Persisting, Jaime/Sansa, M+just_a_dramMay 15 2013, 16:47:11 UTC
Her leg is silky and firm with youth. The feel of it conjures up a ripple of a memory and with his whole arm, his left hand, lightly teasing over the length of her thigh and hitching it up over his own, he can almost pretend, but the pale of her skin is a striking contrast to his tanned arm, spoiling the effect.
That’s for the best, perhaps, for when he’s had enough wine to dull the senses or she’s especially cross with him and gives him a stern look upon his entry into her chambers, he sometimes pretends quite well. Those nights always ends up in angry taunts on his end-angry with himself for not giving her what she wants and angry with her for not being exactly what is inscribed upon his bones to desire-and a door closed to him for weeks on hers.
Too rough. He’s too rough when he forgets not so much himself but her, forgets who she’s not
( ... )
Re: Persisting, Jaime/Sansa, M+just_a_dramMay 15 2013, 16:47:48 UTC
They have been traveling for days, making their way back from a royal progress to visit the houses of the north, Sansa’s bannermen. His muscles ache from days in the saddle; hers must bother her all the more, for she is unaccustomed to the strain, and yet, by the way she arches her body against him, bringing them together so that she might tease him with her wetness, he thinks that is not the cause of her issued command
( ... )
Declawed, Jaime/Sansa, MlainemontgomeryMay 16 2013, 02:05:29 UTC
His right arm skims up the side of her leg, and she smiles at the sensation. It took so much time, so much effort, so much coaxing...but now, he leaves the golden hand on the bedside table, rubbing her with the pleasantly-alien smoothness of the stump.
(Can you feel it? she’d asked him once, as she softly dragged her teeth over the rounded end. No, he’d whispered, and his eyes turned stormy, and she straddled his lap and kissed him senseless- her own form of contrition.)
Sansa cups her palm over the stump now; the clean heal never ceases to fascinate her. There is little scarring to speak of, just a discolored band where the cut occurred, and new, pristine skin patching the area below.
Absurdly, she recalls a tale she’d once heard of the Summer Isles, where nobles remove the claws from their lapcats, leaving the paws soft and silky and entirely harmless. Barbaric? Perhaps. But as Jaime strokes his stump into the curve of her waist, as her eyes flutter shut and she succumbs to the gentle delicateness of it all, she
( ... )
Re: Declawed, Jaime/Sansa, MpinkimartiniMay 16 2013, 02:33:58 UTC
I agree, I love the idea of Jaime being declawed because that really is what happened to him. This was wonderful and I cannot thank Laine enough. I'm also loving that he would likely tell her about how great his right hand once was (I'm sure it totally was, too).
Re: Declawed, Jaime/Sansa, MlainemontgomeryMay 28 2013, 21:09:32 UTC
HAHA, Jaime would totally have a very high opinion of his right-handed skills with the ladiez. (Of course, it's my headcanon that Jaime is TERRIBLE at sex with anyone who isn't Cersei, which makes it sadder/funnier.) Thank you for reading!! :D
Ever After, Jaime/Sansa, M+pinkimartiniMay 16 2013, 03:54:51 UTC
“Turn around,” his voice is curt and breathless. He throws the covers off and away from her body, her milky white skin was now a golden shade from the sun. They have lived here in Lys for some time now. He wears his hair a little longer now so that it falls in his face, biting his lip a bit then leaning down to place a kiss on her back. Her skin is warm from the sun that falls on the large balcony. Her long auburn hair falls to one side, the scars from another life still anger him but that was in the past. Everything was put behind them when they came here. Jaime asked her if she wanted to take a new name but she firmly said that she had already done that. They are shielded only by the sheer covers that blow with the breeze from the vast sea before them now. Each day starts this way and when they are sated, they sleep until nightfall. He’s never hid who he is here and the people around them know that Lannister gold is neverending. Some had taken to calling her his wife and she had never corrected them. He wondered where his dear
( ... )
Re: Ever After, Jaime/Sansa, M+pinkimartiniMay 17 2013, 19:45:25 UTC
I just love Jaime/Sansa stories in Lys. I feel they would be super uninhibited. I'm firmly vested in this "different lands, different frame of mind." They both have been through so much - Sansa especially that being somewhere else would be therapeutic for her.
Barter, Cersei/Jaime, MlokiyanMay 16 2013, 04:21:09 UTC
He does it to get at her frayed nerves, she knows, and the thought of such defiance is enough to clamp her teeth into the crook of his neck. "Hurry
( ... )
Re: Barter, Cersei/Jaime, MlainemontgomeryMay 16 2013, 18:37:22 UTC
GAHHHHH this is perfect!!! Cersei's impatience and need for the "fight" is so fascinating...and Jaime goes with it, but HE JUST WANTS TO BE QUIET WITH HER FOR ONCE OH JAIME. ;-; LOVE it.
Re: Barter, Cersei/Jaime, Mjust_a_dramMay 17 2013, 19:31:38 UTC
I love the line about her body moving him more than words ever could. It really sums up one key aspect of Jaime's character. He's not a man of words. He's a man of action and appetites and obsession, all of which focuses very intently upon Cersei.
untitled, Cersei/Jaime, TtmitnaiaelMay 16 2013, 05:54:34 UTC
Cersei's leg was thrown--more possessively than carelessly--over his hip. He watched her face closely, making note of the slight frown of her brows and the parting of her lips, as he dragged his fingers from her hip to knee. The tickling motion disturbed her; she shifted, and the pleasant weight of her was gone.
He could hear the soft patter of servants in the hall. Jaime had woken later than was his custom. He meant to steal away silently, but he found himself pausing a moment.
He thought of pulling her closer and having her again, but Cersei would be cross to wake and see him still in her bed. (You know we cannot be caught, brother and his protest would be met with the bitter twist of her features that marriage had taught her.) Instead Jaime ran his hand along her thigh once more
( ... )
Comments 29
That’s for the best, perhaps, for when he’s had enough wine to dull the senses or she’s especially cross with him and gives him a stern look upon his entry into her chambers, he sometimes pretends quite well. Those nights always ends up in angry taunts on his end-angry with himself for not giving her what she wants and angry with her for not being exactly what is inscribed upon his bones to desire-and a door closed to him for weeks on hers.
Too rough. He’s too rough when he forgets not so much himself but her, forgets who she’s not ( ... )
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I love this. It's gorgeous. Scruffy Jaime is best imho.
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(Can you feel it? she’d asked him once, as she softly dragged her teeth over the rounded end. No, he’d whispered, and his eyes turned stormy, and she straddled his lap and kissed him senseless- her own form of contrition.)
Sansa cups her palm over the stump now; the clean heal never ceases to fascinate her. There is little scarring to speak of, just a discolored band where the cut occurred, and new, pristine skin patching the area below.
Absurdly, she recalls a tale she’d once heard of the Summer Isles, where nobles remove the claws from their lapcats, leaving the paws soft and silky and entirely harmless. Barbaric? Perhaps. But as Jaime strokes his stump into the curve of her waist, as her eyes flutter shut and she succumbs to the gentle delicateness of it all, she ( ... )
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He could hear the soft patter of servants in the hall. Jaime had woken later than was his custom. He meant to steal away silently, but he found himself pausing a moment.
He thought of pulling her closer and having her again, but Cersei would be cross to wake and see him still in her bed. (You know we cannot be caught, brother and his protest would be met with the bitter twist of her features that marriage had taught her.) Instead Jaime ran his hand along her thigh once more ( ... )
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