#I hope everyone had a better easter then I did 💖

[joes-sha-la-la-la-girl]

The obligation to see family on a holiday when all they are is rude and obnoxious is ridiculous. Apparently none of my medical conditions are real and despite me having scoliosis, I have no idea what ‘proper back pain’ is 😭😭

[promptthebear]

I'm so excited to read your easter askbox game 💞 no pressure but could I please request🐰4, with Tyrion Lannister? 😉 Also, you are one of my absolute favourite game of thrones writers, I hope you are feeling better! 💖 😄

Hello! This is v late, but hopefully you enjoy it all the same! Thank you so much for your kind words, you've got me blushing honestly! I'm doing much better now, and ended up being able to go see my family around the end of April to have a "Easter" dinner of sorts, and I'm supposed to see them again this weekend!

Easter Askbox Event 2023- Tyrion Lannister x Reader

Prompt: “Let’s just kiss and see where it takes us.”

TW: Mentions of drinking/drunkeness, a little bit of dub con between some of the characters, reader!character is tricked into kissing someone, some canon typical misogyny. 2nd person, reader referred to as "you", fem!reader. If I miss anything let me know!

A/N: This is set somewhere in the third book, but like if you squint. Idk, it's a bonfire party and I just wanted everyone to be there, once again I don't give a fuck about canon.

Drinking had been Tyrion’s idea. The game had been Jamie’s.

“It’s simple” he said, with a wide grin “You spin the bottle, and whoever the spout end points to either has to kiss you, tell you a secret or accompany you to that corpse of trees over there. The choice is yours to make. If they forfeit your decision, then you both take a drink.”

You regarded the knight uncertainly, not trusting the glint in his eye or the knowing glance he exchanged with Tyrion. When the two of them were scheming, somehow you always ended up being the one in trouble.

“It’s an amusing enough diversion” Cersi’s tones were as cool and elegant as always despite the bottle and a half of white wine you’d watched her consume moments before. “Unless anyone wishes to protest?”

This was directed at you, with a gaze so sharp you could almost feel it cut against your cheek. You gulped, and took a small sip of your watered down ale before shaking your head. Those around you did the same, regardless of their true thoughts on the matter. An evening of mild discomfort or embarrassment was nothing against the wrath of the Queen.

Since the whole thing was Jamie’s suggestion, he went first. He spun the bottle with an easy sort of confidence, as though he couldn’t give a shit where it ended up. The way the firelight cast shadows upon his skin made your breath catch in your throat. As one of Cersi’s ladies, you only knew the man in passing, but there was no denying he was handsome. A kiss from him would make you the envy of many maidens across the kingdom, provided that was all he wanted. While members of the kingsguard swore vows prohibiting them to father children, Jamie also never really struck you as the type to be mindful of any rules but his own.

A series of hoots and jeers went around the circle when the bottle’s smooth arc finally reached it’s end…pointing at none other than Brienne of Tarth. The maid blushed crimson, her wide scowl doing few favours for her already homely face. Jamie seemed to smile even wider just to spite her, pushing himself to his knees so he could lean across the circle to reach her.

“Well, my fair lady” he proclaimed, clearly taking some joy from Brienne’s obvious discomfort “I shall give you a kiss, for it is like to be the only one you’ll ever have!”

Brienne seemed as though she was going to protest, but Jamie was too quick. Before she could react, Jamie had grabbed hold of the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to meet his. Brienne wriggled free in seconds, redder than before and clearly furious. She lashed blindly out at Jamie, the flat of her palm making contact with his chest in a shove that knocked him back on his ass. The knight roared with laughter, head thrown back and chest heaving. The crowd around you did the same, happy not to be the butt of the joke.

“Fool!” Brienne managed to sputter out, before rising to her feet and turning to leave. She stormed off without a glance back, most likely too embarrassed to even consider it. You made to follow her, knowing Jamie had been much too cruel to the poor girl, but another glare from Cersi kept you seated on the grass.

As the evening went on and the moon rose, kisses and bawdy comments began to flow as freely amongst the group as the wine. The bottle had landed on you more than once, though those on its receiving end had not asked much of you. Sansa Stark had blushed prettily when you’d kissed her on the forehead, though more likely from the stout red Tyrion had poured her rather than anything else.

Bronn of Blackwater had also asked for a kiss, and then turned his head at the last second so you caught his mouth instead of his cheek as you had planned. He’d been much rougher with you than you’d liked, biting at your lips and forcing them open with his tongue before you managed to get free of him. Those spectating seemed to love this as much as they had Brienne’s torment, cheering for Bronn and admonishing you when you’d slapped him for his insolence.

“Well, now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings” the sellsword said, though his broad grin seemed to suggest he wasn’t hurt in the least. You were grateful when a maid with Tully hair and brazen eyes asked him to accompany her into the woods. Based on the way they’d been looking at each other, they were not like to return any time soon, which at least saved you from being paired off with Bronn again.

When Oberyn Martell’s turn came around, you found yourself staring at him down the bottle’s end. Immediately, your heart went to your throat and you held your cup in a white knuckled grip, the forfeit waiting on your tongue no matter his request. It was not that you feared the man, so much as the rumours of his prowess. A thousand lifetimes of lovers would not have prepared you for even an hour in his company.

“Tell us a secret, pretty one.”

He, and the woman tucked beneath his arm, stared at you with matching pairs of dark, shining eyes. They were almost snakelike in appearance, which may have been why the couple had such a hypnotic effect on you. Your mouth seemed to open of its own accord, divulging something you swore you would tell no other but your future husband.

“I’m still a maiden.”

A wave of quiet, yet excited whispers, rose and fell amongst the group like the soft hush of wind through leaves. Until now, you had not been worthy of any special attention. You were nothing more to these people than the Queen’s pet, a lady from a minor house who got lucky enough to curry her Majesty’s favour this week. Your confession, however, had changed all that. You were now a conquest, something to be sought after and coveted simply because you had yet to be spoiled by anyone else.

You felt your cheeks grow hot, and you ducked your head down, trying to hide from the hungry eyes that watched you with much anticipation. You knew that it would not be long before someone tried to steal you away into the woods, whether you wanted to go with them or not.

Thankfully, Jamie’s next turn drew some of the focus away from you. The knight had given and taken his fair share of kisses throughout the evening, and each one had provided plenty of amusement for the increasingly drunken crowd. You could almost feel the group holding its breath as the bottle spun in the dirt, nearly writhing in anticipation at the possibilities to come.

Much to everyone’s shock and delight, the bottle’s tip finally came to rest in front of Tyrion. The small man immediately reached for his goblet, expecting a forfeit when Jamie suddenly raised his hand.

“Come now, my dear brother, it would be a poor evening for everyone if you were denied a bit of sport. Save your wine, for I have other designs in mind for you.”

“Surely you do not wish to take me into the woods, Jamie?”

Tyrion’s voice was sardonic as ever, prompting the crowd to erupt in gales of laughter. You felt a small smile playing about your lips, which you hid by taking another sip of your drink. You had always found Tyrion to be a source of mirth, though now that he was married, you didn’t think it would be proper to openly laugh at his gybes any longer.

“Unfortunately not, darling Tyrion, you are far too handsome for my tastes. However, since you have yet to capture the maidenhead of your young wife, perhaps you will have better luck with this sweet girl here.”

Before you could protest, rough hands were grabbing at your dress, hauling you ungracefully to your feet and shoving you in Tyrion’s general direction. For a moment, you were reminded of the bedding at Cersi’s wedding, and at the thought of what followed, you felt bile began to rise in your throat.

“Jamie, you’re taking things too far!”

If anyone was of like mind with Tyrion, they kept it to themselves. The two of you were half pushed, half drug from the circle of party-goers and sent towards the trees. Now ousted from the glow of the firelight, your eyes struggled to pierce the gloom ahead. You lurched slightly forward, trying your best to escape the hooting and ribald calls that followed, when the toe of your shoe caught a small divot in the path. You stumbled, reaching out to break your fall, only to be stopped by a pair of stout hands that caught your waist.

You glanced over your shoulder, and were met with a pair of mismatched eyes that seemed to almost gleam in the flicker of the distant flames.

“Are you alright, sweetling?”

There was nothing but concern in Tyrion’s voice, and yet the pet name made you blush.

“I am fine, my lord, thanks to your quick thinking.”

Tyrion smiled, and you felt your heart skip a beat. He’d been part of your life in some way or another since you’d started working for Cersi, but your contact with him had been nothing more than the expected politeness between an employer and servant. You’d never been close to him, not like this.

The sound of someone shouting his name made Tyrion release you from his grasp and turn back towards the fire. Immediately, the smile he’d given you fell and was replaced by a disapproving scowl. It was difficult to say for certain among the drunken racket, but Jamie seemed to be the one calling for his brother. Whatever he said and whatever lewd gestures accompanied it only seemed to garner further disgust from Tyrion, who let out a derisive snort and jerked his head back in your direction.

“Idiots, all of them.” he held his hand out to you, palm up “Come. We won’t know peace until we leave their sight, at least for a little while.”

The walk to the woods was silent, and more than a little tense. You clung to Tyrion’s hand, the warmth of his skin pressing against yours doing nothing to calm your fluttering heart and shaky breaths. Eventually, you came to a small clearing, which was ringed with tall birch trees and dappled in silvery moonlight that played amongst their leaves. From here, the fire was only a faint glimmer in the distance, the voices of the party members lost among the other night sounds. It would have been almost peaceful, until you remembered why you’d been brought here in the first place.

“I beg you, do not dishonour me, my lord.”

The words slipped from your lips before you really knew what you were saying. Immediately, your cheeks began to burn with a combination of shame and guilt. How could you have been so stupid? Tyrion had been nothing but kind to you ever since you’d met him, and yet here you were, behaving as though the rumours about him were true.

Thankfully, however, Tyrion did not seem the least bit bothered by your comment. Instead, he let forth a soft chuckle and released your hand. You watched him walk over to a patch of grass at the centre of the trees and lie down with his back beneath him. When you didn’t follow, he turned his head to face you, and patted the empty space next to him.

“I will not harm you, darling. All I want is some pleasant company, for a short while at least. There is so little of it in my life.”

You did as he asked, and went to lay beside him. The grass was cool and refreshing beneath you, a welcome distraction from the heat of Tyrion’s body so very close to yours. In spite of his reassurance, you could still feel the bundle of nerves twisting away inside your gut. Everything you had been taught told you this was wrong.

You were a lady, you had no business being alone, in the dark with a man who was married to someone else. Anyone else in your stead would have run off if only for the sake of her reputation, and yet, here you were. Perhaps this thing that writhed and wriggled in the pit of your stomach wasn’t fear…but rather excitement. But excitement for what? Tyrion already said he had no intentions of touching you…even if you found yourself wanting him to.

A glance at the sky above finally pulled you free from your swirling thoughts. It was a warm, clear night, with nary a cloud to hide the moon or the stars. And what stars they were. It seemed as though each constellation was on display, especially for you. You stared in awe, mesmerized by the way they seemed to dance and shimmer against a blue velvet sky.

“Beautiful.”

You turned your head to the side, preparing to agree with Tyrion, when you realized he was looking at you instead of upwards. You tried to remember the last time anyone had given you a compliment like that, and fell short. The only time anyone spoke to you in such a fashion was because they either wanted something, or they were teasing. The way Tyrion said it, however, made you almost believe he meant it.

“Thank you my lord, but I am not worthy of your praise. If you’ll pardon my saying so, it is really Lady Sansa who should-”

“She doesn’t want to hear that from me.”

The hard edge that crept into his voice made your eyebrows jump upwards.

“So, all of Ser Jamie’s talk?”

Tyrion sighed, then grasped the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as though the conversation was paining him.

“I’m sorry to say my beloved brother was telling the truth, for once. Sansa had no desire to be my wife any more than I did to be her husband, and yet that didn’t seem to matter the least bit to anyone when we were wed. The poor girl has made it clear she does not want me to touch her, and I’ve respected her wishes. In fact, we both agreed that it was probably better for the other if each of us took a lover and remained married in title only. I do believe she’s had more luck than I have in that aspect, actually. Young Pod seems very keen on-”

He stopped, suddenly, as though he remembered he was divulging all this to little better than a stranger. You turned onto your side, trying to see Tyrion properly before you reached for him in the almost darkness. He watched, motionless, as you brought a hand up and stroked his cheek. His beard was softer than you expected beneath your fingers, given its untamed appearance.

“Tyrion…if I…that is to say we…”

Try as you might, you couldn’t keep your voice from trembling slightly. You hoped Tyrion understood, even though you were making a mess of things. You couldn’t make the world kinder, or make him taller or undo his Mummer’s farce of a marriage. You weren’t Sansa Stark, beautiful, highborn Sansa Stark who refused to see what a gift she’d been given. But perhaps offering yourself in her stead would be enough.

Thankfully, Tyrion seemed to know what you were getting at. He gently took hold of your hand that had cradled his cheek and pressed his lips against your palm. You gasped, softly, amazed at just how much reverence could be put into one kiss, as though he had been waiting to do it for ages. He continued to trail his mouth down the inside of your wrist, pausing between each kiss as though waiting for you to protest.

When no protest came, he tugged you closer, until your foreheads were almost touching. You could smell the wine on his breath, though that wasn’t why you were feeling drunk.

“If you don’t want this, tell me no, before I break my own heart.”

You swallowed, hard. No was the last thing you ever would’ve said, but you weren’t entirely certain you were ready for yes, either. What you wanted and what your body could handle in the course of one night were unfortunately two very different things.

“I want this. I want you only…”

You ducked your head, cheeks burning, and tried to hide from that piercing gaze. He’d been there when you’d confessed to your innocence, and yet you wished, not for the first time, that you had more to offer him. But the words wouldn’t come. Your heart had leapt into your throat and was holding your tongue for ransom and making you look more the fool with each passing moment.

“Sweetling, look at me.”

You did as you were asked, though it was agonizing to finally bring your eyes to meet his. When you did, you all but melted. The expression on Tyrion’s face was one you had never seen before, though it suited him very well. He looked…softer, and happier than he usually did. You realized that from here on, you’d do anything he asked if only he kept looking at you like that.

“Let’s just kiss and see where it takes us.”