I also wanted to write you John/Dean and The Shield fic but, for now, have the pairing which brought us together.♥ Also, yes, I am cheating and writing fic even though I've not signed up (yet).
make something happen | asoiaf, stannis/jon, r with references to a tonne of your kinks that I'm too lazy to list - also, this way it's a surprise, & who doesn't like surprises?
They argue. It's what they do. Stannis states his demands and Jon refuses to meet them. But that's it. That's all it is. Negotiation after negotiation with barely a raised voice or a fist slammed on the table.
Jon knows what it is to be impetuous and angry, full of frustrated rage and a sense of having been wronged, and he lets that show sometimes. Stannis' anger, if he feels it, shows only in his eyes and the way his speech becomes that slightest bit more formal, words clipped down to the most regimented versions of themselves. And sometimes, sometimes Jon just wants to see him break. He wants to push Stannis that bit too far, to see him crack, see the man inside, the way all that want is coiled up tight inside him, waiting for the dam to break. He wants to just get Stannis to move.
He wants Stannis to rise from his chair, rise to his full and imposing height, slam a hand, palm down, on the table, and make some greater sign of his distaste for Jon's proposal than mere spoken dissent.
He wants Stannis to break and belittle him, say all the things Jon knows he thinks about how low Lord Snow's position truly is. He wants Stannis to use the words he normally states as fact, 'bastard' and 'boy', as insults instead; wants to hear something more than mere distaste behind them.
He wants Stannis to crowd him up against the wall of his solar, pin him against it with just a hand to Jon's neck, and make him concede to his terms. He wants the hand to tighten, just enough that he feels breathless and helpless, before Stannis releases him. His breath gets shorter just thinking of it: Stannis' hands lingering, callus-rough and too-real feeling, as he pulls away.
He wants, more than anything, to be something more than another obstacle, another pawn to be manoeuvred for the good of Stannis' kingly campaign. But he'd take Stannis' hands on him, just the same, if he could only compel him to passion or anger, make him feel anything at all beyond the bounds of cold pragmatism. He wants to feel the air choked from him with the rush of surprise and triumph, if only he could induce Stannis to move.
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make something happen | asoiaf, stannis/jon, r
with references to a tonne of your kinks that I'm too lazy to list - also, this way it's a surprise, & who doesn't like surprises?
They argue. It's what they do. Stannis states his demands and Jon refuses to meet them. But that's it. That's all it is. Negotiation after negotiation with barely a raised voice or a fist slammed on the table.
Jon knows what it is to be impetuous and angry, full of frustrated rage and a sense of having been wronged, and he lets that show sometimes. Stannis' anger, if he feels it, shows only in his eyes and the way his speech becomes that slightest bit more formal, words clipped down to the most regimented versions of themselves. And sometimes, sometimes Jon just wants to see him break. He wants to push Stannis that bit too far, to see him crack, see the man inside, the way all that want is coiled up tight inside him, waiting for the dam to break. He wants to just get Stannis to move.
He wants Stannis to rise from his chair, rise to his full and imposing height, slam a hand, palm down, on the table, and make some greater sign of his distaste for Jon's proposal than mere spoken dissent.
He wants Stannis to break and belittle him, say all the things Jon knows he thinks about how low Lord Snow's position truly is. He wants Stannis to use the words he normally states as fact, 'bastard' and 'boy', as insults instead; wants to hear something more than mere distaste behind them.
He wants Stannis to crowd him up against the wall of his solar, pin him against it with just a hand to Jon's neck, and make him concede to his terms. He wants the hand to tighten, just enough that he feels breathless and helpless, before Stannis releases him. His breath gets shorter just thinking of it: Stannis' hands lingering, callus-rough and too-real feeling, as he pulls away.
He wants, more than anything, to be something more than another obstacle, another pawn to be manoeuvred for the good of Stannis' kingly campaign. But he'd take Stannis' hands on him, just the same, if he could only compel him to passion or anger, make him feel anything at all beyond the bounds of cold pragmatism. He wants to feel the air choked from him with the rush of surprise and triumph, if only he could induce Stannis to move.