Game of Thrones one shots / preferences

Petyr Baelish X Bolton!Reader - (The Bolton Bitch)

"I don't like her." You mutter to your father, as you scowl through the window at the redhaired girl.

"You haven't even met her yet, y/n. Besides, she is merely a means to an end. All we need is for her to marry Ramsay and provide him heirs, then we can dispose of her." He said back, placing a hand on your lower back in an attempt to placate you. You sigh as the two of you make your way down to the front gate, ready to welcome the visitors.

Winding your way down the stone steps, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You know immediately its your brother and slow your pace. "What, Ramsay?" You snap, not willing to listen to any of his taunts.

"No need to be so aggressive, dear sister. I just wanted to offer my sympathies." He mutters in your ear, causing you to shiver.

"Sympathies? What is it now hmm? You've killed my mare? Raped my handmaid?"

"I wouldn't be so calm if I were marrying that slimy little whoremonger. Tell me, how do you keep so level headed?" He laughs as he pushes past you. You feel a deep sinking in the pit of your stomach but try to reason with yourself. This is just one of his jokes. He's simply trying to rile you up before you meet them, he wants you to embarrass yourself. Surely father would have told you?

You speed back up, hoping to catch your father before you leave the castle but to no avail. The sound of hooves grows increasingly louder as the gates open to allow Lady Stark and Lord Baelish entry. Steeling yourself, you stand between your father and brother and watch as the strangers dismount.

Tedious and slightly awkward introductions are made, the young Stark avoiding your gaze as you glare at her intensely. Her false smiles and politeness enrages you, where is her fight, where is her anger?

Lord Baelish on the other hand... There's someone who is interesting. Quiet machinations take place behind his eyes as he takes your hand and presses it against his lips, which are surprisingly soft. You like this hidden darkness.

"Y/n, perhaps you would like to show Lord Baelish to his chambers?" Your father asks, in a definite tone.

"Of course, My Lord." You hiss, your teeth still grit in dislike at Sansa. "Please follow me, My Lord."

"Call me Petyr, please." He says in a low voice as he takes your arm in his. Despite your hesitancy, you feel yourself relax slightly. You chalk it up to being away from the Stark girl.

The two of you head off at a leisurely pace to the inside of the castle. You make idle chit-chat before you reach a quiet and empty corridor deep within the castle. Petyr stops and takes your hands in his before saying "Your father hasn't told you of his plans, has he? His plans for you and I?"

"I might have heard something." You reply, stepping back to free yourself from his grip. While admittedly handsome, you didn't want him to get so hands on. Not yet at least.

"What exactly?" He probes.

"A marriage." You reply bluntly. You don't want to play these games that Littlefinger was so well known for. Not wanting to go any further you continue to lead Petyr to his chambers.

After another minute or so, you arrive. As you turn to leave, he grabs you and spins you round to face him. "Your father is expecting you to refuse. In fact, he is hoping for it. At which point, he will most likely marry you off to some old fat merchant for a hefty sum of gold. One less bastard to deal with."

"If that is true, why tell me?" You snap.

"I hadn't intended on telling you. However, upon meeting you, my opinion has changed. My plan has changed. I think we could help one another." Moving closer, he speaks so softly it gives you chills.

You weigh up your options, chewing your lip as you debate your options. You know you can't trust Littlefinger, but you definitely can't trust your father. He didn't exactly hide his annoyance at having a daughter, and a bastard no less.

"Fine. It appears I have very little to lose." You extend your hand for Lord Baelish to take. "But do not underestimate me or try to do me wrong. I may not show my brutality as openly as my brother, but it is there, make no mistake."

"I didn't expect that. But good. Predictable means easy to take down, easy to thwart, easy to manipulate." He replies. "Be unpredictable. I like unpredictable."

You can already tell that this Petyr Baelish is going to be fun to work with.