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the-well-known-scout · 7 months

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A Bride in the Eyes of Some

Tywin Lannister X Reader Fic 🦁

(nsfw!)

“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.

#game of thrones #got #asoiaf #tywin x reader #tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #got x reader #house lannister #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #casterly rock

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msmorningstaarr · 5 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 · 6 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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samieree · 3 months

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"Dawn of the North || Robb Stark" Masterlist

(fanfiction)(Robb Stark x OC)

[General Masterlist with list of boys I can write one-shots with here] [Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon Masterlist]

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

!IMPORTANT INFO!

Introduction + Prologue

Chapter I "Family"

Chapter II "War in the south"

Chapter III "Silver-haired"

Chapter IV "News are various"

Chapter V "Truth?"

Chapter VI "First step"

Chapter VII "Mutual happiness [+18]

Chapter VIII "Temporary peace"

Chapter IX "The Twins"

Chapter X "Wildlings"

Chapter XI "The Letter"

Chapter XII "In the sight of the Seven..." [+18]

Chapter XIII "Harrenhal"

Chapter XIV "Proposition"

Chapter XV "Are you a witch?"

Important info!!!

Introduction + Prologue

Chapter I "Family"

Chapter II "War in the south"

Chapter III "Silver-haired"

Chapter IV "News are various"

Chapter V "Truth?"

Chapter VI "First step"

Chapter VII "Mutual happiness [+18]

Chapter VIII "Temporary peace"

Chapter IX "The Twins"

Chapter X "Wildlings"

Chapter XI "The Letter"

Chapter XII "In the sight of the Seven..." [+18]

Chapter XIII "Harrenhal"

Chapter XIV "Proposition"

Chapter XV "Are you a witch?"

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atomic--peach · 1 year

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Her Grace's Handmaiden

Imagine being Queen Cersei's favorite handmaiden Pt.2

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

(Cersei x fem reader, slight Sandor x fem reader if you like it like that. I've decided this is going to be a series that will go into smutty territory eventually, but it'll definitely be a slow burn)

The ride north was an unforgiving one. Being lowborn, you had only admired horses from afar before being expected to ride in the Queen's entourage. Side saddle riding protected your modesty and spared your thighs the chafing that the Male riders suffered, but your lower back and shoulders ached all the same.

The queen rode in a lavish carriage with her three children, guarded closely on either side by Ser Jaime and Sandor Clegane.

Due to your inexperience riding and your new found favor with her grace, you were instructed to ride along side The Hound, who was under orders to keep any eye on you and intervene if the mare beneath you proved too rowdy.

It was clear that The Hound resented this duty, already having to keep an eye on the young Prince Joffery, who alternated between riding in the carriage and mounting his own steed. A bright white and rowdy gelding that was the torment of the other horses in the party. It nipped and whinied, trotting circles around the group in a foppish, showy manner.

The Hound, on the other hand, mounted a broad bodied horse that was black as midnight with a coal grey mane named Stranger.

As the prince took another lap, the white gelding nipped at the hindquarters of your mare for what must have been the fifth or sixth time that day. The mare, tired and frustrated with this harassment, finally decided to voice her displeasure by baying loudly and bouncing her back legs enough to bounce you around.

"No, no Girl. Whoa, stop stop stop" you squealed, pulling at the reins with as much force as you dared but the horse was too fed up to mind.

"Stop! Stop the carriage" a firm and regal voice put a halt to the party as Clegane snatched the reigns from your grasp and managed to settle the mare back into submission.

"Mother's Mercy!" A gruff voice growled, accompanied by the heavy trot of hooves. King Robert's face was red as a cherry from drink and frustration as he glared at the queen. "If you keep holding us up, Winterfell will be snowed in before we even get there!"

"I apologize, Your Grace" You bowed your head, face flushed with embarrassment. "It was my fault, I failed to control my mount. My deepest apologies."

Robert's eyes rolled nearly back to his skull with a begrudging sigh before flinging a finger at Clegane.

"You, Hound, let the girl ride with you and have that beast tethered to a wagon"

He tossed a glare back at the queen, a look which said 'you just had to bring her, didn't you?' Before returning to his place in the party.

"I'm sorry" you nearly whispered, tailing the gargantuan man as he tether the horse in brooding silence.

Heading back to Stranger, you nearly cried out as Clegane snatched the softness of your arm and all but dragged you up onto the horse in front of him. His grip was bruising and you had to force yourself not to rub the part where he snatched you like a hawk snatches a rabbit.

"Not one word" he growled "or I'll toss you from this horse and let you walk to Winterfell."

You rode until dusk, and your body didn't relax until you were safely once again on solid ground.

Once again, The Hound dismounted first before he gripped you by the waist, hard fingers pressing into the soft flesh under your riding clothes, and all but dragged you off the horse where you landed with a wobble of your knees.

"Y/N, To me" your mistress called and you rushed to her side immediately.

"Yes, Your Grace" your curtsey suffered from the weakness in your legs, but the Queen hardly seemed to notice.

"You had us worried there" She looked down at you with unreadable eyes, "You'll have to improve your riding if you wish to keep up"

"I will, Your Grace. Thank you"

"Take my things inside" she motioned vaguely to the inn at which you had stopped for the night. "Just follow King Robert's squire, he'll show you. Then come back for the children's things"

"Immediately, Your Grace"

The work was arduous, and by the time you finished it was past dark. The inn provided food and housing for the higher members of the entourage, but at The Queen's insistence you were to sleep at the foot of her bed as you did in The Red Keep.

Robert was apathetic to this. Ser Jaime, to your surprise, seemed genuinely disappointed by this and approached the queen when they thought they had a moment in private, not knowing you were settling the queen in as they spoke

"Don't worry" Cersei assured him "I'll just send her out"

-----------

After dinner, you tended to your queen with great care. Standing behind her as she sat on the edge of the plush feather bed, you gently pulled a comb through her golden locks, picking out any snags with extreme tenderness.

"Y/N, tonight my brother will be coming by to discuss some family matters and I want you out of the way."

"Of course, your grace." You complied, satisfied with this explanation. Of course she wouldn't want you around when they discussed Lannister matters.

"And..." She turned slightly, looking up at you through her lashes in a way that made your breath catch in your chest. "Be a good girl, and don't mention this to anyone. It's my business, and I expect you to keep it that way"

"Not a word, Your Grace" Your face began to flush as her long, slender hand grasped your small, common one.

"Not even to The King"

"The King?" You paused, confused why the king would inquire about such a thing in the first place. "Yes, your grace. Not even to the King. I swear it"

Cersei's face softened at this and, to your great shock, raised your hand to her face and allowed it to stroke her cheek gently.

"What would I do without you?" She breathed before letting your hand drop back to your side and turning back around so you could finish combing out her hair.

You carried the high of her touch through the evening and even when she sent you away. You curtisied to Jaime primly before slipping outside back to the wagons.

Aimless, you went to the stables where the horses had been bedded down for the night, glancing into each stall curiously until you found the mare you had ridden earlier.

Her tawny coat had been brushed and her white snout was buried in a pail of oats.

"Hello" you greeted her in a small voice. "I'm sorry about before, it wasn't your fault"

The horse snorted at you in an apathetic manner, flicking the flies off with her tail.

"Don't talk to horses" a gruff voice scolded you from down the stable hall.

You jumped, having believed you were alone, before craning you head to see who spoke.

"Why not?" You eyed The Hound with flushed cheeks, embarrassed to have been caught.

"Because it makes you look mad" he grumbled. "No one wants a mad handmaid"

"Well" you sputtered as he approached you from Stranger's stall, "It wasnt her fault. It was that gelding that kept biting her"

"It wasn't her fault, you're right" he stopped, towering over you like a shadow. "It was your fault"

"What?"

"That mare is the most patient thing in this barn, trained to handle children and unskilled little fools like you." He leaned against the wood of the stall with his arms crossed firmly. "If you'd just kept your calm like any person with half a brain would, she would have listened to you"

"I do so have a brain" You raged. Where did he get off being so disrespectful when all you'd been was polite?

"Doubt it" The hound scoffed "The queen does all your thinking for you, she's got your brain tucked away in all those trunks somewhere."

"Why I-" you gasped "All I have ever done is my very best for Her Grace's comfort and happiness. If My Lady has any issue with the way I serve her, she will not hesitate to let me know"

"I'll bet" a cruel smirk spread across Sandor's face. "And they call me the hound. What a well trained little bitch she has in you."

The slap came on reflex, fueled by indignant rage that fled your body as quickly as it came. The blood drained from your face as the Hound's gaze trained on you with a low growl.

"You get one of those. Only one. Next time you even think about raising hand to me, I'll tear it off and beat you with it"

You nodded slowly, closing your eyes as if bracing for a strike until Clegane let out a slow exhale.

"Run back to your mistress, little girl. And don't let me see your face until morning."

You did exactly that, hovering in the hallway of your lady's room until Ser Jaime slipped out quietly and tried to sneakily return to his own before stopping in his tracks at the sight of you.

You curtisied and kept your head down until your chin was jerked up suddenly, making you flinch. Jaime's eyes studied your face, smoothing his thumb over your cheek to wipe away a stream of tears. You'd been crying and didn't even realize it.

"Do I need to do something about this?" The head of the kingsgaurd asked, knowing you fully got his meaning.

"No" you shook you head and wiped away what was left of your tears with your palm. "No Ser, I am fine. Thank you'

Jaime nodded. "My sister is waiting for you"

"Yes, Ser" you breathed, trying to right yourself before letting your lady see you. "Thank you, Ser"

You watched him go, steadying your breath and wiping your eyes one last time before returning to your post

#game of throne imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister imagine #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane imagine #Jaime Lannister x reader #jaime lannister imagine #Cersei Lannister x fem reader #Her Grace's Handmaiden

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qyburnsghost · 9 months

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What have you guys done? 🤣

#house of the dragon #game of thrones #daenerys targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #jonerys #cesare x lucrezia #jaime x cersei #cersei lannister #jamie lannister #hotd #lucrezia borgia #lucemond #helaemond #daemon x rhaenyra #daemyra #house targaryen #house lannister

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artedimichelangelo · 1 year

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Hi! if your taking requests I’d like to request something! Could you please write a Jaime Lannister x fem!reader in which she’s his friend and has always had feelings for him, and she’s one of the few people who has never called him kingslayer because she couldn’t believe he was a bad person even if she didn’t know the whole story. And maybe after he loses his hand he comes back to king’s landing and he feels worthless (cause he can’t fight anymore and everyone even cersei is treating him badly) but reader stays by his side and reassures him. So he notices that she’s the only one who’s always been there for him and in a moment of vulnerability he tells her the whole mad king story. And she feels really bad for what happened to him also because she sees how it’s something that still haunts him so she hugs him and he has someone to comfort him for the first time. He’s been though so much and I just want him to have someone who’s there for him because they genuinely care 🥲.

I hope what I said made sense because english is not my first language. Anyway feel free to ignore this if it doesn’t inspire you! :)

For the first time - Jaime Lannister x Fem!Reader.

Author's Note: Hii! Thanks for your request, I hope this fic is to your liking and if maybe you wanted something different, please feel free to tell me.

Also, I think I got carried away with this one, let me know what you think.

Plus, if there is something in the warnings or in general that I forgot to mention, you can tell me without problems.

Oh I also recommend the song For the first time by Mac DeMarco for this one.

Pairings: Jaime Lannister x Fem!Reader, mentions of Cersei Lannister and Bronn.

Warnings: English is NOT my first language; possible grammatical errors; not very much proofread; a tiny bit of angst; mentions of blood; fluff.

Word Count: 3710.

As the sun set, the Red Keep was under surveillance of the royal guards, even more so than in the morning.

When the servants lit the lanterns, Y/n knew that her watch had begun and she would have to keep an eye on the corridors of the king's residence.

By now she knew her shifts by heart and had got used to them, as she had been serving the royal family as a knight for years.

Her father was an old acquaintance of the king, so it was not difficult to obtain this role in the fortress.

Y/n was the only woman among all the other knights; she had to protect others but also herself, as many of the men she worked with were uncouth and often disrespected her.

However, she unfortunately had gotten used to it and had her reflexes ready for any hypothetical attack.

Whilst wandering through the corridors faintly lit by the flames of the torches, she could only hear subtle whispers, precisely of two voices overlapping, one interrupting the other and not even giving each other time to breathe.

As she proceeded, Y/n had to take great care not to make noise with her armour, which barely scraped the walls against which she had flattened herself so as not to be seen.

By doing so, she was able to see who the voices corresponded to: one belonged to Cersei Lannister and the other to Jaime, her twin brother and a close friend of Y/n's.

"You're ridiculous, it's as if you're betraying me." Said the queen with venom, lowering her clipped voice even more after hearing a footstep around the corner of the hall. "Know that if I fall into the void, you come down with me."

With such words, or rather threats, she left the golden-haired knight on the spot, his gaze lost in the darkness..

Jaime was so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not even notice the presence of his dear companion, at least not until he heard her voice muffled in his ears.

"Is something troubling you?" Y/n repeated for the umpteenth time.

She had only eavesdropped on a minimal part of the conversation between the two siblings, but from the expression on the man's face before her, Y/n could deduce that it was not particularly pleasant.

"To tell you the truth, yes.'" The young Lannister replied, his arms crossed against the thick metal of his golden breastplate. "Our days are so hectic that we haven't even had time to exchange a few words today, I have truly missed your suave voice."

"I see that flattery never lacks, what an honour." Y/n said snarkily, a hand on her chest as noble women do when they receive compliments from high-ranking lords. "Don't make me blush with your beaming smile, I don't think my heart can handle that."

Actually, Y/n really liked her friend's compliments, they made her feel important and her princely smile always gave her goosebumps. But she would never confess that to him, she had no intention of inflating the man's ego.

"Seriously though, I know when something's wrong, Jaime, I can see it in your sad eyes."

At that point his gaze lowered to the stone tiles on the floor. No matter how hard he tried, his friend was capable of reading a person as if they were a young lads' book.

"Nothing relevant, simple bickering between Lannisters, you know how it is by now." He laughed it off, but Y/n could swear she saw the man's eyes glaze over, as if he was exhausted and wanted to cry cascades.

Instinctively, she embraced him, and the clash of metal protecting them could be distinctly heard in the cool night.

The so-called Kingslayer was taken by surprise, but he did not budge; on the contrary, he reciprocated this action that was almost foreign to him, as it was full of affection.

He had not received such intense and warm hugs since he was a toddler.

"It is not fair of me to insist on this subject, however, know that you are not alone and that you are loved." She breathed into his ear, her voice like a sweet melody he wished he could hear every morning.

Y/n loved the man and would have given her own life to make him realise how remarkable he was.

Jaime's hand covered by his thick leather gloves moved to the woman's shoulders, as if to attract her attention. The golden knight almost wished he could caress her scarred face from the past, yet he considered it might be an inappropriate move.

"You know, from a distance you definitely look shorter." He received a hearty chuckle from the brave woman in front of him. "Glad to amuse you so much."

"Let's say you can be hilarious at times, if you don't wake up in a bad mood." She sneered, the muscles in her face almost hurt from how much they tightened, but she couldn't stop laughing.

And it was in that pleasant moment, that Jaime had the desire to capture Y/n in a painting, for in her simplicity and modesty, with her hair dishevelled and a few wisps surrounding her face, the blond lion saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. As he had thought the first time he saw her.

"Do I have something on my face?" Once again she roused him from his thoughts, Jaime's eyes constantly lit up with every interaction with the well-known cunning knight. "This is not the time to be distracted, Ser Jaime Lannister, the long night awaits us and we must remain alert for the coming of morrow!"

"You're the one who talks in circles and makes me lose focus, don't talk bollocks!" He replied, patting her on the shoulder, thus beginning a brief fight of playful shoving, their thin laughter heard only by the stars in the dark blue.

Gathered in the courtyard of the Red Keep were the royal knights, led by Jaime Lannister, ready to move on the new enemy, Robb Stark of Winterfell.

"If we follow the plans, we will be able to trample that brat and prevail over his soldiers." The golden knight's voice boomed against the walls, making it impossible to miss. "And if all goes as planned, we will be able to return to King's Landing with victory in our grasp."

As he concluded his speech, his gaze crossed Y/n's confused one on the other side of the yard.

"I didn't think there was a gathering, nor that we had to leave." Said the woman as soon as the young Lannister reached her.

"That is because I did not actually mention it to you."

"It doesn't matter, it happens to anyone to make a mistake, so around what time of day is the departure?"

Jaime looked at her as if in sorrow and in order to speak to her privately, he gently took Y/n's wrist and led her to a hidden corridor, away from prying eyes.

"I did not mention it because you are not coming with us." He grimaced, feeling guilty and expecting a strong disappointment from his friend.

"But I cannot stay here and do nothing while you fight, it is not fair for you to lose your blood out there while I am safe in here." The brave young knight felt the world falling on her, she could not just stand there while the others left, only to perhaps not return.

The woman’s glazed eyes met Jaime's again, her lip quivering to prevent her from shedding any tears, and that heartbroken expression made the blonde-haired knight's heart ache.

"I want to come with you."

"No, no, no, no, Y/n, I implore you." Instinctively, the young Lannister captured the lady’s face in his hands, holding her firmly by the cheeks. The warmth of her skin made his palms tingle almost in a pleasant way. "I have not made this decision to make you grieve and distress, not even to invalidate your abilities. I did it for you, Y/n, for you are as dear to me as the Moon is to the Stars."

Was it strange on the lion's part to find the doe's face extremely bewitching during her cry?

The usual strands of hair escaping from her ponytail were now as if glued to her cheeks, tears and sweat had held them against her rosy, freshly sun-kissed skin.

And Jaime had never felt his stomach in a knot, as if thousands of butterflies were flapping their wings inside it. Often blinded by the presence of his twin sister, he had never paid attention to how much Y/n truly cared for him and loved him, perhaps even more than Cersei.

"Listen to me carefully, hm?" The knight before him nodded, so that he could proceed. "I will return to you, I promise and I mean it. You know well that we Lannisters always keep our promises."

Without debating Y/n moved closer to the crook of Jaime's neck, so that she could feel his scent and the warmth of his body a little closer, as if her mind had to remember those minor details so that she would not be feeling lonely in the days when the blond knight was absent.

Oh, how she longed to confess all her love and adoration to him, and how she wanted to hurt those who called him terrible names without even knowing the truth about his past.

"Know that I will wait patiently for your return, and I swear by the seven kingdoms that if you do not make it back, I will come directly to get you from the depths of hell where you will end up."

They both smiled sadly, as if to relieve the tension of the moment.

"Make a safe return, Ser Jaime Lannister, and know that, even from afar, I protect you." Y/n recomposed herself and the two shook hands for the last time, him putting more pressure as if he did not want to leave her there, but duty awaited the man.

That was the last time Y/n saw Jaime Lannister in King's Landing, still intact and with every piece of his shining armour on his shoulders, his golden hair only barely concealed by his helmet, and his friendly voice overpowering that of all the other men as he made the way to their destination.

On a particularly heated day in the blazing sun, Y/n had obtained a free morning off of duty, so she took the opportunity to read some old letters sent by her father.

Sometimes she missed her hometown, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting up to her chamber window and the voice of her father commanding everyone around him with his booming voice.

Immersed in the words of ink on the thin parchment, the knight had not noticed a presence under the archway at the entrance to her chamber.

She was so quiet and beautiful, as if he had seen her for the first time.

"Y/n." Faintly from the man's cracked lips came the name of the woman, who turned around, stunned, as if she had seen a ghost.

As she rose from her bed, she dropped all the letters on the ground, but it mattered little as seeing Jaime Lannister again after so long made her fling herself at him.

"Are you real? Who did this to you? I convinced myself you were never coming back, I thought... I thought you were dead." She asked frantically, but received no reply. "Does Cersei know of your return?" She questioned again, helping him reach the masters so they could tend to his wounds.

"No, you’re the first person I wanted to see." He managed to say, and if it hadn’t been for Y/n, his face would have collided with the red rock tiles of the castle, as his legs were giving out and he was about to fall.

After the proper care, Y/n offered to help Jaime take a hot and relieving bath.

It would not have been an uncomfortable situation, since they had known each other all their lives and she was there especially to protect him in that vulnerable state.

"You should not be here to assist me, I have never deserved any kind of attention from you." He murmured in a grimace, as his friend poured warm water on his head. "This water is boiling, do you perhaps wish to see me bald?"

"Nonsense."

And Jaime did not understand if that reply referred to what he said first, or to his complaints.

"I promised you I would come back and here I am in the flash, or at least most of it."

"Also thanks to Brienne, because your tongue could have stopped you from returning to King’s Landing." Y/n responded seriously, her calloused hands massaging oils through his now dirty blond hair.

He bent his head back to glance into the woman's sweet eyes.You should have seen the look on her face. The look I've seen for 17 years on face after face." He bent his head back to glance into the woman's sweet eyes. "You are the only exception and this makes me feel less of a human shit… but everyone else? No, they all despise me. Kingslayer. Oath breaker. Man without honour. Ever heard of wildfire?"

"Of course."

"The mad king was obsessed with it. He loved to watch people burn--the way their skin blackened, blistered, melted off their bones. He burned lords he didn't like; he burned Hands that disobeyed him; he burned anyone that was against him." The weak lion shook his head as his past resurfaced before his eyes, he remembered it all as if it had occurred the day before. "Before long, half the country was against him. Aerys saw traitors everywhere, so he had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city: beneath the Sept of Baelor, the slums of flea bottom, under houses, stables, taverns, even beneath the Red Keep itself. Finally, the day of reckoning came."

Y/n was somewhat shaken, but this did not prevent her naive curiosity from knowing more about the story.

"What happened afterwards?" She asked timidly, moving in front of the man, as if to show she was all ears.

"Robert Baratheon marched upon the capitol after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels. I knew my father better than that. He's never been one to pick the losing side. I told the mad king as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully. But the king didn't listen to me, didn't listen to Varys, who tried to warn him. But he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey sunken cunt."

The woman shuddered at the name of the Grandmaster. She never liked him, and he was merely a court rodent who should have been eliminated a long time before.

"He told him that he could trust the Lannisters, since they have always been loyal friends of the crown. So, we opened the gates and my father sacked the city. Fucking imbecile." He laughed bitterly. "Once again I came to the king begging him to surrender. He told me to bring him my father's head. Then he turned to his pyromancer and told him to burn them all. "Burn them in their homes, burn them in their beds." He ordered him… tell me, if your king commanded you to kill your own father and stand by while thousands of men, women and children were burned alive, would you have done it? Would you have kept your oath then?"

Jaime looked straight into her eyes, but he did not really need an answer, for he already knew it. Y/n would never have let that happen and would have made the same decision as the young Lannister.

"So what did I decide to do? First, I killed the pyromancer, and then when the king turned to flee I drove my sword into his back. "Burn them all," he kept saying. "Burn them all." I don't think he expected to die. He meant to burn with the rest of us and rise again reborn as a dragon and turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn't happen."

"And that's where Ned Stark found you." It was not difficult for the clever woman to put the pieces of the puzzle together, thus revealing why the lord of Winterfell loathed and despised Jaime so much.

"Exactly. That's where Ned Stark found me."

"If this is true, why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell Lord Stark?"

"Stark. You think the honourable Ned Stark wanted to hear my side? He judged me guilty the moment he set eyes on me. By what right does the wolf judge the lion? By what right?" The man suddenly stood up, ravaged by fury and anger.

By then, the bubbles in the tub had vanished and the water had turned cold, like a winter's night.

In order not to disrespect her superior, the woman turned away, subsequently handing him a bathrobe to cover himself.

"I believe you and I guarantee that I have always been on your side, and always will be, for better or for worse. I know there is little I can do, for the damage has now been done, but I have no intention of ever leaving you alone." She promised Jaime, slowly ushering him towards his chamber.

Y/n's hands gently held the figure at her side, as if she had become accustomed to its fragility.

She was used to holding her sword firmly and tightly to unsheathe it against her enemies; but with the man she loved, her hands were tender and cautious, as if he were the feather of a dove.

Settled in his bed and wrapped in the soft sheets, Jaime could finally rest, or at least recover before getting back into the swing of things.

"Get some proper sleep, you and I will have a lot to do together over the next few days." Y/n gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead and bid him a good night.

"See you in the morrow." Whispered the knight, more to himself, touching the spot on his forehead that was graced by the most exquisite lips he had ever seen.

"You are very clever Bronn, but not clever enough!" Y/n exclaimed in amusement, and between laughs continued to smack her friend's backside as spite.

Joining the two on the shore of the beach was Jaime, and every time he saw her, he could swear it was like seeing her for the first time, in which he was completely dumbfounded by her persona.

"Look who's here, finally the princess has joined us."

"Funny Bronn, really, I didn't think you could be so funny." Replied the blond sarcastically, already having his sword drawn in his left hand.

"I'll leave you two alone, be sure to knock her ass out, avenge me my friend."

And so it was that the two companions were left alone, the waves of the sea the only audible sound other than the clashing metal of their swords.

Jaime Lannister was visibly tired, although training had only just begun, but he wasn’t used to sparring with his left hand after losing his dominant one.

"I believe in you and I know you can do it, just a little more effort and we’re done." Y/n encouraged her friend, not to annoy him or rush him, on the contrary, she wanted to help him believe again in his strengths and abilities.

With one blow forward and too many steps back, the lion tripped and fell on the sand, too exhausted and out of breath to get up.

"I am not as strong as before, Y/n, I am no good to this world."

He gave up all too soon and she couldn’t accept it, not when aware of his immense potential.

"Listen to me carefully, your attitude won’t help. I know how you really are and I will help you recover, even if I have to wait a lifetime to see you getting your ass off the ground. Have I made myself clear enough?"

Initially Jaime was stunned and taken aback by her words, but his astonishment turned into a smug, satisfied grin.

He was completely enamoured with the wonderful woman before him.

"I love you," Those two words slipped from his lips very clearly. "But not like I love my family or my dear twin sister. No. I truly love you, Y/n, and I was a fool for not admitting it sooner. Or I have my vulnerable state to thank for prompting me to confess my feelings for you."

"Apparently I should push you more often into situations like this, if they allow you to talk and allow me to find out what is always running through your mind." Y/n smiled sweetly and slowly kneeled before him, to reach his eye level, as he was still sitting on the grainy sand. "But I love you too, silly man."

Y/n gently caressed Jaime’s chin and then his cheek, the newly grown beard tickling her hand, but that did not bother her at all.

The blond, with some of the courage he had left in his body, took the sweet woman’s hand into his and left a short trail of kisses across her palm.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to taste your lips that night under the stars."

"What’s keeping you from doing it now before the sunset?"

"Always so clever, are we?"

And so their lips finally met. It was as if they were destined to touch sooner or later.

It was an intense and extremely passionate kiss, they had lusted after each other for so long that they couldn’t even get enough of it.

At that very moment, Jaime Lannister said to himself that, perhaps, despite all the misfortunes, he deserved a happy ending.

#artedimichelangelo #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones one shot #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones jaime lannister #got x reader #got fanfiction #got jaime lannister #jaime lannister #jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister fanfiction #cersei lannister #cersei lannister x jaime lannister #robb stark #house of the dragon #fanfiction #house of the dragon x reader #hotd fanfiction

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suckittwincesters · 2 years

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writergirl2011 · 3 months

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Hey, everybody!! The second story in the new series I’m writing has been posted!! This is a continuation of “The Fight, Flight, or Flirt Response” so check it out if you haven’t already!!

Summary: Jaime's looking forward to getting to know the scare actor who fascinated him at the Fury Manor haunted house better. As long as the universe gives him the chance.

#dee writes things #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #jaime x brienne #featuring tommen and myrcella #and cersei not being so evil!!!#she's still cersei though #fanfiction

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hiatuswhore · 2 years

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𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 — ɢᴏᴛ

A/n: So I am watching Game of Thrones for the first time and I always knew it would be an emotional commitment but damn. The Red Wedding put me in SHAMBLES. I know I’m super late to this fandoms but I’m currently on season six and could not get this fic out of my head until I wrote it. FEEDBACK please! So I’m gonna go watch some more episodes and then email therapist, thanks:)

SUMMARY: Oh to be young and in love. Foolish really, in the Game of Thrones there’s no room for love. Only life and death.

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNING: Season 3 spoilers and Season 4 spoilers.

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The cries that leave her lips are unlike anything Jon has ever heard from her before. He grabs her arms, steadying her as her legs wobble beneath her weight. The cry of the twins drowns into nothing as Jon listens to her sobs in his arms. Samwell coos at the children to ease their sorrow, but they mimic their mother.

“(Y/n), you must gather yourself for your children,” Jon says as she buries herself into his shoulder.

“They have every reason to weep. If anyone learns who they are, who I am, Jon you know we will never be left in peace,” The room stills as Samwell calms the children. His smile falters at (Y/n)’s words, the giggling of the children filling the silence, “Jon?”

He says nothing as he waits for her to speak. Instead, she stares at the twins for several seconds. Eddard’s eyes twinkle as he giggles at the sight of his mother but not his sister. Raina stares as if she understands the news her mother receives, the blue of her eyes and the pull of her eyebrows reminding the world of her father.

“Where’s his body? Where is Catelyn’s body?” Jon inhales sharply, his body tensing as (Y/n) observes him. He tries to assure her that she does not want to know, “Please. I will never get closure if I do not know.”

“They—“He takes a deep breath, glancing at the twins again. Robb shines in his daughter’s eyes as his son wears his gentle stare. Jon’s gaze shifts to (Y/n), pulling her into a sudden hug before he speaks, “They stripped Catelyn naked and threw her body in the river. Robb was beheaded, and they sewed Grey Wind’s head onto his body.”

(Y/n)’ s eyes flutter shut as she grips Jon tightly. The two say nothing as they hold each other. After seconds? Minutes? Hours? (Y/n) pulls back, her voice thick with tears, “Robb always did say I have a pesky habit of being right.”

“(Y/n), you’re back!” Arya rushes to her side, nearly tackling the transient to the ground. “How long are you staying this time? I’ve been practicing what you showed me with shooting arrows. If my father says yes, will you teach me swordplay and hunting like you?”

“Arya, slow down, (Y/n) just arrived, and you crowd her,” The young Stark girl pouts as Robb cuts her short.

“Quite frankly, it is you who crowds me,” (Y/n) crosses her arms, joining Arya’s side, who grins devilishly. Robb closes the space between himself and (Y/n), ignoring his younger sister entirely.

“The seconds I take my eye off of you, you find yourself gone by the fortnight usually less,” Robb says, flicking your necklace holding a Stark sigil pendant, “Nothing has changed. I still intend to marry you.”

His face mere inches from her, she ignores how Arya stomps away, grumbling about her brother. (Y/n) studies his features as she wets her lips with her tongue. Robb watches with his mouth ajar as his eyes focus on her lips. She leans in painstakingly slow with a smirk tugging at her mouth. The moment their lips meet, hers take his own fervently, and she pulls away without warning.

She speaks in an enchanting whisper, with Robb clinging to her presence, “We will never wed, my wolf.”

“You were going to marry. Robb loved you more than anything,” Jon runs his hand down her arm before retreating entirely.

“It does not matter. We did not, and now I raise bastards that the crown will want dead. Descendants of a traitor and usurper,” Eddard calls out Mama holding up his hand to show nothing but slobber and dirt. A weak smile takes her lips at her children, but tired eyes plague her.

“They are Starks, and so are you. Smart and Resilient. The grandchildren of the honorable Eddard Stark, the hand of the King. Son and daughter of Robb Stark, King of the North,” He watches as her eyes do not leave her children. Raina’s unwavering stare, just as intense as her mother's. (Y/n) chuckles wryly, looking off at nothing—her mind elsewhere.

“Are you going to marry my brother?” Sansa asks the second her mother leaves the room. (Y/n) laughs asking if all the Starks await her answer.

“Of course we do. You are perfect for each other; you must be together!” The young girl exclaims, unaware of how cold the real world can be. (Y/n) smiles softly, stuck between pitying and envying the beautiful young Stark.

“You love, love stories, Sansa?” The question pulls an enthusiastic nod from the young girl, “That is the thing, Sansa, they are only stories. Marrying your brother and becoming a Stark is a big decision. Much larger than just love.”

“But one day, you’ll be the Lady of Winterfell. You’ll make little Stark Lords and Ladies. You’ll be happy here,” Sansa’s hopeful smile spreads like a contagion. (Y/n) offers a weak smile, requesting a moment alone in her chambers. At the shut of her door, she stands in front of her mirror, hand on her necklace, allowing a long sigh to pass through her.

“What am I to do, Mother? What would you do?” Her hand on her necklace, running her finger over the pendant she added a few years back.

"I should have heard the advice I tried to teach Sansa. Love stories are merely stories,” She runs her hands over her face as Jon mulls over the past few years. He frowns, unable to phantom the thought of all she must have endured leading up to their reunion at Craster’s Keep. Jon’s sure she was not alone with her children, as she claims.

“You’re wrong,” His voice is low and gruff with a hint of a matter-of-fact tone as Samwell lulls the twins to sleep. She narrows her eyes at the stoic man with skepticism in his eyes.

“Not a chance Jon Snow lectures me on love,” She says, failing to see how Samwell quietly listens in.

“The last time I spoke to Robb, he grinned ear to ear after announcing the betrothal. When we all thought Theon had killed you I sent out a raven but I never heard back from Robb. People say he was devastated. Just because it ended in tragedy does not change the fact your story was one of love.”

She peeks up at Robb as he leans on his elbow, carefully tracing a finger down her spine. The fire and furs keep the room warm as the two lay bare and tangled. Robbs' eyebrows pull together, focusing intently.

“What is on the wolf's mind?” His traces halt before he meets her gaze, a smile painting his lips at the sight of her. The firelight makes her eyes shine, only adding to the features he already finds mesmerizing.

“My father is the hand of the King, so I must assume the responsibilities of Lord of Winterfell,” Robb speaks in a low hum as he studies her face. A sardonic smile takes her lips as a glint shines in her eyes.

“Oh no, Lord of Winterfell! The horror!” (Y/n) rolls away, giggling as Robb playfully grabs her. She struggles beneath his weight until his hands pin her wrists above her head. The following pause consists of heavy panting as she smiles at him. Robb’s smile softens as he catches his breath. The look in his eyes far different than his usual longing stares.

“Sansa is set to marry the Prince. Arya will likely marry some high Lord, and Jon is taking the black. Things are changing (Y/n). I want this, us. Lord and Lady Stark. One day Warden and Wardeness of the North,” Robb loosens his grip on her wrists as he near begs. (Y/n) made sure to steer clear during the arrival of the King and his family. The King, Lord Stark, and the girls were set to leave for Kings Landing and Jon for Castle Black in the morning.

“Why are you so certain in us?” She speaks barely above a whisper as Robb joins her, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“Because I know you, and I can make you happy. A simple life in Winterfell. Name a better match than us,” He challenges, saying his parents' names; the two of you chuckle quietly. The two falling quiet as she imagines the life Robb envisions for her in the North.

She does not dwell on the matter for long; staring up at the ceiling at his side, she cannot deny enjoying his presence. (Y/n) breaks the silence with amusement lacing her tone, “Your family is going to kill us for announcing this just before everyone leaves.”

Robb's head snaps in her direction as if she will disappear when he takes his eyes off her. She bites back her lower lip to reel in the giant smile that threatens her features. It takes Robb a few seconds to process her words before he cups her face. He grins like a madman as he captures her lips into a hasty kiss.

“Let’s marry with all your family in attendance,” She breathes in between kisses as he smothers her with his own lips.

“Our family,” He murmurs against her mouth as she places a gentle hand on his chest, pushing him back.

“You’re rather eager,” She teases; leaning close, he studies her thoroughly. Before holding a mocking tone and wide smile that glimmers in the low light, “We have a very serious responsibility of creating little Lords and Ladies of Winterfell.”

“Oh really?” Her playful smirk and soft chuckle erase all worries of the Starks heading to King's Landing.

“Of course, my Lady. When we have a girl, we shall name her Raina after your mother,” His words make her smile falter, her hand shooting to her necklace, “When she gets older, you can pass your necklace to her.”

“And if we have a boy?” Her eyes mist over as she covers with a gentle smile at his excitement.

“When we have a boy, little Robb Stark, will be second of his name!” Robb’s eyes twinkle as she rolls her own.

“Absolutely not,” She says, rolling to her opposite side, back facing the smirking Stark. He carefully kisses the crook of her neck, journeying up to the shell of her ear. His voice low and raspy, “I’m not done with you yet, Lady Stark.”

The door flying open makes the three rise to their feet. Ser Allister yells at Jon and Samwell that the Wildlings are coming. (Y/n) lifts the twins quickly, managing to not rouse them from their slumber, her sword dangling on her hip.

“Follow me. You can stay with Gilly and Little Sam,” Samwell says cheerily despite the circumstances as Robb exits the room first. Samwell follows behind Jon, and she walks behind them both. At the touch of the crisp North air, (Y/n) pulls the twins a little closer to her chest. She expertly navigates, walking downstairs, holding the two without looking down. At the bottom, Samwell turns left as Jon turns right, leaving (Y/n) to stare at Jon’s retreating figure. Her voice almost catches in her throat before she manages to call out his name. Jon halts, turning to find her staring with furrowed eyebrows and misty eyes.

“I—I can’t take another loss. Truly I am drained.” Her voice wavers as Raina snuggles further into her shoulder. She blinks back tears as Jon approaches her with a look she cannot figure out in his eyes.

“I’ll return to you soon. I promise,” Jon runs his hand gently over Eddard's face. The boy leans into the touch, blissfully unaware of the severity of the situation. (Y/n)’s face pales at his words as she fails to get insight on what the only other person she has left thinks.

“Robb made the same promise. I never saw him again,” Jon meets her weary gaze, sighing deeply at his promise. A promise that can very well be empty, one he cannot guarantee, at the sound of yelling from above marks the end of the conversation. Jon shakes off her words as ensuring she and her children not dying at the hand of Wildings becomes a top priority. Jon leaves her without another word, disregarding the haunted look in her eyes as she watches him walk away. Her eyes linger in his direction for several seconds before Samwell pulls her away.

(Y/n) sits with Brandon on his bed. Her days consist of helping Robb keep Winterfell afloat with both Lord and Lady Stark gone. Besides that, she spends her day keeping the little Lords company. The days seem almost ethereal as if (Y/n) and Robb hold all the happiness in the world.

Like a smokescreen before destruction, word of Lord Stark's arrest brings a halt to (Y/n) and Robb's domestic fantasy. She says nothing as Robb says goodbye to Brandon first. Waiting outside the door, she fidgets with her sleeve. Robb steps out of his brother’s room in full armor, appearing at ease.

“Let me come with you. You’ve seen me with a sword. You know I can handle myself,” (Y/n) pleas, stepping closer to him. He kisses her as if she’s made of glass taking her hands in his own. She sighs as he rubs patterns with his thumb on her palm.

“Exactly why I need you here with Bran and Rickon. In my absence, I gave word that my betrothed is the Lady of Winterfell to aid Bran. So when I return with my father and sisters, we will wed that very night,” The optimism in his tone does little to curb the uneasiness that boils in her chest. He moves to turn down the corridor, but she holds his hands a little tighter. A chuckle leaves his lips as he pulls her into another kiss, leaning his forehead against hers.

“I love you,” She mutters, and he smiles, saying the three words he has told her since they were small children.

“Don’t worry. I’ll return soon. I promise,” Robb says, walking with him to the gate. She lingers back as Robb and Theon speak. Grey Wind whines at her hand, begging her to pet his head which she obliges, muttering for the dire wolf to bring Robb home. At the sight of Robb climbing onto his horse, her mouth dries. Grey Wind runs toward the gates ahead of Robb, who slows and looks back. She wants to say something, anything really, but she does not. Robb flashes her a hopeful smile before riding off. She watches the gates long after Robb disappears from sight, unaware of what he takes with him and all he leaves behind.

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hum-suffer · 6 months

Note

Hi!

Jaime, Tommen and Myrcella, for the prompt “hug”?

Hellos there, dearest! Thank you for the lovely prompt!!

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Jaime creeps along the hallway, the midnight silence being the loudest noise in the hallway.

Cersei had, once again, proven to be a lying little—

As much as he loved his twin, as much as he was enamoured and endeared and absolutely whipped for her, Jaime Lannister did not appreciate left hanging without cause. He could have been easily sleeping by this time, for fuck's sake.

He pushes up the sleeves of his tunic on habit. His thumb brushes against the burn mark that stayed on the underside of his elbow for years and his breath still hitched. He purses his lips and cursed the Targaryen Dynasty once more, more than euphoric over the fact that he had all but ended the bloody fools.

The Mad King should have died before he was out of his mother's womb.

Jaime hears a whisper and a sniffle and he's instantly on alert. The dagger at his waist is unsheathed within a moment and he walks towards the sound, only to realise it's coming from behind a pillar.

He rounds the pillar in a quick step and stops short abruptly. It's Myrcella and Tommen.

Myrcella, dressed in an unbelievably beautiful saffron dress that looks like the fabric is made of magic, holds a blood stained Tommen. Jaime instantly kneels down and sheathes his dagger back. "Your highness?"

It's the first time that the address has bothered him to speak. Obviously, these children are but a result of his and Cersei's bond and they're a result of only that— a copy of him and his twin, but. But. Myrcella looks up at him with big eyes that are tearing up and a nose that is turning red, like his does when he's crying. Tommen is sobbing, hiccuping in a way that is so similar to a child Tyrion that Jaime can't help but want to wrap the boy in his arms.

"Uncle Jaime!" Myrcella wails,"Please, uncle Jaime, please, help us!"

"What's wrong, my princess?" He blinks when he sees them both wince at his voice and he barely stops himself from toppling over. He's barking at them.

Like Robert does.

His softens his voice. "Hush, my children, I apologise for scaring you. Tell me what is wrong so I can get it fixed, please."

It's only after he's finished speaking that he realises he called them his children. It's the truth, but a truth that can get them all killed— burned alive. As all truths often are, it's a truth that can cause death.

"It's Joffrey!" Tommen hiccups. "He—He killed Ser Pounce today. Father slapped him and—"

"And now he's terrorizing Tom!" Myrcella says, looking so ferocious, Jaime wonders how the fuck did anyone even believe these children to be any sorts of fucking stags. They're his. "Please, Uncle, you have to help us! Mother will never speak against Joff, she just scolded us for caring for Ser Pounce more than we care for Joff!"

So that's where she was, he notes distantly. He's somehow even more disappointed.

He doesn't know how to help these children, though. Cersei has already proven to be idiotic and Robert will only care enough to notice that he has three children intact.

But Jaime has raised Tyrion, he thinks. He has raised his younger brother. Joffrey inherited his cruelty from someone, and Jaime has never been in the habit of murdering pets so his younger brother gets progressively more upset.

It's almost like the past is repeating itself. Only, Myrcella is filling the role that Jaime had taken. It makes Jaime's heart ache, somehow. Is his daughter, his darling, his sweet, the best thing he's ever laid eyes on— is she destined for a fate as horrible as his? Unloved, uncared for, humiliated and unwanted?

Jaime pushes the thought away.

She's Myrcella, she's better. She's always going to be wanted, always loved, always cherished. He will die making sure of it if it's the last thing he does.

His children may have inherited his traits, but they will never inherit his fate.

He opens his arms slowly, feeling ridiculous. "How about you come to me and let me hold you, for now? I will see Joffrey and his behaviour, I promise that to you."

Tommen's eyebrows go up and he takes a hesitant step towards Jaime. Myrcella bites her lip but nods and takes a step as well. It's a trigger, and soon, they've taken the measly steps that cross the boundaries of uncle—niece/nephew courtesy. Tommen all but barrels into him and Jaime barely stops himself from falling on his ass.

He wraps his arms around the little boy and falls on the floor anyway to sit with his legs criss-crossed. Tommen seems to squeeze Jaime's sides with all his efforts, the child unable to reach Jaime's back. Jaime holds Tommen's head with his hand tenderly, the way he did when Cersei first placed Tommen in his arms, less than an hour after he was born.

Jaime shifts, pulls Tommen at his side completely and extends his hand to Myrcella, who'd been only clinging to the cloth of his breeches. Myrcella's lips quiver again and she launches herself in his arms.

Jaime has always run away from crying women in general unless it's Cersei, but. It's his daughter that's crying in his arms, probably regretting the family she has been born into.

The feeling of holding them in his arms feels like a privilege.

Myrcella hugs Jaime just as hard and he has his arms supporting the two of them. He's never been too well read, but this feels poetic. They will have his support, they will have his heart as their hearth. He is wholly theirs.

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