Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Two (Completed)

Jon Snow x Reader - You Oughta Know

A/N- This imagine is based on the song You Oughta Know by Alanis Morissette. It's one of those songs that I've rediscovered recently and which I have been unable to stop listening to. In all honesty, the song is far more angry and expressive than this imagine makes it seem. I hope you all enjoy it.

"Perhaps you should put some distance between the two of you." The comment was meant to be comforting, something positive from the mouth of a friend, but it had backfired magnificently, causing you to shoot a glare in Sansa's direction.

"And why should I be the one who has to make distance?" your voice was cut with venom, shooting through your lips before you could catch it, and your face softened slightly when you saw Sansa flinch away slightly. "I'm sorry," you added, much more gentle than before.

Sansa nodded, "I worded it wrong," she started again, "I just thought that perhaps if you were to be apart for a while you would be able to move on and begin to forget about what happened."

You shrugged slightly, "I don't want to forget what happened," you answered her softly, getting to your feet and pacing back and forth on the rug in the middle of the room. "It's not fair that I'm the one who has to watch him be happy with someone else," you pressed on, pausing to glance down at Sansa, "I doubt that he has even told her that we were together, the bloody philanderer."

"Y/N, the way Jon treated you was wrong, but he is still my brother," Sansa warned, though there was no conviction in her words.

"Half-brother," you reminded her softly, quirking and eyebrow when she sighed in frustration, "but you're right, I shouldn't make you sit here listening to me twittering on."

Sansa was still frowing to herself as she reached out and took your hand in hers, "I understand," she told you softly, before getting to her feet and making her way out of your chambers.

It was a miracle that you were still living in Winterfell, a miracle that you hadn't been sent away as soon as Jon had marched back in. In fact, you almost believed that he had forgotten that you were even their; he hadn't even looked your way since coming back from meeting with the Dragon Queen. Once upon a time you were to be married to the King in the North, sworn to him from the day that your father took the knee before him. For a while everything had seemed peaceful, quiet even, and you had considered yourself utterly in love. But all good things had to come to an end, and though he had promised himself to you he had decided to go against his word. 

You had been a state when he had informed you that you wouldn't be married, your furniture overturned, your china cups shattered, and your face red and tear-stained. But it had done nothing to keep him with you, less than nothing, in fact, it had probably done a smashing job of pushing him even further away. Your temper had always been short, even when it came to Jon, and the idea of keeping it in check when your heart was splitting in two seemed somewhat impossible.

Jon claimed that he thought you would not be fit to be queen, nor to bare children, and your tantrum had done little to change his mind. You were still uncertain what it was that had actually changed his mind, and it had driven you half mad to keep running the months through your mind in order to find the cause.

You had decided to wander the castle after Sansa had gone back to her rooms; the halls were almost always empty once the rest of the family had gone to bed, and you often found yourself in a new part of your home, lost but engrossed in just how large it was.

"What are you doing out of bed?" the voice had startled, causing you to let out a terrified squeek as you span to face Jon, his brows raised in question.

Your face suddenly fell when you saw him standing in the semi-dark hallway. "Nothing," you answered quickly, "not that it is any of your business." He rolled his eyes at you, letting out a small scoff. You both stood in silence for a moment, staring at one another, "what are you doing up?"

"I was eating when I heard footsteps, I thought I should investigate," he told you, and you nodded slightly.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed your dinner." He chuckled at that, causing you to frown slightly. "I will try to be civil with you Jon, but I am not just going to disappear now that you've started fucking the Targaryen girl."

He winced at your crude words, "I am not fucking anyone," he began to announce causing you to laugh.

"You oughta know that you are a terrible liar," you told him with a small smile, nodding slightly. "Does she know that you broke your vow to me?" He shook his head, "you should tell her, it will sound best coming from you."

He nodded slightly, "thank you for the advice," he muttered and you shot him a small dampened smile. 

"Enjoy your dinner, Your Grace," you uttered lightly, moving past him and back towards your bed chambers.

You wished you could hate him, your truly did. You wished that you could scream and cry for how he had treated you, for lying when he told you he loved you, for breaking his promise to treasure you. But in all honestly, you loved him too much to ever hate him.

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