pairing jaime lannister x reader genre smut reader is a male. top!reader x bottom!jaime cw drinking beforehand, reader has a big dick, first-time anal, mention of jaime being a whore (1), spit as lube, abrupt ending
Jaime Lannister despised you.
You were a new addition to the Kingsguard by the recommendation of a seasoned commander, and yes, you’re exceptionally skilled and determined and like no other man.
But you’re crude with a young ego festering like a deathly disease Westeros hasn’t come to discover yet.
You challenge Jaime—no, worse than that. You mock him, and you do it frustratingly well.
And Jaime hates all of it.
He hates you; your handsome grin that vanishes too quickly to be completely seen, your familiar frown that haunts his mind late at night, your stupid strength that immobilizes just about anyone, and your equally stupid, large cock.
One thing about Jaime was that he wasn’t a crippling alcoholic, gods no, but he drank and you drank and now he’s bent over a table in a dirty storage room.
The upper half of his armor and smallclothes remained worn, but his pants were loosely bunched around his ankles. You, on the other hand, were the exact definition of a nightmare. Your own pants were undone, and they were hanging around your thighs, but not enough to feel bare.
Then there was your hard cock. Your hand wrapped around the base, guiding the head of it to rub against Jaime’s clothed hole. He can feel how wet you’ve become, the slickness of your pre-cum dampening the soft material of his smallclothes.
It was disgusting. You were disgusting.
But that didn’t stop him from angling his hips backwards to press against you, as if he was wordlessly coaxing you to come fuck him like he was some easily disposable brothel whore. A status that he will never achieve, but he felt like he has. You were shamelessly rutting against him like an animal; your cock sliding right in between his lower cheeks but never entering him.
Gods, it was maddening. He can feel the weight of your cock, the mere thickness of it rubbing over his ass—and for once, he allowed himself to want another like this. Allowed himself to want a man, above all.
But you just had to tease him.
“Come on...” Jaime muttered through clenched teeth, not realizing that he did utter the words aloud until you respond with a low hum.
“Hm?”
“Fuck me,” he growled, a tinge of heat flushing his face. “That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”
You breathe out a short laugh, “Not yet. Just let me feel you.”
He was going to have your head on a spike after this.
Though, the mere notion didn’t last long enough to take complete root into his head when you hook your thumb beneath the waistband of his smallclothes and tug them down, making Jaime let out an embarrassing gasp. He was dry, and his inexperience in receiving cock was nothing but guaranteed.
That won’t stop either of you, not when Jaime himself was eager.
Jaime instinctively arched his back as he folded one of his arms in front of him to act as a shield for his face while the other, the one with his only flesh hand, braced the edge of the furniture. He didn’t look your way, not yet at least, but he sensed you leaning down and that’s when he felt it.
Drool—slick and yours. It dripped over his untouched hole, and you spat directly against it once more in a way that had Jaime lightly biting down on the skin of his inner arm to suppress the pathetic whimper that wanted to escape him.
You gently pressed the pad of your finger against him, feeling up the intense coil of muscles attempting to resist the pleasure you were about to bring. “Stay still,” you whispered low, before slowly sinking your digit into his heat.
“I am—fuck,” his voice broke into a rough groan, his walls automatically clamping down around you. Both his mind and body uncertain if they want to push you out or keep you right where you belonged.
You gladly make the decision for him, and you carefully ease your finger in down to the last knuckle. The stretch itself was supposedly mild, but Jaime’s thighs shook with the solidified effort of keeping himself where he was. His brows drew together in a line, his muscles growing taut, but just for you, he tried to focus on breathing through his nose to have you know that he can take more.
It was a matter of reckless pride on his part, but there was no reason for applause.
...Perhaps there was, if only it was for the way Jaime’s hole swallowed your cock like a true king born to sit on the Iron Throne.
You were barely halfway inside, and the Golden Lion in front of you mentally concluded that it was more than enough. He whimpered—the small noise bitten-off and no less whiny, and stubbornly, it was decently masked with a sharp exhale. Your cock was so fucking thick and, even worse (or better), throbbing inside of him. Like you found pleasure in nowhere else besides torturing him.
“Wait,” Jaime barked, the command useless in his breathless tone.
“Is it too much, Kingslayer?” You teased, kindly brushing the palm of your hand over the small of his back to ease the tiniest of tremors currently ruling his skin. Though, your use of his supposed title that’s known for its derogatory nature was anything but.
You did not judge him for putting an end to the Mad King.
And that made Jaime unexpectedly clench down around you.
“Shut up—!” Jaime snapped, his chest heaving as he bucked backwards against you. Only to gasp when he realized too late that it caused you to sink further into him, “Ah! Haah, fuck—ah—don’t m-move until I tell you to.”
You huff, mildly exasperated, but you obey anyway.
Your actions were contrasting with his usual viewpoint of you—a man too cruel and too unloving to fuck someone else so considerately in spite of the agonizing words you speak. It made Jaime want to cry, both from how you were splitting him inside out and from how you were being somewhat kind towards him.
He felt an unreasonable gush of greed.
You didn’t belong to him, and he didn’t belong to you, but he sensed no inkling of an opposing front left if it came down to that.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
“Move. Now.”
There’s no way around other than to feel your cock sliding out of him inch by inch until only the head was being clung onto by his wet, stretched rim. Jaime panted, a bit irritated now, as he tilted his lower half to further accommodate and unmistakably please you.
“Tell me,” you whisper, leaning over his back, “How many men have fucked you like this?”
Slowly, you roll your hips, making him full once more.
“Mmh... n-none. ‘S just you—!” Jaime gasped, his words honest, the pressure sending a shudder across the length of his spine. “Just—hmmn—you!”
