#ser jorah mormont

[springdandelixn]

Show Me Love

—Jorah x F!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: Jorah ends up failing his quest to search for the princess and take her back to the feast in the Red Keep.

Warnings: 18+ content, oral (m receiving), Jorah is a whore haha

A/N: Because today is Thursday, I’ve decided to make a THIRSTY drabble for our favorite simp boii.

Even if this is simply a drabble, your likes and comments are highly appreciated. Tell me what you think of the story for it helps me a lot as a writer. Your reblogs will help this story flourish further. And as always, I hope you guys enjoy! ♥️

Jorah’s hand clamps tighter on your shoulder, his head thrown back in pure bliss on the back of the chair and muscles tensing when you take him into your mouth once more. Your fingers dig into the flesh of his bare thigh while the other presses down against his abdomen which ripples in desire.

He never imagined that his search for you around the Red Keep would end up with him groaning in pleasure as you sucked down hard on his cock. He only thought about taking you back to the feast where the guests from the noble houses were wanting your attention, yet here he was, the Lord Commander of the Queensguard, shrouded in ecstasy, chest heaving as he felt a tug at the pit of his stomach.

“Princess—” He groans, but the words he wanted to say drown in his throat, whispering your name instead in the humid air that slowly fills his chambers.

Your mouth pulls back, only keeping the tip of his cock within when a garbled moan escapes his lips upon feeling you suck harder on its head. His cock stiffens, throbbing against your lips and he reaches down to wrap his fingers around the base to stop his release.

“Princess, please—” He begs.

But you don't relent. Your hand pries away his own before replacing it with your deft fingers, stroking his shaft while your tongue swirls and licks on the tip, spreading the saltiness on the pad of your tongue, humming at the taste of him.

He chokes when he tries to speak, tries to protest that a princess should not take a man’s seed in her mouth but all sense of decency drifts from his head when pleasure rolls through his body, his spine, shivering as he feels the tug in his stomach once more.

His hand reaches over to cup the base of your head, eyes blowing wide in lust as he pulls you back down on his cock, having you choke and gag around him when he hits the back of your throat. He grows feral, hungry even when your eyes shoot up to meet his. Relishing the look you give him as he urges you to take more of him, to suck on his cock like your life depended on it. His other hand reaches to cup the side of your face as he moves to thrust his hips at a faster pace.

“You look so beautiful with your lips around me.” He growls and he watches as your eyes shine with unshed tears, chanting your name in whispers when you plant your hands against his thighs and meet him halfway, your muffled moans filling his ears and adding to the pleasure that builds within.

“You’re so perfect, princess—” He praises, throwing his head back once more when you pick up your pace, feeling your saliva pool against his inner thighs. His hand grabs a handful of your hair when he feels himself reaching his limit. Releasing an animalistic growl, he pushes you down, burying his cock fully into your mouth and spilling his seeds down your throat.

He curses lowly and pants heavily, his chest heaving as he slowly climbs down from his high. Another moan escapes him when you pull away from his cock with a thick ‘pop’ after swallowing his essence, a light giggle erupting from you before taking him fully once more, milking him dry.

“Ser Jorah?”

Panic surges in him when he hears the voice of his queen from beyond the door, quickly leaning over to you on the ground, pulling himself free from your mouth and pressing a finger to your lips, signaling to be silent.

“Are you alright, Ser?” Daenerys asks once more. “Why did you leave the feast in haste?”

He clears his throat before he speaks. “I’m quite fine, your grace. I’ve just not been feeling well and I wanted to rest before it turns into anything serious.”

His eyes dart to you when you roll your eyes at him, a playful smile gracing your lips when you move to straddle his lap.

“Liar.” You whisper against his ear and it takes all of his strength to stop himself from kissing the smug away from your lips.

“Shall I call for the maester?” Daenerys asks.

“You need not worry, your grace. I’m sure sleep will do me some g—good.” He stops the groan from escaping him, his hands grabbing tightly on your hips to stop you from rubbing your clothed cunt against his exposed length.

“Good night, your grace.” He says in finality before wrapping his arms around you, your legs locking around his waist, lifting you as he stands from his seat, and walking towards the door to make sure it's locked from within.

“What if my sister comes back and asks for your help to look for me, Lord Commander Mormont?” You ask teasingly, rubbing a finger against the scruff of his beard, a grin on your lips, making Jorah groan as he walks you to his bed. You giggle when he lays you down on the feathered mattress.

“Then pray to the seven that she doesn’t, my love, for I plan to keep you here til the morrow.” He smirks as he runs his hand up your thigh, pushing up the skirt of your dress before leaning down to claim your lips with his.

#Jorah Mormont #Ser Jorah Mormont #Jorah x Reader #Jorah x Female Reader #Jorah Fanfiction #Jorah Fanfic #jorah mormont x reader #jorah mormont x female reader #smut fic #jorah mormont au #jorah au #game of thrones au #game of thrones #coconut bun stories

[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.

#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

[heike-251]

Daenerys: "We should be better in saying farewell by now."

Ser Jorah Mormont: "Your Graze, I ..."

#game of thrones #rewatching #best show ever #daenerys and jorah #ser jorah mormont #iain glen #love this man #have a huge crush on him #GoT Season 7

[ars0nistpixie]

jorah mormont you're a disgusting man.

#asoiaf #jorah mormont #ser jorah mormont #daenerys targaryen #how dare he #i fucking hate this

[get-cersie-an-elephant]

In the scene where Daenerys kills the slave masters and frees the unsullied, you can see Jorah protecting Missandai

#and grandpa Joe from Derry girls is there #Game of Thrones #Game of Thrones season 3 #Game of Thrones Jorah #ser jorah mormont #jorah mormont #Game of Thrones barristen #Game of Thrones missandai #missandei #game of thrones daenerys #daenerys targeryan #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire

[clarasimone]

SER JORAH MORMONT

#iain glen #ser jorah mormont #got merch

[rileypotter17]

New chapter alert!

#dany x jorah #ser jorah mormont #jorah mormont #jorah x daenerys #jorah x dany #jorleesi #ao3fic #regency #brotp Jorah and Jaime #Margaery is snarky

[divinedemons]

I‘m watching game of thrones for the first time and I’m a bitch for Ser Davos and Ser Jorah

I mean look at them my little babies they deserve the world

#got #ser davos #ser jorah mormont #ser davos seaworth #ser jorah #headcanon that these two bitches met on a pirate ship back in their youth

[stelly38]

My favorite scene so far in Game of Thrones is where they make Ser Jorah cosplay as smoked brisket. It's obvious that that these idiots have never had barbeque, because the bark is the best part. Throwing good bark out is punishable by ostracization in my neck of the woods.

#game of thrones #period fantasy #iain glen #barbeque #brisket #john bradley #period drama #ser jorah mormont #samwell tarly

[springdandelixn]

Can I request something with Jorah putting a fem reader over his shoulder?? That’s literally it tbh I’m just a whore for that stuff 💀

Modern Knight

Summary: Jorah saves you from the crowd.

Warnings: age difference (reader is legal but Jorah is twice her age), size kink, claustrophobia but otherwise, all fluff.

Characters: Jorah Mormont x Short!F!Reader (Modern AU)

A/N: It has been a VERY long time since I wrote any fluff but this request really got to me along with me and my sister having our own LANY moment at the dog park.

A drabble this may be, your feedback is highly appreciated. Reblogs would be very much welcome. And of course, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ To the requestor, whoever you are, thank you.

“We have to hurry up, bubba bear!” You urge as you tug on Jorah’s hand, your feet almost sprinting as you go with the other concert attendees making their way to the front. “We might not get a good spot!”

“Be careful, cub! Slow down.” Jorah admonishes, his voice full of annoyance. “You might get lost.”

“I won’t if you hurry up!” You groan, dragging the tall and bulky man from behind you. 

You’re halfway to the stage when the lights suddenly dim down, and screams of the crowd surround you as the name of the band flashes on the giant luminescent backdrop on stage. Excitement rolls through your veins when you see the silhouette of the members, your eyes growing wide in amazement when an array of fireworks shoot up in the air, the night sky glowing in hues of purple, green, and red.

The opening song starts to play and you scream at the top of your lungs, the hairs on your body standing as a chill runs through your veins. 

You’ve been a fan of the band for years and have waited for them to tour your city. To witness them play your favorite songs and their best hits live and you’re finally here, with the man you’ve dedicated most of the songs to. The feeling so surreal as they begin to serenade the audience. 

You look up at your side and giggle at the unamused expression plastered on your boyfriend’s face. His golden hair and scruffy beard shining underneath the lights from the stage. His arms are crossed over his chest, the band shirt you made him wear straining from his flexed bicep. The song then reaches its peak, the audience singing the lyrics by heart and you reach up to wrap your arm around his, resting your head against his upper arm. 

Jorah never wanted to go to the concert, expressing his disdain along with a lecture that people of his age no longer enjoy such loud music or attending chaotic events. But he tagged along nonetheless, telling you that he’s only doing so because he didn’t want your money to go to waste after giving him an update that you failed to sell his ticket. Though you never really put it up for grabs knowing full well that he couldn’t resist you. 

The next song plays and you jump into exhilaration, the melody being all too familiar from the many times you played it on your way to work and sang it shamelessly in the shower. Your eyes widen when you see the lead singer reaching out to the audience, jealousy painting you green when his hand touches those of the ones at the very front. 

“I’m going closer!” You shout to Jorah, not waiting for his response before pulling away from him and pushing through the crowd to find a spot closer to the stage. 

The smile on your face broadens as the figure of the singer grows larger, your feet unrelenting on their purpose to get closer. But a wave of claustrophobia hits you as the crowd begins pushing against each other, pinning you between two tall figures as you continue to march forward. 

The excitement from early completely diminishes and is replaced with fear, your breathing labored as you look around constantly for a way to wedge yourself away from the human wall. You feel your lungs grow tight, your arms straining as you push against the bodies that begin to suffocate you. But it’s no use as no path comes to view, and each step you make only serves to be futile. 

“Jorah!” You shout as hard as you can, tears pooling in your eyes and cascading down your face. 

All of a sudden, you feel someone grab you by the waist. A yelp of panic shakes out from your throat as the stranger hauls you away. Your feet leave the ground and you think you’re being kidnapped and you try to call for help, but the music playing in the stadium is too loud that none of the people surrounding you bat an eye or even care to come to your aid. 

A cool breeze then brushes against your skin and your eyes widen in surprise, dumbstruck, when you feel your thighs rest down on broad shoulders, the stage up at the front coming in full view along with the tops of the heads of the concertgoers. 

“Are you alright, cub?” You hear Jorah’s voice and you look down to see the familiar shade of gold in his hair, his rough, calloused hands gripping your calves tight as he tries to steady himself, holding you still. “I told you to be careful.” He scolds but there’s no malice in his voice, only concern. 

“I am now.” You lean down and whisper against his locks, your shoulders curling forward as you move your hands to cradle his head. “I’m sorry.” You frown but relax in his hold, relieved to finally be out of the crushing crowd. 

Another song plays and your heart quickly skips a beat. For amongst the crowd singing along, you hear Jorah’s voice joining them—every lyric sang to perfection as he keeps his eyes forward. 

Like a flower in the concrete So beautiful and rare You gave me hope when I was empty Walked me through the fire, you were there

“You know this song?”

Jorah glances up at you for a quick second, not missing the smirk playing on his lips before looking back at the stage. “It’s my song to you.”

That takes you by surprise for you’ve never witnessed him listening to your favorite band. Yet here he is, singing from his heart and it makes your chest bloom with so much love, love for the man that you call yours. 

Slowly, you tilt his head back for him to look up at you, his blue eyes glistening against the moonlight, so blue like the ocean and you feel your tears welling in your eyes as he continues to mouth the words to you. 

You're the light in the dark You're the arrow through my heart You, I'm nothing without you

Leaning down, you close your eyes and press your lips against his. A soft hum forms at his throat as you kiss him softly, your hands moving to cup his face before you deepen the kiss.

And it’s as if time stands still, the voices of the crowd die in the background and all you hear is the band serenading you and your love and the beating of your heart while the moon glows in the sky. 

The song that inspired this fic is you! by LANY.

I no longer hold a tag list but if you wish to be updated with new fics I release, follow my archives blog, @springdandelixn-archives​ , and turn on the notifications.

#jorah mormont #ser jorah mormont #jorah mormont x reader #jorah mormont fluff #jorah mormont au #game of thrones au #modern knight #coconut bun stories

[shadeysprings]

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

[heike-251]

For me ... this is one of the best Episodes in 8 Seasons Game of Thrones.

#game of thrones #rewatching #ser jorah mormont #iain glen #love this man #have a huge crush on him #best show ever #GoT Season 7

[myloveiainglen]

Jorah face to face with Lyanna Mormont and The Heartsbane Sword Scene

I have never been more proud of Ser Jorah, first he loves Lyanna so much he wishes to save her life and even while his face tells us he thinks he will die soon he also is so honored to fight with heartsbane.  I will always love this man!

#youtube #iain glen #ser jorah mormont #heartsbane #lyanna mormont

[zbars-c]

Am I as excited for these two

as I was these two?

Absolutely!!

#ser jorah mormont #dany × jorah #daenerys x jorah #daenerys targaryen #house of the dragon #rhaenyra x daemon #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #house targaryen

[clarasimone]

SNOW BELLE AND LONDON BLUE

A Jorleesi Victorian Tale of Christmas (and two springs)

@jorahdaenerysevents

Rating: Teen

Summary:

In Victorian London, a petite silver-white rabbit, known as Snow Belle, captures the heart of a blue hare hailing from Bear Island, nicknamed London Blue. Though she thrives in the care of her masters, Lady Daenerys and Lord Mormont, she longs for adventure... and soon finds it when she wrecks havoc in London Blue's band of brothers, finding love in the process!

Notes:

My most heartfelt thanks to @terisrog, who script-edits my work like the snow faerie she always is, and also to my guest-artist extraordinaire @silverstone12345 , who brought her own romantic vision to my tale and enlightened it. Thank you ladies, from the bottom of my heart!!!!

Finally, I would like to dedicate this tale to @rileypotter17 and @regresso-com-agonia  who's grace under fire this Holiday season commands admiration. Ladies, I hope the New Year smiles down on you. You so, so deserve it!

And now, let the romance begin on A03! All seven chapters published at once, plus an appendix for @silverstone12345​′s art!

#snow belle and london blue #clarasimone #silverstone12345 #jorah daenerys winter holidays 2022 #Jorleesi #jorleesi fanfic au #ser jorah mormont #daenerys targaryen #rabbits #bunnies #christmas #Holidays #jorahdaenerysevents #jorleesievents #winterjorleesi

[springlibrary]

Home Masterlist

Jorah Mormont x F!Reader

Summary: You and Jorah are enjoying a peaceful night in your home when a knock on the door surprises you both and shakes the peace you know. Sequel to Lobelia Siphilitica.

Warnings: violence, pregnancy, more to be added as the story progresses.

Part I

Part II (coming soon)

#jorah mormont #ser jorah mormont #jorah mormont au #jorah mormont fanfiction #jorah mormont fanfic #jorah x reader #jorah x female reader #jorah mormont x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones au #jorah fluff #coconut bun stories