#tormund

[axelsagewrites]

Tormund*Real Man

Pairing: tormund x f!reader

Kinktober Day twelve: exhibitionism with Tormund – while wildlings talk freely about sex Tormund enjoys watching your blush at even the mention of it making it even more fun to tease you when you come to tend to his wounds

Word count: 2003

Warnings: this is actually technically not smut aka no sex but there is heavy teasing, mentions of sex, heavy flirting, flashing, and physical descriptions.

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

When you escaped Winterfell, finally fleeing from Ramsay’s grip, you headed straight for the wall, straight for Jon. You had been close friends growing up, always lurking in the shadows with him or chasing after Robb. However, you were also trained in medicinal herbs by your mother, a servant who couldn’t just call for a maester when someone grew ill. So, despite his worries Jon agreed you should stay and help tend to the fallen.

What you hadn’t expected was being sent to tend the wilding. You had been locked away during the battle, for safety more than anything so you were shocked to learn when Jon fetched you that he had taken a hostage.

“He’s in pretty bad shape,” Jon warned as you walked the corridor with him down to a storage room that had been converted into a cell of sorts for the wilding. “I don’t think he could hurt you if he wanted but I’ll be every second,” he had assured you as you tentatively stepped into the room.

“Crow,” a hoarse voice came from the corner of the room. Jon held up his torch, revealing the wildling. He was big, that’s for sure, and his hair was almost as bright as the Tully’s. a scraggly beard covered his face and a grimace behind it, “Came to finish the job?”

“Not quite Tormund,” Jon said, stepping closer to the wildling who spat at his feet, “I brought help. She’s a healer, well the closest thing we have to one,”

The man looked passed Jon, his cold blue eyes looking straight at you leaving a strange feeling in your gut. A smirk slowly crept on his face, “She’s a pretty one alright. Guess if I have to die, I might as well go with a pretty face looking at me,”

You were grateful for the poor lighting, hoping it disguised your blush as Jon hushed the man. Jon turned back to you while you tried to ignore the way Tormund was staring at you, “Do you need anything?”

You glanced to the man before your eyes quickly met Jon’s again, “More light,” you said quietly, “I can’t heal him in the dark,”

“Great idea lass,” Tormund pipped up, his voice making you jump when you realised, he was listening, “Can barely even see you in this shit hole,”

His jabs were ignored by Jon who soon lit another couple torches in the room and finally you were able to see him properly. As you walked over you could see blood seeping through his clothes, leaving dark patches, “Um I need to see your wounds,” you said, your voice quiet and plagued with stutters.

Tormund grinned at your words, “Trying to undress me already? Your southern women are forward crow,” he teased Jon who was quick to remind him he was a prisoner here. Tormund rolled his eyes as his hands reached for his top, but you noticed his winces and knew it was no use.

“Here let me,” you said, pulling at the fabric, trying your best not to blush or embarrass yourself as you slowly manoeuvred the fabric over his head.

“Like what you see?” Tormund asked, his eyes glued to yours as you tried desperately to not show that you did.

Instead, you turned your attention to his wounds. The top of his arm was badly wounded, you wondered if an infection was already growing from the sight of him. A few more scratches covered his bodies, and a particularly nasty slice went across his stomach. “I’ll need to clean these,” you told him, pulling out a cloth and treatment for his wounds, “this might sting,”

“Fuck!”

--

You had to check on him at least three times a day to check his bandages and wounds since your suspicion was right and an infection had begun to creep in. at first Jon took you each time but when he was busy he would send another in his place but as he prepared for a greater threat you assured him you would be fine.

After all each time you went it was the same routine. You helped Tormund take off his top layers, changed his bandages, applied new lotions, then more bandages all while he shamelessly flirted with you. at first each sweet word or lewd suggestion was met with blushes and stuttering but it had oddly become a welcome routine for you though you never responded to his flirts.

“Morning Tormund,” you greeted as you unlocked the door and entered his cell.

He was sat on his bed, finally feeling able to do more than lay down, with his shirt already off, “I thought you’d forgotten about me,” he grinned as you moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling out your supplies.

while the sight of his bare chest had made you blush originally you had seen it so often the affects had worn off. However, as you were changing the bandage on his arm your eyes glanced down and you felt your skin heat up. At first you had thought he was only bare chested but as you looked down you could clearly see his naked hip, only covered by furs.

You glanced at Tormund for just a moment before your eyes darted back to the wound, trying your best to keep your breathing calm. Out the corner of your eye however you saw the cogs begin to turn in his head, a small smirk stretching onto his lips. “Are you alright little dove?” his voice snapped you back to reality.

You could feel your skin flush as you shot him a quick smile as you assured him nothing was wrong. However, his eyes watched you with fascination the whole time. “That one’s done,” you said, tucking the soiled bandages into a bag you had brought. “One second,” you told him as you went to shuffle back, allowing you to reach his stomach more easily.

“Allow me,” he grinned, shuffling up the bed slightly to give you better access to his midsection but also a new sight. you tried your best not to look but you found yourself catching a quick sight. the furs covered his manhood, but the new position meant it was all you couldn’t see. In fact, it was the most you had ever seen of a man.

As your hands moved to take off his next bandage you mentally cursed yourself for trembling, “Are you sure you’re alright?” Tormund asked, mock concern in his voice as his hand reached up to push the hair out your face making you shiver, “You seem very,” he paused thinking of a word before smirking, “flustered,”

“I’m fine,” you said again, trying to keep your voice steady as you reached for a damp cloth.

“Tell me something little dove,” Tormund said, using his favourite new nickname for you apparently, “Have you ever seen a man before? a real man I mean. Not just some crow boy,”

You paused for a moment, debating whether you should even answer his taunts, “No,” you finally stated as you reached for the ointment to apply.

You dabbed a cloth in it however as you pressed it against his skin you gasped as his hand wrapped around your wrist, “Do you want to?” he asked, a glint behind his eyes that only served to deepen your flush, “You southerners are so sensitive,”

“I’m a northerner,” you tried to say it firmly, but it came out like a child arguing about their bedtime.

Tormund chuckled, letting go of your wrist, “No little dove. Us northerners don’t even bat an eye at a little skin. Any free woman would already be climbing under these sheets. Whereas you,” he said, suddenly leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “you pretend as though you don’t want to see it,” he whispered, his tone taunting.

Your hand reached up to his chest, pushing hard back onto it. You knew he could’ve stopped you if he wanted to but he let himself fall back into the furs with a smirk, “I’m trying to work,” you stated firmly, reaching out to apply his treatment, “and if you don’t wish to have these wounds reinfected I suggest you let me,”

“Why do you care so much if I get better?” he asked, his head cocking to the side, “it’s almost as if you don’t want me to die. Tell me little dove, what is it you want?”

A thousand things came to mind but instead you only said three words, “To go home,”

The room was silent for a moment, Tormund nodded in agreement, “Aye, me too,” he said, and you wondered if for a moment he would be serious but yet again you were proven wrong, “But when I go home, which I will, I will tell all my men of the southern beauty at the wall,” he said, moving to sit up again but your hand shot up to push his chest back. His hand however just clamped over yours making it hard not to blush as he stared into your eyes, “and how I showed you how a free man fucks his woman,”

“I am not your woman,” you said, your voice quiet.

“Aye,” he agreed, leaning back into his furs, “but you could be,” he said, his hand gripping the edge of his furs, “don’t you want to know,” he asked, pulling the sheets down slowly, revealing more of his V line.

However, as your eyes wandered down his body, your mind racing as you tried to stutter out a no, the ointment pot suddenly clattered to the floor, slipping from your hand in your daze. You quickly turned to retrieve the pot, grateful very little had spilled however as you turned back you froze.

Tormund had pulled the sheets further down revealing his manhood to you. a heavy flush covered your face as your eyes stared at the unfamiliar sight. while you knew he was large you foolishly had not expected his manhood to match. It was hard, its tip red and desperate to be touched. Thoughts raced through your mind, but you had no time to act.

You tried to speak but all that came out was vague stutters until a knock at the door snapped your attention back and you quickly jumped off the bed. The door opened suddenly to reveal a very serious looking Jon, “I need you to take a look at Gilly,” he said, his eyes glancing towards Tormund.

You looked back at the wildling and released he must’ve recovered himself in your panic, “She’s not finished with me yet crow,” Tormund said, his voice far gruffer when he spoke to Jon instead of you.

“Aye well she’ll be back later,” Jon said, stalking across the room, “I’m sure you can wrap this around yourself,” he said as he tossed a bandage out your bag at him before he turned back to you with an expected look.

You nodded, quickly gathering your things as Jon moved to wait beside the door, “Goodbye pretty girl,” Tormund whispered as you packed your things, “If you ever want to know what a real man feels like you know where to find me,” he added as you finally were able to walk away.

Jon shot you a questionable look as you rushed out the room, your cheeks flaring up when you heard Tormund calling after you, “Until next time little dove,” he called making Jon slam the door, locking it quickly behind him.

“Is he bothering you?” Jon asked as he led you towards Gilly’s room, “If you feel you need an escort all you need to do is ask,” he said.

Jon looked at you with a mix of concern and confusion written on his face as you considered his offer before shaking your head, “I can handle him,” you said however you wondered if you were right, but you did know one thing. Tormund was officially stuck in your head.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

#tormund #tormund giantsbane #tormund x reader #tormund smut #tormund imagine #tormund fanfic #tormund giantsbane x reader #tormund giantsbane smut #tormund giantsbane imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones smut #game of thrones x reader #kinktober

[mojogifs]

Tormund Giantsbane / Game of Thrones

#game of thrones #tormund giantsbane #kristofer hivju #gotedit #asoiaf #tormund #mojogifs

[2braincellslz]

Some times a family is:

An unlikely couple

Childhood best friends couple

The two princesses who treat the other like a princess couple

A aromatic

And a asexual

All rasing dogs.

#gays on the fyp #theon greyjoy #jon snow #jon snow x tormund #jon x tormund #tormund #game of thrones throbb #throbb #game of thrones #game of thrones incorrect quotes #theon greyjoy x robb stark #robb stark x theon greyjoy #theon x robb #robb x theon #margery tyrell #margaery x sansa #sansa stark #sansa #sansa x margaery #arya stark #arya is aromatic #bran stark #gays in love #stan gay icon #small boy #family #got #got memes #inncorrect game of thrones quotes #game of thrones memes

[frying-panties]

Game of Thrones but it's The Bear 🤠

My friend came up with "Restoros" as the Restaurant's name. I do enjoy putting GOT characters into these silly little settings. And if you haven't snuck a peek before, another more beachy theme is arriving us soon!

#got #game of thrones #petyr baelish #littlefinger #aidan gillen #ygritte #tormund #arya stark #joffrey baratheon #brienne of tarth #art #doodle #artist #commission #digital art #procreate #drawing #commissions #digital drawing #illustration

[simo0n]

I'm late to Game of Thrones party, but I still want to show you my ginger weakness— Tormund🔥

#GoT #game of thrones #game of thrones fanart #tormund giantsbane #tormund #my art 2022

[author-morgan]

Title: Cold Hands Pairing: Tormund Giantsbane x fem!Reader Rating: M Summary: After the Battle of Castle Black, Jon needs someone to ensure their wildling prisoner makes it through the night. Because Tormund's the type you just want to rage fuck and I've been looking for an excuse to write for him since like 2017. tagging @mrsragnarlodbrok suffer with me

THE STEWARDS’ QUARTERS are dimly light and crowded in the wake of the night’s battle with the wounded members of the Night’s Watch. You rise from looking over little Olly’s scrapes and bruises, passing the boy a cup of watered ale to help him sleep —forget the horrors of the fighting. Castle Black was no place for a woman, and every estranged look cast in your direction from one of the men reminded you of that. Frowning, you wipe your hands on a stained apron and step outside into the frozen air. Below, men are clearing out the dead, a mix of wildlings and their own brothers, and beginning to make repairs to fortify the defenses should there be another attack. Jon Snow approaches you and lowers his head in greeting. “I have someone I need you to tend to,” he utters.

Castle Black’s dungeon is not large, only a single line of iron-barred cells in a short corridor —unoccupied save for the hulking figure at the very back in chains and pocked with broken arrows and crossbow bolts. He wears the thick, mismatched furs of the wildlings, but the fire in his hair is unmistakable. Tormund Giantsbane. Jon unlocks the cell and steps back, letting you pass. “Hurt a hair on her head,” Jon Snow starts, ice in his voice, “and you’ll be joining your kin on the pyre.”

You give Jon Snow a final nod of assurance —you’ve dealt with worse men than Tormund Giantsbane— and the bastard retreats down the corridor as you set down a flagon of icy water and a satchel of herbs and vials. “Tormund,” you greet, unwilling to shy away from his burning bright-blue stare. His notoriety spans north and south of the Wall —the man who suckled a giantess’s teat and fucked she-bears. Someone who you wouldn’t have expected to find stuck like a pincushion and locked away.

“Heard them say you’re a witch,” he grunts, hiding a scowl as you prod the arrow in his shoulder. You lift a curious brow. The crows call you a wood’s witch. In truth, you’re only a skilled herbalist with knowledge acquired from patching up members of the Night’s Watch over the years. Maybe it is a good thing they call you a witch —the men of the Watch didn’t much care for spirits and magic. “Don’t look like a witch,” Tormund notes, his voice rough. “All the witches I’ve known had warts and crooked noses” —he glares when you pull the first arrow from him without warning, knowing they were only bodkin points — “lived in trees.”

You lay a damp cloth over the bleeding wound before sliding around to his back. The arrows needed to be removed before you could strip him of the heavy furs to properly tend him. “If I had a cock,” you start with a dry laugh, “they’d call me a maester and give me a heavy chain to wear ‘round my neck.” Pressing your hand next to a second arrow, you wiggle the broken shaft, ensuring the arrowhead would come free too when you finally pull. You see the muscles in his neck tense.

“No more crows to worry over?” Tormund asks, voice gruff. Weren��t no more than a hundred men defending Castle Black on the ground and from above —a few more warriors in his warband, and they could’ve taken the castle to let Mance Rayder walk through the gates to the south.

“None that require my skillset.” He looks back, lifting a bloody brow in question. “Plucking arrows from men” —you snatch the third and final arrow from his back and toss it aside, all that’s left is the crossbow bolt in his leg— “sewing them back up.” Sitting back in front of him, you reach for the ties and straps of his clothes. Grimacing, he helps you divest himself of the layers until your icy fingertips brush against his broken and heated flesh. The wildling is barrel-chested with broad shoulders and strong arms —a testament to hard living beyond the Wall. Tormund lets you work in silence —defeat still leaves a sour taste on his tongue

HE SHIFTS AT the sound of footfalls on the stone, too light to belong to any of the crows. Between the torchlight and the few burning braziers, Tormund can see it is his sweet healer come to visit or torment him. The shackles on his ankles clink together against the stone floor as he moves around, scooting forward as you grow closer. “Couldn’t stay away,” he muses as you stop in front of his cell, setting down your satchel and water flagon. 

“Daily rounds to see all my wards,” you counter, pulling a wrought iron key from the inside of your sleeve. You’d convinced Jon you could handle the wildling chieftain —maybe it was foolish of you to think that.

“Best for last?” He asks, laughing.

You huff, rolling your eyes as you unlock the cell, stepping inside. “You must be feeling better,” you note, setting out all your supplies.

Tormund drops the last of his layers —a stained wool tunic— next to him as you kneel with a damp cloth and fresh salve. He seizes your hands, startling you, but does nothing more than hold them between his own —his fingertips are rough, palms warm, wholly engulfing yours. “You got cold hands,” Tormund mutters, seeing the question form in your eyes.

“Didn’t think wildlings minded the cold,” you note, holding his gaze. He doesn’t say anything, just grunts in response and keeps your hands held in his for a moment longer before letting you carry about changing his wounds’ dressings.

But curiosity gets the better of him. He’s not known the Night’s Watch to keep a woman on hand. “How does you staying here with all these crows work?” Tormund asks —the muscles in his back tense when a cool, damp cloth touches his skin.

“Didn’t stay with the crows,” you tell him, removing a day-old cataplasm from his shoulder, washing away flecks of ground herbs left behind. “Stayed in Mole’s Town.” It was a small unpleasant village, but it meant you were close to the Wall —the Lord Commander paid for your services as a healer with how few men were currently in the Night’s Watch and with Maester Aemon growing frailer by the day. “Or I did,” you pause, remembering the grey smoke rising from the south a few days ago, “before your lot put it to the torch.” He wears a curious look as though to ask how you escaped his warband. “Was already here tending to those who went out north of the Wall.”

“Fate then,” he decides —the Old Gods must have meant for your paths to cross.

OF ALL THE men currently under your care, Tormund is your favorite, though you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that —it’d make him nigh unbearable. He’s no longer kept in the dark cells below ground, despite still being a prisoner, or perhaps hostage, depending on what Stannis Baratheon and Jon Snow have planned. They’ve moved him to an empty room in one of the decaying towers of the castle. You unlock the door, finding him pacing along the perimeter of the small room. “Come to enchant me?” He asks, still finding it amusing that the crows would call a woman like you a witch.

“Thought I already had,” you laugh, watching as he starts tugging at his outer furs without instruction, “and that’s why you’ve been such a good boy.” Tormund Giantsbane wasn’t even half as stubborn as some of the Rangers who’ve come into your care over the years —like Benjen Stark when he came back from north of the Wall with an arrow in his shoulder.

“Boy?” Tormund bristles. “A boy doesn’t have a cock–” his voice fades into a hiss when you press the vinegar-soaked rag to the worst of his wounds. He glares at you, but then his hard stare softens when you smile. Tormund’s mind wanders, unable to stop himself from thinking what’d it be like to lay with a woman from south of the Wall —and if you’d still have that sharp tongue with his cock buried inside your cunt. “Can show you I’m not a boy,” he says, lips twitching upward under his ginger beard. “Doubt you’ve ever had a real man.”

Your gaze flits up to meet his, undeterred by his advances. It’s not the first time you’ve suffered through them, and you doubt it’ll be the last if you continue working with men who’ve sworn to be celibates. “That all you can think about?” You ask —more so teasing than chiding— unwrapping the strip of linen from around his leg. The poultice has kept infection at bay, though this wound is healing slower than the others.

“When I’m looking at a pretty woman,” Tormund replies in all sincerity, leaning forward.

You can feel warmth rushing to your cheeks, but you won’t let yourself look away elsewise he’ll know you’re not immune to his charms. “Well” —you smile, thinking of the conversation you’d overhead between Jon and Stannis— “you’re soon to be looking at a pretty crow named Lord Commander Snow.”

TORMUND GIANTSBANE IS no longer a prisoner under Jon Snow. The Lord Commander means to take him and a score of men to Hardhome and let the wildlings settle in the Gift to escape the encroaching Long Night. Jon knows he’s the only person the others will listen to in the wake of Mance Rayder’s death. The air in the common hall is thick with something you cannot describe —the members of the Night’s Watch have not taken kindly to Stannis’s men or the red-haired wilding sitting below the high table.

Olly sits next to you and Edd with a white-knuckle grip on his spoon, the taste of betrayal sitting bitterly on his tongue. Your gaze flits between the boy, Jon, and finally to Tormund. The wildling’s cold stare is already on you. Edd raises a brow when he sees how quickly you look away, cheeks tinged with warmth.

After some time, you take leave of the common hall, turning to the tower with a small room where Ser Alliser Throne said you could reside, as there was nowhere left for you to go. Tormund trails after you —and before you can shut the door to your chamber for the night, he stops you from doing so. “Didn’t come tend my wounds last night,” he laments, pouting almost.

“You’re going to live,” you assure him, letting him come in anyways. Last you checked, none of his wounds were close to festering, and all were healing cleanly and quickly. Untying your apron and belt, you set them aside and turn back to Tormund, half-smiling. “It’d be a waste of herbs and linen.” Those herbs and flowers would be precious commodities with winter fast approaching. He watches as you empty your satchel on the table and replenish the supplies in quiet awe —his sweet healer with cold hands. “You gonna tell me why you’re really here?” But you’re almost certain you already know, and you’ve no objections, either. 

Tormund doesn’t answer at first. Instead, he steps behind you and cranes his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as his arm slides across your middle, pulling you back nigh flush against him. “You know,” he rasps at your ear. The tickle of his beard against your neck is all the warning you have before his lips brush over your skin. Sighing, you tilt your head to the side, melding into his warmth and wandering hands. He tugs impatiently at the laces on the front of your woolen dress, but you swat away his hands and make quick work of the ties and break from his hold to shimmy out of the heavy garment. It leaves you in a thin shift, scarcely protection from the frigid air of the North —though the fire in Tormund’s darkened stare does set your blood aflame.

You step to him, curling your fingers into the soft leather and fur on his chest, and he pounces like a wildman. His kiss is soft at first, a gentle caress of the lips, but it grows deeper when his tongue coaxes you into what becomes a series of leisurely kisses, though each one feels more urgent than the last. Tormund’s hands wander to the small of your back, then along the curve of your bum, bunching up the fabric of your shift until he can grip onto the bare meat of your thighs. He must think you weigh nothing by the way he lifts you, opening your legs until they’re wrapped around his waist, your arms around his shoulders, lips never straying far from his.

He places you on the edge of the bed, then begins with the ties of his clothes and boots —throwing the leathers and furs aside in great haste— until he’s left in only a pair of sealskin shorts with the outline of his hard cock clearly visible. Tormund slips to his knees in front of you, wedging himself between your knees. Surging forward, you kiss him again, intoxicated by the moment. He’s happy to give and reluctant to part. “Thought the Free Folk didn’t kneel,” you challenge, combing your fingers through his beard.

“Only to those we choose,” Tormund tells you, dragging his rough hands along the outsides of your thighs, over your hips, pushing your shift up until you pull the thin fabric overhead, dropping it to the stone floor. You whine when his rough fingers brush over your clavicles, up the column of your neck —there’s a gentleness to the wildling chieftain you would have never thought existed. Tormund’s hand grips your jaw, forcing you to keep his gaze —affirmation he’d chosen to kneel before you.

Without another word, he leans down and presses small kisses around your breast, looking up at you the whole time. The small pecks soon turn into sloppy, open-mouthed kisses as his eyes close in focus. You reach down, carding your hands through his fiery hair —encouragement. He continues to inch closer and closer until he latches onto your nipple and sucks hard, using his hand to play with your other one. He pulls back just for a moment to nip at it. “Tormund,” you breathe, burying your hands into his fiery locks.

Tormund moves his hands to the soft insides of your thighs, squeezes them, then leans down, placing a kiss below your navel. You jump at the tickle of his beard, and his low chuckle rattles through you both, sending a wave of warmth washing over you, pooling low in your belly as he moves farther down. He groans at the sight of your cunt —slick already and begging to be feasted upon, and feast he will. He laps at you, firm but gentle, the corners of his lips turning up in a smile when he reads the pleasure making your gaze go soft and unfocused.

Then you lose conscious thought the second he wraps his lips around your clit, hands holding you firmly in place as he laps and licks through your folds, methodical and slow with a long and low groan. Tormund’s fingers brush through your folds, gathering the slick there, and he eases one finger into your cunt, curling, and stroking, then adds a second. He’s doing something devastating —the gentle pressure with each flick of his tongue— your breath comes in short gasps, chest heaving until it all erupts with white sparks. “All southrons sweet as you?” He asks, scraping his beard along the inside of your thigh, fingers still working you down from the sudden high.

“I am from the North, Tormund,” you remind him, amused.

“South of the Wall, though,” he refutes, giving one final nip to the inside of your thigh before withdrawing his sopping fingers and sucking them clean —eyes never leaving yours. It sends a shiver down your spine. He rises from his knees, and you stand too, hands going to the ties of his underpants. Kicking aside the last of his clothing, he lets you push him back to the bed and climb atop him like you’ve won some great victory.

He’s splayed out beneath you, looking up at you with those clear-blue eyes, clouded with lust, like a challenge. He let you win. You know that — he knows that. But here you are, straddling him with your fingers intertwined in his, pinning his hands above his head. He can easily turn the tables —flip you over and hold you down, and make you beg for him until you can't take it anymore. He can do all of that, but he doesn’t. No, Tormund Giantsbane likes the feeling of your weight above him, pressing him into the mattress, and he wants to see where this will go.

You lean over him and press a kiss to his collarbone, then to the base of his neck and underside of his jaw —his beard brushes against your lips as they move further up until they’re ghosting over the corner of his mouth. He turns his head slightly, stretching up to capture your lips in a hungry kiss. You moan softly into his mouth as his tongue drags over your bottom lip, seeking entrance. He loves the taste of you everywhere —the sweetness of your tongue, the salt of your sweat, the tang of your cunt— Tormund loves it all. Perhaps you had enchanted him. 

His hips press up off the bed when your fingers wrap around his cock, stroking him from base to tip, thumb following along one of the throbbing veins on the underside. You shuffle back, guiding the weeping head of his cock between your slick folds until it catches on the entrance of your aching cunt, and you press back further sinking onto him with a lurid moan —echoed by his own strangled groan and a string of curses.

You start to rock and twist your hips, building a pleasant rhythm, working yourself on top of him. Tormund’s lips are parted, breathing heavily as he watches how your cunt takes him in over and over again, a sight that drives him to oblivion, and paired with how you whimper and moan and the feel of your breasts under his hands, he thinks he could finish then and there.

Tormund digs his heels into the bed, aiding you as you bounce and twist atop him. “Tormund,” you whimper, knowing you need more than this —you need his touch. He’s quick to answer the soft pleading, hands squeezing against your hips, arms flexing to lift and drag you across his cock himself as his hips roll upwards, pressing deeper it feels than ever before. Leaning down, you press your lips to his —panting against his mouth as your chests move against one another, hips rolling and filling the room with the sound of flesh against flesh and a chorus of low moans and breathy praises.

It’s sudden when he twists around, putting you beneath him —his weight hovering over you, cock still buried deep in your cunt. “Fucking greedy,” he groans, continuing his slow pace. Something changes in his eyes, but you cannot decipher it. Instead, you draw his face down and kiss him again. You relax inch by inch, sliding your hands over his muscled back, the ridges of his shoulder blades, and down his arms, taking the time to fully appreciate the small nicks and scars you’ve seen a dozen times over now. Then he moves again and again. Each stroke quicker and deeper than the last.

His cheeks and chest are flushed in the low light, and his hair clings to his neck and forehead as his pace picks up. Long, calloused fingers bury into your hair, angling you to look at him. His other hand slides down to where your bodies are joined, rubbing your clit, knowing by the way your walls flutter, that you're close, as is he. The budding pressure grows, setting you on another precipice ready to fall. Your body begins shuddering against his, limbs limp but jerking, neck tilted back into the furs —shining with sweat. Seeing you like this is enough to push him over too. Tormund’s body tenses, his hip stuttering, cock twitching deep inside you with a spreading warmth. His groan is strangled when he thrusts into you again, lazily —just to feel his seed begin to seep from your ruined cunt.

You feel an old sort of contentment as he lowers his weight to rest on bent forearms at either side of your head —his hazy blue eyes staring down at you, the dark red of his hair and beard wilder than you’d ever seen. Tormund dips his head down, nuzzling against the crook in your neck.

On instinct, your arms wrap around him, fingertips following one of the curving scars on his back, relishing the feeling of warmth and safety. “You’re going to come back to me,” you tell him, mussing the strands of hair at the back of his neck. Jon Snow means to set off to Hardhome at first light, he’d said as such during the evening meal, and in the following days, Stannis and his men will depart to head south, first to Winterfell and then onward to King’s Landing. But you’ve no doubt Tormund Giantsbane will return.

“Aye,” Tormund agrees, rolling to the side. He’s quick to pull you along with him and tuck you into his side. “Then we’ll see if the crows can hear us all the way from atop the Wall,” he says, squeezing a handful of your bum. You laugh, pressing your face into his chest, and he laughs too, the sound coming from deep in his belly. Though it soon turns to a wistful sigh, should the Others take him, he’s certain his last thought will be of you —his sweet healer.

[taglist: @mrsragnarlodbrok @erzsebetrosztoczy ] if you want to be added to a Game of Thrones taglist or any of my other taglists, check out this form here.

#Tormund #Tormund Giantsbane #Tormund x Reader #Tormund Giantsbane x Reader #Tormund Fanfiction #Tormund Giantsbane Fanfiction #Game of Thones #Game of Thrones Fanfiction #ASOIAF #ASOIAF Fanfiction #my writing #i went overboard for this ginger fuck #slick as a baby seal he said #and then you go inside but slowly #tell me this man does not know how to fuck #this is your fault claire

[laurellerual]

Can you draw arya, jon, ghost, nymeria, samwell and tormund chilling together? Basically jon snow and his fanclub😝

Suuure!

#cute #direwolf #samwell tarly #ghost #arya stark #jon snoe #Nymeria #Tormund #asoiaf #asoiaf fanart

[eddieheart]

Y’know what’s sad. The fact that Jon Snow could’ve left the watch to save Robb, but probably wouldn’t have been able to actually save him.

He had to leave Robb and go beyond the wall to become the man that could’ve saved Robb.

#robb stark #rob stark #Jon snow #game of thrones #GoT #asoiaf #the nights watch #the nightswatch #red wedding #the red wedding #Ygritte #tormund giantsbane #tormund

[spellbound-fanfics]

Tormund Giantsbane is MASSIVELY underrated!

In my eyes, Tormund is such an underrated character - he's literally my favourite. People tell me it's just because I think he's funny with Brienne, but that's not even close to the real reason.

Yes, he's a funny guy and he really makes me smile when I see clips of him on a bad pain day. But he's also very respectful. He saw so much beauty in Brienne. He saw her size and her skill in battle and I really think he fell for her. Which was incredibly sweet. However, what I love most about him is how he handled being rejected by the 'Big Woman'. He didn't try and convince her that he was better than Jaime, or that he'd treat her better and support all of her endeavours (which I'm certain he would do) when it came to battle and wanting to be a Knight. He didn't lash out at Jaime.

He respected her decision even though it hurt him to do so. And that is why Tormund is my favourite character.

Who is your favourite underrated character?

#Game of Thrones #GoT #Tormund #Tormund Giantsbane #Brienne of Tarth #Brienne x Tormund #Brienne x Jaime #Knights #Swords #Battle #Underrated Characters #Underrated #Giantsbane #Wildings #ASOIAF #A Song of Ice and Fire #George RR Martin #Game of Thrones series #Game of Thrones show #Lannisters

[akinatrix]

Let's be real alot of us have our tumblr history looking like this since House of the Dragon came out

#daemon x reader #rheanyra targaryen #daenerys targaryen #robb stark #tormund #targaryen supremacy #GoT #game of thrones #house of the dragon

[axelsagewrites]

Hi I was just wondering if you were gonna write more tormund real man or if it was a one time thing it's really good

Tormund*Use Your Words

Pairing: Tormund x f!northerner!reader

Word count: 1537

Warnings: f!recieving oral, m!recieving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, teasing, praise, dirty talk, a lot of swearing, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Part two to real man (here) or read as a stand alone

Being the lone woman of the wall had its challenges but with the threat of winter and the night king someone had to be here to stitch up the wounded and most of these men simply did not have your expertise. All of the men were grateful to have you stitch up their wounds and receive even just a smile however they knew they’d not survive long if they did anything else.

When lord commander snow agreed to your stay, he also agreed to give a swift punishment to any man who tried take it too far. Something neither of you had accounted for was when you would have to take care of the wildlings.

Well one specifically. Tormund teased you every time you entered his room, well prison really. His taunts made you blush and squirm under his gaze but never in a way that made you feel threatened. Instead, you would get a strange warm feeling spreading through your stomach when he’d make comments to you.

They got bolder with time. at first, he would make vague suggestions of things a pretty girl could better spend her time doing. Now when you entered, he didn’t even try to hide the way his eyes tore over your body. “One day you’ll grow sick of those boys,” he said as you applied the ointment to his now almost healed wound, “When you do, you’ll know where to find me,” he winked at you as you turned to stash the lotion back in your bag.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to him, catching him obviously staring at your ass, “Subtle,” you hummed, turning your attention to your bag once more as you tried to stall for more time. you had grown oddly found of the Firey red head.

“Never been accused of subtly,” he said, laying back down on his bed, his eyes scanning your frame still, “If you don’t ask you don’t get,”

“Oh yeah?”

He hummed with a smile, nodding his head, “Oh yes little bird. You’d be surprised how much you can get when you just use your words. You should try it sometimes,”

“And what is it I would ask of you?” you laughed, turning round with hands on your hips.

Tormund grinned, pushing himself up on his elbows, “For a proper fuck from a real man not some pretty boy like Snow,”

You couldn’t help the flush that stained your cheeks, but you could turn away from him, “Me and Jon are just friends,”

Tormund barked out a laugh, “Please. that boy would give his left arm for a chance with you,” he said as he went to stood up, “now you gonna stop pretending to be busy and look at me?”

“Who said I was pretending?” you said as you closed up your bag and turned to face him, trying to keep the tough look on your face. “I should go now,” you went to walk away but his hand shot out to grab your wrist.

It was gently enough that you could have pulled away but instead you only turned back to face him, “But you don’t want to go, do you? you want me, just as much as I want you,” he said, stepping closer till your chest was pressed against his as his other hand moved to the small of your back, “All you need to do is admit it little one,” he leaned down, his breath fanning your ear, “All you have to do is ask,”

You weren’t sure what happened but something in you snapped and suddenly his lips were on yours and your hands were in his hair. Tormund groaned into the kiss, moving back till he was sat on the bed, pulling you down to straddle his lap.

His hands moved to your hips, tugging at them to make you grind down onto his clothed hard member. you moaned into the kiss, allowing his tongue entry. Your dress had soon bunched up around your waist allowing Tormund’s hands to move down to squeeze your thighs, all while your hips continued to buck against him.

Just as you seemed to sink into a rhythm you were shocked once more by him flipping you onto your back while his lips began kissing down your neck. He squeezed your tit over your dress while he began to grind his hard on into your leg. “We shouldn’t,” you murmured, your eyes flickering close.

“Oh, but we should,” he grinned against your skin, “Tell me you don’t want to and ill stop,” he said as his hand moved to run up your thigh. You gasped when you felt his fingers run soft circles over your clit, “But your pretty little sounds make me think otherwise,”

You moaned when you felt his fingers slip into your hole, stretching you out perfectly, “So wet already,” he teased, nipping at your skin with his teeth.

Your eyes shot open when you felt him moving down, “What are you doing?” you asked as you felt his breath fan your wet cunt.

“Trust me little one. Let yourself enjoy it,” he said.

You’d been raised your whole live to distrust the wildlings but when you felt his lips wrap around your clit all while his fingers curled inside you, all that went out the window. He moved your thighs over his shoulders while his tongue worked wonders on your bundle of nerves.

You felt your thighs begin to clamp around his head and you were about to try pull them away encase you hurt him when you felt the vibrations of his moan shoot up your clit, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Tormund,” you couldn’t help but moan his name.

Times like this you were thankful Tormund lived in a room so far from everyone else since you didn’t have to hide your moans. You felt a knot in your stomach tighten and it didn’t take long till you felt yourself come to your peak on his face, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he kept going till you felt yourself sink into the sheets like melted snow and kept going till a second orgasm raged through your body.

When he came up for air his face was slick with your juices and there was a large grin on his face as you gasped for air, “Fuck you really are sweet,” he said, his lips crashing onto yours again.

“Please,” you moaned against his lips.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me,” you practically whined against his lips that soon curled into a smirk.

Tormund wasted no time in unlacing his trousers, “I’ve dreamt of you asking me that,” he said, pulling his hard cock out and running the tip up and down your slit, “Kept me up all night thinking of you,” he said, pushing the tip in,  “how you’d look under me,” he said, his eyes screwing shut as he pushed further in, “how good you’d look falling apart around my cock,” he said, pushing the rest in with one final push.

He waited a moment for you to adjust but when he felt your hips begin to buck, he wasted no time in grabbing your hips. His pace was ruthless but after being stretched with his fingers and fucked by his tongue it was exactly what you craved.

Your legs went to wrap around his waist and Tormund groaned when he felt himself sink in deeper. “Fuck you take me so well,” he groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck as his hand slipped between your bodies to rub harsh circles on your swollen clit.

You couldn’t help the moans falling from your lips especially when you felt your third peak fast approaching, “Don’t stop,” you begged him, over and over as your legs tightened around his waist.

This only seemed to drive him more insane as his hips began to snap at an almost inhuman pace as he fucked you into the bed so hard the headboard banged against the wall with each thrust, but the noises didn’t matter right now. “Cmon,” he murmured against your skin, “Cum around my cock like a good little southerner,”

You wanted to tell him he was wrong, that you were a northerner through and through, but you couldn’t even speak as your third orgasm hit you. Tormund felt your cunt squeeze around his cock and knew he couldn’t take it any longer.

He pulled out, moving quickly to sit beside you and before you could question him you felt his hand tugging at your hair. You knew what he meant and quickly wrapped your lips around his cock. He moaned loudly as you took him into your mouth, and it only took a couple seconds before you felt hot cum shoot into your mouth. You swallowed it quickly before pulling off to sit up beside him.

Tormund was panting as he tried to come down from his high as he turned to you with a fucked-out expression. “I’m a fucking northerner by the way,” you said, cutting him off when he went to speak.

A smile curved onto his lips as he laughed, “You’re fucking something alright,”

Taglist Sign Up Here

General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @perla434 @justtilly @selenestar78 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @urfavnoirette

Game of thrones taglist: @mysunflowerspace  @xyinparadise  @nyotamalfoy @asgards-princess-of-mischief @sashadevil766 @lonely-girl2423 @3lisia

Part one tags: @mariahossain @tangerinedreams23 @kissykissymouth

#tormund #tormund giantsbane #tormund x reader #tormund smut #tormund imagine #tormund fanfic #tormund giantsbane x reader #tormund giantsbane smut #tormund giantsbane imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones smut #game of thrones x reader

[thatfoxnamedfinley]

Still NOT over the fact that Jon and Tormund were endgame in GoT.

Like I shipped it. I shipped the fuck out of it. But then like...Jon goes home to the Night Watch and Tormund is just standing on a balcony waiting for him????

LIKeEe????

Remember when he called Jon the king he chose? Like WTF

WtfF

They are the TRUE power couple

#got #game of thrones #Tormund Giantsbane #tormund #jon #jon snow #jonmund #the real ship #like #the development of their friendship was amazing #truly #the true affection tormund and jon ended up having for reach other was really special #it even felt gentle and tender at times #a true gift

[radical-thots]

Jon had more chemistry with Tormund than he ever had with Dany. 

#GOT #Jon Snow #anti daenerys #jon x tormund #tormund #daenerys targaryen

[keliasavocados]

MY BABYGIRL TORMUND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I WANT TO CRY

#got #game of thrones fanart #game of thrones #tormund #tormund fanart #fanart #got fanart #brienne of tarth #jon snow #wildlings #the wall #asoiaf #asoif fanart #digital art #art #drawing #procreate #sketch

[walkofpenance]

Game of Thrones | Major Character Ranking [25/43]  ⇒ Tormund Giantsbane

“You spent too much time with us, Jon Snow. You can never be a kneeler again.” - Tormund Giantsbane.

#gameofthronesedit #gotedit #iheartgot #gameofthronesdaily #asoiafsnet #game of thrones character ranking #mine #tormundedit #tormundgiantsbaneedit #gottormund #gottormundgiantsbane #game of thrones #tormund giantsbane #tormund

[damn-stark]

Final chapter Home

Chapter 18 of Sandstorm

A/N- It’s the end 🥹

Warning- Fluff, angst, swearing and talks of death 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 AGO*

Again someone else you love is fading from your life. Once again fate is snatching something from you.

How cruel is life.

“I’ll say I forgive you,” you mutter to Daenerys and pull back to meet her watery gaze. “If you forgive me. I let my vengeance blind me. I turned against you after we swore we’d be better.” You sniffle and swallow thickly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

The corner of her lips turn to a smile and she reaches over to take your hand in hers. “I forgive you.,” she says. “I love you. All my life I spent looking for a home and when I met you I found it.”

You cry softly but manage a soft smile. “And I forgive you,” you assure her of what was weighing her down. “I don’t want you to go. Please….I’ve lost too much. Please.”

Tears stream down her pale cheeks and her thumb caresses your hand. “I’m afraid I’ve lost this fight…but I won’t be gone forever, I’ll wait for you and Daeron….” Her breaths become more shallowed and her eyes begin to droop. “At that house by the sea. Do you remember? The one you told me about.”

You nod vigorously and scoot closer to lay beside her.

“Can you describe it to me again,” she whispers. “Our vacation home. Our dream.”

“Yeah,” your voice breaks. “We’ll have a house in Sunspear, by the ocean with waters that gleam like shining turquoise diamonds...we’ll have so much space so that dragons can rest and burrow themselves in the sand.” You giggle softly. “We’ll plant lemon trees for shade and so we can pick the lemons for some refreshing juice. So while the kids play out in the water we can watch under the trees with drinks in our hands.”

Daenerys' eyes begin to slowly close, but her lips maintain that strained smile.

“And when the kids tire out we’ll put them to bed,” you add softly whilst you try hard not to break into a sob. “And then we can go outside and watch the stars that litter the dark sky together. Because the nights in Dorne are the most beautiful in the world. How does that sound?”

She doesn’t answer this time, she doesn’t flash you a beaming grin. She doesn’t breathe anymore, only cries fill the room as Daeron knows too that his mother is gone too.

You pick him up and begin to bounce him softly, you avoid sobbing in front of him and instead assure him just as you do with Rhaenyra and Robb. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay, I got you. I got you.”

The baby begins to calm down and his green eyes meet your gaze with curiosity. You grin and nod.

“Yeah, you’re okay,” you continue to coo at him. “We’re going home with Jon, and your new siblings.”

Everything passed like a blur after this moment. All that stuck with you vividly was Drogon taking Daenerys body with him to who knows where. Out of grief of his own?

You don’t know, he just took her and you watched with tears streaming down your cheeks. You watched until you couldn’t see him anymore and then left back home. Back to Jon and the twins.

And there he was waiting for you as if waiting for the result of your departure for revenge. He was the first person you saw when your feet hit the ground, and he didn’t fail to meet you halfway with a curious gaze targeted at the small bundle safely strapped to your chest.

Albeit before he could ask anything, at the mere sight of him you break. “I couldn’t save her. I was too late, she’s gone…Jon…I couldn’t…”

Jon shakes his head and grabs the back of your head to lean it against his and assure you. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“But I didn’t do it,” you ramble. “You have to believe me, I didn’t kill her, she was…she was dying when I got there and I couldn’t…I was too late—”

“I know,” he whispers. “I believe you.” He pulls back now and glances down at Daeron in deep sleep after the flight here. “Who’s this?”

You glance down at Daeron and tug on a shaky smile. “Jon,” you whisper and then meet Jon’s gaze completely enamored. “Meet our son…Daeron.”

——

*NOW. KING’S LANDING*

“Let’s say grace,” Jon directs at the kids gathered around the table before you join hands.

You take Rhaenyra’s hand and offer her a gentle smile before she ducks her head and listens to the words her father says, whilst you look around the table at each one of your kids; noticing that Edria and Oraena don’t want to hold hands because of some petty argument they had again. Ryuu holds Aemon’s hand, and Robb doesn’t hold anyone’s hand, the chair at his left side is empty.

You had noticed that Daeron was missing for dinner before but you just thought he was running late. Ever since he bonded with Helios all he’s wanted to do is be with him, so you thought maybe he lost track of time when he was with his dragon. However, he still has yet to join dinner and he never does without an excuse.

Which is why when everyone is seated and begins eating you address the group of kids. “Where’s Daeron? Has anyone seen him?” You glance at every single one of your children, the youngest girls shrug and Ryuu looks just as curious as you are.

“Jon,” you direct at him with a puzzled gaze. “Have you seen him?”

With his mouth full of food Jon shakes his head, so you glance at the twins and notice that they both avert their gaze. Perhaps if you had followed the advice of court and had servants raise them then you wouldn't know how to read them, but you did raise them so you know that when they both avoid eye contact and pretend to be busy that something is wrong. So that clueless curiosity fades and eagerness to know takes its place.

“Rhaenyra,” you press and pick up a piece of food from your plate. “Where’s Daeron? He is your betrothed, you must know.” You drift your gaze to her and shoot her a pointed glare.

Rhaenyra meets your gaze and then steals a glance at Jon before she sighs and looks at her food with a frown and shrugs. “I don’t know.”

You exhale slowly and snap your gaze to Robb. “Robb,” you deadpan and don’t ask anything since he knows what you want to know.

But all he does is shrug and get back to eating without a care.

“Oraena,” Jon pulls her in the conversation knowing she was easy to crack when he asked. “Where’s Daeron?”

“I don’t know daddy,” the girl answers, causing you to pull your pointed glare from Robb to look at her—“Edria, Ryuu and I had lessons today. Which by the way, Edria copied off my work!”

“Tattletale!” Edria snaps and jerks her body to the side, causing Oraena to bend down and grab at something beneath the table.

“Ow! That hurt! Mother!”

You sigh and look at Edria, the girl who is quite literally a female version of Jon. “Edria, my sweetling please. Leave your sister alone. Now go sit in the empty seat next to Aemon.”

“But,“ she argues. “Mother.”

You narrow your gaze on her and she fails to continue arguing and moves with her all things. So now you continue, and since Ryuu wouldn’t know of Daeron’s whereabouts, you turn to Aemon, the youngest child and the who should’ve been your first option.

“Aemon,” you talk softly, gaining his attention from his plate. “Do you know where your brother is? Will you tell me and your father please.” You offer him a pleading smile.

Aemon stares at Jon and you for a moment with his eyes wide before he nervously glances at Robb and swallows thickly.

You should’ve known Robb had something to do with this, he walked into the hall quiet and with his head low. He was too suspicious from the start but you just didn’t clock it.

“Do you know?” You press Aemon.

And just as you wanted, Aemon meets your gaze and begins to sign with his hands the answer. “Robb and Daeron got into an argument again,” he signs dramatically. “Robb said that Daeron was a bastard and that his mother was just…” He pauses and glances between Jon and you. “Can I swear?”

You glance at Jon to press him and check if it’s okay speechlessly, and considering the moment, he lets Aemon swear.

“Robb called his mother a whore and a usurper and a Kinslayer! He said that no one loved him and that…” he pauses and blinks repeatedly as he frowns. “He said that Daenerys killed Rhaenar…is that true?”

Your eyes widen whilst a shocked breath catches in your throat.

The truth is something you haven’t shielded away when it comes to your children, nothing good comes out of hiding stuff from them, but this? What Daenerys did to Rhaenar?

That’s been purposely kept out of the mouths of the people from King's Landing, no one in your proximity could say a thing about that to you nor the kids. You were going to tell them one day, when you were ready. You haven’t even told Rhaenyra, your heir so she wouldn’t have to be burdened with a secret she had to keep from her twin and the rest of her siblings.

You didn’t want Daeron to be treated differently because of his mothers sins. But now Robb knows somehow. Now they all know.

“Who told you, Robb?” Jon interrogates Robb since you’re too taken back. “Tell me now.”

Said boy scoffs. “It’s not hard to know,” he rebuttals. “Ask anyone and they’ll say it.”

“But that wasn’t your truth to tell!” You exclaim with angry tears clouding your eyes.

The kids all get startled and stiffen, Robb most of all.

“Daeron had no fault in any of it, I don’t care how mad you are about Helios, that is not something you should have told him. You come to me, or your father. Do you have any idea how that made him feel?” You press angirly.

Robb averts his gaze and clenches his mouth. He stays quiet and doesn’t move.

“Robb,” you call out loudly. “I’m talking to you.”

“No,” Robb grumbles.

You shake your head. “No, you don’t. Now tell me who told you?”

Robb exhales and mutters, “a woman. From the street of silk.”

You blink slowly and nod softly in comprehension.

So it’s that easy huh?

You exhale and duck your head to try and calm down. Jon sees your struggle and reaches over to take your hand in his. When you feel his comforting touch you share a sad look before you face the kids who all silently watched.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. I’m sorry for keeping that from all of you, I just…” you pause and feel your throat close up as your agony still hurts as much as the day you found out about Rhaenar’s death. “I’ll—”

“It’s okay,” Jon cuts you off softly as he guesses your new intentions. “I’ll talk to them.”

You meet his gaze and nod. “Thank you,” you whisper. “Now Robb do you know where Daeron went?”

Robb watches your cloudy eyes and loses his annoyance and expresses guilt in those dark eyes. “No,” he says. “He mounted Helios and left.”

You let go of Jon's hand and push yourself off your seat. “Okay,” you sigh. “I think I know…I’m going to talk to him, finish eating, all of you.”

Without anything else to add you give Jon a small kiss before you begin to walk out of the room with knights trailing behind you. Albeit before you can walk out of the doors, Robb catches up to you, making you stop in your tracks.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately shares. “Forgive me mother. I did not mean to upset you.”

You grab his arm and caress it gently. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just hope now you find it in your heart to forgive Daeron. He’s your brother, he didn't bond with the dragon to spite you, Robb. I talked to you already about that, so please reflect on it. We…” you pause and glance at your family eating around the table and sigh shakily.

“We’re not eternal Robb,” you share with him reflecting on your own grieving past. “Life is a fleeting moment, it’s too short to hold grudges over one’s siblings.”

Robb looks at you with disbelief, expecting to get grounded and in deeper trouble, but you just offer him a gentle smile before you wrap him in an embrace. You hug him tightly as if you were scared he’d disappear, because you are.

Everyday the fear that one of the kids would get stolen from you lurks in the back of your head. Life left you too traumatized by loss to not fear death. That’s why you hug Robb with all your might, it catches him by complete surprise but he does hug you back. When you pull away you offer Robb one last smile before you head to Eraxis already waiting for you outside the castle gates.

Robb said Daeron flew away on Helios, so there’s only one place he could’ve gone that wasn’t within these castle walls. The home where he was with his mother for the first and last time.

You’ve only been there once after Daenerys passed, you missed her, you were stressed from ruling over Seven Kingdoms, taking care of kids, so you went to the last place you were with her and sat under a lemon tree to watch the sand blow in the distance.

It helped, you did feel better afterwards.

What about this time around though?

When you arrive at the isolated house Helios greets Eraxis, his mother with a soft growl.

“<You’ve grown,>” you tell the orange dragon with a faint smile. “<I’m glad to see you here.>” Since he isn’t a hatchling anymore you avoid petting him and instead head inside.

Hopefully, Daeron is in the room with the red door, you’d search the entire house for him, but with this stupid leg hurting let’s hope he’s in the room you’re heading to first.

And once you reach the chambers with the red door, you notice it’s partially open so you slowly push it open wider and step inside cautiously. “Daeron?” You call out and see that most of the furniture that was here before had been taken, and the once tighty room is left scrambled.

“Father said this where you found me,” Daeron makes himself known from deeper inside the room. “Or should I say Prince Jon.”

You follow his voice, and quickly come to find him standing over an empty cradle. When he sees you approaching he lifts his head and meets your gaze with cloudy eyes.

You don’t know what to tell him, “I’m sorry”, or just share the truth, so you just stop under the archway and watch him with a pitiful look.

“Daeron,” you mutter and clasps your hands in front of you. “Jon is still your father. Nothing is going to change that.”

Daeron averts his gaze and sniffles. “Why—” he soon cuts himself off and drops his head, letting brown strands of hair fall over his face.

“Oh,” you sigh softly and broken heartedly. “My sweet boy. I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I was going to tell you, just…not yet.” You break away from where you are and walk to his side, you try to grab his arm but he moves away and slowly faces you with tears rolling down his defined cheeks.

“How can you be that way with me?” He asks and his face twists deeper with sorrow. “My mother…she killed your son. She…took him away, she ripped away any hopes for peace. So why?” His voice shakes. “Why me?”

You hold his gaze and swallow thickly, you want to cry just at the sight of his tears, but you hold back and instead stroke the cradle. “Well,” you begin to tell him. “I wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t nice, you know?”

Daeron scoffs. “I can’t believe it,” he rebuttals, making you smile at him.

You nod. “It’s true. I lost myself in my revenge. I let my vengeance cloud my judgment, something I was warned about. I would have let the world burn, everything and everyone in it to find a form of justice for what happened…I,” you pause and exhale deeply whilst you lean against the cradle as you find your words hard to say. “I wanted to kill an innocent baby. A son for a son. I came here the moment I heard your mother gave birth.” You pause and glance at Daeron, catching his green eyes are still intently on you.

“But what?” He asks. “Why didn’t you do it?”

You watch the cradle and remember that day vividly. You remember lifting the dagger, but not being able to do it. Every bit of that day has stuck with you for fifteen years.

“I was close,” you admit, “but then it hit me. That baby I saw in that cradle, that innocent baby boy….you,” you whisper and meet his gaze. “I knew you far before I even met you.”

Daeron’s eyebrows furrow in confusion to your words.

“You see,” you continue and stand up straight to grab his hand. “For months I had this same dream. Two cradles in the throne room. I never could find a meaning to it, I painted the dream, talked about it, but every single time I came out clueless….that is until I saw you.” You offer him a smile and add on. “I saw the sigil on your cradle, I met your green eyes and I knew you were my fate. I was never meant to kill you, I was meant to be someone who loves you. Unconditionally. That’s why it’s you, because you were always meant to be mine. My child.”

You cup Daeron’s cheek and gently caress it with your thumb. Daeron offers you a gentle smile but it quickly flickers away and that same sorrow is still there.

“All because of a dream?” He says softly.

You sigh and respond. “And because I promised your mother. Because no matter what happened between her and me, I still loved her deeply. And she loved you, with all her heart. Who would I be if I left you? Who would I be if I hated an innocent boy? I did it because I wanted to. Because I love you and she loved you.”

Tears continue to slip out of his eyes, but he manages a small smile that melts your heart.

“Nothing is your fault,” you assure him and cradle his face. “None of it. Robb was just mad, and people will just talk. I’m sorry it took me a long time to tell you.”

Daeron shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he comforts your concern. “I understand.”

You grin. “Thank you. You are just as sweet as she was. You know?”

“Really?” He probes.

You nod. “Yes….now,” you sigh. “I didn’t know your mother long, but…your father, your real father did, Daario Nahris. He loved your mother, he knew her longer than I did. I’m sure he has stories to tell.”

“He left me,” he deadpans. “Why would I want to talk to him? I’m fine, really.”

You don’t fight him and instead nod in comprehension. “Okay, but still, your father nor I will be hurt if you want to know Daario okay? Just ask your uncle Bran where he is if you’re ever curious.”

Daeron nods in agreement, letting you drop the subject and pull away with an excited grin.

“Now! My boy, you have a dragon,” you say eagerly. “Why don’t we see what kind of a flier you are.”

Daeron smirks. “Oh, you’re on, mother. All the way home?” He suggests.

You nod smugly. “All the way home,” you agree.

——

*A FEW DAYS LATER*

“Ease your grip,” you advice Oraena as you tap her hand with your wooden sword. “And go.”

You swing your sparring weapon, but just as it clashes with hers the weapon falls from her hands, letting you then point the tip to her throat.

Ryuu snickers at his sister's failure, but Jon quickly shuts him up, knowing how Oraena reacts.

“Ugh,” she groans. “I don’t like sparring, mother. It’s too hard!”

You lower your hand and step back. “Okay,” you say. “That’s okay, but I would like you to learn some basic self defense.”

Oraena swipes her wooden sword from the ground and scoffs. “I have a dragon. He can protect me.”

“Expect your dragon can’t be everywhere,” Jon interjects and begins to walk to your side. “He can get hurt, leaving you vulnerable. When he gets bigger he won’t be able to be inside, leaving you vulnerable. Self defense is for your own good, O.”

Oraena sighs deeply and nods slowly. “Fine,” she grumbles, “but I’ll only continue learning if I get to have Long Claw.”

“No,” Ryuu cuts in and barges forward. “I get to have it.”

You and Jon share an amused look before he rebuttals looking surprised. “Excuse me but who said I was giving it away? And O, you said you don’t want to be a fighter.”

Oraena smirks and shrugs. “Well if I have it maybe I will learn.”

“It goes to me,” Ryuu insists. “Father said.”

You roll your eyes lightheartedly and quip. “Well your father is not dead yet, nor is he giving his sword away at the very moment so neither of you are getting it. Come on now,” you pat both of their backs. “Let’s continue. Ryuu you against me.”

However, just as you get ready, Robb joins the training yard without any training weapons. He looks at Jon and you and sighs with this specific look painted on his face, a look that his father would do a lot before when you were at war. Somethings wrong.

“Mother, father,” Robb interjects after he clears his throat. “May I talk to the both of you? In private.”

You untense from your stance and share a worried look with Jon before you look at the master-at-arms. “May you continue with their training.”

The master-at-arms nods and steps forward as you step out. As you put your stuff back on the racks Robb and Jon wait for you to catch up by the stairs.

“Is everything all right?” You ask Robb after not having the patience to wait to get inside.

Said boy briefly meets your gaze and nods stiffly. “Yes, yes it is. I just need to let you know something, that’s all.”

Did he get someone pregnant?

You don’t ask that, however, you don’t want to get him upset so you wait until you’re inside a parlor room to press him. “What is it?”

Jon helps you sit down as you both keep your eyes on your eldest son.

“Uh,” Robb begins to say and begins to pace. “It’s nothing bad I swear…I’ve just…lately I think I’ve grown restless.”

Jon hums in comprehension and moves around you to stand behind you.

“I’ve been so hell bent on bonding with a dragon,” Robb continues and drops his head. “I made it my life, but now that this happened I don’t know what to do with my life. I’m stuck. And I either can stay here, watch my life pass before my eyes, grow angrier, or be a bigger disappointment, or I can carve my own path, learn, fail.”

You shake your head. “You’re not a disappointment Robb. You’re just growing,” you assure him.

Robb meets your gaze and offers you a soft smile before he exhales and turns serious again. “Regardless…I,” he pauses and looks at you with pity. “I’m going beyond the wall…with uncle Tormund.”

You gasp in surprise and stiffen.

“I’ve sent ravens and he said he’ll gladly take me. He wants to take me on an adventure to go explore the White waste, fight creatures that lurk in the shadows,” he smiles. “Maybe see an Ice Dragon.” He chuckles.

“But,” you mutter shakily as you try to bring up any excuse so he won’t leave. “You hate the snow.”

Robb sighs and shrugs. “I’ll learn to live with it. Mother, I can't be by your side forever. Rhaenyra will be Queen, Daeron will sit by her side and be Prince consort. Ryuu will be a knight soon enough, the girls will be wed, and Aemon will be too when they’re of age. I want this, I mean father has gone beyond the wall, all I hear are great stories about you, father. I want to make my own too, just like you.” Robb reaches you and crouches down to take your hands in his.

“Mummy,” he says sweetly. “I’ll be okay,” he tries to comfort your fear. “I’ll come back. In a few years.”

“A few years?” You gasp. “Robb.”

“Y/N,” Jon interjects and walks around you again to be in front of you. “My love, Robb is right. He can’t be by our side forever. He needs to go make his own experiences, as we have. Besides he won’t be alone, Tormund will be with him.”

“Oh and Jon,” Robb adds, referring to Sam’s son. “He’ll go too.”

“See,” Jon insists. “He will be fine.”

You look into Jon’s eyes and find your comfort, but your heart still hurts knowing Robb is leaving.

“Besides,” Robb says with a smirk. “I like to think I’m a great fighter, thanks to you and father.”

You laugh softly and lean over to cradle his face. “Oh my boy. It aches knowing you want to leave…but you’re right…just let us take you to Tormund then? Just so I can be assured.”

Robb chuckles and nods. “All right. That’s fine.” He proceeds to press a kiss on your cheek before he lets you go and stands to his given height. “Thank you for understanding.” He offers you a soft smile and begins to walk back. “I’m going to go pack!” He spins around and strides out of the room.

Once you don’t hear his footsteps out in the hall you turn to Jon with a long frown. “It’s happening,” you mutter. “They’re starting to leave.”

Jon chuckles softly, causing you to scoff and shoot him a pointed glare. “I’m being serious.” You stand up and walk to the balcony.

“You’re exaggerating,” Jon interjects. “He won’t be gone long. You’re lucky he doesn’t have to join the Night’s Watch.” Jon’s footsteps approach you, and once he’s near he grabs your arms and turns you to face him. “I know it hurts, but…think of it this way…they’re just growing, they’re living their lives. The way they want. We didn’t get that.”

You sigh deeply. “I suppose you’re right, but can’t they stay with us forever? I mean we can go to that beautiful cave with that impressive waterfall and be a nice cave family. Just us.”

Jon chuckles and cups your cheeks. “My love, they’ll be fine. Besides, they're not all leaving yet.” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for an embrace you melt into. “We still have plenty of time with our children…and once they do leave and start living their own experiences we can retire, go to the cave, dorne, wherever you want and look back at how great of a mother you have been.”

You pull back and grin at him. “You’re a great father too, you know that. You deserve some credit.” You grab the sides of his neck and assure him. “You’ve done good. You’ve always thought you’ve been nothing, but Jon, you are everything good in this world, you are everything to our kids. They love you, they admire you.”

Jon’s smile turns timid and he caresses your cheek before he whispers. “And nothing would have been possible without you. I was living in the dark until I met you. You made me a father and gave me a big family, a family that I always wanted. So it’s not just me. It’s you too. Us.”

You grin and press your forehead against his. “We’re doing good.”

Jon nods. “Yes we are….thank you for that by the way.”

You give him a gentle kiss, and when he pulls back he murmurs, “I love you from this day until my last day.”

You steal another kiss from him before you murmur back against his lips. “I love you too. From this day until my last day.” You pull back and meet his gaze. “Will you take me back to that cave? When we drop Robb off?”

Jon nods. “I will. I’ll take you wherever you want. Always.”

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“There they are my favorite flock of crows!” Tormund exclaims as all the kids climb off the dragons.

“Uncle Tormund!” Edria yells back and shoves past you to reach the tall and old man. “Look!”

Once she reaches him she tilts her head and shows off the scar on her face, since the last time you saw him she didn’t have a story to tell.

Tormund grins before he bursts out laughing and high fives her for gaining such a scar. “Great job little crow. How did you leave the other guy?”

“She didn’t even leave a scratch,” Ryuu cuts in so Edria wouldn’t dare lie. “She got beat.”

“Ryuu,” Edria hisses. “I did hit him!”

“Uncle Tormund,” Ryuu greets Tormund before they embrace. Oraena sees the interaction and rushes over to throw her arms around him, Aemon follows and Tormund doesn’t fail to wrap his arms around all three of them with a grin before he lifts them off the ground.

“The south at least is good for something, you’ve all grown,” Tormund comments and puts them down on the ground to pull back to greet the other three eldest before approaching Jon. “Little crow, how I’ve missed you my friend.” Tormund pats Jon’s back and squeezes him tightly. “Everytime I hear from you the more I’m surprised that you’re alive. You look old now.”

Jon chuckles. “Not as old as you.”

Tormund snorts and slaps Jon’s back harder. “It’s good to see you, Snow.”

“You too, my friend.” Jon pulls back and lets Tormund approach you and wrap you in a much softer embrace. “Dragon slayer, you’re not hiding another crow are you?”

You shake your head. “No,” you roll out. “No. We’re done now.”

“I never knew Jon had it in him,” Tormund says bluntly before he pulls away and studies you. “How is it going?”

You sigh deeply. “It’s not easy. But I can’t complain, things are somewhat peaceful now.”

“No one wants to face the wrath of, what is it five dragons now?”

You nod. “Daeron bonded with one not so long ago.” You show off proudly. “Not counting the three young dragons, we are five dragons strong now.”

“Exactly,” Tormund says. “No one would dare mess with that. You keep giving them hell.”

You offer him a smile and nod before the sadness returns. “You’ll take good care of him, right?”

Tormund glances back at Robb and nods to assure you. “Of course I will, don’t you worry, y/n,” he says and caresses your arm. “I care for him like he's my own. He’s in great hands. Don’t cry, when I return him to you he’ll be a man grown.”

Your breath shakes, but you resist from crying and nod, catching Jon approach you to comfort you too.

“If you’re saying this then I suppose you’re not staying then?” Tormund asks Jon and you.

Jon shakes his head. “No, we can’t. We just wanted to see him off.”

Tormund hums and nods. “Well you have nothing to worry about now. He’s got a lot to learn but he’s strong like the two of you.”

You offer him a thankful smile before you leave their side and approach the children. The three youngest are playing in the snow, but the oldest are huddled around Robb as they prepare to say their farewells.

“Here,” Rhaenyra tells her twin brother as she unbuckles her sheath from her waist. “I want you to have this. You’ll have more use for it with you then I do.” She then hands Robb the Valyrian sword that once had belonged to Ser Jaime.

Robb is hesitant to take it, considering Rhaenyra valued the sword so much, but he then grabs it without argument and hugs her tightly. “<I’ll miss you.> He whispers to her in high Valyrian. “<Thank you.>”

Rhaenyra’s chest falls and her grip around her twin brother tightens. “<And I’ll miss you. Write to me when you can. I’ll be expecting them.>”

Robb pulls back and nods. They linger there in front of each other for a moment longer before Rhaenyra steps away and lets Daeron step forward. And this time with this interaction you narrow your gaze and pay closer attention.

“I…” Daeron stops and exhales. “I'm sorry. You know I meant no ill will, Robb. I never—”

“Don’t,” Robb cuts him off and grabs Daeron’s shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize. I was being stupid.”

Daeron shakes his head softly in confusion. “You’re not upset?”

Robb shakes his head. “No,” he assures his brother. “Life is a fleeting moment, it’s too short to hold grudges over one’s siblings.”

You scoff softly in disbelief, and catch Robb’s cloudy gaze before he looks at his brother again. “Forgive me, brother, I’ve been an asshole…there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you know that?”

Daeron lets out a soft huff before they embrace each other. “Have fun, write If you meet anyone, or if you encounter an ice dragon.” He chuckles softly and lingers in his brother's embrace before they pull away.

This time you approach Robb, you don’t say anything beforehand you just throw your arms around him and pull him close to you, not wanting to let go ever.

“I love you,” you whisper to him. “Be careful, keep warm and don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger. You understand me?”

“Yes, mama,” Robb assures you. “I understand….I love you too. I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll keep in touch as well.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod, making him laugh softly.

“Don’t cry,” he warns you. “I’ll be fine.” He tries to pull back but you refuse to let go.

“Just a bit longer,” you whisper. “Let me just hold you.”

Robb doesn’t argue, he lets you embrace him, he doesn’t let go of you either, or stands stiffly in your embrace, he keeps you close. However, now as you do linger there, someone else throws their arms around the both of you, when you check you see Oraena.

Edria doesn’t wait to do the same, causing Ryuu to join in, and then Daeron and Rhaenyra take advantage of this precious moment and become a part of the group hug.

“You're all squishing me,” Robb complains. “I can’t breathe!”

“Don’t complain,” Edria scolds him. “Just let us love you.”

You laugh softly and close your eyes to take in this moment. You want to say something, something sweet, but then before you can more weight is added to the huddle and manages to knock you all down to the snow covered ground.

Rather than becoming upset, or complaining when you see that it was Aemon and Jon who dropped you, you all instead begin to laugh and remain huddled together on the snow. Except tears also break out of your eyes now as well.

This is all you’ve ever wanted, a home, these simple moments. Rhaenar is missing, but you’re happy, thankful that you have them all, a home where you finally found peace in. You’re content with your life now.

This is all you’ve ever wanted and you finally have it.

——

*SEVERAL YEARS LATER*

Where there was once darkness, now there’s a soft and warm light that bathes your body. Walls that you recognize surround you, and a single door at the end of the hall shines. The door to your mothers chambers.

Without an ounce of hesitation you walk to it, feeling no ounce of fear whatsoever.

You knock once before you open the door, and more light floods out, so you shield your eyes.

“Visenya!”

Rhaenys?

So many years have passed but you’ve never forgotten the sound of your sister's voice.

“Rhaenys?” You whisper, and lower your hand from your face, catching her there inside your mothers chambers. “Rhaenys.” You greet her with a smile as you see her little face.

“Visenya.”

You freeze and snap your eyes up, that’s when you see her too. She’s beautiful and looks the same as when you saw her last, decades ago.

“Mama,” you whimper before you break away from your spot and run to her to embrace her. “Mama.” You cry. “I missed you….so much.”

She smells like home, she smells like flowers and everything sweet in this world. She’s so warm too. You feel safe with her.

“And I you,” she says in her sweet voice as she holds you tightly against her. “Now we have all the time in the world to catch up, my little sunspot….welcome back home.”

.

.

.

.

A/N- ITS BEEN HELL OF A RIDE! Thank you to all of you who took time out of their lives to read this story, I love you so so much. I hope you liked this series and the ending. I had fun writing this series. Thank you again ❤️

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

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #last chapter #chapter 18 #got #got fanfiction #Jon snow #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow fic #jon snow x targaryen!reader #jon snow x reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x y/n #daenerys targaryen #tormund