#Podrick x reader

[tj-is-down]

Squire Squabble (pt. 2) Podrick Payne x reader

Here's part 2, also written in 2022 (these been in the drafts foreveeeeer). I hope you like it! :)

Summary: After being forced to spend the night in close quarters, Pod and Y/N find themselves traveling together a few more days.

Word count: ~2.1k

Warnings: Read part 1 first! Also written w/ a feminine character in mind, but going forward in future fics that likely won't be the case (it will be gender neutral). Enjoy!

When Y/N wakes up, the tent is empty. Pod must’ve woken up already and went to eat. When Y/N leaves the tent, their suspicions are confirmed, as Pod sits by the fire along with Brienne and Carac. Upon seeing them approach, his eyes flicker quickly away, finding sudden interest in the grass by his feet. Y/N sits beside Ser Carac and begins to cook their food, roasting it on the open fire.

“How’d you sleep?” Ser Carac asks them nonchalantly.

“Very well, thank you,” Y/N replies.

“How was the tent?” Ser Carac continues, looking to Pod. “You didn’t dishonor my squire, did you?”

Brienne’s eyes widen in surprise at the accusation, but Pod merely takes another bite of his food. “Not for all the gold in the world, Ser.”

Y/N glares at him, but before they have a minute to say anything, Brienne conveniently yet unknowingly steps in.

“Pod, we’ll be traveling with Ser Carac and Y/N until we reach Wolf’s Wood, then we’ll be splitting off. That gives us at least another three day’s traveling. The two of you think you can keep from killing each other until then?” She asks, referencing you and Pod. “We’ll stop and get another tent at the next market. Until then, the two of you are sharing.”

Pod opens his mouth to say something, but at the sight of Brienne’s stern look, he closes it, instead choosing to grunt an acceptance as he takes another bite of food. Y/N similarly sighs before nodding their head in defeat.

The next three days are going to be long.

* * *

The day’s ride is silent, almost no one saying anything except the occasional words to their horse in order to keep them moving in the right direction. None of them are really talkers anyway, other than Ser Carac, who loves the sound of his own voice, as the other three know very well at this point in the journey. Y/N, however, is seething, still angry over Pod’s comment earlier in the morning. They say nothing about it until the two are alone, hitting him upside the head as they finish setting up the tent. He turns to them, equally angered and confused.

“What was that for?”

“You know what it was for.”

“Obviously I don’t, or I wouldn’t have asked. I dislike the sound of your voice, and if I can go on without hearing it, I will.”

“You’ve made that clear. What was it you said earlier? ‘Not for all the gold in the world,’ right? You wouldn’t sleep with me for all the gold in the world.”

“Are you angered by that?” He asks, even more puzzled than before.

“Yes, I am,” Y/N responds matter-of-factly.

“And why would that be?” Pod inquires before shaking his head. “Actually, I don’t care. Be angry all you want; I’m going to sleep.” He turns and moves into the tent, Y/N following behind him. “And don’t keep me up all night again, I swear to the gods, Y/N--”

“Last night was the closest you’ve ever even been to anyone in the bedroom, and it wasn’t even a romantic encounter,” Y/N says pointedly.

Pod stops what he’s doing and turns back to Y/N. He raises an eyebrow.

“That’s not true,” he says simply. “I’ve been with plenty of people.”

Y/N shrugs. “Sure you have. And I’m the heir to the Iron Throne.”

“Very funny. I don’t need to prove myself to you. I know who I am, and who I’ve been with. But above all, I’m humble, and humble men don’t share their conquests outside of the bedroom.” He smirks at them, satisfied with his answer. “Especially with the inexperienced such as yourself.”

Y/N scoffs. “You think you’ve more experience than me?”

“I do, yeah.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove it?”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, shrugging their shoulders. “You say you’re so experienced; prove it.”

Pod is wide-eyed for a moment, stuck in his tracks. Y/N thinks they’ve won, convinced they’ve cured themselves of Podrick’s self-righteous attitude, but he shakes his head slightly and takes a step forward.

“Alright, fine. Sit down.”

Y/N sits on the floor of the tent, as does Pod.

He reaches out his right hand and places it on the back of their neck, his thumb resting on their cheek. He leans closer, slowly, and closes his eyes. Y/N closes theirs only for a second before opening them back up again, nerves getting the best of them. This confuses them; they’ve never been nervous--let alone this nervous--about anything. But they can’t back out, not without letting Pod win, and that’s not happening. They feel his breath on their face as he gets closer, the gap between them getting smaller and smaller. Suddenly, Pod stops.

“I know you’re bluffing,” he whispers, the hint of triumph in his voice.

“What?”

“You keep moving your head back,” he says before letting go of them and backing away. He raises his voice back to a normal volume. “You’re bluffing, about knowing more than me. I doubt you know anything at all. Like I said, inexperienced.”

“That’s not true,” Y/N says, stammering over their words. “I got nervous, it happens. Sorry I don’t want to kiss--”

“Nervous!” Pod laughs. “Of course you’re nervous. Because you’re you, and I’m me, and you can’t handle it. Start with someone smaller, or, you know, more your speed. You can work your way back up, and when you’re ready, maybe I’ll still be around.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, letting his words mull over in their mind. Sure, he might be right, but they’ll be damned before they let him figure that out. 

“Fuck it,” they mutter to themselves, before leaning forward and kissing him.

Pod, although confused at first, moves into it, putting his hand back where it was on their neck. The two of them fight for dominance, finally putting their anger for each other towards something useful.

After a few seconds Y/N pulls away, out of breath. Pod, however, seems to be unfazed. “Not bad,” he says nonchalantly. “Could be better though. You need more practice.”

He leans in to kiss them. “I hate you,” they respond before placing their lips on his.

“Good,” he says between kissing them. “That’s good.” Another kiss. “Use that.”

Another kiss. “Shut up, Podrick.”

“Mmhmm.”

* * *

Y/N wakes up while the sun is just rising, rays just barely sneaking through the fabric of the tent. Their head is laid on Pod’s chest, the two of them lying in a “T” position. One of Pod’s arms rests under his head, the other laying across Y/N’s body, his thumb running up and down.

“Good morning, Podrick,” Y/N says, not moving from their position.

“Morning, Y/N.”

Despite the neutral tone of his voice, something changed between Pod and Y/N in the night, whether they realized it consciously or not. Y/N stretched their legs, fighting butterflies in their stomach. Does Pod feel the way they do? What would he say when Ser Carac and Brienne ask about their night’s sleep?

“It’s too early to be thinking so hard, Y/N,” Pod says, noticing the scrunched look on their face.

“How much gold am I worth?” Y/N asks.

“What?”

“How much gold am I worth?”

Pod sighs. “Is this about what I said yesterday?”

“Perhaps.”

“Okay,” Pod says, thinking. After a moment of silence, he responds. “None.”

Y/N sits up immediately. “None?”

Pod smirks. “Yeah.” He adjusts his position so he’s sitting up, leaning on his elbows. “Gold is such a waste, don’t you think? You’re worth much more, in my opinion.”

The look of anger on Y/N’s face dissipates, replaced instead by a small smile. They cough into their arm in order to hide it.

“Of course, your kissing could use more work.” He smirks wider, raising an eyebrow. He moves closer to Y/N, giving them a quick peck on the mouth. “Would you like to practice some more? I think we’ve got some time before Lady Brienne and Ser Carac wake.”

Y/N rolls their eyes. “What makes you think I would want to do that?”

“Perhaps it was the way you were throwing yourself at me last night,” Pod responds arrogantly.

Y/N scoffs. “That’s entirely untrue. If I recall, it was you who started it all.”

“I disagree. You and all that ‘prove it’ nonsense, yeah? You were basically begging me to kiss you, I think.”

“Well, you’ve thought wrong, as per usual.”

Pod nods his head, mocking. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So I’m wrong to say that you like me?”

“Absolutely wrong.”

“Alright. So I won’t kiss you then.”

“Good. Don’t.”

“Good. I won’t.”

Pod starts to stand up, but Y/N pulls him back down. He raises an eyebrow.

“What’s this, then?” He asks, triumphantly.

“I said I didn’t want you to kiss me,” Y/N whispers, pressing their forehead against Podrick’s. “I never said anything about me kissing you.”

“Hm. Fair enough.”

Y/N laughs before pressing their lips to his. He slowly pushes them backwards, hands interlocked as he lays on top of them.

“You’re a pain in my ass, Podrick Payne.”

Pod laughs. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

[yourlocallunatic]

My Lady.

podrick payne x Lannister f!reader

18+

summary: Bastard daughter of Jamie Lannister you’ve stayed in the Red Keep as a ladies maid without your family's knowledge, after Jeoffrey dies it’s no longer safe for you so your father sends you with his new ally.

warnings: smutttt! piv sex, oral, m & f receiving. lovey dovey shit. lannister trauma. probably some typos….sue me.

WC: 7.4k

The commotion during the week after your cousin's death was something you hadn’t seen since the former King Baratheon died and the ‘usurper’ Ned Stark was beheaded. They were questioning you, you knew they would—you had been working for Sansa Stark ever since she arrived in King’s Landing, of course, her ladies' maid would know something of her disappearance as well as her new husbands. You and Shae had been asked to testify against Tyrion in the trial, you knew you couldn't testify against your uncle without revealing your true lineage. Not many knew of it, but your uncle was one of them.

You'd been waiting in your chambers silently for days, sneaking out only to steal food from the kitchens. When your door busted open suddenly you thought the worst, Cersei had found you out, or even worse Lord Tywin, he wouldn't think for a second before killing you. A bastard in his family. How shameful.

"My daughter, come with me now," you were shocked to see your father, he didn't engage with you unless absolutely necessary. As devastating as it was that you hardly ever saw him, you knew it was for your safety. You glance down to his now golden hand, having only heard from the other maids and squires of what happened to him. "Come, quickly now, pack a sack we don't have much time." what were his plans now though? He'd only just gotten back.

"What are we doing?" you began to slowly gather a couple of dresses and slips, but Jamie was clearly in much more of a rush, tearing a long, grey cloak from your cabinet before unbuckling a golden, lion-pommeled dagger and tossing them in a bag.

"You mustn't use this unless you need to. And we aren't doing anything you are going away."

"But you told me it was safer here, where you are!" you picked up the pace, tying your bag together as your father draped your cloak and hood over you, nearly completely concealing your face, "I can't see anything! Can't you just tell me what's happening?"

"Keep your voice down please," he whispered grabbing your hand before tearing into the hallway. "I'll explain in a moment I promise." You huffed quietly—annoyed—but following him anyway. What else could you do but trust him? You had no one else to trust.

Winding through the halls you came to an abrupt stop outside the back entrance of the Keep. And there stood a woman you'd never seen before, she was beautiful in a way you'd never expect, tall, impressive, mighty, her eyes a striking blue. This had to be Brienne of Tarth, the woman you had heard brought your father back to King's Landing.

"Brienne please," you had never once heard your father plead. "This is the one favor I'll ask of you," he speaks to Brienne as you walk to the edge of the forest where there are three horses and two men waiting. "And here he is, your last gift," he says smiling as he pulls one of the men next to him. You knew his face. Podrick Payne. He was your uncle's squire. You two had often seen each other in passing once Tyrion and Sansa had gotten married, he was a quiet boy, but always spared a smile and a nod towards you. And you had noticed just how gorgeous his smile was. You pull your hood over your face a tad more, not knowing if you could really trust him yet.

"I don't need a squire. She'll slow me down enough already," Brienne scoffed and nodded her head in your direction.

"I won't slow you down ser-... my lady," Podrick quickly fixed his mistake before promising to serve Brienne well. The other man, Bronn you think his name was, a friend of Lord Tyrion's handed Podrick an axe before rushing him off to ready the horses.

"I trusted you to get me back to the Keep, and now I'm trusting you with my daughter. She's safest outside of King's Landing." your father glances at you and then back at Brienne, "she's been found out. If not yet then at tomorrow's trial. I can't have her killed." You look at him before grabbing his golden hand.

"Please don't. She said it herself, I'll slow her down! I can find a better place here, in the city so you can keep an eye on me!" You beg.

"You know I can't darling," he brings his hand to your face stroking your falling hair away from your eyes, "You know how jealous your aunt can get, and how protective your grandfather can get of our family. They'll find you here." you may not have known him well enough but he was your father, the only family you'd had for years. Tears welled in your eyes before you wrapped your arms around him. He held you tight, it was the first you'd been held in years, and you relished the moment. "I trust Brienne, and if you trust me, you'll trust her, Podrick's a good lad too! You know him, they keep you safe." you pulled away from him and sniffed, wiping your tears away.

"The horses are ready my lady," Podrick walked back towards you and Brienne.

"Very well. Get the lady on her horse and we'll be off soon."

"Yes, my lady."

"I'm not a lady, get her on the horse," she says sharply. You gave one more look to your father before walking with Podrick, leaving your father and Brienne to talk.

"Have you ever been North, my lady?" Podrick strikes up a conversation as he ties your bag to the back of the horse, securing the saddle before kneeling before you and setting his hand out to help you on the horse. You hadn't seen him his close before, freckles scattered his cheeks and his warm chocolate eyes stared into yours as he recognized who you were. His brows furrowed but he didn't ask questions. The loyalty of a squire.

"Never, I don't suppose I'll like it though. I'm not fond of the cold," you answer, smiling slightly to try and lighten the mood. Your hand rests on his broad shoulder as he lifts you to the horse. You let out a small yelp as you went, not expecting the strength he had, you quickly tried to play it off "Gods I hate horses, haven't ridden one in years, and last time I did I nearly got stepped on." He chuckles at you as he adjusts the stirrups for you.

"Well I'm sure he could teach you to ride," Bronn comes from the other side of the horse, patting Podrick on the back roughly as Podrick glared at him. Giving you the impression that he was often teased by the older man.

"Not sure I'd help, I haven't ridden in a while either," he turns back to you, giving you a shy smile as Brienne and Jamie start back towards you.

"Wasn't talking about horses," Bronn smirks and ruffles the top of Podrick's head, the younger man trying to push him away. "See, this lad's got a magic cock, all the girls in King's landing want him now, three whores turned away a load of gold 'cause he was that good."

"Shut up!" Podrick growls as he walks away to mount his horse, redness growing on his cheeks. You knew your face was growing hot too at the image. You'd heard plenty of stories from the other ladies' maids about what intimacy was like, and hardly ever did you hear of it being good, let alone good enough to turn away money. You adjust yourself on your saddle, a warmth quickly settling in your belly.

"Better make sure your daughter watches herself around that lad!" Bronn walks past your father patting him on the back. Your father's eyes now stare darkly at the squire who looked absolutely humiliated.

"I hear anything about you touching my daughter I'll have Brienne chop that 'magic cock' off in your sleep," Podrick looked utterly shocked, his daughter? But it was quickly replaced but fear. "You hear me, boy?" Your father's hand moved to hold the handle of the sword at his side.

"O-of course, Ser! I would never, I-I'm a gentleman, I've always respected your daughter." A blush begins to form at the tips of your ears, respect. You look to him to give him a reassuring smile and nod, just like the ones he'd give you every time you saw each other.

"Keep her safe, Brienne. Keep your oath." and that was the last you saw of your father for quite some time.

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

Traveling with Brienne and Podrick had actually been somewhat enjoyable. Minus sleeping outside every night and enduring Brienne's constant grumpiness you were actually getting used to it. You and Podrick just grew closer and closer, each telling one another stories of your squiring and maid days.

Once, he questioned your lineage, and you gave him the truth. "My mother died when I was young, she was a Lady of the Court, Jamie didn't know I was his child until right before she passed. And well... you know the rumors about him and the Queen...she wouldn't have taken well to knowing he had a child that wasn't hers. Foul of them both honestly..."

"What happened after that?" Podrick urged on gently, looking at you from where he rode next to you on his horse, you could tell he was trying his best not to pry but was too curious.

"Well, he had me raised in the Keep. I worked since I could walk, in kitchens, wait staff, whatever you could think of. He always made sure I knew who he was, hardly ever saw him though."

"Does anyone else know?"

"My septa, I'm sure Varys knows because Tyrion found out recently and who else would he hear it from?" you laugh at the absurdity of the thought that your uncle had a whole other niece living under his roof and he of all people didn't know. He smiles at your story, not a single bit of judgment in his eyes.

You too had learned so much more about the sweet man that squired your uncle, even hearing of the time he and Bronn had forced Podrick to tell them everything that had happened in Littlefinger's brothel the night the women turned away the gold. That story had been told after one evening you three had spent quite a while in a tavern, seeking the warmth from the rain with fire, and probably too much ale. He had been so embarrassed the next morning when Brienne told him to stop bragging about how good he was in the bedroom.

"What are you talking about? I didn't brag about anything!" He'd said defensively as he readied your horses the next day, his face already going red. That was also the first time you heard Brienne laugh.

"If I recall, you said word for word," she said before deepening her voice to imitate Pod "'Oh Y/N, they just wouldn't stop asking! How many times am I supposed to say that I'm just good, it's all about receiving and giving.'" Podrick's mouth dropped open as he shook his head looking between the two of you.

"I-I, no I didn't say that!" he looked at you for a response and all you could do was shrug and give him an awkward smile that confirmed his fears. He looked down at his feet, ashamed, "Never let me drink that much ale again." and he was silent most of the day's ride.

As embarrassed as he was you were even more aroused. The man had grown on you, he was sweet, and always looked after you and Brienne before doing anything for himself. It didn't help that one evening he was without a tunic for a while as you washed it in the creek. He sparred with Brienne, he was getting stronger from his training, you could see it as you watched the muscles in his chest and abdomen ripple as the swords clanged together, or his arms tensing as he held defense against Brienne. He had caught your eye as you were looking at him, but you swiftly turned away in embarrassment, practically drooling. Then it had been you that didn't talk for most of the next day's ride.

Some weeks after that, you sat by a fire after the longest day you'd had. Sansa rejecting Brienne's protection, and her not trusting you for one second after she found out who you were. You'd been chased by some of Littlefinger's men, losing both Brienne and Podrick for some time. It was the first time you'd been in that much danger since Brienne defeated the Hound. Brienne slept a ways away, claiming she was too irritated with Pod to stand the sight of him. Your legs were tucked underneath you and you held your hands close to the fire.

"Are you cold, my lady?" his voice held a teasing tone, you'd told him many a time you weren't a lady, but he didn't stop, and you knew he called you that just to tease you. You were in no mood for it though, the girl you'd known and cared for for years now didn't trust you. Littlefinger had gotten into her head. You were angry, at her, at Baelish, at your father for leaving you, your mother for dying, at Brienne for picking on Podrick, and even at Podrick himself for running off without you and leaving you.

"Of course I'm cold, we're in the North now Podrick," You spat out at him. You know you'd regret your harsh tone later but right now, fuck it.

"Have I upset you?" he says softly, just the sound of his voice melting your heart. You close your eyes, all the anger and heartbreak you've had today began to swim in your eyes. "Y/N..." gods his voice couldn't be more perfect, it broke you. A sob left your lips and they didn't stop. "Whoa, woah, what's going on?" you didn't hear him stand up from his side of the fire and make his way to you before he put an arm around you. You fell right into him, he was too warm to resist, too gentle. He shushed you and rocked you in his arms until the crying stopped.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Podrick," your voice nasally from crying "I shouldn't be mad but I am. I cared for Sansa, she became a sister to me and now she doesn't trust me. I cared for my father and he sent me off, I cared for my mother and she died before I could even speak, I care for you and you left me, I know it wasn't on purpose but I was so afraid without you. I'm sorry, I don't want to be mad but I can't help it!" you choked out another sob before he looked at you and wrapped his arms around you again.

"No, no, don't say sorry, it's alright, it was a hard day, you can be mad. I-I hate that I left you...I promise I d-didn't mean to but the horse..." he trailed off pulling back to look you in the eyes. Gods you loved those damned eyes, his brows were pulled together as you stared each other in the eye, not a look of pity, just sympathy. You lean forward to rest your head against his chest, so worn from the long day. He smelt of fire smoke and evergreens. It felt so right you didn't even realize this was the closest you two had been to one another. His strong arms held you close and he rested his chin atop your head. You wondered if this felt just as right to him as it did to you.

"Pod?" you break the peaceful silence and he hums an answer in response not wanting to let go of you, "Do you care for me too?" these words made him let go, looking at you with a mixture of confusion and nerves.

"W-what?"

"I-um, said before that I cared for you, do you care for me too?" his mouth closed and opened like a fish out of the water as he searched for words, always so unsure of himself.

"Of-of course I do! I'm here to protect you." those weren't the words you'd wanted him to say.

"No, Podrick, do you care for me?"

What little remaining confidence he had left his body, he closed his eyes tightly gathering whatever courage might be inside of him before opening them and looking you in the eye, moving quietly to grab the side of your face, still wet with tears. "Yes. Very much." the tension left your body and a smile grew on your face. Your hands moved to grab behind his neck and pull his forehead to yours.

"Please, kiss me Pod, I want to know how you feel."

And he didn't even hesitate to smash his lips to yours and practically swallowing you whole. This Podrick was different, he was moved by passion and love and lust. He wasn't the clumsy boy right now, this was the broad-shouldered man you saw sparring (of course they were both just as good, they were both your Podrick). He took hold of your body and didn't let go, one of his hands was entangled in your hair holding the back of your head to pull you closer, and the other gripped your hips tightly, he was feral. You held the sides of his face and gently pushed him away so you could come up for air. You made eye contact and began to giggle at him, he let out a huff of a laugh before resting his forehead on yours.

"Sorry," he mumbled becoming the shy Pod again, "I've been wanting to do that for so long now."

"Me too."

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

More weeks had passed and more things had changed. You and Podrick would sneak hidden hugs in the mornings and quiet kisses in the night when the dark had fallen. As much as you'd both like to believe you were keeping a good secret, Brienne could feel the change, she could see it in the glances and little smiles you gave each other. You'd continued to follow Sansa so Brienne could fulfill her oath. But when you came upon the aftermath of the battle between the Boltons and Stannis things went downhill. Everything was all over the place, and when you finally found Sansa she and the Greyjoy boy were being attacked by men from Ramsey's army. As Brienne and Pod went to take down the men you rushed to Sansa, you jumped off your horse and pulled her up from the ground. You watched from afar, the dagger your father gave you at your side. Your heart raced in your chest as you followed Podrick with your eyes, watching from every angle to ensure he was safe. He ended up on his back—swordless—with a man about to kill him, your body betrayed you, and standing from your safety you rushed right to him, "Podrick!" you screamed as you ran, hoping to reach him before the man struck. Your breath was stuck in your lungs but released when Theon struck the man from behind. The two men nodded at each other, Podrick's a sign of thanks.

"Oh gods," you rush to him the rest of the way and throw yourself on top of him, "I almost lost you!" you cried into his cloak.

"You won't lose me, my lady," he shoved you off of him and stood to help you up, "not now." he pressed a kiss to your forehead, not giving a flying fuck Brienne was watching. You made eye contact with her, looking away shyly and burying your face in Podrick's chest. You didn't see the small smile that graced her lips.

A few more days passed and you came to Castle Black, Sansa had apologized for not trusting you, and you gave your own apology for not telling her the whole truth. She was stubborn, it would be a slow rebuild of trust, but you could already see the young girl you first knew peeking through. Just before you reached the castle you and Sansa rode on one horse behind the two others. Podrick had looked back at you and you gave each other a shy smile. As confident as he could be sometimes, usually his nervousness won out, but so did yours.

"You love him don't you?" Sansa's voice rang behind you quietly.

"I really do," your voice sounded dreamy, something it never did. Perhaps something good might come out of this.

Jon and Sansa had reunited and things were calm for a moment. You were able to bathe, eat, and sleep in a bed covered with furs. The North was cold, you hated it just as much as you thought.

"My lady," Podrick came to sit next to you in the hall where you tried to keep warm by the fire. You immediately pull him closer trying to gather any warmth you could, "Why aren't you in bed?" he asks as he takes off his cloak to drape it around you.

"My room is freezing! I can't sleep in there! Thought in here I could at least sit by the fire."

"I don't like the thought of you here alone, the men of the Night's Watch, lots of them are dangerous...why haven't you just lit the fire in your room? That should warm you." he rubbed slow circles on your back, but your quick turn to look at him startled him back an inch.

"There is no fire in my room, don't you think I'd have lit it by now?!" the cold made you intensely irritable but you still snuggled closer to him. "Wait... Pod? You have a fire in your room?"

"Uhm...yes? You don't?"

"NO! I just said so! Ohh that is so unfair! I bet it's because I'm a woman, the fuckers."

"Hey it's alright," He says trying to calm you, "You can um, you can stay in my room if you'd like." He looks you in the eye and your gaze softens.

"Really?"

"'Course, the fire's already going, should be nice n' warm already."

"Take me there m'lord oh the chill has seeped into my bones! I need a big strong man to help me!" you faint into him dramatically. He laughs at your bad attempt at acting and helps you to your feet.

"Let's go then, my lady."

He was right the room was already warm and cozy, filled with his scent from the worn leather tunic resting over the chair. You immediately took off both of the cloaks that now rested on you and kicked off your boots, flopping into the bed and under the furs, kicking your feet as you inhaled his scent. From the door he smiled gently at you, seven hells he was head over heels.

"Goodnight then, my lady," He moved to open the door, his cheeks red as he watched you cuddling into the bed.

"Podrick? You're not staying?" the thought of him leaving had you on your feet and straight to him before he can set his hand on the knob. You pull his arm away and bring it to you.

"I don't think we should..." He looks away from you clearly very nervous about something.

"Do you not want to? I can just go back to my room, I just thought... maybe you'd want to be together, while we have the chance," you look up at him through your lashes, confused at why he'd want to leave.

"No, no, I-Just. I really don't think I could...is all," your brows pull together trying to understand, he sees the confusion and continues to explain as he moves to hold your face in his hands, "You. Lying next to me. In bed? I-I don't think I could control myself if I wanted to."

Realization flooded your expression and then you began to think. You. Him. All those stories he'd so stupidly bragged about, the thoughts of his naked chest consumed you. You'd wondered what he looked like below that too. You hadn't been with a man, not like that. A few kisses here and there but this? Something different entirely. And you wanted it. You wanted him to make you feel good, just as he'd said. So you plucked up the courage.

"Then don't," you stepped closer to him taking his hands and moving them from your face to your waist, "please Podrick? I trust you."

Every ounce of his self-control was now gone in the wind as you all but pleaded for him. "Fuck." he cursed pulling you into him and pressing his lips to yours. The Podrick you saw the night by the fire was here again, and he was hungry. You didn't hear him curse often but this, his raspy, needy voice felt like fire in your veins. You didn't think it was possible for him to hold you any closer as his face buried into your neck and his lips trailed down, nipping and licking and sucking. You'd never felt anything so heavenly.

"Pod, I... I want to see you," you pant out, beginning to pull at the strings of the thin under-tunic he was left in after he'd given you his cloak in the hall. He helped, finally pulling the top over his head and leaving his chest bare. You immediately began to trail your hands down him, feeling every single inch as you had so often dreamed of doing. "So perfect," you whisper, beginning to place feather-light kisses across the span of his chest.

"Y/N, you um, you need to tell me if you really want this, I don't want to take something from you if you value it," he spoke quietly and shyly as you continued running your hand all over him, feeling the strength of his arms, the broadness of his shoulders, the smoothness of his chest. How could you not want this?

"I want this, it is important to me, and I want you to have it," you look him in the eye, speaking your truth, "Show me, Podrick, I want it." You take your hands away from him and begin to undo the ties of your dress, wanting him to see you for all you are. He watches you intensely. Short, quick breaths leave him as he feels himself growing harder and harder within the confines of his breeches. You were magnificent, your dress slowly fell down your body and pooled on the ground by your feet. Podrick couldn't help but stare and stare and stare. The longer he did the more nervous you grew, slowly moving your hands to cover yourself.

"No," his voice was low, full of desire, "don't cover yourself, you're fucking breathtaking," he gasped out. He sounded confident, and dominant, but not in a demeaning way, in a way that made you feel loved and cared for. He reached out, grabbing your breasts in his hands and plucking softly at your hardening peaks. A soft gasp left you and he covered your mouth with his, slipping his tongue inside as he continued caressing you. His hands went lower and lower, reaching around to your backside and giving it a quick squeeze making you moan into his mouth. "You trust me, yes?" he asks, and you nod continuing to kiss him, moving to his neck like he had done to you. Shit. He tasted so good. "I want to hear you say it," he speaks, pulling your head away with the hand he now held on your cheek.

"I trust you. I love you. Do whatever you want to me," the desperation was evident in your voice and your actions as you couldn't take your hands off of him.

"Go lay down," he kissed your forehead softly before pushing you gently towards the bed. The back of your legs hit the bed and you fell back, leaving your legs hanging down. A stroke of confidence befell you and you opened your legs slightly, showing him your pussy on full display. He walked towards you excruciatingly slow and when he finally reached you he touched you so very lightly. He traced his fingers across your hip-bones, across the tops of your thighs and right down in-between, so close to where you needed him. "You've uh, have you touched yourself before?" a tremor of anxiety running through him. You meet his gaze as his hands grow closer to your center, you nod at him shyly, should you be ashamed? He quickly answers your question. "Yeah? Good." Then it happens, his rough, calloused fingers finally meet where you most need him. He's so slow it almost kills you, dragging his fingers up and down gathering your arousal on his fingertips before bringing them to your throbbing bud. He elicits the most desperate sound out of your throat. "Is that where you touch? Is that where it feels good?"

"Yes, yesyes. It feels so good," you didn't recognize your own voice so desperate and wanton. Your head falls back against the furs on the bed as he continues his work, then OH gods. You feel his soft, wet tongue touch your center. Your head whips up and you look him straight in the eye from where his mouth connects to you, as his eyes meet yours he lets out a groan, and his eye slip shut fully enamored with the taste of your pussy. You hadn't ever felt anything so perfect, but maybe he'd change your mind later. His fingers massage the insides of your thighs as he laps and sucks at you. For the sake of the Night's Watch, you try your hardest to contain your noises but when a finger slips up and starts circling around your entrance you lose it, slapping a hand to your mouth to muffle your moans. His finger slips in slowly—too slowly—and you buck your hips forward aching for more.

"Be patient, I want to make sure you're comfortable," Podrick mumbles against your pussy, you can barely hear him but listen anyway as he works you open. A second finger joins soon and he sucks and licks your clit while his fingers move in and out of you, steadily building up a pace.

"Oh Pod, please don't stop, it feels so, so, good," your hand moves down slowly working its way into his hair and holding firmly as he does as you say, not stopping for a second. You can see his torso rhythmically jutting forward, trying to grind himself against something—anything. That brings you so close to the edge thinking of him, just as desperate as you are. A couple more laps of his tongue against your clit and a single groan into your pussy and you're falling over the edge. You pant and squirm as his motions don't let up. "Podrick, Pod, I can't 's too much," He finally pulls away from you, taking his slick-covered fingers and sticking them in his mouth, sucking away your juices. A down-right sultry moan leaves your lips at the sight and you slap your hand to your mouth before falling back against the bed again.

"Was that alright?" he asks, his hair is tousled and he slowly kisses up your body stopping to lick across your nipples, tugging one with his teeth slightly.

"Alright? You're a god Podrick," you pull his face to yours kissing him deeply. "Does it feel that good for you too? Can I make you feel like that?" He chuckles at your eagerness and kisses you again.

"I imagine it would with your mouth, but I want you to feel good tonight," now laying beside you, you see the evident tent in his breeches. You reach your hand down and grip him through his pants, moving up and down against the hard length experimentally.

"Please, Pod? It's only fair," you grin at him and he nods quickly at you, the pleasure too intense for him to just ignore. You shuffle down the furs and untie his breeches, letting your fingers drag down the curls on his lower belly and groin as you do so. You remove his pants quickly, you are just as desperate to taste him as he is to feel you. You move your hand up and down his length, leaning down to suck the drops of him from his tip.

"Gods, fuck, Y/N."

"Tell me what to do," you look up at him, he was so needy and desperate to feel you around his cock, but he'd let you have your fun first.

"Spit on it," and you do just as he says, you let the spit dribble down your chin and fall right on his cock, "now keep going up and down." following his directions you stroke him at a steady pace. "You can use your mouth too," more of a suggestion than direction but you dive right in taking his length in your mouth, doing just what felt right taking him deeper and deeper, and rubbing what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Woah. Now that you had your mouth and hand around him you realized just how large he was, would he fit? Thoughts coursed through your head as you continued your ministrations. So caught up you didn't hear his voice till he pulled your head off of him with the hand that was weaved through your hair. "Stop, stop," you heard the gasps and immediately grew worried.

"Was it not good?"

"It was too good," he huffed, out of breath, "I want to fuck you before I finish." his words brought you to reality a small fear settling deep in your gut. Your expression must've betrayed you because his hand moved to cradle your face. "We-we don't have to, whatever you want to do, I won't make you, my lady," he pecks your cheek and looks you in the eye waiting for a response.

"I-just...do you think you're going to fit?" genuine worry laced in your voice. He tried his best not to giggle at you, this version of you was so different from your normal snarky self.

"I got you nice and ready for me, if it hurts too much you say the word and I'll stop, I promise," how could one man be so utterly perfect? He shuffled out from underneath you and in one swoop you were now beneath him. His shining eyes stare down at you in adoration. His hand moves down to mess with your pussy again, moving your slick all around to make sure you were nice and wet for him, all the while keeping eye contact and watching your face contort in pleasure. “you want me to fuck you?” his voice was laced with lust but also a genuine concern for you. You nod vigorously, not being able to wait another second. His hand drifted away from your cunt causing a whine to leave your mouth. Taking his cock in his hand he pumps it a few times before taking the head and rubbing it all through your slick.

“Please, please,” you moan out reaching for his shoulders to pull him into you, your nails desperately scraping down his back.

“Please what?” his voice was teasing and you could tell this was his way of taking back every time he had been teased, flipping it around to make you a frustrated, whiny mess under him.

“Ugh, please Podrick, I want you to fuck me! I want to feel you inside of me, please,” you’d never been so desperate for anything in your life.

“‘Course love, whatever you want, I’m gonna go slow, ‘right?” you silently thank him for his consideration, he knew you were nervous, but you knew he would take care of you, just as he always did. The stretch was magnificent. He slid into you, taking his time and watching your reactions. A small wince at the dull pain that made you feel so achingly full, and an open-mouthed look of pure pleasure as he fully sheathed himself inside of you. “this good?” he asked, you could tell he was trying his hardest to hold himself back for your sake.

“‘S good Pod, please keep going,” your hands were still in his back practically digging your claws into him. Then he pulled out and pushed back inside in one motion, a loud moan left your lips as he groaned out a curse. You were squeezing him so nicely. His pace slowly formed as he kept moving in and out, his forehead falling against yours and your hot breaths mingling together as you panted and moaned. He rutted into you as he held you close, closer than anything you’d felt, you were one.

“That’s it, love,” this new name had you keening your head back. “knew you could take it, take me.” his words were barely coherent and he kept thrusting into you. You felt so full, so good, it was everything you could've hoped for.

"Love you, love you so much," your words made him groan out a "fuck" and he picked up his pace, fucking into you like a madman.

"Love you so much, you're—oh gods, fuck—doing so, so well," you could feel the sweat dripping down his back from where you held and you knew he was holding himself back as best as he could. Podrick was a sweet man, probably the kindest you'd ever met, but what you felt now wasn't kindness, it was desperation, fierce desperation to fuck you and fuck you good and hard. You knew men got like this, so eager for sex, you'd heard the stories about how violent they could get, but you'd never thought about Podrick having the same needs. He wouldn't escalate to violence, not ever, but you could feel the hunger in his thrusts as he gripped your hips tightly. The warmth from before started growing in your belly again, winding up and ready to break; and it got even more intense when he moved a hand from your hip back closer to your center, putting his calloused thumb right on your aching bud and rubbing it in circles. Your needy whines grew more desperate and your nails dug harder into his back—undoubtedly leaving marks. "Feel good?" he asked yet again, constantly making sure everywhere he touched you brought intense pleasure. You nod against his shoulder and move your legs to wrap around him. "There you go, m' getting close love," he grunted out, his thrusts growing sloppier. You cry out as the intense feeling washes over you again and he continues rubbing your clit to work you through it. As soon as it's finished he pulls out of you quickly, spilling himself all over your stomach and tugging on his cock as his spend continues to leak out of him before grunting once more and flopping next to you. Both of you pant hard, trying to recover from the intense feelings. His seed pooled on your stomach stickily and you reached a hand to run your fingers through it before moving them to your mouth and sucking his flavor off of them. You wouldn't lie and say it tasted good, but it was his essence and that alone aroused you again. He looked over at you and smiled cheekily before kissing your forehead.

"Could you, uhm..." you say nodding downwards to where his seed lay cooling on you.

"Oh-oh, 'course, sorry," He jumped up from the bed, the shy Pod returning with a rag and cleaning you off. His face was red, all of a sudden nervous as he realized what you two had just done. "That was good, right? I didn't hurt you or anything?" he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as he used the other to stroke up and down your thigh, comforting you.

"It was amazing," you smile at him, trying to be reassuring before a smirk grows on your face. "Glad I was able to feel that 'magic cock' after all," you poked his ribs.

"Gods, I wish Bronn had never said anything, I wish I had never said anything!" he whined, moving off the bed to put his breeches back on, turning his face away from you.

"Come on Pod! I'm just teasing, you know I love it," you sit up and cover yourself with the furs, your body growing cold again as your sweat dries. "Come lay with me please," you beg, "just be with me." He turns his head back to you his brows curving down in adoration, your braids became messy and your lips were flushed pink from all the kissing. You'd never have any idea of how much he truly did love you. He walked back to the bed and rolled under the furs, pulling you into him and holding you tight.

"Sleep. You should be warm enough now, my lady," you giggled as you nuzzled your head into his neck and fell into a dreamless sleep.

When you woke the next morning Podrick was gone. Your heart dropped as you thought of countless reasons as to why he would leave. Was he done with you now? Was he ashamed of you? You got dressed quickly and tried your best to fix the mess your hair was without undoing the braids you had from yesterday. You opened the door slowly, looking both ways making sure no one would see you leaving Pod's chambers. You made your way to the hall for breakfast, still seeing no sign of Podrick. You sat beside Sansa with your bowl of oats and pushed it around with your spoon.

"You, uh—you haven't seen Podrick have you?" you asked her quietly, still worried he had just up and left.

"Don't worry, I saw him walking with Brienne to go train," she gave you a cheeky smile. "he had quite the smile on his face too." you blush at the thought of seeing him so happy because of you. You hurry to finish your breakfast so you can make your way out to see him.

You stood on the upper level, looking down on the yard where Podrick was sparring against a new member of the Night's Watch, Brienne watched from afar, occasionally shouting directions out to Podrick. Even though his skills were improving he still had a long way to go to match Brienne's level, that being said you had never seen him win a match against her. But sparring against this boy, someone more his size and skill level, he was doing amazing. He'd knocked the sword out of the boy's hand and walked closer to him, pointing his sword directly at his chest and smirking at him. Wow. You really must've given him the stroke of confidence that he needed. A steady smile sat on your face and you looked around only to see Brienne already staring at you. Her gaze was hard and your smile fell, she moved her head in one short movement to signal you to come down to the lower level. You walked towards her gradually, slightly worried about what she might want to speak to you about. As you reach her side, Podrick begins another round against the boy, catching your eye and giving a sweet smile (for luck he would tell himself, but really it just distracted him).

"Podrick seems happy this morning," Brienne states, eyeing you sideways.

"Suppose he does yes," you feign innocently.

"You weren't in your room this morning," your face falls and a blush grows rapidly on your face.

"I-I was in the kitchens.."

"Oh don't play coy, I know very well what happened," she looks you in the eye, very clearly feeding off your nervousness. "Just be careful, and don't let your father know or he'd have me chop off his 'magic cock' just like he said before we left. And as much as I'd like to do just that sometimes..." she trails off and looks back to Pod fighting before smiling softly at you, "he really makes you happy?"

"Yes, he really does," you turn to watch the man you love continue his fight before disarming the other lad again and putting the sword to his throat. Seven hells, he grew more and more handsome by the day. You could see his stubble shining in the winter sun as he looked to smile proudly at you and his eye glowed with joy. Yes, he made you very, very, happy.

[catsteeth]

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader 

+:✿ Chapter 2 ✿:+ : Beautiful Girl

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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

[llonelygoddess]

How they react to...Finding out you're pregnant

Romantic Pairings: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Theon Greyjoy, Jaime Lannister, Khal Drogo, Jorah Mormont, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Gendry

Ned Stark: This man is over the moon when you tell him you’re expecting. He’s raised 5 already but for you he’d raise another 5 if possible lol He’s always got his hands on your belly and asking if you need anything. His favorite thing to do is talking to the baby later at night when you’re asleep, whispering how much it’ll be loved and cared for by the both of you.

Margaery Tyrell: Thrilled. You two definitely planned this pregnancy so she’s thrilled to hear you’ve finally conceived. She’s keeping Maesters around the clock just for you and making sure you have regular check ups. You both love looking at all the fabrics and books and toys you’ll be gifting your baby. She wants this child to have everything she had and more, so beware your child may be spoiled rotten lol

Pre Reek!Theon Greyjoy: Theon doesn’t even know what to say. He’s nervous about what that would mean for you and the child title wise. Would the babe be labeled a bastard? Would you be treated as a whore? The questions will drive him crazy if you don’t bring him back down to earth. As much as he’s there for you, you have to be there for him during this time.

Jaime Lannister: In the beginning he’s more worried than anything. Knowing how crazy Cersei is he has to hide you away, promising to be with you soon. Once he finds a way to sneak away to you for good, he’s all hands on deck. He’d learn to cook a bit, take up the cleaning, even learn to stitch a little to give the baby an embroidered blanket. It’s not what you expected but considering his other kids barely know him it makes sense how serious he is about this one. He wants to get it right this time.

Khal Drogo: He sees you as his goddess, mesmerized with the way you carry his child. He kisses your belly and announces it to the whole Khalasar. During your pregnancy he doesn’t baby you, finding beauty in your strength, but he is wary of you being around the other men. They’re rough and callous and you are soft and breakable, something that keeps him up at night. Whenever he goes out riding he always comes back with a gift that he presents to you in front of everyone.

Jorah Mormont: He never thought he’d be lucky enough to have children, especially with someone as special as you. He’s definitely crying when he hears the news. He can’t help it, a family of his own is all he’s ever wanted. Even knowing how strong you are, he’ll ask you to stay home and to let him do any and all work that needs to be done. He’s heard horror stories of pregnancies going wrong and he refuses to let anything happen to you.

Brienne of Tarth: Finding out you're pregnant would be the scariest moment of her life. Which isn't to say she doesn't want kids, but the world you live in wasn't ready for a relationship like yours. Two non-men finding love within each other wasn't accepted, let alone them raising a child together. Eventually, through many talks with you and Podrick, she calms down enough to enjoy this special moment in time with you.

Missandei: When Missandei first finds out, she's immediately in preparation mode. With the life she's lived she knows how cruel and evil life can be, so she takes it upon herself to make everything as perfect for you and the babe as possible. She’s asking Danaerys for healers and compiling blankets and toys from nearby towns. You’ll want for nothing with her by your side. When she’s not in crisis mode she’s sitting with you in bed fantasizing about the languages and history she’ll teach the baby.

Podrick: He gets so overwhelmed when you tell him he faints. Poor bb. When he wakes he asks if it was a dream and when you tell him no he kisses you. He’s another one that never really thought about having a family but he’s more than ready and capable of doing it. He’s always gushing about you and the baby to Brienne or really anyone who’ll listen. Loves to put his ear to your belly and just listen.

Gendry: He never planned to have kids so young, but when you told him about the baby he realized this was his moment to step up and be better. Being a Lord now he’s able to take care of you in ways he never thought he could. Giving you a handmaid and guards is just the beginning of how he wants to support you. He worries all nine months about whether he'll be good enough for your babe, so please rub his back and tell him he'll be the best dad ever. And he will.

[beautifultypewriter]

Hi! I love your account, I’ve been reading your Game of Thrones stuff (I actually just finished the show for the first time!) and I was wondering if you would write another Podrick x reader work? You can take it however you want, maybe the two of them having feelings for each other and dancing around it until something/someone makes them admit it? Pod quickly became my favorite character, he’s too good and trustworthy! Thanks for reading all this! :)

Hi!! Thank you so much and I’m so sorry for the delay! I love this concept though! So cute and so perfect for Pod. I love him. Before anyone comes for me, I know this is not how the dynamics were in the show, but I don’t care. I’m doing what I want. Hope you like it!

*Also this kind of has spoilers for the later seasons, so proceed with caution I guess*

Sansa had stopped talking when she noticed that you had stopped responding. She followed your line of sight and smirked as she saw what had taken all of your attention. She cleared her throat and your eyes snapped back to her, your cheeks heating up as she gave you a sly smile, “Something distracting you?”

You scoffed, looking away from her, “Not at all, my lady.” Slowly you turned back to her and she shook her head.

“You should just say something to him,” she looked off into the distance, her face turning grim, “life is short.” You slipped your gloved hand into hers, squeezing it gently. She forced a smile and met your gaze, squeezing your hand back.

You gave her a soft smile, “I really appreciate your advice, but I think it’s best,” Sansa’s smile turned into a smirk as she quickly glanced at something over your shoulder before meeting your gaze again. Your eyebrows furrowed, but you continued, “If I just-”

“Sorry to interrupt,” you froze as the voice reached your ears, the man seeming not to notice as he went on, “but I wonder if I might have a word.” You turned your head to see Podrick looking directly at you and you felt your heartbeat quicken. He turned quickly to Sansa, “If it would not be an inconvenience, my lady.” He looked between the two of you, waiting for one of you to reply.

Sansa continued to smirk as she pushed you towards the man, “Of course not.” She nudged you again, “Please take all the time you need.” Slowly she turned to look at you, her brows lifted slightly as she waited for you to say something.

Holding up your hand, you opened your mouth, “Um…” Closing your mouth, you looked at Sansa and then at Podrick, “Actually, I have forgotten that I am meant to meet with Arya,” you pointed over your shoulder, taking slow steps backwards in the snow, “so I really should get going.” Your pace quickened slightly and you hoped you would stay on your feet as you forced a smile to your lips.

Podrick was frowning as he reached towards you, though he knew you were too far away for him to reach, “Perhaps we could speak later?”

You waved a dismissive hand, “Sure!” Spinning on your heel, you hurried away, stoping briefly to turn back towards the disaster you left behind, “I’ll find you.” You spun around again so quickly that you missed Podrick’s wave. Once you were out of the courtyard, he deflated. His shoulders sagged and his frown deepened, a million thoughts running through his mind, as he rubbed the back of his neck. Sansa stared at him, her own frown forming as she looked at the spot you had just disappeared from. Podrick glanced at her, the tips of his ears turning red as he remembered that she was still standing next to him.

He cleared his throat, “My apologies, my lady. I should…” He looked around the courtyard, trying to find something to get him away from his embarrassment.

Sansa gave him a soft smile as she gently patted his shoulder, “Don’t be discouraged. You should still tell them.” Podrick’s ears burned as he stuttered, trying to deny whatever the Lady of Winterfell was implying, but she only shook her head and walked away. Podrick was frozen in place, words still failing him as he watched her go in the same direction you had gone only minutes ago.

The hour was late when you got word that Sansa had wanted to speak with you. You rushed to her Solar, not wanting to keep her waiting. As you pushed the door open, you breathed heavily, “I’m here, my lady. What did you need…” any other words caught in your throat as you stared at Podrick. He was stood by the fireplace with a bunch of wildflowers clutched tightly in his fist. Sansa was no where to be found. The door fell shut behind you and your mind went blank. Pod smiled at you and you returned it, at least you hoped you did. You might have grimaced.

You were snapped from your thoughts as Podrick cleared his throat and held the flowers out to you, “Might we have that word now?” You could see the redness creeping up the back of his neck and a true smile broke out on your lips.

With a nod, you stepped closer and took the flowers from his outstretched hand, “I would like that.” Pod grinned and moved closer, his fingertips brushing gently against your knuckles.

[spxllcxstxr]

Main Masterlist

Game of Thrones Masterlist

Last Updated: Nov. 19, 2024

Falling Asleep with Podrick Payne

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Podrick just holds a special place in my heart. I love him so much 🥺

Quite the Formidable Team

Pairing: Podrick Payne x Reader Word Count: 2064 Characters: Podrick Payne, Brienne of Tarth (breifly), Reader Warning: it’s basically just smut!! and sometimes cute! i’ve seen next to no Pod smut, and yknow, he’s the sex god of Westeros and Pod got Hot. Synopsis: It’s simple really.  There’s a war coming and people fuck.  OH and everyone wants to know if the Pod rumours are true.  Maybe not Brienne tho. 

The day was young, weak sunlight was only just creeping over the horizon.  Winterfell was eerily quiet.  The night’s guard were still on duty, yet to be relieved by their sleeping comrades.  You wondered what your parents would say if they knew you’d travelled to the cold heart of the North to fight in a war against the dead.  The climate of Winterfell did not agree with you, a young woman far more used to salt in her hair and the kiss of the sun on her skin.  The company, however, did.  

Keep reading

[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

[fantasydreamland]

I’m such a sucker for game of thrones men

can’t even fit them all on one post

[k4marina]

— xi. A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: a one handed man comes to join the fight for the realm, a new knight of the seven kingdoms emerges, answers are given, and the dead march closer

warnings: got-cannon themes/violence/and language, angsty, swearing, not proofread, shits getting dangerous.

a/n: decided to add my own twist to planning and tbh idk why they didn't think to do what i said. working on the next episode as we speak as well as a classic "tony starks kid" fic, so if you're interest keep your eyes open.

series masterlist || next part

11.6k word count

game of thrones x modern!fem!reader

[gif is mine]

The news spread early in the morning that Jamie Lannister had arrived at Winterfell. He’d came with the many men who also traveled all throughout the long nights from other parts of the continent to fight against the army of the dead. The castle, and its inhabitants, had been thrown into a frenzy as the news spread leaving behind a million other questions.

Was he really here to help or is this another one of the Lannisters lies? Why is he all alone? Where are the other reinforcements? And if he’s here then– what about Cersei?

Three tables were set at the front of the hall. One at the front, one on the left and the other on the right. Jamie Lannister stood in front of us, like a criminal on trial, while a wall of Unsullied and Stark soldiers stood behind him at attention ready for their Queen’s command. He looked tired and disheveled, no doubt from riding North all day and night, and wore modest leather and wool clothes, stripped of any Lannister gold, aside from his hand.

At the head of the room, Daenerys sits in the middle while Jon, Sansa and I are sat at her sides. To the left is another table where Varys, Missandei, and Jorah sit while Tyrion stands to the side, his eyes downcast. And to the right, Ser Davos, Lyanna Mormont, Lord Yohn Royce, Alys Karstark, and Brienne of Tarth sat. The floor is set, the mood is heavy, and everyone’s on edge. Jamie stands there, awaiting whatever was to come towards him.

“When I was a child,” Daenerys’ tone is cold and unwavering. “My brother would tell me a bedtime story about the man who murdered our father.” 

Silence hangs in the hall, no one daring to speak. The plethora of guards behind Jamie keep their eyes trained on him, daring him to make a wrong move. 

“Who stabbed him in the back and cut his throat. Who sat down on the Iron Throne and watched as his blood poured onto the floor.” Daenerys keeps her eyes trained on him, completely unwavering. “He told me other stories as well. About all the things we would do to that man once we took back the Seven Kingdoms and had him in our grasps.” 

She pauses, everyone hanging off of her words. 

“Your sister pledged to send her army north.” 

Jamie swallows, sneaking a glance towards me. “She did.”

“I don’t see an army. I see one man. With one hand. It appears your sister lied to me.” 

Tyrion looks up to his brother and Jamie looks back, both of them powerless and terrified of the ramifications. Jamie swallows down his nerves. “She lied to me as well. She never had any intention of sending her army north.” He then turns to me. “You were right.” 

Daenerys turns her glare towards Tyrion for a brief moment, chastising him for the idea in the first place. 

“She has Euron Greyjoy’s remaining fleet and 10,000 fresh troops. The Golden Company from Essos, bought and paid for. Even if we defeat the dead, she’ll have more than enough to destroy the survivors.” 

I leaned forwards, “what do you mean the Golden Company has sent 10,000 troops? We stopped you from looting Highgarden. You’re dirt poor compared to the other houses in Westeros. How did she manage to pay for them?” 

Jamie hesitates, “she sold them a dragonskull.” 

You could hear a pin drop in the hall. Everyone turns their head in utter shock towards Daenerys, even some of the guards. Anger oozes off of her, fire in her eyes and her hands gripped the arms of the chair. 

“Which one?” She’s not asking, she’s demanding. 

“I don’t know.” Jamie licks his chapped lips. “It was small, no name, one of the few that were left.” Then he meekly adds, “the big ones wouldn’t fit on the ships.”

I scoffed loudly in utter disbelief and anger. I cross my arms over my chestplate and lean back in my chair. I don’t have to turn to Daenerys to know she was equally, if not more angry. “If you don’t kill her, then I fucking will.” 

“I promised to fight for the living.” Jamie double downs. “I intend to keep that promise.” 

Quickly, Tyrion jumps in hoping to help ease the tension in the room.“Your Grace,” he walks closer to the table . “I know my brother–” 

“Like you knew your sister?” She quickly snapped.

“He came here alone, knowing full well how he’d be received. Why would he do that if he weren’t telling the truth?” He tries to persuade her and show her that Jamie had true intentions.

“Perhaps he trusts his little brother to defend him, right up to the moment he slits my throat.” Daenerys stares down at the Lannister. 

Tyrion glanced at Jon and I, hoping one of us would side with him and vouch for his brother. 

“You’re right.” Sansa finally speaks, keeping her eyes steady on Jamie. Daenerys turns her head towards the red-head as she speaks further. “We can’t trust him. He attacked my father in the streets. He tried to destroy my house and my family, the same as he did yours.” 

“Do you want me to apologize?” Jamie interrupts to defend himself, though I doubt that it was a wise decision. “We were at war. Everything I did, I did for my house and my family. I'd do it all again.”

“The things we do for love,” Bran– who’d be seated to the right of Sansa– repeated.

All eyes fell on him while his remained on Jamie who stared at him wide-eyed, almost scared and ashamed of what those words meant. He subtly takes in a breath, but I could tell that what Bran said had shook him to the core. 

“So why have you abandoned your house and family now?” Daenerys draws the attention back to her. 

“Because this goes beyond loyalty.” He glances back to Brienne momentarily remembering those words she’d said to him in the Dragon Pit. “This is about survival.”

Tyrion turned to Daenerys who’s still debating what to do with Jamie when Brienna abruptly stands and takes a step towards her friend. 

“You don’t know me well, Your Grace.” She moves to stand beside him. “But I know Ser Jamie. He is a man of honor. I was his captor once, but when we were both taken prisoner and the men holding us tried to force themselves on me, Ser Jamie defended me and lost his hand because of it.” 

She turns to address Sansa next. “Without him, my lady, you would not be alive. He armed me, armored me, and sent me to find you and bring you home because he’d sworn an oath to your mother.” 

Sansa considers Brienne’s word, knowing well that she wouldn’t be saying all of this if she didn’t mean it. Brienne wasn’t the type to just vouch for anyone, she valued honor and integrity the most. “You vouch for him?” 

Brienne nods, confident. “I do.” 

“You’d fight beside him?” 

She holds her head up and stands straighter when she answers. “I would.” Jamie watches, touched, that Brienne held him in such high regard, despite his shortcomings.

Sansa takes a beat to carefully make her decision. “I trust you with my life. If you trust him with yours, we should let him stay.” 

Daenerys turns her gaze towards Sansa, stunned that she’d sided with Jamie despite all he’d done to her and her family. Weren’t they just on the same page?

“What does the Warden of the North say about it?” Daenerys turns to Jon who sighs. 

“We need every man we can get.” It’s clear that he doesn’t like him, that’s something Jon has always made note of, but if we’re supposed to fight as one force against the dead then having him stay is the right decision.

She turns to me next. “She’s honorable and she’ll keep him in line. And he’s one of the best, if he’s around then our chances are a lot better.” I leaned in closer, “besides, he was a key figure in all of this the first time and his usefulness still stands. We need him.” 

Daenerys gives me a subtle nod and I turn to look at Jamie. “The more the merrier.”

The room falls silent as Daenerys takes each of our words into consideration. It was clear that she would agree– she’d done it before– but her concerns still lingered in her mind. “Very well.” 

Tyrion exhaled in relief and Jamie looked grateful. She gives Grey Worm– who’d been standing at the left edge of the table– a nod and he picks up Jamie's sword and roughly hands it to him.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he bows his head, and despite addressing her corectly, there’s still some of his signature sass behind those words. 

Daenerys stands up and the rest of the room follows. Sansa leaves first and Daenerys goes to speak to Jon, but he leaves right after, unable to look her in the eyes. I sighed inwards as last night's conversation with Jon was still hanging in my head. Daenerys turns to leave, rounding the table and out through the main doors of the hall with Tyrion, Varys, Missandei, and Jorah behind her. She passed Jamie– who bows his head– without sparing a glance. Brienne’s the next to go and the others soon followed after her, leaving through different exits. Jamie's eyes linger on Bran’s who eventually asks the Maester to help him to the Godswood, leaving just the two of us.

I round the table, stepping towards him. “I told you not to trust her, but you did.” 

He nods, looking down. “You did. But-”

“But what? She’s pregnant and she’ll do anything for her child? Is that it?” I say, unimpressed. “Have you forgotten her behavior after Tommen killed himself? Your baby-boy took his life and she had the audacity to blame him for it. That woman isn’t a mother, she’s a murder. She’s killed at least a dozen of Robert's bastard kids just so her own bastard kids wouldn’t be affected.” 

I paused knowing that me berating him isn’t going to do much of anything after all, he was a Lannister. “Go,” I waved him away. “There’s armor at the forge, find whatever you can. It’s no Lannister gold, but it’s good enough. We’ll be planning our attacks later today in the library, so if you’ve got any bright ideas, you know where to find us.” I craned my neck side to side, rolling out the knots from all the heavy armor I’d been wearing. “Time is running out, the Night King can be here any moment. There’s no point in going back and forth on useless shit.”

I walked out the room, leaving Jamie standing there. There was too much to do in too little time and I was close to losing my mind. I walked down a hallway when I spotted a maid walking. 

“Do you know where Lady Sansa is?” 

“She’s in the library with Lord Royce, My Lady.” She replies meekly. 

I smiled, though it doesn’t do much to calm her nerves. “Thank you.” I turned and headed for the library. I’d already managed to get one Stark girl on our side (however much that may have been) and now it was time for the other. After Jon, Sansa held the most authority in Winterfell, and it was clear that she wasn’t the biggest fan or Daenerys and I. If I could find a way to get her at least a bit more friendly with us then our future plans would go a lot more smoother. The door was open and I could hear two women speaking inside. I stepped in closer and realized it was Daenerys and Sansa. They’re sitting at the table, Sansa’s hand on top of Daenerys’s clearly having a bonding moment. 

“I'm here because I love your brother and I trust him, and I know he's true to his word. He's only the second man in my life I can say that about.” 

“Who was the first?” Sansa asks. 

Daenery smiles, “someone taller.” 

They both giggle with one another, like two ladies gossiping over tea about knights and Lords, and whatever else they did during this time. 

“And what happens afterwards? We defeat the dead. We destroy Cersei. What happens then?” Sansa’s tone shifts from happy to something more serious and anxious. 

“I take the Iron Throne.” Daenerys says as if it’s set in stone. 

“What about the North?” Sansa tries to pry. “It was taken from us, and we took it back. And we said we’d never bow to anyone else again. What about the North?” 

Daenerys’ smile fades and her mood shifts to a more serious one, but before she can do anything I made my presence known.. 

“Well you’ll be Warden of the North and Lady of Winterfell.” Their head snaps towards my direction, surprised. I walked closer to them. “The Stark bloodline will continue through you, my lady.” 

“What about Jon? He’s Lord of Winterfell.” Sansa frowns. 

“Don’t worry too much about him. He said it himself, he didn’t want any of this. But you, you’re the eldest daughter of Ned Stark. You may look like a Tully, but you’re a Stark through and through.” She doesn’t say anything, clearly confused, but I could tell that she was intrigued– just the slightest, but enough for me to keep going. “After the Great War and after we’ve dealt with Cersei, we’re all going to need each other's help to rebuild the country. Three hundred years ago, the Seven Kingdoms were unified for a reason. This is the reason.” 

Sansa looks down at her hand over Daenerys’ thinking when the Maester interrupts us. 

“Apologies, my lady, Your Grace. There’s someone waiting for you in the hall.”

––

We’re led back to the hall where none other than Theon Greyjoy is standing, surrounded by many Ironborns. Daenerys looks pleasantly surprised while Sansa looks stunned at his unexpected arrival. Theon glanced towards her with a similar expression. He turns his gaze away from her and walks up to Daenerys and bends the knee.

“My Queen.” He bows his head.

“Your sister?” 

“She’s taken the Iron Islands in your name.” 

“And Euron?” I ask. 

“Yara has him in a cell, awaiting execution, My Lady.” 

“Why aren’t you with her?” Daenerys asked. 

Theon turns his gaze towards Sansa, who has tears brimming in her eyes. “I want to fight for Winterfell, Lady Sansa. If you’ll have me.” 

She rushed past Daenerys and I and quickly wrapped her arms around Theon. He carefully wraps his own arms around her and the two share a very touching moment. They savor it, eyes misty and arms tight. The last time either of them had seen each other was after Theon had helped free Sansa from Ramsey Bolton’s sadistic grasp.  Sansa’s the first to pull away, tearfully smiling. She doesn’t have to say anything aloud as her answer is already known. The reunion is quick and we exchange some more words. Daenerys and I excused ourselves to give the two some more privacy for them to catch up. 

Daenerys decides to go find her advisors and I decided to go walk around the castle grounds to clear my head. Like the past few days, the place is filled with people. A group of children sat huddled together with wooden bowls and spoons in their hands as they quietly ate their meals. Men and women worked hard to dig up trenches and set up traps for the dead.

Time was running out. Each minute that went by was a minute the undead marched closer to us. Despite the impending doom, we were still underprepared and soldiers were still making their way up north to fight alongside us. Hopefully, the added numbers would help us in somehow overpowering the undead. Compared to before, when it was only Dany’s armies and the northern armies, we were better equipped this time. We had the Dornish and the Westerland armies on our side now, allowing us to have an even better chance against the undead than before. 

So many died whilst protecting the realm, regardless of how big or small their roles were. The God of Death came for many that night, but ultimately the living had won, but only by the skin of their teeth. If everyone hadn’t played their parts then the dead would have won, no doubt. It was sheer luck and the God’s taking mercy on them that they’d won.

Like the days before, people worked tirelessly in the snow, digging trenches and fortifying the wall. I walked around the dirt path towards the northern part of the castle, where we assumed most of the fighting would take place. Traps were being dug out and tested for their effectiveness and what to improve on. 

I glanced around one last time when I spotted Jon talking amongst a group of men. I stepped closer to him once they’d left to carry out their tasks. “You haven’t talked to her.” 

He glances at me, but isn’t surprised at my words. After what I’d seen him do in the hall this morning, Jon knew that I would be coming. “I’m busy. I have men to command.” He’s quick with his responses, yet also defensive. It’s clear that what was revealed the night before weighed on his mind and wanted to keep his mind off of it.

“And you can’t leave them for a few minutes to talk?” I walk over and stand in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. 

“We’re at war with death, time is something that we don’t have.” He brushes past me and helps out a couple of men unloading another wagon of dragonglass.

“We’re always at war.” I leaned against the wagon with my arms crossed. “Jon, we have to do this now. The longer we let this be, the worse the fall out. Trust me, just a couple of minutes and then it’s over. Alright?” 

He paused and considered my words. Truthfully, he wanted to tell Daenerys immediately, but feared the fallout. His identity, regardless of how much he denied it, was a threat to her and her claim and whatever they had between each other. He breathes out his nose giving me a glance. “Alright.” 

I give him a small smile when out in the crowd a red headed woman catches my eye. “No fucking way.” Jon frowned and followed my sight to find where, or rather who, I was looking at. “Fuck is she doing here?” I asked no one in particular. 

Jon spots Melisandre dismounting a horse. “The Red Priestess?” 

I nodded, keeping my eyes on her. She hands the reins off towards someone else and walks into another crowd and disappears from view. “She's supposed to come,” right before the battle begins, “later… much later.” 

Suddenly, a horn is blown in the distance, signalling that riders from the Wall had arrived. Jon and I brushed past a group of people and into the northern courtyard where more soldiers worked in fortifying the castle. Heavy wooden gates are opened and a group of men– presumably the last of the Nights Watch– walk in. Sam, who’d gotten here before us, pulls a man wearing all black leathers and a heavy black fur cloak into a tight hug. Jon follows after them, smiling to see his friend– Eddison Tollett– the current Lord Commander alive and well. He goes for a hug when someone rushes into him, knocking him a step back.

“My little crow,” Tormund gives Jon a big and probably suffocating hug. The nickname is affectionate and reminiscent of when Jon used to be in the Night’s Watch and lead them. 

Jon smiles, holding his friend close. “I thought we lost you.”

The wildling man cocks his head, “almost.” Tormund pats Jon’s back and lets him go, letting him embrace his other friends. Just as I came close, Tormund turned to me, “Lady Dragon!” 

Before I can respond, the winds almost knock out of me as Tormund tackles me into a hug of my own. Surprised, I wrap my arms around him, patting his back. He pulls back, allowing me to breathe again, and has a big goofy smile on his face.

“Good to see you too.”  

“Is that Dragon Queen here?” 

I nodded and his grin grew wider.

“Is she tall?” 

I laughed, “no.” What’s up with this guy and being tall? 

He frowns, confused. “Do dragons like small riders?” 

“Jon’s a dragonrider too,” I pointed out, surprising Sam and the other man.

Unphased, Tormund looks at Jon and then back at me. “He’s short.” 

“I’m not short.” Jon argued. “I’m average height.”

“No you’re not. You’re short.” 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” I hushed the two before they could go any further.

Beric, who’d been behind the others, steps forwards and shakes Jon and I’s hand. The six of us stood around in a circle, the light-heartedness simmering off a touch as the mood shifted to a more serious one.

“How did you meet?” Jon asked Edd.

“We met up at the Last Hearth.” Edd replied, glancing at the other two men who he’d come with. 

“The dead got there first,” Tormund answers. 

“The Umbers?” I asked, despite already knowing the answer. 

“Fighting for the Night King now,” Beric replied. Jon turns to me, giving me a nod as a thank you for not letting him send any more men out of Winterfell. 

“We had to travel around to get here.” Tormund says. His voice drops a pitch lower. “Whoevers not here now is with them.”

They give a few more details. Tormund, Beric, and the other men of the Night’s Watch had just narrowly escaped the collapse of the Wall. They fled Eastwatch with the Night King hot on their trails, all the way to Last Hearth where Edd and the rest of the Night’s Watch had regrouped to gather supplies and help facilitate the evacuation of the castle. However, the undead were far too quick and within a day they were on the horizon of Last Hearth, making steady progress towards Winterfell.

Solemnly, Jon asks, “how long do we have?”

“Before the sun comes up tomorrow.” Tormund replied. 

The realization hits Jon and I and a shiver runs down my spine as time ticks down. Jon and Sam share a glance, the pair talking with their minds it seemed. Soon, very soon, death would be at our steps. It was almost time, and yet we weren’t as ready as we hoped. 

Tormund looks around behind him, searching. “The big women still here?”

None of the others replied, but I did “Brienne? Yes she is.” 

Jon breaths out after taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “We need to get ready.”

––

We’re all standing in the library. The room’s lit with dozens of candles, all emanating an orangy-yellow hue. A hearth is lit for warmth and light as the sun creeps below the horizon and the cold sets in. We huddle around a large square table in the middle of the room with a large drawn aerial map of Winterfell castle and its surrounding lands laid over it. Various markers are laid out by the northern castle walls in battle formations, each respective group representing the various armies that have joined forces together. In front of them are dozens of small rectangular white and gray markers that represent the Army of the Dead. There’s an overwhelming amount laid out, nearly taking up the entire upper fourth of the map, as a way to show just how many there were and how easily outnumbered we were. 

“They’re coming.” Jon’s voice is firm as he speaks. “We have dragonglass and Valyrian steel. But there are too many of them. Far too many.” He looks at each and everyone of us in the makeshift war room. “Our enemy doesn’t tire. Doesn’t stop. Doesn’t feel.” 

At the very front, in two groups, were the Dothraki riders. Behind them, and between the fortified walls, were the Unsullied forces and the catapults that were made that they would operate. To the right, were the mish-mash of northern forces and the handful of Dornish and Westerland armies as well as those who’d traveled North to fight alongside us. And to the left, were the Aryn forces with the remaining Stark combined forces behind them. Within the castle, there were few groups for reinforcements and added protection around the castle crypts. The few– but powerful, Mormont soldiers were stationed inside to help facilitate and protect the castle gates while also making sure that everyone who wasn’t going to fight were all in the crypts.

Jon, Sansa, Arya, and Sam stand by the south side of the castle, by Kings Road, while Daenerys, Jorah, Tyrion, Varys, Grey Worm and I stand by the eastern wall. Theon, Alys Karstark, Brienne, and Jamie stand across from us and Tormund, Ser Davos, Lyanna Mormont, and Lord Royce stand where the undead army is placed. Behind Jon, besides the lit hearth, Bran sits quietly and watches on as the planning is finalized.

Jon stands slightly hunched over the mapped table. “We can't beat them in a straight fight.”

“So, what can we do?” Jamie asks. 

“The Night King made them all.” Jon makes a face, recalling his encounter with the entity Beyond the Wall. He glances over to Jamie as he answers. “They follow his command. If he falls,” he pauses, but everyone knows what he’s trying to say. “Getting to him may be our best chance.” 

Jamie furrows his brow. “If that’s true, he’ll never expose himself.” He’s not pessimistic, just realistic, his years on the battlefield both as a soldier and strategist behind him. If slaying the Night King was the way to end all of this, he’s not going to be there on the front lines. 

“Yes he will.” 

Everyone’s head turns to Bran as he speaks up, sure of what he was saying. “He’ll come for me. He’s tried before, many times, with many Three Eyed Ravens.” Something about the way he says it– with no emotions, but total reassurance sets the tone to a more ominous one.

“What’s a Three Eyed Raven?” Alys Karstark asks aloud for most of everyone. 

“They’re greenseers,” I explained, recalling back the chapters I’d memorized whilst I was in school. “They hold the memories of past and present; everything that’s ever happened and is currently happening. Three Eyed Ravens date far back to the Children of the Forest, they even share the same powers as them.” 

Everyone's attention shifts back to Bran, somewhat– but not quiet– understanding his role. 

“Why?” Sam asks the second question. If all Bran could do was see the past and present with his ravens, then why is he such a threat to the Night King? “What does he want?” 

“An endless night.” Bran turns his glance towards Sam. “He wants to erase this world, and I am its memory.” 

 Sam somberly takes a look around the room. “That's what death is, isn't it? Forgetting. Being forgotten. If we forget where we've been and what we've done, we're not men anymore. Just animals.” He turned back to Bran, “Your memories don't come from books. Your stories aren't just stories. If I wanted to erase the world of men, I'd start with you.”

“How will he find you?” Tyrion asks. 

“His mark is on me.” Bran pulls back the sleeve on his right arm, revealing four red-ish brown lines on his skin. It looked as if someone had tried to grab and pull him so tight that it left deep bruises all the way to his bones. “He always knows where I am.” 

“We’ll put you in the crypt, where it’s safest.” Jon decides. 

“No.” Despite his even tone, Bran is firm in his answer. “We need to lure him into the open before his army destroys us all. I’ll wait for him in the Godswood.” 

“You want us to use you as bait?” Sansa says angry.

“We’re not leaving you alone out there.” Arya agrees, doubling down. The two sisters stood firm in their resolve. In no way were they going to let their baby brother, regardless of his abilities, come face to face with a being that’s already made a threat to his life before and those who came before him.

“He won’t be.” Theon catches everyone's attention. “I’ll stay with him. With the Ironborn.” He turned to Bran, who'd covered his arm again, “I took this castle from you. Let me defend you now.” Bran doesn’t reply, but gives Theon one nod as a thank you. This was going to be his redemption.

Jon, who’d been quiet for some time, also gave a subtle nod towards Theon– his own thank you for risking his life for his younger brother’s safety. 

With that, Ser Davos decided to continue forwards. “We’ll hold off the rest of them for as long as we can.” 

“When the time comes, Ser Davos and I will be on the walls, to give you the signal to light the trench.” Tyrion adds on.

Daenerys frowns, against the idea. “Ser Davos is perfectly capable of waving a torch on his own. You’ll be in the crypt.” 

Tyrion looks at her determined, ready to protest. “Your Grace, I have fought before, I can do it again. Alongside the men and women risking their lives.” 

“There are thousands of them and only one of you.” Daenerys puts her foot down. “You can't fight as well as they can, but you can think better than any of them. You're here because of your mind. If we survive, I'll need it.”

Understanding, Tyrion nods, but I could tell that he was still against it. Something in him wanted to fight alongside everyone, like he’s done before, but despite that, he knows that Daenerys was right. 

“The dragons will give us an edge in the field.” Davos said. 

“If they're in the field, they're not protecting Bran.” Jon glanced over to his own advisor. “We need to be near him. Not too near, or the Night King won't come. But close enough to pursue him when he does.”

“Dragonfire will stop him?” Arya turned to ask Bran.

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “No one's ever tried.” Arya looks back, her expression a mix of worry and disappointment.

“Dragonfire will kill wights, but not the White Walkers or Night King.” I chimed in. “Fire will kill the wights, so use whatever you can to light them up, which I’m sure goes without saying.” I turned to Jon, “do you have what I asked for?” 

He nods and motions for the Maester to hand me a cloudy glass bottle. It had a rag, presumably scrapped fabric, shoved halfway down the bottle with about an inch and a half worth of fabric hanging out. The other end was swimming in some unknown liquid.

“This is a molotov, doesn’t look like much, but packs a punch. To use it, you’re going to have to light this end–” I point to the bit of fabric sticking out, “–on fire, but you’ll have to act quick once you do. The fabric will catch on fire and travel all the way down to the bit that’s in oil. So light it and toss it at the dead, preferably when they’re near the castle walls. The bottle will shatter on impact and the fire will go everywhere.” 

No one says a thing as they process what I’d just shown and said. Jamie, who had the same confused frown on his face as his brother, opened his mouth to speak. “Where did you even come up with the idea for that?” 

This time, it was my turn to frown. Don’t tell me molotov cocktails aren’t a thing yet. “It doesn’t matter, what does is that these things,” I lightly shook the bottle and the oil swished around the, “are going to help us win.” 

“How is it going to do that when we can’t even kill the Night King with fire?’ Sansa asks aloud, not fully convinced of the plan.

I glanced towards her. “He’ll die either by dragonglass or Valyrian steel. Someone will have to get close. His generals are the same.”

“Gernerals?” Sam asks surprised, taken aback. How can an undead army have commanding officers?

“The White Walkers. They’re the ones who control the wights. In theory, you get one of them and you knock down a chunk of the undead army.” 

“How many are there?” Arya asked. 

I gave a half shrug, “I don’t know. Craster's son’s– the ones he sacrificed to the Night King– were most likely turned into White Walkers and the Night King’s generals.”  

“And I’m assuming that they won’t show themselves to us like the Night King.” Ser Davos says. 

“No.” I replied. “But if we want to make a dent in their forces we need to get to them, and if we want to end it quickly then we need to go against the Night King.”

Silence falls over us as the realization hits that this was it, this was our one shot– our only opportunity to get this right– or else we’d all be marching in the Night King’s army down to King’s Landing and knocking on Cersei’s door.

“We’re all going to die.” Tormund says. He glanced towards his right to Brienne. “But at least we die together.” She says nothing and looks back down at the map, but his earlier words still linger in her mind. 

‘Let’s get some rest.” Jon dismissed with a deep breath. 

One by one, everyone left to do their own thing, believing it to be their final night alive, wanting to make the most of whatever they could. I turned to leave, leaving behind Jon and Daenerys, and Tyrion and Bran in the room. Unknown to me, Jon comes walking out behind me, clearly still avoiding Daenerys. 

I reached out for his arm, halting his steps. “You still haven’t done it?” I couldn’t help the annoyance and surprise in my voice.

“I can't," he doesn’t bother looking me in the eye. “I have to get ready, we have too–” 

“No, all you have to do is have one conversation with the woman you love. “ I firmly cut him off of his excuses. “Jon, a dead man marches towards us ready to kill us all. Don’t let this be in the back of your head and pull you away from this. Don’t live with any regrets, not while this could be our final night alive.” 

Just as he was going to counter, Daenerys walks out of the room. I give his army one last firm squeeze and then let go of his arm. Jon looked between us and I lightly nudged Daenerys towards him when I walked past her. I don’t have to look back to know that the long awaited and strung out conversation was going to take place.

I retreated to my room to have a moment to myself as the hours dwindled down and everyone began to grow more anxious. Everyone knew their place and what they had to do, it was only a matter of time before the fight for humanity was at our doors. Women, children, the old, and sick all hunkered back down to the crypts while soldiers made up of men and women from all over the continent got ready and lined up in their posts.

I was in my room, having a quiet meal of rabbit stew, bread, and a small apple tart. If this was going to be my last meal then a little bit of dessert wouldn’t hurt, right? The hearth was lit, keeping me warm and a glass of wine in front of me that I’d leisurely sip whenever I’d catch my hands trembling or thoughts spiraling. 

Truthfully speaking, I hadn’t thought this through (no shit, right?). When I arrived here and declared to Daenerys that I’d help win her the throne, it was merely out of self preservation and sheer hubris. In all honesty, I was way in over my head (guess hindsight’s 20/20). Riding dragons, fighting in battles, making alliances, changing the course of history with absolutely no care about its ramifications in the future. I thought that I had some sort of invisible plot armor around me leading me to think that I had nothing to fear.

But I’ve survived this long haven’t I? 

But this was different. This was actual life or death. 

ābrar iā morghon

And I was fucking scared. 

My body trembled with fear. Mind racing with a hundred different ‘what-if’s,’ that I couldn’t shake away. What if I actually die here and now? What if Daenerys dies? What if Jon dies? What if the Night King wins? Then it would all be my fault. If I hadn’t gone and stuck my nose into all of this then humanity would’ve lived like before. But then again, I couldn’t take all the blame. 

I didn’t choose to come here, I was brought here– dragged through the fabric of time and thrown into one of the most dangerous and tumultuous periods in Westerosi history– all for a reason that I still haven’t figured out. So, if anything does happen, then it wouldn’t be my fault. I was someone in an unimaginable situation who had to do anything that they could to survive.

Bang!

I jump up in my seat and whip my head around to the door slammed open and Daenerys standing in my doorway, fuming and glaring at me. 

She knows. 

“Did you know?” She demands from me. But there was no point in asking, she already knew my answer. I knew practically everything. 

I calmly set my spoon down against the rim of the warm wooden bowl and stood up slowly. The wooden chair screeched against the stone floor and the hearth lightly crackled filling the silence. 

“Know what?” I walked past her and over to the door, peeking out and looking both ways to make sure no one was there before closing and locking it shut. 

“Jon.” She spits out his name. “About who he really is?” I walk over to the side table and pour a glass of wine for her, but don't give it to her just yet. 

I set the cup down and turn to face her. “I did. It’s a major part of Westerosi Studies and Targaryen History.” 

Her eye twitches, “is this a joke to you?” 

“No it’s not.” A joke? Honey, I’m having a quarter-life crisis over here and you’re asking if I’m joking? 

“Why wasn’t I told?” 

“You didn’t need to know at the time.” 

She scoffs, “always with your ‘you didn’t need to know’. How do you know what I should and shouldn’t know?” 

“Because I just do.” I huffed, crossing my arms. “If I told you within a week of meeting me that your allies would die one by one, your dragons would die one by one, you would have spiraled. Yes, Jon is Lyanna and Rhaegar’s son. Yes, he has a better claim than you. Yes, if the people knew his true identity then they would champion him. If I had told you his real identity– that he just found out yesterday may I add– that’s what would’ve gone through your mind.” 

I let out a shaky breath and reached over for my own glass of wine, gulping down the red liquid while I calmed myself. She stays silent and watches me set the glass down, but her anger is still there.

“Be honest with me, swear to your dragons and your people, if you knew who he was would you have welcomed him like an ally or would you have sent the dogs on him? Would you have given Jon a chance?” There’s no sarcasm in my tone, no bite or defensiveness, just me calmly asking her a simple question. 

Daenerys stares at me, her anger slowly dissipating. She’s stuck between her stubbornness and my reasoning. She clenched her jaw and sighed, letting go of her pent up anger. She knew I was right. If Daenerys knew who Jon was before meeting at Dragonstone she would have dealt with him like he was the enemy and not like an ally. She would have lost the North and ultimately we would have lost the Great War.

“Daenerys,” I said her name softly. “Do you know how long I’ve been here?” 

She lightly furrowed her brows. “No.” 

“Almost eight months.” My answer weighs heavily. “In eight months I haven’t gotten one lead as to how I can get back home or why I was brought here. Frankly speaking, I’m stuck here. So why would I try to do anything hurtful towards you, knowing what you’re capable of. I have no lies, no false narratives or hidden agenda’s– all I have is the truth. Why would I risk it all to lie to you?” 

Her face contorts between guilt and sadness as my words sink deeper into her consciousness. She’d been so caught up in her campaign that she’d overlooked my own footing in this world. She lets out a deep sigh and walks over to sit on the foot of my bed while I reach over grabbing her glass of wine.

“You’re right,” she says, face buried in her hands. “I shouldn’t have any reason to doubt you. It’s just.. I’m so close, so close. And it seems every time I take a step forward something gets in the way.” She takes the glass from me and I go to sit next to her. “And the way everyone looks towards Jon, it just makes me second guess myself.. if I’ll be accepted by the people here.” 

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, bringing her in close. “You are and you will be a great leader. Don’t ever doubt yourself, you’ve come a long way and have done great things. Do you have any idea how loved you are throughout Essos? The Dothraki named you their Great Khaleesi, only recognizing you as their leader, so many years later. The former slave cities have raised statues in your honor and hail you as their savior. You’ve grown so much from where you started, don’t give up now.” 

Daenerys’ face softens around the edges at my reassurance, but a sliver of self-doubt still lingers.

“Trust me, people still praise you. They still remember you as a liberator and a great leader who did the impossible. Don’t ever doubt yourself, okay? The people of Westeros will come around, you just have to give them some time.” 

She sighs out a breath she’d been holding since her talk with Jon. “What do I do then?”

“Turst.” I squeeze her arm gently. “Don’t overwhelm yourself and trust in those around you. It’s tough, but you’ve gone through the worst already. Just one more hill to climb over and then you’ve done it.”  

Daenerys sits silently, but listens closely. All her life she’d fought for survival, she’s had to jump over hurdles to get to where she was now. It wasn’t totally out of left field for her to feel how she did. This wasn’t supposed to happen, the dead were just a story that parents would tell their kids– not a real threat to all of humanity.

 “Alright. I will.” 

It wasn’t an ideal relationship. This all started as a difficult deal; I helped her and she gave me protection. But slowly, it grew into something more familial and authentic. We had only one common ancestor and hundreds of years in between us, but we were the closest family either of us had right now. Maybe if I really was from this time and truly born as Daenerys’s sister I could have helped and protected her from the cruelty of the world. 

“Go to him.” I quietly said. 

“To who?” 

“To Jon.” 

She frowned, “but what about you?” 

“Don’t worry about me.” I stood up, bringing her up with me and walked the two of us to the door. “It’s our final night alive,” I opened the door, “go be with him.” 

She waits for what feels like minutes, but what was only a few seconds and just stares at me. Then, she wordlessly warps her arms around me, pulling me in. I sighed and embraced her back before letting her go. With a final look, she quickly walks down the hallway and back towards Jon. I sighed out once she turned the corner and turned back into the room. Quietly, I grabbed Dark Sister and fastened her across my hip and then I slipped Aegon’s Dagger, that Daenerys had let me hold onto, into its place. 

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Visenya’s armor glimmered red from the candlelight and fire from the hearth. I stared at myself, taking in my appearance. Eight months ago, if I were to be wearing anything remotely similar I’d look out of place, but now, it looked natural. My face, that used to have some roundness, was slimmer and had harsher shadows thanks to the environment around me. I tried to picture myself from before all of this, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t picture who I was before all of this– a University student in King’s Landing from the modern world.

I peeled away from the mirror and left the room, closing the door behind me. I mindlessly walked down the halls hoping to clear my head when I ran across someone who could give me an actual answer.

“Melisandre.” 

The Red Woman stops walking, turning towards me. “Lady Vellarys.” 

“We need to talk.” 

Understanding, but albeit confused, she quietly leads me to her room. The door closes behind me and she stands in front of the lit fireplace. 

“What do we need to talk about?” 

I take in a deep breath. “Eight months ago I traveled to Dragonstone for a school project.” She frowns at my words. “I walked into the Dragonglass caves and passed out. When I woke up I was alone in the cave. I stepped out of the cave and was brought here, in the past.” 

“Lady Vellarys, what are you trying to say?” She asked, sounding very skeptical of what I was saying.

“I am from the future. I’ve read– no, I’ve studied all of this. The Great War, the Long Night. I know who dies and who lives and what happens afterwards. I even know what you’re going to do tonight. You’re going to enchant the Dothraki’s swords and then you’re going to walk out into the freezing snow and take that off,” I point at her necklace, “and you’ll be your true age and wither away in the snow.” 

“How do you know this?” Her body shifts to a more protective stance, shielding herself from what I was saying

“Because I’m from the future, I know what happens. And I want to know why I was brought here in the first place.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’ve looked everywhere I could. Every goddamn scroll, book, ancient text and I’ve found nothing. And now you’re my only hope before you have to leave.” I let out a shaky breath, “please, Meslisandre.” 

She stares at me, taking in my wild story, that she somehow found believable. Maybe it was how adamant I sounded or my behavior towards what was taking place that she’d noticed since our first meeting. She knew there was a reason why she felt something different about me, but she was never able to put her finger on it.

“Why?” I ask. “I need to know why… please.” Melisandre looks down for a brief moment and I feel like ripping the hair out of my head. “And don’t tell me that this is all the ‘Lord of Lights’ doing. I need answers, Melisandre, and we both know only you can give them to me.” 

“I can, but I don’t think they will be the answers you are looking for.” 

I swallow, nervously, “I don’t care. I need to know.” 

She’s silent and I start to think that she doesn’t believe me. “Very well.”

She reaches into the open chest at the foot of her bed, pulling out a knife decorated in silver and jewels, its Valyrian Steel glows in the candle light. She then reached over to me, her ice cold hands sending goosebumps up my arm, and led me to the lit fireplace.

Her grasp loosens and travels down to my hand, turning it palm side up. Her eyes find mine, determined to do what I’d asked. She’s searching for something, doubt, uncertainty, but finds nothing. I had thought that her eyes were a deep amber color, but the light from the fire shows that they’re a deep red.

“I must warn you, you may be left with more questions than answers.” Her voice is firm and lower in pitch.

“I know.” I nod, firm in my decision

She gives my hand a squeeze before she starts chanting in Valyrian under her breath. Her left hand brings up the blade and places its sharp edge horizontally against my palm. I suck in a breath as she swiftly cuts into my hand. Beads of blood start to pool out of my hand and she moves my hand to the fire, tipping it and letting the blood flow from my cut and into the fire. 

The room grows hotter and I could swear that the flames get deeper. My eyes shift to Melisandre who’s staring deep into the flames in some sort of incantation. The longer she stared the more on the edge I got. 

What was she seeing? Was it something bad? Good? Why is it taking so long? Am I going to die? 

Her grip on my hand tightened for a moment– as if she was seeing something she couldn’t believe– before she broke out of her trance. The room got cooler, back to his regular temperature, and the flames died down to their original hues.The silence in the room was palpable. No one said a word. Mellisandre kept her hold on my hand, though more relaxed now, her eyes stayed on the burning flames. My heartbeat thumped loudly in my ears and my breathing grew shallow as I waited for my answers. 

“You were brought here for a reason, a reason you already know.” She began. “The Lord chose you to help the Prince Who Was Promised.” 

“I figured that.”

She pauses before speaking again, careful with her words. “I don’t know if you can go back.”

“What?” I pulled my hand away from hers, not caring about the cut and the blood dripping down. “What do you mean? You said that the Lord shows you things– Melisandre– what did you see?” 

She furrows her brows, thinking back at what she was shown. “I saw you, brief moments of you in the future. I saw you marry, have children, age. Y/n, you live the rest of your life here. Not once did I see you go back or if you could go back.” 

I felt my chest tighten and I stepped back, anxiety filling my veins. 

“No.” 

My body moved on its own, walking out of Melisandre’s room and down the halls and then outside. Tunnel vision kicked in, my eyesight narrowed and everything became muffled as if my head was underwater. The winter cold and my bleeding hand were all forgotten as my feet carried me until they couldn’t. I collapsed onto the snow covered ground, feet aching and heart thumping loudly in my ears. 

I could feel its eyes on me, looking down mockingly. Leaves fell down around me, my hands fisting the snow below me. There's a pounding in my head and an ache in my palm. My vision slowly clears and my hearing returns. I could hear the wind rolling past me and its leaves rustling.

I lifted my tear rimmed eyes up and to its eyes.

“You brought me here and it’s your responsibility to bring me back.” I spat just loud enough for it to hear. “Do you enjoy it? Messing with people's lives? Using them as pawns for your own enjoyment?”

Hot tears streamed down my face and my dried bloody hand came up to wipe them away.

“Bring me back. I’m doing what you want me to do– I’m helping her– just like I’m supposed to. You have to bring me back home. You owe it to me.”

The red leaves on the Weirwood tree swayed as the cold wind picked up again. Its carved face only looked down on me, almost as if it were belittling me even further. This wasn’t how this would end, it couldn’t. I had to go home.

––

The hearth is lit, along with dozens of candelabra's, in the castle's Great Hall. The room is dim despite the amount of candles burning. The tables from before have been cleared away and pushed up to the sides against the walls and the chairs have been shoved into a corner. Two, though, are pulled out in front of the hearth, basking in its heat and warmth. Tyrion Lannister sits on the right and his elder brother, Jamie Lannister sits on the left chair. They each have a goblet of wine in their hands, casually taking sip after sip. 

Out of the blue Tyrion speaks almost reminiscing, “I wish father were here.” 

Jamie blinks back, surprised at what his brother had just said and if he was hearing him right. Tyrion– the man who killed their father– wants him here? Tyrion catches the confused expression on Jamie’s face and talks further to explain himself. “I would love to see the look on his face when he realizes his two sons are about to die defending Winterfell.” 

Jamie takes a beat, but snorts out a chuckleand lightly swishes the wine in his goblet in circles. “That would be something to see.” 

The old wooden chair creeks when Tyrion shifts to look behind him into the dark and empty hall. “I remember the first time we were here. First time I saw this all.” Jamie cranes his neck back to see what his brother was looking at. 

Tyiron turned his head to Jamie, “you were a Golden Lion.” He subtly puts on a voice as he says the ‘title’ aloud. But then he shifts, “and I was a drunken whoremongerer. It was all so simple.” 

Jamie glances from his lap to Tyrion, giving a quick shake of the head. “It wasn’t all so simple. I was sleeping with my sister, and you had one friend in the world.. that was sleeping with his sister.”

“I was speaking in relative terms.”

“Do you miss it?” Jamie asks. 

“Of course I miss it.” Tyrion replied quickly, thinking fondly to back then– before all of this.

“Well my Golden Lion days are done, but whoremongering is still an option for you.”

Tyrion shakes his head, “it’s not.” There’s a weight towards his words and memories he doesn’t want to remember, “things would be easier if they were.” 

Jamie watches his little brother raise his goblet. “The perils of self-betterment.” Tyrion says. Jamie raises his own glass and the two drink.  

Behind them, the heavy doors open and then shut. The two Lannisters turn their heads to see Brienne and Podrick enter the hall. Jamie’s quick to his feet, “My Lady.” 

Brienne walks closer with a hand resting on her sword and Podrick to her right. “Oh, we didn’t mean to interrupt. We were just looking for somewhere warm to–” 

“To contemplate your imminent death.” Tyrion stands up from his chair, “you’ve come to the right place.” He then moves to the right where a table with extra goblets and a pitcher of wine were placed. “You want some of this piss? It’s not bad, it’s not good either.” 

“Thank you, my lord.” Podrick moves towards Tyrion, but Brienne stops him. 

“I don’t think that’s wise. The battle might start at any moment.” Podrick looks a bit down, as if he’d just been caught with his hands in the cookie jar, but then she speaks again. “Half cup.” 

Tyrion pours a glass for Podrick, but overfills it causing it to spill onto the floor. The two glanced at one another, stifling their laughs like two students in the back of the classroom. Podrick takes the goblet and takes a hefty sip while Tyrion moves to fill his own glass. “And you?” 

“No, thank you. I should try to get some sleep.” She replied. 

“You really think any of us are going to sleep tonight?” Jamie asked, pulling up the extra chairs. “Join us,” he motioned towards the new seating arrangement. 

“Alright,” she glanced towards Podrick, “just a bit.” She sits down on the left hand side of Jamie. Tyrion walks to her, pouring another glass, and hands it to her right when another person walks into the hall. 

“Well what do we have here.” 

“Ser Davos,” Tyrion calls, “join us.” 

“No, not for me, thanks.” The older man briskly walked past them and towards the lit hearth. “Came here for this.” He turns around so that his back faces the fire and takes in the much needed heat after being out in the snow for so long. “Figured I could wait to die freezing my balls off out there,” Brienne backs stiffens as she feels someone approaching with their eyes on her, “or wait to die nice and warm in here.” 

Tormund, who’d been right behind Ser Davos, comes up to the left side of Brienne, staring at her. He waits to speak when she looks at him. “This could be our last night in this world, you know.” 

Jamie silently watches the exchange, sipping on his wine. 

“Yes, well I’m glad you’re here.” Brienne replied, but quickly corrected herself. “Here– fighting with us– glad you survived Eastwatch.”

“Would you like a drink?” Tyrion asks, now standing by the tale. 

Tormund raises what looks to be the end of a mammoth husk, hollowed out and full of whatever he’d been drinking. “Brought my own.” He then shifts his attention towards Jamie, who’d been silently watching, and sizes him up with his head tilted towards the side. 

“They call you King-Killer.” 

Jamie, who had to look up to look into Tormund's eyes, squinted his eyes. “I’m sure someone does.” 

“They call me Giants-Bane. Want to know why?” 

Jamie glanced at Tyrion while Tormund reached over to an empty chair and dragged it over to the smi-circle of occupied chairs. He sits down, eyes locked onto Jamie. “I killed a giant when I was ten. Then I climbed right into bed with his wife.” 

Ser Davos glanced towards the Wildling, curious to see where the story would go. 

“When she woke up, you know what she did?” 

Jamie tilts his head, telling him to go on.Tomund leans in for added dramatic effect, “suckled me at her teat for three months, thought I was her baby. That's how I got so strong– giant’s milk.” He brings the horn up to his mouth and loudly starts to drink from it. Brienne eyebrows drew together in a surprised and disgusted expression as she watched the liquor spill out of the horn and down Tormund's chin and clothes and to the floor.

Jamie glanced at Tyrion as to say, what is this guy doing? Tyrion gives him an ‘I don’t know face’ and turns back to the Wildling. The gulping and occasional groaning was echoed by the hollowness of the horn, adding to the awkwardness of the whole ordeal.

Ser Davos peeled his eyes away from the horrid scene and moved away from the hearth, “maybe I will have that drink.”

Eventually it stops and everyone settles down into their seats. Tormund sits a little closer to the fire with Brienne to his right who has Jamie to her own right. Tyrion sits in between Podrick on his right and Ser Davos to his left, who’s sitting next to Jamie. Everyone’s cups are filled as they stare into the open flames of the hearth. There’s an oddly comfortable silence as they all sit there, sharing their final moments alive with one another. There’s an air of tension and fear in each and everyone of them, but also a sense of relief that at least they weren’t alone. 

Tyrion’s first to break the silence. “It’s strange isn’t it? Almost everyone here’s fought the Starks, at one time or another. And here we are in their castle, ready to defend it. Together.” 

“At least we’ll die with honor.” Brienne comments. 

“I think we might live.” Tyrion replied, honestly. Davos and Podrick share a glance and then they both start laughing. 

“I-I do.” Tyrion replied, quickly. “How many battles have we survived between us? Ser Davos Seaworth; Survivor of both the Blackwater and the Battle of the Bastards.”

“All without a shred of combat ability.” Ser Davos adds.

“Mm.” Tyrion turns to his brother. “Ser Jamie Lannister, fable hero of the Siege of Pyke.”

“Fabled loser of the Battle of Whispering Wood.” Jamie stands up to pour himself another cup of wine.

“Hear, hear!” Tyrion shouts. “Ser Brianne of Tarth. Defeated the Hound in-” He pauses, correcting himself. “Pardon me, Lady Brienne.” 

“She’s not the Ser?” Tormund says, confused. He turned around to Brienne. “You’re not the knight?”

Brienne’s face slightly hardens and she turns to him to give a curt reply. “Women can’t be knights.”

“Why not?” He frowned. 

“Tradition.” She replied. 

“Fuck tradition.” Tromund stated bluntly. 

She keeps her expression firm and just shakes her head, “I don’t even want to be a knight.” She catches Podrick staring at her, the both of them knowing that she’d just lied then. Throughout their journey together he could see how much she’d wanted to be a knight. She was good– very good, and so very deserving of that title.

“I’m no king. But if I were, I’d knight you ten times over.” Ser Davos smirked at the Wildling’s' wholesome declaration.

There’s a beat of silence and then Jamie looks at Brienne as if he’d just realized something important. “You don’t need a King. Any knight can make another knight.” 

Jamie places his cup on the table, next to the pitch of wine. “I’ll prove it.” He unsheathed his sword and walked to the middle of the room, holding his sword out. Everyone watches carefully, and he turns to Brienne. 

“Kneel, Lady Brienne.” 

Brienne scoffs, not believing the one handed Lannister afterall, he’d been drinking for however long there was no way he was being serious. 

“Do you want to be a knight or not? Kneel.” He asked, seriously. He doesn't sound drunk, far from it actually. He knows what he’s doing, he’s resolute in it.

She glanced back at Jamie who tells her to come over and kneel again. Everyone’s eyes are on her, eagerly waiting for her to get up. She looks over to Podrick who reassures her to go one. She doesn't move right then, she only gets up when she looks back at Jamie who gives her a reassuring nod. Slowly, she walks to the middle of the room, opposite of Jamie and kneels before him. Wordlessly, the others slowly stand to watch.

Brienne, now growing misty-eyed, stares at Jamie as he begins.

His grip on his sword– Widow’s Wail– tightens in his flesh hand. He lifts the sword and places the sword on her right shoulder. “In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.”  

He raises the sword and places it on her left shoulder. “ In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just.”

He places the sword on her right shoulder again. “In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent.” 

He lowers the sword to his side. Slowly, Brienne raises her head up and locks eyes with Jamie.

“Arise, Brienne of Tarth, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Terry-eyed, Brienne stands up, and the two share a small moment together before the room bursts into applause and cheers. Tormund claps his hands loudly and Tyrion raises his glass in a toast.

“Ser Brienne of Tarth! Knight of the Seven Kingdoms!” 

She smiles, tears of joy in her eyes. Wordlessly, she thanks Jamie who nods, smiling at her. The applause continues on and another round of drinks are poured in celebration. Once settled down, everyone sat back down in their chairs and conversations started to flow again. Eventually, though, people get tired.

Jamie lets out a groan. “We’d better get some rest.” 

“No,” Tyrion almost whines. “Let’s stay a bit longer.” 

“We’re out of wine.” Davos gruffs, placing the pitcher down and sitting back down. 

“How about a song?” Tyrion suggests. “You must know one.” He looks to his left, “Ser Davos?” 

“You’ll pray for a quick death.” 

Tyrion chuckles and turns his attention to the newly knighted Brienne. “Ser Brienne?” She shakes her head prompting Tyrion to turn to Tormund who also shakes his head with an almost animalistic growl. 

Suddenly, Podrick starts singing ‘Jenny of Oldstones’. 

“High in the halls of the kings who are gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts. The ones she had lost and the ones she had found, and the ones who had loved her the most,”

Somewhere in Winterfell's quarters Sam and Gilly lay in bed together with Little Sam between them. The two lay awake, staring at each other, sharing a brief moment before its ripped away.

“The ones who'd been gone for so very long,”

Out in the crowded courtyard, Sansa and Theon sit opposite to each other, sharing a brief moment before it all began. There’s a lit candle between them and two bowls of stew and a plate of bread. A quiet dinner with the person who’d saved them when they needed it the most.

“She couldn't remember their names. They spun her around on the damp old stones,”

In the hallways closest to the forge and smitheries, Gendry peacefully sleeps on a pile of rags with Arya laying next to him with her back turned. While he sleeps, she lays awake after the two had shared a rather intimate moment.

“Spun away all her sorrow and pain. And she never wanted to leave,”

Outside, the Unsullied start walking out of the courtyard. Missandei and Grey Worm walk together before he stops her, turns, and kisses her. It’s meaningful, both of them pouring out their love to one another, but also desperate, wanting to take as much as they could from the other person in such a brief moment. Grey Worm pulls away, and Missandei hands him his helmet. He grips it tight as he slips it over his head. Missandei pressed her forehead against Grey Worm’s helmet, savoring this last final moment. He then turns to leave and marches with the Unsullied, Missandei watching as he leaves.

Near the front gates of the castle everyone gathers for battle. Jorah rides on his horse and gazes at the horizon to only see darkness and the treeline. The Dothaki riders rode into position behind him. His hand tightens around Heartsbane, House Tarly’s ancestral sword, that was gifted to him by Sam only a few hours ago. 

“Never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave,”

Down at the crypts Jon and Daenerys stand together, admiring his mothers statue. Jon looks down at her, holding her close to his chest. Daenerys brings her hand to rest by his heart, but Jon grabs ahold of it. He says something to her, and she smiles slightly. She looks back at Lyanna's statue and says a few words that prompts Jon to lean down and capture her lips in a kiss. 

“Never wanted to leave. Never wanted to leave,”

I walked out of the Godswood forest, the cut on my hand now scabbed over and the blood around it now dried. Just as I reached the gates, the horns that would signal the dead approaching were blown. I rushed over to the already designated spot to meet the others. When I had arrived Jon, Daenerys, and Tyrion were there, looking over the ramparts into the darkness.  

Orders were being yelled out as soldiers quickly got their positions for the oncoming battle. Jon breathes heavily, and shifts his gaze to Daenerys. She looks equally as determined as him, ready to fight for the realm and face off the dead. She shifts her eyes to me and then wordlessly walks past us with the two of us following after her towards where the dragons were waiting for us. Tyrion watched the three of us depart and then turned his attention back to what was in front of him.

Up ahead, along the path to Winterfell an icy haze covers the ground, growing ticker even more. The mangled legs of a dead horse trot forwards. At the top the dead stallion was a White Walker, staring off to where Winterfell stood. Another White Walker mounted on a dead horse falls into line beside him, and a line of them emerge, all of them being Craster's sons and, more importantly, generals in the Night King’s army. Behind him, the Army of the Dead slowly comes forwards. It stretches far and wide, hundreds of thousands of undead wights. Slowly, but surely, they marched closer and closer to Winterfell.

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff @bdudette @bitchyfestivalbouquet @glitteryobjecttaco @cantbecreative @lovelyteenagebeard @the0twst0shrimp0mc @sucker4seresin @marytargaryen @naneko31 @9tailedfoxfire @iilsenewman @ivyrose9194 @coffee-is-my-oxygen @mysterypotatoink @bitchycolletorvoid @nattysplatty @wifiatthetrainstation @nymeriiiia @llynx7 @pookynknowntranger @riley-625-bell @myathegoat @evilunicorns4minions @honeycola-umbra @nen-nyy @agentdead @fanboilingwriter @sualocin @bintangbiru @talilosha

comment to be added to the taglist

[blakeswritingimagines]

Flowers In The Water

Summary: Sneaking around with Podrick and getting spoiled for it

Warnings: Hidden relationship, Sex, Teasing, Minx! Reader, Oral (on reader), Ambiguous reader but slight talk of breasts, Confessing love during sex, PWP, Talk of more rounds, No protection, Can't think of anything else but let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 3.3k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

It was a chill summer evening, Podrick Payne sat in his chair, looking out his window. Suddenly, he heard soft footsteps approaching his room. Podrick turned around to see you in the doorway, your figure visible in the dimly lit corridor behind you. He couldn't make out your face but he knew it was you, your frame was as familiar to him as the back of his hand. He said nothing, watching as you entered quietly.

You closed the door behind you, the sound almost deafening in the silence of the room as you slowly made your way over to Podrick. You climbed onto his lap, facing him and straddling him; your body was flush against his, his hard chest muscled against your lush curves. Podrick's face was flushed with excitement as he felt your body against his. His hands immediately went to your hips, holding you close like they had countless times before when you came to visit him in the night. He could smell the soft perfume that clung to your skin, a tantalizing scent that made him dizzy. Podrick's heart was pounding in his chest as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with lust. Podrick's breath caught in his throat as you straddled his lap. His fingers tracing a slow path up and down cloth covered skin, sending a shiver through him. He could feel the heat from your body, could smell the sweet fragrance of your shampoo. "You… You snuck in here again," he said, his voice low and slightly hoarse, his eyes trailing over every curve of your figure. You smile, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips as your hips grind gently against his lap, teasing him. "Of course I did," you reply, your voice soft but not quiet, a hint of playfulness in your tone. "I couldn't stay away." You run your hands across his chest, your fingers exploring the firm muscles beneath his shirt, and you can feel him shiver under your touch, his heart pounding faster.

Podrick's breathing grew slightly ragged as he felt your hips move against his lap, his eyes darkening with desire. He tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as you ground against him. His heart was pounding in his chest as you ran your hands across his chest, the feeling sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. Podrick's voice was huskier than usual as he spoke, his voice low and rough. "You're going to get me in trouble again," he said, his hands drifting up to your waist, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin of your stomach. You lean in closer to him, your face just inches from his, your breath hot on his skin. "Oh, is that a bad thing?" you murmur, a sly smile crossing your lips. "Because I quite like getting you into trouble, my little Podrick." Your hands roam further down his chest, coming to rest on his hips, your fingers toying with the waistband of his breeches. Podrick's eyes fluttered closed for a moment as your breath caressed his skin, a soft moan escaping his lips. When he opened them again, they were filled with a mix of longing and mischief. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "But either way, I can't seem to resist you." His own hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as he pulled you in for a deep, passionate kiss. Podrick's breath hitched in his throat as your face drew closer, the heat of your breath and your words sending a jolt of desire through him. He could barely focus on anything other than the feel of your hands on his body, the way they toyed with the waistband of his breeches. He let out a low groan of frustration as he tried to think straight. "You're driving me insane," he muttered into the kiss, his voice barely more than a rough whisper. His hands moved upwards now, his fingers tracing a path along the bare skin of your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. As he broke away, he nipped at your lower lip, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. "You know exactly how to make me weak," he murmured, his voice heavy with desire.

Your smile only widens at his words as you press yourself closer to him, closing the distance between your bodies until there is no space left between you. Your hands slide up his chest, fingers splaying across the warm skin of his neck, and you feel his pulse pounding just as erratically as your own. “Maybe that's the plan,” you whisper against his lips, your tongue tracing the line of his jaw before nipping at the sensitive flesh of his earlobe. You rock your hips against him, letting out a soft moan at the friction between your bodies. Podrick's breath hitched in his throat as your body pressed closer to his own, closing the distance between them. He could feel every curve of your body pressing against his, the heat of your skin seeping into him and sending a wave of desire coursing through his veins. When you spoke against his lips, your words were like a soft, sweet torture in his ears. Podrick let out a low moan as your tongue traced his jawline, the sharp sting of your teeth making his heart flutter. His hands moved down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he tried to keep himself grounded when you rocked your hips against him. You relish in the way his breathing quickens, the way his body responds to your touch, and you take delight in the way he tries to stay in control - even as you can feel the heat of desire radiating off him in waves. "You feel so good," you murmur against his ear, your hands roaming freely across his chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "I could touch you like this all night long." You grind against him once more, harder now, and the friction sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Podrick let out a low, ragged moan as you whispered in his ear, your words sending a shiver of anticipation through him. He could feel the heat coursing through him, a steady beat in his chest that echoed his desire. Every touch, every caress sent jolts of pleasure through his body, his grip on your hips tightening as he tried to maintain control. But as you ground against him harder, the thin facade of composure shattered like glass. He let out a guttural groan, the sound raw and animalistic. "Gods, you're killing me," he gasped, his voice barely above a rough whisper. Podrick's head fell back against the wall as you ground against him, a low groan rumbling in his chest. The sensation of your hands roaming across his chest, leaving trails of fire in their wake, was almost too much to bear. He could feel his resolve crumbling, his control slipping away with each passing second. His voice strained with need. "If we don't stop soon, I won't be able to hold back." His hips bucked up against yours instinctively, seeking more of that delicious friction. Despite his words, he made no move to push you away, his body betraying his desires.

Your smile widens as you feel his resolve crumble, his self-control slipping away with each passing second. You move your lips to his throat, kissing and nipping at the sensitive flesh, leaving behind a trail of possessive marks. Your hands continue to roam freely across his chest and abdomen, exploring every inch of him. "Who said I wanted you to hold back?" you murmur against his skin, your voice dripping with desire. With a sudden move, you slide your hips forward, pressing against him harder, the friction between your bodies almost unbearable. "You're far too dangerous, you know that?" he growled, his voice low and rough. "You drive a man crazy with just a touch." His gaze drifts down your body, taking in every curve, every line, every inch of skin that he can see. His eyes linger at a very specific point. Without warning, Podrick suddenly swept you up into his arms, carrying you effortlessly to the nearby bed. He laid you down gently, but there was an urgency in his movements, a desperation that bordered on animalistic. His gaze raked over your form, drinking in the sight of you spread out before him like a feast. With a growl, he quickly shed his clothes, revealing his hard, toned body to your hungry eyes. Then, without preamble, he dropped to his knees between your thighs, his mouth finding its way to your most intimate place. He attacked you with a fervor that left you gasping, his tongue delving deep inside you as he devoured you with reckless abandon. One hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as the other slid up your body to palm your breast, tweaking the nipple between his fingers.

A gasp tore from your lips as Podrick swept you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, his movements fueled by a primal craving that left your head spinning. The heat in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine as he took in the sight of you, your body laid out before him like a banquet. And when he dropped to his knees between your thighs, your breath caught in your throat, your body trembling with anticipation. You could feel the heat of his mouth against your skin, his tongue delving deep inside you as he feasted on your body with a hunger that left you breathless. Podrick's tongue worked tirelessly against your clit, lapping and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves until you were writhing beneath him, desperate for release. His hands roamed your body, kneading and squeezing your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers until they were stiff peaks begging for attention. He alternated between gentle kisses and biting nips along your inner thighs, leaving marks of possession on your skin. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, Podrick added a finger to your entrance, pumping slowly in time with his oral ministrations. The dual stimulation proved to be too much, and with a scream of ecstasy, you came undone, your body shaking and convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your entire body trembled as the first wave of pleasure washed over you, your mind blanking out from the intensity of it all. Podrick continued to work his magic, drawing out your orgasm until you were a quivering mess, completely spent. As the aftershocks faded, you lay there panting, your limbs heavy and sated. You reached out to pull Podrick up onto the bed with you, needing to feel his weight, his warmth against you. You managed to say, your voice hoarse from screaming. "You always know just what to do to drive me wild." You smiled up at him, your eyes shining with adoration and satisfaction.

Podrick crawled up your body, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, his chest heaving with exertion. He claimed your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as if trying to taste every inch of you. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper, more profound. "You have no idea how much I crave you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Every moment apart feels like an eternity." He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingertips tracing the curve of your cheek. "I never want to let you go." With those words, he settled into you, cradling you close as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His heartbeat synchronized with yours, a soothing rhythm that seemed to match the thrumming of your soul. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you listened to Podrick's heartfelt confession, feeling the depth of his emotions resonating within you. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight as if you could absorb him into your very being. "I feel the same way," you admitted softly, your voice choked with emotion. "Being apart from you is agony. But when we're together like this…it's like nothing else exists." You tilted your head up, seeking his lips in another tender kiss. As you lost yourselves in the embrace, you knew that this moment, right here, was everything. It was the culmination of years of longing, of dreams and desires finally coming true. In Podrick's arms, you had found not just love, but a sense of completeness, of belonging.

Podrick's lips moved against yours in a slow, sensual dance, pouring all his love and devotion into the kiss. He deepened it gradually, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth as if mapping every inch of you. His hands roamed your body, caressing and stroking, committing every curve and contour to memory. As the kiss intensified, Podrick rolled you onto your side, his body molding to yours perfectly. He trailed open-mouthed kisses along your jawline, down the column of your throat, until he reached the hollow of your collarbone. There, he paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he murmured, "Forever with you, my love. That's all I ever want." With those words, he sealed his promise with a possessive bite to your shoulder, marking you as his in the most primal way possible. A soft gasp escaped your lips as Podrick's teeth sank into your shoulder, the sudden pain mingling with pleasure, a visceral reminder of his claim on you. You arched into him, your body instinctively seeking more of his touch, more of his heat. "Mine," you breathed, the word torn from your throat as you echoed his sentiment. "You're mine, forever and always." Your hands slid down his back, gripping his firm buttocks and pulling him impossibly closer. The hardness of his arousal pressed against your thigh, stoking the embers of desire that still smoldered within you. You rolled your hips, grinding against him, seeking friction, seeking relief from the ache that had only grown more insistent since your earlier climax. "Make me yours again," you pleaded, your voice husky with need. "Claim me, entirely." Podrick's grip on your hips tightened as you ground against him, his control fraying at the edges. He wanted to savor this moment, to prolong the exquisite torment of your bodies joined in passion, but the raw hunger in your voice was impossible to resist. With a low growl, he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging insistently against your slick folds. "Never doubt that you're mine," he rasped, his voice thick with lust. "In every way, always." With that declaration, he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. A guttural moan ripped from his throat as he felt you clench around him, your body welcoming him home. He set a relentless pace, driving into you with deep, punishing strokes that had you seeing stars.

A moan of pleasure tore from your throat as Podrick filled you completely, his thickness stretching you in the most delicious way. The sensation of being so utterly claimed, so thoroughly possessed, sent waves of euphoria crashing through you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back as he began to move, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside you and sending sparks of electricity coursing through your veins. "Yes, yes, yes!" you chanted, your nails digging into his shoulders as you met his ferocious pace. The room spun around you, the sounds of your coupling echoing off the walls, a symphony of flesh slapping against flesh and ragged breathing. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, building towards a crescendo that threatened to consume you whole. "Don't stop." Podrick's response was a feral snarl, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor as he chased your impending release. The sound of your pleas, the feel of your nails raking down his back, only spurred him on, driving him to claim you harder, faster, deeper. Sweat dripped down his brow, mixing with the salt of your tears as he pounded into you, each stroke a declaration of his unrelenting desire, his unbreakable bond to you. "Never," he gritted out between clenched teeth. "I'll never stop, not until you're screaming my name, until you're overflowing with my seed, until you're irrevocably marked as mine." His words hung in the air, heavy with promise, as he pistoned into you with reckless abandon, determined to push you over the edge and into blissful oblivion.

Your body began to quake, the coil of tension inside you snapping taut before unraveling in a spectacular display of ecstasy. "Podrick! Oh gods, Podrick!" you wailed, your voice rising to a fever pitch as the orgasm crashed over you, waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure washing away all thoughts, all reason. You felt yourself clamping down around him, milking his length as he continued to drive into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of delight rippling through your core. The sensation of his hot seed flooding your womb only heightened the intensity, tipping you into a second, even more potent climax. You screamed his name again and again, lost to the maelstrom of sensation, as he rode out his own release, filling you to the brim with his essence. Podrick's roar of completion joined yours, a primal expression of the overwhelming pleasure that consumed them both. His body shuddered, locked tight against yours as he emptied himself deep inside you, claiming you in the most fundamental way possible. The sensation of his hot cum filling your womb, marking you as his, triggered a final, intense spasm of your inner muscles, milking him for every last drop. As the aftershocks slowly subsided, Podrick collapsed atop you, his weight a comforting pressure against your satiated form. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his breaths coming in ragged pants as he struggled to regain his composure. "Mine," he murmured, the word a vow, a testament to the unbreakable bond they shared. "Always and forever, my love." You shivered as he pulled out, feeling empty and used in the best way possible. A soft moan escaped your lips at the praise, basking in the warm glow of his approval. As you watched his cum dribble out of you, a fresh wave of arousal washed over you at the lewd sight. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming. "I loved every second of it. Being filled by you, marked by you…it's all I could ever want." Slowly, shakily, you sat up, wincing slightly at the soreness between your thighs. But it was a delicious ache, a reminder of what you had just shared. You looked up at him through hooded eyes, a coy smile playing on your lips despite your disheveled state. "So…when can we do this again?"

Podrick's eyes gleamed with mischief as he caught the playful note in your voice, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Whenever you desire it, my love," he purred, reaching out to trace a finger along your collarbone, down to the valley between your breasts. "I'm always ready to satisfy your cravings, to make you scream my name until you're hoarse." He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a reprise of their earlier intimacy. As he broke the kiss, he gazed at you with a heated intensity, his hand drifting lower to cup your sex, feeling the evidence of your renewed interest. "But perhaps we should clean up first," he suggested, his thumb brushing over your sensitive clit. "I wouldn't want our next round to be interrupted by sticky sheets."

[yourlocallunatic]

⚔️❣️MASTERLIST❣️⚔️

Ridoc Gamlyn (Fourth Wing)

You’re insufferable (smut, fluff, angst?)

Payback (smut, fluff)

Cregan Stark (House of the Dragon)

My King in the North (smut, fluff, sadness…)

Alpha Cregan Stark (a/b/o dynamics, smutty)

one, two

Podrick Payne (Game of thrones)

My Lady (smut, fluff)

[catsteeth]

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader 

+:✿ Chapter 1 ✿:+ : Lucky Boy

chapter 2

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, slow burn, mention violence, blood, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.

A/N: I am not giving up on the leashed dog series yall I promise I have just been PINING for pod the rod recently… and tbh we need a little sweetness with everything happening in the other series okay. He is a rom com boy trapped in a medieval fantasy war and I feel so bad for him.

Word Count: 3348 

It had been many days now being held by the Lannisters. You’d no real duties on Bear Island as it was such a small house. Your Aunt was a fierce leader and needed no guidance. You had chosen to venture off of Bear Island to celebrate your coming of age. You decided to travel all over the realm, you wished to see the world and experience all of it. However at a tavern near Kings Landing a man decided to grab at you. You hated it when men did that, so you took your cup of ale and smashed the whole cup into his nose. 

It broke of course, and of course, like a child he wept. If a man had done such to another man no one would have batted an eye. But because it was a gold cloak you “assaulted”, and because you were you, a Mormont. An enemy house, you were arrested and brought to the Lannisters. They thought of killing you but instead decided to make use of you.  

And they did make good use of you. With you there, Bear Island would be swayed away from ever siding with Stannis against them with you in your custody. Not only that but you were trained in healing, and not nearly as hardened looking as the other women of Bear Island. You were made Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell while she was inhabiting the city. 

Margery had done her part in helping you fit in. She showed you how to style your hair, how to pick a dress that suited your figure, how to manipulate the men around you, keeping you out of any more unnecessary trouble. When she dressed you up, no one would be able to tell you could swing a sword just as well as any Kingsgaurd or sellsword could. 

You see Margery had to pretend in front of everyone else, but with you, you weren’t loyal to the Lannisters and she knew this. Besides you two had bonded after many nights drinking wine late at night in her bedchambers. Like two little girls who had stolen their fathers ale. You’d spend the nights talking of your lives and your wishes. 

Margery was the same again and again, to be the queen. And yours was always the same, to live life and experience all you could.

You and she also talked of men. You’d had experience, and so had she. Not many women would admit it but you two were close enough that you felt you could. 

You and she attended many festive celebrations with one another, and to anyone else it would seem you were enjoying your time there. That was good, you did not want to attract any attention. 

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Your station as a handmaiden made it easy to overhear and eavesdrop on many high born conversations. One that caught your attention the most was that Janos Slynt, the commander of the gold cloaks, the man who arrested you, was going to be dismissed from his duty.

You weren’t above pettiness. You wanted to hear him be dismissed with your own ears. You found a small room within the castle. Tyrion was hosting a small dinner with Slynt. This was going to be the dinner where he was going to be dismissed. You pressed your back against the wall beside the door listening in. The majority of the dinner was mindless small talk, until

“Damn it boy!” Slynt said loudly. 

The shout was so loud you couldn’t help but turn and peer into the room, catching a glimpse of the man who arrested you, Lord Tyrion Lannister, and a squire. You saw that the squire had spilt wine all over the hand of Slynt. It made you smile, holding in amusement. 

“My apologies my Lord.” The shorter brown haired squire said. 

“You can pour your own wine.” Tyrion said in defense of the squire.

You looked back to Slynt and saw that you had been seen, Slynt raised a brow at you. 

“You girl! You the Mormont?" Slynt said loudly, 

‘Fuck’ you thought to yourself. Knowing you’d been caught. 

“Indeed, My Lord.” You said, putting on a meek and sweet demeanor.

“Come in here,” Slynt commanded. 

“What are you doing here, My Lady?” Tyrion questioned you gently.

“Looking for my Lady Tyrell, I seem to have lost my way, My Lord.” You said bowing your head. A convincing enough lie.

“I was responsible for your arrest, do you remember that, girl.” His face was confident and irritating.

“I do, Ser.” You said still attempting to keep a sweet and calm demeanor.  

“I thought she was to be punished?” Slynt said to Tyrion.

“She is HandMaiden to Lady Margery Tyrell, and as I am told, a very skilled healer. She has proven to be quite useful.” Lord Tyrion said with a smile looking at you, you smiled back. 

“A girl assaults a member of the gold cloaks and is given a position in your Kingdom?” 

“A decision made by the King. If you wish to disagree with his decision-” 

“Course not.” Slynt interrupted,  “Wine,” he commanded, holding up his empty cup. 

The same squire began to walk towards the man with the pitcher of wine. 

“Not you, boy, the bear girl.” Slynt said looking at you, the irritation boiled inside of you. But you did your best to keep your cool.

You took the pitcher from the squires hands, you looked at him for a moment, his worried expression changed into a smile. It was a smile of total innocence you thought to yourself. 

You took the pitcher and walked your way towards the table, as you began to pour wine into his cup he started to speak again. 

“Tell me girl, are you enjoying the city?” His tone was one of an interrogator.

“Yes, My Lord.” You said pouring, with a cherubic smile. 

“You don’t look like the women of Bear Island.” He said biting his lip, it made you feel ill.

“Indeed, My Lord.” Agree blindly, that’s what Margery taught you anyway

“Women there are beasts,” He said to Tyrion.

“Like you I assume?” Tyrion teased him, it made you smile.

“No, no, like her aunt Maege.” He said and your smile dwindled, but you kept it on. 

You didn’t respond this time, biting your tongue, you felt the anger in you rising but said nothing. You wanted to pour the wine on his balding head, but still, did nothing.

“Tell me is it true, is it true she fucked a bear?” 

“Lord Slyn-” Tyrion began

“What do you wish for me to say, my Lord?” You felt your temper slipping from between your fingertips. Your smile now gone. 

“Do you think I wish for you to lie girl?” Slynt’s tone was harsh,

You stared at him for a moment, your smile snapping back into place. 

“Whatever you’d command, my Lord.”

“Enough.” Tyrion tried to stop it.

“You’d do anything I commanded?” 

“I said enough. Lady Mormont, you may see to your lady.” Tyrion commanded, saving you from whatever was to come next.

You smiled and curtseyed as you walked back to place the pitcher back on the table. With your back turned to the men your face dropped and you made eye contact with the same squire. He looked at you with pity in his eyes. You couldn’t stand it. You spit into the pitcher and smiled at the squire, he tried hard to hold back his amusement, only giving it away with a smirk as he looked down at his feet. 

As you walked out of the room you made sure not to make the same mistake as before. You hid better, committed to hearing this man be removed from his position. And you did, and it was just as satisfying as you thought it would be. Especially when he was escorted by his own gold cloaks out of the tower, kicking and whining like a child.

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During the Battle of Blackwater you attended to many mens wounds. 

It had taken most of the night, you were not concerned with the war that waged outside the castle walls. If they won, nothing changed for you. If they lost, you’d either be set free, or once again, nothing would change. Most likely it would be the latter.

You among a few other ladies attended to wounds and dying men while the Maester did as much as he could for those who were far gone. 

Things had slowed down, beds were nearly full, but then knights rushed in holding Lord Tyrion. His face had been cut deeply. The cut had crossed his entire face. You could tell at first glance that it would scar, but he would live. It would have been extremely painful but thankfully he was unconscious. 

They were all shouting at the Maester. To halt what he was doing and to attend to their lord. As he did a tall man, Bronn, the man who replaced Slynt. Dragged a shorter man with short dark hair towards the Maester.

“Lads hand is cut deep, needs help.” Bronn said

“I can’t attend to every cut and scrape when there's a dying lord in my presence.” The old Maester said, quite dramatically you thought. Tyrion was badly wounded but he would live. “Mormont, girl, you attend to the lad!” He shouted to you.

“Is she any good?” Bronn said, the other shorter man looked at you with what looked like embarrassment, “This lad saved that Lord's life.” You huffed at his comment, it annoyed you how he didn’t ask you but the Maester.

“If I’d a cock they’d call me a Maester.” You said walking closer to him til you were inches apart, it made him take a gasp of air puffing up his chest, and his lips formed a line. “Show me,” You said, much softer this time. He relaxed a bit and as you presented your hand, palm facing him. He placed his hand in yours. “Not so bad,” you said as you examined it. 

“Hear that Podrick, not bad-” Bronn said to the shorter man. 

“Not so bad. It is still bad.” You noticed his expression change to a more worried one. You, for some reason, felt the need to let your cold and hardened attitude slip for a moment. “But you won’t lose it. I’ll clean it, stitch it, and bandage it.” You placed your other hand over his, trying to comfort him. “Sit.” 

He nodded and did so, laying his hand on the table. You began to clean it. Your eyes snapped from his wound to his face as he winced. “Is it true?” he looked at you and his eyes made your stomach feel like there were butterflies in it, so you looked back to his wound as you tended to it, “You saved him? Lord Tyrion?” 

“I- I helped him, My Lady.” He said, stammering. Though you weren’t looking at him you could tell his eyes were on your face.

“You’re quite brave, Ser.” You said as you finished cleaning his wound.

“Thank you, My Lady, but I’m not-” 

“He’s no Ser, that lads a squire.” Bronn interrupted, “I tell you what though Lass, you want a knight I’ll be happy to oblige.” He said stepping closer to you, your eyes returned to your work on the squires hand.

“Men like you amuse me, Ser. They believe they are still young, handsome, and desirable. No matter what they look like.” You said attempting to fain genuine amusement as if he’d told a joke.

As Bronn attempted to begin a retort, you heard a small laugh leave the unconscious Lord’s lips, still not fully conscious.

“See? I am a good healer.” You said as everyone looked at Tyrion's subtle laugh as you continued to work. 

The squire looked back at you with a slight grin, as if he were trying to hide his amusement.

“Much braver for a squire to do such a thing.” You said softly just so he’d hear it. 

He smiled at you in response, He was pretty you thought. Men on Bear Island were fearsome, rigid, and gruff. This one wasn’t, the opposite in fact. He’d had a natural goodness about him, a sweetness. 

That's when you realized he was the same squire from the dinner between Ser Slynt and Lord Tyrion. 

“I know you.” You said with narrow eyes and furrowed brows, finally realizing. 

“Yes, my Lady.” His smile and innocent response made you smile involuntarily, you tried to hide it to no avail. You were flattered that he’d even remembered you. The feeling of flattery didn’t come naturally to you at all either.  

“This part is going to hurt.” You said pulling the curved needle through his flesh, he winced and hissed. Your eyes went towards him, normally you never cared. A man should learn to handle pain, you always thought. But you hated to see him in any discomfort. “Bring him wine.” You called out to Bronn. Your words towards Bronn were no near as gentle and sweet sounding as they were towards Podrick. 

He began to drink it, only sipping a little at first, but you pushed the cup up making him down more. “You’ll want to be numb to this.” You explained. 

As he continued to drink you continued with your work. By the end of it you bandaged his hand, “Finished,” You said standing up, and he followed your actions. 

“I can’t thank you enough, my lady.” He said clearly a little drunk from the wine. 

“Alright,” Bronn said grabbing Podrick by the back of his neck and dragged him out of the chamber. You could hear Bronn outside say “You can fuck the she-bear later.” followed by some distant protesting by Podrick.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

A day had passed since the battle. You were in your chambers with Margery. You’d told her about all the handsome knights you’d seen that night. 

She’d teased you about how lucky you were to have gotten your hands on so many. You had begun to describe the squire you’d met. How strange it was to have met a man so pleasant in such an awful place. 

As the two of you laughed there was a knock at your door. Margery took it upon herself to answer it. 

“Lady Tyrell, apologies for the interruption. I came to thank Lady Mormont.” You heard his voice and knew who it was immediately. 

“Ah! I take it you were a knight she tended to during the battle?” Margery asked him, you wanted to laugh, but held it in.

“A squire, my Lady.” He said, his tone was somewhat sullen. As if he were embarrassed to say it.

“A squire…” Margery said with her signature smile as she turned to look at you, raising her eyebrows, then turning back to him “Well I shall leave you to express your gratitude.” She said as she left.

You stood from your chair and stepped forward.

“Lady Mormont?” He said walking towards you, as he did he pulled out a small but beautiful delicate yellow flower. It had only recently bloomed. 

“A flower?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. On Bear Island people hardly said the word thank you much less showed appreciation through gifts, especially not such sweet ones as this.

“I don’t have much, my lady. But I- I wanted to show my gratitude.” He said with his token innocent wide eyed look. You took the flower and smiled slightly, which made him smile back.

“It was my duty, you don’t need to give me flowers for it.” He looked down, as if he was disappointed in himself. You smelt the flower, to show your hidden appreciation of the gesture. “Show me your hand.” You held your hands out, he hesitated not expecting you to command such a thing, but he did it as you asked. “Hurting at all?” You asked softly examining the cut.

“No, my lady.” His voice was gentle as always.

“It’s healing well.” You said running your finger tip along the length of the stitches, the sensation made him take his hand away, rubbing it against the side of his pants. 

He grunted a little and cleared his throat, “All your doing, my Lady.” 

You looked at him with a smirk, “How long have you been squiring for Lord Tyrion?” 

“For a short time,” 

“Well, you’ll need to learn to pour wine. You spill wine on every Lord in Westeros, sooner or later you’ll spill it on the wrong one.” You said walking towards a table, you grabbed a glass and a pitcher of wine.

“Pour me wine.” You said handing him a pitcher of wine.

You stepped closer towards him, making his swallow hard. But he took the pitcher nonetheless.

“hold the pitcher like this-“ You said moving his hands position with your own, “from the handle, and the bottom” You looked up into his eyes, noticing he was looking right at you “Keep your eyes on the glass.” You said, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in and going back to the task at hand. 

“Like this?” He asked, his voice somewhat more confident.

“Mhmm.” The hum of your voice too close to him made him close his eyes for just a moment. He finished filling your cup, without spilling a drop, “Very good.” As you said it he and you looked at one another, his eyes were wide once again.

“What were you doing there, my lady?” He asked, with a genuine curiosity. “You said you were looking for your Lady, and forgive me for suspecting otherwise-” 

“Eavesdropping.” You interrupted “I had heard they were sending Slynt away, and I wanted to hear it myself.” 

“How did you hear of that?” 

“Again, eavesdropping.” You smirked

“A-and what are you doing here, in Westeros? You were arrested?” 

“It seems you were also eavesdropping.” You teased him.

“Uh well we were in the same room-” You ignored him,

“I left Bear Island to travel, during my travels a Gold cloak tried to force himself on me, so I defended myself.” You said in a matter of fact, you’d no regrets, and no pain towards the matter. However his big brown eyes looked saddened for you, pity, you couldn’t stand pity, “It’s alright, really.” You said trying to reassure him.

“Do you miss your home?” He asked, sweetly.

“I do,” You responded softly, strange how this man was able to gentle your harsh demeanor.

“What was it like?” When he asked it you were thrown off, no one had asked you anything about your home in a genuine way. No one had any interest in it beyond the same constant boring insults.

“Cold. Not just the temperature, the people. But it was beautiful there. Green, rivers, waterfalls.” You smiled softly thinking of it, and found yourself wondering about him, “What of you? You miss your home?” 

“I didn’t have much of one, my Lady.” He lowered his head,

“How’d you get here?” Your eyes narrowed wanting to know more of him. Genuinely. 

“I was the squire for a Ser Lorimer of the Westerlands army. One night he was drunk, and he stole a ham, he shared it with me. We were caught, and he was sentenced to hang for his crime but I was spared for my name.” 

“Lucky boy.” You said with a smirk. One that made his stomach flip. 

“You are different, with the men at the tables. You’re sweet and… simple- but you're not that.” He said, stammering, trying his best not to offend you. 

Your smirk faded, “Men want sweet and simple. Men don’t beat things that are sweet and simple.” 

“You’ve been beaten?” He asked as if it were a horrific discovery. 

“Most girls have.” You said calmly in contrast 

“I-I am sorry, My Lady.” 

“That’s alright. "

“No, it’s not.” 

“No, it’s not.” You smiled softly at him. “You’re a good man, for a southern man. Or just for a man.” 

“Thank you, my lady.” He said with a slight grin. 

“You don’t have to call me that. (Y/N), will do.” 

“(Y/N)” he smiled to himself “(Y/N) Mormont… it is a pretty name.” His grin grew

“You never told me yours.” 

“Ser Bronn told you-“

“But you never told me.” You interrupted. 

“Podrick Payne, my- (Y/N)” He stumbled remembering to call you by your name. 

“Well, goodnight then, my Podrick.” You said teasingly with a smirk. 

Hearing you say those words, “my” followed by his name made a heat rush his face, a visible one. He licked his lips and bowed his head as he responded “Goodnight, (Y/N)” He said as he left you. 

You smelt the flower once more before Margery barged in, 

“A squire?” 

NOTE:  There is a serious drought of Podrick Payne fan fiction series on this app so I had to.  And yes… as always my babygirls, we will be fucking. JUST HOLD ON…  I don’t know dick about Slynt so his dialogue is probably off so i apologize if you love him or smth lmao.  TAG LIST: This is a new series so if you want to be included comment or message me!

[llonelygoddess]

How they react to...You being good with a sword

A/N: Not my best work but I'm open to feedback!

Characters: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Sandor Clegane, Sansa Stark, Khal Drogo, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Jorah Mormont

TW: Horny characters, violence?

Ned Stark: You'd both be out watching Robb, Jon, and Theon practicing with their swords in the court yard. Jon's kicking both of their asses and it's getting hard to watch so you excuse yourself from Ned's side. Walking down to the courtyard, you grab a sword and show them defensive and offensive positions. Ned almost objects as you begin but seeing his kids take your advice so seriously he smiles. If the boys can respect you as a teacher then so could he. Now, He didn't like the idea of you being in a situation where you have to use a sword but knowing you can wield one turns him on lol

Margaery Tyrell: In the life you'd live with Margaery it would be best to keep your talent hidden. It was scandal enough to be courting someone that wasn't a man, but if said person also brandished a sword it would be the hottest gossip of the city. So you save your skills for real emergencies and the first time Margaery sees this she is beyond confused and a little scared. In private she'll thank you for saving her and ask how you learned such a thing.

Sandor Clegane: This guy is the least phased. Like, he's definitely caught off guard by how skilled you are but not much surprises him anymore. He gives you tips every now and then but really believes in your capability. I like to think one of his favorite moments are after you both have had a good fight and you take turns taking care of each other. Wiping the wounds clean, covering them, and then taking a hot bath together ( or separate cause mans is BIG).

Sansa Stark: It kinda depends on which era of Sansa we're talking about. Like if it's younger Sansa than she's probably a little frightened of you but would be dying to hear the stories of how you came to be so good. If it was older Sansa then she's highly impressed and requests for you to be apart of her personal guard. She likely will ask for you to teach her a few things so she can defend herself as well.

Khal Drogo: Man is impressed. He values strength so seeing you with a weapon at all riles him up, but seeing you defend yourself from another Dothraki who spoke against you? He's immediately dragging your ass to bed, or he might just take you in front of everyone.

Brienne of Tarth: <3 Big heart eyes<3 Finally! Someone who can keep up with her. This woman spent her whole life being told that anyone who wasn't a man couldn't possibly wield a sword properly, and after proving that wrong herself it's refreshing to see you also beating the stereotypes. She loves to train with you and teach you things as well as learn from you. After your first real battle together she'll do her best not to hover but you can tell she's stressed out about whether you were hurt or not. Of course she knows you can take care of yourself but she loves you and can't help but worry.

Missandei: As an educated woman and former slave, Missandei never had time ( or the desire) to learn the ways of a sword. When she met you, you were training with Jorah and Grey Worm and she was impressed with how you could keep up with them. From then on, She's always enjoyed watching you train, your strength filling her with pride. She feels content knowing that you can defend yourself and her at any moment.

Podrick: Honestly, he's relieved. I mean, don't get me wrong he'll defend you without a second thought ( it's very hot) but knowing that you can handle yourself in a fight takes the pressure off of him a little. He worries for you, the world you both live in will eat and spit people out and the thought of something happening to you haunts him. He may try to give you tips ( even if you're better than him lol), so just let him help the few ways he can.

Jorah Mormont: You'd both probably meet while working for Daenerys so there's almost an expectation that you'd be good at defending yourself/her. In your first fight together you save him from a sword that nearly took his head off and after that day he begins to see you as more than just another guard.

[tj-is-down]

Squire Squabble (pt. 1) Podrick Payne x reader

So, I wrote this fic in 2022 and it's been sitting in my Google Docs ever since. Enjoy it! There's a Part Two that I'll probably post tomorrow.

Summary: Pod and Brienne meet one of Brienne's old acquaintances while traveling, and Pod does not get along with the man's squire.

Word count: ~2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, maybe? I can't remember. But I know that's really it. Also, most of my fics are gender neutral, but this one is written with a feminine reader in mind. Sorry!

Pod and Brienne sit in a tavern at nightfall. Pod is eating quickly and hungrily, having not eaten anything since the day prior. His fault, really, messing up the fire and forgetting to skin the rabbit and--well, it’s best not to get into it all. Brienne, he notices, isn’t eating, despite having eaten the same amount as he has in the last twenty-four hours, which is none.

“Are you not going to eat, my lady?” He asks, mouth full of food.

Brienne doesn’t answer, instead continuing to glare in the direction of another table behind Podrick. He goes to turn his head, but is stopped by Brienne.

“Don’t you dare,” she grunts, freezing him in motion.

He slowly turns back to face her. “What are you looking at?”

“Not what,” Brienne clarifies, “who. In this case, Ser Carac McLane of Tarth.”

Pod waits for her to continue, confused. “Who?”

“We grew up together,” Brienne says, “and he tormented me every day of my life. Everything I did, he had to be better. Learned to fight before me--because he’s a man, of course--and he’s never let me live it down. He thinks that age somehow triumphs over experience and skill--two things I have, and he doesn’t. He’s arrogant, ignorant, and classless. And that’s not the half of it.”

“How long has it been since you’ve last seen each other?” Pod asks, taking another bite. “Perhaps he’s changed, or--”

“People like him aren’t ones who change, Podrick,” Brienne interrupts. Her face suddenly drops. “Shit. He’s walking over. Stop eating, and sit up straight. Don’t give him any reason to critique you. Podrick, I said stop eating!”

How am I supposed to swallow this if I can’t chew? Pod thinks, yet he doesn’t have another second to resolve his issue before they are approached by Ser Carac, along with a younger individual about the same age as Pod.

Brienne stiffens, moving to stand up, but Ser Carac waves her off. “No need for formalities, Brienne of Tarth. We’re past that by now, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so, Ser Carac of Tarth,” Brienne responds. “This is my squire, Podrick Payne.” She gestures to Pod, who nods his head, mouth still full of food. Ser Carac nods in his direction, yet his companion doesn’t, instead choosing to half-smirk at him, seeing right through his facade. He glares back at them, trying to be as menacing as possible. He realizes, however, that it’s entirely useless, as he looks like a chipmunk with his mouth full of food.

“You’ve a squire now?” Ser Carac asks incredulously. “I never thought I’d see the day you reached such a high rank. This is Y/N, my squire.”

 “What brings you to this area?” Brienne asks. “I’d have thought you were retired, old as you are.”

“Might I remind you, I’m not much older than you,” Carac states.

“Your lack of hair could’ve fooled me,” Brienne replies. Podrick nearly spits out his food holding back a laugh. He’ll have to commend Brienne for that later.

Both Carac and Y/N look over at him, Y/N shooting daggers at him. Carac, however, seems to ignore it, instead turning back to Brienne.

“Well, as much as it was a pleasure seeing you, we must be off.”

“Don’t choke, Podrick,” Y/N says,harshly patting him on the back before turning to walk away. Pod starts coughing, the food getting stuck in his throat. He quickly gulps from his cup and turns back to glare at Y/N. They’re looking over their shoulder at him, half-smirking. 

Pod decides at this moment that he dislikes them. Immensely.

“Told you,” Brienne says.

* * *

Pod and Brienne are long beyond the tavern now, about a day’s journey out. The sun is concluding its descent, and the two have decided to stop for the night, when they see the faint orange glow of a fire coming through the trees.

“Should we see about that up there?” Pod asks.

“Well, seeing as you can’t start a fire for shit, there’s no harm in joining those who already have one going, is there?” Brienne replies.

Apparently there was harm in joining those who already have a fire, since those happened to be Ser Carac and Y/N, who seem to have just begun to make camp.

“Lady Brienne, what a surprise!” Ser Carac says, although he seems more annoyed than surprised. “I didn’t know you were going this way. We could have traveled together. Although, I know how much you enjoy your beauty sleep, despite its lack of effect. I, on the other hand, wake up with the sun.”

Brienne rolls her eyes, ignoring his comment. “Would you mind if we joined you, Ser Carac? I would hate to intrude.”

“Too late for that,” Carac mutters. “But since you’re here, please, join us.”

Pod and Brienne dismount their horses, tying them up to a couple of nearby trees. Y/N stares at them as they do so, eyes following their movements. “Lady Brienne,” they say, nodding their head. “Podrick,” they add, suddenly stone cold and straight faced.

He doesn’t reply, instead taking a seat across from them by the fire.

After an hour or so, Carac speaks up. “I’m getting tired. Y/N, Podrick, make up our tents, won’t you?”

The two nod, getting up to do as he says.

They walk a short ways away from the fire, making sure they’re within eyesight but far enough away that they’re hidden if anyone sees the fire from afar and comes to attack them. Now that night’s fallen, it’s too cold to be without fire, regardless of the dangers. Pod and Y/N work silently, a wordless agreement that despite their dislike for each other, putting the tents up together is much faster than doing it alone. They put the first two up effortlessly, but when it comes to the third, things all come crashing down--literally.

Pod pulls a piece of fabric from the pile at the same time as Y/N, who then attempts to take it away from him. He pulls it back towards himself and Y/N does the same, resulting in a competition tug-of-war. After a moment, they hear the sound of the fabric tearing, and sure enough, the cover is ripped in half.

“You ripped the tent,” Y/N shouts, angry and nervous at the same time. “And now I’m going to have to answer for it.”

“That’s because it’s your fault,” Pod retorts. “You pulled too hard on the cloth, not me.”

Y/N scoffs. “Are you joking? You’re the one who pulled too hard. And I don’t appreciate--”

Pod speaks up, interrupting. “Now, that is not true, and I don’t appreciate--”

Before long, the two are in a brawl, shouting over one another and shooting daggers with their eyes.

“What’s going on here?” Brienne says as she and Ser Carac approach the pair.

“Your squire ripped the tent,” Y/N and Pod say to Brienne and Carac at the same time. They glare at each other at the realization.

“We’ve lost a tent?” Brianne asks rhetorically. “Well, I’m not sleeping on the ground. Are you, Ser Carac?”

He shakes his head. “I am not.”

“Well, then. That settles it.”

“I’m not sleeping on the bare ground,” Y/N says, turning to Pod and crossing their arms. “Be a good squire, will you?”

“Absolutely not,” Pod laughs. “You’re the one who ripped the tent, you should be sleeping on the ground.”

“You can’t be serious, I--”

“Both of you, sleep in the tent,” Ser Carac interrupts. “Or you can both sleep on the ground.”

At the sight of their faces, Brienne smirks. “And we don’t want to hear another word from either of you about it. That’s an order, Podrick.”

“You too, Y/N,” Ser Carac adds. With that, the two disappear into their tents.

“Since when did those two get along?” Y/N mumbles, staring after them, while Pod starts gathering the leftover materials for the last tent. He gets a fair bit through before catching Y/N’s attention.

“What are you doing?” They whisper to him, careful not to get the attention of either Brienne or Carac.

“What does it look like? I’m making up the tent.”

Y/N shrugs. “Have fun. I’m sleeping out here.”

“No, you’re not. You heard them, Y/N. Either we both sleep out here or we both sleep in there. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather a roof over my head, however thin.”

“I don’t care what orders we have, Podrick. I’m not sharing a tent with you, and I’d rather lose my hand like Jaime Lannister than sleep next to you out here.”

“Lucky for you, that can be arranged,” Pod grumbles. “Now, I’m serious Y/N. Come on. I’m not getting in trouble because you’ve decided to be a spoiled princess about this.”

“A princess? Me? Please. If anyone here’s acting that way, it’s you. Why does it matter where I sleep?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“No.”

Pod rolls his eyes before continuing. “We’ve been given orders, Y/N.” He grabs their arm and tries to pull them toward the tent. “Come on.”

Y/N pulls back. “No.”

“Y/N, please, I won’t do this all night--”

He pulls harder, but Y/N loses their footing and falls onto him, toppling into the tent.

For a minute Y/N is frozen on top of him, shocked at the quick change in position from standing up to laying down. They feel the warmth of his breath on their face, and his eyes flicker quickly to their mouth before meeting their eyes again.

“All right, Princess,” he says, slowly rolling Y/N off of him. “Off you go.”

“What did I tell you about that nickname?” They reply, exasperated.

“When are you going to realize that it doesn’t matter to me what you tell me?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You might think you’re royalty, but you aren’t. You’re a squire, just like me.”

“Believe me, I’m nothing like you.”

“Thank the gods. Now, go to sleep, will you? I’m tired.”

* * *

Pod is still awake a while later, though he’s not sure how much time has passed. Y/N shakes and stirs, clearly attempting to not make a sound. They are unsuccessful.

“You’re keeping me up,” Pod says monotonously. “Go to bed.”

“I’m cold,” they say, and Pod hears them turning to the other direction. The two are facing outward, away from each other, about a foot apart. There isn’t much space for anything more than that, since the tent is so small. The temperature has dropped drastically in the night, and although Pod has a coat, he can still feel a chill in the air.

“Aren’t you from the North?” Pod asks.

“So? I’ve not a coat, Podrick. A wolf would be cold in this weather.”

“Well, I’m not giving you my furs,” he grunts. “Then I’ll be cold.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Y/N continues to toss and turn, not caring whether or not they keep Pod awake. Why must they make him suffer just because they are?

After a moment Pod lets out an irritated sigh, and shuffles over. At the feeling of his body behind theirs, Y/N stiffens.

“What are you doing?” They ask him.

“Getting you warm. I need sleep, Y/N, and I won’t very well get that with you moving around every ten seconds. Now, come on, move closer.”

They wait a moment, he assumes in order to process his words. He’s not gotten along with Y/N since their meeting the day before, and he knows they’d rather not give in to anything he says or asks, but at this point he also knows they’re too tired and cold to care. They scoot backwards a half an inch, seemingly satisfied with the positioning as Pod wraps an arm around them. He tries to keep his face away from theirs, but eventually gives up and rests it in the crook of their neck.

“This means nothing,” Y/N asserts, stating matter-of-factly.

Pod doesn’t buy it, though. He feels their heart beating and their breath evening, giving away the comfort and ease they feel in the position you two are in. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

“I hate that nickname. And I really hate you.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

[spxllcxstxr]

Falling Asleep with Podrick Payne • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi! I saw your Game of Throne requests are open and I wanted to send one! I’ve just started watching last month for the first time, and Pod absolutely has my heart. Would you be okay writing something nice and soft for him? He’s too pure! Thanks in advance, sorry this isn’t super specific. — anon

Warnings: gn!reader, Takes place around Season 3 (ish) in King's Landing

A.N: first time writing pod! i wanted to do a hc because that was easiest when thinking about the character idk, you said cute and all i could think of was falling asleep with the sweetheart!! Hope you all enjoy! (i'm so so sorry this took so long and that its so so short rip)

•

While Tyrion gives his squire more than enough downtime, by the end of the day Podrick is always exhausted

Podrick’s relationship, both professional and friendly, with Tyrion puts him in a dangerous position

With all the secrets and sneaking around on top of the normal doings of a Lannister’s squire, there is almost no time to even breathe

So Podrick is always tired by the time Tyrion dismisses him for the night

His quarters in King's Landing become yours fairly quickly after you two get together

You always make sure your bed is made perfectly before he gets back

If you’re already laying in bed by the time he arrives, he’ll waste no time kicking off his boots and shrugging off his abnormal amount of buckled gear

He may splash some cool water on his face to wash away the grime

But honestly all he wants is you and his bed

Podrick will pull you close to him, even if it’s hot outside and the air is oppressive

He just really really wants you near him

“C’mere, love…”

If something interesting has happened he’ll share it with you

Literally just a gossip session

And then he’ll ask you about your day

And he’ll stroke your cheek and kiss your forehead

His cuddles are absolutely the best

He’s the best pillow ever omg

Falls asleep gradually but denies this

“I am not falling asleep, love, I am just resting my eyes!”

Basically immediately falls asleep

Snores lightly rip

Podrick is so smitten with you even in his sleep

The whole night at least one part of his body of touching you

Or holding you

Man cannot let you go at all lmao

Even if you shift in your sleep there’s no getting away from him

You love it though

And neither of you would have it any other way

Podrick wakes up earlier than you for obvious reasons

But he always lies awake in bed for a little bit

Caressing your skin

Placing kisses on your forehead

He really doesn’t want to leave you; you’re so peaceful and pretty that all he wants to do is lay back down next to you

If he could stay in bed all day he would (as long as you were there)

•