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#Tywin Lannister
quixoticclown · 11 months
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Yes, these Muppets have taken Manhattan. The question now is can they HOLD it
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kudriaken · 5 months
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House Lannister. My fanart series for the Great Houses from the ASOIAF. I wanted to make this for the longest time.
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knightsickness · 5 months
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‘if joanna had lived the lannisters would have been normal/nicer’ WRONG i think she would have married cersei off as geographically far away as possible and then started doing some the lion in winter shit with jaime. she refuses to acknowledge tyrion because in surviving his birth she’s gone from a victim of tywin’s imp to his mother an accomplice there must have been something wrong with her to birth him like that. do not fall into the all dead mothers were really soft and niceys fallacy
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francy-sketches · 7 days
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cringe ass family ❤
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duckytree · 7 months
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a lot of problems would’ve been avoided if cps existed in the got verse
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jeyneofpoole · 2 months
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asoiaf dash simulator again
🌼 night-of-flowerz-girl
the blatant misinformation on this waebsyte is crazyyyy. guys. loras tyrell is NOT DEAD that is literally lannister propaganda 😭 please check your sources omg how do you think his family feels???
🛡️ fieldmaiden
margaery tyrell can dry her tears on the finest cloth of gold for all i care have we not established that the tyrells are smallfolk panderers who only talk about serf issues to keep us placated and working their fields? stand UP. anyways tyrelloverparty forever hope the burns hurt 🙏
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🍃 greenseeeerr
omfg stop lusting after the children of the forest they are literally minor coded 😭😭😭 what is wrong with you people!!!!!
💄 andalsandal
hey op what the fuck does this mean
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🐻 moremont
me and my big hairy bear husband have three beautiful daughters and i couldn’t be happier
🐻 moremont
THE ANIMAL.
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⚡️dondarriugh
omfg beric is DEAD??????
⚡️ dondarriugh
ok there are some conflicting reports in my inbox hold on
⚡️ dondarriugh
oh no he’s actually dead. fly high king!!!!!
⚡️ dondarriugh
wait what????
⚡️ dondarriugh
WHAT IS HAPPENING
⛳️ brotherhood-without-banners-official
Lord Dondarrion is hale and hearty, thanks be to the Lord of Light ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
⚡️ dondarriugh
HELLO??????
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🛖 small-folk-big-ass
save me bowl of brown…… bowl of brown…… bowl of brown save me…….
🛖 small-folk-big-ass
hopital
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🐉 rhaeeenyraaa
the revisionist history on here is fucking insaneeeee. cersei lannister is NOT maegor come again guys let’s use our critical thinking skills ok?????
🚬 sourleef
cersei lannister is a nepo baby who dicks down her twin brother on the regular and squeezes out evil kids with weak jawlines like it’s a sport. let’s not act like she’s some kind of win for wench suffrage she’s a fucking dictatorial monarch
🍁 weirdwood
wait don’t you mean her twin brother is dicking her down?????
🚬 sourleef
i know what i said.
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🐕 ramsay-bitch-imagines
IMAGINE…
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You’re Ramsay’s favorite dog, and he wants to reward you after a successful hunt.
WARNING: DEAD DRAGON DO NOT EAT!!!!!DON’T LIKE, DON’T READ!!!!
Read More
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🐋 s4ltw1fe
who’s going to tell lady asha that she doesn’t have to date those foppish little boys as community service. don’t worry queen EYE see your caerybaenor……
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👤 reynesofcastamere-deactivated-3738372920
lmao that blonde little cuck is NOT getting his gold back
👤 tarbeckhall-deactivated-4748392038383
we should hook up for rebellion lol. what’s he even gonna do about it?
🦁 hear-me-roar
hey guys.
🧼 barmaid
oh my god this is THE post
🍺 pintofale
holy shit i never thought i’d see this outside of illuminated vellum screenshots
🪡 tall-tailor
this post is a fucking graveyard
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winterprince601 · 4 months
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the battle between the starks and the lannisters at the twins in got is actually a battle between the parenting of ned stark and tywin lannister.
this is the first battle to which tyrion brings his vale mountain clan soldiers and tywin places him in the left vanguard, essentially as a diversion/sacrifice. he does not share his strategy, as outlined above, with tyrion because he claims he doesn't 'trust' him. he assumes tyrion will fail and so when he succeeds, it upsets his plans.
he expects as little from robb stark, an untried boy. but what he doesn't understand is that ned has prepared his son for leadership. he hasn't hoarded his authority from him, desperate for dominance over everyone including his family. he's brought robb with him when he carried out his duties as a lord. he's educated him in battle strategy but more importantly, he has not glamorised war to him. robb is not eager to go plunging into battle and he's not battling for the sake of it. he knows the burden of his responsibility as a lord and he even knows when to delegate it: tywin's first shock was that the freys were in the stark host because robb trusted his mother to negotiate a hard bargain on his behalf. all of this contrasts tywin's neglect of tyrion and even his adulation of jaime's prowess - in the same chapter before the battle, he admonishes tyrion: "does the thought of facing the stark boy unman you, tyrion? your brother jamie would be eager to come to grips with him." ironically the kind of foolhardy behaviour he expects and criticises from robb, he encourages in jaime. this is because tywin doesn't actually want an heir to succeed his rule, he wants a shiny trophy to flatter it. only of course, tywin is not immortal. as this chapter foreshadows, his inability to parent or relinquish any power will be his undoing.
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fandom-puff · 22 days
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Fulfilling Duty
Pairing: Tywin Lannister x Reader
Warnings: smut, pinv sex, fingering, reference to pregnancy and childbirth, brief reference to death during childbirth, reference to prostitution, implied arranged marriage, breeding kink, body image issues, implied innocence kink, older man/younger woman.
Italics indicate flashback
Gif creds to owner
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After nine long months of pregnancy and two gruelling days of labour, Tywin Lannister finally had the son he craved. Little Darrick was perfect in every way. At almost four months, he guzzled his milk the way King Robert his guzzled his wine; he roared like a lion when something was amiss, fat angry tears pouring down his reddened little face until his mother or father consoled him; his hair thickened and lightened every day, though he showed no trace of Lannister emerald eyes (much you your elation; he already looked so much like Tywin so it was nice to see a shred of yourself in your son’s face).
The birth of your son only strengthened Tywin’s… affection towards you. It was not love- not yet at least- but his respect and fondness certainly grew. During the home stretch of your labour he had barged into the birthing room after overhearing an outspoken courtier’s gossip.
Your labour had dragged on and almost two whole days had passed since you first started having pains. While you had started in relatively high spirits, as progress began to falter almost to a halt and ‘one more push’ became an empty promise, your resolve almost completely shattered.
What had started as determined groans and howls of pain turned into whimpers, and then sobs as you begged the maester to just, please, get it out of you.
It seemed Tywin hadn’t unclenched his jaw for days, and while he wanted to remain just a room away in his office should he be called into the room, the Seven Kingdoms would not stop for any infant, not even the son of the Hand.
He had been walking back from an audience with disgruntled artisans from the city when he overheard some courtiers.
“… glad she’s shut up with the screaming, could hardly sleep a wink last night…”
“… should just cut her open, drag the babe out and have done with it… wouldn’t be the first Lannister woman to die in childbed…”
“… he’ll want another off her, just in case… especially if she gives him a girl…”
Tywin’s nostrils flared with rage, and while he would have so dearly loved to confront the gossiping courtiers, he marched to the tower of the hand, entering your chamber to the shock of your midwives and maester.
“Milord! Women’s work is still happening! The baby ain’t here yet,” scolded Jeyne. She was the eldest of the flock midwives attending you and the most experienced too, and had been crucial in supporting you.
Tywin held up his hand, and jeyne pursed her lips, knowing she could not argue. “Fine. But you’re not to interfere down here, milord. We’re nearly there,”
“You said that- ah- last night,” you said weakly, your voice shaky. Tywin sighed softly and knelt at your side, pushing your hair away from your face. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, one that he had done when you consummated your marriage. “‘M sorry, m-my lord,” you whispered, unable to stop the tears from slipping down your already damp cheeks.
“You needn’t be,” he said lowly, speaking so only you could hear. “You are doing well, just a little longer,”
Although the midwives and maester had repeated the same words over and over again over the last day, Tywin’s firm, authoritative voice reassured you, renewing your determination.
Tywin’s eyes flicked sideways to you. It was the first public event you had attended since giving birth, and he had kept a close eye on you all day. He’d even insisted on your retiring to bed for several hours in between the joust and the feast (“fine, I’ll rest. But only because I didn’t want to watch the archery anyway,”).
If you were tired, it did not show. You looked radiant, smiling serenely as you clapped for the dancing. You had changed into a gown of soft pink brocade, and while he always preferred to have you on his arm in matching Lannister red, he had to admit that the muted pink suited you beautifully, and provided a fresh and youthful contrast to his daughter’s sour, almost vulgar even by his standards, display of power.
“If you continue to glance at me so, you will miss the dancing, husband,” you said out of the corner of your mouth, bemused at the almost uncharacteristic attentiveness of the Old Lion.
“Then I shall miss the dancing,” he said lowly, though he kept his eyes dutifully on the entertainments. “Are you sure you will not sit?”
You rolled your eyes, turning to face him fully. “No,” you said with exasperation. “I am well rested, I promise you, My Lord,” your lips quirked into a smirk. “I may even join in with the dancing,” you added.
Tywins jaw clenched as he looked down at his mischievous young wife. Your pregnancy and subsequent birthing of a viable heir for him had consolidated your power in court- and your worth in the marriage. “Then you shall dance only with me,” he said. “I will not have you jostled so,”
And so the Lord Paramount of the West took his wife by the hand and led her to the dance floor, lest she be manhandled by less careful members of court.
Grinning, you held onto his hand, beginning the steps that you had known since childhood. “I so love it when you give in to my whims, Lord Lannister,” you murmured, laughing lightly at his grumble of agreement. He supposed he owed you a fair bit, now that you had given him his heir.
“You are as stubborn as a mule when you want to be, wife,” he muttered, pulling you closer to his body by the waist as a drunken jester weaved through the crowd, his motley cap jingling. But despite his complaints, Tywin permitted you two more dances, before you retreated from the crowd- the bawdy songs had began, and he would not have his wife passed about like the maidens in the songs.
Instead of sitting back down, Tywin took you before the king, bowing and excusing the two of you. “We must retire for the night, your Grace. Lady Lannister is very tired,” he said shortly, bowing once more as the king waved you away.
You followed him, your face indignant, but you did not dare question him until you were out of earshot of any high lords. “I most certainly am not tired, My Lord,” you said, running a little to keep up with his long strides. “I do not need to be bundled off to bed like a child- again,”
Tywin ignored your complaints, only speaking once you arrived at the entrance to the Tower- and even then he only spoke to the guard at the door. “No one is to enter this tower until tomorrow,” he said lowly, before all but frog-marching you through the door and up the winding stairs.
“My lord?” You asked cautiously when you arrived at his chambers. “Have I displeased you?”
Tywin turned around to face you. “No, wife,” he murmured, stepping closer to you so that you had to look up at him. “You have not displeased me… exasperated, perhaps, but not displeased,” you smiled slightly, opening your mouth to speak, but Tywin cupped your head with both of his hands, his thumbs stroking your jaw. “I intend to bed you tonight, My Lady,” he said, voice gravelly. Your face heated, but you nodded slowly. “Your body should be ready to take me once more,” he continued. “That is if you are agreeable?” He added, raising a brow. He had laid out from the beginning that while he expected you to do your duty and provide him with a son, he would not have you in his bed unwilling.
Nodding slowly, eyes wide as you stared up at him, you let out a shaky breath. "I… yes. Please," you murmured your consent, following him out of the solar to his adjoining bedchamber, where the hearth was crackling and the luxurious bedsheets were already turned down. Tywin poured out a cup of wine, offering you it, nodding when you smiled at the vintage before finishing the cup for you.
“Do you think it will hurt?” You murmured out of the blue, taking your jewellery off and setting it on his dresser.
“It may be a little uncomfortable, perhaps. Not as painful as childbirth, I’m sure, nor breaking your maidenhead,” your eyes widened at his words and he smirked. He so loved to see you flustered. “Such an innocent, wife,” he said, stepping closer to you and undoing the pins in your hair. He nodded his approval when you unwound the braids, shaking out your hair.
“It has been a while…” you considered, looking up at him in the mirror as he stepped behind you, beginning to unlace your gown.
“It has,” he said in agreement.
“Will you be gentle with me?” You whispered, eyes widening as his hand slipped up your front, over your breasts, lightly squeezing your throat before he tilted your head to the side.
“Absolutely not,” he growled into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his teeth grazing there as your gown fell stiffly to the floor.
You made to turn to begin undressing him, but he lightly batted your hands away, continuing to strip you of your stays and chemise until you were bare before him.
Eyes downcast, you made to wrap your arms around yourself; your pregnancy had left it’s mark on your body, your belly soft and marked with stretch marks, your breasts hanging heavier than they had when you first married. Tywin held your hands by your sides briefly, before his large hands claimed your hips, his thumbs massaging the softness of your belly. “I want another babe in your belly before year’s end,” he said lowly, making you shiver. “I want to watch you swell again with another of my heirs,”
“Yes, my lord,” you breathed, your breath hitching as he gripped your hips tighter, drawing your naked body to his, your skin hot against the cool metalwork of his belt and buttons. Slowly, he began to walk you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed, and he helped you up onto the mattress, his eyes blazing with lust. His green-gold eyes pierced you as he removed his chain of linked golden hands, his doublet, his boots and trousers too. Your eyes flicked down briefly as you admired your husband’s build; despite his age, Tywin was fit and strong, and your glance did not go unnoticed by him.
Tywin got up onto the bed, looking down at you as he came up between your legs, which fell apart willingly to allocate his breadth, to which he hummed with approval, his hands dragging up your thighs. You sighed softly as your body refamiliarised itself with the weight atop it, offering him a soft, shy smile. He returned it with a rare quirk of his lips, before his fingers teased closer to your exposed core, shushing you gently when you gasped. Whimpering, you arched your back as he dipped his fingers into your waiting wetness, body tense. “Are you in pain, wife?” He said lowly, his movements stilling.
“No…” you whispered, pushing your hips up to his hand as if to reassure him.
He nodded, looking down at you as his fingers worked you open for the first time in months, though he did not seem out of practice in the slightest. He watched intently as your face contorted, brow furrowing and mouth falling open, and your body twisted while you clenched around his fingers. When he felt the erotic spasming of your inner walls, he nodded and hummed with satisfaction, before withdrawing his fingers. You watched in awe as he used your release coating his fingers and dripping onto his palm to slick up his cock.
“You look as though you belong in a pleasure house in Lys, spread out like that,” he said, his voice gravelly with desire. And he had a point; your breasts rose and fell with shaky, heavy breaths; your eyes were now dark with lust, brow furrowed and lips plump as you stared down at him, propped up on the pillows with your hair splayed out.
“Are you calling me a whore, My Lord?” You questioned, pushing yourself up on your elbows.
“No,” he said, guiding his cock to you. “But if you were a whore, you would be mine alone,”
He grunted, pushing into your tightness. With a cry, you tossed your head back, your nails clawing into the Lion of Lannister’s muscled back and arms as you adjusted to his invasion. You hissed out a curse between your teeth, gasping as he stilled, smirking down at you. “Such deplorable language,” he said, and you could only whimper in response, gritting your teeth and scratching at his back. Despite his promise to not be gentle with you, he held you tight to his body by your thigh, massaging the quivering limb with his hand as you adjusted to the suffocating tightness of your union. With a needy whine, you rolled your hips experimentally, grinding your clit against his pubis. The resulting tightening of your channel had him hissing in pleasure, and with a low groan he began to move with slow deep thrusts that had your head spinning.
One hand still gripping his bicep like a vice, you trailed your other hand over his shoulder anchoring yourself as you made feeble attempts to meet his movements. Grunting, Tywin grasped onto your hips, before moving his grip to your thighs, holding them apart as he began to fuck you harder, faster. You cried out at the shift in pace, arching your back as Lord Tywin took his pleasure (though he gave just as much as he took). He let out a groan of pleasure as his own thighs trembled and his hips stuttered, and he emptied his seed into you.
Moaning lowly, you fell back into the pillows, panting. You felt the bed dip then settle as he withdrew from you and stood, and your eyes slipped shut as you heard him rustling about the room, the door slamming shut. You frowned. He must have dressed quickly. With a sigh, you stood up, albeit shakily and slipped your chemise back on. His thick seed seeped down your thigh as you stood before the mirror, combing out the tangles in your hair with your fingers.
The door opened, and Tywin stepped into the room, but before he acknowledged you, he turned to what you assumed was his squire. “Have the servants bring up two plates from the feast, and a flagon of Arbor Gold,” he said to the lad, who responded with a quiet ‘yes, My Lord.’ “And see to it that Lady Lannister’s handmaidens know to come here on the morrow with her gown and jewels. She will be staying here tonight,”
He dismissed the squire with a nod and shut the door, turning to you with raised eyebrows. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to return to my own chambers, my Lord,” you murmured, finally able to smooth your hair down over your shoulders.
“Indeed not,” he said simply. “I was merely arranging some supper and wine,”
You crossed your arms. “And for my handmaidens to come here on the morrow?” You teased.
Tywin only smirked, prowling over to you. “Indeed,” he said. “It would seem, wife, that we must return to bed…” you cocked your head to the side, looking up at him curiously. “An heir will not find its way into your belly if my seed is dripping down your thighs, now, will it?”
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melrosing · 18 days
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Tywin Lannister caramelldansen easily my weirdest contribution to this fandom
more here
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c-m-li · 2 months
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Tywin Lannister's greatest trick was convincing everyone he was more clever than he actually was.
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People are still quoting him in this as if it's a great question and he was in the right.
Except people forget, Tywin Lannister convinced people to forget -
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They didn't just kill a dozen men at dinner.
Yes, they killed the wedding party, but everyone forgets that Robb Stark had a third of his army at the Twins with him that the Frey's and the Bolton's slaughtered.
Tywin didn't choose between killing a dozen men at dinner or 10,000 in battle, he did both.
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mormontdacey · 27 days
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oh to be tywin lannister in agot…
your son and presumed heir what’s-his-name has been kidnapped and is still at large. last you heard he was in the vale maybe? but you haven’t checked and you’re not planning to
this is low priority because your daughter (derogatory) has launched a coup to kill her drunk husband the king and seize power. she accidentally gets a two-for-one deal when her impulsive and suspiciously blond son has the second most powerful man in the country killed for shits and giggles on the steps of the westerosi vatican. now your house is fighting a five-front war.
your favorite child—who is both the best swordsman in the realm and a national disgrace—is leading your far superior armies but he’s getting his ass kicked by a high school freshman and his pet dog, so you’ve got no choice but to head to the riverlands to clean up the mess. but zero worries because nothing EVER goes wrong in the riverlands!!!!
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knightsickness · 9 months
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big fan of tywin’s standard for being a lannister not even slightly resembling the history of the house it’s just something he made up. tyrion and jaime are extremely in line with the lannister legacy of guile heroism/being cunts but fail to live up to tywin’s vision for the house which never actually existed it references nothing
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stormborns · 4 months
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GAME OF THRONES 2.05, The Ghost of Harrenhal
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laurellerual · 7 months
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I love this things @melrosing
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rax-writes · 8 months
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↬ when night falls
Tywin Lannister x Reader
intended to be a sequel to the morning after, but it's not necessary that you read it prior to this
Warnings: Smut, MDNI, 18+ ONLY ⇆ P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap, nipple play, bit of breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, pregnant!reader
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The journey from Winterfell to King's Landing took considerably longer than necessary, given the Queen's insistence that she travel in that godsforsaken carriage of hers. As such, five weeks after your marriage to Tywin Lannister, you were spending one final night in a lavish red and gold tent alongside your lord husband.
For the entirety of the journey, the two of you spent the entire day apart – your horse trotting behind your father and King Robert, and Tywin a short distance behind, alongside Ser Jamie. Occasionally, Arya would pester you into allowing her to sit in front of you on the saddle, as you quietly conversed with her and taught her how to control the horse. But, aside from that, you were alone with your thoughts all day, every day.
The nights, however, were spent in the arms of your lord husband.
The two of you quite quickly developed a very… peculiar dynamic. You had quickly learned and adapted to the way the fearsome Tywin Lannister operates – preferring you speak concisely and directly, vehemently uninterested in anything otherwise. Additionally, there was a degree of mutual respect, as well as a vaguely guarded openness to one another – but certainly no love, or any semblance of romantic feelings at all. In truth, you assumed there never would be.
But gods was there lust.
On your end, it was your first and only experience with sex, and it was undeniably good, so you were eager for it. On his end… you couldn't be sure. It could be that the man was pent up from years as a bachelor, but it would be safe to assume he had simply sent for a whore when the mood struck him. A more likely reason would be his pursuit of an heir, but surely he wouldn't have needed to fill your cunt nightly to achieve that goal. No, you were almost certain that he was simply enjoying fucking you – just as much as you were enjoying fucking him.
When Tywin entered the tent, you were sitting on the edge of the cot, toying with the goblet in your hands, already undressed to your shift. He met your eyes as he entered, but said nothing, that unreadable (but somehow always leaning toward annoyed) expression on his face. He silently began taking off his boots, then removed his sword and placed it beside the cot. He was in the middle of pouring wine into his goblet when you found the courage to ask your question.
"Will you stop bedding me when I become pregnant?"
Tywin said nothing, setting the pitcher down and turning to face you as he took a sip of his wine. He wore that calm, calculating expression as he stared at you – but you could swear there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. The golden goblet made a faint clank as he set it down before speaking.
"Do you ask because you wish for me to stop? Or because you wish for me to continue?"
"I wish for you to continue."
"Then I shall continue," Tywin stated, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Good," you replied, then added, "Because I am."
"You are what?"
"Pregnant."
The smile dropped and Tywin's eyebrows raised, making his forehead crinkle.
"Already?" he inquired dryly, surprised. Then, incredulous, he asked, "How do you know?"
It was a fair question. You had never been pregnant before, so perhaps you were mistaking soreness and fatigue from travel as signs of pregnancy. But no. You knew.
"I should have bled three weeks ago, but I have not. My breasts are extremely tender, and certain smells make my stomach turn."
Tywin nodded, then stated, "I do not doubt that you are right, but we will have a Maester provide his confirmation and look you over when we arrive in King's Landing. In the meantime, is there anything you need?"
A faint but wicked smile spread across your face, and you stood from the bed, setting the goblet down as you slowly made your way over to him. The metal of his armor was cold beneath your fingers as you idly ran your hands over his chest, before toying with the belt around his hips, looking up at him through your lashes.
"You," was your simple answer. But both of you knew that it wasn't meant in a romantic, sweet sort of way.
Tywin's hand reached up to cradle your face, somewhat harshly, hooking his thumb under your jaw to tilt your head up and kiss you. It was lustful and full of desire, accompanied by the scratch of his beard upon the delicate skin of your face.
When he pulled away, Tywin smiled quite faintly, then hummed lowly and said, "Well, what sort of man would I be to deny his pregnant lady wife her wish?"
The old lion made quick work of removing his armor and smallclothes, and relieving you of the thin linen shift you wore, before guiding you to the luxurious cot. Tywin continued to kiss you, eventually trailing kisses down your neck, until he reached your chest, unexpectedly taking one of your breasts into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.
The sensation nearly made you shout, opting to take in a sharp breath instead as your back arched off the blankets. Eyes squeezed shut, you heard a low chuckle, and looked down to see a set of very amused, crystalline eyes staring up at you.
"Hm, I see you were not exaggerating about the sensitivity."
Electing to ignore him, you let your head fall back onto the pillow. However, it seemed he did not intend to grant you any reprieve, moving to the other breast and doing the same thing – prompting you to dig your nails into his shoulders and bite your lip to avoid crying out. Unfortunately, that made matters worse, as Tywin let out a low groan with his lips still wrapped around your nipple, earning a loud, pitiful whine from you.
Seemingly enjoying himself, Tywin began peppering your chest with gentle bites, which he soothed with his tongue afterwards, sure to become small little bruises by morning. Breathy moans and sighs of pleasure filled the tent, as he then resumed his ministrations on the hardened peaks of your breasts before snaking one hand down to toy with your clit, expertly rubbing it in small, steady circles. Astoundingly fast, your release washed over you, soaking his hand as you moaned and writhed beneath the Warden of the West – who only chuckled darkly at your quick climax.
Noticing that the continued kisses and licks upon your breasts began to make you twitch, Tywin captured your lips in a brief, rough kiss, before rolling onto his back. He then pulled you into his lap, with a strength one wouldn’t assume the older man to still possess – which was, admittedly, arousing. Your mind was still foggy from the orgasm, and your movements were not unlike a rag doll, eyes half-lidded and jaw slack, moving somewhat limply as you allowed him to maneuver you. He gripped his hard, leaking cock in one hand, then reached behind you to urge you forward with a flat palm on the small of your back.
A hiss through gritted teeth escaped Tywin, and you gasped lightly, head thrown back and hands flat on his chest. Although you’d already lost count of how many times he’d taken you, it still felt more incredible than anything you’d ever experienced. A passing thought reminded you of the fact that he seemed to share the sentiment, always hissing or groaning when he first sheathed himself inside you.
Tywin’s grip moved to your hips, prompting you to begin rocking them against his own, keeping your pace steady. However, he made no move to halt you when you eventually began to move faster, leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs as you fucked yourself on his long, thick cock. The sound of it alone would have made a Septa drop dead – a symphony composed of wet skin upon skin and gruff grunts intermingling with breathy moans.
He reached up to grasp and knead your breasts in his rough, calloused hands – but he then surprised you, his hands drifting lower, until they rested flat against your lower stomach. You thought perhaps he was focusing on the movement of your hips, but then his thumbs began to stroke across the soft skin of your belly.
At first, it seemed very sweet and sentimental. You thought that perhaps he was basking in the joy of another child being on the way – until you felt the way his cock throbbed, deep inside of you, as he stared intently at your belly. Immediately, you came to the realization that it must be arousing for a man to have successfully fucked a babe into his wife – stroking their ego and their pride to have done their husbandly duty, as well as show everyone that you belong to them.
Truth be told, you were surprised to learn that it aroused you just as much.
Tywin groaned as you clenched around him, and when his eyes flicked up to meet yours, it felt as though he knew you had been thinking the very same thing he was.
That seemed to ignite something within your husband, and in the blink of an eye, Tywin flipped you onto your back and began driving into your soaked cunt with a newfound ferocity. You bit down on your knuckle to keep quiet, but Tywin pinned both of your wrists down, his arms on either side of your head. The act did not last much longer beyond that point, both parties having already been too near the precipice of climax, and the pair of you met your releases in unison.
Tywin rolled off of you, breathing heavily, a light layer of sweat covering his chest, along with the small patches of silver hair. You allowed yourself a few moments of recovery, before moving to leave the cot in order to extinguish the candles, as well as tidy yourself up. However, Tywin grabbed your arm to stop you.
“Where are you going?”
“The candles –”
“Can wait,” Tywin interrupted, voice sounding unbothered as always, albeit with a hint of fatigue. He exhaled slowly, as he gently pulled you back down to lay upon the cot beside him. “One of the guards outside can see to the candles in a moment. You are carrying my heir, so you are to rest. As much as is feasible, from now until the babe is born. And if anyone questions it, they are to discuss it with me.”
Anyone possessing the sense the gods gave a mule knows “discussing” something with Tywin Lannister was just the opposite – it was not to be addressed at all, because what Tywin Lannister says, goes. A fact which made you smile softly.
“As my lord husband commands,” you replied, a hint of sarcasm in your tone, but you did exactly as he bade you, pulling some of the blankets over you and nestling into the pillows. You were already yawning by the time Tywin called for a guard, who extinguished the candles, and bathed the room in darkness as you drifted into a deep, contented sleep.
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dragons-and-handcuffs · 7 months
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After marrying Tywin, to Stark!Readers utter humiliation, she’s near constantly pregnant. Continuously pushing out blonde haired, green eyed babies that look nothing like Starks. Within a few months of giving birth to one child, Tywin already has her legs over his shoulders and breeding another one into her warm cunt. She’s not safe when she’s pregnant either, with Tywin still commanding she mount and ride his cock even while in her third trimester.
You are always pregnant. That's how Tywin likes you. You are ashamed that not one child resembles any of the stark traits and only look like a Lannister but it brings Tywin great pleasure.
You have soon realized that Tywin likes to fuck you even more while you are pregnant. He makes you get on your knees and serve him, his cock in your mouth while you are pregnant and naked or after you gave birth. He just casually pulls you sensitive nipples while talking to you, making you feel like you are there for only one purpose. He makes you ride him while pregnant, telling you how you have disgraced house stark and is now his property. He will lovingly caress your swollen belly and feel his son while roughly pulling your hair.
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