#Brienne of Tarth imagines

[weemssapphic]

love ur writing! could you write something for brienne where she gets jealous/ insecure/ sad over trader spending time with other people who have a crush on her - feel free to do whatever you want with it

A/N: hi hello thank you for the compliment and the request! i feel the need to apologize profusely for how long this took me - i changed the plot like 10x along the way and getting it to flow gave me a lot of Grief hahaha. however i am finally happy with the end product and i did adore writing for my babygirl brienne. i hope you're not too upset <3

plot: You are Brienne’s closest friend, and friends don’t develop feelings for each other. They definitely don’t get jealous when their friend dances with someone else. Nope.

From The Moment We Met

Brienne of Tarth x f!reader

words: ~6.3k (big OOPS) | ao3 link in title

content/warnings: jealousy, slight angst, feelings confession, pining, mentions of alcohol and being tipsy, eventual smut (thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering), bits of fluff sprinkled throughout

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Brienne of Tarth didn’t know what to make of you. 

She was used to people taunting her - men calling her foul names, women gossiping about her. She was used to people challenging her, questioning her, attempting to overpower her.

What she wasn’t used to was women who beamed up at her with megawatt smiles and kind eyes, who held her hand as if it were the most normal thing in the world, who requested her company for even the most mundane of errands. 

Women like you - currently strolling into town, arm looped tightly around her own, greeting every person who’d pass by the two of you and introducing them to your friend Brienne. It was enough to fluster Brienne, who simply smiled politely and nodded at the various townspeople, less concerned with remembering their names and more preoccupied with the way your eyes crinkled at the outer corners when you offered them a smile, the genuine care in your voice when you asked how their families were doing.

The two of you reached the market, bustling with people, and suddenly Brienne felt a warm hand clasp her own. Almost as a reflex she attempted to pull away, but your grip tightened and you smiled warmly up at her. She felt her stomach flip pleasantly as she hesitantly returned the smile.

“I don’t want to lose you in the crowd,” you reasoned, and Brienne could have scoffed at that - towering above most of the townspeople, there was almost no way you’d be able to lose sight of her in even the thickest crowd. But the way your small hand fitted so perfectly in her own, the way you looked up at her with wide eyes, as if completely unaware of her beastly presence that she’d been so often tormented for, made her think better of it. Instead, her lips quirked up almost involuntarily into a half-smile and she nodded for you to lead the way.

You held onto her hand the entire visit, only briefly letting go to pay for some bread and some fruit and tuck it into your bag, then grabbing hold of it again. Her skin tingled where it met yours and her stomach filled with warmth as she allowed herself to be guided back through the narrow streets, up to your castle.

~~~

Holding Brienne’s hand felt so right. It was much larger than your own, sure, and slightly more calloused, but still decidedly feminine. Her long, slender fingers entangled between yours in a firm grip, the direct contact with her warm skin sending shivers down your spine. You much preferred holding her hand to anyone else’s, you thought with a smile.

When you reached the castle gardens, you tugged her gently towards a bench in a little alcove on the far side of the garden, shaded from the sun, then reached in your bag for the food you’d bought at the market.

“Help yourself,” you said, and Brienne gratefully took some of the bread, gently prying it apart with her fingers.

A silence fell upon you as you ate. You tried not to stare at Brienne, choosing instead to focus your attention on the gentle swaying of the flowers in the late summer breeze, though you found you couldn’t help yourself, involuntarily glancing over at her every so often. 

“Y/N?” Brienne’s voice cut through the silence.

“Yes?” You turned to face her, and found she was eyeing you curiously, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Forgive me for being so forward…” her voice trailed off.

“You may ask me anything you like, Brienne.” You shifted in your seat in an inconspicuous attempt to get closer to her, curious at what she could possibly want to ask that had her so on edge.

“You’re a bit… old, not to have found a suitor yet. I wondered why that is. Are the men who have courted you not your liking?” Brienne’s gaze pierced your own, her expression guarded.

You laughed - usually you’d avoided talking of suitors and courtships, so you thought it funny for Brienne to bring it up now.

“I could ask you the same thing. Are you not also a Lady who has yet to be married off, at your age?” You made sure to keep your voice light and teasing, watching Brienne carefully. It was because of this that you didn’t miss the way her face fell.

“It should be quite obvious why I haven’t found a suitable man,” she spat out bitterly. She hesitated for a moment, her voice softening at her next words. “The same cannot be said for a proper Lady such as yourself.” 

“It isn’t obvious to me,” you countered quickly, arching an eyebrow at the blonde, whose eyes widened. You could not for the life of you fathom how Brienne hadn’t yet been swept off her feet - sure, she wasn’t the most feminine woman you’d ever come across, but you found her extremely attractive nonetheless. How no one else could see that was beyond you.

Her incredulous gaze spurred you on. “I find you rather dashing, and anyone should be lucky to have you. If you haven’t been properly courted, then it should be through no fault of your own, Lady Brienne.”

The woman next to you was quickly turning scarlet at your words. 

“Anyway, my father thinks if he keeps throwing men at me, one of them will catch my eye,” you continued. “I don’t think that’s the case.” It was true - your father had been forcing you into courtships for as long as you could remember, and his disappointment when you - once again - declared another young lord thoroughly ill-suited was palpable.

Brienne cleared her throat, eyes darting around the gardens, unable to meet your gaze. “Surely one of those men must be suitable.”

“I don’t think any man is suitable,” you said confidently. Brienne glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, and you held her gaze.

Please understand me, you pleaded internally. 

“Don’t you yearn for the company of another? Do you really wish to spend the rest of your life alone?” Brienne furrowed her brows in confusion, lips pulled down into a soft frown.

You sighed, realizing you needed to be more direct.

“Of course I yearn, Brienne. I would love to share my life with someone. I just don’t wish for that someone to be a man.”

A myriad of emotions flashed across Brienne’s face in real time until, finally, comprehension dawned on her. Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline, lips parting slightly. 

“Oh,” she let out a breath.

“Oh,” you teased, chuckling at her reaction to your admission. You placed a hand on her knee, testing the waters, pleased when she didn’t pull away.

“Would you like to come to the tavern with me tonight, Brienne?” 

You could feel your heartbeat in your throat as you waited for a reply from the flummoxed blonde.

When she finally spoke, her voice was slightly hoarse. “Of course.”

~~~

Brienne was waiting for you at the castle gates that evening, clad in some of her lighter, more simple armor. She offered her arm to you as you approached and you beamed up at her, receiving a small, almost timid smile in return. 

Your fingers grazed over her chest plate. “Is armor really necessary tonight, Ser?” you teased, pleased with the way Brienne’s cheeks went pink.

“I didn’t want to be late by changing, my lady,” she replied softly. “My duties kept me quite busy this afternoon.”

“I tease, Brienne,” you grinned up at her. “Are you ready to go?”

Brienne nodded sheepishly.

You looped your arm around hers and the two of you set off towards town.

In the tavern you ordered ale for yourself and Brienne and settled next to her, closer than you normally would have - closer than you would have, had you not had that conversation with her in the gardens earlier. 

Your thigh pressed against Brienne’s and you turned in your seat, half-facing her, so that you could admire her fully. Brienne’s cheeks warmed under your gaze, and you decided right then and there that making Brienne of Tarth blush might be your favorite pastime in the world.

Both the conversation and the drink flowed freely as the night went on, and you were becoming quite tipsy. There was music being played, and the atmosphere was becoming more and more boisterous as patrons were getting up to dance, igniting a giddy excitement within you.

“I think I’m going to dance,” you announced, grinning up at Brienne, squeezing her arm.

Brienne smiled giddily at you, your energy proving to be infectious.

“Would you like to join me?” You prayed she would say yes, imagining how it would feel to have her body pressed against yours, to show everyone in the tavern that you were dancing with the Brienne of Tarth.

“I- I don’t think so, my lady.” Her cheeks turned rosy and she glanced nervously around the dimly-lit room.

Though you could understand the hesitation, your stomach dropped a bit nonetheless.

“Then watch me,” you replied, getting up and beginning to sway to the music until you found your rhythm. 

Brienne’s eyes were glued to your body, unable to tear themselves away from the sway of your hips. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the feeling of Brienne’s gaze upon you, but you felt truly free in that moment, confidence bubbling up within you.

You felt someone tap on your shoulder and stilled momentarily, turning to face whomever had interrupted your dancing. 

“Care to dance with me?” the woman asked, holding out a hand. You smiled at her, nodding excitedly. It was so much more fun dancing with someone else than it was alone, and the mood in the tavern was infectious.

You didn’t think twice about it when the woman’s hands landed on your hips, pulling you closer to avoid bumping into the other patrons as you danced to the beat of the music, losing yourself in the rhythm.

~~~

Unbeknownst to you, Brienne’s insides grew cold at the odd familiarity of the touch, the warmth of the smile spreading across your face, though she herself could not yet quite pinpoint the reason for her own sense of inner turmoil. It’s not like she could stake any claim over you. You were not hers, you were not anyones. And yet she found herself yearning for that soft smile to be directed at herself, for it to be her hands resting on your hips. 

Brienne was not one to yearn, not usually, yet she couldn’t help the wave of sadness that crashed over her entire being as she watched the woman lean over and whisper something in your ear, something that made you laugh. The woman, who was small and beautiful, who had the confidence to ask you to dance, who was everything Brienne could have been if she hadn’t been born in this wretched body; not a lady, nor a knight, but something in between - something far too beastly to catch the eye of a beautiful lady.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away, practically bathing in self-pity and loathing, as she watched you place your arms on the woman’s shoulders, as she watched the woman’s grip on your waist tighten, until it finally became too much to bear and she had to look away.

~~~

You could sense something was off when you left the tavern. Usually, Brienne walked so close to you that you could hold her hand if you wanted to. Now, there seemed to be miles between you.

“Brienne?” you started tentatively, chancing a glance at the blonde who stared straight ahead, lips turned down in a frown, gaze stony.

“Hmm?”

“Is something wrong? Did something happen?” You attempted to close the gap between the two of you, but Brienne pulled away.

“Not at all.” Brienne’s reply was curt, her tone clipped and professional, much like when you’d first met, before you’d become friends. Her change in mood was sobering for you, dulling your excitement.

“Did you not enjoy yourself?” You eyed her carefully, noticing how her brow furrowed.

“I enjoyed myself plenty,” Brienne gritted out.

You searched her face for any hint of emotion other than annoyance, but came up empty. With a sigh, you turned your back to her and continued the walk up to your castle. Brienne’s heavy footfalls followed you all the way to the castle gates. 

“I don’t suppose you’d like to come in?” You gave the blonde your best puppy dog eyes, praying she would take the bait. After an evening out amongst crowds of people, you craved the solace that Brienne’s company provided more than she could ever know. The apologetic smile that was creeping its way onto her face, however, made your stomach clench.

“Not tonight. I think we should both get some sleep.”

You frowned. “If you wish. Goodnight, then, Brienne.” You stared into her eyes for a moment longer, then, without thinking, brought your lips to her cheek. When you pulled back, you could see she’d gone pink.

Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your heel and disappeared behind the castle gates. If Brienne could be childish and avoid talking about what was bothering her, then so could you, you thought, your heart heavy as you left Brienne behind.

~~~

Brienne stood rooted to the spot for longer than she cared to admit, mind dazed.

Back in her chambers that night, her fingers trembled as she removed her armor. “Bloody ridiculous,” she murmured into the silence of her room as she fumbled with the straps of her shoulder plate. Brienne of fucking Tarth didn’t struggle with this sort of thing. Brienne of fucking Tarth was independent, self-sufficient. She’d removed her own armor every damn day since she could remember. And yet here she was, reduced to a trembling mess because of some woman. Worse, still, picturing this woman’s small, nimble hands covering her own, helping her remove her armor piece by piece. Then, perhaps, removing her clothing…

But it wasn’t right. It wasn’t proper for her to think of you in such a way, to want your lips to graze her own, or your fingers to touch her in places she’d never been touched by anyone else. She’d found herself thinking about this more often as of late, even allowing herself to succumb to her own desires and pleasure herself, moaning your name in the darkness of her chambers as she tipped over the edge.

Brienne had never met anyone as kind as you. Not just to her - to everyone. Your compassion extended to every being you came across, your face lit up every time you’d speak with someone - even exchanging the most boring of pleasantries seemed terribly important to you. But there was something in the way you’d hold Brienne’s gaze, the way you’d tug at her arm when the two of you were walking together, the way your face would light up like a sunrise when she’d come to visit you, that had Brienne hoping she could be someone special to you - particularly now, after what you’d admitted to her in the gardens.

And you’d kissed her - on the cheek, but still. That had to count for something, right? But it wasn’t her who had danced with you. It wasn’t her who had held you. You’d seemed to like that, to lean into her touch, to come alive as you danced with that woman.

Brienne felt the same wave of sadness wash over her that she’d felt back in the tavern, watching you dance with another. Now that she was alone, hot tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. She was so close to everything she wanted, yet it felt so unattainable. It didn’t matter. You could never feel anything for her - this night had proven that. 

Loneliness clawed at her chest as she finished removing her armor before slinking into bed and hugging her knees to her chest, stomach churning as she tried, unsuccessfully, to think of something, anything, but you.

~~~

The following day, Brienne’s duties kept her away from you until evening. When she called on you in your chambers after supper, there was an awkward silence hanging in the air between the two of you as she stood at your door. You wondered who would crack first.

Finally, Brienne spoke. “I apologize if I ruined your evening yesterday. It was not my intention to sour the mood.” Her tone was laced with regret, her eyes unable to fully meet yours.

You breathed out a sigh. “It’s alright. You didn’t ruin my evening, you never could,” you said softly, and Brienne looked at you curiously. 

Another tense silence followed.

“Brienne?”

“Yes?”

“I was hoping you’d like to join me for a while tonight? I really missed your company last night.” 

“I’m sorry for disappointing you, my lady. I… I would love to join you tonight.”

You nearly squealed in delight, opening the door to your chambers and beckoning Brienne to come in. Her gaze swept over your room, landing on your vanity. In a few short strides she had crossed the room and was examining the potions and powders strewn across the little table.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting company,” you worried your lip between your teeth, rushing to join Brienne. “Let me just clean this up.”

You busied yourself arranging the bottles neatly and putting the powders away in the vanity’s drawer. Brienne picked up one of the bottles, examining it carefully.

“What’s this one?” She looked at you in question and you couldn’t help but grin as a plan formed in your mind.

“Brienne?” Your voice was hesitant, but there was excitement and mischief swirling in your eyes, and the blonde felt her stomach flip. “I could tell you… or I could show you.” 

Soft little lines appeared between Brienne’s eyebrows as she mulled your words over in her head. “You don’t mean…?”

“I could do your makeup? But only if you want!” You looked at Brienne with pleading eyes and watched a war of emotions break out on her face.

“I-I suppose…” 

You beamed at her, buzzing with excitement as you tugged at her arm, beckoning her to sit on the stool in front of the vanity. She watched warily as you rummaged around for different sorts of potions and powders, before turning your eyes to her and regarding her carefully.

There was a particular scar just above her lip that your eyes got stuck on for a moment. You traced its path, committing it to memory. You didn’t know why, but it seemed terribly important that you remembered exactly how that scar looked in the soft evening light, as Brienne sat before you, waiting for you to begin. Oh. Your eyes snapped back to her own, which watched you questioningly.

“Now, close your eyes and hold still. No peeking until I’m done.” Brienne closed her eyes reluctantly and allowed you to take hold of her chin. You felt her shiver beneath your touch, and it brought a smirk to your face.

Brienne’s skin, despite being slightly scarred from battles, was fairly smooth and clear, so you opted to start with dusting pink, powdery blush on her cheekbones. Brienne startled as the brush you used tickled her face, and you chuckled, holding her jaw firmly in place. 

Next came a dark kohl around her eyes, which you applied lightly and smudged with the tip of your finger. Brienne flinched with every touch, causing you to laugh. “Surely a skilled fighter such as yourself isn’t afraid of a tiny brush?” Brienne grumbled, but did her best to stay still after that.

“Can you part your lips for me?” Brienne did as she was told and you painted them red, trying to ignore the way her warm, shallow breaths washed over your face, the fact that her lips were so close to yours, so easy to claim with your own.

You pulled back to admire your masterpiece.

“You can look,” you said, almost shyly, nervous what Brienne might think. She blinked her eyes open and looked in the mirror. Her face was unreadable for a moment as she tilted her head every which way, scrutinizing her own appearance.

“Well?” You waited with bated breath.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t like it…” Brienne started slowly, brow furrowing.

“But you don’t like it?” You bit your lip.

“I… I’ve never worn makeup before. As a girl I was too young and as a woman, well…” Brienne chuckled darkly, turning her face away from the mirror, away from you, but not before you could see the tell-tale sign of unshed tears glazing over her irises.

“Do you want me to take it off?”

“Please,” Brienne murmured, clearing her throat and glancing up at the ceiling as if willing her tears to get back into her head.

You fetched a clean rag and wet it in the basin in the corner of your room before kneeling before Brienne and gently stroking it over her face, wiping away all traces of your artistry.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out. 

“Don’t be.” You set the rag down and took her hand in your own, thumb stroking gently over the backs of her knuckles as you looked into her eyes. “I think you’re beautiful. With and especially without the makeup, I might add.”

Brienne scoffed in disbelief. “When I was a girl, my father held a ball. I’m his only living child so he wanted to make a good match for me.” She smiled wistfully and you squeezed her hand, urging her to continue. 

“He invited dozens of young lords to Tarth. I didn’t want to go but he dragged me to the ballroom. And it was wonderful. None of the boys noticed how mulish and tall I was. They shoved each other and threatened to duel when they thought it was their turn to dance. They whispered in my ear about how they wanted to marry me and take me back to their castles. My father smiled at me and I smiled at him. I’d never been so happy… Till I saw a few of the boys sniggering, and then they all started to laugh. They couldn’t keep the game going any longer. They were toying with me.”

The bitterness in her voice, the heartbreak written plainly on her face, cracked your heart cleanly in two.

“‘Brienne the Beauty’ they called me. And I realized I was the ugliest girl alive. A great, lumbering beast.”

You stood, rounding the stool Brienne sat on until you stood behind her. She tracked your movements in the mirror, face sullen. 

“Lady Brienne of Tarth,” you began, ignoring the heavy sigh Brienne let out at your use of the formal title. “You are a beauty in the truest sense. The most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.” You placed a hand on her cheek and gently coaxed her into looking in the mirror. 

“Look at you. The bluest eyes in all of Westeros, brighter than the seas surrounding the Sapphire Isle you call home.” You met her gaze, aware of the fact that she had gone pink and feeling your cheeks heat as well.

“Hair spun from gold,” you continued, carding your hands through her hair. “So soft, so beautiful in the way it frames your perfect cheekbones.” You rubbed your thumb across her cheeks, which were warm under your touch.

“The loveliest lips.” You let out a sigh as your thumb traced the curve of her jaw, brushing against her lower lip. 

A beat. 

A moment where everything slowed.

You leaned down, as if pulled by some invisible force, towards a stunned Brienne, your lips grazing against hers. They were just as warm, just as soft as you’d imagined them to be.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your breaths mingling. 

Another beat.

You pulled back as you waited for Brienne to catch up to you.

“Don’t be,” came her breathy reply.

You stared at each other for a moment, all the air sucked out of the room. Your heart was hammering erratically in your chest, pounding against your ribcage. 

“May I kiss you again?” You licked your lips, already leaning in.

“What about the woman in the tavern?” Brienne could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

“What about her?” You furrowed your brows, not quite following Brienne’s train of thought.

“You… seemed to really enjoy yourself.” She tried not to sound accusatory. Based on the utter confusion written on your face, Brienne realized she must sound ridiculous now, but she had to be sure of your intentions.

“Oh. It… was more about the dancing than the person, Brienne.” You hesitated, eyes wide, silently pleading with her to understand. “I would much have preferred it if it had been you.”

Brienne deliberated for a moment, eyes darting between yours. She seemed to have made up her mind for she lunged forward, lips crashing needily into yours. You moaned when her tongue swiped against the seam of your lips, parting them to allow her entry.

Your hands came up to her hair and you threaded your fingers in the golden locks, pulling her closer by the hair. The whimper that she let out shot straight to your core, a desperate heat traveling throughout all of your limbs.

Large, calloused hands gripped your waist, hard enough to leave bruises. Brienne pulled you down to straddle her lap, your front coming flush against the chest plate of her armor.

When you parted for a moment to catch your breaths, you gazed into Brienne’s eyes, your breath hitching in your chest at the overwhelming lust you were met with.

Testing the waters, you shifted your hips so that your core was pressing into one of her thighs and ground down. A breathy sigh tumbled from your lips at the newly-found friction on your aching clit. Brienne stifled a groan, capturing your lips with hers once more and flexing her thigh instinctively against your sex.

“Brienne… I need you,” you whispered between kisses, hand settling at the nape of her neck.

She pulled back slightly, eyes darting between yours. “I haven’t actually done this before,” she muttered breathlessly, face unreadable.

You couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto your face. “I haven’t either,” you confessed, cupping her cheek with your hand and tracing her lower lip with your thumb. You pulled at her lip, dragging it down, letting go and watching it snap back into place.

Everything was still for a moment as your breaths mingled. Finally, Brienne spoke, her voice gravelly with desire.

“I need you, too.”

You surged forward to claim her lips, rolling your hips against her thigh as a wave of wetness pooled between your legs at the low timbre of her voice.

“Can I see you?” you asked shyly, fingers playing with the straps of her armor. Her eyes widened a fraction and she nodded, a heavy flush overtaking her face as she brought her fingers up to the very straps you were playing with, brushing against your skin.

“I want to help,” you giggled, your fingers working in time with hers to remove each piece of armor, until only her soft underclothes remained. 

You reconnected your lips, pushing yourself into her and moaning as you felt Brienne flush against you, free from the hard, restrictive armor she usually wore.

Brienne’s hands cupped your ass and you yelped as she lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around her torso. She strode over to the bed and set you down, leaning over you, her lips never leaving yours. 

“These too?” you murmured, fingers brushing against the hem of her shirt before your hand disappeared underneath it, fingertips dancing across her bare stomach. Brienne pulled back, breathing labored.

You watched Brienne undress, drool practically pooling in your mouth as she exposed her bare skin bit by bit. You were struck by the rippling of her muscles as she removed her clothing, the little freckles on her shoulders, the scars and marks adorning her flesh from battles past. All of these little details you’d never been privy to before, when she was heavily clad in armor. She was even more breathtaking than you could have imagined.

You were suddenly itching to get out of your own dress, to feel her bare skin pressed against yours, and you rushed almost clumsily to slip out of the dress, causing Brienne to suppress a giggle.

“Stop laughing at me and come here,” you pouted, holding out your arms for the taller woman, who settled down next to you.

You pulled her in for a languid kiss, your palms tingling where they rested on the bare skin of her waist. You sucked Brienne’s bottom lip in between your own lips, sucking gently before biting down, dragging her lip between your teeth.

Brienne let out a strangled moan, her hands coming to rest on your hips and dragging you closer. Her skin was deliciously warm pressing against your own and you were overcome with the strongest urge to absolutely devour her. 

You placed a plethora of kisses down her throat, down her sternum, before reaching the soft, pillowy flesh of her breasts.

“May I?” You licked your lips and glanced up at Brienne, who gazed down at you, eyes dark with lust. “Yes,” she whispered breathlessly, her confirmation morphing into a whimper as you closed your lips around a rosy nipple, flicking your tongue over the bud and feeling it harden under your ministrations. You moved to her right breast, soothing your tongue over her other nipple until it hardened as well.

Moving lower, your kisses trailed down her stomach. You were fascinated with the way her back began to arch, with the trail of goosebumps erupting wherever your lips met her skin.

You settled between her legs, nudging them apart, hit suddenly with the heavy scent of her arousal which glistened between her folds. You placed a tentative kiss to her mound, nuzzling your nose into the blonde patch of hair at the apex of her thighs, breathing in her scent as your core tightened and a wetness pooled between your own thighs.

You kissed your way down, bypassing her clit and wasting no time in running your tongue through her folds, getting a taste of her. Your groan vibrated against her pussy, causing Brienne to buck her hips up as she whispered a soft “please”, begging to have you where she needed you most.

Your tongue found her clit and you began to draw lazy circles around the bundle of nerves, pleased with the breathy moans you were able to draw from the blonde’s throat.

“You taste so good,” you panted, looping your arms temporarily around her thighs to pull them over your shoulders, giving you better access to her pussy. You switched between licking and sucking her clit, seeing which reactions you could draw from Brienne as her moans grew louder, filthier, and the bucking of her hips became more erratic.

While your tongue ravished the sensitive nub, your fingers began to trace her slit, teasing her entrance. You slipped one finger inside her, surprised at how her walls clenched almost immediately around the digit. You added a second finger, slowly beginning to curl them. Your fingers hit a soft, spongy spot, and you smirked at the groan that slipped past Brienne’s lips.

With every thrust and curl of your fingers, you could feel her thighs tremble more and more, and you blindly reached your free hand out, searching until you felt her hand underneath yours, gripping at the bedsheets for dear life. You freed her hand from its iron grip on the sheets and tangled your fingers between her own, squeezing gently in reassurance. She squeezed back and suddenly her thighs tightened around your head, muffling her cries as you felt her excitement leak out of her and drip down your hand. 

Brienne clenched around your fingers as she writhed beneath you, and you continued to pump in and out of her as best you could as she rode out her high. Once her thighs loosened their grip on your head and her hips had mostly stilled, you began to lap up her arousal, cleaning off her folds and her thighs before crawling up to meet her in a sensual kiss.

Her breathing was labored as she wrapped her arms around you, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck. 

“Was that alright?” you asked, running your fingers through her hair and pressing a kiss to her hairline.

You felt her nod against your shoulder, a contented sigh passing her lips, her breath washing over your skin. The heat between your legs was growing with each second that Brienne’s fingers traced soft patterns on your hip and you pressed your thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the tension. Of course Brienne noticed this, stilling in her ministrations against your hip and gazing up at you through blonde lashes. 

Her fingers danced across your skin, moving lower until they brushed against your thigh. You gasped as her fingers found your slick - you’d touched yourself before, of course, but nothing could compare to the way Brienne’s long fingers were grazing against your folds, the way the pad of her thumb began to rub gently over your clit. It felt ten times better than anything you’d ever done to yourself.

Brienne’s lips found the pulse point on your neck and she began to suck, gently at first, then more insistently, until it was almost painful. Then her tongue darted out, warm and velvety, soothing over the spot she’d just marked. 

Her fingers brushed against your entrance and you bucked your hips up to meet her just as she slipped two fingers inside, causing you to cry out. 

“Does that feel okay?” Brienne’s voice, thick with lust as it was, was laced with a tinge of worry, and sapphire eyes sought yours. You smiled at her, thrusting your hips into her hand as you nodded eagerly.

“Y-yes,” you panted out. “You can- go- deeper.” Your words were cut off by your own moans as Brienne’s fingers curled inside of you, and she took your word for it, thrusting in.

Brienne’s fingers were long and slender, and they somehow expertly managed to hit every nerve-ending inside of you. You could hardly believe it was her first time pleasing a woman - or maybe you were simply that desperate for her, that she could unravel you within minutes, no matter how she touched you. No, you thought as she began to pump her fingers faster, the heel of her palm pressing into your aching clit. She’s definitely just that skilled.

Your thighs began to tremble as every feverish ministration brought forth a pulsating pleasure that rippled through your entire body.

What nearly threw you over the edge was Brienne’s decision to latch onto your nipple, grazing it with her teeth. You let out a strangled moan, arching your back as she nipped and sucked at the hardened bud, her warm tongue soothing over it after every tiny bite.

Your walls clenching around her fingers as you finally came drew a moan from Brienne’s chest and she thrust deeper inside of you. You brought your hands to her head, nails scratching at her scalp as you pulled her, as gently as you could muster in your orgasmic haze, up towards your lips to kiss her.

She pulled her fingers out of you, careful to be slow and gentle, bringing them to her mouth and closing her lips around the digits. Her cheeks hollowed out as she sucked, never breaking eye contact - it was the most sensual thing you’d ever witnessed, sweetened by the soft whimpering noises she made as your taste hit her tongue.

As she released her fingers with a pop, you lifted a hand to her cheek, caressing the flushed skin. Brienne leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When she opened them again, you were struck by the tenderness of her gaze, your heart skipping a beat. You hoped Brienne would never stop looking at you like that.

“Let me clean you up,” she said, pushing herself off the bed and going to fetch a clean rag, wetting it in the basin in the corner of your room before coming to rest between your thighs. She dabbed gently at your sex and you hissed as she came in contact with your sensitive folds, your clit. “Sorry,” she murmured, careful to be even more gentle as she cleaned you up, before dropping the rag on the floor - a problem for another time.

You wiggled up the bed until you were comfortable, opening your arms to Brienne who crawled after you and settled by your side. She slung an arm across your waist, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

Your own fingers came up to your pulse point, touching the sore mark Brienne had left earlier. She cleared her throat nervously.

“I’m sorry… I wanted to mark you,” she whispered sheepishly. “I-I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“I think I’ve been yours from the moment we met,” you replied truthfully, smiling at the heavy blush that spread across Brienne’s cheeks.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as sleep threatened to claim you both. 

“Brienne?” you whispered.

“Yes?” Her voice was heavy with sleep, you could tell she was fighting to keep herself awake.

“Will you stay the night?” Your nervousness must have been evident in your voice, for Brienne’s lips were upon yours in a second, her arm tightening possessively around your waist.

“Of course, my lady. I would like nothing more.” 

You tucked your head under her chin, sighing contentedly as you felt Brienne’s breathing even out, becoming deeper, as her fingers stopped moving and her arm became heavier across your middle.

This was where you would like to spend eternity, you thought, as you snuggled closer to her. There was no one in the world whose arms you would rather be in.

x

huge shoutout to @afeatherformills as well as my girlfriend for helping me out with this and beta-ing <3

[billiedeansbitch]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

(𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Prompt: You’re having troubles choosing which bra to wear. Brienne has a better option.

A/n: Modern day setting/AU. Slight smut. Self-indulgent fic.

Warning/s: none

Brienne’s done showering, she lathered, scrubbed and washed her body and hair. She even dedicated a whole happy birthday song from beginning to end as she thoroughly washed each finger, she brushed her teeth, flossed, gargled some mouthwash then flossed again. All of these only took her only fifteen minutes to get done. She feels refreshed and clean, so clean that she doesn’t want to touch anything or do anything, she just wants to stay fresh all day and then there’s you.

When she left to shower, you were already getting ready and now that she’s done, you’re still getting ready.

Brienne stops and leans on the doorway. She’s wearing boxer shorts because it’s loose and comfortable, so much space for ventilation, she always chooses comfort over aesthetics, and honestly you couldn’t blame her. Above her torso, nothing, she had nothing but the towel that covers her chest after aggressively drying her short blonde hair. It’s going to get frizzy and you’ll probably lecture her again but she doesn’t care.

She watches you with her long, strong arms, crossed against her chest, almost flexing her toned muscles. She doesn’t understand the fuss over these bras, they all look the same to her, but oh, she finds great joy in removing them from you or palming your breasts over them, especially those ones that don’t have underwires. Extra points if they are lace and very sheer.

Still in your underwear, you can’t decide which is better, the nude demi or the black balconette, both will bring great definition and more lift but still you can figure which is much preferable with your outfit. The sigh that left your lips is pretty much a cry for help, so you turn around, brows knitting together.

“This or that?” you asked your partner, eyeing the black one that’s draped on the armchair next to the mirror. 

Brienne’s eyes don't waver from your breasts, she just keeps looking until a grin cracks on her lips and you can’t do anything but smile as well. Shaking your head,  you turn around as you playfully roll your eyes and face the mirror once more. 

You should have known better than asking her. As soon as you turn, your gaze lingering on her reflection in the mirror. it’s your turn to ogle at Brienne, appreciating the taut skin along her stomach and her calves extending up to her thighs. Her arms that can easily sweep you off of your feet, oh and that wicked smile.

Once Brienne gains control over her legs, with a few huge strides, she’s quickly made it behind you. “How about this?” she says, serious and all, and then you feel it, the coldness of her palms cupping your breasts. Your nipples hardened almost immediately. 

“This is much better. Wouldn’t you agree?” She has a goofy smile on her lips, one that reaches her eyes, your heart jumps a little at the view of her face. Her crooked lower teeth are showing, her cheeks flushed, the way her hair is messed is tragic and art at the same time you wanted to comb your fingers through. Oh Brienne, so handsome and so pretty at the same time. And God, Brienne is tall, so tall and so perfect.

“This will do but I don’t think everyone will appreciate it if we're going to show up like this to your father’s birthday party.” you feel her peck your cheek.

She chuckles, agreeing but still not quite ready to let you go.

A pinch on your left nipple caused a gasp to spill from your lips. A flash of mischief in her eyes.

She did it again with the other, until she’s massaging both mounds and you’re helplessly defeated in her hands. “Gods, Brienne.” 

You slip a hand on the back of her neck, tilting your head a bit to the side. Kissing her is about finding a good angle and all. So your lips met, slow, sensually slow like you both had the time in the world when in reality, you will both be running late if you don’t detangle yourselves from one another.

“We’re going to be late, darling.”

“Five minutes.” she breathed on the skin of your neck, her hands are now on your ass, massaging and groping. “Just five minutes.” and her lips are now back to yours, tongue thrusting in.  

“Hold on,” this prompts you to wrap your arms around her neck, your legs spread around her hips. Gods, she’s strong.

Brienne carries you with unbelievable strength, and it turns you on, so much that your underwear is now soaked. Briefly, you withdraw from kissing the handsome beauty, your fingers combing through her locks, “We should change the shower head.”

Brienne stops assaulting your neck, “Yeah, I was thinking of that, too, and place it much higher.” You remember the first time you both showered together after moving in together to your apartment, Brienne had hit her forehead on the shower head causing a small bruise to form. You can still remember where it was, you rub the spot on the right side near her hairline and kiss it. 

“What about the tiles? I think it’s a bit out of style.” you said, kissing her eyelids some more then her cheeks and her mouth.

“We’ll change it, too, if that’s what you want.”

“Mhmm, and we should buy a bigger tub so we can both fit in.”

“Done.” she murmurs, chasing your lips in the process.

“Gods, I love you, Brienne.”

“And some lingerie,” she says, licking your lower lip, “For you.”

Five minutes turns to half an hour of kissing and a lot of fucking, she even fucked you some more in the shower when you protested that you can’t both go to her father’s birthday smelling like horny teenagers. 

You both made it to Selwyn Tarth’s fiftieth birthday, although you were both late, and Selwyn isn’t very much pleased with it, Brienne still managed to cool the old man’s head with a kiss on the cheek and a little birthday present from you.

[axelsagewrites]

Main Masterlist Here

House of the Dragon Masterlist Here

Warnings/Guides

【P】Platonic【P】 🆇Smut 18+🆇

Request Line Up and Request Rules

♡ Jon Snow ♡

🆇What he's like in bed🆇

Blind date

🆇Milady🆇

🆇Home Alone🆇

🆇Price of My Secrecy 🆇

Relationship Moodboard

🆇Couldn't Resist🆇

♡ Robb Stark ♡

Best Friend

Marriage night

🆇Dream🆇 🆇part two🆇

Frey Girl 🆇part two🆇

🆇I miss you🆇

Cloak

Honey Cakes (cloak part two or standalone)

Comfort

Sweet Girl

🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇

🆇Good girl🆇

Yearbook

Don't Die For Me

🆇Little Secret🆇

🆇Can't Catch a Break🆇

Goodnight Dear Husband

♡ Sandor Clegane ♡

Most People Say Goodbye Part One - Part Two

🆇Brat🆇

♡ Beric Dondarrian ♡

Home

♡ Thoros of Myr ♡

Favourite Friend

♡ Brienne of Tarth ♡

【P】Queen in the North and South【P】

♡Ned Stark♡

🆇MiLord🆇

🆇Wife🆇

♡Ramsay Bolton♡

🆇My Father Would Kill Me🆇

🆇Catch You🆇

🆇How Far Would You Go🆇

🆇Appreciate You🆇

🆇Bath🆇

🆇Little Mouse🆇

♡Roose Bolton♡

Perhaps

Not Yet

♡Edmure Tully♡

【P】Who We Call Family【P】

My Queen My Love

♡Theon Greyjoy♡

Dream of Sweet Memories

🆇Give it back🆇

♡Sansa Stark♡

Roommates

🆇NSFW Alphabet🆇

🆇What's This?🆇

Surprise Visit

♡Podrick Payne♡

🆇Praise🆇

♡Daenereys Targaryen♡

🆇My Queen🆇

♡Jamie Lannister♡

🆇Extra Credit🆇

♡Oberyn Martell♡

🆇Duty🆇

♡Margaery Tyrell♡

🆇Ropes🆇

♡Cersei♡

🆇Morning🆇

♡Tormund♡

🆇Real Man🆇

🆇Use your words🆇

♡ Yara Greyjoy ♡

Flirting

Preferences/Multicharacter

🆇Company🆇 - Yara and Ellaria threesome

🆇What they're like in bed🆇 – Robb, Jon, Sandor, Podrick

How they react to teasing – all

🆇What They're Like in Bed🆇 – Margaery, Sansa, Danny, Yara

Share pt1 🆇Competition pt2🆇 🆇Wait p3🆇 - Robb and Jon

🆇Hook ups🆇 - Theon and Jon

Love Languages - Jon, Robb, Bran, Tormund, Podrick, Oberyn

Thanks for any support I appreciate it all xoxo Sage

Dividers from here and here from @saradika

Post topper made on Canva

[daughter-of-the-undertaker]

Just a thought…

Lady Dimitrescu x Brienne of Tarth

[melrosing]

wanted to imagine outfits for them as heads of their houses!

[swordmaid]

It was more a picture than a proper coat of arms, and the sight of it took her back through the long years, to the cool dark of her father’s armory. She remembered how she’d run her fingertips across the cracked and fading paint, over the green leaves of the tree, and along the path of the falling star. - AFFC Brienne II.

[fromstormsend]

“No hammerblow to the heart could have felled her half so hard.”

“The hammer was like part of his arm. She watched the play of muscles in his chest and listened to the steel music he made.” -A Clash of Kings - Arya IX

“As the swish of oars faded, she could almost hear the beating of her heart. Suddenly she was somewhere else . . . back in Harrenhal with Gendry.” -A Feast for Crows - Arya I

She dreamed of Gendry because her heart’s beats recalled Gendry’s hammer beats, the music he made with steel. And when Brienne first saw Gendry she thought he is Renly and get excited and characterized her feelings with “hammerblow” image. Even she didn’t know he is a blacksmith at this point. It is something Arya can say about Gendry actually :)

[wifeofwandamaximoff]

Fine...

A/N: Sorry it took so long to update I just didn't really have the motivation also I usually don't proofread my work so I do apologize. Also I wanted to update as quick as I can while making this so its a bit smaller then I would've preferred but ill try to make a longer part next time! Also thank you Max for the tips!

"Come in." Weems said from the other side of the doors. Oh how her voice was so raspy and soft. It's like whenever she talks her words are coated in love spider webs.

I step into her office, mentally preparing myself to see her. Once i'm in her office I instantly see her red plump lips that look so inviting. I quickly shake my head slightly to get out of my trance.

"Im here for our art lesson." I said with my stoic expression, my voice sounding like a hundred freshly made blades.

"Ah yes Miss Addams, I apologize I lost track of time." She said apologetically. Which I stared at her. The air in the room wasn't awkward but it wasn't comfortable either. She then decided to interrupt the silence.

"Follow me to the art studio then, this is where we will meet up instead of you coming to my office just like today." She smiled while standing up and walking around her desk.

She opened the door for me, I then step out of her office and wait for her to lead the way. When she was walking on her way to walk in front of me our hand's gently grazed each other. Making me feel spiders crawl in my stomach.

"Here we go Miss Addams." She smiled sweetly while opening a door. Inside there were a bunch of blank canvases, art supplies, etc. Basically any art supplies that some artist wished to have is right here in this very room.

I scan the room to see two canvases set up for the both of us and two stools. I look back at her to see her smiling at me with that soft smile that could make even an Addams's heart melt.

"Lets begin Miss Addams." She smiled, gesturing towards the stools. I stay quiet and go sit on one of the stools. She then goes to occupy the other one.

"Now Miss Addams what do you already know about art?" She asks me. I look at her, thinking if I should answer her or not. Eventually I decided to.

"About how to make art or what is art?" I asked in my icy cold tone. I see her a shiver a bit from that tone making my lips twitch in a small smirk. I quickly turn away, hoping she didn't see it.

"Well I suppose I should be more specific, what is art Miss Addams?" She said while clearing her throat. I see her starting to take off her gloves to reveal her soft porcelain skin.

Seeing her pale skin makes me shiver, but of course my skin was paler. "Art is a way of communicating with your thoughts and feelings, but thats the deeper meaning. Art is an object that is expressed with skill and imagination." I said while getting some acrylic paint out.

Weems just looks at me with a soft smile. "You think outside the box Miss Addams." She compliments. "Your first assignment is to paint what you have on your mind right now. Now this may take a couple of sessions to complete but do not rush."

I then think for a moment, I then look around the room. My eyes then look at her. In that moment I then decided what I was gonna paint.

----

The next day I was roaming the halls when Enid came up to me.

"Bell! The Poe Cup is soon and I was wondering if you could join us? Wednesday said she'll go if you go so please say yes!" Enid squealed. Shaking my shoulders making my tempted to cut off her fingers and stack them right in front of her.

"Ill think about it now please don't ever touch me again." I said before pushing her away. Not too hard but not to soft either.

I then walk to the quad, up from above I see Weems with her binoculars looking down at all the students. Our eyes then lock making her put her binoculars down and smile at me. Making a bowl of spiders crawl in my stomach. Which was definitely a feeling I was unaware of. I then turn away, walking to the art room since it was my free period and deciding to work on my painting for a while.

I peeked back a bit to see Weems with a sad expression before going back into her office.

I walked into the art room and looked over at Weems's painting. It seemed like a painting of black rose. My favorite rose...

"Lets play 21 questions hm? I think its only right since we will be giving these paintings to each other." Weems smiled at me. I just nodded.

"You will got first Weems." I said flatly while giving her my usual glare. She just nodded before thinking for a bit.

"Why did you decide to come to Nevermore?" She asked me after a few minutes. I think about my answer for a bit.

"Because I was in a boarding school in France before. I was there for a few years and I decided I wanted a change of scenery and Wednesday has expressed how much she wanted me to come back through our letters to each other." I said while starting to paint the background. Some clouds with hues of pale yellow.

"A boarding school in France? Wednesday told you she missed you?" Weems said, firing questions at me.

"Wednesday and I are very close. We always did everything with each other and for the question about me going to France for school. I needed to get away from mother and father. They were too affectionate and over-protective." I said while creating soft stroked on my canvas. I look over to see Weems with a bit of a sad look.

"Too affectionate?" She said in a bit of a sad tone which she tried to hide but I caught on right away.

"Yes too affectionate, they would smother me in hugs and kisses and always made sure to know where I was going." I said a bit softer then usual.

She just nodded which I thought was a bit strange but I brushed it off. I then started to think of what I should ask her.

"Do you think angels are good?" I asked. She looked at me perplexed since this was a strange question for me to ask her. She then thought for a bit.

"I do believe angels are good Miss Addams. They are supernatural beings that have many tales about their good deeds and what they have done for humans in the past." She said. I then see her finally starting to pain.

"Yes but only of their good deeds, they must have committed something down right sinful at least once." I said while starting to paint some golden gates. The gate ways to heaven hell. As I believed she was sent from heaven hell.

"What's your favorite flower Miss Addams?" She asked with a smile.

"A black rose." I said with ease. One of the easiest questions that could she could ask from me.

"It represents elegance and mystery." I said while glancing over at her. I see her get out black, grey, and white paint. I then quickly assume she will be painting my flower which made the corner of my lips turn up a bit before I shook that odd pleasant feeling down.

I then quickly return back to the present. Though I felt a strange feeling when I realized she was painting my favorite flower.Even though I already knew that it still made spiders crawl in my stomach. Basking myself in joy despair.

I then hear Enid calling my name which me roll my eyes. I then hear her open the door to the art room to see me which made her grin widely.

"Bella! Can you participate in the Poe Cup this year please?" Enid asked with puppy eyes which didn't prove effective on me.

"No." I stated plainly before going back to painting.

"Please Bella? I know I already asked today but please??" She pouted which made me roll my eyes before sighing.

"Fine." I said, finally relenting to join this silly event.

"Really?" Enid said happily, about to go in for a hug before I glared at her. Signaling to not do that.

"Oh Principal Weems will be so happy that you'll join! I told her how I wanted you to join the team today and she hoped that you would join and you did! I have to go thank her!" Enid smiled excitedly.

"Oh and we'll build the boat this week!" Enid smiled before walking out.

I sighed, already regretting my decision to join the Poe Cup. But I then thought about how Weems would be happy to see me play which made it kind of worth it.

I snap out of my daze, looking back at my painting of an angel. As I saw Larissa Weems as an angel. I mentally conflicted with myself if I should use Weems's face but decided against it since it would seem weird. I decided to put a mask on the angel. The identity hidden.

I then feel something crawl on my shoulder to see Thing. I glare at Thing, mentally saying to get off my shoulder.

Thing decided to stay on my shoulder which irritates me.

"What do you need Thing?" I asked while starting to paint the mask of the angel. Thing quickly starts doing signals which makes me look at him.

"You want me to help Enid build the boat?" I said asking him. Which makes him sign a yes. I sigh, looking back at my painting before starting to clean up.

"I suppose." I said setting Thing down on the floor. Thing then starts to lead the way to where our team was building the boat.

In the distance I see the blonde werewolf and my sister. I get closer and seem them both trying to paint a black cat which makes me sigh. I then decide to paint the other side.

"Leave the painting to me you fools." I said starting to paint. Enid looks surprised that I was helping out since Wednesday probably told her I wouldn't. It seems that Wednesday was surprised to. I just glare at them making them both quickly go back to painting the other side.

"Thing tie my hair up." I ordered which makes him do so obediently. He ties my hair making my raven hair into a ponytail. My hair shining a deep purple in the sun.

After about an hour of painting I am halfway done with my side. I look over to see the two gone. I then feel three sets of eyes looking at me. I turn around to see Enid and Wednesday looking at me paint. But there were only two people behind me. I drag my eyes around my vicinity to see no one us but us three. Weird...

I decide to ignore it and go back to painting my cat for our team.

After about another hour I finish my painting, going back a few steps to marvel at my work. I see Enid come closer, inspecting it before turning to me and smiling.

"Oh Bella it looks amazing! Thank you!" She said happily, about to go in for a hug which makes me step back immediately. Like second nature.

I see Wednesday right next to me, shoulder to shoulder. I see Enid looking at us excitedly before pulling out her brain sucking device.

"We should take a picture and make memories!" She said excitedly before snapping a picture of me and Wednesday making me a bit mad but I suppose it was okay. Just one photo...

After Enid took our photo I demanded to see it. Conflicting with myself if I could delete it or not. I take the phone and look at the picture. Me and Wednesday standing shoulder to shoulder, Enid in the corner of the picture. A failed part on hers of trying to include herself in the selfie. I then examine the photo.

But in the background I see a shadow...A shadow of a large figure. The tree right next to the shadow has three claw marks...

I then look back to see the shadow gone but the marks still there...

Taglist:

@poorwritingandstalecoffee  @maxfanartfan @a-goblin-named-cherry

[imtheindiekid]

Was watching SNL the other day and thought about it.

[pastanest]

Brienne x she/her!reader

Flowers

Blinking rapidly, she recalls the events that have led her here. In the short time that she has served as your sworn sword, Brienne of Tarth has come to understand feelings that she had been so certain she would never be lucky enough to experience. Like many things, Brienne was under the impression that love was simply not something she would ever be allowed to have, until she was introduced to you.

The compliments that you showered her with upon meeting her, and have continued to give her each and everyday since, have had a profound effect on the young knightley woman. At first, Brienne pondered the possibility that you could be teasing her, but there was something about the sincerity in your words that she simply couldn't shake. As if to prove yourself to her, to win her heart in a game that you most likely did not even realize you were playing, you were proud to walk at her side, to take her arm in public and gaze up at her like she was some great masterpiece, rather than the hideous monster she thought herself to be. Often, you have dragged her - Brienne will tell you she very much resisted your efforts, but if she actually had, you would not have been able to move her an inch - over to your full length mirror and pointed out her features in the form of specifically tailored compliments that she had never heard before. The color of her hair and eyes, how smooth and soft her skin is, how beautiful her smile is, how strong her arms are, how long and, in your own words, incredible, her legs are - all said without even a hint of malice, solely admiration. 

Having spent every waking moment thinking very deeply about your gestures of kindness, Brienne has come to the conclusion that she has very quickly found herself at your mercy, in being head-over-silver-boots in love with you. She is not naive to adore you based solely on your treatment towards her, but in serving as your sworn sword, she has seen the person you are, how you talk to and treat everyone with a kindness like no other; Brienne has observed the way you live, breathe and smile long enough to know that her heart pines for you in a way that causes her physical pain, and she can withhold her feelings no longer.

And so, blinking rapidly, Brienne unsheathes her sword and begins to cut an array of flowers, laying them neatly down on the ground as she orders them in what she believes to be the most presentable way she can. Obviously, she asked the owner of this garden - your father - permission to pluck some flowers, and also asked for his blessing in presenting them to you, both of which he agreed to with a cheerful smile. Your family, much like you, continue to show Brienne a kindness and understanding that she has not received anywhere else, which does make her wonder if the rest of the world, beyond you, is even worth exploring. 

Once arranged, Brienne picks the flowers up in her hand and examines the carefully organized bouquet, nodding to herself. Then, she sits on the edge of the flowerbed and waits. When she had asked you this morning to meet her in this enclosed part of the garden within the hour, Brienne had not anticipated that the preparations of her gift to you would only take 30 minutes. 

Half an hour later, you step through the clearing, and Brienne stands to attention, clasping her hands at her back to hide the bouquet and dip her head to you in a gesture of respect.

“My Lady.” 

You grin at her. “Lady Brienne, I have missed your company this past hour! Please, tell me, what is the meaning of you parting from me for such an eternity?”

The laugh that only you can pull from Brienne, passes her lips at your sweet, playful words. “I do apologize, my Lady, I was preparing something for you.”

Curiosity twinkles in your eyes then, and you take a step closer to her. “For me? Lady Brienne, you must not spoil me, I already have everything I could possibly need now that you are in front of me again.”

Her heart sighs in her chest, your words weighing heavy there. “You are too kind, my Lady. That kindness, amongst every other aspect of you, is my reason for asking your father’s permission to present these to you…”

Brienne trails off, slowly bringing her clasped hands in front of her and unveiling the bouquet of carefully organized flowers, which she holds out to you.

The smile on your face begins to wobble, and you hurry to blink back tears. “Lady Brienne, a gesture like this…I must be certain of your intention before I accept it.”

Nodding in understanding, Brienne takes a deep breath. “They are intended in the traditional sense, my Lady.”

It takes several seconds for her words to sink in, and Brienne’s heart pounds irregularly in her chest for each and every one. Then, without warning, you take the bouquet from her hands and launch yourself at her. Jumping up to wrap your arms around her armored neck, clasping the flowers at the back of her head, and sniffling into her shoulder. 

“In the traditional sense, I accept, Lady Brienne.” You chuckle.

A pair of strong, armored arms wrap around your waist, holding you against her as she breathes in your familiar scent that she has only previously smelt from beside her, but has now enveloped her entirely. Closing her eyes, Brienne feels a sense of peace and freedom like no other, in being granted permission to express such feelings, and for them to be reciprocated. 

In that moment, Brienne of Tarth knows that should she ever be in any battle in which the odds are truly against her, when death is on the horizon and closing in from every angle, she will think back to this first time she held you, and it will either serve as the greatest motivation to wage war against death itself, or be the most blissful memory to leave this plain of existence with.

[wednesdayorwhatever]

[billiedeansbitch]

Masterlist✨

𝐋. 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬

a whole lot of woman [nsfw]

stay here

let's stay in bed, be naked all day

let's go home

an absolute dream

lunch and knickers [nsfw]

in this lifetime or in others

take me home [platonic]

a little bit of fun [nsfw]

kiss me

keep reading [nsfw]

baked with love

idiots in love [nsfw]

only you [nsfw]

roomie [nsfw]

vision [nsfw]

vision part 2-the aftermath [nsfw]

good girl [nsfw]

sweet dreams [nsfw]

fifteen years and counting

do not disturb [nsfw]

tolerate it

poison paradise [nsfw]

Little by little

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 [nsfw]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 [nsfw] (𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 4/5)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

Sweet Confession [nsfw]

Sweet Andy

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡

this or that? [nsfw]

✨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬✨

Stretched (l.weems) — Mirror kink. Praise kink. Size kink.

Warmed (l.weems) — Cockwarming.

[axelsagewrites]

Heya this is kind of Robb Stark but more of a friendship one where y/n is Robbs wife (Robert Baratheons only real child and is very nice a sweet and was in a arranged marriage to Robb but fell In love. She is famous for being beautiful has songs written about her and all that jazz)and it’s when Caytlen comes to camp with Brienne of Tarth and y/n is kind of amazed by her and finds her very beautiful. They end up having a conversation where y/n compliments her but Brienne thinks she’s joking but y/n is quick to correct her. y/n gives her a very encouraging speech about how she admires her . Not that Brienne would show it but she’s very touched by it and grows a soft spot for y/n just a very nice moment. If you don’t do these types of pens that’s fine ❤️

Queen in the North and South

Main Pairing: Platonic Brienne x f!reader

Second Pairing: Romantic Robb x f!reader

Summary: Brienne and the reader discuss to pros and cons of beauty and where to find it

Warnings: Mentions of creepy men

Word count: 2842

Masterlist Here

When you first arrived at Winterfell you were hesitant of your new life being forced upon you but soon grew to love it. In Kingslanding you had felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. You didn’t share the same Lannister locks with your siblings nor your mother’s affiliation with wine. As your father’s oldest child, he adored you but as you grew, he began to show you off and flaunt you to the lords around.

“Gather round my lords and see the greatest beauty in all of Westeros!” He would cheer drunk on his ale and those around would join in. over time you learned to hide your embarrassment at the attention, and the glares your mother would give you for it and smiled politely. Men would come to court simply to play the songs they wrote for you, or lords would attempt to rhyme off pretty sonnets in your honour. It felt nice to be loved but as you grew you noticed the lust in many eyes and began to feel disgust.

But you smiled politely like you did when you first met Robb. He was of course very handsome himself; a true Tully look about him with all the Stark courage and honour. However, you tried not to obsess over looks like many had done with you and insisted on getting to know him as a person.

As it turned out Robb was more interesting than you first assumed however far too trusting of people. Something you tried to educate him on. Robb was just relieved that his wife was not just a pretty face, not that he complained about your looks since he adored them. Once you were wed you began to talk late into the night, discussing opinions and having debates. even when you told him his opinion was wrong, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you delivered the punch line.

You had learned one thing from your mother and that was that you wanted to be the opposite of her in every way. In Kingslanding you would often venture into the city to teach the small folk how to read or hear their folktales. It was how you first heard the songs they sang about you. The beauty of all the kingdoms. That’s what they called you and it meant so much more from then that it did the lords at court.

In Winterfell you spent time meeting and talking to everyone and anyone you could. Often you played hide and seek with the younger Starks and Sansa flocked to you like a mother hen. You also managed to gain the favour of many lords and ladies in the North as the South had taught you what to say and how.

When Ned Stark died it was not just the Young Wolf they rode out for and died for. It was you. While northerners cheered for Robb to be their king, Kingslanding silently begged for you their true queen to return and take the throne from your monster of a brother. You had even received letters from Dorne backing your claim. The king in the north and queen in the south.

However, you weren’t the only one who had a claim, a claim you had yet to announce you were fighting for to the world. Renly Baratheon also believed himself king. You couldn’t understand your uncles reasoning in the slightest. Stannis’s claim was the only logical one if Joffrey was a bastard and the lords sought a king not a queen. Why not join Stannis as his heir? Then you could never quite understand your uncle.

You hoped Lady Catelyn would however when she left to see his camp. Robb had insisted you did not go meet your uncle personally. While you had not announced your claim many rumours flew around about it and Robb was not prepared to send his wife off to a camp filled with your rivals’ men. Despite your marriage being a political one it had grown into love and admiration for each other. Little did Tywin know that it was not politically wise for him when he suggested it to your father who jumped at the chance to join houses with the Starks.

Every night she was gone you prayed for Catelyn’s return and your men’s safety so when you saw her arrive back at camp you began to thank them profusely. However, she returned with an extra man at her side. Or woman you should say.

Brienne of Tarth stood tall beside Catelyn, her hand always close to her sword. You were tending to the wounded when she arrived and did not have time to meet her just yet but as you gazed at her from across the camp you saw her eyes turn to you. when your eyes met you smiled and gave her a small wave. She was beautiful. Not in the typical sense you knew. But she was.

Robb was the one to tell you more about her. “Wait she was in his Kings guard? Like a knight?” You asked as you walked with your husband to the food area of your camp.

“Not a knight darling,” Robb had his hand linked with yours which kept your other free to wave to the Lords and soldiers who waved at you. even during war, they admired your elegance. “But she was his guard apparently. She beat Loras Tyrell in the tourney,”

“That couldn’t have been hard,” you joked, “that boy was all spindly legs when I saw him last,”

“He’s one of the best knights in the Kingdom,” Robbs laughed made your stomach flutter the same way it had the first night you met, “I don’t even know if I believe that she did,”

“I can believe it,”

“You see the good in everyone love,”

You snorted at his words as you took a bowl of stew from one of the men, “No,” you retorted as Robb got his own, raising an eyebrow at your words, “I just don’t announce my distrust to the world. Have I taught you noting?” you teased.

Robb rolled his eyes with a smile. You glanced over to where Brienne was sat alone and foodless. “You wanna go sit with her, don’t you?” he asked, and you nodded sheepishly, “Go on, make some friends,” Robb chuckled as he handed you another bowl of stew to give to the woman, “I’m gonna go eat with Lord Karstarks to talk battle plans,”

“Okay have fun, if that’s possible,” You grinned. Robb rolled his eyes before pressing a brief kiss to your lips and walking away.

You turned your attention to Brienne who was whitling a piece of wood with a knife. You smiled and nodded to all the men as you walked across the camp to where she sat on a log. “May I join you lady Brienne?” you smiled as you held out the bowl to her.

Brienne looked up quickly, her eyes wide, “It’s just Brienne. I’m no lady. I’m sure you would enjoy someone else’s company more your grace,” she said. You held the bowl out further his she finally took, “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” you said before sitting on the log beside her, Brienne looking at you as if she had three heads, “I thought your father was lord tarth?” you mused as you began to eat your stew, handing Brienne a spare spoon for hers.

Her eyes faltered between yours and the food, “Um he is,” she started as she turned her attention to stare into the camp, “I am a lady by birth right your grace but not by actions,”

“Life would be far more interesting if there were more ladies like you,”

“You don’t know me your grace,”

“Then what do I need to know?” you asked as you set your spoon down. “I’m all ears,”

Reluctantly Brienne began to tell you her life so far though not the personal bits of course. She told you how she found herself at Renly’s camp, how she fought for him, swore an oath to him, and became a king’s guard. You laughed at her stories, a genuine laugh that touched Brienne as you actually seemed to care. perhaps it was fake she thought. Perhaps that’s why people sang songs about you.

None the less she decided to enjoy your company at least for dinner, “It was about time someone knocked down Loras a leg or two. When I was eight, he spilled his father’s wine all down my dress because I told him his hair was ugly,”

Brienne couldn’t stop herself from laughing at your antics, “Maybe you shouldn’t have insulted him,”

“Oh, im sure he started it,” you joked as you set the now empty bowl on the ground, “if not him then it was defiantly Margaery. I refuse to accept it was my fault,” Normally Brienne would judge your words but the way you laughed made it clear unlike many you could handle a joke.

Something she appreciated as you laughed at hers. “I must say your grace you’re not what I expected from the songs,”

You groaned at her words, “Oh gods what do they sing about me over there?”

Brienne laughed at your fake agony, “Just the usual. That you’re beautiful and kind,”

“Have I offended you?” you joked turning to face her straight on, “Have I not been kind?”

Brienne flushed at your words, “Forgive me your grace. It’s just most Ladies I know aren’t as kind as you,”

“Or you,” you agreed, “Then again, I’ve never met another lady like you. it’s refreshing honestly. And for the record I hate those songs,” You confessed your longest running lie to a stranger, but Brienne moral code was stronger than the Starks.

“How can you hate being called beautiful?” she asked, and you could feel the resentment from her. the same feeling you got from many other ladies who would push you as a child or gossip about you as an adult.

You sighed as you placed your arms on your knees to lean forward, thinking before you spoke, “When Robb calls me beautiful I feel a warm feeling in me that spreads across me like a love struck plague,” you began, recalling the butterflies you had felt the first time he kissed your hand when you met. “The first time I heard one of those songs yes sure it made me feel good. Then I saw the way the lords would look at me. Then I heard what they sang and said when they thought I wasn’t around. They didn’t view me as a person,” you sighed as you recalled all the pervy comments and creepy stares.

“Im sorry you had to deal with that my lady,” Brienne placed her hand on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

You turned your head to look at her and sat back up, “it’s not your fault. Besides everyone’s beautiful in their own way,” you mused.

Brienne barked out a laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong my lady,”

“You can find beauty everywhere. All you need to do is look,” you said as you looked out over the camp. “See him over there? With the dried blood covering his face?” you nodded towards one of the Karstarks boys and Brienne couldn’t help but noted how the battles must have harmed his face, “He has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Better than all the singers in Kingslanding and him,” you nodded towards another unassuming man by the fire, “Whittles these wooden figures that have so much detail and grace in every carving. Even him,” you nodded at the most closed off, grumpy one of your fighters who constantly looked ready to spit on someone, “has the biggest most beautiful smile when he laughs. Just because you can’t see the beauty at first glance doesn’t mean it’s not there,”

Brienne looked around the camp at all the different men and how they spoke, laughed, and moved. “Do you know all of your men?” she asked.

“I try to,” you answered as you took both your dirty dishes to take to be washed but one of your men stopped you to take them from you, “Thank you lord Umber,” you smiled at him before turning back to Brienne, “People respond far better to kindness than cruelness,”

“It’s a shame that most find it easier to be cruel than kind,” Brienne said as you both continued to walk around the camp. She enjoyed your company more than she’d like to admit.

You glanced to where Catelyn sat alone with her food in deep thought, “Hurt people hurt. While it does dismiss their actions it can help to explain them,”

“I suppose,” Brienne agreed, “But it’s hard not to hate them for it,”

“I know. trust me,” you said as you linked your arm with the woman who flinched initially at your touch. However, Brienne found comfort in the way you held her arm as you guided her around camp. “The sky’s so beautiful tonight,” you broke the comfortable silence.

“It is,” Brienne paused as she thought. She wanted to ask but worried you would think her weird. “Can you truly see the beauty in everything?” she asked. Brienne was mocked constantly growing up for her looks and how she acted. Men flinched when they saw her, but you looked at her with deep admiration.

“Everyone can. If they take the time,” you knew what she was thinking without her saying. You heard your own men mock her in the shadows and how they laughed. Some people were cruel, but you refused to be to those who had done nothing to deserve it. “I used to dream of knights as a child,” Brienne raised an eyebrow as you began your tangent. “Of how they rode their horses with such expertise and how they didn’t even have to look to know where their knife was about to strike. I used to admire their honour and their duty. Of course, I also dreamed about their armour and how imposing it made them look. I wanted to surround myself with them so that the men in their armour and imposing nature would protect me out of honour and morality.

Those dreams died the first time a knight made a pass at me at 14,” Brienne screwed her face up at the idea that anyone, any man, would dream of hurting you, “I remember how his head rolled off his body when my father executed him for it. so, I stopped dreaming of knights,” You stopped walking to turn to Brienne, taking her hands in yours. Your hands were soft and tender while hers were rough and scarred, “You however are the truest knight I have ever met. And that Brienne is far more beautiful than hair of black silk or just another pretty face. You’re the most handsome, beautiful knight I have ever laid my eyes upon so don’t let silly boys ruin what you see in the mirror,”

Tears lined Brienne eyes, but she had taught herself not to let them fall even when you gave her hands a gentle squeeze, “I am no knight my lady,”

“Not yet,” you said as you removed your hands from hers, “But when I am queen, I will make sure you are,”

Brienne had already sworn her loyalty to Renly but her king was dead and now she was stood before someone equally as kind as he had been to her, “You would make a fine queen your grace of the north or the south,” You smiled at her words, “But what of your brother?” she asked.

“That boy is the cruellest person I have ever met,” you said as you stared off into the distance, “He will only be beautiful when he is dead,”

Brienne had assumed by your appearance you knew nothing of politics and war but as she saw your jaw clench and your eyes gaze into the distance, she knew she had been wrong. The sound of her unsheathing her sword brought your attention back to her and you could hear the camp go silent at her actions. Your men’s hands flew to their own sword hilts as they watched her but relaxed slightly when Brienne went on one knee, holding her sword out to you, “It would be my honour to serve you your grace,” Brienne said, “As queen in the north and in the south,”

You smiled at her words, a genuine smile of love and compassion, “You honour me greatly Brienne of Tarth,” your hand came to rest on her shoulder, “When the war is won and Kingslanding has been saved and Ned Stark avenged I will have you knighted before the iron throne before the gods and the realm,”

Brienne looked up at you, her eyes wet with happy tears. You smiled down at her with love and sincerity, something even Renly’s eyes failed to offer at times. “A good day that’ll be your grace,”

[drrav3nb]

Marriage by Combat: Chapter Three

 “Oberyn, I know that I have been slightly remiss since we left Tarth and although our weddings have been more beautiful than I ever imagined they would be, I have felt taut as the hours have waned down to this moment. As husband and wife I know that we have a duty to consummate our union but I have never…” Her words trailed off as she bowed her head in embarrassment, ashamed of the reality of her confession. But soon she pulled herself together and forced her eyes to meet his own, her gaze unwavering and resolute. “I think I am ready now…so if you must take me, then take me. I am yours this night.” The Prince fell silent after that, an act that made Brienne question if she was right in revealing such truth. But she soon realised that his silence was not motivated by displeasure but bewilderment.    “Do you think that I have craved you solely for martial duty? Your body alone inspires such impatience that I must fill my dreams at night in order to satisfy my hunger. Your lips tease me every time you speak that I must restrain my desire to consume them during every conversation. You, Brienne, have imprisoned my thoughts and beckoned my desire since the first day I laid eyes on you.” | As Oberyn and Brienne's wedding day arrives, the noble houses of Westeros flock to Dorne to get a first glimpse of the unlikely couple, some for more guileful reasons than others. But as the festivities continue into the evening, Brienne starts to become nervous towards a martial duty that looms closer as the night deepens - the consummation of their marriage.

Author's Note: I love writing for this crackship! The idea of Brienne and Oberyn has a couple just intrigues me so much and I hope I can convince more people to fawn over these two with me! Anyway hope you all enjoy this fic!

Read the fic here/Read from Chapter One here

[doctorwhomybae]

Valyrian steel is so invaluable in the world of asoiaf that it’s super hard for even rich lords and ladies get it and then when they do it’s like the pride of their house and the fact that Jaime just casually gifted it to Brienne like how is she not on her knees thanking him rn (didn’t mean that sexually but you know what…)

[liliummmmm]

idk where all these photos are from or the context of them but my jaw dropped straight to the floor. she's not real she can't be real.

i crave her so bad i need a moment to cry my eyes out bc she's not mine.