#sacha asks

Baelor

Baelor is definitely a very secure man. He is the definition of a confident, secure man and a walking green flag.

When you leave, or one of you goes away for a few days without your company, I definitely feel like he gets a little anxious and worries about how you are, but nothing too crazy. He just wants to make sure you are happy and comfortable, and you are not being there or away for a time; he worries for your well-being.

He is big on communication, so if he feels anxious or unsure about something in your relationship, he will speak up, and if he sees you feeling anxious or worried will definitely sit you down to talk through it.

He doesn't want anything left unsaid, especially if it hurts him or you.

His love language to you is definitely gift giving. He loves to spoil you and will not hesitate to buy you whatever you want. He doesn't do it to buy your love, but from the simple fact that he just loves to spoil you and deck you in all the best jewels and silks and whatever else your heart desires.

The love language he definitely loves from you is acts of service. He loves it when you help him or offer to do something for him, he mentioned in passing. whether it was mending a shirt he kept forgetting to send to the seamstress, or putting his books away after he left them askew over his desk. or making sure he eats when he gets stuck in endless meetings.

Maekar

Maekar at first is pretty avoidant. He's learnt to be over the years, and suddenly having you there caring for him and asking him if he's eaten or wants any help definitely throws him through the wringer. And definitely after he falls for you, he grows very fearful and tries to push you away out of fear of losing you. It's just who he is - but as he grows used to you, forcing your presence on him every day, he grows a little more secure, but is still definitely in the category of Avoidant fearful.

Being the youngest and always in the shadow of Baelor and always finding himself looking after his brother Rhaegal and fighting for his mother's attention, he was definitely pushed to the back burner of his mother's affections and as a result, he is very independent and has low self-esteem.

He doesn't get what you see in him, even if you spend your days telling exactly what you see and love in him.

He is definitely anxious. When you are away or angry at him, he definitely punishes himself and worries; he overthinks everything when it comes to his relationship with you, because he is definitely someone who falls slowly but hard, but does not communicate how he feels.

His love language with you is quality time. He loves spending hours with you completely uninterrupted. He always makes sure to spend every meal, every tea, and every day where you just wish to spend hours in the gardens of Summerhal together. He wants to spend every moment with you, to the point that he has to be physically torn away from you at times.

You with him always give him words of affirmation. He loves to give them to you, praising you and complimenting every aspect of you. But he really preens when you do it to him. It's the only time he blushes when you call him "handsome" or compliment his physique and skills. He tries to act tough, and those words don't affect him, but he definitely strops when you don't compliment him somehow.

Valarr

Valarr, of course, in anxious and needy. He needs affection nonstop and is the type to pout whenever he has to go days on end without you (the days being the time between lunch and dinner). He needs constant reassurance, and he finds that with you, he gets very jealous. not in a possessive sense but in a longing sense. he can be possessive, of course, I definitely see that with him. But his jealousy can be ov little things like spending time with his little brother Matarays, when he is right there (he wouldn't be, but he is the type to say "you could have come and found me" with a pout on his face)

It's not that he isn't secure - he is, his father made sure of it, but he also worries about all the weight of the realm on him and pleasing his father, that whenever you are away from him, he worries he isn't doing everything he can to make you happy.

His love language is definitely physical touch. He wants to be touching you constantly. if your next to him, he his holding you somehow, kissing you, whether he can. He is big on PDA. He doesn't care where they are; if he wants to hug you or kiss you, he will.

He also loves words of affirmation, from you and him. he loves to give you praise. You are perfect to him, and he makes sure you know it.

He also always makes sure to spoil you, you need never ask for everything because Valarr expects your every need and fulfils it before you even realise you need or want something.

Dunk

Dunk doesn't get what you see in him; you could have anyone you wanted, and yet you choose him. So, as a result,lt he is quite anxious. He wants to make you happy in any way possible, and since he has low self-esteem (seeing as Peter Claffey has never looked in a mirror and doesn't belvie him self to be conventionally attractive). He is definitely worried he'll lose you to someone better, no matter how much he reassures you.

He struggles to communicate his fears, not because he doesn't want to, but just because he knows you won't understand them. To you, Dunk is everything you ever wanted, and no matter how much you reassure him, he knows if he speaks up, you'll leave him a blushing mess as you praise him.

Your love language with him is definitely words of affirmation. All you do his praise him, reassure him and express your love to him, and he loves it, even if it makes him stutter and blush.

With you, his love language is definitely acts of service. He will do anything and everything for you. can't reach something? He's grabbing it. Don't like a particular chore? He's doing it from now on. Do you need anything? Even if its juts killing a spider or speaking to the merchant at the market, he is doing it for you.

Lyonel

He is the definition of a secure man. He is confident in himself and your relationship. He knows what he wants, and he's worked hard to know what you like. He might not be a walking green flag like Baelor, but he is extremely secure in your relationship and communicates his needs clearly.

But despite this, he is a needy guy. he needs touch, and he needs you. When he travels, you are travelling with him. if you need to do something, which means leaving his company, he wants to come with you. It's not from a lack of self-esteem or a need for reassurance and approval in your relationship, but from a sheer want to touch you and be close to you. Your constanlty sat on his lap in feasts. Not a night goes by where he doesn't wrap himself around you entirely in bed.

He doesn't have a set love language. He loves to praise and tease. He loves to touch and hold you. he loves spending his time with you, and he loves spoiling you.

When it comes to your love language with him, he loves acts of service with quality time. He loves it when you go to every part he throws, loves it when you help him plan them. And he loves it when you watch him train for tourneys. He just loves it when you watching him.

Daeron

He is definitely the most needy. He needs your attention. he needs your focus and your love. He adores you and is so anxious every time you leave him, every time he messes up or gets drunk, he worries how you'll react, and worries that you won't take care of him. But of course you do, and he loves it.

He loves it when you take care of him, and it definitely makes him more needy. He needs to touch you, and he needs your words of affirmation. He loves your praise, even when it's sprinkled in with a little degradation.

In your relationship, he is definitely very anxious. He needs constant reassurance and love, and you're more than happy to give it to him, especially as his love language is touch. He is always holding you, hugging you and burying himself in your body.

Aerion

He tries to be avoidant, acts like it, but he isn't. He's actually very needy. in an entirely possessive way. He needs you to know that you are his and only his. It drives him insane and angered when you act like you aren't, he needs to reassure you that he has you. And once he has it, he acts like he does not care. He hates when you check on him, make sure he's eaten and taking care of himself. But when you don't do it, he definitely throws a tantrum and demands you cater to his every need.

His love language is definitely acts of service, and he makes sure you thank him for it. He gives you everything you want or need, and he makes sure you know he is the only one who will do that for you. he is definitely the time to go to the lengths of ordering staff not to listen to you, just so you have to come to him for anything you need.

When it comes to your love language for him, its defienlty words of affirmation. He insists upon it. You have to praise him and compliment how much of a dragon he is. And when he doesn't provoke you to praise it, and you do it of your own accord, he gives you a quick nod of approval, but you know his possessive personality is eating it up.

He's also extremely jealous and will show it through anger and avoidance of you. but hes alwyas the first to come crawling back.

Valarr was desperate for your attention, he had been since he first saw you sat in the gardens, a book on flowers in hand as you studied the petals on the flower in front of you with undivided attention.

Since then, he found you in the gardens everyday, it took him longer than he cared to admit to work up the courage to speak to you. Spending the last few days stood watching as you noted everything there was to know about a each flower. He would watch as your lips formed a small pout, your face the picture of concentration as you wrote, the way your eyes sparked when you studied the flowers.

He had watched you move around the gardens of the keep, surveying each and every flower over the past few weeks, blissfully unaware of the outside world or anyone around you as you worked.

By the time Valarr worked up the courage to speak to you, you had surveyed half the gardens flowers. And Valarr ever eager to please, wanted to impress you, and had ordered rare flowers specifically from Dorne in an effort to impress you.

The bouquet was behind his back, a nervous smile played on his lips as he slowly approached you.

You didn’t look up, too engrossed in your findings to care for the world around you.

He cleared his throat, waiting for you too look at him. You did after a moment, finishing your sentence and placing the flower in your hand in the correct place in the box beside you. You looked up at him, your face blank but not harsh, as you waited for him to speak.

A large blush took over his face as you looked at him. He waited for you to speak, his eyes following yours as you looked at him, your eyes avoiding his, after a moment of no words from him or you, you went back to what you were doing, ignoring his presence entirely, “I no- I I brought these for you,” he presented you the bouquet of flowers, your head perked up at the sight of them, a soft smile on your face as you took them from him, “thank you” you spoke softly, reaching to grab them and adding them to your pile of uncatalogued flowers, eager to note them later.

Valarr waited for a moment rolling onto the heels of his feet as he watched you resume your work, “do you…do you like them?”

“Yes, they are very nice, thank you.” You spoke, not looking up at him.

Valarr blushed, a large smile on his face at your words, “can I join you?”

“Why?” You looked at him, your eyebrow raised, entirely perplexed at his question.

Valarr stuttered, “I…to help you?”

“I don’t need your help,” your words weren’t cruel nor unkind.

“Well I would like to spend time with you, and learn about your interested,” he took a step forward, still smiling softly, though more nervous than before.

“Oh,” you hummed, eyeing him a little, “okay, you can…help,” you said reaching to reorganise your work and allowing him to sit beside you. “You can hold the flowers?” You spoke placing the bouquet he had gifted you in his lap.

The afternoon was spent with him being more of a place holder than anything, with him asking you countless questions and you eagerly answering them. Though you had been shy at first, or at least that’s what he assumed, nervous just like he was but as the afternoon progressed you grew more comfortable working beside him. “Thank you for letting me help you,” he spoke helping you pack up your things.

“Your welcome,” you spoke as you left, your gaze on the floor as you walked back to the keep, Valarr chasing after you as you went.

“Woah slow down,” he laughed, “let me walk you back.” His hand touched your shoulder stopping your steps, “let me help you carry that,” he took your book and flower box, leaving you with just the bouquet he had gifted you.

“I don’t need your help,”

“But I wanted to,” he smiled, following after with a blush still on his face, you didn’t speak again as he walked you back to the keep, only eyeing him carefully as he walked you, listening to what he had to say.

The following days he sat waiting for you on the bench, his own notebook and quill in hand, ready to make notes of his own, though more about you than the flowers.

You were surprised to say the least that he was there, you found his entire appearance yesterday odd. He spent most days in the garden, and you could only assume he had felt sorry for you, had seen you spending days on end with your own company and thought you needed a friend. It was sweet, a kind offer but you had always preferred solitude than others for company.

He appeared every day after that, spending the day in your company, trailing after you like a lost puppy, holding your things, noting everything you said.

Rarely did a day go by where he was persistent in his company, wether inviting you to lunch or trailing after you. He was unrelenting. You had never cared much before for having friends, but Valarr was insistent on it.

“I brought you a gift,” he said one afternoon after he dragged you away from your flowers to have lunch with him. He reached into his pocket presenting a small box to you.

“No flowers?” You asked, pouting slightly, he always gifted you flowers. He laughed at your pout, reaching to open the box and pressing a ring to you. The gem, a ruby sat on a silver band, the gems moulded in a way to look like a flower. “A ring?”

He nodded, “I…I hope it’s not to soon, we have only been courting a few months-“

“Courting?” You spluttered, your eyes snapping to his. “You were courting me?”

He blushed, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “I thought I had made it obvious…the gifts the company…I the notebook I kept about you”

“Those notes were about me? And not my flowers?” You asked pouting slightly, “why would you-“ you cut yourself off blushing, “oh you I-“ you stuttered unable to get the words out, as he grabbed the ring and got on his knees.

“I probably should have been more obvious but I- I have been entirely captivated by you since the day I first saw you in the gardens I- I had thought my gifts had made it obvious,”

“Oh I just thought you wanted to be my friend,”

“I would love to be your friend,” he breathed, blushing, “but I would also love it if you would be my wife?”

“Oh” you sighed, looking at the ring, it was beautiful. Perfect even. You had told him your favourite flower and he had somehow commissioned a ring to look exactly like it. “Yes, I will marry you,”

He smiled, sliding the ring onto your finger with unabashed joy. “Can I kiss you?” He asked still kneeling in front of you, his hand holding yours as you admired the ring.

Baelor (<200 words)

“What are you wearing, my dear?” Baelor asked, watching as you readied yourself for bed, choosing one of his shirts over your many night gowns.

You shrugged, turning to face your husband with a smile, “It’s more comfortable.”

He smiled, patting your side of the bed and urging to come to him, “i can see that,” he mused, reaching for you as you sat beside him. “I like you in my clothes,” he hummed reaching over to place a kiss on your cheek, you smiled as he did so, reaching for the book in his lap and placing it on his bedside table.

“Perhaps I should forgo my gowns and wear your shirts instead,” you hummed , sitting in the bed to face him.

“I believe you should wear only my clothes from now on my dear.” He chuckled his hands settling in your hips as you leaned down to place a kiss on his lips, “particularly my shirts and nothing else,”

You smiled laughing at his words as you reached down and placed another kiss to his lips.

Maekar (350 words)

“Wife, have you seen my shirts?” Makear called out, searching his drawers for his shirts, only to find nothing. 

A small laugh sounded behind him, a gleeful laugh that had the stern look on Makear’s face faltering. He turned to where you were readying yourself for bed, your body donned with Maekar’s shirt, your own nightgown nowhere in sight.

“Is that my shirt?” he grunted, prowling towards you as you toyed with the ends of his shirt, a smile on your face as he reached for you. “Are you the thief that has emptied my drawers?”

You cocked your head. “Mayhaps,” you hummed, reaching up and pressing your lips to his, “i much prefer them to my own clothes.”

“So you chose to steal mine?”  Maekar shook his head. “We could order you clothes the same as mine; you need not steal them.”

“But they feel better stolen,” you hummed, your hands flying to his as they rested on your hip.

Maekar clicked his tongue, eyeing you with a bemused look. “How so?”

You smiled, reaching up to place another kiss on his lips. “They smell of you.” 

Maekar thought of a smile, his eyes assessing you as he took in the shirt on your form. It was much too big for you, almost comically so. And the fact that you had stolen them made it clear that you had no plans on giving them back, at least until they stopped smelling like him. 

“How long have you been wearing my clothes?”

“Just your shirts, “ you hummed. “Yesterday, the maid had placed one of your shirts in my own drawers, and I had decided to wear it. It was nice to have a piece of you all day, no matter how annoying it can be to deal with your overly large shirts,” you hummed, your hands moving up with Maekar as they caressed your body. 

Maekar smiled, “I suppose we could share my shirts…if you reveal where it is you have hidden my shirts?”

You laughed, nodding your head as Makear tugged on his shirt, pulling you closer to him. 

Lyonel (<300 words)

Lyonel watched as you walked around the library, his shirt hanging loosely from your body as you reached to place a book on the shelf. 

“Wife,” he laughed, watching as you tripped over your own feet. “What is it you are doing?” he asked, coming up behind you and grabbing the book from your hands. 

“I'm organising the library, it has been left alone for far to long,” you hummed, turning to face lyonel as he reached around you to place the book in its place. He laughed, as he did for everything. 

“And is that why you chose to wear my shirt, to not messy your own gowns?”

You blushed, backing away from him slightly as you reached for the pile of books you were organising, walking as if it were no oddity to be walking around in a shirt too large.” Not at all,” 

Lyonel laughed, is eyes assessing the library as he took in all you had done, before his eyes landed back on you. “Is that so?”

You turned to your husband, blushing at his gaze. “They are comfortable,” you hummed, “and they smell like you.” 

A large smile took over his face at your words, his hands moving back to your waist as you moved up the ladder you had leaned against the endless bookshelves, pulling you off the ladder and tossing you over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” you laughed as Lyonel walked from the library to your chambers. 

“You wish to smell like me, yes?”

“Yes,” you agreed, attempting to look over your shoulder to catch sight of your husband.

I definitely think Aerions capable of infidelity, but only in the early stages of marriage (if it was arranged) he wants to hurt your feelings and dosent care about the consequences. He’s definitely someone who acts without thinking, but I think as time passes and he becomes obsessed (because he 100% would) he’d stop. He wouldn’t regret it, he thinks it’s an honour for you to be wed to a dragon. But when he understands and sees how it hurt you he strives to show you that he does only care for you even if he does it in the form of possession and I little violence.

Daeron I don’t think he is (even if canonically he is), he’s the type to get codependent and couldn’t even imagine him doing it. In my head when he married his wife in canon it was a one and done never see each other as husband and wife again. but when it comes to reader he is so obsessed with them and how they care for him even when he’s is drunk. How they strive to understand and calm his dreams.

If you were to cheat on Aerion he would be angry to say the least. He wouldn’t take it lightly and would be insulted even at the mere idea of you cheating on him. He would 100% kill whoever it was, and though he’d forgive you, blaming whoever you cheated on him with instead. Claiming they bewitched you and you could never cheat on him willingly. He’s entirely deluded and would not take it lightly. Violence is his only answer (not necessarily at you, though he’d definitely punish you in the form of spanking and some light chocking in bed)

Daeron wouldn’t blame you. He’d be hurt of course if you cheated on him but he’d fully blame himself and his drinking. Even if he knows he can’t stop, he doesn’t want to dream of loosing you again. But he would get in his knees and beg you to tell him why you cheated. He knows why but he’s so dependent and desperate for you and your love he’d do anything not to loose it.

For Aerion there is no limit to what he’s capable of when he’s angry. He’s brash and violent and it doesn’t stop just because he’s married. I honestly think once he comes to love you he won’t be violent or cheat but at the start I think he would be rather cruel, mean and dare I say a little violent. Not in the case of beating you but he would probably slap you if he felt you offended him.

For me the worst thing you can do in a marriage is be violent, unnecessarily cruel and cheat. All things I think Aerion is capable off, but I don’t believe he would do it on purpose? Being cruel is who he is but once he realises your his he would definitely change, not quickly but his obsession and love definitely comes quick.

For Daeron, the cruellest he could be would be forgetting about you or saying something harsh when drunk or after a bad dream about you as if being mean will ward off whatever fate he dreamt off.

Daeron wouldn’t forget about you on purpose, definitely by mistake caused by his drinking. Something you already would hate, and he would hate himself for it making him forget about you. He wouldn’t forget you exist, you would just be an afterthought, or he would forget an event or a dinner you had planned. And the come crawling back (literally) and apologise.

For Aerion, he loves blood, loves blood play and loves period sex. He’s definitely into it and the second your period blood comes he finds any excuse to eat you out, or fuck you (claiming it’ll help smooth your cramps and pains). He loves pregnancy sex too, loves the idea of breeding you and filling you with a brood of dragons. But period sex is definitely his favourite.

Daeron, honestly the man is lazy both in life and the bedroom but something gets him going once he’s found out he’s breed you. He definitely loves how sensitive pregnancy would make you, but what he definitely loves is your pregnant breasts, he 100% has a lactating kink, and would take fulls advantage of whatever complaints fill from your lips about about your sore breasts whilst pregnant (and after).

“I swear to the seven,” Lady Rosby spoke, her eyes light with mirth as she spoke, “husbands even sneak off into brothels to get it.”

Lady Darklyn laughed, “My husband loves it, every night he begs for me to get on my knees,” she giggled, lifting her tea to her mouth. 

“And you enjoy it?” you asked, looking sceptically at your ladies. 

“You don’t need to enjoy it,” Lady Westlering scoffed, “it's what they expect.”

“It's a part of our wifely duties,” Lady Rosby laughed. 

You sank into your seat, a flush on your face as you thought of what the ladies had said. Not once had Baelor asked for you to take his manhood into your mouth, nor had the idea crossed your mind. He loved to taste you, and did so more often than not. Surely he expected you to return the favour, perhaps he was just waiting for you to initiate it.

You moved forward in your chair ever so slightly, shakingly reaching for your tea, “and how does one, please a man in such a way?”

The ladies laughed, telling you about another wifely duty you failed at. 

The thought of it didn't exactly please you, but with how you had failed so far, it was only right that you give Baelor what he wanted, right? If all men liked this, then Baelor would. Surely he expected this, craved this as so many other men did. 

It was hard to contain your emotions as the ladies spoke of it, of how they instructed you in the manner, even harder to hide your nerves as you forced yourself into Baelor's Solar, your hand picking at the skin of your fingers as you passed by Ser Donnel and Ser Ronald, a shy, nervous smile on your lips as you greeted them. 

Baelor was slumped over his desk, entirely focused on the letters he was reading. His hand rubbing at the temple. He hardly noticed when you walked in, his gaze only finding yours when you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“My dear,” he greeted, reaching for your hand and placing a soft kiss atop it. 

“Stressed, husband?” you asked, swallowing roughly as you built up the courage for your next action. 

He smiled, “a little,” his hands reached for your waist, his smile dropping slightly when you stepped away from him and instead fell to your knees. 

“Allow me to help relieve you of some stress?” you spoke, your hands reaching for the ties of his breaches, your fake confidence spurring your actions on.

Your hands worked quickly to free his length, the cock that had started to harden the second he laid eyes on you, your eyes focused entirely on his cock, knowing that if you looked at him and his face. The way his eyes were most likely set on you, his brow arched in confusion. You knew if you glanced his way, any confidence you had, fake or not, would fade away. 

You placed a long lick across his length, your hand steady at the base of his cock as you moved to suck on his tip. A groan fell from Baleor's mouth, his hand reaching for your hair, “What are you doing?” he asked, his breath heavy as you tried to take him into your mouth, gagging as you did so. 

You ignored his as you tried to relax your throat and take more of him into your mouth, your hand working to pump what couldn't fit. Your eyes were closed, your breath heavy through your nose as you attempted to bob your head on his cock. He groaned your name, his hand pulling so softly on your hair, “My love, what are you doing?” You tried to ignore him, focusing on your actions, only to start choking on his cock. He pulled you off of him quickly at that. You were breathless the second his cock left your mouth, tears welling in your eyes, and your hand rising to grab your throat.  

He fell to the floor beside you, pulling you close to him, pulling you into a hug and holding him close to you, his hand soothing your hair as you regained your breath. He shushed you as you started to cry softly, “It's okay, my love,” he reassured, “you need never do that,” 

You shook your head into his chest, forcing yourself away slowly, “the ladies they-”

He shushed you, “I care not what the ladies of court say, or what ideas they give you - did they tell you to do this?”

“Yes, they said…they said all men expect it, love it and that if I did not then-” your voice cracked, and your face fell back into his chest. 

“Oh my darling girl,” he hummed, cradling you to his chest, “you never have to do anything like that again, unless you wish to.” he kissed the top of your head, “i expect nothing from you just your love,” 

You lifted your face from his chest, your face flushed and eyes puffy as you looked at your husband, at the love in his eyes and the pure devotion. Embarrassment filled you. How could you let the ladies convince you of such nonsense? “I'm sorry,”

He shushed you once again, kissing your forehead softly, “You have nothing to apologise for, nothing at all”

His hand cradled your face, ducking down to place a soft kiss on your lips, “I love you, you are perfect”

“So you did not want that?” you whispered, still flushed in embarrassment. 

“Only if you do, my dear, but I expect nothing more than what we already have between us,”

You smiled, reaching up to kiss him once more, “Did you like it? Was it good?”

He smiled, “Everything you do is good,” he kissed you softly, “you're my good girl, remember?” You preened at his words, kissing him softly, the embarrassment slowly fading away.

Authors note: i know its not a part 3 but i've got such severe writers block for this entire universe - so i hope this drabble makes up for the alck of updates!

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Lady florent and Maekar

They are pretty adventurous in bed.

Their favourite position is 100% mating press. They stumble across that position quiet early on when Lady Florent decided to try and wrap her legs around Maekars neck as he fucked into her and since then it’s been one of their favourite. Same with eagle, it’s a go to pose for them both.

Doggy is also one of there favourites, Maekar is an ass man so any excuse to squeeze and smack pinks ass and he’s down, especially if it position allows fork him to watch as her ass jiggles as he fucks into her from behind.

He also loves it when she on top, lotus is definitely a position he loves. She does too but she definitely prefers when he’s in charge and she’s not the one controlling the pace.

They 100% love 69 they both love giving and receive no oral so I don’t doubt that 69 is a favourite of theirs.

Spooning is how they spend nearly every morning. When they both sleep wrapped around each other, with maekar sleeping nuzzled into her neck, hands on her tits as he sleeps, it’s easy for him to wake up hard. And seeing as both rarely make it to bed clothed it’s so easy to slip in for a lazy morning fuck. They both need it to get the day started.

Missionary of course, though it often moulds into mating press, Lady Florent loves how deep Maekar gets when her legs are in the air, allowing him to hit that oh so sweet spot inside her.

Now once Lady Florentino discovers a particular book in the library their sex begins to get a little more adventurous.

Woven rose is definitely something she wants to try first, with him staring as she lays back in the bed her cunt wrapped deliciously around his cunt, her arms wrapped around his waist as he fucks into her. Or with her face down in the mattress stood behind her fucking into her (wheelbarrow)

Her hanging of the bed as Maekar kneels on the bed fucking no into her. He hits so deep, fucks her so hard an the lightness in her head from the patios only adds to the pleasure (slope)

Now gimlet (with lady florent curled up her legs pinned to her chest as Maekar fucks into her) is definitely more adventurous than most but they both love it. Fucking her like that makes her cunt wrap so deliciously as he fucks her in an impossiblely tight position.

They definitely are into bondage. He loved to pin her hands above her head, loves to tie them to the bed post, loves to tie her legs to the ends of the bed.

Now even though pink prefers to be under, in the occasion is on top (much to Maekars delight) she likes to ride him like there’s no tomorrow wether it’s with her on top facing away from him, his hands in her tits as she fucks herself on him.

Or wether it’s with her face in the crook of his neck riding him with his hands on her hips moving her as she twerks on his dick.

They are honestly down for anything, I can’t picture as single position they wouldn’t do except maybe in the back door.

Anvil - duh the man’s the literally anvil of course he loves this pose her legs wrapped around him, fucking her ugh

Bonus positions: python, London Bridge, pile driver, Spider-Man, bud, splitting bamboo, bow, eagle, stick figure, prone bone, catapult, apex, skewer

Lady Lannister and Baelor

They make sweet love, they don’t fuck and aren’t nearly as adventurous as their in laws.

But it doesn’t mean they only do missionary, sure they love it, love how close and intimate it can be, how Baelor can hold her and he makes sweet love to her, how he can see every second of pleasure, every moan and groan.

Spooning is definitely a favourite, Baelor loves how close she is to him, how he can hold her and so close as he thrusts into her but is still able to tilt her head back and kiss her. How his hand can so easily reach for her clit. How tight she is from that angle.

Now lady Lannister is very rarely on top but when she is it’s definitely lotus position. With her head in his shoulder her hips moving as he slowly thrust into her, holding her so soft and closely, there lips rarely leaving the others.

Plank is definitely a favourite, with Baelor stood at end of the bed holding onto her as he thrusted into her so sweetly, hitting her sweet spot so perfectly.

Magic carpet is also a position they love, though they rarely face away from each other, with Baelor on top of you thrusting into her as he held her close, though so careful as to not crush her.

The most adventurous they get is Spider-Man. With lady florent on her side, her leg held up by Baelor as he thrusts into her, there eyes never breaking even if it means he has to gently tug in her hair to keep her face facing him.

London Bridge is a love from them, with her back arching of the bed, Baelor holding her up as he thrusts into her, loving how deep he can get with how her hips are positioned.

Python is a love too, he can hold her as close as he likes, her body wrapped around him so tightly clingy to him as he fucks her.

Bow - fuck this is there favourite, with lady manager in her beg, her leg bent over her allowing Baelor to fuck into her and hit the soft spot inside her that has both there eyes rolling back into their head. There eye contact never wavering. It’s perfect for them.

Pronebone, definitely a favourite it’s so close and allows Baelor to fuck into her so deep and never have to stop kissing her (he can’t have sex and not kiss LL, like he needs her kisses to breath)

Empty. Complete emptiness. That was the feeling that overwhelmed you. That stilled your body and stunned your mind. Emptiness, the feeling of nothingness, your heart was empty, your mind empty. 

You had never understood it when someone would tell you they felt empty. They had to feel something, anger? Grief? Heartbreak? But no, now you understood it, you felt nothing. You couldn't feel the pain, the blood. The loss of your babe. You couldn't feel anything. And yet you could feel everything. Every sound, every word, you felt it. Felt it in your core, felt it in your heart. And yet your heart felt empty. Nothing could fill it. Nothing except the expectation of emotion. 

You tried to, tried to feel anything. You wanted to be angry. To be sad. To look at Baelor with more than emptiness.

But nothing came, nothing at all. 

It was like all emotions had vanished as if the sun had set on you and your heart.

All you had wanted, all that had controlled you this past year was your hope to fulfil your duty and have a child. To make Baelor happy and give him the family he had lost.  Hope and relief had overwhelmed you throughout your entire pregnancy. Relief at having succeeded at your duty, that you had given Baelor an heir, as a second chance at being a father. But all you had given him was more loss.

When the labour had begun, you knew something was off. Maesters had crowded your chambers, more so than was typical, with Lady Florent and Baleor on either side of you, holding you as the maesters examined you, as you pushed for hours. Hours and hours of pain, all to hear a cry that never came. 

Months of trying. Of failing your one duty, months of wanting to please Baelor and do your duty, only to fail once again. 

A babe born silent. 

Emptiness overwhelmed you, and the whispers that had haunted your marriage from the start, of your failing duties of your being lacking as wife and queen, only got worse. 

“My dear?” Baelor's voice echoed in the empty room as he approached you, his hand reaching for your face, caressing you softly, “Are you awake?” 

Your eyes were closed, your body entirely still, your breath soundless. You wanted to sleep, to sleep for days, weeks or moons. To sleep until something other than nothingness filled you.

“Please, go away,” you sighed, hiding your head under the pillow. Praying that he wouldn't leave, that he would hold you and kiss you until something other than nothingness filled you. 

Baelor sighed, crouching to the floor and reaching for your hands, grasping them in his, kissing them softly.  “My dear,” he started, hesitant to speak, “the maesters need to examine you.”

Your eyes opened, tired and red. “What?”

“You lost a lot of blood, they are worried about your health.”

You nodded, your eyes filling with tears, “They are worried I cannot bear more children.”

Baleor didn't say anything, you both knew it, knew what they needed to do. Even if neither of you liked it.

When you had given birth, they had refused to show you the child, your son. They had hidden him from you, and refused to tell you what had happened. Instead, they let Baelor sit by your side, pressing endless kisses to your face and hands, anywhere he could reach as he whispered soft words of praise and comfort. Lady Florent had left your side after pressing a soft kiss to your head, her eyes filled with tears as she left your side to watch as the masters tended to the babe. 

It was her who insisted on taking him, of wrapping him in the golden cloth embroidered with suns, the very blanket she had spent the last few moons sewing for you. It was her who took the babe and placed him in your arms. And banished the maesters from your chambers.

She and Baelor watched as you cradled your son, singing lullabies to him. You didn't see it, didn't feel it. His coldness, his quietness. You refused to believe he was born silent, that he would never breathe or cry or grow up. He was yours, and no matter how many maesters attempted to pull him from your arms that night, you never let him go. 

You refused to believe you had lost him, refused to part from your son. The son you had prayed for. You refused to believe it for days. 

Even as you watched him burn on the pyre, as Lady Florent and Baelor held you, never once letting you out of their sight, you still couldn't believe it.

The day you did, was when the emptiness began.

Baelor was at your side as the maesters examined you, invaded your privacy, pocked and prodded you in ways you could never imagine. It was baelor who held you as they whispered the words you had been waiting to hear for days.

“Even if she could conceive again, she will likely miscarry,” a maester whispered, his back turned to you.

Another maetser scoffed, his eyes locking with yours as he turned to look over his shoulder, “I'm surprised she did in the first place, she failed again,”

Had Baelor not been watching you, watching as the feeling of emptiness vanished and panic filled you, you were sure he would have struck the maesters. But as panic overtook you, tears filled your eyes, as the maester dropped to the floor and inspected you once more. The grief you had begged to feel. It had overwhelmed you all at once.

Panci rising in you and crashing over you like a wave.  Baelors had the only thing steadying you, as tears streamed down your face. 

He commanded them to stop, his voice angry, uncharacteristically so. The voice of a king sounded, commanding the maesters to leave, all while holding your hand as you buried yourself into his side. Feeling grief wash over you, feeling your heart crack and shatter into a million pieces.  

Shutting the door once the maesters left, Baelor crawled into bed beside you, pulling you into him. His lips kissed everywhere he could reach, his hand soothing its way down your back as the tears you had been praying would come finally began to fall. 

Your throat constricted as he held you, hyperventilating as you finally realised what had happened. And what you had lost. 

Baelor let you cry, held you until the panic finished washing over you, even as silence like you had never known washed over you. 

A silence where the grief settled. 

Where the loss sank in.

“I love you,” Baelor whispered, kissing your head softly. 

Your eyes locked with his, your voice raw, “even after everything?”

“Especially after everything,” Baelor reassured, his hand pulling your face up to his, “loving you is all I need.”

The silence settled over you once more. “How do we cope?” you spoke, after a moment,  “How do we move forward?” you asked, breathless as you settled against Baelor's chest.