“good work today, chief.” dana tells him as she pats his back, ready to go home for the night now. “slow day but thank fucking god.” 

he snorts. “must be our lucky day, can’t say for the night shift.” 

“ha! you tell abbot that.” dana chuckles as she finally says goodbye to lena and the others as robby stares up to the central board, backpack on his shoulder, ready to leave as well. he’d already done the briefing with jack, so he doesn’t have anything else to do other than say his goodbyes or do an irish goodbye. today was a good but slow day. 

“bye lena, have a nice shift.” your airy voice flows through the room like the cool wind. robby’s gaze shifts to see you leaning against the nurse’s station while lena chats you up for a moment. you smile at her, all wide-eyed and sunshine in them. he doesn’t notice his lips tug up as he watches you wave your hand to whitaker, who awkwardly waves back, who’s still charting and munching on a sandwich. hopefully not leaving crumbs on his desk. 

and then your gaze sets to his, and he feels that pathetic tug on his heart which causes him to swallow it down. 

“dr. robby! you’re still here.” you lighten up even more, and he smiles… almost painfully. 

“yeah, still here.” he says. “just… uh, checking if we missed anything.” 

“i think we got everything right.” you say beside him, and he can smell your citrusy perfume, your signature scent. he slyly takes a good look at you, seeing you dressed up. he can’t help himself but enjoy these few minutes before you leave. 

“you going somewhere?” he asks. 

you turn to him, nodding. “couple of my girlfriends and i are going to the movies.” 

“well, don’t let me keep you here.” he sadly has to say as he smiles at you. “you did good today, by the way.” 

“i don’t know about that. nothing really happened today. which is weird, considering we’re always busy.” you laugh, and it sounded so nice to hear for him, especially after this slow shift. 

“you’re right. but you managed and taught most of our medical students today so you did good, sweetheart.” the nickname slips past his lips naturally. your smile sweetened at that, and he noticed it. all innocent and kind. 

“good enough for your recommendation letter, then?” you joked, and he rolled his eyes playfully. he couldn’t be prouder that you’re almost completing your residency. you’re the best resident he’s had other than langdon… which he doesn' t want to think about him right now. 

“don’t get too excited now, you still got another year stuck with me being your boss.” he smiled, eyes crinkling. 

“whatever you say, chief.” you giggled. “well, goodnight, dr. robby.” 

“yeah, goodnight. have fun.” he painfully has to say as you leave his side. the whiff of your citrus scent slowly leaves as well. he takes a deep breath as he sighs, still looking up to the central board, with no thoughts of checking it again. just quietly staring and brooding as he finally turns to leave the pitt.

・゜゜・．

the city lights of pittsburgh welcome him as he rides through the highway on his bike. helmet on today, which was a relief if anyone saw him. the wind blows through the night as he finally parks at a corner street before hopping off and walking towards where his guilty pleasure is. the sex shop was like a picture back in the 90’s, neon signs glowing: red, green, blue, pink, and that. the familiar provocative signage of a woman’s leg further deepens the shame in him as he adjusts his backpack on his back before heading in. 

it was dim, a few people are in here, most of them were sleazy looking men… just like him. well, maybe he’s the better half of that, but still a miserable and lonely man. he guessed some are married, some single, no wife and kids like him. others are teenage boys who are giggling in the far corner, browsing through the porno magazines. he’s surprised that they still sell that despite the decline because of the wonders of the internet and shit. 

he sets off to look around the endless shelves of magazines. wondering what his poison is for tonight or maybe he’ll head to the booths for some peep shows, jerk off and enjoy. as long as he doesn’t go home yet, and be met with silence he’s known since god knows when he started letting himself go. the women on the magazine are all dolled up in heavy makeup, tits out, poses that let him see everything, but he can’t feel the stir in his cock yet. 

well… he’s still not that old to have an erectile dysfunction, right? no, he’s old enough that maybe that’s the reason why he’s not turned on yet. or maybe it’s because the women on the covers are not- 

he stops himself for a moment with that impending thought. 

he habitually wipes his hand down his mouth and beard, a habit that he does when he’s trying to repress himself or calm down. he does not want to think about what he’s been trying to not imagine since… fuck him, he tells himself. trying to. he manages to joke miserably. he reluctantly grabs a random magazine, flicking through the pages as he tries to immerse himself in the pictures that are supposed to entice him. 

he should have just suckered up and watched porn on his phone. he thinks now. 

“didn’t know women came here. look.” one of the young boys whispers as he hears them from the side. 

“no shit, dude. what are you, 80?” one of the other boys says back sarcastically, and he can’t help but feel amused at that. he looks up… he should not have looked up actually. 

loe and behold were you…  

in the same sex shop. 

as him. 

you. 

his resident… his fucking resident. 

in a sex shop. in this sex shop. 

his eyes almost fell out as he quickly ducked to the other isle, much further from the entrance as he stayed still and hid there like a fucking idiot. fuck, fuck, fuck, she didn’t saw me, right? he panicked. and the most important question popped in his mind. 

what the hell were you doing here? 

i mean it was already self-explanatory… but you out of all people- he’d settle for whitaker or ogilvie, maybe even ellis or mckay…or anyone… but you?

he slyly looked up, peeking over the shelf, he’s tall enough to do that without his whole face showing as he tracks your every move. and there you are, walking in the other aisle, moving to the counter. face all serious and quiet as you ignore the several stares when you pass by those sleazy-looking men. he suddenly wants to kick their asses the way their eyes looked at you like you’re one of the magazines they’re holding in their hands. fucking pigs.

it’s really you. 

same cute outfit on, the one you wore after that slow shift. he’s definitely not hallucinating, it's you talking to the cashier at this instant. 

what happened to the movies with your girlfriends? he had to wonder… did the ‘movies’ entail this? he’s curious where you’re going as the cashier hands you something, and you move away. he follows his gaze where you’re going, and he’s utterly shocked to see you get in one of the booths for the peep shows. 

movies, huh? he lets out a low chuckle to himself as he wipes his face. fuck, he didn’t expect this at all. what was he expecting, really? you, the sunshine that you are. always greeting people with a shy smile, tending to patients so kindly that gloria can fuck-off with those ‘patient satisfaction scores’ when you’re already doing that. he never once heard about your romantic escapades no matter how cunning princess or perla are trying to suck it out of you. you’re a great doctor- one of the best that he’s had the opportunity to guide. 

and now he’s seen this new side of you. 

in a sex shop for fuck sakes. 

oh, god- he wonders… he wonders what you’re watching now behind the booth. behind that closed door. and he feels blood rush all over his body. to his ears, apples of his cheeks, neck, and… 

oh, fucking hell. he looks down, there’s a slight bulge in his pants. out of all instances- god, this was hilarious. a wash of shame envelops him. he can’t be thinking of what you’re watching right now- whatever porn movie you’re indulging in, he doesn’t have the right to know. it’s your privacy. and he doesn’t want to stay here any longer when you come out of the booth and see him here. 

see him being miserable and horny like these sleazy pigs. 

he walks out of the sex shop in a haste. he quickens his steps when he’s outside, being met with the cold air that doesn’t help his shame. 

what a night, huh? 

・゜゜・．

the day after was hard. 

really hard for him. 

he spent all night under the shower, a cold shower to get rid of his… problem. he’s mortified- mortified in a sense that his ‘reaction’ stemmed from the fact that he saw you in a place where he thinks you should not belong. was it the absurdity of it that made him hard as a fucking rock? that you, the kind woman that you are, who he thought of as innocent as a feather be in a place housed in filth and pleasure? 

sexist, much? the little voice in his head berates him. 

it was not like that… he tells himself. just that- it’s you. 

the woman he’s been trying hard not to think of. he’s already got a bad wrap in the dating scene. everyone in the hospital knows about his messy escapades. he’s a walking red flag, he knows that. he’ll get what he wants then leave when things get serious. he even got slapped in the face when this one nurse he was ‘dating’ told him how much of a asshole he was to fuck and run. and to add that, you’re his resident, who is almost completing your residency. 

and he would not do that to you. 

saviour-complex as they say. but isn’t he doing the bare minimum by leaving you alone? he doesn’t fucking know. all he knows is that he can’t, he won’t, and he needs to grow up and move on. 

and no matter how much he wanted to see you smile at him, just the two of you. hear your laughter near his ear as he buries his face in the warmth of neck. your citrusy scent enveloping his nostrils, making him feel all calm and at peace. or your gentle hands that will cup his face, telling him he deserves to be here. that he deserves to be with you. 

a man could only dream, right? 

now these thoughts sparked even more the fact that he’s got a glimpse of you’re hiding. that you have needs, needs that he can satisfy… and he wonders what you were watching. was it soft porn? do you like it soft and gentle? or maybe passionate and raw. or… fuck, maybe even hardcore and that kinky shit. hell, he can do that if you want to. 

no, no, no, no- he has to stop himself right now. 

the grip he has on the ipad he’s holding tightens as he sets it down on the desk. he removes his glasses, leaning back as he sighed. today’s shift was already busy, a complete opposite of yesterday. and he’s glad because that means he won’t be interacting much with you today. he’s got interns to teach, and you as well. with the number of trauma cases coming in, he hopes he won’t have to meet your eyes and feel the shame in him. or stand close near you and get a hard-on. 

“you’re looking rough today.” dana quipped behind him, busy looking at her own ipad. 

“aren’t i everyday?” robby manages to joke, almost mirthfully. 

dana looks at him through her own reading glasses, seeming to eye him up and down. “hmm, you’re right. but you look like you can use a drink with that face of yours, robinavitch.” 

he manages to huff out a laugh. “oh, you have no idea, dana.” he finally stands up, ready to take the day on and forget about last night. “you have no fucking idea…” 

dana casts him one last judging look before shrugging at him. he leaves, already being called to trauma 2 as he sighs. 

・゜゜・．

for the rest of the days that followed, he avoided you like the plague. maybe a quick ‘hello’ or consult here and there, but he didn’t linger longer than he used to do with you- joking and talking about whatever topic was in hand. he avoided you like you were gloria. some people wouldn’t mind about this sudden and actually very minuscule shift in the air. although, of course the one who noticed it happened to be the most known observant man in his life that will point it out to him out of the blue. he’s actually frightened the way jack does these things like this almost accurately.

“you’re very weird today.” is the opening liner jack says as they do their handoffs. 

“…i don’t know what you’re talking about.” is his most obvious reply that seals the deal with jack abbot’s accurate suspicions. 

“do i have to point it out in the open, brother?” jack stares at him, holding the chart in his hand that’s deprived of his attention. robby sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

so… he tells him in a whisper… in an empty trauma room for privacy. but his nerves are on fire as he looks out in the windows, hoping you’re not near. and all he got from jack was a hum and a very amused look. 

“am i fucked up?” robby asks him, worried. 

“100%.” jack immediately says, and robby glares at him. although point-taken. “i mean, i understand… why were you in a sex shop in the first place?” 

he shoots him a pointed look. 

“okay, okay. self-explanatory, i know.” jack raises his hands up in defense. “so… let me put this straight. you’re acting all weird around her because you saw her in that place. normal reaction, probably the most common. but… the other added reason, i might add, is that you get bricked up thinking about it? well, that’s… fucked up-“

“don’t have to be an asshole about it, i’m fucking dying here just- just thinking about it!” he stops himself from raising his voice. “it’s her… in that shop.”

“sheesh, i know you like the woman, man. didn’t know you liked her so much that you think she’s too innocent to be there.” jack whistles, very much liking hearing him getting tortured. “but hey, soon you’ll forget about it. try not to think about it most of the time.” 

“that’s the problem. are you even listening?” 

“excuse me, what else do you want me to say?” jack has the audacity to be offended. “should i say, ‘oh! yeah, man, of course. she shouldn’t be there in the first place. that’s why you’re like this.’ look, i’m not someone who’d shame anyone for tapping into their… sexual fucking needs.” 

robby lets out an exasperated sigh. jack was right, of course. all the time, in fact. 

“robby, my brother. i admire you for not jumping on her like you usually do with the poor women who’ve crossed your path. means she’s special, right?” jack consoles him, and robby nods. you are special. the most special thing he doesn’t want to fuck up. 

“she is.” robby whispers, and jack smiles at him. 

“well, don’t fuck it up if you ever want to actually be with her. this kind of thing… it’s normal to be weirded out, of course. you saw her in a new perspective. but you gotta get in your head that everyone does this shit. not just you going into a… sex shop.”

“you’re not gonna let this go, are you?” he eyes him, and jack shrugs before patting his shoulder. yeah, he’s not gonna let this go the next time robby teases him, and jack has something to fire on to ridicule him. 

“we all got our needs, man. no judgement here. just that you got pulled into a hilarious situation that you do know you can just forget about, and not be weird around her.” jack finally says before leaving him alone in the room. “you know… try to repress yourself if you can’t take it anymore.”

robby actually feels a little lighter. and by the window, he finally spots you by the nurse’s station. you greet jack with a smile before your gaze lands on him. his heart started to beat uncontrollably, thinking you know he was there that night. but no… you wave at him shyly. he can’t help but wave back, finally letting his shame go. letting the curiosity of what you watched that night go. you’re here, being normal with him. and you didn’t know he was there, and you certainly did not know about his… hard dilemma. 

it was that easy, told you so. jack’s voice echoed in his head as he finally exited the trauma room. with a plan set in motion of how he’ll regulate himself. 

・゜゜・．

he took it to heart what jack suggested. 

he distanced himself from all things sexually. from jerking off, watching porn, going to the sex shop, and thinking about you in that sense. he was doing good for the first few days… felt refreshing, like he’s transformed into a young man again. or maybe he finally accepted that he’s old and his dick’s not gonna work the same way it used to be. that he’s reached the state of pure nirvana and peace. matter fact, maybe he can switch careers, and become a priest or monk for how long he’s been celibate. 

yet… it got hard after talking to you in those days. 

really hard that whenever you look at him, he can’t help but think about what you’re doing behind closed doors… or booths. that he’s suddenly hyperaware of every blink of your lashes, tiny things that suddenly make him want to run to the nearest bathroom. how you wet your lips when you talk to him about this one patient who- who he gives no fucks right now, and just quietly admires your face. the face he wonders what it would look like if he drops down and eats you- okay, stop. 

he’s not ignoring you anymore, that was a good change. but the cost of that was him torturing himself that he thinks he might be into edging if this was the case. 

you’d like that, wouldn’t you? okay, stop, again. 

and now he turns to other mundane and boring things to avoid his hand from reaching down there when he’s home. he’s off on sundays, and he actually doesn’t work harder in the ED like he usually does because you’re there, so he starts jogging. he does wordle, rides around the city in his motorcycle more often, do some yoga (he finally listened to abbot but minus the nakedness), read more books, and maybe smoked a cig here and there just to busy himself. 

and like all hard times, he breaks. he’s just a man, after all. 

on a cold sunday night he drives downtown to the familiar place of sin. he did not want to go here again knowing you come here. but maybe that night was a one time thing, right? maybe you did it out of curiosity and need. a need he can satisfy- fucking hell. and all honesty, he does not know a similar sex shop like this one that houses the nostalgic magic of porn magazines and peep shows. or maybe deep inside, he thinks you’ll be here. but he quickly shuts down that thought, 

so, he goes in, feeling a little out of place after a week of repressing himself. he just needs to watch something, something that will scratch his hard itch, and he can go back to torturing himself. he heads straight to the counter, and inquires about the booths in an awkward manner. the young cashier looks at him with disinterest, and tells him the price and gives him this sort-of coin after he pays, saying that he’ll have to insert it into the machine once he gets in. and now he waits awkwardly outside one of the booths, it seems like a busy night considering all of the others are locked as well. 

so he waits… awkwardly. 

he considers buying a magazine and getting the hell out of here. but the sound of the door opening finally makes him feel relieved. until… 

“dr. r-robby?” he’s met your wide-eyed expression and soft voice of surprise. the smell of your perfume envelops his nose as his cheeks turned bright red. 

oh, fuck. 

he freezes, and stares right back at you with the same wide-eyed expression until moments later you pull him into the booth, and he still can’t process what just happened. the door clicks shut, and he quickly turns around to be with you in this dim space… with the sound of soft moans coming from the little glowing screen which makes his whole entire face get even warmer. he stares at the porn on the screen, the soft moans come from the man being fucked the hell out by the woman riding him. the woman berates the man under her, telling him how much of a filthy fuck he is. oh wow. this is what you like to watch? 

“i-i should go-“ robby turns away from the screen, gaze stuck to you, trying his best not to get affected by what he just watched. the porn you just watched. 

“this is awkward…” you finally say, back pressed against the door, and you eye him up and down. 

“listen, we can forget about this. i never saw you here, you never saw me here, i never saw you last-“ he has to stop himself with the way he just slipped out a crucial secret. but you immediately clock on to it as you raise a brow at him. freudian slip, as they say. 

“you saw me in here before?” 

if jack was here, he’d be laughing at his face right now. or worse… looking disappointed. 

“i-“ robby doesn’t know what to say. he’s too frazzled, knowing blood just rushed down to his cock when he notices a small smirk appear on your lips. “…yeah. i’m sorry. it’s a public space… i didn’t- i didn’t mean to see you here at all.” 

soft moans run in the background, and he feels ashamed as he tries to hide his hard-on from you in a discreet way. 

“…so that’s why you’ve been weird around me.” you hum, and took a step closer to him. robby stays still, looking at you carefully. he doesn’t see you grimace or get disgusted just by looking at him. your expression was hard to decipher. were you mad at him? 

“yeah… sorry.” he lets out an awkward huff of laughter. trying to appear calm and collected. you don’t say anything for a good minute, just quietly staring at him. 

“are you hard right now?” 

huh? 

“w-what?” he stuttered. you look at him with a blank stare before gesturing down his pants. 

“i asked… are you hard right now?” 

another flush of blood rushes down at your tone. he can feel his whole body turn hot. the little booth was suffocating, and if he takes one step closer, your chests could brush against each other. robby lets another awkward laugh as he scratches the back of his head. he looks down, and there’s an evident tent on his crotch which further makes him feel disgusting. here he was, inside a peep show booth with his resident, and he’s fucking hard as a rock. 

“i need to… go.” he finally says, dropping the coin on the ground as moves past you. your passive expression breaks as you reach for him, tugging on his sleeve, and he almost shudders when your fingers touch his skin. 

“robby, wait.” your soft voice further makes him want to leave. it’s gentle, laced with no malice whatsoever. but to him, he thinks the worst. 

“i-i’ll see you tomorrow, okay? and i’m sorry, sweetheart. i…i didn’t mean to-“ he cuts of his words as he exits the booth in a haste again, just like the first time. he can hear you call out for him, but he shakes his head, walking even faster to get on his motorcycle and drive away. 

and he leaves you standing outside of the sex shop, and doesn’t notice the glint in your eyes as you watch him ride away. 

・゜゜・．

he stands very still in a trauma room. watching closely as whitaker and javadi treat a patient who got in for chest pain, and long after had a heart attack as they predicted. he’s just waiting for garcia to come down here, and he can move on to the next patient. he’s been on edge all day after last night. he could not sleep thinking about you and him in that tiny booth. his mind can’t shake that moment… 

are you hard right now? 

if he could fling himself off the roof right now, that would end his suffering because he could not calm his dick down after that. the only thing that could keep his mind from repeating that was to work, and he has been working for the past 6 hours into his shift. and he has been very adamant on not passing by you at any point and time. but the problem? 

you seem to be normal and more present wherever the hell he is. but the ED is a small space, what was he expecting anyway? 

he gets out of the trauma room once he briefed garcia of the patient’s stats and passed on to her. he goes to every available room and ward he’s needed, and when he finally stops by the nurse’s station to check the central board… of course you were there as well. and he almost lets his emotions out of his serious facade when you greet him with a smile that didn’t seem so innocent as before. or maybe he’s just being paranoid. 

“hi, dr. robby.” you say, looking up to the board as well. he doesn’t say anything back, only a hum as he tries his best not to look at you. “you good?” 

he wants to kill himself. 

“never better.” he manages to say sarcastically without sounding pathetic like last night. from the corner of his eye, he can see you looking right at him with a smile. 

“good.” you grin, and pass by him with a touch on his shoulder. he feels the hair on his skin go up at your warm touch as you leave him alone. 

good? 

…good? there’s a million thoughts running through his mind about what you mean by that. he finally looks at your retreating figure, and sighs. he’s not gonna have a nice day, is he? 

half of the hours after that spent him avoiding you, but you manage to find him everywhere he goes. you smile at him, almost like cheshire cat filled with mischief, and stand too close whenever you get the chance to ask for a consultation. there’s one instance when the two of you are treating a trauma patient, and every brush of your shoulder to his, and the feel of your body next to him has his mind going in circles. and when you pull away, you always leave with a soft smile at him, and he knows he’s about to explode. 

he goes straight to the nearest bathroom an hour left before his shift ends. he can’t do this anymore as he tries to repress every thought of you away before the semi-bulge in his pants start to become more noticeable. were you trying to tease him? he thinks, but he doesn’t have a clear indication of that. he closes his eyes for a moment, thinking of anything that will turn him off. he feels so frustrated that he’s considering drowning himself in the toilet. 

the door suddenly opened, and his eyes widened. he forgot to lock it… again. 

“robby? you okay?” your soft voice makes him groan as he turns to you. feeling irritated as he lets out a sharp breath. 

“not the time.” he grits out, and you stand there, assessing him before shutting the bathroom door and locking it. what the fuck are you doing now?

“what are you doing-“ 

“you didn’t answer my question last night.” you cut him off. 

robby shakes his head in disbelief. “sweetheart, this is not the place we should be talking about that.” 

“when will we ever talk about it, then?” you eye him, and the softness of your tone turns serious. he suddenly stiffens. “it’s a yes or no question, robby.” 

he fights back, trying to stay rational and authoritative. “i’m your attending-“ 

“yes or no?” your voice drops with authority. that you're fed up with his nonsense. he blinks, his resolve finally breaking as he runs a hand down his mouth. 

“yes.” he breathes out. and the two of you fall quiet as he looks at your expression, yet your face remains passive just like last night. you stare at him, and he finally gets a semblance of what you’re feeling right now as your gaze falls down to his bulge.

“good.” you praise him at last, and his cock jumps at that. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“…this is completely inappropriate.” 

“shut up.” you glare at him, taking a step closer to where he’s standing. “i think we’re way past appropriate with the way you’ve acted around me since… forever, robby.”  

he genuinely feels ashamed. “i-“ 

“did you like what i was watching last night?” your airy tone comes back, and he has to say no and get the hell out of here. “answer me, robby.” 

but he nods. “yeah.” 

“good. you’ve been good now, aren’t you? answering me truthfully.” you cooed, and he likes the way you praise him. “…you know, i thought you were just being very kind, like the good man that you are. always there for your residents and patients, but you always had a soft spot for me, don’t ‘ya?” 

…fuck, you knew he likes you? since when? his thoughts spiral as you’re getting closer to him. 

“i really liked it, robby. i can say that i really liked you until you started acting weird all of the sudden. that pissed me off.” you pout, and he wants to say sorry, but he stays silent as he watches your every move until you’re so close to him, he can feel your breath. you like him? his heart beats loudly as his cheeks turn red. 

“then i understand now why you suddenly changed… i thought you were disgusted by me-“ 

“i could never be disgusted with you, sweetheart.” he replies almost instantly. he had to assure you because seeing you frown made him weak. “i’m the disgusting one-“ 

“shh, none of that.” you say as your hands cup his cheeks and he lets out a tiny breath. “…i really liked it when you’re like this… so obedient and willing. you needed a little push, huh?” 

“i-i-“ he doesn't know what to say, but the softness of your hands lulls him. 

“yeah, huh? i think you deserve something special from me.” you cooed, your hands dropping down to his chest. he stares at your lips as you grin at him. 

he lunges forward, taking you in a heated kiss as you let out a noise of surprise as you kiss him back with the same energy. he grips the back of your neck to keep you steady while your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. his knees buckled as he held you close, desperate to taste you as his tongue nudged your lower lip to let him in. you moan as your tongues clash with each other. the kiss was so messy and hot that it made him feel like he had a fever. 

you like him. god, you like him. 

robby almost whines when you suddenly pull away. both of your chests are heaving as you look at each other with heavy gazes. you grin as you wipe your mouth, savoring his taste and he licks his lips. 

“i was waiting for so long for you to make a move… but i’ll settle for this.” you suddenly say, and robby almost laughs until you drop to your knees in front of him. 

“sweetheart, w-we still have an hour until- oh, fuck-“ your hands fumble with his belt. he clenches his fist as he lets you do whatever you’re doing that he knows is downright wrong to be doing in a hospital bathroom. 

“shut up or i’ll stop, okay?” you look up at him, and he nods desperately. you unclasp his belt then immediately unzipped him. you don’t waste time to tease him as you pull the band of his boxers down until his cock sprang out. he hears you let out a tiny breath of surprise, seeing his cock jump out red and angry. 

“oh my.” you laugh as you grip him. he stares down, seeing you admire his cock as you spit on his tip all of the sudden. he shudders, biting back a moan as your hand starts to jerk him off. good god, he hasn’t touched himself in a week, and he swears he’ll cum any moment at your ministrations. “it’s so big, robby. you’re so big.” 

he lets out a tiny groan in response as you continue to jerk him off with a smile. 

“aww, how long have you been holding yourself out? it’s so red on the tip and so hard…” you say sweetly as you kiss the head. 

robot stutters. “i-i’m not gonna last long. s-shit-“ 

you suddenly stop your movements, and look up at him disapprovingly. “don’t you dare or i won’t let you cum.” 

he panics. “i’ll be good! i promise… it’s just that i haven’t- uhm-“ he’s too embarrassed to say it. 

you giggle. “aww, then you’ll have to try harder not cum, okay?” 

robby nods sadly. “okay.” 

“good.” you praise him, and he twitched in your hand. you kiss his tip again, peppering kisses all over his cock as the other cups his heavy balls. he almost dies when you finally take his tip into your mouth and suck lightly. he had to bite down on his fist to not moan loudly. or else both of you are fired if anyone caught you two. a resident sucking off their attending, what an image. 

you welcome him into your mouth as his hands flies down to your head. not grabbing it, but only holding you gently to guide you. you bob your head, moaning around him, liking the way he feels on your tongue. all big and stuffed. he lets out tiny sounds of pleasure as you continue to suck him off. 

“i-i’m close, fuck, i’m so close. i’m sorry-“ tears wet his eyes at the immense pleasure you’re giving. 

your mouth pops when you pull back, and he lets out a low whine. “that’s okay, baby. you’ll just have to make it up for me later. you’re so good for saying sorry.” 

“y-yeah?” he asks breathlessly, and your hand moves up and down on his cock. it’s all sticky and messy from your mouth and his precum. your hands feel so good around him. 

“yeah.” you grin and take him in your mouth again. this time you suck him off more harshly making him groan as he holds your head gently. his hips buck as he mutters jumbled words as he feels his balls tighten, almost near. 

“oh god, yeah- yesyesyesyes, please-“ he whispers as you feel him shoot out his release. thick white hot ropes of cum keep flowing in your mouth as you swallowed it all. his chest heaved as knees buckled at the intensity of his release. he slowly pulls out of your mouth as you cough a little as he sees some of spend drip at the corners of your lips. he feels all warm and sweaty seeing you on your knees, mouth full of cum as you swallowed it all with a satisfied look on your face. 

he helps you stand up as he tucks his flaccid cock back in his pants. he suddenly feels all shy as you lean up to peck his lips. 

“you were so good, robby.” you tell him sweetly. “but i think you can do so much better than that, right?” 

he should be saying that this was wrong, but to hell with that now. “let me make it up to you, please.” he begs as he kisses you again. you grin against his lips as you smirk at him. it’s as if you planned this from the start. but robby’s too fucked-out and smitten with the way you’re in his arms right now. 

“take me home, then.” 

・゜゜・．

haha, edged y’all.

okay… for jack abbot i’m thinking about shy!reader who has a crush on him but who doesn’t want to act on it because of hr, work-romance relationship problem, and the fact that he’s your attending, so power dynamic problem! you made peace with it, of course, and you subconsciously build up a wall between you and jack. your interactions are mostly work, borderline acquaintances.

and the breaking point of this is when jack sees the side of his shy resident break one shift by a certain doctor… robby. HAGSHWHW. okay, maybe a tiny bit of reader x robby in there. you flirt, you’re talkative, almost relaxed when robby’s talking to you this one shift. and jack is suddenly aware of that, and thinks about why you’re the opposite with him. like is there something wrong? did he do something? because almost all of his residents don’t act the way you do. so he tries to find out in the most jack abbot way… tries to talk to you more (by what i mean is staring more and doesn’t notice he’s intimidating with it lol), but ultimately reader kinda panics in the inside and refuses to even meet his eyes because of this sudden shift. (like why is my attending crush suddenly trying to be close with me?) and blah, blah, maybe jack gets to know more of you through this and decides he wants to change your dynamic cuz he’s lowkey jealous in the inside of how you interact with robby. boom! messy and feelings all around (sexual tension heavy as well, and i’m still thinking about what messy breaking point i can do that’s hilarious… and smutty.

now for doctor michael robibemybitch, i’m thinking smut. literal smut. it’s all i can think of for him right now. and it’s the most bizarre smut scenario cuz i just watched a french erotic film lol.

like you’re his senior resident, all innocent presenting like the literal most sunshine and kind resident he’s known… and he suddenly meets you one lonely night (he’s miserable of course) in a sex shop (you know those sex shop that has peep shows and porno magazines like very 80’s type of shit) and sees you go into one of the booths for the peep shows (not necessarily live action but watching a porn movie), and he’s turned tf on.

he sees you the day after, the star resident that you are, and he can’t help but be intrigued and curious what else you’re hiding beneath this facade you have. and he lowkey wants to be the one you show your sexual side to him, but oh nooooo! he can’t, he’s your attending! boohoo. but that makes the sexual tension all the better when you catch him on a different night that he’s in the same sex shop with you. ensue to him trying to repress himself and shi, and you can’t take the sexual tension anymore. 🫪

okay, that’s all, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

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. 

“about the man knocked out in the hallway…” 

“the rabbit will be fine.” 

・゜゜・．

you roll your eyes hearing your little sister whisper with her friends in their little circle. the hall was being prepared for the feast tonight, and you couldn’t interrupt the servants cleaning it up by lounging there. your room was suffocating as it is, and the solar was your only place of refuge. which so happens your younger sister decided to pull her circle of friends in the wrong moment. 

“should we do it?” her friend asked, too giddy. 

“we should!” her other friend excitedly exclaimed. 

your sister and her friends giggle loudly as they blabber about who they think might appear when they do the ‘ritual.’ the book you’ve been reading becomes boring as you try to become immersed in it. the sound of their giggles and hushed whispers continue to annoy you as you finally let out a loud sigh. they didn't stop, and you stood up, deciding to take a quick walk around the hall to see what the fuss was about this feast being prepared tonight. it was all hushed whispers from your father to your mother. about how important it was to have quality meat and use the best ingredients even if it will cost a month’s worth of coin. 

scandalous, you think. your mother merely told him that if all of you were to die of hunger the next month, it’s on his head. 

ridiculous. you think next, remembering your father told her that if they do not make a good first impression, then the family might not live to see another generation. 

absolutely confusing is what you think now. who are they inviting later anyway? 

the hallways are even busy as well, and as you step in the grand hall, although not really grand, the chaos is what you expected. you see your mother in the middle of it, servants usher to her, asking where to place this and that, where should the main table be placed, and if they should inquire for more cutlery since the silver they have doesn’t fit for the amount of people coming tonight. your mother answers them all with quickness and patience. and her eyes land on you at the very moment you’re about to leave. a single gesture of her finger makes you stop as you come towards her with reluctance.

the servants around her disperse once you finally stand before her. your mother suddenly has the look of worry and nervousness you can’t quite understand why. 

“i need you at your best tonight.” she stresses, and you cannot argue with her seeing the seriousness etched across her face. “tonight will be an important shift for our house- for this family. your father talked about this a million times so i need you to be prim and proper, and help your siblings be ready.” 

you’re about to ask why, but she cuts you off. 

“you are my most established child, girl. i need your help with this because i am this close to slapping your brothers for not taking my words seriously. do you understand?” your mother’s tone grows desperate, and you blink dumbly and nod.

“…may i ask who’s coming, mother?” you finally uttered out your impending question. your mother had the audacity to look at you like some fool, as if they didn’t tell you about who the important guests are. 

“the princes of house targaryen, child!” 

ah. you now know why this feast seems such a chaotic shithole now. 

・゜゜・．

“ow!” your little sister winces in pain as you tie her hair into a neat updo. she winces again when you finally place the hairpin in her updo to secure it at last. 

“hold still or i’ll ruin your hair. mother needs us in the hall after this.” you say plainly as you step away to take a good look at your doing. your sister huffs as she pouts. 

“will i be able to go to bed before midnight after this?” she asks, and you shrug. 

“possibly.” you say with a tease, knowing about her little ritual she wants to do. 

“it’s no fair! i don’t want to go! i thought mother said this dinner was for old people!” you roll your eyes as she crosses her arms. 

“old you say, huh?” you mumble as you gesture to her to stand up. she reluctantly stands with a pout and frowns as she follows you outside of the bedchamber. you carefully fluff up the sleeves and skirt of your gown while your sister tails behind you. you two finally head in the hall, and are stunned to see how… marvelous the once grey hall it was. candles… beeswax, not tallow, are everywhere. making the hall look warm while the food is already sitting on the long tables, enticing and delicious. it’s roasted ribs and you can smell spice that you never smelled before. possibly imported from essos. new silverware you can tell are placed neatly, and the seats are polished. 

you wonder how much coin was spent to make this feast possible. 

your father and mother are already briefing your older brothers, which seems to be more serious than what your mother said to you earlier. you usher your sister and told her to stop pouting as your mother released a sigh of relief seeing you. 

“thank the sevens you two are here now!” she exclaimed loudly. “see! your sister knows how to dress herself, while you three buffoons can’t even tell what colors don't go together!” 

your older brothers rolled their eyes as you patiently waited for further instructions from your parents. 

“this feast is important. proper appearances are a must, we are welcoming royals into our home. princes! the hand of the king at that!” your father blabbered as he tells you all about what it means to have a direct alliance with the crown itself. and he hopes tonight and the days they’ll be staying will be fruitful. for they will take a look at the prosperous town your father has been keeping steady, and the port that’s been the main interest. for it’s easier access of trade routes to dorne and the nearer lands of essos. 

and now you all stand in the courtyard, lined up as you hear the trumpet blaring loudly as hooves of horses are heard arriving. you see your father inhale sharply as you spot the banner of house targaryen between the arriving people on horses. it’s intimidating, you confess to yourself, seeing how much a banner could install a sense of unease in all of you. you can see the black armour of their soldiers and two white ones with capes, the kingsguard. and then finally, you see the familiar face of the young prince baelor. the oldest of the princes come into view. he’s handsome, short dark curls rest on his head. not of silver which made him the unique one. 

the stewart announces him as prince baelor stops his horse with ease before mounting off. the stable men react quickly to guide the horse to stables. the stewart then announced the name of prince aerys, who’s long silver hair catches your eyes. a complete opposite of his older brother. prince baelor was the first to greet your father with a smile and firm handshake as your father greeted him with the same enthusiasm. the stewart then announces the final name of the last prince to arrive. 

prince maekar. the youngest of the brothers. 

his white stallion is a beauty as he effortlessly guides it to a halt, then dismounts with ease. his hair was of silver as well, like his other brother, but cut to his shoulders with short bangs on his forehead, making him look younger. handsome as well. your eyes caught his the moment he stepped forward to join his two brothers to greet your father. from the way he held himself, you can clearly see the swagger and cockiness. your gaze tears away from his, feeling like you’ve been caught. 

“it’s a pleasure to be welcomed, i assure you.” prince baelor spoke to your father as he then introduced all of you to the princes. you did your courtesy flawlessly while you greeted each prince formally like what you were taught. you glance again to prince maekar, only to see him with a faint scowl on his face while he mutters something to prince aerys, indicating he might be tired from the journey or something else. your first impression of him is how he doesn’t hide his expression like most people with his status do. 

you don’t know if that’s good to you or disrespectful- in the sense that they are the ones who came here. and with some decency, he can show his gratitude in some way without looking like he doesn’t want to be here. 

and as you take a good look at the three princes, their black coats laced with hints of red make them intimidating as it is. the rawness of power is evident, and you see your brothers are staring as well. like children who’ve seen a prince for the first time. you quickly gesture for them to stop it as all of you finally head inside. 

and you think this feast will be interesting. 

・゜゜・．

the feast goes smoothly as expected. the remaining guests invited have already filled the hall. from the wealthy merchants alike in the town and notable high figures that are close to your father. you are seated between your mother and little sister, quietly enjoying your meal and wine as lively music and chatter fills in the room. you can see your father beside prince baelor, engrossed in a conversation that looks promising. the other princes are quietly enjoying their meals as well. you wonder why the other two are here, considering prince baelor seems to be the one who’s been doing all the diplomatic chatter. 

“why do they have ashen hair, sister?” your little sister whispered beside you, staring at both prince aerys and maekar across the table. you don’t blame her for her wonder and curiosity. 

“that is the hair they are born with.” you tell her plainly, and your mother shushes the two of you with a glance. you both shut up as your sister pokes the roasted potato on her plate with boredom. 

“i want to go to my room now. when can i?” your sister whines, and you shake your head. she pouts again, and you ignore her as you glance back where your father is talking with prince baelor. 

your father is boasting loudly like the merry man he is, cracking jokes while he sips his pint. the surrounding men laugh loudly at him. prince baelor seems oddly amused, you wonder if it’s for pleasantries or he actually likes your father’s jokes and stories. you then cast your gaze to the other two princes by his side. prince aerys seems to be reading something… which was peculiar, and the younger prince seems to be in a fouler mood. maekar empties his cup as he looks around for the wine bearer. 

and what comes next solidifies the inkling impression you have on him. 

“pour me some wine, would you?” maekar suddenly looks at your father who stops mid laugh and scrambles to grasp the pitcher near him. your father is already tipsy as he is, and your brows furrow seeing the young prince hold his goblet out like your father is one of his servants. everyone is still drunkenly laughing, unaware of the certain shift as your father poured him some wine shakily, and some spills. 

“so sorry, my prince. there we go now!” your father gives off an awkward laugh. prince maekar holds his gaze, not a word comes out of his lips as he sips his wine. your father awkwardly turns back to his seat, and you watch the whole thing with embarrassment and anger coursing through your veins.  

a call of your names eases you back slowly. 

“straighten your face and eat your meal, girl.” your mother whispers calmly like she didn’t just see that as well, and you look at her with disbelief. 

“mother, but-“ 

“do not. please. not tonight, and not when their graces are here.” she stresses, and you see the crack in her stern expression for a moment. your brows furrowed as you looked back at where the princes and father were. prince baelor seems to not interfere with the situation as he looks at his younger brother with only a stern look before your father finally sits down. prince maekar merely ignores his brother as he sips his wine, and then… 

he somehow finds yours amidst the crowd. 

again. 

you hold his gaze longer than before. 

you don’t know why, but an arising feeling of challenge replaces your anger for a moment. the prince’s expression is unreadable, and you cannot help but feel intimidated despite your own feelings. but the sound of your father laughing loudly finally makes the both of you look away from each other. and you finally exhale the breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding. 

you’re now dreading the days you’ll be spending time with them- with him. and you keep that in mind as your sister whines again. 

“can i go to bed now, please?” 

・゜゜・．

the pressure of housing royals under your roof has been the dire effect of what you call a… crisis that’s happening in your own home. you’ve noticed it since the day after they arrived. it was subtle for the staff, like there’s this tension going around when you walk in the hallways. murmurs and whispers instead of the usual loud banter became the sudden norm. sometimes people were too afraid to even pass by the princes’ quarters. like there’s a plague infesting, and you felt like you’re in a different place rather than comfort. a place where you have to watch your every step or else one mistake would cost you. 

seeing your parents, on the other hand, be like nervous fools in their own home was awful. never had you seen them this frantic and desperate, almost like pigs vying for food to their slaughterer. your father was always the butting end to the endless requests the princes have been making. your family’s tower was small compared to the great houses, big enough to hold a great hall and such, but other commodities weren’t present. you guessed the princes were unfamiliar to the functions which you grew to see as normal. and now they demand for more just to feel comfortable? it was humiliating, but it was reality. 

you hate it. you hate the sudden change, the sudden bow of your heads just to house these tyrants. as much as you want to rant your hatred and distaste for the targaryens, you know well enough to keep it to yourself so as to not be charged with treason. and the boiling point of your hatred was majorly directed to one prince in particular. 

prince maekar’s presence didn’t take long to be noticed.

unlike his older brother’s pacifistic and diplomatic personality, and his other one’s more of a quiet type, he was ruthless. ruthless in a way that he doesn’t care what people think of when he acts in a brash and aggressive manner. like he expects people to cower beneath his scowl and sharp tongue. the staff feared passing prince maekar’s room more than his older brothers. you’ve seen him spit fire like the dragon that he is. 

fucking targaryens. 

it happened in the courtyard, wherein you happened to stumble upon him sparring with one of your brothers. you didn’t hear everything, but you can surely make out the sudden animosity your brother had let out when the ashen haired prince smirked like a wolf after saying something that triggered your poor brother. his grin was cocky, almost to the point he was enjoying making people around him uncomfortable. your other brothers had to hold him down to avoid him delivering a blow to the arrogant prince. and no one spoke about that incident the day after… just quiet ignorance.  

you’ve learned to avoid him to not end up bursting out like your brother… in subtle ways. 

and maybe you liked the reactions you get out of him, the ones you get to notice with your little rebellion with him that he isn’t aware of. 

until now… of course. 

it was a fleeting moment that happened a while ago. you were going into the library or your father’s study room, and so happened prince baelor was in there, looking around as well. while prince maekar was sat on the far end, blabbering about to his brother with nonsense you didn’t care to hear. although you did hear some bits and pieces before you came in. 

“why must i come with you to the docks? the blasted fish smell reeks so much.” maekar grumbles while baelor looks at him pointedly. 

“it will do you well to know what goes on there, little brother.” 

“i joined you to come to this miserable place on father’s command, must you torture me further?” you roll your eyes at that. 

“aerys says the seaside looks promising. aerys is coming with me, can you imagine that? and you’re not?” baelor teases as you wait for a moment to join in, just wanting to return the book you borrowed. 

maekar was about to retort until you opened the door, cutting him off. your presence is immediately noticed as you feel maekar’s eyes dart towards you. 

“good afternoon, my prince.” you greeted as always, and the charming prince baelor smiled at you and noticed the book you were holding. “apologies, for the intrusion. i hope i wasn’t interrupting anything-?” 

“not all, my lady. please, go ahead. this is your home, after all. we’re the intruders here.” the dark haired prince smiled. you nod kindly as you look for the shelf where the book was placed. you can feel the other prince’s gaze burn through you, expecting a greeting from you as well. but you don’t give in until he shifts in his seat and stands up all of the sudden. 

and there you greet him with a faux surprised expression. 

“oh! your grace. i did not notice you were here as well.” you smiled at him with a sweet and high pitched tone. maekar’s jaw tightened as he merely nodded at you. 

“you have to forgive my brother. it seems he has lost his voice somewhere.” baelor interjected, sensing something as he looked at his younger brother with an expecting expression. you look back at maekar, expecting the greeting as well. and you want to laugh seeing his ears turn red.

“my lady.” maekar grits his teeth. you smiled back at him mockingly. 

“good read, my lady?” baelor takes over the conversation, gesturing to your book you’re placing back as you turn away from maekar. pouring all your attention to him. 

“not my cup of tea, i’m afraid. i was merely curious about these epics about knights and such.” you blabbered, which was true in a sense. “i’ve read my father’s whole shelf now, and ended up with this.”

baelor chuckles. “not fond of knightly tales of bravery and honor?” 

“perhaps when romance is involved, your grace.” you laugh, putting the book back in. 

“ah, so you favor softer tales of courtship, stolen glances, and the gist of it all?” 

“something of the sort.” you grinned. “reading about a knight's longing for his unreachable princess is far more interesting.” 

baelor eyes you with intrigue. you don’t lie to yourself how handsome the older prince is. but the seeding thought of them indeed being intruders in your home makes you think what he really is behind closed doors. and for how he lets his youngest brother behave like that and such, you don’t expect much from him either. after all, them coming here was an act itself. just to gain your father’s and townsfolk’s favors to spread their image. 

“is that so?” 

“i think so, my prince.” you say sweetly. “honor is admirable, of course. longing, on the other hand, is more entertaining to see how a knight grapples with his conflict of preserving his honor or admit his love for a woman he’s sworn to protect. don’t you think so, your grace?” 

a scoff interrupts the both of you. and you don’t need to know who it came from. 

“entertaining?” maekar questions. “you speak as if it were a game to see a man be a fool.” 

oh. you blink, and turn around slowly to face him. as if you remember his existence now. 

“is it not, your grace?” you finally spoke back. 

“a fool’s game it is.” he strongly says. “fantasy destroys reality, no true knight would be weak for a woman to break his oath.” 

you look at him pointedly. 

“how fortunate for a true knight to never be tempted, then.” your tone drips with honey. a small pause settles between the two of you as his light eyes stare back at yours. 

“though, i fear-“ your smile sharpens, like a bee’s sting. “he would make such a simple story.” 

an uncomfortable silence follows behind your words. you don’t break your gaze from the scowling prince until he exhales loudly that your smile deepens. 

“you think of yourself as very clever, my lady.” he spits those words out like he’s forcing himself not to say anything else. 

“only when i am given something to read into, your grace.” you hum lightly. his eyes narrow, catching on. 

“and what is it that you’ve read from me?” he challenges. 

you’ve snared him now. 

“very little.” you reply almost instantly. “though, it leaves much more for intrigue, my prince.”

his scowl almost falters but he doesn’t look away. in fact, his gaze sends a chill down your spine. but a quiet laugh from baelor breaks the tension. you shyly turn away, feeling you’ve done enough now to get on his brother’s nerves. 

“well…” baelor huffs out, glancing between the two of you. “i had not expected a debate on tales to turn something far more… spirited.” 

you take a step back, smoothing your dress as if nothing happened at all. 

“apologies, your grace.” you turn to baelor with an easy smile to ease your own tension. “i did not mean to liven your afternoon at your grace’s expense.” 

maekar then lets out a humorless breath, making your brow twitch for a moment. 

“you’ve done quite enough.” he mutters. 

you dip your head politely, but the sharpness in your gaze remains. 

“i shall take my leave now, your graces. thank you for your time.” you curtsied gracefully before moving past them swiftly. but you feel it, his gaze burning holes through your back. you finally leave, still feeling his gaze lingering- sharp and strong. the beat of your heart is the only thing you feel when you walk away with a shaky exhale. 

・゜゜・．

“i like her.” 

baelor says to his brother who’s scowling beside him as the sea breeze sweeps past them. aerys cocks a brow, wondering what his older brother is pertaining to all of the sudden. maekar, though, feels a rush of blood course through his veins. he knows exactly who his brother is talking about. 

“your taste in women is unearthing.” he mumbles and his older brother grins as they lean against the wooden railing. 

“not in that way, brother.” baelor says as maekar rolls his eyes. “the lord’s daughter is an educated girl with peculiar opinions.” 

“the older one?” aerys asked as maekar grumbles. 

“aye.” 

“i suppose you’re right.” aerys suddenly agrees, which maekar cocks a brow at that. “our conversations in the library were enlightening. smart girl that she is.” 

“enlightening.” he repeats flatly, remembering your little spit at him the other day. the way your smile pierced through him as he resist the urge to wipe it off. baelor merely chuckles, amused and unbothered. aerys watches him with veil amusement, wondering what happened. 

“she speaks her mind freely. it’s refreshing.” the dark haired man continues. “not many would dare to do so in front of us.” 

“more like a hindrance that she manages to do so. a lack of restraint for a lady like her.” he spits out. the way you looked at him, like asking for a challenge, has him feeling relentless these days. the way you only seem to direct your attacks on him while you give this innocent act in front of his brothers. it infuriates him yet at the same time… he can’t help but not think of you, which added to his misery. 

“is it?” aerys chuckles. “or simply honesty, little brother?” 

he does not answer his older brother for that. his jaw tightens. honesty? if that were true, then why did your words feel so deliberate? his fingers curl against the wooden railing, and a sound of a squawking seagull passes by. 

how fortunate for a true knight to never be tempted, then. 

the way your lips sharpened, the memory returns unbidden. how you cocked your head to the side, and the way your voice sounded so sweet despite its sharpness. and the way you looked at him-  like you’ve already decided what sort of man he is. 

his grip tightens, the wood almost bruising him. 

he would make such a simple story.

simple, huh? his muscle ticks in his jaw. 

“she provokes. unlady-like of her.” he mutters at last. 

“but you allow it.” baelor hums thoughtfully. “and i’m surprised she didn’t cower away like they usually do with you.” 

maekar glares at him. “i do no such thing.” 

“did you not?” baelor’s smile widens. “you took every word she said.” 

“that was not-“ maekar grumbles. “i was merely expressing my opinion as well! she speaks nonsense. this romantic preference over knightly honors was idiotic to compare-“ 

“and yet…” aerys interrupts him. “you remember every word she said.” 

maekar grunts, embarrassed. 

“our brother seems to be ensnared.” baelor adds as both older men chuckled. “this is good for you. a woman who can finally challenge that temper of yours.” 

“gods know we need someone to finally tame you.” aerys mumbles while maekar glares at him. 

he does not like you one bit! he knows that, but his brothers seem to have other ideas. conflicting as he is, you are a beautiful maiden. too beautiful in fact that he seethes in anger remembering your attitude towards him. you’re a temptress, that’s what you are. drawing him into madness since the day you laid eyes on him in that courtyard. 

“i need a fucking drink. and fuck the two of you.” he finally breathes out while his brothers chuckle loudly as they agree on getting a drink. 

the thought of you lingers in his mind… and he can’t help but indulge that he’ll be the one to tame you. 

not him that will be tamed. 

・゜゜・．

“why didn’t the ritual work, sister?” your sister pouts as you brush her hair. you purse your lips, thinking of what to say- or what to say again. since she has been pouting the past few days telling you that little mirror ritual she did never worked. 

“i do not know as well.” you merely say as she pouts even further. she has been complaining that she didn’t see anyone in the mirror other than her own reflection. you blame whoever told her of this ‘ritual’ to get her hopes up. 

“i won’t ever marry, won’t i?” she frowns, and you kiss the side of her head to soothe her disappointment. “mother said marriage is the most important thing to achieve when i grow up.” 

you want to roll your eyes, but you resist the urge to do so. you can see your little sister do much more than marry as her end goal, it pains you that she’s subjected to this tradition like you are roped into as well. your mother’s insistence on pushing you to court has been a debate that’s not been settled between the two of you. you’re grateful your brothers are betrothed which shifted your mother’s attention to them as of lately. 

“get some rest and put that pout away, okay?” you say softly as you put the hairbrush down. she silently nods as you kiss the top of her head again and guide her to her bed at the other side. you tuck her in, quietly telling her to dream sweetly. she eventually drifts off as you busy yourself unwinding for the day. 

the princes were finally leaving in a few days. the wide smile on both of your parents’ faces indicated that this visit was a success. you can’t help but think about the occurrences that happened as of lately. it… bothers you more than you can admit. 

prince maekar kept his distance, and you did as well. it’s what you wanted in the first place. although it bothered you how much you’ve been seeing him since that little incident in your father’s study. somehow you always bump into him in awkward times. and in those times, only greetings were exchanged and nothing more. but the hardest part was why were you so fixated on it? 

sure, you may have grown amused in your treatment towards him. you still thought of him as the arrogant man that acts like a child when someone finally challenges him. the lingering glances may be the reason… you think. he never was the one to break his stare at first, and you happen to be the one who always looks away. you sigh, grabbing your candle to go back to your own room before a sudden clang outside makes you jump. 

“what in the seven hells-“ you muttered, quietly opening the door. your head peeks out and you’re met with the most hilarious sight. 

“for f-fuck *hiccup*… where the hell…” prince maekar stumbles, knocking off one of the candle holders as he mutters where his room is. you raise a brow and scowl. what an annoying thing he is to disturb the peace in front of the room while your sister is sleeping. you wait for a moment, hesitant whether to step outside or to let him pass. he seems to slump against the wall, and you took the courage to leave your sister’s room. you hold your robe tightly against your chest as you try to walk past him. 

“is someone there? help me! i can’t find my room-“ you don’t know why you didn’t just walk away. maybe it was his tone, his pompous fucking tone that he demands someone to help his idiotic self. 

“fucking miserable place this is-“ you turn around, walking over to him as maekar’s head sprung up at the sudden warm light encompassing the dark hallway. 

“your grace. your quarters are on the other side.” you say quietly, and the man blinked dumbly as he squinted to adjust his vision to the candlelight. his drunken self seemed to recognize you now as he scowled. 

“you…” he drunkenly whispered. “you… you can fuck off.” 

your brows furrow. did he just- 

“as you wish, my prince. idiot…” you roll your eyes as you step away. maekar suddenly becomes acutely aware that you’re leaving him as he grips your wrist all of the sudden. 

“w-wait!” he hiccups, and you stood still. glancing at his warm hand wrapped around your wrist. didn’t tell you to go away? you blame the stench of wine and mead on him which makes your nose crinkle. his slumped form suddenly straightens, and he looks down at you with glassy eyes. an uncomfortable feeling settles in your chest, seeing how tall he is.

“let go of me.” you whisper, a bit shakily. he immediately complies and he runs a hand over his face. as if… as if he’s conflicted with something as he stares at you. 

“what the fuck did i do to make you like this to me, woman?” he suddenly asks, drunken mind spewing out his thoughts. his bangs are more swept away than his usual well-kept form. his silver hair shines against your candlelight… he looks pathetic. handsomely pathetic as you swallow in the heat trapped in your stomach. 

but you scoff. “that is your concern?” 

“fucking hell… yes!” he says, almost a whine. “i-i have done nothing! nothing! i am a guest in your home! and you- you treat me like i’m a pest other than my brothers!” he spews out as he angrily rakes his hand through his hair, making him more unwild. 

“maybe you are a pest, your grace.” you snapped, stepping closer to him. “you come here with the attitude of a spoiled prince, which you are.” 

his jaw tightened. “you know nothing of me to warrant that observation.” 

“oh, you’ve given me plenty enough, my prince.” you whispered as you looked into his eyes. “you are a self-pompous, arrogant, spoiled, selfish, and brash man who knows nothing of manners! you treat everyone here as your servant when, yes, you are a guest in my home! but you are not in your fucking castle-“ 

he defends himself. he did not treat you that way. he is sure of it. “i have done nothing to you-“

“you have!” you seethe in anger as he blinks dumbly at your outburst. “my father welcomed you with open arms, and the treatment he gets is like a servant.” 

“that-“ he tries to say. “that… that was nothing. he is the host-“ 

“it means something to me. and all i could see was a spoiled prince who doesn’t know how to ask- but only demand.” you finished, feeling your whole body warm from that. and he stands there… silent. as if you’re the first one to tell him that- and it may as well be true. but when you look into his eyes again, you feel a chill run down your spine. his gaze is half-lidded, warranted with this- want. 

huh. 

your cheeks heat up, and maekar stares back at you. 

“i know.” he finally whispers back. his gaze swept from your fresh face illuminated by the candlelight down to your exposed neck that makes him imagine things that he fought hard not to think of every night. “tell me… tell me how i can make it up to you, then.” 

“what?” your eyes widened. 

“tell me… my lady, tell me how to make amends for you.” he almost begs, and you don't know what the hell he’s talking about. 

“you are insufferable.” you say, wanting to step away but he suddenly moves forward. you take a step back until the wall behind you hits your back. 

“you are as well.” he chuckles. “and yet you keep finding your way to me.” 

oh. you want to retort back, but his looming presence as he leans over, makes you stand still as you wait for his next move. but he doesn’t do anything but stand still, patiently waiting as you look at him through your lashes. for a drunkard, he sure knows how to control himself. the beating of your heart thumps loudly against your chest. his scowl was long gone, his gaze softer than before, it makes you want to- 

no! you say to yourself. you hate him! you hate him so much! but why are you thinking of kissing him everytime- 

“tell me… please.” he breathes out, and your mind goes blank. 

you let the candle you’re holding drop to the ground as you surge forward, gripping his cheeks with your hands as you kiss him. his lips taste like wine and you devour it. maekar is now the one who stays still. his head is all buzzed and dizzy, and the soft register of your lips on his own makes him reel back in as he grips your waist. he kisses you back with the same ferocity, thinking this must be a dream. you clumsily kiss him harder, liking the way his hands hold you as he moans in your mouth. 

he feels like he’s been put in a spell. a fucking confusing one because he doesn’t know how the hell you managed to make him this vulnerable. he’s gone, he’s completely gone and utterly destroyed. you finally pull back, having to take a breath. a string of saliva connects the two of you as you let out a tiny sigh. the man in front of you looks more pathetic as he stares at your glistening lips. your eyes stare back as well then going lower… and- 

the evident bulge in his trousers makes your pupils darken. you can feel your own arousal pulse, but reality starts sinking as you’re now aware both of you are in the hallway and anyone could see the two of you in this state. you push him away all of the sudden, and he stumbles back, confused and more drunk. you’re about to break the silence, but he beats you first. 

“f-forgive me.” he merely says. “i’m drunk- fuck, i’m drunk. but please forgive me, my lady.” he mutters, reaching gently to grasp your hand. your breathing doesn’t simmer down as you let him take your hand. he pulls up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. “please say you forgive me.” 

“no.” you lie. you pull your hand away, and that makes him stumble forward as you finally rush to get to your room. 

maekar slumps against the stone wall. he sits down, feeling infuriated with desire as he touches his lips. he remembers the softness of it and your taste… but then you pull away, going back to square one. he scowls, he wants you so much but you had to make it difficult. thoughts run through his almost sober mind… he’ll get back to you. if you don’t want his forgiveness then he’ll play your little game. he’ll have revenge, he’ll have you in this state you’ve left him as well. 

・゜゜・．

the days after were suffocating. 

you avoided maekar completely. you stayed in your room more than you normally did. yet the sensation of his lips on yours still lingers. it tears you apart that the man you seem to now want is the same man you thought of lowly. it irritates you, and yet… you don’t even want to think about it. it only makes you mad and… ugh! 

you put your book down, getting off your bed as you try to walk it off. trying to get rid of this feeling, this feeling you aren’t supposed to feel for him. never you had a man tick the inside of your brain this much- let alone a pompous prick of a prince. but it was no matter, he’s leaving in a day. and all will be back to normal. 

although… 

you don’t know why it makes you frown. him. leaving. after all that. you have to admit… he’s the first man that intrigued you despite his sloppy attitude. maybe that was why… maybe he managed to spark something in you that never came until now. and now you expect more, more than just some kiss you know he’ll forget. his drunken ass. 

maybe he does this thing to every woman he comes across, you suddenly think, and maybe you’re one of the unfortunate victims. 

a knock and opening of your door pulls you out of your anger all of the sudden. 

“yes?” you breathe out. 

“father wants to see you. says he needs to talk to you… at this instant.” your brother says, and you’re frazzled. you only comply, following him to your father’s study, worried what this is about. when you enter, your father is sitting in his study with a joyful expression, as if he was told something even more profound than having a direct alliance with the crown. your mother sits on the chair in front of him, also looking ecstatic. 

“ah! there you are!” your father jumps up, ushering you to come in. you hesitate until your mother practically leaps up from her seat to pull you down to sit instead. 

“i am so proud of you.” your mother tells you all of the sudden. you raise a brow, confused. 

“i don’t how you did it, my girl. i am already pleased with the business we have with their graces, but this… you did a good job.” your father now praises you. you sit there, dumbfounded, wondering what this is about. did you won a tourney or something without knowing- 

“i… thank you?” you finally say. both your parents smiled widely. 

“i knew my daughter would one day become a princess.” your mother says, and your blood turns cold. 

what? 

“pardon?” you blink. 

“of course, my love. prince maekar chose exceptionally well! he knew our daughter’s worth.” your father says and you want to run. “he asked permission from us to court you, saying you two have been spending quite a lot of time together. i am sure within weeks he’ll ask for your hand!” 

a vein almost pops in your head, but the feeling in your chest says otherwise. that cunning piece of shit- 

“huh.” you don’t know what to say, if you tell them the truth, you don’t want them to be upset. you don’t want a whole argument to turn into who’s telling the truth, because what the hell was that man thinking? 

why? is your next question in your head. what is he doing? you don't know what the hell he’s getting out of this- you really don’t know. both of you ignore each other that night, and now this? 

was he plotting against you? just for fun? 

you want to scream, but you smiled. forced a smile as your parents praise you indefinitely. 

this was not over. 

・゜゜・．

maekar feels smug… smug that he’s managed to grin today. tomorrow he’ll leave, and never speak to you about what he told your parents. it was something out of the whim that he told your father that. as childish as it was, he was hoping you’d take the bait. but it seems your distance grows further. he rarely sees you the days after that night. 

and it was killing him. 

laughable it was, he doesn’t expect that you’re now this close to being snared in his trap. 

like right now. 

you were livid, finally cornering him that night. you secretly waited, just enough to corner him in the stairs at the dead of night. this time you had no plan, no motive, nothing- but to just… strangle him if you could. and this is how maekar ends up pressed against the wall in the spiral stairs with you pushing your finger on his chest. 

“you are a lunatic!” you try not to yell as the prince smirked. “how- how could you say that to my father? are you mad?” 

“watch your tone, m’lady.” he merely says, mocking you. your eyes widened as you don’t know what else to say. “i bet you liked it, didn’t you? you kissed me first from what i remember-“ 

“shut up!” you cut him off, cheeks warm, and there he looks at you fondly, and you deliver the final blow, hoping it would gain a reaction from him.

 “i hate you.”

silence. only the wind outside can be heard. maekar’s jaw tightened as he looked at you, his hand came up to cup your jaw… and you let him. he smirks, shaking his head. 

“i know you do.” he whispers and all hell breaks loose. he surges forward to capture your lips, and it felt damn better than that night he was drunk. you pull his collar forward, deepening the kiss as your mind goes blank. you moan between kisses when his hands grasp your hips. 

it was all a blur, your hands went to his trousers, untying them. he followed your every move as you pushed him to sit on the stairs. his hands grasped your hips then reached up your skirt, looking for your drawers to pull down. you slap his hand away, still angry as you push them off. 

“you said you wish to court me, right? marry me?” you breathe out as he pulls his trousers down, his arousal evident as it springs out. you look down at his cock, all thick and hard, the wetness in your center annoys you. maekar dumbly blinks but nods at the same time. 

“i hate you. so this is your way of forgiveness.” you say sweetly as you grip his chin. “or else i’ll tell everybody how you soiled me then left the next day.” 

he laughs as you grip his cock, and you’re not entirely sure what you’re doing as you grip it before hovering over his exposed lap. maekar watches seeing you fumble until he gently guides you. his fingers brushed against your entrance, and he made a pleased noise feeling your wetness. all for him. you shudder at his ministrations until he gripped and pressed himself against your entrance. you sink down, welcoming him, but it stung, making you place your hands on his chest to keep you steady. 

“easy now.” he whispers. “slowly.” 

you nod as you slowly take him in, fighting the burn as your warm walls welcome him. 

“fucking-“ he groans out when he’s deep in you. you let out a whine as you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting to his size. after a couple of minutes, you begin to move, a little clumsy but you grind your hips, feeling the pleasure like no other. it was all so new, and you can’t wrap your head around the idea that this is wrong. 

what the fuck are you two doing? 

you want to cry out as maekar lets you set the pace, but he leans forward, kissing your exposed neck as he pulls the strings of your top to reveal your chemise. he pulls it down, kissing your exposed breasts. you grind against him as his hips matched your pace. you moan out, the new sensation making you dizzy as he lets out a few groans of his. your hands went to his hair, and you pull him forward for another kiss. 

“i hate you.” you mumble between his lips, grinding harder, feeling like you’re close to something. his hand comes down to bully your clit which makes you whine loudly. 

“i hate you.” you repeat again, and he chuckles before pounding upwards to chase the impending release you’re both having. 

“i hate you!” you grip the back of his neck when you feel yourself coming, and he sighs out as your walls clenched around him. he moans out, loving every second of it as his own release follows after. he cums deep inside you, and fuck does it feel so good and so wrong. 

the gentle high dies down, and you slump against his form while he lays back on the stairs. he looks at you, softly this time. you look back at him as he merely grins. 

“am i forgiven?” 

・゜゜・．

“i really do hate you, you idiot.” 

it’s the first time in six years since you said you hate him again. maekar looks at you fondly as he wipes your stray tears. you carry your little aerion in your arms while daeron grips your dress below, staring silently at the two of you. you hate to see him go this moment, when you’re not sure he’ll come back to you alive and you don’t know what to do with that thought. he was commanded to lead the siege near king’s landing, and you didn’t like the idea of your husband so close to the rebellion. but duty was duty. he needed to go and join his brother. 

“i love you.” you say finally, kissing his lips one last time. “come back to me- to us.” 

“i love you as well.” he utters softly, and you’re reeled back in the past the first time he said that after the incident you two caused back in your hometown. 

“come back or i’ll never forgive you.” you warn him, the nostalgic feeling makes him chuckle as he kisses the head of aerion and bends down to daeron, muttering to your little boy to take care of you when he’s away. 

“i know. when haven’t i made amends for you?” he grins, and you can still see that boyish grin of the pompous prince you grew to hate… then love back then.