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tessimagines · 1 year

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Hello, I’d like to make a request. 💥+Game of Thrones+ a preference about how they would react if you comforted them when they were crying/vulnerable. Feel free to pick the characters you want!

GoT Preference: Comforting them & their Reaction

Jon Snow

We all know Jon is broody

Therefore, he can have a bit of trouble accepting comfort

You can always tell when something is wrong, and will let him know you are always open for comfort

At night, that is when Jon can loosen up a little more

Comforting generally starts with small physical touches, like running a hand through his hair of placing a hand on his back and kissing his cheek

He will eventually begin to talk and accept more physical comfort

The night will end with Jon's head on your chest, you placing soft kisses to his forehead

He doesn't cry often, but knows that if he does in front of you, you will never judge him

He appreciates your comfort more than he lets on

He rarely verbally thanks you, but sometimes, he will leave a little thank you note for you to find in the morning

Robb Stark

Robb knows he can immediately come to you for comfort

If he has any issues or problems, you are generally the first person he wants to discuss them with

After meetings with the heads of other Northern Houses, they will be dismissed and you will stay behind to talk things over

If something is emotionally getting to him, he is the kind of person who wants to talk it over

You can stay up all night, talking over the things that are upsetting him

He also appreciates physical comfort, like holding his hand while he is talking

When he is finished getting all of his emotions out and hearing any of the advise you might have, he will take your face in his hands and kiss you

It's a deep and passionate thank you, one that shows how grateful he is to have you

Eddard Stark

Ned likes to bottle up his emotions

He knows he can always turn to you but it is hard for him to be vulnerable around other people

When things really get to him, he tends to become silent

This is when you know

You will comfort him with a kiss first, and cuddle up to him

He doesn't need words

If he cries, you don't say anything, you know he would rather you just remain physically close

You know he is beginning to feel better when starts to place kisses to your forehead

He doesn't need to say thank you for you to know he appreciates your comfort

The thank you is there when he finds peace and falls asleep in your arms

Jaime Lannister

Jaime is another one who bottles up his emotions

If you ever ask him if he is okay, the answer is always the same: "I'm fine."

Him knowing you care is generally more than enough of a comfort to him

Just asking and a kiss to his cheek is enough to make him feel better. Not completely better, but significantly

Jaime will never admit it but he loves head scratches when he is sad or stressed

He does find it hard to thank you, that requires a vulnerability he doesn't like to show

There are some nights, however, where everything just comes to a head

Tears, sobs, everything. He will start talking about whatever is bothering him with no limitations

In these moments, you just sit and listen. Just the idea of being listened to is perfect for Jaime

To thank you after those nights, he will run you a bath or buy you a gift as a thank you

sometimes, he will even sum up the courage to whisper a thank you in your ear

Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion knows he can rely on you

But when you have spent your whole life being unloved by the people who are supposed to love you most, it can be hard to trust

That's why he can become distant when he is upset

He doesn't like showing vulnerability in fear that you will laugh

He knows this will never happen, but he can't let that feeling go sometimes

When you kiss him though, sometimes you can feel him melt into it

He loves physical comfort

He appreciates that affection more than he could possibly put into words

In these moments, when he can feel you are there for him, sometimes he will let himself cry

And you will just hold him, slowly running your fingers though the mop of curls on his head

He is simple in the way he thanks you - "I love you"

Tormund Giantsbane

Tormund is very open with his feelings

He, of course, likes to appear strong in front of others, but Tormund doesn't seem to equate weakness as being emotionally open and vulnerable

No, to him, that is a showing of true strength

When Tormund is feeling sad or down, he will tell you he is sad or down

He seeks out your comfort more than most men would

If he needs you to hold him, he will tell you and then lie in your arms for as long as he needs

He is not much of a crier, but he is not afraid to shed some tears in front of you

Tormund's way of making it up to you, is a little more physical than others

He is not afraid to show you intimately how much he appreciates your comfort

Sandor Clegane

This man is the king 👑 of repressed emotion

He will simply refuse to accept that anything is wrong with him

If you offer comfort, he is simply not accepting

Dedication is key, however, and sometimes, rarely, Sandor will let you hold him

He might grumble about it, telling you that you are being "fucking stupid", but inside, he revels in it

That physical connection has the power to calm any emotional storm going through them

He will never let you know though, no, that would be way too vulnerable

Jorah Mormont

Jorah is a man who thrives off words of affirmation

The most effective way to comfort him is to reassure him through words

He can totally feel himself calm at your reassurances

Sometimes, all he needs to hear is that he is enough and you love him more than he could possibly imagine

Every time you comfort him, Jorah wonders how he ever ended up having a love like yours

Afterwards, all he wants to do is hold you in his arms and place kisses to your cheek

Sometimes, you have to stop him from continuously thanking you

Oberyn Martell

Oberyn Martell is an emotive man

It is very easy to tell when he is upset

He is honest and real about his emotions, always

He likes to talk them over with you and hear any advise you can offer

Sometimes, though, all he wants or needs is for you to listen

Some nights can be entirely full of him talking about his issues

This will always lead to talk of Elia

As these nights progress, Oberyn's mood always seems to improve

He slowly moves closer

By the end of the night, he has his arms around you and is placing soft kisses all over your body

Oberyn shows his appreciation through pleasure, letting his body do the talking

Gendry Waters

Gendry can get grumpy when he is upset

When he snaps at you, which is rarely, this is when you know something is wrong

A few moments of silence go by before he takes a deep breath and apologises

You don't ever say anything, but instead, you walk over and just wrap your arms around his body

He will always lean into it, taking comfort in the feeling of you holding him

Sometimes, this is all he needs, but other times he needs to talk about his emotions or issues in order to feel better

He will look into your eyes as he does so, their soft expression calming him down

When he is finished you will just smile and place a kiss to his lips

He will place a hand up to your face, running a finger across your cheekbone and thank you

Podrick Payne

Podrick Payne is not a man afraid of crying in front of you

Whenever he is stressed or feeling down, that is what mostly happens

To him, there is no more calming feeling in the world than having you hold him while he cries

He also likes when you just listen to him talk about whatever is bothering him

Your advise is always appreciated too, but he also just likes when you listen to his issues and don't try to solve them

When he feels comforted, his way of thanking you is through acts of service

This can include trying his best to make you a meal or running you a warm bath

You can make your own request for my Back-to-Writing Celebration

Masterlist | Game of Thrones Masterlist

#game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones preferences #oberyn martell x reader #jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jaime lannister x reader #eddard stark x reader #sandor clegane x reader #jorah mormont x reader #tyrion lannister x reader #got imagines #got x reader #got preferences #tessimagines

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tinfairies · 1 year

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PLEASE! reactions to sandor, theon, jorah, jon, tyrion, sansa and missandei for praising them during sex?

I just did the men for this one, my character limit is 4 but I couldn't choose so I did all of them

Sandor buries his face into the crook of his lovers neck. His face flushing at their words, his hips don't slow however. He opts to kiss at their delicate skin, trying to ignore the praise. It's not as though he doesn't like it, he just feels as though he doesn't deserve it. The praise keeps coming however, his lover keeps mumbling how good he feels and how amazing he is.

He sits up, bringing his lover with him. Sandor holds them close, their chests pressed together, then his lips find theirs. A desperate attempt to silence them as he keeps thrusting, bouncing them on his cock. Their arms wrap around him, as well as their legs. Clinging to him as he fucks them mercilessly. They make a note to praise him like that more often if this is how he'll react.

Theon is cocky about it, smirks and thrusts into his lover even harder. "You like that huh?" his hands wander and he gropes at every part of their body. Even if he doesn't fully believe that he's the best man out there, he makes his lover moan and squirm and cum. That's all that matters to him. Theon makes sure they'll remember him even if they leave him, he's the best cock they'll ever have.

His fingers pinch at his lovers nipples, he loves the way they squeal at the sensation. His cock plows into them, the wet sound of their slick and his hot precum is downright selacious. He wants to hear more about how good he feels, how hot he is. If he had it his way, he'd never leave his lovers bed.

Jorah can't help but get flustered when he hears the praise. His heart climbs up his throat as his lover moans and tells him how amazing he's doing. He leans down, his head resting against their chest. His thrusts don't slow down, in fact he angles his hips to go deeper. He opts to kiss their soft skin and hide his face from them. Jorah knows he shouldn't feel embarrassed, but how can someone so perfect love someone like him?

His hands roam their body, tracing down their sides and groping their hips. Pulling them against him and losing himself in their love. He believes that if he doesn't acknowledge the praise, he doesn't have to accept it. He can't accept it, not a man like him.

Jon doesn't register his lovers words at first. He's so lost in them, wanting to make them feel as good as possible. When they repeat themselves, it hits him. He can't help but pick up his pace, he wants to hear it again. His hips angling in such a way that his cock goes deeper than before. Again and again his lover praises him, calling him a good boy and moaning that he feels heavenly.

He doesn't believe their words, not really. But it doesn't stop Jon from drinking them down like a deserted man. He knows that outside of this bed he isn't good, though he tries. No, the only place he's truly good and thoroughly skilled is right here between his lovers legs.

Tyrion lives for praise, craves it and works hard for it. He knows he's good in bed, downright godly even. The words of his lover fuel his ego, he'd laugh and smile, asking if they want him to fuck them stupid. He loves to hear how good he's doing, how good his cock feels up inside them. He's thrusting his hips into theirs, hands roaming, he wants to hear more. Tyrion will keep going long after he and his lover cum, he doesn't want them to stop praising him.

He knows that when he pulls out, and they get cleaned up, that the praise ends. He doesn't want it to, perhaps that's why most of his free time is spent in brothels. Either way, he'll revel in his lovers words for as long as they can last.

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shadeysprings · 1 year

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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.

#jorah mormont #ser jorah mormont #jorah mormont x reader #navy and roo's sleepover #dark jorah mormont #dark!jorah mormont #dark fic #wilting blossom #iain glen characters #iain glen imagine #jorah mormont au #game of thrones au #shadeysprings fics

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jossilyn-embereth · 1 year

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Hello! If requests are open, may I please request some headcanons on what being married to Ser Jorah Mormont would be like?

Being Married to Jorah Mormont Would Inclcule

Having met him in Westeros long before his original marriage. The two of you were quite taken with one another, but you were already promised.

Not seeing one another again until you ended up at his wedding. Where he learns your marriage was called off.

Finding out years later what happened with Jorah and his family, and the crimes he committed, wishing you knew where he had gone, and accepting that you may never see him again.

Being promised to another man, but you decide to leave instead of be married off, so you run away and find a ship to take you to Essos, where you know you’ll never be found.

Making a good living on your own, seeing as the small fortune you had brought with you was able to support you while you got your bearings. You start your own business and set of shop in Mareen.

Eventually Daenerys makes her way there and frees the city. You are called upon for your services and are escorted to the castle.

There you see Jorah in the throne room, at the right hand of the Queen. As soon as your business is done he comes to see you. You catch up and walk around the city for hours.

You admit that you’ve missed him, and that the stories you hear about him have changed your opinion of him somewhat. He agrees that he did something horrible, and explains to you why he follows his new Queen, and the ways he is trying to be better.

In the coming weeks he comes to visit you constantly. You fall for him all over again, and can’t help but be slightly jealous of his protectiveness and loyalty to his Queen.

Confessing feelings for one another after a long night of talking by the water.

Becoming close with the rest of his new friends, especially Dani, who was ecstatic to find out Jorah had a significant other.

You asking for his hand in marriage, and when he seems surprised you make a joke that neither one of you are good at being single at the same time, so you should take the chance while you have it.

Having a small wedding with just your friends (seeing as neither of you have any family)

Moving to the palace to spend more time with him.

Romantic nights

Missing him during the fay when you both have work.

Coming to the agreement that children should be off the table for the time being, seeing as Jorah would soon be off to war at Daenerys side

Being completely heartbroken when Jorah’s treachery is revealed, wondering now if any of what he said about being better was true.

Letting him leave Mareen alone, and going to Daenerys for comfort, knowing she would understand your heartbreak.

Staying with her all night, comforting one another.

Nearly breaking when Jorah returns and reveals he has contacted Greyscale

Learning from Tyrion that he talked about you non-stop on the journey. Of how much he loved and missed you, and how he would get better so that he may return to you

Joining Daenerys for the journey to Westeros, with the intention of seeing your family’s support for her claim

Feeling both overjoyed and conflicted when Jorah arrives on Dragonstone, because although the man you love is alive and well and back in your arms, he still betrayed you and your Queen.

Eventually being convinced by Daenerys to give him another chance, after she tells you she has all but forgotten his past misdeeds. You take her words as permission to no longer care about his mistake.

Going to him that night and saying nothing, just holding him in your arms until the sun rises.

Telling one another all that had transpired while you had been apart

Him expressing a desire for a family once the war is over. You being happy to hear it, and agreeing wholeheartedly

Learning just before the journey to Winterfell that you are pregnant.

Telling Jorah, feeling nervous because it was still a bit soon to have the baby. The war might not be finished by the time you must leave his side, but he is only full of joy, and so you try not to worry

Being sent away from Winterfell for the battle against the dead, because he refuses to put you and your child at risk

Knowing from the moment you lay eyes on Daenerys that the father of your child is dead, and that the son or daughter you carry is all you will have left of him

#ser jorah #jorah mormont #jorah x reader #game of thrones #GOT #jorah x daenerys #daenerys targaryen #preference #imagines #would include

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maiamars · 2 years

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i'm

#NO ONE TALK TO ME HE FULL OF LOVE AS HE FULL DUMB OF LOVE #can yall imagine who great rhaenyra/harwin could have been #danaerys targaryen #jorah mormont #jorah x daenerys #jorleesi #got #got s2 #el got got to watch

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folkloresthings · 8 months

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if anyone wants to send some game of thrones requests….

#🪩 ﹐ rebecca chats!#game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #jon snow x reader #jaime lannister x reader #robb stark x reader #jorah mormont x reader

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gotpineapple · 2 years

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Under his mane (Part 6) // Tywin Lannister x Baratheon!Fem!Reader

Straightening his deep red leather coat, Tywin stared at his reflection. Today was the day he had never imagined would come again. He was to be married. For a leader he was, he was now lost.

Years back when Joanna had had her last breath, he had almost sworn to himself to never share the intimacy of marriage with anyone, ever again. How time flew, for it was over three decades ago.

Now he was marrying the Gentle Doe of the Stormlands. His own friend’s only daughter, whom had been almost gifted to him like a war trophy.

Sighing he looks at the pin of the hand on his chest and gently pulls it out of his coat. Today he was not the hand of the king, but he was the ruling Lord of Casterly Rock. Setting the pin down onto his desk, wanders to the window of his chamber.

Letting his mind wander to the woman he was going to marry, he stares at the glow of the sun. Y/n Baratheon had always been a introspective young lady from what he could remember. She had been the light of Storm’s end. Where Robert was brutish, Stannis was grim and Renly was vain, she was idealistic.

She smiles widely and led gently but if someone doubted her competence she stood her ground and slammed her walls on with harsh cold steel. She studied to feed her curiosity and she only spoke words when she knew she was competent to say them.

And her folly lied there. Her gentleness, insecurity and her need for perfection.

A remarkable lady, she still is.

Huffing gently Tywin straightens himself, takes one look down at his appearance and stalks to the doors of the room.

A remarkable wife

*****

“You can still run you know”, Tyrion jokes as they stand behind the doors of the Sept. “I mean, You have longer legs than I do, they’ll catch me first and you get more time to escape”

Y/n let’s out a small huff and smiles down at the short man. “Your father has sharp eye, fast reflexes and long legs even compared to men our age, he would catch me before noon”

Shrugging Tyrion takes a hold of her hands and swings them gently between the two. “Back when people whispered about you being thrown into the lions den, I never expected it to end like this”

Squeezing his hands a little tighter, Y/n bites her lips hard. “It’s not the end, Tyrion. If anything this gives me a chance of life. A chance to get away from this city”

“Do you remember when we built that book fort in Casterly Rock? And blew all the lights out from the library to get the right setting to read about the white walkers?”

The two smile at the memory. The two of them hadn’t been kids, hell they had both been in their twenties when that happened. “It’s a miracle we never got caught, do you remember how we used to write observations of creature personalities from all the books we read of the true and mythical creatures of Westeros?”

Tyrion’s eyes go wide. “You still have the scrap books?”

“ALL of them, even the ones of the Houses of Westeros”, Y/n smile is wide and happy as she leans down and confirms his question. There were so many of them but she could not bring herself to throw them away.

Her drawings and their writing filling tens of notebooks that barely held together after everything they clued in.

Their merriment is interrupted by the bells. Both of them go serious as they stand side by side and take a hold of each other’s arm. “This is it”

*****

The sept doors open and let in a stream of sunlight. The sun hits the bride’s Golden dress, as the people stare at the pair walking down the stairs. Tywin standing tall waiting for his bride to reach him.

Whispers fill the Sept as they stare at Tyrion giving away the bride, Joffrey’s poorly hidden cackles winning all the other sounds in Y/n ears.

Humiliation. A horrid, horrid feeling, and she wasn’t feeling it for herself, but for Tyrion. A part of her filling with guilt for making him do this.

She catches Sansa’s reassuring smile in the crowd and her smile turns authentic for a moment.

Soon the walk is over and they arrive at the steps. No words are passed as Y/n takes her place in front of Tywin staring into his cool green eyes. Their eyes do not part as they both study each other meticulously. In that moment, the fear and the guilt vanish from her gut. Lion does not concern himself with the opinions of a sheep.

*****

A man and wife. Sitting in their place at the top of the hall, at their own table both eating slowly.

“What is it about weddings that makes people so interested?”, Y/n asks quietly as they both look over to the people whispering and socializing. Some of them genuinely seeming to be having a merry time.

“It’s the beginning of something new, the possibility of sneaking into other people’s private business and the chance to higher their own status with sweet words and grand gifts. Vanity and weaseling, that’s most of it”, Tywin answers his baritone carrying the answer with ease in all the noise.

Huffing lightly in amusement, she turns to look at her new husband. “What an optimistic outlook. I think some people actually look at weddings as a dream of sort. The fantasy of seeing the romance of their lifetime makes them curious and giggly, not necessarily very socially pleasant but there is not always ill intent there”

“I must agree, take a look at my niece”, Tywin says and nods lightly towards his brother Kevan’s family, where his niece Janei was looking at them with starry eyes. “My brother informed me of her opinions. She seems to think it’s sweet to see ‘grumpy old Tywin’ with such a sweet woman. The naivety of children seems to carry on quite a while”

Y/n giggles at his phrasing and gives a smile to Janei. Young kids were so innocent. If only that could last. “There is nothing wrong in a little escape from all the horror”

“Once you accept the state of the world, the faster you’ll get used to it. Trying to escape it, only makes it harder”, the older man says sharply turning to look at the lady next to him with a grim look.

“Escaping in your head does not mean you lack information or acceptance. Some people need that contrast to be able to fight back the horrors with more energy and perseverance”, The Gentle doe argues back voice still low and soft.

For a moment they just look at each other, Tywin’s face grim while Y/n still remained smiling. After a while Tywin gives a slight nod.

“Let’s dance as man and wife before my grandson decides to try to steal you away”

*****

At the same time on the other side of the World.

”I see the way you look at the Targaryen girl”, Ser Barristan says to Jorah as they ride side by side towards Yunkai. ”I’ve seen that look on your face before ser Jorah”, he continues nonchalantly blowing a hair out of his face in the burning heat.

Jorah Mormont had always been a man who felt deeply. He cared truly and deeply, and he was not afraid to fight for things or people he cared about. But when it came to the women in his life, he felt shy. He felt undeserving.

He was but a regular knight, out of his prime. He knew he had no chances with women such as Daenerys. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from caring or dreaming for the impossible. Like he once had.

”It is my duty to care for her wellbeing and keep an eye on her, especially with the people are now trying to benefit from her”, Jorah answers keeping his face stoic. Their carefree conversations forgotten, both of them steering their horses a further away from the riding party.

”Was it your duty to name Lady Baratheon the Queen of Love and Beauty back in Lannisport?”, Ser Barristan asks sharply. He might have come to serve Daenerys Targaryen but Y/n Baratheon was someone he was willing to speak for. The way she treated people, her inferiors, spoke of her spirit, and that spirit was gentle and wise.

”That was over a decade ago Barristan”, the disowned heir of Bear island growls quietly. The sleepless nights he had had because of the Gentle Y/n Baratheon. The sound of her sweet laugh, the depth of her imagination and all the crazy ideals she spoke of during their strolls around the Red Keep. How he had longed to know the things she wrote in her notebooks. How he longed for her to trust him and share her soul with him as he laid his heart bare for her.

”Yet it seems to be an open wound”

Jorah sighs as Barristan’s comment, closing his eyes for a bare second as the other man continues. ”I saw her wither when you married Lynesse, it came as a surprise to all”, Barristan presses looking at Jorah pointedly.

Taking his other other hand away from the reins Jorah runs his hand over his face. ”And do you think that Stannis would have given me his only sister? An old bear from a small northern house? You make me laugh if you do”, Jorah argues quietly. There was no joy in his blue eyes as he stares down his past friend.

”Then laugh”, is the simple answer he gets as he bites down his lower lip.

Jorah shakes his head and stays quiet for a minute. The longing he had buried rising up all over. Finally he opens his mouth to whisper: ”Even the songs would have mocked it. They already do! Ever heard of the bear and the maiden fair? That’s just how it was”

“Great Lion and the maiden fair, sounds more reassuring doesn’t it, my friend?”

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#tywin lannister x reader #tywin imagine #house lannister #house baratheon #house stark #house martell #tyrion lannister #Sansa Stark #jorah mormont x reader #jorah mormont #Barristan Selmy

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mostfandomimagines · 1 year

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Imagine: Jorah finding you unharmed after a battle

#house mormont #jorah the andal #jorah mormont #game of thrones #house mormont imagines #jorah the andal imagines #jorah mormont imagines #game of thrones imagine #ser jorah mormont #ser jorah mormont imagines #not MY gif

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megsironthrone · 2 years

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A Chance?

Based on this request: May I request an imagine where the reader is Sir Jorah’s niece and is taught by him to be a warrior, she looks up to him but also has feelings for Danearys and feels guilty due to this. Perhaps she has a chance?

Here you are, lovely! Familiar characters are NOT mine!

Warnings: Fluff and slight angst

Pairings/Characters: Daenerys Targaryen x fem!reader, Uncle!Jorah Mormont

Your uncle had been more of a father to you growing up than your own father had ever been. So when you went against the grain and decided you wanted to learn sword skills, you asked Jorah to train you. He, of course, had agreed. You left Westeros with him when he was banished and traveled with him and Dothraki. You were by his side, learning and training, for years before you met the one person that could put a wedge between you.

Daenerys Targaryen was one of the most beautiful woman you'd ever met. She was also one of the strongest mentally. She worked so hard to make life better for those living as slaves in Meereen and the other cities she had visited on her travels West, toward Westeros. She was fierce and you had grown to love that about her. Suppers together, sitting on her council, and just spending time with her were the highlights of your day. You really liked her. More than you had anyone else before and you needed to tell someone.

During your training, you and your uncle had your best heart-to-heart conversations. You confided in him about everything you were thinking and he listened. He hardly shared his own feelings with you, but he was always willing to help you. So you absolutely told him how you felt about Daenerys when you discovered your feelings for her. His reaction was not what you had expected.

"Perhaps I'm not the best person to tell this secret to." His voice was tight and his stance was tense and rigid. Your brows drew together in confusion. He refused to meet your gaze, which was also strange. "Uncle?" No response so you tried again. Once more, nothing. You lowered your sword and thought for a moment. Why would he be like this? Unless…

"Uncle, are you-do you love her? Daenerys?" He still didn't answer, but you saw him glance at you from the corner of his eye. That was all the answer you needed. Guilt instantly bloomed in your heart. You hadn't meant to put yourself in competition with your own uncle for Daenerys' affections. You never knew that he loved her. "I-I didn't know. I'm sorry!" you apologized.

Jorah looked confused for a moment. "What for? You cannot help who you fall in love with, my dear niece." You gave him a sad smile. "No we can't, but you deserve love too. I think she would be a better match for you than for me, if that's what she wishes." You could feel your heart breaking as you spoke, but you meant it. Jorah needed love and if Daenerys could and would give him that, you would step aside.

Jorah sheathed his sword and pulled you into a hug. "I'm too old to chase fantasies, Y/N. If our queen is inclined to love either of us, I hope it is you. You have a bright future full of love and devotion that you deserve." You returned the hug and sighed. Your heart and mind were fighting one another. You felt like you couldn't betray your uncle by pursuing Daenerys (if she even wanted that), but you also couldn't betray your own blossoming love for the queen. So what could you do?

You finished up your training that day, your mind racing. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice someone approaching you in the dimly lit corridor. That is, until you practically ran into them. You managed to stop yourself by tripping over your own feet and falling. Right into Tyrion Lannister, knocking you both to the ground. You barely managed to shift again before you landed on top of him with your chest directly in his face.

"Forgive me, my lord," you said quietly before you noticed who else you had nearly run into. "Khaleesi," you greeted as your face heated up and you rose back to your feet. You could see her fighting back a soft smile. "Lady Y/N. I was hoping to catch you before you retired for the evening. I find myself in need of female companionship for supper. I grow tired of all the men." You laughed before apologizing to Tyrion again. He merely shrugged and then left.

"So, will you join me for supper?" Daenerys asked again and you bit your lip. Supper alone with Daenerys was a big deal to you. But could you? Your uncle wanted you to be happy, but you wanted him to be. Before you could get lost in your thoughts again, she continued, "I believe we have things to discuss…concerning you, your uncle, and myself." She gave you a knowing look. Oh. She knew. She'd heard or someone had told her. You watched her face for a moment. She didn't look angry or even a little annoyed. In fact, she looked rather happy.

"O-Of course, Khaleesi," you finally replied, "Should I fetch my uncle?" She shook her head. "No. I've spoken to him already. I wish to speak to you. Alone." You nodded and followed after her as she continued walking. "You can walk closer, Y/N." The familiarity of her words had your skin heating again. The soft way she spoke to you and the way she continued to glance at you had your heart thudding against your ribcage.

As you walked, you passed by your uncle who gave you a soft, sad smile. Clearly his conversation did not go well. Part of you hurt for him and worried that your conversation with Daenerys would end similarly. But a smaller, louder part of you couldn't help but hope you maybe had a chance.

You must have lagged behind because the next thing you knew, Daenerys reached over and grabbed your hand in hers to pull you gently along. She glanced back at you again and smiled. Did you have a chance with her at all? Could she love you or let you love her? "You do," she replied softly, making you jump. You hadn't meant to voice your thoughts out loud. "You have a chance, Y/N. After…after the khal, I didn't think I could love again," she explained, pulling you into her chambers, "I thought Drogo would be it for me but then he died and a part of me died with him. That is what I thought. But then, I met you and that part of my heart that I thought had died started beating again."

You couldn't speak. This was happening so quickly after you'd come to terms with the fact that you and Jorah loved the same woman. But she wanted you. She. Wanted. You. You had to fight against screaming out in joy when Daenerys closed the door behind you both and pulled you a little closer to her.

(a/n: I hope this is what you were looking for!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @line-viper @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @smalltownbigheart @igotmadskills @supernatural4life2022

#game of thrones #george r.r. martin #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys x reader #jorah mormont

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catofadifferentcolor · 7 months

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Terrible Fic Idea #66: Targaryen Restoration, but make it queer

The other day I had the crazy thought: what if Robert Baratheon tried to pass a male Jon Snow off as his second wife? So naturally today I had the complimentary thought: what if it was Jon's choice to present as female?

Or: What if Jon Snow was transgender?

Aka: The Visneya the Victorious Fic

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon - with one exception. It's not just that Jon Snow feels out of place in Winterfell, he feels out of place in his own skin. It gets worse the older he gets, until some point shortly before Robert Baratheon is set to come North Jon has the realization: she is a woman in a man's body, and the pretty features her half-siblings tease her about are the only parts of herself that she's comfortable with.

Jon (for she still thinks of herself by this name at this point), quickly realizes there's no place for her in the North. Perhaps if she ran away, adopted a new identity, and restricted herself to traditionally female activities she might get away with it - but, for all that Jon feels like a woman, she doesn't want to restrict herself to needlepoint. She wants to be a woman and to fight. Her role model in this is Queen Visneya.

In the chaos before King Robert's arrival, Jon runs away. Her escape is helped by the fact that the few people Ned is able to send after her do not know to look for a woman.

Jon manages to make her way to Pentos shortly before Daenerys is due to marry Khal Drogo. She's recognized by Jorah Mormont - not as a Stark, but as a Northerner recently come from Westeros, and presented to Dany during her wedding as a means of learning more about the country she is exiled from. Jon - now calling herself Jenny Snow - is very much an unwilling member of Dany's court, but has little alternative.

Canon proceeds apace, with the addition that many of the Dothraki are alternately amused and disgusted by a woman who wields a sword - though she gains the respect of certain factions for cutting the cock off any man found take a woman unwilling, free or slave.

Drogo dies. Dany becomes mother of dragons...

...and Rhaegal is absolutely taken with Jenny.

At this point some of the truth comes out - that Jenny is the bastard daughter of Ned Stark, now presumed to have a Dragonseed for a mother - but the fact Jenny was born Jon Snow remains remarkably hidden considering the Dothraki live largely out of doors with minimal privacy.

Canon continues to proceed apace, with Dany and Jenny becoming friends in a way they never quite managed while Drogo was alive. They do not become lovers until they finally sail for Dragonstone, and when King Robb - heavily scarred after surviving the Red Wedding - comes to plead for aid, he doesn't see his missing half-brother in Visneya Blackfyre (as Jenny Snow is now known as).

Visneya is sent with Rhaegal and some of their allies to defeat the Others, while Dany and the remainder of her army begins solidifying their position in Westeros.

With their forces divided, neither side is willing to take stupid risks, but with their fresh soldiers and supplies from Essos they can make several important, modest gains. Dany takes the islands of Blackwater Bay and the Narrow Sea - including the Stepstones - before moving onto the Stormlands and the rest of the Crownlands. Visneya, for her part, knows Northerners and how best to fight in Northern weather, and leads her forces to several great victories - including holding the Wall after the Night King tries to destroy it with magic.

Eventually the Night King is defeated - Visneya managing to destroy him in single battle after a fall from Rhaegal separates her from her forces - and she returns south with a portion of the Northern army to start retaking the Riverlands and the Vale.

By the time they turn their attentions to the Iron Islands, the rest of Westeros has already bent the knee and Dany has been crowned Queen of the Seven Six Kingdoms - but it's there Visneya earns her epithet. Not only does she free any salt wives she comes across, but she kills many locals for raping and reaving, and turns the castles of those who refuse to concede to slag, starting with the Greyjoys. It is in many ways a second Harrenhal, writ large over an entire kingdom.

Though pressured to make a political alliance, Dany never remarries. She claims her dragon Drogon as her second husband and continues her affair with Visneya behind closed doors, stating that a dragon is the only acceptable spouse for a dragon, and produces a handful of children with the Targaryen look over the years. One of their daughters goes on to marry Robb Stark's heir. (This goes on back and forth for a handful of generations until, a la James I, the closest male heir to the North is the King of the Westeros, and the kingdoms are reunited.)

As for Visneya, no one ever gets a clear answer who she is or where she comes from. It's largely believed that her mother was a descendant of Daemon Blackfyre who married an exiled Northerner, but no one really knows. Not even Visenya, who never learns she was born the only son of Rhaegar Targaryen and his second wife, Lyanna Stark.

Bonuses include: 1) a detailed exploration of gender roles - and gendered violence - in Westeros and Essos. This should include the many ways in which gender is a performance, and that toxic Medieval masculinity is just as damaging as female repression, and what it means to want to exist outside your ordained role; 2) a detailed exploration of sexuality in Westeros and Essos and what it means to defy - or conform to - those norms ; and 3) Robb and Arya being the only ones ever to learn Visneya Blackfyre's original identity, mostly through accident rather than intention.

And that's all I've got. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you ever do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #got #asoiaf #jon snow #jon snow is a targaryen #female jon snow #transgender characters #daenerys targeryan #jon x daenerys #house targaryen #targaryen restoration #warrior queen #the long night

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anthonycrowley · 2 months

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imagine being jorah mormont and after being exiled for doing slavery, selling out and subsequently falling in love with the last female targaryen heir, wondering around pentos for years and years, being sold into slavery, etc you finally return home and you’re like hey is my dad gonna give me my cool ancestral sword and someone has to be like errrrrr no sorry he gave it to the guy who exiled you’s bastard son. i’d lose my mind.

#he did deserve it to be clear. i just think it’s funny.#text #my post #mobi #asoiaf tag

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tessimagines · 1 year

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🎈Jorah Mormont

Jorah Mormont: Cuddles (Random Headcanon)

Jorah's favourite thing in the world is laying down in bed, your head on his chest and his arms wrapped tight around you. He loves this especially when you fall asleep against him. When this happens, Jorah runs his finger along your cheekbone, brushing away hairs from your face. In these moments, he also likes to whisper "I love you" in your ear, or recount his thoughts when he saw you for the first time.

Sometimes, though, he isn't aware that your actually awake, listening tentatively to every single word.

Request your own random headcanon as part of my Back-to-Writing Celebration

Masterlist | Game of Thrones Masterlist

#game of thrones imagines #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones headcanons #jorah mormont imagines #jorah mormont x reader #jorah mormont headcanons #got imagines #got x reader #got headcanons #game of thrones headcanon #jorah mormont headcanon #got headcanon

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shadeysprings · 1 year

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Steep Price

— Jorah Mormont x F!Reader

Summary: The night you pick your boyfriend up from work is the night when your entire life comes crashing down.

Warnings: noncon, fingers at play, physical violence, public smut, character death & kidnapping. There may be more but do take caution as this is a dark fic.

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's Week One: I Spy Challenge. The word I chose to incorporate here is diamond necklace with the theme of addiction and setting of mafia. It has been a while since I wrote Dark Jorah so here we are. Also, a big shout out to @sgt-seabass for giving me the idea of the fic as well as allowing me to incorporate her work, Clockwork, into this fic (kindly check that out) and also to my beta, @mochie85. You both are rockstars!

Your feedback is highly appreciated and encouraged. Reblogs would be really amazing. Enjoy! ❤️

The chime of the bell is music to your ears as it resounds through the air upon opening the doors of the quaint bookshop. Your nose, kissed by the scent of the pages, wrapping you in a cocoon of comfort and warmth, a huge contrast to the cold rain that continues to fall down from the evening sky.

The place is empty, after giving it a quick observation while folding your umbrella close and stowing it in the stand. You hear your name being called from further in the front room, a smile forming on your lips as you make your way to the counter, seeing your boyfriend, Doug, place down a box of books on the ground and stalk over to you.

His lips immediately find yours, your arms wrapping around his neck. Dark, blond locks fall over his forehead when he pulls away only to nuzzle his nose against yours in greeting.

“You’re here early.” He says against your lips and you let out a giggle as he showers your face with a few butterfly kisses, his fuzzy beard tickling your cheeks. “I won’t be off for another thirty minutes.”

“I know.” You mumble, your hands sliding down to press against his firm chest, the cotton of his navy shirt smooth to the touch. “And you know I don’t mind waiting. The books are very much pleasant company.” He smiles at your words and you notice how his eyes move down to your neck.

“You’re wearing it.” He breathes, his hand reaching up to caress the small diamond pendant that hangs by a silver chain, his birthday present to you.

“Of course, I am.” You wrap your fingers around his wrist while his thumb caresses the crystal surface. “I’d wear everything you give me.” The slight slant on his lips is enough for you to know what he’s thinking, that of the 3 years you’ve been together, the necklace was the first gift he’s ever given you.

You’ve told him you didn’t need extravagant things, that his love was enough to sustain the emotional connection you have together. But he was insistent, promising the year before he gave you the diamond necklace that he would make it up to you. And knowing Doug, he is nothing but persistent in whatever he puts his mind to—a trait you deeply appreciate.

“Douglas—” He blinks when you call his attention, curious, blue eyes meeting yours. “Speaking of books, did it arrive today?” You beam.

“Oh!” It’s as if your question snaps him out of a trance, the smile returning to his face. He takes your hand and leads you to the back of the counter with excitement. “Good thing you reminded me.” He hums as he opens the door of the stock room.

You feel giddy as your feet follow him willingly, each step filled with anticipation as he leads you further inside. A multitude of boxes greet you, each one stacked neatly against the wall and into shelves, the titles of the novels hidden within painted on the sides. And it’s when he stops that you recognize the words staring back at you, your hand moving on its own accord to run against the cardboard surface—Clockwork.

“They came in this morning and are scheduled to be sold tomorrow.” He says as he grabs a box cutter from his back pocket and cuts open the lid. He takes a book from inside before carefully sliding it between your palms.

Your eyes glisten as you stare down at the cover, the silver pocket watch sitting proudly above the black background and you can’t help but run your fingers against the embossed image. You turn the cover open and read the brief summary, fingertips tingling with exhilaration as you’re tempted to flip a page and begin reading the first chapter.

But you hesitate, as much as you want to indulge yourself in the novel, you wouldn’t want to ruin a brand new copy and eventually not have it sold to potential customers.

“Why aren’t you reading? Don’t you like it?” Doug asks, and you look up at him, seeing the curiosity swimming in his eyes.

“I do—it’s just, I don’t want to ruin the book.” You pout and place the copy back in the box only for him to take it out again.

“I can keep this copy and buy it later at a discount.” He volunteers, pressing the hardbound back into your hands before closing up the box. “But you’ll have to wait after two weeks. I get my paycheck then.”

“I appreciate the gesture, babe, but you know we can’t.”

You and Doug have been planning on buying a house since last year and have decided to save every penny you earned towards that goal. The necklace was indeed a surprise—a bookshop associate isn’t paid much to afford such things—but he promised that it didn’t cost him more than what he could afford.

Still, you decided that it would be the last of the luxury you both spent on, and a book this big in the market, as tempting as it is, isn’t worth losing an opportunity to set aside for something much bigger in the future.

“I could probably download an ebook by the end of the month.” You say with a smile, an attempt to comfort him. “I’m not in a hurry to grab a copy.”

“Knowing you and your love for these novels?” He scoffs, the sound more teasing than insulting. “Or what about I keep the copy and you come over an hour before closing so you can read it?” He offers, a wide grin chiseled on his face. “That way, even if you don’t have a copy, you’re still keeping up with the story.”

“You think Lorraine won’t mind?”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He chuckles, taking your arms and folding them over the book, the hardcover pressing against your chest. “Go on. Settle in a corner and read it. You’ll probably get to chapter three before I finish closing up.”

“But—”

“Go on.” He urges with a laugh, ushering you out of the stock room before closing the door behind him. “I’ll meet you at your table when I’m done, okay? And you can tell me how much you like the book after.” It’s all he says before pressing a kiss on the top of your head and leaving you by the counter to resume his task.

You stare at the book in your arms, smiling as you admire the cover once more. He does have a point. If you can’t have a copy yet, what’s wrong with reading one in the store? It’s not like you’re stealing it. No harm, no foul.

The excitement returns in full force and you immediately scurry to your favorite table in the shop, your breathing heavy as you take a seat and settle the novel atop the wooden surface. Taking a deep breath, you flip the book to the first chapter and begin reading the text; your mind immediately building the scene, slipping your feet in the shoes of the protagonist, and imagining yourself walking down a pathway with the summer sun beating down on your neck.

You feel your heart race as each scene shapes the story, the first several pages leaving you breathless and wanting, a slave to the author and her captivating words.

The chime of the bell briefly takes your attention but you’re immediately sucked back into the world at the edge of your fingertips. Your blood is filled with adrenaline as the story reaches a peak you didn’t expect, digesting each paragraph, the anticipation of what’s to come next washing over you in a huge wave each time you turn the page.

A loud groan then echoes from the back of the shop and you stop mid-read, a sudden sense of trepidation crawling up your spine. You think it was just Doug running the cart to return the books to their proper place but something tells you it's so much more that you close the book with a snap and stand from your seat, slowly walking to where you heard the sound to check on it.

“Babe? You okay back there?” You call, peeking from the shelves. The lack of response renders you nervous for it’s unusual for him not to ease your worry. “Doug?” You try again, your steps slow and measured as you peer at another aisle then another yet seeing him gone.

You make your way to the reading nook, the place volunteers would read to the children on Wednesdays, expecting to see him tidying up the space. And you do see him, seated in one of the smaller chairs, a sigh of relief escaping your lips before deciding to make your way towards him.

But your feet falter and a silent gasp leaves your lips when a fist meets his face, knocking him to the ground. Your eyes widen in shock when he lays on his side, coughing violently, blood sputtering out of his mouth and staining the floor.

“Where are my diamonds, thief?” A gruff voice echoes through the open space, the face of the stranger blocked by the shelves.

“I already told you—” Doug groans as he tries to push himself off the floor. “I don’t have—”

But a foot lands on his abdomen, kicking him harshly onto his back before he can even finish talking. You see the man draws near him, a black button-up hidden underneath a black coat. His ginger, blond curls are messy from the effort he’s exerted to hurting the man you love.

He lands another kick then another and you grit your teeth in anger as the sound of Doug’s pained groans fills your ears.

The grip on the book tightens and you take a deep breath before shouting loudly for him to stop, barreling toward your boyfriend’s assailant with the hardbound raised over your head with the intention of sending back a harsh blow. But someone catches you by the waist, pinning your arms to your sides which makes you drop the book at your feet.

“Leave him alone!” You yell as you thrash against the solid wall of chest behind you, kicking your legs violently and squirming to be released. “Let me go, you bastard! What the fuck do you want from us?!” You don’t relent, groaning as you try to escape but pain soon radiates at your sides when your captor tightens their grip around you. “Who are they, Doug?! What do they want?!”

You stop moving when you see the man clad in a black suit staring at you then at your boyfriend before picking the novel from the ground. His fingers kiss the tip of his tongue as he begins flipping through the pages with a curious hum.

“Who is she, Douglas?” He asks without looking up.

“She—she’s no one.” Doug coughs, his arm wiping the blood dripping from his lips as he struggles to get up.

The ginger-blond stranger waves his hand in nonchalance when suddenly, another stands behind Doug, grabbing him by his arm to pull him up on his knees. Fear immediately runs up your spin when you hear the click of a gun, Doug stays still on the ground as the barrel of the weapon his pressed to the back of his head.

“I will try again.” The man says as he licks his fingers once more, flipping another page. “Who is she and what is she doing here?” He intones, the tension in the air thickening. “She can’t possibly be a customer. Your store has been closed for some time now.” The sound of the book snapping shut makes your heart jump, swallowing thickly as you raise your chin when the edge is pressed high against your neck.

“I said she’s no one.” Doug snarls, his mouth painted crimson as he turns to face you. “Just let her go, Mormont. She has nothing to do with this.”

The man—Mormont—seems to consider his words.

“Well, if she’s no one, you wouldn’t mind if we shut her up then,” Mormont says with a wicked grin and nodding in your direction. Out of the blue, you feel cold metal press on your temple, whimpering as tears begin rolling down your face. “We wouldn’t want any witnesses to our little exchange, now do we, Douglas?”

“Jorah,” Someone calls and Mormont turns to look over his shoulder. “The necklace. On the girl.”

Mormont’s eyes snap back to you, dark oceanic orbs meeting yours that slowly run down to the base of your neck. Your throat bobs when you feel his rough fingers brush against your skin, his eyes narrowing then widening as if recognizing the jewel that sits at the base of your neck. The book that holds your chin up is soon replaced by his hand.

“I’m guessing you like mafia novels, huh, sweetheart?” Still staring at the necklace, he holds up the novel for you to see, the cover staring back at you. But you keep your mouth shut, too afraid to even utter a sound. “Well, you’re in one right now and I’m sure you’re fairly familiar with how things like these go, am I right?” His eyes find yours, seeing malice laced into his irises. The gun at your temple is removed and he gives the book to the man that’s held you captive.

Slowly, he circles you like a predator would its prey, your chest heaving and your back going rigid when you sense him stop behind you. His hand finds purchase around your neck, your chin moving upward upon instinct. He tightens his hold and you wince, your hand reaching up to take hold of his wrist.

“I ask you a question and you answer. Am I understood?” He whispers, feeling crowded as he bends over you, his other hand resting tauntingly against your hip. “Now, be a good girl and tell me where you got the necklace, darling.”

You don’t respond, your eyes drifting to Doug as you try to seek him for answers. Who are they? What do they want? Questions lingering in your head. But his face gives nothing away, fingers flexing against his thighs and curling into fists as he watches the display before him.

Mormont tuts at your silence, crying in silence as his hand moves to the front of your jeans, his fingers tapping along the button and the fly, threatening to slide past the barrier.

“Staying quiet won’t do you any good, darling.” He groans against your ear, his beard prickling your skin when he presses his face against your temple. “Now, I’ll ask again.” His hot breath scalds your cheek and you cry out when he suddenly slips his hand through your pants and panties, rough fingers pushing down further to cup your sex. You grit your teeth and grab tight on his wrist, trying to pull his hand out when he presses his thumb against your clit. “Where did you get the necklace?”

You open your mouth to speak, to give him the answer he seeks for him to stop. But no words come out, only a silent scream when he slips a digit past your folds, his foot pushing yours aside to spread your legs wide.

“Stop it! Don’t touch her!” Doug shouts from where he kneels and tries to get up. “She knows nothing!” But the man behind him kicks him on the back, causing him to fall once more.

“I thought she was no one, Douglas?” Mormont mocks as he fucks you with his finger, your chest heaving as your stomach rolls in disgust with the unwanted pleasure that burns within your core. Your pussy clamps down on his digits when he slips another finger, stretching you wide. “Why does she have my diamond, Dougie?” He spits and you gasp sharply when he adds a third, your back arching against his solid chest as his thumb presses roughly against your clit, his hand twisting in your pants, turning in a new angle to fuck you faster with his fingers.

Your breathing grows heavy and you feel the room closing in on you as your toes curl from his touch. You cry in desperation, vision blurry as you turn into a babbling mess, begging for him to stop. But he’s impervious to your pleas, your spine tingling and your face heating with shame as your cunt slickens with every thrust.

“S-stop—” You whimper, both hands grabbing on his wrist as you once more try to pull free from his cruelty. “P-please—I’ll talk! I’ll—” The words come out garbled, clogging your throat as moans rush out from your lips.

“I gave it to her!” Doug shouts and Mormont’s hand stills from your cunt, the arousal slipping from your blood. “Please—just stop.” He sobs while walking towards you on his knees. “I stole the diamonds, Jorah. I stole them and gave her a piece as a present.” The confession that drips from his lips is a stab to your heart, that he’s crossed such dangerous men and all for a piece of rock.

Mormont’s silence is deadly and you feel his chest rumble against your back as he lets out a deep breath. Then all at once, his hold on your neck tightens and you shout in terror when his fingers begin to move once again, choking as he digs his fingers into your throat, the flame deep in your belly flickering back to life.

“You take my things, I’ll take yours!” He snarls and two men grab hold of Doug’s arms when he lunges at you, holding him back as he struggles to set himself free.

Your body shakes as his fingers continue to pull you closer to the edge.

“No! You bastard!” Doug shouts but Mormont simply laughs, the sinister sound blaring in your eyes.

“Look at him, darling. Look at that pathetic excuse of a man.” He commands yet you defy him, closing your eyes as you refuse to face your boyfriend in humiliation. But his grip on your neck tightens further and you open your eyes, Mormont’s hand framing your jaw as he forces you to look Doug in the eyes. “Look at him! I want him to see you come because of me. I want him to bare witness to what his stupidity has led you into.”

Tears flow once more from your eyes as you face him. His eyes are full of anger yet his face sullen in defeat as he’s left helpless to defend you. Your eyes then shut tight as your spine curves and your head rests against Mormont’s shoulder, your fingers digging hard into his sleeve when your body shakes, your cunt fluttering around his digits when you come hard on his hand.

He continues to thrust in you, fingers sliding easily against your sopping walls. A sigh then escapes you when he pulls his hand away, smearing your juices over your abdomen and then slipping them into his mouth.

“Fuck—you taste like honey.” Mormont growls, your body limp against his, breathing heavy, that you don’t even bother to pull away when he trails kisses from your cheek and down to your clothed shoulder. “No wonder that loser stole from me. I’d shower diamonds at your feet if I get to fuck such a sweet cunt.” The remark makes your stomach turn in disgust, shame encapsulating you that you allowed this man to toy with you as he pleased.

“Jorah—” The man from earlier calls. “You had your fun. We have to go.”

Mormont sighs. “Very well.” Your eyes spring open when you hear a loud thud, seeing Doug on the ground once again, holding himself up with his hands and knees. “Kill him.”

“No!” You pull away from Mormont’s hold but he lifts you up in his arms effortlessly, the strength surging back in your veins as you thrash against him. “Doug! Doug!” You cry as you're taken to the doorway of the library. “Please! Don’t kill him! Please—” You sob as you beat against his arm.

The cold air sears your skin as you’re pushed out of the bookshop, the rain coming down harder than before and lighting painting the sky followed by the crash of thunder. You continue to fight, to retch yourself free from your captors, and go back inside to try and save your love. But Mormont shoves you roughly into the awaiting vehicle, your back hitting the other side as you slide against the leather seat.

Nonetheless, you waste no time. You jiggle on the handle harshly, trying to pull the lock out of its place, but your fingers stiffen and your head snaps back to the shop when a gunshot rings from the inside, your heart stopping as the door shuts close after Mormont takes his seat, the car driving off into the evening storm.

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.

#jorah mormont #ser jorah mormont #jorah mormont x reader #dark jorah mormont #dark!jorah mormont #dark fic #steep price #iain glen characters #iain glen imagine #jorah mormont au #game of thrones au #shadeyspring fics #navy and roo's sleepover

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random-imagines-blog · 1 year

Text

Game of Thrones / House of the Dragon Masterlist.

In an attempt to organize the blog and keep everything in order, masterlists are being made to join together into a masterlist of masterlists to make it easier for those on mobile. Thanks for being patient!

Any smut will be tagged with ⭐

Robb Stark

Oneshots

Just Got Home

Drunk on Shadows

Imagines

Imagine scaring Robb Stark with your own White Walker mask.

Imagine modern day Robb Stark taking you to the movies to see a horror film, reluctantly.

Imagine surprising Robb Stark with your strong sense of strategy.

Jon Snow

Oneshots

Holy Rivers ⭐

Bare My Soul

The City is Far From Here

Imagines

Imagine Jon Snow sending Ghost to your farm, just so he can come see you.

Imagine Jon Snow being falsely told that you’re dead.

Imagine Sansa Stark and Jon Snow staying up with you after a nightmare.

Imagine trying to be happy with Jon before the world ends.

Imagine Jon Snow being scared for your safety.

Imagine Jon Snow is trying to set up a camp for the two of you in the cold.

Arya Stark

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being Arya’s twin brother, and losing an eye during the Long Night.

Imagine growing up with Arya always spying on you to make sure you’re alright.

Imagine taking Arya Stark under your wing.

Imagine being one of the sole people that Arya Stark trusts.

Imagine Arya Stark going after someone who had threatened you.

Sansa Stark

Oneshots

Seeing Stars

Imagines

Imagine Sansa Stark and Jon Snow staying up with you after a nightmare.

Imagine impulsively hugging Sansa despite people watching.

Imagine bringing Sansa Stark on a sea voyage with you.

Imagine having an intimate moment with Sansa Stark and knowing it could never happen again.

Imagine getting drunk with Sansa.

Imaging sewing with Sansa Stark to help keep her busy.

Ned Stark

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being a Lannister and making a game of trying to make Ned Stark blush.

Jaime Lannister

Oneshots

The Ask and the Answer ⭐

Castle in the Sky ⭐

Imagines

Imagine having a secret child with Jaime Lannister.

Imagine walking into a pub and seeing a drunk Jaime Lannister.

Imagine Jaime Lannister seeing a portrait of you and thinking you’re the most beautiful woman in the nine realms.

Imagine being imprisoned with Jaime Lannister.

Imagine trying to figure out whether or not to spare Jaime Lannister and him telling you that he is in your debt.

Tyrion Lannister

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Tyrion Lannister coming to realize that your wit may be better than his.

Imagine the first time you tell Tyrion you love him.

Imagine having a drink with Tyrion Lannister.

Imagine going to Tyrion for aid in defeating someone who had hurt you.

Imagine being Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand’s paramour, and flirting with Tyrion Lannister.

Imagine being in an arranged marriage to Tyrion but you convince him that you truly love him & cuddling.

Joffrey Baratheon

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Joffrey having to get used to you having pets, but putting up with it because he loves you.

Imagine being one of the few women who knows how to handle a crossbow, and showing Joffrey how it works.

Daenerys Targaryen

Oneshots

The Face of God

Imagines

Imagine Daenerys coming home to you.

Imagine killing an enemy for Daenerys to try to earn her favor.

Imagine being betrothed to Viserys Targaryen, but you spend more time with Daenerys making fun of him.

Imagine Daenerys Targaryen introducing you to her dragons.

Jorah Mormont

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being Jorah’s first love, and him finding you at Littlefinger’s Brothel.

Imagine Jorah Mormont keeping you warm in Winterfell.

Imagine Jorah seeing the results of teaching you how to fight.

Khal Drogo

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being a merchant’s son who seduces a passing Dothraki, not realising until your father catches you in bed together that it’s Khal Drogo.

Imagine being the wife of a rival Khal, but Drogo claims you as his.

Imagine being a male dancer at a Dothraki Celebration and Khal Drogo seducing you into his bed.

Imagine being worried about Khal Drogo while he’s out on a hunt.

Ramsay Bolton

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being the one to serve Ramsay Bolton his dinner.

Imagine spending a weekend with Ramsay Bolton.

Roose Bolton

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being in a pitch black castle with Roose Bolton.

Imagine Roose Bolton being unable to take his eyes off of you.

Tormund Giantsbane

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being a lone wildling, and Tormund coming across your camp.

Gendry Waters

Oneshots

Imagines

Beric Dondarrion

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Beric knowing that he’s on his last life, and wants to spend it with you.

Imagine being one of the reasons why eternity is worth living through for Beric Dondarrion.

Sandor Clegane

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Sandor bursting into your room while you are undressing.

Ser Davos

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine joining Ser Davos on his small quests to help people.

Imagine finding a rare flower in the wilderness and gifting it to Ser Davos.

Imagine helping to stitch Ser Davos after the war, and him trying to find you to repay you.

Tywin Lannister

Oneshots

Crimson and Gold

Imagines

Imagine Tywin Lannister finding solace in your garden.

Imagine Tywin Lannister being impressed by your fighting gift, and making you his personal bodyguard.

Podrick Payne

Oneshots

Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me

Imagines

Imagine being a Baratheon princess, and falling hard for Podrick.

Imagine being a bit of a rulebreaker, and Podrick finding you fascinating.

Imagine Podrick Payne coming clean about lying to you.

Brienne of Tarth

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Brienne of Tarth seeing your potential and wanting to assist you in achieving it.

Sam Tarly

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Samwell Tarly sneaking you into the library to read to your hearts content.

Imagine being a refugee from King’s Landing, and Samwell letting you stay in his home.

Theon Greyjoy

Oneshots

Imagines

Oberyn Martell

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Oberyn being proud of how you follow his every order.

Imagine Oberyn admitting to you that he’s going to fight The Mountain.

Imagine Oberyn loving it when you’re dominant.

Yara Greyjoy

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Yara Greyjoy breaking you out of the dungeons when she goes to save her brother.

Imagine hating your home so Yara takes you away.

Imagine telling horror tales with Yara Greyjoy.

Bronn

Oneshots

Imagines

Daario Naharis

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine constantly making fun of Daario for his sexual prowess.

Jaqen H’Ghar

Oneshots

Poison Oak

Imagines

Rhaenys Targaryen

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being a Hightower, and being romantically involved with both Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen.

Corlys Velaryon

Oneshos

Imagines

Imagine being a Hightower, and being romantically involved with both Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen.

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