#today on valentines day i treated myself to renewing all my licenses

[raplinesmoon]

my friends' guys: get on the local news for buying flowers for their SOs

the guys i talk to: if you want to add me on Instagram, look me up yourself, it'll be a fun task to keep you entertained/sorry i can't go on a date with you, i already used up all my vacation days this month

[likexporcelain]

A Crack in Everything (Chapter 8/8-Epilogue) - Jonerys

Summary: Six years after their high school romance ended in emotional ruin, Daenerys Targaryen runs into Jon Snow by chance on Valentine's Day, forcing old memories to resurface. This sudden reunion could be cathartic, but it could also deepen the cracks already in their hearts. The question Daenerys grapples with is, will this all be worth it in the end?

Rating: Explicit

All chapters up on Ao3 -- find more tags/warnings/notes there

*SIX YEARS LATER*

Standing among my peers, shaking hands and bidding farewells to those I hope to see again but possibly never will, my eyes keep wandering out into the crowd around me, trying to find familiar faces in a sea of blue robes. Finally, as I finish posing for a now-former classmate's selfie, I see Jon, sidestepping through clusters of rejoicing grads. He is missing the blazer he'd left home in and the first two buttons of his white dress shirt were unbuttoned.

“Told you you'd be too hot in that jacket,” I say to him with a small smirk as his arms go around me and mine around him.

He kisses me. “You've always been smarter than me. And now you have the degree to prove it.”

While I had powered through undergrad, finishing in only a year as a transfer student, veterinary school proved much more taxing, especially having attended one of the best schools for veterinary medicine in the country. Today, I am overjoyed by my achievements, and at being able to kiss UC Davis and my career as a college student goodbye. Now I will enter the job market, interviewing for positions in veterinary clinics that will be a suitable fit for me and my family. Thankfully, with Jon's writing career taking off the way it is, we won't be starving while I find work.

As a few acquaintances pass us, I quickly introduce them to Jon. “This is my husband, Jon Snow,” I tell them with a bright smile. I'll never not love saying those words. Jon shakes hands with my former classmates one by one, greeting them politely.

“Wait, Jon, where's Ella?” I ask hastily, pulse jumping at the sudden realization that we are missing someone, but just as I'm beginning to panic, I see a shock of long red hair moving toward us. I let out a sigh of relief, because in Sansa's arms is my little girl, Rhaella Snow, in the shimmery red dress I bought her, her dark chocolate hair braided down her back like mine and her big blue eyes shining like sapphires.

“Mutti!” She squeals, smile wide and arm outstretched toward me. She used to call me Mama, but switched to Mutti a few months ago when Jon began teaching her German.

“Hi, pretty girl,” I say as I take my daughter from Sansa and give her a big, pronounced, smooch on the cheek, making her scrunch her nose and laugh one of her squeaky laughs. When she begins to squirm, I set her down beside Jon's legs. “Hold Daddy's hand, okay?”

“Vati!” she corrects while taking Jon's hand in both of her little ones. Jon winks down at her. She sticks her tongue out at him. It's their thing. He winks, she sticks her tongue out. Four years ago, just after Ella was born, Jon told me his goal in life was to make sure she grows up to be even smarter than me, and even funnier than him. So far, I'd say he's succeeding.

“Thank you so much for coming!” I tell Sansa as I bring her into an embrace. “Jon told me you were going to try to make it, but I know the drive from LA can be killer.”

Pushing her sunglasses atop her head, Sansa gives me an exasperated look. “You have no idea, Dany. I'm just grateful I survived.”

My eyebrows furrow curiously, but before I can ask for details, I realize she isn't the only Stark who made the trip.

One by one, I am greeted with big hugs from Robb and his wife, Talisa – their son, Eddie, apparently left at home under the watchful care of Grandma Catelyn – then Arya, Bran, and Rickon. All young adults now. Lastly, and surprising me the most, I am greeted by Ned, gray-haired and wrinkled, but looking no less strong than when I first met him twelve years ago.

“Congratulations, Daenerys,” he says, and there is a warmness in his eyes and sincerity in his small smile. Ned and I still aren't exactly close, but after almost six years of marriage to Jon and four years of being the mother to a little girl he loves dearly, I could see him slowly but surely coming around to the fact that the Starks and Targaryens are now one family.

“Groꞵvati!” squeals Ella from behind me before shooting away from Jon to grab onto Ned's leg.

“Gross? Are you calling me gross?” Ned asks down at her in the cooing, excitable voice he tends to use with her.

Ella had been calling Ned her grandfather since she could speak. It happened naturally, and no one ever corrected her. We'd taught her that Ned and Catelyn were not her actual grandparents, but told her she should call them whatever she feels is right, so they are Grandpa and Grandma – now Groꞵvati and Groꞵmutti – and they treat her like she's as much their grandchild as Eddie is. It was the same with the Stark kids. We'd taught Ella that they were Jon's cousins, but that didn't stop her from calling them her Aunties and Uncles – she hasn't made the switch to the German versions yet.

“I can't believe you're all here.” My eyes scan the Stark brood. Being the emotional mess I've been lately, I probably would have cried had it not been for the thousand or so people surrounding us still.

“We show up for family,” Ned answers and I give him a cheeky smile, knowing that he means it, even if it's still strange for him. “Now let's go get some lunch.”

The Starks all cheer at the suggestion and I am actually quite famished myself despite having eaten Pop-Tarts out of the pocket of my graduation robe during the ceremony.

We are instructed to meet up at one of the fanciest restaurants in Davis – Ned Stark always had a knack for finding luxury wherever he went and somehow already has a list of suitable establishments memorized.

Walking to our car, Jon has his hand in mine as we watch Ella skipping ahead of us, waving her hands up at the butterflies circling above. The most beautiful girl on the planet. That was what Jon thought I was when he saw me in Chemistry twelve years ago. I never really understood the weight of that until Ella. If Jon had looked at me and felt only half of what I feel looking at my daughter, it would still be more love and longing than I ever thought possible.

It would be a lie to say I had not worried about having children with Jon. Not only because of our relation, but because of what happened with my first pregnancy. That being said, Ella wasn't an accident. Despite my fears and our shared trepidation, I wanted a baby with Jon and he wanted one with me, so we decided not to use any birth control during a window of time where, if I conceived, I would give birth during the Summer after finishing my undergrad degree, but before starting my graduate program at UC Davis. We must be very fertile people, because after just casually attempting to conceive, the pee stick turned up positive only four weeks after having my IUD removed. Throughout my pregnancy, I would have nightmares about history repeating itself and briefly wondered if I was really ready to face childbirth again. Jon made finding the strength easier, though, and on the day I went into labor, our daughter was born healthy and smiling. The best day of my life.

At the car, Jon buckles Ella into her car seat while I tug off my graduation robe and hat, tossing them both in the trunk.

“Wow,” Jon says after Ella is situated, eyes scanning me from head to toe. “You look incredible.”

I glance down at myself in the white sun dress I'd bought the same day I bought Ella's. It was light and short with spaghetti straps. I had been worried that the robe would make me sweat under the Summer sun, which it did. “You don't think I look fat?” I ask, chewing on my bottom lip and tasting lipstick.

Stepping close to me, Jon answers “No. You look so beautiful.” His palm flattens over the gentle curve of my belly as his mouth meets mine in a deep kiss, his short beard tickling my nose and his tongue tasting of citrus gum.

Like I said, we are very fertile. This time, it was an accident. I'd switched from an IUD to the pill only to find out three months later I was one month pregnant. I believe that it was meant to be, though. I use to say I wanted two kids by the time I turned thirty, and according to my doctor, our new little one is due just two months shy of my thirtieth birthday.

I suddenly want to ditch lunch and go straight home, put Ella down for a nap so that Jon and I can “take a nap” ourselves. But it's good that the Starks are here. Jon had probably planned it this way. He knew that I would appreciate them coming to watch me graduate, but this also presents the perfect opportunity to tell them what we found out at my last check up just a week ago, that I'm carrying another girl, a little sister for Ella. “Lyanna Targaryen Snow,” I'd said to Jon as soon as the doctor revealed our baby's sex. I hadn't even gotten all the ultrasound goo off my abdomen. We hadn't discussed names yet, but Jon had simply nodded in agreement. The way his eyes glistened and the corners of his mouth twitched, I could tell it meant a lot to him.

Breaking the kiss, Jon tells me “I knew you could do this, because you can do anything, but I'm still really proud of you, Daenerys.”

“Thanks,” I reply bashfully, thinking that we could be married for fifty years and I would still blush every time Jon Snow complements me.

Jon takes me in his arms again and we hold each other for a long minute, his cheek resting on the side of my head, and his hand on the back of my right shoulder, where in two-inch cursive letters, I have tattooed “Snow” in black and blue, and a sparkle of silver.

“Time to feed my girls,” Jon says when we part.

I climb into the passenger seat. Jon is our driver. Always. Though I had finally renewed my drivers license, I only really drove when Jon was out of town, and never with Ella in the car, unless it was an emergency. As soon as I found out I was pregnant again, I gave Jon the keys and never asked for them back. I'm not a shut-in, though. Our rental house is just two blocks from the nearest grocery store, one block from the public park, and less than a mile from campus. Jon never presses me too much to drive, but I've promised him still that I will practice driving more often after Leelee is born.

“Lyanna. It was my idea. . but we're going to call her Leelee which was Jon's idea,” I say to the Starks as we eat lunch in a restaurant much too fancy for my liking. I push cranberries out of my salad and try to think up a polite way to request ketchup with my chicken.

Everyone gushes with excitement, even Ned, because after someone as perfect as Ella coming from me and Jon, how could he not feel excitement for another Targaryen granddaughter? The only person glum about the reveal was Auntie Sansa, who had been hoping for a boy since Robb stopped letting her use Eddie as a model for her children's fashion projects.

“She'll have the Targaryen hair. I can feel it,” Jon adds before taking a huge bite of his salad, and I know that the only reason he's eating so quickly is to avoid actually having to taste it. “I was right about Rhaella having Mom's hair. Leelee will have Daenerys's. Trust me on this.”

“He owes me twenty bucks if he's wrong,” I say.

Rickon chimes in with “Isn't the whole point of being married that you can get twenty bucks off each other whenever you want?”

After a big gulp, Jon answers “Nah, it's the sex, man.”

Face turning bright red, I drop my fork against the crystal salad dish and gape at my husband while the entire Stark brood erupt in laughter. Even Ned cracked a smile.

“But you can have sex without getting married,” Rickon counters.

“You can't,” Ned tells him pointedly.

“What's sex?!” Ella shouts, causing snooty patrons from adjacent tables to leer at us.

Hand over his mouth, Jon tries to keep from laughing too hard. I simply turn to my daughter, who sits in a booster seat right beside me, and tell her plainly “Sex is something your daddy is going to be doing all by himself for a very long time.”

Her little mouth tightens and her eyebrows raise. “Vati is in trouble.”

I nod and brush some of the crumbs from her dress. When I look back at Jon, I smile, because he isn't really in trouble. His arm goes around my shoulders and I lean into him.

The rest of lunch is spent largely with Ned interrogating Jon about his work, wanting to know every detail of what his agent has been setting up for him and what sort of deals he is getting from the publishers. He doesn't want to see his nephew taken advantage of and I find that to be sweet, but the constant logistics talk bores me half to sleep. I much prefer discussing the contents of Jon's novels and his writing in general, to talk of money and creative rights.

Writing is the perfect career for Jon, not only because he is incredibly talented – more talented than he will ever understand – but also because it means Jon gets to work almost exclusively from home. While he isn't exactly a househusband, he did take care of Ella whenever I was at school and will continue to be a stay-at-home Dad, so to speak, after I find permanent employment. Things get tricky when he has to travel, but I make it work without much complaining, because if Jon being successful at something he loves means I have to use the toilet as a desk to do homework while I watch Ella bathe, I'm going to power through it.

Ned has a row of hotel rooms booked for all the Starks to stay in over night and Jon and I will eat breakfast with them in the morning before they head back to Los Angeles. Right now, though, all I want to do is go home and crawl into bed with Jon. Ned suggests taking Ella for the rest of the day, and I gratefully accept the offer. In just four months, we will have a newborn to take care of on top of our responsibilities to Ella, so any time I am able to be alone with Jon until then I treat like a second honeymoon.

Once Ella's car seat is transferred into Ned's Tesla, I say goodbye to the Starks, then to my daughter with another smooch on her smooth cheek.

Jon drives us home, to our quaint craftsman. It's cute with hardwood floors, forest green walls, a small backyard with a swing set, and most importantly, a dishwasher, but I am still looking forward to buying our own place once I settle on a job. Someplace North I hope, where it will snow every Winter. A little two-story log cabin on a five acre lot, trees everywhere except in the pasture where our future goats will graze, a small pond where Ella and Leelee will swim in the Summertime. I have it all planned out, but this time, it's all going to happen.

The first thing Jon does when we get inside is turn on the air conditioning while I go to the backdoor to let Ghost inside. Jon had brought home a three month old Husky puppy not long after we moved to Davis four years ago. “I had to get him, Daenerys,” he'd passionately explained. “He was born the same week as Rhaella. It's a sign.”

We didn't exactly fight that night, but I was frustrated at him that he hadn't given me a heads up. We'd moved our lives upstate only a month after I gave birth so that I could start veterinary school, we were still only half unpacked, and I was already pissed off from a long day of trying to pump my breast milk in between classes. And what was he doing all day? Getting a puppy. I could only remain mad at him for a couple hours, though. As soon as Ghost fell asleep in a spooning position against Ella's side, it was hard not to agree with Jon that this dog belonged with us. And, after all, a giant dog was always part of my plan. Now four years old, Ghost is the same age as Ella but the same size as myself. If he stood on his hind legs, he may actually be taller than me. A gentle giant, but a great watch dog for when Jon is out of town for some event related to the release of one of his books.

I kick off my flats and go into the kitchen to scoop out some dry food for him. While he eats, I go to the cupboards and start eating Birthday Cake Oreos from the package. Jon's arms wrap around me from behind and I feel his lips on my neck, then his tongue. I'm always hungry, but even more so, I'm always horny. Aside from immanent danger toward myself or my family, sex is probably the only thing that gets me to forget about food. So I shove the Oreo package back in the cupboard and turn around in Jon's arms, pressing my mouth to his in a deep and powerful kiss that leaves us both breathless when we finally part.

In a swift motion, Jon stoops slightly, puts one arm around my back, the other behind my knees and lifts me up. My arms wrap around his neck while he carries me to our bedroom, giggling with a pink sheen across my cheeks.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I unfasten Jon's belt while he removes his shirt. His shoes come off and I drop his belt to the floor. He's so hard already, his erection pressing against the fabric of his chinos. I pull the zipper down, then force his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock. When I wrap my hand around him and stroke, he lets out a soft moan, hand resting on the side of my head. When I wrap my mouth around him, he gasps, fingers clenching my hair where it is plaited behind my head.

“Shit,” he hisses under his breath, the same way he does when he can't find his phone. But as I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock while I suck, he follows it up with “Fuck, baby. You're so hot. I want to fuck you so bad.” He certainly doesn't say that when he loses his phone.

After reveling in his dirty talk for another minute, I pull away from him and move to the center of the bed where I pull my dress off over my head. My bra is off too by the time Jon is naked and crawling after me. I know that after having Ella, and being pregnant now, my body isn't as attractive as it was six years ago, or twelve years ago, but the way Jon's dark eyes caress me hungrily, I forget all about that. When Jon looks at me, there is no one more beautiful than me. The most beautiful girl on the planet.

He moves me onto my back and slides my panties off for me. My knees raise. I want him to have me. All of me. Right now.

“Hmm?” Jon hums as he moves between my legs.

I realize I had said “Right now” out loud. Leaning up on my elbows, I run my tongue across my bottom lip and say “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says with a sweet smile, then kisses me soft on the mouth.

That was the end of being sweet and soft, though. After that, he was lifting my leg over his hip, latching his mouth to my neck and pushing his cock all the way inside me. I moan and whimper, digging my fingers into his back as he slowly but surely begins to fuck me the way I like him to, hitting that special spot inside of me like a pro. I feel one of Ella's stuffed animals squeezed under my back, but I don't have time to worry about that. I raise a hand to Jon's head, weaving my fingers in his loose curls and bring him up so I can sweep my tongue inside his mouth. His fingers massage my swollen breast and when his fingers brush my hard nipples I'm left gasping against his open mouth.

“Oh, God,” I breathe. “Make me cum, Jon.”

Those words were all he needed. After grazing my bottom lip between his teeth, he leans up, sitting back on his heels and lifting my ass up. One of Jon's hands squeezes my knee to keep my legs open for him, while the other slides down to my pussy. My muscles tense and my chest heaves as he fucks me even harder while his fingers rub circles against my clit. I slap both hands over my mouth to keep from crying out – a habit formed over years of trying to have sex while Ella sleeps in the adjacent bedroom.

I feel heat boiling under my skin. I'm so close. So close, and Jon's groans are growing louder and more sporadic, telling me he's almost there as well. We feed off each other. Knowing he's about to cum brings me even farther to the edge, and vice versa. My back arches and I'm nearly screaming against my sweaty palm when suddenly my already foggy eye line is bombarded by a flash of white. White fur, big red eyes and a long tongue darting out to taste the sweat on my forehead.

“Ghost!” I shout, moving my hands from my mouth to shove our dog away from me. “Off the bed! Off!”

Ghost is so heavy he makes the side of the bed sink down as his legs dance for a few seconds before I manage to get him to turn and hop down to the floor.

“Shit,” Jon hissed under his breath just as he'd done when my mouth was on him. In my squirming to get Ghost off of me, his cock had slipped out of my pussy and now Jon just sits, shaking his head down at me. “Well, that was quite the finale.”

“Why didn't you close the bedroom door?” I ask him, breathing fast and hard, eyes glaring.

“Why didn't you leave Ghost outside?” he retorts before getting off the bed and leading Ghost out of our bedroom.

“It's a million degrees outside! I'm not a monster!” As Jon finally shuts our door, with Ghost on the other side of it, I sit up to pull the stuffed bear from under me. After dropping it to the floor, I look down at myself. “Fuck, Jon, you came all over me!”

At that, Jon bursts out laughing, almost doubling over before he can crawl back onto our bed. I groan at the mess of white fluid spattered across my tummy and thighs – I even feel sticky under my butt – but I can't help but chuckle. And when Jon brings one of Ella's old shirts to my legs to clean me up, my chuckles turn to laughter. I lay back, smiling and catching my breath while my husband finishes wiping his cum off of my stomach with a toddler-sized Wonder Woman t-shirt.

“How do you say 'Your dog totally fucked up my orgasm' in German?” I ask.

Smiling wide, Jon tosses the soiled t-shirt across the room, then lies down on his side beside me. “I don't know. That phrase isn't in my flash cards. I think the Sexual Intercourse Mishaps expansion-pack got lost in the mail. I do, however, know how to say 'I left my cat in the grocery store.'”

“How useful,” I laugh, scooting a couple inches closer to Jon so that I could feel his warm skin against mine. He sits up for a moment to reach a throw blanket at the foot of our bed then pulls it across us both before settling back down, our heads resting on the same pillow.

“Guess what?” Jon asks while his fingers brush some stray hairs from my still-sweaty face.

“Hmm?”

Amusement in his voice, he says “Now that you've graduated. It's official. We're both vets.”

I side eye him with a smirk. “Have you been waiting four years to tell that joke?”

Bashfully, he nods before kissing my cheek.

My eyelids feel heavy as Jon's hand begins to gently rub my hip. “I'm just going to take a nap for like, a half hour, and then we can try again,” I whisper.

Close to my ear, Jon murmurs “Okay. Rest up, Daenerys Targaryen – best friend, love of my life, mother of my children – because when you wake up, I'm fucking you doggy-style.”

I snort a laugh and shove him away from me only to turn and curl up against his side, resting my cheek on his chest. When I stop laughing, I close my eyes, relaxing once more into the feel of Jon's skin.

A few moments of silence engulf us before Jon speaks again. “You know, now that I've had a taste of getting to cum all over you, I don't know if I'll be able to go back to just cumming inside you.”

The corners of my mouth twitched upward. “Jon Snow,” I whisper as my hand gently caresses his side. “Best friend, love of my life, father of my children – please, shut the fuck up.”

Jon's arms wrap around me, enveloping me in his firm embrace as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. And then I feel his body relax beneath me and I can finally drift off to sleep to the sound of my husband's heartbeat, lying in the yellow light of the afternoon sun coming in through the sheer curtains, content to count this as another best day of my life, because it is another day spent being loved by my family.

THE END