Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book four

Nameday - Part 17 - Bronn x Reader

Bronn sat next to her on the bedroll. His hand carefully holding onto her chin.

"That's a bruise and a half............" He said, as took in the visible damage that had been done to her by the big man.

"This........I've had worse............."

"You.......you have had worse..........." Bronn countered. A smirk on his lips as he quirked a brow at her.

"Yes, I have. Alright I may not have sustained the last one in such a dramatic fashion as this, but..............I was nearly six and Tyrion was four; I remember I took him down to the beach below the Rock because Cersei was being particularly awful to him, and I wanted to make him smile. We were stood there, throwing pebbles into the sea, seeing who could send them the furthest. Then he called my name, and I turned to look at him; he had the biggest smile on his face as he held this large stone, I think he wanted me to watch him throw it. But, instead of it hitting the water.......it hit me. My little brother had an amazingly strong arm for a four-year-old, and the entire side of my face was bruised. I have never seen Tyrion cry like he did that day. He was so afraid that he had really hurt me; that I would now hate him as much as Cersei did. But I could never hate him.......not for that or anything else..........." (Y/n) explained. Her eyes flying up, as Bronn let out an amused snort, that turned into a laugh; a laugh that proved contagious. Though as soon as she laughed........

"But I have never had worse than this.........." The lioness continued, wincing as the pain around her ribs flared up.

"Let me see............." Bronn said, as he tried to move her nightgown.

"What......no.......I'm, I'm fine............" (Y/n) countered, as she pushed away his hands.

"Come on. Ain't like I haven't seen it all before, luv........." He reasoned. The lady finally nodding, before allowing him to help her take off her night wear. The sellsword admiring the beautiful body that he missed so much, before remembering that it was the bruises, not the breasts he was supposed to be focused on. Bronn having her lay down, before his rough fingers ran over her soft skin. The lioness hissing as he pushed on the red and purple flesh.

"Ribs are always tricky. But I don't think that anythin is broken; just badly bruised, luv............" (Y/n) turning onto her back so she could look up at him.

"And when did you become a maestre.........?"

"Fuck meastres. I've had more bruised and broken ribs than tha likes a that old bastard Pycelle has taken whores and chambermaids ta his bed......." Bronn countered, as he leaned over her; caging (Y/n) between his arms.

"Ya really are beautiful......." He continued, his eyes back to taking in the form that he knew so well. The form that had given him two children; whose beasts were still swollen with milk, and he wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in all his days. His eyes closing as she reached up and placed her hand on his cheek.

"Bronn, I............take off your shirt.........."

"What........?"

"I said, take off your shirt..........." Bronn not needing to be told again. The sellsword almost tearing the material as he pulled the grubby white shirt over his head. He and (Y/n) both moaning, when she drew him down to her. Bare flesh pressed against bare flesh. Bronn letting his hands slowly, carefully move over her sides. Her familiar curves making him sigh.

"I've missed this.......I've missed you. The smell of you, the taste of you.......the feel of you. I don't know what I would have done without you today. What could have happened if..............I've missed you more than I thought I could. Need you more than I want to admit. My children.......our children need you. I love you, Bronn, and even though I fear that one day you will break my heart, I can't deny how I feel any longer. So, stay with me.....be with me. Be with us..........." The lioness told him, while her hands caressed his hair, and then the muscles in his shoulders and back. A smile coming to her lips, as she felt him tremble underneath her fingertips. The sellsword moving himself to in between her legs, that wrapped themselves around him. Bronn pulling them up high, so that he could reach his breeches; the coarse material quickly moved down, before he just as quickly pushed himself inside her. Her wetness, her tightness, feeling like a home that he had been forced away from, for too long. A home that he never wanted to leave again.

"Always..........." Bronn replied. The moans of the pair, soon filling the night air.

                                              >>--------------------------------------<<

Tyrion woke as the coolness of the morning air seemed to nip at his skin. The little lord slowly, and reluctantly, rising from his makeshift bed on the floor; hoping and praying that the new day didn't bring with it as much.........excitement as the last day had.

It was funny to say, but when he had seen Bronn coming back into the clearing with his rescued son in his arms, he had felt a sense of pride. Pride in the fact that he was proving that he was more than the man that he had met that day in the tavern, more than just the sellsword. That he was a better man that was willing to do what he needed to do to look after his son, his little family. Tyrion looking over to Bronn's bedroll, it obvious that it had not been slept on. The youngest Lannister getting to his feet and going to look for the other man.

The last thing that he could recall was that Bronn had told him that he was going for a walk and would return soon. Yet sleep had taken Tyrion, before he could see if that was the case. He deciding to check in on (Y/n) and the children, to see if Bronn had already come to call. Yet as he got to the tent, out rushed a rather red faced Elna. The maid, quickly curtsying before rushing off. Tyrion watching her for a moment, his brows furrowed, before entering the temporary structure.

"(Y/n), what..............." He called out. His eyes growing wide, and a smile coming to his lips as he saw what had caused his sisters maid to look as she had. A still sleeping lioness and a sellsword, naked together on the floor; their bodies wrapped around one another. Tyrion quietly making his way over to the crib and managing to pick up both the twins.

"It would appear that your mother and father have made up. Let's leave them to sleep a little longer shall we; I think they might need it........." Tyrion said softy to the cooing pair, who looked up at him with big doe eyes. The diminutive lord just shaking his head before making his way to find the flustered Elna.