Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Three

Gregor Clegane X Lannister!Reader - Pull Yourself Together

A/N - This chapter is based on the song 'Gaston' from The Beauty and the Beast (1991). I hope you all enjoy it.

"What's got you in such a mood this evening?" you uttered, slipping into the seat beside Gregor and pulling his drink away to take a sip. It was a brave move, really. Or at least, it would've been if you had been anyone other than yourself. But it had become clear from very early on that Gregor had a soft spot for you that no one else had ever been able to understand. "Come on," you pressed when he raised an eyebrow at you. "Tell me what's got you so down in the dumps."

He sighed as he leant back in his chair, the sound of the wood straining breaking his silence. "Apparently, Oberyn Martell is coming to the Capital." 

"Oh," you breathed out, your hand coming to rest on his arm as you turned to face him. "You can't let him get to you-"

"He's going around telling people that I murdered his sister, Y/N. People already think I'm some-"

"But we know that isn't true, don't we?" you told him, letting out a soft breath. "Gregor, there isn't a man in King's Landing who wouldn't want to be you, even when Oberyn is running around spreading rumours." 

He snorted slightly, finally relaxing and letting his arm shift to rest around your shoulders. "That's only because they all think I'm bedding you," he teased, watching as you glanced up at him with wide eyes. "What sane man wouldn't be envious of that?"

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. "I was thinking more because you're possibly the largest, strongest man any of them have ever seen," you corrected softly, your head tilting to the side. "I mean, there isn't a single part of you that isn't covered in muscle."

"No, it's definitely the bit where they think you let me do horrifically dishonourable things to you every night," he chuckled, watching you shake your head in frustration. "Even if they're all wrong about it." 

You hummed. "And I'm sure you always correct them when they ask you about it," you uttered, watching him smirk slightly. 

"I've never confirmed it; not my fault they all assume I'm just playing coy to protect your dignity." He paused for a moment. "I'm just lucky that your father doesn't think it's true; doubt I'd still have a job if he did."

A soft snort of laughter slipped out of you. "He wouldn't take your job away," you corrected, shaking your head slightly. "He'd make you marry me if he thought you'd been sharing my bed. And then what kind of father would he be if he took his own son-by-law's job away, huh?" 

Gregor hummed at your comment, nodding slightly. "I can imagine you being my pretty little wife," he started, a smirk pulling at his lips. "You already take such good care of me-"

"Quit teasing," you murmured, shuffling in your seat as Gregor pulled you closer.

"Come on," he uttered, leaning down so that his mouth was close to your ear, his voice dropping so low that it left you a little flustered. "You're trying to tell me you've never even thought about what life would be like if we just settled down and started a life together?"

You swatted at his leg. "Gregor," you bit out. "Stop messing with me."

"Who says I'm messing?" Your brow furrowed at his question, trying to make sense of it. "Would it really be so bad, being my wife?" 

You shook your head. "I doubt there's anyone I would rather have as a husband," you hummed, your stomach tying itself in knots so tight that you could feel a wave of sickness attempting to overcome you. "But-"

"No 'buts'," Gregor interrupted, taking your hand in his and drawing it up to his mouth, placing a kiss to the skin of your palm. "Just say you'll marry me and leave it at that." 

"Gregor," you murmured, shifting away from him to look up into his face. "The moment we confirmed an engagement, everyone will assume that the rumours are true. People will take it as a confirmation that you've been bedding me for the last God-knows how long, and I'll be the butt of all of the jokes-"

"I wouldn't let them make jokes," he interrupted again, his brow furrowed as he looked down at you, so concentrated on your answer that it seemed he'd forgotten to think about anything else. 

You linked your fingers through his, squeezing his hand lightly. "I know you wouldn't, Sweetness, but you aren't always going to be there to stop them."

"Then I can keep you at my side, and they'll never say a word." 

A soft sigh slipped out of you, a frown pulling at your lips. "Give me some time," you hummed. "Let me think on it for a little while." 

He nodded, his hand still holding yours. "I'm in love with you," he finally confessed. "Have been since you first walked into the Throne Room with your father, looking like some sort of angel." 

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, attempting to hold back the sheer wave of excitement those words brought with them. You remembered that day better than any other, with no friends in the Capital, you'd been following your father around like a lost puppy, and he had been growing tired of your company. And then, he'd handed you off to Gregor and told him to find some way to entertain you until he was done with his meetings. From that day on, you'd been hopelessly in love with your best friend, and now, here he was confessing the same. 

"I'll marry you," you finally started, watching as Gregor's entire face lit up. "But, only if you ask properly. You go to my father, and you ask for my hand, and we do everything like we're supposed to."

"And if he says no?" 

You shrugged. "He won't. I won't let him." 

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