Brutal Love

The brothers were both too smart to involve themselves in the discussion in any meaningful way. It was best that you ladies discuss the arrangement, the scandalous agreement that was being made here in this room. You thought it best that it be Maekar that help them. Who could the crowned prince trust more than his own brother, one who hardly had any desire to take claims upon another child especially one he did not sire with you. You’d never speak of it and perhaps it was the fact that you’d not properly see the child that that made the concept of Maekars child wandering around the Red Keep claimed as Baelor and Jenas own that made it easier for you. You could imagine the child just looking like Valarr did when he was a boy of Maekar’s seed sticks with Lady Jena.

Maekar would lay with his brothers wife in hopes of her getting pregnant and you and Baelor would remain in the room. That was how worry or uncertainly about what was going on could be avoided from trickling into the minds of you and Prince Baelor. Nothing between Maekar and Jena would be hidden, you’d both be present for it.

No jealousy could fester.

You sat on the lounger that faced the bed, Maekar had put you there. His hands rubbing up and down the sides of your arm whispering assurances in your ear.

“Husband,” you reach out to pat his chest as you sit against the cushions. Able to hear Baelor with Jena near the bed, helping her undress. Their lips must have locked a few times because you could hear the sound of feverish wet kisses. This could not be easy for him, acknowledging that he may not be able to fufill his duty to Jena and the realm but that his younger brother could? It was quite mature to allow this to go on, then again Prince Baelor excelled at taking things in stride. “I was the one who broached the topic.” You’d told him about Jenas sad voice and longing words and you’d been the one to mastermind this whole thing. “Just…” your fingers rubbed up to his jaw and you held him there a bit firmly as your voice lowered. “Let this be the only time it’s required.”

You were somewhat possessive of him, not jealous, you couldn’t be. You did not see ladies smirk at him or maids linger a moment to long. But you her possessive of his time. What he had of it, you wanted dedicated to you and your family. Ideally this could occur once and not need any further discussion.

Maekar ducked his head to kiss you, gently brushing your hair back from your face and when he pulled back he pecked the soft spot under your ear. “Are you telling me to ensure it takes?” You’d moaned that out to him countless times since deciding that your child baring years were done. Everytime he was powerless against the premise of holding you down and fucking his spend deep into you.

Thank the gods for moontea.

“yes.” You smirk chin tipped up towards his face and your teeth pressed into your plump bottom lip. “Be kind to her.” You warned him. You did not ask for details regarding Jena’s marriage bed but the little trickling she’s let slip I’ve the years of knowing one another had not been very scandalous. Then again it was not as if you had shared that Maekar had fucked you against every surface of Summerhall when you first married, or that you enjoyed when he left prints of his hand up and down your body…or that he had devoured you so Feverishly before that the Maester had to treat a rash on your inner thighs.

He watched your hand move from his upper body down lower, fingers shifting below his trousers with determination and he grunted as you squeezed his soft manhood. “Maekar?” He was leaning down because your voice was as soft as a whisper. His hands pulling the pants open so his now hardening cock could be free.

“hm? What is it my love?” He was stroking your jaw and guiding you closer to his prick now.

“you have to fuck me after.” You whispered, lips brushing against the excess skin around his tip. “You cannot be tierd, cannot be spent fully.” Tongue darting out to lick his tip as you pulled his foreskin back. “I wish to be the final women you are within tonight.”

How could he deny you? He didn’t dream of it and especially not when you were say there with his cock against your lips and tongue.

“I wouldn’t dream of anything less.” He brushed hair from your temple as your mouth opened properly. “I love you.” He said gently, I love you was really the only words that Maekar said that ever truly came out softly. You savored them. Every time, never took hearing it for granted.

“Good,” you smiled just a bit because he was pressing against the back of your tongue and you gave a soft gaged when he hardened fully and filled your throat with his length and girth. You pulled back eyes a bit watery from it and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand silently telling him that that ness was he was getting from you right now. He was hard, it was time for him to go to Jena.

“thank you.” Baelor said, and his weight pressing against the lounger had you slipping against the cushion. Making you a bit closer to him. “For being this generous.” He clarified as your partners could be heard getting into the bed and working out some awkward logistics. You thought you heard something about getting on their back.

“of course my prince.” You respond to him but he can see your attention is clearly on the bed. On picking up what exactly is occurring.

Your hand picks at the Cushion some when you hear a wet sound and then lady Jena contently sighing.

“I could dictate what’s happening, would that make you more comfortable?”

“yes.” You nodded quickly and Baelor smiled a bit at how you shoulders settled. He could see what goes on, you should know as well.

“Jena is laid agains the pillows, I already took her slip off.” His voice was smooth and you found it easy to get lost in.

“on her back?”

“yes, Maekar is just rubbing her folds now. He hasn’t touched her pearl yet.” Baelor’s throat bobbed and he leaned toward you some to whisper. “She loves to have that circled.” You exhaled with a shakiness that gave away to much of how you felt to him.

“he’s preparing her-“

“Aye,” Jena’s voice hummed softly. “Aye he is.” She moaned legs parting for her good brother more.

You smile slight, it was relief to know she was enjoying this that much. Maekar was quiet but you expected nothing less, that didn't alarm you. He’d been quiet with you for a great while too.

“he’s holding her knee now, brining it up to her chest…” the want in Baelor voice is thick. “She’s smiling.” He told you as a side bar. “She’s…” his voice cut own when Jenas gasp filled the room.

“she’s tight-fuck.” Maekar grunted and you gripped the cushion knowing that he was inside her now.

“Can you hear that?” Baelor asked brow raised as the bed creaked and Jena whined. Maekar was slowly rocking himself in and out of her cunt now.

You did not responded because the sounds had your own mind spinning. Your skirts move just slightly from your thighs squeezing together. What sort of women gets aroused from this? From her husband taking his good sister infront of the woman’s poor husband and you?

Baelor noticed, because he was a man who’s life depended on noticing things ever small changes in demeanor. “Maekar,” he spoke calmly and had to clear his throat some because his wifes groans were filling the room quite a bit. She sounded like she was begining to truly enjoy the new sensation, the strech that was different between her thighs then the one she was used to.

“Your wife needs tending.” Your heart pounds and you turn just slightly towards the end of the lounger you know the prince is at. Lips frowning and brow knitted because you did not want whatever state you were in to be announced the the room.

“Baelor is gentle.” Jena purred from under the anvil, her hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck hoping to pull him back into the moment because currently he was sitting up to high for her taste and it was making her worried his cock was going to come out of her. He was studying you, your breathing and your hands and the wrinkle of your skirt where your legs had pushed tightly together. And he saw Baelor, his brothers mismatched eyes filled with genuine warmth as he took you in, his brothers fingers inches from touching a stand of your hair that laid against the pillow his hand was resting upon.

Baelor had always been kind to you, welcoming. Maekar married you because he loved you deeply, was enamored by you and the two of you chose eachother. There was no court matter that was solved by the union or parents making arrangements to prevent a scandal. Maekar was the fourth son, he could marry a woman simply because he wanted to. That was the one privlage of his position. Baelor for one was grateful when you two finally married because he was driven half up the wall watching his brother navigate forgin emotions. Warmth and tenderness and flirting were not languages Maekar spoke and so Baelor, ever the generous older brother, provided him with a great deal of guidance as the ravens flew back and forth carrying the conversations that would one day blossom into your marriage.

“I am fine,” you tell Baelor in a low tone, a hushed one. You did not want to be the reason this ended before it finished properly. It would feel like you all made quite big fools of yourself if this event did not end with Jena pregnant!

“you, sister,” his finger raised slightly to loop around a strand of your hair. “Are aroused.”

“let him help her Maekar,” Jena tugged his hair a bit and brought him back to her chest. His face gliding easily along her smaller chest. Nose nudging a hardened peak. “It’s only fair.” That second comment stuck him. Fair. He was stoned deep writhing Jena…if you were needing release and he could not provide it he did not want to deny you the sensation.

“Maekar,” you swallowed raising your voice and he knew the tilt of his name in your mouth like this meant you were seeking permission. “I am quite wet.” You admit. Baelor holds back his chuckle but he does tick his tongue fondly at your sweet admission.

“Gentle with her Brother.” Maekar warned. Greatfully he did not know what sort of lover his brother was, and so he did not know that Baelors roughness hardly even reached the tip of Maekar’s normal efforts with you.

You moved your hands from your lap and swallowed the nervous in your throat as his hand got lost in the hair at the nape of you neck. Rubbing your scalp there and gently brining you closer until one of your hands had to touch his thigh because of your didn't you’d just collapse down across him. He was hard, your hand had of course accidents landed right against his covered prick. It felt warm even through the fabric and you clenched at the idea of feeling something new inside of you. Maekar is the only one that has ever touch you there. A visiting lord or eager stable boy might have stolen a kiss from your lips and grasped your chest when nobody was watching but nothing more. You’ve only know Maekar.

Even Baelors lips, which now were softly pressing against yours felt thrilling. A new sensation, a new taste and sound in his throat and a new breathing pattern that you were finally close enough to truly sense. His hand was on your jaw, turning you exactly as he wanted you to be. Keeping you positioned close to him and within kissing reach. His lips felt gentle and warm and they were as explorative as yours was.

“mmm” you made a small squak when his tongue slipped into your mouth. Baelor shifting his hand from your hair to your back to tuck you up and onto his lap. Settling your cheek against his shoulder and he rubbed softly at your face and the join of your knee as you straddled his lap.

“shh, you’ll worry him-you know how he startles.” Baelor whispered against your mouth and you nodded opening your lips a tad more so the two of you could kiss properly.

Maekar watched his brothers hands like a hawk. He’d flipped Jena onto her front and pulled her hips up until she should get her knees under her. His hips slowing to a a slower place, perhaps because he was distracted or perhaps because he did not want to finish before he saw how you and his brother played out. He knew if he spilled his seeds in Jena that Baelor would be up and by her side. Propping her up with pillows and whispering encouragements in her ear. He was to dutiful of a husband to chase his own high when she needed him.

“can you help me with my dress m’prince?” You could feel his lips turn up into a wide grin at the title and your face pressed against Baelors neck as his hand moved to the ties up and down your back. Undoing them diligently until the fabric opened and only your chemise was still around your properly.

“he’s watching you.” Baelor informed kissing your jaw. “Shall I turn you around so he can see.” You nodded tenderly and sat up some to help your good brother with the movement. Your bum now against his lower stomach, the buldge in his trousers pressing between your spread open legs and your head tucked in just under his chin.

“she’s so beautiful.” Jena mused. She was envious of your body, not because she disliked her own but because she already saw Baelors hands settling into spot of your that existed because you’d carrier six children to term. The dips of your hips and the warm spot under your hanging breasts. Nipples large and seeming permanently swelled.

“Aye,” Maekar’s hips snapped harder at the view of your legs cast over his brothers knees and your cunt on full display to the room. He wanted to be inside of you. He wanted to stand up grab your neck and ask you if you wanted him or Baelor to be inside of you. He’d gladly fuck you into Baelors lap. Let his brother see how good of a husband he was to you. “Fucks sake-“ his hands gripped Jena’s hips when she pushed back against his forward motion to meet his thrust. He looked down to see her cunt eagerly swallowing him up, pushing him deeper into her each time he bottomed out. He wrapped an arm under her to help the tilt of her hips, pressing against her stomach and making it easier for him to hit the gummy soft womb. He had to move deeper within her to reach it than he did with you.

He was so dizzy from the blood that rushed out of his head and to his other one due to Jena’s glorious movements that his vision stayed on your moving arse for some time, only looking up when he heard your shuttering gasp.

Baelor’s arm was wrapped under your own. Wrist pinning your left breasts to your chest as his hand over most of the right one. Cool rings making gooseflesh form all across your skin and your nose twitched when his two fingers pinched your nipple.

“ahh, Gods Baelor-faster.” Maekar blinked at your words and his eyes fell to your lap. To the sight of two of his brothers fingers curled up within your leaking cunt and his thumb easing back and forth against your engorged pearl. “Fuck!” Your teeth clench and Baelor lets out a laugh as his fingers curl inside of you. Kissing your shoulder after and looking to the bed and right at his brothers.

“I blame you for the language.”

“fuck off.” Maekar bit out and this time it was you that chuckled dryly between purring.

Your hips were so wiggly that Baelor considered moving so you were pinned below him. But that would be selfish…then Your partner on the bed would not get to gaze at you. He would have told you that everybody eyes remained on you but be worried that you might get shy about it. He could understand that. People watched him constantly and though he has his vision he could not manage to look everybody in the eyes and note who was watching and what their eyes gave away about what they saw before them.

Jena stopped watching first, because Maekar was getting rougher. Her face squished against the mattress as she moaned. Maekar was Fucking the future queen with a force that made Baelor question if he should have been the one making warnings about remaining gentle.

“Mmm, Baelor-“ you grabed the back of his head pulling him back to your shoulder and your lashes fluttered over foggy eyes. “Take you cock out.” The request was so polite, so demure and quiet and yet. You’d said cock and from the way you were grinding yourself against his hand he felt confident in thinking you wanted his length out so it could be buried inside of you.

“as the lady wishes.” He would lot argue, if Maekar was inside of Jena that surely there would be no issue with him in you.

“AHh!” You gasped at just the hot smack of his cock against your glistening slit after it had been freed from the confines of his breeches. “In…now-please quickly.” You babbled and pulled harder at the dark hair you knew Baelor had. He was always such a visual contrast to Maekar, tan with hair rich in color. You diddnt know that alot of it has gone grey. Though you could feel the that some sections of his hair had a corse texture.

“yes,” he dropped his grip on your breasts and reached down to hold your side as he guided his tip away from your clit and to your core. You sucked him in the moment the throbbing appendage breeched entry to your heat. “Seven hells.” His fingers flexed against the abundant flesh of your side and he kissed at your back. His beard tickling the skin there but you were to wraped up in the overwhelming sensation and thrill of the moment to notice the tickle.

“Does she feel n-nice husband?” Jenas voice came out broken because Maekar was slamming against her from behind, his hips making a smacking sound each time they collided with her round bottom and he had grabbed some of her pretty amber kissed hair and pulled it so she would look forward to see what exactly Baelor was doing to you. You took him well, his cock jutting up into you and coming out dripping wet each time. He was less thick than Baelor and so that made this easier for you but other things were a challenge. Not knowing where exactly to touch him, or how his cock curved, not being able to look down at him and see if you were moving to high or to fast. You didn't know his grunts like you knew Maekars. As frightening as those unknowns were it also was somewhat exciting. Touches you did not anticipate and vibrations in his chest that you didn’t see coming because you couldn’t see that his brow was laced together. That his mouth hung open because you were bouncing up and down against his cock with the help of his strong hands on your hips to keep the trajectory of your ride safe.

“she’s going to cum-“ Maekar wasn’t talking about Jena, he’d already felt her walls flutter and her body go lose, he just hadn’t announced it to the room.

He could see yours approaching from a mile away, feel it in his chest even thought he wasn’t the one brining you to the peak. Your neck tossed back, hands gripping Baelors arms and your mouth wouldn’t shut, the groaning was just one long continues delicious sound.

You nodded fast. He was right, you were so close, able to feel the feeling starting in your toes and spreading up your frame, circling in your stomach and you gripped harder at whatever you could.

“Baelor!” You gasped, he felt soft between your fingers. “Gods! Oh gods my prince!” You cried out just before the rope in your stomach was about to snap.

“Wife!” Maekar voice boomed and you were pushed backs blankets falling through your fingers and suddenly the room felt different.

“Wake up,” Maekar was touching your face, his calluses unmistakable. Your eye were open but felt tierd and your hand rose up to rub at crust in the corner of one. “What in the gods name were you dreaming about?”

You shifted a bit, getting used to being in your body again. You were dress, in your nightgown, the covered stuffed between your legs and you could feel your hair braided down your back. You were in Maekars chambers, not his brothers. Not naked in Baelor lap. You could feel the sleeve of Maekars sleeping tunic near your collar. He was not stripped bare to impregnate Lady Jena.

“I-“ you sat up at once realizing what had just occured. Or…rather what hadn’t. All that has been a dream. You shouldn’t have gone to bed with the thought in your mind. You had been laying there with Maekar thinking about Jena’s dilemma but not voicing it to your husband. You must have just…slipped off to sleep.

“are you-my love are you well?” He inquired because not that he was more awake he was noticing your strained breathing and fast pulse, the layer of sweat on you and the blankets that were pinned between your thighs.

“yes-“ you answer to quickly and start to scramble from the bed. “I just-excuse me.” He had see the flush down your neck as you scurry to the privy. He watched the door close and then dares to touch the blankets you were laid within. Wet, the scent of your cunt all over them. He could hear your fingers moving frantically through your folds through the bathing chamber door but opts for make no comment. He lays back and waits for you to return, with your need settled and appearance collected, and he tries not to reflect on that fact that his wife, you, had almost climaxed in your sleep while calling his older brothers name.

Series: Prequel, Prequel 2, One, Drabble(2), Drabble(3), four, five, six, Family Headcannons, Seven , eight, Nine *, Aerion’s head cannons

Maekar Masterlist

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“Rumours say the boy dancing with my daughter is your son.”

Your smile turned into surprise when you realised Prince Maekar Targaryen in the flesh was speaking with you. It was rare seeing the Prince entertain with guests; it was less rare seeing him sitting behind the Royal table with a judgmental frown.

“He is, Your Highness.” You answered after a quick bow.

“They are too young.”

“Too young for… dancing? Your Highness?”

“To propose to my daughter.” He snapped back with a gnashing tone, without even looking at you. He was too busy checking on his daughter to care about the offence caused by assuming your intention.

“It is not my son’s plan and neither mine.” You said with the same tone, leaving his title on the back of your tongue.

“Good.”

“Good.”

A thick silence fell between you as you both stood side by side, carefully ignoring each other. You were visibly annoyed by his assumption, but he didn’t care or didn’t realise it. Unable to put his position before his arrogance, you tied to the finger.

“Is your husband somewhere?”

“Would you like to ask him to stop my son from dancing with the Princess?”

“It was not my intention, but your suggestion is tempting.”

“I’m sorry, but it is not possible.”

“And why is that?” He asked sharply, frowning at you.

“My husband is at the family cemetery.” You served, meeting his gaze and enjoying the renewed thick silence, this time filled with the Prince’s embarrassment.

“My condolences.” He quickly said, moving his attention elsewhere.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

From time to time, some guests walked by and bowed at Maekar’s presence. He could hear them murmuring as their thirsty eyes tried to catch something from you two. The message sent was clear; Prince Maekar was caught by Lady Stark. It wasn’t his purpose, and neither yours, but it didn’t matter. He was entertaining himself with you for a long time now, and withdrawing could only confirm their suspicions.

“I can ask my son to stop dancing with the Princess if Your Highness desires.” You said then, satisfied with your little revenge and not wanting to make things worse.

Maekar considered it. It would have been her last banquet for years, and most likely, she would have left Summerhall only on her wedding day, if there ever was one. Her smile, though, and her belly laugh as she was having fun with that boy melted his daddy heart.

“No. Let them.” His jaw tightened as he spoke, but he felt strangely good in seeing your tiny smile.

The tension between you two eased enough for your boldness to come out with a question. Or better, half of it.

“Do you danc…”

“No.”

The speed with which he responded turned off your affability toward him, and the silence that fell among you once again was for the awkwardness that followed your half-question. You wanted to go away, but you couldn’t, not without the Prince’s dismissal. Unlucky you, Maekar was having his little revenge, or maybe — deep inside him — he was just glad of your company.

Your eyes, all for your son until that moment, moved casually around the hall, noticing the small groups of guests pointing their attention at you. Some of them were smiling, while others were shaking their heads in disapproval. You knew the reason was the Prince's presence next to you, but you couldn’t do otherwise.

“The party is magnificent. I wish His Highness Prince Daeron a happy life with the princess.” You said then, to distract yourself from the gossiping.

“Thank you… Lady Stark.”

It was the first time he used your title and your name, not to mention the tone of voice with which he thanked you. He sounded soft, or at least respectful. Very different from the beginning. You couldn’t help but stare, in surprise at first, but then you found yourself appreciating the little details of his face, the elegance of the outfit and his bearing, half from his military experience and half from his Royal origins.

You were still staring at him when another Lord approached bluntly.

“My Lady, spare me a dance?” He bowed and offered his hand.

Maekar’s reaction was instant. “Are you blind? Lady Stark is busy. Go away.” He barked.

“Yes, Your Highness.” The man bowed and disappeared.

It was a matter of seconds, but his little show dragged even more attention. The turmoil that it caused inside you was impossible to ignore, though. It’s been a while since you felt at the centre of someone’s attention, and it was pleasant… very much pleasant.

“Presenting themselves as if I weren’t here. Unacceptable.”

“Indeed, Your Highness.”

Your approval was enough to calm him down and focus on you again. Maekar was slowly realising how pleasant your company was, and the attraction he felt was most likely for your not-so-submissive behaviour.

“I do not dance because I think it’s a foolish and useless activity.” He said then, as if he wanted to justify his earlier rejection.

“Agree. But it is a good, harmless way to have physical closeness. Especially if there is a certain interest.”

Maekar frowned and snorted. “Ridiculous.”

“Is it, Your Highness?” You smiled widely.

The question remained unanswered because your son and the Princess stopped dancing, and now he was looking for you. You walked away, without the Prince’s permission, without taking leave, without greeting him properly.

kings landing was, by your own account, not as horrible if you were a married woman. No strolls with aging men or septas watching your ever breath. You were mostly free to do as you pleased, enjoy the lavish halls and so while Maekar was occupied with his duties the three of you enjoyed. You would take them, one little fist in each of your hands, first to the kitchens for a sweet bun. Then to the sept for prayer and then to the docks. Dangling their wiggly feet in the water and holding one of them on each of your legs as men fished in the distance. It was quite a calm slice of life that you’d found for the three of you considering the location.

When Aerion was three he thought he was a dragon. Legitimately a dragon. You told Maekar that this is what happens when everybody speaks of blood and wings and having dragons pulsing through them all the time. That a child would get confused. Of course the delusion wasn’t really alarming at that time. Honestly it was adorable it just could get tiring because aerion refused to be called by his name. Only dragon, or brightflame, which was the name of his little dragon stuffanimal that he’d had with him since the cradle. One of the nans managed to knit him a cloak that had a dragon shaped hood and he wore it almost every day rushing through the red keeps halls and pretending to flap his wings or breath fire onto visiting lords at supper. They were amused and you were charmed because he always would curl up in your lap and kiss your stomach. His father told him to get off of you, not needing you feeling slighted because your son thought you pudgy and surly pregnant. You knew it was because Aerion’s claimed there were dragon eggs inside you that needed to stay warm. That he was as just looking after them all. “You will always look after me won’t you my little dragon?” You’d muse and kiss his silvery hair while giving Maekar a look telling him to fuck off. You didn't mind being apart of his pretend play. You loved it.

It’s when you are finally granted return to Summerhall that Aerion finds out what happens when one of the dragons he believed were inside you starts to hatch. Your stomach gets bit and you feel unwell for a while and father takes him to his lessons because you can’t stand sitting upright for that long. Those are when the first threads of jealousy are planted within him. That’s when his performances good in the last stop being for others and begin to be directed right at you. Good and bad ones. His seemingly always full bucket of affection for you and his little fits of anger and loneliness. By the time you actually realized that his actions are a reflecting of missing you Aemon is pratically out of the womb. So you’re exhausted for a while running ragged with flooding hormones, a newborn and a son who doesn’t want to share his mother. You told Maekar a week before the fever came that you felt you’d found a good balance of all your duties, that aerion was warming to Aemon and would behave so long as you were with him even if it meant you had aemon swaddled against your other arm. Balance never really returned after the fever.

There is a point in his pubescent where the soft spot he has for his mother hardens. He idealizes his father more now. His father is who he wants to emulated because why would a boy who wants to be a man have to gain from sitting with their mother and talking with her? He could get strong by following his father, learn swears he never heard before by shadowing him and he could be trained by the anvil! He could get good enough that the next bastard that dares to ruin the Targaryen line will be scared when they see him on the field.