#bronn of the blackwater x reader

[reevesdriver]

Spilled Wine (NSFW)

Word count: 2756

Character(s): Bronn of the Blackwater

Reader: Female Lannister reader

Warning(s): NSFW / 🔥🔥🔥 / Eventual Smut / Age Gap (Reader is of age) / Oral Sex (M & F Receiving) / Drinking / Vulgar Language

Support Me: Kofi

(AN: I literally cannot find that many Bronn fics so I decided fuck it I'll write my own. Also I can’t remember exactly how it all went when Tyrion made it back to kings landing, cause I watched that ages ago, so just ignore any mistakes in the plot 😂)

News of Tyrions arrival back at Kings Landing was music to your ears, you’d spent more than enough time trying to converse with your older sister Cersei but it wasn't the same. The banter you had with your younger brother Tyrion was far more interesting than whatever twisted drama Cersei had to offer.

You got on with Cersei yes but when you heard Tyrions voice passing by your door as your Handmaiden helped you get ready for a great feast at his return you couldn't help but grin and hold back your urge to rush just to go and see him. When you were dressed you dismissed your handmaiden and quickly headed to the hall with your assigned guard in toe to try and catch up to your brother before he was bombarded by the rest of your family and friends.

As you enter the room you see a small crowd of knights stood with your brother, along with a man you’d never seen before. Quickly approaching the youngest Lannister you clear your throat. “How rude of you to pass by my chambers without saying hello little brother.”

“Ah here she is, this beautiful creature is my older sister. Lady Y/N.” Tyrion says making you roll your eyes.

“Oh Tyrion how I’ve missed your compliments.” You say with a smile. 

“I’m sure you have sister. Let me introduce you to this handsome man. This is Bronn of the Blackwater, he is the one who helped me on my travels.” Tyrion says motioning to the dark haired man who was currently eyeing you up and down as though you were some rare creature.

“Well Bronn, I’d like to thank you for bringing my brother home safely. Though I'm sure his endless talking made you want to throw him out of a window.”

“Aye my Lady, it had its ups and downs. Though it’s nice to see his tales of your beauty are true.” He replies and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks turning them a nice shade of red.

“Well my brother may be a liar at times and spin a false tale or two but I’m glad to look as you expected.”

“If you two don’t mind.” Tyrion interrupts. “I am starving and in need of some food and wine to fill my belly.”

“Of course brother, will you be joining us Bronn?”

“Aye, I could do with a drink.”

Instead of sitting at the main table with you and the rest of his family Tyrion sat amongst the crowd of knights with Bronn at his side. The pair shared tales of their travel to anyone who would listen whilst drinking and eating though Bronns chatter seemed to falter here and there as though he was distracted.

Tyrion looked to his new friend when he drifted off mid reply to some trivial question and gave a knowing smirk at the sight of the Sellsword gazing over to you. He knew that after the countless stories he’d shared about his older siblings Bronn would most definitely be eager to see you in person.

“You like her.” Tyrion said nudging Bronn almost making him spill his wine.

“She’s nice.” Bronn replies quickly.

“Nice enough to bed?”

“She’s your sister.” Bronn replies sharply. “And a lady. Doesn't she have some rich lord waiting for her hand in marriage?”

“That normally wouldn't stop you.” Tyrion said with a laugh then continued. “She was intended to be wed, though her future husband was killed in a battle so now she waits until our father finds her a new suitor. I’m sure she won't mind having her bed warmed for the night by the man who brought her beloved little brother home safely.”

Bronn laughed nervously and downed his wine before signalling for the cup-bearer to fill it up again. Throughout the night Bronn watched from his seat next to Tyrion as you ate, drank and then stood and chatted to your Handmaiden and some of your friends at the back of the room.

“It’s getting late, why don’t you escort my sister back to her chambers? I’m sure she could do with being rescued from the other lords in the room.”

“If that’s what my lord wishes.” Bronn finishes his drink and stands from the table which he has to hold onto momentarily as all the wine he’d drank hits him. When Bronn walked towards you and your friends he looked around nervously when he saw the small group of women looking to him before they muttered something to you. “My lady-” Bronn began as he approached you but when you turned and your eyes met his you grinned and interrupted him.

“Oh Bronn, come dance with me. I’m tired of hideous lords wanting to spin me round the room.” You say and refuse to wait for an answer. Instead you take hold of one of Bronns calloused hands and drag him through the crowd to the centre of the room and pull him towards you as you hold his hand and rest your other on his ribs.

The rhythm is uplifting and you can’t help but giggle as Bronn fumbles to keep up with you. “My lady. Your brother has asked that I escort you back to your chambers.” Bronn says when he finally finds his footing and dances with you in time to the music. His hand is holding yours tightly whilst his other is resting on your waist.

“Is that so?” You ask with a slight slur and quickly shift your gaze to your little brother who smirks and winks at you before downing the rest of the wine in his mug.

“Yes m’lady, he said to rescue you from the stuck-up cunt lords trying to ask you to dance.” He says in annoyance making you laugh at his choice of words.

“I assume some of those are your own words and not my brothers.” You say and he shrugs. When the song finishes and switches to that of a slower rhythm you stop dancing. “Escort me back to my chambers then. If my brother commands it.”

Bronn immediately turns and releases your hand allowing you to slip your arm around his and hold his bicep as he walks you through the crowd of lords and ladies that littered the room. You slipped out of the room, managing to avoid the prying eyes of your sister and her children, and walk down the corridor away from the loud music and chattering.

You walked with Bronn in silence down the corridor and further away from the celebration. The night air hits you both as you pass by the open windows of the corridor. “You’re a quiet one aren't you.” You say breaking the silence as you near your chambers.

“I’m a better listener than a talker.”

“A good quality for a man, I can’t tell you the amount of times I've been approached by lords who can never shut the fuck up.” You say and Bronn laughs.

“I imagine it’s more times than you can remember.”

“Most likely yes. All part of being an unmarried woman I suppose.” You sigh as you reply though Bronn does not add a comment. Soon you were standing outside of your chambers and looking up to the taller man as you relate your arm from around his. “Would you like to come in for a drink, as a thank you for returning my brother back in one piece? I think you deserve to try a more expensive wine than that served at the feast.”

“If that would please you m’lady then I will share a drink with you.”

Opening your door you step inside and head over to your table where a fresh jug of wine sits in the centre along with some goblets and lit candles to decorate. Bronn sits down at the table opposite you and watches with intense eyes as you pour two cups of wine and slide one over to him before taking a sip from your own.

“What do you make of it?” You ask watching as Bronn takes sip after sip of the liquid.

He gulps down the rest of it and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before putting the cup down on the hard surface of the table. “It’s the best wine I've ever tasted.”

“I’m glad you like it. Care for some more?” You ask taking the jug into your hands as you re-fill your cup. Bronn nods and watches as you move around the table towards him, bending at the waist ever so slightly to pour the expensive liquid into his cup. Your breasts threaten to spill from the top of your dress and Bronn can feel his breaches growing tighter as he blatantly stares at your chest.

“See something you like?” You ask when you catch Bronn staring. His eyes don’t move from your chest as you expected that they would, if it had been anyone else they would be fighting to look anywhere but your exposed skin but Bronn continued to keep his gaze fixed on the area at the top of your dress.

“Aye, I see two things I like.” His eyes flick up to your face and he smirks before taking a sip from his cup.

You place the jug on the table and swallow down a mouthful of wine before putting your cup down and moving over to the Sellsword. Bronn watches with eager eyes as you lift your dress up to straddle his thighs and plant yourself on his lap with your chest directly in his face. His hands quickly move to your waist whilst your own wrap around the back of his neck. You can feel the twitch of his cock pressing through his trousers and against your pussy.

“You’re a bold lady aren't you?” He questions making you smirk as his blue eyes look up to catch yours.

“I’m a lady who knows what she wants.” You say and before he can reply you press your lips against his. Bronn grabs your ass and pulls you closer against his body as he stands and slams you down onto the table, the force causing the jug and cups to fall and shatter on the floor below. “That was expensive wine.” You complain after hearing the pottery breaking and rich wine spilling onto the concrete.

“Fuck the wine you can buy more, there’s something else I'd rather taste anyway.” Tugging your dress and under-garments up Bronn pushes you down onto the table and kisses the insides of your thighs that are now hooked over his shoulders before diving his tongue between your labia. The Sellsword works his tongue like magic, licking and sucking exactly how you like it which has you clawing and arching against the table as you cum.

Giving a rough tug to his hair you pull him away from your privates and jump off the edge of the table to kiss him, your juices were coating his lips and dampened his facial hair and the thought that your scent would be embedded in his moustache for days drove him mad. Bronn unsheathes one of his knives from his belt and turns you around so he can slice the intricate lacing on the back of your dress. The sharp blade cuts through the knots with ease and the tip of the blade delicately grazes your back until Bronn returns his knife to its holster.

Turning back around you kiss Bronn again and the pair of you fight to undress one another whilst crossing the room to your bed. You can hear the ripping of fabric as he tears the dress from your body before pulling his own shirt over his head whilst you unlace his breaches to free his cock. Pulling away from his lips you quickly drop to your knees despite Bronns grip trying to stop you. “A lady shouldn’t be kneeling for a Sellsword.” He says with panted breaths.

“A lady can kneel for whoever she pleases.” You reply with a smirk as you unlace his trousers and free his cock.

Bronn looks down at you as you take his cock into your hand and begin to stroke it until it’s standing fully erect. Gathering saliva in your mouth you wrap your lips around the tip and suck it making Bronn groan and push a hand through your hair. The girth of his cock makes your mouth ache as you stretch your lips around the shaft to accommodate him. 

“Never had a noble lady on her knees for me before. Think I can get used to this.” He sighs with a lazy smile as he watches you with hooded eyes whilst you suck his cock. When Bronn is close to cumming he begrudgingly drags you up from your kneeling position and throws you onto the bed against your pillows with little to no effort. You lay with closed legs watching him as he removes his boots and trousers to join you in the centre of the bed.

Bronn kisses one of your knees and slowly pushes his hands between your legs, opening them just enough so he can kiss his way up to your thighs until he reaches your pussy again. “Best cunt I've ever tasted, better than any wine I've ever tasted too.” He says between lapping deep strokes against your clit with his tongue.

You moan as he sucks your clit causing jolts of pleasure to hit you. “Come here.” You say grabbing at his sculpted arms and Bronn happily moves to kiss you once more as he hovers over you. His dick is thick and dripping with pre-cum as he grinds it between your folds and against your clit. “I take it you’re not a maiden.” He says taking ahold of his cock and tucking it at your entrance.

“Unfortunately no, though I hope that’s not off-putting.”

“Never, means I don’t have to be gentle with you.” He pushes into you, the stretch his cock gives makes you fight back a scream of pleasure. He continues pushing into you until his cock is fully sheathed in-between your sopping walls though before you have time to adjust he begins pounding into you.

“F-Fuck.” You stutter as you dig your nails into his back making him grunt. Bronn watches with pride at how your face contorts with pleasure while he hammers into you at a brutal pace. His hips slam against your body and he reaches a hand up to hold your face and kiss you whilst his other is braced at the side of your head to keep him from collapsing on you.

“You ever been fucked like this before?” He asks whilst pressing his forehead against yours.

“No, never.” You moan. “Best fuck I've ever had.” Your blissful smile makes Bronn smirk with confidence and soon he has you cumming around his cock. Your walls constrict around him and he knows he has to fight the urge to pump his cum in you. Instead Bronn opts to pull out and plaster your belly and tits with thick white ropes of his seed.

With a moan and a grunt Bronn jerks his cock until it’s drained. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to your lips where he eagerly kisses you as he had done before. “Let me get a cloth m’lady. Can’t be leaving you in this state can we.” He says and moves from on top of you to go to your attaches washroom and retrieve a damp cloth.

Bronn takes his time wiping his seed from your body as well as delicately cleaning between your legs before wiping himself and returning the cloth to the other room. When he re-enters he sees that you’ve turned onto your side and pulled the covers over your naked body. He crosses the room and leans over to kiss you once more. “Goodnight Bronn, thank you again for saving my brother.” You say softly, voice clearly full of exhaustion.

“Goodnight m’lady.” He smiles, revelling in the fact that he knows you’re going to be struggling to walk in the morning. Bronn dresses quickly and leaves your chambers after peering out of the room and checking that the hallways were clear from any prying eyes. Unbeknownst to him Tyrion had been passing the end of the corridor when he saw the Sellsword leaving your chambers, he smirked at the sight of his friend closing your door and taking off in the opposite direction.

#mine #mywriting #game of thrones #bronn #bronn of the blackwater #bronn x reader #bronn x female reader #bronn imagine #bronn smut #bronn of the blackwater x reader #bronn of the blackwater x female reader #female reader #reader insert #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones smut #Jerome flynn #Jerome flynn imagine #Jerome flynn smut

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Sword for Hire Chapter 6

Bronn x reader

Word Count: 872

Summary: The pair of you make a decision about the way you’re gonna travel

Note: This isn’t exactly a popular work, but I’ll say it anyway. I might cut this one here instead of doing the full 10 chapters of it because I really ran outta steam.

The day started delightfully. Genuinely good without any hint of sarcasm. Bronn woke you with his head between your legs, the pair of you managed to catch a stag for breakfast (and later, lunch), and you even managed to reach your destination a full day ahead of schedule. Then it was simply a matter of delivering the package carried from King’s Landing (the entire reason you’d traveled to this particular flavor of Nowhere) and getting paid.

“Now that was my kind of job,” Bronn was happily proclaiming as the tavern’s server deposited two large bowls of stew and cups of ale on your table.

You scoffed disbelievingly before taking a drink.

Immediately, his eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “Are you arguing with me, sweetheart?”

“After all of the times I’ve been subjected to your sermons about the delights of fighting and fucking. You bet your ass I’m arguing with you, sweetheart.”

At the sight of his roguish smile, you couldn’t help but be almost overwhelmed with how much you loved this man. “Maybe I just said it for your benefit. You ever think about that?”

“Oh, is that it?” you laughed.

“Certainly! Always thinking about my lovely wife, I am.”

“Now that I’ll believe.”

A few quiet minutes passed where the pair of you slurped down the (surprisingly tasty) stew. One of your feet was hooked around his ankle the entire time, because somehow after all this time together, you still hadn’t gotten used to the little flutter in your chest that made itself known every time your eyes met. Similarly, he made a point of brushing his fingers against yours every time the stew’s accompanying loaf of bread was passed between you.

“So,” you spoke up once your bowl consisted of only the dregs of your meal, “what’s next?”

He raised a single eyebrow. “You only ask that when you’ve got something specific in mind. Which means you want to take that job from that Lannister cunt that tried to hire us back at Casterly Rock.”

You pointed your spoon at him. “It’ll pay well and you know it.”

“It’s another fucking messenger job!”

“You were just singing praises for messenger jobs! What’s so wrong with taking another?”

“We’re godsdamned sellswords, that’s what’s wrong with it. It’s been weeks since we’ve had a real fight, and a man needs to get his blood up sometimes.”

You sighed. As proven by the earlier conversation, you knew full well how much he loved his fighting. Not that you could blame him. Not really. It was only fair since he was so good at it. Still . . . you simply weren’t in the mood to fight for your life. You’d been enjoying the simple escort and delivery jobs the pair of you had been on lately.

Then a thought occurred to you. “What if we split up for a bit?”

“What? One fucking fight and you’re ready to give up?”

“No!” you exclaimed, hating even the idea of it. “Think about it, Bronn. I want a break, and you don’t. We could make twice the money working separate jobs. As long as we don’t get killed in the interim, why not? We can just meet up in a few months at, say, Riverrun.”

He sat silently for a moment, only squinting at you as he thought. “Are you suggesting either of us would be able to stay celibate that long? Because I know us too well to think we’ll not run into problems by next week.”

You only shrugged. You’d been mulling this idea over for a while, worrying about the possibility of him getting tired of you or vice versa. “Don’t fall in love with anyone else while we’re apart, and I won’t give a damn who you fuck. Can you say the same?”

After thinking on it for a second, he shrugged. “Can’t say I’ve ever been the jealous sort.”

As if sent by the gods for some strange joke, a soldier chose that moment to sidle up and ask, “Did I just hear that this lovely lady is going to be suffering of a cold bed?”

“Fuck off, lad,” Bronn muttered. “Just because I’m not the jealous type, doesn’t mean I won’t gut her for propositioning her in front of me.”

“Now, now. From what I was hearing, you’re the one that’s leaving her lonely.”

“Then maybe you’ll listen when I say it.” You pulled a dagger from your belt to slam it into the table. “Fuck off, lad.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered uselessly as he slunk back to the corner of the tavern from whence he came. 

After a moment, your eyes met Bronn’s, and it was only seconds before both of you broke down into not-so-quiet snickers.

“Come here,” he instructed, grinning with a little wave of his hand. 

The pair of you stood simultaneously, sharing a smiling kiss over the table top.

“Are we really going to do this?” you asked when you parted, still leaning with both palms on the table.

“We travelled alone before,” he pointed out.

“True.”

“That reunion’s gonna be a  thing of fuckin’ beauty.”

You yanked him in for another kiss. “Why don’t you give me a taste now?”

His grin turned wicked. “Fuck, I love you.”

#bronn x reader #bronn imagine #bronn of the blackwater imagine #bronn of the blackwater x reader #reader insert #game of thrones imagine #got imagine

[catsteeth]

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader 

+:✿ Chapter 2 ✿:+ : Beautiful Girl

previous chapter

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister.  You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his. 

CW: afab reader, SMUT, MDNI, Fingering, P in V sex, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.

Word Count: 5125 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you’d just finished getting Margery ready for the day she sat you down and began to ready you as well. It wasn’t custom for a Lady to dress and pretty her Hand Maiden but Margery had taken the responsibility voluntarily and happily. 

“Podrick was seen where?” You asked wide eyes, holding in a laugh.

“Little Finger’s brothel,” Margery replied with a smirk as she brushed your hair. 

You shook your head with a smile “I will not believe such rumors.” 

“I hear the whores did not receive a payment.” Her fingers twisting the front sections of your hair and braiding them together at the back of your head.

“You’re suggesting he didn’t pay them?” You asked with disbelief. He didn’t seem like the type of man to pay for a whore, much less the type of man to steal their time and effort. 

“I am suggesting they did not want a payment. I hear that he was so skilled, they wouldn’t accept his payment.” She said as she finished your hair and she sat in front of you, beginning to do your makeup. 

“Now that I can’t believe it.” You said holding back laughter,

“You never know for sure with men like him. Quiet, and sweet, they can be sensitive to a woman's needs.” She said putting 

“I’ve been pinned against enough trees on Bear Island by enough men to know, no tongue, fingers, cock, or even nose is good enough to turn down gold.” 

“Perhaps you’re right. But perhaps you’re wrong, there is only one way to find out.” 

“Oh please, he can hardly hold his gaze to mine.”

“Some would say that means he likes you, besides the poor boy gave you a flower. One of the sweetest, and pathetic things I have ever seen.” She jested.

“He doesn’t want me, not like that.” You always found it hard to believe that any man would be interested in you beyond bedding.

she rolled her eyes as she finished applying a rouge to your lips. She fixed your hair slightly and half a small compact mirror to your face.

“if i were a man i would ravish you.” she smiled as you looked at yourself in the mirror. 

Margery had done your makeup and hair countless times. Every morning after you’d done hers, but each time always made sure to tell you how beautiful you were. even if you didn’t believe it. 

“a man would ravish a horse if desperate enough.” you pushed the compact away, you got up and began to select the gowns you’d both wear to the celebratory feast tonight.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

That evening was a celebration of the victory of Tywin Lannister. Nothing for you to feel celebratory for, but it gave you an opportunity to dance and drink. 

Most of the night you and Margrey had danced with one another, made quite jokes about the other men there. But once the celebration began to wind down Margrey had found an excuse to speak to Joffrey, part of her plan to seduce him. So naturally you made yourself scarce. Finding a corner of the room to stand in while you drank.

It would have been perfect to end your night in peace if a tall man didn’t approach you. 

He could have been some noble man or a knight, kings guard, even city watch, you didn’t know and more importantly did not care. 

“My, who might you be, my Lady.” He asked, his voice was low and attempting to sound seductive. 

“(Y/N) Mormont.” You said as you drank from your cup, your eyes wandered the room, paying little attention to the attractive man in front of you. As your eyes searched the large room, they landed on a pair of eyes already looking at you, Podrick’s. He looked at you with the eyes of a sad dog. 

It caught you so off guard you didn’t hear whatever the man had just said, only the mumbling of words. You tore your eyes from his and looked at the man, “What?” burrowed furrowed in frustration. 

“I said, then you are not much of a Lady.” He said with a twisted grin

“Is that so?” You said emotionlessly, unwilling to show any kind of offense that might have been taken. Fearing it would give him too much power. Besides, you did not care about the opinions of southerners. 

“Hand Maidens are not Ladies of any land, are they not?” 

“Perhaps.” You said your eyes returned to scanning the room, trying to find Podrick again, but having no luck.

“I could make you feel like one for tonight.” He held out his hand to you,

You held your cup to your lips as you spoke, “I’ve no wish to dance with you, Ser”.

“I cannot dance with a handmaiden,” The man smirked, his hand snaking around your waist. “I can enjoy one though.” He whispered in your ear.

You smirked back, and then you leaned in, making him think you were about to kiss him when you kicked him in the shin. “Oh!” You fained shock as he grunted in pain “My apologies Ser, I have always been quite clumsy.” Your concerned and shock demeanor dropped as you began to walk away. He began to spit some curse your way when you stomped on his foot. “If you’ll excuse me, my Lord.” 

As you walked forward a few steps before the man grabbed ahold of your wrist.

“You northern who-” He was interrupted by Podrick’s voice. 

“My Lady, the Queen wishes to have a word with you.” He spoke louder than usual. His eyes were wide and looked almost angry. 

You ripped your hand away from the man's grasp and walked with Podrick out of the room. 

“What does she want?” You asked, rubbing your wrist. 

“Nothing, I made that up.” He said avoiding your gaze as you both walked down the hall. 

“You made that up?” You looked at him with wide eyes, he nodded still avoiding your gaze. “Well, thank you.” You said softly. 

He’d walked you all the way to your chambers with no other words were exchanged between the two of you, other than the occasional glance at one another. You had reached your chambers door, you looked over at him as you began to open the door. 

He was ready to nod and walk away when you said, “Podrick,” To which his eyes went directly to yours. You didn’t say another word, just walked into your chambers leaving the door open. 

He hesitated for a moment, but walked in after you. 

He stood there, showing just how intimidated he was. 

As you kicked your shoes off, and removed the necklace Margery allowed you to barrow for the night, you looked over your shoulder to him “Close the door.” You said softly, and so he did. 

As you turned to him and began to walk towards him, his eyes subconsciously went from your eyes to your cleavage. Now more exposed now that you’d removed your necklace. He couldn’t help it really. Your corset and gown were truly putting them on display, and the candle light from your room made your skin glow beautifully. You smirked when you noticed, making him swallow hard and return his gaze to your eyes. He was going to apologize but you reached for his hand making him choke back any words he had. 

You held his hand, looking at his now healed cut, now formed scar across the palm of his hand. 

You trailed the scar with your finger tip. 

“You’re seducing me-” He finally found some courage to spit out some words.

“You feel seduced?” You still held his hand, still admiring your work on his hand.

“Yes- I mean, it is intentional isn’t it?” He stammered, somehow a little out of breath.

“Do you want it to be?” You looked at him with a grin and mischievous grin.

“I don’t want to offend you-” He said softly, looking away.

“So you don’t?” You let go of his hand,

“No- no,” His eyes went wide as he stammered, “I want you to, want to seduce me.” He winced at his own words, not knowing how to phrase it.

“Why would that offend me?” You smiled softly, holding back a giggle.

“I am just a squire, my Lady.” He shook his head looking down

“And here in King's Landing, I am just a handmaiden they send to patch up knights and Lords.” You said softly 

“You are Lady Mormont.” He said, it made you smile. No one had given such respect to your name in so long. 

“You’re sweet.” You brushed his short hair around his ear with your fingertips “Have you ever seduced a woman?” You asked sweetly, you knew the rumors of the whore house, but didn’t know if you could believe it.

“No, no, not really.” He said like we were being honest… maybe he was.

“Show me how you would.” You said looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

“What do you mean?” 

“How do you think I was seducing you?”

“You, made me… feel-” he stammered.

“Mhmm, so try to make me feel…” 

He stepped closer to you, meekly, his head lowered. He reached out and lightly ran his hand over your hair. Taking a strand of it and looking at it, admiring the color of it, and its texture. He looked into your eyes, his head still lowered. 

“You are beautiful.” His hand then went from your hair, to trailing his hand gently down your arm and grabbing your hand softly. He played with your fingers, again, gently. 

“I believe you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” He didn’t stammer, his voice was earnest, and gentle.

“This is wooing, not seducing.” You smiled and corrected him as if he were acting, genuinely thinking he were making it up. 

“I’m not trying to do either, my Lady.” Your smile dropped, “I just wish to be near you.” 

“You shouldn’t.” You said pulling your hand away.  “How we first met, tell me that.” 

“Lord Slynt ordered you to pour him wine-”

“And I spit in it.”

“He deserved it.”

“I lied to him, and your lord.” 

“Not to me.”

Your hardened gaze softened “No, no not to you” You lowered your head avoiding his eyes. afraid you’d melt in his sweetness. found yourself feeling that warm feeling in your chest again. You reached for his fingers with your own. interlocking your index finger with his. 

“You are- different.” He stammered a bit “Special.” He corrected, thinking it sounded more flattering. 

“You really are sweet. I don’t believe I've met a man so sweet as you.” He smiled, and in turn you smiled back, “You are shy, more so normally than you are now.” 

He let out a small chuckle “I still feel shy.” He said as he looked down smiling

“Are you too shy for me to kiss you?”

Instead of responding to you he cupped your face in his hands. So gently it was as if you were made of the finest porcelain in the realm. He leaned in and kissed your lips. Soft and again, gentle. but also passionate and almost lustful. You were surprised how well he kissed. No, he didn’t kiss well, his kiss was intoxicating somehow. Maybe it was the wine on his lips or just skill. you couldn’t help but let out the smallest whimper into his mouth. It made him pull away and go wide eyed. 

“You’re quite good at that.” You said wide eyes, catching your breath a bit.

“I apologize-“ He said, still holding your head in his hands.

“For what?”

“I should have asked you first,”

“Too late for that now,” you said, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. Your lips fell into a perfect rhythm as his hands moved to your ribs, careful not to touch your breasts. his thumbs moved against your ribs slowly and gently. 

You’d never felt this way with a man before. Normally it was sweaty, sloppy, and you ended it burnt out and covered in spit. This was like a dance, like you and he had kissed in every life. 

You felt terrified. An emotion you rarely ever felt. 

What if he was like every other man. They whisper sweet things in your ears, promises, and compliments. Then once they lifted your skirts and humped into you a few times they’d leave. You felt hurt the first time, maybe the second time too. But after that it was expected. So you never let yourself become invested in a man again. You used them as they used you. 

But this was different, this wasn’t only lust, there was something more. But was this feeling only yours, or did you share it? You needed to test him, only you didn’t know quite how. 

“Stop” You whispered in his mouth as you kissed, it made him stop immediately, and he stepped away from you, breathless. 

“I- I’m sorry” He said about to go for the door before you stopped him grabbing his arm.

“No,” 

“But you said-” 

“I can’t bed you like this.” You said running your hands on the tight fabric of your gown.

“Bed me?” He asked as if he had choked, it made you smile.

“Will you wait here for me?” You asked, petting his cheek, and he nodded slightly confused.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You had gone into the bathing room that was attached between your room and Margery’s. You bathed quickly, washed your hair, washed your face of its makeup, and slipped into your night dress. The only thing you wore to cover your nakedness. 

As you opened the door you saw Podrick lighting the fireplace in your room. He stood as he heard you open the door and looked in your direction as he said, “I thought you might be cold-” He was cut off by the sight of you. His eyes were enamored by the sight of you. 

You hadn’t shown him this side of you. Totally free of glamor and shine. “Thank you,” You said as you walked towards him. 

As you stood in front of him he still couldn’t let out any words. “Do you… not like it?” 

He shook his head quickly, “This is the most I have ever seen of you.” he placed a hand on your cheek. “You are truly the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” 

You searched his eyes for a hint of deceit and found none. You took the hand he placed on your cheek and sat down on the fur carpet that laid in front of the fireplace, pulling him down with you. You looked at the scar on his hand again, this time placing a kiss on the scar. 

“Thank you for what you did tonight.” He looked slightly confused, “The lie you told.” You explained.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, but then I saw how he grabbed you.” He looked down, now beginning to simmer, “No one should grab you like that.” He said in a lower tone. “If I’d a sword, I wouldn’t have to tell a lie.” He became angered thinking of it.

You moved closer to him, beginning to undo the clasps on the front of his top. He looked intimidated again suddenly, “A sword hm?” He nodded, “What would you have told him?” 

“To unhand you, or I’d remove his hand.” He said, with a darker tone of voice, it made you smile as you pulled his red leather top off, leaving him in his tunic. 

“One day you’re going to be the only honorable knight in all of Westeros.” You saw heat rush to his cheeks when you said those words. “A big strong shining warrior.” You said crawling closer to him. 

“You’re seducing me again.” He said staring at your lips, his eyes drifted downwards again to your cleavage again now further exposed by the thin fabric and the angle you were in from crawling to him. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked in a whisper,

He shook his head “No,” He said, grasping your face in his hands kissing you so deeply you let out a small moan into his lips, only making him kiss you deeper. 

His hands roamed your sides, as yours gripped the back of his neck and roamed his chest down to his stomach.

When your hand reached his stomach you felt his muscles twitch and he let out a small groan. The sound of his groan made you clench your thighs together. 

Mixed with the sounds of your breathless whimpers he felt himself stiffening, “Can I touch you?” He whispered in your ear, you nodded and he whispered back “Thank you,” As his hands cupped your breasts. He let out a moan into your mouth as he groped you, feeling the plumpness of your breasts. You couldn’t take it anymore and began to lift your night dress. You stopped yourself however, not wanting to push him, 

“Is this okay?” You asked, and he nodded frantically. To which you smiled and lifted the rest of it off. His hands gripped your breasts tighter, and his mouth moved from yours to your neck and shoulder. 

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered against your hot skin, repeating it over and over again. 

One of your hands petted his hair, while the other went over his stomach to his now tenting trousers. You heard him moan into your neck and his hands gripped you tighter, making you moan in return. 

“You sound beautiful too,” He whispered 

“Take this off” You said much less elegantly as you pulled at the fabric of his shirt. As he did you laid down on the fur carpet under you. Looking up at him as he removed his tunic. You smiled up at him, “You’re quite pretty too.” 

He shook his head in awe of you, “Not like you… You could be a painting,” He said, dropping to his knees. He leaned down and kissed your lips. Both your lips at this point were slightly swollen, but that didn’t stop either of you from continuing. Kissing with a new kind of passion. 

You felt, for a moment, this might be much more. And if it was, you didn’t want to hide from him at all. You pulled away from his lips as you blurted out, 

“I’ve been with men before you.” breathlessly, “I feel I should be honest with you.” You felt even more naked revealing that, you felt heat spread across your face.

“That’s alright.” He nodded, trying to reassure you. “And I- I have- I’ve been with women before you.” 

Your eyes went wide, you thought back to the rumors you’d heard. “You have?” You shook your head to yourself trying to shake those thoughts out of your head. “That’s alright.” You said looking back at him, you smiled softly “It is, it’s alright.” You felt a hint of excitement, pulling him back into your body and to your lips. 

You two kissed for a moment until his mouth ran down to your neck, covering your body in as many kisses as he could, making you giggle. Giggle until you feel his thumb run down the slit of your folds. Which made you gasp slightly and then smile at him, and he smiled back. 

He leaned down and began to kiss and suck on your breasts. 

You felt yourself becoming a wet and sticky mess and his thumb continued to roll up and down the slit of your folds, masterfully avoiding your clit, teasing you. 

Finally his index and middle finger parted you, while his thumb gently teased your clit. 

“Mmmmmm” you let out as you closed your eyes. 

“Do you like that?” he asked softly into your breasts, all you could do was nod as he applied more pressure. 

his teeth grazed your nipple with expertise. As though he knew just the right amount to use, how much you liked. 

He continued to kiss, suck on, and sometimes lightly bite your breasts. You felt yourself clenching around nothing as he moaned soft praises into your skin. while he kept circling your clit. 

It was beginning to be too much and not enough. “More,” you whined, “Your fingers.” you said. 

He nodded, “Show me, show me what you like.” 

you reached your hand below, rubbing your clit only a little, then you pushed a finger in. He watched as your eyes closed from the pleasure

He inserted his finger alongside yours, feeling how you moved your own finger inside you. 

The extra digit in you stretched you so nicely, you let out a small sigh as you smiled at him and he smiled back at you.

You inserted a second finger, and he followed suit. The stretch burned slightly, it had been a while since you had been with a man, and now already you’d four fingers inside you. Albeit two were smaller than the other two but still. You whined a little as you winced slightly. It made him lean down and kiss your lips. 

“You’re wonderful” he said as he kissed your jaw and your neck, pumping his fingers in you with your own guiding him. You then removed your fingers, content to let him take control. 

His fingers knew when to curl and when to relax, when to push against the soft spot in you, and knew just the right speed. No man had ever known how to draw out such pleasure from simply his fingers with you. 

“Podrick-“ you gasped at certain curl of his fingers, 

“My lady?” he said into your lips, 

“Call me my name,” you said into his, 

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)..(Y/N)…(Y/N)..” he repeated softly as he kissed your cheek, then your other cheek, then your forehead, then your eyelids, nose, and finally your lips. 

You took his face into your hands, as gently as he took yours in his. You kissed him sweetly, as you pulled away you whispered “I want to make you feel good,” 

He smiled and let out a small chuckle “I feel very good,” 

You shook your head and rubbed your palm onto his tenting trousers, making him close his eyes tightly, “I want you to feel even better.” 

Your touching continued until he was grunting and bucking into your hand, “I- I have to take these off.” He said with a bit of shame as he fumbled with the strings of his trousers. You gladly helped him with a smile on your flushed face. 

As he was freed from his pants, you took him in your hand, looking at his cock. It was bigger than you had expected, and by far the prettiest one you’d seen. Most were crooked, too thin, or too wide but his was perfect. 

“Pretty thing you’ve got there,” You said with a smile as you pulled him into another kiss. 

As you did you pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, slinging your leg over his body. 

He looked flustered with your boldness but pleased. “Thank you,” he responded. 

“You’re welcome,” You said as you lined his cock, slick with precum against your entrance. His hands gripped your hips as you lowered yourself, pushing him inside of you. 

You let out the prettiest of moans from your lips as did he. 

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you grinded him into you, in and out. The way his cock twitched inside of you hit the soft spot in you so deliciously each time, making you moan even louder. 

You looked down at him, you ran your hand against his cheek as he looked back at you with a soft smile while moans left his lips.

The look in his eyes as he watched you squirm and whimper was a look you were not accustomed to.

All of the sudden, he pulled you down and rolled you onto your back. You were face to face, his arms wrapped around your body and yours around his. Your legs around his waist as he bucked into you, again and again. The way he did it, was as if he had done it a thousand times before. 

He moved his hands to hold your face, and his other to hold your hand. 

His thumb rubbed against your cheek, sweetly. Just before it left your cheek and trailed down your body to your cunt. Rubbing your clit in circles. 

He could feel you clenching around him, his speed picked up and his mouth returned to your nipples. But his hand never left yours. 

“I’m cuming, Podrick, I- mmhmm” You whined, only making him speed up even more. 

You felt your legs shake, your toes curl, and the pressure in your stomach snap and the warmth in your core spread around his cock. You let out the prettiest of moans as you came. You gripped his hand tightly. And he peppered your chest and your neck in kisses. “I want you to cum,” You whispered as he continued to fuck into you.

“So warm… so wet.” He whimpered against your neck, “Gods, I need you.” 

His thrusts in you became more and more erratic, you anticipated his cum filling you, you anticipated the heat that would fill you. You wanted it, badly. You smiled as you saw his face contort knowing it was coming, but he pulled out and came on the ground next to you. 

You whined a little, “I wanted it,” You said in a whisper. 

“You?-” He looked confused “You wanted it?” 

You nodded, pouting a little. 

“Why?” He asked, not being able to understand it, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to- to sully your body.” He said, sweet sentiment. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈꒱꒱

After he cleaned it up, you had gotten in bed. 

He dressed himself back in his tunic and walked over to you where you pulled him into your bed. 

He held you against his body, and you held him back. He just stared into your eyes, as he pet your cheek. He admired the way you looked against the light of the fire. His eyes trailed down your body and he saw the bruises he left from his kisses on your breasts. His thumb grazed over them as he said “I’m sorry, I-’ 

“You did nothing wrong,” You said as you gripped his face and pulled him down to kiss his lips. “Do you think your Lord misses you?” You asked jokingly. 

“I think he is too drunk to notice.” He said smiling at you, “What about your Lady?” 

“I think she was too involved in Joffrey to notice.” You said with a giggle. 

“Sleep with me tonight?” You asked softly, 

He nodded and he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your neck.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

When you woke up, you were alone. 

You felt a little betrayed but you knew he had duties. 

Later that day you were ordered to check on Lord Tyrion’s injuries as the Maester was too busy to see to it himself. 

When you knocked on the door to Tyrion's chambers Bronn answered the door, he eyed you up and down, making you roll your eyes. 

“My Lord,” You said walking into Tyrion’s chambers, brushing past Bronn and avoiding his gaze. 

“Ah, the bear girl.” Tyrion said,

“(Y/N) Mormont, my Lord.” Podrick attempted to correct him, which made Bronn huff and roll his eyes. But you smiled at him, and he smiled back. 

“Yes, Podrick, I know her name. My family is holding her captive after all.” 

You smirked at his admission, ‘How’re you feeling?” You asked as you sat a leather bag of medicines and supplies on a table. 

“Oh quite pleasurable.” Tyrion said sarcastically,

You turned towards him, dropping your concerned demeanor “I need to know if it stings or itches, if it’s infected, it could spread to your eyes, you’ll go blind, it could spread to your sinuses which could make you go deaf, and if it spreads to your brain you’ll die."

“You’re a gentle flower aren’t you?” 

“Always have been. The Flower of Bear Island they called me.” You said sarcastically with crossed arms, making Tyrion huff a chuckle, “Yes and now they call me bear girl and whore, so if you could be so kind and cooperate I can see to it that you don’t die.” 

Podrick held back a smile at your strength.

“Alright, no burning, itching, or stinging. Satisfied?” Tyrion said as you sat beside him.

“Somewhat…” You said while examining the cut. 

Podricks eyes were entranced by the way your eyes darted around the Lord's scar, how you examined it with such expertise. How your eyebrows narrowed and your lips pouted slightly when you focused intensely on something. How when you wrapped a new bandage around the Lord's face you bit on your bottom lip. As he stared at your lips he thought of your first kiss, how warm and soft your lips were, he thought of your sweet taste. He wanted to grab your face and do it all over again. He was so deep into his fantasy he hadn’t even noticed Tyrion had called his name twice.  

Bronn smacked Podricks head, making him snap out of it as Tyrion repeated himself again. 

“Pod, see Lady Mormont to her chambers.” 

“Yes, my Lord.” Podrick nodded

“Oh I'm sure the lad would love that.” Bronn said as you and Podrick left the room.

Once the door to Tyrion's chamber was closed you turned to Podrick with narrowed eyes. 

“You told them?” You asked with venom.

“No, no, no I wouldn’t.” He stammered, not wanting you to believe he would do such a thing to you, “I wouldn’t. I believe I am just not very good at concealing my… interest in you.” He said softly so no one would hear. 

It made you smile. 

“I am sorry I couldn’t stay, My Lady. This morning, I couldn’t stay, Lord Tyrion would have sent someone for me.” He said softly again.

“I told you, you can call me by my name.” You said not willing to say it was alright but not willing to say it wasn’t. “Did you forget it, Podrick?” You teased him

“No, no (Y/N)” He said your name with a smile.

“Good, I thought your interest in me had finally subsided.” 

“I don’t think it could.” 

It made you smile again, 'seven hells' you thought, falling for such things.

You looked around and saw no one in the hall, you pulled him into another kiss.

NOTE:sowwy this took so long, i wuv you!

TAG LIST: @ryn-away @boojaynaqueen @holierthancunt @symonedoesart

#podrick #podrick payne #podrick x reader #podrick x you #podrick x y/n #podrick payne x reader #podrick payne x you #podrick payne x y/n #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #got fanfic #got fic #got #podrick headcanons #smut #got smut #got x reader #bronn #ser bronn of the blackwater #tyrion lannister #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire

[levithestripper]

can i request game of thrones hcs about jaime, bronn, and sandor's (and whoever else you'd want) sex habits? kinda like the sex habit post you made for attack on titan?

Sex Habits with Jaime Lannister, Bronn, Renly Baratheon, Loras Tyrell, and Sandor Clegane

masterlist

warnings: gender-neutral reader, mating press, hickeys, mention of bondage, power bottom! bronn, orgasm control, oral [m! receiving], dirty talk, overstimulation, hair pulling.

relationships: jaime/reader, bronn/reader, renly/loras, sandor/reader.

included characters: jaime, bronn, renly, loras, sandor.

length: 1.1k || read on ao3

⤷ if you want to be added to the taglist click here

a/n: recently bought myself a hbomax subscription so my game of thrones hyperfixation came back with an aggression that’ll only get worse once house of the dragon comes out

Jaime is always the dominant one in the bedroom. He enjoys having that type of control over you; it’s different than the kind of control he has over his men. Being with someone who trusts him enough to let him restrain them to the point where they’re utterly defenseless fills him with an immeasurable amount of desire.

He loves to leave hickeys or a visible mark on you in places where it’s impossible to hide them. You belong to him, and he’s going to make sure everyone knows you’re off limits. He always ensures they’re a deep, vibrant shade of red or purple, ensuring that the men and women of the court would whisper to themselves about them.

Jaime’s favorite position to take you in is a tossup between cowgirl and missionary. After he loses his hand, cowgirl is easier for him, and he gets the added bonus of watching you bounce on top of him. Even after his hand is gone, missionary is still common with you two, but not as much so. Jaime enjoys folding you in half, pushing your knees to your ears, makin’ you squeal from it.

“Fuck, my love,” Jaime groans, “You’re so tight ’round my cock.” He has your legs resting atop his broad shoulders, effectively folding you in half. His hips slap against your ass, the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the room. Your moans mix nicely with it, which only spurs Jaime on further. “Gods, I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

Bronn is more lenient when it comes to dominance in the bedroom. He’d never entertain the idea of being on the bottom, but he’s willing to hand over the reins of control every once in a while. He’s always in control, it’s almost therapeutic for him to let go. Bronn likes it when you take control, likes it when you straddle his waist and make him ask for permission to cum. But if you overuse your power, he’ll stop letting you do it.

Other than cowgirl, his favorite position is doggy. Seeing your pretty little back arch downwards and your ass wiggling in front of his face gets him harder quicker than anything else. His hands spread themselves down your spine, thumbs rubbing over the ridges he finds there.

“Mm, you’re very good at this, you know,” Bronn said, his voice somewhere between a chuckle and a groan. Your lips are wrapped nicely around the sellswords’ thick cock, sucking him off like you have all the time in the world. Bronn cards his fingers through your hair, tugging on it when he wants you to move faster. “Yeah, just like that, love. Just like that.”

Renly and Loras have found what works for them, and they stick to it. Renly likes to top, while Loras prefers to bottom, so it works out well. Loras is a pillow prince; enjoying being pampered and praised and fucked out of his mind. Renly is more than eager to give Loras whatever he wants, loving the sounds of his needy moans.

Loras knows exactly how to get his lover going, and he uses that to his advantage constantly. While Renly is away at his war council, Loras spreads himself out across their bed, back arched nicely, hips swaying as they hovered over the mattress.

The large oak door creaked as it shut behind him, blocking the noise of angry Lords arguing over tired battle plans. Renly ran a hand down his face and then through his hair, groaning softly. A whistle floats through the chamber, guiding Renly’s gaze to his bed. “My Prince,” he grins, the sight of him washing away any stress brought in from his council. “You surprise me.”

Loras chuckles coyly, wagging his hips enticingly. “Your war council was long today, my love. You left me alone for so long.” He fakes a sadness in his voice, enjoying teasing him. Renly walks to the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving the gift that was Loras’ ass. “You like what you see, Your Grace?”

Renly nods, hands gravitating towards the ass in front of him. “Apologies, my love. The war we wage is growing ever most complicated as of late.” He tugs Loras’ breeches down to his knees, hands spreading his cheeks apart to gaze at all his lover has to offer. “I’m sure I’ll be able to make it up to you, hm?” Loras twists his head back to look at him, a broad grin on his face. “Yes, I know just how to make it up to you, my love.” Renly leans down, licking a fat stripe up his lover’s taint.

“Oh, Gods, Renly,” he moans out in surprise, gripping the pillow in front of him, his knuckles turning white. “Just like that, please, keep going.” His hips press against Renly’s face, a silent beg for more, which his King granted. It wasn’t uncommon for Renly to go down on his lover. Loras melts every time. The feeling of his tongue tracing his rim, dipping slightly inside, making Loras moan even louder than before. Renly rarely needed to stop for air, content with the quick, shallow breaths he got between his own moans. “Renly, My King, please, please give me more!”

When you’re with Sandor, there’s no question of who’s in charge. Sandor is either inside the walls of the Red Keep or out on the road, so sex with him is usually quick, as that’s all he ever has time for. He’s not below pulling you into a closet or an empty chamber for a quickie or a sloppy blowjob.

But when he does find himself with an extended period of free time, he spends it catering to you and your pleasure. He pulls you to sit on his face, his nose buried deep in your sex. Sandor doesn’t stop until his chin is dripping with spit and slick and cum, the fluids rolling down his neck and getting stuck in his beard. His hands sit at your hips, forcing you to keep you still and preventing you from wiggling around.

“Sandor, Sandor, please!” you beg, tears streaming down your cheeks, your hands tangled in his unruly, knot-filled hair. His large, calloused hands envelop your waist, forcing you still. You’re positive there will be bruises blooming there later tonight. “Please, please, I can’t cum anymo—ore!” your voice cracks with arousal, pulling on Sandor’s hair harder.

Sandor came up for air, his lust-filled eyes meeting your own. “You’re done cummin’ when I say so, sweetheart.” He kisses the insides of your thighs before returning to the feast above him. Licking stripes up your sex, each one leaving you trembling and shaking with overstimulation. “Now that I’ve tasted you, how can you expect me to stop so soon?”

taglist: @aestosia, @sandorcentral, @aestheticallywinchester, @th3rah, @broadsdrinkwhisky, @i-smoke-chapstick, @groovy-lady, @its-deputy-caleb

#jaime lannister #jaime lannister x reader #jaime x reader #bronn of the blackwater #bronn x reader #renly baratheon #loras tyrell #renly x loras #renly baratheon x loras tyrell #sandor clegane #the hound #sandor the hound clegane #sandor x reader #x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #got x you #got x y/n #got characters #x you #x y/n #jaime lannister imagine #sandor clegane imagine #got imagine #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral s/o #character x reader

[ohmy-zabrak]

🌙 Have this part of my wip because we need more silly Hound content 🌙

"Oh, have a cock do you?" The Hound snorts.

"I do, it's massive. Bigger than your's even."

To Bronn and Tyrion's surprise...the Hound giggles. "Let's see it then."

The sound of rustling blankets through the wall.

"No, he's shy," Lady Alice says. "Knock it off, you're scaring him!" She giggles.

The sounds of wrestling.

"There's no cock here-"

Alice yelps but it turns into a moan.

#anyways my oc who romances the hound is a menace #my writing #sandor clegane x oc #sandor clegane x reader #the hound #the hound x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #smut #asoiaf #tyrion lannister #ser bronn of the blackwater #sandor x lady alice #lady alice #sance #bronn #fanfiction #humor #fluff #rory mccann #original post

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Yay your requests are open again!! :) if you are still doing game of thrones requests. Could you possibly right about some of the characters defending you against any disrespect or question of your character?

I love this request! Thanks so much for sending it in! 

Jaime - Jaime would fight to defend your honor. Not necessarily to the death but he would make a huge show of fighting in your place to make sure that no one ever disrespects you again. He knows you’d be scared to defend yourself so he’s happy to do it for you.

Sandor - Sandor would kill any man that dares disrespect you. He wouldn’t bother to talk or negotiate with them. The moment that a disrespectful word about you comes out of their mouth he’s slicing their throat. He would make sure you’re never disrespected again. 

Petyr - Petyr would engage in a battle of wits with whoever is stupid enough to talk badly about his girl. He would always wins as his opponent is woefully underprepared in terms of intelligence. Petyr would end the fight with a grin, knowing he’s defended you well. 

Jon - Jon wouldn’t want to start a fight over it. He would know that it’s for the best to be the better people and walk away rather than fighting about it. Of course he’d want to fight for you but he thinks it’s best to leave the whole situation alone and be with you instead.

Robb - Robb would start a fight with anyone that disrespects you. He wouldn’t want to do permanent damage to your verbal assailant but he would definitely prove that he’ll come to your aid every time. He would be sure to give you lots of praise and love when he’s done.

Tywin - Tywin wouldn’t personally kill whoever it is but he’d make sure that they disappear for good. He’d never want you to have to face them ever again. Anything that brings you discomfort or unhappiness has no place in your world. So he makes them go away. 

Bronn - Bronn wouldn’t give a shit about the person that disrespects you. That’s not to say he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t care about their opinion. He’d much rather spend time making sure that you feel loved and taken care of than fighting someone he doesn’t care about.

Jorah - Jorah would immediately usher you away from whoever it was that disrespected you and shower you with love and affection. He would want you to completely forget about that person so that all you can remember is his undying adoration and love for you. 

Ramsay - Ramsay would happily torture the person that disrespected you. He would make you sit and watch as he tears them limb from limb so that you know that he’ll always defend and take care of you. It’s his sick twisted way of showing you that he adores you.

Stannis - Stannis is a king. No one disrespects his girl and gets away with it. However he is also a just king. He would throw them in a dungeon to spend the rest of their days rotting away, thinking about the way that they disrespected you and facing the consequences.

Oberyn - Oberyn would get so pissed. You’d have to hold him back to keep him from stabbing the person that disrespected you. However, he wouldn’t because he knows it would displease you. No matter what he wants to make sure that you’re happy and taken care of.

Dany - Dany would be completely enraged. She would bring the guilty party before her and she would have her dragons burn them to death. She would never want to have to look on that piece of garbage again and she wouldn’t want you to have to either. 

Brienne - Brienne wants to be the bigger person. She would end up giving the person one swift punch, knocking them out with a single hit. That would be the extent of her rage and then she would lead you away by the hand, giving you a kiss and telling you she loves you.

#game of thrones #game of thrones preferences #game of thrones x reader #jaime lannister #sandor clegane #petyr baelish #jon snow #robb stark #tywin lannister #bronn of the blackwater #jorah mormont #ramsay bolton #stannis baratheon #oberyn martell #danaerys targaryen #brienne of tarth

[yell0ws0ul]

Ser Bronn of the Blackwater could do unimaginable things to me AND I CANT BELIEVE THAT THERE ARE SO FEW FANFICS OF THIS HANDSOME, SEXY AND FUNNY MAN

I WOULD DO ANYTHING IN MY POWER TO GET HIM HIS CASTLE IF THAT MEANT SOME ALONE TIME WITH POOKIE😻🤭

Go and write fanfic's ya'll...

GYAT DAYUM😻😻😻🤤 That should've been me right there...😔

#ser bronn of the blackwater #ser bronn #bronn #bronn x reader #game of thrones

[depends-on-the-sellsword]

playing with fire || bronn

you and bronn get bored on guard duty, and you're both idiots who like a challenge. minor tw for fire, and minor self-harm. (but in an idiot-who-played-with-fire way not a depression way) no major spoilers.

Masterlist

-----

"Bronn."

You nudged him. As Tyrion's two sellswords, you two often had to sit around with nothing to do, guarding the outsides of doors that nobody even wanted to get in. Today was one of those days.

"Bronn."

Bronn ignored you, continuing to stare at the wall. You briefly considered leaving him alone, he'd had a bit too much to drink last night, and he could get snappy when hungover. But honestly, you'd rather get snapped at than keep sitting here in silence.

"Bronn."

Nothing.

"Broooooonnnnnnnnnnnnn."

He twitched, but otheraise showed no signs of acknowledgement.

"Bronn," you poked him, "Bronn."

Another slight twitch, but nothing more. You'd have to up your game.

You took a deep breath. "BronnBronnBronnBronnBronnBronnBronnBronnBronnBr--"

"THE FUCK DO YA WANT?"

Success. You grinned at him.

"I'm bored."

"You're also obnoxious."

"I know, thank you."

He just grunted and stopped looking at you.

"Oh come on, why are you so pissy today?" You crossed your arms.

"The better question is why aren't you? We woke up an hour ago, I'm hungover, an' we've gotta sit here and guard this fuckin' door for who the fuck knows how long." He groaned, pushing a hand through his hair. He really did look hungover. You once again considered leaving him be, but having nothing to do was killing you.

"Exactly, we have to wait out here forever, we might as well have fun." You shoved him gently, careful not to jostle his head too much, gods know it was probably pounding. "C'mon, why not play a game with your very favorite person?"

You stared at Bronn, making the stupidest sad-eyes possible. He looked over at you, then cracked a smile.

"Fine, but I get ta' choose the game." He said. He smiled wickedly, and you couldn't help but grow suspicious. Still, anything was better than sitting out here in silence.

"Fine. I'll beat you at anything, i bet." You stuck your tongue out. Bronn nodded, stood, and started back in the direction you'd come from.

"Hey, what're you doing, we still have to guard the door, dipshit!"

"Relax, love, ill be back in three minutes. I need something for the game."

Bronn returned exactly three minutes and twelve seconds later. With a candle and matches.

"Take off your bracer."  He said, sitting back down on the floor next to you.

You did as he said, albeit hesitantly. He did the same, then took your bare forearm and put it against his. Eyes widening, you watched as he placed the candle across both of your forearms, and struck a match.

"Sure you still wanna play, love?" Bronn smirked at you.

You smirked right back.

"Yeah, and I'll kick your ass."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn ya when ya lose." Bronn lit both ends of the candle, and the game began.

This was a game you grew up playing. Variations of it, at least. Not in this manner before, but other tests of prolonged pain tolerance or fear. You'd seen how many kicks to the shin you could take, how high you would jump from a tree, how long you could stay in the woods at night. And you had won. A lot.

Then again, this wasn't your average village kid that you were facing. This was Bronn, the only other person in the world that would do this kind of shit for fun past the age of twelve. And fire was uncharted territory for you.

It burned. Obviously it did, it's fire, but the sensation of burning was much more unpleasant than you'd originally expected. You suddenly felt stupid for underestimating fire.

Bronn must have seen you wince, because he raised a brow.

"What, are ya scared, love? Haven't played with fire before?" He snickered.

"You think I'm scared of a candle? I've been to the Eyerie. I would think you'd be smart enough to know that it takes more than a candle to scare me."

"Good. I'd be dissapointed if you lost so quickly."

You grinned, but it was interrupted halfway by a hiss of pain, a hot bead of wax dripping onto your skin. But you did not move your arm. It stayed firmly pressed against his.

You'd grown up playing and winning games of chicken, but you were used to it looking like a group of scrappy teenagers kicking each other in the shins. This version, though? It felt almost intimate. It was just him and you, your bare arms pressed together, and the candle flickering in the wind of your breath.

Bronn's arm twitched a little, as the burning wax met his skin, and you weren't doing much better. You clenched your teeth and forced your arm to stay put.

You found yourself staring at him. To distract from the pain, you told yourself. His sly eyes, his many-times broken nose, his stupid, smug smile. You'd never really looked at him like this before, really looked at his face and took in his features.

He was looking at you, too, you noticed. Staring, really. His arm pressed against yours a little harder. The candle flickered. The wax dripped. His eyes burned into yours.

This was no longer just a test of pain tolerance.

---

Bronn stared you in the eyes, biting his lip to stop from grunting as he felt more wax drip down his arm. He hadn't expected you to last this long. Longer than most, sure, but for this length of time? Maybe this wouldn't be such an easy win after all.

He watched you hiss, feeling the usual smug superiority he always did when he was winning. And yet, he hoped that you'd hold on for a little longer. This moment was to be savored.

Chances to be physically close like this, to feel bare skin on his, were rare. Save for screwing around with whores, but he hadn't done that in months. And that wasn't the same feeling as this, anyway. In a world where everyone walked around in armor, this contact was a rare luxury. This was a very strange and painful way to experience it, granted, but it was a luxury nonetheless. And even moreso because it was you.

This chance to look you over, too, to really stare at your face, without getting a whack in the head and a 'what're you lookin' at?' was a rarity. In truth, he found you quite beautiful, even if he'd never say it out loud.

And you were so close. All he'd have to do is lean in.

And he would've done it, if the door hadn't slammed open right at that fucking moment.

---

"What the actual fuck are you two doing?"

You whipped yourself away from Bronn, and he from you, sending the candle flying. Tyrion looked down at you from his spot in the elevated doorway. You looked up at him from your very unprofessional seat on the floor.

Tyrion looked at you, and then at Bronn, and then at the red on your arms, and then at the candle, which was now sadly rolling along the corridor, and then back at you and Bronn.

"Are you shitting me?"

"We were bored!" You protested. Bronn just shrugged.

"So you set yourselves on fire?!"

"It was his idea!"

"Hey, you're the one who kept botherin' me 'til we did something!"

Tyrion groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You two have got to be the worst guards I have ever met. Get up, we still have work to do."

You pulled your bracer back on, hissing as the tough leather scraped across your raw, burnt skin. Now that you weren't distracted by Bronn and the determination to beat him at something, you were feeling the pain a lot more. You got up anyway.

"Don't make that face, I'm not feeling sorry for either of you. You quite literally did this to yourselves." Tyrion said, starting back down the corridor, you and Bronn close behind.

"Next time, I'll beat you. As long as we don't get interrupted again." You nudged Bronn in the side.

"Wouldn't count on that, love."

---------------

the sellsword's taglist: no one here yet!

bronn's taglist: no one here yet!

(ask to be added to taglists! 'the sellsword's' is for all of my works on this account. Each character ive written for also has their own separate taglist, if you'd only like to be notified for certain characters.)

#asoiaf #asoif/got #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #bronn of the blackwater #bronn #bronn x reader #reader insert #the sellsword writes

[plaidpyjamas]

I can't explain it, but I feel like Benjen, if he ever met him, would just not at all like Bronn.

#maybe Benjen would like him but only if Bronn left Benjen's s/o alone #benjen #benjen stark #bronn #bronn of the blackwater #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #tbh I'm just thinking about my poly nights watch group and somehow Bronn wormed his way in

[pinkykats-place]

Sandor Clegane x Reader Insert Fics

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

Stories and Gif are NOT mine.

Some contain mature content.

Readers are mostly female.

Note: if you read and enjoy any of these stories - please like, leave a comment and/or reblog original post!

In the North

Summary: they had a relationship before they had to part ways and so they get reunited when reader is sent with Jorah by Daenarys to get a white walker, Beric and Thoros is in disbelief that Sandor can be able of loving someone

Love?

Sandor Clegane x Stark!Reader

Opposites Attract

Sandor Clegane x fem!reader

The Kennel Master’s Daughter

Sandor x female!Reader

Sandor Clegane x fem!nurse!reader

Warnings: none it's fluffy

Summary: Back at the time when Joffrey was king, the king's guard got into a fight with the people of flea bottom ending up with many of them injured including Sandor Clegane himself. What will happen when out of all the nurses only Y/N is brave enough to help him?

A Hound Will Die For You But Never Lie To You 

Trigger warnings: NSFW, swearing, all the usual Game Of Thrones warnings.

Rating: M (It jumps right in there so if that’s triggering for you I’d suggest skipping it)

Summary: Imagine being the one to gentle the rage inside Sandor Clegane.

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Reader (gender neutral).

Everything

Summary: A little drabble about Sandor’s feelings for the reader.

Scarred

Summary: Request from anon: I have a request! Sandor/Reader where the reader is being really lovey with Sandor and kissing him everywhere and she kisses his scarred side and he pushes her away but eventually gives in because she’s persistent that she will kiss him there and that he doesn’t have to worry because she loves his face.

An unexpected scene

NSFW Fic

Angered Beasts

Request: Hi can I request a drabble where the reader is one of joffreys playthings, like sansa is, and she runs into the hound after a beating? Something a little fluffy, please x

Warning: Mentions of violence and slight blood, female reader

Bathing in a tub with Sandor - drabble

Last Night

Fem!Stark!Reader

Request: Are requests still open? If so, please could I request a Hound x Stark reader where they confess their feelings for each other before they fight the Night King?

Good Dog

Warnings: Spoiler!,Fluff, swearing

Summary: Reader is found in the snow 

Hounds and Gingers

Summary: a short, fluffy imagine

An Urgent Confession

(female reader)

Summary: A little story about the reader reminiscing of a moment between her and Sandor 

A Hound’s Jealousy

Just a short little jealous!Hound request

Warnings: jealous Sandor, handsy guy

A Good Punishment

Summary: a handmaid is given to the King’s dog

Another Drink

Summary: rough smut with Sandor after he’s sees you with Bronn

Meeting at Winterfell

Summary: Imagine being a Stark and meeting Sandor Clegane at Winterfell

Imagine Sandor realizing that Tormund has a crush on you

Jealous Sandor…

Sharing a Bed with the Hound

Awkward Fluff!

To Break the Spell

Summary: Beauty & the Beast au

Imagine it’s you who Sandor takes away from Kings Landing during the Battle of Blackwater Bay

Series: More Than Our Servitude

Sandor Clegane x Fem!Reader

Summary: You lived your life as one of the washerwomen of the Red Keep, only seeing the Hound in passing. Still, when the madness of the Battle of Blackwater erupted, he came for you. The Hound is weary from battle, but you try and soothe what little you can.

Our Family

Sandor x wife!Reader

Summary: Sandor enjoys spending the day with his wife and son

His Queen

Sandor x female Reader

Sandor is soft with joffery’s wife

Sandor’s Secret

Sandor x fem!Reader

Summary: Sandor has a secret hidden away from everyone.

Series: Fox and the Hound

Sandor x Reader

Summary: Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Secret Wife (female reader)

Based on this request:  Can you do something with Sandor secretly having a wife. Maybe they met when he was serving king Robert and they met when she was hunting and eloped after a few years. She left before the battle of Blackwater because Sandor didn’t want her getting wrapped up in that so They meet again in Winterfell and no one can actually believe it.  

WITH THIS ADDED: Sandor and reader in a somewhat secret relationship. Tormund keeps hitting on reader in front of Sandor and finally his jealousy gets the better of him and he makes a loud declaration of their love. 

#reader insert recommendation #game of thrones x reader #sandor the hound clegane #sandor x reader #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane imagine #got x reader #tumblr recommendation #tumblr fic rec #game of thrones fic recs #fic recs #the hound #hound x reader #arranged marriage #secret wife #tumblr fic recs #fic rec #game of thrones #got

[house-strong]

༄࿔ dragon’s breath & lady’s lace

summary ; drabble requested by anon as part of my 1k follower celebration.

“romantic confession #6 with Jacaerys?”

"6. are you really so oblivious?"

pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x reader

notes ; the place is similar to where jaime and bronn train secretly after jaime loses his sword hand.

jacaerys had tried every trick in his book to capture your attention, yet nothing seemed to be working in his favor.

he tried escorting you around the castle, sitting by you in the commonhall, and even going as far as arranging meetings in the pavilion near the jeweled gardens of the red keep. you, however, always took these actions as nothing more than a friendly endeavor – a command whistled by his mother.

he decided he had enough of playing games.

“where are you taking me?” you demanded, jace’s fingers gently enclosed around your wrist. it’s tight enough to keep a hold on you, but not to the point where it would hurt you. you’re stumbling after him, desperately trying to catch up to his long, quick strides.

“you will see – be patient,” he responds back to you, a toothy grin parting his lips as he turns back for a moment to glance at you. there’s a coat of pink dusting his cheeks. what was he blushing about?

you give an audible groan, much to his amusement, and instead take a moment to observe your surroundings while he drags you along. you both are in the royal gardens, surrounding by tall hedges of flower walls and white, marbled sculptures that look aesthetic. you pass a three-tiered fountain, with a leaping fish atop, and it sputters out spouts of water, delighting any watcher. the hedges soon grow thicker, with more twists and turns.

the sea salt spray of the ocean becomes increasingly noticeable and the waves crash against the rock wall with thunderous booms. you’re both going down steps now, his hand leaving yours as he steadies himself down the uneven gravel of the path.

“careful now,” he shouts, his voice almost cracking under the weight of the sea waves. the path in front of you morphs into clarity and the vast, blackwater bay blossoms like a flower beneath the green foliage. there’s seagulls flying, squawking out their cries over the gulf.

it’s breathtaking after you take the last few steps out of the vegetation.

“it’s magnificent, isn’t it?” jace says, his voice light and ringing with the bell of excitement. he’s rubbing his hands together for warmth and pulling his dark doublet closer to his body. he teeters over to the edge of the stone lookout, leaning over the parapet cautiously. “luke and i were exploring the other day, and we ferreted this.”

he turns his head and grins at the sight of your slack jaw, the color of your face rapidly warming at the cold winds that slap your face. your hair is wildly flapping against the seawind despite the bonds that secure your hair, your eyes squinting slightly.

under your breath and silenced by the roar of the sea, you mutter, “wow.”

“i wanted to share it with you,” he says, moving closer to you and guiding you closer to the stone parapet. you’re in between two dragon gargoyles, their wings outstretched with their mouths gaping. “it’s meant for those special to me.”

your brows furrow slightly.

“special?” you echo, turning your head to take a look at his face. he’s watching you carefully, his bottom lip being sucked into his mouth as he thinks over his next words. he’s less than a patient man, but he doesn’t want to scare you off. “what do you mean special, jace?”

he laughs slightly, out of nervousness or at your ignorance, “are you so oblivious?”

he looks down at your hand, which is resting on top of the half-wall, and places his on top. the skin is warm, despite the few abrasion that adorn the palm. it’s warm and inviting, a shawl of adulation settling over your shoulders.

“you’re special to me,” he starts. he bites his lip and chews on it, unable to find the words to release his torment. “i–” jace pauses, and in a sudden burst of frustration, “i like you, more than friends.”

there’s pure harmony and bliss that explodes in your stomach, sending your body into a pleasant euphoria. you laugh, the sudden reminder that you’ve been unknowingly declining every advancement he made. he chuckles alongside with you, but he’s not too sure what you’re both supposed to be laughing at.

your hands raise to cup his cheeks and you move forward to place a chaste kiss on his lips. he’s instantly dumbstruck, his cheeks illuminating with another, darker pink hue.

“i thought you wanted to friends.”

his brows furrow and he snorts out something akin to a chortle, clearly amused with the miscommunication, “no, i want to be much more than that.”

with a noise of delight coming from you, jace moves forward to place a kiss of his own on your lips. you wrap your arms around him and return the action.

he wants to stay like this, forever.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon blurb #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd blurb #house-strong 1k celebration #my writing

[minsyal]

The Great Stone Knight, Pt. IV

Sandor Clegane x Reader

Warnings will remain vague and be for the work as a whole as opposed to each part individually: violence, death, assault, my shitty characterizations, explicit language, sexual content (will be noted), and having too good of a time reading this.

Masterlist

Dear father, 

I continually fear for my safety here in Kings Landing. Please send a new escort. Ser Lorric has been killed. I am alone now as the sellswords have been dismissed by the Lannisters. I beg you to ensure my safe return.

Princess (Y/n) of Antonia, Lady of the Hill

~*~

Dear father, 

I have not heard back. It has been weeks. I require a new escort for my return. 

Princess (Y/n) of Antonia, Lady of the Hill

~*~

Dear father, 

I want to return home. Please, send for me.

Princess (Y/n) of Antonia, Lady of the Hill

~*~

Harrowing and draining as it was, you persisted. Many letters were drafted and sent to your father, or anyone in your homeland for that matter. Power, it was all those who populated Westeros thrived to gain. Their desire to rule was unlike any other; if it meant killing family, they would surely do it without question or reason. A new country on the western border would only benefit them as winter approached with a steadfast ferocity. The Princess simply fell into their hands by the grace of the old gods and the new. 

You walked the halls, joined by Clegane who seemed unaffected by your circumstance. He continued on with his mundane life of smirks and snide remarks. After all, he was sworn to the king who sat atop the Iron Throne and he would do as they commanded. 

“Lady (Y/n).” The sound of Tyrion’s voice had you raising your guard. The unbreakable walls burst from the ground below you, encasing you in an invisible shield. Despite his calm and welcoming demeanor, he was still a Lannister. The same blood coursed through his veins and those of the boy who commanded the death of your knight. “You’re in good company, better now that I have arrived.” 

Slowing your step, you moved beside Tyrion with his guard and Sandor following closely behind. “I do hope the Hound is treating you well.” 

“Yes, Sandor is lovely company, my lord.” Deciding to throw a passing glance to your rear, you caught the haughty eye of the man who seemed to be attached to Tyrion’s hip. He was older, likely close in age to Sandor. The wrinkles of laughter extended from his worn eyes, displaying years of amusement in one form or another. Whether it was from the bowed kick of his legs or the hands that stayed firmly attached to the buckle of his belt, you could tell he was a flirt. “It seems you’ve brought company as well.” 

“Indeed, I have.” Tyrion’s voice fought against his stature, booming in a way that his presence did not. “One cannot simply stroll about without protection. Lady (Y/n), this is Bronn of the Blackwater. Bronn, Princess (Y/n) of Antonia.” Bronn gave you a wicked grin as he musically bobbed his head from side to side and let out a humph. “My lady.” He greeted grandly, overdoing his bow in a way that you had only seen commoners and suck-ups do in the past. The confidence he oozed was like thick suffocating water in your lungs.  

A melancholy sigh forced itself from Tyrion’s lips, sweeping into the air and disappearing as if it had never happened. “I do want to extend my deepest condolences for the death of Ser Lorric.” The mere mention of his name made the hurt return as your mental barrier perpetually fortified itself; the masons hurried their efforts, working around the clock to keep your façade strong. 

“Some knight he was.” Sandor scoffed beneath his breath. His words were said with such little volume that you questioned whether Bronn had even heard him. From the aloof look on his face, you were sure he hadn’t, far more focused on the way your dress hung from your hips. 

There was an attempt, you thought. Tyrion was the one Lannister who seemed to hold an ounce of humanity in his breadth, at least of the ones you had met. But he was a Lannister, nonetheless. He did not truly care; he was only doing what was best for his family – looking out for their interests. Currently, their interest should lie in keeping Antonia from waging war against all of Westeros.

“Ser Lorric served my family for thirty years. He was my personal guard since air first touched my skin. I spent more time with that man as I grew than I did with my own father or mother.” Your steps beat harshly against the yellowed stones of the walls, threatening with each clack of your heeled shoe to send streaks of crumbling cracks through them. Fire burst from your heart, you spoke in a calm rage, addressing Tyrion directly. “Lord Tyrion, I do hope you can understand that this drastically puts my intentions of uniting the lands in a negative light.” 

After a short staccato of a moment, concentrated contemplation crossed his features and fled as fast as it appeared. “I understand.” He finally said, the gears in his head turning intensely. “Well. I must depart, but should you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.” 

Turning to fully face you, he gave a short bow and your typical words of departure, followed quickly by Bronn who decided to leave you with a wink and a grin. 

“Some knight?” You swiftly turned on your heel and faced Clegane, the mental walls falling around you as you tore them down brick by brick. His face held the same look it always did, unchanging and uncaring of your sudden rage. “He is a loyal man who served his country well.” 

“Was.” He corrected. “He let little Meryn Trant kill him. Any boy whore could kill three Meryn Trants. Your fucking knight spent his nights in Baelish’s brothels when he should have been stationed at your chamber door.” 

“I will not have you speaking ill of a man I admired for my entire life.” 

“Then what’ll you have, girl?”  

He leered forward, bringing his face down to settle above yours but leveled all the same. The distance between your bodies was mere inches. The creases of his eyes appeared as he narrowed his eyelids and hardened his features; he decided to pair this with the slight snarl of his upper lip. Pure white anger flowed through every nerve in your body as you made a sudden decision. Your palms pressed firmly against the chain breastplate of his chest, giving the hardest push you could. The entirety of your body’s weight was put into that shove, and yet he didn’t even budge. There was no stumble, no balancing step backward, not even the sway of his body. Enraged further, you broke the contact of your hands, drawing them quickly back to your sides in balled fists and retreating down the hall in the opposite direction in which you were originally heading. 

The doors of your chambers were within sight in short time, and you wished nothing more than to lock yourself away for the rest of the day. It was incredibly tiring, the way your body wanted to slack and your shoulders wanted to slump. But you would not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you mourning. You could not let them win. Throwing the door open, you didn’t spare a moment before you pushed it closed and turned the lock. 

Slowly, the sun split the horizon in two as it descended below the vast landscape with a short promise of return after the moon performed its show. Handmaidens came frequently with food, knocking and trying the door handle before turning away in their many attempts to serve you a proper meal. A dark shadow laid at the split of the door, unmoving from the moment you turned the lock. Every now and again, you could hear the faint sound of armor shifting or the slight grumble of a complaint as his legs filled with static. The iron windows of your room had been drawn shut and sealed with a chain, as per the orders of the King. 

There you remained. As you felt the catatonic whispers of the night deepen, so too did the suddenly loud walls. The bricks and stones spent hours in conversation, discussing the past at length as they relayed every moment you had spent in the room back to you. They cast shadows of a dead man who leant against them, arms crossed and smile proud. Murmurs of castle gossip frolicked through your ears; echoes of petty scolding bounced off the ceilings. 

The once warm steaming basin of water at the back of the room was now frigid with stale water. All of the water’s warmth had long since cooled from the bath you had taken in the morning. You didn’t dare to slip in for a quick wash for you feared the water would solidify on contact, freezing you in place. Instead, you chose to lay down atop the expertly crafted blankets that were piled high on the bed. Your head found a feather pillow, sinking deeply into its silken casing. The night begged you to allow yourself to sleep, and so you did. You dreamt of better times, of better company, and of a better future to come. 

“Father!” You walked with purpose through the hall from your chambers, straight into his where he sat at an ornate antique desk. A scrawl of hardly read scrolls laid out across his desk, many discarded in favor of more important subjects. Your father sat with crescent glasses perched on his nose, his hair wild from a sleepless night. There hadn’t even been time to break your fast in the morning. No, there were much more pressing matters at hand. “Lorric refuses to let me train with him. He is out in the yard with all those silly boys who can’t even pick up a training sword, and he won’t let me go too.” 

“Actually, I’m inside now.” Lorric’s voice took you by surprise as he patted a firm hand on your shoulder, giving it a slight shake and a squeeze. “It’s not my choice that you’re not being trained, little lady.” 

“Then who?” You demanded. 

“That would be my choice, (Y/n).” Your father set his glass quill aside as he earned an unamused glare from his unwavering daughter. “I’ve given you many freedoms that many ladies do not get in our society. You sail, you ride, you certainly do not talk like a lady in most circumstances.” He chuckled. “Fighting is something I will not argue on, you will not do it.” 

“Because of what society wants?” 

He nodded. 

“Then change society, not me. You’re the king for god’s sake!” 

You stormed from the room like a tsunami, one sudden burst of energy as you retreated down the hall deeper into the castle. “She’s a spitfire.” Lorric said to your father as he sighed and set off to find the smoldering princess before she lit the whole castle on fire. 

With the rising of the sun came rays of glittering light reflecting off the sea. The light waltzed through the iron laced bars that held the windows closed, fighting through the shadows that cast themselves over the intricate beds lining in a war of day and night. You woke to the eerie peaceful lull of birds chirping in the distance, singing loudly over the morning rush that hummed from the city below. 

Empty voices carried downward through the hall, speaking of nothing in particular. Women chattered together as they made haste to their duties as handmaidens to the other ladies and lords of the Red Keep. Their shrill giggles could be heard swaying through the courtyard below as they spoke freely with one another - unchained by their master’s watchful eyes. Outside your door stood the same imposing figure that had been there the night before. You could once again hear the shifting of his armor, the grumbling of his breath, and the steps as he repositioned himself upon static legs. 

“My lady.” A small knock came to your door as you rubbed the crusted sleep from your hazed eyes. “I am here to prepare you for the day.” The voice continued as you begrudgingly stepped from your bed to the door, unlatching it and allowing her inside. Sandor caught sight of you before it closed, taken for a moment by the mess of your hair and unchanged clothes he had seen you in the night before. 

“I’ve brought honey and lemon cakes and autumn pears.” There the same young handmaiden who had been serving you since you arrived said, laying a golden tray down on the bare dining table. “Allow me to draw you a bath, my lady.” 

“Thank you.” The cakes were all delicately decorated with shavings of herb and rind, leaving a sweet aroma of sickly sweetened goods lingering in the air. You plucked a blackberry from the top of a honey cake, bringing it to your lips. The sour taste of earth and sugar exploded in your mouth as you bit through the seeds. Splashing water could be heard from the back of the room as the girl emptied the musty basin and replenished it. Water flowed freely through a viaduct that was then transferred into a pot that boiled viciously above a smoldering fire. Moments later, she returned to the room and clasped her hands in front of her body. “The bath is cooling, my lady.” 

Only acknowledging her comment with the nod of your head, you leant back in your chair. “Have you broken your fast?” You asked suddenly to the surprise of the maiden. Her widened eyes softened as she gave a small shake of her head from side to side. 

“No, my lady. I will eat later when you are prepared for the day.” 

“Nonsense,” you motioned for her to join you at the table and kicked a chair out slightly with a rather unladylike move. “Please. It would be rude to deny a lady’s request.” You noted, more to encourage her to eat with you. Without a word, she sat at the table. 

“Which do you favor?” 

She focused on the options in front of her, not expecting you to give her a choice of what she would have. Without argument, she answered, “I quite enjoy honey cakes, my lady.” 

The cake had a spongey texture, bouncing pleasingly as you lifted it from the serving tray to a spare that had been brought along. It held its shape well, jumping right back into place as if on cue. The handmaiden continually failed to wipe the look of confusion from her face, slightly elated at being served instead of serving others, but also worried that perhaps it was all some sort of strange trick. You took a lemon cake for yourself, breaking pieces from its sides to eat. She followed, politely taking small bites of her own.  

“What’s your name? I’d much prefer to call you by that.” You covered your mouth as you chewed. 

“It would be improper, my lady.” 

“I suppose I’ll just be improper then.” 

After a second of hesitation, she answered “Lillianya, my lady.” 

~~~*~~~

“The little lady leaves her chambers.” Sandor narrated as you emerged cloaked in a velvet dress of blood red sent by Cersei. The color was harsh against your skin, overpowering your being instead of complimenting like your Antonian garb did. It was also far heavier, feeling as though they had added secret weights to the hems and seams. 

“The big man stands outside her chambers.” You retorted. The hair even felt wrong. It had been divided into two parts and then divided many more times to form the traditional southern style that Lorric had described as a ‘birds’ nest.’ Braids trailed their way up from the middle of your head to sit high above like a headband usually would. The rest was twisted and laid across your shoulders to fall down your chest. 

“The King requests your audience today.” Sandor said, falling into stride with you as you directed your body toward the throne room where he was surely holding court. 

“For what purpose?” 

“For whatever purpose he damn well pleases.” 

Arriving in the throne room, you were greeted by a sea of eyes. Each pair was trained diligently upon you, picking apart every fiber of your being like vultures. They judged the way your hair looked, the dress you wore, and the choice of guard the king assigned you. Joffrey splayed himself upon the throne like he had the first day you met more than a month prior. His pointed elbow ground into the throne’s armrest, his leg was kicked open, and the crown of gold sat awkwardly on his greased head. 

“Lady (Y/n),” Joffrey’s shrill voice cut through the heavy air of the room. “Come.” Ser Meryn Trant held a conceited smirk on his features as you approached with Clegane trailing at your stead. His upper lip was crimped as mischievy rollicked in the depths of his deathly hazel eyes. Hesitating at the bottom step was all he needed to approach and give you a forceful shove in the shoulder with the palm of his hand - leading you up the steps to stand before the King. Joffrey kicked his leg from the throne and withdrew a crumpled scroll of parchment from where he had pocketed it. The delicate stamp of a purple seal was broken on the page, the handwriting that strikingly resembled your father’s peeked from the rolled paper. “Read.” He commanded. 

Taking the paper from his fingers, you delicately unraveled it and looked over the words, unwilling to believe what you were seeing. It was a mistake, you thought. A mistake, perhaps, or more likely a fever dream concocted by the insane boy that began to tower of you as the flicker of your eyes said all that needed to be said. 

“Out loud, Lady (Y/n).” He chastised, tsking at you with the wave of his dismissive hand. 

A warmed breath filled your aching lungs; the stagnant pungent air of the Keep fermented inside. The gods of fate spun your string in their malicious fingers, savoring the contempt that leached from your body like a black ooze of a lethal poison. Your stomach jumped to your throat and then to your feet, unsettled by the revelation that laid in your palms. 

“To the King of the Seven Kingdoms and his council.” You started, focusing on the midnight ink that flowed into words that you refused to believe your father wrote. “We are pleased to hear of the arrival of our princess and company. After the discussion of your offer for unification, the men of our small council would like to extend our offer through the hand of Princess (Y/n) Belross of Antonia. She is,” you stopped, breathing deep and ragged as you attempted to keep your composure. The words that followed were not foreign to you, but to read them coming from your father was like another blade being dragged through your already aching heart.  

“Go on.” The boy king demanded in an eased tone. 

“She is still innocent. This will strengthen both of our kingdoms for many years onward. I will send an advisor to aid in any wedding plans in the coming year.” Joffrey’s pompous look could stand in the place of a thousand words. He won, he thought, still bobbing his head. “This is falsified. My father would never cast me out in this way.” You crumpled the parchment and tossed it to his feet. This earned you no points with the guards that already hated you, they watched with brutal eyes for your next move.

“You are questioning a king’s words? Even when they’re from your own blood.” Joffrey spat; glowing rage painted across his reddened features. 

“I refuse to believe it.” The toe of your shoe ground the paper into the stone at his feet. 

“Believe it.” He dangled a small coin of purple and silver wax in front of you, stamped with your house’s crest that he had kept from your gaze until now. There was only one stamp that could form an imprint like that, and it laid on your father’s desk in his study thousands of miles away. “You belong here in Kings Landing now, Lady (Y/n)… So, who shall it be?” He professed with a self-congratulating grin, most pleased that you chose to hold your tongue instead of forcing him to order it be ripped from your body should you speak against him again. “You are far too old for dear Tommen, that and I don’t think you’re worthy of him. Martyn or Willem? Perhaps, someone loyal to the crown? The Dog? Ser Meryn? ...No,” he debated himself, proudly continuing his monologue in front of the small audience, “they cannot marry for they’ve sworn themselves to me, the King. I believe it possible that we unite our lands through you and any man loyal to my name.” 

Joffrey grasped your hand and twirled you around to face the audience of the room. You could feel the sparks of thought from his body as he pressed his back into your shoulder. “Who better than Gregor Clegane?” The lids of his eyes widened as he snapped his fingers twice and pointed it at you. “The Mountain! Yes. That would be a perfect pairing. We will have to start calling you ‘The Hill,’ after all you are the Lady of one. You’ll be the lady of two before the year’s end.” 

The Mountain’s name came to be a dark cloud of ash that never ceased to loom from your head. As you passed people in the halls, his name would grace their lips - Gregor Clegane. The Clegane brother had earned himself a title worse than that of the one that stood behind you. He was taller, bigger, and more sinister in his intentions to others. You’d seen him once, but he quickly disappeared to fight at Tywin Lannister’s side in the war.

“Are you scared?” Sansa was at your side the moment you left the throne room on weary, but firm, feet. In the weeks since Lorric’s passing, she had spent much of her free time in your chambers or at your side. Much that left her mouth was still considerably carefree for what the girl had endured. She still held hope for a fairytale ending to her grim life. She would tell you stories of her siblings and life in Winterfell, insisting that you must visit sometime in exchange for stories of Antonia - to which you insisted she visit as well. She was a kind girl, far too kind for her circumstances. “I don’t know what I’d do if I were betrothed to the Mountain. I’ve heard stories.” Her arm tangled in yours. “He once tore a man in two with his bare hands for bringing him the wrong wine... I’ve heard that- “ 

“Sansa.” You tensely interrupted her, patting a gentle hand to hers. “Have you eaten?” 

“Not yet.” The smile that formed on her lips as she spoke sent winds of calm coursing through your body. She was so young, still so jaded to the world around her. 

“That solves it. Come, let us have tea in the garden.” 

As selfish as it was, Sansa was happy to hear that you would remain in the Red Keep. For she finally felt as though she had met a true lady. She could relate to you on several levels, most being your shared love of feminine virtues. While you strayed far from what women traditionally partook in, you were raised by the Queen – your mother – who managed to instill these ideals upon you before you took off to journey the lands. 

“What are the knights like in Antonia?”

“Well,” you watched pleasantly as the woman who followed Sansa walked around the garden, noting the way she avidly avoided Sandor who was stationed within speaking distance of the two of you, “our knights are lovely men. In fact, there are many stories about the knights of Antonia.” Sansa had a bite of lemon cake, which she insisted were her favorite. “Women tell tales of the Great Stone Knight.” Her curious eyes enlarged as she listened dearly and you reveled in the moment of peace after such news was bestowed upon you. “When he was a child, the young man met a lady of one of our great houses. He instantly fell in love with her beauty and wit. She was known as the winter flower of our lands, her hair was of fire, and her eyes of ice.” 

“Like me.” Sansa smiled gently, her puffed cheeks pulling upward. 

“Yes, in fact, this lady greatly resembled you. Just as kind and poised for a noble home.” You breathed a sigh. “But she was betrothed to another, a man with a bad reputation among the people of Antonia. She cried and begged her father to allow her to marry someone else, but he continually denied her of a unification from love.” 

“Did they end up together?” 

“They did, but not with ease. She was stolen away in the night, her betrothed plucked her from the castle and set off for his home country which lay 10,000 miles from Antonia. Upon hearing the news, the young man took off with nothing but the clothing on his back, his broadsword, and horse. When his horse gave out, he traveled on foot, not stopping once as he followed his heart. He traversed a great distance, going many nights without sleep and many days without food.”

“Did he save her?” 

“Eventually. It was her wedding day, his love stood before a crowd with tears of sadness in her eyes as she faced the man she did not love. She thought back to the knight who held her heart, closing her eyes, and hoping for him to save her. She prayed to the gods, all of them, any that would listen. She begged them to return her home as she longed for her family and more importantly, the knight. Suddenly, the doors burst off their hinges with the force of a thousand suns. There stood the Stone Knight, tired and weary from his travels, but determined to make his heart whole again.” 

“Did they release her?” Sansa’s interest was growing with each word; she leaned forward expectantly. 

“No, not without a good fight. The Stone Knight challenged the man to a duel, a single fight to determine the fate of the Lady. They fought atop the castle with the wedding’s audience now turning into one of their own. The Stone Knight wielded his sword, and wearing no armor, he was the first to attack. The other man threw him from the roof to another terrace below and thought he had won. But the knight persisted, he climbed the wall and attacked the man as he gloated, quickly wrestling his weapon from his grimy hands. The two struggled for power; one was not willing to give into the other as the princess was the finest prize in the land. She watched with fear in her eyes, she prayed for his victory, and just when things were looking bleak, the wall of the castle gave way.” Sansa gasped, leaning back in her seat. “The stone swallowed everyone. Many lives were lost, but when the ash cleared, and the sky illuminated the wreckage… there stood the Stone Knight with his stolen princess encased in his strong grasp. They both lived without a single scratch to their bodies. The Knight and the princess shared an everlasting kiss and disappeared into the sunset. Rumor has it that they married and lived in a small seaside cottage until their last days.” 

“That’s so romantic.” Sansa swooned at the story of the Stone Knight, wishing dearly that her life would end up like the winter flower’s. “Do you think,” she timidly opened and lowered her voice to the point of a whisper, “that I’ll have my own Stone Knight someday?” 

“I do.” You took her chilled hands in your own and rubbed your thumb to the back of her shaking fingers. “I know that you will have a brave and handsome knight someday, and perhaps you’ll be the one saving him instead.” 

“(Y/n),” Sansa snickered, “me? Saving a man? I simply do not see it.” 

“Perhaps not now, but you’re strong. I’d say, just as strong and willful as the Stone Knight.” 

Sansa left soon after your story finished with a belly full of lemon cakes and a heart full with your tale. She dreamt of the Stone Knight, wishing for a man like him to come for her one day. Her handmaiden had given you a sweet smile, nodding her head as she followed behind the young winter flower. 

“That story wasn’t true, was it?” Sandor finally spoke, his gaze trained on your face as you watched Sansa disappear into the gardens. 

“No. There’s no such knight in Antonia.” 

“Then why’d you tell it?” 

“Sandor, believe it or not, we all need something to hold onto. She has been ripped away from her family and watched her father die. She deserves a shred of hope, we all do.”

Tag List (lmk if you want to be tagged):

@madameasbjorn @yaskna @xakilicious

#Sandor Clegane X reader #Sandor x reader #sandor clegane #sandor clegane imagines #game of thrones x reader

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Sword for Hire Chapter 2

Bronn x reader

Word Count: 1078

Summary: A fight in the woods and a new face

The sound of clanking armor set your teeth on edge. These men were better prepared for a fight than you, certainly; their plate would go far to protect them from any attack you might level on them, especially since you were still lying on the ground. Your hand tightened on your sword. Beside you, Pig the workhorse-turned-warhorse nickered softly in displeasure.

“Ssh, boy,” you muttered, eyes not leaving the leader that was still eyeing you up.

Honestly, you were impressed the soldiers even managed to find your camp. It was small, but then again the dying fire still would have been quite noticeable in the late evening light. Encounters like this were the hazard of being a woman who chose to traveled alone.

Behind the leader, there was still idle, jeering chatter coming from the accompanying soldiers.

At their suspicious yet still lustful gazes, you slid to your feet. You made a show of keeping a grip on your sword, but at the same time you kept the tip on the ground, using it like a walking stick to stand. Slowly, you kicked some dirt on the fire, smothering it. In the process, you buried the rabbit you hadn’t had the chance to finish eating; living through this likely fight took precedence though.

The horses the men were leading by the reins shuffled in discomfort, as if they could feel the rising tension between the humans they had to accompany.

“What’s a lady like you doing all the way out here?” another man asked. Much like the first, his accent was distinctly Southern. You spotted the lion crest on the shields that hung from the horses’ saddles.

“All alone?” came a third’s voice.

“I’m not a lady,” you informed them calmly. “I’m just a poor tavern girl passing through on my way to the next town. Work’s a bit hard to come by, you know.”

You could see the fourth man’s eyes track from the sword in your hand--now held still downwards, but no longer brushing the forest floor--to the large, black horse that was staring at them hatefully from your side. “How did a poor tavern girl afford a sword like that? Doesn’t look like cheap steel.”

“And why do you have a sword at all?”

“It was my father’s,” you lied easily. “He was a blacksmith; made it for himself. Bastard got himself killed the first time he used it. I thought it’d be useful in case I ran into someone unsavory on the road.”

“And you’re looking to repeat history?” One prodded, an ugly leer still on his face. 

You felt your nostrils flare in irritation. “I think I’ve learned how to handle myself.” You should bite your tongue to keep it from wagging. You should really stop talking. You should-- “At least better than you cunts can.” Shit.

The sounds of metal sliding filled the air as the men all pulled their swords on you.

“Lads,” the leader spoke like it was a religious proclamation, “seems to me like this lass needs to learn some respect.”

You raised your blade fully. “Good fucking luck.”

The next several minutes were an unfortunately difficult fight for your life because the Lannisters had this annoying habit of making sure their armies were as effective as possible. By the end of it, you had at least one cut on your legs and your nose was gushing blood down your face.

They were lying dead all around you.

You tipped your head back, sword held limply at your side as you panted into the evening air.

Clapping sounded from behind you like you were a knight that just won some tourney.

You whipped around, sword held aloft once more as you readied for another fight with whatever soldier you hadn’t seen in all the chaos.

“Easy, sweetheart,” a man said.

He wasn’t one of the Lannisters, that much was obvious the second you laid eyes on him. Unlike the elaborate plate armor of the soldiers around you, he wore black leather that seemed to bring out the bright blue color of his eyes in the dwindling light. His sword (and at least one knife that you could see) was still strapped to his waist rather than in his hand. Oddly, he seemed to have no horse or supplies. 

“I’d have stepped in, but--”

“Who are you?” you demanded.

“Bronn,” he answered easily, not moving from his place leaning against a tree. “Before you ask, I was after these cunts. They pinched my shit while I was drunk a few nights ago, and I wanted it back.”

You snorted in amusement and let your sword arm fall once more. “Maybe you should be more careful.”

“Ah, but then I’d have never run into you.” His eyes trailed down your form, eyebrows raising in apparent appreciation which reminded you unfortunately of the dead men around you.

“I’m not a whore.” Not anymore, at least.

“Don’t have to be a whore to enjoy a good time,” he said conversationally. “Do us a favor and duck, would ya?”

“What--” you started to ask before really registering what he’d said. Then, you dropped to one knee as quickly as you could. And, yeah okay, maybe you understood his want for a ‘good time’ with you after watching him casually pull another, previously unseen knife and throwing it directly into the neck of a soldier that seemingly hadn’t been as dead as you thought.

He looked at you expectantly after the face. “Why do you say?” he asked, offering his hand to help you up.

A surprised laugh bubbled up uncontrollably from your throat. You accepted his help. The blood on your face was drying and starting to itch. “Bronn, was it?” you asked by way of answer.

“The one and only.” He gave a sarcastic little bow.

You replied with your own name. “I’m afraid I need a wash before I even think about taking you up on your generous offer.”

A scoff left his lips as he yanked his knife out of the soldier’s neck. “A real man doesn’t mind a bit of grime.” He eyed the cut in your thigh. “But we should probably patch that sooner rather than later so you don’t pass out on me. And there just so happens to be a river about a mile that way.”

“We?” you teased.

“Ya haven’t turned me down yet, so like fuck am I letting a woman like you get away.”

#bronn x reader #bronn of the blackwater x reader #bronn of the blackwater imagine #bronn imagine #game of thrones imagine #got imagine #reader insert

[broken-ghost]

Inbox is Open for Requests! 

I typically write female reader out of habit so if you would prefer gender neutral or male reader please specify and you got it !

Fluff, Angst, Smut, I’m open for anything.

All requests welcome but if you are looking for prompts here’s the Latest Prompt List: First Kiss Prompts

Masterlist

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Fandoms/Characters I write for:

Stranger Things: Jim Hopper, Dmitri Antonov, Joyce Byers, Murray Bauman, Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Billy Hargrove, Alexei Smirnoff

Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit: Thorin, Thranduil, Legolas, Elrond, Boromir, Kili, Fili, Bofur, Aragorn, Celeborn, Bilbo, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir, Eowyn, Arwen

Obey Me!: Lucifer, Diavolo, Mammon, Beelzabub

Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul: Hank Schrader, Lalo Salamanca, Nacho Vargo, Jesse Pinkman, Howard Hamlin, Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman

Game of Thrones: Jamie Lannister, Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Jorah Mormont, Sandor Clegane, Tormund Giantsbane, Stannis Baratheon, Bronn of the Blackwater, Gendry Baratheon, Jaqen H'ghar (This is the only fandom I’m open to writing character x character pairings in so feel free to send those as well)

The Boys: Homelander, Queen Maeve, Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy, Mother’s Milk, Frenchie

Squid Game: Seong Gi-hun, Cho Sang-woo, Hwang Jun-ho, Sae-byeok, Jang Deok-su, Salesman, Front Man

The Hollows/Rachel Morgan Series: Trent Kalamack, Rachel Morgan, Ivy Tamwood, Algaliarept “Al”, Rynn Cormel, Stanley Saladan, Kisten Felps, David Hue

#fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #the lord of the rings fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #Tolkein FanFiction #obey me fanfiction #better call Saul FanFiction #breaking bad fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #the hollows FanFiction #the hollows reader insert #squid game FanFiction #squid game reader insert

[amorevolousfaith]

Chapter 1: Curiosities Within The Pride Lands.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader x Slight Elllaria Sand

Rating: 18+ (MINORS BEGONE)

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: Explicit language, cannon violence, Decapitation, mentions of rape, mentions of murder, murder, allusions to sex, smut, Dilf energy, Milf energy,

Summery: It doesn’t take a scholar or royal adviser to figure out the invitation the Royal Wedding in Westeros has some underlining conditions. Not that it matters to you or your son, the opportunity to go to a country so far away that impressions wouldn’t do much to your reputations is just too good to pass up. And who better to live that thrill to the fullest than with the Red Viper of Dorne.

I turn my head in all directions, taking in all the new sights of this place called Westeros. “Empress! The banner is in sight!” The commander calls, “At attention men, let's make a good impression.” I chime while sitting straight in my sattle. As the caravan comes up the dirt road the great city of King’s landing comes into view, the city looking near golden in the noon sun.

Upon reaching the goal of the lion and stag banner we are met with three men and a troop behind them. “Greetings my lady, I welcome you to King’s Landing in the King’s name. My lord father, the king’s hand, and the Lannister family welcomes you as well. I am Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock, Master of coin.” The small dwarf man chimes out. “Greetings from Jaenna, your Grace. I am Empress (y/n) of Clan DragKoi.” I smile. “Forgive me your Grace, I did not know you were of royalty. However, I must correct you by saying Your Grace is a title only used to address royalty in this part of the world.” The man informed me kindly. I hum nodding along to what knowledge the man has to offer.

The man glances over the caravan behind me, “Forgive me, again, but I do not see your husband The Emperor.” He addresses, “My Son, The Emperor…” I start turning my head only to let out a sigh. “Mori, my little dragon, please present yourself.” I call out when I notice my son no longer at my side. The party in front of us is startled as my son appears suddenly, his speed unmatched by anything these people could possibly understand. “Forgive him—” I pause, “You may address me as Lord.” Tyrion provides, “Forgive him Lord Tyrion. He acts more of a devoted Shinobi rather than Emperor.” I sigh out.

“And what would a Shinobi be, if you don’t mind my asking?” He questions, “I believe your people have something called the King’s Guard. Warriors who serve the King, correct?” I guess, Tyrion nods, “Shinobi are skilled warriors who serve the throne. Some may even call them assassins.” I quip. Tyrion looks over to Mori, “Your son must be a very skilled ruler then.” He flatters, “I take great pride in him.” I affirm.

“I must once again ask for your forgiveness, your Grace, but we are expecting another party today and they have yet to arrive. My men will gladly escort you to your quarters, I’m sure you’ve had a long journey.” Tyrion prompts, “My, are all the people of Westeros as apologetic as you, Lord Tyrion?” I smirk. “If I were to be honest with you I’m afraid I would ruin ties before they can even be forged.” He answers. I grin at his response, “You can take the caravan, I’d like to see more of Westeros but not unguided by you. I'd like to wait if that's alright.” I chime. “If you so wish, your Grace.” He agrees, “Lovely, My son may choose to do what he pleases, but if I had to guess you shall be staying with the other Shinobi?” I muse over to Mori. Wordlessly he nods his head, “The shinobi will be with me as well as my son, will that cause an issue?” I question the lord. “No, your grace it will not.” Tyrion nods.  

I signal the caravan to follow a small group of men into the city, “And may I have the names of the two men here?” I question. “Ser Bronn of Blackwater a hired hand turned knight and Podrick my squire, your grace.” I hum nodding my head in greetings, “If I may be so forward, your grace?” The Squire asks. “You may,” I allow simply, “What happened to your husband?” He question. A smirk curls to my lips as I see Tyrion cringe, “I killed him.” I muse gently, “I beg your pardon?” The hired hand chokes. “My husband, the Previous Emperor, I killed him,” I repeat simply. “Dare I ask why?” Tyrion questions, “Dare as you may Lord Tyrion, but if you must know he raped our daughter.” I answer coldly. The three men seemed to seal their lips shut, but I’m not done. “So I cut off his head and hung it on the castle walls.” I chime with a smile.

“I assume your daughter is in much better health now that he’s dead.” Tyrion tries to remedy the tense air, “I’d hope she would be.” I hum softly. “I don’t follow,” Tyrion mumbles, “She killed herself out of shame, my people take their honor very seriously Lord Tyrion. There aren’t many ways to repair one’s honor once it’s been tarnished, oftentimes it’s reclaimed through death.” I inform sternly. “How gruesome.” He mutters, “I agree,” I laugh. “But it is the way of my people, it’s not easy to change tradition.” I shrug simply.

“May I ask a question?” I prompt, “Of course your Grace,” Tyrion nods. “Who exactly are we waiting for?” I question, “The people of Dorne your Grace, we are expecting the lords and first prince to arrive very soon.” He answers. “Dorne?” I test, “Sounds lovely,” I smile. “I’m sure they would agree, your Grace.” Tyrion nods. “It seems to me the smart place to meet travelers is in a tavern, that way if one party is late the other can drink ale inside.” The hired hand calls out, “This is the Prince of Dorne we’re waiting for, not one of your sell sword friends.” Tyrion informs. “Mercenaries always do have the simplest solutions,” I chime in with a smile, “Thank you, your grace.” Ser Bronn calls back.

“If he’s so damned important, how come they send you to meet him?” Ser Bronn questions, “There’s bad blood between the Martells of Dorne and Lannisters of Casterly Rock. Has been for years.” the dwarf informs. How peculiar, “And just in case the Martells of Dorne are looking to spill some Lannister blood it might as well be yours, eh?” He quips, “No need for cynicism, I happen to be an accomplished diplomat.” Tyrion chides. “Might I ask why your family sends you, when there are chances of blood?” I question, The hired hand snorts, “Your Grace if I informed you on such matters you would still be here long after the wedding.” The dwarf sighs.

I let out a small hum, “Ah, here we are.” Tyrion announces clapping his hands to gather the other men. I look out to see a caravan of many banners, I didn’t bring the noble houses with me, perhaps I should have. “Can you read the sigils?” Tyrion questions his men, I watch in amusement as the hired hand squints his eyes, “Yellow balls?” He guesses.  A small laugh slips from my lips, “Wild Lemons on a purple field, House Dalt of Lemonwood.” The squire corrects. “A vulture grasping a baby in it’s talons, House Blackmont. A crowned skull, the Manwoodys of Kingsgrave.” He continues to list off, “Boy knows his Dornish houses.” Tyrion complements, “A strong mind is equally important as the steel of a sword.” I smile to the man.

“I need a sigil,” The mercenary chimes in, “and House Martell, a red sun pierced by a spear?” Tyrion questions, “I don’t see it m’lord.” The younger man answers. “That can’t be good.” I chime, “No it is not your Grace.” The dwarf sighs as the caravan of nobles get closer. “Well met, my lords. His Grace King Joffery welcomes you in his name. My lord father, the king’s hand, sends his greetings as well. I am Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock, Master of coin.” Tyrion introduces. There’s a long pause and the caravan turns their attention to me, “Ah, Empress Mother (y/n) and Emperor Mori of clan Dragkoi from Jaenna.” Tyrion quickly introduces. The stoic men quickly cast their eyes over me, Mori squaring his shoulders and holding his head high.

“It’s a pleasure to become known to the land of Dorne, Not many engage with our country so please forgive us if we offend in anyway. We sent our party ahead because I simply couldn’t resist the chance to meet people of such an enticing country.” I spoke smoothly, “Anyone with innocent interests of Dorne is welcome, your Grace.” The leader nods. “Forgive me, I do not see Prince Doran in your company.” Tyrion quickly cuts in, “The prince’s health forces him to remain in Sunspear. He sends his brother, Prince Oberyn, to attend the royal wedding.” The leader informs. I quirk my eyebrow over to Tyrion as he takes a moment to take that in, “Yes, the King will be delighted to enjoy the company of a warrior as renowned as Prince Oberyn at his wedding feast.” Tyrion buffs over, “Will he?” The Dornish man questions doubtfully. “I too would like to meet this warrior,” Mori chimes in, “This is a wedding Mori, we do not start fights.” I remind whimsically. “I’m sure Prince Oberyn would welcome a challenge from a foreign ruler.” The man comments.

“Where is prince Oberyn?” Tyrion questions bluntly, “Arrived before dawn, not a man for welcome parties.” the Dornish man answers. I laugh escapes my lips and I hurry to cover my mouth with the sleeve of my Hanfu. “Forgive me, he sounds like a zestful man.” I wave off, “Believe me your grace, you have no idea.” The dornish man smirks, “How peculiar.” I chime in return. “Very well. My lords, these fine men from the city watch will escort you to your quarters.” Tyrion calls only for the men to start riding past him, “You must be weary after a long journey.” He continues with a dying voice.

“If you don’t mind my asking, who is this Prince Oberyn?” I question softly to the party of three, “Prince Oberyn Martell is the second Prince of Dorne, popularly known as the Red Viper for his mastery of the spear and poison.” The squire informs. “He’s also known for fucking half of Westeros.” Tyrion informs gruffly, a grin curls onto my lips, “How interesting, perhaps you may get your fight after all little dragon.” I muse over to Mori. “With all due respect your Grace, I must insist you follow the others to your quarters.” Tyrion urged, “Don’t be foolish, what better way to see the city than with your entertaining party of three.” I smile.

“So where to now?” The hired sword questions, “We must find Prince Oberyn before he kills someone or several someones.” Tyrion answers. I nick my horse to follow after the men, “My Shinobi are the best finders the world has to offer.” I chime out. “Your shinobi can search a whole city?” Ser Bronn questions, “They can, but if Lord Tyrion may have some information to offer we can find him quicker.” I inform. “Your famous for fucking half of Westeros, you're just arrived in the capital after weeks of bad roads, where would you go?” Tyrion questions sarcastically, I smirk at his tone and takes me a second to realize just who he’s talking to. “Your Grace—” he starts in a panic, I hold my hand up, “yobidasu!” I call.

All at once ten men appear from various places, The three other men jump as they are suddenly surrounded, “I wouldn't.” I chime to the squire and hired hand as they reach for their swords. “Find the Dornish Prince, look in the brothels, and once you find him report back to us, IKU!” I command, at the sound of my final word they were gone, along with my son. “Your Shinobi? Are they for hire?” Tyrion questions, “Not individually, but I do grant liberates to those favor.” I muse. “Noted.” The dwarf nods.

We only just reached the city when Mori appears back on his horse, “Mother, we’ve found him. A brothel runed by a man named little finger, there’s a woman with him, they’ve rented an entire room for the day.” Mori informs, “I know of the brothel he speaks of.” Tyrion calls. “My I was right, quite a zestful man. Good job little dragon, gather back the Shinobi and meet us at the brothel.” I coo sweetly, “Of course mother.” Mori nods before he’s gone again. “Shall we men? I’d hate to get there and find Prince Oberyn too deeply swallowed in his activities.” I muse nicking my horse forward.

Tyrion leads us through the streets where we arrive at the brothel, the squire is so kind as to help me off my horse and dust off the red silk of my Hanfu.  “Your Grace, I beg of you to stay here and wait.” Tryon pleads, “With due respect my lord I think you and I both know I’ll only ever be in this country once in my lifetime. I plan to live it out to its fullest.” I grin stepping up the stairs, careful not to catch the silk of my Hanfu. Tyrion rushes ahead of me and demands the Prince, I watch as we’re guided to the room only to hear a scream. Our small party then hastily made our way in that direction.

“Prince Oberyn, please forgive the intrusion we heard there might be… trouble” Tyrion starts but slowly dies as he enters the room only for a yell to silence him completely. I gasp at the sight of gushing blood from a man’s hand, “You Grace please cover your eyes,” Tyrion warns. A laugh slips past my lips before I could stop it, “I’ve seen much worse Lord Tyrion.” I smirk. “Apologies my love,” the Dornish Prince calls to the Dornish woman in his company, I quirk an eyebrow as they come together, not an inch as space between them as they lock lips. “Your grace, I beg of you.” Tyrion pleads weakly, another laugh vibrates from my throat. “Once again lord Tyrion I’ve seen worse. Although your pleas do make me wonder how very boring Westeros might be if they find shame in such displays of gore and pleasure.” I hum.

“I’m here to welcome you to the capital,” Tyrion calls, an amused huff slips past my lips as I walk further into the room, ignoring the couple as they continue to lock lips. “Ellaria Sand, my Paramor.” the man calls, “Tyrion Lannister, the King's uncle Imp.” He introduces Tyrion. “Who are you? His hired killer?” the Prince mocks, “It started that way aye, but now I’m a knight.” Ser Bronn nods. “How did that come to pass?” The Prince questions, “Killed the right people I guess,” Ser Bronn shrugs, the response pulls another laugh from me as I pour a red liquid into a cup.

“But you, you are foreign, unknown and drinking my wine.” The Prince calls over to me, I look up from my cup. “Is that what you call this? And if I may be so bold, I believe that this would be Lannister wine. I assume right given you spit the name like the venom of the title you possess.” I muse lounging back in a seat, “You’ve never tasted wine?” Tyrion questions. “I’m afraid not, we have something called Rye and Sake where I’m from. A sometimes bitter and clear liquid, but perfect if you want to have a night you’d prefer not to remember.” I quip before taking a sip of this so-called wine. “I must say though, this is quite delightful.” I hum, “You should taste Dorne's wine if you think this piss is delightful.” The Prince scoffs. “If you care to join us—” the man starts, “Prince Oberyn.” Tyrion warns.

I tilt my head to the side with a smirk at the man’s annoyance, “I must warn you to mind your manners.” Tyrion calls. “I’m a Prince, who could she be that requires my manners?” He scoffs, “Prince Oberyn, may I introduce Empress (y/n) of clan Dragkoi from Jaenna.” Tyrion introduces weakly. “If you would like to address me by my full title it's Empress (y/n), The Mother of Blood, The Beheader, The Blue Dragon of Clan Dragkoi.” I recall with a wave, “But I’m in a foreign country so I doubt my titles hold any power, just a warning.” I muse out. “I wouldn’t say that your Grace, by technicality you out rank all of us.” Tyrion informs, “Not true.” I quip with a sigh, “Mori, my little dragon, it’s rude to lurk.” I call out.

The room takes a step back when Mori makes himself known by the window, “May I present my son, Emperor Morizuka, The Great Shadow, The Silent Death, The Black Dragon of Clan Dragkoi.” I introduce. Mori shot me an unamused expression, “Please forgive him, he doesn’t prefer his title.” I smirk.  “Is he the Red Viper?” He questions, jerking his head over to the Dornish Prince, “Mind your manners Mori and ask him yourself.” I hum, taking another sip of my glass. “Are you the Red Viper?” He questions bluntly, I let out a long sigh, however the Dornish Prince smirks. “What would a little dragon possibly want with me?” The Prince questions, I narrow my eyes as Mori’s fingers brush his katana, before he could draw it I flick my wrist and a small blade shoots out from under the sleeve of my Hanfu. It lands in the wall but grazes past Mori's hand, “Mind. Your. Manners.” I warn slowly, the room seems to blink unknowing what just conspired. After a few seconds to catch up it seems the room’s eyes fell back to me as Mori removed his hand from his blade.

“I would apologize Prince Oberyn, but on account of your mocking of my son I will not. Normally I would not allow him to request a duel with foreign leaders, however, should he choose to duel you I will not stop him.” I warn slowly. The Prince looks over to me, eyes plunging black with want, it almost makes me laugh. “Prince Oberyn, may I have a private word?” Tyrion steps in, the prince pauses, “Ellaria, keep our guests occupied yes?” He chimes, flicking his finger between myself and my son. A smirk crawls to my lips as I lock eyes with my son. I don’t acknowledge anyone else until the door slams shut, at the sound my son moves as I stand to my feet, he bolts and throws himself out the window before I can reach halfway across the room.

“Why that dirty little—” I hiss throwing my hands up in frustration, “Your son is a strange boy,” Ellaria comments. “He is, but thank the gods he’s got a pretty face, half decent negotiation skills, and renowned fighting abilities.” I mumble, the woman laughs as I toss myself back down in my chair. “Mmm, I have four daughters and more I’ve claimed as my own, I know what it’s like to have a strange child.” Ellaria nods, “If they look anything like you, I bet they’re beautiful.” I smile. She nods, “They are indeed beautiful.” She agrees. “I had a daughter once.” I chime out, “What happened to her?” Ellaria questions softly, “Raped by the man who made her.” I sneer out, “And that man?” She questions darkly. The question made a sick smirk spread across my lips, “Beheaded and hung on the castle walls until he was nothing but a skull by yours truly. Now it rests above the dungeon entrace serving as a foreshadow of fate.” I chime sweetly.

Ellaira blinks, “So it’s true what they say,” an accented voice calls, I turn my head to see that The Prince has replaced Ser Bronn in the room. “I wouldn’t know, I only arrived mere few hours ago.” I muse. “That you execute the rapists of your country.” Prince Oberyn elaborates, “and will continue to do so until I can no longer swing a sword. Which will be a responsibility I shall then pass on to the new Empress to carry out.” I state firmly.

“I respect that, I have eight girls of my own. Four of them with Ellaria. To know this world has a woman like you to defend others brings a comfort to my heart.” The Prince confesses. “You have eight daughters?” I gasp in wonder, “Yes, they are all very beautiful and close to my heart.” He nods with a soft smile. “As they very well should be! Eight daughters, my, it sounds like such a wonder.” I sigh out blissfully. “I only have my son, and gods bless him he’s hopeless.” I moan out, “Does that have anything to do with the fact that both I and the Imp watched him jump out the window?” He chuckles. "Unfortunately,” I mumble, but then an idea forms in my head, “May I ask a favor of you?” I question.

The Second Prince of Dorne quirks his eyebrow at me as he falls back on the bed with his woman, “My son, Mori, he’s been of age for quite some time now, he’s been emperor just shy of less. I’m afraid he hasn’t found his taste yet, he hasn’t even tried in the very least to amuse me with the idea of finding a lady or a man.” I sigh. “After hearing of your, shall we say accomplishments, I think this is a perfect opportunity to request a bit of assistance.” I laugh, pulling a laugh out from the two as well. “As much as the boy loves me, I doubt he would like to share such things with his mother, so there isn’t much I’m able to do for him. The boy doesn’t have a father, and his mentor is a monk who believes pleasure should only be allowed for the creation of life.” I scoff, the two cringe at the thought of such a man. “Mori and I are more than likely only going to visit this country once in our lifetime, we’re not too worried about our impression on a country a whole sea away. Perhaps you and your lover could offer him some guidance.” I request.

“Are you asking me to help your son fuck or fuck your son?” The prince questions bluntly, “Which ever gives me the best chance at retirement and grandchildren.” I answer honestly. “You are still so young and beautiful, yet you worry about grandchildren?” Ellaria questions, “My time has come and gone, I wasted it on a man I killed and now I must live with that.” I spoke softly. Prince Oberyn scoffs standing from his place on the bed, “You are a young beautiful woman, an Empress no less, there should be no such thing for you.” He murmurs softly, easing his way to stand over me. I smirk up at him, sensing his advances, “Beware of what you seek prince, I keep those I fuck and you seem like to the type to run free.” I whisper up to him yet not at all yielding to the intimidating figure.

“Perhaps Prince Oberyn, I shall occupy your time again soon. Until then I must meet with the rulers of this land, I’m afraid I’ve let my curiosity occupy too much of my time for today. Best of wishes and do enjoy yourselves.” I smile standing from my seat and brushing past the prince. Outside my son is waiting for me along with the squire, both seemingly pouting. “Come now, it’s not becoming of men to pout.” I smile, “Your Grace.” The squire bows. “Lord Tyrion instructed me to be your guide.” He smiles sheepishly. “To our chambers then, please. I’m afraid I have business with royalty tomorrow,” I sigh out. The young squire nods before directing Mori and I to the castle.

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