Playing with Snow
One Shot
Pairing: Jon Snow x Reader
Summary: You’re driving home for the holidays with your best friend. The only problem? You’re madly in love with him.
Warnings: Play-fighting turned frustration. A spontaneous kiss. Mostly fluff, really.
Words: 2,477
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35456362
AN: Hi, lovelies! I was inspired by the holiday season to write some holiday preferences for our lovely GoT boys. I've never written for Jon before but this story just came to me. It was originally going to be a drabble but it sort of took on a life of its own, so I guess it is a full-length one-shot now. Let me know what you guys think or if you think I should write for Jon again! I hope you guys like it. Thank you for reading!
You waved goodbye to your roommates, watching them disappear in a flurry of snow as you made your way to the center of the quad. Your cheeks were tingling from the cold, flakes of snow catching in your lashes and hair. You loved the snow. You loved the way it decorated your clothes before melting off and disappearing without a trace, you loved the way it crunched under your feet as you walked, and the way it covered the treetops like frosting on a cake. You busied yourself kicking the white powder, watching it shimmer in the last remaining winter light. You were so entranced with it that you didn’t notice as one of your kicks of snow flew up… hitting your best friend in the face.
“Hello to you, too, Y/N,” Jon’s deep voice sang, and he flashed you a small smile as he brushed snow out of his dark curls. You felt your face flush, your lips parting to say something, anything, but all you could manage was a pathetic stutter as you ran up to Jon, fingers brushing the snow out of his beard.
“Jon! I am so… sorry… I didn’t see you…” He jerked away, laughing.
“Your fingers are freezing!” He said. Just as you felt yourself growing disappointed that he pulled away from you, he took your hands into his own, shoving them into the pockets of his winter coat for good measure. He felt so warm, even after waiting for you in the quad for God knows how long. You peeked up at his face, but quickly looked away once you saw him already looking at you.
You’d been in love with your best friend Jon for as long as you could remember. You two had grown up together, been virtually inseparable. As children, you were each other’s constant companions. You remembered walking along the train tracks in your hometown and climbing trees together. Once you’d fallen and broken your leg, and Jon had jumped out after you so you wouldn’t feel alone. He was so thoughtful and fearless. You’d been each other’s closest confidants. You remembered crying in high school when Jon told you about his crush on Ygritte, and feeling like you would die when they started dating. Now you two were in college together, about to make the drive home together for the holidays, and all of a sudden you felt your familiarity with Jon slipping away. You could barely look into his warm, chocolate brown eyes, and when you two did speak you could only choke out a few words. You were surprised he was still planning to drive home with you, considering what an absent friend you had been lately.
You sighed as you looked over Jon’s shoulder, watching the snowfall and trying to ignore the feeling of his thumbs rubbing circles over your knuckles in his pockets. You felt his gaze on you for a moment before you watched him kneel down from the corner of your periphery, not thinking anything of it until you felt a shocking, freezing sensation falling over your head.
“Jon?!” You shrieked as you shook your hair out, snow flying in all directions. He grinned widely.
“Y/N,” he mocked. “Glad I could snap you out of that trance. If I’d have known that’s all it took…” He trailed off as he scooped up another handful of snow, packing it tightly before launching it at your chest. You stumbled back and he doubled over laughing. You rolled onto your hands and knees, facing away from him so he wouldn’t see you picking up more snow to throw at him. You spun around and launched the crystalline white ball as hard as you could before noticing Jon wasn’t standing there anymore, disappointed as your handiwork fell to the ground and dispersed. “I’m over here,” you heard your best friend call from the side, another handful of snow knocking the side of your head and slipping into the collar of your shirt. You squealed and tried to shake it out, bending over in a weird little dance as Jon laughed at you.
Even pretending to be exasperated by him, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. This felt just like old times. You two chased each other all the way to the car as the sun began to set, pelting each other with snow. Sometimes you hit him, though you suspected he was slowing down to give you a chance. His precision was far more deadly, and soon you were covered in powdery snow, acutely aware that once it melted you’d be soaking wet. In one last act of defiance, you ran at Jon full speed, pleased at the surprised gasp that escaped his mouth as you sent him tumbling back into the snow, with you following behind.
“Oof,” he huffed as you plopped onto his chest. His face was so close that his cold breath tickled your nose. You sat up and began grabbing fistfuls of snow, tossing them into his face as he laughed and tried to wriggle out from under you. “Y/N!” his raspy voice called, but you showed no signs of slowing. “Y/N!” He took your wrists into his hands, stopping you from grabbing any more snow as he sat up. “Truce?” he pleaded. His big, chocolate brown eyes stared into yours and suddenly your skin was on fire where he was holding you. You were acutely aware of the fact that you were sitting in his lap, his gorgeous face inches from yours again. You had the sudden urge to knot your fingers in his dark curls and pull him to you. Wait, what? You yanked your wrists out of his grasp rather harshly, not missing the shock on his face as you weakly hit his chest over and over and over. He watched, bewildered, until you pathetically gave up on hitting him and climbed off his lap, walking away.
“Y/N, what-” but you were gone. You didn’t want to explain your outburst to Jon. What would you even say? I’m mad at you because I’m in love with you and because you’ll never feel the same way about me? Or how about, I’m mad at you because you make me feel like my body is on fire and I’m worried if I’m alone in a car with you for hours I’ll do something stupid and destroy our friendship? No. You wouldn’t let that happen. You marched off down the street. You remembered the way to the train station. If you left now, you might be able to catch a late one. You heard Jon calling after you, but eventually he gave up and went to his car. Good, you thought, though you felt a pang of disappointment. What was wrong with you?
It took you another minute to finally hear the low rumble of an engine and the crunching of snow underneath tires. You glanced over to see Jon following you in the car. His boyish grin was gone, instead his jaw was set as he flicked his dark eyes over to you before looking back at the road.
“Get in the car, Y/N,” his low voice commanded. His authoritative tone gave you a flutter deep in your core. Damn it. He was only making your feelings worse. You stared straight ahead and ignored him. “Y/N,” his voice came out as a warning this time. It excited you. You kept walking. The crunching of snow being ground under tires grew louder and the headlights brightened. He had pulled up in front of you, effectively cutting you off from walking further. Before you could walk around his car, Jon climbed out of the driver’s side and made his way to you. You froze as you watched his large frame advancing towards you. Without a word, he ducked down and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you to the car and ignoring your protests.
“This is kidnapping,” you pouted as he reentered the driver’s seat and locked the doors.
“Really? Because twenty minutes ago you were planning to drive home with me.” He was upset. You understood; it was justified. He drove wordlessly for a while, and you stared out the window, watching the dark, winding roads blur by. You were sure he wouldn’t speak another word to you and the thought was kind of a relief. When you got back home to Winterfell, New York, Jon would never talk to you again. And maybe it was better that way. You were barely even friends as it were. You didn’t even know how to talk, act, even breathe around him anymore. Your feelings had gotten the better of you, and since you couldn’t be with him it was time you let him go and drifted apart. You let that sink in, the fact that you wouldn’t have a best friend anymore, and blinked back tears.
“Get in the front,” Jon’s deep, accented voice interrupted your thoughts. You caught sight of his face in the rearview mirror. His eyes were still stern but he looked concerned. You couldn’t let him melt your resolve like that. He would make everything okay again, and it would only prolong your pain. You turned away from his reflection. Only a few more hours, you thought. “Damn it, Y/N, say something!” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel as he said it, making you jump. He was begging now. “Y/N, please. Was it something I said? Did I make you uncomfortable? What did I do wrong?” The desperation in his voice flooded your heart with guilt. He thought this was his fault. How were you to explain to him that the only thing he was guilty of was being too perfect?
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you mumbled. He gave a breathy, relieved laugh that you were finally speaking to him. His voice became soft again. Like he was afraid of scaring you into shutting him out again.
“Come to the front, Y/N. Talk to me.” You shook your head, unsure if he was even looking at the mirror to see it.
“I can’t, Jon. It’s not your fault but… we can’t be friends. It’s better this way.” You didn’t know what else to say, so you stared at your hands.
“Is it, now?” His words were cold. Not like snow. Like steel. A sarcastic laugh dripped from his lips. “‘It’s not you, it’s me’, really, Y/N? You know what-” he turned the steering wheel abruptly, pulling over to the side of the road. The car stopped with a jolt, and in a second he had exited the driver’s side and climbed into the back with you. You shot a glance at the door behind you, but he leaned over you and gripped the handle, holding the door closed before you could even make a move for it. You were trapped between the door and his warm body. “No running. Tell me what your problem is right now, Y/N. You disappeared from my life. I went through a semester barely talking to you. I thought,” he huffed a pained laugh and you noticed a shimmer in his eyes as his voice wavered. “I thought you were busy with schoolwork or something. You’re always busy lately. Too busy for me,” he mumbled the last words and you inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of pine and amber and cyprus cologne burning your throat. You owed him an explanation. He deserved it.
“I wasn’t too busy,” you defended. “I kept myself busy. Because you were busy. You were with Ygritte and-”
“I broke up with Ygritte,” he said, his eyebrows drawn together. “In October. You don’t know that? You’re my best friend and you have no idea what’s going on in my life. I wasn’t too busy. And I wasn’t with her. Why are you really avoiding me?” You bit your lip.
“I’m sorry-”
“Y/N, I don’t want an apology. I want my best friend back. I’ve missed you. Please. I hoped this drive would… would fix whatever is broken between us. We could be how we used to be.”
“I don’t want to be how we used to be!” you cried desperately.
“Then what do you want?!” Jon raised his voice to match yours.
Your hands landed on his chest, twisting his shirt into your fists as you pulled him into you and finally, finally pressed his soft lips against yours. It only took him a second to react, dropping the door handle to wrap an arm around your waist, his other hand slipping behind your hair and holding the back of your neck. His kisses were slow and deliberate, and he punctuated each deep kiss with a series of small ones across each of your lips. He rubbed his thumb along your jaw languidly as he sucked softly on your lower lip. You whimpered into his mouth, and he used the arm wrapped around you to easily pull you onto his lap, both of his hands caressing your face now as he tilted his head up and captured your lips once more.
It felt so right. Like everything had fallen into place. You and Jon, together like this… it just made sense. You slid your hands up from his chest and into his curls, finally knotting them into your fingers like you’d wanted to. You tugged them back, tilting his head back and peppering his lips and jaw with kisses as he exhaled slowly. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his found their way around your waist, pulling you close until your forehead was resting on his own, your noses brushing each other, your chests rising and falling in unison. You kissed him again. And again. And once more. He chuckled against your lips and stared at you with a twinkle in his eye.
“Was that all?” he asked. You nodded meekly. “Y’know… if you hadn’t been so intent on avoiding me, I was planning on initiating that myself.”
“You were?”
“Of course. I love you, Y/N. I always have. I want to go back to Winterfell as your boyfriend. If you’ll have me.”
“I’ll have you,” you whispered. His cheeky grin returned.
“Yeah, you’ve already had me. Is that why you drenched me in snow? You wanted me to take my clothes off?”
“Shut up before I drag you back out there for a rematch.”
“I wouldn’t mind a rematch-”
“That’s not what I meant! I meant the snowball fight. You perv.”
“I’d love to see you try, angel. I’ll wipe the floor with you.”
You drove back to Winterfell belting your favorite songs together with Jon’s hand on your thigh.
“Jon?” you spoke as you finally pulled in to the Starks’ driveway.
“Yes, doll?”
“I love you, too.”
