You sigh unenthusiastically, leaning against the wall, intricately decorated with lavender. You are happy for Sansa of course, it is your honor to serve the Stark girl, but the wedding means she will most likely lessen your duties under her service. With the Hound as a husband, he will do most of the protection and guarding, leaving you with measly duties and errands. The union is lovely, and you can tell that the pair is happy to be together, but you can't push away the realization that your service to her will be reduced.
You pick up your cup of wine, the liquid slowly taking your worry away. You don't drink. Ever. It's never a good thing to let your guard down; however, Sansa insisted on having you celebrate, which meant participating in the toasts and festivities.
You pull your eyebrows together from the taste. It isn't terrible, it's the best wine of the North, but you never cared for indulgences anyways. The strong scent burns your nostrils, but you gulp I'm down anyways, starting the cycle of self loathing again.
"Don't like weddings?"
You jump at the sudden gruff intrusion of your thoughts. You hear a roaring laugh as you turn to see your red haired admirer. He's wearing his best furs, and has clearly been indulging as well; the evidence of his drunken state is clear as his wine sloshes from his goblet, held lackadaisically in his lax hand.
You roll your eyes.
Not now.
"I happen to be enjoying this event." You state, straightening your posture as you try to bring some form of energy into your voice.
His face scrunches in amplified confusion.
"Really? Cause to me ya look like you're havin a terrible fuckin time. Ya look miserable."
You shoot him a look of defiance, narrowing your eyes at him in anger.
You bring your libation to your lips, gently wetting them before taking in more of the strong drink.
Maybe if you drink more, you'll be less aggravated.
"What's wrong, my beauty?" He gently coos, boldly bringing his hand to caress the side of your neck.
You shiver from the touch and quickly swat his hand away, stretching your neck and shoulders to shrug off his movements, turning away from him.
Your attention is drawn to the roar of laughter echoing in the main banquet hall, near where you're at currently. You look longingly in the direction of happiness.
"Ya gonna stay here all night, beauty?"
"Perhaps I will, then will you go away?" You angrily spit your words at him.
His smile does not falter as he approaches you, walking to stand face to face with you.
"You know as well as I do that your feistiness makes me want you even more than I already do." He whispers, raising an eyebrow as he leans in closer to you.
You scoff as you cross your arms, bringing the cup to your mouth again. Out of the corner of your eye you see Tormund licking his lips, clearly enjoying watching you.
Distracted as you observe his expressions, the red wine spills over the edge of your cup, splashing messily on the left side of your light blue tunic. You hold the cup angrily out in front of you as Tormund begins to chuckle.
"Have you had too much to drink tonight, my lady?" He teases.
You turn quickly to give him a look, before he struts right up to you, caressing the spots of wine. Grabbing the material gently between his fingers, he massages the cloth back and forth, observing the damage done. His touch seems so delicate, a contrast to his rugged disposition.
It is then you realize where the drops of wine have landed. The majority fell right against your chest; however, a few drops must have drifted further south, the wine forming small dots an inch above your nipple.
Your eyes widen at the realization as you feel his fingers gently slide towards the small dribbles and begin rubbing the material again.
You can't help but get goosebumps at the feeling. No one has ever touched you this way before.
You involuntarily drag in a quick breath, gasping at the sensation of his hands on you, holding you. He looks into your eyes and smiles when you do this, amused at your reaction.
You can feel your heartbeat quickening, and he can too. He presses his hands deeper into your skin, practically massaging your breast now. You close your eyes at the sensation, a fire sensation growing stronger in your abdomen. He leans closer to your ear.
"Ah, my lady. You're so... soft..." He whispers, beginning to nuzzle his scratchy beard into your neck.
You were angry when Sansa suggested you wear a deeper cut tunic. It was practically a dress, the ends flaring out and showcasing your body. The neckline was low, way lower than you'd hoped for. The only redeeming quality was the cerulean color that reminded you of the beautiful waters of your homeland.
You hated it at first, but now you are thankful, very thankful.
The soft scratching of his rough hair along with gentle kisses on your soft neck causes you to shiver, the cold chill obvious as he continues to massage your breast. His hand suddenly slips under the fabric of your dress, his fingers quickly finding your nipple. Caressing the sensitive bud, you arch your back into his touch in response. The aching feeling in your stomach grows as he moves his other hand lower. He nips your neck as the hand continues to move lower, and he eventually stops when his hand is right over your sex. It lingers for a few moments atop your dress, before he cups it completely. Despite the material of your tunic there, it feels as if no barrier is present at all. You gasp loudly at the sensation, his fingers adjusting to hold onto you and gently begin caressing the sensitivity. His fingers stroke right where your bundle of nerves is, and he immediately moves his mouth from administering kisses on your neck to your lips. Your moans are lessened but not silenced, the soft mewing of your cries still heard. The one hand leaves your breast to now cradle the back of your neck, supporting it while holding you close to him.
Your legs are shaking at the sensations he is giving you. Moving his palm forwards and backwards, his gentle ministrations are driving you crazy. Your body is almost limp, leaning into him almost as if under his command.
He breaks the kiss as he continues fondling you gently.
"Beauty... have you felt... this... before?" He coos, raising an eyebrow in shock.
You don't want him to stop touching you. You want this feeling to last forever. You shake your head no as your eyes begin to close again.
"Not even with yourself?"
You look into his face and see nothing but astonishment and awe.
"No... no I- mmmm... I haven't." You breathily moan, holding onto his arm for support.
"We should... stop doing this here, my lady." He whispers, still holding you to him, his arm now moving from your crotch to your waist.
"Why?" You practically pout, aggravated at the movement away from pleasure.
He once more leans closer towards your ear, his stubble grazing your neck, causing you to shiver.
"Because, my beauty, I don't want you getting fucked with an audience."
You gasp at his words, in complete shock, a deep blush overcoming you. Your chest deepens with the color as you readjust your neckline, embarrassed. Looking towards the great hall filled with people, you cross your arms over your chest, now self conscious.
Noticing your discomfort, he pulls you closer to him.
"I didn't mean to embarrass ya, beauty, I just didn't want your first time to be a quick rut in a hallway." He explains sympathetically, hands rubbing the jutting bones of your hips.
You can feel your eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you continue to look towards the ground.
"I want you... but you have to want me too." he whispers gently, now moving his hands to sweep his fingers in circles over the small of your back.
"I... I want you." You open your eyes to look at his, vulnerability there.
"Beauty, are you sure?" He asks, expression filled with uncertainty.
If you are sure of anything, it's this. The way he makes you feel. The way he will make you feel. This isn't carnal, it's a connection you've had. You are sure.
"Tormund... I want this."
At this, he immediately gives your waist a squeeze as he takes your right hand, leading you away from the wedding.
Torches light the dim corridors that are the rooms for guests, the gray color of the stones illuminated as he quickly leads you to a door near the end of the hallway.
He reaches a hand into his pocket and whips out a key, which he fumbles with, dropping it as he quickly tries to unlock the door.
You giggle as he picks up the brass key, taking his time now as he patiently opens his door. He leans the door open and you are immediately hit with a beautiful glow to the room, filled with his furs and pelts.
As you tilt your head to admire the room, you feel yourself being picked up. A strong pair of hands cradles your knees and back. He makes you feel as light as a feather. Walking easily over the threshold of the door, you feel at ease and giggle as he gently lays you down on the bed.
He turns to close the door, effectively locking it and strides towards you. Moving to sit beside you on the bed, you both sit sideways embracing each other as he begins placing gentle kisses on your forehead. As he busies himself with closing his eyes and administering little kisses, you move your hand to the bulge in his trousers. Carefully moving your hand, you place your fingers directly on it, massaging gently.
His eyes immediately shoot open at the rush of pleasure, and you can feel the hum of his approval on your cheek, his lips locked by your ear. Suddenly he turns you both so that you are on your back, legs wrapped around him as he hovers over you, wedged between your legs.
"I felt them..." He sensually whispers as he begins to unlace your dress, delicately pulling the string of your top bodice apart, "now let me see them." He raises his eyebrows as he quickly jerks the two pieces of material apart, the dress finally undone and flying open. Your breasts bounce gently free of their place in the dress, Tormund immediately sporting a hungry expression as he eyes your naked chest.
It is in this private space that you begin to feel self conscious, the lighting bright enough that he can see your every flaw, all of which men before had mocked. You suddenly remember every comment, every stab of their words and jeers that hurt you.
You uncomfortably move your arms over your chest, hands cupping over your nipples as you look away ashamedly.
His expression immediately changed from lust filled to confusion and care. He scoops his arms under you so that he is holding you closer to him, your face growing redder every second.
"What's wrong, beauty?" He whispers, voice wavering with concern.
"Please, don't call me that." You spit your words angrily, not at him, just at the world.
He tilts his head but keeps his gaze as he furrows his eyebrows in confusion still.
"Beauty? What would you like me to call you instead? All other names don't do you justi-"
"Please, don't lie to me. I know what I look like. I'm not a beauty." You exhale sharply, biting back the pain of years of teasing.
"Those cunts don't deserve to breathe..." He begins, breathing becoming erratic and his expression turning quickly to anger, "who told you that?" He practically threatens, wanting names.
"It would probably be easier to tell you who hasn't told me that."
At this his lips curl into a snarl and he creases his brows in fury.
"I'll kill every fuckin one of the daft cunts that didn't worship you... all those southern men want a weak damsel they can stick their dirty cock into... they don't want a real woman! They don't know what a real woman is! These cunts can't see how beautiful you are and it kills me! I swear I'll-"
"Tormund! Tormund! Calm down! It's alright!" You comfort, setting a hand on his now bulging bicep, pulsing in anger.
"I can't, beauty! I c-"
"It's alright, Tormund." You coo softly, trying to tame the beast you unknowingly released.
"It's not alright that these men made you feel anything but beautiful." He sweetly sulks.
At first you thought his admiration was purely animalistic, a ruse to get between your legs like all the other boys tried with fake compliments. He seems serious, genuinely upset with the remarks of the men he's never met that hurt you. Maybe he really thinks you're beautiful.
"I didn't mean to upset you, I just thought you had been joking this whole time about the 'beauty' nickname."
His expression turns to a look of sorrow at your words.
"Oh, beauty, I would never tease you like silly boys did. I'm a man of my word. You are as brilliant as any maester I've met, alluring as the sea. Your eyes are as bright as the sun and as deep as rivers, carrying me away in them. Your golden hair rivals the gods, your body, oh beauty, your neck is-"
"Alright, I think I understand, Tormund, thank you." You interrupt his speech with a gentle smile as you let go of your breasts to give his shoulders a squeeze.
"Oh, but you haven't even heard the best part." He praises as he litters your neck with kisses.
"Why don't you show me instead?" You taunt, pulling him closer to you and raising your hips to him nervously.
"Are you sure, beauty? And I will call you beauty, because yo-"
"Yes, I'm sure." You finish with a warm smile, pulling him to you and eliminating the space between your bodies.
He quickly pulls back and throws his shirt over his head before he hungrily continues attacking your neck, your nipples now grazing over his thick hair on his bare chest. You whimper as he tickles you there, sending shivers down your spine.
You reach between your bodies to find his erection once again, massaging it gently, causing him to release a series of grunts and moans. You press your palm against him with increasing pressure, and he moves his hands to cup the top of your ribcage around your chest, his thumbs now caressing your peaked nipples. He runs circles around them, switching his mouth to administer kisses between the two of them.
Gods, you'd never wished he had a second mouth until now.
He suddenly moves to line his erection with your center, his pants still on. Immediately, he begins grinding against you, long, heavy strokes as he still plays with your breasts. You are calling his name out along with heavy sighs, and he answers with your name. The rhythm is addicting, the feel of him through his clothes still sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You move to reclaim his lips as he continues his exploration.
His touch sends lighting through you as you call his name blindly, louder. You notice the absence of one hand eventually as he fumbles desperately under your dress.
You release a long held gasp as you feel the tips of his fingers brush your underclothes. His tickling spurs on the waves of goose bumps on your skin, chills reaching down your spine. He looks down at your one more time as he begins stroking the outside of the thick layer between him and you. You see him silently asking for your permission and you nod to give consent.
Taking your approval, he immediately smirks and begins untying the knot holding your underclothes together. Pulling them apart, he quickly slips his hand underneath the material, starting right below your naval. His fingers softly glide and trace patterns on your skin, creating a ticklish sensation as he sneaks farther down your body. Eventually reaching the thatch of blonde hair, he growls as he snakes his fingers in it. Gasping, already on the brink of losing it to pleasure, your fingernails claw onto his shoulders leaving angry red traces on his skin.
He groans in both pain and pleasure at your doing, and brings his hand lower in revenge to caress the inside of your thighs, centimeters from your throbbing sex. You pant desperately as he places his gentle touch almost at the point where you need him most, and you try to rub your body against him.
"You want me to touch you there, beauty?" He arrogantly questions, feigning innocence as the sweat drips from your pores and you nod, eyes heavy with lust.
"Tell me, beauty, what would you like me to do?" He cockily asks, hand frozen above your clitoris, hovering just centimeters from where you need him.
"Tormund, please..." you plead, your chest heaving desperately up and down.
"Please what?"
"Please... just touch me, please... I want yo- I need you." You pant, desperate for him.
He cockily raises his eyebrow but feel his hand reach down to caress you. You close your eyes with a hum of pleasure as he applies light but persistent pressure to your clitoris, gently massaging you. You instinctively buck into his hand as the strong feeling of pleasure centers right in your abdomen and travels lower.
You once again open your eyes and whimper as one of his fingers begins to trace a circle around your entrance, teasing you.
Your panting becomes loud, a series of deep inhales and moaning as he plays with the evidence of your arousal, bringing the finger up to his mouth and burying it in his mouth, sucking it clean with a popping sound. He did all of that with direct eye contact, and you shiver.
"Gods, woman, you taste fucking amazing... I need more." He whispers, pushing your dress up and over your head, completely exposing yourself except for your half off underclothes, just the small pair of shorts under your dress, not exactly a resistance. He takes the dress and throws it over to the side of the room before he grabs the top sides of your shorts and aggressively rips them down. They fly off your feet and the chill of night air reaches your nether regions. You quickly turn your legs over to the side, closing them from him in your shyness, cheeks turning crimson once more.
"Didn't mean to scare ya, beauty." He assures, a smile on his face as he places his strong hands on your thighs, rubbing them in comfort.
"I'm not scared I'm just... I feel very... vulnerable right now." You state, heartbeat increasing.
You felt vulnerable without your armor on at all times, both physical and emotion armor. Now, completely bare before anyone, no armor or clothes to be found, it's intimidating.
His expression changes as you see a thought come to him, and he removes his hands in order to jerk his pants down.
He wasn't wearing underclothes.
He holds his arms out to his sides, making a face that is a mix of pride and comfort. He obviously is trying to make you feel better, but why is that his solution?
You release a small scream/giggle and turn your head away in embarrassment as he climbs back over to you, grabbing your thighs again and shaking them.
"See, now I'm vulnerable." He soothes, stroking the outside of your legs as you turn back to look at him in admiration.
He just wants to make you comfortable.
An odd gesture, yes, but a heartfelt one.
"No reason to be nervous, my lady, it's nothing I haven't felt and explored anyways. I already know what you feel like, and I intend to learn a bit more now if you'd like?"
"So when do I get to learn more about..." you look down at his nether regions with raised eyebrows, "... you?" You tease.
"Oh, there's time for that, but this is about you, my beauty." He quips, coaxing your legs slowly apart by placing gentle kisses along your legs. He worships your body, starting at your ankles as he works his way higher, hands curled around your legs as he plants kisses along them. You shiver when his beard scratches the inside of your knee, finally feeling comfortable enough to rest your legs open to him. Putting both of his hands on your knees to bend them open more for him to explore, he licks his lips at the sight of you. Although you're too afraid to look down and see what you look like, you know just about how ready you are for him. He places gentle kisses along your inner thighs, dragging his tongue along to tease you.
Your jaw slackens when he finally places a gentle kiss to that sensitive nub. Closing your eyes, you release an extremely loud groan, surprising yourself and smacking your hand over your mouth in embarrassment.
Tormund immediately begins laughing, and the hum of his voice on your clit sends you into a frenzy and you grab his fiery hair in response, pulling the thick strands between your fingers. You don't want him to stop. Ever. And gods, he doesn't seem to want to quit anytime soon either.
He enthusiastically laps at your vagina, lustfully savoring every drop that you gladly give him.
You feel as if you are on fire, your whole body shaking, sweating. You've never had such an intense pleasure. It begins from your abdomen and vagina, but courses through your blood, filling you with total warmth.
He suddenly picks up his head to look at you, head thrown back in pleasure, a tight grip in his red locks.
"Beauty... you taste heavenly." He smirks devilishly as he returns to his previous activity, this time attacking your clit with a higher intensity.
This sends your body into a new bloom of pleasure, your legs beginning to shake aggressively, panting and breathing ragged. You turn your head to the side and whimper desperately, calling his name in a hungry benediction. His grip tightens on your thighs as he brings you to the edge of pleasure. Your breathing quickens and you feel a tightness in your abdomen, a quick and needy throbbing. Whatever feeling is building inside you is peaking quickly, too quickly.
"Tor-Tormund... What's happening?" You desperately pant, tossing your head relentlessly side to side, hands clenching the sheets in rhythm to his movements.
"Let yourself feel it, beauty. Let go." He hums, eyes seeking yours.
You stop fighting the growing urge happening, and bring your head up to look to him. The tension in your body tightens to an almost painful point, and you can feel your breathing halt. Suddenly, the pressure releases.
You feel your body falling into pleasure, your muscles tightening and relaxing to He rhythm he sets. Your vaginal muscles clench with pleasure and release. You release a series of "oh's" as you feel your body completely release to Tormund.
After a few seconds, the feeling finally subsides, leaving you in a heap beneath him. He continues administering his licking as he collects the last bits of pleasure from you, your body still sensitive as you writhe beneath him. You are left heavily panting as your eyes flutter open and closed from your pleasure.
You feel him leave your sex as he climbs up to cradle you in his arms, holding your body close to him.
Just as you think you have relaxed, his hand sneaks lower and traces circles your thigh and pelvis once more, causing you to release a strong whimper and call his name. You feel his hand snake past your hip and lower to your sensitive nub again. You buck in his arms as he dips his hand to completely clamp around you. He traces the wet opening of you as he dips a finger inside, testing how you approach this new feeling.
You melt instantly into his hold, long neck leaning back and exposed to him as your muscles relax. Releasing breathy moans, you arch back into his touch as he pushes the digit in further. There's a level of discomfort that is eased by him massaging your clit, but the pleasure dissipates when he adds another finger.
You immediately tense up and release a whimper of soreness as he tries to massage the uneasiness away.
"Relax, beauty, it will feel better if you relax." He coos, choosing to attack your neck with sensual, deep kisses.
You moan as you feel your body open up to him in response to his motions, and he swirls the two fingers, opening you up to him. This continues for a few minutes before he removes his fingers and holds them up to you. They shine in the light, slick from your lust. Again, he licks them seductively as he turns you on your back and moves to straddle you.
"You still want me, beauty?" He asks, tone serious.
"Yes, Tormund." You reply, voice certain.
He then moves to hover above your body, obviously straining from taking you right now. You can tell he will be new to this kind of sex, more of a joining of bodies than a hungry go at it like he does.
He takes his time kissing up your body as he snakes his arms under your back to hold you closer to him. As he aligns his body to t the entrance, you can see him shake as he reigns in his self control. I'm all honesty you're shaking as well, and he takes note of this as he presses a gentle kiss to your damp forehead, strands of straw hair clinging to the wet surface.
You can feel the tip of his erection nudge at your lips, slick and prepared.
"This might hurt, beauty, but give the word and I'll wait." He whispers, coating the tip of his cock before gently pushing into you. He is barely inside of you when you feel a fullness. The fingers did not even compare to the feeling of him, the hard, velvety flesh pushing deep into where you haven't felt before.
You release a gasp, half pained and half pleasure, as he stops his motion completely, waiting to gage your reaction before continuing.
You nod your head for him to resume, and once again scratch his shoulders as you try to distract yourself from the discomfort. You cry out in pain and he stops once again, but you shake your head.
"Tormund please go! Just go! It hurts!" You plead, holding him close and attempting not to scurry away from underneath him.
"Beauty, I'm not even halfway in." He states innocently, eyes wide in fear.
Gods, of course your first time is with the biggest man in probably all of Westeros. How are you going to get through this? This is impossible, he's barely fitting now.
"Here, if you arch like this..." he grabs your behind and angles it more towards him as he lifts your back completely up. The change in position stings, and you can feel yourself getting more uncomfortable.
You decide to do something you never would have imagined.
As he distracts himself trying to direct your body, you throw your hips upward on him, his erection having no choice but to go further inside you. You grunt in pain as you feel a barrier release, a soft pulling and release of tension. It feels as if you tore a muscle while sparring, just a quick stab of pain and then it begins throbbing; however, this throbbing soon diminishes completely, your body adjusting to him and taking him fully. You feel a rush of liquid that begins to leak from where you are joined and reach down your hand to touch the mysterious liquid.
A maroon stickiness that can only be your maidens blood trickles down the up of your finger and begins to dribble down your left thigh and drop onto the sheets of his bed. His eyes grow wide with fear and shock as he looks at the blood and then up towards your relieved face.
You smile at him and then bring his head to yours, embracing him and planting deep kisses to his lips.
He then once again plunged into you, this time all the way to the hilt. You moan loudly at the feeling of fullness, your body stretching to accommodate his. His hips begin to create a rhythm once again as his gentle pushes begin to grow into hungry thrusts, completely hitting every spot of you.
You watch as his forehead is dripping with sweat, his body exuding every bit of effort to get you to surrender to him. You can feel that coil tightening in your abdomen again, and you know you're close.
"Tor- Tormund! I'm alm- almost... there!" You pant, your breath hitching as he thrusts in and out of you, your body moving with his. Your moans become louder, your body more sensitive. He moves a hand to once again caress your nipple and you throw your head back in pleasure, milky white neck exposed to him as he calls your name.
"Brienne, my beauty, look at me when you come." He whispers, voice desperate and pleading as you bring your face back to look at him. He moves his hand from your breast to your clit, massaging it gently and you completely lose it.
You close your eyes at first but then quickly open them, remembering Tormund's request. Your mouth falls open in shock as a strong wave of pleasure is immediately crashing over your vagina. You call out his name as he continues thrusting, your body shaking completely and weighing beneath him. He holds you in his arms as you ride through the many waves of pleasure, never really stopping. As your high begins to subside, you feel Tormund begin to shudder above you and he calls y'all ur name out in a desperate cry. He shuts his eyes as his body finishes within you, and then he falls down beside you, completely spent.
He somehow manages to pull you to him, body completely engulfed in his. You've never felt small, but here you are, no match to the large man holding you. For a few minutes, the only noise in the room is your joined panting, and then once you catch your breath, complete silence. The silence is broken as Tormund releases a laugh.
"What's so funny?" You question, hand now tracing star patterns on his hairy chest.
"I knew you would like weddings." He sighs, showing a cocky grin as he holds you tight.
"I told you, I like weddings!"
"Well, you might like them, but this must be your new favorite." He teases, flashing that toothy grin again.
"Mmmmm we'll see. It's not over yet!"
"Oh... it's definitely not over yet!" He shouts as he straddles you once again, sucking your neck, causing you to release a giggle and soft scream as you playfully hit his chest.
He's right. It's definitely not over. This isn't the last time you'll make love tonight, and it certainly is your favorite wedding.
