#jorah x reader

[charliedawn]

"Marry me."

How I think marriage proposals would go for those characters.

Sandor Clegane:

"…Wanna get married ?" You asked as both you and Sandor were sleeping side by side in the forest. Sandor blinked—half asleep. He had back pain and a headache. He had hoped that the wine would help him to fall asleep quicker, as to not have to hear you say any other crazy thing or request for the day. But, of course. He was mistaken.

"Huh ?" When the information seemed to eventually settle in his brain, his whole face seemed a perfect depiction of confusion. He finally turned around and you could see in his eyes that he wasn’t exactly sober either. You decided this was the perfect moment to ask—since he would probably not even remember you asked the next morning. It gave you courage to ask again.

"Wanna get married ?" You repeated with a little more determination and this time, he answered.

"No."

"Ah."

"…"

"…"

"…You. Wanna get married ?" He asked this time—more because he was curious than awaiting an actual answer. But, you took your chance and answered truthfully.

"Sure."

He was momentarily surprised by your confidence before he huffed a laugh and wrapped an arm around you.

"…Fine. We’ll get married in the morning. Now, hush."

There was then a moment of silence before you both bursted out laughing. Just two drunks having the most normal conversation ever. You knew that by tomorrow, he would have surely forgotten all about tonight. But for now, you were satisfied with the knowledge that his subconscience hadn’t said no.

Oberyn Martell:

"Would you like to marry me ?" You asked Oberyn while he wad writing and whose lips curved slightly into a small smirk at the request. He was used to your rather straightforward nature. He liked it even. It made him laugh and enjoy your presence at parties. You were curious and completely unashamed or afraid of any consequences your requests or demands would bring. This is why he always caved. But, he could also be playful and this is why he answered with a small grin:

"No."

He was curious to see your reaction, but his smile slightly faltered when he saw the hurt in your eyes at his rejection. It was the first time he had seen you so upset and he immediately regretted his words.

"Oh. Okay then." You were embarrassed and turned around quickly to get back to your own private quarters. But he was by your side in an instant and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"I was only kidding. I would LOVE to marry you, sweet peach."

He then kissed the back of your neck lovingly. You let out a sigh of relief as you leaned back against him.

"…Really ?"

He chuckled.

"Yes. Really."

He then kissed your temple and you stayed in his arms for a while before he started nuzzling the back of your neck.

"But what brought the subject, sweet peach ?"

You sighed before closing your eyes.

"…You’re the only one who truly enjoys my presence. You laugh and smile at me, even when my words are nonsense. So I thought…why not ask ?"

Oberyn seemed taken aback for a moment before his smile widened and he pressed your back further against him to kiss your shoulder and whisper in your ear.

"Let me tell you a little secret. I would marry you for your nonsense, my dear. Because your nonsense makes more sense to me than this whole world does…"

Tyrion Lannister:

"Do you want to marry me ?" You asked Tyrion one night and the man was so stunned that he spilled his cup of wine.

"What ?"

Tyrion was the most decent between all the Lannisters. He had helped you more than once and there was no doubt in your proposal. You would never find better husband.

"You heard me."

He stayed silent again and made you nervous. Would he refuse ? Would he tell you that he has already found someone ? Would he tell you that he has no interest in you ? But, he didn’t. He simply sighed.

"…Why ?"

Why ? You could tell him a thousand reasons why. Because he was one of the few good men you knew. Because you had no intention of marrying any other. Because you knew he could be gentle. Because he was funny. Because he could be brave. Because he had the heart of a true lion…but no. You wouldn’t tell him like that. Because even if you did, he wouldn’t believe you.

"Because I want to." You settled for instead and his eyes widened slightly in surprise before he smiled a little and shook his head.

"Why would you want to marry an imp ?"

"It is not an imp that I am marrying, but a prince." You retorted. You both stared at each other and his gaze softened as he started actually considering it for a moment.

"You would be miserable." You frowned in incomprehension at his words.

"Why ?" He glanced away for a second.

"Because I am not a good man."

You huffed a bitter laugh at his words.

"Haven’t you heard ? There are no good man left, my prince."

Tyrion seemed taken aback, but he couldn’t deny the truth behind your words and drank a little of his wine.

"Tell me, Tyrion. If I was to become your wife/husband. Would you hit me ? Would you abuse me ? Would you lie to me ?"

He shook his head with a small smile. No. He wouldn’t. You smiled back and Tyrion finally nodded understandingly. It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about finding a good man. It was always about finding the one who wouldn’t hurt you…And hence, he understood and maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a wife/husband ?

Jaime Lannister:

"Jaime…" You sat down next to him at the feast prepared for the Lannisters and even though you could feel Cersei glaring daggers at you—you grabbed his hand. He didn’t react, but you could feel his fingers slightly curving to hold yours.

"Hello, buttercup." He finally greeted you in a whisper and you couldn’t help but smile weakly. You knew of his heart and his loyalty to his sister. It wasn’t really your business to interfere, but you didn’t like how Cersei was treating him. And, you also knew that his heart could maybe be won over.

So, you did the most nonsense ever and challenged him. You stood up and faced him—catching the attention of everyone in the room as you declared loudly.

"Jaime Lannister. I challenge you to an arm wrestling competition !"

That ought to have gained his attention as his eyes finally met yours and what he found in there made his eyes widen in surprise. You were determined and even though he was a knight—you didn’t seem scared of losing. He tried to laugh and wave it off as a mere joke—but you didn’t back down and even provoked him.

"Are you perhaps not a lion ? But a scared chicken ?"

That oughta do it. He was up before you could even pronounce another word and the fury in his eyes made you smile. He had taken the bait.

"If I win, you must agree to one single demand of my choice without knowing what it is !"

"And if I win ?" He quickly shot back and you bit back a laugh.

"Then I will give you whatever you want."

In a matter of minutes, everything was settled and you were both in position. Everyone assumed you were mad or had consumed too much wine to challenge Jaime Lannister—but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You had planned it carefully. You had trained and trained your body and your mind. You had worn big sleeves to hide the muscles hidden underneath. This could be the most important challenge of your life and you wanted to win. More than anything.

The moment Jaime gripped your hand, his eyes stared straight at you as he realised what you had done. This was not the strength of the Y/N he was accustomed to…but it was too late to stop and in a matter of seconds—Jaime Lannister was on the floor.

Everyone was stunned.

But, you only gracefully stood up from your seat and looked down at him before smirking.

"…I will be waiting for that marriage proposal." And with that, you were out of the room—leaving a very confused Jaime and a very angry Cersei behind. But, you knew that a lion never backed down from his word. And Jaime would be yours.

Petyr Baelish (Littlefinger) :

"Marry me." Littlefinger didn’t even seem surprised by you sudden demand. Everyone knew that your father wished to marry you off to Ramsay Bolton. And even though Littlefinger wasn’t sure why you would come to him with such a request, he didn’t show it.

He didn’t even look up as he simply asked.

"Why ?"

You huffed a bitter laugh. The man would sell mother and father for a throne. And he dared to ask why ?

"Does it matter ?"

He licked his thumb to turn the page of the book he was reading nonchalantly, even though you knew that he was secretly weighing the pros and cons of such an alliance.

"Depends. What will it bring me ?"

You looked away.

"Don’t pretend not to realise how advantageous it would be for you to be a part of the Lannister family. You’d have an easy access to the iron throne."

He hummed and pretended to think about it. It was true marrying you would be a fast way to get access to all the nice advantages of being a part of the so-called prestigious Lannister family. But, it had its own set of disadvantages to consider. He would become more than just a little man in the shadows that no one would deem worthy of being a threat, he would become a lion. A black lion.

"…Tell me why you would lower yourself to such an alliance with me. Surely, there would be one handsome young man who would say yes to such a proposal without even blinking. Why go to me, princess/prince ?"

You hesitated before sighing in defeat.

"…Because if I am to marry a snake, better be one I know than one chosen by Tywin Lannister."

At that, Petyr finally dignified you with a glance. You held his gaze and after a few seconds, he smiled.

"Very well, my beauty. Lead the snake to the lion’s den then."

Sansa Stark:

You and Sansa had been longtime allies and friends. You were maybe the only friend she had ever had after the almost complete destruction of House Stark. You had developed feeling for her over time and knew that asking her for her hand wouldn’t be easy—but you were willing to try.

"Please, Sansa of House Stark." You knelt on one knee before her with a rose in your hand and the other hand on your heart. "Would you marry me ?"

Sansa was surprised by the proposal. She had married twice and both marriages weren’t a success. She had lived through nightmares and pain out of such a dream as marriage. She used to want to get married with someone she loved so badly, but not anymore.

"My heart is not so easily won by a rose and pretty words anymore." She replied instead—thinking that she would succeed in breaking your resolve. But, she was mistaken.

"I know. I know that I may never be worthy of even your eyes on me. But…I am a fool, and my heart beats for you. And if you want it ? Then it’s yours. And even if you don’t want it. Let me fight for you. And prove my loyalty to the most beautiful and strong lady the North has ever seen." You pleaded and Sansa was rendered speechless.

She looked into your eyes and saw only love and adoration. She then glanced down at the rose you offered her and after a moment of hesitation, she finally took it.

"…You may try to win my heart, Y/N. But, I cannot promise you success."

You smiled and shook your head.

"Just having you acknowledge my feelings is enough for hope to enter my heart."

Sansa smiled back.

Maybe…romance wasn’t utterly dead.

Jon Snow: (Before the tragedy 😭)

"Marry me." It was said with such confidence that Jon himself was stunned as he looked up at you with widened eyes.

"What ?"

"You heard me."

There was a moment of silence before Jon smiled and he suddenly pulled you into his arms. There was no yes or no. Just a moment of pure euphoria as he couldn’t stop laughing as he buried his face in your chest. He was so happy, he forgot to form words.

When he was finally calm once more, he kissed you passionately.

"Yes. Yes. Yes, I will."

You both started laughing together and Jon even fell back on the snow as you held him tightly.

Daenerys:

"Marry me." You demanded and Daenerys looked back at you. She didn’t seem surprised or even mildly confused by the demand. She knew of your feelings for her—and she was more than happy to reciprocate.

But, marriage ?

Marriage meant boundaries. Marriage meant attachment. Marriage meant she would have to think about you and a possible future where she wasn’t all powerful.

She sighed before stroking your cheek and offering you an apologetic smile.

"My dear Y/N…If only I could, do not believe for a second that I would say no. But, as the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms…I cannot."

You closed your eyes and a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You had expected such an answer of course, but still…your heart ached.

"I…understand." You forced yourself to say and Daenerys nodded. She was a queen. A khaleesi. And you were just…human.

Ser Jorah:

"Please. Marry me." Ser Jorah was stunned at the unexpected request and turned towards you with widened eyes. He was about to answer when you quickly added.

"Love me. Hate me. I want you and you want her. But, I am not asking for your love. But for your protection, kind ser Jorah." He closes his mouth and seemed to think about it for a moment. He knew that you were a young lady/man who had left her/his family to join Daenerys. He had no idea you held such feelings for him…

"You can have my protection, but why go to such lengths to have it ?" He finally asked and you sighed before taking his hand in yours.

"Because it is not only physical protection I seek." You then laid his hand flat upon your heart and Ser Jorah seemed taken aback once more. He looked at you and you didn’t shy away from his gaze.

You knew Ser Jorah was honourable and even if he would never return your feelings, he would make a far greater husband than anyone you ever knew. He would respect you and your heart. And that was more than you could ever wish for…

Ser Jorah accepted.

After all, it was only his name that you were going to bear and his sword that would protect you. You would call him husband, but only in name.

[llonelygoddess]

How they react to...Finding out you're pregnant

Romantic Pairings: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Theon Greyjoy, Jaime Lannister, Khal Drogo, Jorah Mormont, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Gendry

Ned Stark: This man is over the moon when you tell him you’re expecting. He’s raised 5 already but for you he’d raise another 5 if possible lol He’s always got his hands on your belly and asking if you need anything. His favorite thing to do is talking to the baby later at night when you’re asleep, whispering how much it’ll be loved and cared for by the both of you.

Margaery Tyrell: Thrilled. You two definitely planned this pregnancy so she’s thrilled to hear you’ve finally conceived. She’s keeping Maesters around the clock just for you and making sure you have regular check ups. You both love looking at all the fabrics and books and toys you’ll be gifting your baby. She wants this child to have everything she had and more, so beware your child may be spoiled rotten lol

Pre Reek!Theon Greyjoy: Theon doesn’t even know what to say. He’s nervous about what that would mean for you and the child title wise. Would the babe be labeled a bastard? Would you be treated as a whore? The questions will drive him crazy if you don’t bring him back down to earth. As much as he’s there for you, you have to be there for him during this time.

Jaime Lannister: In the beginning he’s more worried than anything. Knowing how crazy Cersei is he has to hide you away, promising to be with you soon. Once he finds a way to sneak away to you for good, he’s all hands on deck. He’d learn to cook a bit, take up the cleaning, even learn to stitch a little to give the baby an embroidered blanket. It’s not what you expected but considering his other kids barely know him it makes sense how serious he is about this one. He wants to get it right this time.

Khal Drogo: He sees you as his goddess, mesmerized with the way you carry his child. He kisses your belly and announces it to the whole Khalasar. During your pregnancy he doesn’t baby you, finding beauty in your strength, but he is wary of you being around the other men. They’re rough and callous and you are soft and breakable, something that keeps him up at night. Whenever he goes out riding he always comes back with a gift that he presents to you in front of everyone.

Jorah Mormont: He never thought he’d be lucky enough to have children, especially with someone as special as you. He’s definitely crying when he hears the news. He can’t help it, a family of his own is all he’s ever wanted. Even knowing how strong you are, he’ll ask you to stay home and to let him do any and all work that needs to be done. He’s heard horror stories of pregnancies going wrong and he refuses to let anything happen to you.

Brienne of Tarth: Finding out you're pregnant would be the scariest moment of her life. Which isn't to say she doesn't want kids, but the world you live in wasn't ready for a relationship like yours. Two non-men finding love within each other wasn't accepted, let alone them raising a child together. Eventually, through many talks with you and Podrick, she calms down enough to enjoy this special moment in time with you.

Missandei: When Missandei first finds out, she's immediately in preparation mode. With the life she's lived she knows how cruel and evil life can be, so she takes it upon herself to make everything as perfect for you and the babe as possible. She’s asking Danaerys for healers and compiling blankets and toys from nearby towns. You’ll want for nothing with her by your side. When she’s not in crisis mode she’s sitting with you in bed fantasizing about the languages and history she’ll teach the baby.

Podrick: He gets so overwhelmed when you tell him he faints. Poor bb. When he wakes he asks if it was a dream and when you tell him no he kisses you. He’s another one that never really thought about having a family but he’s more than ready and capable of doing it. He’s always gushing about you and the baby to Brienne or really anyone who’ll listen. Loves to put his ear to your belly and just listen.

Gendry: He never planned to have kids so young, but when you told him about the baby he realized this was his moment to step up and be better. Being a Lord now he’s able to take care of you in ways he never thought he could. Giving you a handmaid and guards is just the beginning of how he wants to support you. He worries all nine months about whether he'll be good enough for your babe, so please rub his back and tell him he'll be the best dad ever. And he will.

[daniellewritesfr]

𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲

Paring: Jon Snow x f!Reader

Summary: You arrive in Winterfell lending aid to House Stark but seeing Jon brings back lost feelings you both share.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, kissing, fluff.

Word count: 1.4k

Your heart pounded in your chest as you rode through the gates of Winterfell the familiarity of the high stone walls and the sight of Stark banners bringing back the memories of your childhood. You had, in the past, spent many years in Winterfell growing up with the Stark children. Your father became a good friend of Ned Stark; while fighting alongside each other during Robert's rebellion. Leading to many years spent in the castle. 

You arrived in the courtyard of Winterfell, the cloak you’re wearing doing surprisingly little to suppress the cold winds of the North. You had been called as a bannerman of house Stark to lend aid and fight the white walkers beyond the wall. You look around, all the people of Winterfell seem to have solemn faces ‘it’s quieter than I remember’ you think to yourself while dismounting your horse stirrups rattling, the stable boy rushes over to take the reins from your gloved hands leading your horse away. Your men follow you, dismounting their horses, gathering their things and moving supplies, all of a sudden the yard is buzzing with movement.  

“Y/n!” you turn at the sound of your name to see Sansa walking towards you, “lady Stark” you bow slightly she lets out a small laugh as she embraces you, “you mustn't call me that y/n” she smiles “well you are lady of the North are you not” you ask “that I am yes, but to you it will always be just Sansa” she states “very well than Sansa” you smile “take me to Lord Snow.” 

The castle is darker than you remember, as Sansa leads you through the doors of the great hall, you catch sight of Jon, the young man you once remembered as a solemn and brooding child.  

Walking past the large tables in the middle of the hall you pull off your gloves, you look up to see Jon sitting at the high table reading a letter “Jon” Sansa says he looks up, his face breaking into a warm smile when his eyes land on you. You can’t help but smile back. You haven’t seen Jon in a long time, not since before he left to join the Night’s Watch. “My lord,” you take a slight bow, he stands and begins to walk towards you not saying a word, his gaze lingering.  

Finally he speaks “My lady”. He lets out a small laugh before wrapping his arms around you, you can feel the warmth radiating off of him even with the layers of fur between you, he lets go resting his hands on your shoulders before they move to cup your face.

 “Look at you” he mutters, eyes raking across you he pulls away “I didn’t think you’d come.” 

“I’m sworn to House Stark my lord” you reply “it is an honor to fight for your family.” 

 “My lord” Jon repeated “since when were you one to be so formal”? He teased.  

You can’t help but smirk, while walking past him with your hands clasped behind your back making your way to the table running your fingers along the edge,the teasing tone in Jon’s voice luring out your own wit. “And here I thought that being declared King of the North automatically earned you the title of ‘my lord’.” 

Jon chucked, a low rumble escaping his throat, “yes it does except, we grew up together there is no need for formality between us.” 

“I suppose you're right” you agree, your voice lightening. “However don’t let that get to your head, a little formality never hurt anyone.” 

Jon raises an eyebrow playfully. “Is that so? Then perhaps I should start using ‘my lady’ whenever I address you.” 

You laugh “you can certainly try but, I can’t promise I won’t retaliate” 

Jon shakes his head, a smile dancing on his lips. 

A fortnight had passed since you'd first arrived back in Winterfell, and tonight you were dining with the Starks and their men in the great hall, enjoying the loud conversations and laughter ringing throughout the room. It had been a long while since you’d allowed yourself a good time. You spent the night laughing and socializing with the others. Not noticing the way Jon was looking at you. 

As the talking and laughter slowly began to die, people began to retire to their chambers, you being one of them as the fatigue from the day's ride was finally wearing on you. Standing up making your way out to a long hallway lined with sconces providing a small amount of light as you pass various chambers while walking to your own.   

Opening the door you’re greeted with warmth radiating from the fireplace, you walk to a small table in the corner of the room picking up a few letters that you had yet to open, before dropping them back down rubbing your temples knowing that the night would be full of endless reading.  

Jon hadn’t put much thought into what he was about to do, maybe it was the wine or maybe it was just pure ignorance he thought to himself, as he was making his way through the dimly lit corridors. When he arrived at the door, his heart was pounding in his chest taking a deep breath before he raised his fist to leave a soft knock. 

While on your 3rd letter of the night you hear a light knock at your door, getting up from your seat at the table curious as to who it could be. Unlatching the door expecting it to be Sansa you were startled to see Jon standing on the other side.

“Jon” you said surprised “it’s late” 

For a moment he didn’t say anything, his gaze lingering on your face. 

 “Evening” he said “I hope I haven’t disturbed you”   

“No, it’s alright” your eyes scanning his face for any indicator of what he was there for. Tilting your head slightly to one side. “Has something happened?” you asked 

“No, no, may I come in?” 

“Yes of course. Please come in.” 

Moving aside Jon steps through, making his way to stand in front of the fireplace. He looks nervous, still thinking something had happened you ask once again. 

“Jon” you pause, he looks up, his eyes finally meeting yours. The look on his face starting to worry you. 

The silence hung like smoke in the air as you awaited his response. 

 He mumbles, moving one of his hands to run through his hair, turning back to face the fire watching the flames dance. You cautiously walk up behind him reaching to put a hand on his shoulder, he turns to face you leaning into your touch.

 Long forgotten feelings wash over you.   

“Jon, please tell me” you insist, your hand now resting at his jaw he leans further into your touch before covering your hand with his. You stayed like this for a short time relishing in the moment, the unspoken understanding filling the space between you. Removing his hand from yours to cup your jaw as he draws himself closer, his eyes searching yours for permission.

You quickly nod, before he closes the gap between you, lips brushing together. Your lips part slightly, letting his tongue slip inside. His hand glides to the nape of your neck, then moving to your waist, pressing your bodies together. You moan into the kiss, hands running through his hair while he trails gentle kisses leading from your jaw to your collarbone, small breaths escaping your lips. 

Pulling away, his gaze meeting your own.  

“You have no idea what you do to me” he whispers. 

The look in his eyes was evidence enough revealing what he felt without uttering a word. Yet he continues to speak. Hands coming back to hold your face.

“I-” he pauses for a brief moment gathering his thoughts. “You are my every thought” He breathes. “The only person able to ground me, make me feel whole. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of you. How I wasted all those years believing I had no chance, only to be standing here right now. With you.” 

Tears begin to swell in your eyes threatening to fall. 

“You consume every part of me, body and soul.” He gently wipes away the tears that begin to fall. “You are everything to me.” 

You smile at him, leaning into his touch. 

“I love you.” 

The words feel heavy. 

He starts to speak afraid of your rejection, you cut him off colliding your lips together for a brief kiss before pulling away resting your forehead against his, shallow breathing filling the room. 

“And I you.” 

The words so lightly spoken, Jon wasn’t sure he heard them. 

Leaning in to kiss you softly once more, running a hand through your hair, his eyes full of nothing but affection. “My lady.” 

[m9yaa]

── .✦INNOCENCE; PETYR BAELISH ⟡˖ ࣪

part 1, part 2, part 3

⟡˖ ࣪ pairing: petyr baelish x fem!stark reader

⤷cw: mature content, innocence/corruption kink?, unprotected sex, age gap, power dynamic?, aged up characters, groping (non con kinda), sexual tension, sexual innuendo,

⤷summary: in which, petyr baelish seems to take an interest in you, catelyn’s and ned’s eldest daughter after the hand of the king’s arrival at king’s landing.

REQ! also not proof read!

⋮

with the help of serene, you finished getting ready.

your hair was kept simple, a half up half down style.

the dress choice of today was a pink gown with floral stitching and embroidery etched into the shoulders, neckline and mid way down your arm sleeve. it was a simple choice but a very classy and elegant one at that.

heading downstairs, the soft clinking of silverware and murmurs of conversation greeted you as you entered the dining hall. Your family was already gathered, seated at the long wooden table. They barely noticed your arrival, busy with their morning meal.

“Good morning, milady,” a servant greeted, giving you a small bow. You nodded in acknowledgment, trying to keep your composure, though inside you couldn’t shake the unease from the night before.

As you made your way to your seat, your gaze flickered over to where Lord Baelish was seated at the far end of the table. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, and the intense, knowing look he gave you made your stomach flip. You quickly averted your gaze, feeling the warmth of your face spreading.

“You seem quiet this morning,” your father remarked, raising an eyebrow as you sat down. “Something on your mind?”

You forced a smile, trying to push down the swirling thoughts in your head. “No, nothing at all,” you replied, your voice softer than you intended.

Breakfast passed in a blur of conversation, but you were distracted by the strange tension in the air, and the way Lord Baelish occasionally turned his gaze toward you. You couldn’t help but notice how his attention seemed to linger longer than it should, and the air around you seemed to grow thicker.

Finally, as breakfast came to a close, your father rose from his seat, signaling that it was time to leave. The javelin match was about to begin, and you would be accompanying the family to watch the contest. It was an event that promised excitement, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that your mind was elsewhere.

You pushed open the door, stepping outside into the crisp morning air, hoping the fresh air would clear your head. Your thoughts remained jumbled, swirling in confusion. Had it just been the proximity? The heat of the moment? You didn’t know. All you knew was that you felt unsettled, and it was a feeling you couldn’t ignore.

As you joined the others, Lord Baelish’s gaze once again met yours. This time, it was even more intense than before, as if he knew exactly what you were feeling. But how could he? You didn’t even know what was happening to you.

As you approached the horses, your thoughts still swirling, you heard the soft scrape of boots behind you. Before you could turn, a firm hand wrapped around your waist, lifting you effortlessly. Your breath caught in your throat as Lord Baelish gently but assertively placed you atop your horse. The unexpectedness of his touch sent a sudden wave of warmth through your body, and you instinctively pressed your thighs together, feeling an unfamiliar tension between them.

His hands lingered for a moment longer than necessary at your hips, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your dress before sliding down your thighs, giving them a pat.

You could feel the heat of his touch even through the layers, and it made you feel strangely... exposed. His eyes met yours, dark and knowing, but you couldn't read the expression in them. He said nothing, just stepped back, giving you space to adjust yourself in the saddle.

You swallowed, unsure of what to say.

The action, though simple, had shaken you in a way you couldn't explain. You had never been touched like that before even as innocent it may be, at least not so deliberately, and it left you feeling vulnerable yet... something else.

There was a fluttering in your chest, a confusing stir that you couldn't place.

You quickly looked away, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Are you well?" His voice was soft.

this being the first thing he’s said since yesterday.

You nodded, the words escaping you.

You weren't sure what was happening to you, and the last thing you wanted was for him to notice the way your heart raced or the flush creeping over your skin. You gripped the reins tightly, desperately trying to focus on the horses and the path ahead, but all you could feel was his presence lingering too close.

As the rest of the group mounted their horses and began to move, you followed, trying to ignore the burning heat that had settled in your chest. Lord Baelish rode alongside you, his horse moving at a steady pace, his gaze occasionally flicking to you from the corner of his eye.

The ride to the match seemed longer than it should have been. You couldn't shake the feeling of his touch, the way his hands had held you with such confidence and ease. And the strange, confusing fluttering that still hadn't subsided.

As you rode alongside Lord Baelish, the sounds of hooves striking the earth were the only things that seemed to fill the silence. The javelin match was drawing near, but your mind was elsewhere, preoccupied by the strange sensations still lingering in your body. Every time your horse’s stride shifted, you felt a light pressure between your legs, an awareness you had never experienced before. The thought of it made you flush, and you quickly looked away, hoping no one could see the heat spreading across your cheeks.

Lord Baelish, always so calm and composed, rode just a few paces ahead, his dark eyes occasionally drifting to you. You could feel his gaze even when he wasn’t looking directly at you. It made you restless, as though his very presence was pulling at something inside you that you couldn’t understand.

A sharp tug on the reins brought you out of your daze. You looked up to find the match grounds ahead, the field bustling with activity as crowds gathered in anticipation. The momentary distraction helped ground you, but the feeling of his touch from earlier still hung heavily in your chest. Your mind kept drifting back to it, and you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hands had gripped you with such assurance.

‘one little interaction with a man and this is how i’m reacting!’ you think to yourself.

As you dismounted, Lord Baelish was once again there to assist, his hands warm on your waist as he gently guided you to the ground. His touch was gentle, yet possessive, and you felt that strange ache stir again deep inside. “thank you,” you smile politely. before stepping away from him quickly, trying to focus on the spectacle unfolding before you—the shouts, the cheers, the clash of weapons. Anything to distract yourself from the disorienting feelings inside.

You stood next to your family, but your gaze kept flitting to Lord Baelish, who was speaking with a few others nearby. His eyes met yours once again, and that familiar look passed between you. It was almost as if he could see through you, as though he knew what was stirring within you, though you had no words for it yourself.

A voice beside you broke your focus. Your sister, sansa, noticing your distraction, asked, “What’s on your mind today? You’re not yourself.”

You forced a smile and turned to her, trying to push away the fog of confusion. “I’m just… thinking,” you said, though you weren’t entirely sure what you were thinking about. Your mind and body were still reacting to Lord Baelish in ways you couldn’t explain.

you opt on moving a little further back in the crowd, away from your family as you don’t want them to keep continuously asking you series of questions.

And so, you stood there, the javelin match playing out before you, but your attention was split—part of you focused on the competition, the other part still uncertain, still trying to understand why that one, small interaction between you and Lord Baelish is consuming you with thoughts of him.. ‘and his attractive face.. toned body.. an-’

Then, a collective gasp rose from the crowd. "Oooof!" The sound echoed through the air, followed by an eerie silence. You glanced up just in time to see one of the men crumple to the ground, the wooden pole of the javelin buried deep in his throat. Blood poured from the wound in thick streams, staining the sand beneath him.

You winced, the brutal image searing into your mind, but it was the reaction of the crowd that truly unsettled you. They seemed almost thrilled by the violence. It was as if they took pleasure in the life being extinguished right before their eyes. The man's body was quickly dragged away by a few servants, but the roar of excitement from the spectators didn't falter.

You shook your head, a mixture of disgust and disbelief creeping into you.

"I'll never understand how people enjoy watching this," you muttered, mostly to yourself, but loud enough that anyone nearby might hear.

To your surprise, a smooth voice replied almost immediately. "Some enjoy the thrill of it. Others simply enjoy the.. spectacle."

You turned to see Lord Baelish standing beside you, his face unreadable, though his eyes held that familiar, knowing gleam. He wasn't looking at the man being dragged away, his attention was focused entirely on you.

"You seem disturbed," he continued, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "But tell me, have you never considered that there's something rather... exciting about watching someone fight for their life?" His tone was casual, almost teasing, as though the death of the man meant little to him.

He didn't even glance at the scene unfolding before you. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on you, studying your reactions.

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of his stare. "I don't think excitement is the right word," you replied, your voice tight. "It's... unsettling."

He tilted his head slightly, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Perhaps. But there's something exhilarating about power, isn't there? Watching someone take control, even at the expense of another." His words were smooth, almost suggestive, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You glanced away, but his presence seemed to loom over you, his voice still echoing in your ears. There was something in his tone, something that made your stomach twist in a way you didn't quite understand. It was as though he was subtly pushing at the edges of your innocence, drawing out feelings you had never had to confront before.

"You're far too innocent, my lady," he murmured, as if he could sense the conflict churning within you. "But don't worry... some things are better learned firsthand."

You quickly swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken. You didn't know what to say to that-didn't even know what to think. His words were like a puzzle, each one more cryptic than the last, but they had a way of making your heart race.

Trying to shake off the confusion, you glanced back to the field, hoping the match would provide some distraction and that the now beet face red of yours would somehow cool down in the short space of time you have.

The thought of the dead man being dragged away still made your stomach turn, but Baelish's proximity only heightened the strange sensations that bubbled beneath the surface. You wished you could focus, wished you could ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest.

But his gaze remained on you, sharp, hungry, and ever-watchful.

The match continued, but the tension in the air felt thicker now. You could hardly concentrate on the javelin throwers, each of them aiming their spears with practiced precision. Instead, your attention was pulled back to Baelish, who was still standing just a step too close, casually observing the scene. His presence was almost suffocating, yet you couldn’t look away. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks again, a flush that had nothing to do with the warm sun overhead.

“You know,” Baelish said after a long pause, his voice low, just barely audible over the noise of the crowd, “you shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss… what excites others. It’s not always what it seems on the surface.” His voice held a certain smoothness to it, as if each word was carefully crafted to provoke a reaction. And it was working. You felt a strange twinge of discomfort mixed with something else, something you couldn’t quite identify.

You tried to pull yourself together, to push the confused feelings back down. “I never said I dismissed it,” you replied stiffly, your voice quieter than usual. “I just… don’t see the appeal.”

He leaned in slightly, his mouth pressed lightly against your ear, his presence suddenly overwhelming, and for the briefest moment, you felt as though you were the only two people in the crowd. “Ah, but you’re not saying that you don’t feel something. That would be a lie.” His words sent a ripple through you, leaving you breathless for a second. He was watching you so intently now, his gaze softening, like he was examining you in a way you didn’t quite understand.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. His words had cut through your defenses with unsettling accuracy. Was it possible that he knew something about you that you didn’t? The way he looked at you—it made you feel like an open book, your every secret laid bare for him to see.

“Does it… bother you?” you finally whispered, your voice shaking slightly. You hadn’t meant to ask, but the question was out before you could stop it.

His smirk deepened, and he straightened, his tone shifting to something more playful. “Not at all,” he said smoothly. “But it does make things interesting when you find someone who isn’t quite so… aware of what’s stirring inside them.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the familiar heat spreading across your body once more. The way he spoke, the way his words seemed to caress the air between you, made your chest tighten. It was almost as if he was inviting you to acknowledge something you weren’t ready to face, something that terrified you and thrilled you all at once.

The noise of the match returned with a thundering cheer as one of the competitors scored a direct hit, but it was distant to you, muffled in comparison to the pounding in your own chest. You barely even noticed the people surrounding you, the way the world seemed to continue moving around you while you stood still, caught in the weight of Lord Baelish’s gaze.

he moved himself closer behind yourself. “You really don’t understand it yet, do you?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, as though sharing some dark secret.

his body was pressed up against yours, you instinctively stiffened, but he didn’t pull away, his fingers lightly pressing against you, as though marking his territory in the most subtle way.

he’d rock his hips slowly against yours, so subtle you might think you’re imagining it. his fingers danced on the small of your back, away from the sight of any bystander.

You shook your head slightly, trying to regain control, but his presence only seemed to heighten the confusion, the disorientation you were feeling. Was this just a game to him? Or was he playing with you, testing your limits? You weren’t sure, but what you did know was that his words, his touch, they were unraveling something deep inside you, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“I—” You stopped yourself, biting your lip, unable to finish the sentence. What could you possibly say to him?

Before you could gather your thoughts, the final javelin was hurled with a sharp, whistle-like sound, its force sending a man crashing to the ground, an unfortunate casualty of the match. The crowd’s reaction was a mixture of gasps and excited shouts as the fallen competitor was dragged off the field, lifeless, with the javelin still lodged in his throat.

You stood at the edge of the arena, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene.

“Quite the display, don’t you think?” His voice came low, just behind your ear. There was no sign of discomfort in his tone—only a quiet satisfaction, as if the death of the man meant nothing at all to him.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on his words instead of the way his touch was making you feel, the way your pulse quickened at the proximity. “It’s… terrible,” you managed, your voice more fragile than you wanted it to be.

Baelish’s hands didn’t move, but his fingers tightened just slightly, as if he knew exactly what your discomfort was. “People enjoy it because it’s a reminder of power,” he said, his words soft, his tone deceptively casual. “A reminder that at any moment, your life could be taken from you. It makes them feel alive, even as they watch someone else die.”

You turned your head, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. You hadn’t expected him to speak with such indifference, to make such a chilling comment with no hint of empathy. But then again, Baelish had always been a man of cold calculation, never one for sentimentality.

“It’s… disturbing,” you whispered, your thoughts scattered as your chest tightened. His touch still lingered on your back, his presence too close, too overwhelming. It felt like an invisible thread was pulling you toward him, one you didn’t know how to resist.

Baelish’s lips brushed your ear as he spoke again, his voice now a tantalizing whisper. “You don’t like it. But you can’t deny it has a certain… pull.” His breath was warm against your skin, his tone taking on an almost teasing quality. “You feel something, don’t you? Even if you don’t want to.”

You stiffened, has he found you out..?

“I don’t…” You started to protest, but the words faltered as his touch remained firm, the pressure of his hands against your back both soothing and intrusive. “I don’t know what you mean.” you play coy and stupid.

His smile was faint, but it was enough to make your stomach flip. He didn’t respond right away, instead allowing a beat of silence to hang between you, before he spoke again, his voice now soft, coaxing.

“you know what i mean, just don’t be too quick to dismiss your own feelings.” His hand shifted just slightly on your back, fingers brushing against the curve of your waist. “what you’re feeling is natural, don’t push it away.” petyr says as his hands now move further down south, running his hands over your ass, groping the flesh subtly.

You felt a flush creep up your neck as you let out a soft yelp at the sudden attack, not only that but the words hitting you like a splash of cold water.

Before you could find your voice, Baelish lightly guided you away from the arena, his hand never leaving your behind. The sound of the crowd, the cheers, the dying echoes of the match, seemed to fade into the background as you followed him, still reeling from the strange combination of emotions swirling inside you.

⋮

hellooo! i was planning on making the smut part in this part but i felt like i rambled on too much and it’d be too long to add the smut part in now so it shall be in the next chapter, sorryy :(

anyways, thank you for reading and if you enjoyed it, don’t hesitate to like, share or reblog this post. thank you!

- maya 🪼

[interestingplan]

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

Jorah Mormont x F! Reader

Summary: After Jorah returns from being treated with greyscale, he finally get's the courage to tell you how he feels about you.

Warnings: 18+ content, romantic, fluff, oral (receiving),

A/N: this is my first time writing fanfiction for a character, so please bare with me 😭

It's been a few months since you've been at Dragonstone helping Daenerys with her reign of taking back the Iron Throne. With the help of Lord Tyrion you and him have been helping to advise Daenerys with that quest of taking back what's been rightfully hers. Although there is one thing that still worries you immensely, and that was Jorah's absence.

Jorah and you have been known each other for sometime since Daenerys became the queen in Meereen. You became close to him when Daenerys needed the advising the most from anyone, trying to help her rule while also trying to secretly hide your feelings from Jorah. Overtime, the feelings have slowly started to grow over him but it didn't become super deep until the day he planted a kiss on your hand before he left for the Citadel. Your heart raced a thousand miles, face heating up as bright as a cherry until he took off in that boat. That's how you knew the feelings grew so much more stronger than that. However, since Jorah's left for the Citadel he hasn't returned back in months and you wondered if he even was still alive which worried you, a lot.

Back at Dragonstone, you decided to head to your chambers for the rest of the day. Not sure where things where heading with this war against Cersei and the Lannister's. While heading back to your chambers you hear soft footsteps approaching from in back of you "Lady Y/N." the voice speaks so softly, you recognized it immediately. Turning around, you realize that it's Jorah. He steps out into the light from the radiating torch near him, his eyes never breaking loose from yours as you both stare into each other from a distance.

Without hesitation, you walk towards him and hugged him. At that point you didn't care about anything else except being so thankful that he's returned home. Jorah looked a bit puzzled at the fact that you hugged him, tilting his head down slowly at you and returning the hug back. Looking back up at him you reply, "I really thought the greyscale got to you, I thought that you would've died." speaking faintly while looking back into his eyes.

"No, I was luckily able to be treated at the Citadel. It was painful, but it was better than not being able to return back here." he spoke. The embrace he had on you never broke, he held you close while you both continued to look at each other. "Y/N, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about before I left but, I didn't know if I was going to return or not." Your eyes began to soften at him, your heart knew what was coming the small moment that you've been waiting for a while.

"The depths of my heart have been wanting to speak for a while to you, not sure how to word anything but you've made me feel inclination's of pursuing what my heart has been telling me. I hold very deep affections for you Y/N, most importantly I love you dearly." Your heart nearly dropped hearing those words come out of his mouth, you never knew this man could have such a poetic tone in confessing his feelings for you.

Jorah and you where now just inch's away from each other's lips. You had no words for how much he just poured his heart out to you, never knowing how much a romantic he was. "I guess you never knew that I felt the same way as you." sealing his mouth with your lips as you both embraced each other. You knees became like jelly, as you both passionately felt each other's lips. Jorah gently intertwined his hand in your hair deepening the kiss between you two. Things felt so fast, as you quickly left his lips and took his hand "We should, come in here.." you lead him into your chambers.

Closing the door, you reach back to him as you both kissed each other once again. The kiss was starting to become more frantic and hungry, feeling your body slowly press against his. He breaks the kiss and looks at you, his hands lightly tilting your chin up to him. "Y/N.. are you sure about this? I mean.. if your not ready-" You stop him short and place your lips back onto his silencing him. "Trust me Jorah.. I've wanted this for a while now.." you speak back to him. Jorah responds back to your kiss by wrapping his arms around your waist as he motions you to wrap your legs around his waist.

He takes you over to your bed being so gentle with you, the tenderness of his touch drove you wild. You've always wanted him to be so gentle with you, something about him being so strong and brave while defending you made you feel weak in the knees. Jorah climbs over you and places himself between your knees slowly kissing you again. "My love, what do you want me to do?" he speaks softly between the kiss. You didn't know what to say or even ask for, here he is fully giving himself his service to you out of his love and affections for him. "Show me then... show me how much you adore and care for me..." you speak. Jorah looked at you in such a way you've never seen before, this very intimate side of him. Taking that as a sign he places a kiss on your forehead.

He starts to place kisses' across your head, and moves to your lips. His hands find your shirt "May I?" he asks. You nod as he assists you with removing your shirt, his kisses' trail down your neck and collarbone and eventually reach your chest his eyes look at you and you stare back at him. You place your hand on his head as he continues to kiss and worship each part of you that he loved. He continues down your stomach still placing soft kisses' down each part of you. Reaching your pants he looks at you for his permission once again as you give him the signal, continuing to worship every part of you and your being. The feeling within you was something you never felt before, never thinking that Jorah would be this type of way for you in such an intimate setting. You've though about what it would be like before to be with him in this setting, but you had no idea that your fantasies of this would actually be happening.

Removing your pants just leaving you in your panties, he's still kissing your body. He looks up at you once more as he finally speaks softly "Again are you sure?" he looks a bit hesitant. "Yes Jorah, show me how much you've wanted to express your feelings for me." Jorah then removed your panties as he moved down to your lower regions. As your hand still intertwines with his hair he takes your left leg and places it upon his shoulders. Kissing your inner thighs and moving his hand and placing it upon your hips. Looking back down at him, you saw how he was being so tender with your body and yourself. Placing a few more kisses' on your inner thighs you could now feel his breath on your cunt as you where extremely wet by now. He wastes no more time as he starts to place those kisses' on your wet cunt. Eating you out whole by now, feeling the pleasure and ecstasy running through your body.

Jorah continues to fill you up with pleasure, taking his time to make sure his tongue does the work making you feel amazing and filled with pleasure. You could feel yourself getting ready to cum soon, feeling it almost too quickly with how badly he was making you feel good. Your moans weren't super loud, as you didn't want anyone else in the castle to hear how Ser Jorah Mormont was making your eyes roll in the back of your head from eating you out. "Jorah-, I'm going to-" Jorah takes a brief hold and speaks through "Cum for me, cum on my tongue." his voice sounded raspy. You released all over him, feeling out of breath as you finally come back down from your high. The moans leaving your mouth and feeling amazing with what just happened. Jorah pulls away from you and climbs up next to you, both staring deeply into each others eyes. The love between you two felt so endless, as a thousand stars danced beneath you as the moons glow from the window shined upon you both. Tired from the high, you both slowly start to drift off into each other's arms.

[justanoasisimagines]

Dearest Y/N

Summary; Jorah writes to you to ask you to meet him when he returns home A/N; Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider and the banner

I am writing this before I set sail towards Dragonstone. I have asked too much of you over the years. Selfishly I am about to ask something of you again. Would you head to Dragonstone so we can be reunited once more? I know I ask too much. For us to be reunited again after all this time. Yet my heart still yearns for you, my love. It aches to stand in your presence, to be able to touch and hold you. To hear the sound of your voice. For you to be the last person I see before I fall asleep. More importantly, I want to introduce you to Daenerys Targaryen, so she can finally introduce her to the woman she's heard so many stories about. The ship will take about two moon cycles. I hope to see you there. Yours Always, Jorah

[a-libra-writes]

so glad you're accepting some requests! i've loved your work for so long now. pls feel free to ignore if this doesn't strike your muse, i'll read basically anything you write.

i must ask for my fav ASOIAF boys: Stannis, Roose, Jorah, Jaime, and Sandor (you can pick and choose between this list, im definitely not expecting ALL of them 😭)

my prompt is awkward/untimely moments when they confess their love for the reader OR moments that make them soft for their lover (again, you can pick which interests you more....)

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT, please feel free to pick and choose what you wanna do, if you wanna do any of them at all! thank you and have a nice night!

oh thank you!! Im glad you enjoy my silly blog so much. I thought the "moments that make them soft" was just super cute and made me think a lot, so I picked that one. Your chosen characters are at the front, and I added a few more for my own self indulgence

No warnings, Reader is implied to be married in most. Also, Roose is Roose.

Stannis - There are many things Stannis gets sentimental for, not that he could think of them on the spot. It's all things that happen in the moment.

When he's at a social function with you and someone's infuriating him, it grounds him when you gently touch his hand. You might say you aren't feeling well, and of course it's a husband's duty to take you away from the crowd and make sure you're alright... then he realizes you just feigned feeling faint for his sake. 

Another time is when you defend him, especially against the criticisms of other lords. He can handle himself, and he always has, but there's something different about you coldly (and politely) telling them off. The harsher your words, the better.

Gentle touches on his jaw when he grinds his teeth, a touch on the shoulder when he's totally absorbed in something and isn't hearing your call, and wanting to take his arm when you both have to appear before the public. While he's averse to most touching, the fact you're considerate of that instead of criticizing means a lot.

Also, appreciating his attempts to please you, and saying so! Appreciation is not something Stannis gets a lot of, even when his best is put forth. Bringing up something sweet he did a while back will actually get a blush and grumble out of him. 

And while it may not seem like a lot, generally just supporting him in court politics means more than he can say. You aren't just performing an expected wifely loyalty, you genuinely want the best for him and House Baratheon. Being on the same page and working in tandem brings such emotions - relief, gratitude, affection - it can be difficult for Stannis to express with words or actions, but he's absolutely soft for it.

Roose - This can be tricky for his partner to discern unless they're paying close attention or it's been a long time in the relationship. Roose does not wear his emotions, positive or negative, openly. The most obvious emotion one might see is pleased contempt for someone he's just intimidated or screwed over.

Any softness would first come from his wife willingly touching him, usually when she's doing something simple. Adjusting his cloak when it's a little askew, taking his arm when visiting other lords, touching his hand during a meal when you're trying to make a point. He's told himself he doesn't care what your feelings are, he just needs a wife to secure an alliance and an heir, but ... well, it is easier if you're fond of him ... 

He's such a suspicious and careful person that overt affection may be seen as an act, so it's little things where you forget yourself that he thinks of most. When you lean into him as you both speak, or gasp in spite of yourself when he grasps you. The satisfaction of making you "forget" yourself is stronger than if you're doting at the start. 

Sometimes, if Roose catches you being affectionate with any children you both share, he'll watch for a few moments. Again, he tells himself it's simply that he "won" over you and that's the only reason he's so pleased.

Jorah - Tbh it's easier to list what doesn't make him soft for you

The biggest one is when you're fussing over him! Jorah is always the one who puts your needs before his own, so you insisting on caring for him and spoiling him a bit just gets him weak in the knees. It's hard to say what he likes best, but making his favorite meal followed by tons of affection is enough to wash away any fatigue.

Showing him off and being obviously proud of being his partner is another thing that gets him fluttery. He already gazes at you adoringly on a regular basis, but now he looks like you hang the moon when you take his arm and happily introduce him as your's.

And, he can't help but melt when you're sweet with kids. Wether you're helping a little one up after they fall or teaching how to do something, he just has to watch from a distance. Yes, he'd want children if you wished for them, but it's moreso he appreciates the compassion you show those smaller and weaker than you. It's sweet how children seem to rely on and cling to you, knowing you're someone safe - and obvs, if these were children you had or adopted together, it made him even more sentimental and emotional.  

Jaime -First, it's tough to know when Jaime is having feelings because most of the time, he's hiding it. If he's caught gazing fondly at you, he'll brush it off with sarcasm.

The easiest way for him to catch feels is just you being honest with your intentions and feelings. When you tell him how much you adore him, or you appreciate something he did - especially after you both were intimate and you're cuddled up, and you just state how you feel with no manipulations or strings attached, it does something to him. He doesn't respond at first, just quietly contemplating your words long after you've fallen asleep.

Another time is when you see through his arrogance and bravado. When Jaime's trying to assure you he's fine and he's dealt with it, and he isn't bothered by what happened at all actually, and you just quietly listen. That bravado wavers just so, and it just takes a few well-placed questions before he finally just caves and tells you what's actually going on (how do you and Tyrion do that so well?). The fact you listen and don't judge or admonish him is something that occurs to him much later. He can go to you with a problem, and that's a rare vulnerability for the disgraced knight.

Sandor - He is far more affected by you than he wants to admit to himself, especially at the beginning, but after being years of being together, anyone with eyes could see it.

First of all, you're so damn gentle. You always talked to him with a kindness and politeness he wasn't used to, and while he initially brushed it off, the annoying thing is you were genuine. You'll even touch carefully or be considerate of things that may upset him, like he needs to be protected, the huge "knight" that everyone is terrified of. It completely affects Sandor and for a long time he didn't know what to do with himself. Now he just quietly accepts it, allowing himself to be vulnerable and cared for instead of immediately crushing those feelings.

On the same lines, it used to trouble Sandor how you'd hold him so tight. It didn't matter if it was after sex or just an embrace out of nowhere (the latter is a bit more startling), and it almost sent him into a fight-or-flight response the first few times you did it. He's far more comfortable with it than before, but now embraces tend to send him into something of a "reset". Any anger or darkness that was clouding him will fade just slightly, and he'll lean into you and let his guard down.

Brandon - Though he carries plenty of bravado and confidence, it's pretty easy for others to tell when he's being soft on you, especially his family members. The easiest way to get him feeling fluttery is to rely on him. Yes, even if you're clearly teasing or messing with him, you like to have him carry you over water or lift you up on your horse or "protect" you while you both go on a walk in the late hours. It's like he's a boy with a crush again, and he likes to show off his strength.

There's also the simple things that get him every time, like when you take his hand and entwine your fingers out of nowhere. You won't say anything, you'll just do it, and when you kiss his hand and knuckles it gets the big man oddly flustered.

Asha - While she's certainly felt all sorts of soft around you, it's not immediately obvious. As much as she loves you, she doesn't go on about grand gestures or proclamations. It's just not her style. So when you do something just so damn cute and charming - like rambling on about something you love or ranting about someone who pissed you off - she just smiles.

An outsider might think she's just amused, but those in the know have never seen such an expression of adoration on her. When you finish your tirade, she just teases you with a kiss and a pull of the cheek. You ought to stop being so damn cute. Another thing she likes is when you're frank with her. When you honestly tell her how much you love her, or how happy you are - even if she didn't have doubts, it's nice to hear it.

Victarion - First, he doesn't think he's capable of such "weak" feelings and vulnerability. If anyone brought it up, they'd be punched. If his family brings it up, he grumbles and scowls. If you do, he just frowns and turns away. It's not expected of an Ironborn, so obviously he doesn't have any softness toward you. None.

Not even when you've managed to get him in your arms and have him rest on your chest - not an easy feat, this is always after sex and usually when he's drunk - and he can feel your skin and heartbeat. You touch his rough, tangled hair, and his scarred face, and his even more scarred back, and the huge man is like putty. He's heavy, sure, but it feels warm and safe. Later when he's awake and sober and going about whatever he does during the day, he'll think back on that embrace, and odd feelings he can't describe just pick at him.

A smaller thing is when you approve of something he does, regardless if it's an action or words. Even just glancing at him and nodding - even if subtle, he notices. It's like a thrill going through him and Victarion wonders why for a solid minute. Maybe he should do that thing more, or say those words again? Why does he care about your reaction anyway, and why does he want it again? It's even worse when you leave without explaining what exactly it was that pleased you. Asha says he'll figure it out eventually.

[axelsagewrites]

Not all these men are dad's technically but they all either have Dilf vibes or look older than 25 and didn't fit into part one of this vote with Robb, jon, podrick etc which you can find here

[chic-beyond-the-wall]

What Daenerys Targaryen would wear

(Hussein Bazaza, Fall/Winter 2019)

[charliedawn]

GOT characters x Reader

"Please. Dance with me."

Sandor Clegane :

Sandor was standing near the exit—ready to call it a night. He was tired of seeing all those high borns dancing and getting drunk on expensive Dornish wine. But when he was about to leave, he felt an arm wrap around his and looked down to find you—clinging to his arm. He was about to ask what the hell you were doing when he noticed how terrified you seemed.

"Please…Don’t let him take me."

You were on the verge of tears. He looked in the direction you were staring at and found some lord with a sleazy smile on his face. He was walking your way and Sandor instinctively raised his hand to clasp it on your arm.

"The lady’s taken. Piss off."

He felt you tense up next to him, but his hand on top of your arm kept you in place as the man decided to finally leave. Once he was gone, you wanted to thank him…But, Sandor pulled away and walked away.

…He needed a drink.

Daenerys Targaryen:

When a man offered you a dance, you smiled and tried to politely decline the offer. But, the man wasn’t having no for an answer. Finally, he grabbed your arm as you were about to leave. Fortunately, Daenerys arrived just in time and stood between the both of you.

"I believe she has been quite clear. She doesn’t want to dance with you."

The man was about to protest, but quickly reconsidered. He left and you let out a sigh of relief. But, as you were about to thank her, Daenerys turned towards you with a soft smile before offering you her hand.

"Would you like to dance with me instead ?"

Her hand was opened invitingly and her eyes showed nothing but good will. So, you took her hand with a smile.

"I would be honoured, khaleesi."

Ser Jorah :

"Would you dance with me, Ser Jorah?"

Jorah looked up at your hand and was about to politely decline your offer when he noticed your uneasy smile and the other man standing a few feet away behind you. He immediately understood the situation and smiled before taking your hand.

"It would be an honour, my lady."

He kissed the back of your hand and you smiled before being led away. You swayed left and tight slowly together and even though Ser Jorah only wanted to dance to help you—he found himself enjoying it as well. You closed your eyes and didn’t even think about your 'problem'.

You just enjoyed the dance until the very last moment when you had to part.

"Thank you."

Whether it was you or him who said it first—neither of you could tell.

Brienne of Tarth :

Brienne had just won her final battle for the tournament organised by your father. She had put to the ground many of your father’s best knights and when her face was revealed…You were immediately impressed. A woman of such strength on your side would surely end in a successful alliance.

So, you waited.

You waited and when it was time to celebrate, your eyes landed on the fiercest woman who had succeeded in defeating most fighters of the court. Her eyes didn’t settle on you however.

You felt a little disappointed by it, but the night was far from over. You tried again and again to get her to see you, but she always seemed to escape your sight. Finally, you decided to give up and sit down. But, you then felt a hand land on your shoulder and when you looked up, you found one of your father’s choices staring down at you with a malicious smile.

You tried to tell him no. He ignored your request.

But, he finally listened when the woman you had been trying to talk to suddenly appeared behind you in all her armoured glory. She didn’t need to speak a word as the man immediately released you and walked away.

"Are you alright, my lady ?" She asked you and you replied with a smile of your own.

"I am now."

Jon Snow :

Many people had warned you about Jon Snow. Some called him the King of the North—others a demon. You weren’t really interested in rumours though, but by the truth.

Hence, you had accepted to go and meet with him.

A war was brewing and you knew that strong allies were necessary. However, when you found yourself in front of the man who claimed to be Jon Snow, you immediately knew it couldn’t be him. The man before you couldn’t possibly be the King of the North. He wasn’t a giant. He wasn’t heavily armed. Or looked like a living dead. He seemed…normal.

"I am Jon Snow."

"..."

You looked him up and down.

Before he could say another word, you threw a dagger at him and he didn’t even flinch as it landed in a tree behind him. You both stared at each other for a minute until you finally smiled.

That man was Jon Snow.

For you saw no fear of death in his eyes.

"A pleasure to meet you, my King." You introduced yourself and bowed before him. "…The man who danced with Death and survived."

Tyrion Lannister:

"No."

Tyrion was aware of your situation. He knew perfectly well of the unfortunate circumstances of your upcoming betrothal. But…He couldn’t bring you even more dishonour by agreeing to dancing with you.

"Do not look so disappointed, my lady. Even though I am sure you are quite lovely, I wish you to spare yourself the humiliation of dancing with an imp."

Such harsh words which ignited a general hilarity that made you red in the face with fury. But, not against Tyrion. You didn’t blame him for his refusal. You knew how it sounded and the pain behind such a request. But, you didn’t want to give up. So…You did something that no person had ever dared. You knelt before him—your eyes staring at the floor in respect.

"I see no imp. I see a valorous and just prince. And I still wish to dance with you. Please."

It made the crowd around you fall silent. Tyrion’s eyes widened and he seemed speechless for a while. But, he finally smiled before slowly reaching for your chin to lift it up so your eyes may meet.

"…Don’t you lower your gaze. You hold more bravery and wit than anyone else in this room. And if that is truly your wish ? Then I would be more than happy to dance with you."

Jaime Lannister:

You were sitting down when you felt a presence in front of you as you ate. Your eyes looked up to find your ‘fiancé'. He was looking at you with such disgust that all food got stuck in your throat. You knew it was but an arranged marriage, but everyone knew that your betrothed hated your family with passion. Your eyes glanced away and met with another man. He smiled at you. You smiled back.

Unfortunately, your betrothed caught the exchange and suddenly grabbed your arm—ready to strike. But before he could as much as lay a finger on you, the tip of a sword was pressed against his throat.

The room fell silence as none other than Jaime Lannister had come to your rescue.

"I believe this is no way to treat a woman—even less a lady."

He then sat down next to you and smiled before eating next to you—an arm wrapped around you. The message was clear. And the man left.

"…You will get in trouble for this." You warned him, but Jaime replied with a cocky smile.

"I am a Lannister. And lions are not scared of insects."

Oberyn Martell :

You were trying to leave the party. This was too much. A man was persistently trying to get a dance with you, but you didn’t want to dance with a man who surely did not care about you. You were almost there when you collided with another man who grabbed you before you could fall to the floor.

You looked up and your eyes widened as you saw who it was.

"Prince Oberyn of Dorne…" You gasped and the man gave you a small smile before looking behind you at the man following you.

"Is this man bothering you, my lady ?"

You gulped and suddenly took his hand. If you were to say anything, your father would blame you.

"Please. Would you dance with me, Prince of Dorne ?" You asked and the man following you seethed.

"You were promised a dance with m—!"

"I believe the lady asked ME for a dance." Oberyn cut him off with his usual charismatic smile. "Unless your title happens to also be Prince of Dorne."

The man huffed before walking away and you let out a sigh of relief. You were about to leave when Prince Oberyn grabbed your wrist.

"Now now…Where are you going, little sunflower ?"

You frowned in incomprehension until Oberyn smiled again and pulled you flush against him.

"…I believe you owe me a dance."

Peter Baelish (Littlefinger) :

Lord Baelish had had your eyes on you for a while and he knew that being part of your powerful family would be extremely valuable. Hence, he asked your father for your hand. But, there were too many contenders for him to even be considered as a good choice. So…He observed you.

You were young, but promising as you danced with grace and proper etiquette with all your possible choices. But, he could see right through you. You weren’t exactly happy to be here. And when one of your possible betrothed stepped on your foot.

He stepped in.

He took your hand and almost pulled you away from the man. You were about to thank him, but Baelish had other plans.

"What will you give me for my rescue ?" Baelish asked you. You sighed. Of course he’d want a reward for acting like the hero he wasn’t.

"What do you want ?"

Baelish seemed to think about it before offering you his hand with a smirk.

"A dance."

Your eyes stared at his hand suspiciously. But, at this point ? You would have accepted anyone’s help in order to escape. He pulled you flush against him and started dancing with you. Your eyes widened as he led you away to the center or the room.

He knew everyone could see the both of you, but he didn’t stop—not even when you tried to pull away.

"Lord Baelish…That’s enough."

Your father tried to stop him, but Lord Baelish only smirked before surprising everyone by kissing you. Your eyes widened and you were momentarily took off guard. When he pulled away, he smirked before glancing challengingly at your father.

"Now…About my wedding proposal ?"

Sansa Stark :

"My lady…Would you please give me the chance of a dance ?" You asked Sansa who hesitated for a moment before smiling and slipping her hand in yours. You smiled before kissing the back of it and led her to the dance floor. Sansa had always wished for someone to take her hand and make her feel like a princess.

She had first thought Joffrey to be the one, but that felt like eons ago. She had long learned her mistake. But, it didn’t mean she didn’t still wish for someone to make her remember what it felt like when her innocence and virtue were still recognised.

And you were more than happy to make her remember who she used to be.

"You are beautiful." You told her truthfully and she smiled.

She even graced you with a small chuckle as you made her twirl and made sure not to touch her that might trigger her in any way. After her awful treatment under Ramsay, you only wanted her to feel at ease. At peace.

And she knew it.

When she looked at you and a smile graced her lips—your heart seemed to skip a beat.

The pretty wolf was still a stealer of hearts, and you couldn’t wait for her to devour yours.

[llonelygoddess]

How they react to...You being good with a sword

A/N: Not my best work but I'm open to feedback!

Characters: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Sandor Clegane, Sansa Stark, Khal Drogo, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Jorah Mormont

TW: Horny characters, violence?

Ned Stark: You'd both be out watching Robb, Jon, and Theon practicing with their swords in the court yard. Jon's kicking both of their asses and it's getting hard to watch so you excuse yourself from Ned's side. Walking down to the courtyard, you grab a sword and show them defensive and offensive positions. Ned almost objects as you begin but seeing his kids take your advice so seriously he smiles. If the boys can respect you as a teacher then so could he. Now, He didn't like the idea of you being in a situation where you have to use a sword but knowing you can wield one turns him on lol

Margaery Tyrell: In the life you'd live with Margaery it would be best to keep your talent hidden. It was scandal enough to be courting someone that wasn't a man, but if said person also brandished a sword it would be the hottest gossip of the city. So you save your skills for real emergencies and the first time Margaery sees this she is beyond confused and a little scared. In private she'll thank you for saving her and ask how you learned such a thing.

Sandor Clegane: This guy is the least phased. Like, he's definitely caught off guard by how skilled you are but not much surprises him anymore. He gives you tips every now and then but really believes in your capability. I like to think one of his favorite moments are after you both have had a good fight and you take turns taking care of each other. Wiping the wounds clean, covering them, and then taking a hot bath together ( or separate cause mans is BIG).

Sansa Stark: It kinda depends on which era of Sansa we're talking about. Like if it's younger Sansa than she's probably a little frightened of you but would be dying to hear the stories of how you came to be so good. If it was older Sansa then she's highly impressed and requests for you to be apart of her personal guard. She likely will ask for you to teach her a few things so she can defend herself as well.

Khal Drogo: Man is impressed. He values strength so seeing you with a weapon at all riles him up, but seeing you defend yourself from another Dothraki who spoke against you? He's immediately dragging your ass to bed, or he might just take you in front of everyone.

Brienne of Tarth: <3 Big heart eyes<3 Finally! Someone who can keep up with her. This woman spent her whole life being told that anyone who wasn't a man couldn't possibly wield a sword properly, and after proving that wrong herself it's refreshing to see you also beating the stereotypes. She loves to train with you and teach you things as well as learn from you. After your first real battle together she'll do her best not to hover but you can tell she's stressed out about whether you were hurt or not. Of course she knows you can take care of yourself but she loves you and can't help but worry.

Missandei: As an educated woman and former slave, Missandei never had time ( or the desire) to learn the ways of a sword. When she met you, you were training with Jorah and Grey Worm and she was impressed with how you could keep up with them. From then on, She's always enjoyed watching you train, your strength filling her with pride. She feels content knowing that you can defend yourself and her at any moment.

Podrick: Honestly, he's relieved. I mean, don't get me wrong he'll defend you without a second thought ( it's very hot) but knowing that you can handle yourself in a fight takes the pressure off of him a little. He worries for you, the world you both live in will eat and spit people out and the thought of something happening to you haunts him. He may try to give you tips ( even if you're better than him lol), so just let him help the few ways he can.

Jorah Mormont: You'd both probably meet while working for Daenerys so there's almost an expectation that you'd be good at defending yourself/her. In your first fight together you save him from a sword that nearly took his head off and after that day he begins to see you as more than just another guard.

[daniellewritesfr]

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Welcome!

I will write for almost every GOT character, if you have requests feel free to send them in! If you're wondering about my rules see This Post

Fluff ✼ Angst ✾ Smut ★

Jon Snow

My Lady (Jon Snow x f!Reader) ✼

Robb Stark

[m9yaa]

── .✦INNOCENCE; PETYR BAELISH ⟡˖ ࣪

part 1, part 2, part 3

⟡˖ ࣪ pairing: petyr baelish x fem!stark reader

⤷cw: mature content, innocence/corruption kink?, unprotected sex, age gap, power dynamic?, aged up characters, groping (non con kinda), sexual tension, sexual innuendo

⤷summary: in which, petyr baelish seems to take an interest in you, catelyn’s and ned’s eldest daughter after the hand of the king’s arrival at king’s landing.

REQ! also not proof read!

⋮

you’ve freshly turned 18, which already means your considerably lagging behind other girls your age, which by now, would of most definitely mean marriage and pregnancy, maybe a child or two.

it’s not that you don’t want to be married or anything, it’s just that any possible suitors or men that have came and asked your father for your hand in marriage, just aren’t what you’re interested or want in a man or boy your age.

so when it came for dear sansa to be married off to joffrey baratheon, your mother and father thought it’d be a great opportunity for you to come with, as you might meet someone of equal status, who does catch your interest.

you let out groans and protests in defence as you simply had no interests in doing that at this moment, it’s too time consuming and too much effort for a man who barely knows how to wipe his own arse without his mother there to guide him. but alas, you had no choice.

the morning of the day came. you, your sisters and father were leaving winterfell for king’s landing.

you were unsure of how you’d like it there as you only recall going when you were a mere child, too young to properly remember.

“hopefully king’s landing will be good to us.” you say to the lady in waiting, serene, as she finishes the last touches on your dress and hair.

serene is a girl similar to your age, not bad looking, brown hair, brown eyes, fair complexion, nothing to special appearance wise, but she’s someone you’d consider a friend.

no matter how many times you’ve told her to stop referring to you as ‘milady’, she always comes back to it, so you’ve just begun to accept it.

“i’m sure it will my lady.” she responds before moving backwards, allowing you to have a look in the mirror.

“you look beautiful my lady.”

“thank you, serene.” you smile into the reflection as you look back at her.

you take one last glance in the mirror before grabbing some light belongings yourself and your warm, fur cloak. you clip it around your neck as you begin walking out of your cozy room and into the harsh, much colder, hallway. your lady in waiting following closely behind with the rest of your belongings.

the journey there wasn’t unbearable. it took around a week/ week and a half to get there. at first the days started out wet, harsh and terribly cold, as you’d have to make camp up in the north.

the tents only kept in so much warmth and no matter how much padding was put on the ground of the tent, the frozen solid ground and mud was protruding through the fabric and into your back, making it difficult to get sleep and uncomfortable to relax, but ‘this was only temporary’ you kept saying to yourself, ‘soon i’ll be in king’s landing’.

the only warmth you managed to get was from the fire, before it went out and the fur cloak you had on, when it wasn’t too wet to the point it got uncomfortable.

as the days passed, the further down south everyone went and luckily, the warmer it became.

you got rid of the cloak a few days back, showcasing your beautiful, smooth skin and figure in the light, sage green dress you’re wearing.

it has golden accents and embroidery stitched into the more sheer, flowy fabric of the sleeves. the bodice is intricately structured, with a corset-like fit that compliments your figure nicely.

the neckline is a little bit more low than you’d wish for it to be, but there was no time for any other fittings before you had to leave winterfell, so it’ll make due for now.

the golden embroidery decorates the neckline.

the skirt is made of layers of soft, flowing chiffon or similar fabric in a muted sage green. The fabric gathers gracefully, creating a voluminous and flowing effect.

you had some gorgeous jewellery to go with it, resting nicely on your chest, lays a golden necklace, with an incredibly rare jewel embedded in it, jadeite.

it’s a similar colour as your dress, suiting well to the rest of your outfit.

in short, you have very elegant and beautiful attire on.

the next day is when you all finally made it to king’s landing.

it was beginning to get late as you stepped through the gates on the back of your horse, the sun was beginning to set, torches and such were being lit all around the capital.

the whole family was given a warm welcome by robert and cersei, along with the everyone else in capital.

you exchanged pleasantries and formalities with the family and whoever else you needed to do so with, which included the infamous petyr baelish.

“ser baelish, it’s great to meet you.” you smile politely before proceeding with a slight bow to show your respect. as you lift your upper body back up, you notice his eyes are no longer on your face, but lingering on your chest instead.

‘it must be the necklace catching his eyes, it’s so pretty after all.’ is all you think of it, not an impure thought in mind.

“ms stark, how wonderful it is to meet you.” he grins as he unexpectedly takes your hand and lifts it up to his face, taking his time kissing your knuckles.

you feel your face heat up a little at the prolonged physical contact, as well as the eye contact.

assuming it’s just a common way to greet people, you push the strange feeling in your stomach aside as you clear your throat and pull back your hand.

he lets out a soft chuckle at your reaction, “you look more ravishing than ever.” he says with a grin.

“o-oh, thank you,” the slight heat you felt in your skin before, now felt ablaze as you receive the compliment from petyr.

he observes the way you react to his words and actions, internally praising himself for managing to make you react so flustered, noting to himself your age, meaning you’re more impressionable and inexperienced than women his age.

something he likes.

baelish opens his mouth, about to say something more but not before your father, ned, appears beside you.

they both greet each other, keeping it short.

“i see you’ve met my daughter.” ned says, “and you, petyr.” you nod in response. “great.” he responds before turning to speak to you. “i want you to return to your chambers for the night and rest for now.” your father instructs, commenting on how the last week/ week and a half of travelling has been exhausting and tiring on everyone.

“one of the servants will show you up to your chambers.”

you comply, “of course father,” you nod, “goodnight, goodnight lord baelish.” you say as you begin to retreat.

you call over your lady in waiting, serene, as she follows behind you.

“just this way, my lady.” the servant boy says as he leads you and serene out of the throne room.

he leads you to your room, your lady in waiting has retired to her own chambers so it’s just you in your room now.

shutting the door, you let out a sigh before scanning the room, taking it all in.

‘goodness, i could do with a bathe.” you think to yourself. all this travelling hasn’t exactly kept you the freshest.

you walk over to where your belongings have been placed and proceed to take out your sleepwear.

since it’s considerably warmer in king’s landing than winterfell, you opted for something a lot more lightweight and flowy.

you picked out one of your favourite pieces, a somewhat sheer yet gorgeous slip on dress.

you normally wouldn’t wear something so sheer, but the fabric is one of the most comfortable fabrics there are, perfect for sleeping in.

plus, nobody would see you anyway.

after choosing your sleepwear, you walk over to the tub, you see the servants have kindly prepared a bath, the water still looking warm and inviting.

you quickly strip out of your sage green dress that has been on for too long in your opinion, to the best of your ability, and gently enter the bathtub.

you sigh in relaxation as you soak your entire body in the enveloping warmth. you haven’t felt anything like this for almost 2 weeks, and how glad you are to feel it now.

you sit like this for a few minutes, savouring moments like these as much as you can, but not before it sadly gets cut short by an abrupt knocking on the door.

knock, knock, knock

you hear against the wooden door.

you get startled at the abrupt interruption.

as you jump out of the bathtub, you can’t seem to find anything to wipe yourself with.

it’s rude to keep whoever it is on the other side waiting, so you just go straight for the clothing you picked out that’s laying on your bed, which you’ve seemed to forgotten what it was.

you throw it on and cover your wet, nude body up as you head on over to the door.

you pull it open, at first only spotting the guards that are presumably going to be out there 24/7, before seeing…

petyr baelish..?

“my lady, i apologise f-” he stops talking abruptly, his eyes take in your appearance, travelling along your body.

“lord baelish?” you question in a confused tone, “what are yo-..” you quieten as you watch his strange mannerisms. following his eyes, you look down at yourself, connecting the missing dot.

Petyr’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, his sharp eyes lingering on the sheer fabric clinging to your form. You could feel his gaze tracing every line of your body, and heat rose to your cheeks when you realized your mistake. Hugging the robe tighter around yourself, you cleared your throat, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t going to let this moment pass so easily.

“Well,” he drawled, stepping into the room uninvited, his voice low and teasing. “This is quite the reception. I must admit, I wasn’t expecting… such generosity tonight.”

Your heart thudded in your chest as you took a step back, the sheer intensity of his presence making it impossible to look away. “It’s not… I didn’t realize,” you stammered, trying to explain yourself while his gaze flicked to your trembling hands attempting to secure the robe.

Petyr chuckled softly, closing the door behind him with an almost casual ease, though his eyes never left you. “Oh, come now,” he said smoothly, his tone as silken as the fabric clinging to your skin. “Surely you don’t think of me so naive. Accidents like this don’t happen without… intent.”

“It was an accident,” you insisted, your voice firm despite the quickening of your pulse. “And whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

He took another step closer, his presence overwhelming as the air grew thick with unspoken tension. His hand lifted, as though he might brush his fingers against your cheek—or lower—but he hesitated, studying your reaction. “Am I?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, torn between the urge to stand your ground and the temptation to let the charged silence stretch. The room felt smaller with each passing second, his closeness a magnet pulling you in despite your better judgment.

“i-i barely know you, my lord, we cannot do this, it was all a mistunderstanding!”

Petyr’s smirk softened into something almost indulgent, though the glint in his eyes remained calculating. He stepped back slightly, as if granting you space, though the tension in the room hardly eased. “A misunderstanding?” he echoed, his tone dripping with feigned innocence. “Forgive me, my dear, but it seems I may have misread the situation entirely.”

You nodded quickly, relief flooding your chest at his words. “Yes, exactly! It’s nothing but a mistake. I wasn’t thinking—I forgot what I was wearing, truly. Please don’t think I would ever…” You trailed off, your face heating under his unyielding gaze.

Petyr raised a brow, his expression unreadable. “Of course,” he said smoothly, though his voice carried an undercurrent of amusement. “I suppose such… innocence isn’t something I encounter often. Refreshing, really.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, though you couldn’t place why. There was something unsettling about the way he spoke, as though he found your embarrassment entertaining. You took a small step back, tightening the robe around yourself like a shield. “I’m serious, my lord,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

He inclined his head, the picture of politeness, though his eyes continued to study you, as if committing every flicker of emotion to memory. “Oh, I believe you,” he replied, his voice gentler now. “You’re far too honest to be lying to me, aren’t you?” He took another step back, this time with exaggerated slowness, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “But you must forgive me for being… taken aback by such an unexpected sight. A man is only human, after all.”

You blinked at him, unsure how to respond. There was an almost teasing quality to his words, but his demeanor had shifted just enough to make you question if you’d overreacted. Maybe he really had misunderstood and wasn’t trying to suggest anything untoward.

“I didn’t mean to…” you started, faltering when his smirk returned, softer this time, but still undeniably Petyr Baelish.

“Think nothing of it,” he said, his tone low and disarming. “I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. That would be the last thing I’d ever wish for.” His eyes lingered just a moment longer than they should have before he turned away, his movements deliberate and unhurried. “Shall we speak of what I originally came here for, then?”

You nodded quickly, eager to shift the focus away from your mistake. “Y-yes, of course. What is it you need, my lord?”

He glanced over his shoulder, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Oh, just a small favor,” he said lightly. “But we can discuss it another time. I wouldn’t want to distract you further tonight.”

You frowned slightly, unsure of what he meant. Before you could muster a response, he reached for the door, pausing only briefly.

“Goodnight, my dear,” he said, his tone tinged with something you couldn’t quite name. “And… do be careful about what you wear in the future. You never know who might come calling.”

The first rays of morning light crept into the room, warm and golden, nudging you awake. You blinked slowly, your mind groggy as the events of the night before resurfaced. The memory hit you like a wave—the robe, the way Petyr had looked at you, the way his voice had wrapped around you like silk.

You let out a soft gasp, clutching the sheets closer to your chest as your heart fluttered with something strange, something unfamiliar. Your body felt warm, an odd, restless heat pooling low in your stomach. You shifted under the covers, trying to ignore it, but the feeling only deepened as your mind replayed the way he’d stepped so close, his voice low and knowing, his eyes…

Your face burned. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you shake this feeling? It wasn’t like he’d done anything inappropriate—not really. But the way he’d spoken, the way he’d looked at you… it had made you feel something you didn’t understand.

You pressed your palms to your flushed cheeks, trying to calm yourself. It’s just nerves, you told yourself. That’s all it is. It was an embarrassing situation, and now you’re overthinking it.

But the warmth in your body told a different story, one you weren’t ready to face. You’d never felt this way before—not about anyone, let alone someone like Petyr Baelish. He was so… confident, so sure of himself. The way he’d smirked at you, like he knew exactly what you were feeling, made your stomach twist in a way that was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. he was nothing like boys your age.

You shook your head fiercely, trying to banish the thought. “Stop it,” you muttered under your breath, clutching the sheets tightly. “This is ridiculous. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

But a quiet voice in the back of your mind whispered otherwise. The way he’d looked at you was the way a man looked at a woman, not a girl. it was deeper, sharper, as though he saw more than you were willing to show. And worse, some part of you couldn’t forget it, couldn’t push away the strange, tingling warmth that memory brought.

You buried your face in your hands, your innocence warring with the strange, inexplicable desire curling in your chest. What was this feeling? Why couldn’t you make it go away?

No one can know about this, you thought, your cheeks blazing as you forced yourself to rise from bed. Especially not him.

Yet as you dressed for the day, the memory of his voice, his gaze, lingered like a shadow, refusing to let you go.

⋮

hellooo! this shall be a three parter as i don’t want this one to drag on forever and the second one i also dragged out by accident, the smut will be here soon don’t worry 😝

thank you for reading and if you enjoyed then don’t hesitate to like,share or reblog!

- maya🪼

[interestingplan]

Unsure, but sure of you

Jorah Mormont x Reader

a/n - i honestly haven't written in a while and im kinda on a writing spree right now, but enjoy some more jorah content lol

Warnings: angst, jealousy, fluff, (no nsfw)

Summary: You've longed for the handsome knight Ser. Jorah for a while, however you see him constantly with Daenerys which makes you question if he feels the same way about you.

You and Ser Jorah have become quite quaint with each other. Since the beginning of Daenerys time with the Dorthraki, you've stayed by her side helping and assisting her along with the fellow knight.

You've grown quite close with Ser Jorah and have slowly developed feelings for him, he was always so kind, caring, and even considerate of you and others which made you fall for him even more. He truly was a knight even if he didn't feel like it at times, however if anything has been bothering you it's been his closeness with Daenerys. You noticed the way he treats her which such loyalty and it makes you question if the knight even reciprocates the same feelings as you do for him. You know you shouldn't be feeling this way as he treats everyone with the same respect but there was a difference in the way he treated Daenerys, thus making you jealous and starting to ignore him out of spite. You didn't want to ignore Jorah however with your building feelings you decided to do so to protect yourself.

You walk through the halls of the Great Pyramid awaiting the big meeting of Daenerys plan for conquering the iron throne. Trying your best to ignore the feeling in your stomach You enter the room seeing everyone around you as you take your place in one of the near-by chairs. You see Jorah out of the corner of your eye but decide not to look at him. Daenerys starts to discuss her plans with everyone about her ideas and strategies for claiming the Iron Throne. The whole time while you where distracted and in your own head trying to stay focused on the plans, Jorah kept looking at you wondering why you where acting stoic towards him. Jorah always knew your demeanor was jovial even during rough times, you where always happy and extremely kind with everyone however your behavior made him wonder what was going on. Jorah already had feelings for you, he knew it in his heart how he felt about you but also didn't know if you felt the same way about him. Both of you where in the same dilemma about each other which made things even a bit more difficult.

Daenerys had to dismiss the meeting early to discuss somethings with Grey Worm, you decided to walk out as quickly as you could trying to head back into your chambers as you didn't realize Ser Jorah following quickly behind you. As you reach for you chambers you hear the footsteps of someone behind you until hearing a soft voice speak

"Lady Y/N."

You already knew who it was by the voice as you turn around slowly trying your best to avoid feeling strange in that moment. You gain the confidence to speak up,

"Ser. Jorah" You try to speak in a confident way

"I.. wanted to ask you about something" Jorah speaks while clenching the sword handle on the side of his belt

"What seems to be the issue?" you speak again

"Could we perhaps, talk somewhere more quiet? Maybe in the small garden outside." Jorah suggests

Hesitating for a moment at his proposal before you speak once more towards him.

"That's fine, shall we head there now?" speaking to Jorah is a semi-cold voice

Jorah notices the way you've been speaking to him, the way you've become more distant, more avoidant of him. It killed him inside why you where behaving this way towards him, he knew it's because you where not happy. There was something else there that was making you act this way towards him from your usually cheery and kind demeanor.

Both of you started your way to the garden both walking side by side in silence, Jorah had the urge to say anything to you in that moment but kept his composure calm. He didn't know why you where acting this way towards him, it drove him mad and even a bit upset at times. You both finally reach the gardens heading inside, the smell of the fragrant Meereen petals dancing in your nose. You both find the more secluded part of the gardens where Jorah seems a bit distressed from his calmer demeanor beforehand, Jorah drops the formalities finally.

"Y/N, why.. why have you been acting so cold towards me. Have I done something that has insulted you or.. hurt you..?" Jorah asks his tone quite upsetting but not loud

You feel bad and guilty as Jorah starts speaking to you, feeling the jealously creep up a bit again in you. Not knowing how to respond to his comment you turn around and face him as small but subtle tears where pricking the corners of your eyes.

"I just.." trying to contain your voice

"It's just.. you and dany..-" you respond back to him

Jorah notices the small tears from you eyes as you speak these words to him, Dany and him..? He felt confused by your statement

"Daenerys and me..? what do you mean by that..?" Jorah started to pick up the signs, that you probably felt the same way he did about you.

You held your hand on the side of your face looking down on the ground as tears started to form from your eyes. Jorah sees this and looks concerned as he rushes over to your side holding your shoulders as you continued to weep while looking at the ground. Your hand trying to block your face from the tears you where sheading. You felt embarrassed and ashamed about how you where feeling in that moment. Jorah takes his hand and removes your hand from your face. Your eyes where red and bloodshot, eyelashes appearing longer than before as you still sobbed looking at the grounds of the gardens trying not to look at him. Jorah lifts your head to face him as he sees the way your feeling expressed like a watercolor painting on your face.

"Y/n.. there's no me and Daenerys, I serve her to help and protect her but I don't love her in the way you might think." Jorah confesses to you

Your eyes widen a bit at his statement as your tears feel a bit relieved from his words of reassurance. He places his hand on the side of your face and pulls you closer to him as he leans in and kisses the remaining tears away from your cheeks, reaching back up to look into your eyes before kissing your lips softly and tenderly. In that moment of angst and emotions, Jorah couldn't help any longer how he felt about you and his feelings for you. He couldn't help reaching in and kissing your tears away for he's longed to kiss you for a while. You also longed for his kiss, the tenderness of the moment relieved you of the intense emotions of guilt and jealously as you felt that all melt away. You briefly break the kiss to look back up at him still wiping some of your tears away.

"I just.. didn't know if you felt the same way I did.. you where always around Daenerys and I just.. couldn't tell.. it made me feel.. upset.." you confess to Jorah.

Jorah looks at you still holding the side of your face as he softly smiles while placing a small kiss on your forehead.

"I've been sure of you for a while Y/N, I didn't know how to approach you on the matter since your always very friendly with everyone and didn't know if you felt the same way.." Jorah confesses

This made you smile and laugh a bit while some tears still laid on your cheeks, this made Jorah smile back at you. One thing was for certain you two where both sure of each other in that moment, even with the feelings of angst and emotions, you both showed affections for each other, you both wanted love from each other. Jorah wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer as he sits you both down on a nearby bench, he continues to hold you close resting his head on top of yours. In that moment, you felt calm and safe even after the intensities of your complex emotions, it was a beautiful moment of endearment and tenderness.

[writeshite]

Jorah rougly fucking you against the wall, your legs around his waist and your hands clinging onto his shoulfers while he keeps eye contact amd tells you what a good boy you are

Your head hangs forward, arms drawn around Jorah's shoulders, and you struggle to keep your eyes open, "...can you keep them open for me?" you hear Jorah ask; you do and keen at his praise, "Good boy."

His arms keep you against the wall; your own legs having grown weak after so long, you were certain Jorah was all that kept you from slipping down the wall. He hits your prostate with fervor, always eager to memorize the expressions he drew from you, "J —Jorah..." He adjusted his hold, tightening his hold before ramming into you even rougher, "...ah...ah...ah...."

"Keep those eyes open for me, love," he pleads, but you can barely do so, ass raw from fucking, and muscles taught; you shake your head, crying with apologies on your tongue. "Shh, shh, shh, shh," he whispers, "it's alright; you've been such a good boy."

[shadeysprings]

Wilting Blossom

—Jorah Mormont x F!Reader

Summary: Trapped in the dungeons, the Lord Commander comes to make a bargain.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, age gap, size kink, vaginal fingering, coercion & entrapment. There may be more but thread carefully as this is a dark fic.

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's Week Four Challenge: Across the Universe. I started this event with Jorah and I feel it was only right to end it with him. GOT is one of the universes I love to dabble in and Jorah, if you know me, is the one that holds my heart.

Your feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated. Support content creators! And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️

With your hand outstretched, you try to catch the rays of the sun as it trickles through the small window of your cell. You bask in what little warmth it offers, the heat kissing your skin and slowly staving off the cold emitted by the stone walls that surround you. 

But just as quickly, you pull your hand back and push yourself against the wall, hugging your knees to your chest and shrouding yourself once more in the darkness when you hear the dungeon doors open. Heavy footsteps echo through the narrow hall, guards shouting and banging against the bars that confine you and your fellow prisoners, who in turn, retaliate by shouting curses in their wake. 

The tension in the air then thickens when you sense the band stop by your cell, their presence imposing and looming. 

“Unlock it.”

You stiffen and huddle closer to the wall when you catch the familiar timbre of Lord Commander Mormont amidst the low rabble of the dungeon. The sound of keys jingling and the lock going undone, your chest constricting in fear as the hinges of what keeps you separated from them creak as it swings open.

He’s the reason you were thrown into this purgatory. His profession of mercy when he stands beside the Targaryen Queen proves false when he gave no chance to hear your apologies. Though, deep down, you know you’re just as much to blame as he is. 

“Wait outside.” He instructs one of his men. “We are not to be disturbed. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Lord Commander.” Another familiar voice responds, Ser Jaime Lannister’s, but you hear nothing more than retreating steps and the pounding of your heart as you’re left alone with the leader of the queensguard.

His footfalls are slow and measured, akin to a predator circling its prey. You hide your face from him, not wanting to see the demon clothed in fine gold. 

“Don’t hide from me.” A command and you contemplate doing as you’re bid but he makes his impatience known when he nudges you with his boot. You swallow thickly as you tilt your chin up, taking in his tall stature as he towers over you, his golden armor glinting against the light of the sun and his sapphire eyes burning with devious desire as he stares down at you. 

A silent gasp then leaves your lips when he crouches at your level,  “How was your stay here, thief?” He asks, a smirk forming on his lips and you divert your eyes away. “Cold isn’t it? You’d rather be out in the sun?” His tone makes your blood start boiling, anger burning in your chest as he taunts you with freedom.

But your chest quickens when he reaches behind him, your arms instinctively shielding yourself as you expect him to pull out a dagger and give you your sentence right there on the muddy floors of the cell. Yet, the blow doesn’t come, instead, you hear him chuckling, mirth present in his voice and you peek through your arms to see him holding out a loaf than a weapon. 

“Take it,” he urges. “I know you’re hungry.” You stare at the offered food, stomach growling at the sight. “This will taste better than the slop they feed you lot down here.” His voice is calm yet calculating all the same, but all at once soothing, if you’re to be honest with yourself. 

Hesitation fills you, eyes shifting from the loaf and then at him. For you know there are more creative ways to kill a peasant than to throw them under the blade. 

“It’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re thinking.” The Lord Commander chuckles and rips a piece of the bread before tossing it in his mouth.

As soon as he finishes, parting his lips to expose the empty cavern, you snatch the fare from his grasp and bite into it with greed, the spongy texture tickling your mouth and settling your hunger, humming a moan at the taste. 

Ser Jorah laughs once more, his eyes light with amusement as he watches you feast. “There’s more where that came from,” He coos, and you watch him closely when he shifts to near you, keeping the bread to your lips in fear of him taking it away. “Maybe some meat and cheese, lemon cakes too, if you wish. Wouldn’t you want that?” You feel your mouth water as he lists down the items, your stomach rumbling once more. 

“I can give you so much more, petal,” He continues, your body going rigid as dread crawls up your spine when his gloved hand reaches over to caress your arm, the blue pools in his turning darker and you hear his breathing grow heavier. “A warm bed, a full belly, a better life.” The knight breathes, “And you need only give me what I want in return.”

“And what is that?” Your voice comes out in an instant, startling both of you, the Lord Commander’s grin widening at your question. 

“You.”

Your brow furrows and the anger from before returns in a burst of flames, throwing the half-eaten loaf at his face and quickly pushing yourself from the ground and making your way out of your cell.

But such an attempt of escape is fruitless; Ser Jorah easily recovers from your pitiful attack and grabs you by the ankle, making you fall to the ground and cry in pain and soon in fear when he crawls over you, gasping when the length of his arm pins your shoulders to the muddy ground.

“Ah, ah,” He tuts and laughs as you struggle against his hold, nails scraping on the cobblestone floor as you try to get away from him, but you choke when his arm slips to the back of your neck, weeping uncontrollably and begging for his mercy upon feeling his other hand slip underneath your skirt. “Disobedient girls don’t get that privilege,” Hot breath fans over your cheek when he leans closer, crushing you with the weight of his armor. “They are left to rot in cells while men come and go as they please, to rape them, torture them even.”

“Ser—” You cry, “Please—”

“And I would hate to see a pretty flower like you be ruined, watching your petals wilt away.” Your lips tremble when he presses his nose against your hair, disgust blooming at the pit of your stomach when he rolls his hips, feeling the erection in his breeches press against your ass. “But I am a forgiving and generous man, and I can save you from such fate.” He slowly eases off of you and you groan when he flips you to your back, only to pin you down once more with his arm over your chest. 

You lock eyes with him, your mind swimming in the words of the Lord Commander, drowning in them for you know them to be true. How whispers fly across the city of women taken into captivity, treated like whores, and leaving with either a babe in their belly or hanging at the center of King’s Landing.

But should that alone be the drive for you to take his offer? A life of servitude to the knight? A bed warmer? You regale in the thought and realize it makes no difference if one man or several take you against your will because all the same, you’re nothing but a thing to be used, an object to the eyes of the nobles and ones of power, keeping you bound to whichever hell they see fit. 

You’ve heard stories of the Lord Commander, the once Lord of the northernmost island, knighted by King Robert himself at the Siege of Pyke. How he was exiled to the neighboring country for his misdeeds yet found back his honor at the side of the Dragon Queen. 

They said he was a just, merciful, and honorable man, but what you see before you are anything but, for there is no mercy dripping from his tongue nor honor looming in his eyes, only hunger for the flesh—your flesh—and greed for control over the ones who have none.

Still, you are nothing compared to him; a peasant of the city—no power or riches to bargain for your freedom.

“So, what will it be, thief?” He asks, looking up into his sapphires with fear as you decide and give your answer.

That was but a year ago, the dregs of the dungeon are now washed away by the cool waters you’re allowed to indulge in the vast chamber. Your rags, replaced with sheer silk dresses—luxurious as they seem, they give you no sense of decency as they expose everything underneath. But food is no longer scarce, one you treat as a blessing yet such gifts are nothing but a tether to your new prison. 

You sit by the plush chaise, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks that hold the fortress of the Red Keep filling your ears while you watch the strong winds blow against the sails of the ships that come in and out of the capitol. You can’t help but long to set foot on the sandy beaches once more, to bask in the freedom you once knew before being found by the Lord Commander himself stalking in the royal kitchen.

You may have simply been surviving in the past—fleeting through the narrow walk of Flea Bottom and rummaging through the wastes of the highborn for something to eat—but, at the least, you were free.

The door of the chamber swings open and you immediately stand from your perch, folding your hands at your front as you watch Ser Jorah walk in, his golden armor glowing in the afternoon light and you swallow thickly when he flicks the lock within. 

His eyes meet yours and your spine tingles in fear when you see the hunger within them. He unties the belt holding his sword from his waist and hangs it by the hook at the side of the door before slowly walking over to the chaise, measured hand pulling off his gloves and tossing them on the plush surface. 

“Wine.” He says after dropping himself on the settee and you quickly reach for the jug on the table in front, kneeling as you pour a generous amount into the goblet. 

With careful hands you hold it out to him, giving you a smile before taking the cup from your grasp and holding out his hand to you in return. You take it and follow his lead, standing between his parted legs before settling yourself on his thick thigh when he nudges you to sit. 

He then lifts the cup to his lips, taking long and heavy gulps with some of the red liquid spilling from the sides and clinging to his golden beard. As soon as he finishes, he leans forward to set the goblet on the low table before focusing his attention on you, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist while his other hand rests on your knee, kneading it before caressing the expanse of your thigh. 

“How are you while I was away, little flower?” He asks, “I hope you weren’t too lonely.”

“The view of the sea kept me entertained, Ser.” You murmur, squeaking in surprise when he pulls you flush against him. 

“I bring you good news then.” He drones, shifting you on his lap and you grab his arm when he presses your back against his plated chest, hooking your knees over his and spreading your legs wide when he parts his. “I sail for Dorne in a fortnight and I’m taking you with me.” His voice is low, whispering against your ear and your chest tightens when he bunches the skirt of your dress over your waist, shivering, skin tingling when his hand skims over your inner thigh. 

“A m-most generous o-offer, Ser—” You mumble, your other hand gripping his wrist as you try to push him away, gasping as an aching need bloom at the pit of your abdomen when he finds purchase of your cunt and rolls a finger against your sacred bud. “But p-people will s-see—the queen—” The words die on your lips when he quickens the movement of his hand, your lips parting, mouth hanging open as you try to catch your breath. 

“I care not of whispers,” He growls against the crown of your head, and you gasp sharply when he slips two fingers past the folds of your weeping blossom. “Everyone should know who it is you belong to.”

He clutches your waist tight, keeping you pressed to him as he fucks you desperately with his hand, the walls of your cunt stretching wide at the thickness of his fingers and the soreness from the night before burning within once more along with the fire of your unwanted desire. 

Words of pleas for him to stop linger at your lips but never leave, your legs shaking as your arousal spikes, your cunt slickening further, allowing him to thrust deeper to his knuckles. His arm on your waist moves, but only to frame his fingers around your neck, turning your head for you to face him and capture your lips to pull you into a heated kiss. 

He swallows your moans, devouring every sound you make and your stomach quakes, making you pull away from his lips when you let out a silent scream as pleasure crashes over you, your eyes blowing wide and gasping heavily when you shudder at your release, coating his fingers with your essence. 

Deep chuckles emit from him and you tremble when he slips his digits from your cunt, your walls clenching on nothing and your mind protesting against the longing of your body. You pant heavily against his chest, daring to peek up at him when you hear him produce such lewd sounds and watch him slip his fingers into his lips,  licking them clean. 

“Such a sweet nectar from the sweetest flower.” He drones and you whimper when he gives your lips one last kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue before staggering forward when he pushes you off of him, holding onto the small table to keep yourself from falling to the ground

You hear him shuffle behind you, sounds of clasps being undone, and you startle when he grabs your arm, pulling you to stand before nudging you towards the bedchamber. 

“On the bed, petal.” He instructs, “I’ve given you pleasure, and it’s your turn to return the favor.”

I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springdandelixn-archives and turn on notifications.

Also, I just want to thank @darkficsyouneveraskedfor and @navybrat817 for hosting this event. It was truly such a joy to write with the themes you've set and I've met such amazing and talented people along the way.