowly turn to him is, no doubt, the most shocked he has seen you thus far. More surprised than you were when standing in the crowd of men on your arrival, and more in awe still than you were when you first looked over the wall.
“You have a direwolf? Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, prettiest man on the wall, has a direwolf?!” 
Approaching from behind you, three men return, one with a resemblance to you that the blushing Lord Commander does not miss as he glances over your shoulder. Having heard your remark, your brother rolls his eyes and groans in annoyance. 
“Gods, (Y/N), please do not flirt with him, of all the men here!” 
Jon watches the smile that reaches your eyes in acknowledging the sound of your brother’s voice, his heart fracturing in his chest when a sadness within you slowly fills your eyes. Turning to face your brother, Gaius reads your expression and frowns in concern, his previous humor gone.
Once in front of Gaius, you pull him down to hug you, and the sympathy Jon feels for you as your brother clutches onto you, the heartbreaking news of the village you had both grown up in having been destroyed in its entirety, your family going up in the flames, too, reaching your brother’s ears, is enough to bring a physical ache to the Lord Commander’s chest. Leaving you to a private moment with the only family you have left, Jon passes you both to receive updates from the men on watch of anything they may have seen while on duty. He knows that if there was anything to report, he would have been informed of it already, but keeping their attention on him distracts them from the conversation between yourself and your brother, and means Jon himself does not have to focus his full attention on listening to them in his current state of worrying for your wellbeing. 
After a few minutes, Jon returns to the two of you, seeing you have broken from your embrace and are instead wiping your brother’s tears, though none fall from your eyes, Jon notices. 
“Gaius, you are relieved of your duties tonight. Please, take all the time you need.” 
Sniffling, your brother nods gratefully. “Thank you, Lord Commander.”
Nodding along with him, you send Jon a meaningful glance and then return to the lift, an arm around your brother’s middle to guide him in his dazed state. 
With sorrowful eyes that lock with yours, Jon watches the two of you descend the wall until you disappear from his line of sight. 
For the rest of the evening, Jon Snow busies himself with as much as he can before the obligation to return to the parchment he has allowed himself to be distracted from begins to suffocate him. The only thing that had truly been able to distract him has, very predictably, been you, but not in the way he had anticipated. Naturally, he loses himself to thoughts of your smile, the things you’d said, how he’d felt when you were close. But more than that, Jon Snow found himself missing you the moment he could no longer see you. The positivity that you radiate everywhere you go, the kindness and lighthearted nature with which you carry yourself, every aspect of you that he knows so far is addictive in a way that he simply can’t explain. The longer he is away from you, the more certain he becomes that some part of him has been missing you through every event of his life thus far, he just didn’t know that it was you he had been missing until today.
Expecting to return to the less entertaining parts of his duty, he trudges back to the Lord Comander’s office, which he must now regard as his own. Upon reaching the door, however, he finds you petting Ghost’s head and smiling down at him. 
“I see you’ve made fast friends.” Jon greets you with a soft voice, heart already dancing in his chest at the sight of you.
The smile you had previously been giving Ghost moves to Jon and brightens. “Definitely! The news tired my brother out, naturally, so I thought it best to send him to bed and then come and wait here for you. Ghost beat me to it, so you’d best see to whatever he needs, first.”
Jon chuckles. “He’s just looking for somewhere warm to rest for the night, I expect.” Pushing open the door to his office, he is proven correct as Ghost pads over to a large rug on the ground and immediately curls up there, causing both you and Jon to laugh quietly. “What can I do for you, (Y/N)?” Jon asks, gesturing for you to head into his office first, assuring you that despite the reputation of some of the men that have been sent here, chivalry will not die as long as Jon Snow lives. 
Stepping inside, he closes the door behind you and offers you a comfortable armchair, while he sits on a rickety wooden chair behind his desk, quickly pushing the rolls of parchment aside to clasp his hands on the table and give you a small smile. 
“Much like Ghost, I was looking for somewhere warm to curl up for the night, as I dont think it’s a good idea for me to try and sleep in a room with any of the men here. I mean no disrespect, but based on the looks they’ve been giving me, I take it most have forgotten how to act when a woman is around.” Despite the airy chuckle that passes your lips, Jon sees it then, the slight nervousness in your eyes as you glance at the door, as though worried a man could burst through at any moment, but not at all afraid to be in this room with him.
Frowning, Jon nods. “I understand, but please trust me when I say I will not let any of the men here close enough to harm you. For the duration of your stay, it would be best if you were never without the company of your brother, myself, or Ghost, to ensure your safety.”
The offer of spending more time with the kind Commander is enough to bring a sparkle back to your eyes. “Thank you, I appreciate that a lot.”
Jon shakes his head, dismissing your gratitude. “And to the matter of your sleeping arrangements-”
You interject. “If you have a spare blanket, I’d be more than happy to stay in this chair, it’s actually very comfortable!”
Appreciating your humble offer, but disregarding it entirely, Jon shakes his head again. “No guest here will ever sleep in a chair, not on my watch.”
At that, you can't help snorting. “Pun intended?”
As silly as it is, Jon finds himself laughing with you. “Aye.” He clears his throat. “I think you would be safest sleeping in my quarters.” When Jon sees your eyes widen, he fumbles for more words. “I mean to say that I will sleep elsewhere, perhaps that chair, or another room- the men will not disturb my private chambers, so you will be safest there.”
Settling into a somewhat relieved and somewhat disappointed expression, you nod at him. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you, but I won’t ask you to find other sleeping arrangements. If there is any way for you to still be in your chambers, I would feel safer knowing you were close by, if anything were to happen.” 
Touched by the trust you are already showing him, Jon holds your gaze and nods. “Of course. As long as you are not at all uncomfortable with the idea-”
“I’m not.” You answer, perhaps a little too quickly, making Jon laugh bashfully. 
“Good, I’m glad. We’ll need to provide you with clean clothes while you are with us, but I’m sorry to say women’s clothes are not kept here.” 
You shrug. “It’ll be a testament to my appeal if I still draw as much attention when dressed as a man, I suppose.” 
Holding his tongue, Jon resists the urge to immediately tell you that he has no doubt you will, especially in his eyes, because he is already certain he would be able to pick your smile out amongst any number of others, no matter what clothes you were wearing. Instead, he chooses to keep such thoughts to himself and the rising tension within him forces him to his feet from behind his desk, Ghost immediately standing to attention, too.
“I’ll see to fetching some more clothes for you now, Ghost will show you to my chambers for the night.” With that, Jon Snow speeds out of the room and takes some deep breaths of ice cold, northern air. Beginning a brisk march to the storage room where linens and clothes are kept, his heart pounds in his chest in a way that he has never felt it do before, in a way that Jon did not think possible. 
Before today, before your smile, it had been locked away in a thick icy wall of its own, and he had been foolish enough to believe it to be impenetrable. How can you possibly have melted it, in its entirety, already? And why is Jon Snow so exhilarated at the thought of such a terrifying thing?
Still seated in the armchair you had been left in, you fan yourself with your hand and laugh to yourself in disbelief, your face flushing hot as you replay the conversation you’d just had with the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. In truth, it takes you a few minutes to regain strength enough to stand, and when you do, you tilt your head at Ghost, who tilts his head right back at you, mimicking you.
“We’d best keep my reaction just then between us, what do you think?” You ask him, and Ghost huffs in reply, agreeing to keep your secret in his own way.
Having formed a truce, Ghost walks you through the open door and begins to lead you to the Lord Commander’s chambers. 
Regardless of being told to come here, letting yourself into someone else’s private place of rest feels intrusive. When Ghost paws at the door, though, you feel he has granted your passage in a way that you cannot refuse. Ghost strolls in like he is the one that owns these chambers, and you start to think that perhaps he does as he curls up on the floor at the end of the bed on the other side of the room. Making sure you close the door behind you and light the candle closest to you on entry, you take in your surroundings, not seeing very much to suggest that this place has been truly lived in by Jon Snow and using that to form the conclusion that he has not been Lord Commander for long enough to have spent very much time here. Still, sitting down on the bed that you know to be his, the soft scent of him brings the smallest smile to your face, remembering when you had been at his side while ascending the wall, close enough for it to be impossible for you to miss his earthy scent, mixed with a little sweat and old soap. With hair like his, you are certain he must take care to wash at every opportunity. 
A gentle knock at the door makes you jump out of your skin.
“Come in!” You call, feeling just as ridiculous as Jon does from the other side of the door, having just knocked to request entry to his own chambers.
Far more calm now, Jon steps into the room with a folded pile of clothes in his arms. He spent an embarrassing amount of time sifting through the spare clothes to find as many soft fabrics as he could, rather than giving you any of the aged, scratchy items, and that is a fact he will take to the grave. 
Placing them at the foot of his bed, the sight of you sitting on it makes him smile, hoping you have begun to settle in. 
“Thank you.” 
He shakes his head. “There’s no need to thank me, I hope they are comfortable.” 
Rolling your eyes playfully at his concern, you grin up at him. “As long as they’re warm, I won’t complain about a thing. Where will you sleep?”
Evidently, in all his preparation for collecting the biggest pile of softest clothes he could find, Jon had neglected to think about that very question. Scratching the back of his neck, he glances around the room as you had, like the place is so unfamiliar he may not have registered there was another bed, or chair, to sleep on, but unfortunately chambers are solely meant for sleeping, and the Lord Commander’s only includes one bed. 
“I will sleep on the floor.” Jon concludes confidently, knowing his back will not thank him for such an offer, but his gentlemanly nature will not allow him to consider any other option.
Immediately, you shake your head. “Absolutely not. I trust you enough to not jump on me, and there is plenty of room for us both in this bed.”
Jon’s eyes are wide as he ponders the mere possibility of sharing a bed with a woman. 
Before he can protest, you give him a warm smile to reassure him. “I swear, I don’t mind.”
Swallowing a fear he is certain is worse than facing a white walker, Jon Snow nods, silently agreeing with you. 
“Let’s get to sleep, then. I expect you have to wake early.” You assume, and Jon nods again, having once again lost the ability to speak as he rounds the other side of the bed and sits down with his back to yours.
Heartbeat ringing in his ears, Jon watches your shadow in the candlelight on the wall in front of him as you raise your arms and begin to strip down to your underclothes, giving him the clarity that he needs to know it is alright for him to do the same. The still rising tension is enough to tell you that neither of you will be able to stand sleeping fully clothed, let alone when your bodies are as close as they will have to be under the furs of the bed. Deliberately taking as long as he can to unbutton his undershirt, Jon waits to hear you shuffle under the bedcovers before he tosses his undershirt to the ground and does the same, granting you a momentary view of the bare skin of his back for a few glorious seconds before his head falls against the pillow beside yours. 
Several seconds pass in a painfully slow eternity, before you roll over to face Jon, and he glances down at you. 
“Rather than letting this continue to be horrifically awkward, let’s treat this as a cozy opportunity to get to know each other, hmm?” You suggest, and Jon breathes a sigh of relief, turning on his side to face you, foreheads mere inches apart as he stares into your eyes, your expressions barely visible in the dim candlelight. 
“How do you always find a way to see things so positively?” He asks you, unable to withhold the question that he’s been wondering from the moment you arrived. 
“Finding the happiness in something that someone else can’t quite see at the time, makes me happy.” You shrug beneath the furs, like what you’ve just said isn’t one of the most profoundly kind things that Jon Snow has ever heard. “My turn to ask a question!” Jon nods, not bothering to even try and hide the smile on his face at your excitement. “How has such a kindhearted and pretty faced man landed the position of Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch?”
Jon chuckles lightly, cheeks blooming pink. “How many times have you called me that today?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Lord Commander, or pretty?”
Scoffing, Jon rolls his eyes playfully. “You know which.”
The giggle that escapes you makes his heart splutter in his chest. “You can ask me that when it’s your turn to ask a question. For now, you must answer mine, those are the rules.”
Jon sighs, feigning dramatics. “I yield. I’m Lord Commander because Sam put me forward for it and Maester Aemon casted the deciding vote in my favor.”
It’s your turn to roll your eyes now, trying not to notice the bare arms that Jon lifts from the furs to cross in front of him. “I didn’t ask how the voting system worked, I asked how someone as kind as you won such a vote!”
At that, Jon Snow gives you a cheeky grin. “You’ll have to make the question more clear when it’s your turn again.” Your jaw drops theatrically, and with a smug tone that you’ve never found more attractive in your life, he continues. “So, go on, how many times?”
Without delay, you answer. “I’ve said it three times, but the amount I’ve thought it is not yet possible to count.”
Jon releases a hearty, bashful laugh at that. “Why’s that?”
And then you throw a cheeky grin right back at him. “Still some hours left in the day, plenty more time for me to think it every few minutes.”
Inching closer to you still, Jon feels his heart hammering against his chest. “Every few minutes?”
Eyes glazing over in a way that has him swallowing nervously, you smile up at him. “Or, more accurately, every few seconds.”
Jon’s eyes dart from your own to your lips. “Where have you been all this time?”
Holding his heated gaze, you answer without needing time to think about it. “Waiting for you.”
Jon’s stomach flips, something it’s only ever done before in moments of true shock or fear, which this, in itself, obviously is, but in a way that he has never known before. “You know, I cannot take a wife.”
Shrugging, you scrunch your nose playfully, voice barely above a whisper now. “A forbidden and secret romance always sounded more fun, anyway.”
And as if that final demonstration of your incredible ability to spin any kind of inconvenience into something astoundingly positive isn’t enough to pull a genuine groan from Jon, he sees your eyes glance from his to his lips and linger there, and he needs no further indication from you. Leaning in, he captures your top lip between his own in a kiss that is as passionate as it is gentle, not wanting to alarm you and giving you the space to pull away if it please you, but when you raise a hand from beneath the furs to drag your fingers through the curls you’ve been desperate to feel since the moment you laid eyes on him, and push your body flush against his, Jon Snow loses every ounce of strength and resistance he has in favor of instinctual, near animalistic desire for you. Crawling over you, your hands grab at the toned muscles of his arms, gasping against his lips and allowing him entry to a land he’s never explored before, but is certain he will become a master of soon enough.
Needless to say, a song of sunshine and snow is one of heartwarming tenderness, in the same way that it is a tale of a love so all encompassing and completely overwhelming, neither party stood a chance.
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taglist: @otteropera @neymarjrrwife @oliviabelova
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fantasydreamland · 6 months ago
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Where did I get such high expectations of men?
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I have no idea…
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rise-my-angel · 1 year ago
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Heart of the Great Wolf
18 - Afraid of a Ravens Flight
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Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)
Length: 10.8k
Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, references to rape and abusive relationship, discussions of implied sexual context, canon divergence, strained familial dynamics
Notes: We start going gradually exploring new sights in not too long, so brace yourself. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.
Jon truly couldn’t tell if he wanted to talk about it or not. Spent so long lying about what it was, lying to himself, lying to her, lying to all of them until he woke from a delirious dream back in the beds of Castle Black did he realize he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie about loving Ygritte when he woke from such a horror stricken vision of you pale and dead in your own blood, and to make it all the worse? Sam coming to him to say that not only was that dream real, but just beyond what he couldn’t see then, was Robb as dead as you were.
For a while, he did think he convinced himself what he was feeling was want. He had lied so much he manipulated his own mind into thinking it was true. Seeing her as someone she wasn’t, when in truth so much was spent as he watched himself teetering on mistrust, her teasing him with a mean kind of playfulness that he didn’t like. But she was aggressive and bold, and not liking her meant finding himself on the other end of her own blood thirst.
Jon never felt like he had to walk on eggshells around you. He wasn’t combative with you, he never had been and he hated the idea of speaking to you the way Ygritte would him. As if the threats of violence were supposed to be cute. Strangely his time with Ygritte reminded him more of the dynamic he knew you once shared with Theon.
Always bantering, Theon would make sexual advances in jest but the two of you would play at a battle of wit to see who could knock the other down a peg the most as a game. Jon had tried to ask him subtly once if Theon was truly attracted to you and the man had laughed. Sensing no ulterior, he just shook his head and told him “Just because a girl’s pretty enough to fuck, doesn’t mean I want her in my bed, Snow. Only means I have eyes that work.”
Ygritte was pretty, and at times there was simple genuine amusement in her banter but more often then not it was nothing like that. The small moments build into lies about who she was until Jon made the wrong call. Tried to play off of what he knew she felt for him and it got him shot full of arrows for it, and if he were to be honest, all lies died then. She didn’t kill him, but love in Jon’s eyes would never be anything to hurt the other.
There was no scenario which would ever lead to Jon harming you like that, and he certainly knew there was none that would ever have led to Robb harming you like that either. Real love hurts in the heart, not in blood.
Jon had heard Olly’s story, the details of the redheaded wildling and it wasn’t until that night as he watched the arrows flying into her back be shot from that same boy did he realize the monstrous actions she did. That was not an Ygritte Jon knew, nor did he want to. If it were love, Jon would’ve taken the time. Held her, brought her body to the North beyond the wall to burn her like a lover deserved, but he didn’t. He let the men drag her into the piles of the rest and spend the rest of his time being called a wildling lover with no bravery to tell any or even himself, that he never wanted what she took from him.
Things now though, weren’t quite as easy as he had wished. Seeing you, in person, right in front of him as your fingers gently traced along the scars on his chest had made him snap. Like he was set on fire and the only way he could be put out was you, in your taste, your kiss, and as Jon finally slid inside of you for the first time he knew he was consumed for life. But then you pulled away. Struggled to look at him, and walked around with something so lost and broken that he was terrified it was him.
That your moans and pleas were only a response because of how it felt, but Jon knew that if he didn’t want it when it felt good with Ygritte, he may have just forced the same onto you. Forced something onto you after what Ramsay had already done with much more blood and violence. But then you said something that bothered him more then anything else so far.
That you would have wanted all of it with Jon all over again, but refused in the thoughts you being here was ruining his life. That, he truly hated. Hated that something inside you said that you shouldn’t be here with him, like he didn’t spend his old life in love with you, and his new life desperate for you to let him be addicted to you.
As Jon looked out to the night, much of that evening he spent with the one person who treated him no different. Edd could sense that the time was approaching that Jon would leave and no one would have any protest to it, that he believed in him as a friend and a leader and having you show up with new life and bring it to him as well? Edd felt that maybe he was just supposed to go back to the North he grew up in, and find himself as a leader there, that maybe he was just supposed to do so. And you were a sign to “get your ass moving” as the man put it.
Jon thought of Robb often, he thought of all his siblings often but it was he and Arya that struck him the most. The ones that his world felt a bit more cold and lonely without. Would Robb hate him for what he was doing? Hate that in Jon’s first true reunion with you, he spent over half the night with either his mouth or his cock buried between your legs? That he wanted to do it again and again and all he could see was you and how much he wanted to be inside you?
Was his need for the woman Jon always loved now a great offence to the brother who passed? Yet on the other end, Jon had a very distinct feeling what Arya’s response would be. The word dumb or idiot surely would be in there somewhere as she would scold him for always pushing everything away that would make him happy. Arya knew about you both in those innocent days, not that he ever told you.
Suspected it with her endearingly keen eye and caught you both in secret thinking you were alone in the stables one day. It was only a kiss she saw, but did Arya ever come barging into his room later calling him dumb for not telling her. But now that there was nothing in the way of the way you both felt for each other, his little sister no doubt would have taken it upon herself to force you both to talk.
But she wasn’t, and Jon wouldn’t force you to talk. He knew how gentle things should be taken with you right now, and he would never do anything to harm you regardless of how much he wanted you both to talk. Heavy in his heart, the little princess knew it too.
That talk they shared that day, how instantly she caught the lie saying he was only your friend and that the only person she felt she could go to and be honest about how much losing you hurt was Jon? That wasn’t fair. Shireen didn’t deserve to find comfort only in what was essentially a stranger to her, and yet throughout her time there he always felt her curious eyes watching. Would sit on the steps and watch him train the others, the last connection to the only sister she lost, in him.
Just how much death and bloodshed weighed on your mind? How much of that death kept you from letting Jon go to you. That moment in his office, he wanted so desperately to tell you it all. That you were the one thing that could keep him here on earth, and that you both experienced a violence that none other would understand. Both had died, and both were brought back and Jon knew it was you who was his reason. Didn’t know how or why, but it was you. He wanted to tell you his new life would mean nothing if you weren’t in it, but he didn’t. Not right now.
An utter mess that brought you back to him, and Jon wanted to make it better. But there was only more violence approaching, the most urging one to come from his once home and the people who butchered his family. A violence that Jon knew he couldn’t stand back and ignore any longer.
Yet as a large figure came to lean against the railing beside him, it did strike Jon somewhat amusingly that so much of what started as a tempered, untrusting dynamic full of threats of death had turned into a trusting friendship. Tormund didn’t hold back his thoughts, and never pulled punches which truthfully Jon desperately needed in his life.
“They think you’re some kind of god.” Gesturing across the way to where many both his men and the free folk would find their gazes onto Jon with reverence. There was nothing he could do to stop it, but being looked at in such a way didn’t feel normal.
Grimacing a slight bit, Jon’s voice was low. “I don’t think a real god would hate being called one this much.” Tormund chuckled beside him as Jon felt a small one of his own slip as well. “I died, and somehow I came back, and no idea why or how. But that doesn’t make me a god, just makes me tired.”
Humming, the man looked at his friend with a curious gaze before relenting. “I can tell you, you only came back because your pretty crow brought you back.” Jon stiffened, his gloved hands gripping the railing a bit too tightly as his jaw clenched. “Can’t tell you why, but I do know she showed up and next thing we know you’re by her side a whole lot less dead then when she got here. Your crows all say she died too.”
His eyes slipped shut as he exhaled roughly, giving it away to Tormund instantly. Grey eyes opening to train harshly on the door he knew you were in, like a man possessed to always keep an eye on you. It was quiet for a moment, but he had been honest about you to him before he died and there was no reason to keep this as well.
Jon and Tormund both knew what they’d seen at Hardhome and dreams and visions were child's play to that. “I used to dream about her. With my brother, south fighting a war, I just kept seeing her and they all kept coming true. Until..I finally got back here and I dreamt about her dying in a pool of her own blood and when I woke up they told me she was dead, my brother was dead and everything they fought for.”
It made him sick, thinking that Robb’s last moments were forced to watch that. “Maybe they were trying to tell you to find her before it happened.”
He considered that, that he was seeing you as a way to try and make him to find you before what happened, happened but he couldn’t focus on that. It did, and then it happened to him too. “And now? What are they telling me to do now?”
Tormund leaned closer to him, voice more a too loud whisper. “For one, they’d probably say that the little crow is wasting his time trapping himself here in this shit hole instead of fighting for what he actually wants.”
Just as Jon opened his mouth, his eyes whipped over cross the way. Watching you leave your mother’s quarters with an exhausted look in your eye and much to Jon’s irritation, his cock stirred at the sight of you still wearing his fur cloak keeping you warm. All the worse as for the entire time his eyes followed your person, a dark smugness fell across his face when you relented, and made your way to Jon’s own quarters rather then yours.
Tormund however, leaned even closer with an amused grin behind his wild beard. “Also that if you don’t take her for yourself now that she’s here, someone else just may.”
Jon was torn between amusement and slight anger, but the grin on his companions face told him that was the intention anyways. Face falling flat he turned away to the yard again. “It’s not like that down here. You can’t just take what you want, especially if only one of you wants it.”
Shaking his head, Jon wondered how much the man was catching from his vauge words. A wonder of how much did he realize Jon was far less wanting of the red head then Tormund presumed. But something seemed to connect enough. “I’m not telling you to take her like some dog, little crow. I’m telling you if you can fight for what’s right, you can fight for her.” Tone shifting to more mocking and light, “Or maybe I’ll just have to show her how giant a Giantsbane is, if you’re going to leave her be.”
Now that was purposely just trying to rile Jon up, which absolutely worked. Pushing off the rails as he glared at the larger man, “She’s been through enough. Don’t push it.”
Tormund truly was trying to guide Jon into something, and then kept pushing him further into taking the bait. “I wonder, is all of you so small, crow? That why you’re letting her walk around your camp full of men all alone? Can’t compete?”
Nothing but amused as Jon leaned in, a sprinkle of jestful competition in his grey eyes to match. “Trust me, she knows first hand there’s more then enough of me for her to handle.”
“Then go remind her, before I show her better.”
The man knew just where to poke at the most possessive parts of Jon to rile him up over you, but later as Jon walked into the dark quiet of his quarters? That burning desire simmered down at the gentle sight of you asleep in his bed. He never really had that. Never risked falling asleep so freely in the other’s bed risk of someone finding you in that castle of many who burst into doors unannounced.
Left only in his breeches, Jon slowly slid in behind you. His heart heavy as he pulled the hair out of your face gently to the side. A hand running smoothly along your upper arm as he looked down at you before sliding it just under your breasts to tug your back into his chest.
And when you gave the smallest of slumbering sighs, and moved to fit better with his own arms already around you, Jon found no other explanation to why he was still here then to fight for what he loved, and that was undoubtedly including you.
It was a gamble, but one that you knew had to be taken. The longer you waited, the more time to rally forces the Bolton’s had and the risk of losing too many allies would grow. Having to choose a place to start and this felt like the closest to what could be an easy ally. You sat at your fathers desk, Theon across from you ink to the parchment and Davos to your side.
Your eyes on maps, Davos helping dictate the best course of words to display in such a strange pledge of cause. You had been leaning over, running along the marks you were making trying to plan around what would be the quickest and least obtrusive path. You were only a Stark in marriage, but you were trying to rise against the House that murdered their King. To deny such a plea from where you sat was going to be a fight for some you knew, but denying the whispers of what could be a lie about their dead Queen would be much harder if you stood at their gates. With whatever small numbers you even had at your side.
The door to your father’s quarters had been slightly open and the cold ran steadily over your minimal layers with nothing thick to protect from the wind. Footsteps trickled in, but more then one pair had done so in and out during the course of the day and you simply ignored it for the most part. Theon’s voice reading out parts as he wrote them in bits, “...from my beloved father-”
Your eyes whipped up Theon, brows slightly confused before narrowing in dismissal. “He wasn’t my beloved father. We were at war, he thought I was a traitor. I didn’t love him, he didn’t love me.”
None of the eyes passed judgment, certainly not the ones who had met the man but it was the understanding from Davos who tried to speak up. Beyond what he knew first hand was a truly broken relationship. “A harmless courtesy, your grace.”
Your face twisted almost innocently in incredulity, not looking up from the papers enough to catch faces but for them to see how casual yours felt. Easy dismissal on your lips before looking back down to the papers. “A lie. Take it out.”
Theon scratching at the words before continuing on, your mind focused on the best way to approach full well knowing those left may not be the ones you fought beside. The figure that entered watched silently, leaning against the wall at the sight, watching Theon continue on in what he knew would have to be rewritten anyways.
More scramblings, and more dictating what Theon and Ser Davos had come up with before you glanced up to them once more with a little less sharpness in your tone. “...Make sure it’s written as Lord Roose Bolton. Whatever he’s done, the man is still a Lord.”
A look shared between Ser Davos and the curiously silent watching Jon shared a tinge of amusement between them. Like looking at a younger, female vision of Stannis Baratheon it felt like sometimes with you. Proper, but not bothering with a fake courtesy that was not deserved. “We should send for House Manderly as well.”
Theon looking up with narrowed eyes, “Haven’t they declared for the Boltons?”
You nodded, without looking up still. Much was planning war and battle sent looking at papers and numbers until your eyes threatening to fall out was what you had forgotten was such an irritatingly large part of leading. “They have, but I’m suspicious of their loyalty. Lord Wyman has nothing to gain from siding with them and if we swing his support we cut off Roose’s access to their resources.” Pausing, you narrowed your eyes to nothing before adding, “Send for the Umber’s as well. Only half their men have sided with the Boltons, the rest might be willing to listen to us.”
Having worked hard to keep up with the workings of Northern houses, Ser Davos put for a suggestion that to be fair, neither man had any reason to think was a conflicted one. “The Karstark’s haven’t declared for them either we should reach out to them.”
Your hand paused moving in mid air, your eyes rising up in a palpable tension as you glanced to Ser Davos, only noticing then as you saw Jon lean against the wall some way behind Theon before you swallowed harshly before letting the steel grace back over you. “I didn’t exactly part ways with them on good terms. I’m not quite sure Harald Karstark will have it in his heart to forgive me just yet.”
No one asked, but they moved on and you ignored the ever present eyes of Jon watching you as debates ran back and forth over who to approach, and where to move to get there. Theon finally circling the discussions back around to where you had begun your plannings. “We need to start somewhere that we know we can win. We show up with what, the three of us and a maybe few guards if we’re lucky, and any house that would side with the Bolton’s will have us trapped before we get two words out.”
You looked over everything, and the few promising house would be harder to get to get to safely in such small numbers for what you were to ask. You knew one that would say yes, if your friendship with them was to still be trusted even after all this time, even if they were gone too. But it was getting there with so few of you was the stop.
Before you could hesitate to say it, Jon said it for you. “We should sail for Bear Island. Pledge House Mormont to our fight, and we already have a stronger ally then the Bolton’s have on their side.”
All eyes looking up to his sure and confident ones, your voice was the softest to speak. “Our fight?”
Sharing a glance with Ser Davos, an understanding was between them. A talk that seemed so long ago, but finally at least one man was going to be there to see it finally come to fruition. Jon met your own eyes after a moment, and you could only hope that the lightness in your heart wasn’t so childishly hopeful in your actual gaze towards him.
But he spoke true, and he spoke with the determination of someone who had clearly been spending a long time mulling over this choice. “I’m only lying to myself if I act as if I was brought back to keep shutting myself away here, where my fight doesn’t reach beyond these walls.” You felt heavy, and he needed to know if this was his choice but you saw a leader in those eyes. One that you hadn’t seen such a conviction in, in many before like him. “The North is my home. It’s part of me, and I need to be the one to fight for it.”
If Jon was going to do this, he needed to know and it needed to be now. Looking to Theon and Ser Davos your voice was restrained but a bit rough trying to keep calm. “Would you two give us a moment alone?”
Watching closely, you followed them to the door as Jon walked further inside. Theon only getting far enough for you to tell him to hold off of drafting the rest of the letters until you had everything finalized. But it was really, just one thing you needed to be sure of.
Gently closing the door, you stood staying faced to it with your heart racing. For two night’s now you had found yourself falling asleep in Jon’s bed, in his arms and neither of you had broached the topic beyond those quiet moments of peace in the dark. First morning he was up and gone before you, and this morning had been your turn to leave first.
It was a solace in this turmoil that you were petrified you were about to lose before even understanding what it meant. Looking back with a stilted expression, and something far away in your eyes you didn’t move any closer to him. Jon now looking over your own work, hands tapping at the desk before looking back up to you. “It’s not just me.”
Your face morphed into a confusion as he braced his palms over the top of your chair to elaborate, nodding out to the window. “Most of the free folk here came from Hardhome. Your father lent me his ships so I could sail with Tormund and bring them all here. Told them I’d allow them south of the wall and if they wanted, find them land to actually live on for themselves.”
Not for a second did you show any doubt or lack of understanding, it wouldn’t have been an easy decision but something in your once dreams of cold and ice had you pausing. Not just the goodness of his heart did such a thing come about.
“The North has never had an easy relationship with the free folk. But I knew leaving them beyond the wall to die would just be me acting like a coward.” There was something in a toned down anger in his face, in his voice no doubt from how much issue that choice brought him. But then it was haunting. A darkness so far away in Jon’s eyes that was of horrors beyond most peoples comprehension swirling inside them. “I’ve seen them.”
You knew what their fight here was turning into, but as you looked at him, your mind remembered a dream. One that started as a memory in the rainy woods of Winterfell and ended with a towering figure of freezing cold with eyes so blue they that of another world. The ice, the cries, the bodies spread out in pieces your nightmares were his reality.
“The first time I was beyond the wall. I saw a father take his infant son out into the woods, saw him leave him there in the snow..and..” Jon’s gaze flew back up to you as the dreams played behind your own eyes.
“You saw them take it. You saw one of them take the baby away.” Jon trying to ask how you knew but you were far ahead of that. “I saw it...or...I saw it through you...” Pacing forward you leaned against the wall to the side, something far and disturbed in your own eyes to match. “I used to dream about it, about the cold and ice..and I dreamt about something with blue eyes taking a crying baby away in the woods.”
It was a looming fear trying to understand what you had been seeing, but it wasn’t just a creature or a nightmare. It wasn’t the dead, it wasn’t a monster you made up. It was them. You had seen the Others because Jon had seen them and your blood ran as cold as those dreams did.
“Jon..what happened at Hardhome?”
You had dreamt of blue eyes beside a mass of standing corpses beside him in the captives of the Boltons. Jon pushed himself up, running a hand over his mouth as he circled around closer to you as he leaned back against the desk. “There were so many of them, not just the dead but..more of them then I ever thought. We got out what we could, a good amount of the free folk, but one of them looked right at me and just like that...every single one of the dead stood up beside them.” Your name slipped roughly from his lips, beckoning you to look up at him properly. “Whatever brought you and me back, this was nothing like that. When they find a way to get beyond the wall, and we aren’t ready for it-”
Your voice was barley audible were the room not so painfully silent, and Jon standing as close as he was. “If we can’t protect the North from each other, then we have no chance against them...” If the North couldn’t stand together then there was nothing to fight them back from the rest of the realm at all.
The quiet between you was thick and it was full of something more chilling then the mere wind out that door. “We start with the Mormonts. The free folk at our side should be enough to help us get there, and we start finding a way to unite the North again, together.” He was so sure of himself, and yet you were so instantly on edge.
He almost reached out to you, but the hesitation in your own eyes caught him. He murmured your name but you turned away. Running a hand over your forehead firmly before sighing out. Stood just in the middle of the room, your arms crossing over your chest almost protectively as there was a worry in your eyes.
“I...I don’t- fuck.” Fidgeting on the spot you struggled to find the words, this wasn’t how this was ever to play out that night you first heard Robb propose it. Your face fell almost like a plead, “I’m not saying this to manipulate you, or force you into anything I truly promise but you- I cannot let you do this blind. I know, and so does every lord we go to for this, and you shouldn’t find out from them.”
It made sense then, and still did now but you also knew part of planning for this included you being just as dead and gone as Robb as the likely scenario. You didn’t foresee yourself being the one to say it.
Whatever it was Jon was bracing himself for, you knew instantly by the stunned expression in his face, his guess was nowhere near this. “Robb named you as his heir to the North.” You felt your own heart race and the exponential fear of Jon hating you for this broke your calm trying to justify yourself. But if he hated you already, you weren’t sure anything would fix it. “The Lannisters were desperate, we won every battle we fought, we were winning the war and they knew they couldn’t beat us in the field. Tywin Lannister started making moves and we knew he was planning something, and Robb needed to name someone as his heir, to be King in the North after him in case...”
You looked away, trying not to see the blood and the fire. Your voice cracking before forcing it back to something you could swallow. “And he named you. He wanted it to be you.”
Once more, you were struggling to find anything in Jon you could read easily as he stood as still as a statue. His voice rough and quiet in disbelief, “But you were..”
Blood soaking his hand as he looked up to you, a broken expression you had never seen and it would be the last one ever. “Even if..it would have been eighteen years before he came of age regardless...but we also knew, we thought,” you corrected yourself, “If something happened to Robb, it would happen to me too. You were the first person he named, and out of every other option that came to mind Robb never trusted the North to anyone as much as he did you.”
Eyes a little less wide in shock, but he was still as a statue more. Whatever he thought he felt hearing Stannis Baratheon offering him a true name and lordship was nothing compared to the brother who had everything he ever wanted, leaving the most important thing trusted in no one but Jon’s own hands. “Did...who agreed to it?”
You almost could smile in a cruel pain, “Only Catelyn had an issue with it. But when Robb told her, every other Lord had signed off on it already. He only asked for her support as a courtesy..but not a single person in that meeting protested. Because Robb was right and they all knew it.” You found his eyes and hoped that it wasn’t just another knife in his chest you were adding, “Robb made it perfectly clear, he knew you deserved everything he had. Because you were his brother. Because Stark or Snow..Ned Stark had four sons. Not three.”
You couldn’t be in here anymore, you couldn’t see the conflict on Jon’s face so drastically you couldn’t stand here and talk about Robb or the son that never came, or how you just wished Jon didn’t hate you for shoving this at him. “You needed to know, before you left. Because the first place we go, they are all going to know exactly who you are and..it would be a lot harder to turn around and leave at that point. You needed to know what you are agreeing too if you do.”
One last look at him, and his grey eyes were begging you for something but you both were in too much complicated of a mess to know what that was, or for him to just ask for what he needed. Your name slipped so, so gently from his lips but you shook your head.
Debating grabbing something warm, but it was your fathers coat next to Jon’s own fur cloak and you decided to just let the cold slam into your skin as you brushed a hand over the door handle. “I’m sorry. I’m...It wasn’t...I’m not trying to trick you into something you don’t want but in my defence,” Looking back at him you tried not to think too much about how Jon was almost trying to look at the scar under your clothes as you spoke. “I thought I’d be long dead by the time you found out. So at least I wouldn’t have to see first hand how much I just continue to ruin your life.”
You think Jon may have called to you, but you had walked out the door and made your way as far as possible. You just needed to be away from him. You’d have to leave soon, army at your side or just a fair few brave souls stupid enough to follow a leaderless cause. Making the same choice as those years ago, leaving Jon behind for the Night’s Watch as you left for something which would inevitably turn into a war.
Night approaching on Castle Black was when you were found. Finding a place away from most for just a while in silence before any could come to you with just one more thing to add onto the weight of your shoulders. Sitting up on a crate, one of your feet was resting up on a small clearing of firewood as the other hung off the crate free.
The wind was cold, and your bones even colder from how long you had been outside like this but ever since arriving here you hadn’t felt anything close to yourself, at least in captivity you had a reason for being so out of your own mind. Here though it was simply a barrage of mistakes or failures on your part that had you losing your sense of self.
At least when there was no one around, it didn’t matter how exhausted or lost you looked. You could sit and contemplate the place in life you found yourself in with disappointing ease. Fingers peeling the meat one small bit at a time from it’s skewer as you let the toughness occupy yourself with how much was needed to chew. Nothing special, but in that moment you cared not for what it tasted like as long as it kept you from passing out as soon as you stood up.
Only, not quite all of it, it seemed was to make it down to your mouth. Hearing nothing right up until a whine already was right beside you, you whipped around in place only to settle instantly. Ghost stood tall even on all fours, almost matching your elevated seating enough to where you felt the food over your lap. Red eyes looking to you and then the meat, you could almost see the little smile in his huff towards you.
Brows raised amusingly as you slowly pulled off a piece. “I see how this is, I finally decide I want something to eat of my own accord and here you are demanding I share.” Not wasting any time teasing the direwolf you held out a piece between two fingers as Ghost sniffed before ever so gently grabbing it himself. Just as you finished chewing your own, he stepped forward more. Eyes just as patiently waiting with excitement.
Chuckling, you pulled off two more small pieces, tossing them into your mouth before making a pile in your hand with the rest. Not having the chance to put them anywhere, Ghost simply bumbled into you and ducked his head into your lap to eat right from your hand. That smile felt genuine on your face, and you weren’t sure how long it had been since you felt a true one. Your free hand begun to run over his fur, occasionally scratching your nails along his scalp.
Finishing off your food, Ghost let another huff out before resting his head right in your lap. Eyes closing at the feeling of your nails and now too heavy to get up without the direwolf moving first. Your eyes simply stayed trained on him, watching his red eyes slowly dip the more relaxed you made him and yet you know this was a beast many feared.
You think you sat there with him for as long as you had alone, at least until his ears perked up. Moving his head off you to look to the approaching figure, and sinking back down to rest in your lap when it was only your mother. Standing quite a few feet away she eyes it with distrust, but you only shrugged a shoulder and ran a hand back over his white fur. “It’s alright, he would’ve been more aggressive if you couldn’t come near him.”
Carefully approaching, she made a wide path with narrowed eyes around the direwolf before gently sitting on the crate next to you. Albeit with far more grace then you had the energy to put off. Watching you run your hand lovingly along the giant wolf’s fur before breaking the silence. “How did you get it to trust you?”
Not looking at her, you smiled at the once more drooping eyelids of Ghost. “I knew him back when he was a pup. He likely just remembers my face. That and I offered him food.”
Neither of you rushing the conversation, Selyse simply sat quiet next to you for a while. Your relationship with your mother was as strained as it was complicated. She just as your father had, declared you nothing but a traitor with such callousness. But now he was gone, and Shireen was gone so all was left was the both of you. Two women who had not seen one another in over six years, since even before you returned to King’s Landing with Ned Stark.
When you did, it was all visits for Shireen. Most of your days on Dragonstone were out in the islands terrain together, trudging through the sun so you could show her all the places you found on your own as a child. Simply put, there was not much to say between you two at most times.
In Winterfell it was Catelyn Stark who saw fit to treat you as a daughter and it was that mother which followed you and Robb into war. A mother who died for that war. Instead you found a reunion with this woman and she was as strange to you as the father you met that one day in the fields of the south.
You couldn’t talk to her about Shireen anymore, telling her you would not hear it you couldn’t handle any of this religious fanaticism when you had to be the one to end her. What was left was only you two, but you didn’t want to turn her away entirely. Without you there was little left for her, and you dared not think what her life might be like so alone.
You already knew that was utterly painful.
“Your father saw something in him.” Your eyes flickered up, but you moved none else to show you heard her. “Spent much of his time here learning from him, as he learned from your father. I thought at first he saw him as the son I never gave him. But now I’m not so sure.”
You let your eyes drift to the ground to find a meaningless spot on it. “I didn’t imagine he offered him Winterfell for nothing.”
Selyse sighed, neither of you were making this easy but she wasn’t sure if it was you, her, or the habits passed from your father to blame for how awfully you all communicated. Unsure if it was worth trying to find a happy medium here or if she should just cut tight to the point.
“I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”
Your eyes flickering shut as you sighed deeply. Turning your head away from her with a grumble, “Mother.” Your tone in a stern warning, but you knew she would press on anyways.
Which she did, ignoring your protests entirely. “You can pretend the truth is otherwise all you like, but I have seen it. I also know, that he was prepared to leave everything behind here the moment he learned you were alive and ever since you brought him back he looks at you like he would have no idea what to do with himself if you leave again.”
You bit your tongue, shaking your head as you willed your breathing to settle a bit. “I would say he looks like a man who has had everything turned upside down since I came back into his life.” Ghost huffed in your lap as you almost ran your hand over his soft fur as a crutch. “And the second I leave he can go back to the life he was building for himself again.”
Her tone was as stern as yours could be, “How many times do you think there is a second chance at love, how many women even get a first chance and you are throwing away your-”
“Robb was my second chance.” Looking over at her, there was a mix of anger and a sorrow that had never gone away. But for once, you were pure and honest and it was the first person you so freely said it to and it was your mother of all people. “I loved Jon first. For a long time, then I got married. Jon left for here and we knew we’d never see each other again. And I fell in love with Robb. He was my second chance, he was the life I was to make after losing the first. And now I’m here. Back in Jon’s life as if he had any reason to want to help me beyond obligation. He shouldn’t want anything to do with me, and maybe Robb hates me for wishing it was otherwise.”
Your mother never met him, only heard through the whispers of a war and yet the way you spoke about him was with such a defeated sorrow. Difficult to imagine what it was like all that time with the Boltons when you lost so drastically. But she had met this one, had seen the way Stannis had admired something in Jon Snow and how you both stood here together after finding sure death.
“Plans the lord has for us go beyond the normal realms of a sacred vow.” Turning to look at her you tried so hard not to say a word about this belief of hers. But the look in her eye was serious, full of a true conviction. “Through everything that has happened, he brought you and this boy back from death so you could find each other again. Trust in him that it means something.”
You cared not for her god, not for it’s strange way of doctrine, not for the fire that demanded sacrifice and blood, and not for how it was brought to your family by the woman who strung your sister up on a pyre to burn. “Why would this god of yours care for two people who don’t even believe in him?”
Leaning in, her face narrowed trying to plead to a destiny just as the red woman spoke of, just as your father always spoke that you had no choice in and you hated all of it. “Perhaps your fate with this boy is important enough the Lord can see passed such an offence. Your father is the chosen and you without any belief in the lord still think he is out there. Still leaving to unite these people for a war you didn’t even know of until finding him.”
Ghost rose his head up, suddenly rising up on a dime, as he tilted his head towards you in a eeiry silence. Leaving you to lean forward out of her sight in your sides covering your mouth with hands clasped together.
“You are meant to fight by your father’s side. Come to him in the great war, only perhaps the Great Wolf she spoke of was this one. The one that is still here, the one that you brought back.” Your eyes once more flickered to Ghost before sighing.
Both of you were quiet for a moment before you muttered, “We leave in a few days, if you are sure you want to follow you should start packing now. Have Olly gather Father and Shireen’s things as well.”
Ghost had been sternly silent, until suddenly moving forward coming to Jon’s side as he approached the pair of you. Only a matter of time before it all fell apart between you two and now was that time. “Pardon, my lady but if I could have a moment alone with your daughter?”
Nodding without issue, you both stood as she gave you one last look. One of a mother you knew was telling you to just listen to her for once before parting ways. The silence between you and Jon was painful, at least to you. “How did you know where I was?” Jon’s head tilting towards Ghost as you narrowed your eyes the slightest with a whispered, “Traitor.”
Coming closer towards you, there was no tension in his stance or face that you expected from the man, instead it all sat on your shoulders. All plastered on how much you were keeping a stone walled expression that for so long was never, could never be directed towards him. But now you were afraid to let anything else slip passed.
Looking you over with an amused glint in his eye, “At least I know it’s not just you whose bad at dressing for the cold.” You only shrugged a shoulder, glancing away from him before he found more reason to fill the silence. “Come with me, I have something for you.”
Narrowing your eyes, Jon only turned to the side, beckoning you again to follow. Doing so quietly, and a few more feet away from him then what looked natural. Paths moved out of the way for you both when passing by with watchful eyes that never seemed to go away anymore. For you or him.
Coming back to his own quarters, he guided you in first as he held the door open for you. Noticing to yourself that certain things seemed to be moved around, or at least it appeared that way as it looked emptier then before. But it was where the bed was that laid a few things, leathers, gloves, all in dyes of black.
Jon kept himself a few feet behind you as you looked it over. “I couldn’t let you leave in just those. They aren’t perfect, what I could get from the Night’s Watch own supply but they should fit well enough.” A look over your shoulder your face a little softer, and finding nothing but his own genuine concern on his own. “You should try them on before you leave.”
Turning back, your heart felt a bit faster in pace but your mind also told there there was little point in hiding. At this point more then you’d ever care too had seen beneath it all. The room was deathly silent as you slowly took things off. Back facing him you knew he could see lashes fading across your spine and a distinct scar he knew was from an arrow that had not healed but just sat dormant like certain others. One also on your upper arm that matched the imprint from that night.
At least turned away from Jon, he couldn’t see the occasional wince that crossed your face. Not much hurt to the same degree, but the muscles within not without their soreness sometimes. Hard to forget you truly hadn’t been away from the Bolton’s long enough for the worst of it to go away.
The leathers were warmer then anything you’d worn in the past year, making you wonder just how much of you being used to the cold was simple over exposure. Neither of you spoke a word despite knowing Jon’s eyes watching you the entire time, only when you gently sat on the edge of the bed did Jon come forward, kneeling down in front of you. “Let me.”
Even behind the gloves you could feel such a gentle touch, making sure the much sturdier boots fit and lacing them up without thinking of it. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”
He didn’t look up, focused on the task at hand as his voice rasped out, “I know.” Your fingers flexing into your fists as a lightness shivered over your spine. He always was like this, doing small things for you, getting things for you simply because you needed them and he wanted to do it. Finally meeting your eyes again asking, “Everything feel okay?” When you nodded he stood up abruptly, “Good. I have one more thing for you.”
Eyes slipping closed with a sigh, you stood with a dejected tone almost in warning, “Jon.”
It was a proper sword and sheath he returned with. Nothing flashy, just simple black and an average hilt. Taking it gently from him, he explained as you pulled it out slightly to look at the blade. “It isn’t anything special, but I had adjusted to fit your size.” Your eyes had narrowed, containing the feeling that this had the distinct markings of newly forged. “Assuming you haven’t forgotten how to swing one.”
For the first time, you glanced up at his grey eyes with a slight smirk before lingering too long. “I remember a thing or two.” His hand reached to take it back, unexpectedly moving close enough you could feel the ends of his hair, as he moved behind you.
Strapping the entire thing properly to your person, no doubt Jon could hear the hitch in your breathe at the close proximity. Ensuring it was snug enough before so lightly he rested his hands on your forearms before sliding up to just below your shoulder. Rasping deep into your ear, “I had Theon prepare everything to be sent out when you’re ready. Had to make a few changes first, myself.”
He didn’t let you turn to face him, but you also picked out that he likely knew you’d try to walk away from him the moment he did. “Why?”
Another shiver ran down, but this time not at the husk in his tone but the sureness in words. “Didn’t want any of them to think they were about to be raided by an army of wildlings when they all show up with us.”
“Us?”
Jon turned you himself, but kept you in his hold. Things between you were delicate but so much of that strained state came from your nerves alone. “The North is our home. All of it. And I’m not going to let you walk away from me again to fight a war all by yourself.”
Tilting your head a bit with a narrowed gaze you looked with a hesitation, “Jon if this is only because-”
“It’s not.” He no doubt, felt the shiver that crossed your skin as one of his hands gently traced up your shoulder to gently run across the hair at the back of your head as he leaned in. Enough you could feel his breathe along your skin, but never pushed further. “I spent my whole life watching Robb get everything I ever wanted, and I spent my whole life wishing I could hate him for him. Then I watched him marry the one thing that was mine and mine alone for years, and I still never could hate him.”
It was a moment just like this, as Jon told you not to look for him during the wedding. That he wanted you to be okay with becoming Robb’s, and yet years and loss later for all of you it was you both back in such a similar position once more talking about Robb.
Only you were both older, one of you much more broken and the other strong and full of what makes a true leader. And this time, you already were Robb’s and this time you also knew too well what you were missing by pushing Jon away.
Your voice but a whisper, “He,” You swallowed as your eyes slid shut in a flicker before collecting your thoughts, trying not to think of the hand ever so slowly raking through your hair. “Robb regretted not being there for you more. Wishing he stood up for you more, stepped in between you and his mother more..but this wasn’t..He wasn’t trying to prove anything with this. He just wanted to give you the one thing he knew you never would’ve thought you deserved, because he knew you truly did.”
Much like the night of the feast as well, Jon watched your hands come close to resting gently on his person and painfully hold back. “How about we start with fighting to get our home back.”
That you could agree on, that was something you could focus on. Once more however, a small smirk slid onto your face catching his curious eyes. “I’m not sure anything has quite felt like home in a long time. It may be nice to finally find one for once.”
The wall somehow felt even windier in the sunlight. Your backs both against the edges of the opening looking out to the vast forest and snowy mountains fading into the far North. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, but you gave each offer it’s fair strengths and drawbacks. Theon’s choice to follow was simple, you or risk returning to Pyke and only one of them had a promise of someone to trust still at his back and defence.
Olly was a bit different. He was pledged here, but circumstances were different. Not here by force, but simply beacuse his only home was taken from him so suddenly and violently. He was finding his stride previously as Jon’s steward but since that day, he had found a strange fearful trust in yourself. You in a way seemed to scare him, your stern intensity but also there was a softer spot that he had seen in your fathers quarters. He had followed you and your every order since that point and now that you were preparing to leave in a number of days he felt conflicted about staying behind.
None had spoken of his involvement of that night, and it only confirmed your initial suspicions that he was very much manipulated into it by Thorne. None felt the need to throw him to your mercy or to Jon’s, likely as the rest found shame and guilt in their own actions knowing it was too their fault for letting a child become entangled in the crime.
Looking back to you, he clearly was fighting to find the right words. Knowing you watched out to the north with nothing but patience for him to find it. “He wouldn’t want me around.”
A small smile came to you, rolling your head back with an eyebrow raised and a gentle tone that he continued to find some comfort in. “He’s left your situation in my hands. Hasn’t even said a word about what I’ve chosen to do with you, and he continues to be here with ten other men who are far more guilty then you.”
It was a mix of what he did, and seeing Jon come back. He looked to you with a fear in ways, but it was stronger towards him. Crossing his arms behind his back as he dropped his head, you watched calmly without any prompt. You couldn’t choose this for him, it was a weight he was to bare the rest of his life and none could dictate how he would cope with it. At this age, anything was possible.
“What would I do if I stayed?”
Eyes flickering to the side in thought before finding his once more, one shoulder moving in a slight shrug. “Serve whoever runs this place all the same, learn and grow from being under their leadership and find a purpose the way you tried to before any of this happened. One action shouldn’t dictate the rest of your life.”
He narrowed his brows, looking back down to his feet in thought. Your voice speaking up once more before it got too far, “Olly, it’s not just him to consider. When we leave, the free folk are coming with us, fighting with us. There’s no escaping that if you come with me. I’m not telling you to get over that pain, but I am asking you to consider if you’re ready to let your anger sit aside yet.”
That got him, his eyes flying out to the other side of the high walls even though little could be seen from where you both stood. You could still so vividly see what he had told you of that day. Of the horrible numb feeling seeing an arrow fly into his father’s neck, how he crumpled to the ground without his face even shifting. And the memory of his mother shaking him by the arms telling him to hide before they were overrun and she was utterly slaughtered.
How two men snatched him, hissing in his ear about how they were going to eat them and to run to Castle Black before they did it to him as well. You wouldn’t get over that so quickly either, but you also had the advantage of age. You could shove that into a box and hide it under the earth beacuse you could look out now to the North and see the crystal blue eyes that haunted your dreams. Olly hadn’t see any of that, himself or in dreams and visions. It was harder to see.
He sighed deeply. Looking back to you with almost a sad hope. “When you take Winterfell, what happens then?”
It hurt, seeing such a young, innocent face so torn from his bias, to his actions, to the pain that would never go away. The way Olly was so horrified by the truth of his actions, that he burst into tears trying to confess. The weight that you knew was horrible and burning in your mind and it came to him after only just finding his way into teenage hood.
You were quiet, trying yourself not to put too much hope into the blood and battle you were eventually to walk into. “Some will begin finding land to settle into, ones that would be safer away from the fights to come, some will likely stay at our side and others will go to wherever our plans then take us. But there is no hiding from them, Olly. They’re here now, and one way or another you will have to find a way to handle that.”
Waiting a beat, you had one idea he way be able to live with. Stepping closer, you knelt down a bit in front of him. Once more, Olly seemed to find it a bit easier to look you in the eye when not forced to look up at you in fear. “You can either come with me when we leave, stay here at the Night’s Watch. Or...” You drew out the first few syllables of the next word trying to be sure and phrase it to the boy with hope. “..when we reclaim Winterfell, you can make your way there. I’ve made it clear to the men here that you are with me, and considering your age and why you even came here.”
More hope was in his eyes at that. Clearly being left behind here wasn’t an easy choice for him, and you tried hard not to think about how you leaving seemed to feel like being abandoned to Olly. You also forced yourself to not even slightly consider the implications of why.
“You promise they won’t catch me as a deserter if I do?”
Forcing a small smile onto your lips, you raised your eyebrows playfully. “I can write you up a pretty, formal deceleration if it makes you feel better.” He huffed out a laugh at that. While you didn’t tell him before you left, you made your way into his room and left two papers. One with just that, a promise from the Queen in the North of his assurance to travel from Castle Black to Winterfell, and another smaller note scrawled out much more personally and a tad playfully, saying just in case he thought he would need it.
It wouldn’t be for a few more days that you would leave, but being totally alone now made the most sense. And when Olly hugged you tight, it was harder and harder to deny that perhaps that admiration Theon was speaking of, was just a conflicted, hurt boy finding the only solace he could, in a woman who reminded him of the mother he lost.
The Sun was up still shining a gold in the sky, as three figures stood at the railings watching over the growing black in the skyline. Only years ago, this same image looked out over a war for the North, only this time the wolf next to you was the one which was missing last, his own person darker in heart, and a strange one that beat despite the very wounds in is chest to stop it.
And yours lay untouched but under the mutilation of something that left you to bleed out in agony but both knew they would not be in a living soul once more were it not for the other. You didn’t understand any of it, and neither did Jon. But it was a truth that you couldn’t ignore. You both had been dead, and both would be things that would no longer be able to be ignored.
The Northmen knew of your death, and the Free Folk of Jons and once those whispers converged, there was no telling what was to be in store for that, or for the blood inevitably to follow.
As the three of you watched the Ravens leave, a final decision that sealed what was to be walked in on, and what was to come of the enemy you were to fight. It was Theon to the right who looked at you. An underlying waver in his own voice as he watched the far away one in yours that both men beside you could feel radiating with it’s own fear. “Are you afraid to see him again?”
Your hands on the railing tightened as Jon’s eyes darkened at the sights and sounds of what he had seen all over you, and the vile things he had Theon tell of what else had been done to you. You could fight a war against Roose Bolton, but fighting one against Ramsay was truly what Jon knew would turn violent. Your war against Roose was for the North and for Robb, but to Jon, the war against Ramsay was for you.
All your response could muster as your eyes stayed trained on the distant ravens was a single nod. A nod that had Theon lean forward more against the rails. “Good.”
Both looked at you but you looked at none. “Why is that good?”
You knew why. Theon had endured as you did, and he was the one who dragged you from that hell out and running into the cold and the freezing waters to escape before his torment ended your life, at his hands or your own. And now, you were going back. Numbers at your side, a hope for more to join, and a wolf that Theon could see, would shed as much blood as he could to protect you. But still, all that horror and you would be going right back to face him. And Theon’s answer was as blunt as it was honest about why.
“It means you’re not stupid.”
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wishfulwithwine · 2 years ago
Text
Twin Flames : Chapter Six
Eris Vanserra x Archeron Sister Reader
“You are a peace and a flame, you steady me and stir me all at once” - butterflies rising
“I don’t want to just love you.  I want our souls to merge and burn brighter  than any star found in this universe”  - Lola Lawrence
The youngest Archeron sister, loved and protected by all her sisters and the Inner Circle, is mated to the hated heir of the Autumn Court. Will they find peace, or burn in the flames?
Warnings: series will have cursing, smut, violence, ptsd, alcohol, and other possible triggers. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF MINOR. 18+ ONLY
Series Masterlist
(photo from @octobers-veryown​ )
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All you could do was wait and pace. Wait and sit. Wait and read. Wait and cook. Wait and read.
It felt like time was on a never ending loop of waiting.
As soon as your “mating week” with Eris ended - a passionate, exhausting, love-filled week - Eris was pulled immediately with his father and brothers for the war with Hybern. The immediate aloneness after such an affectionate week was harsh on your emotions. A complete whiplash of feelings, and still new to Autumn Court, you were grateful that at least the Lady of Autumn, Serah, was a comforting presence and wished to know as much as she could about the woman who married her son. 
Everyday since Eris left for the war, he’d pull on your bond as many times as he could to make sure you were ok. Temporarily, you moved into the castle with her, to keep her company as well as it was the safest for both of you. 
It also helped ease your fears, when he pulled on the bond, so you know he was alive. You’d tell him you loved him, and send your warmth and love through the bond. The heightened emotions of the mating week to not seeing your husband at all had your heart anxiously awaiting his return. Your feelings sometimes felt like they were in a blender, attempting to be patient.
He could feel your worry sometimes, a slight twinge on the outer edges of your feelings. He was ready to go home, but Eris couldn’t… until it was over.
“How are you feeling today?” Serah, the Lady of Autumn asked, coming into the library where you sat on one of the chairs, snuggled under a thick blanket and a book. You smiled at her, as she sat down on the couch next to you. A servant followed her, carrying a tray of tea and some cinnamon treats. 
“Better. Can’t wait till Eris gets back though. How are you?” You replied, as the servant poured each of you a cup of tea. You eagerly accepted the warm drink, accepting the comfort of the little things.
“Good, although I can only imagine your feelings. Separated just after mating week with your mate? How many times has my son pulled on your bond?” She joked, and you giggled. 
“I lose track, but it’s comforting knowing he’s still alive, especially since I can’t be there with him” You said, and she nodded.
“Yes, but from what some of the letters I’ve received, they all should be home shortly. You must be excited to tell him, or have you already?” Serah said, with a twinkle in her eye, shifting her eyes to your belly.
“Y/N! Are you alright in there?” Serah asked, after you had sprinted to the bathroom in the middle of eating.
“I’m - * barf * I’ll be fine” You said, clutching the bowl as you prayed the nausea to go away. Your side of the bond was closed off, making sure Eris wouldn’t feel your sickness.
“This is the third day of this. I’m getting our healer” Serah said concerned, bringing you to a couch when you were able to leave the restroom. You nodded, in no shape to argue with your mother-in-law.
“Hello, Mrs. Vanserra. I hear you’re feeling nauseous for a few days now?” The healer, Ygritte, said, as she came and analyzed your body with her magic.
“Please, call me Y/N. Yes, dizzy and light headed too, but I just figured that was because of the stress with Eris being away so quickly after mating” You said, as Serah stood close by, watching Ygritte.There wasn’t anyone else in the room, but there were guards outside the door. 
“Well, it’s not a stomach bug or bad food, it seems like. You seem very healthy… oh. Oh! Congratulations, Y/N. You’re pregnant” Ygritte said with a smile.
“No, I want to tell him in person. I just wish I knew when he was coming so I could make something to announce to him with, like the Autumn Court pie. Or buy some little baby clothes to tell him” You said, rubbing your belly.
“Oh that would be precious! We can definitely make the pie for him when we get home, but the shopping will have to wait. When I was pregnant with Eris, Beron and I found out together. We were trying and I was visiting Ygritte everyday to see. Beron was very excited to start having a family” Serah said, and you could tell with the way parts of her face pinched, that she was trying to tell the happy version of the story. Without Beron here, Serah expressed herself more. You could feel her be more comfortable in the surroundings, despite living here for hundreds of years.
“I always pictured being pregnant and how I would find out, and to be honest, I never pictured this” You chuckled, with a smile.
“I forget that you are not originally fae. I understand the… process… was terrible, do you miss being a human?” Serah asked, and you shook your head.
“I don’t, honestly. I… I get nightmares often about what Hybern did to me, did to my sisters and I, but with Eris, all I’ve found is joy and happiness. I miss my sisters, but when we were human, we were so poor, I had two jobs, with less than hour or two between them to make some money so we could eat. It was… awful” You said, and Serah smiled.
“I had two sisters as well. I can only imagine how you feel being separated from them” Serah said, comfortingly, bringing her hand to cover yours.
“I love them, but this is my family now” You replied, and Serah squeezed your hand with a smile.
“Of course we are. I can’t believe I’ll be a grandmother” She said, smiling widely as she gazed at where your hands were placed on your stomach. 
The news of your pregnancy had brought her immense joy, and although you were waiting to tell more people until Eris came home, she whispered to you plans for them. Excited was an understatement - especially when she would talk about her plans for the parties and reconstruction of the castle.
“Lady of Autumn, Lady Y/N Vanserra, High Lord Beron and sons are on their way home” the guard announced, and your smile brightened. Serah’s flickered with a small bit of happiness - although she wasn’t thrilled her husband was coming back, she was happy her son would be able to hear the news.
“Well it seems that there is no time to prepare” You giggled, squeezing her hand softly as she chuckled.
“No, but Eris will be happy nonetheless” Serah said, smiling.
“Y/N, my wife” Beron said, greeting both of you as the Vanserra boys winnowed into the library.
You smiled graciously, curtsying properly to the High Lord. 
“I will see you all for dinner in a few hours” Beron stated, looking at the boys who all looked like they needed a shower quickly. You could feel the growing frustration to be close to you down the bond from Eris, itching to hold you in his arms, and as soon as Beron walked out of the room with Serah, he winnowed the two of you to your home.
“My love, I’ve missed you” Eris groaned, slotting his lips against yours as he pressed his body firmly against yours.
“I’ve missed you too” You whimpered out, as his hips ground against yours. His hands were warm, as they held out tight, feeling your silhouette. He gripped your hips, anchoring himself to you desperately.
He burned your dress, not in flames but burned it just so that it became ashes and fell of your skin. His clothes fell off in ashes as well, and without even looking at your body,Eris quickly maneuvered the two of you to the bed, his lips attached to yours. The smell of both of your arousal permeated thickly through the air, and your body fell drunk off the lust.
“Eris, Eris, wait my love” You said, pushing him slightly away from you. Confused, but respectful, he pulled away, looking into your eyes, concern written across his face. 
“Is everything ok? Too much?” He asked, looking at your body if he had harmed you in some way while moving the pair of you to the bed.
“No, my love. Just - I love you, Eris Vanserra. And you might have to be a bit gentler, now that our love has created something” You said, trying to say it without giving it away immediately. You knew how smart Eris was, but right now, he was confused, cocking his head with an eyebrow raise.
“What? We created something?” Eris asked, and although you tried not to, your mouth let out a giggle. You put your hand over his hand, before moving his hand to your slightly swollen belly. He looked down, seeing the littlest of bumps, and then looked at you shocked.
“We’re - we’re - baby?” He said, stuttering in disbelief.
Eris couldn’t believe he didn’t notice it before, with the belly being swollen underneath his hands and you - you were glowing. Your breasts are a bit larger, and your smell - the smell of your was different, spicier just like his own.
He sank to his knees, placing both hands on your belly, and kissed it, before staring at it blatantly. You could only smile widely, as he kept kissing it. You could feel the indescribable amount of joy and love through your bond, as it all but radiated Eris’ amazement.
“You, my little flame, love of my life, my mate - I thought I was the happiest man alive before but this - this, I - I love you. You are the most incredible person in my life” Eris asked, looking up at you, his eyes filling with tears. You reached down, wiping away his tears although your eyes were watering heavily as well. 
“I love you, husband” You said, when he stood and kissed him passionately.
“Are you okay to do this?” He asked, concerned now. You chuckled, nodding your head.
“Please, husband, I’ve been waiting for you for so long” You said, and Eris smirked.
“Well, I’d be a terrible husband if I’ve kept my perfect wife waiting any longer” He said, before devouring your lips. His large hands held on to your hips as he brought you flush against his body, allowing you to feel every muscle of his body as his clothes finally came off. His thick cock pressed into your belly, and your hips moved into his to alleviate the ache you were beginning to feel, aching for more of Eris’ touch.
“My good girl, I feel how eager you are. My sweet good girl” Eris whispered, as his lips travelled down your jaw to sucking on your neck, leaving a bruise on your soft skin. He leaned you back against the bed, moving his body between your legs, as he massaged your breast and inner thighs. 
“Eris,” You moaned, pulling gently on his hair.
“Alright, my love. I’m impatient too. I’ve thought about this all the time, trying to get back to you sooner” He said, as he lifted your leg onto his hip as his fingers slid through your folds, already wet from anticipation. 
“You’re already wet for me, my love? I bet you taste even sweeter. Next time, I promise, but I just need to be inside of you” He said, trying to loosen you up with his fingers before the tip of his cock began pushing inside of you, much gentler than he usually did.
You let out a moan, whimpering as your legs wrapped around his waist.
He smirked, looking at where the two of you connected, and thrust inside of you.
“Baby, you’re even tighter. I - you look even better, my flame. Mine. I’m going to keep you knocked up - you like that don’t you?” He asked, teasingly as he felt you squeeze him. “Yea, pump you full of my babies? Gods, thank you for gifting me you for the mother of my kids” He groaned, as you squeezed him, trying to milk his cock.
Your hips tried to meet his, to urge him to go faster, but it seemed Eris got the message, speeding up the pace as he leaned forward, his breath caressing your neck.
“I’m- I’m” You started to say, as you moaned.
“I got you, my little flame. I’m right behind you” He said, breathless, as you shattered underneath him. Your orgasm triggered his, and soon, you were both breathless, laying next to each other on the bed, your limbs entangled with one another.
Eris turned on his side, looking at you, as he tried to memorize his view: you, glowing with pregnancy and post-orgasmic haze, your hair thrown about in a crown around you, cheeks flushed and lips parted.
You felt his stare and turned to face him, as he wrapped an arm around your waist.
“Let’s go take a bath, my love” You said, before he kissed your lips and helped you out of the bed and towards the bathroom.
Your poured your usual oils, and waited for the bath to fill with hot water, as your husband attached himself to your back, resting his hands on your belly. 
You had gotten better at the bath tub - although while Eris was away, you took colder ones to avoid any memory of the incident. 
When it was ready, Eris got in first - as was routine with you two now, and reached for your hand to help you sit in front of him, your back to his chest. He gathered the water in his hands, and helped wash you before you turned around, ready to do the same to him.
“Eris” You sighed, looking at the bruises scattered across his body. Without even thinking, your hand began to glow as you tried to help.
“Y/N, stop. I don’t want it to hurt the baby. This is nothing serious” Eris said, holding your wrists as he forced his hands away from his body. You nodded, reluctantly, and then washed him.
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