232 Book(s) Related to jon snow fanfiction

I thought I was the perfect wife and mother, until I heard my husband outside his office, laughing, calling me a "prison warden" and planning to use our daughter as cover while he ran off to Tuscany with his grad student.

Everything fell apart. Then my daughter, in front of everyone: "That's just our annoying nanny."

I tried to hold on to what was left of our family, but my daughter shoved me down the stairs. I lost the baby, and my husband just checked his watch while I bled out on the floor.

They locked me in and left for Italy.

Alone in the hospital, they told me I'd lost the baby and had "memory damage."

Now they're back, expecting the same obedient wife.

She's gone.

And I'm done loving them.

I used to be the nation's top lock-picking expert. I saved countless lives.

But I couldn't save my own daughter.

At the dock, two children were strapped to bombs.

The girl had less time—I should've saved her first.

But my husband Damien held a knife to his throat, forcing me to save the other one first.

His illegitimate son.

I compromised.

The moment I opened the lock, the kidnapper ripped off the girl's hood.

I never expected her to be Rosie.

My five-year-old daughter.

She looked at me.

Her lips moved, forming the word "Mommy."

Then the explosion tore through everything...

He proposed to me the day he woke up from coma.

I was so happy, and thought I would finally have my happily ever after.

I was wrong.

Three years later, I was slapped with divorce papers, and lost my baby.

My husand had chose my sister, and abandoned me.

And that was his worst mistake.

I thought that after twenty years with the Sterlings—even as an adopted child—I'd at least count as family. But the day they found their biological daughter Victoria, they announced they were throwing me out and planned to humiliate me at the family gathering. Based on what right?

Even more disgusting was how my almost-fiancé Blake immediately started fooling around with Victoria, eager to watch me get kicked to the curb!

When everyone was lining up to step on me, it was Alexander—the one I'm supposed to call "stepbrother"—who protected me. In his apartment, when he stood behind me gripping my hand as I chopped vegetables, his breath grazing my ear before he finally bent down to kiss me... my heartbeat went completely erratic.

My biggest regret? Trusting my husband with my mother's life.

The day the mudslide hit, I was on my knees. Begging him to send a helicopter.

He told me to wait. Twenty minutes. But when the helicopter came, it went for his adoptive sister Vivian instead.

I held my mother in the ruins. Her body was shutting down. I waited. Waited until she went cold in my arms.

When he finally showed up at the hospital, the first thing he said? Accused me of faking it. Said I just wanted attention.

In that moment, my heart died too.

Later, I found out Vivian wasn't even sick.

She said "I don't feel well"—that's all it took. And he left my mother and me to die.

Called me a lunatic. In front of everyone. All for her.

I was ready to leave. For good. Then someone shattered my mother's ashes.

On the day I got engaged to the heir of an elite old-money family, my own birth mother spread vicious lies about me in front of the entire crowd. She claimed I’d lived a wildly promiscuous life while studying abroad, and had even secretly given birth to a stillborn child with no known father.
Afterwards, she took my hand and sobbed out an apology, saying she’d only wanted to test whether my fiancé truly loved me enough to stand by me. I was foolish enough to believe her, and drank the calming tea she’d personally handed me.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, everything was destroyed. I lay in my bedroom, disheveled and half-dressed, and the man beside me was none other than my younger sister’s boyfriend.
In the end, my fiancé married my sister. And I was mercilessly disowned and cast out by my own family.
But twenty years later, every single one of them would come to regret what they’d done.

I remember that frost-covered train door like it was the last thing I ever saw. Because it was.
The escape spot I’d spent three years scraping together? My fiancée was sitting in it, wearing my parka. Her brother had my hiking boots on his feet. Her mother clutched the medical kit I’d carried six miles through ash-covered roads. And Caleb Frost—the ex she’d sworn was just “someone from the past”—stood in the seat that should have been mine, lifting my silver emergency flask in a toast.
While I froze out in the subzero ash storm, my lungs burning like they were filled with shards of broken glass, they turned their backs to me under the warm yellow light inside.
Then I woke up.
The calendar read May 3, 2041. Exactly one year before the Yellowstone chain eruption would turn the northern hemisphere into a frozen grave.
On the TV, experts were still downplaying the volcanic tremors, insisting there was no immediate risk to the public. My fiancée walked into the bedroom wearing one of my white shirts, carrying coffee in the blue mug she’d bought with my card. She reached for my forehead, asking if I’d had a bad dream.
None of them know I’ve already died once.
They’re still plotting how to make me pay for her brother’s failed investments, how to sneak texts to her old boyfriend, how to use me as their most obedient, most useful doormat until the world ends. I’ve sold the downtown office towers, mortgaged the lakefront house, bought the abandoned geothermal station no one wanted in the dead mountains, and signed a stack of engineering contracts they’ll never bother to read.
They still smile and thank me, tell me I’m the best fiancé in the world.
They have no idea who will be holding the key to the door, when the sky goes dark forever and the snow never stops falling.

“Smile, Natalie,” Callum whispered before he walked onstage.

So I smiled while he thanked another woman for the crisis plan I had written. I smiled when he pinned my grandmother’s sapphire brooch to her dress. I even smiled when his message came in, canceling our nineteenth appointment at the county clerk’s office.

Then I walked out with our unsigned marriage license papers in my purse and called the one CEO he hated most.

By the time Callum realized I wasn’t waiting anymore, I had already taken my name, my work, and my future back.

It had only been seventeen minutes since my wife passed away. My daughter was sobbing on the phone.

"Dad, they're trying to drive me out."

I stared at the medical report in the doctor's hand.

The first natural antibody carrier.Toxin levels in the blood: zero.

The same poison that killed my wife, that killed my six-year-old son…had left me completely unharmed.

The doctor lowered his voice."Mr. Miller, you have to stay. They're sending people to pick you up."

I let out a cold laugh.

"My daughter is trapped in the basement storage room right now. Is anyone here going to help her?"

Silence fell over everyone.

I grabbed the glass water cup from the bedside table.

"Five years ago, they handed me a disciplinary penalty and fired me from the rescue team. Everyone said I was good for nothing."

The cup smashed against the floor.

I picked up the longest shard of broken glass.

"Today, I'll show you all how a useless man saves lives."

My family's company went bankrupt, and my father was critically ill.

I dropped out of school and worked multiple jobs every day.

Debt collectors beat me and broke my ribs, but I couldn't afford painkillers.

Every penny I earned went to expensive medicine, all to save my father.

Until I saw my father, who should have been bedridden on oxygen, holding a champagne glass at a hotel banquet hall.

His words pierced through, "Five years, the punishment she earned."

The bankruptcy was fiction. The illness, theater.

All orchestrated because his stepdaughter suffered from depression, and I was her entertainment.

When the doctor finally spoke to me, "Days. You have only days."

I laughed.

The dying one had never been my father.

It had always been me.

I once believed that love could transcend life and death.

Until the terminal stage of Moon Eclipse Disease, when my husband personally gave the life-saving opportunity to my younger sister—that orphan girl I had rescued.

He said the pack needed a gentle Luna like her.

My son clung to her, calling her 'Mom.' My parents crowned her with what should have been mine.

Fine, so you all want me dead?

Then I'll stake everything on one final gamble.

After I die, I want every single one of you to be tortured by the truth.

Four years ago, I left my boyfriend when he had nothing.

Now, he's a billionaire. And he's forcing me to marry him—just for revenge.

Every day it's a different girl. Now there's a pregnant influencer he flaunts in my face, destroying what's left of my dignity.

"Kneel and beg her, and I'll give you money." He holds another woman and smirks at me.

I don't cry. I don't scream. I just swallow the blood rising in my throat.

He doesn't know my brain tumor is terminal. I have thirty days left.

I've already signed the organ donation papers. I just want to die in peace.

I stopped loving him a long time ago.

Three years ago, on their way to attend my graduation art exhibition, the cruise ship carrying my fiancé and my family caught fire.

Over the past three years, I downed sleeping pills countless times, desperately wanting to follow them into the afterlife. Every single time, my adopted sister, Serena, saved me, crying hysterically as she shoved her fingers down my throat to make me throw up.

"They are already gone! Harper, you can't keep living in the past. You have to live on for their sake!"

After fainting from yet another high fever and being rushed to the hospital, I was diagnosed with terminal leukemia.

The doctor said I had a month left, at most.

I refused their advice to find a bone marrow match. Clutching my family's belongings, I decided to go back to our old estate in the suburbs for one last look.

While I was walking in a daze, a little boy running wildly crashed hard into my legs.

A male voice that had haunted my dreams for years rang out from behind me. "Alistair, if you keep running off, what will you do if Mommy and Daddy don't want you anymore?"

In an instant, it felt like I had been plunged into freezing water. I froze in place.

A witch prophesied at my birth—I carried special blood, I could bear the strongest children.

Two Alphas I'd loved for ten years—the Wolf King's sons—swore they'd protect me forever.

Then she showed up. Maggie. My cousin. All wide-eyed innocence, claiming she had the same gift.

Suddenly, I was the jealous one. Every trap was mine, meant to hurt her. Every wound on me was fake. She cradled the silver fox I'd killed, tears falling right on cue.

They handed me the moonflower wine. Bryan said, "Don't ruin the mood."

When they accused me of treason, Ronald said, "Exile."

They dragged me past the borders themselves. Poison fire in my veins, bones breaking under moonlight.

I hit the ground. The last thing I saw was Maggie's smirk...

I'm the rightful fucking heir to the Sterling family fortune. My old man made me lay low, keep my head down, live like some regular broke college kid.
But there's this cunt in my dance crew. Walking around flashing her fake designer shit like she's hot shit, acting like she owns the fucking place.
And now she's got her eyes on my boyfriend.
To get close to him? She's telling everyone she's the Sterling family heiress.
Oh really? You're the Sterling heir?
Then who the fuck am I?

Everyone said I was just a shadow of Ethan, that I was nothing without him.
So during the tryouts, to comfort his "scared" sweetheart, he let go mid-jump, almost costing me my life.
He was betting I couldn't leave him, that I'd forgive him like I did the last eighteen times.
But he lost.
This time, I didn't cry or throw a fit.
I simply tossed the apartment key that symbolized our seven years together into the trash, then turned and walked toward my own world championship.

My husband's first love was in trouble.
When the news came, I was lying on the operating table.
Dr. Miller put down his scalpel and said to Dr. Johnson, "I'll leave my wife's surgery to you."

"If I don’t go now, I might regret it for the rest of my life."

With that, he turned and walked away.
Watching my husband's retreating figure, I couldn't hold back—tears fell.
The next second, the cold blade of a scalpel touched my skin.

Dr. Johnson spoke calmly, "Why the tears? With me here, you'll be fine."

My mom runs a laundromat, and that afternoon she had to step out for something urgent.
Before leaving, she made sure to remind me: don't forget to finish the load in machine number seven.
I found the old clunker tucked away in the back room and bent down to reach inside the drum, trying to straighten out the tangled clothes.
That's when my upper body suddenly wedged itself in tight—I couldn't pull back out no matter how hard I tried.
I was stuck there, ass in the air, frozen in the most humiliating position imaginable.
And that's when Matthew Bennett walked in—the college professor who always comes by to pick up his dry cleaning.
To my shock, he mistook me for a sex doll. His hot, thick dick pressed against my thighs...

My sister walked onstage wearing the medal for my stolen research.
Ethan stood beside her and mouthed, Don’t ruin this.
Last time, I listened. I lost my scholarship, my housing, my lab, and the only archive my mother left behind.

This time, I held up the U drive with the original files.
“If Sophie built it,” I said, “let her run the raw data.”

My Sister Wore My Medal

I saw a post on Reddit, "Urgent! How do I convince my wife to donate bone marrow to my mistress?"

I scoffed and typed back, "What a piece of shit."

Right after I hit send, my husband came home. He grasped my hand, his voice shaky: "You have leukemia... but it's okay, we found a donor."

His right eye twitched—he always did that when he lied.

Then I remembered the worst comment on that post, "Trick your wife into thinking she's the patient."

Life imitating the internet, apparently.

He wanted to harvest my bone marrow for someone else.

When I finally saw his mistress's face, my world fell apart.

I never thought his mistress would be her......

“End the ceremony,” Prince Kael ordered, his cloak wrapped around another woman’s shoulders.

Our six-year-old son stood beneath the moon glass, wings trembling, the royal binding already burning under his skin. If the ritual stopped now, Rowan could be scarred for life.

Kael did not even look at him.

So I picked up the sacred blade and pressed it to the bond mark in my palm.

“You wanted freedom,” I said. “Take it.”

"Miss Smith, I think I can smell your scent... it's so womanly..."

I looked down at the boy hiding under the lectern, watching helplessly as he had his way with me right there in the classroom, while I had to pretend everything was normal...

My name is Catherine, the university math teacher. With my husband always away on business trips, at thirty years old, I was like a nun guarding that double bed, never satisfied. Slowly, I developed some strange habits... and became bolder...

The bell for the end of class had just rung, and teachers and students were flocking to the bathrooms in groups, chattering noisily outside.

In one of the bathroom stalls, I was panting, squatting... my black lace panties down around my ankles, my face flushed with ecstasy as I indulged...

“Mr. Hale, step away from the chest.”

The officer’s hand stayed on the latch beneath my brother’s portrait.

My mother clutched the donation envelopes to her chest. “Lena is doing this for attention.”

Dad gave the room his lawyer smile. “My daughter hides when she wants sympathy.”

The volunteer pointed at the broken white ribbon. “Then why is there blood on it?”

The room went quiet.

I stood beside them, dead and barefoot, watching Dad’s face change.

Because for once, someone was about to open the place where they had left me.

Rosalie spent two years loving the man she thought was her fated mate.

On the night everything was supposed to begin, he rejected her, chose another woman, and watched as she was thrown into the Abyss to die.

But she survived.

Saved by the one man she never expected…his younger brother.

Now she is back with a marriage nobody can break, a wolf that refuses to awaken, and secrets powerful enough to shake an entire kingdom.

As betrayal turns into obsession, enemies close in, and an ancient prophecy begins to unfold, Rosalie must decide who she can trust before the truth destroys everyone she loves.

Because sometimes the greatest threat is not losing your mate…it is discovering you were never meant to belong to them in the first place.

When fate rewrites the bond, who will survive the consequences?

“You were never meant for him,” his voice was a dark promise, his fingers tilting my chin up. “You were meant for me.”

Elara spent her entire life as a human outsider in a world ruled by supernatural beings. When she discovers that she is the fated mate of Rael, the ruthless and possessive heir to the supernatural elite, she is thrust into a dangerous world of power, blood, and betrayal. Bound to him by an unbreakable force, she struggles to resist the pull of their connection.
But Rael isn’t the only one who wants her.
There’s another—Kian, a rebel in the shadows, a man who stands against everything Rael represents. Mysterious, defiant, and fiercely protective, he offers her a different kind of freedom. A choice. A love that isn’t bound by fate but by desire.
With war brewing between the supernatural elite and the rebellion, Elara is caught between two powerful men—one who claims her by destiny and one who challenges her to defy it.
But in a world where love can be a weapon, and loyalty is a dangerous game, the real question isn’t who she will choose.
It’s whether she will survive long enough to make that choice.

"Little woman, seems like fate doesn't want you alive. Blame yourself for forcing yourself on a man who clearly doesn't love you!!" The man spat the words with disdain.
Olivia felt the cold rush of air as she was shoved off the bridge, the assassin's face betraying no emotion except for a chilling smirk that never touched the depths of his icy green eyes.
…
Olivia's best friend, Harlow, pretends to have an affair with Olivia's husband, Chester. Harlow plans to kill Olivia and throws her body off a bridge, but Olivia is saved and undergoes plastic surgery. Five years later, Olivia and her triplets return to New York City to seek revenge.

"Well, you did keep your end of the bargain and we do have a little before dinner," she said wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him down. Trailing a kiss from his jawline to the corner of his mouth.

He opened his eyes to see her biting her lower lip smiling at him. Leaning down he captured her lips as they shared a slow, lingering kiss. Biting her lower lip she gasped and he took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into her mouth as their tongues began a dance so old time stood still, leaving them both breathless as they pulled apart. Covering her round bottom in his hands he picked her up and walked to the lounge loving the close contact as he sat down with her in his lap.+

"I'm glad you knocked me down with your car querida, or else I wouldn't have you right here with me. You are so..."

"Baby. Just shut up," she stated as she leaned towards him and kissed him.

He won me in a bet. He broke me in a garden. Now the Alpha of Lead Claw is begging for my help and he doesn't know I survived.

Six years ago, Pete Leadsilver laughed when I told him I was pregnant. Hours later, his thugs beat me and threatened everyone I loved. I left with forty-three dollars and a secret growing inside me.

Today, I own D'Matt Laboratories. He needs my cure to save his dying pack. He doesn't recognize my name on the letterhead and he doesn't know his son exists.

He's about to learn both.

Wha..what do you..you wa..want?"

"You," he said with a lopsided grin only his eyes showed his true intentions as he placed his hands on her waist lifting her up onto the counter stepping in between her legs.

"You..you.can't," she stuttered.

"I am, I can and I will have you Lia. This I promise you," he said nuzzling her neck before claiming her lips stealing her breath.

"Ethan no," she said breathlessly pushing him away.

"Lia why do you keep pushing me away. You know you want this as much as I do. I know you feel the same way as I feel about you. Why are you fighting us!" He growled frustratedly.


"Don't lie to me," he growled saying each word slowly whilst pacing in front of the door.

"Ethan I."

"Don't," his voice boomed as he stopped looking at her angrily as she flinched. "Start speaking," he whispered.

Stepping out of the car he stood in front of her looking down at her angry little face.

"How dare you disgrace me in such a manner. Where do you think you are going with her?" She spat.

"Woman step aside. Let me help that poor girl you are so afraid of," he said in a low voice. "It's funny how you feel threatened by a woman you have never spoken to, a woman I have not yet known," he said as his lips twitched into a smirk.

The queen seemed to think over his words an appealed expression dominating her features.

"Just remember who your wife is," she huffed walking away from him looking around to see their audience.

You want more....? Then hurry up and start reading

PS DON'T OVERANALYSE THE STORY WHEN READING. IT IS AFTER ALL JUST MY MIND GOING CRAZY TO GIVE YO'LL A STORY ☺️.

Their worlds were never meant to clash, but through knowing each other their lives unraveled.

"Don't think about Malcolm because I am not him. I will treat you better, give you the desires of your heart, showered you with kisses that will make you weak at the knees, even go as far as giving you my heart, but just don't leave me," he said looking lost as he pulled her closer supporting her some more.

"No, no, not again," I murmured as my heart rate increased.

"Then this is what is going to happen. Tomorrow we are getting married I don't care if you have to be in bed for the ceremony but so be it. We are going to live together as man and wife, and I am going to f***k that idiot out of your system until I am the only one in your mind, until you long for only my touch.....

She is an immortal being with an unattractive appearance. Who would love an ugly duckling like her? Who would take the consequences to free her from this exhausting world? She only wanted to be free from the curse and bring back her old self, a woman who is beautiful as the goddess. Charlotte had already given up, but she had met a man with the same physique as her lover in the previous years. She expected something from him, but she was surprised to learn that the man would be getting engaged.

Worse, she is unable to compete with this woman, especially given that Karsen's fiancée is a descendant of her best friend. What could she possibly do if she only have become the man's personal maid? Charlotte's life is like a cycle; what has happened to her in the past keeps repeating itself, but can she change it this time around? or will she be called as deathless maiden forever?