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#tywin lannister fanfiction
rax-writes · 8 months
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↬ when night falls
Tywin Lannister x Reader
intended to be a sequel to the morning after, but it's not necessary that you read it prior to this
Warnings: Smut, MDNI, 18+ ONLY ⇆ P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap, nipple play, bit of breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, pregnant!reader
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The journey from Winterfell to King's Landing took considerably longer than necessary, given the Queen's insistence that she travel in that godsforsaken carriage of hers. As such, five weeks after your marriage to Tywin Lannister, you were spending one final night in a lavish red and gold tent alongside your lord husband.
For the entirety of the journey, the two of you spent the entire day apart – your horse trotting behind your father and King Robert, and Tywin a short distance behind, alongside Ser Jamie. Occasionally, Arya would pester you into allowing her to sit in front of you on the saddle, as you quietly conversed with her and taught her how to control the horse. But, aside from that, you were alone with your thoughts all day, every day.
The nights, however, were spent in the arms of your lord husband.
The two of you quite quickly developed a very… peculiar dynamic. You had quickly learned and adapted to the way the fearsome Tywin Lannister operates – preferring you speak concisely and directly, vehemently uninterested in anything otherwise. Additionally, there was a degree of mutual respect, as well as a vaguely guarded openness to one another – but certainly no love, or any semblance of romantic feelings at all. In truth, you assumed there never would be.
But gods was there lust.
On your end, it was your first and only experience with sex, and it was undeniably good, so you were eager for it. On his end… you couldn't be sure. It could be that the man was pent up from years as a bachelor, but it would be safe to assume he had simply sent for a whore when the mood struck him. A more likely reason would be his pursuit of an heir, but surely he wouldn't have needed to fill your cunt nightly to achieve that goal. No, you were almost certain that he was simply enjoying fucking you – just as much as you were enjoying fucking him.
When Tywin entered the tent, you were sitting on the edge of the cot, toying with the goblet in your hands, already undressed to your shift. He met your eyes as he entered, but said nothing, that unreadable (but somehow always leaning toward annoyed) expression on his face. He silently began taking off his boots, then removed his sword and placed it beside the cot. He was in the middle of pouring wine into his goblet when you found the courage to ask your question.
"Will you stop bedding me when I become pregnant?"
Tywin said nothing, setting the pitcher down and turning to face you as he took a sip of his wine. He wore that calm, calculating expression as he stared at you – but you could swear there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. The golden goblet made a faint clank as he set it down before speaking.
"Do you ask because you wish for me to stop? Or because you wish for me to continue?"
"I wish for you to continue."
"Then I shall continue," Tywin stated, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Good," you replied, then added, "Because I am."
"You are what?"
"Pregnant."
The smile dropped and Tywin's eyebrows raised, making his forehead crinkle.
"Already?" he inquired dryly, surprised. Then, incredulous, he asked, "How do you know?"
It was a fair question. You had never been pregnant before, so perhaps you were mistaking soreness and fatigue from travel as signs of pregnancy. But no. You knew.
"I should have bled three weeks ago, but I have not. My breasts are extremely tender, and certain smells make my stomach turn."
Tywin nodded, then stated, "I do not doubt that you are right, but we will have a Maester provide his confirmation and look you over when we arrive in King's Landing. In the meantime, is there anything you need?"
A faint but wicked smile spread across your face, and you stood from the bed, setting the goblet down as you slowly made your way over to him. The metal of his armor was cold beneath your fingers as you idly ran your hands over his chest, before toying with the belt around his hips, looking up at him through your lashes.
"You," was your simple answer. But both of you knew that it wasn't meant in a romantic, sweet sort of way.
Tywin's hand reached up to cradle your face, somewhat harshly, hooking his thumb under your jaw to tilt your head up and kiss you. It was lustful and full of desire, accompanied by the scratch of his beard upon the delicate skin of your face.
When he pulled away, Tywin smiled quite faintly, then hummed lowly and said, "Well, what sort of man would I be to deny his pregnant lady wife her wish?"
The old lion made quick work of removing his armor and smallclothes, and relieving you of the thin linen shift you wore, before guiding you to the luxurious cot. Tywin continued to kiss you, eventually trailing kisses down your neck, until he reached your chest, unexpectedly taking one of your breasts into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.
The sensation nearly made you shout, opting to take in a sharp breath instead as your back arched off the blankets. Eyes squeezed shut, you heard a low chuckle, and looked down to see a set of very amused, crystalline eyes staring up at you.
"Hm, I see you were not exaggerating about the sensitivity."
Electing to ignore him, you let your head fall back onto the pillow. However, it seemed he did not intend to grant you any reprieve, moving to the other breast and doing the same thing – prompting you to dig your nails into his shoulders and bite your lip to avoid crying out. Unfortunately, that made matters worse, as Tywin let out a low groan with his lips still wrapped around your nipple, earning a loud, pitiful whine from you.
Seemingly enjoying himself, Tywin began peppering your chest with gentle bites, which he soothed with his tongue afterwards, sure to become small little bruises by morning. Breathy moans and sighs of pleasure filled the tent, as he then resumed his ministrations on the hardened peaks of your breasts before snaking one hand down to toy with your clit, expertly rubbing it in small, steady circles. Astoundingly fast, your release washed over you, soaking his hand as you moaned and writhed beneath the Warden of the West – who only chuckled darkly at your quick climax.
Noticing that the continued kisses and licks upon your breasts began to make you twitch, Tywin captured your lips in a brief, rough kiss, before rolling onto his back. He then pulled you into his lap, with a strength one wouldn’t assume the older man to still possess – which was, admittedly, arousing. Your mind was still foggy from the orgasm, and your movements were not unlike a rag doll, eyes half-lidded and jaw slack, moving somewhat limply as you allowed him to maneuver you. He gripped his hard, leaking cock in one hand, then reached behind you to urge you forward with a flat palm on the small of your back.
A hiss through gritted teeth escaped Tywin, and you gasped lightly, head thrown back and hands flat on his chest. Although you’d already lost count of how many times he’d taken you, it still felt more incredible than anything you’d ever experienced. A passing thought reminded you of the fact that he seemed to share the sentiment, always hissing or groaning when he first sheathed himself inside you.
Tywin’s grip moved to your hips, prompting you to begin rocking them against his own, keeping your pace steady. However, he made no move to halt you when you eventually began to move faster, leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs as you fucked yourself on his long, thick cock. The sound of it alone would have made a Septa drop dead – a symphony composed of wet skin upon skin and gruff grunts intermingling with breathy moans.
He reached up to grasp and knead your breasts in his rough, calloused hands – but he then surprised you, his hands drifting lower, until they rested flat against your lower stomach. You thought perhaps he was focusing on the movement of your hips, but then his thumbs began to stroke across the soft skin of your belly.
At first, it seemed very sweet and sentimental. You thought that perhaps he was basking in the joy of another child being on the way – until you felt the way his cock throbbed, deep inside of you, as he stared intently at your belly. Immediately, you came to the realization that it must be arousing for a man to have successfully fucked a babe into his wife – stroking their ego and their pride to have done their husbandly duty, as well as show everyone that you belong to them.
Truth be told, you were surprised to learn that it aroused you just as much.
Tywin groaned as you clenched around him, and when his eyes flicked up to meet yours, it felt as though he knew you had been thinking the very same thing he was.
That seemed to ignite something within your husband, and in the blink of an eye, Tywin flipped you onto your back and began driving into your soaked cunt with a newfound ferocity. You bit down on your knuckle to keep quiet, but Tywin pinned both of your wrists down, his arms on either side of your head. The act did not last much longer beyond that point, both parties having already been too near the precipice of climax, and the pair of you met your releases in unison.
Tywin rolled off of you, breathing heavily, a light layer of sweat covering his chest, along with the small patches of silver hair. You allowed yourself a few moments of recovery, before moving to leave the cot in order to extinguish the candles, as well as tidy yourself up. However, Tywin grabbed your arm to stop you.
“Where are you going?”
“The candles –”
“Can wait,” Tywin interrupted, voice sounding unbothered as always, albeit with a hint of fatigue. He exhaled slowly, as he gently pulled you back down to lay upon the cot beside him. “One of the guards outside can see to the candles in a moment. You are carrying my heir, so you are to rest. As much as is feasible, from now until the babe is born. And if anyone questions it, they are to discuss it with me.”
Anyone possessing the sense the gods gave a mule knows “discussing” something with Tywin Lannister was just the opposite – it was not to be addressed at all, because what Tywin Lannister says, goes. A fact which made you smile softly.
“As my lord husband commands,” you replied, a hint of sarcasm in your tone, but you did exactly as he bade you, pulling some of the blankets over you and nestling into the pillows. You were already yawning by the time Tywin called for a guard, who extinguished the candles, and bathed the room in darkness as you drifted into a deep, contented sleep.
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hotchnerbby · 2 years
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A New Generation
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Tywin Lannister x Female Reader
Summary: The wedding of King Joffrey and Queen Margaery, a joyous event made even more joyous with the birth of a special babe.
Author’s Note: Purple wedding stuff but not much talk of it. Also, I am sort of back from the dead and am watching HOTD, JUSTICE FOR AEMMA!
Word Count: 911
My Masterlist
Today was the wedding of the King, your step-grandson to the ever-elusive Margaery Tyrell, or as your stepdaughter likes to call her, “the smirking whore from High Garden”. A peculiar marriage, you thought, as no woman in their right mind would ever marry someone like Joffrey. It was an open secret how much of a monster that child was.
Nonetheless, today was the celebration of their union, a very illustrious affair meant to show off the wealth and power that the Lannister’s possess now that they control the Iron Throne. Lannister colors covered every floor, table, and wall. Red and gold, very reminiscent of your wedding with your husband, the Hand of the King, the great Lion of Casterly Rock, Tywin Lannister.
Though an unexpected match as you were significantly younger than him, he treated you with the respect and honors deserving of Lady Lannister. It took a while for you and your Lord Husband to acclimate, but over time great affection and maybe even love blossomed between the two of you. After this, it didn’t take long for your mutual affection for one another to bear fruit, one that would come in nine months’ time.
When you told Tywin that you were with child, he was overjoyed, and he rarely feels joy these days. Thereafter he refused to let you do anything, anything that could harm you or the babe. He is a very doting husband.
Which agonizes you in this situation, you know your Lord Husband would be furious with you that you have hidden the fact that your water broke during the wedding ceremony of his grandson, but today was such an important event, the birth of a Lannister heir would most certainty shadow the wedding. So not wanting to take away from the event and suffering from the wrath of your stepdaughter, you keep quiet, at least as quiet as you can.
You manage to make it through most of the ceremony, but the moment you sat down to eat, that’s when the contractions hit you full force. Your back hurt, that dull ache in your abdomen now felt like you were being ripped apart. The babe was coming. 
Tywin was busy watching the King, making sure that the boy did not fuck up a day as important as this. But while he does this, he fails to notice you call one of your handmaidens over.
“Take me back to my chambers, I need to fix my dress.” You spit out through gritted teeth.
“Of course, my lady.” The young girl replied as she helped you up from your seat. You and your handmaidens slip away quietly, not drawing attention to yourselves. As you make your way back you double over in pain, your handmaidens frightened knowing that if Lady Lannister was hurt, the Old Lion would surely have their heads.
“My Lady are you alright?” one of your handmaidens’ panics.
“The babe is coming soon. Fetch for a Maester, immediately!” You said in agony.
A handmaiden scurries along to go and find a Maester as the rest help you up and back into your chambers. They undress you, leaving you in your linen shift. The pain unbearable now, leaves you on your knees hunched over as you grip one of the ornate posts of your bed. Beads of sweat run down your face, you just want this to be over with.
“Where is my wife!” you hear your husband yell, but you could barely process what he was saying as the pain had become even more unbearable as the urge to push began. 
“Get out of my way!” Tywin seethes.
“Darling, I’m here.” His voice is soft now. You can feel him rub circles on your lower back as he tucks the hair out of your sweaty face.
“My dear, I’m sorry, I did not want to disrupt the feast.” You groan.
Tywin chuckles. “Darling, nothing is more important than you and the birth of our child, even if today also happens to be the wedding of the King.”
“But—” you try to speak, but Twin stops you. 
“Now hush, you need to save your strength. Where is the Maester!” your husband yells again.
“Oh, I don’t think he will get there on time, the baby is coming now!” You grunt as you grip tighter to the post of your bed. You begin doing what your body was naturally telling you to do, push. Your screams and labored breaths fill your bedchamber, tears are running down your flushed cheeks. You feel your husband tenderly rub circles on your back and pull your hair back from your sweaty face.
“You can do it my love, you are strong and so is the babe, you can do it, you are doing such a good job.” You faintly hear Tywin whisper to you. Tywin’s encouraging words manage to work and you give a few more strong pushes and then you hear a strong cry fill the room.
You look down to see that Tywin has caught the babe. Tears of joy stream down your face. “Is the babe well?” You manage to croak out.
Tywin looks at you, eyes misty. “We have a son, and he is strong and healthy. You have done a wonderful job darling.” He says proudly, kissing your forehead. 
You smile at the sight of your loving Lord Husband cradling your pride and joy. You could get used to seeing this side of Tywin.
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beyscape · 2 years
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don't mind me, I'm just casually plugging my new Tywin Lannister x Targaryen!OFC fic 👀
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dragons-and-handcuffs · 7 months
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After marrying Tywin, to Stark!Readers utter humiliation, she’s near constantly pregnant. Continuously pushing out blonde haired, green eyed babies that look nothing like Starks. Within a few months of giving birth to one child, Tywin already has her legs over his shoulders and breeding another one into her warm cunt. She’s not safe when she’s pregnant either, with Tywin still commanding she mount and ride his cock even while in her third trimester.
You are always pregnant. That's how Tywin likes you. You are ashamed that not one child resembles any of the stark traits and only look like a Lannister but it brings Tywin great pleasure.
You have soon realized that Tywin likes to fuck you even more while you are pregnant. He makes you get on your knees and serve him, his cock in your mouth while you are pregnant and naked or after you gave birth. He just casually pulls you sensitive nipples while talking to you, making you feel like you are there for only one purpose. He makes you ride him while pregnant, telling you how you have disgraced house stark and is now his property. He will lovingly caress your swollen belly and feel his son while roughly pulling your hair.
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the-well-known-scout · 5 months
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A Bride in the Eyes of Some
Tywin Lannister X Reader Fic 🦁
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(nsfw!)
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“The Lady (Y/N) Lannister”, a title that ran through your mind and rang in your ears as you heard it.
You felt a certain disdain run down your spine that day, a rattle in your soul like no other. The announcement was a shocking one to you, remembering the day you were declared as the newest woman to Tywin Lannister. You remembered the wedding, how he didn’t share more than the hardest of pecks on your cheek as the Septon declared you man and wife. You remember the silence, the groaning and worn down creaking of the bed of your wedding night. You forced yourself to like it, you forced yourself to muster out pseudo-moans as Lannister-bred seed poured into you. You forced yourself to embrace your life as a vessel for blonde-haired children, with eyes as green as emeralds with a stiff lip. He’d never love you like he loved Joanna, you would never replace the whole in his heart she left behind. You would never be his love, you’d never be her. Or so, you thought.
Over time, you had learned to navigate the Red Keep, you learned to navigate the people that resided there. And you especially learned to navigate your lord husband, of Tywin. At times you didn’t have much to go off of, a grunt or a mumble underneath his breath damning something to the Seven Hells. His cunning mind and how it worked its’ way around the realms of politicking and pursuits of power. It intimidated you, it made you question yourself and your intelligence. Which you knew for sure, was a purposeful act. You needed to be on his time, you needed his mind, or he’d cast you away as useless. You learned to keep your distance at times, the Great Lion a man you didn’t dare to want to upset. You kept your interactions to a tee, never wanting to overbear him with what he viewed as “imperfections”. He only needed you when he called you, whether it be an execution of such schemes, or to warm his bed. He didn’t love to embrace your flesh, you imagine he thought of Joanna as he rocked you against the sheets. But you were wrong in that behalf, at least, as he grew used to you.
To most of Westeros, and even his own flesh and blood, Tywin was a lonely, bitter soul that threw back at the world what it gave to him; ten times as harsher. A cold, calculating man that cared for the benefit of him and him alone. But, he remained gentle with you, becoming more than a means of his lust. He was as delicate as he could be, being the Great Lion of The Rock. A softer stare in your direction rather than the cold, brutish one he darted to his enemies, or even the politest of terms when he speaks of you. You could listen to the words “lady-wife” roll off of his tongue all day and into the darkest of nights. He learned to tolerate your differentiating antics over time, finding them rather comical as he grew to know you more. How you interacted with servants among the Rock, to how passionate you grew about something you were determined for. You watched as a connection blossomed between you two, no longer the glacial silence that you both slept through, begging for one of you to find the courage to speak.
He would watch you as you read in bed with him, occasionally making a few notes and sneers about your posture. He would poke at the Old Valaryian books you insisted to put your nose in, laughing at your naïveté of the past. You were on guard at first, ready to bite back at whatever you felt was an insult until you realized it. He was talking to you, he was jeering with you. He was loving you. What stared off as the burden of your existence, the dread you wished to hide from as you laid next to him, become passionate. You were making love to Lord Tywin Lannister. No longer hid pathetic tears you held back, became moaning, a desperation for flesh you shared.
You daydreamed of how he rocked your hips atop of him, his grunting and slight-growling. He never said much during the act of fervoring your cunt onto him, but he didn’t need to. You would have his children, you would make his heirs, hopefully to turn out better than the three he was given. He was strong enough to place you how he saw fit, whether it be upon your knees, lying on your back and holding onto your ankles, or below him. He wanted you to worship him, every inch and fold of his skin he gave to you. At times, he’d whap you across the bottom, leaving warm spots from where his hands struck. At other times, he would have you on your knees, pulling you by the shoulder back to the gracious inches he gave to you. Tywin’s hands were some of the most dangerous pair within Westeros, hands you were not exempt from in the bed. And he would fuck you, until he grew tired, or had had you well-filled with enough loads of his seed to give him an entire line of Lannisters.
As his seed would pool out of you when you turned over to find a smidgen of rest, you would feel him. A singular hand wrapped around you, his head not too far from your shoulder. It was no longer the political prison you so desperately wanted to escape, it was love. Love of the highest points, love that stretched from The Rock to Dorne. A love that could never be taken away from you. A love that would be seen and heard among the Gods and men, new and old. And a love, you would never want out of.
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msmorningstaarr · 4 months
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let me fill you up | Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader
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ao3 | masterlist
Pairing: Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader
Summary: You, a Targaryen princess were married into the Lannister fold to ensure the alliance between the two houses, ensuring your eldest brother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Now, Lord Jaime makes your days filled with happiness and makes you eager to present him babies.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: rhaegar wins AU, no targcest, smuff, fluff, breeding kink, praising kink, a lot of pet names (sweet girl, princess, love), reader has no physical description besides the silvery white targaryen hair, creampie, oral (f receiving), a very devoted husband commited to your pleasure, smut, sex;
a/n: Happy new year! I had posted I wanted to write something like that and it's been a while since I want to write something other than holy and heathen because I must admit I'm not very satisfied with what I've been writing lately. Some validation kudos, comments and reblogs would be very important to me, seriously :') I’ve been thinking in turning this into a small series but I’m not so sure. Could you give me your thoughts on this too? please, enjoy your reading!
Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody
You are sitting surrounded by your maids and children on a breezy night, covered with a fur coat and a crimson silk dress under it. Attentively, you go stitch by stitch and slowly form a lion, sigil of your husband’s house. Ever since Robert’s Rebellion ended and your brother, King Rhaegar Targaryen won, you became promised to the former knight of the Kingsguard, now Lord Jaime Lannister. Life in the lion’s den was not difficult, once Lord Tywin treated her with the most kindness and Jaime was still coming out of his shell. At first, he was your sworn sword in King’s Landing and spent plenty of time together in an unbalanced relationship. Now, you two are sharing a bed after a tumultuous year of war and destruction, as equals. In the beginning, you were sceptical about marrying into the Lannister household, but as the months went by, you found yourself drowned at him. Jaime is careful, gentle and kind. He brings you a small dandelion every morning once he knows it reminds you of home.
His only quirk was the strange attachment to his sister, Lady Cersei. But after being sent to Dorne to marry Prince Oberyn of House Martell and getting distant from each other, your relationship with your husband seemed to finally thrive.
“It appears to be beautiful, my lady.” Said one of her maids, taking care of your youngest son, a small silvery blonde figure of two years of age.
“A bright lion handkerchief for Jaime to carry with him.” You reply, admiring your piece of work. “Do you believe your father will like it, sweetling?” You then ask your eldest daughter, an adorable child of four. Your daughter eagerly nods her head and wraps her hands around one of your fingers to pull the fabric closer to her eyes.
“Dada will love it, mama!” The little one exclaimed, spinning around with the kerchief on her tiny hands.
“What will I love, if I’m allowed to ask?” A tall, blonde figure shows up in your private bedchambers, wearing a classic Westerland attire with a crimson fabric and intricate strings of gold shaped into the sleeves and collar. You smile sweetly to Jaime as he approaches you and grabs your middle child to hold in his arms.
“Papa!” The blonde little girl runs towards her father to embrace his legs and your maids stand up to bow to their lord.
“Have you missed me, dear?” Jaime asked and the fussy children eagerly nodded at him, embracing their father even more. Sometimes, seeing Jaime being so loving and kind towards your children simply melted your heart. You felt the urgency to kiss him and dig your fingers onto his bright hair, begging him for another child. Your cunt ached in pleasure to the thought of Jaime pumping his seed inside of you. You were still young and could bear many more children.
“Mm-rrhm…” You scoffed. “I have missed you too, husband.”
The three children giggled and the child on his arms hid his face on the crook of Jaime’s neck. The eldest covered her laugh with her tiny hands and the youngest beamed along their siblings. Jaime came closer to you and caressed your cheeks with his free hand. Then, a single and gentle kiss he places over your forehead, making your heart flutters with love and passion.
“I have missed you too, my love.” Jaime said, passing his fingertips on your chin and smiling at you.
Your maids quickly stood up and bowed at their overlord as a sign of respect. “Excuse me, my lord, my lady,” Said the servant girl. “Let us take the children so you can rest.”
“But I want to stay with papa!” Said the elder daughter, pouting and crossing her arms. The other two children whined and complained along, but you lowered into their level whilst Jaime talked to the youngest on his arm.
“Sweetlings,” She said, caressing their cheeks. “Your father is rather tired after riding for so long. Go with her, I promise you, your siblings, me and your father will have plenty of time together on the morrow. Is that understood, my loves?”
“I can take you to ride a horse tomorrow and even let you eat lemon cakes before super. What do you think?” Jaime asked, delivering the fussy child from his arms to the other maid. In unison, the three infants agreed and left disappointed. Once you and your husband were alone in your bedchambers, Jaime smiled at you gallantly. You embrace him intimately and are finally able to feel the warmth of his muscular body and feel the softness of his golden hair. His lips reach yours and in a whirlwind of sensations, your cunt is already dripping in anticipation just by a simple touch coming from him. Once he breaks the kiss, he keeps holding you by your waist and gazing at you with admiration.
“You have been gone for too long, love.” You say, passing your fingertips on his lips. He smiles and gives you a peck on the lips before speaking.
“I had duties with your brother, Our Grace King Rhaegar, sweet girl.” Jaime replies, pulling her out gently and grabbing the fabric she embroidered for him.
“I hope you like it, I made it just for you.” You point out, joining your hands to follow him. He keeps smiling as he observes attentively the intricate work you did.
“I shall cherish it and take it wherever I go, dragon princess.” He replied, folding and putting the kerchief in one of his pockets. You giggle as you hear him calling you ‘dragon princess’, a custom he chose to never abandon as a form to remember the late days of their relationship “I wish I had more time to be around and play with the children, I have been missing them and you.”
“They made drawings every day and left it on your desk at your office.” You reply, walking to the window and being followed by him.
“I will make sure to have them guarded in our chambers. Safe as our gold.” He says, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck lightly. You beam in ecstasy feeling his body smother you into a comforting embrace and full missing him.
“Sometimes I still cannot believe we are wedded to each other. You were my sworn shield in King’s Landing!” You exclaim as his hand caresses your empty belly and it tingles by his touch. He grins at your words and says.
“Most people are not so lucky to know your spouse before the wedding day. I consider myself the most lucky man in the world because I could be in your acquaintance from so long ago.” He replies, falling his head on the crook of your neck.
You turn around to be face to face with Jaime, feeling the cold breeze of the rock hitting your back and giving you small shocks as Jaime caresses your back, making you experience a thermal shock and shudder to his touch.
“I feel very lucky to be your wife, Jaime. Most women are not so fortunate to have such a kind, loving and handsome husband.” You mutter as he strokes your hair, in awe with your beauty.
“I guess we are fortunate to be together after so many troubles in war. We even brought new lives into this world to paint a new, brightful history.” He replies, caressing your womb. You stare at his fingers passing up and down your belly and glances at him with a sweet smile.
“And we could have more, love. I must admit I feel empty for so long and I want to give you more children… I know I can give you an entire army of your own. Half lion, half dragon. Unstoppable creatures.”
“You feel empty, love?” He asks, smirking and you eagerly agree with him. “Then allow me to fill you up…” Jaime finished, slowly undoing the intricate laces of your dress to reveal your bare skin under the crimson fabric. In response, you open his attire slowly and little by little his white tunic appears to her eyes.
By this point, your cunt is already sore in anticipation for the moment about to happen and clenches around nothing once he pushes the last section of string holding your garment, releasing you from the pressure tightening your upper body. Jaime pushes down your dress and your underwear is now on display for him, which makes him bite his lip and eagerly take down your white camisole to show him your bare body. You moan as he squeezes your breast and pinches your nipples whilst kissing you. You quickly take off his own undershirt to show off his chest.
“So eager is my dragon princess.” He playfully says, leading you to bed and carefully laying you down. With devotion, he starts to kiss your feet, legs and knees, his hands roaming through your thighs and hips. “Spread your legs for me, little dragon.”
You part your legs, obeying his soft command. “So wet… I can see you truly missed me, my love.” He says, kissing your inner thighs as your body squirms in pleasure before he reaches your intimacy.
“Oh… I have missed you so much, my lion.” You moan your words as he kisses your groyne and passes his fingers lightly over your clit, making your womb tremble and convulse to his touch.
“I can see that, just as I missed you, my dragon princess. Do I have permission to give you a lord’s kiss?” He asks and you only nod in response, making Jaime wet his lips with his own saliva before diving into your dripping core and you to scream involuntarily as his tongue and lips eat you up with full desire. Jaime circles his tongue around your clit and roam around your entire intimacy, making your hips bounce onto his direction. It was his costume to make you come every time before he would be inside of you, now could not be different.
You feel your body explode as if someone threw you into dragon fire as Jaime relentlessly pleases you, making magic with his tongue. Skillfully, he explores your intimate area inch by inch with eagerness, making you dig your fingers on his golden curls, pulling him closer to your cunt and you contorses your body urging for more. Tears of pleasure fall off as you feel goosebumps once you realise you are close to your climax.
As the intensity builds, Jaime's movements become more deliberate, pushing you closer to the edge of bliss. Your breath hitches, and your fingers entwine in his golden locks, urging him on. The world narrows down to the pleasure he provides, the connection between you deepening with every passing moment.
When the climax finally crashes over you, Jaime doesn't relent. He continues to caress your sensitive core with his tongue, prolonging the sweet release. Your body shudders with pleasure, and you feel the bond between you and Jaime reaching new heights.
“Husband…” You try to stop him and give yourself some time to take a breath, but Jaime does not back off and part your legs once more, holding it as he keeps licking, kissing and sucking your pussy.
“No no, wife… let me please you and bring you to climax once more…” He cuts your words and gently goes back, but now he plays with his fingers on your clit, with far less pressure and slowly draws circles around it, taking soft moans from you. Jaime rises to hover over you, a wicked glint in his eyes. His fingers trace patterns on your flushed skin as he leans in for a heated kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips. “Taste yourself, love.”
And not so long after, you scream his name as you feel waves of pleasure hitting your body as a lightning bolt hits the ground in a storm. Your body is trembling and your legs seem to be two wooden sticks, barely able to stand.
“Please… inside of me, Jaime… I need you…” You plead with him, pulling his body to be on top of yours.
“Your wish is my command, princess.” He replies, kissing you passionately once more and positioning between your legs. Jaime's eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. The anticipation was hanging heavy in the air, your bodies aligned perfectly, and as he slowly entered you, a shared moan escaped both of your lips.
The sensation is electrifying, the culmination of the pleasure he bestowed upon you and the intimate connection between your bodies. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deepening the bond that exists only between you two.
“My perfect princess takes me so well…” He grows as thrusts into you going back and forth nonstop. You lock him by involving your legs around his waist and feeling his hard cock entering your cunt in full force, reaching your cervix and making you beg for more in his ear.
The room echoes with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies, creating a tapestry of love and passion.
“Put another babe on my belly Ser, please…” You beg him as moans leave your mouth and the sound of crashing bodies fill the room quickly.
“With pleasure, love…” He says once more. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deeper inside of your pussy in farfetched positions. He missed you too much after months away from you and it shows by the way he kisses you as he moves desperately to have more of mounting his dragon. The room echoes with the sounds of your shared passion, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies. As Jaime's movements become faster, the pleasure intensifies, and you find yourself on the verge of another climax. The pleasure is overwhelming, and your bodies move in perfect harmony.
With a final, fervent thrust, Jaime succumbs to the ecstasy and releases his seed deep inside of your womb, growling and grunting with relief and utter bliss. You hit your own orgasm as you feel the warm jets of his seed invading your walls and your body squirm and you scream his name, crying out.
Your bodies tremble in the aftermath, and he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is filled with a comforting silence as you both catch your breath. Jaime's fingers gently trace patterns on your skin as you bask in the warmth of the afterglow. “Do you think we created one more life for our household, love?” You ask him, laying your head on his chest. The world outside your chambers seems distant, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, lost in the serenity of each other's embrace.
“Depending on your fertile womb, my love, I have no doubts you are.” He replies, caressing your silvery white hair. “But we must endure in our pursuit on a daily routine. Just to make sure our fourth babe is on the way.” He playfully replies, smirking at you, who mischievously smiles back at him and kisses his lips, wiping some strings of sweat from his face.
Jaime presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a soothing murmur, "I love you, my dragon princess."
And you, wrapped in the arms of the man you love, whisper back, "And I love you, my lion shield."
407 notes · View notes
thebadboyfanclub · 11 months
Text
Don’t Say It (Tywin x Reader)
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I know I disappeared for a little but I hit a writers block with this one, I think it’s due to exhaustion over me working full time so I hope @thanyatargaryen forgives me if this wasn’t what you intended. Enjoy
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Olenna Tyrell was a legend, she had learned the rules by heart and was now on a mission to pass them down to her wonderful granddaughters, the beautiful rose that listened to the name of Margaery and the bewitching siren that could stop a man with a simple song, the young (y/n).
Olenna was no fool, she recognized that the two girls were her strongest soldiers, with these two alone she could rule all of Westeros, well at least all the men which was the same thing.
“Today is an important day, even for you dearest, the wedding of your sister to the king means every eligible lord from all of the seven kingdoms will be attending”
“I am well aware, you do not have to worry about me, grandmother”
(Y/n) reassured olenna whilst her handmaidens assisted her with the finest dress anyone had ever seen, it was her first time at court she needed to look her best, (y/n) squeezed into a dress that was custom made, her hair had taken hours and was brushed to perfection and she smelled of the finest of fragrance oils that were brought from Dorne, it is safe to say that (y/n) couldn’t have looked nor smelled better.
Everyone’s breath hitched at their throats when (y/n) walked with the confidence only a Tyrell could possess, she strutted up to her big sister to wrap her arms around Margaery with clear endearment.
“Congratulations, my queen”
“Oh come on now stop with that”
“I know this is a blessed day for the king but could he be so kind and hear a plea I have for him?”
“Anything for my good sister”
“Look after my dear Marge, as she has done for me”
(Y/n)s voice was as sweet as strawberry cakes and her smile could stop a man dead in his tracks, the young Tyrell leaned on her big sister pressing her chin on Margaerys shoulder whilst the bride leaned her head close to (y/n) as well, the girls shared a strong bond, it was the first time that they would be separated ever since (y/n) was born.
What they did not know was that a certain someone had already his blue set of eyes on the lovely Tyrell who seemed so blatantly unaware of it all, Tywin had sworn to never remarry, no one would ever be as good as his dearest Joanna, she was the one that knew him like the back of her hand, the lady that could wrap her arms around the vicious lion and make him swoon, if she saw him now she would laugh at him, she always told him “never say never my love, you won’t know what the future holds for you”.
“You have your queen and your alliance now, I hope you are happy”
“Naturally, Margaery will serve the realm greatly”
“Soon enough she will start popping out lions, hopefully, my little (y/n) will have better luck”
“What could be better than becoming the queen mother?”
“Becoming the lady wife of a lord that cares for your well-being and happiness”
Tywin grew silent, there was nothing he could say against the allegations of Jeffrey’s cruel nature, he could only hope that Margaery was cunning enough to outsmart him which honestly was not going to be much of a huddle, all the times that Joffrey has been able to be sadistic was owed to other peoples stupidity to either allow him or cover for him.
“Well then let me take a good look at this girl you have such expectations for, lady (y/n)”
Tywin called for the girl whilst he stood a few feet away from the newlyweds, (y/n)s eyes finally found his, and Tywin felt his chest grow tight, the girl was a dream, a dream he often had but could never speak of due to him always believing it will be just that… a silly dream of a widower.
“Lord Tywin, I can imagine this day is probably one of the happiest for your house, correct me if I am wrong but house Tyrell has never wed a Lannister prior to this moment”
“Indeed, let this be a fruitful union for both of our houses, your grandmother has spoken quite highly of you”
“Oh do not listen to her, it is a grandmother's nature to always speak for her grandchildren in the best light”
“Nonsense, Garlan is utterly nice which makes him boring and Loras likes to imagine being a young day twirling in a dress on the garden field, I had lost all hope up until you and your sister were born, the true soldiers of the Tyrell’s”
(Y/n) smiled sweetly before she leaned to place a kiss on her grandmother's cheek, (y/n) and Margaery was well trained, they had sat on the table and played against the best of players only to come out victorious, now Margaery was queen and (y/n) was ready to score her alliance that would bring nothing but glory to her and her family.
“Lady olenna is a lot of things but she is not soft nor does she hide behind her finger, if she says you are her best card then I truly believe it”
Olenna noticed the graciousness in the old lions' words, she picked up on the scanning look that started from her toes and ended on the top of her head, (y/n) did not even have a hair out of place, she placed her hand over her heart as a sign of vulnerability and her smile became brighter in gratitude.
“You are utmost kind, my lord, it is not every day a lady gets to be complimented by the warden of Casterly Rock and the hand of the king, I consider myself lucky for that”
“Luck has nothing to do with it, above it all I am a man that favors honesty and that is what you are receiving”
“I shall go before your words get all in my head, it was an honor to meet you, my lord”
(Y/n) went to curtsy before she was interrupted by Tywin that instead of letting her, reached for her hand and then placed his other one on top of hers, a smirk still evident on his lips as his eyes pierced through her, yet he was left with nothing, (y/n) had always prevailed under the hawking looks of men, she was well aware that she could not budge whatsoever.
“I will see you later Grandmother”
“Of course little flower, go on now, have some fun for me”
Olenna kissed the top of the lady’s head lovingly, it was not a secret that olenna doted on her especially now that it was her turn to marry, she had to bite her lip when it came to Margaery since her son had already bargained her for a sweet deal of a crown, she must do right by (y/n).
Once the lady was far away enough Olenna turned her head towards Tywin who was still following the enchanting Tyrell with his gaze, the way she walked, talked, even her breathing was perfect, his thumb traced over his fingertips, recalling how soft and warm he skin felt against his touch.
“I know that look”
“Pardon?”
“You are planning something”
“I always am”
“If you are scheming to betroth my precious flower to another lion, I must admit I would rather it be you than that little son of yours, in truth I would rather for her to stay away from lions but an old lion is better than Tyrion”
-
The news of Tywins betrothal hit everyone in kings landing like a ton of bricks. Joffrey was dead, Margaery was technically the dowager queen, and the crown was getting weak by the moment.
(Y/n) had become her sister's shadow, some applauded her compassion and how she was present at all hours to console her sister, what they did not know was that Olenna was already moving the strings for Margaery to marry Tommen, the young, kind boy who could never hurt a fly, however, Olenna had ensured both of the girls now once and for all, what better way to do that than to mess with Tywins head?
“Lady olenna, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I am here to propose another marriage between my house and yours”
“That is no surprise, I am to expect you wish to betroth Margaery to Tommen?”
“No, no my dear Margaery has been through way too much”
“Loras is still to marry Cersei, is there a change in that betrothal?”
“Unfortunately that mess of a wedlock is still going steady, I am concerned over my (y/n)”
Tywin had been too occupied with writing to look up at olenna up until now, his ears perked up at the sound of her name, the girl with the bright smile and the scary resemblance to a shadow of the past.
“What do you wish to suggest?”
“My (y/n) is sweet, kind, and full of life, I believe Tommen would treat her as delicate as she deserves to be treated”
“Tommen? You want to put (y/n) by the new king's side?”
“Tommen is a good boy, nothing like Joffrey, I have taken notice of how Tommen smiles at her, no man could ever deny my beloved granddaughter, I am convinced their reign will be prosperous”
“Mayhaps, although I do not believe Tommen should be the one to marry (y/n)”
“Who else could stand the weight of the crown? Tommen is in much need of someone like (y/n), to keep him humble and gentle, show him what it is like to be loved”
That was what made tywins blood boil the most, the concept of (y/n) hugging Tommen, his grandson brushing (y/n)s hair, the lady creating a child out of Tommens semen, the image of her with a swollen belly whilst Tommen rubbed his hand over it made his skin crawl.
No, no he would never allow another man to be by her side on those milestones, he was graced by the gods with a second chance at love, how could he be a bystander to a marriage that would probably be terrific, although Tywin could never survive with the “what if” lingering on his mind.
“Because she is to marry me”
“Pardon?”
“I am to be betrothed to the lady (y/n), our marriage will take place the same day as Margaerys and Tommens, your Margaery will be queen, and lady (y/n) will become the lady of the rock”
“I would rather die than let my dearest become a second wife, your daughter will eat her alive once the news hit her ears”
“Are you afraid of Cersei?”
“I am petrified of the brass neck your daughter possesses, that woman thinks she can do whatever she pleases with no consequence”
“Cersei is my daughter, you have nothing to worry about she will not be allowed to harm your little girl, once (y/n) falls pregnant that child will become heir of Casterly Rock”
“What if she births a girl?”
“You and (y/n) along with Margaery will decide on her future, I will not partake or force my daughter to do anything”
“Your offer is dripping with syrup, but I will not accept, I gave you Loras and Margaery and now you dare to ask for more”
“If you do not consent to this then I shall announce a match of (y/n) and Ser Sandor Clegane, how does that sound?”
“Careful now, what you are suggesting is… grasping”
“Indeed, but I am feeling rather charitable so I grant you the day to decide, if I do not have an answer by the morrow then the sweet girl will be cloaked with a wonderful yellow flag”
Tywin was a man that proudly stood behind his every word, so as he walked out with a triumphed smirk on his lips he was too occupied with feeling his triumph to notice that olenna was also doing the same (y/n) was now the future lady of the rock and Margaery was to have a second chance to wear the crown.
“My lord”
(Y/n) interrupted his thoughts once she saw him, Tywin stopped swiftly before he could fall right onto her, she was waiting behind the door anxiously, her eyes gawked at the man as her cheeks grew rosy from the embarrassment of her clumsy nature.
“Lady (y/n), what seems to be so important that you could not wait in your chamber for your grandmother”
“She informed me about my betrothal, I apologize I was just so fidgety I wanted to know the second that it was settled”
“Are you in such a rush to marry that boy? I am concerned over your taste”
“Tommen is a wonderful person and the future king, any lady would be lucky to be his lady wife”
“So is it the promise of a crown that excites you? I can tell you wearing a piece of metal decorated with gems will not bring you any happiness”
“Pardon my intrusion but why are you so opposed to the fact of me marrying your grandson? I am highborn and have received the proper education, your house along with the Baratheon owe my family everything”
“It is not you that is not enough young lady”
Silence fell over them, Tywin had stumbled right on her trap and now he was as still as a grain of salt, only blinking at the girl that acted surprised over his suggestion that Tommen was the one that was short when he stood next to her, (y/n) bit her lip before she gazed down for a split second and then back up, she wanted to appear at a loss of words.
“I do not want to believe what my thoughts are suggesting”
“You are a fool if you don’t”
“Lord Tywin, you and I it- how could”
“I am too old for this game my dear, I have given your grandmother the rest of the day to decide and if I’m being frank I believe that luck is on my side, so I suggest you ran along and instruct the finest tailor to start on your gown, you must look as stunning as ever”
“I am fluttered, but I do not understand-“
“Listen to me dear, from that moment you smiled at me you have haunted every waking moment and I cannot seem to escape you even in the shackles of deep slumber, I am aware that I do not look like the young and beautiful knight in shining armor a maiden might expect to marry but I can you this promise right now, every other lady from east to west will be jealous of the luck you held when you marry me”
Lord Tywin once again made his exit thinking that he had the upper hand, if someone were to consider everything that has been done in this world wasn’t it always like this?
A man trotted away victorious while the woman stood and smiled proudly at herself, moving the strings without even the man realizing that she had very carefully placed the strings around his arms like a little puppet.
“My dearest girl, I was there at your birth and I took one good look at you and saw the moon and the stars in those eyes, I always knew you would be the brightest of them all”
Olenna informed (y/n) once she had walked into the office Tywin was in moments ago, Olenna wrapped her arms around her in the most loving manner and (y/n) responded with the same warmth.
“We have so much to plan, the future doesn’t wait for anyone”
-
“How could he ever do this to our family?”
“Who did what?”
“Do not play the fool with me Jaime I am sure you have heard of the vilest news, our father is to marry that little rat from Highgarden”
“One of them is a smirking whore and the other one is a rat? Well you certainly won’t have a good time in the palace once all of them marry into our family”
“How could be so calm at this time? Our son is dead, the other one is to marry Margaery and now our father betrayed us”
“Our father has been without a wife for over a decade Cersei, he is a highborn lord, anyone would have a good chunk of heirs from another wife by now”
In jaimes defense he has always attempted to take the logical side when Cersei went on her little paranoid rants over loyalty or whatever the case was at that time, however, this time he could not sit for hours and let her blabber.
Jaime did not even blink when his father told him about his betrothal, he is a kingsguard, and Tyrion is… well, Tyrion and Cersei have played her part in becoming queen though she could not inherit lannisport, every year he waited for his father to announce a marriage of alliance for himself and now it was finally time.
“This is despicable, they will tarnish our name”
“How will they do that exactly? (Y/n) will probably do her best at becoming pregnant which will install our name to live on which as you know is truly what our father cares about”
“Margaery is a manipulative little scum she will shred our Tommen to pieces”
“Tommen was tormented by Joffrey for years and you know it, if anything having some female tending to him will probably do wonders for his confidence”
“Of course as a man that is all you think about, I do not even know why I came to you over this matter, once again I am called to act by myself”
That is when Jaime had heard enough, very softly he rose from his seat and went over to his clearly disheveled sister, a kiss was laid on the center of her forehead all while his hands rubbed up and down to her forearms making her puff out a breath of relief from the comfort his touch brought to her.
“You will do nothing, Father has already announced his betrothal, if anyone even touched a hair from (y/n)s head he will not hesitate to demand its head to be served on a silver platter”
“Father is just being short sighed it is us that must act to save him”
“From what? Having his bed warm by a woman? Especially her, surely you are not that blind that you haven’t understood what he saw in her”
“Don’t say it”
“I know it feels like salt over the wound-“
“No, no”
“You must admit the resemblance is uncanny”
“Never!”
Cersei pushed him away harshly, tears welled up in her eyes and all of a sudden she was rudely pulled back to that day, the gods forsaken day that Cersei had to witness her mother laying in bed with blood staining her nightgown.
“That bitch is not our mother”
“She is not, though she looks like her”
Requests are open!
992 notes · View notes
themotherofblood · 9 months
Note
Hello!
I saw that you asked about request for Tywin. I wanted to ask something brief about modern!Tywin with his young girlfriend. Anything you can think of with that scenario would be fine.
Thanks for reading me!❤️
you’ve been so engaged with the whole mafia Tywin thing, fyi I love you for this ask because that’s what inspired it bubs. I feel like this is a quaint set up chapter for this series :)
synopsis: a drunk encounter between Tywin and his golden darling.
warnings: shoe riding, AGE GAP, mentions of bullets. alcohol consumption.
word count - 2k+
masterlist | series masterlist | Lion’s Grasp AU
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There was an odd sense of contentment, you were too comfortable with the life you had right now, devoid of having to ask too many questions— mostly for your own good. You had found a jewel of a man, and yes the gold digger comments never sit right with you but a man so fine, devoted was far good of a catch to let go. You wouldn’t think twice but close your eyes and jump down the cliff that was your relationship, there was no lie in the subtle fear that lingered in your heart around him. A striking silver fox and total charmer, it took learning to even breathe freely around him. 
Here you are now, in your own little apartment. Dabbing your fingers on your lips to soften the red lipstick, with the exam season finally over, you could let your hair down and drink till you become very aware of the organs within you and the booze— well, your perfect man happened to own some of the most notorious clubs around Lanniston, more like his son Tyrion but all the same. You looked up at the mirror, feeling great about how two hours of work made you look. 
You hesitantly looked at your phone, cheekily smiling at yourself as you unlocked it and snapped a picture of yourself and sent it to Tywin, you could almost predict the message you’d receive back. 
“Do not drink too much darling.” 
You gnawed at your thumb, shaking your head before shooting him a quick text agreeing with him. A bald-faced lie and he knew so, his men were already on the lookout for you and your girlfriends at Satin House. 
The music, as usual, blared so loud you were sure your heart was thudding the same beat, it felt liberating to not spend another night in dirty pyjamas and crying about your coursework. The henchmen Tywin had put up diligently did their jobs as not a single man dared to go beyond the stern glares these bulked men shot their way. You were sure Tyrion was here somewhere, the air was far too sultry for his involvement to be missing. 
You left early, however, knowing your heeled feet nor Tywin would appreciate it but mostly because you missed him terribly. Practically barring him from witnessing the mess you were in the past month. You huffed out into the cold air of the night, the skies were clear and downtown Lannisport was still alive. Meren already stood at the ready by the town car, you rolled your eyes at him. He always had this pinched look to him, very mean. 
“To home, miss?” He asked as you shuffled into the back of the car. You merely hummed in reply.
He was quick to the driver’s end, ready to head towards your apartment but you stopped him.
“Where is Mr Lannister?” You asked, eyes closed as you huffed deep breaths to shake away the loopy daze in your head. 
“At work, miss.” 
“Take me there then, take me to him.” 
Meren hesitated for a moment, his orders were otherwise but how could he deny his boss’s girl. So he nodded, and you rested your head on the window. Drawing little pictures from the fog that followed with your mouth breathing. That lulled you to sleep somehow from the twenty-minute drive that was to Loren Tower, you were roused by Meren as you blinked away the small nap. 
In front of you was the eighty-two-floor skyscraper, the first time you visited your jaw nearly hit the ground. The building was nearly empty for the night other than security and other essential staff who were only here at two in the morning because their boss was a cruel, cruel man. You fixed your hair in the reflection of the elevator mirror, hoping Tywin agrees with this little surprise drunk visit. 
When the elevator dinged open to his floor, his burnt-out but pristinely dressed assistant was the first face you saw, she looked like she was nearly checked out. 
“Miss—“ she raised the telephone but you pressed your finger to your lips, forcing her to keep your little secret as you walked towards his office. Your heels clicked against the annoyingly polished and glossed marble floors. 
Without knocking you pushed in, leaning against the mahogany door frame, admiring the view you had craved for weeks. His white button rolled up his taut forearms, fingers toying with the idle coffee cup. Brows pulled to a harsh gaze, as usual, he didn’t even look up. 
“Reached home, has she?” 
His crisp voice nearly made your already wobbly legs even more unstable. You smirked at him, he looked almost cute— so focused. You pulled in your lips before speaking up. 
“You should really get yourself a third assistant, poor Cassandra looks dead.” 
Tywin’s eyes shot up, immediately locking onto yours before burning into every inch of your body, from your toes to your head— torturously slow as he leaned back onto his chair. 
“I could— you know, fill that position if it’s open.” you hiccuped, pushing yourself away from the door frame. A dopey smile on your lips softens Tywin’s resolution. 
“How many have you indulged in, love?” 
You place your point exactly on the tip of your nose to prove your point, you weren’t aware of your organs just yet. You half wanted to crawl on top of his table and then onto his lap but you chose the more appropriate route and walked around the desk and then plopped onto his lap. 
“What’s the point of all this, if you still work till two?” You kiss his cheek, nuzzling into the stubble he had grown. 
“It’s tax season.”
“Tax season.” you scoff making him look up at you questioningly “Just because I don’t ask questions doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
“Like your hench-“
He cuts you off before you could finish, pressing his lips to yours and pulling your thighs around his so you straddle his lap. The taste of sour cherry vodka is very apparent on your lips.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to darling.” he lectures, leaning lower to kiss your neck. 
“On— on a more serious note, I could use a big girl job.” you smile at him, fixing the already untouched collar of his shirt. Truly, the corporate market was the Dothraki Sea without any administrative experience. 
He raises his brow. “Well, are you after Cassandra’s job?” 
“No, no — but what rich businessman doesn’t have a dozen assistants.” You shrugged, “And I think I have just the right qualifications.”
“Oh, do you now?” 
You eagerly nod, preparing yourself to list a vocal resume. “I make great coffee, a barista duh? I can type quickly, I’m friendly and I can be very pretty and— and” you stick out your pointer and curl it around his collar to pull yourself closer to his ear. 
“I can service you in many other ways, Mr Lannister.” You whisper in his ear before settling back on your calves. 
His gaze hardens once more as he pulls his lips to a tight line. “Alright,” he rubs up your back “you have had one too many.”
This time like an indignant child pouting you pick his pointer finger and place it on the tip of your nose to once again prove you were indeed not wasted and within your right mind. You wanted the job, and you were just a little horny. 
The green of his eyes traced over yours for a moment, before a scoff tumbled from his chest. “You want a job?” 
You nodded your head once more. 
“Earn it then.”
He helped you off of him, letting you settle onto your knees, the rug providing ample protection to your poor knees, you tilted your head confused as he lifted your chin with his pointer. 
“Take your panties off for me.” 
Your breath hitched as excited electrocution began hurtling towards your mound. Your dry spell was to be lifted, another reward for acing your exams. Your eyes were fixated on Tywin as you shuffled your fingers under your green dress and pulled off your black thong, he held your shoulders to stop you from stumbling forwards as you pulled the flimsy fabric back your legs. 
His other hand extended out for you to hand him your panties which he promptly shoved in his pocket.
“Let’s see if you are as qualified as you say you are, little miss.” 
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You could stay here all day, oddly warm, comfortable. Minus the heels constricting your feet. It felt nice, it felt good thought it should be humiliating.
You sat on calves, with Jimmy Choo’s on your feet and a diamond pendant necklace around your neck. Head rested against Tywin’s thigh as he sat ever so commandingly in his armchair, his pretty whore knelt between his feet with an aching between your legs. You bite your inner cheek to not moan. 
“Please sir,” you whimpered, feeling another wave hurtling towards you as you rocked your hips against the fine black leather of Tywin’s dress shoes, the texture torturously stimulating your throbbing bud. You gnawed at his knee to stop the surge and then you whimpered once more. 
Your bottom lip wobbled, sniffling as you blinked away your tears. You sat straight with your back straight. You should have chosen the belt lashes instead, this was cruel—so fucking cruel. Here he sat, reading his revenue reports. You, about to be his pretty assistant (only by name) writhing at his feet, eyes glossed and lips bitten, full of colour.
Tywin rather enjoyed this, having you moved to a babbling, tearful mess before he buried his cock in the warm, wet snug for your pussy. He would make you earn the treat, he would have wanted nothing more but to keep you within his eyesight all day, safe and untouched. Your college had already taken such a toll on you he even went through with the private jet arrangements and hotel room to offer you a luxurious escape. His housekeeper, as you sat wiggling by his feet, was packing your luggage. 
“You’ve got to keep quiet, little girl, that was the deal.” His deeper voice crumbles, moving his hand away from the folders to gently pet your hair. 
You looked at him, lips pouted and trembling and nodded your head. Your eyes give him the sweetest most apologetic look, before sinking further into your knees and closing your eyes to avert this feeling of perpetual embarrassment and agony. 
Tywin set down his reports, finally having read through at least a dozen papers before focusing his attention on you. Her pet through your hair, lifting your chin to wipe at your tear-soaked cheeks. 
“Messy little slut.” He tuts, “So desperate to be around me, aren’t you?” 
You nod, sniffling away the more frustrated tears threatening to fall. 
“You’ve earned it.” he pets your cheek once more before the magical words fell from his lips. “Come sweetheart.” 
You nearly sob out in relief as you drop your head against his knee and pick up the pace of grinding against his shoe. Your shoulders shudder just as hard as your legs, your orgasm decimating your resolve. Crying out and heaving as you recover, the muffled sounds of Tywin’s voice coaxing you through it.  
He pulled you back to his lap after, rubbing your back as he put away his work for the night, making a call to have the car prepared. 
“I think I feel my organs now.” You groan against his shoulder, Tywin chuckles, shaking his head, wrapping his blazer around your shoulders before bundling you up. 
He walks out of his office, effortlessly carrying your smaller frame along, he turns to Cassandra’s desk, noting that she indeed looked exhausted. 
“Take your vacation days girl.” He orders as he walks to the elevator. 
“Night Cassandra,” you shoot her a wink over your shoulder. 
You almost doze away on his shoulder as you ride down to the parking, merely a few twitches at your fingertips. 
“Are we going to yours?” you murmur, looking up at him through half-closed eyes. He nods, placing you inside the town car before sternly turning to Meren. 
“The next time you choose to disobey my orders, a bullet will lodge itself within a place you may never find.”
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Taglist in the comments
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Ahhh, I’m so sorry how long this took to write. Minus the unnecessary things that have gone on for the past few days. My mojo really left me for a week or two but I’m here now, trying to get back into it.
Comments and Reblogs are appreciated.
Also my requests for one shots, this series and Bloody Baby are open, also stop by to my asks any time. I love ranting about my fics hehe.
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pinkykats-place · 10 months
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GoT DILF(s) x reader insert fics
Tumblr Recommendations
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Disclaimers!
Stories are NOT mine.
Some contain mature content.
Readers are mostly female.
Note: if you read any of these stories and enjoy them pls let the author know by rebloggung, liking or commenting on original post
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Alliance
Ned Stark x second wife! Reader
Four Part Series
Surviving || Series Masterlist 
{Ned Stark x Reader}
Summary: It was a classic romance. You were barren, his wife had passed, and you’d met through your father. It was a wonder the minstrels weren’t already singing songs about you.
The Secret Wife
Ned Stark x Fem!Reader Imagine
A Quiet Morning
Tywin Lannister x Female Reader
Summary: You enjoy a quiet morning with your Lord Husband
Under his mane 
Tywin Lannister x Baratheon!Fem!Reader 
Series Masterlist
Imagine Tywin Lannister visiting your chambers to fulfill his son’s duty at his place (smut)
Baby Lion
Tywin Lannister x pregnant!wife!Reader
Tywin Lannister being possessive and having jealous sex would include:
Longing
Pairing: Tywin Lannister x reader 
Request: good fluffy smut with Tywin Lannister… maybe him realizing that his feelings for the reader is more than just a political marriage
Warnings: political marriage/arranged marriage, older man x younger woman, soft smut, unprotected sex 
Repeat of History
Tywin Lannister x wife!Reader
Summary: when you go into labour, Tywin worries for your safety, remembering the death of his first wife
Trouble
Tywin x Wife!Reader
Summary: Tywin takes a second wife for a purely political alliance, and ends up with far more than he expected.
Series: Tywin x Reader
Summary: Imagine finding out you are marry Tywin Lannister after the deaths of your brother and Mother, Robb and Catelyn Stark.
The Lady Lion
Tywin x Wife!Reader
Fluffy Fic
In Time, the Lion Loves
Tywin Lannister x fem!Reader
Blessed with youth 
Tywin Lannister x Tyrell!Reader
https://www.tumblr.com/gotpineapple/186244280214/blessed-with-youth-tywin-lannister-x-tyrellreader?source=share
 
Betrothed to the Wrong Brother
Stannis Baratheon x Reader
Based on this request: reader is supposed to be set up with Robert, but while at Storms End falls for Stannis instead? 
Confession
Stannis Baratheon x fem!Reader
Summary: Stannis finally confesses his love for his wife
Belonging
Stannis Baratheon x Wife!Reader
Summary: Takes place around the time Robert was crowned, when Stannis and the Reader are married for less than a year. Robert’s drunkenness results in some jealousy and misunderstandings (and making up).
Steady
Stannis x Wife!Reader
Setting: just a year or two after Robert was crowned
An Injustice
Stannis Baratheon x reader
Summary: A lil one shot from a visiting Davos’s pov after Robert’s Rebellion. There’s more but I like the characterisation in this the best. 
Stannis x Arryn!Reader
Jealous kiss for our one true king, stannis
Stannis Baratheon x fem!Reader
headcanons on the relationship between Shireen Baratheon and stepmother!reader & on how the Baratheon household would change if the Reader was to marry Stannis
Headcanons for Stannis x Reader’s children
Playground (modern au)
Stannis Baratheon x fem!Reader
Summary: Reader is sister to Sandor, and meets Stannis at a playground. The reader has a toddler daughter, but the father has passed away. Shireen and the daughter start playing together, so Stannis and the reader start talking too. Soon they plan a play date and the things escalate. 
Imagine threatening to leave Roose and him letting it slip that he loves you (smut)
Roose being touch starved would include
A Northern Arrangement || Series
Roose Bolton x Reader
Imagine making a deal with Roose Bolton so he wont betray Robb and will actually warn Robb and everyone of the Frey’s impending betrayal.
Roose Bolton x Reader || Series 
Roose being gentle with you:
Losing your virginity to Roose Bolton would include:
Imagine being in a pitch-black castle with Roose Bolton.
NSFW Alphabet with Roose Bolton
My Innocent Snowdrop
Oberyn Martell x Stark!Reader
Summary: The eldest Stark girl is forced to marry Oberyn Martell as a political alliance made by Cersei, but what she does not know is that the Prince of Dorne is a very loving man who easily falls in love with her and cherishes her deeply.
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slavicdelight · 4 months
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The Last Embrace
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Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Lannister! OC
Summary: Lorelle, Tywin Lannister's youngest daughter, forms an unexpected alliance with Oberyn Martell after defeating him in a duel. Their love blossoms, but tragedy strikes when jealousy leads to everything falling apart.
Warnings: death, cursing, angst
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In the heart of the Westerlands, Tywin Lannister welcomed his youngest daughter into the world, a fierce and spirited girl named Lorelle. From the beginning, her fiery nature clashed with the traditional expectations of a lady born into such a prestigious family.
As Lorelle grew, her independent spirit grew with her, driving her further away from learning of noble etiquette. She abandoned needlework for the training yard, where she observed the art of swordsmanship. Tywin, torn between pride and concern, could only watch as her interest differed from other young noble ladies. Word of Lorelle's exceptional skill with sword spread through the Seven Kingdoms, reaching the ears of Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper of Dorne. Although he despised the Lannisters for what happened to his beloved sister Elia, he was curious if the rumours were true.
The first encounter between the two was marked by a clash of swords, or in this case - a spear and a sword. Each duel became a battleground for dominance, a fierce dance where neither was willing to yield.Oberyn's disdain for the Westerlands and its houses fueled the fire of their rivalry. In his eyes Lorelle was not just an opponent but a symbol of everything he despised about the realm.
Despite their hatered for each other, they decided to combine forces to travel together through Essos.The tension between them kept both nobles balanced on the egde.Yet, amidst the clashes, moments of understanding and mutual respect began to emerge.It wasn't until a decisive duel where Lorelle emerged triumphant that Oberyn's disdain began to shift. As he lay defeated, he finally acknowledge her skill. The dislike eventually evolved into a strange alliance, a bond forged on the edge of blades and the heat of their conflicting personalities.
During their tumultuous journey, Lorelle and Oberyn faced numerous challenges, each encounter adding layers to their complex relationship.One day, as they were riding through Pentos, a group of men attacked them. They were strong and quick. It was obvious that they’ve been trained to steal and kill. Thankfully, Oberyn's quick thinking and combat finesse saved Lorelle from an ambush, blurring the lines between adversary and ally. The tension that once defined their interactions slowly transformed into something more.
When Oberyn knelt before her, proposing a marriage with sincerity in his eyes, the tension reached its zenith. Tywin, recognizing the potential for an alliance, reluctantly agreed to their union. Lorelle became the Princess of Dorne, thrust into a political landscape that mirrored the complexities of her relationship with Oberyn.Yet, tragedy struck their already fragile union.
Ellaria Sand, fueled by jealousy and resentment, plotted against Lorelle. In a venomous act of betrayal, she poisoned the Princess of Dorne. As Lorelle's life slipped away, Oberyn's grief transformed into a burning desire for revenge, reigniting the tension between them in a different, more profound way. In a fit of righteous fury, Oberyn confronted Ellaria. The clash was brutal, mirroring the intensity of his battles with Lorelle.
In the end, justice was served, but the cost was high. Oberyn stood still after delivering avenging the woman he loved, a shattered man, his heart torn between the love he discovered and the unresolved tension that lingered between him and the memory of Lorelle.
In the aftermath, the halls of Sunspear echoed with a haunting silence. Oberyn, having avenged Lorelle, found himself with conflicting emotions. The memory of their fierce clashes lingered, intertwined with the love he discovered and the unresolved tension that defined their relationship.
As Princess of Dorne, Lorelle's absence left a void in the court. The alliances formed through her marriage hung in delicate balance. Oberyn, once fueled by a desire for revenge, now faced the aftermath of his actions. The people of Dorne witnessed a Red Viper who had lost his venom, a man torn between the love he found and the ghosts of his tumultuous past. The court of Sunspear whispered of Lorelle's legacy – a fiery princess who defied conventions, a skilled swordswoman who left a mark on the pages of history. Yet, the tragedy that befell her cast a shadow over the realm, a stark reminder of the fragility of alliances and the cost of vengeance.
Oberyn, haunted by the memories of Lorelle, retreated into solitude. The tension that once fueled their clashes now manifested as an internal struggle within him. The flames of revenge had consumed him, and in their wake, he was left with the ashes of regret.In the quiet corridors of Sunspear, Oberyn's gaze lingered on the places where he and Lorelle had faced both adversaries and each other. The sword that once clashed with hers now rested, a silent witness to the battles fought and the love lost.As the years passed, Dorne found itself in a delicate dance of politics and intrigue.
The memory of Lorelle became both a symbol of defiance and a cautionary tale. Oberyn, a once vibrant force, moved through the shadows of the court, a man forever marked by the flames that burned between him and the Princess of Dorne. And so, the tale of Lorelle and Oberyn became a legend – a story of love, rivalry, and the high cost of vengeance that echoed through the corridors of Sunspear, leaving behind a legacy as enduring as the ancient stones of the castle.
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A/N: This is a shorter story, but I hope you'll enjoy it just like the other ones.
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bamsywrites · 1 year
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Guilt (Tyrion Lannister x Reader)
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paring: Tyrion x Reader; Tywin x Reader
summary: Tyrion is consumed with guilt as he sees just how his actions have affected you
word count: idk but sure as fuck not 13.k Idk where I got that number from 🤦
tags: pregnant! reader, mentions of miscarriage/infant loss, pretty fucking huge age gaps mentioned. tywin doing tywin things. angsty with some hurt/comfort. there's a lot of plot building as i want to attempt to make this into a series. pining. future friends to lovers.
AN: this is my first time writing in a loooong fucking time. I am open to constructive criticism and feedback. I have plans on making this into a series so let me know if that would interest you. this scenario has been in my maladaptive daydreams for so long lol. Please let me know how you like it!
--
Tyrion watched you from his spot overlooking the river where the women were doing the washing for the day. An older woman was showing you the best methods for getting stains out from the fabrics of sheets and clothes, you watched with a furrowed brow and genuine curiosity from your seat on a large boulder. Tyrion had noticed this was a new behavior trend of yours. You'd go to the kitchens, the stables, the rivers, all to try and lend a hand or learn. Your noble birth made it so you never had to wash your clothes or clean your rooms or make your food. He'd observed that since arriving in Mereen, you almost seemed to be trying to repent of the sin of being born a noblewoman by doing the chores and duties of those most would consider beneath someone of your birth. Not that you ever thought that way.
Tyrion's eyes drifted down to your swollen belly which you were stroking softly as you watched the woman and he scoffed with a quick swig from a flask of whatever wine he was able to get his hands on. You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, evident by your size and the waddle to which you walked. Dany had been accommodating to your state by having someone around to assist you if need be and keeping a midwife on standby for the impending birth. The queen had been more forgiving than he could have hoped for when it came to the two of you. You had given a rather convincing speech when you had arrived after fleeing Kings Landing. He could still hear the words ring in his mind.
"Your Majesty, I was but a child when your father was overthrown and family murdered. I was a child still when I was betrothed. No choice in my life has ever been my own. I was sold like cattle to the highest bidder and forced to have his children so he could in turn ship them away and form alliances with lords and kings. Everything I have done has been to protect me and my children. All I ever will do is to protect my children. I want them to live a life better than mine and from what I have seen here you would be able to provide that more than any man in Westores currently fighting for the throne. For that, you will have my loyalty."
It was well-spoken and you stood tall while you said it, but he could see the fear in your eyes. How could he blame you? A pregnant woman far from home in the territory of someone who wanted her dead simply because of who she was forced to marry. Staying in the Red Keep wouldn't have bode well for you either, his sister had never been fond of you and with the death of his father, the castle suddenly became very dangerous for you.
Tyrion understood why Tywin wanted to make an alliance with your house. Your father was lord of a southern house that was known for its impressive feats on the field of battle, no one had ever defeated House ____ on the battlefield and most were met with devastating defeats when they were on horseback. The best tacticians Westores had ever seen either came from your house or were mentored by the lords of your house. Tywin wanted that alliance and he was always looking to further his family line but Jamie had made vows and Tywin would rather die than give Tyrion any claim to Casterly Rock. That left him to marry you, which he did. You were young. Very young. He remembered how scared you looked on your wedding day as his father covered you in a robe of Lannister Red.
You'd done your duty as a wife very well. 6 years since your wedding to his father and you'd had several pregnancies and two living children - daughters much to Tywins dismay. You bore him a son named Tytos but he fell asleep one night never to wake again. Tyrion remembered that day very well, he walked into the hall to see his father holding you as you sobbed, pressing a kiss to your head and looking as vulnerable as Tyrion had ever seen him. Tywin always seemed to respect you and held some possessiveness over the fact that you were his lady wife. You were spoiled by him as was expected, always in the finest dresses and jewelry. Tywin made an example of anyone who dared to disrespect you, even if that person was the boy king himself. He seemed to value your intellect and wit, finding bragging rights in your brains and beauty. A fact that drove Ceresi mad. Though Tyrion supposed, the way Tywin treats your daughters was an even bigger slight to the Queen Regent.
Trysta and Nataria.
Tywin doted on them more than he did you. It was made known behind closed doors that Tywin would keep putting babes in your belly until you gave him an "heir and a spare" but there was a light to his eyes when his youngest daughters were around that made it known he cared for them too. There was an affection there that Tyrion did not remember his father showing Ceresi or Jamie as children. A fact confirmed by the jealousy his sister had for the two young girls, Jamie had never made a comment on it but he enjoyed the company of your daughters very much.
They were very sweet girls, with your eyes but the signature Lannister hair. Trysta was the eldest at five years old, she was smart and sassy, a combination that always brought a smile to Tyrion's face. There was nothing like watching a noble lord be put in their place by a small girl in a pink dress, knowing that they dare not comment back for fear of facing her father's wrath. Nataria was younger, still not quite speaking in full sentences yet, and always wanting to be picked up by anyone who would take her. Tyrion would never forget walking into the tower of the hand to see her sat on Tywins lap with her head nuzzled into his chest as she napped. Tywin informed Tyrion that the babe you were carrying was making you ill and the handmaids were unable to get her to stop crying. He didn't look up from the papers scattered across his desk and his voice was as stern and emotionless as it always was. It was almost alien to see it, to see how much Tywin was capable of some form of care for his children. Tywin often made the comment that his first three children were disappointments and that he was going to make sure his next turned out differently.
You had made the smart choice to send the two girls to stay with your family after Jofferys murder. Kings Landing was not safe for them and both girls adored Tyrion. You had not wanted them to witness his trial or execution or to be brought into the middle of dangerous court politics. You probably would have joined them if Tywin had allowed it. Tyrion was sad he never got to say goodbye to them. He loved them as much as they loved him, always reading books or buying trinkets for them. He missed them dearly but knew you missed them more.
Especially today. It was Nataria's second name day.
Tyrion was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your laugh as you watched the children play in the water and their splashes of water soaking your dress and hair. He noticed that your laugh didn't quite reach your eyes and the guilt panged through him.
It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.
You were distracting yourself, he realized, from the pain of what today meant. The pain of not being with your children. The pain of not knowing when you will see them again. He couldn't imagine the pain in your heart. Almost like you knew what he was thinking, your eyes locked with his and he gave you a curt nod before standing and heading away from the river.
---
Later that night he saw you again, sat in the gardens of a courtyard lit by the stars, and a few torches spread over the area. There was a piece of parchment paper in your lap and your fingers were playing with a necklace around your neck. Tyrion noticed your beauty in the light of the stars. The way the flames from the torches flicked across your features. He always knew you were beautiful but it was dawning on him that you were more than beautiful. He sometimes found the air leaving his lungs if the light hit you right. The sound of your laugh, your voice, when he heard you sing it was like the whole world stood still. It wasn't fair, he thought, that someone as kind and smart and witty as you could also be so beautiful.
The sound of a muffled sob brought him out of his thoughts and he felt that searing guilt tear threw him once more.
It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.
His feet moved him through the courtyard and he sat next to you in silence. You quickly wiped at your eyes and shoved the paper, what Tyrion could now see was an old letter from your father about how your daughters were doing, into your dress. The two sat in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say. You'd always treated Tyrion with such respect and kindness and he'd returned the favor to you. You never let Tywin taint your view of him.
"You've been avoiding me," your voice cut through the silence.
It was true. He hadn't spoken more than a few sentences since defending you to the Queen when you were brought to her throne room. "And yet you have been watching my every move."
He nodded, eyes fixated on a particular patch of grass in the courtyard. "Always observant aren't you?" His voice was soft.
"You'd think someone of your size would be better at hiding but alas....."
Your comment made him laugh. The first laugh in a long time.
"Spying is not my strong suit, I must admit. Drinking, books, and whores are my real talents." His eyes traveled over to you and he noticed your small smile.
Your smile shouldn't cause him to feel the way he was.
The two of you sat in silence for a long while after that. It wasn't an awkward silence, neither of you seemed to know how to get the thoughts flowing through your head to form into words. There was so much to say, so much to explain. You broke first.
"I miss them," Your voice wavered and your lip trembled. "I miss them so. It feels as though my heart has been ripped out of my chest." The tears started to fall all at once, Tyrion swore he could hear them hit the ground like rain.
It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault
"Every time the babe inside me moves, I remember how it felt to feel them move too. I think of them from the moment I wake to the moment I sleep and then I dream of them. Are they happy? Are they safe? Where are they? When will I see them?" You rambled through the thickness of your tears, your fingers gripping tightly at the fabric of your dress.
Tyrion hesitantly grabbed your hand in his, afraid you'd hurt yourself and gave it a small squeeze.
"Your sister...Oh, your sister...she hates them. She hates me. She'll have them killed. I can't...I can't.." you choked on sob after sob
He said your name softly and moved to stand in front of you so he could look into your eyes. The tears falling down your cheeks and hitting the skirt of your dress broke his heart.
It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault
"Ceresi is many things. A hateful bitch is among one of her most prominent attributes. But, she is not stupid enough to wage war on your family. Her hatred for me consumes her. Last I heard they think I kidnapped you." He almost laughed bitterly at the thought. Remembering how he rushed you out of The Red Keep, it wasn't too far from the truth. "And despite even with all of that aside. Do you think Jamie would let her? Let her kill your children? Our sisters?" In truth, he had no idea what would happen but he had to hope. He had to have faith that his choice wouldn't lead to the fatalities of you and your daughters.
Your arms quickly wrapped around him and your face nuzzled into his neck. For a moment he just stood there in shock, this was the closest you'd ever been to him and he found himself enamored with how you smelt and soft you felt. But soon he ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. Tyrion could feel your hot tears on his shoulder and the mantra repeated in his head.
It's your fault. It's your fault. It's your fault.
"I'm so fucking sorry," He whispered into your hair. "I'm so sorry."
You pulled away and he found himself missing your warmth. He told himself it was because he wasn't used to such interaction, which wasn't a lie, but there was a stirring deep within him that he had to push down and hide. That would only bring him more shame and heartbreak and insult you further than he already has.
"All my life, my father hated me for killing my mother and for being a dwarf. He loathed my very existence. The only thing that kept me alive was my name. I was a Lannister. And then he lets me be led like a lamb to slaughter for a murder he knew I didn't commit. My only option is death or going to The Wall, there's not much difference there as people seem to think. He takes the woman I love and turns her against me, having her lie to all of Kings Landing. And then I find he's fucking her..." Tears were starting to well in his eyes now as he remembered Shae and how it felt to find her in his father's bed. "I didn't think about the consequences. Not for you or the girls until after it was done."
He remembered how the lamp light flickered across your face as you stood there, hand on your belly and mouth agape as he held the crossbow. He remembered how it felt to have the realization slap him in the face. Tywin had become fond of using you to belittle Cerasi, often saying you were more worthy to be a Lannister than she was. Cerasi was jealous of how Tywin seemed to care for and respect you. You wouldn't last long at The Red Keep. Tyrion remembered the scared look in your eyes as he took your wrist in a harsh grasp and led you through the corridors to where he was to meet Varys.
He was pulled from his memories when he could feel your fingertips lightly brush away his tears. "It's my fault," Tyrion's voice broke as he said those words to you, "and I can never express how sorry I am."
You swallowed thickly and looked at him for a moment before your eyes drifted up to the night sky. You were quiet again and this time the silence was thick and heavy. Tyrion could see your brain working hard to formulate thoughts and feelings into words.
"I was 15 when I was betrothed to Tywin," You said softly, your eyes still on the stars. "My father was so excited. The Lannisters would make a great ally and I was the only daughter he had to offer. For two years I waited, knowing that I was to be married to a man who rode into battle with my grandfather. It was the day after my 17th name day that we were wed. Within a year I had Trysta." Your tongue peaked out to wet your lips. "Tywin was not a moral man. He was not a good man. He was a smart man. An ambitious man. But not a good one. I know he respected me, I think he may have cared for me in his own complicated way. I know he cared for our children. But he was old and mean and arrogant."
Tyrion was silent as you spoke, you two had talked in the past for hours about books and history but you never quite opened up about your relationship with his father. Your eyes fell down to your lap and you picked at a loose string.
"I may be cursed for thinking it but I do not miss him. I miss my home. I miss Casterly Rock. I miss the sea and the beach. I miss Trysta and Nataria. But I do not miss Tywin. I am not naive enough to think that I will ever experience what it's like to be loved...to marry for love. That's not a reality for high-born women but I do hope the next time I'm married off it's to someone who is less of an ass."
Tyrion stood there for a moment and then took your face into his hands, "I promise you by whatever Gods are listening that I will get you back home. Back to your children. Or I will die trying." And he meant it.
You simply nodded. He took his seat next to you, his hand resting atop yours. The two of you sat there in a peaceful silence looking at the stars with his hand on yours and you weren't sure how long for. It could have been 15 minutes or two hours. When Tyrion noticed your head starting to bob and your eyes struggled to stay open, he stood up and silently offered you his arm.
The walk to your room was quiet. He had more he wanted to say to you but he knew this was not the time to say it. Once he got to your door he didn't know what to say, he didn't know if he should say anything. He cleared his throat and rested his arm at his side.
"If you, uhm, if you need me...." His voice trailed off.
"I know," you nodded, "thank you." You placed a soft kiss on his forehead before disappearing into your room.
Tyrion stood there for a moment, frustration rushing over him like waves. It was happening. He could feel the feeling creep into his heart: he was falling in love with the woman he widowed and he wasn't sure how to stop it.
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rax-writes · 8 months
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↬ the morning after
Tywin Lannister x Reader
Notes: Reader is a Stark but no physical description is mentioned. Based on an idea that came to me, as a result of the Tywin brainrot I've been experiencing.
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The suggestion of your marriage to Tywin Lannister had come as quite a shock to the entire Stark family.
Lord Eddard had sputtered out a weak argument, too stunned to form a compelling rebuttal on the spot, but King Robert had waved his hand and said, "Look, I know he's old, but he needs more heirs. Jamie swore an oath, and he won't let Casterly Rock go to Tyrion. There's two dozen lords who are either closer to her in age, or more good-looking, but politically, is there any better option for your daughter than Tywin fucking Lannister? He's Warden of the West, Lord of Casterly Rock, and the richest man in the Seven Kingdoms. She’d be wealthy, protected, and living in the Keep with you and your other daughters."
King Robert had then assured you that you were allowed to reject the proposal if you wished. However, he was not wrong about it being a good match, so you consented to the union. You heard whispers of Tywin being furious with the King for suggesting he take a second wife, but once again, no one could deny that the King was right – Tywin needed more heirs.
So, given your stipulation that you marry in the Godswood, in addition to a small ceremony in the Sept of Baelor, you found yourself wedded to the infamous Tywin Lannister within a few days.
It scared the shit out of you.
And your family.
Even more so when you did not join everyone for breakfast the morning after your wedding.
Tywin had refused a bedding ceremony, so no one had a clue what went on after you and your new lord husband left the feast. But seeing Tywin approach the breakfast table alone the next morning sent a chill down the spines of Lord Eddard, Jon, Robb, and even Theon.
Discreetly, Ned grabbed Robb by the upper arm before the boy could leave the table, and told him to go check on you. Robb nodded, having been planning to anyway, and found that he was quickly followed by Jon and Theon – the latter disguising his worry as a curiosity to know whether "the old fuck could still get it up or not."
All three of the young men braced themselves for a gruesome, heart-wrenching sight as they opened the door to Tywin's chambers after you granted them entry – only to find you sitting cross-legged on the bed, smiling at them.
"Good morning, boys."
"Um… good morning," Robb said hesitantly, confused but pleasantly surprised at the state of you.
"I suspected some concern over my absence at breakfast, but I didn't anticipate a search party," you jested, laughing lightly.
Both Robb and Jon merely stared at you, taking in the sight of your messy hair and the three round, rosy bruises on your neck and collarbone, mentally assessing you for any cause for concern. Ultimately, they found nothing, but feared that you were merely putting on a brave face for them.
"Alright, let's cut the shit," Theon announced, shoving past his companions and leaning against the bedpost, arms crossed and grinning at you. "How was it? Did he force himself on you? Can the old man still get it up? Did he have a nap halfway through the act?"
The way he tried to cover up his worried questioning with jokes did not go unnoticed, but you chose to not comment on it.
"It was, uh…. Well, it was fine, let's leave it at that," you replied with a small chuckle, trying to ignore the fact that your face grew red.
"Absolutely fucking not," Theon protested, looking even more intrigued now. "You didn't even answer a single one of my questions. I'll die of curiosity if I don't get some details."
"Look, we don't need… details. We just want to make sure he didn't force himself on you, and that you're alright," Robb explained, and Jon nodded.
"He did not force himself on me. He was a gentleman about it," you assured your brothers. They both breathed sighs of relief, and their shoulders visibly relaxed.
However, before they could relax fully, you turned to Theon and briskly whispered, "I came four times."
"You what?" Jon shrieked, eyes wide and mouth agape, as Robb let out an exaggerated gag beside him. Theon doubled over in a fit of laughter, having to hold the bedpost to keep himself upright.
"You've got to be fucking joking," Theon managed to wheeze, still laughing.
"Definitely not. Now, all of you run along so I can get dressed," you said, standing to shoo your retching brothers and hysterical friend out of the room, closing the door behind them with a laugh.
sequel ↠ when night falls
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rarepears · 5 months
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Wait. Just had a thought. How do the citizens of Westeros understand and explain away when hens suddenly start turning into roosters? Or other such transformations between genders?
Is the answer going to be… blame it on Sung Jinwoo?
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adarkandmagicalforest · 5 months
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shout out who theyre patrons of
jaehaerys is almost definitely saeras just to watch out for her he swears
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dragons-and-handcuffs · 7 months
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Tywin’s old enough to be her grandfather but Stark!Reader can’t help but shiver as he folds her into a mating press and whispers in her ear that he is going to breed her full of his heirs
Imagine you wearing a northern dress, with the stark color and Tywin just hate it. He is angry and lustful. He pulls you towards him, tells you how you are not allowed to wear those colors as he undress you. You should be fighting him but you can't. He touches you, feel you up, tells you how you belong to him now. You are beyond embarrassed that you are getting wet. How can your body betray you, especially for an enemy of house Stark. Imagine him pressing you down and fucking you as he whispers how he will fill you up with his seeds and make you breed Lannisters. I feel like he will also fuck you in front of a mirror and force you to watch, make you realize that he owns you. I also feel like if there is so much age gap he would definitely punish you if you do something wrong, maybe spank you till he believes you are truly sorry. And once you get pregnant everyone will know that you are no longer a stark, especially when you are wearing the red and gold dresses which
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minsyal · 2 years
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Lovers Quarrel
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Tywin x Reader
Summary: The lovers are at odds about something that's put a large rift in the family - Tyrion's trial.
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The looming presence of an unspoken topic hovered around the Red Keep at all hours of the day. In the morn when the sun had barely peeked over the horizon of the Narrow Sea, it remained. When she would sit at the table, full of lavish fruits and cheeses to dine with her beloved, it remained. As the court adjourned and people began to return to their mundane lives bustling about the many corridors and halls, it remained.
It wouldn’t leave. It was the ugly topic of uncomfortable family drama that everyone knew about, but nobody was willing to speak to. Tyrion was incarcerated.
While not her son by blood, he was made her stepson after she had been wed to his father, Tywin Lannister. The old lion of Casterly Rock had accepted a marriage request after her father had been more than generous with his grain reserves in the last winter. Shortly after the wedding and subsequent consummation, it was relayed to the aged man that his wife was unable to bear children. But by that point, she had won his heart and he decided to forego the idea of another heir in favor of keeping his young wife.
When he had won the Battle of Blackwater Bay, and then the War of Five Kings, she rejoiced. Her heart swelled at the parchment that had been sent informing her that she would be escorted to Kings Landing to live with her lord husband, the new Hand of the King. She felt everything in her world falling into place as she entered the Red Keep’s gates to be greeted by the magnificent audience of her love. But perfection never lasted.
His discontent for his son grew with each passing day as Tyrion inserted himself into political matters. He voiced these thoughts freely to her as the two of them would lie in the darkness of night. It had been many moons since the last time she attempted to squelch the fighting between father and son, but even with her soft words of reason, the man was insistent on his feelings. ‘He only lives because he is a Lannister.’ Tywin would continually repeat as he brushed a warm calloused hand down her shoulder to the small of her back. He hated the man, and in his heart of hearts he knew that the man likely hated him too.
“I already told you I do not think the trial is an appropriate use of your time.” The knife Tywin held in his hand scratched against the glass plate he ate from. A buffet for two of aged cheeses, fresh fruits, and crackling bread sat in front of the two of them.
“He is my step-son as much as he is your son.” She retaliated in a calmed tone, graciously accepting the portion of bread he had cut for her. “I feel as though my presence is necessary.”
Tywin had a hard time arguing with his wife. The two had rarely quarreled, but this was the one thing they refused to see eye to eye on. In public, it was pertinent that they present the perfect and ideal lifestyle. It was a display of the Lannister’s power; a display of how nothing could go wrong in their lives when they lived united.
“Tyrion will only assume your stance on the matter as siding with me.” He broke a piece of hard cheese from its block and held it out to her, pleased when she continued to eat as they usually did. “He will grow to resent you more than he already does.”
She crinkled her nose at the strong wine that was served, disliking the way it scorched her throat as the alcoholic beverage slid down her tongue. “Tyrion doesn’t resent me.”
Tywin responded with the curious raise of his brow, his elbow shifted to his forearm as he rested against the black-painted arm of the chair and looked to his wife. “Does he not?” He shook his head after a short sigh of exhaustion escaped his lips. “I’ve heard differently.”
“He dislikes you for taking a wife younger than he and for not casting me aside when you found out I could not give you any children. He knows it not my doing or my fault.”
He thought for a moment, narrowing his eyes as he swiped his tongue across the back of his teeth. She was right, but that did not make the sentiment any different. For, if Tyrion truly did not resent his stepmother, he would hold his tongue more often when speaking about her. “I could cast you aside and take another if that is what you wish.”
“Your jests are most unappreciated, lord husband.” She replied without a moment of contemplation, her quick wit being one of the things he favored in his wife.
The two were interrupted by the sudden appearance of footsteps echoing off the walls, someone heading in their direction. Drawn from their conversation, they watched as the unmistakable golden garb of the kingsguard attire strut from round the corner, followed swiftly by a cape of white that flowed freely in the wind his walk created. “Father.” Jaime called, stopping abruptly at the sight of his wife. “Stepmother.” He bowed, addressing the younger woman.
“Jaime.” She replied, always happy to have the company of her extended family.
“I hope that I’m not interrupting.” He started, coming to a halt at the edge of the circular table that the couple sat at. Tywin looked to his wife for confirmation that their discussion was over, finding it in her eyes as he gave a curt nod and directed his attention back to his son. “I wanted to discuss the trial.”
She could see the slight annoyance that danced across her husband’s face in that moment. He hid it well, continuing to hold the gaze of his equally confident son. His body remained pointed in her direction, though, unwilling to fully face him. “Go on.” He beckoned as Jaime’s eyes flickered to the woman at his side. “Anything said to me can be said in the presence of my wife.”
Jaime drew his bottom lip between his teeth, deciding this was his one chance to get his thoughts out on the table. “You’ve condemned your son to death.” He accused, forcing his father to give a slight roll of his eyes.
“I’ve condemned no one, the trial is not over.” Tywin argued, chest now in line with Jaime’s who stood tall as he disagreed with his father. She watched the two, choosing to remain silent as she spread a soft cheese fragranced with honey and thyme onto a piece of bread.
“It’s not a trail, it’s a farce. Cersei has manipulated everything, and you know it.” His tone grew in frustration, bothered by the way his father continued his meal as if nothing were wrong.
“I know nothing of the sort” Tywin dismissed.
“You’ve always hated Tyrion.”
“He killed his king.”
“As did I.” Jaime’s voice was strong, even in the storm that his father cast upon him. He stood tall and proud, unbending to the watchful glare of the man who sat before him. “Do you know the last order the Mad King gave me? To bring him your head. I saved your life so you could murder my brother.”
Tywin brushed another piece of torn bread through the crumbs of food that had landed upon his plate. His disdain for his other son was beginning to show in the way his jaw tensed, and his eyes remained downcast, out of Jaime’s radar. “It wont be murder, it’ll be justice.”
“Justice?”
“I’m performing my sworn duty as Hand of the King. If Tyrion is found guilty, he’ll be punished accordingly.” He handed a picked fruit to his wife, attempting to draw his focus to the woman who always managed to calm the simmering rage that built up in the pit of his stomach. She was the constant in his life. Others were willing to give him anything he wanted, and yet, while she could not bring him another heir, she brought him peace.
“He’ll be executed.” The dark cloud that was Jaime reappeared in his once shining day, reminding him of his presence as he tore his eyes from his wife.
“No,” he disagreed, “he’ll be punished accordingly.”
“Once you said family is what lives on – all that lives on.” Jaime took a few calculated steps closer to the table, but not enough to touch it or even graze it with the fabric that covered his thighs. “You told me about a dynasty that would last a thousand years. What happens to your dynasty when Tyrion dies? (Y/n) cannot give you the children you want.” He earned himself a shotty glare from the side of Tywin’s eyes as he placed a comforting hand on her leg. “I’m a Kingsguard, forbidden by oath to carry on the family line.”
“I’m well aware of your oath, and you needn’t remind us.” Tywin’s thumb swiped itself back and forth across her thigh in a metrical rhythm, much like that of an orchestra’s conductor.
Jaime cocked his head backward, knowing where he intended on going with the conversation. While hurting his stepmother’s feelings was not something he wished to do, it was an unfortunate product of their dialogue. “What happens to your name? Who carries the lion banner into future battles? Your nephews? Lancel Lannister? Others whose names I don’t even remember?”
“What happens to my dynasty if I spare the life of my grandsons’ killer?”
Tywin could feel the rift growing between himself and his children. The strong wills that he had instilled in them were only causing more and more disagreements between the bunch as they aged. Each had their own opinions on his actions and were never fearful to voice them. The biggest dispute came when he chose to marry (Y/n). All of them were avidly against him being with a younger woman, younger than all of them.
“It survives, through me.” Tywin’s melodic thumb stopped rubbing her thigh, instead he withdrew and propped his elbows on the table. His interest was piqued, displayed in the way he leaned forward to ensure he didn’t miss a word that fell from Jaime’s lips. “I’ll leave the Kingsguard and take my place as your son and heir if you let Tyrion live.”
“Done.” Tywin agreed, not needing a second to consider what his son had just proposed. It would give him everything he wanted and everything he assumed he would not have. “When the testimony is concluded and the guilty verdict rendered, Tyrion will be given the chance to speak. He’ll plead for mercy. I’ll allow him to join the Night’s Watch. In three days’ time, he’ll depart for Castle Black and live out his days at the wall. You’ll remove your white cloak immediately. You will leave Kings Landing to pursue your rightful place at Casterly Rock. You’ll marry a suitable woman and father children named Lannister. And you’ll never turn your back on the family again.”
Jaime seemed speechless at how quickly his father bowed to his request, but still replied. “You have my word.”
‘And you have mine.”  
Jaime left immediately without any more dispute, leaving the couple to their meal.
She sat, watching the turmoil that battled on his face. The sun cast deep shadows across the curvature of his cheek, outlining the way he hollowed them from the hidden anguish he concealed. “I’m sorry.” She finally said in a meek tone, said so silently that he questioned if he heard her correctly.
“For what?”
“The family feels more divided than it ever has since I joined.” She recalled the day that the news of her chances of fertility was given to the two of them, the way his shoulders pushed downward, and his head tilted upward slightly. He was torn between two paths, and yet he chose the one that many advised against. Perhaps, Lord Lannister had a heart in his body after all.
The same look of surprise was painted across his features yet again as he eyed the woman sat at his side. He extended his hand in her direction, drawing a gentle touch to the edge of her jaw as he stroked a soft finger across the apple of her cheek. “For now, we must only worry for ourselves and what the coming days may bring, dear wife.”
Tyrion’s trial continued with one of combat, after he angrily demanded one. Everyone in the audience awaited, knowing who would be named for the other side. The Mountain was prepared for any man thrown in his direction, an unwavering and unmoving beast of a man. He instilled a deep-rooted fear in all those who were unfortunate enough to get on his bad side. While (Y/n) never enjoyed the unrestrained lustful gaze he gave, even in Tywin’s presence, she knew he would never dare to lay even a finger on her. He was fervently loyal to the Lannister name and continued to serve the family even as he committed progressively worse deeds.
“Jaime.” Lady Lannister called out to her stepson as he marched from the Tower of the Hand where he had surely just been speaking to his father regarding Tyrion.
He spotted her immediately, stilling in his step as she approached. He had never had an issue with the woman, he worried not of what his father chose to do the vast majority of the time. Though, he did find himself defending her when the other children aired their grievances to him about her. Cersei was vocal in her distaste for the woman, seeing no reason for a stepmother when she could not supply them any new siblings. Tyrion was annoyed with the woman as she was easily accepted by his father despite her malfunctions. “Lady (Y/n).”
“Why didn’t he take the deal?” Her voice waivered, the slight crackle of unease in her tone. “Tywin agreed, he could have lived.”
Jaime hated the way his family was falling apart. He had stuck out his neck for his younger brother, ready to renounce his place and leave what he had known since he was young. Yet, Tyrion let his anger get the best of him and threw it all away. “Pride, I suppose.”
“Are you going to speak to him?”
The nod of his head answered her question.
“Will you take him this?” She revealed a small clear bottle filled with crimson liquid. “I promise it’s just wine. I imagine he’s losing his mind without it.”
It was endearing, he thought. The way she tried desperately to dote on the children like any mother would despite her being younger. She had taken good care of those around her, often being criticized for her kindness. “I’ll see to it that he gets this.”
“Thank you.”
Her legs carried her past Jaime. Beginning up the staircase, he added, “and (Y/n), do try to talk some sense into my father.”
“I always do.” She disappeared behind the winding wall of stairs.
~~~*~~~
“Lord husband.” Tywin’s wife called as she entered their shared chamber. When she had first arrived in the Red Keep, an adjoining room had been prepared for her, but it fastly went unused as the two fell back into their routine of togetherness.
He sat behind his desk, a hand resting against his forehead as he looked over the growing stack of scrolls that piled as each day came and went. The workhorse he was did not allow the man a moments rest. It seemed he was always either working with no reprieve.
“You know there is no need for such titles when we are alone.” He leant back in his chair and let out a fitful sigh. “Come to lecture me on the fate of my dear son?”
She shook her head and crossed the room, the elegant hem of her rich velvet dress flounced behind her. “I did just see Jaime in the hall. Can I presume that is what he just did?”
“You can.” He replied, adjusting his jaw. “He tried… rather unsuccessfully. Go on, then.” Tywin allowed himself to slouch in his seat, his legs were kicked out comfortably in front of him. “Convince me.”
“There is no convincing what is up to the gods now… and as much as I would not like to see him dead, I fear that it is almost inevitable at this point.” She frowned. “Is there no room for him to revoke his request?”
“No.”
“None at all?”
“No.”
“Tywin, you must find it somewhere in your heart to spare him.”
“He is a fool for his outburst today, and he will be served his justice in due time.”
“He is one of your two sons; without him Jaime will remain a Kingsguard. You will have no heirs to Casterly Rock.”
“I’d have heirs if it weren’t for your malformation.” His voice rose the same way it did earlier when he grew angry with Jaime. “I should have cast you aside and taken another wife the moment the maester came through our doors.” The words shot through her body, leaving behind unmendable wounds. “I’m done speaking to this.”
The air in the room thickened as the fire’s fuel exploded, sending it into a full blaze. She felt her lungs crumble as a shiver ran up her spine. He had always acted like it was no problem to him, but there was no mistaking the words that escaped his lips. His eyes were hardened, remaining that way even as hers filled with salted tears. The small squeeze of her fingers in front of her body reminded her she was truly living through this moment. “Yes, my lord.” She drew her lip between her teeth in a veiled attempt at hiding the way it wobbled. “Goodnight, my lord.”
His gaze followed her as she fled from the room, heading off beyond the large wooden doors that kept them protected at night. He should have gone after her – apologized for his hurtful words, but instead he blew out the candles, extinguished the lanterns, and changed for bed.
He would deal with it in the morning.
~~~*~~~
Waking in the adjoining room felt odd. There was no burning fireplace in the corner of the room, no candles to illuminate the dark shadows, and no warmth from the opposite side of the large bed. It was cold, no sign of anyone else joining her late in the night. She had fallen into a fitful sleep, ruining the neat folding of the side of the bed she had slept on.
Everything she ate that day refused to stay down. Nothing could tame the aching storm that rumbled in her stomach. Her handmaiden was surprised to find her in the other room, but acted quickly as she called for the maester. An herbal tea of mint and woodworm was brewed for her stomach pains, another of coriander and lemon to dissuade her fever.
Another day of bed rest, and she was insistent that it was time to free her from the pillowy prison. Tywin had left her be as he cooled off from their argument and prepared for Tyrion’s trial. She was explicitly told to not attend, but having the Lannister’s steadfast approach to life, she decided to come anyway.
The crowds were in abundance for the battle, curious to see how Oberyn Martell would stand against Gregor Clegane. Rarely did a man make it out alive in a battle with him, in fact – she could not recall a time anyone ever came out victorious. Tywin’s frustration was obvious in the way he motioned tensely for another chair to be brought for his wife. He did not like her seeing such events.
Beneath the tented sheet of red, outlined with golden tassels and ornate embroidery, sat members of the small council along with the Lannister family. She was seated next to Jaime, much to the disdain of Cersei who was positioned in the middle next to Tywin. The battle between the two men was short in duration. Oberyn showed signs of winning, but let his gloating get the best of him as he restrained himself from giving Clegane a final blow. His arrogance was his downfall, his insistence on Clegane admitting to killing his sister overcame the real reason he was in the melee. With an easy swipe of his arm, Clegane had pinned the smaller man beneath him.
(Y/n) had not bore witness to such an event before, exemplified by the way her eyes widened as Clegane dug his fingers into Oberyn’s eyes. Her hand shot to the arm rest, gripping tightly as Jaime took notice. Quickly, he turned and held a shielding hand to her face, moving her line of vision to the side of his head as the guttural scream of Ellaria Sand echoed into Blackwater Bay. She was glad nothing stayed in her stomach, as she surely would have lost it in that moment.
“Don’t look.” Jaime instructed as Tywin stood and rendered a guilty verdict to Tyrion. “Look at me.” He continued, rising to stand as he kept his hand attacked to her cheekbone. “You don’t want to see that.”
Only when the two had made it to the staircase that led from the amphitheater did he allow his hand to drop. “Why did you come?” He wasn’t asking in an accusatory way, instead one that was filled with concern for his stepmother.
She took a calming breath, but was interrupted by Tywin who had started searching for them as soon as the crowd was dismissed. “I was just about to ask the same question.”
Tywin stood behind her, cloaked in a tunic of black leather with grey embellishments down the front, the golden hand of the king pin was attached to his collar. “If we are to be a family, how can we present ourselves as such if one member is absent?”
He cocked his head back for a moment, pleased with her response. “I suppose you make a point.” Dismissing Jaime, he took her arm in his and began to lead her back to the Tower of the Hand. “But that will be the last one you witness.”
“Why?”
“I heard you’ve had difficulty keeping your food in your stomach.” He patted a gloved hand to her arm. “I do not think that seeing a man’s insides aids in your struggles.”
Tyrion was set to be executed the following day, and Tywin – while unhappy about it – had insisted she attend, and then and only then would it be the final fit of violence she attended. ‘It is important that we stay together, now more than ever.’ He told his wife as they dined together.
“How will he die?” He placed a piece of bread in her hand and began cutting into the chunks of meat in the oxtail soup he had requested to be still her bubbling insides.
“Beheading.” Tywin dipped a spoon into the bowl, the brown liquid quickly filling it as he lifted it to his lips to cool the soup. “Here.”
The hearty broth was spiced with fresh parsley and sage, warmed by the peppery cinnamon and cloves that floated in the bowl. It was the first thing she had been able to keep down in days. The complex earthy flavor of saffron kissed the tender meat and vegetables that melted in her mouth.
“I’m sorry.” He cut the silence that fell over the lovers. “I didn’t mean what I said.”
It was a rare moment of vulnerability in the old lion. He lived without regrets, and words of apology were foreign to his assured lips. It took a lot for him to admit wrongdoing, and she knew that. With a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, the lovers quarrel was over. The two were whole again.
The night’s depth knew no boundaries as they danced among the sheets of their lush bed. Heated groans and whispered promises of tomorrow filled the air that was ten degrees cooler just beyond their bed. His hands roamed her body, suddenly finding the swell of her lower abdomen beneath the palm of his hand. He pulled away from her kiss, drawing confusion until he cupped his hand over the puff, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. He had won, he thought. In spite of losing an heir with Tyrion’s soon death, he was gaining one from a woman who was told she was infertile.
“You’re with child.” He lifted her to sit lazily over his lap as his back hit the darkened wooden headboard. “That explains your sickness.”
“That’s impossible.” She said, only believing once her hand grazed over her stomach.
“We will have to make preparations for the newest Lannister.”
He felt excitement course through his veins for the first time in forever. His beautiful young wife would bear another child for him, and they would continue on the family dynasty. Tywin had been at odds with the gods for many years, but for once he found himself thanking them. They had delivered him a gift: a wife who took him as he was, and a new chance at life.
The moon rose further into the obsidian night sky, hiding the twinkling stars as it moved in a predetermined waltz. She woke to the sound of the door creaking, light footsteps falling upon the floor. Blankets tossed as she rolled to her side, stretching an arm out to find her husband missing from his side of the bed.
“Tywin?” Her voice was scratchy and full of sleep.
The footsteps stopped, before quickly retreating with the slam of their door. Her body startled fully awake as she sat up and surveyed the empty room. Tywin was gone, and whoever had just entered their room was surely still lurking about in the hall. A thin silk nightgown was all that was easily available, as lacing up an entire day dress would take too long. She slipped it over her head and made for the door, the soft patter of her bare feet against the floor disappeared down the hall.
An uncomfortable grunt caught her attention as she turned a corner in the direction of his privy. Standing in the torch illuminated hall was Tyrion, a crossbow in his hand. He walked slowly back to a pile of clawed arrows that laid a few feet from where he once stood. Only then did his eye catch sight of the fearful woman who clutched desperately at the fabric of her clothing. She was indecent, he thought, but more so than when he had been in Tywin’s room minutes before.
“Tyrion?” Her voice was shaking, from the chilled night or from the crossbow and painted groaning he wasn’t sure.
“Quiet.” Tyrion racked another arrow into his bow, holding so that the tip of the arrow was aimed at her body. “Go back to bed.” His instructions came slowly.
“What are you doing?” She took a hesitant step forward, only for him to train his bow more precisely at her. “Tywin?”
The groaning continued from the privy, the sounds of her husband caused her to continue forward. Tyrion spun suddenly, aiming the bow back at his father who was attempting to get up. “(Y/n), run and alert the guards.” Tywin’s voice bounced from the curved wall.
“Tyrion, please. Let him go. You can still leave Kings Landing.”
“(Y/n), go.” Tyrion instructed.
“Tyrion, please! Let him live, he’s your father, you’re his son.” She was begging now, tears freely flowing down her cheeks. The wetness shone brightly in the torches light; her eyes were beginning to turn red with ache.
“(Y/n), go.” She could not see her husband, but she could hear the intense pain he was in. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to run to him, to hold him and tell him that all would be right. “Please, go.” The word ‘please’ took Tyrion by surprise. His father was heartless in his eyes and would never bow to anyone – especially a woman.
“Go.” Tyrion repeated his father’s words.
Without a second of faltering, she decided to direct her target to the crossbow that Tyrion still had trained on Tywin. He would kill him if she left, and she could not imagine a world without him. She would be remarried and would struggle to find someone to treat her as well as he given her health. He was the love of her life, not initially, but the two grew stronger with each passing day. She was the soft spot in Tywin’s stone-cold heart.
As she lunged for the crossbow, hoping Tyrion’s focus would remain on his father long enough for her to act, he spun and let the arrow fly.
A horrible thud to the floor caused Tywin to gain a sudden rush of adrenaline. He pushed himself from his seated position, feet giving out from beneath him as he caught sight of his wife on the frigid floor. An arrow protruded from her neck, a warm pool of blood surrounded her body, and the bright excitement she had in her eyes hours before was gone.
She was just a ghost now, unblinking and unmoving. He felt years of rage bursting from his chest as he tore his wild eyes from his dead lover. Tyrion had taken one from him before, and now he had taken the other. To Tywin, he was a curse sent to punish him for all his cruelty in the past. And punish him he did.
His fingers grazed over hers from her outstretched arm, the heat of life still present in her cooling body.
The last thing he felt was another arrow stabbing through his chest, further breaking an already broken heart.
The last thing he heard was the echoing of footsteps as Tyrion ran from the scene, deserting his father to die with his already dead lover.
The last thing he saw were the unfocused eyes of a woman who gave him everything he ever wanted.
The great Tywin Lannister was dead.
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