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dipperscavern · 3 months ago

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THE BET - JON SNOW

pairing: jon snow x gn!reader, 4.2k words

synopsis: you’ve made a bet with jon snow — now begs the question, who will come out on top?

authors note: i heard the call for jon snow content, and this idea came to me in the middle of the night wearing dobby the elfs tea cozy. enjoy! <3 [ @eldrith ]

jon snow never considered himself a betting man.

he never considered himself a blushing one, either — or a swooning one. until he met you.

you bring out the best in him, it’s true. but you also (somehow) bring to light his playful side, the one he thought he left behind in winterfell; along with the games he, robb, and theon used to play, the peace of the godswood, the smell of the kitchens wafting through the corridors (stick them with the pointy end).

he had left it all at winterfell on purpose. he needed to shed jon, shed the princely stark-ness he’d grown up with (though he’d never consider himself a real one), and replace it with the black he adorned on his shoulders. ever since he knelt before the weirwood, swearing vows in the sight of the old gods, he was no longer boy — but man. and with that, he left the boyish attributes, replacing them by those of men. warriors. or, at least, he’d like to believe.

partaking in bets was one of the most boyish things he could do, but truly, he could not chide himself for it if he tried. it involves you — it involves making you smile. and that, he will never register as a thing needing scolding, even if it’s only internally.

it was painfully obvious to you and jon the way samwell tarly looked at gilly, daughter of the devil. you would know, it’s how you and jon spend your time looking at one another. sam is head over heels for gilly, always helping her to the best of his abilities, advocating for her, looking at her as if she hung the stars and the moon… yes, samwell tarly was smitten.

you and jon both knew gilly was taken with sam. gilly knew she was taken with sam. the only one who didn’t know gilly was taken with sam, was sam himself.

you and jon are rather protective over sam and gilly both, so while you’d kill and die for them, you’ve left their feelings to be sorted out themselves. of course, you give advice when asked, and perhaps give one a nudge in the right direction on occasion, but is it really meddling if it’s for a good cause?

the true reason sam had kept his feelings to himself so far, was an extremely sweet one. he didn’t want gilly to think he was just using her, or didn’t genuinely care for her. he didn’t want her to be able to look at him and see her father. well, that, and he was shy — but that was one of the things you and jon liked about sam. it somehow made him sweeter.

either way, even with his profound saint-like mindset, you could tell sam was getting closer to telling gilly how he really felt. you saw the way he would open his mouth to say something, how gilly would give him her full attention, then how he’d shrink back down, letting his nerves get the best of him.

sam only grew more frustrated as time went on (never with gilly, only himself). when asked, sam would stumble out something like-

“Gilly — oh, right, she’s um — she’s great...” with a defeated look in his eye, leaving before you could ask further.

staring at her (more than usual), never being able to fully concentrate when she was near. he’d always start to approach her, then let his nerves steer him in the other direction. gilly was now all sam could think about, it being the only topic of conversation jon could coax out of him. sure, it began to drive jon fairly mad, but it was better than the grumbling silence you’d endured at the start of his romantic-turmoil. samwell tarly was nearing the edge of insanity, and you & jon could both tell it wouldn’t be long yet. so, naturally, you’d made a bet.

“You know, I think Sam’s really gonna do it.”

your voice cut through the silence as you and jon cleaned up the mess hall. right now, you were looking out a window, watching sam and gilly have a conversation. sam was fidgeting, the way he always does when he’s nervous.

“You must not know him very well, then.” jon says. you turn to give jon an exasperated look, barely concealing the roll of your eyes. he looks up at you, and you see the upward quirk of his lips that tells you he finds this — the joint disagreeing — truly enjoying.

“I mean it,” you say, touching your tongue to the roof of your mouth, turning back to resume observing them. as gilly and sam share a smile, a noise akin to one you’d make seeing a small puppy rises from the back of your throat, voice softening. “Awh— Jon, look at them.”

this does the trick of grabbing jon’s attention, and he stops his table-scrubbing to come join you at the window. he shakes his head, exhaling through his nose. “It’ll never happen,” he says.

“Gods, Snow,” the use of his surname in place of your usual (honey-dripping) ‘jon’ has his head snapping to you. “I didn’t take you for faithless.”

the chuckle jon lets slip has shivers crawling up your spine. you choose to ignore it. “I only mean,” he says, re-wetting his scrub brush. “that Sam is one to take it slow.” you turn to give him a look that has him backtracking.

“Slower than he has been,” he clarifies. he looks to you, and takes your lack of response as acceptance, moving to resume his table-scrubbing. you resume as well, and a few seconds pass before you stop, looking at jon with newfound defiance.

“No— your absence of faith does not deter me,” you say, pointing an accusing finger at jon. he bites back his smile at how cute you look in your retaliation. “Sam’s going to do it, I know this.”

jon takes the bait, setting down his scrub brush, leaning both hands against the table. “Alright, and I know he won’t.”

you scoff at his stubbornness. “He’ll approach her by the next moon’s turn.” you don’t give sam much time, the next moons turn being only a week away. you don’t give it any thought.

jon raises his brows. “And if he doesn’t?”

“Then you win.” you say, lightly shrugging. “Aye, I would. What would I get in return?” he asks, unrelenting. you search for something worthy to offer, but come up short. he fills in the gaps for you.

“Whatever I want?”

you nod. you usually wouldn’t put such a promise in a man of the nights watches hands, most being criminals & rapists, but it’s not just anyone you’re trusting. it’s jon. he’s safe.

“You’re on, Snow.” you say, returning to your table-scrubbing without further word than that. jon ignores the butterflies in his stomach, and attempts to scrub them away on the hard wood of the worn-out oak table.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

over the next week, you’re starting to become faithless; it seems the gods have abandoned you.

you thought his frustration would boil over, giving him the confidence he needed to confess, but yet again, samwell tarly has exceeded expectations in the department of pining.

jon silently relishes in his oncoming victory, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so — prone to smiling. whenever he sees you, he bites the inside of his cheek (or his tongue), in every effort to conceal the massive grin that threatens to erupt on his face. this only makes you grumble, and edds told you if you don’t stop rolling your eyes so much they’ll get stuck like that.

sam has peeled away from everything entirely, it seems. keeping his head down, only speaking when spoken to, always looking like he has something on his mind. he’s like this with everyone, jon, gilly, and you included. the nights watch is feeling the absence of their usual beam of light, and edds proclaimed if you, jon, and gilly aren’t being spoken to, then they all should keep an eye out for wildlings flying over the wall until further notice.

now, when you and jon see each other, it’s more silent than ever. you know if he opens his mouth it’ll be boasting proclamations of onset victory, and you can’t say if that happens you won’t put your hands on him. he seems to know this too, smart enough to keep to himself and not press your buttons. somehow this only frustrates you more. maybe if jon was more insufferable, you’d have a harder time loving him.

even with your own romantic dilemma, the main thing on your mind is sam, and the stupid bet you shouldn’t have made in the first place. you’ve tried leaving sam alone, forgetting about it entirely, praying, and even giving him a nudge in the right direction. making sure jon wasn’t near, then asking about his day, and after, about gilly — but iif you ask about gilly, you get the same record on repeat.

“What? Oh, Gilly, yeah… yeah she’s great. Working with Maester Aemon ‘nd… she’s great, really.” he’d say, fiddling with his hands, gaze trapped on the floor (or, if gilly was in the vicinity, on her).

your gaze would soften, but even you aren’t enough this time. “Sam, look, maybe you should—“

“Oh— I’ve got to go, I’m late for my meeting with Jon. Bye.. bye then!” he’d call, walking quickly in the other direction (not toward jon’s chambers), and as he walks away, you could almost see victory leaving with him.

by the end of the week, you and sam are in the same boat emotionally. jon thinks if you scrub the tables any harder you’ll break the wood, and this time, he doesn’t refrain from mentioning it.

“Careful.”

he means it in (half) good faith, but you glare at him all the same. and you see the shift in his tongue that means he’s biting down on it to stop his smile from appearing. you roll your eyes, and the image of edds face appears in your head as you do so.

you scrub angrily for the next few minutes, until you can’t bear it anymore.

“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it, Jon.”

he glances up at you, a raise of his brows appearing as he speaks. “Who’s faithless now?”

“Don’t. You and I both know he was near to burst a week ago.” you say, crossing your arms and looking out the same window you did the night a bet was made.

jon makes a noise of disagreement, but (intelligently) doesn’t press any further.

“I just don’t get it. How can — how can you be so,” you look for the right wording, emotion punctuating your sentences. “so in love with someone without telling them?”

jon momentarily stops scrubbing, entire body pausing at your words. luckily for him, you’re too caught up with sam to notice. jon gets it.

“He doesn’t want to ruin what they have.” he says, and if you weren’t so frustrated, you’d pick up on the tone that says he isn’t just talking about sam and gilly. you come to sit at the bench of the table hes working on, and jon notices the color of your eyes bathed in the light exuding from the window.

“Right, but—“ you sigh, trying to string your thoughts together. “but they could have more. Isn’t it worth the risk, than to spend your time only being that? Always dancing on the edge of more?”

the sincerity jon can see in your eyes only makes his heart race, but it also makes him reflect on your relationship. jon’s in love with you, that much is easy to pinpoint, but do you love him? would you allow his tainted hands to sully you, if given the opportunity? jon’s gaze flickers to your lips, and returns back to your eyes.

though quick, in the silence, you notice it. you take pity, leaning back to allow jon his personal space (that you hadn’t even registered invading) back. he only wishes you’d return, even closer this time.

but he doesn’t say that. among all the things unspoken…

“Sam doesn’t think it worth the risk.” he decides, and he can see the gears turning in your head. he returns to light scrubbing to give you time to string your thoughts together. you don’t like speaking without correlation (the first thing jon learned about you).

a few seconds pass before you speak, and your voice is quieter than its usual volume. “Do you think it worth the risk?”

jon’s silence only prompts you to make the question clearer. “If you had the opportunity, would you risk it?”

would he? would he speak your name, of the devotion he harbors for you? he could take the risk, but what’s the rush? jon’s never considered his time with you limited. he shrugs.

“It depends,” he says. “On the person.. how long I have. Some are content where they stand.”

you nod, but he can tell that’s not the answer you were looking for. “I think so,” he adds as an afterthought. you seem content with it, and brush his knuckles in passing as you return to your own table. it makes his heart jump.

jon would think it accidental if he didn’t know you so well.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

you think you could smell jon’s amusement from anywhere you stand in castle black.

the moon turns tonight, and sam seems no closer now than he was a week ago. the jest is on you for putting faith in the confidence of cowards.

you’re perfectly content to avoid jon for the entirety of the day, and even worse, he seems content to let you. you meet each others eyes in passing, and while your gaze is defeated, his is only cloaked with half-amused sympathy (accompanied by that smile he adorns only when he’s with you). if you looked closer, you don’t doubt you could find some arrogance in there, but you’re too busy being a sore loser to try. it doesn’t occur to you that jon hates not seeing you achieve, even if it’s only a bet. one that’s in his favor.

the nights watch had decided to celebrate the moons turning with drinks after supper tonight. usually, the moon isn’t any topic worthy of celebration, but things have been unusually quiet in castle black lately. as far as white walkers and wildlings go, that is. why not have a little fun?

the mess hall is warm, bustling with the combined voices of black brothers. bellies are full, and the ale in everyone’s cup allows for a lighthearted atmosphere. you’ve decided to put the bet on a back burner, a simmering problem to deal with tomorrow. you’re warm & fuzzy, looser with your tongue than usual; although you can’t help wincing whenever someone drops food or creates a new stain on the tables.

you forego avoiding jon, and not just because you naturally gravitate toward him when drinking ale. he’s more than eager to keep you by his side, not fully trusting anyone in the room with you incapacitated (maybe edd on blood moons).

much to your dismay, there’s been no sign of samwell tarly. he had vacated the premises after everyone was done supping, and before the ale had been poured. everyone noticed; of course they did. sam was alike to the glue that held much together. sure, he was cowardly, and occasionally frustrating, but sam was the voice of reason. and everyone was starting to feel the weight of his absence.

bet or not, you think after tonight you might have to seriously intervene in your friends love life. you hate to see him like this, dejected and hopeless…. maybe you have a better chance of guiding gilly than sam. in the midst of your thoughts, you glance out the window noticing the sun setting. and with it, goes any hope you had at victory.

jon’s gaze follows yours, and recognizes your defeat with you. but still, ever the gentleman, he doesn’t mention it; only allowing a small upward tug to play on his lips. you return it, momentarily leaning into jon in a silent acknowledgment, before getting roped into grenns white-walker conspiracy theory.

the hours pass easily, greatly enjoying the boisterous atmosphere, the ale making you warm & floaty. you find it harder to keep your eyes off jon as the night goes on, and you almost internally chide yourself for it; until you recognize that every time you’ve stolen a glance at jon, he’s already been looking at you.

eventually, it gets late, and you want to turn in. the only reason jon’s been here so long is you anyways, so when he says his goodbyes along with you, silently following you out, you don’t pay it any mind. your tipsy brain clouds your judgement, and you wrap a hand around his bicep, the muscle underneath making you feel fuzzy.

jon only glances down to where you meet, afraid if he looks too long, you’ll get shy and pull away. and he really, really doesn’t want you to pull away.

you walk in silence until a thought occurs to you. you decide to push aside your pride and propriety, letting instead curiosity steer your tongue.

“So, Snow,” you begin, and he hums, propping you to go on. “Since you’ve won, what’ll it be?”

it seems that the ale isn’t just affecting you, because the question makes jon smile almost too easily. you want to see more of it, so you continue.

“A handshake… the clothes off my back… my soul…” you remark, and it gets you just want you wanted — jon shakes his head, smile not leaving his face.

“Not here,” he says, and he steers you both in the direction of the wall. what jon could possibly want that would need the privacy of the wall, you’re unsure (no you aren’t).

the walk there is quiet, the only sound being the wind flapping your coats. it only makes you more aware of the warmth emanating from jon, and you both pretend you don’t lean into each other. you only remove your hand from him as you approach the box, and he puts a hand on the small of your back to usher you in front of him. if jon would do so without the added ale is a thing that you question for only a moment, as the creaking of the box signals it’s begun ascent.

now you really are curious as to what jon could want. he’s an honorable man… does he need a secret kept? a new cloak? or does he just wish for a conversation in the solaced privacy of the wall?

the ride up feels shorter than usual, but you’re not sure what to blame it on. it’s a strange feeling, your nerves on fire, yet the ale douses it to a low buzz. you partially blame jon, always forgetting yourself when he’s present. how you ever hope to confront your feelings is beyond you.

when you step out, jon offers his arm this time, and you gladly accept it. perhaps you’re not the only one who finds comfort in the action.

you begin your walk, and based on the route, you think he’s taking you both to your favorite place. a quiet indent in the wall, close enough to not be a far walk, but long enough to get away from prying eyes and listening ears. it has a small wall of ice that acts as a (sort of) guard-rail, coming to the waist — but the rest is left open, the expanse of woods beyond the wall available to be gazed upon.

the quiet is comfortable, as it always is with jon. you have much on the tip of your tongue, but give him the courtesy of speaking first.

it’s not long before you’re approaching your little sanctuary; scattered black brothers are guarding the expanse of the wall behind you, and in front of you, but none linger around this area. the thought remains in the back of your mind as you make the turn, walking into the indent, the view beyond it making your breath hitch.

you remove your hand from jon’s arm, instead splaying it across the waist-high-iced-guard-rail. it’s freezing, even under your gloved hand, yet it’s a welcome respite from the way jon sets your nerves alight, turning your skin to fire. patience is hard, yet you wait for him to speak.

“What you said,” he begins. “about taking the risk,”

you turn to look at him, but this time, he doesn’t meet your eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lip, the way it does when he’s nervous. what could jon have to be nervous about?

“It made me think…”

whatever jon was going to say, you’re not sure you’ll ever know, because rapidly approaching footsteps have the words dying on his tongue — looking behind you both. who is running down the wall at this hour? and why?

a figure appears, out of breath and panting. sam.

“I looked for you! In the— in the mess hall, but— Grenn and Edd said you weren’t there, said you’d left,” you and jon must look as confused as you are, since when did sam run?

a grin erupts on sam’s face as he gets past his introduction. “I did it! I really did it!”

“Did what?” jon prompts, but you think he already knows.

“Gilly!” sam says, and you can feel your brows instantly un-crease themselves. “Well, I— you know, I was nervous. Didn’t want to ruin what we had or, or what she thought of me but.. I just sort of— went up to her and did it! I can’t believe she said yes…” he says, wistfully looking to the sky with a smile on his face, like he can’t believe the gods allowed it to happen, either. you wore one of your own, bathing in jon’s defeat.

sam looks at you both for a minute, then at jon, and the smile he’s wearing dies down as he realizes he’s interrupted. “Oh— oh, sorry… I’ll go now, I just—“ reality seems to hit him again, as another smile erupts on his face.

“I did it!” he says, then spins on his heel, leaving you both atop the wall.

a few moments pass, before you turn to look at jon. you both have a look of disbelief, yours mixed with a smile — and strangely enough, even in defeat, so is his.

“I’m thinking your rations for a month, the cloak you’re wearing...” you say, and jon huffs out a laugh (they come easier around you)

“What Sam did, is called blindsiding—“

“Hm,” you say, interrupting the end of his sentence. “It looks like defeat, instead. What were you going to demand, again?”

you’re only teasing, but you accidentally hit a soft spot. you see the way his smile falters, seriousness beginning its return to his face. it makes your own smile disappear.

“I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to…” you say, but once you see the expression on his face, something clicks. “What were you going to ask for, Jon?”

it seems like you’ve asked him to throw himself off the wall. he shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter.”

“To me it does.”

he begins to turn away from you, but your hand flies to his arm, halting him. he sighs in frustration. you try to catch his gaze, but he makes effort not to look at you.

“I won, and that’s what I ask.” you say, “For you to tell me what you wanted.”

you can see his internal turmoil, but that only makes you want to shrink away. what plagues jon so badly he dares not to speak it aloud? not speak of it to you?

you can tell he doesn’t want to say it, but a bet is a bet.

“You.”

your brows scrunch involuntarily. “Me?”

“I wanted to kiss you.” he says, his gaze flickering momentarily to your lips. “Want.”

your lips part in shock. not that he wants to kiss you (you’ve known. you want to kiss him) but that you’ve been able to coax him to say as much.

your gaze flicks to his lips once, twice, and you step closer — body almost flush with his. at the same time you reach up, jon leans down, and you connect your lips with his. they’re soft, warm; everything you thought they’d be when your thoughts would drift to him.

the kiss is sweet, tentative. exploring unknown territory, but also wanting — needing. you feel jon’s hand come to your waist, pulling you even closer (if possible), your body now flush against his.

eventually, the need to breathe takes over, and you both (reluctantly) pull apart. his cheeks are flushed, and you have an idea that it’s not from the cold this time. his pupils are blown, want pooling in them; but, also, something else swims in the midst. confusion.

“But— I lost,” he says, looking to you for an answer. you pretend to take mild offense, a playful roll of your eyes accompanying your words.

“You know, Jon, when someone gets kissed, they usually don’t consider it a loss.”

it seems to be the right answer, a smile tugging its way back up his lips. his response is him leaning down to kiss you again.

#game of thrones #jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow prompt #jon snow x you #hashtag #need that #idk why this just came to me #also i think this is (accidentally but not unwelcome) gn!reader #so lmk in the comments below if there’s anything gender implying pls and thank you #gn!reader

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megsironthrone · 2 years ago

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The Wildling and the Lady

Based on this request: Hey! Hope i’m not too late. How about one where the reader is a Tully and she escapes the Red Wedding. She ends up travelling for a bit, she ends up at the Wall looking for Jon as they were friendly and she meets Tormund who is taken by her (maybe he likes her Tully red hair or her survival or something) and he’s surprised she’s a Lady

Here you are, lovelies! *Familiar characters are NOT mine!*

Warnings: Fluff, brief mentions of the Red Wedding (no details)

Pairings/Characters: Tormund Giantsbane x fem!Tully reader, Jon Snow, Samwell Tarly

A sigh escaped your lips as the cold began seeping into your bones once more. You'd lost track of how long you'd been traveling and you were certain you looked a fright. When you'd first fled from The Twins after what had happened with your aunt and cousin, you had no idea where to go. You'd simply wanted to get away. You'd used the only bit of gold you'd had to buy a bow. After that, you kept moving. As you traveled further and further North, the air grew colder and game grew sparser. You were near freezing and starving, but you weren't going to stop.

Even through it all though, you couldn't fight the relief that coursed through you when you saw the Wall. Yes, you were a woman, but you had family there and maybe he could help you. You didn't despise Jon the way your aunt had. In fact, you were on pretty friendly terms with him. You only hoped he could help you now. If only for a little while.

The gated opened and Jon ran to you with a soft smile. As soon as you slid off your horse, you wrapped your arms around him. "I thought you'd died with Robb." You shook your head. "No. I was able to escape. No one paid much attention to me. I tried to convince Robb to leave, but you knew your brother." Jon nodded sadly.

"I know I shouldn't be here, but I had nowhere else to go. Nowhere safe anyway." Jon gave you a soft smile before gesturing to someone behind him. Two men approached you and Jon. The first was dark-haired and was a bit bigger round the middle than his companions. He looked like he would give the best hugs, honestly. But it was the second that really caught your eye. Tall, red of hair, with blue eyes that told you he was capable of mischief you never dreamed of. He looked positively wild and it intrigued you.

You greeted them both with a smile. Then you turned back to Jon. "Where is your companion?" he asked you. You felt the tall one's eyes on you as you replied, "Since when have I ever needed a companion? Besides I have no one left. I made my way here by myself." Jon rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. "Of course you did. You can stay in my chambers with Ghost until we can find somewhere suitable. I know you can take care of yourself, but I'd rather know you are safe." You nodded. You knew it was pointless to argue.

"Jon?" the dark-haired man asked. "Oh, right. Sam, Tormund, this is Lady Y/N of House Tully. Lady Catelyn's niece." You scoffed a little. "Y/N is fine. I don't care much for my title." You let your gaze fall on the red-haired man once more only to find him staring at you so intensely, it made you shiver.

You could feel his eyes on you as Jon led you inside. "Is that man a Wildling?" you asked Jon once you were inside. Jon smirked a bit and nodded. "Yes. Tormund Giantsbane. As fierce and loyal as they come, and also as wild. He's one of the Free Folk and proud of it. Looks frightening but means well." You didn't bother telling him that "frightened" was not what you felt when Tormund looked at you. Not in the slightest.

Tormund's POV

The next morning, Tormund rose early and made his way out into the cold courtyard of Castle Black. The first thing he noticed was the sound of someone training. Confused as he was usually the only one awake this time of morning, the Wildling made his way over. The next thing he noticed was Ghost sitting just outside the sparring ring. He thought it must be Jon up then.

To his surprise, when Tormund's gaze finally landed on the other person up so early, it wasn't Jon. It was you. You were moving with such speed and grace, Tormund couldn't help but be impressed. You certainly didn't act like any lady he'd ever met before.

"Are you going to stand there staring? Or are you going to join me?" your voice asked, pulling Tormund from his thoughts. You had stopped moving and were watching him with a raised brow. "These practice dummies offer no challenge, but surely you could," you challenged as a smirk spread across your lips. Tormund chuckled. "Ya sure ya want to be doing that?" You shrugged a bit which only caused Tormund's own smile to grow. "Alright then. Have yer way." Without giving you a chance to retort, Tormund lunged.

The two of you became intertwined in a dance of clashing steel. Back and forth you went, moving so quickly you were almost a blur. Tormund had to admit he'd met his match in you and he was loving every moment of it. Still, you weren't nearly as experienced as Tormund was so you found yourself on your backside. You beamed up at him as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Thank you," you said simply once you could breathe again. Tormund offered a hand to help you up. You took it, but didn't expect him to use quite as much strength to pull up which was obvious at your gasp as your chest met his. To Tormund's delight, you didn't look uneasy or embarrassed. Instead you let out a little chuckle before saying, "I wouldn't mind if you joined me again tomorrow."

"As the lady wishes." His tone was teasing and you seemed to know it. You rolled your eyes before backing away. "I look forward to it." You walked away while Tormund's eyes followed your form. "I like," he muttered to himself. If anyone looked at him in that moment, they would have seen the Wildling practically staring at you with hearts in his eyes.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @line-viper @etherealpotter @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @smalltownbigheart @gruffle1 @supernatural4life2022

#george r.r. martin #game of thrones #tormund giantsbane #tormund giantsbane x reader #tormund x reader

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godjustkys · 6 months ago

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╰┈➤ ❝ masterlist;

FANDOMS I WRITE FOR;

- Teen wolf

- Marvel Cinematic Universe

- Supernatural

- The Walking Dead (AMC)

- Merlin (BBC)

- Stranger things

- Dune

- Game of Thrones

- F.R.I.E.N.D.S

- The Maze Runner

- Lord of The Rings

- The Hobbit

- Harry Potter

- Brooklyn Nine-Nine

- IT

- Diary of a Wimpy Kid

- Dead Poet's Society

- Shameless

- Handsome Devil

- The Black Phone

- Sweet Home

- Arcane

- Spider-man Universe

- The Goldfinch

- The Last of Us

- The Beekeeper

- Weak Hero Class 1

- Bad and Crazy

ANIMES;

- Demon Slayer

- My Hero Academia

(the anime list will get updated as long as I continue watching anime.)

Characters I will to write for;

Teen wolf:

- Stiles Stilinski

Stiles Stilinski x top!m!reader (smut)

- Scott McCall

none yet..

- Derek Hale

none yet..

- Allison Argent

none yet..

- Lydia Martin

none yet..

- Isaac Lahey

none yet..

- Jackson Whittemore

none yet..

- Peter Hale

none yet..

- Malia Tate

none yet..

- Kira Yukimura

none yet..

- Liam Dunbar

none yet..

- Theo Raeken

none yet..

- Jordan Parrish

none yet..

- Erica Reyes

none yet..

- Ethan Steiner

none yet..

- Aiden Steiner

none yet..

- Christopher Argent

none yet..

- Mason Hewitt

none yet..

- Danny Mahealani

none yet..

Marvel Cinematic Universe:

- Tony Stark

none yet..

- Peter Parker

none yet..

- Bruce Banners

none yet..

- Thor Odinson

none yet..

- Loki Laufeyson

none yet..

- Steve Rogers

none yet..

- Natasha Romanoff

none yet..

- Stephen Strange

none yet..

- Wanda Maximoff

none yet..

- Clint Barton

none yet..

- Bucky Barnes

none yet..

- Carol Danvers

none yet..

- Shuri

none yet..

- Sam Wilson

none yet..

- Okoye

none yet..

- Wade Wilson

none yet..

- Pietro Maximoff

none yet..

- Vision

none yet..

- Yelena Belova

none yet..

- Peter Quill

none yet..

- Gamora

none yet..

- Nebula

none yet..

- Matt Murdock

none yet..

- Frank Castle

none yet..

- Xu Shang-chi

none yet..

- Eddie Brock

none yet..

Supernatural:

- Dean Winchester

'What a perv.' Dean x top!m!reader (smut)

- Sam Winchester

none yet..

- Castiel

none yet..

ALL; SUPERNATURAL HEADCANONS (NSFW)

(I have little knowledge of supernatural.)

The Walking Dead:

- Rick Grimes

none yet..

- Carl Grimes

none yet..

- Michonne

none yet..

- Negan

none yet..

- Daryl Dixon

male reader x daryl dixon (smut)

- Eugene

none yet..

- Rosita Espinosa

none yet..

- Maggie Greene

none yet..

- Glenn Rhee

none yet..

- Carol Peletier

none yet..

- Andrea

none yet..

- Gabriel Stokes

none yet..

- Dwight

none yet..

- Simon

none yet..

Merlin:

- Merlin

none yet..

- Arthur Pendragon

none yet..

- Morgana Pendragon

none yet..

- Guinevere

none yet..

- Lancelot

none yet..

- Mordred

none yet..

- Gwaine

none yet..

- Percival

none yet..

- Elyan

none yet..

- Leon

none yet..

Strangers things:

- Mike Wheeler

none yet..

- Nancy Wheeler

none yet..

- Will Byers

none yet..

- Jonathan Byers

none yet..

- Joyce Byers

none yet..

- Jim Hopper

none yet..

- Jane 'Eleven' Hopper

none yet..

- Lucas Sinclair

none yet..

- Dustin Henderson

none yet..

- Steve Harrington

none yet..

- Maxine Mayfield

none yet..

- Billy Hargrove

none yet..

- Dmitri 'Enzo' Antonov

none yet..

- Eddie Munson

none yet..

- Henry Creel

none yet..

- Robin Buckley

none yet..

Dune:

ALL; stranger things headcanons.. pt 1.

- Paul Atreides

none yet..

- Leto Atreides

none yet..

- Chani

none yet..

- Feyd-Rautha

none yet..

- Duncan Idaho

none yet..

- Stilgar

none yet..

Game of Thrones:

- Ned Stark

none yet..

- Catelyn Stark

none yet..

- Robb Stark

none yet..

- Jon Snow

none yet..

- Theon Greyjoy

none yet..

- Sansa Stark

none yet..

- Arya Stark

none yet..

- Tywin Lannister

none yet..

- Jaime Lannister

none yet..

- Cersei Lannister

none yet..

- Tyrion Lannister

none yet..

- Tommen Baratheon

none yet..

- Joffrey Baratheon

none yet..

- Daenerys Targaryen

none yet..

- Jorah Mormont

none yet..

- Sandor Clegane

none yet..

- Samwell Tarly

none yet..

- Margaery Tyrell

none yet..

- Tormund Giantsbane

none yet..

- Brienne of Tarth

none yet..

- Podrick

none yet..

- Ramsay Bolton

none yet..

- Jaqen H'ghar

none yet..

- Grey Worm

none yet..

F.R.I.E.N.D.S:

- Rachel Greene

none yet..

- Phoebe Buffay

none yet..

- Monica Geller

none yet..

- Ross Geller

none yet..

- Chandler Bing

none yet..

- Joey Tribbiani

Joey Tribbiani dating headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

The Maze Runner:

- Thomas

none yet..

- Newt

none yet..

- Minho

none yet..

- Gally

none yet..

- Frypan

none yet..

- Aris

none yet..

- Janson

none yet..

Lord of The Rings:

- Frodo Baggins

none yet..

- Samwise Gamgee

none yet..

- Pippin Took

none yet..

- Merry Brandybuck

none yet..

- Aragorn

none yet..

- Legolas

none yet..

- Boromir

none yet..

- Faramir

none yet..

- Galadriel

none yet..

- Arwen

none yet..

- Éowyn

none yet..

- Éomer

none yet..

The Hobbit:

- Bilbo Baggins

none yet..

- Thorin Oakenshield

none yet..

- Kili Durin

none yet..

- Fili Durin

none yet..

- Tauriel

none yet..

- King Thranduil

none yet..

- Elrond

none yet..

Harry Potter:

- Harry Potter

none yet..

- Hermione Granger

none yet..

- Ron Weasley

none yet..

- Fred Weasley

none yet..

- George Weasley

none yet..

- Draco Malfoy

none yet..

- Blaise Zabini

none yet..

- Oliver Wood

none yet..

- Seamus Finnigan

none yet..

- Luna Lovegood

none yet..

- Neville Longbottom

none yet..

- Dean Thomas

none yet..

- Severus Snape

none yet..

- Sirius Black

none yet..

- Regulus Black

none yet..

- Remus Lupin

none yet..

- James Potter

none yet..

- Lily Potter

none yet..

- Bill Weasley

none yet..

- Bellatrix Lestrange

none yet..

- Cedric Diggory

none yet..

- Lucius Malfoy

none yet..

- Narcissa Malfoy

none yet..

Brooklyn Nine-Nine:

- Jake Peralta

none yet..

- Amy Santiago

none yet..

- Charles Boyle

none yet..

- Gina Linetti

none yet..

- Rosa Diaz

none yet..

- Terry Jeffords

none yet..

- Ray Holt

none yet..

IT:

- Richie Tozier

none yet..

- Eddie Kaspbrak

none yet..

- Beverly Marsh

none yet..

- Bill Denbrough

none yet..

- Stanley Uris

none yet..

- Ben Hanscom

none yet..

- Mike Hanlon

none yet..

- Henry Bowers

none yet..

- Patrick Hockstetter

none yet..

Diary of a wimpy kid:

- Greg Heffley

none yet..

- Rodrick Heffley

none yet..

Dead Poet's Society:

- Neil Perry

none yet..

- Todd Anderson

none yet..

- Charlie Dalton

none yet..

- Knox Overstreet

none yet..

- Steven Meeks

none yet..

- John Keating

none yet..

Shameless:

- Fiona Gallagher

none yet..

- Lip Gallagher

none yet..

- Ian Gallagher

none yet..

- Debbie Gallagher

none yet..

- Carl Gallagher

none yet..

- Liam Gallagher

none yet..

- Mickey Milkovich

none yet..

- Mandy Milkovich

none yet..

- Kevin Ball

none yet..

- Veronica Fisher

none yet..

- Jimmy Lishman

none yet..

- Karen Jackson

none yet..

Handsome Devil:

- Ned Roche

none yet..

- Conor Masters

none yet..

- Dan Sherry

none yet..

The Black Phone:

- Finney Blake

none yet..

- Robin Arellano

none yet..

- Vance Hopper

none yet..

- Bruce Yamada

none yet..

- Billy

none yet..

- Griffin

none yet..

Sweet home:

- Cha Hyun-su

none yet..

- Lee Eun-hyuk

none yet..

- Pyeon Sang-wook

none yet..

- Jung Jae-heon

none yet..

- Seo Yi-kyung

none yet..

- Lee Eun-yu

none yet..

- Yoon Ji-su

none yet..

- Jung Ui-Myeong

none yet..

Arcane:

- Jinx

none yet..

- Vi

none yet..

- Viktor

none yet..

- Caitlyn

none yet..

- Silco

none yet..

- Sevika

none yet..

- Ekko

none yet..

- Vander

none yet..

- Mel

none yet..

- Jayce

none yet..

Spider-Man Universe:

- Peter Parker (A. G.)

none yet..

- Peter Parker (T. M.)

none yet..

- Peter B. Parker

none yet..

- Miles Morales (Earth 1610)

none yet..

- Miles Morales (Earth 42)

none yet..

- Miguel O'Hara

none yet..

- Hobie Brown

none yet..

- Pavitr Prabhakar

none yet..

- Gwen Stacy

none yet..

The Goldfinch:

- Boris Pavlikovsky

none yet..

- Theodore Decker

none yet..

The Last of Us:

- Ellie Williams

none yet..

- Joel Miller

none yet..

- Tommy Miller

none yet..

- Tess Servopoulos

none yet..

- Abby Anderson

none yet..

- Dina Woodward

none yet..

- Lev

none yet..

- Yara

none yet..

- Jesse Pinkman

none yet..

- Manny

none yet..

- Owen

none yet..

- Mel

none yet..

The Beekeeper:

- Derek Danforth

none yet..

- Adam Clay

none yet..

Weak Hero Class 1:

- Yeon Si-eun

none yet..

- Oh Beom-seok

none yet..

- Ahn Su-ho

none yet..

- Park Hu-min

none yet..

- Kang Woo-young

none yet..

- Jeon Seok-dae

none yet..

Bad and Crazy:

- Ryu Soo-Yeol

none yet..

- Do In-beom

none yet..

- K

none yet..

- Oh Kyung-Tae

none yet..

- Boss Yong

none yet..

- Andrei Kang

none yet..

Demon slayer:

- Tanjiro Kamado

none yet..

- Nezuko Kamado

none yet..

- Zenitsu Agatsuma

none yet..

- Inosuke Hashibira

none yet..

- Genya Shinazugawa

none yet..

- Kanao Tsuyuri

none yet..

- Aoi

none yet..

- Shinobu Kocho

none yet..

- Tomioka Giyuu

none yet..

- Rengoku Kyojuro

none yet..

- Uzui Tengen

none yet..

- Mitsuri Kanroji

none yet..

- Obanai Iguro

none yet..

- Shinazugawa Sanemi

none yet..

- Muichiro Tokito

none yet..

- Gyomei Himejima

none yet..

- Muzan Kibutsuji

none yet..

- Akaza

none yet..

- Douma

none yet..

- Gyutaro

none yet..

- Daki

none yet..

- Kokushibo

none yet..

- Murata

none yet..

HASHIRA; hashira headcanons, pt.1 (angst)

My Hero Academia:

- Izuku Midoriya

none yet..

- Katsuki Bakugou

none yet..

- Shoto Todoroki

none yet..

- Tenya Iida

none yet..

- Ochako Uraraka

none yet..

- Denki Kaminari

none yet..

- Eijirou Kirishima

none yet..

- Tokoyami Fumikage

none yet..

- Shoji Mezo

none yet..

- Momo Yaoyorozu

none yet..

- Hanta Sero

none yet..

- Kyoka Jirou

none yet..

- Mashirao Ojirou

none yet..

- Mina Ashido

none yet..

- Yuga Aoyama

none yet..

- Monoma Neito

none yet..

- Shinsou Hitoshi

none yet..

- Rumi Usagiyama

none yet..

- Keigo Takami

none yet..

- Aizawa Shouta

none yet..

- Hizashi Yamada

none yet..

- Oboro Shirakumo

none yet..

- Touya Todoroki

none yet..

- Tomura Shigaraki

none yet..

- Toga Himiko

none yet..

- Jin Bubaigawara

none yet..

adding anime back cause I watched demon slayer,,, :3

54 notes · View notes

pastanest · 2 years ago

Text

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

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.

______

taglist: @otteropera @neymarjrrwife @oliviabelova

#jon snow #jon snow imagine #jon snow x reader #game of thrones #x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons

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damn-stark · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 17 When you believe

Chapter 17 of Sandstorm

A/N- Practice did them good, that’s all I’m saying ;)

Warning- Swearing, FLUFF, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*15 YEARS LATER*

“Your Grace,” he bows his head and then slowly drifts his gaze to your left side and parts his lips but doesn’t say anything, as if debating whether to acknowledge who stands by your throne. “…Princess,” he finally adds and straightens up.

You draw out an exhausted breath and press the man. “State your business, Lord Umber.”

The old man slides the hat off his head and clutches it in front of him as he holds your gaze. “I am sorry for the disturbance, My Queen, but I don’t know what else to do. It’s the Wildlings, they’ve—”

“Freefolk,” the young girl at your left side cuts him off to correct him. “If you’ve come here to complain then please address them correctly.”

You can’t help the proud smirk that tugs on your face as you look at your left side to share the gesture with your eldest daughter, and heir, Rhaenyra.

She notices from the corner of her eyes and passes a soft smirk before you’re both forced to listen to the man complain about the Freefolk, as a lot of Northerners often do. You’d think after a decade of the Freefolk being apart of the Kingdoms, the people would stop being so judgemental, but no, they continue to whine.

“The Freefolk,” the man corrects himself. “Summer snow has struck the North, and I know it’s nothing to worry about here, but it is over there. They do nothing but steal like wild ravagers. I want them out of my lands. It’s time the Crown does something about them.”

It’s always the same thing over and over again. It’s fucking annoying.

“Freefolk business is to be dealt with Princess Sansa Stark,” you remind the man of a law that’s been set for 15 years.

The Lord nods and shuffles forward, making sure to be cautious of the swords that align the steps that lead to the Throne. “I have gone to the Princess of the North, but I always end up with the same response that nothing can be done. That’s why I have come here personally.”

You nod and sigh, wanting this to be over, but you just shift in the seat and continue to address his problem. “My Lord, have the Freefolk robbed you personally? Because if they have then it is to be brought with Princess Sansa Stark, there are laws that need to be followed, including them. So if they have robbed you, beaten you, or done any destruction to your lands then please say so.”

The Lord twists his hat and glances at the Lord Hand below the steps, and then at the Grand Maester at the other side and finally meets your gaze again and nods, letting you know all you needed to know, it’s all bullshit.

“They’ve gotten to steal from our flocks,” the man shares. “Every other night, one goes missing or one wakes up all dead and covered in blood. How am I meant to keep my people fed? I want justice.”

Gods.

You sigh and nod softly. “All right, well I’ll write to Princess Sansa Stark, I will tell her to send two Knights to your land and stand guard for a week. If you are right then the Freefolk at fault will face trial, if not then you may rest easy and know it was not them.”

The Lord nods and then bows his head. “Thank you, Your Grace. I know that I will be right.”

You hum and offer the man a tiny smile that lasts until he’s out of the sunlit throne room. “All right,” you sigh and stand up from that hard ass throne. “Well my Lord Hand that is all for today. Thank you.”

The Lord hand bows and takes his leave, letting you turn to Grand Maester Samwell Tarly. “Grand Maester, may you send Princess Sansa a raven and let her know what we’ve discussed here today please.”

The man bows his head. “Of course, right away your Grace.” He then scurries off, letting you walk down the steps and then head to the courtyard with Rhaenyra beside you, and four Queensguard behind you.

“I bet it’s just a pack of wolves getting into his flock,” Rhaenyra interjects when you leave the throne room. “It’s rare now to hear of the Freefolk doing any harm.”

You scoff. “Yes, that’s exactly my thoughts, but you know,” you sigh. “People are still prejudice about the unknown. They’re scared. But the key thing to do in these cases is…” you trail off and let her finish.

“Have patience,” Rhaenyra fills in.

You smile and meet her pretty dark eyes that match Jon’s. “Exactly, even when they cry wolf.”

Rhaenyra tries not to, but she can’t help but giggle.

You grin and look ahead. “Pun very much intended.”

Rhaenyra scoffs; and you know she rolls her eyes.

“Still he came all this way,” Rhaenyra adds. “I wonder how much of his flock is left now. With luck all so he can learn his lesson about whining.”

“With luck,” you retort. “None are dead or else he will come back and give us headaches.”

“I suppose you are right,” Rhaenyra agrees.

“Aren't I always?” You tease.

Rhaenyra stays quiet, causing you to look at her with a playful narrowed glare. She meets your gaze and simply shrugs.

“Father says it’s okay to be wrong,” she counters smugly. “There’s no mistake or shame in it.”

You wrap your arm around her shoulders and shake your head. “But I am your mother and the Queen, I am never wrong. My word is law. Literally.”

Rhaenyra scoffs softly. “Father says even rulers can be wrong.”

You beam at her and press your forehead against hers. “Very good. Your father has taught you well.”

She’s come a long way from being sharp tongued and short tempered. Well some of it still resides within her, but now that she’s been at your side more in your royal duties, she’s started to mature. It both saddens and fills you with joy because you don’t wish her to get any older than she already is, but you also can’t help but feel proud.

“As have you, mother,” she assures you.

You hum softly and then press a kiss on the side of her head before you let go and walk out to the runway that overlooks the training courtyard below. And the moment you walk out you’re welcomed with the sound of metal singing as it clashes against one another, you hear playful training yard squabble, and instructions that come from Jon.

When you approach the railing you stop when you’re above a pair of boys training with swords. You rest your hands against the railing and watch as your son, Ryuu, shove his older brother off his feet with a swift lunge before he spins around him and trips him. He’s only 13, and Jon and Ser Brienne say he’s showing great potential; he’s beaten Jon a couple already in training.

“You’ve frozen up again, young Prince,” Ser Brienne scolds your older son on the ground. “Stop tensing up and watching. Watch and act.”

You lean closer and watch as Ryuu jumps up and down in celebration to his success, making the black curls on his head bounce.

“No celebrating,” Ser Brienne scolds the boy. “Focus.”

Ryuu stops and clears his throat. “Right sorry.” He walks around his brother and offers him his hand. “You did well, Daeron.” He compliments the 15 year old. “Nice switch.”

Daeron sighs and meets his brother's dark eyes that also match Jon’s eye color, and then takes his hand to let his brother help him to his feet.

“Thanks,” Daeron responds with disappointment as he begins to walk back to his spot across from Ryuu.

“You almost got me,” Ryuu counters and twists around to face Daeron. “Almost,” he jokes, with a smirk you know plays on his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” Daeron chuckles. “Just pay attention little boy. You won’t get me now.”

You smile at his good sportsmanship and watch as he fixes his grip around his sword's handle. And as if he can sense your gaze, he looks up and his green eyes meet your gaze. He offers you a soft smile that you quickly mirror.

“Good job,” you mouth to him.

Daeron’s smile widens, causing Ryuu to follow his line of gaze and notice you now too.

“Mother, have you come to see me beat Daeron?” He quips with a playful grin.

You shrug. “Maybe I’ve come to challenge you,” you remark.

Ryuu flashes you a grin. “I’d like that.”

You shoot him a wink and push yourself back to continue on, hearing him Ryuu taunt his brother. “I thought you were flirting with a girl for a second, but how can that be when you’re such a mommas boy.”

“Ryuu,” you warn him without looking over at him.

“Mother,” you hear him call back.

Before you can climb down the stairs to join the training yard below you turn to face Rhaenyra. “The business is all done for today, my girl, you may go change and join your siblings if that pleases you.”

Rhaenyra glances down below and watches everyone training for a few seconds before she meets your gaze and interjects. “Actually, may I go out and be with my dragon today?”

You nod without hesitation. “Of course. Go on, soar the skies. Just remember, strap up, and be careful okay?”

Rhaenyra flashes you a smile before she spins around and rushes off to do as she said, letting you turn to hobble down the stairs.

And just as you turn into the training yard you catch your youngest son and child, Aemon, miss the target a few feet ahead of him and hit some weapon rack instead. Because of it his two older sisters watching him begin to laugh.

“Which one of you was a marksman at 8?” You cut them off, catching all of their attention.

“I was,” Edria, your 11 year old daughter, counters smugly.

You scoff softly, and Oraena, the youngest daughter rebuttals her sister that’s only a year older than her. “You still wet your bed at 8.”

Edria gasps and turns her head slowly to face her sister with annoyance, before she leans over and shoves her playfully, making Oraena chuckle before she pushes Edria back. That makes Edria want to hit her arm, but Oraena runs off before she can be touched, making her sister chase after her around the training yard.

“There they go,” you comment under your breath and watch them for a moment before you look at Aemon. “You, my boy are okay,” you assure the sweet boy. “Now hair out of your face, maybe that’s why you’re missing.”

Aemon rolls his eyes, and then holds the bow between his legs to tie his wavy white-silver hair back to a bun that matched Jon’s. After he’s done he faces you and begins to sign with his hands what he wants to say since he can't speak. “Now, can father and I continue?”

You nod. “Go on. Shoot.” You tell him and point the target with your head.

Aemon grabs his bow again and takes an arrow to try again, and while he does you then look at Jon close to Aemon and walk to him with a smile.

The moment you close the gap between one another he grabs you by the back of your neck and gives you a kiss, making you cup his cheeks to deepen the steamy gesture.

“I missed you,” you say between kisses even if you had seen him not so long ago.

Jon smirks. “I missed you too.” He says back and you only move more in sync as if you have never ever kissed one another before.

Honestly as you gotten older you have only grown more passionate about each other…maybe that’s why you have six biological children. And why Aemon was such a surprise when you found out you were with child.

Perhaps if you had gotten together sooner than you’d have more. But then again you’re also glad you don’t have more, raising seven kids is a hassle and a frequent headache.

Regardless, when you pull apart Jon and wipes your lips with his thumb and interrogates you. “How was it?”

You sigh. “You know it was eventful…as always. Lord Umber came.”

Jon blinks in surprise and narrow his gaze. “Lord Umber?” He repeats. “Whatever for?”

“You’ll like this,” you say sarcastically. “He came to complain about the Freefolk.”

Jon rolls his eyes and sighs out of annoyance. “I swear one single Freefolk can pass by minding their business and people complain. When will it end? I can’t imagine how much Sansa has to hear about it.”

You chuckle and nod. “But that’s why she has Mors, he helps her keep level headed.”

Jon smiles softly and nods. “You are right.”

You shoot him a smirk. “I always am. I was right about them.”

Jon scoffs, but before he can say anything back, the sound of a stomping foot steals your attention to Aemon.

“Can you two stop,” he signs with annoyance expressing in his dark eyes. “You can kiss later when I’m not here. It’s gross.”

Jon and you chuckle. “Fine,” you give in. “I’ll go, leave you two men here. Just remember, dragon training later.”

Aemon nods in comprehension before he turns back to focus on his target practice with Jon.

“Just don’t think too much about it,” Jon advises the boy. “And relax your bow arm. Okay?”

You smile in awe as Jon walks to Aemon to help him with his stance, and stand there to watch. A few seconds pass and this time when Aemon shoots he hits the edge of the target.

“Good,” Jon tells the smiling boy. “That’s better.”

You smile wider and linger there watching as Aemon high-fives his father.

Some would say that your relationship with your children shouldn’t be as strong as it, some say only the father should truly bond with their sons, but fuck all that. Jon wants to be close to all his kids, every single one of them, you do too. Others also say that you should send them away, only keep the heir here and have the others be wards or do something else, they especially encourage you to send Daeron away, but your heart can’t bare sending him away, you can’t send any of your kids anyway, besides what can other people teach them that you and Jon can’t?

Besides, you don’t trust anyone else to raise your children. Sure dealing with royal duties and children is difficult, but Jon is a big help, your court helps as well with royal duties, that’s why you have them. You can juggle both things, you enjoy it. And why have a big family if half of them are gone?

That’s why they’re all still here, that’s why you’re close to all of them. Or as close as you can be.

If Rhaenar were still here…the family would have been even bigger, he’d be a grown man with kids of his own….

Tears fill your eyes but you don’t cry, instead you turn away and walk to Daeron and Ryuu, noticing Ryuu lose this time because he was distracted by Samwell Tarly's youngest boy, Jon, passing by.

Daeron also notices that and then looks at you to share a teasing look you mirror. Ryuu only focuses back when you approach Daeron to help him.

“Hand less tense,” you advise him. “And make sure your feet are not so spread apart.” You use your own foot to push his legs closer together. “And…” you trail off and pull his arm closer to him. “There better.”

Daeron takes note of his stance and then looks at you and gives you a thankful nod. “Thank you mother,” he whispers.

You shoot him a smile and stand back. “Go on, show me.” You encourage, but as you watch them match again, you notice the judgmental stares the passerbyers give Daeron. Albeit when they catch you glaring at them they look away and go back to what they were doing.

Sure it’s obvious that Daeron isn’t your kid, nor may he look like a Baratheon like Daenerys wanted everyone to believe. Sure his eyes are green unlike your children’s who all inherited Jon's dark eyes. Daeron may be tall and slim because he resembles his real father, Daario. Sure Daeron doesn’t have that common Targaryen silver hair, but neither does Robb, Ryuu, Edria or Oraena. Yes his nose is aquiline like that of some of your Targaryen ancestors, he has that Targaryen beauty. But that doesn’t make Daeron any less of your child or their prince. Anyone who wants to argue against that can come speak to you and Eraxis. Simple.

“Have either of you seen Robb?” You ask the two boys once they finish their match. “I’m surprised he isn’t here.”

Daeron and Ryuu share a secret look before Daeron shares what he knows. “He’s off brooding somewhere.”

“Yes,” Ryuu bounces off his brother's comment. “He woke up in a very foul mood today. He’s at the cove.”

You hum and nod in comprehension before you part away to go there right away.

After a long walk to the cove behind the castle you find your eldest son, Robb sitting on the sand throwing shells in the water.

“Robb,” you make your presence known, even though you knew he heard you climbing down the stone steps.

Albeit even if you spoke he still doesn’t look back, he drops the shells from his hands and just watches the waves crashing on the shore in front of his boots.

“I didn’t see you with your father and your siblings at the training yard,” you continue as you slowly approach him. “Is everything okay? You like training.”

Robb lets out a deep sigh and drops his head, letting his black hair fall over his eyes. “It’s okay, you wouldn't understand.”

Oh, so we’re at that stage now.

You sigh and stop just behind him to take your shoes off before you sit beside him on the sand. “I can maybe try and understand then,” you press him softly. “Please.”

Robb blinks and keeps his head down, he stays quiet for a few more seconds before he swallows thickly and then interjects quietly. “I…I’m not like you. I’ve tried and I’ve tried to be like everyone else, but no matter how much I try I still fail. I’m…a disappointment. To you and father.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and feel as if your heart sinks at the sound of his words. “In what way?” You probe and cup the back of his head. “Because all I see is someone who’s trying, someone who’s growing up. You’re still young Robb. You will fail and that’s okay. That’s how we all learn.”

Robb slowly lifts his head and meets your gaze with tears clouding his eyes. “But I don’t have a dragon, mother. Everyone else does, even father. Mine failed to be born to me. How does that look? The Targaryen prince who can’t have the one thing that makes us special?” He shakes his head and pushes your hand off his bead. “While you and father and all my other siblings fly I sit there watching, while you train with your dragons, I continue to sit there!”

You sigh deeply and feel your eyes fill with tears as you remember having a similar conversation with Rhaenar once. “You know,” you mutter and glance out at the crashing blue waves. “One time, before you were born. I had a very similar conversation with your older brother Rhaenar….he was afraid that his dragon egg wouldn’t be born to him because he was only half Targaryen….” You pause and glance down at your hands. “Do you want to know what I told him?”

Robb drifts his gaze to you and hums to press you for more.

You muster a small smile and then meet Robb’s dark eyes. “That it wouldn’t matter if it was born to him or not because he is still a Targaryen, because he still is great. That’s all that matters, so I tell you this now, my boy. It doesn’t matter if you bond with a dragon or not. It doesn’t,” you shake your head. “I won’t love you any less. Your father and your siblings won’t.”

Robb scoffs. “Father doesn’t love me as much.”

You lean towards him and counter. “Nonsense, your father loves you, but you are the one to blame for the distance with your father. He’s trying to reach out to you and at every attempt you push him away.”

Robb stays quiet knowing you’re right, letting you once again cup the back of his head.

“You don’t need a dragon to be great. That comes from here,” you say and point at his chest. “There are some brave men who turned out to be not so great even with dragons. And there are others who didn’t have a dragon ever and are legends; like your name-sake, your uncle Robb. He was a hero, a legend and a King and he had no dragon.” You smile and begin to caress the back of his head with your thumb. “Your uncle Tormund is a great warrior and a hero, and he also has no dragon. Ser Jaime was a great swordsman and had no dragon. I can go on and on and name personal hero’s I know that had no dragons and are still legends.”

Robb shakes his head softly. “But you do, and you’ve stopped three rebellions already during your reign as Queen because of Eraxis.”

You nod softly, knowing you can’t deny those claims. “That’s true. But are you me?”

Robb scoffs softly in amusement and shakes his head. “No.”

“Nor I do want you to be me, or your father,” you continue to assure him. “You don’t need a dragon. Daeron doesn’t have a dragon either.”

Robb huffs and averts his gaze before spatting, “Daeron is not my brother.”

Your eyes widen and you quickly argue back against him. “Don’t say that. Daeron is your brother. I may not have birthed him, but he is your relative, he is just as much of a Targaryen as you and your siblings. He is your brother, I wish you would stop arguing against that.”

Robb drops his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

You swallow thickly and don’t dwell on that topic any longer, instead you return to your previous conversation. “All I’m trying to say is that, you are not and will be any less of a Tagaryen if you don’t have a dragon. Now being great, that’s all up to you.”

Robb glances out at the water before he looks up at the sky as the sapphire-blue dragon is spotted miles above the water, lost in the clouds.

“I suppose you’re right,” Robb agrees quietly and a bit unsurely.

“I tend to be so,” you joke, making Robb side-eye you before he snickers.

“Yes,” he agrees. “You are.”

You beam. “At least someone sees it.”

The corner of Robb’s lips tug to a soft smile, but it doesn’t last long because it then begins to fall and go serious again. “Uncle Bran…” Robb mentions. “Said that he’s seen my late brother's dragon, Helios, at Dragonstone…can I go and try to claim him? Drogon also tends to be there uncle Bran says, so can I please try once?”

You’ve heard what happens if people don’t bond with dragons when they attempt to do it, it doesn’t end well. But who would you be if you deny him?

“All right,” you give in, “but…we will all go with you. You know what happens if a dragon doesn’t want to bond with a rider. So just in case something goes wrong we will be there to protect you….I couldn’t bear it you didn’t come back.”

Robb flashes you a faint grin. “All right…thank you mummy.”

You mirror his gesture but you then lean in and press a kiss on the side of his head.

Robb groans and gently pushes you away and grumbles, “mother, please.” His cheeks turn a tint of pink and he looks back to see if your Knights standing guard at the entrance of the cove saw.

You giggle. “I’m sorry. Now,” you sigh and stand up. “Come on. Let’s head inside. You can train with your sisters today.”

Robb pushes himself to his feet and rolls his eyes as he groans in protests. “Ugh, they’re terrible. They never focus.”

——

*LATER*

No matter how busy a day can be, no matter if there’s guests staying at the castle, Jon and you eat dinner with all of your kids. As chaotic as they can be all together, even if they have poor table manners when it’s just you, it’s the one thing you looked forward to the most.

It’s also Jon’s favorite part of the day now that you don’t have to deal with them as little children you have to help feed.

Albeit the one thing that does annoy you is sitting down to eat, you’d think that they’d have a favorite chair, but they fight about the seats. Always.

Like now for example, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes down the hall, whilst Jon insists on helping you to your seat because he says that you put enough weight on your leg that never fully healed after that battle where Gendry broke it.

“It doesn’t hurt as much today,” you assure him with a smile. “I sat for most of the day.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jon counters. “Now stop complaining.”

You shoot him a grin while the doors get pushed opened and in comes running footsteps.

“No,” you recognize Edria grumble. “Aemon I sit there! Get…”

“Ahaha!” Oraena laughs evilly, and when you peer back you see she had snuck around them and taken the seat next to Jon. You also can’t miss her pink and purple hatchling perched on her shoulder.

“Bitch.”

“Edria,” you warn her as you let Jon go and sit on the head chair.

“Sorry mother.” Edria mutters and bows her head before taking the seat next to her sister, making poor baby Aemon walk around the table.

“Here,” you pat the empty seat at your right side since the left one was where Jon sits. “You can sit next to me.”

Aemon’s chest falls and he sits down as if he was forced to do so.

“What?” You remark playfully. “You don’t want to sit next to your mother? Does the Queen intimidate you?” You giggle as you see him slowly begin to grin.

As the food begins to get placed down on the tables surface the four eldest walk in—or only Rhaenyra and Ryuu walk in gracefully because Robb and Daeron come running in shoving each other to see who can reach the seat all the way across from you, because it makes them feel…special?

Who knows really. They just always fight over it.

But in all reality they shouldn’t because it’s meant to be Jon’s seat, but you didn’t like how far he was from you so he took a different seat. And then after that it was meant to be for Rhaenyra considering she’s the eldest, but the boys got to fighting so she takes whatever seat is open. Which in this case is next to Aemon and across from Oraena.

“Oraena,” you call out as you ignore the two eldest boys still fighting over the seat to glance at your youngest daughter, and the one that’s turning out to look just like your mother, Elia. Which is a blessing, but it is also a curse at the same time because it does hurt your heart a bit because you still miss your mother so much.

“What did we say about hatchlings at the dinner table?” You tell Oraena.

The girl makes sure that both Jon and you are paying attention to her before she parts her lips to argue. “He can’t be without me. Daddy you know that, I’ve told you.”

You sigh and shake your head. “He needs to start learning, O, he can’t be perched on your shoulder forever.”

“He won’t,” she rebuttals sassily. “That would be impossible.”

You draw in a deep breath and drift your eyes to your left to ask Jon for help since he’s always the solution when it comes to dealing with Oraena.

“Your mothers right, O, he can’t be here. He needs to start learning to be more independent. But it’s a long way back to your quarters, so have this be the last time.”

Oraena beams at him. “Thanks daddy.”

Well that’s as good as that’s going to get.

Now hoping the other dilemma is dealt with, you look ahead. And thankfully the boys are seated already with Robb being the one who won the seat across from you, and Daeron sitting next to Ryuu. So now you can finally begin with dinner.

“Now that we’re all seated,” Jon interjects while the last meal is placed across from him. “Let us join in prayer.”

You all grab each other's hands around the table and duck your heads to do as Jon requested.

And you weren’t one much for prayer or religion, but Jon was, and ever since winning the grande war for the throne, he’s made sure to pray as a family before eating. At first it was to give thanks to his gods that you made it out alive. But as the family grew his prayer changed. Now every single evening he thanks his gods for this life he was blessed with, all his kids, and you. Every single day it's the same prayer.

One time Edria asked why it was the same thing every single night, and he put it simply, that once when he was a young man in the Night's Watch, even when he was a boy, he never thought that having a family of his own would ever be a possibility. So now that he has it he thanks the gods that he was blessed, that it's real and it’s not all a dream he has to wake up from.

He made you cry that day he said that.

Alas, now after prayer the eating begins. It’s usually filled with chatter, or depending on the day it’s quiet and calm. Today a few minutes in Edria interjects.

“I have a very important question, for you both mother…” she trails off and glances at Jon taking a bite of his chicken. “Father.”

You put your silverware down and probe with a curious look. “Okay, share it then.”

Edria puts her cup down and shifts in her seat to face both Jon and you better, in doing so showing the scar on her face that she got from secretly sparring with some man twice her age in a competition. She was 10. It was red for weeks, and she was ashamed of it because she said it ruined her beauty because it was long and cut from the bridge of her nose down to the corner of her jaw. But now she’s grown to love the scar.

“How does a woman have a child?” Edria asks seriously, causing Jon to choke on his food, and for the four eldest kids to snicker at both Jon and their curious sister.

“Yes, please tell us,” Ryuu cuts in mischievously.

You let out a shaky breath, and ignore Ryuu. “Uh, why do you ask?” You ask Edria nervously since this is so out of the blue.

“The milkmaid is with child,” Edria explains with her eyes wide as she grows bewildered. “And she’s only 15! 15! and she has no husband.” She falls back in her seat and continues to look at Jon and you.

“Well,” you help her since Jon is taken back that his 11 year old girl is asking such questions. “One doesn’t need to be married to have a child.”

Oraena gasps and leans in to slam her hands agasint the table. “What? So does that mean that I can be with child? I kissed the stable man’s son!”

The four oldest laugh harder, while Jon gasps and snaps his head to the side to shoot her a shocked and angry look.

“Oraena,” he says sharply.

You giggle at the innocence of her worry and shake your head as you grab Jon’s hand to give it an assuring squeeze. “No, silly girl. You don’t get to be with a child by kissing. But how about Edria, you and me talk after dinner about that stuff okay?”

“I can draw you a picture about how it’s done, sweet little sister,” Robb jokes as he leans over towards Edria.

Jon’s gaze snaps to Robb’s and he snaps back. “You won’t do no such thing.”

Robb sits back and snickers as he fist bumps Daeron who also finds amusement in it.

“You can draw it for me,” you hear Ryuu whisper to his brother over the table.

A tap then hits the table at your right, and Aemon begins to sign when you look at him. “Can I know too?”

You part your lips to answer, but Jon does so before you. “I can tell you when you’re older, buddy. Okay?”

Aemon let’s out a deep exhale and nods along slowly, making Jon offer him a soft smile, and for you to end this conversation.

“Now let’s put those matters to bed and focus on another thing, Robb,” you pull him in the conversation. “Why don’t you share with us what we planned earlier, hm?” You grab your silverware again to continue eating.

Robb sets his things down to begin rubbing his knees nervously. “Well since I don’t have a dragon…I want to go to Dragonstone to try and bond with Helios. Uncle Bran says he lives there, so I want to go.”

You hum in agreement and after you swallow your food you add on for him. “Since bonding with dragons isn’t the safest thing, I thought we could all go. Watch out for him, and take advantage of the moment and have a small family trip.” You smile and glance at everyone around the table.

“That sounds like a good idea, mother,” Rhaenyra interjects. “Also gives me a chance to race against father again.” She snickers and sips her wine.

Aemon taps the table and when you look to him he quickly signs. “Can Catelyn, Nymeria and Eira go too?”

You let out a disappointed sigh and shake your head. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I’m afraid they wont make it. It’s just a small trip. But,” you try to assure him as you lean towards him. “Aunt Sansa and uncle Mors, and the girls will come in a couple weeks for a visit. That sound good?”

Aemon nods and grins.

“Really? They’re coming? Great!” Oraena asks with excitement since Sansa’s eldest daughter is 10 just like her, and they get along very well. It’s also why Aemon wants them to come because Sansa’s middle child, Catelyn, is 8 just like him.

“Anyway, Daeron, once we get to Dragonstone, maybe you can bond with a dragon too,” you direct at him so he doesn’t feel left out. “I’ve seen two wild dragons at the Dragonmount. That skinny brown one, and the teal one that looks like Ryuu’s. ”

Daeron meets your gaze and offers you a gentle smile and a light nod. “Yes, I would like that.”

You mirror his smile, and then share your happy smile with Jon.

Now all there’s left to do is hope that either of them bond with a dragon. If they don’t it’s okay, having a dragon doesn’t define them, but they really want to, so you’ll carry hope for them.

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

“Boys,” Jon murmurs as he continues to try and progress what he heard Oraena say. “She’s kissing boys.”

You smile at the mirror you’re using as you catch his baffled expression while he lays down.

“How old were you when you kissed a boy?” Jon asks and looks at you through the mirror.

You turn around to face him whilst you continue to spread cream over your arms. “15. But don’t worry, when I asked Oraena she said she was just curious.” You pick the cloth from the vanity to clean your hands. “It's okay to be curious. If we try to forbid them from something they’ll only act out…I know that from experience.”

Jon chuckles softly. “I know that…” he trails off and sighs. “It’s just she’s so young…in my eyes at least. She’s my little girl.”

You begin to smile in awe as you walk to your side of your shared bed.

“What? Soon she’ll stop following me around as well?” He asks, making you giggle.

“Aye, she will.” You tell him the truth as you climb on the bed and crawl to his side. “She’ll grow up, get an attitude, she’ll want to leave and then Aemon will follow and we’ll be alone.”

Once you’re laying beside Jon, he wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses you agasint him as you both admire the ceiling above. “I suppose it’s what every parent wants right? For them to live their lives,” he whispers. “I was so caught up taking care of them that I forgot that.”

You press a kiss on his chest and then begin to caress his shoulder with your finger. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “They’re all so unique and chaotic…the day is never not eventful,” you laugh. “I never expected that.”

Jon hums softly. “Nor I. I always thought my life was going to be dull and boring in the Night's Watch….now…” he trails off as he can’t find what to say.

You albeit lift your head and meet his gaze. “What would you younger self say if he knew this was going to be your life?” You ask out of curiosity. “I mean you're a prince and have seven kids. Seven.”

Jon begins to smile in admiration and shakes his head softly. “I wouldn’t believe you. I wouldn’t believe it. I was a bastard who was just a burden to my family, a shame they had to hide. At the Night's watch I started from nothing and then rose higher, but I never knew if I would live to see another day…after I left that remained the same. Now—”

“You’re a Prince Consort,” you interject. “A hero of the Seven Kingdoms, my husband, and a father. A great one at that.” You grin at him and then raise your hand to cup his cheek. “Who thought you’d get this far huh?”

“Well I’m a great father only because I have you,” he compliments you and begins to caress your chin. “Without you I don’t know how I would do it.”

You hum softly and press a kiss on his lips. “Sometimes I think war is easier,” you admit.

Jon chuckles and nods. “Oh so much easier. I mean I don’t miss fighting battles, but it was easier. Now here with the kids I have to be careful how I step…one wrong move and someone’s angry at me…like Robb. Albeit with him I don't know where I went wrong. And if I try to retrace my steps I end up more lost.”

You exhale deeply and lay your head back down on his chest. “He’s just feeling left out without a dragon.”

“Is that what he said?” Jon asks.

You nod. “Basically yes. He feels like he doesn’t belong. Like you hate him because of it.”

Jon shakes his head quickly. “Never. I never could.”

“I know, but he’s just feeling insecure. It’s part of growing up, but the best thing you can do is keep trying, okay? Maybe try and talk to him. Take him out. Go hunting, or do something he likes.” You suggest.

Jon’s chest rises as he draws in a deep breath, and then pulls your head down as it falls when he breathes out. “I hope he wants to.” He says.

“Oh, he will,” you assure him. “My only hope now is that if he doesn’t get that dragon he doesn’t spiral. He’s so dependent on getting one. Like if his life depends on it. Is it bad to expect that from him?” You ask quietly as if Robb could hear. “Does that make me horrible?”

“No,” Jon answers without hesitance. “You’re just worried, we know how he is. You’re just preparing so it doesn’t sneak up on you….but I don’t know either…I think we just have to be there for him. Support him.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod in agreement.

You’ll still hope he does get his dragon though.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

“I live simply with hope for a better today for tomorrow is not promised.”

You lower your gaze and meet the dark gaze of Rhaenyra as she closes the book in her hand.

“That’s my favorite book,” you tell her. “I especially like it when you read it to me.” You caress her chin and she flashes you a smile.

Due to her being heir, now that she’s older and understands more matters, you like to have her by your side at small council meetings, hearings, really anything to do with Queen duties to get her prepared. It’s why your relationship is stronger now than it was before, because you’re with each other most of the day.

“I know. It’s one of my favorites too,” she says as she flips around to lay on her stomach on the blanket you have over the sand. “What did you draw?” She asks you.

You smirk and hand her your sketch journal to show her the drawing you drew of her as she was reading with her head on your lap.

“I shall have it hanged,” she says. “Maybe in the art gallery at home. I love it. I wish I could draw as good as you.”

“You do have an amazing talent for music,” you comfort her. “You brought your father to tears when you played the harp for the first time, remember?”

Rhaenyra snickers as she drops her head. “Father cries for my smallest achievements. When I become Queen will he sob?” He pokes fun at him.

“I bet you he will,” you play along. “10 golden dragons that he does.”

Rhaenyra glances over at Jon playing some game with Ryuu and smirks. “I’ll take that bet.” She flips back around to lay her head on your lap and takes time to admire the blue sky overhead. “Can I tell you something?”

You hum in agreement whilst you look at Aemon a few feet down the beach flying his kite.

“Robb snuck girls into his chambers last week,” Rhaenyra sells out her twin brother, causing you to snap your eyes to her and shoot her a narrowed gaze.

“What?” You scoff in disbelief.

Rhaenyra nods. “He and Maester Sam’s Jon were getting drunk and probably laying with those woman.”

Oh not Sam’s Jon, you do notice Ryuu’s crush on the older boy. This will break his heart.

“Who else knows?” You ask her and catch Ryuu laughing with Jon.

“Just me and Daeron, just don’t tell him I told you,” she lets you know.

You sigh and look around for Robb and Daeron but they continue not to show up on the beach. “I’ll talk to your father and then talk to Robb. Because if he gets one of those girls pregnant he will have to take care of it.”

Rhaenyra snorts. “Yeah, sure he will. He can’t even wipe his own ass right.”

You lower your eyes to look at her and try not to laugh, but you can’t help but let out a soft giggle.

“Ahh help me!” A shout cuts through the breezes. “Let me go! Daddy!”

You snap your eyes to where it comes from and see Edria wrestling with Oraena in the shore. And just as Jon breaks away from where he is you get up to and rush over to the pair of girls to try and break up the fight.

“Edria, let go of your sister!” Jon yells as he tries to pull her off, but Edria shifts away and shoves Oraena’s face in the water, causing Ryuu to laugh and Aemon to grasp onto you with worry.

“Edria!” You yell out, but it’s like going to deaf ears. The Queensguard try to step in, but you assure them that it’s okay. And luckily Jon manages to break them apart, letting you rush over to Oraena to pull her out of the water.

“Tell me what happened?” You demand from both of them as you grab Oraena’s chin as you notice scratch marks on her face. “Now.”

“Oraena splashed water in my eye after I told her not to and it stung!” Edria shouts and pulls away from Jon. “She—”

“Edria bit me!” Oraena counters and throws her arm up to show the bite mark on her wrist. “And she shoved me in the water!” Oraena looks up at you with her eyes clouding with tears and then glances at Jon. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whines.

You let go of her and then look over at Jon and meet his gaze. You don’t say anything, but you share a speechless conversation through your gazes.

“You’re both grounded, we’ll come up with your punishments tomorrow Oraena,” Jon breaks it to them. “Edria, since you swung first you won’t attend training for a week, nor can you go dragon riding for that same amount of time.”

Edria gasps and twists around to face you with that same disbelief. “Mother, you cannot allow this!”

You nod. “I can and I will, you're sisters, not enemies at war. Now go to separate parts of the beach.”

Edria huffs out before she yells and kicks sand as she stomps away, whilst Aemon steps towards Oraena and signs at her very seriously. “Careful, O, you might want to get that checked out, Edria has rabies.”

Ryuu chuckles loudly and makes sure to let his sister know what was said. “Edria does have rabies! Nice one Aemon!”

Edria spins around quickly and parts her lips to speak, but you shoot her a warning look and she just glares at her bothers before she turns again and continues to storm away.

“Daddy please it was not my fault,” Oraena begs Jon as she begins to follow him towards where Rhaenyra stayed. “You can’t punish me.”

Jon tries not to look at her since he knows he’ll probably give in if he does. “Sorry, O, but your mother is right. You’re sisters, you shouldn’t be fighting.” He tells her.

“Ryuu,” you call out without having to look over at him. “Leave Edria alone. You’ll get her even angrier.”

“Will not!”

You roll your eyes and get ready to add onto the converstion Jon is having, but you’re quickly cut off by a different voice approaching the beach.

“Your Grace, my prince.”

You look up and see Ser May dragging Robb along with her, and you notice he’s sporting a bloody nose. After her follows Ser Podrick with Daeron following at his side, and he has a cut lip.

Great another fight.

“What happened?” You ask as you slowly approach the group meeting you half way

“We found them fighting just in the valley above,” Ser May shares and pushes Robb towards you.

You swallow thickly and glance at both boys, seeing that Daeron lowers his head out of shame, and Robb just glares past you, making sure not to look at either Jon or you.

“Were there any weapons?” You ask the Knights.

Ser Podrick shakes his head. “No, Your Grace. They seemed to be just fist fighting.”

You exhale deeply and nod. “Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you. Leave us.” You then look over at Rhaenyra and point your eyes to the castle.

And without fault the two knights do as they were ordered, whilst Rhaenyra takes her siblings along with her, even if they want to stay and gossip.

It’s only once the kids are out of ear shot that Jon interrogates both boys. “I will ask nicely now, what happened? I want the truth.”

Robb meets Jon’s gaze and then yours, but he then drops his eyes and doesn’t answer, letting you press Daeron with a glare.

But he stays quiet too.

“You both are grown men,” Jon raises his voice. “Act like one and tell us what happened now!”

Both boys continue to stay quiet for a moment longer, so Jon steps forward and grabs Robb by the collar of his shirt and presses him with anger. “You are the oldest, Robb, tell me now.”

Robb scoffs and pushes Jon away so he’d let go of him.

“Robb,” you say softer. “Daeron, one of you has to speak. Your mother demands it.”

Just as you think you’d have to repeat yourself Robb grumbles. “Daeron claimed Helios. My dragon! My brother's dragon!” He sneers out at Daeron.

Damn it.

“I told you already I did not do it on purpose,” Daeron argues back softer. “It was not to spite you.”

You and Jon share a concerned look. And rather than trying to solve this, Jon lets you do it since you know more about dragons.

“Robb, it does not work like that and you know it. Yes I am sorry that it happened, but…it was just not fate for you to bond with Helios.” You try to grab his shoulder but he steps back from your touch. “Robb, you can bond with another. This is not the end and nothing to get angry over. Fate did not want it that way, it’s that simple.”

Robb sniffles and then glares at you. “You told me. You promised!”

You shake your head. “I did not do such a thing—”

“We were here for me!” Robb cuts you off abruptly. “But as always Daeron makes it about him!” Robb points at his brother and begins to stomp towards him, but Jon pulls him back. “Helios was my dragon!”

“Helios was no one’s dragon,” Jon rebuttals. “And it’s no reason to be fighting your brother for it.”

“He is not my brother,” Robb hisses and pulls his arm away from Jon’s touch. “He’s the son of a—”

“Robb,” you bellow. “That’s enough. Go to your quarters now. Calm down. We’ll go talk to you again.”

Robb throws his arms up and parts his lips to argue back, but he just glances at all of you before he lets out a feigned laugh and turns to storm away.

“Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t mean it,” Jon tries to assure Daeron. “He’s just angry.”

Daeron glances back at Robb and nods softly. “Yes, I know. You have to know I didn’t do it to be malicious. I found Helios when I was walking down to the beach and I just…” he pauses and his eyes soften as his lips tug to a smile. “I just had this feeling.”

You mirror his soft smile and nod. “Yes, we know that feeling exactly. And I know your intentions are pure. Robb is just…” you sigh. “Angry. Don’t let that ruin your moment. Okay? Celebrate if you must.” You grab his chin and caress it. “Congratulations my sweet sunspot.”

Daeron offers you a sweet smile and nods in comprhension.

You then exhale deeply and look to Jon. “I’ll go talk to the others, explain what happened.” You tell both men.

Jon nods and then presses a kiss on your cheek. “Go I want to talk to Daeron.”

You let your gaze linger on both Jon and Daeron once more before you break away and head for the castle alone with your thoughts.

Like why is it that Robb and Daeron can’t get along. And it’s not like no one can get along with Daeron, it’s just Robb who finds his indifferences with him. But why? You nursed the both of them, they got long as toddlers, you don’t favor one over the other, so why?

Sometimes it feels like you’re failing her…Daenerys. You try so hard, but no matter what, Robb can’t find it in his heart to welcome him, to think of him as one of his siblings. It can’t be just because they’re men, there has to be a reason, but what?

“I’m sorry Daenerys,” you whisper to the blue sky.

A/N- One more chapter left! 😓 also did you catch the parallels?

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

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januaryembrs · 2 years ago

Text

THE MAKING OF A MAN | Jon Snow x reader

Request: @thingy-mar said — hii!! can i request a jon snow x reader, centered around the reader being a woman and hiding at the nights watch for some reason and shenanigans ensues?

Length: Posing as a man on the night’s watch doesn’t quite go as smoothly as planned when you meet Jon Snow and sweet Sam Tarly.

Trigger Warnings: brief and very subtle hint of the possibility of sexual assault but none happens, I dropped the c bomb twice for the first time in a fic!!, foul language, violence, nudity, fem!body reader.

Author’s note : the way I had make a man out of you from Mulan viciously on REPEAT while I was writing this that was the energy I was going for. I hope you like this! Also! I finally got 1k followers, kisses for every single one of you I love hearing from everyone of you, and I appreciate you all always 🥺❤️

You cursed every god there was for making the North so fucking cold. Mother used to tell you stories of southerners like yourself turning to stone the moment they got too close to the wall, when the air dropped to freezing and the blood in your veins pumped out frost. Usually, you had a thick head of hair to at least keep your neck warm, but that was gone too. Chopped below your ears to give the impression of masculinity.

It was never supposed to be like this. Your family had been starving for the past year, your farm barely getting on without the help of your father since his condition weakened with the rotting fever he caught last Winter. Your brother did the best he could, and you gave up reading to give him the extra set of hands. But you were just a girl, not nearly as strong and efficient as your guilt ridden father who could barely stand let alone plough a field as he could once.

You knew how to hunt, proficiently. But with the cold setting in even further down the continent, animals had become scarce, and you were all withering by the day.

So your meat head of a brother had turned to more drastic measures. He had stolen. Stolen from the wrong wandering lord that so happened to have flashed some silvers. And within a day, the letter had been posted to your door with the midnight black seal, summoning your idiot brother to the Watch as punishment.

Without him, your crops would perish. Your poor mother would starve. The animals would become fragile and die too. Your father would be seen as a disgrace. You simply couldn’t allow it. So you left in the dead of night, cut your hair and muddied your face, hid every aspect of your body that could give the impression of a womanly figure, and headed to the North stowed upon the Night’s Watch carriage.

You dragged your hood further down your face as you watched over the edge of the wall. Duty had been difficult to settle into since you were careful to not talk too much or get too close to anyone in case they were able to decipher the feminine qualities of your face. But it had been three weeks now, and you and two other ‘men’ were stationed on the top of the wall. The nights only made the air that bit more cold to your displeasure, your torch you stood by did little to nothing to keep you warm.

“Not used to the cold?” It broke you out of your self-pitying daze at the sound of a deep voice to your left. Two boys around your age had been chatting amongst one another, not that you’d paid them much attention, but it seemed in their silence they had taken an interest in you.

You froze up, lowering your voice as you had been the few times you’d spoken. “I’m from the south. Everything was much warmer there,” You replied simply.

“Where are you from?” The voice pressed, though you hadn’t glanced their way just yet, hoping they’d just leave you be.

“Ashford,” You replied shortly, biting your lip nervously. The more you spoke, the more chance there was of them realising you were not quite who you said you were.

It was silent for a moment, and you heard the two men shuffling around, as if debating whether to press you further.

“I’m Sam by the way,” You finally turned your head to meet the faces of the two men, not wanting to draw attention to yourself by being completely rude.

Sam had some of the kindest eyes you think you’d ever seen. They stared at you with a hint of skittishness that you assumed was from being sent to the Watch, but as if to encourage you to talk more. His face was soft with youth, and he flashed you a small friendly smile. “This is Jon,” He pointed to his companion. You were much more intimidated by the shadowy eyes you met. His serious brow and expression looked down on you, a complete contradiction to Sam’s gentle face. Sam caught you gawking at Jon with something close to fear at his dark expression and knocked him on the arm lightly as if to prompt him to say something to you.

Jon caught himself in his moody presence, giving you the smallest of nods and almost a smile. “Alright?”

“Jack,” You replied, figuring your brother wouldn’t mind you stealing his name since you already posed as him.

Sam opened his mouth to say something else, when three more men stalked down the length of the wall, your commander leading ahead.

“Shift’s over boys. Go get some supper,” Your superior orders, the men taking over your place at the wall. You walk away before Sam can make any more small talk with you, wishing for nothing but your bed and some quiet.

—

It hadn’t been even two days later when you next saw Jon Snow and sweet Sam Tarly. You were out in the yard sparring under the commander’s watch, and it was safe to say you were not inspiring anyone. Being a girl, though you had been raised doing manual labour, you were not nearly as genetically strong as the grown men around you. Even the boys just turned fourteen were giving you a challenge.

“Pull yourself together, man! That boy hasn’t even dropped his balls yet, and he’s fucking you over!” The commander screamed at you as a measly teenager had again beaten you to the floor. Your face was feverish with embarrassment. You could feel yourself getting stronger by the day, but it was still null in comparison to the surrounding men. You felt pathetic. “The worms they send us these days,” He tutted, ushering forward another boy for you to fight.

You huffed out of anger, the lad not giving you any respite before he lunged at you with his steel sword near missing your plated stomach. After beating his blow away, you went in for your own attack. You caught his face by chance, a small slice across his cheek being all to show for two hours of being knocked on your arse in front of them all. The victory was short-lived however when the younger boy shoved forward and with brute strength you landed on your back yet again.

Your sword went skidding across the cobbles, under the awaiting foot of a large black boot and you felt two sets of eyes on your figure. Laughter resounded throughout your group of weaker men, and you fought back the urge to tear up at the sound. You were purely pathetic.

“Show’s over, lads,” The commander yelled, silencing the laughs to mere giggles as the boy strode away proudly to his newfound friends. You scurried to your feet in fear of looking even smaller than you felt. The commander’s eyes narrowed on your jumpy frame and he walked over to where you stood, your head held low. “Go wash the shit out your trousers and come back to my yard a bigger man tomorrow,”

You nodded meekly as he dismissed you for the day. Turning on your heel and heading back to your room to bathe, the tears brimmed your lash line as you willed yourself not to cry.

Jon and Sam watched you go, the former man reaching down to pick up your weapon from his feet. It was clear you would not last much longer on the watch with your shockingly weak frame, even Sam who was harmless and slow had bested you though he had winced in regret every second. “Poor lad doesn’t have it in him, I know what that’s like,” Sam murmured, your smaller form retreating into the showers. “I’ll take it back to him. Probably doesn’t need the boy top of the class to rub it in,”

“I’m not top of the class,” Jon protested, though he handed the sword over to his friend’s awaiting hand, “I don’t understand how a boy so weak could have made it to the Night’s Watch,”

“Seems like a quiet type to me. It’s them ones you’ve got to watch out for, my mother always told me.” The Tarly boy replied, heading after you with your sword in hand.

—

Even the bastard showers were cold at the night's watch. At least at home you could warm water in front of an open flame for a bath, you thought. Here there was not nearly enough water for each man to have a bath, instead they collected snow from the roof of the keep and drained it into a storage tank on the roof to fall naturally as a shower when the hatch was opened. It was painful, as if needles were falling onto your skin and burrowing their way in with every drop, but it was the only place people would leave you alone.

And alone and crying in the freezing showers you were.

That was until you heard the latch unlock on the door, and heavy footsteps enter the small damp room. Oh god, please no.

“Y/n? You left your sword,” You breathed a sigh of heavy relief when you realised it was Sweet faced Sam, not someone more nefarious with heinous intent for the weak boy crying in the shower, that would get a hell of a shock when they realised he in fact had no cock and a pair of tits. Though that relief soon melted into horror when you realised he was coming closer to where you stood. Is this what men did? Invade each other’s privacy so easily? You would have never had another woman come so close had she known you were nude, but here was Sweet Sam Tarly coming closer as if he was simply asking how your mother was or if the crops had been good this year.

Sweet Sam Tarly that was now behind you, talking to you as if he wasn’t about to find out your best kept secret.

“-and I said to Jon he shouldn’t be the one to bring it to you, I didn’t think it would be nice for the best fighter they have to return your weapon to you. It would rub salt into the wound, wouldn’t it? It would be like-” Sam chattered on happily and you cursed his sweet sweet nature as you looked down at where you stood facing the wall, tits bare and cunt free for the world to see.

“Sam,” You cut him off sternly, one hand trying to hide your top half, “Just put the sword down there please,” You pointed to where your clothes lay.

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” He did as you asked, and noticed how stiff you stood, as if afraid of him. “Are you okay?” You heard him shuffle closer, “I didn’t frighten you did I-”

“Sam! Stay there!” You ordered, mind racing what to tell the boy who didn’t listen since you could still hear him coming closer to comfort you. You must have turned your head enough for him to see where you had been crying, and it only made the gentle boy even more worried for his new friend’s wellbeing as he stepped closer yet again.

“Oh, don’t cry lad. We all cry sometimes. I cried just last night, thought my toes had dropped off after our night shift and I feared of what I’d find when I took my shoes off.” Another step closer, this time a hand on your shoulder, “But it’s okay, we’re brothers now. And brothers talk to each other about everything,” You could feel him leaning forward as to give you a hug, fully aware that you were still nude. Is this what men do? Men were weird, you concluded.

Either way, your secret was completely fucked if he reached around and saw the two lumps of fat that stood you out from the rest, that you still very much did not want him to feel.

“Sam, no!” You turned around to push him away, and the poor boy looked as though you had slapped him. That is until his gaze dropped almost immediately, as men’s eyes do, and he saw the two enlarged breasts staring back at him in a way no man would normally grow.

His mouth dropped open into an ‘O’ shape as he trailed down to your wide hips, thick thighs and your very obvious lack of dick that you covered with your hand before he could look for too long. His innocent blue eyes rushed back up to your face and suddenly everything about your face was feminine. He had always thought you had a weirdly pretty face for a man, and even the rounded shape of your arse had startled him when he had entered the bathing room, though he had simply thought it was being surrounded by men for weeks on end fogging his lust. He saw the fright in your eyes, and it all clicked for him your predicament.

You were a woman, posing on the Night’s Watch as a man. And you were most certainly not supposed to be here.

“Sam please,” You begged, stepping forward to hold his arm in desperation, “Please do not tell anyone of this,”

“You’re a- You have tits and a - SEVEN HELLS,” He stepped back in shock when he took another look at your cunt as if he didn’t believe his eyes the first time, “YOU HAVE-”

“Sam, please calm down,” He ripped his fur off his shoulder to cover you up despite the fact you had your own clothes.

“I’m ever so sorry, My Lady. I would have never burst in here had I know,” He fussed over you, making sure you were shielded from his view.

“I’m not a lady, I’m just a farmer’s girl,” You ordered as he went to undo his jacket so that he could cover your bare arms. Even when you had thrust a very dangerous secret upon him, he was incredibly kind. Your heart warmed as his rosy red cheeks trailed up to your face, taking in your face as if he hadn’t spent the past three weeks with you. “You can’t tell anyone of this,”

“You need to leave, it’s not safe for you here,” He urged, “Some of these boys will do a lot worse than just come into the showers while you’re here. And even the rational ones haven’t seen a woman in months, you don’t know what they might do,” Sweet Sam Tarly tucked your wet hair over your shoulder so it wouldn’t stick to your face.

You sighed, knowing he was telling the truth, “If I confess now they’ll behead me for lying and treachery. And then they’ll kill my brother for allowing a woman to serve in his place. I’m only here because my parent’s farm would not survive without him.”

Sam looked over your pretty face in despair. “Very well. I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” The boy promised, wrapping his furs tighter around you. You looked at his kind expression, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. For the first time in three entire weeks, you felt safe. Secure. Like you didn’t have to watch your back twenty-four seven because you finally had a friend on the Watch who knew your secret.

“Thank you, Sam. You’re a good man,”

“You’re a good man too,” The broad boy joked and the two of you laughed between one another, his enormous arms wrapping around your waist.

That is until you realised something was pressing in between the two of you that was clearly unintentional on the sweet boy’s part. You gasped and pulled back, and the movement seemed to knock sense into the Tarly boy.

“Sam!”

“I’m so sorry, I’ve never seen a woman bare before- I’ve very mixed feelings right now-”

—

For the first time in a month, you felt settled at the wall. You had gained little strength yet, but your fighting skill seemed to almost be improving. You still hated the cold with every ounce of your being, but at least you had a friend. Sweet Sam and his forever grumpy accomplice Jon.

Unlike Sam, Jon relished in the silence as you did, something you appreciated from time to time. Though it meant on nights like this, when Sam was not on night duty as you two were, there was a prolonged silence between the two of you that you neither liked nor hated. You could tell he scrambled for something to say to you, to be the one to be a friend when Sam was not there to do so, and you appreciated his efforts.

Finally, after an hour of watching into the inky black darkness over the edge of the wall for any movement, he opened his mouth to speak.

“You have a dainty life back home then?” Jon asked, making your head shoot up at the break in the silence. You must have seemed puzzled as he explained himself. “You don’t seem the heavy lifting type, is all,”

You nodded, noting his dark eyes and how they seemed to latch onto yours in interest, “Oh. No, I suppose not. My older brother did all the farm work since my father got sick,” You said, each breath misting in front of your very eyes in the freezing weather. Fearing it made you sound lazy as his head turned away in indifference, you continued, “I’m much better with a bow, truthfully. I’ve never had to wield a blade when catching rabbits and deers,”

Jon smirked, and you found yourself somewhat proud you had drawn that from him. He was a handsome man. So very handsome in a way that was obvious to a woman surrounded by men every single day. You hoped he did not have a woman at home, though you supposed they would never meet again, nor could you ever do anything about it seeing as it deemed you to behave like a man for the foreseeable future.

“No, I don’t suppose deers and rabbits would put up a good duel,” He replied, and the two of you fell back into silence. “I could teach you, if you’d like? I taught my younger brothers before I left,”

You looked at him in disarray. The men of the knights watch were not known for their kindness, more so their heathen behaviour and ferocity to the wildlings. Jon Snow was not like them, he was kind and understanding. He did not look at you with scorn at your difficulties. He was offering to help.

“You would?” Wide eyed, you asked. “You would help me?”

He nodded, shrugging and readying his blade, “I don’t see why not. Come on, arms up.”

And so for two hours Jon taught you. The dark-haired man held the blade as if it was part of his arm, as if he had known nothing but him and that sword, moved swift like the river that cut through your hometown. He was tough on you for your posture, exclaiming he had seen his septa with a stronger back than you to which you told him it was probably the silver spoon he had rammed up his arse that made him stand so stiffly. You had thought briefly you had gone too far when he straightened and gazed at you, before his face broke out into a laugh. Jon Snow had a wonderful smile, you realised.

You continued on for another hour, Jon showing you how your feeble nature could help you become nimble and fast. “As long as you make them bleed, it doesn’t matter where you hit them,” He said, using one of his huge, firm hands to adjust your stance and grip on your sword. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart race to smell the intoxicating scent of his sweat and old soap rolling off him into the cold air you inhaled. It was just because you had never been so close to a man, lest seen one so close in the past month with your efforts to stay hidden from view. Your heart felt like it was racing as you stepped away from the broad-shouldered man that encompassed your frame with his own, not watching where you were treading so long as it got you away from that terrible siren call of a scent he gave off.

“In no time at all you’ll be the best in the yard,” He teased, as you moved back even further. You noticed the patch of black ice too late however in your haste to ironically come to your senses. Your footing was swept from underneath you by the frozen cobble, and your body thrown backwards with the weight of your armour sent you tumbling over the edge of the wall’s crenel with a loud yelp, “Perhaps not as- JACK!”

Jon lunged his body forward, arms outstretched to grab your hands in his own. You felt your body slam into the side of the bricks, legs dangling precariously over the frosty edge and you swore everything seemed impossibly colder on this side of the wall. Your heart raced even more than when you had been near Jon, racing as if this was your last moment on earth which it very well could be. How you were not dead you will never know, but every single prayer you could ever say to the gods ran through your head as you breathed out finally.

“JON!” You yelled, gripping onto his large hands with a tightness you didn’t know you had. If he was to let go even the slightest amount, it would all be over.

“I’ve got you!” He called back, two hands grabbing your forearm securely. “I won’t drop you, but you need to pull yourself up,”

Your free hand grabbed onto an empty alcove in the wall’s brickwork, the ice nestling there biting into your fingertips as though it were a feral dog. You winced as you felt your skin stick to the ice instead of melt it, but you used the wall to kick yourself up further although your legs felt near numb with fear. “That’s it, now grab this part,” Jon encouraged, and you did so, moving to hold the top of the wall as a more secure plane.

One of Jon’s arms wrapped around your waist to give him a better grip of your slack body, and it took all his strength to hoist you, your sodden clothes and your armour back over the wall. The two of you stumbled back with a grunt of effort, and you think you finally exhaled for the first time in five minutes by the time he got you to the right side of the barrier, his arm still wrapped around you as yours never withdrew from grabbing onto his shoulders in terror.

The two of you stayed quiet for a moment, as if you didn’t quite believe what had just happened. “Are you alright?” Jon whispered, letting you go though you were still quite shaken up.

“I think so,” You reply, though neither of you miss the tremor in your tone, “Thankyou, Jon,”

“Always. We’re brothers now. Brother’s look after each other.” He replied, clapping you on your shoulder heartily, not missing the way you looked away from him when he named you his family, “Now come on. That’s enough excitement for one night.”

—

Everything came to a screaming halt not even a month later. You had grown in muscle, not nearly as much as a normal man, but your sparring had improved immensely and life was becoming less difficult as you acclimatised to the cold. Sam and Jon were good friends, particularly Sam who always watched your back to help you keep your secret safe from the outside world.

But you had shaken Jon. He had never felt this way about a man before, never seen a man with such beautiful eyes or such a softness in their gaze. Sam held a kindness to him but not in the same delicate manner you did. Save when you were sparring, something you had put every piece of yourself into since the night you nearly fell from the wall. The way you gazed at him as if he was the greatest warrior you had ever seen, though he doubted a farm boy would have ever seen the bloodshed of war.

He saw how the other men treated you. He and Sam tried to steer them clear of picking on you for your weaker frame, but on the days they couldn’t be with you they hoped you were tough. He knew you weren’t.

It was a night as such that they had both been stationed on watch duty where they found you. They had been relieved of duty not ten minutes earlier; the elevator creeping its way down to Castle Black at a frustratingly slow pace. All Jon wanted was his bed, as it seemed Sam did too from the way he ran a hand over his eyes as if the weight of the world held heavy on his shoulders.

“Is it just me or do the nights seem longer up here?” Sam asked, rubbing his hands together hoping to warm the poor digits up by even a few degrees. It was in vain though, even he knew that. There was no such thing as warmth this far north.

Jon opened his mouth to answer his good friend, but was interrupted by the sound of a high-pitched scream that was quickly cut off and some loud scuffling around the centre of the training yard.

The two men looked at one another as the elevator met the cold stone cobbles, somehow both of them having a good idea who was responsible for such a cry. Jon kicked the iron door open, the pair of them rushing out of the metal hold at a surprising pace for two men freezing their arses off. They were confronted with three of the taller men the night’s watch offered surrounding a figure on the floor, mouth and limbs bound with cloth.

“Get his clothes off boys. Let’s see if a night in the cold air will toughen him up. Commander says even the youngest boy brought here is more of a man than this runt.” The larger one, who Sam knew to be named Derick ordered, and his heart skipped when he saw who it was they had on the floor, squealing and writhing like a shot animal.

Of course, as they’d both suspected, it was you the pig bastards had dragged out of bed in the middle of the night for a practical joke. But he watched as they undid your top buttons and was thankful as Jon made it just in time to shove the man off you.

“That’s enough!” The Stark’s half son yelled, loud enough to wake the superiors of the watch so they could deal with the rats.

The boys huffed, shuffling away from your limp body as Jon drew his sword and stared at them all coldly. “Snow bastard here to save the day, once again. Does your arse ever tire of you wearing it like a hat?” Derick snapped, eyeing Jon up wearily as if deliberating his chances against the man. But it seemed he didn’t fancy his luck, as he shouldn’t have, and stepped away from your bodyguards in annoyance.

“Just go back to bed and you’ll be lucky we don’t tell the commanders what you were going to do.” Jon murmured darkly, as Sam also reached for his weapon at his side if they wished for a fight. He knew Jon could take them all on his own but anything to steer them away from you.

The boys looked to one another in a sneer, before huffing and sauntering off back to the dormitory, muttering curses about the three of you. The moment they turned, Jon was at your side, ripping the gag away from your mouth so you could breathe. It wasn’t until then that he noticed you had been crying and his heart plummeted. You hiccuped as the cloth was removed from your face, Sam cutting free the binds on your ankles as Jon worked on your wrists.

It wasn’t for another minute that you had shaken yourself out of the fright the awful bastards had given you, and you actually thought to thank the two of them.

“Don’t mention it,” Jon said, pulling your wrists forward to free the knotted cloth there too. His large fingers brushed along your hands warmly, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at just how easily his body had adapted to the cold. Though you supposed it had always been like that being a boy of Winterfell.

You were still silent however, not knowing quite what to say as your hands fell free with his quick work and you lifted your arm up to rub away the dried tears in vain. The dark-haired man must have seen your crestfallen expression, and did what Jon did best to all the men he saw struggling. He comforted you.

“Hey, don’t let them get to you. You’re getting stronger by the day.” He murmured, pulling your arm away from your face to see your bottom lip still quivering in shame. “We made no warrior overnight. Do you think the Mountain woke up one day with the strength of a god?”

“I heard he split his mothers ribs in two the day he was born,” Sam chimed in, though he quickly regretted his chatty nature when the two of you looked at him, Jon with an exasperated glare and you with pure fright. He gathered his words the way Sam did best, and added; “Probably just an old wives’ tale though.”

Jon turned back to you, his eyes falling to where they had unbuttoned your shirt and leaned forward to help, “What I mean is there’s always going to be someone bigger than you. My father once told me how he beat the Sword of the Morning and even he-” Jon froze halfway through his sentence as his fingers brushed against your flesh under your shirt. Something was wrong. Something was different to his own body, to any man he had ever seen before. It wasn’t until you realised why he had gone quiet that you shoved his hands away, your soft feminine hands holding him off as if he’d burned you.

You had been so enraptured in his words, the comfort it brought you, you didn’t realise just how much of you he could feel until you followed his eyes to where he was staring at your chest wide eyed. His gaze flicked to your face and just like Sam, he took in your guilty eyes, your womanly features that he had always known were pretty. Though he’d always placed his thought as of jealous rather than of lust.

But his mind raced as if confirmed by feeling those mounds on your chest, reimagining your face in a whole new light.

Your eyes met, and the second they did, you knew he knew.

Jon stood up fast enough to give him head spin, or was that just the revelation that either you were indeed a man with a startlingly pretty face and tits to match or were you very much a woman?

“Jon!” You shimmied your legs out the rest of the rope that Sam had been struggling with, standing to meet his shocked expression, “Jon, wait,” You reached out for him, though he stepped away as if you were suddenly cursed.

“No- You can’t-” He breathed out, forcing himself to finish his sentence though the thought pained him, “You can’t be a woman. Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is for a woman?”

“Of course I do, Jon! I’ve feared for my life every day these past months, feared for my virtue. I don’t wish to be here, I have no choice,” You hissed back as Sam stood beside you, hilting his knife.

The lack of shock on the Tarly boy’s face clicked in Snow’s mind, “You knew about this?”

“I walked in on her in the shower unfortunately,” He replied, spinning to look at you with a red tinge to his cheeks, “Not that- I mean I didn’t want to invade your privacy- You have a lovely pair-”

“Sam,” You spat, nudging the boy to stop his mouth that would usually endear, as the two of you looked back at Jon’s aghast expression. Rushing forward to hold on to his arm, a tenderness you could express now, “Please don’t tell the Commanders. They’ll kill me if they know,” Jon’s dark eyes searched your face for any reason as to not take on this potentially fatal secret, but all he found was a scared woman begging for his help. All he found was the person he had been keeping his eye on for months since that first day you met. All he found was a friend.

“Alright,” Jon conceded, noticing now just how soft your hands were as they clung to his arm in need, “So what do they call you?”

“Actually, what do they call you?” Sam piped up, a puzzled look on his face as you spun to meet his eyes with a relaxed smile. “I’ve been calling you Jack for the past month and you’ve not once said anything.”

You chuckled and told them both your real name, your gaze meeting Jon’s once more as he stuck out his hand to shake, his eyes softening when he saw you looking up at him in hope.

“Welcome to the night’s watch, Y/N,”

#jon snow x reader #jon snow #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #job snow imagine #jon snow fanfiction #Samwell Tarly #samwell tarly x reader #fem!reader

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random-imagines-blog · 5 years ago

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Imagine being a refugee from King’s Landing, and Samwell letting you stay in his home.

Everything had been taken from you. Your home, your family, your belongings. All that you had with you was provided by the new King - two changes of clothes, bread, cheese, and enough money to get you to where you needed to go - which was Horn Hill, where you would be staying with the Tarlys.

Along with a couple of other people, you made your way to the grand estate. You were astounded by how beautiful it all was - the luscious trees, the grand gardens. You hoped to find work somewhere about here, but Horn Hill itself would be ideal.

“Morning,” A larger man said, greeting you and the others as you were on the doorstep. He looked at you in particular and a flush went across his cheeks. You smiled at him, as you figured he was the Lord of the House. He then guided everyone to where their rooms would be, but he paused a moment at your door. You had taken out your spare dress and was folding it when you noticed him still standing there. “My name’s Sam.” He said.

You introduced yourself in return, and he smiled at you, that pink tinge still on his cheeks. “If you need anything - at any time - please, come ask me.”

“I will, thank you Sam.” He left you to your unpacking and you grinned to yourself. You might have lost everything in King’s Landing but perhaps you could gain something here.

#Samwell Tarly #Samwell Tarly x reader #Samwell Tarly imagines #Game of Thrones #Game of Thrones imagines #GOT imagines #GOT #imagines #nonrequest #samwellt

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underatedcharactersunite · 7 years ago

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Samwell Tarly kissing you under the mistletoe would Include?

【Hey everyone it’s Christmas week! So please expect some surprises throughout this week!】

-Sam being incredibly nervous. His palms are sweaty as he refuses to make eye contact with you. In this eyes, he doesn't even deserve to talk to someone like you let alone kiss. Standing underneath the mistletoe with you is quite nervewracking for Sam.

- You being the one to make the first move. Placing your hand on his bearded cheek as you reassure him that it’s okay to kiss you. Gentle smiles are exchanged between you both.

-Sam is unsure where to put his hands, he’s seen plenty of people kiss before, just not him.

-Guiding Sam’s hands to your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck before slowly beginning to lean in. Everything begins to freeze around you as suddenly nothing else exists.

-The kiss would be relatively short between you. However, as soon as you pull away. The pair of you would be grinning from ear to ear, Sam making a sweet or potentially cheesy comment.

-The two of you eventually walking away together hand in hand to enjoy the rest of the day together.

#Samwell Tarly imagine #Samwell Tarly imagines #game of thrones imagine #Game of thrones imagines #Game of thrones oneshot #game of thrones one shot #Got imagines #got imagine #got oneshot #got one shot #game of thrones headcannons #Samwell Tarly x reader

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bisexual-chupacabra · 4 years ago

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Me after finishing the forth season of Game of Thrones: I have only known Daenerys Targaryen for one month but if anything were to happen to her I would kill everyone in this room and then my self.

(also Missandei, Arya, Sam, and Sansa are under my protection as well.)

#source: brooklyn nine nine #GOT #game of thrones #asoif #game of thrones season 3 #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #mother of dragons #khaleesi #house targaryen #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen x reader #missandei #arya stark #sansa stark #samwell tarly

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fuckallthegood0nesweretaken · 5 years ago

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The Dove and Her Hound - CH. TwentyEight

Title: Get the Maester

Words: 1,061

Warnings: Slight swearing

A/N: Hey! So I don’t know if y’all saw or not, but I have opened requests. If you’d like to request something, please read my Things I Write For list then send me an ask! I’d love to write something for y’all.

Taglist: @tonbluemchen @affection-rabbit @art-flirt @10morgan10 @thatting @iwontdance-dontaskme @simsvetements

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Masterlist

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Arya, Jon, Daenerys, and the armies had left Winterfell and you were basically on your own. Jon had asked Tormund and Sam to keep watch over you and Sansa while he was gone and since you were put on bedrest, you were somewhat glad for the company. Gilly had become a close friend and when you found out she was pregnant too, you were ecstatic. She was only around five months, but the children would have someone close in age to each other and you couldn’t wait. If Gilly wasn’t with Sam, she was with you.

Sam visited sometimes as well and you were happy to finally get to know the man Jon called his best friend. Sam would entertain you and Gilly with stories of the two of them when they were at Castle Black. He told you of how he and Jon met, and how Jon had stood up for him in front of Thorne even though that didn’t bode well for Jon.

Tormund would visit as well, but not as often. You enjoyed his company as he had brought Ghost with him. The only time the Direwolf left was when it was time to eat. Right after the meal was finished you could find him curled up into a ball on your bed. When you were asleep, he was awake and when you were awake, he would sleep for a while. Most of the time, Tormund would tell stories of the North to you and you would tell him stories of your childhood. You wouldn’t say that the two of you were friends, but you had definitely gotten closer.

It was three weeks after everyone had gone to the Capital when you went into labor. Tormund was visiting you when your water broke. Your eyes widened in surprise and when the first contraction hit, you cried out in pain. Tormund looked up at you and stood up.

“The baby coming?” He asked.

“Yes! Please go get the Maester!”

“I’ll be right back.” Tormund got up and all but ran out of the room. He bumped into Sam in the corridor and all he said was ‘baby’ before continuing on to the Maester. Sam hurried to you and when he entered the room he saw you panting in pain and clutching your sheets. Ghost was pacing on the floor and whining whenever you cried out. He recognized Sam and trotted over to him, pushing him with his snout over to you.

“Tormund’s gone to get the Maester. Your sister and Gilly will soon be here too,” Sam said to you. He got a piece of cloth wet and started dabbing it on your face. “We have to get you ready for the Maester.”

Sam helped you sit up slightly against the headrest and put all of your pillows behind you so you could be more comfortable. He had just placed the last pillow behind you when the Maester came into the room.

“Alright. You need to wait out in the hall,” he told Sam. “The midwives will be here soon and no one else will be in the room.”

“Please. Don’t make him go,” you said. You knew how grisly childbirth could be and you needed someone to be with you.

“I’m sorry, milady. But he can’t be here.”

“Then what about Sansa? Or Gilly?”

“Lady Sansa can be present,” the Maester said after a moment. “But no one else.”

“Thank you.” You squeezed Sam’s hand and he smiled back. As he was leaving, Gilly and Sansa burst into the room. Sansa immediately made her way over to you and when Gilly tried to get to you, one of the midwives stopped her.

“Only Lady Sansa can be in the room. You will have to wait outside with everyone else.”

It looked as if Gilly wanted to protest, but Sam stopped her and led her outside the room. You wanted to acknowledge them, but another contraction stole your attention. You noticed Sansa’s presence next to you but jumped when someone took your other hand. Looking up, you saw Tormund.

“You can’t be in here—“ The Maester started to say before Tormund cut him off with a look.

“I’m staying and you can’t make me leave,” Tormund said. You smiled at him as thanks and bared down as more contractions hit. It had only just begun but you couldn’t wait for it to be over.

---

Anyone who tells you that childbirth is a beautiful thing was lying out of their ass. It was painful and loud and long. It took twelve hours for your child to finally be born and by the end of it you were exhausted. The Maester had taken your firstborn away to be washed and swaddled while Sansa brushed your hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“You did great, [y/n],” she said softly.

“I’m pleased to announce that you gave birth to a healthy baby boy!” The Maester said as he brought your babe back to you.

“A boy,” you whispered.

“What will you name him?” Tormund asked you.

“I don’t know. I have a few choices picked out, but I can’t decide.”

“What about Eddard?” Sansa suggested.

“That was one of them. Along with Rickon and Robb.”

“Eddard was your fathers name, yes?” Tormund asked.

“Yes. And the other two were my brothers.”

“I think Eddard is a great name for your baby then. I’ve heard great things about that man.”

“Jon told you the stories?” Tormund nodded.

“Aye.”

“Eddard Stark. Welcome to the world.” You held your babe close to your chest and kissed his little forehead. Sansa smiled lovingly at the sight and squeezed your hand.

“You should feed him. I bet he’s hungry. We’ll leave you alone, but I’ll have someone posted at your door so if you need anything you won’t have to go far,” Sansa said.

“Thank you.” Sansa and Tormund got up and left the room. You were alone with your child and you suddenly felt tears well up in your eyes. Your husband was not with you and you didn’t think that he would ever hold his child and that thought killed you more than him leaving did. Forcing the tears back, you started to feed your son. Now was not the time to dwell on those thoughts. You had a child to care for now.

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ravenofthefandoms · 6 years ago

Text

Jorah the Northman

Word Count: 2454

Pairing: Jorah Mormont x reader

Characters: Jorah Mormont, Maege Mormont (mentioned), Lyanna Mormont, Sansa Stark (mentioned), Jon Snow (mentioned), Davos Seaworth (mentioned), Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen, Missandei, Samwell Tarly (mentioned), OC (Jaran Mormont, son of Jorah Mormont)

Warnings: MDNI 18+, angst with some light smut at the end

A/N: Oh Jorah. What a man! I hope you all enjoy this one. I’m not sure if I want to do a part 2 for this one, but I could definitely do a cute little reunion between Jorah and his and reader’s son! We’ll see how much people like this and then, if its gaining enough love, I’ll make a part 2! Also, RIP Jorah :( this was written a loooong time before Season 8 even aired so sorry for opening those wounds back up for all my Jorah fans

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters except for Jaran Mormont. The rest belong to George R.R. Martin and to HBO. Any gifs used do not belong to me. They belong to their original creator.

Life was not as easy as it had once been. With fighting in the North and fighting in the South, the world felt like it was being torn in half. Your heart felt the same.

It was many years ago when you were married to Ser Jorah Mormont, heir to House Mormont. You married ten years ago, and bore him a child six years ago. For four years, you attempted to bear him a child, but after three miscarriages, you felt yourself giving up. Jorah never did though. He told you that, someday, your belly would swell with his child and it would make him the happiest man alive. And, after four years, you did. Jaran Mormont, son of Jorah Mormont. He was your pride and joy, the light of your life. The night that you pushed him into the world was the night you cried, truly cried, for the first time.

However, those days of happiness were cut short when the love of your life and the father of your son was exiled from Westeros and was forced to leave you with his family. You wanted to flee with him, but no amount of arguing would change his mind. He had no idea where he was going or where he would end up. Despite everything, he was glad that he was able to meet his son before his undeniable disappearance.

For six more years, you raised your boy by yourself. Thankfully, the Mormonts were kind enough to allow you to stay on Bear Island and keep the name “Mormont” that they valued so much. Instead of keeping the title of Lord Mormont for your son, you handed the lordship over to your goodsister. “I am not a true Mormont, and I will not preside over this house in place of my son. You are the rightful heir, dear sister.” Those were your words, five years ago, when Jorah fled. That didn’t seem to last long, however, because it seemed like sooner rather than later that Lyanna was named the Lady Mormont of Bear Island. You were glad that it was her, though; she was a strong child, no matter what people said.

When Lyanna went to Westeros, you and Jaran accompanied her. “Aunt (Y/N), I would like you to be by my side. Your advice is as good as any maester’s or lord’s.” For a girl so young, she was so wise. She was a Mormont bear, through and through. So you accepted and accompanied the little lady as her advisor and her aunt.

Over your five years without your lover, you had heard many rumors. The latest one was that he served the Targaryen girl, Khaleesi, she was called. Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen. Rightful Heir to the Iron Throne and every other title that she had added on to the end of it.

You couldn’t help yourself when you approached Jon Snow, however. He had claimed that he was leaving for Dragonstone to seek out the help of the Targaryen. Though you disapproved, you insisted on accompanying him. If Jorah was truly serving this Daenerys Targaryen, then he would follow her to the ends of the world. No matter the wrongs he has made, he was the most loyal man you ever knew. If she was at Dragonstone, then so was he.

Reluctantly, Jon Snow had agreed. Lyanna took much more time to convince, but you finally managed to change her mind. You debated a lot on taking your sweet son with you, but decided against it. Lyanna and Sansa would look after him. From all the times you had said goodbye to someone, his was the hardest. Your (E/C) eyes welled with tears, dripping from your nose and chin. He cried as well, and refused to let go of your leg. Finally, Lyanna managed to pry him from you before giving you a hug as well. You promised to return as soon as you could. Then you set off.

*At the Citadel*

When the young man had asked Jorah if there was any family that he should write to, he thought about you. His lovely wife and his lovely son. How he wished that he could write to you, telling you how much he stilled loved you and loved Jaran. He knew, however, that writing of his untimely death would kill you as much as it killed him. Deciding against it, he told the man that he was estranged to his family.

Little did he know that those words would soon be false.

*At Dragonstone*

When you met Daenerys, you weren’t surprised that Jorah had sworn fealty to her. She was strong and willful and took what she wanted. In all actuality, you could see some of him in her. And it broke your heart.

When she learned who you were, she was beyond surprised. Jorah never mentioned a wife or a child. One would think that those would be important things to mention to your queen. But since he believed that he would never see either of you again, he decided that it would be better if he tried to forget you. He found that to be impossible.

One night, out of nowhere, you received a summons from the young queen. Instead of asking you for anything material, she asked you for information. “You are Ser Jorah’s wife? And the father of his son?” You nodded your head to both softly, smiling softly. “My lady, did you know that Ser Jorah had received a royal pardon? He could have returned home to you, but he didn’t. He stayed here, with me.” At first, you were surprised at the fact that he had received a royal pardon. Your soft smile returned and your eyes softened with it. You knew that she wasn’t trying to bait you or instigate you. The child was merely curious, because a child she was.

“Your Grace, that doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure Jorah thought that I had moved on, left him for another. It had been five years, after all. Seeing me with another would kill him. Besides, he felt that your cause was worth fighting for, despite everything else.” You could see the guilt in her eyes, so you reached out and took her hand in your own. “Your Grace, I am not angry. Far from it, in fact. Jorah is a loyal man. If he believes you to be the best ruler for this country, then so do I. He does not choose sides so easily.”

Your answer seemed to be enough for the young queen, considering that she became much more open to you afterwards.

——

It had been a few days after your talk with the Targaryen queen. An unfamiliar boat was seen approaching the island, so you opted to stay in your chambers while everything was being sorted out. You read for those few hours, unknowing of what was happening in the hall so close to you.

When Jorah arrived, he had no knowledge of your presence on the island. He was taken directly to Daenerys, who smiled broadly when she saw him. After finding out it was he who had arrived at Dragonstone, she asked that neither Jon nor Davos tell you of his arrival. It would make your reunion that much sweeter. After Jorah told his story of how he became cured, Daenerys told Missandei to take him to his chambers. Her smile told her friend enough, and that by his chambers, she meant yours.

Missandei knocked on your door gently, earning a look of confusion from Jorah and a call for her to enter from you. Jorah’s eyes widened when he heard your voice. It was one he could never forget. It was the one that sung him to sleep, that moaned his name, that sobbed with his child in your arms, the one that comforted him whenever he needed it. The door was opened slightly, and he stepped in, speechless.

You never looked up from your book. “What can I do for you, Missandei?” The young woman spoke with you often, and you were finally able to tell which knocks were hers and which weren’t. Hers were always firm, but soft at the same time. “(Y/N)...” The familiar voice caused your head to snap up and for the book to drop from your hands. There he stood, in the flesh and still alive.

“Jorah!” Your voice was strained with the sudden weight of tears behind your eyes as you stood shakily. In two large steps, he closed the distance between you two and engulfed you in his arms. You began to weep, as was he. You could feel his body shaking with sobs as you two held each other tightly. “Jorah, my love.” You heard the door close as Missandei left, a smile on her face, but didn’t register it. Pulling away slightly, you looked at his face. Your hand moved up, cupping his cheek gently. He was just as handsome as you remembered, only he was darker from the sun and his eyes sparkled with tears. For one of the first times in a long time, he found himself unable to speak.

Slowly, you stepped away so you could look at him. The clothes he wore were much different than what he wore on Bear Island, but it suited him. You could see the scars covering his forearms, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow. The fact that he still did that made you smile tearfully. Some of the scars were old and familiar, while others were fresher. He was still taller than you, and still the complete opposite. While he was all hard lines and muscle, you were soft, round curves and plump as any woman your age was. He still found you to be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

“Oh, (Y/N). I never thought I’d see you again.” The two of you broke out into fresh sobs and embraced once more. After a while, the two of you managed to calm yourselves and moved to sit on the bed. He told you of how he contracted greyscale and of how Samwell Tarly at the Citadel managed to cure him, explaining the strange scars along his arm.

“I missed you, so much. Jaran misses you.” Your voice was still as soft as fur and still held that light tone that made you sound like you were eternally happy for some unknown reason.

After a quiet moment, he leaned down a slowly placed his lips over yours in a gentle kiss. The feeling was so familiar, it reminded you of home. “How is our boy?” He asked softly, placing kisses all over your face. “He is as well as can be. He is growing so fast, my love. Soon enough, he will be more of a bear than even your father.” You said with a soft chuckle. He nodded before leaning you back into the bed, his lips finding yours once more, though the kiss held more now. After a few moments, you pulled away. “My love, we should wait. I wouldn’t want to keep the young queen waiting.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your lips again before pulling you up to stand.

“I will return soon, my love. When I do…” His voice trailed off and he bent down to place a lingering kiss against your lips, full of promise. Your heart began to beat a little faster and you could feel your face heat. Even after all these years, he still managed to make you flustered with his simple words and simple touches. He had a soft smile on his face as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before walking out.

Letting out a soft sigh, you grinned as you laid back on the bed. Your heart felt full as you thought about Jorah and the chance you had to have a real family together. It wasn’t long before Jorah returned, his face a mix of emotions. As soon as the door closed behind him, he was on top of you with his lips moving against yours. You returned the kisses but pulled away. “My love, Jorah, what’s the matter?” You asked softly. He shook his head and moved his lips back down to yours.

You knew better than to press right now, and gave into the desires you both felt. Moving your hands up his chest, you got his shirt off while he undid the laces of your dress. He pulled away for a moment, taking the time to admire the body he hadn’t seen in years. You did the same, looking over his mostly-faded scars. “I love you.” Was all he murmured before he was pulling your dress from your body and the pants from his legs. Soon enough, you were both naked and panting, stealing kisses and touching each other.

Then he was guiding his member to your own wetness, rubbing against it gently before pressing into you slowly. You let out breathy moans, resting your forehead against his chest as he began to rock against you. His thrusts were gentle and slow, but held a strength and a fierce need behind them that had you crying out. He moaned softly, his groans near your ear sending shivers down your spine. The world disappeared from around you two and became just Jorah and you, with his hips rocking into yours and your hands palming at his shoulders. The two of you climaxed together, crying out each other’s names.

He pulled out of you, laying down on the bed and pulling you into his arms. “My love, I’m sorry.” He murmured against your neck. You held him as you did before, his face buried in your chest. “For what?” You asked softly. After a moment, you felt him begin to sob. You rocked him softly, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m leaving again. North, past the wall. I’m taking you North as well, but you will go back to Winterfell. I must serve my queen.” It tore him apart. He wanted to spend time with you and Jaran, but it was his duty to serve Daenerys in whatever way he could. You felt tears begin to slide down your face as you leaned down and pressed your face against his hair. Sobbing, you held onto him tightly. “I love you. Come back to me. Come back to us.” You murmured softly and he nodded, holding onto you tightly.

It hurt, but you couldn’t stop him. You wouldn’t try and make him choose. He was your lover and always would. You knew that, no matter what, he would come back to you.

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