SUMMARY -> maekar loves his wife with all his heart, but sometimes your vulgarity and insatiable needs makes him want to strangle you. especially when you tease him out in the open, and in wrong times.
maekar targaryen x wife!reader
GENRE -> nsfw/smut
WARNINGS -> not proof-read, teasing, unprotected p in v, rough sex, nudity, slight choking, doggystyle, & maekar the brat tamer
WC -> 2.9k
a/n: it’s filthy, what can i say? 😜
maekar has always known himself as a gentleman.
despite his known tendency to be harsh and moody, he is a man with values underneath his steel-like personality. he’s a respectful man, he is sure of that. and he respects women more than men, he has been taught to appreciate women by his mother. that he must not forget that respect is the most important thing he must have when he’ll choose a wife, and he must strengthen that respect for his lady-wife. and to have patience above all, since marriage has always been no easy task at first. but will eventually become easier when the said values are met.
yet you, his lovely wife, seemed to crumble those gentleman values he has from time to time.
you’re sitting innocently between the noble ladies here in some lord’s castle that you two were invited to. while you look so pleased to be here, he’s itching to get the hell out of here- having been bored to death as the lords around him talk and talk his ear off. he’s somehow managed to avoid them when he entered the gardens, and found you there. he didn’t mean to pry in womanly talks, not until your eyes caught his.
“how did you manage it, your grace? birthing six is no easy feat! i barely survived my first birth. the gods must favor you for carrying targaryen heirs.” the noble lady gushes, and you let out a small laugh at that. maekar tensed up when he heard it though.
“i did not plan to have six, really.” you answered truthfully. “the gods indeed blessed me for having them so easily.”
“you must have been so tired carrying them all.” another lady expressed, and you merely smiled.
“the tiredness was worth it when they all came out healthy and strong.” you tell them. “they clearly take after their father’s strength.”
the tips of his ear turn red when he meets your eyes again. the ladies around you giggled as they followed your gaze to him. he’s awkwardly standing still, aware of the numerous eyes upon him. he looks away, not wanting to see their faces and judging eyes.
“i see why you have six children, your grace.” one lady teased, and you huff out a laugh at her boldness.
“you’ve caught me.” you went along with it. maekar pretends to not hear that. “i blame him for putting me through six births.”
“it is no wonder, your grace. your beauty is beyond. he surely cannot take his hands off you, you must not blame his grace.” another one joins in the teasing, and you were grinning ear to ear as you look at him. he glanced at you again, only to be met with your piercing gaze that’s laced with a hint of hunger behind them. a gush of blood rushes to his cheeks and cock. his jaw tightened, passing a look at you to stop it.
“oh, i don’t know about that.” you tell the noble ladies, still staring at him intently. “i was always told by him that i was the one who couldn't keep my hands to myself.”
your lashes fluttered innocently as you wave at him with a smile. a smile that is borderlined to that seductive smirk you have. maekar’s cheeks flushed red when he heard you announce that in the open.
“i wouldn’t be opposed to having a seventh, as you see.” you smirked, and all the ladies giggled loudly as he hurriedly went back in, feeling embarrassed yet slightly aroused by your doing. he feels humiliated with the way you entertained those… vulgar comments about you and him. he’s irritated that you seem to enjoy it as well. it wasn’t a fleeting thing that you’re like this- insatiable and irritating. you’ve had a lot of instances that made his eyes bulge out by the sheer boldness of expressing your desire for him.
then again, he should be glad like any other men that they have a woman fawning over him. let alone- desire him for such a long time. but for him, it was becoming a big problem. a big problem that you were putting him on the spot every chance you can take whenever and wherever.
like at this moment, you’re sitting beside him by the stands. hand clasped above his, watching the joust being prepared to start. he can see your restlessness and impatience when you let out tiny sighs, and he as well is starting to feel irritated. because why the hell were the two of you invited again?
“can this fucking thing start already?” maekar grumbles. “i do not know why my brother asked us to attend some fucking lord’s joust. does he think of me so lowly that i am to attend in his steed because he does not want to? he knows i don’t do well in noble’s pleasantries.”
you rub his hand tenderly, always comforting him when he’s like this. “i think you’re doing just as well, my love. you managed to not snark at them, and they seem smitten with your presence.”
“smitten?” he raises a brow at your choice of words. he ignores the word ‘snark.’
“they admire you.” you explain, and he rolls his eyes.
“of course they do.” he sarcastically says. “they see me as a means to up their arses in my brother’s favor. fucking imbeciles.”
“don’t cut yourself so short.” you huffed at his own words. maekar makes a face as you press yourself against him, the seat being wide enough that it fits the two of you. “i think you’re forgetting what they call you, and you’re quite the talk of all men and women alike across the country.”
“and what do they call me, my wife?” he asks, and you smile at him as you tenderly caress his arm.
“the anvil.” you giggle, and he lets out an exasperated sigh at that. “don’t pretend you don’t feel pride in it! it suits you so.”
“shush, woman.” he grumbles, and you pout as your hand darts up to rest on his chest. you grin when he doesn’t swat your hand away as you lean closer, and he can feel your body heat warm him. your breasts are pressed up against him, and he swears he can feel your nipples poke underneath the silk.
“i really like it when they sing about you… can’t you see that? they admire you for you.” you whisper in a tone dripping with honey. “what did they say again? the country was in peril, the anvil was a rock-“ you sing teasingly.
“we are in a field full of people, choose your next words carefully.” he warns as you continue to rile him up with your innocent touches. you blink innocently as you chuckle. he’s acutely aware there’s people sitting right behind and beside the two of you.
“can’t i gloat about my husband’s achievements? they sing about you being strong and impressively hard.” he catches the innuendo, making him let out a tiny hitched breath at your boldness. he hopes no one heard you say that. “i can say they are accurate in their song, seeing i’m the one who gets to witness your hardness every night.”
seven’s sake grant him some mercy, he loves you so much, but sometimes he wants to strangle you.
your fingers tease the clasps of his tunic. maekar’s hands clenched as your hand dropped down to his thigh, too close to his crotch for his liking. he cast a stern look at you yet you didn't falter as you caressed his thigh very slowly. the tips of his ears turn red again as he ignores the tightness in his pants. he grips your fingers, stopping your touch from killing him out in the public. he leans down, his nose almost touching yours. you momentarily stagger at his sudden movement.
“behave yourself.” he grits his teeth, voice low and gruff. your pupils dilate at that, and he shakes his head at your audacity. you wait for his next move, expecting a kiss, but he doesn’t do anything other than turn away from your gaze to finally watch the joust start.
“you are no fun.” you huff, rolling your eyes. maekar’s lips twitch at that as he ignores your huffing.
・゜゜・
maekar knows himself as a man who can control himself. but you, on the other hand, he does not know where your insatiable needs come from. he’s given you six children because of that. because of your constant pleas for him and his poor cock. he can feel you reach for him as he arises from the bed, naked and cold. he groans loudly when he stretches himself, and feels your cold hands caress his back as you whine at him.
“don’t go yet.” you plead with a pout, he turns around to give you a kiss, shutting you up. you moan between his kisses as your hands reach up to wrap around his broad shoulders. he’s about to pull away, satisfied with last night and the morning after bliss with your kiss. but you seem to have other plans when the sly hand of yours reaches down to grasp him. it makes him flinch when your cold hand touches his flaccid groin.
“seven fucking hells, woman. are you trying to kill me?” he means it literally. you let out a laugh as he stops your ministrations, firmly giving you a look like you’re a child. like the ones he gives when daeron or aerion misbehaved.
“not yet, please. i still need you- the children need you.” you joked between your giggles. he rolls his eyes as he swats your bare ass making you gasp, standing up to dress himself before some poor servant comes in, and witnesses the both of you in this state.
“maekar, the morning is still young. come back to me.” you pout again. he ignores that despite him wanting to give in.
“no. i’m protecting my poor cock from your insatiable needs.” maekar grumbles. “sooner or later it will fall off because of my own wife’s doing.”
“that poor cock had no problems and complains when i rode it last night.” you say with an eye roll, and he washes his face with the cold water in his basin. trying not to get hard remembering how you indeed rode him that night. he indeed did not complain, but he’s complaining now.
“ride a horse instead since you’re so eager to ride, my heart.” he says to you in finality as he ties his robe around him. you glare at him when he saunters away, feeling a little smug about your neediness as he leaves you wanting. he doesn’t expect what your revenge might be for later though.
・゜゜・
“god’s sakes, my sunshine. did you gobble up a whole jar of jam?” maekar watches you fondly pinch the chubby cheeks of your youngest daughter, his little rhae, whose face is all smudged up with strawberry jam. rhae huffs at your tease, and he sees that his daughter indeed inherited your mannerisms. aemon, aerion, and daeron are quietly eating beside him, while their cousins, valarr and matarys are eating at the other side of the table with baelor by the far end. it’s rare for shared breakfasts like this, but somehow today was made possible.
“papa, mama! aegon won’t share the last toast with me!” daella whines, and aegon blows a raspberry at her as he munches on his toast. maekar sighs as he orders the servants near him to fetch some more while you let rhae’s nanny take care of her as you finally take a seat next to him with a wobble. he pulls your chair to let you sit down more comfortably. he resist to smirk seeing you so wobbly.
“are you feeling well, sister?” baelor seems to notice your unusual walk first.
“i’m doing well, thank you for asking.” you humor him as you adjust your seating. maekar continues eating his eggs until- “but i was so sore from riding yesterday.”
seven. fucking. hells.
“oh? i did not know you like to ride, my goodsister.” baelor says genuinely. maekar looks back at you, and your eyes sparkled dangerously as you took a bite of a sausage. if looks could kill, maekar’s eyes were burning. do not continue. he commands you silently. you ignore him as you continue to talk to baelor.
“oh, i very much love to ride.” you say with a chester grin. “maekar can attest to that. don’t i ride exceptionally well, my love?”
he almost spits the wine out of his mouth. he coughs loudly, the liquid almost choked him as he wiped his mouth. everyone turned their eyes at him, and his face flushed red at the very moment. the children are so unaware of their mother’s words, he’s mortified you’re bringing this little game in front of his brother.
“are you alright, brother?” baelor amusingly eyed him for his reaction.
“i’m fine. fuck’s sake.” he grumbles, and you reach to wipe the wine off his beard with a napkin. he glares at you while you slyly smirk at him.
“papa said a swear word, mama. he can’t say that!” little daella announced proudly. he forgot that her septas might have taught her a lesson about cursing, having that she might have repeated what he says on a daily basis. you laugh at that as you shake your head, like you're disappointed in him.
“you are absolutely right, my flower. papa has a naughty mouth, doesn’t he?” you tease, and his embarrassment doubles down as he sighs. baelor lets out a chuckle of his own at that as you finish wiping his beard. he’s down the last of his wine as he stood up, ready to start the day and reprimand himself.
“you’re leaving so soon?” baelor asks him, still grinning while you hide yours underneath your goblet as you sip your wine. maekar glares at his brother as well.
“i have a long shit day ahead, might as well be done with it now.” he pushes his chair back, and daella gasps again at his words.
“what a naughty mouth indeed he has!” baelor teases and maekar walks away at that, giving you a squeeze on your shoulder. he sees you tense up when you meet his irritated eyes that could only mean you’re in trouble. you are in very serious trouble.
・゜゜・
maekar is a gentleman. just not right now.
he spent all day thinking about what to do with you while he did his things needed by him before the rest of you were to journey back to summerhall in a few days. and now he manages to corner you in your private bedchamber. you did not hear his light footsteps at first until he clasped his hand around your throat from behind. you gasp when he uses his other hand to cover your mouth.
and now…
“m-maekar, ugh-“ you moan out when he slams back in to your soaked cunt. he has you bent over the bed, dress haphazardly bunched up to your waist as your breasts spill out from your low collar when he pulls them down so roughly. the sound of flesh smacking is obscene as he looks down at your cunt taking his cock so well.
“shutting up now, huh?” he slams in even harder before slowing down to tease you. you whine out when he does that. “look at you, taking it like a whore. i have an irritating whore of a wife, don’t i?”
“s-stop talking and keep fucking me-“ you gasp out when his large hand encircles your throat as he hauls you up, your back flushed against his clothed chest. you moan loudly when he subtly flexes his fingers around your delicate throat, not entirely tight to strangle you, but enough for you to clench around him at the sensation it makes.
“you and your insatiable needs… shall i make you take my seed again for your consequences?” he hummed against your ear as he nipped the tip of it. you seem to like the idea of that as he chuckles at your audacity of wanting another child to carry for him. “of course you fucking do. i’ll give it to you so you can shut up.”
you let out a loud whine as he hastens his thrusts. his other hand reaches down to circle your clit, making you thrash against his strong hold at the immense pleasure while he groans out, feeling himself near as he slams hard against your ass. emptying himself in white hot spurts in your cunt as you let out a cry when you came after. he tenderly kisses your cheek before suddenly releasing, making you squeal as you hit the bed face first. he slowly pulls out, seeing his seed drip down your thighs. you’re fucked out and tired, but he has other plans as he swats your ass.
“get on your knees. who told you we’re done?” maekar commands, and you huff out a breath at his audacity.
“let a woman breathe for a moment.” you manage to speak out until he roughly grips your legs to turn you around the bed. your back is now on the bed, and you shut up quickly when you meet his stern eyes again.
“i ought to use that mouth of yours since you like teasing me so much.” he grips your cheeks. thumb pulling your lower lip down as you dart your tongue out to lick it. his chest rises at that, his cock hardening again.
“or what?” you teased. you gasp when he pulls you forward so roughly. and you let him manhandle you to the floor. your thighs clenched seeing him so mad and irritated. you’re tempted to rile him up again like this.
SUMMARY : set to travel to winterfell, you’re a noble lady on a small convoy in the secluded dirt road when bandits came ambushing you and your men. your two guards were killed and you’re left to run away into the woods as they chase you only to be saved by a winterfell soldier. who’d change your world entirely.
koner x fem! reader
masterlist, @fhrlclln, pt. two
GENRE : nsfw/smut
WARNINGS : assault, violence, gore and smut (oral sex; f! receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, slight corruption kink, breeding kink & loss of virginity)
WORD COUNT : 10.47k
a/n: s(creaming)
likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated !! <3
enjoy !!
“a nearby inn should be close, m’lady.”
the soldier quipped, the cold air brushing the soft skin of your face. you shivered, snow seized to be in your vision as your white mare huffed alongside your breathy sigh. the cloth of furs draping over your body were a comfort as this convey you’ve set on was tiring and undoubtedly cold. you don’t know how many days you’ve been riding with two of the soldiers your father commanded to accompany you, all you had in mind was to arrive tomorrow as early as possible for sansa.
“we’ll be by winterfell tomorrow?” you asked, licking your lips, feeling the coldness chap them. you were thankful to have your cloak on as you couldn’t imagine wanting frostbite on the tips of your ears. you’ve seen worse on soldiers before, not a pretty sight.
“should be, m’lady. once we settle in for the night, we’ll get there in no time.” your other soldier answered, you nodded, gloved hands clutching the leather reins. you wanted to visit lady sansa stark ever since the heavy occurrences had happened, the whole of westeros was still healing and the snow of the north still embodied the frozen chill of what had tragically happened. your father had complained to give you a bigger convey and a carriage to escort you but you declined, knowing well a big attraction would gain the attention of bandits and thieves. and as defenseless you are, two soldiers were enough to protect you from anything.
“might i ask, m’lady, what is your business in winterfell? it’s no common convoy for a lady like you to be traveling in a small group.” the older man asked, turning his head back at you with a smile.
“just meeting an old friend.” you simply replied, offering a small smile in return. “it’s been a while since i’ve been in winterfell.” you added softly.
“are you to be wedded, m’lady?” the younger one asked with a smug grin. the urge to roll your eyes was at the verge, the older one seem to sense your annoyance as he let out a gruff chuckle. men.
“no.” you shake your head, focusing ahead as the sound of hooves dragging on the snow thickened. the two men continued on in front of you, idling a conversation about the younger one’s opinion about the maid he had been fucking. it was annoying to hear men chatter about, but you were used to it. not a day goes by where women are seen to be a object for all men, it angered you greatly but it is how things are seen still. being a daughter to a noble house made it worse knowing your duty was to be a wife for a wealthy lord, give him heirs and be a great daughter to your house. a literal broodmare you were.
you let out a sigh, creating a tiny fog as you turned your head to see the snowy trees above you. you always admired the white snow, soft and beautiful yet deadly cold. you remembered your childhood days when you were playing around with sansa or even arya when the snow got too thick after a night’s storm. snowmans and creating snow angels, it put a smile on your face as you gazed upon ahead until a sudden ruffle in the bushes made you sharply turn your head to the direction of it.
“halt.” the older soldier put his gloved hand up as you pulled the reins to stop. he had sense it too, the sudden noise. “keep your ears open, lad.” he turned to the young soldier as he nodded.
“direwolf?” you asked, knowing the woods hold in a number of beasts. wolves, bears or what.
“could be. but no pack has set it’s territory here.” the older man snickered, glaring at the bushes. you gripped the reins tight, an unknowing dread lurking in from the back of your neck. whatever it is, you didn’t like the idea of something is ambushing the three of you.
“should i check it out?” the younger lad gripped the heel of his sword, the older one shook his head as no other rustle in the bush was emitted. could be a hare or some squirrel by the looks of it maybe. a mild relief settled in as the older soldier continued the path.
“just some animal, m’lady.” the older man assured, you nodded as you gently assured your horse to continue the dirt path.
“are you sure?” you asked cautiously. a snort erupted from the younger one as you mildly glared at him.
“little lady is scared.” he teased as the older one chuckled loudly before adding cockily. “we got the swords and arms, m’lady. you’ll be safe.” they payed no attention to you as they continued ahead, engaging in the conversation before.
you shivered again, eyes looking to the side cautiously, that gut feeling in your stomach still there. you didn’t like how nervous you are now, but who wouldn’t fear of something lurking in the woods when night seems to be falling soon, wishing the inn would be near.
rustle. there it was again. your ears picked up the sound of leaves rustling from the sides, your heart thumped against your ribcage as your two soldiers were chatting and laughing out loud now. completely unaware of your discomfort. your brows furrowed for a second as you tried to ignore it, overthinking wasn’t the best option now as you looked up ahead. the trees shading, snow falling from the sides as the gust of wind caressed your cheeks. it felt tense, quiet even, only the sound of your men’s chatter filling the void as you held in your breath. seconds passed, you breathed out until—
the sound of an arrow and a scream erupted.
“lad!?” the older man yanked the reins of his horse as the young soldier’s shoulder was struck by an arrow. your eyes widened as you too had stopped abruptly, making your mare shriek. the young lad yelled as he held the arrow, blood marking the cloth on his shoulder. you held in your breath as the rustle in the bushes grew louder, the older knight shouted at you to stay put as the young lad frantically tried to pry off the arrow. you grimaced, noting as the older man had gone off his horse as the sound of two or three men shouting came in. bandits.
“keep the lady safe!” the older one shouted, wielding out his sword as the young one nodded, grimacing as he threw the bloodied arrow away. you got off your mare, holding her reins as you tried to back away seeing as the older one fended himself as those three bandits started to clash their swords with him. you held your breath, seeing as your two soldiers tried to fend off the scums. the older soldier managed to slice off one, hitting him in the chest, the young one though had trouble swinging his right arm due to the shoulder wound. the archer had a good eye aiming for his weak spots, you stood silent, backing away slowly as you can hear the young soldier struggle as he was repeatedly being clashed. you couldn’t look, knowing well one out of two are wounded, three being in the lead of the fight. you heard it, the sound of flesh being sliced, the blood curling scream of the young soldier.
“fuck!” the older one grunted as the bandits started to swarm on him now, you gasped as you shakily looked to the older soldier as he locked eyes with you, the undoubtedly familiar glint he wasn’t going to survive this and neither can you. in both of your dismay, one bandit seem to notice you as he smirked darkly, stalking towards you hopped on your horse. turning around to see from the back of the road, a few number of bandits on guard. they had this planned.
“run, m’lady. run!” the older soldier shouted after being pushed to the ground. you didn’t think twice, racing your horse into the woods, you huffed hearing as the bandits shouted to chase after you. your mare shrieked as you guided yourself from hitting the trees passing your way. if one thing you were good at, was horseback, you rode into the snowy woods, not turning around as you feared they’d catch up. you almost saw a opening on the other side, leading to another road making your heart skip a beat.
“there’s the pretty lady!” you heard from behind, making your heart thump in fear as you rode faster. the snow was thick, your horse was having trouble guiding itself in the obstacles and you were in the verge of tears.
“she’ll be a pretty ransom. won’t she, boys?” suddenly, your horse shrieked loudly making the both of you stumble upon a log. you yelped, landing on the snow as your horse was struck on the it’s hind leg with the same arrow. you grunted in pain, picking yourself up as your horse ran away making you tremble as you stood up and ran for it. fuck!
“fucking heels.” you gritted your teeth, bunching your dress up to run. you huffed, the tiredness getting to you. the overwhelming heat your body was producing due to the layers you have making it all exhausting to run. tears pooled in your eyes as you couldn’t take it anymore, your knees gave up, legs wobbly underneath the furs and silken dress as you hid yourself behind a large tree. your breaths were uneven, you clamp a hand over your mouth to silence the heavy breathing as you prayed to the old and new gods for safety.
“where’s the fucking bitch? sneaky one, i tell ‘ya.” heavy footsteps were heard, the sound of snow scrunching made you shiver. fear coursing through your head. each step came closer and closer and you had to bolt somehow. you glance frantically, grabbing a large rock, the same crunch of the snow neared your side. you braced yourself, waiting with a cold breath as the shadow loomed over you.
“i think—“ before the bandit could even glance at you, you jabbed the rock between his eyes as he let out a guttural screech of pain as blood drip down his face from the impact. you drop the rock, running to the other side yet was stopped as a hand harshly grabbed your arm turning you around as you were caged between the body of one man. a dagger pointed directly up your throat, you froze, your breaths labored as the two men laughed as the other nursed his injured forehead and nose.
“fucking whore broke my nose!” he roared.
“let me go!” you yelled, wiggling in the grasp. sobbing as you were defenseless with no other weapon. the man held the blade tightly up your throat, signaling you to shut up as you cried pathetically.
“caught a posh little lamb. and a beauty as well.” one bandit commented looking at your figure from up and down. you gulped, a uneasy feeling in your stomach.
you begged. “please, i have coin. if you want—“
“say your daddy might pay for you? or we can sell you into a whorehouse with that face of yours or we could keep ‘ya.” the man laughed as you shook your head, lips trembling, tears staining your cheeks as you pleaded.
“p-please.” you sobbed, the other man’s grasp around making you want to puke. you’ll die, here and now. or even worse what ever they can think to do to you.
“take her to the wagon.” the man commanded the one holding you. your eyes widened as you yelled for them to stop as they started moving.
“let me go!” you shouted furiously. the man behind you glared as he forcefully tried to carry you.
“shut up—“
“what’s going on here?” another voice interrupted as all heads turned. your breath seized, a surge of hope erupted in your veins as you looked up to see the familiar black armor of a winterfell soldier. your eyes were desperate, the young soldier seemed to observe the situation first as he met your eyes. big brown eyes laced with suspicion stared at you as you struggled in the death grip. something clicked in his gaze. your lips trembled as you wanted to shout but knowing the man behind you would cut your throat if you ever did.
“nothing at all. why don’t you fuck off, eh?” the bandit scoffed as the young winterfell soldier momentarily held your gaze before turning to the man. hand resting upon his sword.
“seems like there’s something. let the lady go.” he commanded, gesturing to you. “i can pay you lots and fuck off as well, ey? let the lady go.” his voice dropped, noting he was serious.
the bandits laughed as their leader shake his head. fishing out a dagger as he grinned widely towards the young soldier. “you’re just some winterfell foot soldier, might as well cut you up and be with it.”
“please.” you uttered weakly to the soldier. he nodded, as the two bandits started rounding up on him. you closed your eyes, not wanting to see it. your two soldiers were dead just by those men, what more of a young soldier? you can hear the clashes, tears drip down your cheeks as the man behind you gripped you tighter, a blood curling scream echoed the snowy forest and you grimaced hearing the sound of flesh being ripped.
“fuck me. h-he’s killed them!” the man behind you uttered nervously. confused, you looked up, seeing the winterfell soldier drove the tip of his sword to the neck of the kneeling bandit. blood coating his sword, no trace of any blood. the other one was laying on the snow, face front, crimson painting the white ground as you let out a sigh of relief. you looked to the young soldier as he pulled his sword out to stalk towards you and the remaining bandit, clear intent to slash the man behind you. the harsh grip lessened as you managed to free yourself from the grasp of the man before the he came sprinting away with trembling curses. going back into the other part of the woods, you huffed, watching him cowardly run off, your attention now to the rip of your stupid dress.
“this damn dress!” you annoyingly sighed, holding yourself upon the bark of the tree, knees almost giving out as you tried to stand still but you wobbled, feeling the aftermath when you had fallen off your mare and the fatigue.
“are you alright, m’lady?” the voice of the winterfell soldier made you turn around as he worriedly checked on you. you blushed as you were met with these gorgeous brown eyes as he asked again. “can you walk?”
you dumbly stared upon him, the adrenaline still coursing in your veins as you licked your chapped lips. embarrassed at most parts but grateful he had saved you. he was handsome, you noted, cheeks flushed red, doe eyes laced with worrisome, broad nose and defined jaw, brown curls you could see from the helm he was wearing. a stature of a man who trained everyday, tall and well-built even if he was in armor. a handsome soldier. you realized the minor silence as you stuttered out, glowing knowing you had just found the man who saved you attractive.
“i-i’m alright. just tired of r-running.” you weakly said, still scared what just happened to you. your horse was gone and here you are, blushing at a mere winterfell soldier. “and thank you so much for saving me...?”
“a-ah, koner, m’lady.” he bowed as he smiled at you. your stomach churn with that fluttery feeling. “i was nearby and saw a white mare by the road. is it perhaps yours?”
“thank you, koner.” you smiled using his name and nodded. “and yes, it is. is she…?”
“injured, but i’ve got her. bloody arrow on her leg, i pulled it out and patched her up.” he chuckled awkwardly. you nodded shyly as you tried to take a step forward yet stumbled a bit as your vision went a bit blurry. you shivered as suddenly a big warmth envelop your body, an arm wrapped around your back as you stuttered out an apology for being clumsy. you looked upon koner who was still had a worried expression plastered across his face. how cute.
“i-i apologize. i’m not used to this.” you trembled as koner helped you stay upright. your hands on his plated chest to keep you steady. normally, you never had been this close to a man before, let alone a soldier but something about his gentle grip around you made your heart thump faster than ever but the voice inside your head said otherwise. this is wrong.
“it’s no worries. let me help you.” he whispered, the closeness overwhelming your senses as his hand squeezed the side of your waist, bundle of nerves tickling you there. “can i?”
you stammered. “i— yes. you can, o-oh!”
your eyes widened as you were hoisted up in his arms. both of his strong arms carrying you like a princess. your face went warm, your gloved hands encircled his neck as koner didn’t budge a bit making you feel rather worried if you were too heavy for him.
“you could’ve just help me walk there.” you muttered shyly as he walked the two of you up the trees, back to the other road. koner let out a chuckle as he shook his head. never in his life did he get to a carry a pretty lady in his arms but now, he might have hit jackpot for carrying a pretty noble lady this day. he had been riding nearby, bored out of his wits as to why he gotten too far. the woods were fairly quiet in this part as he had always ridden through here since he was a lad. yet the white mare running out of nowhere made him curious seeing it out of the blue. and the muffled screams of your pleas done it for him. you were lucky, if he weren’t there then things would’ve gotten worser.
and gods, you were beautiful. he recognizes you fairly, he knows you’re from a minor house close ties with house stark, he doesn’t remember much but he surely remembers seeing you and sansa back in the days when you were still little ladies and him, helping his mother in the kitchen while carrying a sack of potatoes. and now, a fluttery feeling arose in his chest seeing you slyly nuzzle yourself in his chest, the warmth he was emitting too comfortable for you not to bask in.
“your knees gave out and you’re struggling to walk with your heavy dress. this is fine, m’lady.” he commented as you glared at him. the shyness still in you as you looked away. koner hid a smile, navigating out from the trees to now an open snowy dirt road wherein your mare was waiting patiently alongside a black horse, his you assumed.
“i think i can walk n-now. thank you again, koner.” you stuttered, the cold still bothering you. he shook his head again, noticing how shyly stubborn you are.
“nonsense. you’ll be riding with me on my steed, m’lady. your horse is injured and i can’t have you navigating on your own.” he declared, setting you down in front of his horse. you couldn’t say anything else other than be grateful he was helping you. you nodded as he helped you up his horse. hands grasping the side of your waists so gentle, you couldn’t help but feel flustered again. you sat perfectly on the saddle, adjusting yourself as you watch him tend to your mare. making sure she’ll follow the both of you.
“you’re a winterfell soldier? are you perhaps riding back to winterfell? ” you asked as he finally seated himself behind you.
“sworn to house stark, m’lady. and yes, i am.” he replied as he leaned forward to grab the reins. you felt fluttery again, his plated chest brushing against your back and the heat of his gentle breath brushing against your ear as he pulled back, making you gulp.
“you have my biggest thanks, koner.” you said with much gratitude.
“just being a good soldier, m’lady.” he chuckled behind you. you could feel him pull the reins as his horse started walking to the direction ahead. you sighed blissfully, feeling worn out and tired. you hadn’t planned running into the fucking woods with bandits chasing you and a handsome soldier coming into your rescue, it’d be one hell of a tale you could tell sansa about. your father on the other hand might scream his head off telling you he was right to give you a carriage ride.
“if i may ask, m’lady. what were you doing in the woods?” koner grunted from behind. you stiffened, shrugging.
“ambushed while riding to winterfell. i hadn’t expected bandits in this side of the road. my two men were dead already and i just ran for it.” you explained, letting out a shaky sigh.
koner blinked. “to winterfell you were heading?”
“i’m just visiting.” you smiled, looking back at him. “i promised your queen to visit her once in a while. i haven’t been there since forever.” you sadly added, koner seemed to grasp your meaning. he nodded, eyes focusing on the road.
“and you?” you boldly asked, eyeing him. “what are you doing here? outside of winterfell?”
“what’s there to know for a mere soldier, m’lady?” he chuckled.
“plenty.” you grinned, your back brushing against his chest. “soldiers have interesting tales to tell and stories to spew. other than battle or wars or such.”
“i’m afraid i lack those qualities.” he countered as you shook your head.
“there’s no harm to tell me who you are, koner.” you assured. “out here, i’m not a lady of my house for once.” you added shyly, it was good to ride alone without the same old conversation you’d hear from your family’s lips. the reminder of duty, the etiquette and all other shit you were raised to do. all complete bullshit.
“you are still a lady to me.” he softly said, looking at you as he gave in. “i got tired of guard duty, wanted to ride outside of the walls for once. and maybe save some pretty lady from bandits.”
pretty. your cheeks warmth as you looked back to the road as you muttered at his tease. “you expected so?”
“my expectations were satisfied to say, m’lady.” he whispered, tone lower than he intended. every step of the horse had you two gently brushing against each other, koner seemed to enjoy the shyness you radiated as he held back a smile.
“please.” you leaned back a bit as you met his eyes again with a fluttery heart, wanting him to use your name than just some title. “y-y/n will do just fine.”
he blinked, looking at your eyes then to your slightly ajar lips. a little pouty and wet, he gulped, staring at them. blood rushed through his veins then down to his trousers as he blushed at the obscure thought. it was such a danger how close you are to him when he can smell the scented fragrant oils you wore were making him dizzy. all innocent, pure, is what he can describe the look on your face and he felt ashamed the way he was thinking about you now.
he yearned yet reality reminded him, what would a lady like you be with a man like him? a young soldier, who grew up in a barn, knowing nothing to please a woman or even court a woman like you. it’s forbidden, he reminded himself as he ignored the thump of his heart and the uneasiness down his trousers.
“then lady y/n it is.” he teased, snapping out of his thoughts as you frowned at him cutely.
“i suppose that’ll work.” you mumbled at him as he let out a small laugh. half of the ride consisted mostly of your conversation with koner. you liked him, the way he just seemingly comforted you. talks that held no restraints, no lies or deceits. it felt oddly good how you seemed to slowly know him, he got comfortable telling he grew up in winterfell for most of his life. his mother was a cook serving under house stark and his father was a soldier as well. he had siblings, all of them still young and he was the oldest, helping his family whatever he can do. and you, spewing some stories about your time with your own family.
“night’s nearing.” he gazed upon the horizon, the snow still falling from the sky. as he huffed out, a smoke clouding his face. you seem to glimpse a warm light nearing, craning your neck to see it clearly.
“that should be an tavern.” you pointed.
“if we continue to winterfell now, i don’t think it’ll be safe to go against a snowstorm.” he says, seeing as the clouds form above. “we’ll settle by the inn?” he nods towards the warming light amidst the snow. the sound of men laughing faint in the distance.
“that’s for the best, we can ride by morning.” you agreed as he directed the horses to there. the wind getting stronger and the coldness of the nearing night making you shiver. you drap your fur cloak tighter against your body, subtle warmth koner was emitting helping a bit as you can hear the loud chorus of men laughing and talking.
“seems like a merry night.” he chuckled as he stopped the horse, getting off as you patiently waited for him to guide your injured mare to one of the inn’s stable boys who gladly took her in. the inn was big, must have been a spot for frequent travelers. koner turned his attention to you, grasping your waist again as he helped you get off the horse.
“easy, love.” he muttered, standing in front of him. you thanked him as he guided you to the tavern’s door. you were met with the inn’s warmth, the heat of the lit fireplace setting a cozy ambiance as several men and women were drinking inside. koner stood beside you as his hand brushed against your back, guiding you two in a vacant seat. you pried off your cloak, setting the fur beside you as koner sat in front, his helmet placed neatly on the table. his set of dark locks were displayed as you glanced at him noticing the way he was observing the busy tavern.
“you two together?” a cheery voice interrupted the silence as you looked up to see a bar maiden.
“ah, yes. any rooms left for the lady?” he asked, gesturing to you.
“got one more room vacant, lad.”
“no other rooms for him?” you raised a brow as koner flushed embarrassed you were going to pay a room for him.
“i’ll be sleeping at the stables—“
“nonsense. let me repay you.” you urged, fishing out the pocket of coins in your cloak. koner was about to protest but you shushed him with a solemn look. “it’s the least i can do.”
“thank you.” koner nodded, his chest fluttered at your kindness as he looked away. feeling flustered as the woman in front of you smiled.
“i’m afraid we’re almost booked full, m’lady. as i said, i got one room vacant left.” the bar maiden offered. “but there’s no harm in sharing, you two are together, right?” your eyes widened slightly as the woman smiled at the two of you. koner seemed awkward knowing what the lady is truly implying.
“we’re not—“ you blushed yet held yourself back. “the room is fine. i-i suppose that’ll do.” you stammered as the bar maiden nodded as you handed her the coin pouch. “and a bath please. for both of us. and whatever stew you have and your finest ale.”
“yes, m’lady.” the woman scurried off, leaving a trail of awkwardness behind as you looked over to koner. you cleared your throat, the loud thump of your heart not stopping as he let out a chuckle.
“have you been here before?” you broke the awkwardness, glancing at the whole tavern. different faces of soldiers, travelers and even a few drunks roamed it.
“a few times.” koner leaned back, getting comfortable. “been here to get drunk.”
“this far from winterfell to get drunk?” you laughed.
“they got the best ale.” he shrugged, smiling. “and the best place to pass out drunk.”
“you men and your drinking.” you shook your head, a smile still on your lips as you removed your gloves. you sighed blissfully, the day getting to you.
koner grinned. “it’s a great way to pass time. to drink and wake up feeling fucked while still young. father’s always getting yelled at for getting drunk so i’m savoring the time i don’t become like him.”
“you don’t have a woman? or anyone?” you asked with faint disbelief and relief at the same time. he was attractive, surely he had someone.
he snorted. “i don’t. and i haven’t found one yet.” he claimed, keeping it vague knowing no one really batted an eye to him. at least that’s what he believes.
“i find that hard to believe.” you confessed as his cheeks turned a faint shade of red.
“really?” he squinted at you, crossing his arms to hear your explanation. he felt smug all of the sudden, he could see it, the subtle glow behind your eyes as you blushed at him. you were so obvious it was cute to witness.
“yes. y-you have the looks and you’re a gentleman, who wouldn’t?” i would. koner’s grin went wider as you looked away from his eyes, he smirked, liking the way you suddenly went back to being shy. he bit his lip, a sudden pride overwhelming him, he wasn’t sure, you were a lady from a noble house. you must be someone’s wife or what.
“and you, m’lady? are you wedded?” he asked as you met his eyes again. you shook your head, the idea of marriage still a thorn to you. you could faintly hear your mother’s nagging words that a woman’s job was to be a wife.
“no. i’m not. thankfully.” you joked as something clicked on koner’s expression. “father always wanted me to be wedded quickly. he said i have to find the right one. or they would.”
“and you haven’t been with any man?” he boldly asked, looking from your eyes to your lips. a sudden heat he felt as you sat still staring at him. usually, he knew ladies unwedded like you were prohibited to bed a man or anyone, unless you are married and to be only consummated at your wedding night. but you looked the type to listen to that idiotic rule. he mindlessly thought about it, just soft and innocent, those lips he guessed weren’t kissed just yet. roaming questions circled his mind, all thinking if you even ever had been with someone.
“yes.” you whispered softly, suddenly feeling on edge at the lack of experience you have. “is that bad?”
well, fuck. “not at all, m’lady. it’s good to be finding the right one like your father said.” he gulped a large lump in his throat. pupils dilated, you were struck with silence as you breathed out, fiddling the exterior of your dress underneath the table as you nodded.
“but do you?”
koner’s eyes trailed to yours, confused a bit at your question. “do i what?”
“do you b-believe i’ll find the right one now?” you held your gaze.
“in a tavern filled with drunkards and filthy men?” he laughed. “you should be finding ‘em in some posh place. like a fucking feast or ball.”
“i think not all in this tavern are drunkards i’d be searching for, koner.” you giggled, looking around to see he was correct. he sat quiet, his mind gearing as he processed your words as a stutter escaped his lips, the tips of his ears red. it couldn’t be—
“m’lady, the room’s ready. i’ve brought up a hot bath and gave you two our finest ale and stew.” the same lady came back with a grin. you thanked her, standing up from your seat as you turned to koner who put on a small smile for the woman yet shyly looked to you.
“i’ll stay here for a while.” koner smiled as you nodded yet felt a little disappointed he wasn’t coming with you up the room. with one final look, you were guided by the bar maiden as koner watched afar to see your figure go up the stairs. he sighed to himself, he felt giddy all of the sudden. like a young boy again with a massive crush and a raging erection hidden underneath his trousers. you were too soft, and so oblivious what you were doing, the way your eyes turned doe at the moment, an ambrosia he could not explain. a dangerous one.
shit. he needed ale. or something stronger, just to clear his head out. standing up, he stalks over to the bar, fishing a coin out as the bartender nodded at him.
“one pint.” he muttered, placing the coin in front of the old man.
“your woman, lad?” the man asked, placing the ale in front him, gesturing about you as koner took a sip as he shrugged.
“nah. just saved her from bandits.” he replied, the sweet ale covering his taste buds, still the thought of you running in his mind.
the man scoffed. “well, fuck me. you sure ‘s not your woman? or are my shitty eyes deceiving me?”
“what the fuck do you mean?” koner grunted, leaning against the bar as the old man smirked at him.
“all i’m saying, boy, is that if it ain’t your woman yet then you best be quick to swoo her, ey? took years behind the bar to not see it and not every soldier gets to fuck a lady.”
“she’s not just some fucking whore, old man.” koner glared at him as the bartender laughed.
“whatever you say. but those eyes of hers tells me otherwise.” the man shook his head. cleaning the space in front of him with a cloth. koner gulped his ale, an uneasiness from the man’s words, realizing he was contemplating. no. he couldn’t and he shouldn’t, you’re a lady he saved and by the seven gods, you barely knew him. and he barely knew you. you were just this pretty girl, too pretty for him. but that made it all so exciting for him. he knows, he surely knows there was something else between the two of you.
fuck it. he thinks, the last drops of ale he gulped as he slammed the wooden pint down with a thud. a tingly sensation surged through his veins, the strain in his pants overwhelming as a boost courage bloomed in his chest. he wiped his lips, glancing up to the stairs as he finally made the decision to follow you up. hoping this wouldn’t go bad.
“there you are, lad!” the same bar maiden met him by the top of the stairs. she was holding a bucket as she patted his shoulder with much glee. “room’s ready, it’s down the hallway! i say, your lady isn’t looking good right now. probably tired. best check up on her though.”
“is she ill?” koner questioned, suddenly worried. the bar maiden shrugged, cheekily passing by him as koner was left to wonder worriedly about you as he stalked over to the room.
•••
you leaned your head back on the wooden tub. the warm water kissed your tired skin as you sighed blissfully. the room was fairly big enough, the bed was fine and clean. you liked it, it felt more cozier than ever as the night settled in, the dim lights of the candles illuminating the dark room making it all warm. the floral notes hit your nose as you breathed in slowly. the bath wasn’t necessarily clearing your frantic mind, though it helped you relax a bit as you felt your body feel all tingly again at the thought of koner.
he’s a stranger. you repeated in your mind, knowing well the beat of your heart was saying otherwise. and the sensation below another embarrassing thing you felt. practically you were gawking at him every chance you get. you pursed your lip, a nagging feeling you felt as you couldn’t help yourself yearn for him. you’ve heard some stories from maids or even noble ladies about their nights with men. scandalous to say but your curiosity was at the best. was he like them?
you blushed furiously, it felt like your head was about to explode at the heat of your cheeks accompanied with the warm water. i’m just tired, you mercifully thought to yourself, yet your thighs rubbed together unconsciously, expecting, waiting for him to come up this instant. you know those subtle looks, witnessing the time sansa had been looking at joffrey back then. you were no stranger to it, you just didn’t have the courage now to act upon it without feeling guilty. you grumbled, annoyed, the itch fluttering in your stomach a irk you cannot stop. dammit. the sudden creak of the door gathering your attention quickly as your eyes widen before you could ask who it is.
“the lady told me you weren’t feeling well, oh—“ koner paused his steps getting in the room. he was met with another one of his foolery to not knock first, the redness in his cheeks glowed, not just from the alcohol as he stared at your bewildered expression. you, still in the tub, naked, he stammered as he felt himself feel a bit dizzy. either from the ale or his running emotions. maybe both.
you tried to cover yourself as he looked away. you suddenly wanted to laugh seeing him all so shy as you called him out. “koner. i-i’m alright?” you let out a breathy laugh.
“i-i apologize, m’lady. i should head back out—“
“n-no!” you stopped him, turning your body to face him, hiding slyly behind the tub. “i’m done with my bath, j-just wait for me on the bed. this room is yours as is mine, make yourself comfortable.” you reminded him.
“i— of course. thank you.” he nodded, still looking away from you as he set his helm on the table and sat awkwardly on the bed. you stood up, water splashing down. your body dripped wet as you carefully walked towards where the white dress gown was, a courtesy from the woman earlier telling you sleeping in your silken dress was uncomfortable to be in. koner nervously pried his gloves off and the rest of his sturdy armor. his black cloak was folded perfectly as he didn’t want to turn around yet knowing well he caught a glimpse of you naked. it made his brain chummy, the tension in his trousers a mad mess as he looked down to see a tent forming.
“i-i’m done. you can look.” oh, gods. he wanted to punch himself for reeling in at the softness of your tone. you were oblivious to see his fiddles as he stood up from the bed. you were met with the sight of him in his trousers and a cotton tunic on. your eyes greedily took in the exposed pale skin of his neck and collarbone, his arms flexed a bit as your mouth felt dry as you composed yourself. you smiled at him as he smiled back.
“the stew and ale is on the table. help yourself.” you added as he stood before you, the shyness suddenly creeping in again. “a-and i can call the nice lady for your bath, if you’d like—“
“i appreciate it, m’lady. you’ve done enough.” he sincerely said, holding himself back to kiss you right here and now.
you smiled sweetly, still not glancing up to his eyes. “it’s no problem. i owe you for saving my life.” you declared. “a-and like i said, my name will do just fine, koner.”
koner didn’t seem to listen as he was too captivated by your beauty. you looked good, too good in that nightgown. and you smelled divine, like flowers in the summer. the heavy scent flooding his nostrils, making him breathe slowly, trying to compose himself, wanting still to be a gentleman. you suddenly felt nervous, you looked upon him, he was quiet, yet the look on his face darken as you wanted his attention.
•••
“k-koner?”
“you’re very pretty.” he breathed out, finally the courage in him arising. confused if it was the alcohol in his system or that he’s just idiotically set on to woo you, a noble lady he saved from the woods. you were stunned, the sudden compliment making you shy away. the thump of your heart racing again. “i mean it.”
“y-you’ve said that countless times, koner.”
“and i won’t stop saying it.” he proclaimed, eyes shifting to your lips again. “you’re beautiful. too beautiful in this dress—”
“stop it.” your cheeks heated as you wanted to hide your face. “s-stop it with that.”
“have i upset you?” koner suddenly asked, stepping forward. the distance between you two minimal, like a few moments ago, on horseback. your back brushing against his chest.
“n-no, it’s not that.” you gazed upon him, feeling your stomach do flips again. “there’s so much you’re doing, i can’t help but f-feel…”
“feel?” koner urged, waiting impatiently as he stared down on your lips. desperate he is as you are as well. the fan of his breath tickled your nose, was this it? this moment all women were gossiping for, that heat in their core, that sudden addicting yearn you swore you never would feel. but here he was, standing in front of you, waiting respectfully as you couldn’t say it making him feel like he was too pushy now. remembering his place as a soldier.
“i-i apologize.” koner muttered, feeling rejected, no other response was made but you panicked, grabbing him the collar of his tunic to pull him in to lock your lips. the only thing you could do than spew words how much you want him.
koner froze, soft lips envelop his. the same lips he’d been pinning on, he could almost laugh at himself yet he reciprocated it with fervor he’d been holding in. you were adorable, moaning softly on his mouth, inexperienced what to do other than enjoy it. you grasp his tunic, eyes shut closed as his hands grasped your waist. circling half moons, teasing you as you gasped, he smirked, sliding his tongue in your mouth. messy, wet, warm in the inside, you feel so dizzy you were whining in his mouth as koner felt cocky you were writhing in his touch.
“you aren’t good at hiding your emotions, m’lady.” he mumbled against your lips, smirking. you pouted, making him laugh. “all that staring, and you think i wouldn’t know?”
“s-says the man who’s been hiding what’s underneath his trousers.” you countered, making you grin as his eyes widened. he pressed himself against you, you could feel him, clothed clock grinding itself on your stomach. he groaned, the friction a relief as he kissed you again, guiding your body to the bed as he towered before you.
his lips trailed down to your jaw, nipping each skin his lips could brush against as he peppered kisses on your neck. you exhaled, tangling your hands in the small ruffles of his curly hair, your thighs rubbed against each other, the known stickiness you felt dampening. this felt right, it felt good, so this is what the maids felt? you didn’t know but you knew the main part was man’s cock, you bit your lip, you already felt him. and he felt big.
“can i take this off?” he muttered against your neck, one hand grasping your dress and the other holding himself up above you. you bit your lip, his fingers teasing the ruffle of the nightgown as you nodded. in one swift movement, your dress was pulled down to your feet as he sat back to toss it on the floor. the cool air hit your skin, making you shiver, still a bit damp from your bath. you felt rather shy as you watch him gawk, muttering curses to himself as you giggled.
gods, he was about to burst seeing you bare and free before him. he crawled back to you, continuing his trail of kisses until one of your breasts were on his lips as he sucked the erect nipple making you squeal as he smirked. “such a beauty.”
he nipped, sucked, fondled the other one with his large hand. you let out a tiny moan, watching him suck on your breasts, he turned to the other one, eyeing you as he sucked again. harsher this time as you keened at it. liking the way his tongue lapped against your areola, this new sensation a wonder for you. koner loved it, love the way your tits felt, so plump and soft in his hold. but as much as he liked it, he trailed down, kissing the belly of your stomach as he shifted himself to be seated again. liking the way you were already trying to relieve tension between your legs.
“it feels f-funny down there.” you whined, your thighs clamped together, he could see your pussy on display as he licked his lips.
“what feels funny, my love?” he asked, hands grasping your thighs to pry you open. my love. your heart flutters uncontrollably, you whimpered, your hand gliding down to point at your weeping cunt.
“i-i don’t know what to do with this, koner. please…” you begged, the heat of your cunt overwhelming since the moment you met him. you really didn’t know what to do or how to relieve it.
“shh.” he shushed you as he gently parted your legs open. “i-i’ll help you. i’ll make it feel better and you’ll feel so good when i’m done with you.” he promised, you nodded frantically, relaxing a bit as you bended your knees. koner smirked, diving down to take a closer look at your unsoiled virgin cunt.
“such a pretty cunt, ey?” he whispered, kissing your thigh as you whimpered his name again.
“all for me.” he growled, the scent of your wetness making him hungry. he lapped right away, he wasn’t sure if he was doing this right but he just went with the flow, following his mind on what to do. he suckled on your bean, earning a grind on his face as he immediately suckled again as you gasped. grasping his hair tight as koner continued to brutally suck your clit.
“k-koner!” you moaned out as he turned his tongue to your opening. wetness dripping as he lapped it. licking up as he tongue-fucked you, the taste of your virgin pussy sweet and tart, so addicting, wanting more than to spend time eating your cunt out if he had the chance. he was welcomed with the plush of your thighs clamping on his face, muffling your whimpers and moans. felt like he was sent to the skies, back to the gods, died peacefully with pussy in his mouth.
“ ‘s too much!” you gasped out as he ignored you, sucking harshly, licking ferociously as his nose nudged your clit. you felt a knot forming deep within your core, like something tight was about to explode. you felt confused, scared even to this new feeling as you desperately tried to tell koner you felt like something was coming out of you. though it felt good, so good that your hips mindlessly grind against his handsome face.
“by the gods—“ you mewled, chasing that high as your orgasm struck you hard. koner lapped it up, feeling your core tighten as smothered his lips on your dripping cunt. your essence dripping down his chin. you fell limp, legs trembling a bit, koner manage to get his face off your cunt as he licked his lips. suddenly more tipsy than ever. the best he had ever tasted than the sweet ale he had drunk. heaven on his lips. he didn’t deserve this. you hazily looked up, seeing his mouth wet with your juices, a feral look on his face that had your heart jump out of your chest.
“feel better, my love?” he asked, panting slightly, wiping his mouth as you nodded gratefully. you beckoned him, wanting him to be near you, touching you again.
“take off your t-tunic, please.” you pleaded as he nodded, shrugging off the garment to the side. you admired him, heat coiling again in your core, taking in the sight of him shirtless. pale skin, lean stomach, a couple of battle scars there but still utterly beautiful to see. he was fit, his arms were a bit bulky, v-line sharp and oh, his cock was screaming to get out of his wool trousers.
“w-what about you?” you whispered as you glanced down to the bulge. he shuddered suddenly, embarrassed as he hovered above you to peck your lips. nose brushing against yours, smile evident as you were too.
“i’m alright.” he kissed the apple of your cheek. you smiled at him yet shook your head, still a bit in a stupor, you captured his lips again, this time a bit confident as you wrapped your legs around his tiny waist. you wanted him, all of him, this instant. you had enough of imagining, even if you just met him a while ago. shame was out of your head as your hands glided down his chest, to the hem of his wool trousers, ready to pull it down. yet koner gasped as your tiny hands tried to push it down making him flush furiously. his cock still hard.
“m-m’lady, are you sure?” he stared in your eyes, brown eyes dilated as he had to make sure if you wanted this. once you bed him, it’ll be over if you were to be wedded, you were young, a young noble lady that was still pure in your family’s eyes. now only to be spoiled by some foot soldier. he was panicking, worried for you and this moment that would damage your own being. you had to think carefully. even though it’ll hurt him a bit. but he wanted you so badly.
“koner.” you stared at him dumbly, seeing his worried expression. suddenly the racing thoughts of your own duty in your mind, your family. you were giving away one important asset, your own virginity, but…
damn them all.
“n-no. i want this. i want y-you. and i am certain i want you.” you strongly declared, koner’s expression seem to soften at your words. you want him? by the gods, him? he let out a airy chuckle, the room suddenly too warm as he kissed you again, this time slow and passionate as he wanted this to be special.
“what did i do to have you, m’lady?” he murmured, hands touching your soft skin again. you hummed, smiling against his lips, he was so cute.
“for one, saving me from bandits.” you giggled as he rolled his eyes, pressing his hips now on your bare cunt. his clothed erection grinding carefully, you let out a tiny moan as you felt him. desperate to feel him inside. koner was a patient man, yet this time patience wasn’t in him as he pulled himself off for a moment to fumble with trousers.
“aye.” he agreed as he smirked. “a pretty damsel in distress, ey?”
“and saved by a handsome soldier, yes, i’d say this is one good tale to t-tell.” you grinned as he tossed away the piece of fabric, revealing himself. your eyes trained down to his bare cock. you blushed, studying it, the tip was flushed red as it stood proud and large before you. was this your doing? you blushed again, knowing nothing how to please that.
“c’mere, m’lady.” he beckoned as you pouted at him at the title.
“p-please, just my name.” you pleaded, making eyes at him. he growled, grabbing your legs as you squealed at his manhandling. your legs were open again as he positioned himself between them. you let out a exhale, feeling the tip of his fat cock brush against your wet clit making you shiver with the thought of it inside of you. the act felt intimate somehow, how close he is to you, hovering above you with sweat beading his forehead. a look on his face with lust and adoration mixed in.
“y/n.” he breathed out, resting his forehead against yours, breaths mingling, hearts thumping at the same time, the candles burning amidst the vehement stare both of you would not want to look away from each other’s eyes. your name was stars above the night sky in his voice, you felt yourself melting beneath him, each syllable he had pronounce like a sweet tune you listened that made you want to hear it again and again. maybe even forever.
“i-i want you.” you repeated as you cupped his rosy cheeks, wanting him to stick that in his mind if he ever backs down again. koner felt the familiar fluttery feeling again as he kissed your palm, understanding your words clearly as he aligned himself now.
“slow and steady. it’ll h-hurt for a bit, that’s what i hear them say, bit scary. we can stop if it’s too much, just say the word.” he carefully reminded you.
“all the w-way in?” you gaped as he bashfully nodded pecking your lips, the idea of something inside you so unusual. yet all of that nerve-wracking thoughts were dispelled as he coated the tip of his cock with your slick. you mewled, liking it as he grasped himself fully to push himself inside of you.
“y-y/n. gods, you feel so good.” he groaned, your walls clamped around the head of his leaking dick, he stilled himself, feeling like he was about to burst but he shouldn’t. putting a babe inside of you was a very dangerous thing, though it made his cock harder of the thought of you round and plump with his seed. all pretty, his little pretty wife.
“feels weird.” you whispered as you looked down to where you two were joined as he slowly pushed himself in further. the burn of the stretch was there, you hissed, your walls clenching as he rubbed circles on your waist to help you ease it. so far, it felt snug but a good snug when you felt him twitch. koner let out a strangled moan as he finally sheathed himself in, bottoming in as he shifted his weight on his knees. pulling your legs up to his waist as you were panting at the sudden wave of pleasure from his movements.
he still held in his gaze in your eyes as you held it as well, never breaking. a few moments of breathing and skin flushing with heat had you nodding your head for him to finally move. he kissed you again, sloppily desperate as he rocked his hips making you wrap your arms around his back. you held on as he started grinding in, his cock rubbing your wet cavern as you moaned at it. nudging that spot that made you whimper.
“fucking tight. so tight, y/n.” he praised, your lips too swollen as he nipped the bottom. you keened grinding your hips up for more, too greedy. “ ‘s like you were made for my cock. taking me all in— shit!”
he let out a breathy laugh as he started to thrust firmly. the snap of his hips hard, his balls slapping against your cunt, making this lewd wet sound as his stomach rubbed your swollen clit. you savored it, your name being moaned out as you whined at his cock hitting that spot again. hot flashes of pleasure so good, you didn’t want this to stop.
“is all in there, ey.” one of his large hand splayed over your stomach. knowing his fat cock was plowing in you, feeling a little cocky as you clamped around him again, making him pound a bit harder. “love your little cunt, my love.”
“k-koner!” you gasped as he fucked your pussy faster, the pleasure was too overwhelming as you felt tears stain your eyes at the delicious friction he was giving you. he kissed your skin, nipped and sucked until marks show upon your neck and the flesh of your breasts. claiming you as his, his alone, the one who spoiled you, not giving two shits as well about your family.
he grunted, you mewled, kissing him desperately as you felt the familiar sensation in your stomach, where his cock was hitting you. you lifted your hips as koner felt your walls tighten harsher, gripping his cock as he thrusted in faster than ever. obscene skin slapping filled the room accompanied with your moans of his name and his groans. he twitched, wanting to cum now in your hot womb.
“gonna fill you up nice and tight. g-gonna give you my fucking seed in that virgin cunt of yours.” he dirtily promised as you nodded frantically at the idea of his essence inside you. “i’ll make you mine, ey? gonna knock you up— fucking hells.”
“yes, yes, y-yes. please! want your baby—“ you pleaded kissing his neck. he moaned out, driving himself in and out, pounding in again and again as you tightened, that sweet orgasm striking you hard.
“k-koner— oh!” your eyes rolled back, your hips started as he harshly stilled you with his hands on your waist, fingers digging in your skin as he fucked himself out with your cunt tightening around his cock. he groaned, the sensation of you cumming on his cock the best feeling he has ever felt as you he sheathed himself fully, spurts of his cum painting your walls white.
“fuck me…” he uttered out, stars in his vision as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he slumped against your body. gods, was that the best orgasm he had ever experienced. you panted, caressing his back gently as he too was still breathing heavily. like he had just run a mile.
you felt hot inside, his cock was still snug inside of your pussy and his seed felt sticky as it leaked out of your hole a bit. yet, this post-orgasmic sensation was by far the best, felt dreamy and almost relaxing. you felt him slowly regain himself as he adjusted to be hovering above you again. his eyes were blown-out black, lips pouty and red, cheeks rosy and his curls stuck on his forehead. you smiled at him sweetly, brushing the curls off his sweaty forehead as he kissed you briefly. though a mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise as he pulled back, smirking.
“we’re not done.” he muttered, you clenched again around him as he groaned out. chuckling darkly as you felt his cock start to harden again. you nodded, pecking his lips with a small smile. wanting more to feel his sticky cum fill you up again as you bravely challenged him.
“again, k-koner.”
•••
“a-ah!” you gripped the sheets, face turned to the side as your ass was up in the air, being pounded furiously by the same sweet man behind you. you moaned again, feeling so stuffed with his seed, still he was fucking you again and again.
“gonna cum, y/n.” he grunted, balls slapping against your cunt as his cum drip down your thighs as he eyed it greedily. gripping your ass tight as you tiredly let him fuck you, this position a lot pleasurable as you can feel all of him.
“fill me up, please.” you begged, your cheeks hot and heavy as you braced yourself at his rutting, the feeling so good.
“o-one more, my love. give me one more.” he whispered against your ear as he pressed his chest against your back, kissing your neck as his hand started to rub your clit. you whined, he thrusted again and again as you moaned out his name. hips stuttering, walls clenching, him filling you up with his cum as he groaned out, slumping forward. sweat beaded both of your bodies as he laid down beside you, pulling you to his sweaty chest as your cunt gushed out his milky cum. so perfect.
a comforting silence transpired as you listened to the beat of his heart. koner rubbed your lower back, fingers gliding on your sweaty skin making you shudder. you turned your head up to meet his eyes, seeing him so blissed out and rosy. you grinned, knowing how many times you also made him cum. koner sensed your stare as he looked down, smirking as he pecked your lips and squeezed your bare ass.
“that was w-wonderful.” you manage to blurt out, caressing his chest. shy again even though he had just fucked you so many times and naked in his arms.
“indeed.” he nodded. “they were right though…”
“hm?” you hummed seeing as he let out a airy chuckle.
“my lads told me how fucking was a life-changer. can’t believe i first fucked a beauty like you. a lady.” he shook his head, still in disbelief he had you in his arms. you raised a brow, suddenly blushing as you got the grasp of his words.
“you haven’t as well?” you asked, eyes lighting up as koner nodded.
“you are my first.” he whispered, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet promising kiss. “and i am to you as well.”
“really?” you laughed.
“it is the truth, my love.” he declared, pulling you closer in his arms as the candles started to flicker off.
“then i am h-honored, koner.” you smiled, feeling giddy as your heart thumped loudly again making you snuggle up against him. “i really like you…” you confessed, feeling a bit drowsy as your eyes started to droop into sleep.
“and i you.” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. he covered your bare bodies with the fur blanket, basking in the wonderful aftermath. he scoffed at himself as you thought about the first time he had met you a while ago, all some coincidence or maybe even fate decided you two were to be bounded together. he glanced sleepily to your warm body, smiling to himself as he felt the sleepiness take him. you two snuggled up against the soft sheets and furs,
SUMMARY -> the downward spiral occurring in the ashford tourney has reached a boiling point- where you question yourself if you really had been there for your children. maekar, your husband, is there to catch you when all seems to fall at last… even if he also doubts himself if he had been doing right as a father as well.
maekar targaryen x wife!reader
pt. two, three
GENRE -> angst & fluff
WARNINGS -> reader is the biological mother to all maekar’s children in here, aerion being aerion, acts of violence, emotional breakdown, self doubts, arguments, reader & maekar are trying their best as parents i swear 💔 & not proof-read
WC -> 4.4k
a/n: hi for appearing again after being a ghoster, i just felt like writing for akotsk cuz the show blew me away… especially maekar and baelor. okays, bye i’m ghosting again after this. 🤣
when the young prince daeron started to have his dreams- or more-so nightmares, the maesters didn’t know what was the cause of it at first.
he was only three and a half years of age, too young to tell them what his dreams were. each night he’d wail and make fuss, not wanting to sleep as he hid in your arms as you soothe him. his nannies didn’t calm him, only his mother- you would. he’d mumble against your chest, telling you about the monsters made of winter that you couldn’t understand.
oh, your little dreamer. his tiny hiccups and tired eyes devoid of sleep broke your heart as he begged not to dream. but he would eventually tire out as he falls asleep in your arms, the only time he would be in peace. the matter turned to the attention of his father, who’s lineage held the possible cause, and it was answered. your first born held the unfortunate experience of having ‘dragon dreams’ plagued by those who have valyrian descent.
but you couldn’t have foreseen his life would soon crash because of it. that he would turn to liquor for comfort instead of your arms now that he’s grown into a man now. ‘daeron the drunk’ as they say.
“you coddle him too much, that is why. he is a man now-“
“and what would you have me done? let him suffer alone in his room whilst he dreams of these things, that i- even you cannot understand?” you argue with your husband now. maekar lets out a tired sigh as you tell the maids in your steed what to pack and such as they bring out the luggages needed for your things and his.
“he holds himself finely.” maekar points out, you know well that’s a lie, and he’s getting annoyed by the second when the maids scurry past between you and him. “he can fucking handle himself- he better do. that is why i suggest you stay here.”
“i have made up my mind.” you argue back. “and it is not only because of daeron why i am coming to ashford-“
“aegon and aerion can handle themselves as well.” he cuts you off. you can see he’s trying not to let out an eye roll, making you smirk at him. “you are forgetting they are princes, and this is their duty to represent the crown when we’re there. i need you here with our other three.” he tries to convince you again. the gruffness in his tone suggests that he’s grown tired of this back and forth argument you both been having since it was announced that house targaryen were to attend a small tourney in ashford meadow. it was unusual at first, of course, but you knew the reason behind it well enough.
“daella is grown enough. our little flower has proven to me that she can handle the court well. aemon is studying at the septon, and rhae can handle without me for a few days…” you take a step closer to your lord husband. “is it not better for your wife to be there with you? to keep up with the image you’ve been saying this whole time amongst the nobility and small folk there.”
maekar raises a brow, it eases the tension between the two of you as you put your hands on his shoulders then dragging down to his chest to soothe him. you did not want to really tell him that the whole reason for you coming was indeed because of your sons. while your quiet aemon is away, studying in the septon, you grew weary for your other three. alongside with your little dreamer’s problems, your dragon of a son has been becoming a hardheaded man with his attitude and his actions, always picking on your youngest son, your little chick- or egg (he likes that nickname more.)
“sly woman.” he mutters, making you smile. a clatter of something echoes throughout the room making him let out a noise of annoyance at your maids as he addresses them in his usual fashion of temperance. “be done with that!”
your maids jump at his tone as you smile at them kindly. “thank you both, you can continue later.” you dismiss them as they bow their heads, muttering apologies while heading out. maekar mumbled a string of colorful words pertaining how clumsy your maids are.
“i am coming, maekar.” you say in finality, tone softer as he lets out a grunt as a response. “and besides our sons, i think i also need a nice change of scenery than these walls.”
he raises a brow. you look at him pointedly.
“i’d like to see the country side is what i am saying.” you clarified, and he merely lets out another sigh as you kiss his cheek.
“do not complain to me that we aren’t riding with a carriage, then. i’ve had enough words from daeron-“ some would say that your husband’s tone would suggest he’s fed up with you. but you know well that he means good.
“i will ride just as fine.” you tell him with an eye roll, dismissing him with a wave of your hand as you go over to your vanity to bring out the things you need to pack. maekar’s shoulders drop, he’s not arguing anymore as he exits your shared room with a faux scowl. he doesn’t tell you that he’s mildly pleased that you’re coming.
・゜゜・．
as a mother, you know very well when one of your children would be cross with one another. but you hoped that it wouldn’t fester too long that they would turn into hatred as you look at aegon and aerion, standing next to each other. aegon seems tense as aerion mutters something to him. you know very well that they don’t get along despite the ‘kindness’ your second son is showing. you do not entirely know what goes behind your back with your two sons, only that you wish they still hold love for each other in any way. but it pains you to think that they’ve developed their relationship with one another into tolerance. on aegon’s part, his disdain shows greatly for aerion, and it breaks your heart.
daeron, for once, has shown up early. clearly disheveled, like his father just hauled him from bed, the stench of wine still lingers on him as he greets you with a kiss on your cheek. you fix his hair as he pulls back to wait alongside his siblings in the courtyard to wait for the horses be brought up. you gulp, feeling a little uneasy at the moment. you do not know whether it’s the dreadful anticipation of the jousting, which maekar has explicitly stated that your two eldest are expected to join. alongside with their cousin, valarr. his father is already seated on his horse, your good brother, baelor.
you fiddle with the laces on your wrists as you spot the horses. you turn around to kiss your eldest daughter’s forehead a goodbye, and kiss the cheek of your little rhae of sunshine. they both bid you a farewell as your husband appears just in time to escort you down. and you did not forget to tell your two daughters to hug their father as well, which they did.
you take in a deep breath as you assure yourself everything would be fine once you and your family arrive in ashford in days time.
or so you hoped.
・゜゜・．
when aegon had run in to your arms, crying that his cat was thrown in the well by aerion, maekar dismiss the matter telling your youngest son that they shall find a new one to stop his fuss. you on the other hand, couldn’t grasp the concept of how the hell did your second son did- or allegedly did, as he defended himself when you scolded him, to do such a cruel act. it was one of the first things that stuck with you how one of your children behaved like that. maekar often would tell you that your boys needed stricter discipline than your coddling when they’d fight with one another, but you didn’t like the idea of it at first. not until aerion’s more brash actions came to light bit by bit.
to say, you were the gentler parent, as daeron said. their father, for his strictness, had good intentions under that. only you have to remind him to tone it down some times… but he argues that too much softness on them, especially your sons, would do nothing when they are in court or out on the battlefield. they are targaryen children, he says, yes… you think. but they are still your children. what moment of softness would do instead of the weight trusted upon them for the realm? wouldn’t it ease their lives even for a moment that a mother can offer? you’d sometimes argue about that, about your differences in parenting. but nonetheless, you know your husband loves your children. his duty as father is to protect them, and you can see that. you only wish he would see your side more often than you do with his.
people would say you and your husband bicker a lot because of the differences in marriage. sure, it was the truth that your marriage with him was purely because of politics and alliances. but you grew to love him, and so did he… or more-so tolerated you, you tease him with that, and he scowls, telling you not to say that ever. hell, wasn’t the love not visible enough that you gave him six hatchlings to the people who gossip? people were cruel, you’ve grown to realize that when you married into the royal line, false stories would be everywhere. including with your children. especially with your eldest. they had argue that if you and maekar been stricter, maybe he would been a fine prince than a drunkard who prefers whores and wine. you hated that immensely. they do not see what really goes on in your eldest’s hard life as to why he chose to pick that path. of course, his father’s disappointment weighed in that as well.
“they are- what?” you almost fell off your horse when one of the knights had told you daeron and aegon were nowhere to be found when the journey was getting closer to ashford meadow. your husband flew into a pit of curses, telling them to find them as you took a deep breath. and now here you sit in lord ashford’s castle, contemplating whether or not to ride with the men your husband sent a search party out for your two missing sons.
“fuck me.” your husband scowls at lord ashford’s words of assurance. “delayed, they’re not delayed.”
“do not curse our gracious host.” baelor scolds gently as maekar guides you to sit down. your silence subtly irks him as he glances at you before to his brother.
“i said ‘fuck me’, not fuck him. it’s not his fault father bade us attend this miserable circus.”
“might we discuss the disappearance of our sons another time, please?” you interrupt, massaging your temple, feeling like you might grow horns how tense your muscles are. baelor casts a sympathetic look at you.
“i say we go hunting.” maekar tells his brother.
“daeron has done this before.” baelor points out as a servant tends to him.
“and you shouldn’t have forced him to enter the lists. i have told you this.” you added, remembering the countless times your eldest has ran away just to avoid his duties. maekar lets out a sigh at that. “and he has brought aegon along with him…”
“what else who’d you have me do to get his fucking arse on the field? he’s expected to join along this fucking joust.” he grumbles, and you glare at him.
“she’s right for you commanding him, brother.” baelor tells him. you can see your husband’s jaw tick at his brother’s words.
“you’d be more concerned if it was your son, i’d wager.”
“they have been only missing for a day.” baelor says, and you shake your head at the thought of that. a day can mean anything, a day can mean that they’re a day dead for who knows where. “no doubt, ser roland will turn him up with aegon along with him. “
“i admire your optimism, baelor. but that boy is good at making himself hidden for days.” you grumble as maekar walks over to you, munching on the nuts quite loudly.
“and when the tourney’s over, perhaps.” your husband added as he sits right next to you with a loud and tired groan. he reaches for your hand as you grasp it, a gesture that calms your nerves. his thumb massages your knuckles which you favor when you’re stressed.
“daeron belongs on a tourney field, no more than- aerys or rhaegar.” baelor adds.
“by which you mean he’d sooner ride a whore than a horse?” maekar questions, making you sigh.
“what? am i lying?” he turns to you, as if you need to agree with those crude words of his.
“that is not what i said.” baelor softens his tone.
“we know.” you answer for your husband. “i pray that ser roland doesn’t bring back bodies.” you mumble as you shake your head to get rid of the thoughts of your sons’s corpses being brought back to you.
“that will not happen, sister. daeron is skilled enough to take care himself and aegon, despite it all.” baelor says, and you nod.
“i do not need to be reminded of my son’s failures.” your husband says. “he can change, he will change, gods be damned, swear i’ll see him dead.”
maekar stressed as his eyes suddenly stare at something. he lets go of your hand as you zone out when he calls the spying tall hedge knight that coincidentally was the answer for your question of where your youngest son is.
daeron, for all you hope, isn’t as drunk and wiped out to protect his little brother. for aegon, you know he’s a clever boy to begin with. full of boyish ambition and determination that makes you smile when he talks about his dream in becoming a knight someday. oh, your little knight… you whisper to the gods now that pray your sons would turn up soon or you’ll find them yourself.
・゜゜・．
when aerion was five years of age, he had the fire in him as any targaryen prince had. it was no secret that your husband saw potential in him in many ways that reminded of his own fire. there was a fond memory you had of your second eldest when he told you he wanted to be dragon. it amused you that he did not say he wanted to ride a dragon when he received his own egg that still lay unhatched. you knew the dragons in the stories were long gone since after the dance, you sometimes wonder what your husband’s dragon might be. maybe vhagar or caraxes? perhaps vermithor?
you miss your aerion’s childhood wonder… and you wondered when his brutish attitude started when he became a minor menace in his teenage years. the stories… gossips that you have been hearing about his so-called ‘sadism’ threw you off. you know he’s boisterous and prideful, yet cruel… you could not imagine him to be as cruel until he had ‘allegedly’ threw aegon’s cat. sometimes, you think the blasted praise for the targaryen might had gone over his head, and you hadn’t taught him enough to be humble. i was too soft, you now think. a mother should teach, not just nurture, but to guide her children into kind people regardless of what they are expected to be.
but when you watched him dishonorably unlanced ser humfrey a while ago, and killed the man’s steed, you were even more convinced that you failed in that part of his growth. it irked you when they called it an accident. and you knew well enough that your son planned that when he couldn’t look into your eyes after you had asked him if he was alright. you know your children well enough when they had misbehaved.
“i can hear your thoughts from here.” maekar breaks you out of your trance. the fire in the fireplace crackles as you sip your second cup of wine tonight.
“dictate it to me, then?” you manage to tease as maekar’s heavy steps neared. you can hear him take off his outer clothes before you felt the warm of his fingers grip your chin, making you look up at him.
“they will be found, i assure you, my heart.” he whispers, his thumb caresses your lower lip that’s wet with wine. the mention of your two missing sons makes you sigh.
“that is up to the gods if they’ll bring them back to us in one piece…” you muttered. “i could settle for daeron coming back with some poor girl- gods, and aegon…”
you try to humor it to get rid of the impending doom you’ve been feeling all day. maekar merely lets out a concealed chuckle as he sits beside you by the fire. “this is a first that he brought a sibling along with him. did aegon said he didn’t want to go as well?”
“i believe he was the most eager than our other two.” maekar says and you hummed, wondering why daeron had insisted aegon to ride along with him.
“i wished they would’ve just told me than running away.” you muttered, thinking that you might have pressured them with your coming to ashford. oh, it was an embarrassment that you were sulking than enjoying this tourney prepared for lord ashford’s young daughter.
“i will find them.” your husband assures you again.
“i’ll give them a fucking clout in the ear if i have to.” he adds, and you laugh. maekar’s lips twitch to a rare smile at your laughter. your frown has been noticeable all day, and he couldn’t blame you for behaving like this. you lean forward to rest in his arms as you peck his lips. he hums, adjusting his seating so you could lean on him as you rest your head on his shoulder. his chin rests upon your hair as he relaxes.
“aerion killed that horse intentionally, did he not?” you suddenly spoke. your stress seemed to not just focus on your missing sons. maekar tenses as he caresses your arm.
“it was a mistake. do not worry about him.”
“sometimes i wonder if i have been too gentle that he’d think violence is normal.” you confess, sighing. “you must do something about that… i fear he doesn’t listen to me these days.”
“i shall.” he nods, but the thought of that tires him. you look at him with the same tired eyes as you tenderly reached to caress his cheek. the scars hidden behind his beard are felt on your fingertips as he looks down at you. it’s moments like this maekar looks forward after a long day of doing fuck-knows-what he is expected to do. you’re his respite, and he’s certainly pleased that you had joined him in this fucking circus. he does not know what he’ll do without you here, especially the mayhem that’s been happening.
“thank you.” you say with much sincerity. your husband merely grunts before hugging you closer.
“there was never a question.” he tells you, quiet and firm, and you could not be more content than ever.
・゜゜・．
the hedge knight… ser dunk was it? or ser duncan. the one who asked to be put on the list in the tourney had your youngest son after all- as his squire. but unfortunate circumstances came when you met the kind knight. that he had assaulted your second eldest, much to his dismay. assaulted, by which you come to realize the man was protecting a young woman from your insolent child’s actions- as aegon had explained to you.
“countless times i have defended you. have i not raised you to treat any situation or anyone for the matter, with humility and respect!?” you seethed at your second eldest. the room is tenser than before.
maekar had dragged him away after that humiliating counsel he had with the accused sir duncan. you told your husband you needed to speak with him, no interruptions from him whatsoever. from what you gathered, the hedge knight had every right to a trial by combat, but it seemed your son was too of a ‘coward’, maekar says- since he evoked a trial of seven instead, and making matters worse. while you didn’t like the idea of any of your children being put in this situation, it was the law, and aerion had to learn in some way. but it broke your heart how fucking ignorant he is as he stares at you with indifferent eyes devoid of any regret, guilt, or empathy at least.
“mother, if you are worried for the trial, i am surely going to kill the damn fool if that is what you are nagging about-“
“lower your fucking tone, boy.” maekar warns, and aerion tenses.
“that is not the problem.” you point at him as maekar stands idly by your side, his jaw ticking as aerion rolls his eyes. “you broke a girl’s fingers for what-? because she puppeteers a dragon being slain? where in the hells did you get the idea our house was being shamed?”
aerion huffs, annoyed. it takes a lot of patience for a mother not to slap their child at that.
“and ser duncan… gods be fucking merciful to that man…” you say, shaking your head as you reached for the wine, hoping to drown your misery. “are you proud of what you’ve done, aerion?”
aerion’s jaw tightened. “i intend to bring justice on our honor, mother. ser duncan has to pay for his crimes committed on us.” you gulp the sour tasting wine as your brows furrowed at his tone. he seemed to be amused and rather arrogant.
“and the whore-“ he muses. “she’s lucky that the tall buffoon shielded her or i would have-“
“you would have what?” your voice broke, and so did your emotions you’ve been trying to swallow down. aerion’s facade seemed to crack when he sees your eyes glistening with hurt and disappointment. “killed her? is that what i have raised you to treat people so badly? have i failed as mother how careless you speak those words before me?”
your son doesn’t say anything else.
you blink away the tears as you let out a laugh, not of joy but of exhaustion. “my sons… i think i’ve failed all of you. daeron does not come to me when he hurts, and aegon chose not to tell me why he ran along with ser duncan. and now-“ you shuddered a shaky breath as you look at him.
the subtle frown in his expression reminded you of when he was little. he looks like the same small boy that looks so sorrowful when you’re disappointed with him. but you cannot look at him that way again, knowing what he has been doing has made you think you have failed him. you turn away as you refuse to look at him without crying.
“go to your room. you’ve upset your mother well enough. i suggest you fucking think this over before the morrow.” maekar finally intervenes as your sobs filled the room. aerion merely stays quiet as he brushes past his father in a haste. maekar looks back at his own son, frowning.
you could not stomach where you failed your sons. maekar had found daeron in an inn, drinking away his sorrows as usual… but more heavier than before. three of your sons couldn’t look you in the eye now. you wondered why didn’t aegon come back when he was right under your nose all along? had they not trusted you? were you pressuring them? did you give a hint that might have coward them not to run to you? you cover your sobs as you take a seat. you can hear maekar close the door as he nears you.
“do not think this is your fault.” he says quietly as he reaches to caress your tear-stained cheek. wiping away the fresh tears that fall from your eyes.
“i was coddling them, wasn’t i?” you say, doubting yourself despite his words of comfort. he kneels down at your level.
“that was stupid of me to say.” he tells you, his brows furrowed as your teary eyes look at him. “you are a great mother to them all.” he sincerely says. “i confess it may be my fault why they’re such a fucking mess.”
wasn’t it true? he thinks to himself. that his strictness might be the reason for it all. that all your children are too scared to even come to you for comfort when he emphasizes strength in not showing weakness to them. that he made you doubt yourself because of his teachings to your children.
“do not say that.” you tell him as you grip his hand that cups your cheek. “i fear we would have to argue all night who takes the blame.” you muster a chuckle.
“i’ll gladly take it.” he says with such determination. “we will fix this. i promise you that.”
you look into his eyes, wondering how lucky you are to have and love him. “thank you.”
he shakes his head as he brings your hand to his lips as he kisses your knuckles. “it’s the least i can do.”
outside their room stands the young prince aegon as he listens to his mother’s sobs and his father’s disappointed words. he looks at his brother, daeron, from the other side, seeing his expression sorrowful as well. his room is near yours and maekar’s, and he knows daeron heard all of that. egg peeks from the crack of the door, seeing your tired and tearful eyes as he reflects the actions he has done to upset you so greatly. but he blames aerion for adding fuel to the flame with all of this. egg looks to his eldest brother, who’s head is hung low.
“we’ve upset her.” the young prince says.
daeron merely nods. “but i always did, didn’t i?”
oh, mother. daeron thinks sadly as he walks in his room at last.
egg frowns, tomorrow he shall apologize. he hopes daeron does as well. and aerion? he hopes ser duncan kills him tomorrow. for now, he leaves you with his father to not make matters worse.
you are the best mother. egg hopes you know that as he turns away with a quiet step filled with guilt.
i. express yourself, don’t repress yourself | michael robinavitch
SUMMARY -> he’s miserable and horny on a wednesday night, but when he happens to see you, his kind and innocent resident in the same sex shop as him… he can’t help but wonder whether he feels more miserable or more horny thinking about what the hell you’re doing in a place like this? he doesn’t want to admit to himself it’s both when you catch him on another night.
michael ‘robby’ robinavitch x resident!fem!reader
GENRE -> nsfw/smut
WARNINGS -> not proof-read, heavy sexual themes, medical inaccuracies, pining, age difference (not really specified but implied), mentions of sex shops & that, power imbalance, sexual tension, praise kink, sub!robby, self-degradation, blowjobs & slight d/s
WC -> 6.4k
a/n: how could you not degrade this man when he looks like that? all pathetic and miserable with puppy brown eyes lmao. and part two soon cuz i actually didn’t expect for this to be 6k words already lmao.
robby is like any other single man.
he gets horny, sure he can hook-up with any of the available women or anyone in the pitt or somewhere, but sometimes he just doesn’t have the energy and time to pursue and woo someone just to get rid of his pent-up sexual needs. he watches porn on his phone… sometimes on the t.v if he’s feeling extra pent-up. but sometimes… sometimes the old fashion way makes it more thrilling. like going to a sex shop, browsing through porn magazines, like what he did when he was in his college years. maybe watch a peep show or something like that. his home is already quiet and suffocating enough, so why not be somewhere open? nobody would judge him, all the people there might just have the same idea and sentiment as him.
being lonely, horny, and fucking miserable.
“good work today, chief.” dana tells him as she pats his back, ready to go home for the night now. “slow day but thank fucking god.”
he snorts. “must be our lucky day, can’t say for the night shift.”
“ha! you tell abbot that.” dana chuckles as she finally says goodbye to lena and the others as robby stares up to the central board, backpack on his shoulder, ready to leave as well. he’d already done the briefing with jack, so he doesn’t have anything else to do other than say his goodbyes or do an irish goodbye. today was a good but slow day.
“bye lena, have a nice shift.” your airy voice flows through the room like the cool wind. robby’s gaze shifts to see you leaning against the nurse’s station while lena chats you up for a moment. you smile at her, all wide-eyed and sunshine in them. he doesn’t notice his lips tug up as he watches you wave your hand to whitaker, who awkwardly waves back, who’s still charting and munching on a sandwich. hopefully not leaving crumbs on his desk.
and then your gaze sets to his, and he feels that pathetic tug on his heart which causes him to swallow it down.
“dr. robby! you’re still here.” you lighten up even more, and he smiles… almost painfully.
“yeah, still here.” he says. “just… uh, checking if we missed anything.”
“i think we got everything right.” you say beside him, and he can smell your citrusy perfume, your signature scent. he slyly takes a good look at you, seeing you dressed up. he can’t help himself but enjoy these few minutes before you leave.
“you going somewhere?” he asks.
you turn to him, nodding. “couple of my girlfriends and i are going to the movies.”
“well, don’t let me keep you here.” he sadly has to say as he smiles at you. “you did good today, by the way.”
“i don’t know about that. nothing really happened today. which is weird, considering we’re always busy.” you laugh, and it sounded so nice to hear for him, especially after this slow shift.
“you’re right. but you managed and taught most of our medical students today so you did good, sweetheart.” the nickname slips past his lips naturally. your smile sweetened at that, and he noticed it. all innocent and kind.
“good enough for your recommendation letter, then?” you joked, and he rolled his eyes playfully. he couldn’t be prouder that you’re almost completing your residency. you’re the best resident he’s had other than langdon… which he doesn' t want to think about him right now.
“don’t get too excited now, you still got another year stuck with me being your boss.” he smiled, eyes crinkling.
“whatever you say, chief.” you giggled. “well, goodnight, dr. robby.”
“yeah, goodnight. have fun.” he painfully has to say as you leave his side. the whiff of your citrus scent slowly leaves as well. he takes a deep breath as he sighs, still looking up to the central board, with no thoughts of checking it again. just quietly staring and brooding as he finally turns to leave the pitt.
・゜゜・．
the city lights of pittsburgh welcome him as he rides through the highway on his bike. helmet on today, which was a relief if anyone saw him. the wind blows through the night as he finally parks at a corner street before hopping off and walking towards where his guilty pleasure is. the sex shop was like a picture back in the 90’s, neon signs glowing: red, green, blue, pink, and that. the familiar provocative signage of a woman’s leg further deepens the shame in him as he adjusts his backpack on his back before heading in.
it was dim, a few people are in here, most of them were sleazy looking men… just like him. well, maybe he’s the better half of that, but still a miserable and lonely man. he guessed some are married, some single, no wife and kids like him. others are teenage boys who are giggling in the far corner, browsing through the porno magazines. he’s surprised that they still sell that despite the decline because of the wonders of the internet and shit.
he sets off to look around the endless shelves of magazines. wondering what his poison is for tonight or maybe he’ll head to the booths for some peep shows, jerk off and enjoy. as long as he doesn’t go home yet, and be met with silence he’s known since god knows when he started letting himself go. the women on the magazine are all dolled up in heavy makeup, tits out, poses that let him see everything, but he can’t feel the stir in his cock yet.
well… he’s still not that old to have an erectile dysfunction, right? no, he’s old enough that maybe that’s the reason why he’s not turned on yet. or maybe it’s because the women on the covers are not-
he stops himself for a moment with that impending thought.
he habitually wipes his hand down his mouth and beard, a habit that he does when he’s trying to repress himself or calm down. he does not want to think about what he’s been trying to not imagine since… fuck him, he tells himself. trying to. he manages to joke miserably. he reluctantly grabs a random magazine, flicking through the pages as he tries to immerse himself in the pictures that are supposed to entice him.
he should have just suckered up and watched porn on his phone. he thinks now.
“didn’t know women came here. look.” one of the young boys whispers as he hears them from the side.
“no shit, dude. what are you, 80?” one of the other boys says back sarcastically, and he can’t help but feel amused at that. he looks up… he should not have looked up actually.
loe and behold were you…
in the same sex shop.
as him.
you.
his resident… his fucking resident.
in a sex shop. in this sex shop.
his eyes almost fell out as he quickly ducked to the other isle, much further from the entrance as he stayed still and hid there like a fucking idiot. fuck, fuck, fuck, she didn’t saw me, right? he panicked. and the most important question popped in his mind.
what the hell were you doing here?
i mean it was already self-explanatory… but you out of all people- he’d settle for whitaker or ogilvie, maybe even ellis or mckay…or anyone… but you?
he slyly looked up, peeking over the shelf, he’s tall enough to do that without his whole face showing as he tracks your every move. and there you are, walking in the other aisle, moving to the counter. face all serious and quiet as you ignore the several stares when you pass by those sleazy-looking men. he suddenly wants to kick their asses the way their eyes looked at you like you’re one of the magazines they’re holding in their hands. fucking pigs.
it’s really you.
same cute outfit on, the one you wore after that slow shift. he’s definitely not hallucinating, it's you talking to the cashier at this instant.
what happened to the movies with your girlfriends? he had to wonder… did the ‘movies’ entail this? he’s curious where you’re going as the cashier hands you something, and you move away. he follows his gaze where you’re going, and he’s utterly shocked to see you get in one of the booths for the peep shows.
movies, huh? he lets out a low chuckle to himself as he wipes his face. fuck, he didn’t expect this at all. what was he expecting, really? you, the sunshine that you are. always greeting people with a shy smile, tending to patients so kindly that gloria can fuck-off with those ‘patient satisfaction scores’ when you’re already doing that. he never once heard about your romantic escapades no matter how cunning princess or perla are trying to suck it out of you. you’re a great doctor- one of the best that he’s had the opportunity to guide.
and now he’s seen this new side of you.
in a sex shop for fuck sakes.
oh, god- he wonders… he wonders what you’re watching now behind the booth. behind that closed door. and he feels blood rush all over his body. to his ears, apples of his cheeks, neck, and…
oh, fucking hell. he looks down, there’s a slight bulge in his pants. out of all instances- god, this was hilarious. a wash of shame envelops him. he can’t be thinking of what you’re watching right now- whatever porn movie you’re indulging in, he doesn’t have the right to know. it’s your privacy. and he doesn’t want to stay here any longer when you come out of the booth and see him here.
see him being miserable and horny like these sleazy pigs.
he walks out of the sex shop in a haste. he quickens his steps when he’s outside, being met with the cold air that doesn’t help his shame.
what a night, huh?
・゜゜・．
the day after was hard.
really hard for him.
he spent all night under the shower, a cold shower to get rid of his… problem. he’s mortified- mortified in a sense that his ‘reaction’ stemmed from the fact that he saw you in a place where he thinks you should not belong. was it the absurdity of it that made him hard as a fucking rock? that you, the kind woman that you are, who he thought of as innocent as a feather be in a place housed in filth and pleasure?
sexist, much? the little voice in his head berates him.
it was not like that… he tells himself. just that- it’s you.
the woman he’s been trying hard not to think of. he’s already got a bad wrap in the dating scene. everyone in the hospital knows about his messy escapades. he’s a walking red flag, he knows that. he’ll get what he wants then leave when things get serious. he even got slapped in the face when this one nurse he was ‘dating’ told him how much of a asshole he was to fuck and run. and to add that, you’re his resident, who is almost completing your residency.
and he would not do that to you.
saviour-complex as they say. but isn’t he doing the bare minimum by leaving you alone? he doesn’t fucking know. all he knows is that he can’t, he won’t, and he needs to grow up and move on.
and no matter how much he wanted to see you smile at him, just the two of you. hear your laughter near his ear as he buries his face in the warmth of neck. your citrusy scent enveloping his nostrils, making him feel all calm and at peace. or your gentle hands that will cup his face, telling him he deserves to be here. that he deserves to be with you.
a man could only dream, right?
now these thoughts sparked even more the fact that he’s got a glimpse of you’re hiding. that you have needs, needs that he can satisfy… and he wonders what you were watching. was it soft porn? do you like it soft and gentle? or maybe passionate and raw. or… fuck, maybe even hardcore and that kinky shit. hell, he can do that if you want to.
no, no, no, no- he has to stop himself right now.
the grip he has on the ipad he’s holding tightens as he sets it down on the desk. he removes his glasses, leaning back as he sighed. today’s shift was already busy, a complete opposite of yesterday. and he’s glad because that means he won’t be interacting much with you today. he’s got interns to teach, and you as well. with the number of trauma cases coming in, he hopes he won’t have to meet your eyes and feel the shame in him. or stand close near you and get a hard-on.
“you’re looking rough today.” dana quipped behind him, busy looking at her own ipad.
“aren’t i everyday?” robby manages to joke, almost mirthfully.
dana looks at him through her own reading glasses, seeming to eye him up and down. “hmm, you’re right. but you look like you can use a drink with that face of yours, robinavitch.”
he manages to huff out a laugh. “oh, you have no idea, dana.” he finally stands up, ready to take the day on and forget about last night. “you have no fucking idea…”
dana casts him one last judging look before shrugging at him. he leaves, already being called to trauma 2 as he sighs.
・゜゜・．
for the rest of the days that followed, he avoided you like the plague. maybe a quick ‘hello’ or consult here and there, but he didn’t linger longer than he used to do with you- joking and talking about whatever topic was in hand. he avoided you like you were gloria. some people wouldn’t mind about this sudden and actually very minuscule shift in the air. although, of course the one who noticed it happened to be the most known observant man in his life that will point it out to him out of the blue. he’s actually frightened the way jack does these things like this almost accurately.
“you’re very weird today.” is the opening liner jack says as they do their handoffs.
“…i don’t know what you’re talking about.” is his most obvious reply that seals the deal with jack abbot’s accurate suspicions.
“do i have to point it out in the open, brother?” jack stares at him, holding the chart in his hand that’s deprived of his attention. robby sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
so… he tells him in a whisper… in an empty trauma room for privacy. but his nerves are on fire as he looks out in the windows, hoping you’re not near. and all he got from jack was a hum and a very amused look.
“am i fucked up?” robby asks him, worried.
“100%.” jack immediately says, and robby glares at him. although point-taken. “i mean, i understand… why were you in a sex shop in the first place?”
he shoots him a pointed look.
“okay, okay. self-explanatory, i know.” jack raises his hands up in defense. “so… let me put this straight. you’re acting all weird around her because you saw her in that place. normal reaction, probably the most common. but… the other added reason, i might add, is that you get bricked up thinking about it? well, that’s… fucked up-“
“don’t have to be an asshole about it, i’m fucking dying here just- just thinking about it!” he stops himself from raising his voice. “it’s her… in that shop.”
“sheesh, i know you like the woman, man. didn’t know you liked her so much that you think she’s too innocent to be there.” jack whistles, very much liking hearing him getting tortured. “but hey, soon you’ll forget about it. try not to think about it most of the time.”
“that’s the problem. are you even listening?”
“excuse me, what else do you want me to say?” jack has the audacity to be offended. “should i say, ‘oh! yeah, man, of course. she shouldn’t be there in the first place. that’s why you’re like this.’ look, i’m not someone who’d shame anyone for tapping into their… sexual fucking needs.”
robby lets out an exasperated sigh. jack was right, of course. all the time, in fact.
“robby, my brother. i admire you for not jumping on her like you usually do with the poor women who’ve crossed your path. means she’s special, right?” jack consoles him, and robby nods. you are special. the most special thing he doesn’t want to fuck up.
“she is.” robby whispers, and jack smiles at him.
“well, don’t fuck it up if you ever want to actually be with her. this kind of thing… it’s normal to be weirded out, of course. you saw her in a new perspective. but you gotta get in your head that everyone does this shit. not just you going into a… sex shop.”
“you’re not gonna let this go, are you?” he eyes him, and jack shrugs before patting his shoulder. yeah, he’s not gonna let this go the next time robby teases him, and jack has something to fire on to ridicule him.
“we all got our needs, man. no judgement here. just that you got pulled into a hilarious situation that you do know you can just forget about, and not be weird around her.” jack finally says before leaving him alone in the room. “you know… try to repress yourself if you can’t take it anymore.”
robby actually feels a little lighter. and by the window, he finally spots you by the nurse’s station. you greet jack with a smile before your gaze lands on him. his heart started to beat uncontrollably, thinking you know he was there that night. but no… you wave at him shyly. he can’t help but wave back, finally letting his shame go. letting the curiosity of what you watched that night go. you’re here, being normal with him. and you didn’t know he was there, and you certainly did not know about his… hard dilemma.
it was that easy, told you so. jack’s voice echoed in his head as he finally exited the trauma room. with a plan set in motion of how he’ll regulate himself.
・゜゜・．
he took it to heart what jack suggested.
he distanced himself from all things sexually. from jerking off, watching porn, going to the sex shop, and thinking about you in that sense. he was doing good for the first few days… felt refreshing, like he’s transformed into a young man again. or maybe he finally accepted that he’s old and his dick’s not gonna work the same way it used to be. that he’s reached the state of pure nirvana and peace. matter fact, maybe he can switch careers, and become a priest or monk for how long he’s been celibate.
yet… it got hard after talking to you in those days.
really hard that whenever you look at him, he can’t help but think about what you’re doing behind closed doors… or booths. that he’s suddenly hyperaware of every blink of your lashes, tiny things that suddenly make him want to run to the nearest bathroom. how you wet your lips when you talk to him about this one patient who- who he gives no fucks right now, and just quietly admires your face. the face he wonders what it would look like if he drops down and eats you- okay, stop.
he’s not ignoring you anymore, that was a good change. but the cost of that was him torturing himself that he thinks he might be into edging if this was the case.
you’d like that, wouldn’t you? okay, stop, again.
and now he turns to other mundane and boring things to avoid his hand from reaching down there when he’s home. he’s off on sundays, and he actually doesn’t work harder in the ED like he usually does because you’re there, so he starts jogging. he does wordle, rides around the city in his motorcycle more often, do some yoga (he finally listened to abbot but minus the nakedness), read more books, and maybe smoked a cig here and there just to busy himself.
and like all hard times, he breaks. he’s just a man, after all.
on a cold sunday night he drives downtown to the familiar place of sin. he did not want to go here again knowing you come here. but maybe that night was a one time thing, right? maybe you did it out of curiosity and need. a need he can satisfy- fucking hell. and all honesty, he does not know a similar sex shop like this one that houses the nostalgic magic of porn magazines and peep shows. or maybe deep inside, he thinks you’ll be here. but he quickly shuts down that thought,
so, he goes in, feeling a little out of place after a week of repressing himself. he just needs to watch something, something that will scratch his hard itch, and he can go back to torturing himself. he heads straight to the counter, and inquires about the booths in an awkward manner. the young cashier looks at him with disinterest, and tells him the price and gives him this sort-of coin after he pays, saying that he’ll have to insert it into the machine once he gets in. and now he waits awkwardly outside one of the booths, it seems like a busy night considering all of the others are locked as well.
so he waits… awkwardly.
he considers buying a magazine and getting the hell out of here. but the sound of the door opening finally makes him feel relieved. until…
“dr. r-robby?” he’s met your wide-eyed expression and soft voice of surprise. the smell of your perfume envelops his nose as his cheeks turned bright red.
oh, fuck.
he freezes, and stares right back at you with the same wide-eyed expression until moments later you pull him into the booth, and he still can’t process what just happened. the door clicks shut, and he quickly turns around to be with you in this dim space… with the sound of soft moans coming from the little glowing screen which makes his whole entire face get even warmer. he stares at the porn on the screen, the soft moans come from the man being fucked the hell out by the woman riding him. the woman berates the man under her, telling him how much of a filthy fuck he is. oh wow. this is what you like to watch?
“i-i should go-“ robby turns away from the screen, gaze stuck to you, trying his best not to get affected by what he just watched. the porn you just watched.
“this is awkward…” you finally say, back pressed against the door, and you eye him up and down.
“listen, we can forget about this. i never saw you here, you never saw me here, i never saw you last-“ he has to stop himself with the way he just slipped out a crucial secret. but you immediately clock on to it as you raise a brow at him. freudian slip, as they say.
“you saw me in here before?”
if jack was here, he’d be laughing at his face right now. or worse… looking disappointed.
“i-“ robby doesn’t know what to say. he’s too frazzled, knowing blood just rushed down to his cock when he notices a small smirk appear on your lips. “…yeah. i’m sorry. it’s a public space… i didn’t- i didn’t mean to see you here at all.”
soft moans run in the background, and he feels ashamed as he tries to hide his hard-on from you in a discreet way.
“…so that’s why you’ve been weird around me.” you hum, and took a step closer to him. robby stays still, looking at you carefully. he doesn’t see you grimace or get disgusted just by looking at him. your expression was hard to decipher. were you mad at him?
“yeah… sorry.” he lets out an awkward huff of laughter. trying to appear calm and collected. you don’t say anything for a good minute, just quietly staring at him.
“are you hard right now?”
huh?
“w-what?” he stuttered. you look at him with a blank stare before gesturing down his pants.
“i asked… are you hard right now?”
another flush of blood rushes down at your tone. he can feel his whole body turn hot. the little booth was suffocating, and if he takes one step closer, your chests could brush against each other. robby lets another awkward laugh as he scratches the back of his head. he looks down, and there’s an evident tent on his crotch which further makes him feel disgusting. here he was, inside a peep show booth with his resident, and he’s fucking hard as a rock.
“i need to… go.” he finally says, dropping the coin on the ground as moves past you. your passive expression breaks as you reach for him, tugging on his sleeve, and he almost shudders when your fingers touch his skin.
“robby, wait.” your soft voice further makes him want to leave. it’s gentle, laced with no malice whatsoever. but to him, he thinks the worst.
“i-i’ll see you tomorrow, okay? and i’m sorry, sweetheart. i…i didn’t mean to-“ he cuts of his words as he exits the booth in a haste again, just like the first time. he can hear you call out for him, but he shakes his head, walking even faster to get on his motorcycle and drive away.
and he leaves you standing outside of the sex shop, and doesn’t notice the glint in your eyes as you watch him ride away.
・゜゜・．
he stands very still in a trauma room. watching closely as whitaker and javadi treat a patient who got in for chest pain, and long after had a heart attack as they predicted. he’s just waiting for garcia to come down here, and he can move on to the next patient. he’s been on edge all day after last night. he could not sleep thinking about you and him in that tiny booth. his mind can’t shake that moment…
are you hard right now?
if he could fling himself off the roof right now, that would end his suffering because he could not calm his dick down after that. the only thing that could keep his mind from repeating that was to work, and he has been working for the past 6 hours into his shift. and he has been very adamant on not passing by you at any point and time. but the problem?
you seem to be normal and more present wherever the hell he is. but the ED is a small space, what was he expecting anyway?
he gets out of the trauma room once he briefed garcia of the patient’s stats and passed on to her. he goes to every available room and ward he’s needed, and when he finally stops by the nurse’s station to check the central board… of course you were there as well. and he almost lets his emotions out of his serious facade when you greet him with a smile that didn’t seem so innocent as before. or maybe he’s just being paranoid.
“hi, dr. robby.” you say, looking up to the board as well. he doesn’t say anything back, only a hum as he tries his best not to look at you. “you good?”
he wants to kill himself.
“never better.” he manages to say sarcastically without sounding pathetic like last night. from the corner of his eye, he can see you looking right at him with a smile.
“good.” you grin, and pass by him with a touch on his shoulder. he feels the hair on his skin go up at your warm touch as you leave him alone.
good?
…good? there’s a million thoughts running through his mind about what you mean by that. he finally looks at your retreating figure, and sighs. he’s not gonna have a nice day, is he?
half of the hours after that spent him avoiding you, but you manage to find him everywhere he goes. you smile at him, almost like cheshire cat filled with mischief, and stand too close whenever you get the chance to ask for a consultation. there’s one instance when the two of you are treating a trauma patient, and every brush of your shoulder to his, and the feel of your body next to him has his mind going in circles. and when you pull away, you always leave with a soft smile at him, and he knows he’s about to explode.
he goes straight to the nearest bathroom an hour left before his shift ends. he can’t do this anymore as he tries to repress every thought of you away before the semi-bulge in his pants start to become more noticeable. were you trying to tease him? he thinks, but he doesn’t have a clear indication of that. he closes his eyes for a moment, thinking of anything that will turn him off. he feels so frustrated that he’s considering drowning himself in the toilet.
the door suddenly opened, and his eyes widened. he forgot to lock it… again.
“robby? you okay?” your soft voice makes him groan as he turns to you. feeling irritated as he lets out a sharp breath.
“not the time.” he grits out, and you stand there, assessing him before shutting the bathroom door and locking it. what the fuck are you doing now?
“what are you doing-“
“you didn’t answer my question last night.” you cut him off.
robby shakes his head in disbelief. “sweetheart, this is not the place we should be talking about that.”
“when will we ever talk about it, then?” you eye him, and the softness of your tone turns serious. he suddenly stiffens. “it’s a yes or no question, robby.”
he fights back, trying to stay rational and authoritative. “i’m your attending-“
“yes or no?” your voice drops with authority. that you're fed up with his nonsense. he blinks, his resolve finally breaking as he runs a hand down his mouth.
“yes.” he breathes out. and the two of you fall quiet as he looks at your expression, yet your face remains passive just like last night. you stare at him, and he finally gets a semblance of what you’re feeling right now as your gaze falls down to his bulge.
“good.” you praise him at last, and his cock jumps at that. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“…this is completely inappropriate.”
“shut up.” you glare at him, taking a step closer to where he’s standing. “i think we’re way past appropriate with the way you’ve acted around me since… forever, robby.”
he genuinely feels ashamed. “i-“
“did you like what i was watching last night?” your airy tone comes back, and he has to say no and get the hell out of here. “answer me, robby.”
but he nods. “yeah.”
“good. you’ve been good now, aren’t you? answering me truthfully.” you cooed, and he likes the way you praise him. “…you know, i thought you were just being very kind, like the good man that you are. always there for your residents and patients, but you always had a soft spot for me, don’t ‘ya?”
…fuck, you knew he likes you? since when? his thoughts spiral as you’re getting closer to him.
“i really liked it, robby. i can say that i really liked you until you started acting weird all of the sudden. that pissed me off.” you pout, and he wants to say sorry, but he stays silent as he watches your every move until you’re so close to him, he can feel your breath. you like him? his heart beats loudly as his cheeks turn red.
“then i understand now why you suddenly changed… i thought you were disgusted by me-“
“i could never be disgusted with you, sweetheart.” he replies almost instantly. he had to assure you because seeing you frown made him weak. “i’m the disgusting one-“
“shh, none of that.” you say as your hands cup his cheeks and he lets out a tiny breath. “…i really liked it when you’re like this… so obedient and willing. you needed a little push, huh?”
“i-i-“ he doesn't know what to say, but the softness of your hands lulls him.
“yeah, huh? i think you deserve something special from me.” you cooed, your hands dropping down to his chest. he stares at your lips as you grin at him.
he lunges forward, taking you in a heated kiss as you let out a noise of surprise as you kiss him back with the same energy. he grips the back of your neck to keep you steady while your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. his knees buckled as he held you close, desperate to taste you as his tongue nudged your lower lip to let him in. you moan as your tongues clash with each other. the kiss was so messy and hot that it made him feel like he had a fever.
you like him. god, you like him.
robby almost whines when you suddenly pull away. both of your chests are heaving as you look at each other with heavy gazes. you grin as you wipe your mouth, savoring his taste and he licks his lips.
“i was waiting for so long for you to make a move… but i’ll settle for this.” you suddenly say, and robby almost laughs until you drop to your knees in front of him.
“sweetheart, w-we still have an hour until- oh, fuck-“ your hands fumble with his belt. he clenches his fist as he lets you do whatever you’re doing that he knows is downright wrong to be doing in a hospital bathroom.
“shut up or i’ll stop, okay?” you look up at him, and he nods desperately. you unclasp his belt then immediately unzipped him. you don’t waste time to tease him as you pull the band of his boxers down until his cock sprang out. he hears you let out a tiny breath of surprise, seeing his cock jump out red and angry.
“oh my.” you laugh as you grip him. he stares down, seeing you admire his cock as you spit on his tip all of the sudden. he shudders, biting back a moan as your hand starts to jerk him off. good god, he hasn’t touched himself in a week, and he swears he’ll cum any moment at your ministrations. “it’s so big, robby. you’re so big.”
he lets out a tiny groan in response as you continue to jerk him off with a smile.
“aww, how long have you been holding yourself out? it’s so red on the tip and so hard…” you say sweetly as you kiss the head.
robot stutters. “i-i’m not gonna last long. s-shit-“
you suddenly stop your movements, and look up at him disapprovingly. “don’t you dare or i won’t let you cum.”
he panics. “i’ll be good! i promise… it’s just that i haven’t- uhm-“ he’s too embarrassed to say it.
you giggle. “aww, then you’ll have to try harder not cum, okay?”
robby nods sadly. “okay.”
“good.” you praise him, and he twitched in your hand. you kiss his tip again, peppering kisses all over his cock as the other cups his heavy balls. he almost dies when you finally take his tip into your mouth and suck lightly. he had to bite down on his fist to not moan loudly. or else both of you are fired if anyone caught you two. a resident sucking off their attending, what an image.
you welcome him into your mouth as his hands flies down to your head. not grabbing it, but only holding you gently to guide you. you bob your head, moaning around him, liking the way he feels on your tongue. all big and stuffed. he lets out tiny sounds of pleasure as you continue to suck him off.
“i-i’m close, fuck, i’m so close. i’m sorry-“ tears wet his eyes at the immense pleasure you’re giving.
your mouth pops when you pull back, and he lets out a low whine. “that’s okay, baby. you’ll just have to make it up for me later. you’re so good for saying sorry.”
“y-yeah?” he asks breathlessly, and your hand moves up and down on his cock. it’s all sticky and messy from your mouth and his precum. your hands feel so good around him.
“yeah.” you grin and take him in your mouth again. this time you suck him off more harshly making him groan as he holds your head gently. his hips buck as he mutters jumbled words as he feels his balls tighten, almost near.
“oh god, yeah- yesyesyesyes, please-“ he whispers as you feel him shoot out his release. thick white hot ropes of cum keep flowing in your mouth as you swallowed it all. his chest heaved as knees buckled at the intensity of his release. he slowly pulls out of your mouth as you cough a little as he sees some of spend drip at the corners of your lips. he feels all warm and sweaty seeing you on your knees, mouth full of cum as you swallowed it all with a satisfied look on your face.
he helps you stand up as he tucks his flaccid cock back in his pants. he suddenly feels all shy as you lean up to peck his lips.
“you were so good, robby.” you tell him sweetly. “but i think you can do so much better than that, right?”
he should be saying that this was wrong, but to hell with that now. “let me make it up to you, please.” he begs as he kisses you again. you grin against his lips as you smirk at him. it’s as if you planned this from the start. but robby’s too fucked-out and smitten with the way you’re in his arms right now.
SUMMARY -> you hate him, you hate him so much that his mere presence poisons your soul. his animosity and pomposity of a targaryen prince makes you loathe him even more. you do not care if they are royals, but him treating your own home like its his own and treating your father like a servant fuels your anger towards the young prince maekar even more than you’d expect… so why are you thinking of kissing him every time? maekar wonders why you hate him so much, when he wants you so bad.
younger!maekar targaryen x fem!reader
GENRE -> nsfw/smut
WARNINGS -> not proof-read, enemies to lovers (more like mutual annoyances to lovers lol), maekar & reader in their 20’s, loosely based off ‘may day eve’ by nick joaquin, sexual tension, unprotected p in v, creampie, riding, drunkenness, slightly toxic, chaotic af, kinda sub!maekar & arguing
WC -> 8.14k
a/n: i always thought of young!maekar kinda having aerion’s attitude a little… (but not the insane kind aerion has LOL) just ‘ya know… usual targaryen ego. ALSO I WAS CONTEMPLATING USING A FULL PIC OF SAM’S CHARACTER IN THE SNOW WHITE MOVIE, BUT THE BOB IS KILLING ME SO MUCH so i settled for that pic 😭😭😭 just imagine young!maekar with those bangs and hair reaching to his shoulders lololol.
“they say… on a may day’s eve, like tonight, you can do a ritual to see who is your destined someone.”
“and this ritual is…?”
“a mirror and candles in a dark room, and a short chant you’ll utter. once you say the words, you’ll have to glance at the mirror and your future lover will appear, and not your reflection!”
you roll your eyes hearing your little sister whisper with her friends in their little circle. the hall was being prepared for the feast tonight, and you couldn’t interrupt the servants cleaning it up by lounging there. your room was suffocating as it is, and the solar was your only place of refuge. which so happens your younger sister decided to pull her circle of friends in the wrong moment.
“should we do it?” her friend asked, too giddy.
“we should!” her other friend excitedly exclaimed.
your sister and her friends giggle loudly as they blabber about who they think might appear when they do the ‘ritual.’ the book you’ve been reading becomes boring as you try to become immersed in it. the sound of their giggles and hushed whispers continue to annoy you as you finally let out a loud sigh. they didn't stop, and you stood up, deciding to take a quick walk around the hall to see what the fuss was about this feast being prepared tonight. it was all hushed whispers from your father to your mother. about how important it was to have quality meat and use the best ingredients even if it will cost a month’s worth of coin.
scandalous, you think. your mother merely told him that if all of you were to die of hunger the next month, it’s on his head.
ridiculous. you think next, remembering your father told her that if they do not make a good first impression, then the family might not live to see another generation.
absolutely confusing is what you think now. who are they inviting later anyway?
the hallways are even busy as well, and as you step in the grand hall, although not really grand, the chaos is what you expected. you see your mother in the middle of it, servants usher to her, asking where to place this and that, where should the main table be placed, and if they should inquire for more cutlery since the silver they have doesn’t fit for the amount of people coming tonight. your mother answers them all with quickness and patience. and her eyes land on you at the very moment you’re about to leave. a single gesture of her finger makes you stop as you come towards her with reluctance.
the servants around her disperse once you finally stand before her. your mother suddenly has the look of worry and nervousness you can’t quite understand why.
“i need you at your best tonight.” she stresses, and you cannot argue with her seeing the seriousness etched across her face. “tonight will be an important shift for our house- for this family. your father talked about this a million times so i need you to be prim and proper, and help your siblings be ready.”
you’re about to ask why, but she cuts you off.
“you are my most established child, girl. i need your help with this because i am this close to slapping your brothers for not taking my words seriously. do you understand?” your mother’s tone grows desperate, and you blink dumbly and nod.
“…may i ask who’s coming, mother?” you finally uttered out your impending question. your mother had the audacity to look at you like some fool, as if they didn’t tell you about who the important guests are.
“the princes of house targaryen, child!”
ah. you now know why this feast seems such a chaotic shithole now.
・゜゜・．
“ow!” your little sister winces in pain as you tie her hair into a neat updo. she winces again when you finally place the hairpin in her updo to secure it at last.
“hold still or i’ll ruin your hair. mother needs us in the hall after this.” you say plainly as you step away to take a good look at your doing. your sister huffs as she pouts.
“will i be able to go to bed before midnight after this?” she asks, and you shrug.
“possibly.” you say with a tease, knowing about her little ritual she wants to do.
“it’s no fair! i don’t want to go! i thought mother said this dinner was for old people!” you roll your eyes as she crosses her arms.
“old you say, huh?” you mumble as you gesture to her to stand up. she reluctantly stands with a pout and frowns as she follows you outside of the bedchamber. you carefully fluff up the sleeves and skirt of your gown while your sister tails behind you. you two finally head in the hall, and are stunned to see how… marvelous the once grey hall it was. candles… beeswax, not tallow, are everywhere. making the hall look warm while the food is already sitting on the long tables, enticing and delicious. it’s roasted ribs and you can smell spice that you never smelled before. possibly imported from essos. new silverware you can tell are placed neatly, and the seats are polished.
you wonder how much coin was spent to make this feast possible.
your father and mother are already briefing your older brothers, which seems to be more serious than what your mother said to you earlier. you usher your sister and told her to stop pouting as your mother released a sigh of relief seeing you.
“thank the sevens you two are here now!” she exclaimed loudly. “see! your sister knows how to dress herself, while you three buffoons can’t even tell what colors don't go together!”
your older brothers rolled their eyes as you patiently waited for further instructions from your parents.
“this feast is important. proper appearances are a must, we are welcoming royals into our home. princes! the hand of the king at that!” your father blabbered as he tells you all about what it means to have a direct alliance with the crown itself. and he hopes tonight and the days they’ll be staying will be fruitful. for they will take a look at the prosperous town your father has been keeping steady, and the port that’s been the main interest. for it’s easier access of trade routes to dorne and the nearer lands of essos.
and now you all stand in the courtyard, lined up as you hear the trumpet blaring loudly as hooves of horses are heard arriving. you see your father inhale sharply as you spot the banner of house targaryen between the arriving people on horses. it’s intimidating, you confess to yourself, seeing how much a banner could install a sense of unease in all of you. you can see the black armour of their soldiers and two white ones with capes, the kingsguard. and then finally, you see the familiar face of the young prince baelor. the oldest of the princes come into view. he’s handsome, short dark curls rest on his head. not of silver which made him the unique one.
the stewart announces him as prince baelor stops his horse with ease before mounting off. the stable men react quickly to guide the horse to stables. the stewart then announced the name of prince aerys, who’s long silver hair catches your eyes. a complete opposite of his older brother. prince baelor was the first to greet your father with a smile and firm handshake as your father greeted him with the same enthusiasm. the stewart then announces the final name of the last prince to arrive.
prince maekar. the youngest of the brothers.
his white stallion is a beauty as he effortlessly guides it to a halt, then dismounts with ease. his hair was of silver as well, like his other brother, but cut to his shoulders with short bangs on his forehead, making him look younger. handsome as well. your eyes caught his the moment he stepped forward to join his two brothers to greet your father. from the way he held himself, you can clearly see the swagger and cockiness. your gaze tears away from his, feeling like you’ve been caught.
“it’s a pleasure to be welcomed, i assure you.” prince baelor spoke to your father as he then introduced all of you to the princes. you did your courtesy flawlessly while you greeted each prince formally like what you were taught. you glance again to prince maekar, only to see him with a faint scowl on his face while he mutters something to prince aerys, indicating he might be tired from the journey or something else. your first impression of him is how he doesn’t hide his expression like most people with his status do.
you don’t know if that’s good to you or disrespectful- in the sense that they are the ones who came here. and with some decency, he can show his gratitude in some way without looking like he doesn’t want to be here.
and as you take a good look at the three princes, their black coats laced with hints of red make them intimidating as it is. the rawness of power is evident, and you see your brothers are staring as well. like children who’ve seen a prince for the first time. you quickly gesture for them to stop it as all of you finally head inside.
and you think this feast will be interesting.
・゜゜・．
the feast goes smoothly as expected. the remaining guests invited have already filled the hall. from the wealthy merchants alike in the town and notable high figures that are close to your father. you are seated between your mother and little sister, quietly enjoying your meal and wine as lively music and chatter fills in the room. you can see your father beside prince baelor, engrossed in a conversation that looks promising. the other princes are quietly enjoying their meals as well. you wonder why the other two are here, considering prince baelor seems to be the one who’s been doing all the diplomatic chatter.
“why do they have ashen hair, sister?” your little sister whispered beside you, staring at both prince aerys and maekar across the table. you don’t blame her for her wonder and curiosity.
“that is the hair they are born with.” you tell her plainly, and your mother shushes the two of you with a glance. you both shut up as your sister pokes the roasted potato on her plate with boredom.
“i want to go to my room now. when can i?” your sister whines, and you shake your head. she pouts again, and you ignore her as you glance back where your father is talking with prince baelor.
your father is boasting loudly like the merry man he is, cracking jokes while he sips his pint. the surrounding men laugh loudly at him. prince baelor seems oddly amused, you wonder if it’s for pleasantries or he actually likes your father’s jokes and stories. you then cast your gaze to the other two princes by his side. prince aerys seems to be reading something… which was peculiar, and the younger prince seems to be in a fouler mood. maekar empties his cup as he looks around for the wine bearer.
and what comes next solidifies the inkling impression you have on him.
“pour me some wine, would you?” maekar suddenly looks at your father who stops mid laugh and scrambles to grasp the pitcher near him. your father is already tipsy as he is, and your brows furrow seeing the young prince hold his goblet out like your father is one of his servants. everyone is still drunkenly laughing, unaware of the certain shift as your father poured him some wine shakily, and some spills.
“so sorry, my prince. there we go now!” your father gives off an awkward laugh. prince maekar holds his gaze, not a word comes out of his lips as he sips his wine. your father awkwardly turns back to his seat, and you watch the whole thing with embarrassment and anger coursing through your veins.
a call of your names eases you back slowly.
“straighten your face and eat your meal, girl.” your mother whispers calmly like she didn’t just see that as well, and you look at her with disbelief.
“mother, but-“
“do not. please. not tonight, and not when their graces are here.” she stresses, and you see the crack in her stern expression for a moment. your brows furrowed as you looked back at where the princes and father were. prince baelor seems to not interfere with the situation as he looks at his younger brother with only a stern look before your father finally sits down. prince maekar merely ignores his brother as he sips his wine, and then…
he somehow finds yours amidst the crowd.
again.
you hold his gaze longer than before.
you don’t know why, but an arising feeling of challenge replaces your anger for a moment. the prince’s expression is unreadable, and you cannot help but feel intimidated despite your own feelings. but the sound of your father laughing loudly finally makes the both of you look away from each other. and you finally exhale the breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding.
you’re now dreading the days you’ll be spending time with them- with him. and you keep that in mind as your sister whines again.
“can i go to bed now, please?”
・゜゜・．
the pressure of housing royals under your roof has been the dire effect of what you call a… crisis that’s happening in your own home. you’ve noticed it since the day after they arrived. it was subtle for the staff, like there’s this tension going around when you walk in the hallways. murmurs and whispers instead of the usual loud banter became the sudden norm. sometimes people were too afraid to even pass by the princes’ quarters. like there’s a plague infesting, and you felt like you’re in a different place rather than comfort. a place where you have to watch your every step or else one mistake would cost you.
seeing your parents, on the other hand, be like nervous fools in their own home was awful. never had you seen them this frantic and desperate, almost like pigs vying for food to their slaughterer. your father was always the butting end to the endless requests the princes have been making. your family’s tower was small compared to the great houses, big enough to hold a great hall and such, but other commodities weren’t present. you guessed the princes were unfamiliar to the functions which you grew to see as normal. and now they demand for more just to feel comfortable? it was humiliating, but it was reality.
you hate it. you hate the sudden change, the sudden bow of your heads just to house these tyrants. as much as you want to rant your hatred and distaste for the targaryens, you know well enough to keep it to yourself so as to not be charged with treason. and the boiling point of your hatred was majorly directed to one prince in particular.
prince maekar’s presence didn’t take long to be noticed.
unlike his older brother’s pacifistic and diplomatic personality, and his other one’s more of a quiet type, he was ruthless. ruthless in a way that he doesn’t care what people think of when he acts in a brash and aggressive manner. like he expects people to cower beneath his scowl and sharp tongue. the staff feared passing prince maekar’s room more than his older brothers. you’ve seen him spit fire like the dragon that he is.
fucking targaryens.
it happened in the courtyard, wherein you happened to stumble upon him sparring with one of your brothers. you didn’t hear everything, but you can surely make out the sudden animosity your brother had let out when the ashen haired prince smirked like a wolf after saying something that triggered your poor brother. his grin was cocky, almost to the point he was enjoying making people around him uncomfortable. your other brothers had to hold him down to avoid him delivering a blow to the arrogant prince. and no one spoke about that incident the day after… just quiet ignorance.
you’ve learned to avoid him to not end up bursting out like your brother… in subtle ways.
and maybe you liked the reactions you get out of him, the ones you get to notice with your little rebellion with him that he isn’t aware of.
until now… of course.
it was a fleeting moment that happened a while ago. you were going into the library or your father’s study room, and so happened prince baelor was in there, looking around as well. while prince maekar was sat on the far end, blabbering about to his brother with nonsense you didn’t care to hear. although you did hear some bits and pieces before you came in.
“why must i come with you to the docks? the blasted fish smell reeks so much.” maekar grumbles while baelor looks at him pointedly.
“it will do you well to know what goes on there, little brother.”
“i joined you to come to this miserable place on father’s command, must you torture me further?” you roll your eyes at that.
“aerys says the seaside looks promising. aerys is coming with me, can you imagine that? and you’re not?” baelor teases as you wait for a moment to join in, just wanting to return the book you borrowed.
maekar was about to retort until you opened the door, cutting him off. your presence is immediately noticed as you feel maekar’s eyes dart towards you.
“good afternoon, my prince.” you greeted as always, and the charming prince baelor smiled at you and noticed the book you were holding. “apologies, for the intrusion. i hope i wasn’t interrupting anything-?”
“not all, my lady. please, go ahead. this is your home, after all. we’re the intruders here.” the dark haired prince smiled. you nod kindly as you look for the shelf where the book was placed. you can feel the other prince’s gaze burn through you, expecting a greeting from you as well. but you don’t give in until he shifts in his seat and stands up all of the sudden.
and there you greet him with a faux surprised expression.
“oh! your grace. i did not notice you were here as well.” you smiled at him with a sweet and high pitched tone. maekar’s jaw tightened as he merely nodded at you.
“you have to forgive my brother. it seems he has lost his voice somewhere.” baelor interjected, sensing something as he looked at his younger brother with an expecting expression. you look back at maekar, expecting the greeting as well. and you want to laugh seeing his ears turn red.
“my lady.” maekar grits his teeth. you smiled back at him mockingly.
“good read, my lady?” baelor takes over the conversation, gesturing to your book you’re placing back as you turn away from maekar. pouring all your attention to him.
“not my cup of tea, i’m afraid. i was merely curious about these epics about knights and such.” you blabbered, which was true in a sense. “i’ve read my father’s whole shelf now, and ended up with this.”
baelor chuckles. “not fond of knightly tales of bravery and honor?”
“perhaps when romance is involved, your grace.” you laugh, putting the book back in.
“ah, so you favor softer tales of courtship, stolen glances, and the gist of it all?”
“something of the sort.” you grinned. “reading about a knight's longing for his unreachable princess is far more interesting.”
baelor eyes you with intrigue. you don’t lie to yourself how handsome the older prince is. but the seeding thought of them indeed being intruders in your home makes you think what he really is behind closed doors. and for how he lets his youngest brother behave like that and such, you don’t expect much from him either. after all, them coming here was an act itself. just to gain your father’s and townsfolk’s favors to spread their image.
“is that so?”
“i think so, my prince.” you say sweetly. “honor is admirable, of course. longing, on the other hand, is more entertaining to see how a knight grapples with his conflict of preserving his honor or admit his love for a woman he’s sworn to protect. don’t you think so, your grace?”
a scoff interrupts the both of you. and you don’t need to know who it came from.
“entertaining?” maekar questions. “you speak as if it were a game to see a man be a fool.”
oh. you blink, and turn around slowly to face him. as if you remember his existence now.
“is it not, your grace?” you finally spoke back.
“a fool’s game it is.” he strongly says. “fantasy destroys reality, no true knight would be weak for a woman to break his oath.”
you look at him pointedly.
“how fortunate for a true knight to never be tempted, then.” your tone drips with honey. a small pause settles between the two of you as his light eyes stare back at yours.
“though, i fear-“ your smile sharpens, like a bee’s sting. “he would make such a simple story.”
an uncomfortable silence follows behind your words. you don’t break your gaze from the scowling prince until he exhales loudly that your smile deepens.
“you think of yourself as very clever, my lady.” he spits those words out like he’s forcing himself not to say anything else.
“only when i am given something to read into, your grace.” you hum lightly. his eyes narrow, catching on.
“and what is it that you’ve read from me?” he challenges.
you’ve snared him now.
“very little.” you reply almost instantly. “though, it leaves much more for intrigue, my prince.”
his scowl almost falters but he doesn’t look away. in fact, his gaze sends a chill down your spine. but a quiet laugh from baelor breaks the tension. you shyly turn away, feeling you’ve done enough now to get on his brother’s nerves.
“well…” baelor huffs out, glancing between the two of you. “i had not expected a debate on tales to turn something far more… spirited.”
you take a step back, smoothing your dress as if nothing happened at all.
“apologies, your grace.” you turn to baelor with an easy smile to ease your own tension. “i did not mean to liven your afternoon at your grace’s expense.”
maekar then lets out a humorless breath, making your brow twitch for a moment.
“you’ve done quite enough.” he mutters.
you dip your head politely, but the sharpness in your gaze remains.
“i shall take my leave now, your graces. thank you for your time.” you curtsied gracefully before moving past them swiftly. but you feel it, his gaze burning holes through your back. you finally leave, still feeling his gaze lingering- sharp and strong. the beat of your heart is the only thing you feel when you walk away with a shaky exhale.
・゜゜・．
“i like her.”
baelor says to his brother who’s scowling beside him as the sea breeze sweeps past them. aerys cocks a brow, wondering what his older brother is pertaining to all of the sudden. maekar, though, feels a rush of blood course through his veins. he knows exactly who his brother is talking about.
“your taste in women is unearthing.” he mumbles and his older brother grins as they lean against the wooden railing.
“not in that way, brother.” baelor says as maekar rolls his eyes. “the lord’s daughter is an educated girl with peculiar opinions.”
“the older one?” aerys asked as maekar grumbles.
“aye.”
“i suppose you’re right.” aerys suddenly agrees, which maekar cocks a brow at that. “our conversations in the library were enlightening. smart girl that she is.”
“enlightening.” he repeats flatly, remembering your little spit at him the other day. the way your smile pierced through him as he resist the urge to wipe it off. baelor merely chuckles, amused and unbothered. aerys watches him with veil amusement, wondering what happened.
“she speaks her mind freely. it’s refreshing.” the dark haired man continues. “not many would dare to do so in front of us.”
“more like a hindrance that she manages to do so. a lack of restraint for a lady like her.” he spits out. the way you looked at him, like asking for a challenge, has him feeling relentless these days. the way you only seem to direct your attacks on him while you give this innocent act in front of his brothers. it infuriates him yet at the same time… he can’t help but not think of you, which added to his misery.
“is it?” aerys chuckles. “or simply honesty, little brother?”
he does not answer his older brother for that. his jaw tightens. honesty? if that were true, then why did your words feel so deliberate? his fingers curl against the wooden railing, and a sound of a squawking seagull passes by.
how fortunate for a true knight to never be tempted, then.
the way your lips sharpened, the memory returns unbidden. how you cocked your head to the side, and the way your voice sounded so sweet despite its sharpness. and the way you looked at him- like you’ve already decided what sort of man he is.
his grip tightens, the wood almost bruising him.
he would make such a simple story.
simple, huh? his muscle ticks in his jaw.
“she provokes. unlady-like of her.” he mutters at last.
“but you allow it.” baelor hums thoughtfully. “and i’m surprised she didn’t cower away like they usually do with you.”
maekar glares at him. “i do no such thing.”
“did you not?” baelor’s smile widens. “you took every word she said.”
“that was not-“ maekar grumbles. “i was merely expressing my opinion as well! she speaks nonsense. this romantic preference over knightly honors was idiotic to compare-“
“and yet…” aerys interrupts him. “you remember every word she said.”
maekar grunts, embarrassed.
“our brother seems to be ensnared.” baelor adds as both older men chuckled. “this is good for you. a woman who can finally challenge that temper of yours.”
“gods know we need someone to finally tame you.” aerys mumbles while maekar glares at him.
he does not like you one bit! he knows that, but his brothers seem to have other ideas. conflicting as he is, you are a beautiful maiden. too beautiful in fact that he seethes in anger remembering your attitude towards him. you’re a temptress, that’s what you are. drawing him into madness since the day you laid eyes on him in that courtyard.
“i need a fucking drink. and fuck the two of you.” he finally breathes out while his brothers chuckle loudly as they agree on getting a drink.
the thought of you lingers in his mind… and he can’t help but indulge that he’ll be the one to tame you.
not him that will be tamed.
・゜゜・．
“why didn’t the ritual work, sister?” your sister pouts as you brush her hair. you purse your lips, thinking of what to say- or what to say again. since she has been pouting the past few days telling you that little mirror ritual she did never worked.
“i do not know as well.” you merely say as she pouts even further. she has been complaining that she didn’t see anyone in the mirror other than her own reflection. you blame whoever told her of this ‘ritual’ to get her hopes up.
“i won’t ever marry, won’t i?” she frowns, and you kiss the side of her head to soothe her disappointment. “mother said marriage is the most important thing to achieve when i grow up.”
you want to roll your eyes, but you resist the urge to do so. you can see your little sister do much more than marry as her end goal, it pains you that she’s subjected to this tradition like you are roped into as well. your mother’s insistence on pushing you to court has been a debate that’s not been settled between the two of you. you’re grateful your brothers are betrothed which shifted your mother’s attention to them as of lately.
“get some rest and put that pout away, okay?” you say softly as you put the hairbrush down. she silently nods as you kiss the top of her head again and guide her to her bed at the other side. you tuck her in, quietly telling her to dream sweetly. she eventually drifts off as you busy yourself unwinding for the day.
the princes were finally leaving in a few days. the wide smile on both of your parents’ faces indicated that this visit was a success. you can’t help but think about the occurrences that happened as of lately. it… bothers you more than you can admit.
prince maekar kept his distance, and you did as well. it’s what you wanted in the first place. although it bothered you how much you’ve been seeing him since that little incident in your father’s study. somehow you always bump into him in awkward times. and in those times, only greetings were exchanged and nothing more. but the hardest part was why were you so fixated on it?
sure, you may have grown amused in your treatment towards him. you still thought of him as the arrogant man that acts like a child when someone finally challenges him. the lingering glances may be the reason… you think. he never was the one to break his stare at first, and you happen to be the one who always looks away. you sigh, grabbing your candle to go back to your own room before a sudden clang outside makes you jump.
“what in the seven hells-“ you muttered, quietly opening the door. your head peeks out and you’re met with the most hilarious sight.
“for f-fuck *hiccup*… where the hell…” prince maekar stumbles, knocking off one of the candle holders as he mutters where his room is. you raise a brow and scowl. what an annoying thing he is to disturb the peace in front of the room while your sister is sleeping. you wait for a moment, hesitant whether to step outside or to let him pass. he seems to slump against the wall, and you took the courage to leave your sister’s room. you hold your robe tightly against your chest as you try to walk past him.
“is someone there? help me! i can’t find my room-“ you don’t know why you didn’t just walk away. maybe it was his tone, his pompous fucking tone that he demands someone to help his idiotic self.
“fucking miserable place this is-“ you turn around, walking over to him as maekar’s head sprung up at the sudden warm light encompassing the dark hallway.
“your grace. your quarters are on the other side.” you say quietly, and the man blinked dumbly as he squinted to adjust his vision to the candlelight. his drunken self seemed to recognize you now as he scowled.
“you…” he drunkenly whispered. “you… you can fuck off.”
your brows furrow. did he just-
“as you wish, my prince. idiot…” you roll your eyes as you step away. maekar suddenly becomes acutely aware that you’re leaving him as he grips your wrist all of the sudden.
“w-wait!” he hiccups, and you stood still. glancing at his warm hand wrapped around your wrist. didn’t tell you to go away? you blame the stench of wine and mead on him which makes your nose crinkle. his slumped form suddenly straightens, and he looks down at you with glassy eyes. an uncomfortable feeling settles in your chest, seeing how tall he is.
“let go of me.” you whisper, a bit shakily. he immediately complies and he runs a hand over his face. as if… as if he’s conflicted with something as he stares at you.
“what the fuck did i do to make you like this to me, woman?” he suddenly asks, drunken mind spewing out his thoughts. his bangs are more swept away than his usual well-kept form. his silver hair shines against your candlelight… he looks pathetic. handsomely pathetic as you swallow in the heat trapped in your stomach.
but you scoff. “that is your concern?”
“fucking hell… yes!” he says, almost a whine. “i-i have done nothing! nothing! i am a guest in your home! and you- you treat me like i’m a pest other than my brothers!” he spews out as he angrily rakes his hand through his hair, making him more unwild.
“maybe you are a pest, your grace.” you snapped, stepping closer to him. “you come here with the attitude of a spoiled prince, which you are.”
his jaw tightened. “you know nothing of me to warrant that observation.”
“oh, you’ve given me plenty enough, my prince.” you whispered as you looked into his eyes. “you are a self-pompous, arrogant, spoiled, selfish, and brash man who knows nothing of manners! you treat everyone here as your servant when, yes, you are a guest in my home! but you are not in your fucking castle-“
he defends himself. he did not treat you that way. he is sure of it. “i have done nothing to you-“
“you have!” you seethe in anger as he blinks dumbly at your outburst. “my father welcomed you with open arms, and the treatment he gets is like a servant.”
“that-“ he tries to say. “that… that was nothing. he is the host-“
“it means something to me. and all i could see was a spoiled prince who doesn’t know how to ask- but only demand.” you finished, feeling your whole body warm from that. and he stands there… silent. as if you’re the first one to tell him that- and it may as well be true. but when you look into his eyes again, you feel a chill run down your spine. his gaze is half-lidded, warranted with this- want.
huh.
your cheeks heat up, and maekar stares back at you.
“i know.” he finally whispers back. his gaze swept from your fresh face illuminated by the candlelight down to your exposed neck that makes him imagine things that he fought hard not to think of every night. “tell me… tell me how i can make it up to you, then.”
“what?” your eyes widened.
“tell me… my lady, tell me how to make amends for you.” he almost begs, and you don't know what the hell he’s talking about.
“you are insufferable.” you say, wanting to step away but he suddenly moves forward. you take a step back until the wall behind you hits your back.
“you are as well.” he chuckles. “and yet you keep finding your way to me.”
oh. you want to retort back, but his looming presence as he leans over, makes you stand still as you wait for his next move. but he doesn’t do anything but stand still, patiently waiting as you look at him through your lashes. for a drunkard, he sure knows how to control himself. the beating of your heart thumps loudly against your chest. his scowl was long gone, his gaze softer than before, it makes you want to-
no! you say to yourself. you hate him! you hate him so much! but why are you thinking of kissing him everytime-
“tell me… please.” he breathes out, and your mind goes blank.
you let the candle you’re holding drop to the ground as you surge forward, gripping his cheeks with your hands as you kiss him. his lips taste like wine and you devour it. maekar is now the one who stays still. his head is all buzzed and dizzy, and the soft register of your lips on his own makes him reel back in as he grips your waist. he kisses you back with the same ferocity, thinking this must be a dream. you clumsily kiss him harder, liking the way his hands hold you as he moans in your mouth.
he feels like he’s been put in a spell. a fucking confusing one because he doesn’t know how the hell you managed to make him this vulnerable. he’s gone, he’s completely gone and utterly destroyed. you finally pull back, having to take a breath. a string of saliva connects the two of you as you let out a tiny sigh. the man in front of you looks more pathetic as he stares at your glistening lips. your eyes stare back as well then going lower… and-
the evident bulge in his trousers makes your pupils darken. you can feel your own arousal pulse, but reality starts sinking as you’re now aware both of you are in the hallway and anyone could see the two of you in this state. you push him away all of the sudden, and he stumbles back, confused and more drunk. you’re about to break the silence, but he beats you first.
“f-forgive me.” he merely says. “i’m drunk- fuck, i’m drunk. but please forgive me, my lady.” he mutters, reaching gently to grasp your hand. your breathing doesn’t simmer down as you let him take your hand. he pulls up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. “please say you forgive me.”
“no.” you lie. you pull your hand away, and that makes him stumble forward as you finally rush to get to your room.
maekar slumps against the stone wall. he sits down, feeling infuriated with desire as he touches his lips. he remembers the softness of it and your taste… but then you pull away, going back to square one. he scowls, he wants you so much but you had to make it difficult. thoughts run through his almost sober mind… he’ll get back to you. if you don’t want his forgiveness then he’ll play your little game. he’ll have revenge, he’ll have you in this state you’ve left him as well.
・゜゜・．
the days after were suffocating.
you avoided maekar completely. you stayed in your room more than you normally did. yet the sensation of his lips on yours still lingers. it tears you apart that the man you seem to now want is the same man you thought of lowly. it irritates you, and yet… you don’t even want to think about it. it only makes you mad and… ugh!
you put your book down, getting off your bed as you try to walk it off. trying to get rid of this feeling, this feeling you aren’t supposed to feel for him. never you had a man tick the inside of your brain this much- let alone a pompous prick of a prince. but it was no matter, he’s leaving in a day. and all will be back to normal.
although…
you don’t know why it makes you frown. him. leaving. after all that. you have to admit… he’s the first man that intrigued you despite his sloppy attitude. maybe that was why… maybe he managed to spark something in you that never came until now. and now you expect more, more than just some kiss you know he’ll forget. his drunken ass.
maybe he does this thing to every woman he comes across, you suddenly think, and maybe you’re one of the unfortunate victims.
a knock and opening of your door pulls you out of your anger all of the sudden.
“yes?” you breathe out.
“father wants to see you. says he needs to talk to you… at this instant.” your brother says, and you’re frazzled. you only comply, following him to your father’s study, worried what this is about. when you enter, your father is sitting in his study with a joyful expression, as if he was told something even more profound than having a direct alliance with the crown. your mother sits on the chair in front of him, also looking ecstatic.
“ah! there you are!” your father jumps up, ushering you to come in. you hesitate until your mother practically leaps up from her seat to pull you down to sit instead.
“i am so proud of you.” your mother tells you all of the sudden. you raise a brow, confused.
“i don’t how you did it, my girl. i am already pleased with the business we have with their graces, but this… you did a good job.” your father now praises you. you sit there, dumbfounded, wondering what this is about. did you won a tourney or something without knowing-
“i… thank you?” you finally say. both your parents smiled widely.
“i knew my daughter would one day become a princess.” your mother says, and your blood turns cold.
what?
“pardon?” you blink.
“of course, my love. prince maekar chose exceptionally well! he knew our daughter’s worth.” your father says and you want to run. “he asked permission from us to court you, saying you two have been spending quite a lot of time together. i am sure within weeks he’ll ask for your hand!”
a vein almost pops in your head, but the feeling in your chest says otherwise. that cunning piece of shit-
“huh.” you don’t know what to say, if you tell them the truth, you don’t want them to be upset. you don’t want a whole argument to turn into who’s telling the truth, because what the hell was that man thinking?
why? is your next question in your head. what is he doing? you don't know what the hell he’s getting out of this- you really don’t know. both of you ignore each other that night, and now this?
was he plotting against you? just for fun?
you want to scream, but you smiled. forced a smile as your parents praise you indefinitely.
this was not over.
・゜゜・．
maekar feels smug… smug that he’s managed to grin today. tomorrow he’ll leave, and never speak to you about what he told your parents. it was something out of the whim that he told your father that. as childish as it was, he was hoping you’d take the bait. but it seems your distance grows further. he rarely sees you the days after that night.
and it was killing him.
laughable it was, he doesn’t expect that you’re now this close to being snared in his trap.
like right now.
you were livid, finally cornering him that night. you secretly waited, just enough to corner him in the stairs at the dead of night. this time you had no plan, no motive, nothing- but to just… strangle him if you could. and this is how maekar ends up pressed against the wall in the spiral stairs with you pushing your finger on his chest.
“you are a lunatic!” you try not to yell as the prince smirked. “how- how could you say that to my father? are you mad?”
“watch your tone, m’lady.” he merely says, mocking you. your eyes widened as you don’t know what else to say. “i bet you liked it, didn’t you? you kissed me first from what i remember-“
“shut up!” you cut him off, cheeks warm, and there he looks at you fondly, and you deliver the final blow, hoping it would gain a reaction from him.
“i hate you.”
silence. only the wind outside can be heard. maekar’s jaw tightened as he looked at you, his hand came up to cup your jaw… and you let him. he smirks, shaking his head.
“i know you do.” he whispers and all hell breaks loose. he surges forward to capture your lips, and it felt damn better than that night he was drunk. you pull his collar forward, deepening the kiss as your mind goes blank. you moan between kisses when his hands grasp your hips.
it was all a blur, your hands went to his trousers, untying them. he followed your every move as you pushed him to sit on the stairs. his hands grasped your hips then reached up your skirt, looking for your drawers to pull down. you slap his hand away, still angry as you push them off.
“you said you wish to court me, right? marry me?” you breathe out as he pulls his trousers down, his arousal evident as it springs out. you look down at his cock, all thick and hard, the wetness in your center annoys you. maekar dumbly blinks but nods at the same time.
“i hate you. so this is your way of forgiveness.” you say sweetly as you grip his chin. “or else i’ll tell everybody how you soiled me then left the next day.”
he laughs as you grip his cock, and you’re not entirely sure what you’re doing as you grip it before hovering over his exposed lap. maekar watches seeing you fumble until he gently guides you. his fingers brushed against your entrance, and he made a pleased noise feeling your wetness. all for him. you shudder at his ministrations until he gripped and pressed himself against your entrance. you sink down, welcoming him, but it stung, making you place your hands on his chest to keep you steady.
“easy now.” he whispers. “slowly.”
you nod as you slowly take him in, fighting the burn as your warm walls welcome him.
“fucking-“ he groans out when he’s deep in you. you let out a whine as you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting to his size. after a couple of minutes, you begin to move, a little clumsy but you grind your hips, feeling the pleasure like no other. it was all so new, and you can’t wrap your head around the idea that this is wrong.
what the fuck are you two doing?
you want to cry out as maekar lets you set the pace, but he leans forward, kissing your exposed neck as he pulls the strings of your top to reveal your chemise. he pulls it down, kissing your exposed breasts. you grind against him as his hips matched your pace. you moan out, the new sensation making you dizzy as he lets out a few groans of his. your hands went to his hair, and you pull him forward for another kiss.
“i hate you.” you mumble between his lips, grinding harder, feeling like you’re close to something. his hand comes down to bully your clit which makes you whine loudly.
“i hate you.” you repeat again, and he chuckles before pounding upwards to chase the impending release you’re both having.
“i hate you!” you grip the back of his neck when you feel yourself coming, and he sighs out as your walls clenched around him. he moans out, loving every second of it as his own release follows after. he cums deep inside you, and fuck does it feel so good and so wrong.
the gentle high dies down, and you slump against his form while he lays back on the stairs. he looks at you, softly this time. you look back at him as he merely grins.
“am i forgiven?”
・゜゜・．
“i really do hate you, you idiot.”
it’s the first time in six years since you said you hate him again. maekar looks at you fondly as he wipes your stray tears. you carry your little aerion in your arms while daeron grips your dress below, staring silently at the two of you. you hate to see him go this moment, when you’re not sure he’ll come back to you alive and you don’t know what to do with that thought. he was commanded to lead the siege near king’s landing, and you didn’t like the idea of your husband so close to the rebellion. but duty was duty. he needed to go and join his brother.
“i love you.” you say finally, kissing his lips one last time. “come back to me- to us.”
“i love you as well.” he utters softly, and you’re reeled back in the past the first time he said that after the incident you two caused back in your hometown.
“come back or i’ll never forgive you.” you warn him, the nostalgic feeling makes him chuckle as he kisses the head of aerion and bends down to daeron, muttering to your little boy to take care of you when he’s away.
“i know. when haven’t i made amends for you?” he grins, and you can still see that boyish grin of the pompous prince you grew to hate… then love back then.
Can you please write a headcannons where Maekar is in an arramged marriage with a younger second wife who is very beautiful and gets a lot of male attention.
a/n: he’s a jelly-man, your honor. i rest my case.
maekar and his popular wife headcanons ˚｡⋆
he’s possessive that’s for sure. and a jealous man.
because why are people staring at his wife? he should only be the one who gets to look at you, but he doesn’t say that out loud.
before you two were married, you had been already the talk amongst the nobles. your beauty, as they described, were said to be the gift from the gods. that it shouldn’t be that hard for you to find a possible suitor, a son of a lord from one the great houses possibly. and they were right-
you did get a proposal- from a prince of house targaryen. though, your family expected one of prince baelor’s or his younger brothers’ sons. yet it was from the widowed prince maekar’s request for your hand.
but… the fact that it was not directly prince maekar’s word that betrothed you to him. the king, his father, alongside the small council decided that for him. and the reason? appearances, he concluded. but he did not need to wed again, he handled his children well enough after dyanna died… he can’t see himself marrying again, and he’s absolutely furious. but he complied, no less.
of course your family would accept his proposal.
when you first met him, he was intimidating as expected. he paid no attention to you at first, only a chaste greeting and kiss on your knuckles. the different eyes staring at you both made you unnerved that you wanted to hide away.
maekar did not lie to himself that the talks of your beauty and grace were real. everyone seem to want to catch a glimpse of you when you arrived in the red keep. but that didn’t change his view of not wanting to remarry, he merely tolerated you.
he was glad both of you seem to agree to not pressure yourselves in continuing to talk one another in private, away from prying eyes. you were slightly disappointed that he did not seem to notice or pay mind to you at least. but you reminded yourself that this marriage wasn’t your say in the first place. and that breaks your heart.
when the wedding came, maekar was annoyed at the amount of people who wanted to witness this union. he was so upset that you could tell he was seething as he glared at the people who gave their thanks and support to you both. you guessed he didn’t like being the center of attention… but he married you.
not only was he pissed off with the amount of people that attended, he’s vaguely aware of his growing anger seeing men alike go forward to compliment you in front him. a sudden wave of jealousy flew over him that these disgusting men, some married, had the audacity to talk to his wife like they wanted a piece of you.
the anticipating wedding night soon came. you could already tell maekar was not liking every second of it based on his scowl. but the bedding ceremony was to be done, unfortunately.
hands pushed you inside, men alike seem to want put a hand you and others carried you after the banquet. the women pulled maekar with giggles as he watches you being carried to his private chambers. the chants of “to bed, to bed, to bed” made you nervous as you’re suddenly face to face with maekar in the bedroom.
it’s silent at last as the doors closed. you’re left in your undergarments, a sheer chemise, and maekar in his loose drawers. you stare at each other for a beat, there’s a tension that you can’t quite place.
he stares at you, assessing your form, the thought of those men undressing you sets a flame within him as his jaw tightens at the thought of it. you too observe him, seeing that scowl on his face still made you feel disappointed.
he suddenly took the first step forward towards you. you stay still, watching his every movement. he’s handsome, you think, staring at his broad chest that’s full of scars. and those shoulders you guess were sculpted from the amount of times he swung his weapon. a true warrior.
you blink back to reality when his fingers grasp your chin. you’re met with the most striking blueish-violet eyes that seem to wander from your eyes to your lips, then to your body.
“husband…” you utter out, a little confused if he wanted to continue this. “it is fine if we don’t… don’t- uhm, tonight.”
“they can’t keep their filthy hands off you.” he muttered, still fuming at the thought. “they just can’t stop staring at you, did you know? i should have their eyes and cut their cocks out for that.”
you’re taken aback at his possessive and cruel words. you blink, dumbfounded. maekar leans outwards, and sighs. “dress yourself and get some sleep, i will sleep in the other chamber for tonight.”
you rush to stop him, grabbing his wrist. for all the times he was indifferent to you, and suddenly saying those words now- you did not want him to go.
you kind of liked it he’s showing this new side of him.
“please… stay here.” you utter out. maekar’s eyes widened slightly. he lets you pull him towards the bed as you sit him down. “do you… do you still want to do this, husband?”
he’s now the dumbfounded one. he can’t help but wait and see what you’ll do as you take his subtle nod as a yes. you lean forward, kissing him. a primal urge takes him over as he kisses you back, his hands grab your waist, pulling you forward, and settling you on his lap. like he wanted to erase the way those filthy men who dared to lay their hands and eyes on you when you’re his. you’re now his.
after that, you can say your marriage with the scowling prince went… well. and the fact that men and others alike finally stirred away when they know your husband is just lurking behind you.
he’s like a direwolf stalking behind its master. except you have a dragon that’s lurking behind you. ready to spew fire whoever dares to be bold with you.
i imagine people would scurry away from wanting to talk to you because of his sharp gaze and his infamous scowl. lol.
sometimes, male servants and the knights would be too nervous to even utter a greeting to you because of this.
but sometimes he’ll get insecure, thinking you deserve better than big old him. and you remind him that you grew to love each other despite your marriage being arranged.
in the end, i fear maekar would be so smug in the inside when you’re by his side. people would look, and they can only look. he’s the one who gets you all to himself, anyway.
SUMMARY -> they say when someone has already had their first love, you must accept that you will always be second. but where does that acceptance go when you’re suffering in the shadow of the crown prince’s first wife? especially with how indifferent he is with you since the very start of your betrothal… maybe the small key hidden beneath his hand is the answer?
baelor targaryen x wife!reader
GENRE -> angst
WARNINGS -> not proof-read, inspired by the small key by paz latorena, arranged marriage, unrequited love-ish but not really, baelor is kinda an ass here but he’s still a gentleman, toxic?? relationship, emotional & hysterical breakdown, miscommunication, suggestive themes, emotional exhaustion, & maybe a happy ending (you interpret it 😅)
WC -> 6.4k
a/n: went a lil overboard with this one.
today is warmer than before. the sun blazes brightly, warming up king’s landing. the skies up are a bright blue, something you haven’t seen in a long time since the wet seasons. looking through the window, you gaze at the sea. today is calm, you think. there’s a restlessness in you that you cannot quite put your finger on. it’s quiet in the tower of the hand, always silent, sometimes you feel like a prisoner within your own home.
the embroidery in your hands has long been sitting on your lap, devoid of your attention. you only gaze out to the open, slightly grateful that your chambers face the ever vast waters of the blackwater bay. but your attention soon runs out from watching outside your window. you can hear your personal maid, lyonette, doing her embroidery work as well- or one of your unfinished works that she’s been happily continuing for you.
“lyonette… i’d like to walk by the gardens right now.” you say with much boredom. lyonette stops her stitching as she nods before standing up. used to your changing requests by now.
“of course, your grace. would you like to change in to something lighter? i fear the sun is scorching today.” lyonette suggests, and you nod kindly at her. lyonette quickly heads to your closet, full of various outfits that you can’t keep up with remembering that you had those dresses. you stand up, watching lyonette rummaged through before finally picking out a light colored peach dress, no long sleeves, but more of a off-shoulder cut with a long laced material adorning its back.
it looks like a maiden dress, but it will do.
“you have a wide selection, your grace. i do so adore looking at what dresses you have.” lyonette says fondly as she presents you the dress. you smile at her as you take a good look at the beautiful dress before nodding.
“this will do.” you say, and she assists you to change as you go behind the dressing screen. after that, lyonette guides you to your vanity as she fixes your hair. lyonette carries your parasol as you both exit your chambers. the soldier guarding your doors bows at you before you and lyonette venture off to the hallway.
“are the young princes in their chambers?” you suddenly ask when you pass by the familiar room of prince matarys and further down, prince valarr’s.
“i’m afraid not, my princess, i believe they are with their master-at-arms down in the courtyard right now.” lyonette tells you, and a cold bucket of water washes over you. embarrassed that you did not know what they were doing.
after all, you are their stepmother.
“…ah, yes. of course.” you hid your frown, but lyonette merely offers you a small smile of comfort. “i should visit them?” you suggest, unsure.
lyonette only nods. “as you wish, your grace. they will be pleased to see you.”
you wish lyonette would stop with her sugar-coated words. it has been a few years since you took the role as wife to the hand of the king, prince baelor, you are married to. everyone knew the marriage was purely for alliances and image for the heir to the throne. you knew that very well when you first got the letter from the king himself. after hearing his first wife passed away in childbirth. he was left with two sons, who you doubt would be pleased to meet you. although matarys grew some curiosity to you since you met him when he was still little, you don’t know if valarr would share the same. they simply view you as some woman to tolerate.
you cannot blame them for that.
you continue on with lyonette to exit the hallway towards the stairs… only you paused when you see the familiar figure emerge down the stairs in the far end. your fingers instantly grip the fabric of your dress as you spot your husband and ser donnel come closer. you can feel baelor’s eyes on you the very moment. when he finally comes closer, you are the first to speak.
“husband.” you greet him. lyonette behind you curtsies, muttering her own greeting to the crown prince.
“my wife.” he greets back, tone light and gentle. his gaze wandered from your face down to your dress. you stay still as you await his next words as his blue-brown eyes meet yours again. he does not say anything, and you take in a small breath before opening your mouth.
“i am to visit the garden today.” you begin, but his gaze tears you apart in the inside. “and visit the young princes in the courtyard for a moment.”
if anyone, other than lyonette, were to see this interaction between you two, they would think it’s a normal thing. but in truth, you can’t remember the last time you spoke with your husband that isn’t outside his bedchambers or yours… he always seems like a ghost to you since your marriage to him. always here in his tower, but never did you feel his presence at day.
“…i see. the weather’s perfect outside, is it not?” he responds, and you nod, wondering if he’ll ask you something else, something that isn’t short or quick. a surge of eagerness flows through at the moment.
“would you-“
“i shall leave you to it, then.”
your hope deflates, but his hand comes forward to grip yours. you freeze, remembering this intimate gesture the night of your wedding to him. he raises it to his lips, and gently kisses your knuckles before letting it go gently. his gaze never falters, and you know that look that means you’ll see him tonight again. your cheeks heat up, and you kindly faked a small smile at him.
“of course, husband.” your jaw tightened at your own words. ser donnel bids you a farewell as well as your husband walks past you, leaving you standing there in the middle of the hallway, feeling deflated again. you were used to it by now, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less with how distant he is. what pains you the most is how he isn’t cruel in his indifference towards you. he’s still has kindness in him that you loathe. were it pity for you perhaps, after all?
you hastily walk away with lyonette picking up your speed with haste. she can feel your growing mood by the minute as she looks back to where prince baelor had been. she looks back at you, an empathetic look crosses her face before you two head down to get out of the suffocating tower.
・゜゜・．
the gardens are your only place of solace besides your own bedchambers. you walk slowly this time, admiring the flora and greens. the trees above shades you and lyonette, but she still insisted on shading you with your parasol. you can hear the leaves rustling when a gust of wind gently passes by. your hand wanders to the rose bushes as you sigh. the memory of baelor’s gaze on you sets a fire within your chest, something between desire and longing. longing for more time with him, and belly-aching desire for him to undress you before him.
you love him, no doubt.
when you first met him it was in the great hall, surrounded by both your families. he kindly greeted you, and you were swept away from the very moment he did. he’s a gentleman, like they say, honorable and respectful. a picture perfect image of the crown prince the people of westeros adore and admire. after the wedding, all your expectations of being ‘married’ with him came falling down when you realize you wedded a widower. you were too blind at first to realize that. and you were too blind to notice how you seem walk behind his first wife’s shadow.
jena dondarrion.
it was the little things at first. when you moved to the tower of the hand, her room… or now your quarters was still kept as it is. dusting away until you finally arrived. and her portrait of her with baelor that was quickly replaced when you moved in. or your meals that were not your usual taste… or certain mannerisms your other maids would do that surprised you. and when you ask them why, they would always tell you the late princess always preferred it that way. and you immediately asked to change it all.
you do not meddle in that much to know the prince’s first wife, only you hear the whispers of his undying love for her. that poor you was force to carry on that mantle she left, and to pick up the pieces on your own. or if you would try to be like her and make baelor happy. it was cruel of them to whisper those words openly to you. but they were true.
you never saw or heard your husband talk about her. granted, you two have never done a conversation that didn’t end with few little words. but that his indifference is the evidence of him showing you he has no heart to love you the way he loved his jena.
oh, jena. you think bitterly. you force yourself to stop thinking ill towards the innocent woman. you have to remind yourself that she also was in your shoes once, forced to marry a prince, but the difference is that the prince grew to love her and have children with her.
and you?
what purpose do you have for him than a mere vanity to show the court his standing power and image. your naive heart still hopes that he might grow to love you as well amidst the pleasure you offer to him every night he wishes. it disgusts you so much that you cannot stop this cycle you have with him. since it’s the only moments you have that you pretend he likes you.
utterly pathetic. the little voice in your head mocks you.
“lyonette… did you serve under the prince’s first wife before me?” you suddenly ask. lyonette momentarily pauses, a little taken aback with your sudden question.
“no… your grace. i was not her late grace’s ladies’ maid, just a chambermaid before you picked me.” lyonette says truthfully.
“what do you remember of her?” you push further, itching to know after years of holding back.
lyonette gulps. “u-uhm, that- that she was kind, your grace.”
“am i kind, lyonette?”
“i-i beg your pardon, my princess?”
“am i kind as well?” you repeat, anxious for her answer. for her validation.
“you are… too kind, your grace.” lyonette says truthfully. you’d be gleeing at her answer but you don’t. her implication tells you that you’re too kind to let everyone walk over you because you’re the second wife to the crown prince.
“…thank you.” you whispered, walking ahead. lyonette catches up when you walk further down the garden, wishing to see something new. your feet takes you wherever until you stop abruptly, noticing a small gate by the far corner of the garden. it’s placement is unusual, and it intrigues you.
“what is this?” you ask lyonette who catches her breath. the golden gate that looks worn out is a stark difference to the well-kept garden of the red keep. the shrubs and bushes are overgrown, and the arch above the gate has also grown vines that suggest it has long been abandoned. how did you not notice this?
lyonette seems puzzled as well. “i-i do not know, your grace. perhaps a shack?” she suggested.
you take a good look before stepping forward to touch it. “doesn’t seem like it.” you mumbled pushing it open, making it creak loudly.
“are you sure you wish to go in, my princess?” lyonette asks nervously, taking a look at the vines and overgrown fern. “there might be poison ivy or bugs, and your dress will be torn by thorns-“
you ignore lyonette’s rambling as you push the gate further in as you enter the decrepit part of the garden. the sun barely pokes through from the overhead bushes that shield its rays. your scrunch your dress up as you maneuver yourself through the tall grass. lyonette behind you insist you must slow down or you’ll trip. you push away each overgrown fern, it itches your bare arms but you continue until you stumble upon cobblestone ground that you stop.
a tiny breath hitches out of you of the mesmerizing view you are beholden to.
the decrepit gate lead you to an abandoned small gazebo. you can still see the white marble amongst the moss and dirt, and the wild flowers growing around it. you take a step forward, looking at the view of the blackwater bay inside the gazebo. there you found two marble benches, grass still covers the inside, you can see roots have been embedded inside the gazebo. the wild flowers decorating around it was beautiful. specks of red, yellow, pink, but mostly lilacs and lavenders, and many more colors that seem like scattered paint.
“it’s beautiful here.” you say, looking at the ocean. lyonette steps behind you, too weary of the place. you were the only who admires such worn down beauty. “how come i never seen this before? was this someone’s own gazebo of some sort?”
“aye, your grace, it seems so.” she responds, a rare genuine smile graces your lips as you look around.
“it wouldn’t be such a hindrance if i ask the gardeners here to clean it, right? i shall like to make this place my own.” you told her as you look around.
“that wouldn’t be a hindrance, your grace. i shall ask them later.” you nod at her words, and your eyes caught something at the corner in the gazebo. you immediately went over to check it, and was surprised to see it’s a trunk… an old trunk? what was it doing here in the gazebo?
“this is strange. i wonder who put it here.” you tell lyonette as she peers over your shoulder. surprised as well to see the old wooden trunk. the wooden trunk has a heart shaped keyhole on it, it’s rusted but visible enough to see behind the grass.
“that is… odd.” she says. “maybe the gardeners used this as storage?”
“perhaps.” you agreed. “but they do not put their shovels or other tools here.” but you waved it off, more intent on picturing this forgotten gazebo to its former glory. you can read here quietly or have tea… maybe you can finally have the courage to invite your husband. it’s private enough for the two of you. he wouldn’t need to ignore you this time.
“i look forward to seeing this place cleaned.” you say, and lyonette nods. “maybe my husband would like to see this as well…”
lyonette merely agrees. “he will indeed, my princess.”
you pick some wild flowers before you two leave to visit the young princes. the violet hue of it joys you with your new discovery.
・゜゜・．
night has already replaced the sunny skies for today. you sit by your vanity, you have already dismissed lyonette for tonight. you apply your oils and creams, waiting for every second your door would open. and when it did, you wait for a moment as you see through your mirror your lord husband coming in. your heart skips a bit when you meet his eyes through the mirror. you continue applying your oil, seeing him unbutton his black tunic as he saunters towards you.
“how was your day?” he asks, the usual one to not make things entirely awkward. you can feel his front press against your back as you answer him.
“quite well.” you respond like always. “how was yours, husband?”
you can feel him lean down as his hands comes to massage your bare shoulders. his breath fans hotly against your ear, brushing his lips against the edge. his way of coaxing you.
“same as ever, dear wife.”
same words, same wants, same routine. he kisses your neck softly down to the dip between your shoulder. for a moment, like always, you imagine him whispering words of adoration to you, not just heated silence. that before this night he would love you as is, and treat you like a wife. not just some… something that warms his bed whenever he wants to. that he isn’t a ghost in the days, and takes you for a walk through the gardens.
that you’re his wife. not just some woman who needs to fill the shoes of his dead one.
you can feel his ministrations suddenly stop. from the mirror, you see him looking at the wild lavenders and lilacs sitting on your vanity.
“where did you get these flowers?” he suddenly asks.
“from the garden… i thought they were pretty.” you say in an airy tone, surprised he’s acknowledged something in your room. you watch him reach forward to pick a lilac. he rolls it between his fingers before he looks at your eyes again through the mirror. he gently tucks it behind your ear, and looks at you intently. the pale purple is an oddity for your usual colors you pick. but baelor, he seems to like it on you.
a beat passes. “it suits you.”
your cheeks heat up at his new compliment. like he finally acknowledged you. a surge of heat coils through your veins as you turn around to capture his lips with your own. he kisses you back with the same passion, lifting you up from your vanity as he guides you to your bed.
the lilac is still in your hair when he takes you that night.
・゜゜・．
the days after were different… in some way.
today, you’re fixed on the colors of your dress you’re wearing right now. you asked lyonette to call for your dressmaker and make you a gown in the shade of lilac or anything similar to it. today was valarr’s first meeting with his betrothed, kiera of tyrosh, a beautiful young lady. a feast was expected tonight, and you wanted to wear this dress.
“it is a new color on you, your grace.” lyonette smiled as you looked at yourself through the mirror. pleased to be wearing something new. the color scheme of the gown still held the targaryen’s colors, mostly black but a touch of lilac peeks under that gives its uniqueness.
“it is… it isn’t odd, though?” you ask her, and she shakes her head immediately.
“no, not all, your grace. you look beautiful in it.”
“thank you.” you delightfully said as you gaze back to your reflection.
a day before, you finally got the courage to ask your husband to join you for tea. matarys had ask you for tea time, and you wondered if baelor would accept your proposal. when you met him in the hallway again, you took the chance to muster up the practiced words in your head.
“my dear wife.” he greeted you like the usual that day.
“husband.” you greet him, not noticing the way he seemed caught by your sudden presence. his kingsguard weren’t with him this time, and it was only the two of you. “matarys and i are to have tea in the sunroom, would you like to join us?”
his eyes widened, and you notice something in his closed fist. you await for his response as he answered at last.
“of course, i will join you two in a moment.” he says, it did deflate your hope again, thinking he was refusing. he seemed to catch your reaction as he took your hand again to kiss your knuckles. that surprises you. “i must return something first in my chambers, will you wait for me?”
you can’t help but smile widely. “of course.”
he smiles before letting your hand go. you caught a glimpse of what’s in his hand… a small key of some sort. maybe it was a key to his private drawers up in his great chambers, where he does his work as the hand of the king. but you soon forgot about that curiosity when he did join you to walk to the sunroom that day.
tonight, you are welcomed into the great hall with both of the young princes. baelor is standing next to the king, up on the iron throne. your eyes meet his as you gently guide yourself in the hall where it is filled with both families of the young couple. you see your husband excuse himself from his father as he walks where you are. valarr took the liberty of introducing you his betrothed. in which you kindly greet her back with much kindness seeing kiera smile widely at it. it brings you much joy seeing the young prince and his soon-to-be lady wife so happy and in-love.
“you look utterly beautiful, my wife.” baelor whispered beside you. you grin at him as his gaze traveled down to your dress. your heart skipped a beat, loving this newfound attention he has on you despite the years of hearing his praise just in the bedroom. you don’t why he’s suddenly so interested in you, but you can’t seem to care for the answer when he touches the small of your back.
the rest of the night was splendid. it was a feast indeed. everyone was dancing and laughing along as you sit next to baelor, seeing the young princes and other young lords and ladies dance to the festivities. cheering on to valarr and kiera. baelor is busy talking to one of kiera’s relatives as you sip your wine.
“…you look awfully like her, ‘ya know?” a drunken mumble comes from somewhere, and you recognize it to be daeron’s. you turn to him, seeing him slumped over the table, there’s a wide space between you two as you raise a brow at him.
“and pray tell, who do i look like?” you question him and his weird words. daeron laughs as he sips his… fifth cup of wine?
“aunt jena.”
you feel a cold bucket of water splash you at that. you grip your goblet tightly as daeron mindlessly continued on, not knowing you’re this close to breaking something.
“i remember she used to wear shades of violet all the time *hick* m-made her stand out. and you- you’re wearing the same, i thought you were her for a moment. although, you’re more interesting to talk with.” daeron babbles, hiccuping. he’s soon interrupted by maekar who glares at him from the other side. your frown deepens as you look at your dress. the specks of violet mocks you as you look at your husband.
is that why he says it suits you? you think, feeling so angry and confused. that the color reminded him of jena, and you reminded him of her? your eyes watered as you quietly stood up, wanting to get away from him. baelor seems to notice it immediately, seeing you suddenly rushing out of the hall.
“excuse me for a moment.” baelor kindly tells the person he was speaking with as he stood up and followed you. your feet hurriedly take you to the garden as you controlled your tears and anger.
“has something happened?” baelor manages to reach you. “is there something wrong, my wife?” he asks so genuinely that you think he’s pitying you.
“there is nothing wrong.” your shaky voice betrays you. baelor frowns at your dismissal. “i just needed air, it was suffocating in there. i’ll be back.”
“why don’t i wait for you, then?” baelor suggests, and you sighed.
“…why now, baelor?” you suddenly ask him. so confused and clueless why he’s suddenly like this…caring and just ‘kind’ to you.
“i beg your pardon?” you turn to look at him, seeing him so frazzled has you regretting that you even asked that.
“you know that we never been this close to each other since we were betrothed… so why now? why acknowledge me now outside our bedchambers? why not then? i don’t understand-“
“i see…” baelor finally got it as he looked down to his feet, and you patiently wait for his answer.
“if you wish to put up appearances, then kindly ask me rather than confuse me with this- this sudden change.” you mumbled, feeling pathetic that you’re like this in front of him. “i am used to our previous arrangement. given that it is more private-“
“you are mistaken that i only want you because of that.” he corrects you. “i…i confess, i am a fool for not expressing more of my affection towards you. it is not your fault, my wife. our betrothal and our marriage was… rather put in a haste. and now-“
he pauses as he looks into your eyes. you hold back your tongue of asking of jena and the color violet.
“now… i realize too late that i do care for you. i always did, and i apologize for the years you’ve put up with my foolish endeavors. i, i merely wanted to fix this- us… for you. if you still wish it.” he confesses. you’re swept away with his words, but you still feel unsure with him. baelor reaches out to grasp your hand, checking if you’ll permit him to touch you. you nod slowly as you ease in.
“i do… i do wish it.” you say quietly. a small smile appears on his face as he kisses you. you were content with his words… but you wanted to hear him say he loves you. but he must have implied that without saying that. you reasoned in your head as you kiss him back.
but no matter, you were content enough for his confession and apology. that was enough for now.
・゜゜・．
the rest of the days after that night were more easier. the clarity you long once had been longing was finally put to rest. and your husband was true to his words of showing his affection more to you. he was more attentive, always spending time with you whenever he can, and you can say that you’ve been sleeping in his chambers more lately than in yours. finally acting like a married couple.
although there were some strange habits you have witnessed with him. it wasn’t entirely strange, more so… unusual. he sometimes would be sitting alone in his solar, looking fondly at something in his hand. and when you came in, he would always pocket it or set it aside. or the times he would be caught off-guard by your presence when you meet him in his chambers unannounced. or his reluctance to join you for a walk in the garden… telling you he simply wishes to stay away from the sun for a moment.
“valarr has wrote to me, telling me the wonders of the lands and culture in essos. tyrosh’s sea is a pleasant sight, he tells me. and he’s happy with kiera there. he wishes that we are with him.” you read valarr’s letter again, feeling so happy that he thought of you and baelor. you know you aren’t that close with him like matarys, but you were glad he wrote to you. baelor hums at his desk, smiling at your glee.
“that is good… maybe we can visit tyrosh together soon.” baelor suggests, and you smiled happily at him.
“that will be good for you, especially. you need a getaway from all your work.” you walk towards him, kissing him softly. baelor grins, pulling you to his lap.
“you are quite right.” he agrees and kisses your neck. you laugh softly before your eyes notice a strange key on his desk. one that you remember he was holding in his hand some time ago. it’s a strange looking key… so small and its heart shaped bow was an odd decoration for it. a feeling of dejavu comes over you as you stare it whilst your husband mindlessly wraps his strong arms around you.
heart shaped… heart shaped. where did you see that familiar engraving?
you blink back to reality, feeling a chill run down your spine as baelor unlaces the front of your dress. he pulls you into a kiss again, and you suddenly the image of the hidden gazebo comes into your mind. you wonder if the gardeners managed to restore it… you’ll check on it soon.
you ignore the way baelor subtly hides the key when you closed your eyes, basking in his attention.
・゜゜・．
you feel uneasy thinking about the key. you do not know why. there’s this gut-feeling inside you that you can’t quite put a finger on. but these past few days were a bliss. you finally had the married life you’ve wanted, and the insecurities you had were long gone. and it solidified when you first heard the words you long to here finally uttered out to you.
“i love you.” baelor breathes out, kissing your knuckles. it was just a simple moment, the two of you reading in the solar room. the simplicity of it was romantic. and you wanted to cry hearing him say that to you. the years of silent torment had finally been put to an end. you’ve even accepted in your head that you know he’ll always love his first wife, and you hope he had found peace after his long grieving.
“i love you as well.” you peck his lips. you should feel better now… but still, there’s the uneasiness you can quite quell when you glance at his desk again. wondering about the small key.
it was a cold night when you had the urge to succumb to your curiosity. it was nosy of you to pry in his personal belongings… but the urge to uncover something flew all your logic out. baelor was sleeping soundly when you stood up and gently wiggled yourself out of his arms. you quietly picked up the handheld candle that was still burning brightly. you quietly got of the bedchamber, and made your way up to the solar.
each step increased the butterflies in your stomach. when you arrived at his desk, you searched drawer by drawer for the key until you found it hidden away beneath the scrolls. why would he hide it? you ask yourself as you finally held the small key up to inspect it closely. the heart-shaped bow is so familiar…
you think and think again why is it so familiar-
the wooden trunk.
your fingers touch the heart-shaped bow of the key. a sinking feeling in your stomach urges you to know more. your feet had a mind of its own as you hurried to get down from the tower. in a haze, you don’t hear lyonette’s confused voice when she saw you in the hallway. you don’t know why you are so fixated on the small key in your hand, and the trunk you think it belongs to. the silence of the red keep irks you as you continue on until you are met by the gazebo’s entrance.
the gate is fixed and renewed. just like what you asked for.
you head in with heat in your steps. you ask yourself in a haze…
what would i find?
why did he have this?
was it something personal?
or something horrid that he’s keeping from me?
is the trunk his?
you’re face to face with the wooden trunk now. you clutch your robe tightly, shivering at the cold sea air. you bend down as you insert the small key. and you’re surprised it fits… like you expected. a dreadful feeling comes over you as you slowly turn it to hear the faint clicking sound. the lock of the trunk is unopened, and you gently lift the cover up. baelor must be hiding something important for it to be…-
gowns.
violet gowns and dresses.
beautiful, beautiful violet dresses are in this trunk. it was old dresses that were innocent in nature, but an unwavering hatred and jealousy it were to you. you gently pick one up, seeing the rich lace and silk. a deep purple was this dress. your eyes teared up as you look at with much jealousy.
these were her’s…
“what is the matter with me?” you cried out, folding the dress by your side as you pulled out each one. a mockery it was to you, that the small key was the item he always stared at so fondly. that it was her clothes that he still kept… for what?
she’s dead. you know she’s dead. “seven fucking hells. she’s dead, anyhow… she’s dead.” so why are you so jealous of a dead woman’s clothes? you are his wife now, she’s in the past. so why is he still clinging to her when you’re here, you’re right here. you’re so angry for the pain of not having his greatest love when he still loves her.
sweet jena. oh, sweet jena.
he said he loves me didn’t he? you think about his confession. you brush your tears against your robe’s sleeve. these dresses that were causing you an unnecessary amount of pain hurt more than the years you put up with his indifference towards you. a fire cascaded before your mind. your brain shuts off as you hastily shove all the violet dresses out one by one. you stood up, grabbing the candle you brought with you as you look at the pile.
for a moment, you hesitated when you look at the flame. but the small key in your hands urged you to drop the candle on the dresses. you watch as the flame begun to burn the silks until it bursted into a tall fire that you stare at. tears drip down your cheeks as you sobbed.
you look around the gazebo, seeing the two marble benches and the lilacs and lavenders surrounding it. and you understand why this place was left untouched.
it was hers as well.
you fell to your knees as you sobbed, throwing away the small key to the fire as well. you cursed baelor, you cursed jena, you cursed this miserable place you are in.
lyonette suddenly comes barreling in, she gasp at the large fire as she immediately went to your crumpled form. “y-your grace!”
you don’t respond to her as you could only focus on the sound of fire cracking and the stench of it burning.
and all you could feel was your heart breaking.
・゜゜・．
“a high fever, no doubt, my prince.” the maester sadly tells baelor. he looks to his wife laying on her bed, just the day before you were well, and now a high fever? your lady’s maid had informed him about your sudden illness, and he immediately ordered the maesters to examine you.
“what caused it?” he asks nervously. afraid you were poisoned or something worse-
“i… i have no clue, your grace. perhaps over-exhaustion. but we conducted all test for various illnesses… even pregnancy, but she showed no symptoms with all.” the maester explained mournfully. baelor shakes his head as he sighed.
“thank you.” he dismisses the maester as he went over to your side. he wonders what had happened to you last night. he awoke without you in his arms and been informed by his servants that you were in your own chambers.
“what happened last night with my wife? i must know.” he looks to lyonette who is standing silently by the foot of your bed.
lyonette frowns. “i found her in the gardens, your grace… she was crying and hysteric.”
“did something happened? did someone hurt her?” baelor presses as he looks at your ill form. lyonette resist the urge to say something else.
“she was in the abandoned gazebo alone… i-i do not entirely know what happened there, my prince.” lyonette says and baelor’s eyes widened. the mention of the gazebo catches his attention as he stood up abruptly.
no… no- you must have known now? he thinks. baelor quickly passes by lyonette to get up to the solar. when he checks his drawers, he finds the small key missing. and it cements his worries as he hurriedly went down to the gardens.
he arrives by the abandoned gazebo, seeing it all cleaned up made his stomach drop. he went in, and the stench of something burning had him covering his nose. he looks at the charred remains of the dresses and falls silent. all traces of were once the hues of violet were now charred black. his hand balls into a fist, anger washing over him.
he should say something to you- argue with you, but… he doesn’t. he doesn’t hurry back to you, but merely stands in silence looking at the last of jena’s clothes that are burned to a crisp. and he concluded why you were ill… he loves you after all. he can say that you were the sole reason he realized he can love again. but he always will love his first wife.
“y-your grace?” a meek voice calls his attention. he turns around to be met by the gardener.
“yes?” he asks.
“i was told her grace wanted to make this place anew… i-i heard she was ill today, and i was to ask her about what flowers should i plant or keep the growing wild ones as is.” baelor looks at the gazebo’s surrounding flora. he’s suddenly thrown back to the past for a moment. but he doesn’t let it linger as he looks at the lilacs and lavenders.
“should i keep the lilacs and others, your grace?” the gardener asks kindly. baelor immediately shakes his head. this gazebo is now yours, you were the one who wanted it to be restored. why should he let them keep the flowers here of the past? in truth, he hopes this situation that has happened would prevail in the years to come. but he knows well enough this would forever be a shadow in your lives. he hopes you will forgive him for this as well.
“no… no, remove the lilacs and lavenders. my wife would prefer for her to pick. i will ask her once she’s healed. but i think she would love something similarly to the color peach…” he says fondly. the gardener nods as he excuses himself, leaving the prince alone again.
the day is peaceful and quiet. a small bird landed atop the gazebo as it chirped loudly. the sea breeze kisses his skin as he imagines you and him reading together in here. just the two of you. the bird sings happily, unaware of the exhaustion you faced that night and the resentment you held for the man you love, and the regret written along the said man’s face.
MAEKAR SMUT HEADCANONS WITH CONTROVERSIALLY YOUNGER WIFE!!!
a/n: you ask and you shall receive! hope this was to your liking, anon 😩
maekar & his younger!wife nsfw headcanons ˚｡⋆
i imagine maekar with his controversially younger wife in the bedroom is that he can’t keep with your libido.
he’s had six children already, and he’s not entirely looking forward to having a seventh, but with you- maybe he’ll ease into the idea.
he can fuck, that’s for sure, but when he’s spent and satisfied after your coupling, you still want to continue as you climb atop him with a saccharine smile.
“give me a fucking moment.” he would grumble sometimes as you sit on his chest, batting your eyelashes at him. his cock’s still flaccid, but hardening the moment you lean down to kiss him. your glistening core grinding against him.
he’s so old that his back sometimes ache, and you can tell that he’s tired when he buries his face underneath your neck. you’ll tease him for that as well.
“old man.” you’d whisper against his ear. his shoulders would stiffen as he rises his head up to glare at you. magically, a strength replaces his ache, and he’ll pound into you even harder just to prove he’s not that old. and you love every second of it when he’s like this.
sometimes, he would feel a tad insecure in the inside. he’s not the same young warrior he was, and you’re bright and young. he thinks himself as already a dull sword, and he wonders what you desire about him so much, he doesn’t understand.
but those thoughts are soon shut down when you shower praises at him while you ride him.
“m-maekar… you feel so good.” you’d say in a hazy tone as his cock hits the right spot inside your cunt as you grind against him. his large hands grip your hips as your fingers scratch his broad chest.
“you make me feel so good, husband.” you’d whisper, and that makes his heart burst out. it’s true, his experience in the bedroom is contributing factor to that. he’s mature to know what you like and such… especially with his tongue.
overall, maekar and his controversially young wife are match-made in heaven. the gossips among the ton don’t really faze the two of you that much. your eagerness and youthful energy are a contrast to his serious and brooding one, but he loves it.
