Title: The Path of Least Resistance
Paring: Computer Programmer!Jon Snow X Reader
Warnings: hacking, anxiety, pretty messed up stuff dumbed down, angst and fluff.
Spoilers: none, this is an AU
Author's Note: I have only read books one and two in ASoIaF, and will be basing Jon from what I've read of him. Yeah, he might be OOC; I haven't seen the actual TV show so that's granted, okay? Please don't hate me or him too much (I really like him).
Also, I'd apologise for the 2,500 words but I will not.
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Jon Snow mightn't seem important in his job. He wore street clothes and drank dollar coffee and his shoes were scuffed and had a lot more used gum on their sole than a subway floor. But he was a man in charge of a small division of a handful of programmers - protecting the cyber network of the entire country from invasion. Of course, his pay-check wasn't as large as someone with his position and skill could be, and he was at work far too often to have a relationship, let alone commit to someone else's feelings that way.
Apart from the horny teenagers messing around, trying to hack into government tech, Jon Snow's team - which Samwell nicknamed the 'Night's Watch' after a semi-drunk D&D game - were the first and final line of defence toward the fearsome international hacker group. The group (or person, who knew their identity?) was named 'WyteWlkr', and haunted Jon's dreams with their abilities.
The 'WyteWlkr's had almost made India react with war to a false email sent by New Zealand, had found and sent horrific images to foreign government agencies, and personally stored the world's nuclear codes for "the right occasion".
It wasn't until his boss declared that the black-clad neck-bearded men were to receive a shared assistant to help with the atmosphere and 'human management' side of the business that Jon realised they were quite fine without another person, thank you very much.
But of course, his boss didn't care, and sent this assistant in anyways. She had (h/l), (h/c) hair that seemed to shine under any light, and a bright smile that would be too enthusiastic to Jon for any reason. Yeah, it wasn't ________'s fault that she was just too goddamn into her job - apparently the management and organisation of things was a passion for her - just like Jon was into his.
So he did the best thing he could do to a crazy enthusiastic secretary. He'd put up with her arriving to their office with coffee too good for him, and replacing all the bland yellow sticky notes with her favourite colours. He ignored the way his co-workers smiled at her, and the way she did to him. But Jon couldn't smile at her.
"So, a couple of your friends here told me you're the grumpy one," she approached him at the tearoom. It was a dinky little room with a mini fridge and a playboy poster from someone's father's antique magazines, and a dart board. "But I found that out for myself, Snow."
"I'm busy," he grits out, focusing his gaze on his cup of soup.
She nods. "Alright, grumpy."
There's a shout from the mainroom, and suddenly, Samwell's calling out Jon's name and there's a thud. The soup is tossed into the sink carelessly, and at once, he's off, out and racing to the computers. Tollett is on the ground, out for the count, and the rest of the Night's Watch are flabbergasted and silent. The screens all have the same face upon them; a pixelated man's face, the right side scarred and red, the other seemingly bleached whiter.
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