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themotherofblood · 9 months

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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

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.”

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.”

Taglist in the comments

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.

#tywinlannisterxyou #tywin lannister x you #tywin lannister x oc #tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader smut #tywin imagine #tywin lannister smut #tywin x reader #tywin lannister x reader #mafia tywin #mafia!tywin Lannister #lion’s grasp series #ruie writes #game of thrones au #game of thrones fanfiction #tywin:got #house lannister

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zoyazenik · 3 months

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⏤ that is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

taglist 🦋: @dragonsbone, @kiara-carrera, @fleetwoodmcs, @dio-nysvs @purpleyearning, @villanele, @daisyjohvson, @arrthurpendragon, @aaudace, @julianblackthcrns, @kentaroranda @megdonnellys, @anotherunreadblog, @moireia, @luucypevensie, @chlobenet, @eddysocs, @phoebestarks, @stareyedplanet, @raith-way, @jvstjewels, @eddiemunscns, @impales, @darkwolf76, @fakedatings, @daughter-of-melpomene

[want to be added or removed?]

#fyeahgameofthronesocs #fyeahgotocs #ocappreciation #asoiaf oc #ochub #allaboutocs #tywin lannister x oc #game of thrones oc #got ocs #myranda arryn #tywin x myranda #**#*intro

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fromtheboundlesssea · 1 year

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Princess Celia Targaryen was the wife of Lord Tywin Lannister and mother of his children. Although she is remembered for the love and devotion shown to her by her children, little remains of the lady’s inner life as much of her time as acting Lady of Casterly Rock was lost in a fire at the Citadel. Her son did not keep records of his father after his death and thus Princess Celia’s accomplishments are measured by the achievements of her children. What role she might have played in her husband’s mysterious rule has been lost to time in an age where a woman’s only acknowledged achievements were that of bearing sons, of which she had four.

#no king at all #my video #celia targaryen #tywin lannister x oc #tywin lannister

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ladygreywritesstuff · 4 months

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Stardew Valley:

Dig Deep -- Farmer/Marlon -- 12/12 Chapters

Just Enjoying the View -- Farmer/Marlon -- smutty one-shot

Other one-shots and drabbles

Game of Thrones/ASOIAF:

What Storms May Blow -- OC of House Frey/Barristan Selmy -- 25/29 Chapters

A Promise Broken -- Tywin Lannister/Joanna Lannister -- drabble

Elevator Music -- OC/Tywin Lannister, Modern AU -- one-shot

Kissing Roose -- various/Roose Bolton -- drabble collection

Wrong Address -- Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Modern AU -- 3/3 Chapters

True or False -- OC/Roose Bolton -- 26/26 Chapters

Not Today -- Arya Stark/Jaqen H'ghar, Modern AU -- 3/3 Chapters

Therapy -- Roose Bolton/Fat Walda Frey, Modern AU -- one-shot

Protégé -- Roose Bolton/Arya Stark (aged up), Modern AU -- one-shot

LadyGreyWrites on AO3

Header by @saradika-graphics

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ossiwolf · 10 months

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Lannister's Lost Love

The grand halls of Casterly Rock resounded with the harmonious symphony of clinking cutlery and the gentle hum of conversations as the illustrious Lannister family gathered for their customary evening repast. Lord Tywin Lannister, his countenance stoic and impenetrable, occupied the seat at the head of the table, his commanding presence a testament to his unwavering authority. Flanking him on either side were his cherished grandchildren, Myrcella and Tommen, now matured into inquisitive young adults, their minds brimming with the captivating tales of their ancestral lineage. Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion sat further down the table, enamored in their own exchanges. Thankfully, for Myrcella and Tommen, Joffrey had chosen to stay in King's Landing under their father, King Robert's care.

As the opulent feast unfolded, Tommen, his youthful innocence radiating from his emerald eyes, cast a sidelong glance at his grandfather, summoning the courage to delve into uncharted territory. "Grandfather," he began, his voice laced with a tinge of trepidation, "may I inquire about something?"

One elegant eyebrow arched in response, Tywin's penetrating gaze fixating on the young prince. "Certainly, Tommen. Speak your mind."

Drawing in a deep breath, Tommen's words cascaded forth in a torrent. "What befell Princess Visenya, Grandfather? You were there, before and during the Rebellion... Was she slain in the battle for the Red Keep? I saw her name on a tapestry but so much was lost..."

A momentary pause hung in the air, as though time itself stood still. Cersei, seated nearby, exchanged a startled glance with Jaime, their eyes widening in surprise. The subject of Visenya had seldom been broached in their presence, a tacit agreement forged among them to inter the anguish of her absence deep within their souls. In order to protect their father, and their own hearts, nearly all records of the Targaryean Princess had been hidden or destroyed.

Tywin's visage remained unyielding, concealing the tumult that surged within him. Composing himself, he sought an explanation that eluded him. "Visenya... She was compelled to return to her father, King Aerys," he responded, his voice measured. "The circumstances surrounding her departure were... complex."

"But... why was she not with him to begin with? Was she fighting like her ancestor, The Warrior Queen?" Tommen's eyes lit up at the idea of a Warrior Queen. The boy had always been delighted and idealistic about tales of Knights and Dragon Queens. He did not notice his uncle Tyrion wince slightly at the question, his small hands tightening around the cutlery.

"No. She was married to your grandfather, Sweetling." It is Cersei's voice that breaks the tension, her tone holding a modicum of frost as she attempts to control her emotions.

Myrcella, her youthful spirit ablaze with curiosity, pressed onward. "But why, Grandfather? What befell her afterward? Did she ever find her way back to us?"

A flicker of vulnerability danced across Tywin's steely gaze, unveiling the depths of his emotions. He shook his head slightly. "I do not know, Myrcella. After the war, she vanished. I have scoured the realms in search of her, but the winds have borne her secrets far beyond my grasp."

Silence descended upon the table, laden with unspoken sentiments. Jaime and Cersei exchanged glances, their eyes filled with a mixture of grief and astonishment. Their father's admission shattered the facade of invincibility they had woven around him, exposing the unhealed wounds that time had failed to mend.

Tommen's voice broke the stillness, tinged with a profound melancholy. "I yearn to meet her, Grandfather. I yearn to have known her, to have experienced her presence within our family."

Tywin's gaze softened as he beheld his grandchildren, glimpsing the ethereal essence of Visenya flickering within their eyes. A pang of regret flickered across his countenance, lamenting the loss they all shared. "I share your sentiments, dear Tommen. Yet, some things lie beyond our control, and the capricious winds of destiny steer us toward divergent shores."

The weight of unvoiced longing permeated the air, an unspoken tribute to the woman who had touched their lives and left an indelible imprint upon their hearts. In that profound moment, the Lannister family, bound by their shared yearning, found solace in their collective sorrow.

And as the echoes of their conversation dissipated into the expansive halls of Casterly Rock, the memory of Princess Visenya Targaryen, lost but never forgotten, became interwoven into the fabric of their legacy—a poignant reminder of love's fragility and the enduring power of familial bonds.

***

It was late into the night when Tywin stood in front of his fireplace. It burned hot in the Lord of Casterly Rock's chambers every night for almost twenty years. His emerald eyes shine with shades of black and gold reflecting in their pools.

The dragon egg has lain in the flames since his wedding night. Any chance of it hatching died with his love but he keeps it. His secret reminder of his lost love.

#lannister #tywin lannister x oc #game of thrones #targaryen oc #fanfic #fandom #fantasy #lost love

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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 👀

#game of thrones #tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #tywin lannister x oc #tywin lannister fanfiction

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hawkeyescoffee · 1 year

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will post AGOSIHE together with the first chapter of THE RAIN HASNT CEASED YET together @hawkeyescoffeewrites on friday bc yesterday and tuesday were stressful af (maybe i cried in public. we love having anxiety) and today i’ll visit my cats!! as always my sideblogs are being hidden again.

#asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf #housekeeping #eliyanna #tywin lannister x oc #misha & lev

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msmorningstaarr · 4 months

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let me fill you up | Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

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."

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slavicdelight · 4 months

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The Last Embrace

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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dragons-and-handcuffs · 4 months

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Okay but imagine Cersei's son, who is older than Joffrey. A product of Cersei and Jaime's affairs. He takes the throne after Robert Baratheon dies. He knows exactly who his father is. He knows he is not the rightful heir, but he strongly desires the throne. He is more proud to be a full Lannister than to be known as the King's son. Cersei's favorite child.

Imagine him having a scary aura. He is worse than Joffrey but more smart and cunning. Definitely has no problem being in the front line of the battle. Imagine Stark!reader imprisoned by him. He has no intention of letting her go. Imagine a whole harem of whores and noble ladies to fulfill his desires and fantasies.

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samieree · 5 months

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Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon Masterlists

[General Masterlist with list of boys I can write one-shots with here]

[my works are also avaiable on Ao3: Samiere and on wattpad: _Saelin Also on fanfiction net: Samiere]

MASTERLIST Silver Princess || House of the Dragon (fanfiction)(Daemon Targaryen x OC x Aemond Targaryen)

King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn are expecting another child - possibly a new heir to the Iron Throne. After all, after the birth of two princesses, it must finally be time for a prince, right? On this occasion, a tournament is organized in King's Landing, which also attracts the king's brother - Daemon Targaryen to the capital. Unfortunately, the day of the tournament will set in motion a series of events that over the years will eventually lead to Dance of Dragons and something even worse, besides splitting House of the Dragon into three camps…

2. MASTERLIST Dawn of the North || Robb Stark (fanfiction)(Robb Stark x OC)

As the War of the Five Kings rages in Westeros, in the far north beyond the Wall, young princess of a forgotten kingdom will finally have the opportunity to break free from her father's watchful eye and try to live her own life. When there are reports of Daenerys Targaryen, who is already making plans to claim the throne of the Seven Kingdoms, Amalthea's father asks her to find her cousin. However, there is more to this request than a desire to reunite the family. However, before that happens, after leaving the fairy-tale kingdom of Acalida, Amalthea travels south, where after so many years of peaceful life, she collides with the brutal reality of the Seven Kingdoms. As soon as the voice of her heart speaks to her, she will have to pull herself together and show the other part of her character - reasonable, objective, cunning… And sometimes a bit mad and merciless to fit in a world full of intrigue and not lose her life. And as a Queen from unknown lands… She will have to earn respect and trust of others.

3. MASTERLIST Born in Flames || Game of Thrones (fanfiction)(OC x ?😏)

The young former Princess Visenya, and now Maegelle Targaryen, after the death of King Robert I Baratheon can finally come to King's Landing without fear of death at the hands of Robert, who has vowed to kill any Targaryen he can. Exactly, "any Targaryen he can"… He hasn't been able to touch Maegelle since Tywin Lannister took her to Casterly Rock and she was under his care for the next seventeen years, raised to be against her real family. Even her changed name is to make her realize who she should be. But will she listen to it? After all, she had spent her entire life with the murderers of her family…

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themotherofblood · 11 months

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CHAPTER 2 | RIVER OF GOLD | The Bedding | T.L x READER

series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 1

tw: infantalism, major age gap, loss of virginity, misogynistic views, allusions to blood, breeding, unprotected

~ the lion’s in the house, the flowers are up in the air ~

“The wedding was quaint I suppose, followed by the customs of the Seven. I had hoped to have a Ryonish wedding, just as my cousins did, the dress lord Tywin, or I suppose my husband had gotten redone from my mother’s old gown, had freshwater pearls. I lit a candle at the Sept. I felt her. My mother’s warmth embraced at my back. She is watching me, I think. I miss her terribly.”

The feast that gathered in your father’s Great Hall was elaborate, surely the money came from Tywin’s coffers as you had never seen your father spend on such baseless things as he had said. Your martial cloak still laid heavy upon your shoulders as you ate what you could from your plate. People danced and jovial banter followed the tables, your sisters taking turns dancing with Olvyar. Lord Kevan had ridden from Casterly Rock to be in attendance, Tywin’s only family present. You knew not to hope for this agreement to be extravagant nor joyous, this was a deal struck well. Your womb for the Lannister offspring and you showered in riches and power, perhaps if you gave him a son or two. You could return to Dorne.

There was a fiddly sense of belonging between the two of you, there should have been a first dance, which he refused, he doesn’t smile, why doesn’t he smile? You would have danced, you loved dancing however whatever simple vows spoken at the altar seemed to have mellowed your making entirely as you sat there from the hour of crow to the hour of the bat. Feasting away as your father regaled of this most triumphant match and how honoured his daughter - you who sat right in front of him was.

What you worried for most was the bedding, you should have taken up the offer of your cousin Nymeria when she had laid attractive ideals upon your lap to flitter you away with her to the most extravagant of brothels on the eastern streets of Sunspear. Though a maiden, you weren’t entirely daft due to the very colourful tapestries and paintings that flowered you to a whole different - erogenous - world. What kind of lover was your husband to be? Was there even warmth to expel within the sheets from his stone heart? He doesn’t even smile, not once.

Tywin in truth was a fine man for his age, though his pockets (mines) were the true seduction of his being, if one could get past the stern glare, no… judgement in his eyes with which he glanced at a room. There had to be more to a man of his stature, of his experience. You could name a rumour or two, your aunt, but your mind mostly wondered about his children. Much, much older children. There was sedation, you knew this much as he promised this to you “You would be safe.” Perhaps the debt he owed to your mother was one of the grave consequences.

“Now, the night grows cold my lords!” Loren exclaimed, raising his glass to you, his pale cheeks red from the intoxication of the strong wines your Dornish ship had brought along. “Shall we send for the bedding ceremony,” he cheered, downing his cup with an animalistic growl. Your father, your boorish father. Never leaving one opportunity to humiliate you, having your clothes pulled off in front of a very populated crowd, you shuffled back uncomfortably in your seat, clutching your skirts in balled fists. Would it be inappropriate to punch a lord?

“What you say, my lord,” Loren turned to his liege lord, your husband who looked rather unamused as he finally looked at you after the wedding ceremony. His eyes narrowed further before he turned to your father.

“There will be no bedding,” he said, voice lowly and intimidating. He rose, holding his hand out for you to take. His palms were warm, too warm as you clutched his palm. He fixated a subtle glare towards your father and pulled you from the feast. You walked behind him, mildly shocked that he would protect you, he promised it. You pattered along behind him, the anklets hidden under your gown chiming as you walked with him. He let go of your hand once the doors behind you closed, letting you lead him to your childhood quarters.

Like falling marbles, your heart fluttered each time you thought of ways to present yourself to him. When you entered your bed-chambers, a slight dread filled your belly. Tywin looked around, face stoic as ever until his eyes fell on the dolls that sat atop a chest, he looked at your questioningly, eyebrows raised making your sheepishly scratch your neck.

“I haven’t been in these rooms since I was seven,” you told him, a simple explanation to the many toys decorated around the chambers, the books stacked across the walls and shelves. Patches of embroidered neatly folded onto a pile by the receiving table. Your handmaidens had left behind a tray of refreshments, wines and dried fruit. You are his wife - wife, the realisation seemed to have slowly trickled its way to your consciousness. You are married - you are married and you would now have to lose your maidenhead.

“Why do you do that?” Tywin pulled you from your intense line of thought, looking at you as though he was reading you, a droll book with its finest pages being ripped away and hidden.

“Do what?” You blurted, watching him intuitively as he poured himself a cup of wine and filled another for you.

“Your mind, you think too hard,” he grunted, sitting himself down on the great chair turned away from the heart, it was utterly comical if you thought over the scenery. His much - much larger frame situated upon a very small, cushiony great chair made of lilac cloth and blue embroidery to match its footstool. Your chair, you wanted to sit there but instead pick up the cup of wine from the table. Taking ginger sips of the wine and frowning at its taste, twelve summers at Sunspear and your tongue still couldn’t accustom to the fizzled burn upon your throat.

“I- I just…” you trailed, taking a larger swig this time, unsure of what to talk about, the talking wasn’t necessary, was it? “How would you like me, my lord?”

You bit your tongue, hard. Trusting yourself up like a whore, how would you like me, seriously?

“Are you afraid of me, girl?” the green of his eyes glinted over your doe eyes face, the confusion and torn countenance.

“No, not afraid,” you took a seat next to him, curving near the rip of your cup with your finger “You are very unreadable- I do not wish to disappoint you,” he grunted, and almost a broken chuckle fell from his lips.

“I can’t tell if you are pleased or not I… you do not smile, my lord.”

He looked up, right into you. The menacing gaze of his eyes, almost a glare made you want to cower. Be swallowed whole by this chair, shutupshutupshutp, your mind in frenzy began to scream at you. This time you gulped down the cup entirely. What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

“You’ve picked a fine one brother,” Kevan patted Tywin’s back “She and Genna will surely create quite the trouble.”

Tywin grunted out a chuckle “She deceived me the first we met, fourteen years and not one lie went through me. But this one,” Tywin shook his head as he buttoned his cuffs. “She’s of exceptional breeding, wide enough hips for childbearing and a sharp wit.”

“Gods, Tywin, you are to make her your wife, not butcher her for meat.” Kevan rolled his eyes at his brother’s straightforward description of you.

Tywin brushed his hands down his doublet, he swore to not think of this beforehand. Yet a man’s mind was only so fortified as he thought of Joanna, you looked nothing like her, the distinct lack of yellow-blonde and greenish eyes he could spend dusk till dawn. This was a necessity, his children had all failed him, and he couldn’t trust Cersei to feasibly manage Casterly Rock, her concentrated arrogance was much of Tywin’s fault. His golden boy, the fine knight he was, politically a mouse and Tyrion- better call him something else than Tywin’s son.

His brother Kevan, was trustworthy and most capable of being his heir but he wanted just another chance, to build his legacy from his blood, his lineage, and his seed. A young enough wife to mould to his liking, you were a challenge, your mind too sharp behind the polite curtain upon your eyes. He found no reason to be curt or cold to you, you were to share his bed. A fine creature- soft and poised with an amalgamated refinery of Westerslands blood and Dornish brawl.

Now, as you sat in front of him. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t let this bedding be a rut-pump-fill engagement. The heavy lower lip long stripped from its pinkish rogue, filled with colour due to your constant biting. He stopped drinking at the feast a while back, not wanting to blurt Joanna’s name while within you. He had done far too many times to the whores of Lannisport. However as he watched you, the possibility dwindled, your aura too commanding to be thought of as anything else than who you were, the strong scent of sandalwood and lilies. An inviting little thing, the lusts of a man no different than his youth.

He rose from his seat, reaching forward to cup your jaw to make you look at him, his thumb itching to graze over your supple cheek. “I am pleased,” he said sincerely behind his monotone behaviour. “Come.” He whispered.

Your softer hand once more took his as he led you to the foot of your bed. He could tell how hard you were breathing from your breasts pushing against the bindings of your gown, spilling parts of it over and deflating once more. His hand with a find of his let his pointer trace against the curve of cheek down your neck. “I will return in moments.”

He ventured to ante chambers to strip into far appropriate and comfortable attire for tonight. In a soft white tunic and trousers, his mind wandered to the vision that were you. A titillating scene, one devoid of the performative bait of the whores he had gotten used to. You were a terrified thing, surely taught or read about the consummation. He wouldn’t let it hurt, he hadn’t felt a maiden in a while, the vile thought stirred warmth within his breeches as he re-entered your chambers to find you in your night rail. Soft white with flowers - flowers, his eyes raked down your body. You are undone hair, thick and wild. Shoulders bared, kissable the nape of your neck, the marks he could leave upon your collarbones. The gentle glow of the lit hearth against your skin and the scent.

The incense, that’s what you smelled of, it teased him for days since you agreed to marry him. You sat at the edge of the bed, legs tucked together as you toyed with your fingers nervously. Your eyes widened for a moment when you noticed his silhouette standing a few breaths away from you. You were trying to will bravado into your nerves, turn them ice cold to stop with the gentle tremble on your fingertips.

He approached you one more, towering over your frame. The space between his thumb and pointer fits perfectly at the curve of your chin as he held your face. “My lord,” you whispered.

His lips pushed against yours, unlike the chaste close-mouthed peck. This one commanded you to learn, to receive his affections with equal attention. Your lips parted, letting his tongue within, you floundered for a moment. A buzz ran down your spine as you felt his other hand pull you closer, you whimpered into the kiss, finding a distinct lack of air within as Tywin pulled away.

“You ought to stop calling me my lord.” Tywin admired your features, a lamb for the lion to feast upon, your lips so sweet, laced with the very strong wine that lingered in Tywin’s lips. He wondered if his young bride was sweet everywhere. You nibbled on your bottom lips. The flush of your cheeks - The Maiden in the flesh as your rail shielding the ample globes upon your chest. A mellow-tempered beauty, pure and untouched. As much as his mind wished him to strip you bare, it would be unlike his station to impose you further from your comfort.

He gestured towards the pillows, letting you crawl further in as he rid himself of his tunic. For his age, Tywin maintained the regime of a knight. Finding no reason to laze away to his growing age, he would die many ways happily. Other than a fat country lord. His frame engulfed yours as he positioned himself on his knees. His thumb grazed your lips, parting them as he pushed in two fingers.

“Suck on them,” he commanded as you obliged like a doll on strings. Suctioning your lips around his pointer and middle finger. The skin between your legs was divinely soft as he stroked them open, and your stomach churned. You were his wife now, his to pry open until you were swollen with his babe.

He felt the sickish soft hairs against your skin, trimmed to a perfect mound as the pads of his fingertips strum against your petals, coating them slick with the wetness from your mouth. You gasped, a kittenish yelp, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as your husband prepared you for your bedding.

“It’s alright, this will make it more bearable,” he stated, his features long softened that you didn’t notice until now. He laid next to you with your legs held open as he rubbed tight circles onto your bud.

“My…my lord,” you mewled, making Tywin return to his stern glare as a warning. “Husband.” The word so foreign against your tongue, your noses touching one another as your eyes scrunched close.

A malicious urge flared over Tywin as he couldn’t wait longer to feel you clenching around his cock. He kissed your lips once more before situating himself atop you. You squealed as he positioned you by yanking you down by the hip. Your rubescent folds are ever inviting, beginning to have his cock sliding through the slick. He pushes his breeches off, letting his semi-harden length, the mushroom tip resting against your entrance. He was waiting, waiting for you.

There was apprehension, mayhaps fear in your eyes. You shuffled your hips making Tywin but his tongue, feeling the friction against his leaky tip, “Please.” You whispered.

His tip pushed against your rejecting core, unyielding to the foreign feeling as his thumb gingerly swiped over your bud to mask the sting you were to soon feel. You bleat, choking at the feeling of his cock pushing in, you grasp onto his shoulder a little too hard, nails digging in. You hiss out an apology, all he did was shush you, like a learning child. It would be fine, he would make it better. Your eyes dropped heavy eyelids fixated upon him as he bludgeoned himself smug into your cunt, he wavered for a moment. A lowly groan rumbled from within him as your silent sobs persisted. He waited once more, watching over your scrunched face.

Drunk from the lust he fought to not fuck into you, reminding himself you were no whore, you would break too easy if he inflicted any more strain. He didn’t understand what you were doing to him as he placed a kiss upon your forehead as your cunt fluttered around him. There was a different depravity in the thought of moulding something this young, and warm to stretch himself. Making a delicate home for his seed within you, reaching for your womb for his heir, his—this was his.

“Please move— husband,” you hissed, gently rocking your hips to soothe the waves of pain flaring through your abdomen. It faded, the hurt was pleasurable against the tweaks at your pearl.

Tywin groaned, his hips rolling into yours as he set a gentle pace. Your pretty hair spread about the pillow, full lips parted open with gasps of harsh air - taking thrust after thrust for him. It didn’t go unnoticed as your fingertips caressed against the backs of his shoulders. Don’t fucking do it — Tywin valiantly fought against the urge to grasp at a handful of your breasts. Your nipples were hard behind the cotton fabric, the shoulders pulled so far down they threatened to spill from their coverings.

“Say my name, say my name wife,” he groaned, holding your jaw with the green of his eyes making you dizzy.

“T-Tywin— it feels so good,” you mewled, of course, it does, pretty maiden being fucked open for your first coupling as he took much care of you. Tywin, some doe-eyed witch you were, maybe his wine laced with a potion. His name never sounded so sweet.

His hand clutched your hips, truly the perfect width, his cock stirred some more at the thought of your soft pouch swelling further. The glow in your cheek is even radiant while carrying his heirs “Such a good girl,” he groaned. “Fuck.” He groaned under his breath, trying to keep his equanimity.

His cock twitched feeling your cunt squelch as he flicked his thumb against your bundle of nerves, a rut and a pump more and he sweared “fuck, there—take it.” You mewled under him, legs shuddering as his cock pumped itself to completion. Warm seed coating your environs as his sweat-beaded head fell against your forehead.

The heavy after loom oddly weaved your legs against him, the gentle weight of his body resting against yours anchored you to the ticklish warmth you felt. Eyes heavy and shut and your heart hammered against your chest. Tywin pulled you up when you could gather your bearings once he dressed.

The service bell was rung for Maester Crasden, your father Loren and Tywin’s brother Kevan to inspect the sheets. You sat hidden behind your husband’s silhouette, the sheets stained thoroughly, though the flush of your cheeks was indication enough that marriage was indeed consummated. Maester Crasden checked on you as Tywin conversed with Loren.

“We ride tomorrow at noon, make a night's journey home,” Tywin instructed your father is more than happy to be rid of one daughter with such an auspicious match. Kevan nodded before exiting the chambers along with Loren. Maester Crasden laced a cup of water with two drops of Milk of The Poppy to ease any pains you might feel in the morrow. When he left, there was yet again an awkward silence between the two of you, mostly on your part.

Tywin on the other hand admired the dishevelled beauty sat by the hearth, “You need your rest, we are to leave tomorrow.” He stated.

“Leave?” You questioned, putting the empty cup away as you stood, legs a little sore as you grimaced at the feel of his leaking seed.

“For Casterly Rock,” he shrugged, awaiting any disappointments that might flare within your eyes. You looked at the hearth as your lips pulled to a line.

You walked to him and reached onto your toes to press a kiss upon his cheek “Goodnight husband.”

Tywin nodded as he helped you onto your bed before gracefully turning in his heel and leaving for his bed chambers.

To Casterly Rock then.

next chapter

#tywin lannister x reader #tywin lannister smut #tywinlannisterxyou #tywin x reader #tywin lannister x you #tywin lannister #tywin lannister x oc #tywin imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #got x reader #got smut #got hbo #river of gold series

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