Hello and welcome to my blog! My name is Alexandra (she/her) I am an American living in China. I'm a trailing spouse to an international teacher which means I have a lot of free time. I spend my days writing fanfics and posting deranged shit on the internet. I am never beating the "does not spend her time wisely" allegations made by my 4th grade teacher.
Master List
I write for Rings of Power, A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms and Star Wars. Requests are open.
I will write for pretty much any Tolkien, AKOTSK and Star Wars character, but I will not write incest or minor/adult relationships. Please be patient with me when making requests! I will try my best to answer them as quickly as possible! I will close requests if I have too many piling up.
Below you will find my master list.
A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms
Maekar Targaryen
His Princess (Maekar x F! Wife Reader)
The Dragon's Treasure (Maekar x F! Wife Reader)
Rings of Power
Celebrimbor
Troll Hunting (Celebrimbor x F! Wife)
Calm Within the Chaos (Celebrimbor x F! Wife) One Shot
Accident at the Anvil (Celebrimbor x F! Reader) One Shot
My Heart (Celebrimbor x F! Reader) One Shot
NSFW Alphabet (Celebrimbor)
Threads of Fate Celebrimbor & Gil-galad x F! Reader) COMPLETE Chapters 1 and 2 - Chapters 3 and 4 - Chapters 5 and 6 - Chapters 7 and 8 - Chapters 9 and 10 - Chapters 11 and 12 - Chapters 13 and 14 - Chapters 15 and 16 - Chapters 17 and 18 - Chapters 19 and 20 - Chapters 21 and 22 - Chapters 23 and 24 - Chapters 25 and 26
Gil-galad
The Pain of Parting (Gil-galad x F! Reader) One Shot
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
SUMMARY -> a man is walking in the streets of the neighborhood alone and bloodied. the man’s ear is still bleeding because of the tiger that sunk her claws on his flesh… a lamb, however, finds the man wandering alone and offers rest in her house. the lamb doesn’t expect the series of events that changes her lonely life because of the man that long to be free of sin.
ole munch x fem!reader
GENRE -> nsfw/smut
WARNINGS -> not proof-read, religious (mostly catholicism and christianity) themes, smoking (im projecting here lol), violence and blood, protected p in v, mutual masturbation, and riding
WC -> 9.2k
a/n: fargo was so good! especially s1, 2 and… of course s5 😉 AND SO UNDERRATED ACTUALLY, WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT FARGO?? ole was definitely a peculiar character, and i mean the series itself does a good job in blending in supernatural stuff with its crime genre, and ole’s the cherry on top ugh 😩
smoke fills in your lungs as you exhale loudly. the taste of the cigarette smoke on your tongue is bitter but pleasant. the cold of minnesota never stops making you shiver despite moving here three years ago. but you liked the peace and eeriness the state has for some reason. and tonight was no different as you sit on your porch alone… but it’s lonely to be away from your family and hometown. california was the opposite, but always chaotic, work made you move here which was the reason. torrance was sunny and breezy, the beach and its nostalgia was something you remembered from time to time compared to the snow here. but it was life, and you were bound to experience this loneliness you expected.
it’s almost halloween now, and compared to your home here in the suburbs, all the others were lit up with different decorations of skeletons, pumpkins, witches and more. what cozy homes, you think. your’s only had two pumpkins you carved out of the whim, and it looked dull and pathetic.
is home now really your home? you wonder sometimes, wondered if moving here was really right. you miss your family, friends, the beach, the laughter, and all things that felt like home.
and now…
everyday you come from work with no one to talk to. sure, you made some friends from work, the local coffee shop, neighbors and that. it was childish you felt this way, longing for something that you knew was the expense of getting a better job.
you tap the ashes of your cigarette on the ash tray. you lean back against your chair, watching as you see a family come home with smiles on their faces. the wife kisses her husband on the porch, and their kids make fake sounds of disgust, and they all laugh as they go into their warm home.
i want that. your mind suddenly says, and you take another hit of your cigarette, enjoying the nicotine buzz as you brush that thought away. the cold doesn’t help your sudden blue mood as you finally crush the cigarette out and just sit there… wondering again if you will ever feel the warmth of your home like theirs.
a man… a man however…
a man walks through the quiet suburbs with his ear still having that numb sting. blood still sticks to his hair as he looks around the quiet neighborhood. the man is still reeling in his anger about the tiger and roy’s lack of payment for him. he had what was needed, and he expected half to be paid for the injury of his flesh and the lack of information that the tiger had claws that were sharp. and the rabbit, the blasted son, has continued to poke at him thinking he has claws.
pride is the original sin.
the rabbit and his father are both filled with it along with countless others. the man can almost taste it on his tongue. the bitterness of countless sins he has eaten, pride has always been the foulest one. lucifer was cast out of heaven for it… and the man sees the same fate for both.
only…
humans were always looking for a way to make themselves escape from sin.
and the man was the one who swallowed it all because there was nothing else to eat.
the man’s nostril flares, he feels too weak. there’s no home he can go to, for it was across the seas. only, he had no home back there as well. the man stops, the burden on him weighs heavy as he looks at the quiet neighborhood. the man is looking for somewhere to stay for awhile… to lay low and think of what he can do to get his rightful payment. the scent of smoke catches his nose for a moment as he merely stands beneath the street light, pondering.
you take another cigarette from your almost empty pack, it’s a toxic habit you’ve been trying to cut off, but you always seem to reach for it. putting it between your lips, you’re about to click your lighter open until the most peculiar sight makes you pause.
the man stares up to the sky, wondering if god is looking down at him with pity. does god care for a sin-eater like him? would He take away the sins the man ate and let him walk free at last? the man has been on this desolate earth for far too long that he doesn’t remember what it feels like to have a body that functions normally. he is a wandering soul trapped in sin, forever forced to roam the land with no other purpose.
did lucifer felt the same as him when he fell from the heavens? did he as well crave to go back home?
“h-hiya?”
the man blinks, hearing a meek voice call for him.
“are you lost, sir? i couldn’t help but notice you were standing there for so long.”
the man’s head turned to the woman’s- no…
a lamb.
a meek lamb.
you laugh awkwardly as the strange man stares at you silently. you’re suddenly thinking that this was a dumb idea that you approached him. but he looked lost, and you thought he might have been having a problem for how long he’s been standing there. the strange man, whose face you can now properly see, blue eyes stare at you… questioning. he’s tall, unique haircut, and… blood on the side of his face-
“are you alright?” you ask, worried, gesturing to his ear. “that looks like a nasty cut. d-do you want to wait out on my porch so i can call someone? maybe your family?”
the lamb looks at the man like he’s… he doesn’t know what to describe it as he observes your face. the lamb’s brows are furrowed, eyes raking his form, checking if he has any other injuries. the lamb then gives her name, and he remembers it.
“my house is right there. at least let me look at your wound…” the lamb points to the white house, and he follows your gesture. the lamb then quietly ushers him, and he follows…
“a-are you from around here?” you ask again, hoping to get some information out of him. “this is a big neighborhood.” you chuckle as you glance back at him. “wouldn’t be the first time someone got lost here, ‘ya know?”
the man doesn’t answer again, but stands awkwardly on your porch. the lamb gives him a small smile, gesturing to the chair.
“sit, please, while i look for something to clean your cut. wouldn’t want it to be infected.” the lamb pleads, but the man merely stares at something. and your eyes follow his silent gaze to your… cigarettes.
oh.
“d-do you smoke?” the man finally looks at you again. “do you want one? feel free, please.”
the lamb scurries to grab the pack of malboros, fishing one out, presenting it to him. the man looks at the cigarette then to the lamb, and he takes it. the lamb gestures to her lighter, and the man puts the cigarette between his lips, leaning forward as the lamb lights his cigarette with ease. he inhales, puffing out the first hit before inhaling again, the smoke filling in his lungs and the buzz that comes next makes his shoulders… relax.
“thank you.” the man finally says, and the lamb looks surprised. the lamb merely smiles, and a tug inside him confuses the man for a moment. the man then waits for the lamb’s next move, always expecting something.
“you’re welcome. always need a cigarette now and then to calm the nerves. d-do you have someone in mind to call? while i find some bandages and some iodine?” the lamb asks again, and he stares at you. wondering how you’re not scurrying to call the police or that, but you chose to ask him if he had anyone to call to. and offering to clean his bloodied appendage.
the man is… intrigued.
the man’s next words solidify the thought brewing in him as he admires the easy and soft look on the lamb’s face.
kindness was not something he was given to all the time.
“i live here… now.”
・゜゜・．
the mysterious man that ended up on your porch was a strange turning point after the mundane week you had. his accent was not from here, that you can tell, it was a mix between something english… and old? you could not explain it. the cut on his ear was indeed nasty, but luckily didn’t need any stitching so you just cleaned it and bandaged it. you try to ask him what happened, but he seemed to tense at that, so you let it go. it was strange, of course, that he said he lived here now. you thought he was just pertaining to staying the night… but no.
you tried asking him if he had anywhere to go… and the answers he gave were quite cryptic to understand at first.
“a man is far from home…” he merely says when you let him inside after he finished his cigarette, worried that he’ll freeze since he was just wearing a wool sweater… and a kilt. huh.
“oh, so you’re not around here, then?” you busy yourself making some hot cocoa for him and yourself. something to warm yourself up and ask again if he has someone to call for. you’re worried he has a family looking for him. he doesn’t answer as you look back at him.
“i-i’m not really from around here too, ‘ya know?” you can’t help but share with him. you don’t know why. you always liked chattering around with people, part of your job as well. being a clerk in a hospital has its ups and downs, but you always manage to be friendly and kind. you never know when someone needs it is your motto everyday.
“i grew up in california. and before you ask why minnesota, well it’s because of my job-“ you continue to ramble while the man behind you stands idly by the kitchen counter. touching his bandaged ear from time to time.
but back to the topic now…
“l-look, i’m all for helping you, but… uh, don’t you have anyone looking for you? they might be worried.” you tell him the day after when you were spooked the hell out when he appeared by the kitchen as you’re leaving for work. like he just appeared in mid-air.
“trade.” the man says instead of answering you. “a man offers… trade for the lamb’s home. for refuge for a moment.”
“trade, you say?” you’re… confused who’s he pertaining to a lamb. and your reaction seems to make the man’s eyes light up. your reaction not being out of fear.
“yes.” the man says it like he’s happy to know you understand... in some way.
“w-what kind of trade, then?”
“a trade will be made, that is certain.” he merely says, and you’re trying to decipher what he meant, really.
“i…” you don’t know what to say. he’s peculiar, and you’re not sure what his intentions are now, but you don’t really get a bad impression from what he’s offering. “…well, i don’t know your name. and this is a lot of trust you’re asking when i don’t know who you are-“
“munch.”
“monk?”
“ole munch.”
“oolah monk?” you repeat again, it sounded so foreign you’re pretty sure it’s scandinavian or norwegian or something. “well, it’s nice to finally know your name, ole.”
there’s a long stretch of silence when you expect him to say something. but he doesn’t, he just looks at you, waiting for your answer. you awkwardly fix your bag on your shoulder before finally speaking up again. might probably be the strangest morning you ever had.
“i don’t want to kick you out, it’s freezing out there. and… uhm… i don’t know what problems you’re having. b-but if you say you’re just staying for awhile… well, it’s just me in this house you’ll bother, then… okay?” you again don’t know why you agreed. maybe you’re just too kind. “just promise me you’ll bring no trouble in this home.”
the man stares at you again, this time his brows furrow for a moment. you don't know whether to leave now for work, considering you’re almost late.
“you say trouble…” he begins. “trouble follows men long before they arrive.”
another riddle.
“that’s supposed to assure me?” you ask, wondering what he meant by that. was he running away from something? or someone?
the man says nothing in return.
which somehow makes it stranger than before.
you clear your throat, hyperaware that this situation has become more bizarre than what you expected of letting a stranger- an injured stranger in your home. and you agreed to let him stay despite warning signs that should be clear that he might be in trouble.
or maybe you’re over-analyzing the situation.
you don’t know.
“okay…” you breathe out, looking at your phone out of habit to check the time. “we’ll talk more when i get back from work, okay? i just… well- this is all so bizarre right now. it’s not everyday i willingly let someone in my home.”
the man stays silent again, and you’re about to leave before remembering you need to feed him after all.
“oh, i made some pancakes. just heat them up in the microwave, and there’s juice in the fridge.” you point to the plate of fresh pancakes on the kitchen island. the man’s expression shifts for a moment, lightened by the mere word of ‘pancakes.’ that you just offered freely. the man nods, and you leave, feeling a little out of place for a moment.
・゜゜・．
you never knew a weirder week in your life than what has been happening now. the man in your home was like a phantom, a tall and ominous phantom, always appearing from time to time, yet you never felt his presence completely. you had talked to him again about his ‘stay’ in your house. you mostly spewed out that he can use your guest room for the time being, and he mostly stayed silent like always. merely watching your every move with that stoic face he always puts on.
you’re pretty sure you’ve gone mad that you’re housing a man with little to no information about him at all other than his name.
sometimes, you’ll find him in his room, just sitting on his bed while he smokes your cigarettes. you had kindly asked him to open the window, at least, and you don’t know if he heard you or not. other times he’d appear when you’re in the kitchen, making breakfast, and he seems to show up when you’re making pancakes.
other times… you’re kind of worried he doesn’t eat at all other than pancakes you make.
he keeps his distance, you’ll give him that, but sometimes you’d check up on him from time to time. and he seems to disappear and you’re left wondering if you heard him go out the door. but when he’s looming behind you, you can’t help but speak about your day.
it was refreshing… a nice change that you got someone to talk to after work. no matter how weird the situation was.
“… you know, i can’t believe someone would willingly shove something in their butt! it was so bizarre, and the poor man’s face was so red that he had to lay flat on his stomach while they wheeled him in.” you rambled as you flicked through the channels. the man sits on the other end, looking at your television as you continue to rant about your day.
“it certainly made my day. it was a slow shift before he came in. i thought he was just complaining about a stomach ache. but martha always says that the most normal looking person always has the freakiest kinks.” you settle on the game show that you always binged on then you turn to him. “do you think so?”
the man looks at you, and he seems to think about it which makes you let out an awkward laugh.
“who am to say, really? we all got some weird kink still hidden inside us.” you shrug as you lean back on your couch. “i’m starving. you want some pizza? i can order.”
it’s absurd how you talk to him like he’s been living here for a long time. like he’s your friend. the man doesn’t answer you, but watches the game show, looking curiously.
“i’ll take that as a yes, then.” you mumble before grabbing your phone. you glance at him, watching him for a second, they way the tv screen shined on his eyes, your gaze trails to his side profile. the bandage you put on him is still there.
and he’s still wearing his long sleeves and kilt, you had offered him some clothes he can wear. you think the clothes you gave him might be too snug on him. he’s a large man… and you make a note to buy some men’s clothing once you go grocery shopping.
“is pepperoni okay?” you habitually ask, and you really don’t mind that he doesn’t respond.
the man merely stares at the contestant winning a prize for spinning the big gigantic wheel of colors. it was so peculiar to him, how luck seemed to be the key factor for the people playing the game to drive their hopes. but it was all planned, wasn’t it? it doesn’t take long for him to notice the disparities in how this ‘game’ works. only one was destined to win it, and yet the others didn't. the way their faces crumbled, they way the man hosting it only offers them a pat on the shoulder and lets them leave with fake sincerity.
like a humiliation ritual it was.
but it seems everyone likes to watch it.
“oh wow, she won that fancy new car and the cash prize.” the lamb says, looking awed. “wish i had that car, it’s got that fancy touchscreen thingy.”
the man turns to the lamb slowly.
the lamb looks at the glowing box, mesmerized by the mere fact someone had won something the lamb wanted. it’s peculiar to him, how the lamb feels joy for this- for someone. the man does not understand where the lamb’s unrelenting kindness comes from. he does not understand how freely the lamb let him. but what he does understand now is how the lamb has been living in this home all by herself. maybe that was why.
humans are social creatures by nature.
and he does not understand why the lamb lives alone. and to move here where family is far away. to work, to make a wage, to survive in this world that’s plagued with men’s greediness that meager people are forced to endure the hardship of living. even if it meant to be away from where home really is, the lamb had the courage to move away to live.
where was the lamb’s anger? he thinks. to live in an unfair world while still being kind was always a confusing concept to him. yet the lamb still takes joy, like at this moment, seeing someone win something the lamb could have. in his years of living and seeing so many people come across his path, a lamb was new to him. not a pathetic rabbit, a fierce tiger, a corrupt king… but a lamb.
the lamb of god was a title meant to take away the sins of the world. always uttered in prayers before he would consume the sins of the deceased. but wasn’t he the one who took them away rather than the lamb of god? he would often ponder about it once he had his fill.
but his lamb, his lamb-
despite sin, you were kind. he thinks.
had there ever been someone truly sinless?
“pizza’s on its way now.” the lamb interrupts his thoughts. “shouldn’t take too long now.” the lamb smiles at him before standing up. “wanna smoke?”
he stares at the lamb, wondering if you’ll forgive him for the trouble he might bring in the following days. he stands up, and the lamb goes out, and he follows.
・゜゜・．
there was always something weird going around in minnesota from time to time. maybe it was the long freezing winters or the isolating woods. maybe you were not used to it yet, maybe that was why you felt like something weird was always something happening to you. first time something weird happened was when you were freshly new in your neighborhood and minnesota itself. you were driving along the dark highway, headlights bright, and suddenly a flash of bright light erupted in the night sky. you guessed it might have been a meteor or something. yet the brightness of that flash was like someone had a gigantic flashlight.
but oh well…
you’re having even weirder instances that seem to be becoming normal now.
like your routine you have with the man- ole, in your home.
most of the time he still kept to himself in his room, others, you would find him in moments you expected to be alone. like when you come back from grocery shopping, you were used to hauling your heavy grocery bags by yourself, of course, but somehow he’d always appear right at the front door making you jump in surprise. you swear you might get a heart condition from how he’s been spooking you with his presence. but he’ll help you with the groceries silently, and you let him.
it was nice that you got someone to help you with simple tasks that were difficult before you had no company. felt like what you’re doing finally meant a little bit more, now you had someone else other than yourself in your lonely home. that leaky pipe you’ve been meaning to call a plumber? suddenly fixed. your washer’s fan that’s been squeaking non-stop? fixed as well.
it’s like he fits himself perfectly in your lonely abode.
your shared smoke breaks were something that became the ones you look forward to after a chaotic shift back at the hospital. the emergency room was chaotic most of the time, and he’s a great listener when you’re ranting (by great listener, he just sits there and stares at you while you rant away.)
sometimes you wonder if he listens at all.
“and then she had the audacity to tell me i filed the paperwork wrong.” you tell him, flicking ash from your cigarette on the tray. “it’s her paperwork! i’m already doing the ones she missed.”
the man beside you exhales his smoke out to the open. you take another inhale, the bitter taste spreading across your tongue, further making you upset about your lazy co-worker.
silence was your only response as you exhaled out. snow flakes drift lazily across the neighborhood.
“the woman with blonde hair.”
you blink. “what?”
“suzy.”
the man merely looks ahead, as if there’s something he’s been spying out in the distance.
“she complains much.”
you look at him, surprised. “i told you her name weeks ago.”
“a man remembers.”
the man takes another hit of his cigarette as you force yourself not to smile. for some reason, that warms you more than a cigarette ever could.
it was silly… you tell yourself now.
and very strange. you had to remind yourself he got into your house in the weirdest way. but the comfort he brings changed the way you look at him. and you admit to yourself that he’s not a stranger anymore… more like… maybe a companion? you sometimes look at him, wondering how he came about. other times, you don’t notice you stare at his face.
he’s handsome… a sort of rugged look he has with his hair and his whole attire. when he sometimes stands close to you, there’s a flicker of something you haven’t felt in such a long time.
yet here he was.
and here you.
he had become apart of your routine. not the bleeding stranger that stood alone in the cold streets. looking ominous and intimidating. when you’re making coffee, you bring out two mugs. your pancakes that you can’t finish, he eats them with joy. he’s the second pair of footsteps, although quiet, that moves in your quiet home other than yours. he’s that quiet presence that spooks you when you’re in the kitchen. he hovers behind, looking over your shoulder while you cook. and he willingly sits and smokes with you on your porch, and you’re not met with the lonely cold night of minnesota as your companion.
a companion.
the thought makes your stomach flutter strangely.
oh, it’s so silly! you think to yourself as you prepare dinner in your kitchen. you chop the potatoes, setting them aside as you move to your oven to check the roasted chicken. pretending that the sudden warmth across your cheeks comes from it.
ridiculous.
you’re ridiculous.
and the thought of him leaving… settling his ‘debt’ with you makes you feel all gloomy all of the sudden.
right, temporary.
this whole thing is temporary. and maybe tomorrow or you hope at least next week, he’ll be gone with a cryptic answer for what he’ll supposedly give you in return. you’re a little bit on edge now, having not heard him move in the house or announce himself behind your back. you chalk it up that he must be in his room.
“chicken’s almost done!” you yell out, but it feels like you’re shouting at nothing. you don’t usually eat with him most of the time, but you wanted to do something more than what you were cooking for yourself. maybe you can invite him for dinner rather than leaving out food for him that you’re half-sure if he ever eats it other than pancakes. you busy yourself with sautéing the potatoes with garlic and olive oil.
the chicken is ready by the time you transfer the seared garlic potatoes on a fancy plate. the dining table is already set up and you can’t help but check on him, wondering where he is.
as you step away from the kitchen, your slippers step on something… wet?
you glance down, eyes widening, shocked to see you stepped on mud… mud? you tense up, seeing the mud as you follow its track to the hallway. the atmosphere turned heavy, you tense up, the dimness of your home doesn’t make it better as you grab whatever object near you as a makeshift weapon. afraid that someone else broke in, and your intimidating companion was nowhere to be found. which makes matters worse. the only defense class you took was back in 6th grade when you took wrestling as your P.E class for some reason. and that was years ago.
you slowly follow the muddy footsteps, and it leads you to your staircase. you gulp, gripping the empty paper towel holder as you take a deep breath before having the courage to go up. your phone is upstairs in your bedroom, and you can’t call 911 without it. every step you take as the darkness grows each climb makes your hands shake. you cannot believe there’s an intruder in your home, and you’re pretty sure you locked everything. and the front door was closed, and you didn’t hear any footsteps as well. maybe the window? you think. but impossible.
the muddy footsteps stop at the bathroom. the door was ajar, light was peaking through, and you brace yourself to open it. the door creaks open and a muddy hand suddenly opens it wide. you yell as you’re about to swing, only for a harsh grip on your wrist to stop your assault. you finally can see the intruder, and all nervousness seem to disperse.
the man- ole, yes, your ole… stands before you covered in mud from head to toe… naked? no, not naked, but in underwear, thank god. the stench of earth and a metallic scent envelops your nose, making you wince but you don’t care about that now. all you care about is what the hell happened to him.
“oh my god, it’s just you! w-what happened? are you alright?” you blabbered, dropping the towel rack as you cup his muddied face.
the man… stands still as the lamb’s hands cup his face so gently. he flinches for a moment as he feels your fingers shakily wipe the mud off under his eyes.
“god…” he mumbles, yet his other words are interrupted by the lamb.
“i-is that blood on your arms? are you hurt?” the lamb’s hands drop, and he almost chases the warmth of the lamb’s palms. palms that were gentle and soft, not calloused and harsh palms that forced him to his knees and maul his face while he begged for coin and food. but palms that hold… care.
“oh god, you’re hurt! you’re bleeding…” the lamb panics as he stands still, his head swimming a bit. it has been awhile since he had done that ritual. to connect with the earth and take on the sins he ate, and gather strength for the vengeance he will have against that blasted family. he lets the lamb fuss over him, the soft hushed whisper of the lamb’s words makes him forget about the burden of his acts. just only the lamb’s hands filled with comfort makes him feel sinless again.
“lamb…” he utters, and the lamb pulls him back into the bathroom.
you’re distressed. you push him into the bath, turning the shower on really quickly. making sure the temperature is warm as you see him sit down in the tub. the cuts on his arm looked self-inflected, and you don’t have the darndest clue of what the hell he just did to himself. it scares you, and it seems he notices your distraught as his brows furrow and he frowns.
“yeah?” you hear him utter that nickname he gave to you.
“a lamb takes away the sins of the world.” he mumbles as you grab a washcloth, soaking it in the faucet. “a lamb of god…” he continues to ramble on while you grab the first aid kit in the drawer. “lamb…”
“don’t soak your arms in the tub please. let me clean and bandage them first.” you shakily say, too focused to entertain his rambling. the bathwater turned murky and brown when you kneeled beside him, gesturing for his arms.
“what did you do to yourself?” you don’t notice the tears swelling in your eyes. the lacerations on his arms were huge, and you thought for the worse. “you can tell me everything, ‘ya know? you’re not… y-you’re not a stranger anymore, you can tell me what’s happening. d-did someone make you do this?”
he looks at the lamb.
fear written all over the lamb’s face. poor lamb. not fear of him, but fearing for him. the distinction settles strangely in him as he feels the lamb wipe his wounds. he ignores the stinging pain.
for centuries fear has been his only source of drive for survival. fear had worn many faces for him.
fear of starvation.
fear of pain.
fear of death.
the lamb’s were not this.
“no.” he quietly says.
“no?” the lamb breathes out, shakily wiping the mud and blood off his flesh.
“it is the man’s burden.” the lamb looks at him confused, but carefully wipes his arms again.
“ole…” his name on the lamb’s tongue sounds like warm pancakes. “that’s not reassuring.”
the man watches the lamb’s brows knit. watches tears gathering in your eyes, and something inside him twists unpleasantly.
the lamb should not weep over a man such as him.
“the burden belongs to the man alone, lamb.”
“that’s stupid.” the lamb’s response is immediate. no hesitation. the man blinks at that.
“i… the man does not understand.” he asks weakly.
“that’s stupid.” the lamb repeats, done with wiping his arms as the lamb pulls out an ointment of some kind. gently dabbing it on a cotton pad and presses against his mauled skin. the coldness of it makes him flinch, the lamb notices it immediately. “s-sorry.”
“nobody should bear it alone.” the lamb quietly tells him. “you don’t have to tell me everything.” another wipe, but the lamb’s words were the ones that make him freeze. “but you don’t have to sit here hurting by yourself either.”
silence follows. only the sound of water slightly splashing and the lamb’s breathing fills the bathroom.
warm…
scent of the antiseptic.
remnants of the mud and blood are already faint.
the lamb is kneeling beside him, focused on tending to him.
the man cannot remember when someone tend to him with this much care. he does not even remember his own mother’s nurturing embrace…
his gaze lowers to the lamb’s hands. small hands compared to his, but steady despite the lamb’s worry and fear. hands that patch his wounds. who offered shelter, food, comfort, kindness… without naming a price. the lamb did not name a price for him, and yet he could not function properly if he did not make a trade with the lamb.
“lamb…” the man says, and you glance up. for a moment, neither of you speak.
“when munch was a boy…” he begins. “freedom was a potato.”
your eyes widened, as if what he said just made you feel relieved. you don’t say anything, letting him speak.
“was you did not get killed today… freedom from hunger… from the rusty blade.” he stares into the distance as you gently wrap his arm with a clean gauze. “but to free himself- the man ate.”
your breath hitches for a moment.
“first… so others could not. he killed before he was killed. he wanted nothing more because only… kings… had the freedom to want.” there’s a bitterness in his tone that intrigues you. “but now… everywhere you look, you’ll see kings… everything they want, they call their own, and if they cannot have it, they say they are not free.”
his tone turns into something akin to anger. roy tillman and his son’s face flashes through the man’s mind.
“they even pretend freedom should be free, that it has no cost.” he breathes out. “but the cost is always… death.” that settles something in you, something uncomfortable. “life for life… me…”
he slowly turns to look at the lamb.
“or you…” the lamb does not notice the tear running down the lamb’s cheek. his bandaged arm slowly lifts up, reaching to cup the lamb’s cheek as his thumb swipes the stray tear hesitantly. the lamb leans into his touch and breathes out a sigh. his chest feels heavy all of the sudden.
“whoever… whoever made you hurt yourself, i don’t know if that’s why you’re here… but i’m glad you told me this even if…” you let out a small laugh, feeling ridiculous that you can’t process his cryptic words. “even if i don’t understand it all yet.”
the man’s hand falls back to his lap.
“i made roasted chicken by the way… and garlic potatoes. d-do you want that after you clean yourself up?” the man looks at you, the tension on him disappears for a moment. “do you want anything else?”
his eyes light up for a moment and he suddenly stands up. your cheeks turn warm as you look to the floor, and immediately rise to his height as you grab a towel for him.
the man almost smiles. “pancakes.”
・゜゜・．
the day after was a blur.
you had the day off, and he quietly asked you if he could borrow your car over breakfast. although it sounded more of a command rather than a question. but he had the decency to ask, and you agreed. before he could leave, you noticed he didn’t have a thick enough coat, and the snow outside was heavier than yesterday. you did not want him to freeze as you stopped him.
“take the coat, please? it’s shit-freezing outside. i don’t want you getting hypothermia.” you say to him as you shove the old grandma coat you had that’s been hanging on your coat rack since forever. he glances down at the coat then to you.
“thank you.” he says, grabbing it and putting it on. you smile at him before you watch him walk away. wondering where he’s going.
yet you did not expect what he brought after that.
you were sitting in the kitchen when all of the sudden, he appears out of thin air again, making you yelp.
“you scared me.” you say, and he suddenly drops a bag on the table. “what’s this-“
“trade.” he merely says, gesturing to the bag. “for you, lamb.”
you blink, and you guess he wants you to open it how hard his gaze is as he tracks your every move. you hesitantly open it, and you swear your eyes were going to bulge out when you finally saw the contents in it.
“where did you get this?” you ask, bewildered. the amount of cash in here look like it summed to at least a hundred thousand or something. “ole, no, no, no- listen, i can’t accept this-“
“a trade has been agreed upon.” he reminds you, and you shake your head.
“i’m not really struggling with money, and i don’t know what to do with this- okay, wait, where the hell did you get this cash?“ you push the bag towards him, and he frowns… more confused with your reaction.
“the man’s debt has been repaid. it is… done. a man has no use for half of it…” he tells you, and you’re more bewildered saying that’s half of what he’s giving to you! you sigh, standing up as you walk towards him.
“i don’t feel comfortable accepting it. you’re kind that you thought about this, thank you for that. but ‘ya know… all this-“ you gesture to him and you. “all this doesn’t have to be repaid.”
his brows furrow. “the lamb offers a man a warm home and food for his burden. a debt is expected… it is required.”
“not all good things… well… uhm, not all good things have to be given something in return.” you tell him gently. “i offered you my home because you needed it, right? you did not bring trouble here, and i think that’s enough for what you can give me in return. and you already paid it.”
“the lamb desires for more… you say you desire for a better vehicle. this is enough for the lamb’s want.” he presses on, and you huff out a laugh. it surprises you how much he remembers, which makes you feel all warm.
“i do… yeah, i do want more. but sometimes you have to work the hard way to get it. it is nice to be able to get in the easier way but… what’s life without the hardship of living?” you shrug, feeling ridiculous about your own ethics. the man stays silent, almost upset but very confused still.
“hey…” you reach to grasp his hand. “thank you for this. this was very thoughtful of you.”
you’re so close to him that you can feel his breath fan across your face. he looks at you, features slowly softening as you can’t help but lean up and press a chaste kiss on his cheek. when you lean back, you can see the pupil of his eyes widen, and he looks away… sheepishly.
“a gift then… for you, lamb.” he mutters. you giggle loudly, amused he still wants you to have the money.
“don’t.” you warn him teasingly. “i don’t know where you got this, but i’m not gonna ask again. it’s yours.”
he looks at the money then to you.
he still can’t understand you.
but it feels nice… a nice change for once.
“you’re leaving, then?” you suddenly ask, and the man doesn’t answer for a moment. you frown, feeling a little disappointed. “if you’re leaving… please tell me, don’t disappear.”
“the man will not.” he tells you with no hesitation. you wonder if it’s him leaving or telling you he’ll give a word before he leaves. you give him a tight smile, nodding.
“the man’s debt is paid… yes… but it is not over, yet.” he confesses. “no trouble to be brought into this home, you say… there will be trouble, but it will be taken care of.”
“i…okay.” you breathe out, wondering what the hell was that supposed to mean. “but you’ll be alright, right?”
“the man will not disappoint the lamb.” he reaches to touch your cheek again, as if he’s remembering your face as you glance at his lips while his thumb gently caresses the apple of your cheek. so he is leaving, you think. you don’t want to picture what your home will feel like again when he leaves. not when he’s looking at you like this. gentle and soft.
you like him so much. you confess to yourself, and you don’t want to make things awkward if you tell him so. you’re not even sure if he feels the same way.
“okay…” you pull away from his touch, and the man falls silent, letting you walk away. he senses your disappointment, but he cannot bring himself to soothe you. he does not know how.
he watches the lamb leave, and he broods alone in the kitchen.
・゜゜・．
you smoke more than what you consume tonight. there’s a noticeable shift, and you don’t know if he senses that, and ignores it as he stays in his room. you blow the smoke away, even the nicotine doesn’t lighten your mood as you think about him leaving. you feel so pathetic that you don’t want him to leave. you know he has his own life… no matter how strange you view it. but he became someone that mattered to you despite knowing him for almost a month.
it would be selfish of you to load what you felt for him when he’s dealing with something. and it irks you that you want to know more. but he’s good at putting up a wall when it comes to that. you take another hit of your cigarette before putting it out on the ashtray. a sudden sound causes you to look up, and you see a man looking over your car suspiciously. as if trying to find something in it.
“hey!” you yell out, and the man quickly turns to look at you. the young man is dressed in a vest, hair slicked back, and wearing a cast on his arm. he looks mildly surprised when he sees you. “that’s my car. what the fuck are you doing?”
“just checking something, lady.” he says, and you grab your phone.
“leave, please. or i’m calling 911.” you threatened, staying still where you are, but ready to bolt inside if the young man tries anything. the man’s gaze shifts to you, he squints, seeming to turn his attention towards you now.
“that won’t be necessary, lady.” he says, slowly walking over before stopping to take a good look at you. “is he in there?”
“what?”
“i asked, is he in your fucking house?” he says, and your mind clicks. dread fills your mind as you grip your phone tighter in your hand.
“i don’t know what the hell you want, sir. i live alone.” you inch closer to your front door. the young man scoffs, and suddenly bolts towards you making you scramble to get in.
“help!” you yell out when he manages to grip your wrist as he pulls you both in your home.
“shut the fuck up.” he clasps his gloved hand above your mouth while he clumsily kicks your door shut, tackling you to the ground. you let out a noise of pain as he holds you down. “just tell me where he is, i know you have him in your house so don’t try to play dumb with me, bitch- ow!”
you manage to bite hard on his hand as you run up the stairs. the man follows as you run up the steps, sprinting to the hallway through dark until you trip. your head hitting the wooden floor loudly, making you wince and moan out in pain.
“fucking bitch-“ you hear the intruder say as you look back to see him glaring at you. you scramble to stand up until your eyes widened seeing ole appear out of the corner, holding a baseball bat that you had and swinging it towards the intruder’s head. you gasp, seeing the young man’s body fall to the ground with a thud. you shakily stand up, and ole kicks the intruder’s body for a good second as he finally diverts his attention to you.
“who’s that?” you manage to ask despite being out of breath. “he…he was asking about you- i-i-“
he takes a step towards you, and you let him.
“…you were not supposed to see him.” he finally says, and you blink dumbly.
“…i should call the cops.”
“no.”
“no?” you look at him, bewildered. “please tell me what’s going on! i’m so confused-“
the man touches the side of your head. a bruise has formed on the side of your face, and you wince in pain.
“the man will take care of it.” he merely says. “all will be gone, lamb.”
“you say that…” you sigh. “please… stop saying that.”
you don’t want to look at the unconscious body laying in your home. you swat away his hand as you walk past him to get to your room. the man follows, looking sorry.
“it is almost finished. the man’s trouble will be resolved-“
“stop saying that!” you plead. “you’re leaving, i get it. i’m… i’m just so confused.” you sit on your bed as he stands in front of you. “you don’t have to leave just yet… if someone else is trying to find you, you’re safer here-“
“no.” he immediately says. “a man has failed to protect you, he will not let anything else happen. this was a mistake. a man will not burden you longer, he will leave tonight-“
“what if i don’t want you to leave?” you ask brokenly. taking the courage to look at him. the man’s expression shifts.
“i don’t want you to leave.” you whisper, standing up. inching closer to him. “stay here. you can solve whatever shit you’re dealing with… but come back here. back to me.”
he stays silent for a moment.
“a man does not deserve a lamb…” he mutters, taking in your face as his gaze roams around to your eyes then to your lips.
“you don’t get to decide for me.” you tell him and you had enough of this. you hesitately tiptoed up, cupping his face as you press your lips to his. he stiffens, his hands flying to grasp your waist. the softness of your lips, warm and enticing, reels him in. you feel him hesitating to kiss you back, but sigh softly when you feel his lips move against yours. your hands drop down to paw at his chest. your heart beats so loudly, you're scared that he can hear it.
“lamb…” he says between kisses, mind foggy with want. want that was suppressed because he did not see himself deserving of this. but you- his lamb says otherwise.
“just for tonight…” you plead, pulling away as his forehead presses against yours. your eyelashes are almost touching with his. “don’t go yet.”
he does not have the heart to say no.
because he does not want to leave as well.
“yes.” he shakily says, and you smile. you kiss him again, this time with more heat and want. something you’ve been waiting for all let loose. you lick the seam of his lower lip, enticing him to open up as you taste him. he makes a noise, the taste of you ripe on his tongue.
no sin or delicacy tasted as sweet and pure as you.
you let out little moans as you clumsily kiss him, not caring if it was messy. you’re enveloped in his warmth, the heavy feel of him makes you swimming with want. he towers over you, and slowly pull him closer. wanting to feel his chest against yours. you suddenly pull back abruptly from the kiss, making him chase after. his gaze looks so hazy and beautiful, you can’t help but press kisses along his cheeks.
“i want to… i want you.” you whispered, hands caressing his chest. “w-we don’t have to do anything yet-“
“a man wants too much.” he whispers hoarsely. “the man is in the lamb’s hands now.”
his hands squeeze gently around your waist. your eyes darken as you take a step back, gripping the hem of your shirt to shrug it off.
“take off your clothes, then.” you say sweetly. the man shudders, seeing you strip for him as he watches you peel off your outer clothing. he obeys, shrugging off his long sleeves and kilt, and everything else. when he’s done, his cock twitches at the sight of you bare. you giggle when you see his eyes wandering, and you can’t help but entice him further. gaze dropping down to his crotch, and you mouth waters seeing the sheer size of it. your hand teases your breast, and the other boldly touching yourself in front of him.
you tease your clit with a slow rub. “touch yourself… go on. want you to watch me.”
he almost whimpers as he shakily grips himself. your gaze rakes his bare body, admiring the way freckles adorn his arms and chest. he’s fairly built, muscles contracting as he grips his cock that’s leaking. his hand slowly moves up and down, in tandem with yours. you let out tiny noises of pleasure, rolling your nipples between your fingers as you rub yourself while you watch him jerk off.
“does it feel good?” you ask in a hush whisper. he nods, twisting his hand up and down, squeezing himself as his gaze stays down at your hand rubbing your sweet little cunt. wondering what you’ll feel and taste like as he sees it glistening just for him.
“lamb…” he whispers, pleading. his cock jerks up when you moan loudly. “i…i want, ugh-“
“you want what?” you ask breathlessly. you’re so wet, that you think you’ll slip in just as easily on his cock.
“a man wants whatever the lamb o-offers-“ he gasps out when you suddenly touch his swollen and red tip. your soft hands that cared for him, wrapping warmly around his cock as you press kisses on his skin. you push him to bed, grabbing a condom in your drawer as you stand between his legs. for a big man like him, he sure does look small as you tower over him. his cock stands proud and tall, leaking precum just for you. you tear the foil open, then look into his eyes again.
“…do you still want this?” you ask, wanting to make sure he’s comfortable.
“yes.” he nods furiously. hands reaching to touch grasp your thighs, softly caressing them. you roll the condom on his cock, and wet your lips as you straddle him. he guides you, seeming unsure what to do but you smile softly at him.
“i really like you, ‘ya know?” you tell him. grasping him again as you rub the tip of cock across your glistening folds. “don’t want you to leave me…”
“to want… me?” he whispered, as if you said something so strange.
“yes…” you whine out as you continue to rub your pussy on him. “i want you. just didn’t want to bother you… or if you don’t want me.”
“i want you.” he strongly says despite the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling. he has not known this touch for such a long time. “lamb…”
you let out a loud whine as you slowly sink down on his cock. he grips your hips, gently guiding you down. you let out another moan when you hear your juices squelching as your pussy stretches out to welcome him.
“oh, fuck-“ you whimper as you finally take him all in. you feel so full, so full of him. you begin to move your hips, grinding slowly against him. the loud squelching noises make it so obscene as you ride him. you pinch your nipples, looking into his eyes. those eyes looking up at you that were once so intimidating. the man sits up, and shakily kisses your delicate flesh. you grip his shoulders, letting him explore.
he kisses your neck down to your collarbone, whispering jumbled words as he sucks one of your breasts in his hot mouth. he groans, as you grind down harder. his hips jerk up, adding to the friction as you let out another whine.
“you feel so good, baby.” you tell him, kissing the side of his face. “feels so full.”
he kneads your other breast, while the other hand grips your waist to keep you steady as he starts to thrust up in you. you hug his broad shoulders, feeling a little dizzy as you bounce on him faster. you feel the hand on your hip slowly dive down to rub your clit clumsily.
“my lamb-“ he whispers against your chest.
“oh, oh- right there- please, pleasepleasplease-“ you cry out as his thrusts started to become erratic and quick. your nails dig into his back, his cock massaging your tight walls so good. so big, so fucking wet.
“yes… yes.” he rubs your clit faster, feeling your walls clench around him so tightly. he knows you’re almost close the way you’re begging for him to make you cum. he’s almost there as well, the way you’re clenching around him makes him thrust up faster.
“oh f-fuck, yesyesyes-“ you blabbered, feeling your high near. the sound of skin slapping and your combined juices squelching fills the room as you feel yourself let go. he hits that spot inside you, and you cum so hard as you cry out his name.
“sweet, sweet lamb-“ he kisses your cheek as he sloppily thrusts up to follow after your high. he lets out a tiny whine as he grips your hips, grinding down on him as you let out a whimper. his hips buck up, finally shooting his load inside the condom as his head rests against your shoulder. the two of you are out of breath as you caress his back, soothing him through his orgasm. his cock slips out, and you whine at the loss of him.
you gently lean back to kiss him. he kisses you back, more softly this time as you smile against his lips. the two of you collapse on the bed as you settle against his bare chest. his bangs are sticking on his forehead, hair all messy, making you grin at his state. he looks so in peace as he holds you in his arms.
“you good?” you ask him, voice a little hoarse.
the man glances down to his lamb. he softly caresses his lamb’s back, feeling complete.
“thank you.” he says gently. you giggle, seeing him so fucked out because of your doing makes you feel all fluttery. and your heart skips a beat, remembering he wanted you just as much as you do. before you could even kiss him again, you remember about the unconscious intruder laying right outside your room.
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Can I request Maekar getting heated at the new stable boy for eyeing you up!?
Oof yes! I love this!!
I wrote this on my phone, but will come back and edit it on my compter tomorrow! Please forgive any punctuation or grammar mistakes. I am only human (derogatory)
Pairing: Maekar Targaryen x F! Wife Reader
Warnings: None
The Dragon's Treasure
"What in the Seven Hells happened?" A deep voice from the garden below rang up and into your bed chamber. The question was followed by some inscrutable shouting.
You crossed to the window and peered down to the yard below. You saw Maekar standing next to Ser Douglass and two stable boys. Ser Douglass was holding the reigns of one of Maekar's horses, Galfrey. You could see that Galfrey's leg was injured and he was bleeding. The stable boys were hunched down tending to the horses wound.
Though you could not make out every word, Maekar's anger was unmistakable.
Maekar took meticulous care of every horse at Summerhall. He visited the stables daily, bringing apples, inspecting hooves, and making certain their manes were properly groomed. He always claimed to have no favorites, but you knew better.
Galfrey was special. Your father had gifted the horse to Maekar after the birth of your first son, Daeron, and the prince had treasured him ever since.
You knew your husband's temper and love for this horse were not going produce a rational punishment for Ser Douglass. He'd likely get a good whack around the head, or worse if you did not intervene.
You quickly made your way down to the garden, hopeful that you'd reach your husband before he lashed out too badly at his knight.
"Maekar!" you called sweetly as you entered the garden.
He ignored you.
His tirade continued unabated while the stable boys stood awkwardly nearby, apparently having managed to stop the worst of the bleeding.
You reached your husband's side and interrupted him gently. "Oh, what accident caused this injury on Galfrey?" you asked trying to sound as if you were seeing it for the first time.
Ser Douglass turned his full attention on you, clearly relieved he'd been saved from Maekar's wrath.
"My lady, it was a simple accident! The rain we had last week loosened many of the rocks on the northern path. Galfrey stumbled and was cut." The poor knight looked absolutely petrified.
"Why was the path not checked properly before bringing the horse down it?" Maekar spat. "You've yet to produce a reasonable answer, Ser."
You walked over to Galfrey, examining his injury. "Well the bleeding has stopped, thanks to these two boys." You turned to the stable boys and offered them both a smile. "I think he shall survive, my love." You said turning back to your husband.
Maekar said nothing. He let out a grunt of annoyance and tugged the reins from Ser Douglass' hand. "Give me my damned horse you fool." He muttered to his knight.
The knight opened his mouth to apologize again, but Maekar silenced him with a raised hand. With a final scowl, he turned and led Galfrey toward the stables.
Once he was out of earshot, you offered Ser Douglass an apologetic smile. "He was rather harsh on you, Ser. Galfrey will recover, and by tomorrow all shall be forgiven."
"My thanks, Princess," the knight said fervently.
You had barely taken three steps before a voice called after you.
"Princess!"
One of the stable boys hurried forward and fell into step beside you.
"You like horses?" He blurted.
The question was so unexpected that you nearly laughed.
He was tall and gangly, all elbows and knees, with unkempt brown hair sticking up in several directions. You were fairly certain you had never seen him before.
"Forgive me, but are you new to Summerhall?" You asked.
"Oh! Yes, my lady." The boy flushed immediately.
"I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself. My name is Flyn. I arrived a fortnight ago."
He sounded breathless, as though he had spent the last several minutes arguing with himself before gathering the courage to approach you.
"Well then, welcome to Summerhall, Flyn."
His face brightened at once.
The poor thing looked as though you'd knighted him.
Flyn followed you down the dirt path to the stables talking the whole way. "You're right, Galfrey will be fine. He's not badly injured. It's just a scratch. I think the Prince is being unfair about the situation!"
"Well, don't let the Prince hear you say that." You said laughing. "He is very passionate about his horses. There is nothing wrong with wanting them to be cared for properly."
"I suppose not, Princess. I meant no offense." Flyn said quickly.
"No offense taken. You are new here, and will quickly learn Prince Maekar is a serious man, a stern man, but never unfair."
You and Flyn walked in silence for a bit longer when he suddenly stopped.
"Is something the matter?" You asked.
"No, Princess, It's just that you never answered my question about horses. Do you like them as much as the Prince does?" He asked with a somewhat expectant smile.
You were caught off guard at his insistence you answer the question.
"I, um yes well who doesn't love horses?" You joked.
"I hate them." Flyn answered his voice becoming bitter.
"You hate them? Why would you seek to work in a stable if you hated horses?" You asked in disbelief.
He turned away from you now and looked at the ground, his ears and cheeks flushed in pink. "I came to Summerhall to work for you, well to work near you." He swallowed hard.
"What ever do you mean, boy?" You said more formal now, unsure of where this conversation was going.
You could see him chance a look at you from the corner of his eye.
"The people in my village, they all speak very highly of you, Princess. It's said that your kindness and gentle nature make serving at Summerhall easier than most other castles." He was boring holes into the dirt path with his eyes, unable to look at you. "And your beauty is legend." He added quickly.
"Ah, I see." You smiled at his confession. "That is very kind of you to say, and it pleases me to know others think so highly of me." You laughed despite your best efforts to remain unaffected at his confession.
You resumed you walk down the path to the stable in silence as you thought of Flyn's words.
When you reached the stables he spoke again, "I hope I didn't cause you any offense or embarrassment, Princess." He said shakily.
"None at all, in fact quite the opposite." You smiled brightly at him and pushed the door to the stable open and stepped inside.
Maekar was sitting on a low wooden stool feeding Galfrey an apple. The other stable boy who had been in the garden with Flyn and Ser Doulgass was brushing Galfrey's mane.
"There you are." You said softly.
Maekar glanced up. The contentment on his face vanished instantly.
"Where the fuck have you been?" He barked.
The words struck you like a slap. You were stunned to the spot. Maekar never spoke to you this way. "Excuse me?" You said horrified.
"Not you woman, him!" Maekar lifted his hand and pointed behind you. You turned to see that Flyn had followed you into the stable.
"Forgive me, my Prince. I was only speaking to the Princess."
"Speaking to the Princess eh?" Maekar said eyes narrowing on the boy.
"He was introducing himself, husband. He was being polite." You said defending Flyn.
Maekar did not look at you or acknowledge your words.
"Do you think I am blind?" Maekar asked.
"What? No, My Lord!" Flyn stuttered.
"Do you think I am stupid?" Maekar asked with an annoyed huff.
"Neither, My Lord." Flyn looked seconds away from fainting.
"Maekar." You said his name as a warning, but he paid you no mind.
"What do you require of me?" Flyn asked rushing over to the wall of hay bales and grabbing at them. "I can lay new hay. Should I lay new hay?" Flyn was desperate to divert the attention away from Maekar's accusations.
Maekar ignored the boy's frantic questions. "Stable boys do not speak to my wife! They do not walk with her. They do not trail after her. You are a servant, my servant. She will not entertain your fantasies!" Maekar's voice was low and severe.
Flyn stared wide eyed and crimsoned faced at Maekar unable to speak.
"Do you understand me?!" Maekar's voice was loud now and the sudden change in tone cause Galfrey to spook and pull at his reins.
"Y.. yes...yes." Flyn stammered. "I understand."
Maekar pointed to a shovel in the corner, and without taking his eyes off Flyn he spat "Shovel the shit from the stable, that's what I require of you."
Flyn said nothing and bolted for the shovel. He began frantically cleaning the stable stalls, never looking up at Maekar.
"Maekar Targaryen!" you scolded under your breath. "How dare you take your anger about Galfrey out on poor Flyn!"
"Oh! Flyn... that's the stable rats name then?" He said raising his eyebrows.
You shot him a severe look.
Maekar sighed heavily and ran his hand over his face. "Too many incompetent fucking fools working here." He grumbled.
You took a step toward your husband and laid your hands on his chest. His hands automatically came to rest on your waist.
"He was being kind. He was not flirting." You kissed Maekar's cheek and smiled up at him.
Maekar looked over your head at Flyn who was shoveling hay and horse waste into buckets. "Maybe so, but he's new and needs to learn his place." He mumbled under his breath.
"Jealousy is not very becoming for a prince." You teased.
He looked back down at you now, a wicked grin forming at the edges of his mouth. "Jealousy? He laughed in disbelief "Dragons do not guard treasure out of jealousy. They guard it because its theirs. They own it, and every fool in the realm wants to steal it."
synopsis: Maekar (and his brother) teaches his Wife how to defend at her own hand, purely for his own peace of mind.
word count: 1,661
warnings: 18+ mdni, female reader, no use of Y/N, readers looks are un-described, suggestive sexual themes, kissing, fighting, play fighting, (real world) inaccurate self defense, woman + wife as terms of endearment. (reader is a legal adult) REMEMBER - YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT AND MEDIA YOU CHOOSE TO CONSUME
DISCLAIMER: All themes, plot, images used in general and characters from A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms + elsewhere belong to the rightful owners, I hold no rights to the original media - but my writing belongs to me.
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The chambers you shared in the Redkeep were vast, colder in nature than that of yours in Summerhall in the sense that they did not feel your own. The cavernous space allowed for movement however, and Maekar was taking advantage of this structural change away from prying eyes.
“Again.” He ordered, his body hovering above your own from where your back lay pressed against one of the many expensive carpets that adorned the place. You couldn’t help the groan that escaped you, trousers and a tunic hanging loosely from your damp frame, sweat sticking hairs to your skin as you grumbled in annoyance. “I am not denying I will be attacked husband, being married to a man with a mouth like yours its bound to happen- however slamming me into a stone floor is not going to make me want to practice with you.” You rolled onto your stomach, throwing a glare in his direction as his hand made contact with your arse, the smack echoing off of the chamber walls as he went from kneeling to standing. “Lose the attitude woman, I’m doing you a favour.” The eye roll he threw you in reciprocation did not escape your gaze as he hauled you to stand. “Hit me, come on.”
You aimed your leg straight between his own all too quickly, however he caught your thigh before it could make any true contact. “I said hit me, not permanently damage my cock.” He shouted, releasing your thigh and pushing you back, forcing you to stumble lightly at the force. “I thought you said any contact is better than none, husband.” He scoffed, “Do not use my words against me. In a genuine attack yes hit wherever necessary, however in this bedchamber when it is your husband and his cock, do not damage what you know you will grieve.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as he ordered again, “turn around, we will do this differently if you cannot hit me as I am asking you.” Complying, you turned to face the door. “Now when you feel me close, do as I have showed you. And if you do it properly I will be on the floor, not you.”
You waited until you felt his breath hot against your neck before throwing your elbow back into his ribs, his bicep coming around your throat you felt the urge to bite him just to teach him a lesson. “I know what you’re thinking, don’t you dare bite me, do this properly.”
“I am!” You yelled, yet he had you on your knees before pressing you chest down into the floor, the muscles of his own chest flushed against your back as he caged you. “An intruder would slam you to the floor, I have lowered you out of kindness. Anyone bold enough to attack a Princess will not have mercy, wife.” Using the leverage of is bicep under your jaw he forced your neck up, tilting your head back until your eyes met his own. He pressed a hungry kiss to your lips as his teeth dug into the lower one, a whimper escaping you from the overwhelming sensation of his entire body overs yours, his possessive nature, his need to teach you. Distracted by the kiss and the sight of your body pliant under his control he seemed to underestimate the power of your legs. You pulled your lips from his own, tucking your mouth and nose into the crook of his elbow and elbowing him, causing his hold to slip entirely. Taking his surprise as advantage you turned onto your back before wrapping your thighs around his waist and flipping him underneath you as you now straddled his hips, wrists pinned to the floor above his head. You could not help the proud smug smirk that encased your plump lips, even Maekar grinned lightly with a nod. “Well played, but you cannot seduce an intruder as you would me.”
“But I still did it.”
“You did.”
The door jolted and swung open, Baelor stood in its wake as he eyed the state of the pair of you on the floor. “Am I interrupting something?” He questioned, watching as you released your husband’s wrists but instead they fell to your hips. “Not at all, brother.” Maekar sat up beneath you as you crawled out of his lap to stand, allowing him to do the same. Maekar shut the door behind his brother, taking the book of legislations from his hands and placing it on the bed. “She won’t take me seriously, attack her as if you were an intruder.”
Baelor raised an eyebrow, eyeing your clearly physically exerted state and Maekar’s withering patience. “You want me to attack your wife?” Baelor asked, as if it were a trap, he knew his brother well and he wouldn’t put it past Maekar to suddenly change his mind and fight his brother for even attempting to lay a finger on you. While Baelor definitely succeeded in combat, he did not take pleasure in it, and he certainly would get no pleasure out of attacking his sister-by-law. “That’s what I said isn’t it? She needs to learn and clearly I am a biased teacher.” You shrugged “I’m doing well!” You protested, “There is no need for you to attack me.”
“Do it.” Maekar ordered again, eyes narrowed solely on his brother. You wouldn’t seduce Baelor, nor attempt to- lest in front of your own husband anyway. Baelor sighed, loosening his doublet and the cuffs at his wrists, “Seven hells you’re not actually going to do it!” Your eyes wide, your brother-by-law was proper, cared far too much for his image yet here he was ready to attack you as if he were an intruder solely because his brother asked him to. “You should learn, I taught Jena. It will be fine. You can hit me.” The groan of frustration that left you seemingly only brought amusement to him. “There are many tourneys coming, if you wish to be allowed the company of your own presence, I would suggest you pay attention. Otherwise it will be back to the company of the Kings Guard trailing you.”
You huffed, readying yourself “But don’t pull my hair, that hurts.”
“If you’re being attacked, wife, it’s going to hurt.”
“Alright, alright I won’t pull your hair. I’ll just grab you.”
And what a liar he was. He had you against the wall in seconds as you writhed “I don’t like this anymore you two don’t even give me the chance!” Baelor just shook his head, “Breathe. Think about what you are doing, where I am touching you. If I am touching your arms use your legs, if I am pressing on your chest and not your neck, consider head butting. It’s about process of elimination and balancing your actions to counteract the attackers.”
“I’d knee you in the cock but Maekar said I can’t do that unless it’s actually an intruder.”
“Will you focus on what you are doing!” Maekar shouted, he was watching the other side of the room. From this outside perspective he could see how truly helpless you looked against Baelor, and it pained him to think of what you would look like in the given situation if it wasn’t his own brother, rather someone with genuine intent to hurt you.
“Here.” Baelor loosened his grip, “bring the back of your ankle to my thigh here. If you use enough force it will make a persons leg feel dead weight. It’s a pressure point. Do as I’ve told you.” Following the instruction you did, causing Baelor’s leg to bend unwillingly as he let go of you entirely, falling to one knee with a wince. “See. One move and now you’re free to attack me in return, or run. Which is what I would advise you to do. Not to mention make noise. Break things, scream, shout. Bang against the walls if you must. Anything to draw attention.” He rose to stand, brushing off his knees. “We had an intruder break into our bedchamber once. Jena was alone. She drew the attention of the Kings Guard by smashing the chamber window. An expensive fix but worth nothing in comparison to her life. In that situation you must do what is necessary.” You sighed, nodding your head lightly. You could understand why Baelor took both his and Jena’s safety so seriously given all they’d been through. Not to mention the attacks from the Blackfyres pre-rebellion. “You’ll get better with time, just take it more seriously. You are well protected, but you should know no hand safer than your own.” He squeezed your shoulder gently before going and retrieving his legislations, “I’ll find you later, brother.”
When the door had swung shut behind him, you turned to watch him go. Now rather it was Maekar who had taken you genuinely by surprise, catching you entirely off guard. You thought, you felt, and he did not win this time. Instead he ended up sort of crumpled on the floor, you would have felt bad had you not been beaming with pride. “Yes! I did it! Now I am going to bathe.” You bragged, yet Maekar reached for your ankle and pulled you to the floor, dragging you underneath him, his beard now tickling your cheek. “I am losing patience with you woman. I just want you to be safe.” He grunted, kissing your cheek to your lips. He suffocated you with his mouth, drawing your breath from within your lungs to his own, consuming you entirely. You pulled away gasping lightly as you pressed your forehead into his own, “I did well. I am learning. But now I am tired, can we not pick this up on the morrow, we’ve been at it for hours.” A kiss to your jaw, then another to your collarbone he travelled, devouring with each fluttering contact made between you.
“Alright, wife. As you wish.”
A/N: guys i tried to incorporate a little bit more of baelor into this maekar fic, in the future what would we think of a baelor x reader x maekar? let me know your thoughts (and whether you’d want reader married to one or the other- or both i’m not fussy). anyways as always: requests open, likes, comments, reblogs and any interactions at all are always always appreciated. take care everyone!!
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synopsis: A rare lazy morning in bed with your beloved husband
word count: 777
trope: husband x wife
warnings: smut, p in v, woman used as term of endearment, reader is a legal adult, no use of Y/N, lazy morning sex basically. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! REMEMBER - YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT AND MEDIA THAT YOU CHOOSE TO CONSUME
DISCLAIMER: All themes, plot, images used and characters from A Knight Of The Seven Kingdoms + elsewhere belong to the rightful owners, I hold no rights to the original media - but my writing belongs to me
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You were firmly pressed into your husband’s chest, the white hair that coated the hard planes tickled your bare breasts as one of his large hands wound into the hair at the nape of your neck. A small whimper left your lips as you roused from your slumber, suddenly feeling unusually full. “Shh, s’alright. Just me.” Your husband grumbled, his beard brushing your forehead as he slowly rocked his hips, cock forcing its way impossibly further into your tight heat. His lips pressed gently against your brow as his eyes squeezed tightly shut as ever loudly growing grunts and groans begun to spill from his lips.
Maekar was rarely a man who stayed long in bed after the sun rose, as much as he often wished to lounge duty called him more often than not, especially when visiting the Red Keep. However, you were not in the Red Keep this spring morning. You were hauled up in Summerhall Estate, the wet morning air of the Stormlands coated all outside the window, the smell of spring damp filled your nostrils as the wind pushed it through the cracked open casement, the fog covered the grass of the gardens like a thick sheet of cloth kissing close to the glass of it.
The sloppy suckling on your neck brought you back into your bed, your mind drifting back to the man inside of you, as his free hand begun to work on your clit. A pathetically quiet whine rolled from your throat as his hand drew your head further back, allowing him greater access to the underside of your jaw as it met your neck, “So quiet this morning.” He murmured, another grunt leaving him. “Nothing to say?”
“Kiss me.” Your voice was breathless, the dusty haze of sleep still heavily present in your eyes, your voice being so pliant and gentle as a soft smile graced his stony features “Hm, that I can do.” His lips met your own, far too hungry, too desperate for such an ungodly, early hour. The grate of his teeth piercing your lower lip startled you more to reality as you pushed yourself up, his body moving with yours, so that he rested against the pillows and his cock pushed into you impossibly further as he willed you to ride him. Your soft hands palmed at his firm chest, his own calloused ones falling lower to rest on your hips as he pressed his feet into the mattress and met your movements slowly.
The sensation was consuming, the way he allowed you to set the pace without complaint. The way he watched your lips part with each breathy moan as his cock kissed your cervix, eyes clenched shut as you in time begun to clench around him. “Maekar.” His name left your lips before you knew what you were saying, “I know, I can feel- fuck I can feel all of you.” His voice was so deep it was almost hoarse, the morning rasp still had him, gods his voice. It did things to you, especially most when it was so husky on those mornings when you awoke from a previous night of few words. “You’re fighting it, god’s please don’t- I need you to cum for me.” He rasped, your pace had quickened now, as had his own, a silent plea for you to release so that he could follow suit. One of your hands scraped up to his jaw, pressing your thumb against his lips. He parted them, taking your thumb between his lips and biting it lightly, coaxing a lazy smile onto your face between the moans. Unable to cope with the nearing overstimulation anymore, his thumb circling your clit thoroughly, you let yourself go entirely, a loud moan escaping you as you released his face and pressing your own as far into his neck as you could go.
“Fuck, Wife.” He grumbled, eyes squeezing shut, his own release following soon after as he filled you. His movements slowed but they did not still, riding you both through your highs as your fingernails dug red crescents into any part of him you could grasp to ground yourself. “Too much-” The plea fell from you, he knew it was too much, and too early, he could feel what he was doing to you, not only through being so deep inside of you but by how tightly you clung onto him, teeth gritting together harshly. He stilled gently, your mixed releases leaking between your thighs sloppily. Tenderly his hands brushed your stray hairs from your face, his lips finding your forehead as praises begun to fall from his lips,
“My perfect woman.”
A/N: guys I've never published smut before so I apologise if this is a load of shite
