A continuingly updating list of who I write for, please feel free to send in some requests if there are any celebs or characters you want to see me write for. I will be updating this list as much as I can :)
all i want for 2026 is that gigantic rancid AI bubble to finally burst in such a catastrophic way that the consequences will be so good and i'll never have to see another AI generated image ever again
unironically I think this might be my favourite dragon design in anything ever like this thing looks like it's a part of nature not someone's prize horse/nuclear weapon
Maekar is the softest, most gentle when his babies were newborns he just likes to smell them, rubs his cheeks on them and loves his wife, plays with her hair and gives soft touched. HOLD ME BACKKKKK everything is just so soft and gentle and loving. Literally when his quietly speaking to dunk in ep 6 that’s just him. He is still related to Baelor and Dearon, he gets his gentleness from them.
Soft
Pure mush!!!! So cute!
“Can I have my baby back?” You ask smiling at your husband and newborn son. The man ‘offering’ to look after him while you spent some time with the boys before bed.
“He’s my son.” Maekar says rubbing looking down at the cooing babe in his arms, the little boy holding his father’s finger in his little hand.
“He’s mine too.” You laugh, not minding that he’s stolen your baby from you. Happy he loves his children so much, him not always able to show it.
“You got to carry him for nine moons, let me hold him now.” Maekar say turning away from you as if you were going to steal the babe of him. You just wanting to kiss him.
“But-.”
“I’m sure the older boys would love some time with their mother.” He tells you, him having been working all day and unable to be with your sons.
“Would they now?” You ask raising an eyebrow at your husband. Daeron and Aerion both sleeping as it’s late. You having just read Daeron back to sleep. You giving your husband a look. “Stop sniffing him.”
“I’ve missed having a newborn.” Maekar muses swaying slightly with the boy, while kissing his forehead. “You’re already more well behaved than your brothers.”
“Maekar.” You say sternly giving him a look. “It’s time for bed.”
“Wife.” He teases a smirk apart in his face, him at his happiest with you and the children, a newborn babe in his arms.
“You get so mushy when we have a baby.” You say rolling your eyes while you get ready for bed. Letting him cuddle Aemon for a while longer, the babe needing to actually sleep in his crib for a change.
“I love you.” Maekar whispers to you later while you cuddle in bed, your head resting on his chest while he holds you close to him. All the children sleeping in their beds.
“I love you too.” You say kissing his chest softly. Tired but also wanting to spent time with just Maekar.
“Can we have more?” He asks quietly as if saying it any louder would scare the idea away.
“Isn’t three enough?” You ask, happy with any amount of children you have.
“Just a few more?” He whispers kissing the top of your head, already picturing a future with more children.
“We’ll see.”
“Thank you.” He says softly, loving you and the children more than anything in the world.
“What for?” You ask in genuine confusion, not knowing what you’ve done to warrant being thanked.
dark!valarr demanding dunk's wife for a night of pleasure, having the knight watch as he fucks his beloved as many times as the prince wishes.
dunk took his father from him, took everything from him. it is only fair that valarr gets retribution.
you're so sweet and beautiful. how did ser duncan get his hands on you, valarr ponders as he makes you bounce on his cock, ordering you to maintain eye contact with your dear husband while you milk the prince for all he's worth.
Summary: A young woman decides that she will no longer let overthinking control what she does. She makes a list of new things to try, one of these things is drinking alone. She did not know that she would meet a man who, by the end of the night, makes her cross of another item - one night stand. The only problem is that the connection they struck up is too good to only be one night. Yet they both believe that they will never see each other. But what they do not know is that their lives are already linked together.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, one-night stand, slight angst (?), drinking, oral (f!receiving), no descriptions of reader except that she has female anatomy, no use of y/n, praise kink, age gap relationship (reader! is in her mid-twenties, Baelor in his mid-forties), porn WITH plot (let me know if I need to add something)
Word count: 7.8k
Notes: So, this is my first story with smut in it. However, this story kept taking place in my head and it needed to come out. But apologies beforehand if the smut scene is completely unreadable. English is not my first language. I do not own any characters or pictures - SJ
I let my fingers rest on the stem of the wine glass, trying to keep myself grounded and convince myself that I could do this. I lift the glass to my lips and let the fine red wine slip down my throat - trying to ignore the fact that this glass cost more than all the lunches I ate that week combined.
This restaurant and bar was not the place for a single woman in her mid-twenties. I knew this when I had searched for a place to do this. I needed a place where my solitude could feel sophisticated and not come off as sad while being surrounded by people my age - and people in my tax bracket.
The list sat on my phone. It had come to be when my favorite colleague - and mentor - had retired. It made it clear how much in this life I had not done, simply because I let my overthinking and nerves control me. That time would pass and much of life would slip through my fingers if I did not make changes to my life. I had already crossed off a few things on it, tonight I would cross off another - Drinking alone at a bar.
It was a small thing, but it felt big as I sat there by the bar drinking my glass of wine. I did not rely on my more socially equipped friends, or some guy who would talk about himself for the whole time and then stare at the bartender's chest. I did not even sit there, single and alone, hoping to meet someone. I was simply enjoying a delicious red wine from 78’ while slowly swaying my feet to the music that played from the speakers.
The doors opened frequently with new people walking into the restaurant. However, it was hard not to see how he stood out. He was in his 40’s, dark features with grey hair and a prominent nose. His suit looked tailored to him and he had a watch that was able to catch every light that was available in the room. All of these things were not the reason why he stood out. In fact, they just showed that he belonged to the rest of the restaurant’s demographic. What made him stand out was how polite he had been to the hostess that showed him his table. How he did not walk with arrogance and showcasing the things he had bought with money that could easily erase my student debt. No, he walked with a sense of gratitude. That is the only way I can describe it. Like he was thankful for getting a table and for having a nice hostess to help him.
When he passes by me to get to his table I see him smile at the hostess and I am able to see two slight fangs on otherwise perfectly white teeth. A small quirk that made him stand out even more. Then there was the matter of his fragrance. It was no doubt a cologne with hints of firewood, musk and perhaps a little tobacco. Yet there was something else, something earthier and also a hint of a certain sweetness.
I could not help but to look over at him when he sat down at his table where there were two sets of tableware waiting for him. He sits down and when he does he looks up and his eyes catch mine. I turn back to look at my glass of red - hoping that the flush in my cheeks was covered in the dim light.
…
I let the last of the wine slide down my throat and set down the glass, about to pull out my wallet from my handbag when I see him approaching in the corner of my eye. I stop my movement ever so slightly.
He does not go up to me, however, instead he turns to the bartender, holding two glasses that had red wine in them.
“I am so sorry to bother you, but it seems that I will not be needing one of these so you can have it back.” He puts down the glass and when he does he seems to feel the weight of my eyes on him. He turns to look at me. It is then that I see that his eyes were mismatched. One brown and one eye that is blue. No, not blue. Violet. Violet like the sky in the last few minutes of the day. His eyes traveled from me down to my now empty glass that still carried the red residue that my wine had left behind.
“Pardon me, I know this is forward, but would you like one of these glasses?” He takes one of them and slowly slides it over to me on the counter.
“Yes.” My answer comes too quickly. I am aware of this. I do not know if it is the wine that already flooded my blood, the rush from crossing off my list of things to try or this incredibly gorgeous man that made me do it. But I said yes and he smiled. “What wine is it?”
The bartender answered that for me - it is the same one I had already had a glass of. This makes the man smile, showing once again the fangs that sat on the corners of it.
“Then I can sleep more soundly tonight that I did not let good wine go to waste” He takes the other glass and raises it in a cheer before taking a seat further down at the bar. Far away that if I wanted to, I could ignore him. Yet not far away enough that it was possible for me to.
I take a sip of the wine before turning to him. “Pardon me, it is my turn to be forward.” I offer him a small smile. “Why did you order two glasses instead of just one?”
“I had not intended to be here alone” he says while twirling the stem of his glass, his eyes are not on me when he continues. “It seems I have gotten ‘ghosted’ or ‘stood up’ or whatever it is that they call it nowadays.”
His words are soft, and when he looks up at me there is a tint of shame in his eyes. As if it was his fault for taking the chance at meeting someone.
“I am sorry” It is all I can think of to say. For a beat I consider trying to make the conversation lighter. If it had been anyone else sitting next to me, I believe I would have. But this man, this man whose name I had not yet learned, made me feel like the weight of the words could be there. That a conversation could exist without it being easy.
“I will survive it. I did not even know who she was.” He smiles at me and then looks at me, eyes slightly narrowing. “Might I ask what you were doing drinking alone? Business trip?”
His question drags out a laugh from me which makes his eyebrows shoot up. “I apologize, it is just that I am an english teacher. Not a lot of business trips”
“I suppose not”
“But to answer your question,” I take a breath, before admitting to the reason for why I had gotten dressed up – simply to drink alone. “I am on a mission to try new things. A sort of bucket list, I guess you could call it. And one of the items on that list is to drink alone at a bar.”
“Then I guess I should be apologizing,” he says and I take note of how he shifts closer to me. “It seems I have ruined your mission.”
I shake my head and let out a little laugh before taking another sip of wine. “ Do not apologize, I drank an entire glass all on my own. That counts in my book.”
He nods while swirling his glass in his hand.
“What else is on that list?”
…
It is the occurrence of things that one cannot quite explain afterward. I tell him my name, I know this. I know he gives me his name – Baelor. I do not know when we moved closer until our shoulders brushed. I do not know whose idea it was to have another glass of wine - I only know he insisted on paying for it. I only know that while we went over each item on my bucket list that the conversation flowed carelessly between us. I told him how ziplining had gone (surprisingly well). He told me of the time he had adjusted his will before going to an amusement park with his two sons. I told him about my job as an english teacher. He told me that although he loved his job - that he did not quite specify what it was - he loved his hobbies more. These hobbies included reading, puzzles and as of late - pottery.
The conversation did not steer away from the heavier topics when we arrived there. He told me briefly of losing his wife. I told him some of the parts of my childhood that made me think that I needed others to be enough. Obviously, we did not cover all the grounds on these topics. There would be far more wine needed for that to be achievable. However, we both were able to mention it. Discuss it in any way that felt comfortable while the other met it with kindness, and an appreciation of the trust that we had already given each other.
“Now now,” Baelor says while letting the last of his wine disappear down his throat. “What is next on the list?”
I smile and scroll down on my notes, but the smile falls while I read the item. “It’s…” I do not quite know how to say it. Instead I angle the phone so he can read the words. Have a one-night stand.
He nods, I can see him bite his lip for a fraction of a second before speaking. “You’ve never had one?”
“No.” I shake my head. “It seems that…intimacy is better when you have a connection with a person. And to me it seems strange that if you were to strike up a connection with someone, why not see them again?”
“I could not agree more” His voice is slightly lowered when he says the words to me. Then he clears his voice. “ I have not had one either. With me being married young and then becoming a widower. Not really the thing that you can bring up to a stranger.”
“Oh it isn’t?” I say and he catches my smirk and the corners of his lips curl up slightly.
“Usually not.” Then I see his eyes travel over me, his gaze becoming more intense. “But you do not feel like a stranger”
I do not know if it is him that leans in first or if it’s me. I only know that my wine stained lips meet his. That his beard slightly scratches my chin. That his hand goes up to my cheek - not rough or demanding but soft and appreciating. That his lips were smooth as they moved on mine. That I let out a small gasp when his tongue entered my mouth and that made him smile while still not breaking the kiss.
In my head I was silently thanking myself for making that silly list. For choosing this place instead of a dive bar. And I was, selfishly, thanking whatever stupid woman it had been that stood Baelor up. I was also thanking Kiera, she was the one who had told me to bring a condom tonight - because as she had put it “you never know what happens”.
…
He leads me through the hallways of his apartment building with his hand resting at my lower back - steady and guiding. He had not kissed me in the car. In fact after we had both agreed where the night was heading, he had not kissed me since. Which made me feel increasingly greedy and needy for each passing second.
It turns out I was not alone in this feeling. For as soon as we enter his apartment he presses me up against the door and crashes his lips on mine again. This kiss was different from the first one at the bar. That one had been curious and gentle. This one was hungry and thorough. Not rough nor soft - but taking time with each press on the lips. Making sure that nothing is missed due to lack of patience.
He lets his hand go to my waist at first. Then his hand travels upward to the swell of my breast through the blouse I wore. When he reaches it, he only lets it rest there at first. Giving me space to pull away. To move his hand. I even feel it in his kiss - how he is seeking permission. I give it. When he squeezes my breast I let out a moan - causing my lips to part. He uses this to let his tongue enter and dance with mine.
One of my hands is on the door to make sure I do not fall on my knees. The other is on the nape of his neck - pulling slightly on the grey hairs there. I let myself pull at it with a bit more force - making him groan and then pull back from the kiss.
“I need you to know, that if you wish to stop at any point” he swallows while breathing warm heavy breaths that I feel on my lips “You just need to say the word and I’ll stop. Okay?”
“Okay” I nod and let both of my hands go up to the sides of his face to pull his lips to mine again.
He kisses me back while letting his hands go the curve of my ass, then they go to the back of my thighs. He gives them a slight pat and I immediately catch on to the meaning of it - I jump up slightly and his hands grab my thighs and wrap them around his waist. He moves us through the apartment - never letting my lips leave his - leading us to the bedroom where a king size bed waits for us.
He lays me down gently while letting his lips go from mine to my cheek. Then my jawline and then his kisses travel all the way from my neck down along the neckline of my blouse. His long fingers go up to the hem of it, his eyes look up to meet mine - once again asking me. I nod and he pulls it off my body - leaving me in my lace bra. His eyes darken when he looks at me and I see him flexing his jaw.
“Gods, you are bewitching.” Then his mouth is on me again before I even have time to digest his words. He lets go of my lips and starts a path all the way down to my collarbones while his hand caresses one of my breasts through the bra.
I sit up slightly and then my hand reaches to the back and unclasps it, grabbing and throwing it into the dark room. At the sight of my naked breasts he did not say anything. Instead he just made a low sound from his throat before letting one of his hands go up to one of my already perked nipples.
When he touches it I arch into his touch. “Baelor –” His name falls easily from my lips. As if he is not a stranger to me.
Then his mouth goes to it and an embarrassing loud sound leaves my lips, which makes him groan against my nipple. My hand goes to his suit jacket trying to pull it off him.
“You are wearing far too many clothes” I mutter and he smiles down at me, before letting go of my nipple and sitting up. He discards his suit jacket and my hand goes to the buttons of his shirt. As the last button is done and his chest is now bare to me I feel how the heat between my legs grows stronger. Beneath his calm composure, beneath the shirt of the man who had talked about his sons and how he had spent three hours researching the right clay for his pottery - he was ripped. I let my hands go up to it. Covered in dark hair that covers the toned muscles underneath it.
“Is this what puzzles do to a man?” I say which makes a laugh rumble in his chest and I feel it against my palm.
“No. But the gym does.” He takes my hand from his chest and kisses the knuckles. “Now lay back down, darling. I am far from done with you.”
I do what he says with his hands guiding me down back on the mattress. His lips went to my breast who had not yet received the attention of him. He listens to me moan as he swirls his tongue on the sensitive bud. Then he lets it go with a pop and lets his lip trail down all the way to my jeans. He puts his hand on the button but goes still - waiting to see if I will object. Instead, I put my hand on his and help him unbutton them. I lift my hips and he pulls the jeans off. When he sees me in the sheer fabric of my panties, where I had undoubtedly left a spot where I was soaked, he let out a raspy sound before kissing my thighs.
“Please sweet girl, please let me taste you” he whispered against the skin of my thighs.
“Yes.” The word coming through a breath and bucking my hip toward his face. “Please, Baelor I- ”
Before I finish my pleas he puts his teeth on the waistband of my panties, his fangs that sit in the corner of his mouth catches them and pulls them off my legs in a swift move. Once they’re off he does not waste a second before his mouth is on me. Letting his tongue explore the wetness that had been there since the bar and had gotten more of a problem each minute since then.
He lets his tongue and lips work my folds and my clit, he uses every sound I make as a guide to where I most need him. Occasionally I feel him whisper, without letting his mouth move away from me, words like Delicious, Fucking perfect, My sweet sweet girl, spilling out of him as he takes me apart.
Then he pushes a finger in, stretching me while his mouth’s sole focus is now on my clit. I pull on the grey hairs on his head. While moans and praises fall from my lips - there was no use of holding them back. When he adds a second finger there is a tightening coil in my stomach, that only gets tighter and tighter as his fingers move fast and he sucks harder down on me.
“I-I-m close” My words come out between my moans. He does not answer me with words. Instead he keeps his pace and I come undone on his face and fingers.
While I try to catch my breath he kisses up my body until he reaches my neck where he buries his face. He leans over me and against my thigh I can feel him - hard and ready.
“I need you” I whisper into his hair. He pulls back his face from my neck - searches in my eyes for any hint of doubt, he finds none. He pulls back and works his belt and I help him with more eagerness than precision.
When his pants and boxers are gone I can see him fully, dark trimmed hair around his thick length with precum already leaking from the red tip. My breath hitches slightly at the sight. When I look up at him, he is already staring at me.
“Do you see what you do to me?” he asks while one of his hands goes to my hair, stroking it back from my face. Then he closes his eyes and lets out something between a laugh and a breath. “ Please tell me that you have condoms because it’s been so long I do not -”
“My purse.” I say, because seeing how ready he was for me made me not want to waste another second of him not being inside of me.
He rushes to get my purse and holds it out for me, I dig the small foil packet out of it and rip it open. Instead of giving it to him, I am the one who rolls it on - an action that makes the muscle in his abdomen tense.
When he enters me he does it slowly, while keeping his eyes on mine. He pushes in until he is buried inside of me. The tip presses exactly at the spot where I need him the most. The feeling of him becomes so overwhelming that I close my eyes shut. Which makes him place one of his hands on my jaw.
“No, no, sweet girl look at me” When my eyes open I see his darkened ones and he groans at the eye contact. “There we are, you’re doing so good. Taking me so well” He says, while starting to move inside of me.
One of my hands goes down to his lower back, pressing him in even deeper while also lifting my hips to meet his thrusts. The other hand has found its place on his chest hair, fingers pulling on the dark strands.
He takes hold of the hand that is placed on his chest and puts it instead next to my head on the mattress - lacing my fingers with his while letting his hips meet mine at a quickened pace.I look at him, eyes still staring at me and then I pull him down for a kiss, capturing his lips in mine and then he hits hard at just the right spot - causing me to bite his lower lip. He groans as soon as my teeth make contact with it. Making an idea form in my head.
I let my lips travel from his, down his jaw and neck all the way to the pulse point on his throat. I kiss it, then drag my tongue and then suck on it - all while feeling him twitch inside of me. Then I bite him. He lets out a whimper - honest and raw- followed by him pulling me back up to kiss me and slamming his hips with a force that caused the mattresses to sink so deep I could feel the bed frame underneath my back.
Everything he does, each movement, each look and each sound that escapes him along with the sound of our bodies meeting is all too much. I know that I won't be able to last long, and Baelor can feel it.
“Let go darling, I have you.” He whispers in my ear while one of his hands goes down to where our bodies are joined, rubbing it in the exact pattern he had taken note that my body enjoyed, making me reach my second peak. It is harder than the first and as I am clenching around him - he can no longer hold on. He buries himself to the hilt while dropping his face to my neck and groaning my name while spilling into the condom.
We lay like that, catching our breaths together. Me running a finger along his spine, and him giving small kisses to my neck. Then he lifts up his head and kisses me again, softer than the ones before, before pulling out slowly.
“Stay there, love” he says and goes away from the bed. I close my eyes and hear him moving his feet across the apartment.
“Here” I look up and in his hands are a damp cloth and a t-shirt. I take the t-shirt he is offering while he tenderly cleans me using the cloth. When he is done he throws the cloth in the laundry bin, while also walking to the drawer to pick out a new pair of underwear for himself. The t-shirt he picked out for me is soft when I put it on my body, it smells like laundry detergent but also of him. After putting it on, I look up and see him staring at me from across the room.
“You okay there?”Raising my eyebrows at him while letting my lips form into a smirk.
“Please stay the night.” The words escape him it seems because then he shakes his head and a blush creeps up on his cheeks. “I only mean - I know it is not - I know this is a one time thing but I - I want you to stay. I want to make you breakfast in the morning.” He looks at me like I am about to reject him. Say that this was just something to cross off my list and then leave in the middle of the night. He could not be more wrong.
“I’d love to stay” I whisper while reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Good. That is good” He squeezes my hand back.
That night I fell asleep in a stranger’s arms. But it does not feel that way. There is a pain in my chest when I think that this is all it is. Tomorrow we will say goodbye and all I have will be the memory of this night. But then, if this was all I was getting - I had to cherish every second I got with him.
…
When I wake I cannot help but notice how the other side of the bed is cold. I am still wearing his t-shirt that smells like him, but out from the hallway I can smell something else - bacon frying.
I let myself slowly walk out into the apartment. In the daylight I could now see more clearly that this was no ordinary apartment. This was an apartment that I had only seen on those trash reality real estate shows where they did drone shots of every property.
Baelor is stood wearing only a pair of dark grey sweatpants by the stove. On the kitchen table he has already placed plates, glasses and what seems to be a hotel breakfast buffet. There is a fruit platter, a stack of pancakes, some greek yoghurt, eggs and three loaves of bread.
“Good morning” I say while stopping a few metres away from him. He turns and looks at me, his eyes travel down to where his shirt stops at my thighs, then back up at me.
“Good morning. That looks better on you than me” Then he turns back to the bacon on the stove.
“You do know it is only you and me that are eating breakfast, right?”
He puts the last strip of bacon on the plate after patting some grease away from them. When he turns back to me his cheeks are flushed and his eyes refuse to meet mine.
“I didn’t know what you liked,” he shrugs. I walk closer to him. It felt more intimate to do it in the daylight. Like standing close was somehow bigger of a step than anything that transpired the night before.
When I am standing close to him I lean up and press a kiss to his cheek and then give his arm a squeeze. “Thank you, Baelor. This is one of the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, I think” He looks at me then, while letting one of his hands tuck a piece of my hair away from my face.
“Of course.” he whispers before taking a breath and stepping back. “Coffee? Tea? Or I have an espresso machine so maybe a cappuccino?Latte? " He goes back to the kitchen counter while opening cabinets.
“Regular coffee is fine Baelor” I smile while taking a seat at the table, looking at the spread he has put out. From the round fluffy pancakes to the freshly cut fruit. “How long did all of this take?”
“Not that long” he said while handing my cup of coffee and then sitting down in the seat across from me. “Besides, I do not mind it” Then he smiles at me, his eyes creasing and I swear I wished I could kiss every crease and wrinkle on his face.
When we both start to eat the beyond delicious breakfast he had prepared, my eyes go around his apartment. It was truly remarkable, designer furniture filling the space. Yet on the desk and the fridge there were photos, postcards and small stoneware things he had properly made himself.
“I’m sorry, we have to talk about it” I say and put down my coffee cup. He looks up with me, a piece of bacon in his mouth that he swallows and then he nods. “What is this apartment? I mean what - how - can this even be real?”
My question catches him off guard causing him to laugh while dabbing with a napkin at his mouth. He shifts in the seat, putting one leg over the other and putting his hands in his lap. “It is real. I assure you that.”
“Yeah but…what do you do for work? Are you like some fancy drug dealer? ”
His smile falters for a minute, his eyes going from me down to the table where he slightly adjusts his plate. “I am a CEO of a tech company.”
My eyebrows shoot up, usually that was something someone would mention rather early upon meeting someone. I want to comment on the fact that he had not told me about it. That he had sat all last night while I spoke of grading papers and about how AI had completely stumped the students' learning - all while he was the CEO of a tech company. But the way he had said it, as if it was a confession, showed me that there was something delicate in the matter for him. That perhaps it was not something that I could joke or tease about.
“How did you get into that?” Is the question that falls from my lips instead. “I mean was it the leadership or the tech part of it that got you there?”
“Well,” he says taking a sip of his coffee. “It was the family business part, along with it basically being written on my birth certificate that got me into it.”
“I see” I pick up a strawberry and take a bite of it. “Do you like it?”
“It is all I have ever known. But I do quite like it. Being able to make a difference of sorts. Being a good leader.” Then he claps his hand together and looks at me with that crooked teeth smile. “And what got you into teaching? You never told me”
“Not a family business” earning a laugh from him as I placed my hand on my coffee cup, focusing on my fingers against the ceramic instead of him. “There are two answers really, one that I usually give and then the real one” I let my eyes travel up to him where he is sitting. The morning light cascading on his face, highlighting his mismatching eyes as they gazed upon me - soft and waiting without any pressure. I clear my throat. “I usually tell people that it’s because I did some tutoring when I was younger and enjoyed seeing things fall into place for the student. It's true, but it is not why I chose teaching as a career. The real answer-” I hesitate. I never told anyone this because it felt embarrassing. Because often when they asked it was to mingle, and they simply wanted a short answer and then move on. Baelor did not seem like that is what he wanted, he seemed like he genuinely was curious for my answer.
“The real answer is that I heard another student tell a teacher that he should have chosen a different job with higher pay. That he should have become a doctor, a lawyer, a politician or any other high paying job. The teacher turned around, he was not upset or hurt by the words. He simply asked the boy who had said it ‘ And who was it that taught the doctor about biology? Who was it that taught the lawyer how laws were made? Who taught the politician about economy and geography? Was it not a teacher?’” As I recall the memory, the feeling of pride of my profession settled in my chest. I remembered it all clearly. On the days where the students did not listen. When it felt like most of my job was to tell things to people who did not care, all while getting paid too little - I had to think back to that moment.
I cleared my throat, while my eyes are on my fingers who are now tapping slightly against the coffee cup. “I think it made me realize that as a teacher I could truly make a difference in the world. I could be a part of something bigger …if that makes sense”
The words are followed by silence, then his hand comes from across the table. His fingers touching mine, I look up at him where he is sitting across from me.
“It makes sense,” he says in his low and smooth voice.
I let my fingers caress his. Wanting to stay in this moment. Wanting to talk more. Wanting to eat the breakfast he had prepared for me. Then my stupid phone rings from the bedroom.
The two of us look up, knowing I should go answer it, knowing we should let go. Still, I wait a few seconds before finally removing my fingers from his and running to answer it, closing the bedroom door behind me.
It’s Kiera. She does not sound like her usually happy and bubbly self - that is when I realize.
“Shit I was supposed to have brunch with you” I say as I realize that before I went out and took my glass of wine, me and Kiera had made brunch reservations.
“Yeah, you were. Where the fuck are you? I’m outside your door and my knocking seems to not do anything?”
“Oh. That might be because I did not sleep at home last night. And I am still not home.”
I have to remove the phone from my ear when she lets out a high pitched scream. I sighed while already picturing my neighbour Margaret giving me a lecture about respect and neighbourly consideration.
“Are you kidding me? Did my brave sweet girl have a cheeky little one night stand?” My cheeks go red at her words, but I cannot help but smile despite it.
“Fuck off.”
“Well, my dearest, you are forgiven. Go get some morning dick and call me later with the deets okay?”
After we hang up, I take a moment to breathe before going back out to Baelor. When I come back out he is still sitting at the table. However, now he has his phone in his hands and a pair of glasses on the tip of his nose as he is reading something on the screen. When he hears me coming, he moves the glasses to his head and puts down the phone.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, just my friend.” Then I look at his phone. “And you?”
“Yes. Or no…it is my youngest. He is -” He lets a hand drag through his beard. “He is a first year at uni and he apparently had a bit too much to drink last night. Had a fight with his friend.” He shakes his head and then looks down at his laps, where his fingers twirled with the rings he wore even this early in the morning.
“Is he alright?” Something about my question makes him snap his head up to me, then the edges of his mouth curls up just a little bit.
“Yes. Just a bit…shaken up.”
I know what I have to say after that. I know what conclusion we have both already reached now that breakfast was finished and our real lives started seeping into our morning. I know what was going to happen - but that did not mean I liked it.
“You should call him” I say and let my eyes fall to the floor when I continue. “And I should probably head out.”
“Yes,” his voice was low and deep when he said it. “I-” He starts but he does not finish. Instead he starts clearing the table and I head to the bedroom to change and gather my things.
When I stand in his door, there is a silence between us that carries a weight I wish would disappear. Last night and even this morning neither of us felt the need to fill the quiet. We could be silent and comfortable. This was not that. There was nothing comfortable about the silence that took place in the distance between us.
“Thank you” I say and give him a smile - although it feels wrong on my lips. “For last night and breakfast. I had a really nice time.”
“Me too” He says, and I see how his throat bobs while he is standing in front of me. “I’ll call -” He stops himself and we both let out shallow laughs. “I guess I won’t”
“Yeah,” I say, hoping my voice did not showcase how illogical the pit in my stomach felt at his words. “It was nice meeting you. I hope your son is gonna be okay.”
“Thank you.”
My hand goes to the door handle and I turn it but then his hand is on mine. We both look at each other and then his lips are on mine again. He tastes of coffee and strawberries - sweet and bitter. Everything we cannot say. As our lips press together, I let myself get caught in the intoxication that is him.
When we pull apart, he leans his forehead against mine. “Goodbye, sweet girl” he whispers.
“Goodbye”
That night when I sat at home alone in my apartment I pulled up my notes app and crossed off the two items on the bucket list. When I crossed off Have a one night stand I hated myself for getting teary eyed while doing it. I hated myself even more when I talked to Kiera about it. I told her everything, except his name and his work and the fact that he had sons - some things I wanted to keep to myself. When I had told her everything she simply gasped and then she uttered a sentence that broke me.
“You had the best night and sex of your life and now you’ll never see him again - how crazy is that?”
And I responded with some empty white lie, while feeling completely wrecked and devastated - and Gods how I hated myself for being so pathetic.
…
2 months later
I did try to go on dates after that night. But each date always ended up with me back in my apartment, calling Kiera and giving both her and Valarr a debrief on one of the worst moments of my life. If one sought after a humiliation ritual, one only needed to be in the modern dating market.
Due to my date life being a train wreck it led to me always ending up alone in bed. Some nights, far too often then I would like to admit, there would be a heat between my legs. Those nights were spent with my fingers working myself while thinking back to that night with Baelor - remembering each sound and sight I had experienced.
Kiera thought I was hopeless, which I was truth be told. Her idea to cure my hopelessness had been a night out with me, her and her boyfriend Valarr. The premise of the night had been that they would be my wingmen, and that I would totally not be a third wheel. I was stupid enough to believe that premise.
It is well past midnight when I realize that the love birds are far too drunk to continue this nightout. Besides, I had grown tired of sitting next to them while they made out sloppily on the seat next to me.
We stand outside the club, them swaying together and me with my arms crossed to keep the cold from completely killing me. Valarr had called his dad who had promised him that he could give us all a ride home.
“Are you sure he is on his way, Valarr?” I say while looking out on the street - besides having no clue what Mr. Targaryens car looked like.
“I’m sure. My dad is just a very law-following driver. He is coming.” He says this before peppering kissed down Kiera’s neck.
“And then we will drop you off first” Kiera says while giggling at her boyfriends affection.
A few minutes later the car pulls up and I look up at the sky to do a silent prayer in my head. However, it seems that whatever listened has a weird sense of humour.
He stands there, frozen, while Valarr stands next to us - introducing us. Luckily, both him and Kiera get into the car and do not notice how the two of us are staring.
“Hi” I let out while still trying to puzzle the pieces together.
“Hi” Baelors voice is rougher than I remembered it ever being that night. “I-”
“Dad! Come on! Kiera is not doing well” Baelor is about to protest when Valarr interrupts him. “Unless you want your leather seats to be covered in throw up”
At that we are both moving toward the car - he jumps into the driver’s seat and I jump into the passenger seat.
“Where to?” Baelor says while pulling out into the street. I am about to give him my address when Valarr tells him to drop them off first at his place. When I turn to throw him a look he shrugs at me.
“Kiera is not doing well.” His hand dragging a hand over her head while she slept against his shoulder. “Besides, I think the two of you would get along. You’re both some of the smartest people I know. A car ride together won't be that bad.”
After that the conversation dies, the only sound coming from the radio. Valarr has no idea of the tension in the front - completely occupied by his drunken girlfriend. I let my feet tap along to the music that is playing, and in the corner of my eye I see Baelor tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“It’s a good song” I say, quiet so that only he can hear.
“Yes. A very good song.” He says and keeps his eyes on the road
Then the conversation dies again as we pass a few streets. Then suddenly Kiera makes a sound that is somewhere between a screech and yawn, causing Baekor to swear under his breath. She puts either hand on both of the front seats.
“Are you two getting along?” she asked in her sugar sweet tone. Then she decided to completely destroy me. “Just be careful, Mr Targaryen, my best friend here recently had a one night stand with a man your age.” After sticking a dagger in me without knowing it, she settles back into Valarrs shoulder.
“No shit, really?” Valarr asks.
“Yep,” Kieara answers, and then she decides to twist the dagger. “Was apparently the best sex she ever had.”
In that moment I wish that we would crash or that the leather seats would just swallow me whole. Instead my cheeks flush red and in the corner of my eye I see Baelor smiling - but staying silent.
For the rest of the car ride to Valarr’s place, I looked out the window and tried very much not to think about what had been said. Although it was impossible because every now and then Valarr would bring it up and would even want details. Thankfully, Baelor always stopped him. “Do not make your friend uncomfortable” he would say. It was nice that he shut it down. Reasonably, that is all I should feel about it. That it was nice. I should not feel a pang of sadness that he referred to me as his son’s friend. I should not feel that. Yet I did.
When we drop off the drunk love birds, it is only me and Baelor left in the car. He does not pull out into the street at once. Instead he drums against the steering wheel.
“So,”
“Shut up.” I say, which brings out a laugh from him. “I am going to kill Kiera.” Then I look at him where he sits, a street lamp shining through the dark night making his eyes look darker. “ I did not know that you were –” I trail off.
“Valarrs father?” He finishes for me and I nod. “ I did not know Kiera was your best friend.” He adds, then he clears his throat. “ Type your address into the GPS. It’s getting late.”
I type it into the car’s built-in GPS-system. When he pulls out into the street, I wonder if this is it. If we simply endure this car ride and then nothing more will come of it. Then he speaks again.
“How is the list going?” He asks while still keeping his eyes on the road. “Cross off any other items?” In his question I hear genuine wonder.
“Yeah, you are looking at someone who went to her very first salsa class”
“Salsa? And how did that go?”
“Terrible. But I did it.”
The conversation quickly falls into the same flow we had on that night. Him discussing how he had almost lost his mind doing a jigsaw puzzle - and then it turned out the manufacturer had not included one of the pieces. I tell him about having started writing again - small scribbles, but a start. It was easy. Not like with the guys I had gone on dates with. I did not need to think about each word I said. I did not need to analyze every word he said. We could just be.
When we arrive outside my apartment, the only voice comes from the GPS - a digital tone letting us know we have arrived.
“So this is me” I say it but I do not move out from my seat.
“Yes. It is” He says, his hands dropping from the steering wheel. One landing close to me, not so close that we touch but close enough that I can reach him if I want to.
“You know,” my voice comes out smaller than I intended while I let my pinky touch his hand. Then I put down my hand with the palm up - an invitation for him. “You could always come up for tea.”
He places his hand in my palm, squeezes it. His mismatched eyes meet mine while his voice comes out smooth and deep.
Summary: Your marriage to your much older husband has faired far better than you ever thought it would. Though, sometimes you wish there was less...cleaning involved
Pairings: Hyperspermia!Baelor Targaryen x Reader
Warnings/Tags: Unspecified age gap (big and girthy), smut (light spit kink)
Word Count: 2.1K
Notes: blame eve and the brainworms for this
Prince Baelor was hesitant to remarry. In fact, he was perfectly content to be on his own after his wife's passing. He already had an heir, there was no rush. But then your father had offered your hand and when he'd laid eyes on you he couldn't refuse.
Your inital fears had vanished soon after your wedding. He was older, yes, but he was kind. Stories of cruel kings becoming crueler husbands were common to to noble born girls. Hushed lessons taught by worried mothers in an attempt to save their daughters from a shared fate.
Your wedding day was full of nerves, stomach turning as your maid from childhood dressed you for the last time. You were conscious of each footstep down the aisle, desperately trying to make your way to the alter without fumbling on your dress or your own two feet. Everything had occurred exactly how you imagined it.
Your wedding night? That was completely different that you had been told. Your mother had sat you down the night before and told you everything to expect. She also reiterated that it would hurt, but it was important to smile while you performed your wifely duties. You were not to make too much noise, not to move unless he instructed and to be patient until it was over. Your heart hammered in your chest as Baelor undressed you,
But after your down had slipped to the floor, he'd kissed your shoulder and lain you on the bed. Your whole body stiffened as he spread your legs. But instead of the head of his….member stretching you open his fingers gently pressed into the sensitive skin of your thighs, holding you open as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive bud between your legs. You could feel his smirk against your skin as his tongue ravished your body.
When he did finally push into your entrance, you were pleasantly surprised that it actually felt good instead of the searing pain your mother described. You body was pleasantly loose from Baelor's earlier actions, which helped your body accomodate him.
And after you'd gotten a taste of this new activity, it was hard for Baelor to deny you. There was just one problem-
"Lady Dyanna," your sister in law turns to you as you call out for her. The two of you are enjoying your tea on the balcony overlooking Kings Landing, "Because of my union to Baelor we are now sisters, correct."
"Yes, princess."
"May I ask you a question then? One that may be considered too…vulgar for me to ask another," your face warms.
An amused smile unfolds on her face, "Of course, princess. Though it was a while was many moons ago, I remeber what it was like to be newly married to the son of a king. What plagues your mind?"
"When you are finshed with your relations," you look at the foor unable to meet her eye, "How are you meant to deal with the mess afterwards."
Dyanna chuckles, "A simple cloth will suffice. You may ask your maids to warm the water as well. It well help soothe the ache that sometimes occurs. Though you want to be careful not to wipe away too much or you may be preventing the future heir from settling in your womb."
"This I know," you pause, unsure of how to say your true intention, "I mean moreso - when you are walking around afterwards. How do you manage the…leaking."
The older woman tilts her head, confused, "Well I remain in bed for the rest of the night so that is not as much of an issue."
"You've never had morning relations?"
"Not never," she says, a bit nostalgic as she thinks back to her youth, "Though I can't say I recall not being able to solve that issue with a cloth before I left my chambers."
"W-well I do," you sputter, "But sometimes it's quite a lot and it's uncomfortable when I walk. Especially if we've also had relations the evening before as well-"
"Relations in the evening and the morning? I didn't realize Baelor was quite so ravenous."
"It's not always him who initiates," you murmur, stirring your spoon in your tea, "In fact it's usually not him who initiates."
Dyanna laughs, "Oh, how I miss my youth. Though, I do not blame you. They are a handsome set of brothers are they not?"
Baelor has been busy this past week. He doesn't call you into your chambers until early the next morning. He's sitting at the desk in his room when you arrive. He smiles at you when the squeak of the door on its hinges announces your prescence.
"My prince," you say in greeting.
"My love, I am sorry to wake you so early. I missed your presence while I was away," he beckons you over with one hand as he stands, silver rings glinting in the light, "Did you sleep well?"
Your body follows easily, drawn to him. You shake your head as you fall into his embrace, "My chambers are far too cold without the blood of a dragon near."
"My apologies, my princess," he chuckles tipping your head up, and gently pressing his lips to yours, "The hunt lasted longer than inteded, but I am rested now."
His hands grip your waist firmly to pull you closer before reaching back to peel you out of your night clothes. You hesitate, stepping back.
"My lord, perhaps we should wait until this evening for those activities."
"What's wrong, my love?" he frowns, emphasizing the lines between his brows that you adore.
"Nothing," you shake your head, "I may have embarassed myself during my meeting with Dyanna and I need time to heal my pride, my lord."
"What happened?"
Your face warms, "I'm not sure I should discuss these matters with you."
"I am your husband, and the prince of the realms, you can discuss anything with me, my love," he tucks a stray curl behind your ear.
You sigh, "I had a question for her about…relations and now I fear she may believe me to be too enamoured with it."
Baelor chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling you along with him.
"You are aware that Dyanna and Maekar have six children. There is nothing we are doing that they haven't done already."
"I know that," you say with a groan, buried your face in your husbands neck, "You should have seen the way she looked at me when I told her of my problem.
Your husband tilts his head, "Problem? You did not speak to me of any problems. Pray tell, I have not been hurting you have I?"
"No, no," you shake your head, reassuring him, "I have no complaints of our relations itself, husband. It's afterwards that I am sometimes I encounter a nuisance is all."
"I see," he nods, "Care to elaborate on this nuisance?"
You avert your gaze to the wall behind him, "It doesn't concern you, husband."
He smiles, "If it concerns my queen, then it concerns me."
"After we finish," you sigh, "Sometimes when I walk about the castle, I can feel you dripping down my leg. I simply asked Dyanna what she does, but it seems as though she does not have this same issue."
Your husband nods. He's had his suspicions about his condition. He may be king but he has taken part in his share of celebrations after a particularly well won tournament.More than a few of his past acquiantences have brought this very same topic to his attention before.
"My love, I believe I have a solution to your nuisance."
He stands to undo his robes. You lean back on your elbows watching his clothes fall to the floor. You bite your lip in anticipation, pulling his body on top of yours.
Your legs fall open for your husnband, your mouths moving languidly against each other as he his fingers reach the coarse hairs at the apex of your thighs. You sigh when his long fingers skim across your folds, diping into your entrance to spread your slick. He teases your sensitive bud with a light touch.
"Baelor," you whine which makes your husband smile as he kisses your neck, "Do not make me wait."
"I thought you were prepared to wait until nightfall, my love," the heel of his hand stays pushed up against that spot that drives you mad while his fingers slip inside you.
"Changed my mind," you pant, pulling him closer you you, "You would keep your wife waiting, my lord?"
"Never, my love."
Your back arches off the bed as Baelor pushes into you. He grips your leg, hooking it over his shoulder as your hips meet. His nose nuzzles along your jaw making his beard hairs tickle your neck.
"How's that feel, my love?" he murmurs planting a kiss on your collar bone.
"G-gods, Baelor," you groan, "So good."
He moves slowly, watching the way your face contorts in pleasure as he drags his cock inside you. His hand slips between your bodies to slow circles that drive make you moan.
He knows your body well, works it like like an instrument tuntil you're clawing at his back and shouting his name. He manages to stave of his own release but only for a few moments, just enough to drive into you once more filling you to the brim.
Though he tried his best, some of spend starts to leak out of you once more.
"Shh, my love," he coos, as he stands, trying to doge your attempt to keep him close, "I'm not going anywhere."
He sinks to the floor, grateful for the rug cushioning his aging knees. He wraps his arms around your legs, tugging you towards him.
"Baelor!" you gasp out, "What are you-"
"Why do you act as though I have not done this before," he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your mound, "This is my favourite place to be while unwind at the end of the day."
"But you've already...finished."
"I am quite aware, darling, worry not about me."
He spreads your legs apart, groaning at the sight of his seed leaking out of you.
"Wish you could see how we look together, my princess," he teases, leaning forward kiss your inner thigh, "Perhaps we should move the mirror to the bedroom."
He doesn't wait for your response, too entranced by the sight of you. He licks broadly, moaning at the taste your joined mess. You squirm in his arms, still sensitive from your release. He chuckles, digging his fingers into your thighs, holding you in place.
"We're divine together my love," he groans, licking at your entrance, "Want a taste?"
He meets your eye, grinning when you nod hesitantly at his words. He uses his tongue to scrape at your walls, collecting your shared juices with an obscene slurp and gently holding your ankle in the air to keep you from kicking his head.
He crawls up the bed to where you await with wide eyes, anticipating his neck move. He holds your head in place and forces your jaw open his thumb.
You don't even flinch when he spits into your mouth. You close your eyes, licking your lips with a moan when you swallow.
You're summoned into the Princes chamber later that night once more. Baelor is already in his bedclothes atop of the covers. You rush over, settling yourself on his lap.
"How was your day, my prince," you greet with a smile, running your fingers through his hair.
He preens, "Much better now that you're here, my love. How was yours?"
"Much better now that you're here," you laugh, repeating his words.
"And tell me, how was my solution to your nuisance today?" he chuckles. His hands start to lift your night dress, exposing more of your tanned skin.
"It worked," you smile, toying with the hem of his shirt, "Though I must admit I missed the reminder of you."
"Oh?" he quirks a brow, "How so?"
"I felt…" you pause, tilting your head trying to think of the right word, "empty today."
"Empty,?" Baelor repeats. You giggle, feeling the start of his interest poke you in the thigh.
You nod, "I missed the feel of my prince leaking down my leg during the day. Though I did enjoy what we did this morning-oh!"
Your yelp turns into a moan when Baelor flips you over and your back hits the mattress.
"Careful now," his voice is husky in your ear, "keep speaking like that and I'll have no choice but to put another heir in you, princess."
