you need a big god | maekar targaryen x fem!reader
read on ao3 / song recs / fics masterlist
summary: Maekar returns to his wife in Summerhall after the Ashford Meadow tourney.
author notes: Doing right by the first post I made on this blog
content notes/warnings: explicit sexual content, maekar targaryen x you, maekar targaryen x reader, reader is not dyanna, second wife!reader, established relationship, baelor lives (same universe as tbfby), spitting (I think? I was a bit unsure of how to describe this exactly. you'll see), alcohol, thigh riding, licking, oral sex, slapping (male receiving), hair-grabbing, pinv sex, sex on the floor, dom!reader but also dom!maekar, no beta read, no use of Y/N
word count: 1.8k words
dividers by @saradika-graphics and @strangergraphics
It had just been a day since you got that raven from Maekar.
In his letter, he told you that, despite the best efforts of the maesters, they were not sure how long Baelor still had. His words were but mere ink; you still felt his sorrow through them.
You remain the only one I have informed, but rumours spread like wildfire. By the time the Stranger comes for my brother, the whole realm will already know me as kinslayer.
So you prepared for the worst.
You called for the handmaids and ordered the discreet preparation of mourning clothes for Maekar and the children when they got back. The letter had just arrived, but it must have been days since your husband wrote it: Baelor might already be dead. It was strange to live in that space of not knowing.
Not even a full day had passed when there was another raven; you had just gotten back from praying at the sept. You expected it would be the one carrying the news of the crown prince's passing. It must have happened soon after Maekar wrote his first letter to you, then.
You took a deep breath before you opened the parchment...
...and almost dropped it when you saw: Prince Baelor lived. They'd stay in Ashford for as long as the maesters thought it was necessary, then make for Summerhall.
'The Mother is merciful!' you exhaled, holding the parchment to your chest.
Many weeks later, Maekar returned with the procession from Ashford.
Once you made sure Baelor and his wife were comfortable in the guest wing, you and your husband returned to your chambers. Maekar collapsed into the armchair the moment you closed the doors, like the weight of the past few weeks had finally caved him in.
'I should've listened to you,' he muttered.
You squeezed his shoulder as you stood next to him, reaching for the the wine carafe. You poured out two cups and handed him one.
'You warned me of Daeron and what he might do. None of this would've happened if I hadn't had to go looking for him. What a fucking disarray,' he grumbled, more to himself.
'This family is doomed,' he said after a moment of consideration, as he downed his cup.
You leaned against the table, watching him.
'You speak of doom–yet your sons live, and your brother too.'
'I have to send Aerion away,' he said, and you could see in his eyes that it grieved him. Aerion had caused him so much pain, and still, there was an unwavering fatherly affection in his heart.
'It is for the better. You will see,' you tried to console him. And you believed it; that this might yet set Aerion on a true path.
'Aegon's gone off, and I do not know where,' Maekar continued.
'He must be with the hedge knight. And from what your brother's told me, it sounds like he's in good hands. You will find him soon enough; he'll be right till then.'
Maekar looked at you, astonished.
'I'm stunned by you both. How can you think it's right for him to roam the country in rags, sleeping in ditches?'
'You wouldn't have been able to stop him,' you reached out to graze his cheek with your hand: an endearing gesture that you hoped would anchor him.
'Don't you remember? You just said you should've listened to me. You will see I'm right again,' smiling, you stroked the scars under his eyes that had already begun to heal. They were not there when he left, so they must be from the trial.
'Whatever you say, woman.'
'You will see,' you repeated as you lifted the goblet to your lips.
He pulled you closer then, still sitting, so that his forehead was resting against your abdomen.
'I should've had you there, too. Bad things happen when you're not there,' he whispered, closing his eyes as you brought your hand to caress his hair.
'Do not dwell on it,' you said softly, brushing his silver strands.
How things could change with time. When you first arrived at his court, you knew it was expected of you to be like a mother to his children and a lady of the house. The prince was famous for his prickliness, and you weren't sure exactly what to expect. But you weren't one to stand in an open field when it thundered, and soon realised that was something the stern prince admired in you.
With time, you saw something other than respect glint in Maekar's eyes when he met with your defiance. Each time you shot down one of his laments or held his gaze during a disagreement, you saw it. A split second, and you could've missed it, but there it was: like a spark in the shadow of your fire, waiting to meet it.
That's how he was looking up at you now; in the privacy of your chambers, his cold front peeled back, and you could see how everything weighed on him. With his eyes, reverent on you, he was asking for an answer only you could give.
You slowly raised your cup to your mouth, taking a sip and savouring the rich tang, as you held his gaze. You watched as his eyes flicked to your lips, still wet from the wine.
A small, wicked smile tugged at your lips.
'You want a taste?'
He nodded slowly as you slid into his lap to kiss him.
As his mouth met yours, he snuck his tongue against your lips, licking the remains of the wine with a contented hum. The alcoholic flavour, mixed with the taste of him on your tongue, sent a warm jolt into your stomach.
He kissed you hungrily, and when you broke away from him, he chased your mouth with such eagerness that you had to push at him until his back met the armchair with a dull thud. One hand on his heaving chest, the other reaching for your goblet, you kept your eyes on him as you took a small sip from your cup–this time, holding the wine in your mouth instead of swallowing.
After placing the cup down carefully, you reached for his face and leaned over him, lips meeting his. You dribbled the wine into his waiting mouth and felt him harden under you as he took it. Some dripped onto your jaw and neck, and he was on it immediately, not wasting a single drop, licking your skin greedily.
'Did you miss me?' you asked breathlessly as you clung to his shoulders.
'What kind of question is that?' he grunted as he covered your throat with his mouth, 'I lay sleeplessly thinking of you. How you should be there with me...'
He grabbed your hair to bring your face to his. You smirked at the sensation of his fingers tangling with your strands at your nape. The pleasant feeling went straight into your groin; he spoke the next words against your lips, hot breath mixing with yours:
'How I should be fucking you instead...'
Taking your jaw between his thumb and index finger, he tilted your head so he could lick up a stray drop of wine running down your jaw.
'I'm never leaving your side again,' he grumbled against your skin.
'Whose idea was it, I wonder...to spare me from this miserable circus...' you panted, feeling yourself get wetter with each kiss he planted on you. You began to rub against his thigh, and the feeling of your briefs sliding against your slick centre made you lightheaded.
'Shut me up next time I get ideas like that,' Maekar said, and you felt his hands at the back of your dress, untying the knots with fast moves and stripping you.
You moved to help him out of his shirt and trousers, and pulled him with you to the floor. You felt a thrill as he hiked your chemise up and stared at the dark spot on your underwear.
He hooked his fingers and slid it off, throwing it to the side. Then, wasting no time, he buried his face between your legs and took a deep inhale of your pussy.
'Maekar...' you sighed, head thrown back, waiting for his tongue. He gave it to you, with his hands holding your thighs in place on his shoulders as he licked you.
He was unyielding. Even when you started to whine and shake, when the feeling started to become too much, and your hips unintentionally began to buck away from his mouth from the overstimulation, he held your legs tighter around him. Nowhere to withdraw, you just took it; until he made you come on his tongue, while you cried out his name, writhing on the bedroom floor.
Once your breathing settled a bit, you pushed yourself up and guided Maekar to lie down on the tiles. With your hand on his wide chest, you could feel his heartbeat against your own skin, and you thought of how you'd missed him. You were rarely apart this long, but when everything at the trial went awry, he had to stay away for many more weeks than initially planned. Thank the Gods, it was all over now.
You climbed on top of him, and then, before you could react, his hands tore your thin chemise in one swift move; the sharp sound of the fabric filled the room.
'Maekar!' you cried, but he was already fondling your now free breasts. The tattered silk hung on your shoulders.
'What? I'll get you new ones,' an inviting glint in his eyes.
Smug bastard.
You knew what he was trying to do. His eyes were on you, with an anticipatory look, questioning you. What will you do now?
You raised your hand, and the next moment, a stinging pain burned your palm as it connected with his cheek.
'Argh...' he groaned, as he snapped his face to the side from the impact.
He turned back to look at you, but you landed another slap as soon as his eyes met yours.
Chest heaving, he grabbed your hips and drove into you without hesitation. He got you so wet with his mouth, but you still had to adjust to his size as he began to fuck up into you.
Sweat covered your skin as the sound of your ass meeting his groin filled the room.
'Do it again,' he hissed between his teeth. It wasn't an ask, but a command.
So you did, delivering another smack across his cheeks as you rode him. Pain mixed with pleasure; his and yours. The skin on your hand was on fire now, but each time you landed another slap, his cock got harder inside you until he couldn't hold it back anymore and came, filling you to the brink.
You lay on the stone floor, tangled in each other for who knows how long. The fire in your bodies had long cooled against the cold touch of the marble, and you still refused to let go of each other.
The loss of my mom hits me like a ton of bricks sometimes. I truly never thought I'd lose her so soon and in that way. Alllll I think about is how badly I wish could of done something to help sooner. Maybe we would of gotten a little more time 😮💨
man sometimes friendship really is just "I saw this and knew it would give you psychic damage. please respond with agony" and then they do. and it's great
You are allowed to find things hot in theory while also never wanting to actually do them in real life btw. You can get off on whatever wild shit in your imagination and still prefer to be very vanilla in real life. Or not want to have sex at all in real life. You don't owe the universe anything in exchange for your dirty mind.
Choke. Just think about it, seriously. Think about what choking is and imagine speaking while it’s happening. That would fuckin’ hurt, man.
Hiss. Look, it’s just not possible, okay? No matter how “evil” you want your character to seem.
Snarl. Animals snarls. The Beast from Beauty and the Beast snarls. The Hulk snarls. You know who doesn’t snarl? PEOPLE WHEN THEY’RE SPEAKING.
Shriek. Come on, 99% of the time, “shriek” is not the word you want.Let’s face it: if you put an exclamation point at the end of the sentence, your reader gets the picture. Don’t bring to mind banshees and screaming toddlers.
Sneer. I’m not even going to bother explaining this one. “SNEER” ISN’T EVEN A SOUND.
Choked is not meant to be taken literally, an obstruction in the throat. It means they’re having difficultly speaking, they’re forcing the words out with difficulty. Often used when the character is convulsed in tears or laughter.
Hiss is a low, threatening whisper. Raw, guttural, vicious. It is NOT a literal hiss like an animal, it is a tone of voice that serves the same function. Someone will hiss that they’re going to cut your throat- a message from one person to the other.
Snarl is the same kind of thing. Not literal, it’s a tone of voice that serves the same function. It’s raw and gutteral like a hiss, but more savage than vicious. It’s loud, it’s showy, it’s intimidating. It’s very alpha male, big man, look at how fucking dangerous I am. I’ll take ALL of you on. Even if they’re snarling at one person in particular, nobody better back them up or they’re gonna get fucked up too.
Shriek. Come on, seriously? We’ve all heard people shriek either in fear or outrage. High pitched, loud, out of control, feminine. Men can shriek, but it’s funny and emasculating. Think angry italian women throwing pots and pans or ladies on tables who just saw a mouse.
Sneering is contempt whether it’s a facial expression or a tone of voice or both. There are a hundred different ways to sneer with your voice, but it all adds up to the same thing.
Went to an Oedipus Rex adaption today and my friends were debating whether the Oedipus/Jocasta age gap was problematic. Like guys…I think their relationship has bigger issues
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